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the only reasons i’ve seen given to justify why azzi shouldn’t go to dallas are non-basketball related and are more concerned with public appearance and ‘coupley’ interactions than actual winning.

🫢

oh my gosh guys who said that???

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WNBA draft fits are better than nba draft fits…I may be biased because I’m gay but I know I ain’t wrong.

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aura

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better yet what if she grew it out, stopped dyeing it every 3 weeks, and stopped straightening it like she’s a homophobic parent

what if paige grew her hair out really long again i think that would be cool

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pope paige😭😭

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Hard Launch

Paige x Azzi

Word count: 3k

Warnings: just fluff, enjoy :)

——

The Dallas Wings had just closed out one of their biggest wins of the season. The energy in the arena buzzed like electricity still trapped in the rafters. Paige was riding high off the adrenaline and her first career triple-double—twenty-two points, ten assists, eleven rebounds, and three steals—and now she was heading straight into the post-game press conference.

She should’ve been focused on the game breakdown. But all she could think about was the girl in the front row wearing her jersey.

Azzi.

Azzi had flown in earlier that morning, slipping into town just in time for tipoff. And now there she was—sitting courtside like a secret Paige couldn’t keep much longer. Her long legs crossed, curls pulled back in a half-ponytail, and Paige’s blue #5 jersey hanging oversized on her frame like it belonged there.

Which it did.

Paige had tried not to look too much during the game. Had tried not to stare. Had tried to stay composed when Azzi smiled at her after a tough finish at the rim. She didn’t want to give anything away.

But she was already too far gone.

Now, seated at the table with the mic in front of her, bright lights overhead and cameras rolling, Paige took a sip from her water bottle and shifted in her chair. Reporters peppered her with the usual questions—game strategy, her chemistry with her teammates, how she feels about her triple-double.

And then a different voice cut through.

“Paige, there’s been some buzz online recently—not just about Azzi Fudd sitting courtside again tonight in your jersey, but about a photo she posted a few weeks ago. Fans noticed the phone case she was holding said ‘Paige Bueckers’ girlfriend.’ Do you want to comment on your relationship with her?”

It hit like a full-body static shock.

Paige blinked. The words came before she could stop them.

“I mean… it’s not a secret,” she said, her voice a little softer than usual. “She’s… she’s someone really important to me.”

A few reporters smiled knowingly. Some just raised their brows and started typing.

“I guess if you’re asking if we’re together… yeah. We are,” Paige added with a nervous laugh. “And I’m lucky as hell.”

There was a pause. Not uncomfortable—just charged. And then came the next question, and the conference moved on like nothing happened.

But Paige’s heart was pounding like it had just sprinted a full-court press.

—-

She slipped out of the press room five minutes later, ditching the rest of her team’s entourage to head back toward the tunnel. Her hands were jammed in her pockets, and her hoodie was pulled up over her bun like a kid trying not to get caught skipping school.

When she rounded the corner and spotted Azzi waiting near the bench, that nervous beat inside her exploded.

Azzi was standing casually, still wearing the jersey, arms crossed and eyes locked right on her. Paige stopped short a few feet away.

“Hey,” she said.

Azzi tilted her head, lips curling into something equal parts amused and affectionate. “Hey.”

“Sooo… I might’ve… hard launched us.”

“In the press conference?” Azzi asked with a hint of surprise.

Paige nodded slowly. “Like… national media hard launched.”

Azzi walked forward, closing the distance between them. “What’d you say?”

“That you’re important to me.” Paige looked down, then back up. “That we’re together. And that I’m lucky.”

Azzi’s smile deepened. “You are.”

Paige let out a breathy laugh. “Don’t gas me up right now, I’m freaking out.”

“You’re fine.” Azzi reached up, gently pulling Paige’s hoodie back. “You looked hot tonight, by the way.”

“I scored twenty-two points,” Paige said, mostly to hide how much her cheeks were burning.

“And you still couldn’t stop looking at me,” Azzi teased.

“Not my fault you looked like a walking fantasy in my jersey.”

Azzi leaned in, brushing a kiss to her cheek. “I love you.”

Paige stilled. Not because it was the first time—it wasn’t—but because it always landed with the same quiet force.

“I love you too,” she said. “Even when you make me sweat bullets in front of a dozen reporters.”

Azzi laughed and took her hand. “Let ‘em sweat. You’ve got nothing to hide anymore.”

—-

They kicked off their shoes the second they walked into the apartment. Paige dropped her bag by the door and tugged off her hoodie, the post-game haze finally catching up to her. Azzi didn’t say much—just beelined to the couch, where she threw herself down, still wearing Paige’s Wings jersey and looking completely at home.

Paige walked past the kitchen. “You want tea?”

“Nope,” Azzi called, already pulling out her phone. “I want the internet.”

Paige groaned, spinning on her heel. “Please tell me you’re not checking Twitter.”

“I am absolutely checking Twitter,” Azzi said, already scrolling. “We’re trending.”

“Kill me.”

Azzi grinned. “Okay wait—listen to this one. ‘Paige Bueckers dropping “she’s someone really important to me” like she wasn’t about to break every sapphic heart in America.’ And—wait—‘Hard launched like a NASA rocket and I’m here for it.’”

Paige flopped down next to her and let her head fall into Azzi’s lap. “Why do I sound like I was about to propose?”

“Because you kind of did,” Azzi said, brushing fingers through her hair. “You were nervous. But it was adorable.”

“I was losing my mind,” Paige muttered into her thigh. “I think I blacked out after I said ‘important.’”

Azzi laughed. “You said you were ‘lucky as hell’”

“God.”

“You want a massage? I feel like that level of emotional panic requires some kind of body work.”

Paige grinned into her lap. “Maybe. But only if I can pretend I’m not seeing every post about us.”

Azzi kept scrolling with one hand while the other gently worked at the knots in Paige’s shoulders.

She continued to read the tweets out loud so Paige could hear.

@wnbafanatic: UMMM PAIGE BUECKERS JUST CASUALLY CAME OUT AND SAID AZZI IS HER GIRLFRIEND???

@wingsupdates: Paige saying she’s “lucky as hell” re: Azzi has me kicking my feet.

@queerhoops: We finally got the #Pazzi confirmation we needed and DESERVED. 🥹🏀💙

@barstoolcollege: Paige & Azzi might be the power couple of the decade.

@pazzi4life: Yeah okay, fork found in kitchen. We been known, Paige. 🥹

Paige sighed and turned over to sit up beside her. “Okay. Real talk?”

Azzi nodded, instantly setting her phone aside.

“I wasn’t scared to tell our parents when we did. Or our friends. Or the team. I mean, they already knew,” Paige said, pulling the blanket up over both their legs. “I was scared to tell… them.”

“The world?”

“Yeah. The internet. The fans. The media. All of it.”

Azzi watched her, quiet.

“I’ve spent my whole life being ‘Paige Bueckers,’ you know? This brand, this idea, this… golden girl. I didn’t know how people would take it if I let them see you. Us.”

“You didn’t want to break the illusion,” Azzi said gently.

“I didn’t want to give them something to tear apart.”

Azzi leaned closer. “I get it. It’s not nothing, coming out publicly. Especially in our position.”

Paige looked down at their hands. “I didn’t want anyone to ruin this.”

Azzi squeezed her fingers. “Then don’t let them. They don’t get to touch this unless we let them.”

Paige exhaled. “You’re so sure.”

“I am,” Azzi said. “Because I love you. And I’m not scared of people seeing that.”

