#Azzi
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Sweet Cravings and Sweeter Love

Pairing: Paige Bueckers x Azzi Fudd x Reader (Pazzi x Reader)
Fandom: UConn Women’s Basketball/ WNBA-Dallas Wings
Summary: Midnight meltdown over lava cakes becomes a cookie-fueled cuddlefest.
🏷️: @paigeshirleytemple , @cowboybueckers , @unknowgirlypop , @yailtsv , @nicebellee , @sitawita , @thatonesuschix , @vamptizm , @elalfywhore , @starfulani , @authentic-girl03 , @paxaz535 , @azziswrld , @jadasogay , @paigeluvvr , @melpthatsme , @lessi-lover , @courtsidewithlani , @elswhore , @italyyy , @lightsgore , @private-but-not-a-secret , @aubreygriffin , @issilovesherself , @graceeeeeesblog , @sayurireidotcom , @zizi-bee-yapping
I’ve never known a craving so loud that it echoed in my bones. All week, the thought of gooey, molten-centered chocolate lava cakes danced in my mind like some cruel, decadent hallucination.
I had them once about a month ago at this tiny little café back home during my break, and ever since, they’ve been living rent-free in my head.
Tonight was the night.
My night.
No distractions.
No practice schedules to plan around.
No new plans.
Just me, my KitchenAid mixer, and my lava cake fantasy becoming reality.
I had my apron on, Spotify humming old school R&B beats in the background, and I was even preheating the oven before gathering ingredients.
That’s how serious I was.
But fate?
Fate had other plans.
“No… no, no, no,” I mumbled to myself, opening the baking shelf and staring in slow-growing horror at the barren spot where my milk chocolate chips and Baker’s chocolate bars should have been. “What do you mean I’m out?”
I started moving boxes like a woman possessed.
Almond flour.
Brown sugar.
My backup stash of peanut butter chips. Everything except what I needed stared back at me.
And the worst part?
Only white chocolate chips. Mocking me.
“Maybe I hid some in the pantry,” I said to myself, dragging the step stool over and rummaging around the top shelf like a chocolate-seeking gremlin.
Ten minutes later, I was standing in the middle of the kitchen, arms hanging limp, eyes wide and lifeless.
I had everything else: the eggs, the butter, the flour, even ramekins. But no milk chocolate.
I checked the clock. 11:23 p.m. Every store was closed. Even the little 24-hour gas station near the campus gym was useless—they didn’t carry Baker’s chocolate or premium chips.
So what did I do?
Exactly what any emotionally fragile baker would do at that hour with an unfulfilled craving.
I dramatically sat down on the cold tile floor, leaned against the fridge, and sighed loud enough for the heavens to hear.
Cue the soft shuffle of socks on hardwood and the sleepy voices of my girlfriends from the hallway.
“Babe?” Paige’s voice was thick with sleep as she padded into the kitchen in one of my oversized hoodies, her hair messy and eyes half-closed. “Why are you sitting on the floor like a sad raccoon?”
Azzi followed a second later, wrapped in our fuzzy blue throw blanket like a fashionable burrito. “I thought we were being robbed with all that banging.”
I looked up at them from the floor, completely defeated. “I can’t make my lava cakes.”
They both blinked at me.
Azzi tilted her head. “I’m gonna need more context.”
“I’ve been craving them all week. I had everything planned. But I’m out of milk chocolate. No chips. No bars. I even checked my secret emergency baking drawer.”
Paige smirked. “You have a secret emergency baking drawer?”
“Do not mock me in my time of mourning,” I muttered.
Azzi walked over, crouching beside me with a warm smile. “Okay, come on, lava cake queen. Let’s step away from the oven before you start sacrificing white chocolate to the dessert gods.”
Paige leaned down, grabbing my hands to help me up. “Yeah, come on. Before you start rage-baking something terrifying.”
I allowed myself to be pulled to my feet, but I still pouted. “It’s not fair. All I wanted was a warm, gooey center and the satisfaction of cracking into that chocolate shell like a food commercial.”
