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landinrris · 1 year

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Photographer! Lando fic snippet

A bit more from the first half of the fic that I wanted to share while I finish everything up (It's up to 30k with one plot bullet left. Help me). In which Carlos and Lando have a moment of quiet conversation and introspection that doesn't reveal too much.

In terms of the championship, Hungary is a disaster.

Carlos’ car goes into anti-stall when the lights go out, dropping him into the pack headed for turn 1. And then Stroll must forget to use his mirrors or something because the next thing Lando’s aware of from his spot in the garage is them touching and Carlos coming over Lando’s headset to report a puncture.

All the cars are so close together that Carlos is relegated to the back of the field. He manages to make it up to fifth, but the points differential between him and Max when Max finishes in first swings the championship in the opposite direction.

Carlos came to Hungary the leader and is leaving in second.

Lando can already picture the headlines, the talks of how this is the beginning of the end. Red Bull will run away with the championship now. Another Ferrari fake-out. It was nice while it lasted.

But the car is still good. Better than good. Carlos got it from thirty seconds off P20 up to P5 on a difficult to pass track. The speed is there, Carlos just has to come back from this and stamp his authority on what Lando is adamant is his.

Lando follows much the same protocol in trailing Carlos up to his room as he did in Silverstone. The mood in the lower level of hospitality is moderately subdued compared to past weeks. It’s plain to see who does and doesn’t care about the championship element.

It should be admirable how Lando holds himself back. Unlike last time, one of the full-time Ferrari photographers catches Lando before he can make a break for the stairs. Lando wants to tell him to fuck off, but he really doesn’t want to get fired over something so stupid. So, he reluctantly spends an additional five minutes going over details of their photos and what each of them are going to post and forward on to others.

When Lando eventually manages to pull himself upstairs, Carlos’ door is slid open, very much the opposite to how Lando expected it to be. He half-expected to need to beg Carlos to open the door and even then still be denied, but there’s no begging apparently.

From halfway across the floor, Lando can hear the soft cadence of Carlos speaking to someone. It takes Lando a few seconds to realize Carlos is speaking Spanish. He briefly wonders who Carlos could be talking to since he hadn’t seen Caco walk up after him. Only when Lando gets to the door and peers in does he see Carlos on FaceTime with someone.

He’s sitting on the floor like he was last week when Lando found him. He’s still in his race suit this time. Without pausing in his words, Carlos flits his eyes over to Lando and then back to his phone. Lando takes it as a good sign that Carlos doesn’t immediately ask him to leave.

Lando could walk away and leave Carlos to his phone call or even just stand there until Carlos hangs up. His heart’s still in his throat though, overriding Lando’s sense of self-preservation.

He picks his way across the room, careful to stay quiet and unseen by Carlos’ camera. He feels like a little kid when he sits down cross-legged at the end of Carlos’ stretched out legs.

Listening to Carlos speak is calming even though Lando can practically hear the pain in his voice. He’s still fresh from the race, his hair no longer wet but rather sticking up in multiple directions like he’s run his hands through it several times in frustration. Lando wants to reach over smooth it down.

Lando shifts his eyes down to Carlos’ feet still clad in his race boots. Maybe it’s childish to reach out and pull the lace to untie first his right and then his left. A hint of a smile tugs briefly at the edge of Carlos’ mouth. Lando’s fingers pick at the edge of the criss-crosses near Carlos’ toes like they’re a musical instrument.

When Carlos hangs up with who Lando learns are his parents, they sit in silence for a few moments. Like they’re each trying to see who’s going to speak first. As the seconds stretch on, Lando watches Carlos’ shoulders fall.

“I don’t want to lie to you,” Lando decides on saying finally. He really doesn’t want Carlos to snap at him like he had last week. Doesn’t think he has it in him to snap back this time.

“So don’t.”

“It’s gonna be hard, but I don’t think it’s over.”

Carlos is practically scoffing before Lando finishes speaking.

“No?” Lando asks, raising his eyebrows in challenge because he doesn’t want to do this right now. “Fine. If you wanna give up and not be Ferrari’s first champion in eighteen years, then be my guest. I’m gonna miss you up there though.” He tacks on the last sentence as an afterthought.

Rather than respond, Carlos leans forward towards his feet and grabs the tips of Lando’s fingers. Lando thinks Carlos is prying them off so he can stand but instead, Carlos just holds them. He holds them and then squeezes them in comfort. Lando’s heart feels on the edge of bursting, his stomach flipping even as Carlos lets go of him.

“Did I ever tell you I was a karting champion?” Lando asks. He’s pretty sure it’s a rhetorical question because they’ve never really discussed their junior careers, much less their karting days. But Lando’s grasping for a pivot and Carlos hums like he’s interested enough.

“Why did you stop?”

“Money was the main thing. So expensive and my parents wanted me to have an education to fall back on. Gets pretty hard to balance the two really quickly.” He remembers his parents telling him, how he had locked himself in his room for three days straight. Lando knows now that they’d been right to do so, but that doesn’t mean his heart doesn’t still ache thinking about it sometimes.

“They’re right. I don’t know how I finished school sometimes.”

“There was a point, you know, where I wasn’t sure if I was gonna win it,” Lando says, getting lost in his memories. “I was so small and it was so hard. I think I was third in the standings at one point towards the end.”

“And what happened?”

“My dad wouldn’t let me give up. He took me for extra practice sessions. Every time it rained, I was on a track. I think he knew at that point that was gonna be it, and he didn’t want me to regret anything.”

There’s a hint of understanding dawning in Carlos’ eyes. “Did you? Regret anything?”

Lando shakes his head. “No. It was one of the best moments of my life.”

“And did this actually happen, or did you just make up a big elaborate tale to get me to keep trying.” Carlos asks after seeming to mull over the story.

“Fuck you, next karting track we’re near during a free day, I’ll show you a fake story,” Lando laughs. He’ll have to dig through his photos for proof when he gets back to the hotel.

“I will like to see you try.” Carlos challenges and it’s the first time since being in his room that he sounds more like normal— eager for a fight, a little sarcastic. Lando’s heart shouldn’t be as liquid as it is from Carlos’ words.

“Haven’t gotten to add a full-time F1 driver to the list of people I’ve beaten before. That’ll be fun.”

Carlos playfully kicks out at Lando, and everything feels a bit more normal.

Later, when Lando gets back to his hotel room and is able to sift through his hard drive, he sends Carlos the picture of thirteen-year-old Lando in his white, yellow, and blue RFM suit smiling with a thumbs up while his arm is around the back of—

“You did not race Max Verstappen,” Carlos types back in seeming seconds.

Lando sends back a cry-laughing emoji. Carlos doesn’t have to know that it never got that far.

#slightly shorter than the last snippet but oh well #i literally can't put anything here from the second half because it'll be too spoilery..so hopefully i can finish this up soon #carlando #writing tag #husbands��#photographer lando fic

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becameundone · 2 years

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( nakamoto yuta. cis man. he/him. bisexual. ) ⇝ hey, isn’t that tomo katsumura? i think that the twenty-eight year old from los angeles, usa works as a film actor (currently transitioning to stage work at the single carrot theatre), but outside of that people describe them as dancing cigarette smoke illuminated by flashing city lights; neon rays in red and blue; the glow of an old tv set in a dark room; bottles of fizz and bags of shimmer; the rattling chime of silver jewellery. i hear they are erratic & impulsive, but they are also known to be charming & energetic. consider giving them a visit at their home in the marionette and get to know why they’re called the burnt-out star.