Paige was quiet for a beat. “I think I am… but I’m done hiding more than I’m scared of being seen.”

Azzi smiled. “Then we’re good.”

They leaned into each other, kissing slowly, wrapped up in warmth and familiarity. The rest of the world faded out with each soft brush of lips, each lazy laugh between kisses. Eventually, Azzi tugged Paige down with her, their bodies curling together beneath the blanket.

Paige shifted so her hand brushed under the hem of the jersey Azzi was wearing. Azzi responded instantly, deepening the kiss, hands moving to Paige’s waist.

“I meant what I said,” Paige whispered into her mouth. “You’re mine.”

Azzi’s breath hitched. “Then show me.”

—-

Paige stirred awake to sunlight leaking through her bedroom curtains, warm and golden across the sheets. For a minute, she didn’t move—just let herself feel the weight of Azzi’s arm across her stomach, the soft rise and fall of her girlfriend’s breath at her shoulder.

Everything was still. Quiet. Safe.

And then it hit her.

“Oh my god,” she whispered, eyes widening.

Azzi blinked awake beside her. “Mmm?” she murmured, voice thick with sleep.

Paige turned her head slowly. “I said it. Out loud. On record. In a press conference. That we’re together.”

Azzi smiled into the pillow, eyes still mostly closed. “You did.”

Paige groaned and rolled onto her back, covering her face with both hands. “I hard launched us in front of the national media.”

Azzi laughed now, fully awake. “And it was kind of perfect.”

Paige peeked through her fingers. “Was it?”

Azzi propped herself up on one elbow. “Yeah. You were honest. Sweet. Brave.”

Paige went quiet for a moment. “I wasn’t trying to be brave. It just slipped out. But then afterward, I couldn’t stop thinking about all the people who are gonna have opinions about it.”

Azzi’s smile softened. “You wanna talk about it?”

Paige exhaled, turning onto her side to face her. “It’s not that I didn’t want people to know. I just… we’re already so visible, you know? Everything we do gets watched, commented on, judged. Coming out—publicly—it feels like giving people even more to pick apart.”

Azzi nodded slowly, eyes full of understanding. “I get it. I felt the same way.”

“When you asked me if you could post the phone case selfie, you were so sure. Were you not worried?” Paige asked.

Azzi smiled. “I was, but I wanted you to know I was ready, even if you weren’t yet.”

Paige’s heart clenched a little at that. “You weren’t trying to speed up the launch?”

“No,” Azzi said immediately. “I just didn’t want you to think I was ashamed or hiding.”

“I never thought that,” Paige said softly. “I’ve just been scared. Not of being with you—never that. Just scared of what people might say. The fallout. The attention.”

Azzi reached out and laced their fingers together. “The people who love us already know. The rest will catch up or get over it.”

“And if they don’t?”

“Then we still have us,” Azzi said. “And I think that’s enough.”

Paige nodded, a small smile tugging at her lips. “I think it is too.”

Azzi leaned in to kiss her forehead. “You’ve got practice soon, rookie. Better get moving.”

Paige groaned again. “Think if I fake a sprained ankle, Coach’ll let me skip it?”

“Not a chance.”

—-

Practice was in full swing when Paige jogged into the gym, hair still damp from her shower and a faint flush clinging to her cheeks that had nothing to do with running drills.

Arike was the first to greet her.

“Well, well, if it isn’t Paige ‘lucky as hell’ Bueckers,” she teased, grinning from across the court.

Paige rolled her eyes. “Oh god. Not you too.”

“Rook, the entire internet is quoting you.”

Dijonai walked by and bumped her shoulder. “That was a hell of a hard launch.”

Lyss followed, looping her arm around Paige. “More like a detonation.”

Paige groaned. “Y’all are relentless.”

“Hey,” Arike said, smirking. “We’ve known about you two forever. You just made it public. We’ve been sitting on our hands not tagging Azzi in thirst tweets out of respect.”

“You’re welcome,” Dijonai added with a wink.

Lyss leaned in. “But for real… we’re proud of you.”

Paige looked around at her teammates—all smirking, playful, and totally in her corner.

“Thanks,” she said, meaning it.

And just like that, they were back to business. But Paige felt different. Lighter. Stronger. Seen.

And lucky as hell.

—-

Later that week, Paige and Azzi were getting ready for a charity gala. The apartment smelled like curling iron heat and perfume. Music played low in the background, a chill playlist on shuffle while the girls moved around each other—Azzi perched at the vanity in a silk champagne dress, Paige pacing near the closet in a deep navy suit that clung to her frame in all the right places.

“You’re gonna burn a hole in the floor,” Azzi teased, watching Paige pace.

Paige paused mid-step and met her eyes in the mirror. “You look so good it’s actually stressful.”

Azzi smirked as she added a dab of highlighter to her cheekbones. “We’re just going to a gala.”

“We’re going to a gala sponsored by my team, where we’ll walk a red carpet together, as a couple, for the first time,” Paige countered, adjusting her cuff links. “I think stress is valid.”

Azzi stood and walked over, smoothing down Paige’s lapel with practiced ease. “Then let me help you chill out.”

She leaned in and kissed her—softly, just a breath of pressure—and Paige visibly relaxed.

“You ready now?” Azzi asked.

Paige nodded. “Yeah. Let’s blow up the internet.”

—-

The car rolled up to the venue entrance, where a navy carpet stretched out under bright lights and a flurry of camera flashes. Other players and VIPs were already arriving in designer fits and sparkling gowns, but the energy shifted the moment Paige stepped out in her suit.

A few cameras flicked toward her—then froze when Azzi followed, hand sliding into Paige’s as they walked.

There was no hiding it tonight.

Photographers lit up like fireworks.

“Paige! Over here!”

“Azzi, give us a smile!”

“Ladies, together, please—look this way!”

Azzi felt Paige squeeze her hand.

“You okay?” she whispered.

Paige looked at her and smiled, “yeah let’s do this.”

Paige kept Azzi close, one hand securely on her waist as they posed together in front of the Dallas Wings media wall. When Azzi leaned in to say something, a photo caught Paige mid-laugh, head tilted, entirely smitten.

“Y’all are trending already,” muttered one of the Wings’ PR staff with a grin, holding up her phone.

As they made their way inside, Paige felt the nerves start to dissipate—not because the cameras stopped, but because Azzi was calm. Confident. Like this was just another date night. Like it was safe.

The event buzzed with Dallas media, corporate sponsors, and familiar WNBA faces. Paige and Azzi moved from group to group—greeting Wings staff, chatting with teammates and partners, posing for a few more photos inside.

“Paige, wow,” said the team’s marketing director as she shook her hand. “You clean up nice. And Azzi—so great to finally meet you in person. We’ve seen you at games, of course, but it’s nice to put a name to the face.”

Azzi smiled graciously. “Likewise.”

“You two look amazing together,” the woman added, almost in a hushed tone, like she wasn’t sure if she was allowed to say it.

“Thanks,” Paige said, squeezing Azzi’s hand. “We feel amazing together.”

A few feet away, one of the event’s older donors—a man in a crisp gray suit—caught sight of them and leaned in toward a colleague. “Oh, that’s Bueckers’ friend. The UConn kid.”

Paige heard it.

Azzi did too.

And while Azzi gave the man a gracious nod as they walked past, Paige didn’t let it slide.

She slowed, turned slightly, and said loud enough to be heard: “Actually, this is my girlfriend. Not just a friend. I know the difference.”