Azzi kissed my temple as she led me to the couch. “You’ll get it, baby. But not tonight.”
Paige flopped next to me, throwing her long legs across mine like a human blanket. “Let’s redirect that baking passion. You do still have the stuff for your peanut butter cookies, right?”
“Yeah… but we still have some in the jar from three days ago.”
Azzi grinned. “Okay, but you also put little pretzel bits on top of those and made them crunchy. Tonight could be the soft batch version.”
My heart wavered.
Soft peanut butter cookies… warm from the oven… maybe with a little flaky salt on top…
I closed my eyes and groaned. “You’re both dangerous.”
“Only when hungry,” Paige said smugly, already nudging me to get up.
Azzi pulled me in for a warm cuddle. “Let’s make cookies, eat two each, watch one episode of Nailed It! then pass out like happy sugar sloths.”
“And tomorrow, we’ll go get your chocolate,” Paige added, playing with the hem of my hoodie. “All of it. Bars, chips, fancy cocoa powder—whatever your lava cake-loving heart desires.”
“I’ll even buy you a lava cake emergency kit,” Azzi teased.
I finally gave in, shaking my head with a soft smile. “You guys are ridiculous.”
“But you love us,” Paige said.
“Deeply,” I admitted.
So, that night, we didn’t have lava cakes. But we had soft, golden peanut butter cookies with melted chocolate chips from the backup bag of semisweet.
We curled up together on the couch under three blankets, giggling through Nailed It! while our sugar crash crept in.
And I felt okay. More than okay. I felt loved.
The Next Morning, Azzi kissed me awake with a big smile and a louder-than-necessary whisper.
“Baaaabe, wake up. Paige did a thing.”
My eyes cracked open. “What kind of thing?”
“The kind involving the Holy Grail of chocolate.”
That got me moving. I shuffled out of bed, still in my flour-dusted pajama pants, and walked out to the kitchen to find Paige leaning against the counter with a proud smirk and a brown paper bag.
She pulled out:
• Two bags of Ghirardelli milk chocolate chips
• Three Baker’s chocolate bars
• A fancy European dark chocolate bar with sea salt
• A “lava cake essentials” label drawn in sharpie on the bag
I blinked. “You weren’t gone long. Did you teleport?”
“I bribed the early shift manager at the grocery store. Technically, they weren’t open yet, but he owed me from the time I gave his niece front-row seats.”
Azzi grinned. “She pulled the ‘celebrity athlete’ card for you.”
Paige shrugged. “I was on a mission.”
I was already moving to preheat the oven. “You’re both actual angels.”
“More like gluttons,” Azzi said, hopping onto the counter. “We want lava cake too.”
That Afternoon, the apartment smelled like heaven—like warm, rich, sinful chocolate.
I carefully spooned batter into the greased ramekins, whispering a little prayer to the baking gods.
Paige was hovering over me, and Azzi was already filming me for her private story, narrating like I was on The Great British Bake Off.
“Look at her. Precision. Dedication. A woman scorned by white chocolate.”
“Shut up,” I giggled. “I’m focused.”
We waited in front of the oven like kids watching cookies bake. Paige leaned her head on my shoulder. “How long?”
“12 minutes. No more. No less.”
When the timer finally rang, I took them out, let them rest for exactly 60 seconds, then plated them—upside-down, careful not to break the delicate crust.
When I cut into mine and saw the glorious, gooey center ooze out like a river of joy, I nearly cried.
“I’m naming this one Azzi,” I said.
“Why?” she asked, taking her first bite.
“Because it’s soft and melts me from the inside.”
She groaned. “You’re too sweet.”
Paige, mouth full of cake, pointed at her ramekin. “This one’s mine. I’m naming it Victory.”
“You earned it,” I smiled.
And we sat there, lava cakes in hand, peanut butter cookies still stacked nearby, with the girls I loved, full and warm.
Not just from dessert.
But from them.