TW: drugs & alcohol, car crashes, mental health issues (incl. suggestions of derealisation), stalking, parental death/suicide

FAIR WARNING BEFORE WE GET ANY FURTHER. This is a NOT a brief, snappy post (it's almost 3k words). Maybe I could have tried a little harder to write a more concise summary but I really have a lot to say about Tomo. He's my favourite OC! (Also, I feel like there's a lot in this backstory that it felt wrong to just gloss over, if I want anyone to believe I'm trying to be at all sensitive.)

BASICS.

Tomo's full name is actually Tomoaki Katsumura (勝村智秋) but he prefers to go by Tomo Katsumura (勝村智). Pretty much the only person allowed to call him Tomoaki is his grandma. He also doesn't really take well to nicknames unless they're approved by him. He just really feel like Tomo is his name 100%.

Also, he's besties with Min! They originally met in London before both separately winding up in Anchorage (coincidences, eh??) and becoming very close. There's more detail about this in Min's intro!

He speaks both English and Japanese fluently, and doesn't really consider one to be his native tongue over the other. He's been entirely bilingual his whole life and spent large chunks of his childhood living in Osaka, Japan with his grandmother. He has been known to use Osaka-ben (dialect) when speaking Japanese. For a variety of reasons, Tomo also attended middle school/junior high in Osaka.

For the most part, Tomo’s a friendly and energetic guy! When he’s at his best, he’s great company. He likes to stand out in a crowd, has a winning smile and enjoys attention but also knows when to step back and look out for other people.

He’s kind of an emotional wreck. He does his best not to show it on the surface and the whole…being a good actor thing probably helps with that but, beneath the top layers of Sparkly Glam Tomo, shit’s all scrambled up. He doesn’t really know what to make of himself. Acting and having friends present are the only things, he believes, keeping him grounded and together.

Yet he’s pretty good at pretending shit’s fine, he’s still weirdly positive for a guy who feels all messed up — maybe he gets away with it because he’s a good actor. He’s the kind of guy who can have a full-on breakdown in his room by himself and then just reappear & ask you if you wanna go for ice cream because, hey, he’s bored. Basically, OKAY, that’s done with, that already happened. It’s OVER.

He doesn’t like crying in front of people which is rough bc he’s emotional ALL the time. He’s a total crybaby when he’s drunk. If you drink with him, there WILL be a point at which you have to scoop him up off the floor because he’s found something over which to start weeping. OR he’ll end up calling you to panic about how he can’t find his way home, only for him to realise like 5 minutes later he’s phoning you from the steps outside his apartment building.

He doesn’t like dating because…well, he likes the IDEA of it but he’s the type to really fall for someone and BASICALLY? He’s scared of being dumped! He’s a bright & appealing personality with just enough edge to balance it out but he’s a bit of an emotional screwball and he feels like getting people interested is easier than keeping them interested, leading to mixed experiences with dating so he’s…kinda…settled for sleeping around a little instead. Oh well, whatever works! (does it actually work? shhhh it’s a secret…)

Tomo is a competent singer. This is because, growing up, his mother made him take singing lessons in the hopes that he might follow in her idol footsteps. He was not in the least bit interested but it was fun enough for him not to complain about it (not that it would’ve helped).

He’s not very good at watching himself in films. It depends on the film and he can do it but uhhhh let’s just say he once watched the one horror film he was in at the cinema (and didn’t like most of it bc he’s a wuss about that sort of thing) but he laughed during his own death scene. There were tears in his eyes. Real tears.

He’s very much involved in the party scene, whatever country he’s in. it’s not something he talks about much (privately, i mean, bc DUH he doesn’t say it publicly) but he doesn’t exactly avoid drugs in anyway. It's all pretty casual and he only really does it at parties but he has been known to do coke and ecstasy and other stimulants. Will NOT touch weed. Don't ask. He does smoke cigarettes though and he’s a little dependent on that.

I guess he got involved in that kinda thing deliberately because he wants to distance himself from the clean-cut, shiny heartthrob pretty boy image as much as possible. Eventually, it just became a natural way of de-stressing and dealing with the constant frustration of his career. The unfortunate consequence of that is that he’s now got a bit of a Bad Boy/Wild Child image and he’s not entirely sure he likes that either. (The shift in image also means that some journalists will talk about him as though he’s ‘gone off the rails’ and, yeah, he hates that as well.)

BACKSTORY & EARLY CAREER

Tomo was the centre of scandals from Day One; born to a young American actor and a Japanese pop idol, he was the catalyst for his parents' shotgun marriage. Their marriage would only last about a decade with the pair divorcing when Tomo was around ten years old and his mother winning primary custody.

His mother, Mitsuko Furuya, was born in Japan and debuted as an idol in her teens. She was successful enough for her company to drag her abroad, just to test the waters. It was here that she fell for Ken Katsumura. Her pregnancy ended her career for several years and she would not return to the spotlight until Tomo was a teenager. Her relationship with Tomo is strained and they can't see eye to eye. She tried to push Tomo to follow her footsteps as a pop idol from a young age but he was only interested in acting.

His father, Ken Katsumura, was an actor-turned-director. He was a troubled person and an absent husband who put his work first, and this led to Mitsuko filing for divorce some years into their marriage. That, and the final admission that their early infatuation hadn't been love and their marriage had been for convenience all along. He poured himself further into his work while his mental health continued to deteriorate, falling into depression and alcoholism, and eventually killed himself at the age of 36. Tomo was thirteen years old at the time.

Tomo moved about a lot growing up, specifically back and forth between LA and Osaka (where his mother's family lived). He also lived in Japan and attended school there between the ages of 10 and 13. His mother had taken the divorce as an opportunity to return home and revive her career, focusing now on becoming a TV personality. During this time, he lived with his grandmother in Osaka while his mother was busy in Tokyo. They moved back to the States following his father's death.

He started acting professionally when he was sixteen, mostly with a few smaller TV roles but he had good connections and was able to get a small but still substantial role in the film directed by a friend of his dad. His big break, however, came at age 18 when he landed a leaded a role in the main cast of high school drama.

It was exciting at first, being on TV and being famous, but he soon found hated both the show and his character so the whole thing got tired fast. One of his biggest issues with the tv show was that he didn’t like being sold as a product / character that wasn’t anything like him, being shown off as this squeaky clean teen heartthrob type and not being allowed to have his own emotions & tastes.

His contract prevented him from quitting when he liked (and the writers were ‘stubbornly’ unwilling to kill his character off; he thought it’d be fun to act out) and he was signed on for a third season of the show. Tomo decided he might as well take things into his own hands went out of his way to get himself fired. It was his first act of public rebellion and, by design, his first criminal offence. He was twenty years old when he staged his own arrest for DUI. Being a minor, he didn’t need to drink much to get in trouble and he wasn’t drunk at the time. In order to ensure hje was noticed, Tomo drove his car into a tree, The crash awarded him with a broken arm and a suspended license but, more importantly, it got him fired.

However, the solution to one problem was the direct cause of countless others. He continued to take what roles he could, swearing off television entirely, but the opportunities were slim. His DUI stunt had scared off any producers that might have offered him clean, inoffensive work off the back of his breakout role and that very same role meant he was overlooked by more serious directors; he was simultaneously too dirty and too clean. The media had gotten hold of his story too, twisting it into the sort of drama that assured the public would see him as just another child actor gone wrong.