The man stammered—something about meaning no offense—but Paige was already walking away, Azzi’s hand tucked tightly in hers.

“You didn’t have to do that,” Azzi said quietly.

“I wanted to,” Paige replied. “I’m not letting anyone downplay what we are. Not anymore.”

—-

They collapsed into the Uber like they were finally exhaling after holding it in all night. Paige tugged her tie loose while Azzi kicked off her heels and tucked them beside her on the seat, her bare feet sliding over the leather.

Azzi leaned back, dress pooled around her thighs, and opened her phone. The screen lit up instantly.

“Oh my god. We’re everywhere,” she said, scrolling through mentions. “Twitter. TikTok. WNBA Reddit. There’s a clip of you calling me your girlfriend with this dramatic music under it. The lesbians are unwell.”

Paige grinned and rested her head against the cool window, one arm casually draped across Azzi’s lap. “Good. Let ’em spiral.”

Azzi clicked over to her camera roll and scrolled until she landed on the photo—the one from the carpet where Paige had her arm wrapped tight around Azzi’s waist, both of them looking at each other instead of the camera, smiling like the rest of the world didn’t exist.

She held it up. “What about this one?”

Paige glanced over and immediately nodded. “Yeah. That’s the one.”

“We posting it?”

“Together?”

Azzi smiled. “Hardest of hard launches. No going back.”

Paige sat up and reached for her phone too. “Let’s do it.”

They sat side by side in the dark Uber, phones glowing between them as they each uploaded the photo.

Azzi typed first:

“Couldn’t be prouder to stand beside you, on and off the court 💙 #HardLaunch”

Paige stared at her screen for a beat, then typed:

“Took my shot & she said yes 🥹 #LuckyAsHell”

They looked at each other and tapped post at the same time.

Seconds later, their phones lit up in tandem—likes, comments, reposts already flowing in like a tidal wave. But for once, Paige didn’t care what any of them said.

Azzi leaned into her side. “How do you feel?”

Paige turned toward her and answered without hesitation. “Like I’ve never been more proud of anything in my life.”

Azzi’s lips curled. “Not even your triple double last week?”

“Not even close.”

She took Azzi’s hand, threading their fingers together.

“Tonight,” Paige said, eyes locked on her, voice low and warm, “you made me feel like the most complete version of myself. And it’s not because of the cameras or the suits or the headlines. It’s just… you. You make me feel like I don’t have to hide any part of me.”

Azzi swallowed, visibly moved.

Paige leaned in and kissed her—soft, but certain.

They pulled back only when the driver cleared his throat and announced, “You’re home.”

But in Paige’s head, the word didn’t mean the apartment.

It meant the girl sitting next to her.

[exipredmilk]

Glad DeWanna is getting outta there!!!!!!

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Caitlin Clark is not the GOAT. She’s a ballhog.

People always bring up her assist numbers and say things like “She averages 10 assists per game,” but the reality is that she often has more turnovers than assists. Her decision-making is poor, and her basketball IQ is questionable. She constantly forces bad shots, even when she’s tightly defended, instead of passing to open teammates.

Take the Storm game, for example. She got the ball, had a defender right in her face with no space to work with, and still took the shot. She missed, obviously.

Her defense is even worse. She looks like a lost puppy on defense, and out of position. She shows little effort to recover when she makes mistakes. Her body language is also terrible. She slumps after bad plays and doesn’t show much fight to make up for them.

People only hype her up because she shoots from deep, but most of those shots are low-percentage and only go in by chance. At the end of the day, she’s more about flash than actual skill or smart team play.

My point is don’t compare her to Paige, because caitlin is half the player paige is, she can actually play defense and offense.

This is a video of her looking like an idiot on defense…

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This is not a cry for help (but it might be) PART SIX

WC: 3k CW: Drinking ish? Notes: LOL what is up everyone. Plz send live reacts cause they're always so funny for this fic. Anywayssss enjoy. progress but slow. P is me.

Paige didn’t even mean to wake up early.

Actually, she was planning to sleep in. Like, full on cocoon in the blankets, hide-from-life, pretend-last-night-wasn’t-real kind of sleep. That was the dream. That was the move.

But of course her body was like nope! You’re a fun little ball of stress so enjoy waking up at 7:12 AM on a summer morning like a psychopath.

So now she’s awake.

And Azzi’s still asleep, which is probably a sign that the universe hates her. Because Paige is lying there, eyes open, staring at the ceiling and trying not to think about how close Azzi’s face is and how her hand is still sort of half on Paige’s waist like it lives there now.

She carefully (very carefully) gets out of bed.

Azzi shifts a little, but doesn’t wake up, which honestly feels unfair. Paige’s heart is still going dumb in her chest. Like she didn’t just wake up from the most ridiculous, intense fever dream ever. Like she didn’t fall asleep feeling… whatever that was.

Anyway.

Downstairs.

Katie is already there. Already dressed, already moving around the kitchen like a sitcom mom, flipping bacon and humming something that sounds suspiciously like one of those country songs Paife doesn’t really like.

“Morning,” she says, all bright-eyed and unbothered. Like it’s normal to have this much energy before 8 a.m.

“Morning,” Paige croaks, voice hoarse and slightly guilty sounding.

Katie smiles. “Hungry?”

Paige scratches her head. She’s still in her Azzi’s T shirt and whatever shorts she pulled on before leaving the room. Her hair’s a mess. She’s blinking like a mole seeing daylight.

“I mean… I guess,” she says. “Like… I could be?.”

Katie raises an eyebrow. “That sounds like a ‘no, but I know I should say yes so you’ll stop asking’ kind of answer.”

Paige flops into a kitchen chair. “Wow, you’re good.”

“I’m all knowing,” Katie says. “It’s a skill set.”

Paige rests her forehead against the table dramatically. “Can I get a pass for today? I had a long night.”

Katie snorts. “You’re fifteen. Your definition of ‘long night’ is probably giggling under the covers and watching TikToks.”

“Yup,” Paige says, because absolutely not. “That’s exactly what I was doing.”

Katie plates eggs and bacon like she’s feeding an army. Or a teen athlete. Which… yeah, okay.

She sets it in front of Paige and pours a glass of orange juice like the food police.

Paige stares at the plate. It smells good. It’s too good. “I usually skip breakfast,” she says, almost apologetic.

Katie’s already flipping the next round of eggs. “Not in this house.”

“That’s aggressive.”

Katie points a spatula at her without even turning. “So is hypoglycemia.”

Paige raises her hands. “Okay, okay. Geez. It’s like I’m in detention.”

“You’re in a kitchen.”

“Same thing,” Paige mutters, stabbing at an egg. “One just has better lighting.”

Katie smiles at her over her shoulder. “Eat, Paige.”

So she eats.

She eats because saying no would feel rude, and because it actually tastes kind of amazing, and because even though she doesn’t want to admit it, she’s starving.

They sit in this quiet kitchen rhythm for a while. The house is still. The sun’s barely up. There’s birds outside and whatever else people say when they’re in the woods and pretending life’s not complicated.

Paige kind of likes it.

Which is annoying.

Katie glances over at her as she refills the coffee pot. “You sleep okay?”

Paige shrugs, chewing bacon. “Define okay.”

Katie doesn’t push it. She just hums and hands her another slice of toast like Paige is a project she’s already committed to finishing.

Paige eats that too. Because whatever. She’s here now.

“You’re wild,” Paige says eventually, gesturing with her fork.

Katie gives her a look. “Because I fed you?”

“Yes.”

“Then I guess that’s ok.”