■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■
-Thank You For Reading!💚💙
-prettygirl-gabi✨️💗
#paige bueckers#uconn wbb#gabi writes#wbb#support the writers!#°~prettygirlgabi ask~°#gabi answers#uconn women’s basketball#uconn huskies#oneshot#azzi fudd uconn#azzi fudd fic#azzi fudd x you#azzi fudd imagine#azzi fudd x reader#azzi#azzi x reader#paige x azzi#azzi35#azzi fudd#Paige x reader#pb5#pazzi fic#pazzi fics#pazzi x reader#pazzi#wnba dallas wings#wnba x reader#paige bueckers dallas wings#dallas wings
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Yall are so .. paige and azzi are not going to post and act like other couples. Get over it . Stop screaming azzi name everytime other wbb "launch". Be happy for them and move on . Also stop the stupid "cheating" again as well . Wish both P and A love and peace, privacy even more all sudden media/ ppl wanna see them broken or azzi getttin hurt.
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Not Azzi being exactly a whole foot taller than me….. imagine my 4’10” ass standing next to Jana… who’s 6’5”
Where you hear that
#azzi fudd uconn#Azzi#azzi fudd#azzi35#uconn jana el alfy#jana el alfy 8#Jana#uconnwbb#uconn womens basketball#uconn wbb#uconn women’s basketball
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no one:
paige when azzi takes a photo of her:
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Without the music... We can truly enjoy the beauty and those wishes
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OVERTIME POSTING THIS BRUHHHHH

#overtime#uconn wbb#uconn huskies#uconn women's basketball#paige bueckers#uconn women’s basketball#paige buckets#azzi fudd#pazzi#paige x azzi
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Me too azzi
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recommendations
updated list of my favorite authors/fics
@ineedpaigebuckets writes really cute pazzi blurbs/oneshots
@bueckersworld normally i don’t really read smut but she writes the best soft smut
@luvergirl-535 literally anything she writes is amazing
@azzifudd really cute pazzi fics
@pbaz7 has the BEST series’ omfg (soft spot and finding peace in you are definitely my favorites)
@bucketbueckers amazing paige x reader fics and wrote a series i loved
@hereforuconnwbb the study of us is the best
my list will probably continue to grow but these are just some of my favorites that i’ve found so far
*if you want to recommend anyone to me you are totally welcome to!!
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Title: Soft Landings



Pairing: Paige Bueckers x Reader x Azzi Fudd
Fandom: UConn Women’s Basketball
Summary: After giving birth to baby Skylar, you returns home with Paige and Azzi for their first day as a family of three.
🏷️: @paigeshirleytemple , @unknowgirlypop , @yailtsv , @nicebellee , @sitawita , @thatonesuschix , @vamptizm , @elalfywhore , @starfulani , @authentic-girl03 , @paige05bby , @paxaz535 , @azziswrld , @jadasogay , @paigeluvvr , @melpthatsme , @lessi-lover , @courtsidewithlani , @shikaizer
There’s something about hospital mornings. They’re too bright and too slow. And everything smells like disinfectant and banana pudding that’s been sitting out too long.
I was already propped up in the bed, Skylar sleeping in her bassinet, when the nurse came in with our discharge paperwork. Paige was up and stretching like she hadn’t just spent the last two nights sleeping in a half-chair, half-human-pretzel formation. Azzi was brushing her teeth with a travel-sized brush and one sock on. She’d been crying quietly again this morning—happy tears, she said.
I felt like I’d been run over by several buses. But Skylar was here. Healthy. Perfect. And we were finally going home.
“Alright,” the nurse smiled. “Ready to go meet the world, Skylar?”
Azzi gasped and immediately scooped her up. “Nope! The world can wait. We’re on private access only for at least 24 hours.”
I laughed softly. My body still ached in strange places. My boobs felt like overinflated water balloons. I was sweating even though the room was cold. But my heart?
It had never been fuller.
Packing up was chaotic in the sweetest way. Paige had a whole system.