LATER CAREER

Tomo was twenty-two when he finally moved back to Japan, aiming to become an actor there instead. It was his way of leaving Hollywood behind and recreating himself anew, aided of course by his existing acting credits and (although he was not proud of it) a few connections provided by his mother. And it worked. In less than a year, they'd made a star of him. He'd even go on to win awards including Japan Academy’s Newcomer of the Year and Blue Ribbon’s Best Newcomer. He'd become a heartthrob again, and for real this time, but the work he was being offered was serious and compelling. Somehow, his risk-taking had paid off.

He would continue like this for the next few years. His relationship with his mother would continue to worsen as his career outshined hers to the point that people stopped asking him about her in interviews. He dove headfirst into Tokyo's clubbing culture, getting drunk and doing drugs and sleeping around behind close doors, away from the prying eyes of gossip rags. It was a careful balancing act; any hint at all of how he behaved was enough to destroy a career in Japan beyond all hope of repair. There was a clear divide between the Public and the Private and it was started to break cracks in Tomo's mind. Who was he really? Was the Public Tomo just another role but one he was forced to play as long as he lived?

Then, the stalker made themselves known. It was subtle at first, no different from other boundary breaking fans of that ilk; phone calls from strange numbers and doorbells rung at night. Tomo moved to a new apartment and the problems went away. At first. Then, the letters came. He stopped reading them early on. But then a package came and curiosity took over. Photographs. Photographs of Tomo. At first they were fairly ordinary pictures of Tomo in his private time. Unsettling, sure, but his team told him to ignore it. Then there were new photographs. Photographs that could ruin his career if they fell into the wrong hands. A letter that chastised him for ignoring the writer, threatened him if he continued to be so 'cold and distant'. The letters before had been just as overfamiliar, as though addressing a friend or some unreliable lover, and with the same level of accuracy and detail. Another letter came a few days later; they were just kidding, they just wanted to spook him. They liked sharing secrets with him. Sometimes they wouldn't send a letter at all, just an envelope containing a single photograph. Snorting coke. Kissing boys. The kinds of things a heartthrob shouldn't be doing.

This pushed an already on edge Tomo to his limits; if a total stranger could know all this about him, was he a real person at all? Or was he just some exciting character to be consumed by the public? Was the private life he'd thought so hard to keep hidden just a plot twist waiting to be revealed? He grew paranoid. Agitated. Couldn't sleep. Got a little too high every time. Every wrong move could be used against him. The stalker could be anywhere and they could be anyone. Those around him noticed the change in Tomo's behaviour but, because it was easier not to rock the boat, they left it alone. The only person willing to express concern was the stalker. You're not sleeping enough, their letters would say, you're not eating properly. Only one person cared about him and he was afraid of them.

It all came to a head a months later. Late 2021. A movie premiere. Tomo was the star, stood next to the director himself, and basking in the light of camera flashes. A sign in the audience caught his eye. It was handwritten; the words written there were benign enough but the handwriting was familiar. Tomo had seen it again and again and again. His head spun. The audience were gone to him, the cameras were non existent. All he could see was that bright red cardboard sign. Before it was even his turn to speak, he leaned into the microphone and said in a low, clear voice, 'Get away from me. Leave me the fuck alone." When they tried to take the microphone from him and his manager stepped in, it quickly escalated into yelling and snapping. He thrust a finger in the stalker's direction, his voice thick with agitation as he demanded his manager look at the sign. Look at the big red sign. But, when Tomo looked to see where he was pointing, there was no sign in sight. He didn't notice the tears streaming down his cheeks until they started dripping from his chin.

The rumours were quick to start swirling; had Tomo Katsumura lost his mind? Then came the rumours that he was doing drugs, that people had seen him around clubs and the like. There was no evidence, of course, and these were only the whisperings of ordinary people so there was no danger of people knowing whether or not that was true but his reputation had taken a hit. His agency's reputation was damaged too, as their ability to take care of their talent's mental health was thrown into question. Tomo's team advised him to lay low for a while until it all blew over and everyone forgot about his strange behaviour over the last little while. It came like a slap to the face. Acting was the only thing that kept Tomo grounded. He needed it. But they gave him a clear ultimatum; take the hiatus or else we'll drop you. It was his manger who suggested he go back to America and rest a while.

He returned to Los Angeles with his tail between his legs but still he managed to swallow his pride and go back to his mother's place. He didn't have his own place to stay anymore so, although he dreaded the lectures he'd get for making a mess of his career, he sucked it up and went home. There was no lecture; what ensued instead was the worst argument they'd ever had. He tries to stay with his manager, who'd gone back to LA with him, for a while but he feels no safer in Hollywood than he did in Tokyo. His fame still haunts him like a spectre, sucking him dry. On an impulse, he leaves. He runs off to Anchorage, figuring it's far away enough from everything else that he might finally find peace for a while. The only person he tells is his manager, who returns to Japan, and they both swear to keep his location strictly secret.

CURRENT LIFE

For the most part, Tomo is living off his existing earnings. Royalties from existing work, from modelling and brand deals he'd been allowed to maintain during his hiatus. It's a boring way to live, especially for someone with so much energy and such a consuming need to keep busy, but it's better than living each day just moments from falling apart. You'd think living in a place like Anchorage would ensure he still felt unsafe and, honestly, it does! But it's different. He's not being targeted. Nobody's putting the spotlight on him. If he were to die here, he'd just be the same kind of dead nobody as everybody else.

Recently, he's started helping out at the Single Carrot Theatre. He doesn't work there officially but he likes to volunteer to help with backstage stuff, just as an excuse to hang around. He's not sure it's a good idea for him to return to acting just yet, doubts it's a good idea to put him into some character's headspace when he's not even sure he's really in his own, and theatre isn't the same as film but he wants to stay as close to the thing he loves most as he can. It's not unusual to find him hanging around there, even if he's just wasting time.

Otherwise, he's still very involved in Anchorage's nightlife. Naturally dazzling, it's easy for him to be life of any party. All things considered, Tomo's still a bit of an attention seeker.

#« ᴛ ᴏ ᴍ ᴏ » / 「 intro. 」#anchorintro #i'll make a pinned post once i've written min's intro! it'll be shorter i promise ASDFG #some heavy topics in this one so please be aware of that #hopefully this all sounds sensible and makes sense!! i always worry way too much about my intros ASDFGHGF TT___TT

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imaginespazzi · 11 days

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Part 9: These Moments Of Ours

Masterlist - Part 1 - Part 2 - Part 3 - Part 4 - Part 5 - Part 6 - Part 7 - Part 8

Just crash, it's our time now (to make this work second time around)

(In which a people-pleasing author gives the people what they've been begging for)

Pairing: Paige Bueckers X Azzi Fudd

Themes: Fluff with a little bit Angst

Words: 7.2K Words

TW: Explicit Sexual Content, Swearing

A/N: Hello my lovelies <3 Thank you for being oh so patient with me because I know I really made y'all wait and hopefully it'll be worth the wait. I'm gonna keep this pretty short and sweet today so onto the usual. Please keep sending me your thoughts and theories; they're the best motivation a girl could ask for. I did edit but feel free to point out the inevitable typos/mistakes. As always, let me know what you liked, what you disliked and what you'd like to see going forward. Have a lovely rest of your week my loves :)

April 2030

UConn 84 Notre Dame 82

The blue and white section of the Moda Center crowd erupts in cheers as the final buzzer rings through the stadium. Confetti rains down on the court as the UConn Huskies are crowned national champions once again. Paige’s scream is drowned out by KK’s louder whoop as the two of them excitedly wrap their arms around each other, jumping up and down like they’re college students all over again.