Paige hides her smirk behind her juice glass.

She doesn’t say thanks.

But she eats every bite.

–

Okay. Here’s the thing.

Paige Bueckers has a long-standing, private, and very justified vendetta against swimming.

It’s not that she can’t swim. She can. She learned when she was five, thank you very much, in a chlorinated YMCA pool that reeked of bleach and childhood trauma. But she just doesn’t like it. Never has.

Maybe it’s the way her hair sticks to her neck. Maybe it’s the stupid way swimsuits always feel too tight or too loose, but never actually right. Maybe it’s the water. Or the sun. Or the entire concept of recreational wetness.

Point is—Paige is not a swimmer. She’s a hooper. She belongs on the court, not floating around like a dumb leaf in a lake full of fish poop.

But here she is.

In a lake.

With Azzi.

And Azzi’s brothers, who have been cannonballing off the dock for the last twenty minutes like they’re trying to flood the whole state.

And Azzi. Let’s talk about Azzi for a second.

Because Azzi is in a bikini. A purple one.

And it should be illegal.

Like genuinely, someone should call the authorities. Because Paige is trying her best to survive this absolutely blinding amount of hotness while treading water and pretending she’s not seconds away from drowning in feelings.

Azzi’s laughing and splashing her brothers and then wiping water off her face like she’s in a slow-mo summer movie scene, and Paige has never felt more like a soggy rat in comparison.

Her sunblock is already failing. Her legs are too pale. Her hair feels gross. And she’s fairly certain there’s a piece of seaweed stuck to her ankle.

“Why are you standing like that?” Azzi calls, chest-deep in the water, grinning like a demon.

“Standing like what?” Paige shouts back.

“Like you hate this!”

“I do hate this!”

Azzi just laughs. Tosses her hair back and floats on her back like the most graceful human to ever exist.

“Come here,” she says.

“No.”

“Come here,” Azzi says again, voice playful but threatening.

Paige swims over like a loser.

They float near each other, and Azzi bumps her foot against Paige’s under the water, which is so casual and also not casual at all.

Azzi’s brothers are still yelling about something. Probably who cheated in their splash war or who’s banned from holding the pool noodle. Paige has tuned them out.

Azzi leans in a little. “I’m hungry.”

Paige squints. “We literally ate like two hours ago.”

“I know,” Azzi says, dead serious. “But I’m still hungry.”

“You’re crazy.”

“Come get snacks with me.”

“No,” Paige says immediately. “We’re wet."

Azzi tilts her head. “So?”

“So the inside is are dry and I’m not about to walk inside like a wet sandwich.”

Azzi raises her eyebrows. “Wow. You’re dramatic.”

“I’m realistic,” Paige says, treading water like she’s on trial. “Also this lake is cursed. My foot touched something and I saw my life flash before my eyes.”

Azzi is so not listening. She’s already swimming toward the ladder. She glances over her shoulder and calls out, “Paige.”

“What.”

“Come get snacks with me.”

And Paige groans because she can’t say no. She literally cannot. Even if Azzi didn’t just do the over-the-shoulder look like she was in a Disney Channel original movie, Paige would’ve followed her anyway.

“Fine,” she says, dragging herself out of the lake like a half-drowned cat.

Her swimsuit sticks in all the wrong places. Her hair drips straight down her back. Her foot crunches on the gravel and she knows her face is red from sun or blushing or both.

Azzi waits for her with a towel and that face. The one that says I know you’re annoyed and I’m enjoying every second of it.

Paige grabs the towel. “I hate you.”

“No, you don’t.”

“I hate swimming.”

“Fair.”

“I hate wet clothes.”

“Understandable.”

“I guess the snacks are alright though.”

Azzi grins. “Mhm. THat’s what I thought.”

They walk inside dripping water everywhere. Paige leaves footprints on the hardwood. Azzi heads straight for the kitchen, opens the fridge like she lives there (she does), and tosses Paige a juice pouch.

Paige catches it. “Are we five?”

“Yes,” Azzi says. “Now drink it.”

Paige does. Because it’s cold and fruity and actually slaps. She leans against the counter in her wet swimsuit, juice in hand, and side-eyes Azzi.

“You in that bikini is actually a hate crime.”

Azzi looks over her shoulder, deadpan. “File a report.”

Paige takes another sip. She’s not even sure if her heart rate is from swimming or Azzi anymore.

Probably Azzi.

Definitely Azzi.

–

The thing about sunburns is that they don’t hit all at once.

No, they sneak up on you. They let you float around in your false sense of “maybe I actually tan now” security. Let you feel like maybe this time will be different.

And then they burn you alive.

Paige feels it first when she’s drying off after her shower. That tight, itchy stretch across her shoulders. Her arms feel like they’ve been microwaved. Her nose is pink. Her neck’s mad at her. Her face is just straight-up betrayal.

Honestly, it’s deserved. Paige vs. The Sun has been an ugly rivalry since birth.

Azzi had already passed out the second they got back from the lake, full-on snuggled into her pillow like she didn’t just look illegal in a bikini all day. Paige wanted to say something dumb to her before crashing, but it didn’t happen. Azzi was too cozy, too asleep. So Paige just showered, changed into her comfiest oversized tee, and tiptoed her way downstairs in search of cold water and peace.

She’s halfway through grabbing a glass when Katie rounds the corner like she’s been waiting.

“Oh honey,” she says.

Paige freezes. “What?”

Katie points at her shoulder. “You’re toasted.”

“I’m fine.”

Katie gives her a look that says absolutely not, try again.

Paige sighs. “It’s not that bad.”

“Paige. You’re medium-well at least. Come sit.”

Paige shifts uncomfortably. She tugs her shirt down like that’ll help.

Katie already has the aloe out. Like she was born with it in her pocket or summoned it from the mom void. Paige considers arguing again, but honestly she hurts and standing sucks and she’s tired.

So she sighs and sits.

“I’m not taking off my whole shirt,” she says quickly.

Katie sits beside her with the aloe. “You’ve got a bra on, right?”

“Yeah, but—”

“Then it’s fine. I saw you in a swimsuit three hours ago. I just want to put some aloe on it, okay?”

That somehow doesn’t make Paige feel better, but she pulls off her shirt anyway, wincing as the fabric tugs against her shoulder blades. She keeps her arms tight to her sides. Feels very aware of everything.

Katie is gentle. Like annoyingly so.

The aloe is cold, but it’s a relief. And Katie doesn’t say anything at first—just rubs the gel in careful, slow circles over the worst spots. It stings a little, but Paige isn’t gonna whine about it. She already feels weird enough.

She stares at the kitchen tile and pretends it’s not vulnerable or whatever.

She’s mid-thought when her phone buzzes on the counter.

It’s her dad.

Of course it is.

Paige flinches without meaning to. Her whole body goes still.

Katie pauses. “You good?”

“Yeah,” Paige says automatically, grabbing her phone. “I’ll—uh—I’m just gonna take this outside.”

Katie nods once, already back to capping the aloe. Paige pulls her shirt back on, not meeting her eyes, and practically escapes to the porch like the house is gonna explode.

The swing creaks when she sits.

“Hey,” she says into the phone.

“Paigeeeyyy,” her dad says.

And that’s… not great.

He’s slurring a little. Talking fast and slow at the same time. His words loop, like maybe he’s trying to sound casual but forgot what sentence he started three words ago.

She knows this version of him.

It’s not even the worst one. Just the one that makes her stomach twist.

“You home yet?” he asks.