“Okay, baby bag, double-checked. Swaddle blanket. Car seat installed last week. You did watch the video I sent, right, Az?”
“I helped install it, Paige.”
“Yeah, but did you watch the video?”
“I was the video!”
I grinned from the bed, watching them buzz around like two over-caffeinated bees. Azzi was checking Skylar’s cap, adjusting it like she was preparing her for a photo shoot. Paige was busy making sure my water bottle, nipple pads, snacks, and every single form the hospital had given us were packed away in the overstuffed duffle.
“Alright,” Paige said, finally exhaling. “You ready, mama?”
The nurse returned with a wheelchair.
“I can walk,” I said immediately.
“Nope,” Azzi grinned, already helping me swing my legs to the edge of the bed. “Hospital policy.”
“But I feel fine—”
“Wheelchair.” Paige pointed. “Sit down, superwoman.”
I scowled, but I sat. The moment I did, I exhaled with relief. My body was not ready to be walking around like I didn’t just push a baby out 72 hours ago.
Paige picked up Skylar, who was strapped into her newborn car seat like a little burrito. Her head lolled slightly and her pouty lips parted in her sleep.
And then Paige did it.
The dad walk.
She held that car seat like it was the most precious, breakable object on Earth—elbows locked, eyes wide, moving like someone carrying nitroglycerin through a war zone. Azzi and I both burst into laughter.
“Stop laughing,” Paige said, turning slowly. “If I tilt her even slightly wrong, she’ll wake up. This is serious. I trained for this.”
Azzi leaned down and kissed my cheek before grabbing the wheelchair handles. “Alright, mama. Let’s get you and Miss Skylar home.”
The ride home was quiet, with only a few occasional whimpers from Skylar in the back seat. Paige drove like she was hauling royal cargo, glaring at every pothole and going 5 under the speed limit.
Azzi held my hand the entire way home.
I don’t know why I teared up when we pulled up to the apartment. Maybe it was exhaustion. Maybe it was hormones. Maybe it was the fact that the “Welcome Baby Skylar” banner Kayla taped to the front door was crooked and adorable and spelled ‘Skylaur’ before she crossed out the ‘u’ in Sharpie.
“I love you guys,” I sniffled.
Paige turned off the car and looked back. “We love you more.”
Once we got inside, I barely made it to the couch before Skylar started to fuss. Azzi unbuckled her and brought her over, already cooing.
“Okay, baby girl, let’s try skin-to-skin, huh?” Azzi said, slipping out of her hoodie and cradling Skylar to her chest. Within seconds, Skylar calmed, nestling right under her collarbone like she belonged there.
“She likes your heartbeat,” I whispered, watching from the couch.
“She likes her mommy,” Paige said, settling beside me and handing me a blanket. “And her mama. She knows she’s safe.”
“I thought we were gonna let people come by today,” I said, watching Skylar yawn.
Paige reached over to brush a strand of hair from my face. “We talked about it while you were sleeping. And we said no. You’re not entertaining anybody. You’re healing.”
Azzi nodded, still swaying with Skylar in her arms. “They all saw her enough at the hospital. They’ll see her soon enough. Right now, it’s just us.”
They treated me like a queen the rest of the day.
I tried to clean up after lunch? Paige took the sponge out of my hand.
I tried to fold some of Skylar’s blankets? Azzi gave me a look and pointed toward the couch like I was on a time-out.
I tried to vacuum? Paige literally unplugged the vacuum and said, “Babe. Sit. Down.”
Instead, they brought me food. My favorite food.
All the stuff I couldn’t have while pregnant—sushi, deli meat, extra espresso in my iced coffee. And they didn’t stop there. They brought out a tray full of sweet treats: brownies, sour candy, strawberry cheesecake bites.
“You’re gonna give me a sugar crash,” I groaned, halfway through my brownie.
“That’s the goal,” Azzi grinned. “Then you’ll have to nap.”
Skylar was fussy that afternoon.