“Oh okay, love the inclusion,” Ice rolls her eyes but it morphs into a grin as her former teammates pull her into their group hug, all three of them making a ruckus that’s drowned out by the crowd around them roaring in excitement.

“Can y’all be a little quieter. I’m tryna mourn my Irish in peace,” Sonia says lousily, glaring at them in irritation as she fiddles with her clover bracelet.

“Oh cheer up Citron,” Paige teases her Wings teammate, “at least y’all finally made it back to the Final Four.”

“Fuck all the way off Bueckers-”

“GO HUSKIES,” a loud voice interrupts Sonia’s grumbling as Jana rushes into their section, the Valkyries center smiling vibrantly as she crashes into her old friends, “BLEED BLUE BABY!”

“Bleed blue!” the three UConn faithful chorus back as Sonia glumly saunters over to Maddy Westbeld who had come over with Jana, the two Fighting Irish alum sharing a commiserating hug.

“This is why everyone finds you Huskies insufferable,” Maddy says with disgust.

“Because we just keep winning? There, there little leprechauns,” Ice taunts, light-heartedly patting Maddy and Sonia’s heads as both of them bristle and flash the Wings forward with a synchronized middle finger, “I’m sure you’ll catch up to us never.”

Paige is about to join in on the ribbing when KK turns to Jana with a frown, “where’s Azzi? I thought all of y’all came together.”

She shouldn’t care this much anymore. It’s been five years and Paige thinks it’s a little ridiculous how quickly her ears perks up at the mention of her girlfriend, thinks it’s a little pathetic how she leans in closer to Jana, embarrassingly eager to hear the answer to KK’s question.

“We did. She wanted to go call her parents to check on Stephie,” Jana explains.

KK rolls her eyes, her face as disappointed as Paige feels, “of course she did.”

“What’s that supposed to mean,” Jana narrows her eyes at the shorter woman, a protective edge to her tone.

“It means that this avoidance bullshit Azzi’s on is pretty fucking tired,” KK sneers.

“KK bro chill,” Ice steps in immediately, looking worriedly between her two friends as Jana’s eyes flash with fire.

“She’s checking on her daughter KK. She’s not trying to avoid anything,” Jana’s quietness is in stark contrast with the loud cheers around them and Paige swallows the guilt clawing at her throat. This is their fault. Her and Azzi’s. They’d caused an earthquake in their own lives and the aftershocks had rippled throughout their friends and families, creating rubble where there had once been solid foundations.

KK laughs bitterly, “she had to check on her daughter right now? The game ended like three fucking seconds ago and she couldn’t just wait?”

“You’re being unfair.”

“Why are you always defending her?”

“Because she’s my teammate and it’s not all her fault,” Jana spits out, eyes briefly darting towards Paige who digs her fingernails into her palm, “it’s not her fault that she doesn’t always feel welcome around certain people.”

“And how about the rest of us people who’d really like to see her once in a while?” hurt tinges in KK’s words, “she can’t put the other shit aside for one fucking second?”

Jana opens her mouth, ready to defend her Azzi again but before she can speak, a calm voice cuts in, “hi guys.”

Goosebumps rush up Paige’s arms as she takes in the sight of the ex-girlfriend. There’s nothing extravagant to Azzi’s outfit, a simple UConn sweatshirt paired with black ripped jeans and minimal jewelry but she looks as radiant as always. There’s an awkward tension in the air as Azzi warily takes in the way KK and Jana are still glaring at each other. Her eyes accidentally lock with Paige and the blonde can see the same guilt of this is our collateral damage reflected back in those dark brown orbs.

“Hi Azzi,” Ice is the first one to break the silence, wrapping the Valkyries shooting guard in a hug, “how’s Stephanie?”

Paige watches as Azzi’s eyes light up at the mention of her daughter's name, all of her previous apprehension gone as she begins to gush about the little girl, “she’s good. Somehow manipulated my dad into letting her stay up past her bedtime but good. She’s only two years old but already such a damn menace,” the brunette’s gaze wanders over to KK, “I guess that was to be expected huh? Any child of mine was bound to be one.”

KK cracks a half smile, bumping her shoulder against Jana’s as a truce sign, “you call it being menace, we call it being smart as hell right El Alfy?”

“Dude that’s what I tell her every time,” Jana immediately accepts the white flag, slinging an arm around the shorter woman, “Azzi just has genius children. Me, you, Nés and now Stephie.”

Ice gawks at the two of them, “seriously?”

“Well you see Ice, statistically she can’t have all genius children. Someone needed to be average,” KK mocks, high-fiving a giggling Jana.

“Are y’all seeing this bullying?” Ice rounds on Paige and Azzi, hands on her hips with dramatically wide eyes, “are y’all really gonna let them bully your favorite child like this?”

“We don’t have favorites,” Paige and Azzi say at the same, pausing abruptly at the resurgence of familiar synchronicity between them. They glance briefly at each other, shuffling nervously, before immediately looking away.

“I hate all of y’all,” Ice pouts, petulantly folding her arms against her chest.

“Aw cheer up Icey,” Jana pats the top of Ice’s head, “how about a round of shots at the hotel bar to cheer you up?” she turns to Maddy and Sonia, who’d been having their own conversation, with a devilish grin, “losing team’s paying.”

“Y’all are sore winners,” Maddy huffs.

Paige’s eyes dart towards Azzi, waiting for the younger woman to come up with a shallow excuse like she usually does to get out of having to spend more time with the blonde than necessary. And she knows that it’s unfair of her, knows that it’s only natural for someone to actively avoid being stuck in the same place as their past -thinks only a fool like her could want to be in their ex’s presence- but every time Azzi escapes being around her, Paige can’t help the disappointment that curls in her stomach.

“Y’all coming,” KK asks, a slight edge to her voice as she twists to look at Paige and Azzi.

“Of course,” Paige grins, locking arms with Sonia who immediately groans, “I’m not passing up free drinks. Especially not when the Irish are paying.”

“Az?” KK’s eyes are hopeful.

Azzi bites her lip and Paige can almost see the cogs turning in her brain before she schools her features into a soft smile, “yeah. I’ll come.”

***

Paige isn’t sure how it happens. Well actually, that’s not quite right. She definitely has an idea of how it happened. She’s not quite sure when KK, Ice and Jana had had time to devise the plan but she’s certain that’s how it happened. Because really, there’s no other reasonable explanation for how she and Azzi have ended up being the only two people, from their previous party of seven, that are still sitting at the bar. Maddy and Sonia had left first, muttering under their breaths about not wanting to be around insufferable winners. Ice had been the next to leave, making up an excuse about how she wanted to call her boyfriend. Then Jana had apparently needed the bathroom. When she hadn’t returned in a solid 15 minutes, it was KK’s turn. A barely disguised grin and a hard-to-believe lie of I think Jana got lost, I should go help her on her lips as she’d excused herself to the sound of Paige and Azzi’s protests.

The two of them sit in awkward silence for a bit until Azzi suddenly bursts out laughing, the corner of her eyes crinkling. Paige regards her with amusement, trying to ignore the way the sound of the younger woman laughing feels like hearing her favorite song come on in the car on a warm summer road trip.

“You’re a little young to be going crazy,” she remarks.