“Yeah,” she says, looking at the trees. “Been home. Then came up here. Remember?”

“I miss you.”

That makes her blink. “Okay.”

“Tell Drew I love him,” he adds suddenly, like it popped into his brain mid-rant.

“You could tell him yourself,” Paige says. “He’s with you.”

But her dad’s already moved on. He’s rambling about the lake cabin they used to rent when she was little. About her mom, randomly. About how this whole thing with “her”, which means his wife, or ex-wife, or enemy number one, or whatever, “isn’t fair.”

Paige goes quiet.

She just sits there, half-listening, half-fading out, watching the trees move in the breeze. They’re green and soft and kind of blurry. It should be nice.

It’s not.

Eventually her dad says, “Alright. I’m gonna go, kid. Love you.”

Paige doesn’t answer right away.

“Paige?”

“Yeah. Love you too,” she says, and it sounds fake even to her.

He hangs up.

She sits still for a while. The porch swing creaks again. Her chest feels too full. Her throat feels too tight. She doesn’t cry, but it’s close.

Then the door creaks open and Katie steps out.

She’s got a glass of water and that look. The one that says I’m not gonna make you talk, but I’m here if you want to.

Paige wipes at her nose even though it didn’t run. Just to feel something.

Katie hands her the glass.

“Thanks.”

“You okay?”

“Why does everyone keep asking me that?” Paige snaps.

Katie just sits next to her. Doesn’t flinch. Doesn’t lecture.

They sit in silence for a bit. Paige sips her water. The woods are still moving.

She says it before she even decides to say it.

“My dad’s not doing great.”

Katie glances over.

“And I mean like, not great. Like spiraling and weird phone calls and barely holding it together and I think maybe drinking again but I’m not sure and I don’t wanna accuse him of stuff but also I’m not a little kid.”

Katie doesn’t interrupt. Doesn’t react.

“And it’s been loud at home. Like… bad loud. And I know I’m lucky to not be there but my little brother is there, and I don’t know how to help. And I feel bad being here. But also I don’t want to be there. Like, at all. So I feel double bad. And also I think I might like girls. Which is… not related but still a problem. I guess. I don’t know.”

She laughs, short and sharp and hollow.

Katie just hums. “That’s a lot, kiddo.”

Paige leans back against the swing. “Tell me about it.”

“I’m glad you told me.”

Paige shrugs. “You kinda Jedi mind-tricked me into it.”

Katie smiles. “I have secret mind control powers. It’s a thing.”

Paige looks at her. “I thought Azzi made that up.”

Katie shrugs. “She did. But I like it.”

They sit there until Paige finishes her water. The sun’s going down now.

Katie stands up eventually and ruffles Paige’s hair before she heads back inside.

Paige leans back, watching the trees some more.

And for once, everything’s kind of quiet.

–

The room is quiet when she comes back upstairs.

Azzi’s still in bed, curled toward the window, blanket all bunched up under her chin like she didn’t just spend the afternoon being hot and chaotic and bikini-evil. Paige stands there for a second in the dark, watching her breathe, trying not to think about the porch swing or the phone call or how her whole body feels like it’s made of too much.

Her sunburn still stings. Her throat’s tight again, which is fantastic. She’s tired but not tired. You know?

She climbs into bed gently. Like quietly-lower-yourself-gently, blanket-tug-silent-exhale kind of gentle.

Azzi stirs the second the mattress shifts.

Like of course she does.

Paige freezes. “Sorry,” she whispers. “Go back to sleep.”

But Azzi already reaches out, eyes still half closed. “You’re back,” she murmurs, and she’s already moving closer, sliding an arm around Paige like it’s nothing. Like it’s the most natural thing in the world.

Paige flinches. Just barely. But it’s enough.

Azzi’s hand brushes her shoulder and Paige hisses.

“Ow—sorry—”

Azzi pulls back immediately, blinking awake now. “Shit—sorry babe—”

Babe.

Babe?

And then she kisses Paige’s shoulder. The unburnt part. Soft. Just once.

And Paige’s whole brain short circuits.

Because what the hell. Who does that? Who says that? Who kisses people so gently they actually feel like crying?

It’s not like a big kiss. It’s not flirty. It’s not anything but real.

And Paige is… she doesn’t do that. She’s sarcastic and annoying and full of noise. She doesn’t just…get touched like this.

“You alright?” Azzi whispers.

And it’s a real question. Not one of the dumb ones like everyone keeps asking. It’s not like you okay? like a formality. It’s soft. It’s asking in a different way. Like Azzi can feel something on her.

Paige blinks up at the ceiling and does not cry. She doesn’t. But her eyes sting a little, and she breathes weird for a second.

“I’m fine,” she says.

Azzi doesn’t believe her. Obviously.

“Your back’s okay?”

“Yeah.”

Azzi hums. Her hands trail lightly across Paige’s back, carefully avoiding every place that might sting. She doesn’t press. Just lets her fingers move slow and steady, like she’s tracing Paige’s heartbeat through her spine.

Paige exhales into the pillow. Her whole body starts to un-tense. Not all the way. But some.

She doesn’t say thank you. She doesn’t say anything at all for a while.

Azzi just holds her.

One hand on Paige’s waist. One hand moving in lazy shapes on her back. Her forehead pressed against Paige’s shoulder like she belongs there.

And Paige? Paige stays really still. Because if she moves, she might cry. Or scream. Or say something stupid like I needed this more than oxygen tonight.

And like, she knows it’s dumb. It’s just Azzi. She’s just being nice. But it feels like something more. It feels like..

Like like? 

Being in-like?

Paige’s chest doesn’t hurt as much now. And her skin still burns, but a different kind of burn, the kind that’s actually kind of okay.

[exipredmilk]

fuck it we seeing the liberty for the chip and paige getting mvp

[exipredmilk]

if i see any of y’all say this game was a stinker i’m putting a gun to ur head

[exipredmilk]

Paige has always been phenomenal but ever since Li joined Dallas Wings, they've been 3-1. I really think she's the missing piece for them this season. 🥹💖

[exipredmilk]

TL cleanse 🧎🏻‍♀️‍➡️

[exipredmilk]

all these rumours

paige bueckers x azzi fudd

masterlist

summary: times azzi was sick of subtle and quiet hints and attempts to hard launch with her longtime best friend and girlfriend. frustration and chaos ensues however, when she fails. multiple. times.

a/n: thank u for ur patience once again lovelies 🥹 im still gonna edit this but this is my longest one shot ever so i hope it’s still enjoyable 😭 tell me ur thoughts <3

azzi knew more or less that there was a hefty price to pay for the dream life she chased.

she knew that eventually, the talent she’s harnessed and worked on for years would pay off – that the world would know what she could do. who she could be.

picture perfect form, unshakable morals, a humble yet competitive spirit.

that was who azzi fudd is. the kind of basketball player kids dreamed to be.

and she got it – she has what she’s worked so hard to do all her life. she got in the basketball capital of the world, she had a team that felt more like family, friendships that grounded her, people she’d bleed for.

and somehow, in the middle of all of that—she fell in love.

people were always stunned when she told the story. the story of how she met her soulmate, her twin flame, her everything.

paige bueckers.

every bit of a great athlete azzi is. she led with a kind of love and passion for not only the game, but for the people she played with. she had the kind of faith that swayed you, and a personality that left everyone wanting more.

and really, azzi understands. she understands why the internet obsessed over every interaction they had. every glance, touch, every shared laugh. they were absolutely enamored with their dynamic.

