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OF COURSE I HAVE I'M OBSESSED WITH THEM 😭💚
time after time - masterlist
summary: After what starts out as a fairly normal mission, you find yourself stuck in a time loop. Which would already be bad enough in itself if it didn’t also mean having to watch Bucky die over and over again.
pairing: bucky barnes x time witch!reader
series word count: 86.6k+
warnings: f!reader; more or less canon compliant; time loops, canon typical violence, repeated major character death (in a russian doll/supernatural's mystery spot sort of way); slow burn, mutual annoyance to reluctant friends to lovers; negative self-talk; just a lot of angst (but with an eventual happy ending i promise!!); lots of banter; hella self-indulgent 💚
this series is set after the events of the falcon and the winter soldier and will include spoilers for marvel projects up to and including multiverse of madness
a/n: welcome to the fic i've been thinking about for almost a year!! i am beyond excited and terrified to finally start sharing this. if you want to get notified whenever i post a new chapter, you can follow @intrepidacious-fics and turn on notifications or follow along on my ao3 💚
please mind that my blog is 18+ only, minors and ageless accounts will be blocked
✨ this series is ongoing; last update 16/05/25
my chapters are on the long side so they will also be posted in parts for easier reading in the app; the parts and the full chapters are identical contentwise
one: turn back the clock ↳ Bucky gets killed during a mission and you accidentally start a time loop | 6.0k
part one
part two
two: twice upon a time ↳ You struggle to cope with your new situation and meet a sorcerer | 8.2k
part one
part two
three: every day’s a holiday ↳ Ten days into the loop, you finally decide to ask for help | 10.1k
part one
part two
part three
four: groundhog day ↳ Library heists, bad ideas, and a decision | 9.2k
part one
part two
part three
five: carousel ↳ Bucky has a secret and you have a revelation | 10.9k
part one
part two
part three
six: butterfly effect ↳ You go back to the start, and something changes | 12.8k
part one
part two
part three
part four
seven: spellbound ↳ There's a problem with this day | 11.1k
part one
part two
part three
eight: edge of tomorrow ↳ The truth comes out, and you scramble to fix things | 12.3k
part one
part two
part three
nine (30/05/25)
ten
eleven
twelve
epilogue
bonus chapters
these are mostly set outside of the time loop; not required reading, but there will be some nods to these in the main story. bonus chapters can be read in any order and without knowing the main story
frequently asked questions about time travel �� Five times people asked you something about time travel, and one time you’re desperate for an answer yourself
eternal sunshine of the spotless mind ↳ One day in Bucky's time loop
57 seconds ↳ How Bucky met Twelve
somewhere in time ↳ a bantery little snippet that was cut for time from the main story
cause and effect ↳ How Bucky fell in love with Twelve: Slowly, and then all at once.
alpine's pov ↳ set during chapter 8
fun stuff
🎵 series playlist
#️⃣ browse the series tag
moodboards by @barnesafterglow 💚
moodboard by @sweetascanbee 💚
moodboards by @idkitsem 💚
moodboards by @treatbuckywkisses 💚
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Elbaf won’t be Usopp’s arc because look at the track record with Wano.
All I’m saying is keep your expectations very low because if you shoot for the stars you will get disappointed
I wanna hold out hope!
But I'll have medium expectations.....
ELBAF SHOULD BE TO USOPP WHAT WCI WAS TO SANJI!!
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can i just say your layout is so ethereal and calm. makes me think of heaven idk
AHHHH TYSMM
i based it off of angelcore + cybercore and some influences from 2014 tumblr (which im currently going nuts over)
im so happy you love it! 🤍
#🦷— toni replies !#🩰— toni’s moots!#nika <3#this is the best compliment regarding my blog#like#🥰#ILYSM NIKA
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thank you for including me!! 💛
I hope you all had a wonderful April and the Easter bunny brought you plenty of treats!
As always, please make sure you check warnings before reading. Spicy stories have a flame emoji and we have 🐇 for Easter Fics.
Please make sure you feed your authors with comments and reblogs so they know you enjoyed it!