“Shut up,” Azzi rolls her eyes, lightly punching Paige’s shoulder, “it’s just- they’re still all really shitty liars.”

Paige laughs, “and they still come up with the dumbest plans.”

“Do you remember when they locked us in the Werth changing rooms when we had that stupid fight-”

“Hey,” Paige interrupts indignantly, “it wasn’t stupid-”

“It was definitely stupid-”

“You asked Carol to drive you to rehab instead of me.”

“Because you had practice at the same time.”

“I wouldn’t have minded being five minutes late to practice.”

Azzi snorts, “more like half an hour and you sure as shit wouldn’t have been fine when coach would have yelled at you and made you run suicides after.”

“I wouldn’t have cared,” Paige shrugs, “running suicides would have been worth it for an extra hour with you.”

Azzi stares at her, mouth opening and closing several times before she finally looks away, a soft sigh falling from her lips, “you’re doing it again.”

“I’m not doing anything,” Paige says, unable to keep the defensiveness from creeping into her words.

“You are,” Azzi slips off the barstool, “you are and you don’t even know it.”

“Azzi,” Paige curls her hand around the other woman’s bicep, pulling her in to stop her from leaving and it’s a bad idea because now they’re too close and her heartbeat quickens immediately at the fact that if she leaned in just a little bit more, there would be no more space left between them, “what am I doing?”

“You’re- you-” Azzi stutters, gulping as her eyes briefly flicker down to Paige’s lips, “you’re making me feel.”

“Making you feel what?” Paige presses.

For a second, Paige thinks Azzi might just give in to her heart, might just tell the truth but then something hardens in her face, and the next word that slips out of her mouth has both of them going rigid, “how’s your wife Paige?”

“Az-”

“I should go to bed,” Azzi says firmly, trying to wriggle out of Paige’s tightening grip.

“Azzi-”

“I have an early flight and I should probably wake up a little earlier than I normally would cause you know Jana’s gonna need me to wake her up,” Azzi rambles still trying to twist her arm out of Paige’s hold.

“Hold on-”

“Can you just let go of me-”

“I’m trying to tell-”

“I really need to get to bed-’

“Az-”

“I have to go-”

“Azzi I’m getting a divorce,” Paige bursts out; the admission feels light a heavy weight off her chest.

Azzi stops fighting against the blonde’s grip, “oh.”

“We’ve- um-” Paige’s throat feels dry as Azzi’s eyes continue to bore into her, “we’ve been separated for a while and I finally-uh- finally filed the papers a little while ago. So um- to your question- I uh- I don’t know how she is because I- I don’t- there uh- there isn’t- there isn’t a wife.”

There’s silence for a bit as Azzi’s head bops up and down as she processes Paige’s revelation, “I’m um-” she clears her throat, “I’m sorry.”

“It’s okay. It’s not like it’s your fault,” and that’s not completely true -not when Olivia had repeatedly thrown the past back in Paige’s face- but she doesn’t think Azzi needs to know that, doesn’t want the younger woman to feel guilty for things beyond her control. She’s confused when Azzi flinches, like a memory has just pinched her nerves.

“Right,” Azzi bites, “I really should- I really should be going to bed.”

Something gloomy settles across Paige’s heart as she nods at the brunette’s words, slipping out of her own chair as they start walking towards the elevator in the lobby. She feels antsy, like she’s leaving something incomplete. The silence rings loud between them as they wait for the elevator doors to open, keeping as much distance as they can from each other. It feels like ages before the familiar ding! finally rings out around them. Despite the abundance of room inside, the doorway into the elevator is rather condensed and their shoulders brush against each other as they make their way inside. Audible sighs involuntarily roll off of their tongues at the brief second of contact as they both shiver from each other’s familiar touch. There’s enough space now that they could easily move away -they probably should move away- but instead they stay pressed together. The sound of their uneven breathing fills the elevator as the doors close in front of them.

“I’m uh- I’m on the third floor,” Azzi says as she presses the #3 button, “you?”

“Fifth,” Paige breathes out, eyes fixated on the goosebumps that appear on the back of Azzi’s neck as her hands shake while pushing the #5 button.

The elevator jolts up and Paige immediately reaches for Azzi’s hips to steady her, eliciting a small gasp from the other woman. She waits for Azzi to move away but the brunette stays put and Paige doesn’t move her hands.

The doors open on the third floor. Both of them suck in a sharp breath.

Azzi doesn’t get out.

***

Paige wakes up to the dreadful sound of her alarm clock blaring around her room. It takes a second before the memories of last night start pounding against her skull. Her body aches in the best way possible. The room is still dark -just like it had been last night- and she closes her eyes, trying to revisit the feeling of Azzi’s lips pressed against her forehead, right before the younger woman -with her hair disheveled and bitemarks littered across her jawline- had left Paige’s room.

Paige hadn’t asked Azzi to stay. She wonders if she should have; wonders if Azzi would have agreed if she’d asked. But she hadn’t asked and Azzi hadn’t stayed. She regrets it a little bit. She wonders if Azzi does too. And Paige thinks that maybe that’s just the melancholic truth about their tragic story.

Maybe they’re destined to always regret.

***

April 2033

Paige thinks Azzi’s guest room air conditioning must be broken or something. There’s no other explanation for why, despite having kicked off every single blanket, she feels like she’s tossing and turning in red hot lava. She feels restless, like she has a purpose that she’s leaving unfulfilled. All the different scenes from tonight are rushing through her head, but her heart keeps stuttering on the last one; an image of the way Azzi had looked at her before they’d kissed good night.

Azzi had asked her to stay even if she’d hidden it under a lame disguise of it being too late and Paige being too angry to drive home alone. And it’s not completely false that her blood is still boiling, their little encounter with fucking asshole still dangerously lingering in her mind as she thinks of the 101 ways she would have liked to murder him. But they both know that the minute Azzi had run her hand down Paige’s back, the moment she’d called her baby, the moment she’d given her the reassurance she was too scared to ask for but needed desperately, Paige had felt all the anger in her body replaced by that familiar sense of calm only Azzi had ever been able to provide.

And after that had been decided, they’d both hesitated in the hallway, looking back and forth between Azzi’s master bedroom and the guestroom. Paige doesn’t know what had possessed her, why she’d decided tonight of all nights to play this false chivalrous rule-abiding good girl persona when it was the last thing she wanted to do. Because the last couple of weeks had been hell. The stupid rules had been hell. Going slow had been hell. Having to pull away from Azzi and walk out the door every night when all she wanted to was to lose herself in the brunette’s arms had been hell. But she’d done it for Azzi. She’d done it because there isn’t a thing in the world that she wouldn’t do for Azzi. Except tonight had been different. There had been that look on Azzi’s face -the way the younger woman had bitten her lips, the way her eyes had been hooded over, the way her cheeks had been flushed as her gaze roamed over Paige’s body- and it had morphed into one of pure disappointment when Paige had said she’d take the guestroom.

You’re a fucking idiot Paige Bueckers, she thinks to herself as she bolts right up, the image finally burning a little too bright behind her eyelids to continue this façade of trying to sleep. Perhaps it’s pointless. It’s late and Azzi loves her sleep; there’s no way she’s awake. But Paige slides out of bed anyways, breathing unevenly as she turns on the nightlight and walks towards her door. She doesn’t have a plan, doesn’t have any idea what she’d even say if Azzi is, by some miracle of god, even awake. But fuck it, Paige needs to see this through. She pauses at the door, hands wrapping around the cold handle as she gives herself one more chance to back out. Really, she doesn’t even know why she’s so nervous. It’s Azzi. Her Azzi.

