lilirae00

[lilirae00]

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.

[lilirae00]

Home Court Advantage

Paige x Azzi

Word count: 2.5k

Warnings: fluff, sexual content 18+

a/n: I couldn’t get this future reunion out of my head so here it is. Here’s to hoping summer workouts finish up so our girls can be reunited. Please remember these are fictional stories inspired by real life people.

———

The sun was setting low over the Dallas skyline, painting the city in soft gold and peach hues. Paige stood at her apartment window, her arms crossed as she watched the light slip down behind the buildings. The air was still warm from the day’s heat, but she felt a cold jitter in her chest—the good kind. The nervous kind.

Azzi was landing in less than an hour.

Paige hadn’t seen her in person since that night two weeks ago at the Mystics game. The night they’d tangled themselves up in each other until all the space that had stretched between them for too long finally disappeared. Since then, they’d been counting down every day, every practice, every FaceTime call, and every sleepy “I miss you” text.

Now, it was down to minutes.

Paige didn’t even notice she was pacing until her socked feet were nearly burning from the friction of the hardwood floor. She looked down and laughed at herself. “Get it together,” she muttered, tugging a hand through her messy bun. Then, just as she reached for her phone to check the time again, it buzzed.

Azzi: landed, in the uber now 💗

Paige’s heart stuttered.

———

The knock on the door was soft.

Paige flung it open before the second knock could land. There she was. Azzi, in black joggers, white sneakers, and a navy UConn hoodie three sizes too big, probably Paige’s. Her curls were piled on top of her head in a lazy bun. She looked tired—but radiant.

They stood there, just looking at each other, both suddenly still.

Then Azzi dropped her duffel and launched herself forward. Paige caught her mid-jump, arms wrapping around her waist, holding her like something precious.

“You’re here,” Paige breathed into Azzi’s shoulder.

“I’m here,” Azzi whispered back, her voice shaky with emotion. “And I’m not going anywhere.”

Paige pulled back just enough to kiss her. It started soft—like a homecoming—but quickly deepened, months of distance collapsing into a single, desperate breath. Paige’s hands found Azzi’s face, her waist, her hips. Azzi tugged at the hem of Paige’s tank top like she wanted to crawl under her skin and stay there.

Eventually, they pulled apart just long enough to stumble inside, laughing breathlessly.

———

Later, after pizza boxes had been tossed and the sun had disappeared completely, the two lay curled up on Paige’s oversized sectional, limbs tangled, a soft throw blanket half-draped over them.

Azzi was nestled between Paige’s legs, her back resting against her chest, their fingers loosely intertwined. The TV played some old rom-com on mute, but neither was watching.

“You know,” Azzi murmured, tilting her head to look up at her, “I thought being apart would get easier.”

Paige’s fingers paused mid-stroke through Azzi’s curls. “Did it?”

“Nope,” Azzi said, turning fully in her arms. “It sucked every day.”

Paige smiled, brushing her nose against Azzi’s. “I feel like I kept it together for like, the first three days. And then I turned into a clingy mess.”

“Same.” Azzi traced patterns on Paige’s forearm. “I missed everything about you. Your smell. Your dumb TikToks. The way you complain about oatmeal like it’s a personal betrayal.”

“Oatmeal is dry paste pretending to be food.”

Azzi laughed. “There she is.”

There was a pause, filled with the quiet hum of the city outside.

Then Paige leaned in and kissed her slowly. Less fire, more gravity. Azzi melted into it with a sigh.

“You’re really staying?” Paige asked softly.

“I’m really staying,” Azzi confirmed, brushing a thumb across her jaw. “Workouts are here now, and I’m with you. No more two-week stretches. No more FaceTimes before bed instead of the real thing.”

Paige leaned back just enough to study her. “Good. Because I wasn’t kidding about needing you here. Like… actually needing you.”

Azzi pressed her forehead to Paige’s. “You have me. For real. I’m yours, remember?”

Paige nodded, and then grinned. “Good. Because I bought you something.”

Azzi’s eyes narrowed suspiciously. “Is it another jersey?”

Paige jumped up and disappeared into the bedroom. When she returned, she was holding something behind her back.

“Okay, don’t laugh,” she said.

“I’m already laughing.”

Paige pulled out a hanger. On it was a Wings jersey, custom stitched, with the name “Azzi” on the back and a tiny heart embroidered inside the number five.

Azzi’s face split into a grin. “You didn’t.”

“I did,” Paige said proudly. “Because if you’re gonna wear someone’s name, it’s gonna be your own. Right next to mine.”

Azzi took it from her hands like it was fragile. “This is… actually perfect.”

She stood and slowly pulled the jersey over her hoodie, letting it hang oversized off one shoulder. “How do I look?”

“Like you’re mine,” Paige said without hesitation.

Azzi walked over and straddled Paige’s lap, arms wrapping around her neck. “Damn right.”