she understands cause she was living it.

she found a lover in her best friend. and god, azzi could never forget how softly their relationship had blossomed. how gently they had crossed the line between platonic and romantic. she remembers the soft confessions, the nervous first date, the jealousy they felt as they tried to hide from each other throughout their highschool careers.

she remembers how tough it was for paige had to watch azzi go with a boy to prom, and for azzi to watch as the media spun narrative after narrative of paige’s latest rumored boyfriend.

a hundred moments they had to swallow their love and smile like it didn’t sting.

but when azzi got to uconn, everything changed.

they were no longer living parallel lives — they were living the same one. suddenly it wasn’t just about quiet stares and lingering touches. it was about navigating something real, something tangible. they had a much harder time trying to bury their affections for each other. hands lingered a little longer than necessary, stares burned in a way that friends definitely did not do.

they tried to hide it. they really did.

nonetheless, everyone caught up to it pretty quick.

including their coaches and staff.

and safe to say they had a very thorough talk about media training and deal that yes – there was no rule that they couldn’t date, but it had to be very quiet, down low.

and it was easy.

kinda.

they were surrounded by the best team mates, who supported them through thick and thin. who, sure, maybe gagged at their quick kisses and cuddles during move nights or quick embraces in locker rooms before a game. but through it all, even with the chaos, azzi was content. grateful, even.

but now?

now it was different. they weren’t teammates anymore. they weren’t under the same roof, with the same jersey, following the same rules.

and azzi, has quiet as she had been during their years in uconn, was absolutely dying to show off her girlfriend.

because why not?

she can now.

and she was so damn ready.

–

forget about ending it with a bang, they started it with a bang.

the 2025 draft was much anticipated, not only for the fates of their future rookies in the league, but for the fashion, the glitz, the glamour.

and azzi?

she made damn sure she showed up. she pops out in the glittery black dress that hugs her curves perfectly, with her hair styled in curls that cascaded down the expanse of her bare, toned back.

and she came with a statement to make.

she made sure to stay by paige’s side for photos, smiling at her in a way that no longer held back adoration. heart eyes, the fans said. she posed for pictures as paige wrapped her hand around her waist, smiling with a love-sick, dopey grin that only fueled the flutter of butterflies in her stomach.

and if that wasn’t enough, she smiled to herself victoriously as she settled down in her very own seat.

in paige’s table.

she smiled knowingly, already anticipating the craze that is their fans, knowing that some of them doubted she would be there. she was excited to stir chaos, to send the clear message that she’s been by her girlfriend’s side and she’s here to stay. that no matter where she goes, she’ll always be close to follow.

her name wasn’t being called yet, but she looked like the proudest person in the room when paige’s was.

but to her surprise, as the night settled down and they returned to paige’s hotel room, it still wasn’t enough.

she remembers being tangled up in hotel sheets, bare underneath the covers as she ran her fingers through her tussled hair. the night had been nothing but hectic, and she half expected paige to pass out by the time they entered their hotel room with the amount of media, socialisation, and tequil shots she had downed in celebration of her draft night.

safe to say, the night had in fact not gone down that road, and instead ended with paige’s hands wandering and azzi not being able to resist.

cause who was she to deny her number one pick girlfriend? she couldn’t – not when she wanted it just as much. not when paige mouthed at her neck, whispering thanks and gratitude and confessions in a way that made azzi’s heart skip a beat and ignited a warmth in her stomach. she remembers the way paige had glanced up at her from between her legs, looking up as if she was the one who had been drafted. she remembers the gentleness, the passion, and the silent promises between each kiss and each release.

“you okay there baby?” paige had said as she exited the bathroom, her loose button up long gone as she climbed into bed again, quickly wrapping azzi into a warm embrace as she breathes in her scent.

“hm.” she hummed, setting down her phone by her pillow. she was scrolling through social media while paige had gone to clean up, and much to her dismay, her message still wasn’t clear to some.

she reached up to plant a soft kiss to her girlfriend’s lips. “saw some people saying we were ‘bff goals.’” she scrunched her nose, bringing a quiet giggle from paige.

“is that a bad thing?” paige laughs softly, brushing away azzi’s hair to kiss her forehead.

azzi gasped.

“what kinda best friend sits at a draft table and gets hugged first?” azzi shook her head, as if personally offended. “i am very obviously your girlfriend, thank you.”

paige just laughs, eyes fond as azzi sinks deeper in her embrace.

“let’s try again then.”

–

she’d kept the hints going, subtle but steady, while paige threw herself into her rookie season.

likes on tiktok edits, continuously coming to her games, even helping paige settle in texas barely a day after they had been “separated.”

the big one came unexpectedly, on a regular thursday afternoon.

she’d been cleaning her room, hair pulled up and sleeves rolled to her elbows, with paige propped up on facetime. on screen, paige was standing in front of her bathroom mirror, rambling about practice and the new weight room, her voice bright as she pulled her hair into a sleek ponytail.

azzi half-listened. mostly, she stared.

her eyes were fixed on the way paige’s biceps flexed when she tightened her ponytail. the gloss of her lips as she applied balm. the arch of her brow as she talked, animated and glowing.

“ma, you good?” paige smirked when she realised azzi was no longer listening, laughing at the glossy look in azzi’s eyes. “something distracting you?”

azzi coughed and rolled her eyes, though the blush creeping up her neck gave her away. “just admiring what’s mine, that’s all.”

paige smiled, almost shy as her cheeks tint a pretty shade of pink at her girlfriend’s possessiveness. “i miss you, baby.”

azzi’s smirk faded, replaced with something heavier. her voice dropped to a murmur as she sat on the edge of her bed. “i miss you more, p. it’s not the same here without you.”

paige pouted, like she felt it in her chest too. “it’s weird seeing you more on a screen again. i’m so used to just walking downstairs when i missed you.”

“now it’s six hours and a flight just to hug you for a day,” azzi sighed.

paige pouts even harder, sighing dramatically. “i just miss my girl. you’ve been looking too damn fine in my jersey. you trying to kill me?”

and that’s when it hit her.

azzi shot up, rummaging through the clutter on her desk—books, lip gloss tubes, tangled chains – until she found it.

she held up the delicate silver necklace, triumph written all over her face. a small heart charm beside a number 5.

“baby,” paige laughed, eyes lighting up. she knew that face. “what are you planning?”

“you’ll see.” azzi smirked.

see if they can deny this now.

spoiler: they can.

–

the tiktok blew up instantly – a dancing video with suni and anna. but that wasn’t what caught people’s attention.

no, it was the subtle glint of silver that caught the light every time azzi moved, delicate, gleaming, and undeniably there.

from the second the video went live, suni and anna had teased her relentlessly, eyebrows raised, smirks smug.

“oh they’re gonna eat this up,” anna said gleefully as she posted it, watching the likes skyrocket in real time. and azzi beamed, half proud, half smug.

suni leaned over her shoulder with a knowing grin. “you really wore that necklace for this?”

azzi shrugged smugly, beaming like the mastermind she was. “they better catch on this time.”

she thought this was it. they had to get it now.

and for a while, it seemed like they had. comments poured in. likes exploded. azzi refreshed the app every few minutes, heart racing, already imagining the thinkpieces, the ship edits, the finally, we have confirmation!! tweets.

but a few hours later, when she opened her phone, her jaw dropped.

comments flooded in:

“i wear my best friend’s number too lol”

“okay but this could still be platonic?”