Paige twists the handle to tug the door open.

Azzi’s eyes widen in surprise, her fisted hand -that had clearly been raised to knock on the mahogany door- freezing in place as she swallows and Paige is mesmerized by the way it highlights the veins in her neck. Her eyes move downwards, fixating on where Azzi’s oversized t-shirt hangs looser on one-side, leaving her right shoulder and collarbone on display. The shirt right above her thighs, giving Paige the perfect display of Azzi’s toned long legs looming beneath and the blonde gulps at the sight.

“Hi,” Azzi speaks first, the low graveliness in her tone causing a coil of want to wrap itself around Paige’s stomach.

“Hey,” Paige whispers back, “couldn’t sleep?”

Azzi bites her lip, “no- I just uh-, people always say- like when Jana sleeps over or something- she always says that- that the guest room is um- it’s too cold so I just- I wanted to make sure- wanted to ask-” she clears her throat, taking a step forward as she look earnestly at Paige, “are you cold?”

“So cold,” Paige confirms, moving closer to Azzi so their chests are almost touching.

“You could um-” Azzi licks her teeth, “you could stay in Stephie’s room-”

“I could?” Paige asks, pressing herself flush against the younger woman, hands wrapping around her waist. There’s barely space for air between them but she wants to get closer, wants to stitch herself into Azzi’s skin and keep them intertwined forever.

“You could but,” Azzi’s hand trails Paige’s biceps, causing the blonde to shiver, before finally interlocking around her neck, “I think- I think her bed might be a little small for you.”

“Way too small,” Paige breathes against Azzi’s skin as she nips at the brunette’s jawline, before ghosting her lips against her neck, leaving a trail of mine mine mine down her throat.

“Paige,” Azzi’s voice is breathless as she tilts her head, hissing when Paige bites harshly right above her collarbone, immediately soothing it with her tongue, “I think- I think-fuck” she cuts herself with a moan as Paige turns them around, maneuvering them back towards the bed that suddenly looks far more inviting then it had before, “I just think-”

“You think too much,” Paige says softly, finally removing her lips from Azzi’s skin -she misses the taste of it immediately- so she can smile teasingly at the brunette.

“Do I?” Azzi grins dopily.

Paige rolls her eyes, continuing to walk them backwards, “way, way too much.”

They’re forced to a halt when the back of Azzi’s thighs collide against the backframe of the bed. It feels like a turning point, like they could unlock a new chapter or keep themselves on the one they’re already on. And while Paige would really to skip forward, she’ll be okay with whatever happens next as long as the story being written is still theirs, still about her and Azzi.

“Paige,” Azzi whispers again -and Paige loves the way Azzi’s lips curl around the syllable of her name- as she bunches the blonde’s shirt in her hands, “make me stop thinking.”

“Whatever you want baby,” Paige promises before they both go tumbling into the mattress, their lips colliding in a heated kiss. It feels like they’re trying to meld themselves into each other, like their bodies are carving out an indent of you and i just always feel right against the bedsheets.

“I want this off,” Azzi breathes out between kisses, hands lifting the edge of Paige’s shirt, “off, off, off.”

“So bossy,” Paige smirks, leaning up off of Azzi to take off her shirt in a tantalizingly slow manner, enjoying the way the brunette’s eyes darken as they glide across her abs first and then her breasts, “enjoying the sho- fuck Az.”

The words are stolen from her mouth as Azzi swirls her tongue around one erect nipple, her hands cupping Paige’s ass to balance the blonde on top of her. She’s always known exactly how to get Paige to shut the fuck up. Paige groans as Azzi flips them over, shifting herself to press her thigh in between Paige’s legs and the blonde can’t help but grind up against it, desperate for some much needed friction, as Azzi sucks a possessive bruise against her jaw.

“Missed this,” Azzi whispers, as she kisses down Paige’s neck, “and this,” a kiss pressed against her collarbone, “and these,” Azzi presses her lips softly to each breast, “and this,” against Paige’s stomach, “and these,” two featherlight kisses are peppered against her hip bones, “and I really missed these.”

“Azzi,” Paige moans as the brunette’s lips glide across the inside of her thighs, taking her sweet time marking only i could ever make you feel like this against every inch of Paige’s skin.

Azzi stops right above the edge of Paige’s boxers before slowly peeling them off as sparkling brown eyes staring up at her with a myriad of unspoken emotions that Paige could spend a lifetime trying to memorize, “missed all of this. Missed everything about you. Missed you so much baby.”

Vulnerability echoes in Azzi’s voice as she slowly moves herself back up, hands coming to cup Paige’s face as they press their foreheads together. And it’s not like she hadn’t known that Azzi must have missed her in these last couple of years. But there’s a part of Paige that had thought that there was no way Azzi could have missed her as much as she missed Azzi. Because missing Azzi had felt all consuming, like there was a constant noose around her neck that got tighter and tighter with every day that passed by. But there’s something about the way the words reverberate around the room, something about the way Azzi looks like she can finally breathe again after saying it out loud that it hits Paige; it hits her that they’ve both been suffocating without each other.

“I missed you too,” she breathes out, tears pooling at the edge of her eyes, “missed you so fucking much Azzi.”

“Yeah?” Azzi whispers, lips catching the lone tear that falls from Paige’s eyes, “how much?”

Paige shudders as Azzi’s fingers teasingly ghost over her wet folds, “s-so much. Azzi please. Need it so bad. Need you so bad.”

“Whatever you want baby,” Azzi repeats Paige’s own words back to her before she finally gives her what she’s desperately been craving, two fingers rhythmically pumping in and out of her pussy as her thumb rubs circles against Paige’s clit.

“Fuck, fuck, just like that-” a litany of curses waterfall from Paige’s lips as she bucks her hips up against Azzi’s hand, “fuck please.”

“Please what?” Azzi asks coyly, fingers moving at a faster face as she hides a grin against Paige’s neck, “gotta tell me what you want baby.”

“W-want your mouth please- please Azzi-baby please,” Paige begs, writhing underneath her when Azzi immediately complies, lips attaching to her clit as she adds another finger, “fuck Azzi- I’m so close.”

“I know baby,” the words vibrate against Paige’s core, sending another bout of ecstasy shooting up her spine as she feels that familiar buildup in her stomach.

“Azz I’m gonna-”

“I know. Let go baby. I’ve got you. I’m gonna catch you I promise,” Azzi whispers.

And it’s those words, that promise, that sends Paige over the edge, a cry of Azzi’s name falling from her lips. Because she knows Azzi means them for a lot more than just this moment, that those words -the promise- are born out of something deeper than lust. And maybe neither of them are quite ready to acknowledge that yet, not ready to make vows that teeter dangerously close to the ones they watched themselves break in the past, but it lingers between them, like a string made of we’ve always been inevitable connecting their hearts to each other.

Azzi slowly eases her fingers out of Paige, pressing open-mouthed kisses against the older woman’s stomach as she recovers from her high, before looking up at her with a smirk. Never breaking eye contact, Azzi slips her fingers into her own mouth, leisurely sucking at them as she watches Paige’s face contort with desire.

“Was I good?” she asks teasingly and Paige growls.

“How have you gotten better at that? Actually you know what never mind,” Paige shakes her head, “I don’t want to know that.”

Azzi laughs, hiding her face against Paige’s neck, “only that good for you.”