Nothing crazy—just those newborn squeaks and whines that made you want to both cry and laugh at the same time. She spit up all over Paige during one diaper change, which Azzi caught in a photo and is absolutely never going to delete.
“She’s so cute,” I whispered that night, just watching her sleep in her bassinet beside our bed.
Paige was rubbing my back with one hand while scrolling through her phone with the other. “You’ve said that like thirty times today.”
“She is though.”
Azzi poked her head in from the bathroom, toothbrush in hand. “She’s gonna get a complex.”
“She’s already got one,” I muttered. “Every time we stop looking at her, she squeaks for attention.”
“Just like her mama,” Paige teased, kissing my shoulder.
“Hey,” I said. “Not wrong. But hey.”
What they didn’t prepare me for?
The breast milk thing.
I woke up at 2am sweating through my shirt and practically leaking.
“Oh my god,” I whispered, staring down at myself. “What the hell.”
Paige stirred next to me. “You okay?”
“I look like I went swimming in my own milk,” I muttered, climbing out of bed slowly. “My boobs feel like they’re gonna explode.”
Azzi helped me set up the pump, both of them whispering sleepy encouragements as I filled the freezer bags with what felt like way too much milk for someone who’d only been home for a day.
“I’m overproducing,” I said quietly, trying not to panic. “It’s too much.”
“You’re amazing,” Paige whispered. “Skylar’s lucky. We’ll make space in the freezer. Don’t worry.”
Azzi kissed my forehead as she labeled the bags. “You’re doing perfect, mama. We’ve got this.”
At 3:30am, I was still awake. Watching Skylar sleep. Her tiny hand rested near her face, lips parted, chest rising and falling in perfect rhythm. She made a soft little sound and my heart flipped all over again.
“I see you,” Paige said softly from behind me.
“I’m just watching her.”
“You’re supposed to be sleeping.”
“She’s so quiet when she sleeps. Like a little angel.”
“You’re also an angel,” she murmured, gently pulling me away. “A tired one. Back in bed, baby.”
Azzi was already fluffing pillows.
“Okay, okay,” I sighed as I climbed in. “But if she cries—”
“She won’t,” Paige whispered, kissing my forehead. “And if she does, we got her.”
“Promise?”
“Promise.”
That night, wrapped up between them, I felt everything hit at once—the exhaustion, the soreness, the overwhelming love. Not just for Skylar. But for Paige and Azzi. For the home we’d made. For this messy, sacred, beautiful little beginning.
Skylar stirred softly in her bassinet.
Azzi’s hand found mine in the dark.
Paige pressed her cheek against my temple.
And I whispered, “I’ve never been so happy in my life.”
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-Thank You For Reading!🩵🩶
-prettygirl-gabi🎀✨️
#gabi writes#uconn wbb#paige bueckers#support the writers!#gabi answers#wbb#°~prettygirlgabi ask~°#uconn huskies#uconn women’s basketball#oneshot#azzi x paige#azzi x reader#paige x azzi#azzi fudd x reader#azzi35#azzi#azzi fudd#paige bueckers x reader#paige x reader#pb5#Paige#mom!reader#mom!paige#mom!azzi#uconn wbb x reader#college wbb#wbb x reader#ncaa wbb#uconn wcbb#wcbb x reader
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I'm still here

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Wait can u actually go in depth about their zodiac dynamic if you have a chance!! It doesn’t have to be tonight if you can’t right now but I’m so interested 😭😭
For sure!!! I can make a post sometime tomorrow that breaks down each of their charts :) my friends ask me to do this all the time for them lol
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can we take a moment of silence for all of us in the pazzi community who were fighting battles when we were running with blurry pixelated pics and vids sounding like crazy people
#✯ thoughts#send anons#send anything#send me dms#send asks#send me asks#wbb#uconn wbb#ncaa wbb#pazzi#paige bueckers#paige#bueckers#azzi fudd#azzi#fudd#pazzi is real#pazzi crumbs#pazzi fics
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