Azzi’s mouth found Paige’s again, but this time there was no teasing, no restraint—just heat. She shifted in Paige’s lap, hips brushing, and Paige let out a quiet groan as her hands settled at Azzi’s waist, gripping tightly.

“You feel so good,” Paige murmured against her lips, tugging the jersey up just enough to get her hands under it.

Azzi leaned back slightly and peeled it off, tossing it to the couch beside them. She was still wearing the hoodie underneath, but even that felt like too much.

“Take it off,” Paige whispered, hands already sliding beneath the hem. Azzi didn’t need to be asked twice—she reached behind her neck, pulled it off in one motion, and let it fall to the floor. Underneath, she wore a sports bra that Paige immediately tugged upward.

“God, I missed you,” Paige said as her hands slid up Azzi’s back, pulling her in. She buried her face in Azzi’s neck, kissing the spot just below her ear, feeling the way Azzi shivered in her arms.

“I missed this,” Azzi whispered. “Missed you touching me like this. Like I’m the only thing in the world.”

“You are,” Paige said honestly, her hands sliding over the curve of Azzi’s back, thumbs brushing beneath the band of the sports bra before finally pulling it over her head and letting it drop between them. She leaned back just a little to take her in.

Azzi was breathing hard, her eyes dark with want. “Are you gonna keep staring at me or…?”

“Don’t rush me,” Paige grinned. “You’re too pretty not to look at.”

Azzi blushed—then grabbed Paige by the front of her tank top and pulled her forward until their lips crashed together again. Paige moaned, her hands roaming over warm skin, tracing the lines she’d missed for too long. Her thumbs brushed over Azzi’s nipples, and she felt the sharp inhale her girlfriend took in response.

Paige broke the kiss just long enough to murmur, “Bed. Now.”

Azzi stood, taking Paige’s hand and pulling her with her down the short hallway into the bedroom. The second the door shut behind them, Paige turned her and pressed her gently up against the wall.

She kissed down Azzi’s collarbone, down her chest, taking her time. She sucked gently at the skin just above her breast, leaving the kind of mark that wouldn’t be visible in a jersey—but Paige would know it was there.

Azzi gasped as Paige dropped to her knees, fingers trailing down the waistband of her joggers. She looked up, waiting.

Azzi nodded, breathless. “Please.”

Paige tugged the joggers and underwear down in one motion, letting them pool at Azzi’s ankles before pressing a kiss to her hipbone, then the inside of her thigh.

“Paige,” Azzi breathed, threading her fingers through Paige’s hair. “I need—”

“I got you, baby.”

“You’re so wet for me already,” Paige whispered, voice rough against Azzi’s skin.

Azzi nodded, breathless. “I’ve been like this since the airport.”

Paige grinned and kissed Azzi’s belly button, then the soft skin just beneath it. “That right?”

Paige leaned down further and kissed her center softly, then again, slower. She felt Azzi’s legs tremble as her hands found the back of Paige’s head, holding her close. Paige licked long, teasing strokes until Azzi was squirming, then focused her tongue on exactly where she knew Azzi needed it.

“Oh my God—yes—” Azzi gasped, head falling back against the wall.

Paige reached up with one hand to grip her waist, the other sliding between Azzi’s thighs to help her stay steady. She loved how responsive Azzi was—how every moan, every shake, every soft plea was like a song only Paige got to hear.

When Azzi’s legs started to give out, Paige stood and caught her, lifting her easily and carrying her to the bed. She laid her down gently, kissing her along the way.

Azzi pulled her in by the shirt. “Now you,” she whispered.

Paige stripped off her tank top and shorts, climbing over Azzi with a hunger that had been simmering for weeks.

Their bodies found a rhythm immediately—hands tangled in hair, mouths never far apart. Paige pressed herself against Azzi, their bare skin brushing, and both of them gasped.

“I love you,” Azzi said into her shoulder, clutching her tight.

Paige kissed her neck, her cheek, her lips. “I love you too.”

Azzi’s lips were parted, her chest rising and falling fast, but she didn’t look away either. The air between them was charged—thick with all the tension that had been building for weeks.

“God, I missed you,” Paige murmured as she leaned down to kiss her again, slow and deep.

Her hands roamed Azzi’s body—over soft curves and strong muscle, committing every detail to memory like she hadn’t already done it a hundred times. She kissed her way down Azzi’s neck, sucking gently at the spot just below her jaw until she felt Azzi twitch beneath her.

Paige’s hand slid down between Azzi’s legs, brushing over her center—wet and aching. Azzi inhaled sharply, her hips jerking forward at the contact.

“Paige,” Azzi said, a whine already lacing her voice. “Please.”

Paige loved when she begged. Not because she liked control—but because it meant Azzi trusted her with that vulnerability. Trusted her to take care of her, to give her what she needed.

She kissed down Azzi’s stomach, then lower, settling between her thighs. Azzi opened for her without hesitation, spreading her legs wide across the sheets.