“Good,” Paige tightens her arms around the woman on top of her and then scrunches her face as she feels the material of Azzi’s shirt itch against her wrists, “well this is unfair.”

“What is?” Azzi hum backs.

“I’m fully fucking naked and you haven’t taken a single thing off,” Paige grumbles as she coaxes Azzi’s face out of her neck, hands gripping the edge of her shit, “take this off.”

Azzi stills, her previous serene expression replaced by something more nervous, as she lifts herself up so she’s straddling the older woman’s hips, “Paige-”

“What’s wrong?” Paige’s senses are on high alert immediately as she rises up herself, maneuvering them so Azzi’s fully on her lap.

“I just-,” Azzi draws in a deep breath, looking downwards as she chews her lips.

“Hey,” Paige whispers, lifting the younger woman’s chin back up before pressing their foreheads together, “talk to me baby.”

“Can we just-” Azzi plays with the end of Paige’s hair, “can we maybe just-” she cocks her head towards the nightlight on the desk, “do you think we could turn the light off?”

“What?” Paige asks confusedly, “Azzi I’ve seen you naked-”

“Not since- not since I had Stephie,” Azzi interrupts, cowering under Paige’s intense stare, “the lights- the lights were off that one time and the other time I don't think- I don’t think we were sober enough for me to care or for you to remember so can we just-”

“Azzi,” Paige cups the younger woman’s face, “baby there is no amount of alcohol in the world that could make me forget you. Trust me I’ve tried,” she slips her hand under Azzi’s shirt, caressing the skin underneath, “but every time I see you baby, I memorize every little part of you,” she dances her fingertips across where she remembers those stretch marks -the ones Azzi is so afraid of her seeing again- are littered across her stomach, “and whether I’m sober or drunk or something in between, I always think every little bit of you is perfect.”

“Paige,” Azzi says softly, something akin to awe coating her voice.

“Just wanna make you feel as good as you made me feel baby. Please,” Paige wraps her fingers around the edge of Azzi’s shirt again, “can I?”

“Okay,” Azzi concedes quietly, lifting her arms so Paige can finally tug the offending shirt off.

Paige gives herself a moment to look at the woman in front of her, the woman whose body she’s seen countless times yet she swears that it feels like a different adventure every time. And then she lets herself have a taste, running her tongue lazily across Azzi’s skin, as she slowly maneuvers them so she can hover above the younger woman. A soft smile flitter across her face as she rubs her fingers over the tattoo printed across Azzi’s ribcage. It’s a purple S tattoo, with butterfly wings fanning out on either side. For Stephie.

Keeping her eyes trained on the darker-skinned , she brushes her lips across the stretch marks on the darker-skinned woman’s abdomen and she hopes that Azzi can read the all of your imperfections are still made for me that Paige is spelling out against her skin. She uses her teeth to pull down Azzi’s panties, smirking to herself when she hears the younger woman's breath hitch above her. Eyes still interlocked with Azzi’s, Paige is purposefully slow as she licks a stripe up Azzi’s folds, relishing the way the other woman’s eyes roll back into her head.

“So fucking wet,” she hums, “all for me?”

“You know-” Azzi shudders when Paige’s lips brush against her clit, still teasing, “you know it is.”

Paige smirks, “only for me.”

“Please,” Azzi begs as Paige continues to lazily lap at her pussy, giving her something but not quite enough.

“Say it,” Paige demands, harshly biting against Azzi’s inner thigh as she brings up a hand to rub infinity signs around Azzi’s clit, “say it’s only for me.”

“It’s only for you-” Azzi cuts herself off with a scream as Paige plunges her tongue deep inside her, setting a tempo she knows will have Azzi seeing stars.

“Doing so good for me baby,” Paige coos as she adds two fingers with her tongue, “always so good for me.”

“Fuck,” Azzi fists the bedsheets, trying to gain some semblance of control as she writhes under Paige’s touch, “feels so good. Paige please.”

“I know,” Paige whispers, “I know what you need baby.”

And that’s the thing about them. That’s why it’s good every single time. Because Paige knows every little crevice of Azzi’s body like it’s her own, knows exactly where to touch and how to touch to elicit those little gasps of pleasure that she wishes she could record and listen to on loop. And it doesn’t matter how long they go without each other in between, coming back always feels like home. But as much as she loves the feeling of coming back, Paige never wants to feel it again. Because this time, she hopes there is no in between without each other. She hopes that this time, they both stay.

“Paige,” Azzi moans again, her name falling from her mouth like a prayer.

“I’ve got you,” Paige whispers, capturing Azzi’s lips with her own as she continues her ministrations with her hand, “fall apart for me baby. I swear I’ll put you back together.”

There’s nothing quite like watching Azzi come undone and Paige drinks in the sight of the other woman quivering as she grabs the blonde’s bicep so tight that it’s bound to leave a victory mark. Paige coaxes her through it, nibbling at Azzi’s jawline as the younger woman slowly climbs down from her peak, going limp in Paige’s arms.

They’re quiet for a while, languorously pressing delicate kisses against each other's skin, soft hands exploring all over each other’s familiar bodies as they tangle their legs together; close not being close enough.

“Where do you think you’re going?” Paige whines when Azzi starts to move out of her grasp.

“I got what I came for,” Azzi teases, “so I’m going back to my own bed.”

“Shut the fuck up,” Paige scowls, pulling the younger woman back into her chest.

Azzi laughs, kissing away Paige’s pout as she wriggles out of her grip and slips out of the bed, “relax. I’m just getting something to clean us up with.”

“Well hurry up. I’m already cold,” Paige mewls before letting out a wolf-whistle as her eyes drift over Azzi’s naked retreating form, appreciating the tautness of the brunette’s back muscles down to her perfectly curved ass.

“You’re 31 years old Paige Bueckers,” Azzi chides as she walks into the ensuite bathroom but Paige can hear the blush in her voice.

“And you’re hot as fuck Azzi Fudd,” Paige calls out with a smirk, keeping the and you’re all mine as a secret in her own thoughts.

“You’re not bad yourself Bueckers,” Azzi returns from the bathroom with a smile and a damp cloth as she hops back onto the bed, gently dabbing it between Paige’s thighs.

It’s a simple act but Paige feels tears prickle at the corner of the eyes. Because it signifies so much more than just this moment. For most of her life, Paige had grown accustomed to the idea that no one would take care of her unless she took care of them first. She didn't know it was possible that someone could reach out first, that they could hold her first without any expectation of anything else in return. Until Azzi.

“Baby?” Azzi’s voice is wrapped in concern as she takes notice of Paige’s tears, immediately rising up to brush them away, “what’s wrong?”

“Nothing I just-” Paige loops her arms around Azzi’s neck, shuddering slightly at how earnest the younger woman’s face is, “I really fucking missed you.”

Azzi’s eyes soften as she caresses Paige’s cheek before pressing her lips against her forehead, “I really fucking missed you too.”

***

Paige’s eyes flutter awake to sunlight peeking through the blue curtains of Azzi’s guest bedroom. She groans, shifting to bury her face further into the brunette’s stomach, pinching it when Azzi laughs above her. Lifting her head slightly, Paige can’t help but smile at the woman above her. Azzi’s got her glasses on, a book in her hands as she peers down at Paige with nothing but pure fondness. Something aches in Paige’s chest as countless visions of mornings just like this fill her head. She’d resigned herself to believing that she’d never get this back again, that she’d have to rely on memories of the past to fill the empty void that rattled hollowly against her chest every time she’d woken up without Azzi by her side.