“my bestie gave me a necklace like that 🥰”

what the fuck.

azzi slammed her phone face-down onto her bed, letting out a long, dramatic groan.

“you’re fucking lying.” she muttered under her breath, already on her feet and storming down the hallway to kk’s dorm with one mission in mind: complain. violently.

she flung the door open without knocking, mouth open and rants waiting to spill out when she heard it.

paige’s voice, warm and amused, drifting from kk’s phone screen.

“hey, fudd,” kk grinned, turning the phone to reveal paige’s face, all soft lighting and softer smiles. her girlfriend brightens up immediately, smiling that soft smile reserved only for her.

“hey, babe,” paige greeted. but her smile faltered as soon as she took in azzi’s stormy expression.

“uh oh. what happened?”

“oh, you know,” azzi drawled dramatically, flopping down on the edge of kk’s bed like the world’s most exhausted gay. “just the fucking allegations.”

kk blinked. “azzi. they can’t be allegations if you’re actually dating.”

“nah,” paige cut in, already catching on. she chuckled, leaning closer to the camera. “by allegations, she means best friend allegations.”

a beat of silence.

and then kk howled with laughter, doubling over as azzi swatted her shoulder.

“it’s not fucking funny.” she whined, ignoring how paige smiles fondly, eyes crinkling and bright.

“how are we still getting best friend allegations?” azzi rambled, pacing now. “i sat at her draft table. i’ve been in texas more in the last two weeks than my own parents’ house. i’m literally wearing her number around my neck like a promise ring.”

kk wipes a tear that escaped her eyes as she catches her breath, “you kill me, genuinely.”

“shut the fuck up kk.”

“okay, okay,” she wheezed, holding up her hands in surrender. “just be more obvious, then. you know how the internet is. unless you’re holding up a giant neon sign that says ‘i’m in a gay relationship with paige bueckers’ they’re gonna think y’all braid each other’s hair while you watch love island .”

“should i tattoo it on my forehead?” azzi deadpanned. “i’m dating paige bueckers across my fucking hairline?”

“i’d be down,” paige chimed in helpfully.

azzi shot her a look.

paige grinned sheepishly. “sorry.”

kk just rolled her eyes for what had to be the fifth time. “no one said that. just make another tiktok. with paige this time. don’t you literally have a visit planned soon?”

azzi groaned again but nodded, slumping down into kk’s desk chair with a dramatic exhale.

“fine. i guess i’ll try again.”

“aww.” paige cooed at azzi’s jutted lip, clearly dejected at her failed attempt at yet another hard launch. “don’t worry babe, we can do that trend you’ve been wanting.”

azzi’s head snapped up, a hopeful smile dancing on her lips, “really?”

“of course, baby,” paige said, voice low and warm, and if azzi had been any closer, back in her arms where she belongs, she would’ve kissed her silly on the spot.

“ew, gross.” kk gagged, “this feels like watching my parents kiss.”

azzi flipped her off without even looking, already envisioning the tiktok that would put rumours to rest. hopefully. maybe.

they’d stop calling it platonic.

–

the restaurant was bustling with quiet noise – the clink of silverware against ceramic, the soft murmur of conversations blending with occasional bursts of laughter. dim lighting bounced off polished wood and wine glasses, casting everything in a warm glow. it was perfect, not because of the fragrant waft of food everywhere, (although that did help) but because she was here, with her again, back where she belongs.

they were sat on a spacious round table. and even though they were in the middle of the restaurant, surrounded by people and different conversations, azzi barely heard the hum of the world around her.

all she heard was paige.

“and then nai says it’s because i’m pale like casper the ghost. what does that have to do with anything?” paige sighed mid-rant, her hands animated as she recounted something that happened during shootaround, her voice trailing into another tangent about a meme she saw that morning.

and azzi would like to think she was a great girlfriend. she’d say she was attentive and ready to listen. but right now, with her girlfriend so soft and so close to her again? she couldn’t help but stare.

she was watching. warm eyes fixed on paige’s every expression. the way her nose scrunched when she laughed, the way her lashes fluttered when she looked down at her plate, the way her voice softened just slightly whenever she said azzi’s name.

god, it’s sickening how in love she was. maybe kk did have a point.

paige leaned forward suddenly, noticing the face her girlfriend had when she was in her head again. reaching across the table, she laced their fingers together. like it was the most natural thing in the world.

and it was.

her thumb brushed slow circles into the back of azzi’s hand as she watched azzi register her gentle actions.

“anyways,” paige said, a little quieter, a little gentler. “how are you doing, baby? still bothered about the rumours?”

azzi sighed before she could help it, spine straightening at the mention of the issue. paige laughed softly, lifting their hands and pressing a kiss to the smooth skin just below azzi’s knuckles.

“you have no idea.” azzi rolled her eyes, softening slightly at the affection. she fished her phone out to show her girlfriend a screenshot of the many tweets and tiktok comments. “look. best friend, former team-mate, anything but girlfriend. it’s ridiculous!”

a blur of screenshots filled the screen as paige squinted. tweet after tweet, tiktok after tiktok, each one circled or underlined in red like she was building a case. best friend. former teammate. “normal friendship between girls.” platonic. platonic. platonic.

paige cackled at a particular comment. “yall reaching. i look at my best friend the way paige does and we’re not dating.” she read aloud, biting her lip to stop a very inappropriate laugh from escaping.

“someone tell her…” paige started shakily, “if she looks at her best friend the way we look at each other…”

azzi’s hands shoot up to cover her mouth, knowing her girlfriend’s next words.

paige was near tears. “they’re probably-”

“gay.” azzi deadpanned, snickering into her hands as she tried to remain quiet.

paige didn’t even try, doubling into a loud laughter as she hid her face from curious stares.

“gay,” she repeated, muffled into her palms, before peeking back up at azzi with tear-glossed eyes and the widest grin. “god, i love you.”

azzi just huffed, still scrolling. “tell that to the internet.”

she opened tiktok on azzi’s phone, still in her hand with a sly grin. “wanna make it now?”

azzi’s eyes brightened instantly, nodding animatedly as paige leaned in to plant a soft kiss on her forehead.

—

they filmed it first try – azzi tilted her head, eyes wide with innocence. “how much was it?” she mouthed.

paige looked exasperatedly at the camera. “two hundred dollars.”

azzi let out a cute little gasp, a soft smile contrasting paige’s reaction. “that’s not bad!”

azzi could barely contain the shake of her body as she cackled at the slow motion of paige’s reaction. they both cracked up the moment the audio cut, laughter bubbling as paige nuzzled her face into the crook of the younger’s neck. they rewatched it ten times before even moving, paige pointing out how soft azzi looked in her sweater and her innocent smile.

“they gotta get it this time.” paige reassured as azzi typed up her caption.

princess treatment everytime i’m with her. 😇💗 #spoiled

then she hit post.

hard launch.

again.

they got up to stroll to paige’s car, scrolling through the initial reactions. thousands of likes, comments, even videos in response to the tikok flooded in almost initially. paige peeked over azzi’s shoulder as they sat, scrolling, her free hand still tangled with azzi’s.

“see ma?” paige murmured against her ear. “i think they really get it this time.”

azzi beamed, sliding into the passenger seat and sighing at the familiar scent of paige’s car. her favourite car freshener, her laundry detergent, the faintest whiff of her favorite perfume. Home.

“finally,” she whispered, curling into her seat with a grin.

princess treatment indeed.

but later that night, after dinner and after kisses and after laughter faded into quiet, they lay on paige’s couch. azzi was nestled between her legs, back pressed to paige’s chest, scrolling aimlessly on her phone while paige mindlessly played with the end of one of her braids.