Paige brushed her mouth over her again—just once, light as a feather—and watched as Azzi’s back arched, a low moan slipping from her lips.

Then she licked her properly—slow, deliberate, pressing her tongue against Azzi’s folds and sliding through her soaked heat.

“Fuck—” Azzi gasped, fingers threading tightly into Paige’s hair.

Paige groaned at the taste, anchoring her hands on Azzi’s hips as she started to move her tongue with purpose. She licked in slow, deep strokes, circling her clit every few passes, drawing out a string of high, broken moans.

Azzi was already close—Paige could feel it in the way her thighs trembled, the way her hips rolled up to meet her mouth. But Paige wasn’t ready to let her fall just yet.

She slowed, pulling back slightly. Azzi whimpered, hips chasing the contact.

“Not yet,” Paige said, voice low. “Wanna make this last.”

She slid two fingers inside her, feeling Azzi’s walls clench tight around them as she pumped slowly. At the same time, she leaned back in, flicking her tongue over her clit in fast, steady strokes.

“Paige—oh my God—” Azzi cried out, hands gripping the sheets now.

“That’s it,” Paige murmured against her. “Let go, baby. I got you.”

Azzi came hard, her thighs clamping around Paige’s head, her whole body shaking as the orgasm tore through her. Paige didn’t stop—slowed just enough to let her ride it out, kissing her through every wave of it until Azzi collapsed against the bed, boneless and gasping.

Paige pressed a final kiss to her inner thigh, then crawled back up her body, resting on her elbows so their faces were just inches apart.

“You okay?” she whispered.

Azzi nodded, dazed. “You just wiped me off the face of the earth.”

Paige chuckled and kissed her softly. “Not done yet.”

She reached down, grabbing Azzi’s thigh and guiding it around her own hip, pressing their bodies together—wetness meeting wetness, skin on skin.

Azzi’s eyes fluttered open, and Paige could see the fire starting to return.

“Ride me,” Paige said.

Azzi didn’t need to be asked twice. She flipped them over smoothly, straddling Paige with practiced ease, her thighs already slick and shining in the low light. Paige looked up at her in awe—completely bare, flushed, glowing.

“God, you’re unreal,” she whispered.

Azzi leaned down to kiss her, slow and sensual, before reaching between them to guide their centers together. She rocked her hips forward, and they both gasped at the contact—slick heat grinding against slick heat, everything desperate and perfect.

Azzi started to move, slow at first, hips rolling in lazy, wet circles that made Paige’s eyes fall shut. Paige grabbed her thighs, then her waist, holding her tighter with every stroke. The friction was everything—soft and intense and burning in the best way.

“Az—fuck,” Paige gasped, her nails digging into Azzi’s hips.

“I want you to come with me,” Azzi said, voice trembling.

“I’m so close,” Paige panted, lifting her hips to meet every thrust. “So close, baby.”

Azzi leaned forward and buried her face in Paige’s neck, moaning as their rhythm turned frantic. Every inch of their skin was slick, bodies grinding together fast and deep until the pleasure overtook them both.

Paige cried out as her climax hit, her back arching off the bed, pulling Azzi down with her. Azzi followed a beat later, clutching Paige’s shoulders, body writhing in her arms as she came again—louder this time.

They stayed like that for a long moment—clinging to each other, breath shaky and hearts pounding.

Azzi finally collapsed onto Paige’s chest, and Paige wrapped her arms around her tightly, pressing soft kisses to her temple.

Neither said anything at first. They didn’t need to.

They lay tangled up together, skin still warm, the room quiet except for their synced-up breathing.

Azzi’s body trembled beneath her, and Paige slowed everything down—her hands, her kisses, the way she held her. She wanted Azzi to feel safe in every second of it, not just wanted.

Their breathing was still heavy, but the urgency had settled into something quieter—deeper. Paige traced a slow circle along Azzi’s waist as they lay tangled in the sheets, bare skin warm against bare skin.

Azzi’s eyes fluttered open. “Hi,” she whispered.

Paige smiled and pressed a kiss to her temple. “Hi.”

Neither of them moved for a long moment. Azzi was curled into her side, one leg thrown over Paige’s, her cheek resting just above her heart. The soft rhythm of their breathing filled the quiet room like a lullaby.

Paige reached for the edge of the blanket and pulled it up over them, letting it cocoon their bodies in warmth. Azzi hummed softly, already drifting.

“You okay?” Paige asked, her voice low and tender.

Azzi nodded without opening her eyes. “More than okay.”

Paige kissed her forehead and let her own eyes close. There was no rush now, no countdown ticking down until one of them had to leave. No airport goodbyes or awkward time zones. Just this—soft skin, shared breath, the steady beat of a heart she knew better than her own.

For the first time in a long time, Paige didn’t feel like something was missing.

Azzi was here. She was home.