“Morning sleepy head,” Azzi says softly, putting her book down to brush her fingers through Paige’s hair, “assuming you slept well considering you didn’t even notice when I left to grab my glasses and a book from my room.”

Paige frowns, “you left me?”

“I was bored,” Azzi defends herself, “you were fast asleep and I had nothing to occupy myself with.”

“I can believe you left me,” Paige petulantly accuses again.

“I didn’t leave-”

“You left me!”

“Okay fine,” Azzi concedes with an eyeroll, “but I came back.”

“Yeah you did,” a soft smile takes over Paige’s features as she leans up to brush her lips against Azzi’s, “you came back.”

“I did,” Azzi whispers against Paige’s mouth, cupping the older woman’s face with her hands.

Paige is about to deepen the kiss, her hands beginning to slip lower, when the sound of a doorbell ruins any chances of putting in motion any of the uncordial ideas that had taken birth in her mind. She groans as Azzi immediately pulls away.

“Shit, I didn’t realize they’d be here so early.” the younger woman curses, hurriedly tossing Paige’s discarded clothes at her, “here, put your clothes on. I’ll go down first while you change.”

“I- I can come down?” Paige asks slowly.

Azzi crinkles her eyes in confusion, “what do you mean? What else would you do?”

“I just. I dunno-” Paige shrugs, “I just assumed you uh- you wouldn’t want Stephie to know I stayed the night. I figured I’d sneak out of the window or something.”

“Paige,” Azzi whispers, walking over to grip the older girl’s hands, “you’re not- you’re not my dirty little secret or anything. I’m not- I’m not quite ready to tell Stephie about us- hell I’m not even really sure what we are yet but I know- I know that I don’t want to hide you from her. Besides,” she nudges Paige humorously, “we’re on the 2nd floor babe. I don’t need you trying to climb out the window and breaking your knee before the season even starts.”

Paige watches quietly as Azzi walks out the door. She doesn’t think the younger woman quite understands how much she had needed to hear those words, how much she had needed to not feel like a secret again. It fills Paige with a sense of hope, hope that maybe things would be different this time. Maybe things would be better this time.

***

“Miss Buecks,” Stephie squeals from Azzi’s arms as she spots Paige descending down the stairs, “you’re already here!”

Paige smiles at the little girl, tapping her nose over Azzi’s shoulder, “I promised you I’d be here bright and early didn’t I?”

“Very bright and early,” Katie cocks an eyebrow as she smirks at Paige and Azzi, “how did you get here so early Paige?”

“Don’t be silly Nanna. She drove of course,” Stephie says matter-of-factly before scrunching up her nose, “but Miss Buecks. How come your car isn’t outside then?”

“That’s a great question Stephie,” Katie says and Paige thinks the woman’s a little bit too peppy for a grandmother, “why isn’t your car outside Paige?”

“Because-” Azzi gives her mother an exasperated look before fixing her eyes on her daughter, “because Paige slept over last night.”

“Miss Buecks slept over last night?” Stephie repeats.

“I did,” Paige confirms, glaring at Katie as she snickers in the corner.

“Mama can you please put me down,” Stephie says finally.

The little girl looks upset and Paige feels her heart constrict with fear. In general, she doesn’t really do well with people being mad at her. But she definitely doesn't think she can take Stephie of all people being mad at her. The little girl has chiseled herself into Paige’s heart and if she ever left, Paige thinks she’d leave a hole so big, her entire heart would cease working.

Azzi shares a nervous look with Paige as she sets her daughter down before crouching down to Stephie’s level, “what’s wrong Stephie-bean?”

Stephie’s bottom lip trembles as she looks between her mother and Paige, “you let Miss Buecks sleepover.”

“I-” Azzi looks helplessly between her own mother and Paige, both of whom look just as tense, “I did but sweetheart why is that upsetting you? You like Miss Buecks.”

“I love Miss Buecks,” Stephie wails and Paige lets out a sigh of relief, the little girl's words wrapping themselves around her like a warm blanket.

Azzi blanches for a second, “I don’t understand then what’s the problem-”

“YOU GUYS HAD A SLEEPOVER WITHOUT ME,” Stephie yells, stomping her tiny feet.

Oh.

“Stephie-” Azzi says softly, unable to keep the smile off of her face.

“I can’t believe you’d do this to me Mama,” Stephie sniffs as she turns to Paige with a betrayed expression, “and you Miss Buecks. How could you guys have a sleepover without me?”

“Oh sweetheart,” Paige falls to her knees beside Azzi, trying not to smile when Stephie dramatically turns her face away from them, “we didn’t mean to. It was just really late when we got back from the party-”

“The party,” Stephie cries out, “first you went to a party without me and then you had a sleepover without me. I can’t bel-ieve you guys would do that to me. Don’t you guys love me at all?”

“We’re really sorry Stephie,” Paige says as seriously as she can, reaching out to fold Stephie’s tiny hands into her much larger one.

“Very, very, sorry,” Azzi echoes.

“I don’t know,” Katie supplies unhelpfully from where she’s watching the whole situation with pure amusement, “they don’t seem that sorry Stephie.”

“Mom!” “Katie!”

Katie raises her hands in mock surrender as both Paige and Azzi glare at her, “just looking out for my granddaughter’s best interest.”

“Stephie-bean,” Paige says again, maneuvering the little girl’s body to face her, “your Mama and I are very, very, sorry for having a sleepover without you. Please forgive us.”

Stephie looks at the adults kneeling in front of her with a contemplative expression, “you promise you’ll never do it again?”

“Never,” Azzi promises as Paige nods along.

“And when we go to the park today I can get three scoops of ice cream?” the little girl asks, the hint of a smile starting to breakthrough her lips.

“I don’t know about that one sweetheart. That’s a lot of ice-”

“Of course you can!”

“Paige!” Azzi hisses.

“And you’ll push me on the swing at the park for twenty minutes?”

“I’ll even push you for thirty minutes if you want,” Paige says and Azzi rolls her eyes.

“Just had to one-up it didn’t you Bueckers,” she mutters under her breath.

“And even though Miss Buecks said she’d get me fries at the park, I can get In-N-Out for dinner too?”

“You’re pushing it Stephie-bean-”

“In-N-Out for dinner sounds perfect,” Paige winks at Stephie as a full smile finally overtakes the little girl’s face.

“You’re hopeless,” Azzi chides the blonde, throwing her hands up exasperatedly but there’s no denying the grin on her face as she looks back at Stephie, “is that all your highness? Are we finally forgiven or did you want to ask us for more unhealthy things?”

“Just one more thing,” Stephie’s eyes twinkle with mischief, “Miss Buecks has to sleepover tonight too.”

Paige and Azzi share a toothy smile with each other before turning to the little girl.

“I think that could be arranged.”

The words are barely out of Paige’s mouth before Stephie goes tumbling into her and Azzi, tiny arms somehow wrapping around both of their necks as she pulls them into a group hug. The two adults laugh, cocooning the little girl in between them as she rambles on about how excited she is. And Paige thinks that when all is said and done, when she looks back on her life, she’ll remember this moment as the one where everything started to finally come together. Right now, with Stephie's arms wrapped around her neck and Azzi’s hands curling around the little girl’s back to intertwine their fingers together, this moment here feels perfect. This moment feels like it belongs to Paige.

#pazzi #paige bueckers #azzi fudd #wcbb

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