“babe?” azzi asked quietly, tone dull.

“hm?” paige kissed her temple.

wordlessly, azzi flipped her phone around and shoved it in her face. paige stared, blinked, then winced.

“oh fuck, you were serious.”

–

“i know that look.” kk narrowed her eyes, watching azzi through the mirror as she twisted her curls into place, securing them with quiet precision.

soft music flowed from kk’s speaker, the low hum of kk’s r&b playlist mixing with the gentle clatter of makeup brushes. paige had a game in connecticut today, and they had decided to get ready together before boarding the team bus to the game.

“whatsoever do you mean, kamorea?” azzi asked, tone syrupy and suspiciously innocent. she didn’t even look up, just kept applying mascara to thick, long lashes that fluttered innocently.

kk squinted, reading between every single line. “nah, don’t play. you’re gonna do something to ruin the internet again aren’t you?”

a smile.

“maybe.”

kk shivers.

–

they had finished the game with a high. dallas took the victory as the crowd went wild – paige had once again scored the most points within the team and god she felt like floating. she exuded an electric energy, that dizzying, dazed smile stretched across her face as her eyes scanned the crowd, searching.

they land on azzi. always azzi.

always azzi, cutting through the overwhelming noise and cheer. it was cheesy to think, but it genuinely felt like those cheesy rom-com movies azzi adored, even years in their relationship. the roar of the arena faded to a hum when their eyes met, and paige’s smile softened like it always did. like she only saw her.

they were ushered out quickly once the game wrapped, fans still screaming, staff buzzing. azzi and kk lingered back in a hallway as the crowd thinned. kk had been filming a vlog the entire day, azzi giggling into the camera, cheeks hurting from smiling as they goofed around, waiting for them to be allowed back to the venue.

“hey, y'all can come back in now.” a staff member had said, halting kk’s rambling to her phone.

“thank you!” kk replied politely before turning to the vlog, tone changing in an instant. “guys, we’re about to go see paige bueckers!” she squealed dramatically like a fan, making azzi roll her eyes and laugh.

kk skipped to paige’s side the second they stepped in, faking stage fright with exaggerated gasps, wringing her hands as paige blinked at her, amused. still, a slow yet fond smile stretched across the blonde’s features at her friend’s theatrics.

she opened her arms, inviting an embrace as kk squealed and jumped into a hug, acting like she’d won a contest. azzi giggled from behind the camera, heart swelling when paige’s eyes flicked up to find hers, warm and instinctive. she opened her mouth to probably call her over for a quick peck before noticing the camera, tilting her head in a silent question.

azzi mouths “she’s vlogging.”

paige nods swiftly in understanding, wrapping her arms around kk as she rants about her first tech. azzi couldn’t help but swoon, heart softening at how paige was just glowing. she was radiant even after a tough game, so full of life as she interacted with the team. everyone adored her, loved her in a way that only pure adoration and respect could bring.

she doesn’t even wanna know how googly-eyed she looked right now, admiring her girlfriend, thinking of everything they went through. years of hiding everything, their affection, their love for each other.

and suddenly, azzi had had enough.

she was not about to sit quietly while the world missed the entire point of the most important thing in her life.

and she knew exactly what to do.

–

she rummaged around her suitcase, looking for the item paige had gifted her months ago.

the phone case.

it was a joke, really. they had been scrolling through social media when paige started giggling at her phone – a case a fan had designed.

“look at this, baby,” paige had grinned, tilting the screen as azzi took a peek. “some fan really made this.”

it was obnoxiously pink, bold letters stamped across it like a headline.

“excuse me,” azzi had scoffed, pouting dramatically. “position’s already filled, thanks.”

but paige had only laughed harder, tapping on the link to buy it as if it were the most obvious thing in the world. she bit her lip to stifle her giggles as she silently ordered it, filling in her details with a mischievous smile. it didn’t take long for suspicious silence to get noticed by azzi though, gasping when she saw the screen.

“the fuck?” azzi gasped as paige snickered. “paige.”

“it’s for you,” paige said sweetly, azzi widening her eyes sassily. “you’re welcome.”

“fuck no.”

now though, azzi had never been more thankful for a phone case. “thank the lord for a weird girlfriend.” she muttered under her breath, snapping it onto her phone with a click and smirking as the lettering caught the light. bright pink. unmissable.

so, expect a lil something today.

the three bubbles appeared almost instantly, azzi smiling at how fast paige responded despite her being at practice.

should i be scared?

azzi giggled, biting back a laugh as she typed:

perhaps i’m using the phone case.

a pause.

the phone case? the one you swore you’d never touch?

maybe.

azzi typed with a smirking emoji, giggling as paige replied with a thousand shocked face emojis.

game time.

–

she was getting dolled up with her stylist when she decided to snap the picture. skin glowing from glam, hair curled to perfection by her stylist, the light hitting her skin just right. and yeah, maybe it was intentional that her legs looked perfect in the picture, almost distracting from the actual purpose.

the phone case clear as day with bright pink letters – a loud and proud declaration.

paige bueckers’ girlfriend.

“you menace,” hayley smiled, peeking over her shoulder as azzi typed out the caption.

azzi smirked, cheekbones sharp and eyes playful as she posed one last time in the mirror. “it gets to a point,” she sighed, tossing her hair dramatically, “where i’m like, maybe i do need to spell it out for them.”

hayley laughed, running her hands through curls gently, nodding in agreement. “baby, you’ve spelled it, shouted it, danced it, and now you really put it out there in bright pink letters.”

“real.” azzi nodded in agreement, looking over the story one last time.

post.

and then she waited.

the notifications came in like an avalanche: shocked emojis, screaming replies. fan edits already popping up her for you page with another taylor swift song. she tried not to let her hopes up too much, knowing the pattern from her previous attempts. still, she let herself breathe, heart thumping in her chest like she’d just sprinted across a court.

a buzz cuts through her thoughts, bringing a soft smile to her face.

paige bueckers’girlfriend huh?

azzi could already imagine the proud smirk on paige’s face, fingers dancing across the screen to reply.

you lucky woman.

paige’s reply came instantly.

god, i agree.

and just like that, azzi felt the warmth rush to her cheeks, biting her lip as she tried to calm the way her chest fluttered. she bit her lip, fighting down the stubborn blush paige still managed to coax from her, setting her phone down as she fanned her face. she glanced at hayley, who was definitely watching.

“don’t.” she warned, burying her face in her hands.

“you’re so in love.”

it was a simple sentence. one she’d heard multiple times from fans, friends, and family alike. she heard it when they posted a picture, played a game together, went to a family event together, or when a friend caught them staring at each other for too long. it was written in the way she and paige looked at each other, or in every quiet hug after a tough game, every stolen glance across a crowded room. yet, she couldn’t help but think back to everything – how it had started between them, and how this giddiness had yet to fade. she had a sneaking suspicion it never will.

because it was true. it was real, and it was theirs.

and maybe that was enough, the sure feeling she had when they made eye contact in a crowded room, the softness of paige’s touch even after a rough game, the unwavering support of the people around her and the fans.

that was enough.

she looked at the mirror, still smiling.

“yeah,” azzi whispered, almost to herself.

“i really am.”

[exipredmilk]

throwback because i need whatever the fuck she was on

[exipredmilk]

Now please tell me how the fuck do y’all see what the wallpaper is I have glasses on and I still can’t see what that is 💀