Bucky Barnes
a sweet gesture leads to a moment of embarrassment for your husband by @helaintoloki
Bucky Barnes : Domestic Menace by @sebstanaddict
Bucky makes for a great teacher. By @crowsofdarkness 🔥
Closed Door Meetings by @societyfolklore 🔥
Crème de la Crème by @bucky-barnes-diaries 🔥
Easter Basket Ask by @sunday-bug 🐇
Margin of Error by @cheekybarnes
Fake Out by @thatsmzbitchtoyou 🔥
Jackass by @aquaticmercy
Jealous Bucky by @sunday-bug
Like a Phoenix by @marvelstoriesepic
like no other man by @witchywithwhiskey 🔥
punishments with bucky by @magicaloneandmystery 🔥
Unsolved by @shurisneakers
Count Alexei Vronsky
Nothing If Not Needy by @marchsfreakshow 🔥
Garrick Tavis
marathon session by @graysonfics 🔥
Joaquín Torres
15 MINUTES by @petertingle-yipyip
A Breach in Reality by @nathanbatemanfucker
Bad Day by @lives-in-midgard
Birds of a Feather by @intrepidacious
Bring back dry humping! By @sunsburns 🔥
“Can I kiss you?” by @everydaydreamer
Charge My Card by @ofstarsandvibranium
Help his waist seems so grabbable by @lisbvn
He's a Hot One by @multiversefanfics
“H-How long have you been standing there?” by @everydaydreamer
“Is that what you call an apology?” by @everydaydreamer
Rough Day by @/everydaydreamer 🔥
The Game by @emeraldserenade 🔥
Lemonade by @everydaydreamer
Loopy And Lovely by @usoppshoneydew
Meet Cute by @emeraldserenade
My Pretty Girl by @everydaydreamer
Naughty Girl by @multiversefanfics 🔥
Not an Invite by @\everydaydreamer
Sleep Talking by @backtothefanfiction
Touchy Feely by @multiversefanfics
Vanilla Tobacco by @nathanbatemanfucker
“YOU SENT ME PICTURES OF YOU NAKED WHILE I WAS IN A WORK MEETING!” by @everydaydreamer 🔥
Liam Mairi
I Bet We'd Have Really Good... By @scorpioriesling
Loki
Two Gods, One Heart by @lokisgoodgirl 🔥
Pietro Maximoff
Riding Pietro's Abs by @pretty-little-mind33 🔥
Poly/Multi Ship
Gold & Vibranium by @ijuststareatstuffhereok89 🔥(Loki x Reader x Bucky)
Good Girl by @fanfictiongirlie 🔥(Stucky x Reader)
Lucky Charms AU by @yenzys-lucky-charm (Multiple Chris & Seb characters x Readers)
New Beginnings by @readychilledwine (Azriel x Reader x Eris)
No Time For Games by @/scorpioriesling (Xaden/Violet/Reader)
Tangerine
What you do to me by @spidermiguell
Xaden Riorson
HEADCANONS FOR XADEN RIORSON X SUNSHINE!FEM!READER by @leviackermanstoes
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today i got a very nice and extensive comment on a fic that's more than ten years old 🥺
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𝚘𝚗𝚎 𝚖𝚘𝚛𝚎 𝚕𝚒𝚏𝚎𝚝𝚒𝚖𝚎, 𝚙𝚕𝚎𝚊𝚜𝚎 || 𝚙𝚊𝚒𝚐𝚎 𝚋𝚞𝚎𝚌𝚔𝚎𝚛𝚜 𝚡 𝚛𝚎𝚊𝚍𝚎𝚛
in which this is the end
She drives you home with one hand on the wheel and the other never letting go of yours.
You’re quiet in the car—not because there’s nothing to say, but because everything has already been said.
You’re engaged.
And somehow the world hasn’t stopped turning.
The first call is to your closest friend.
You barely say hello before you hear, “Did she do it?!”
You laugh through tears. “She did.”
Screams. Actual screams. You hold the phone away from your ear as Paige grins behind the wheel.
The second call is Paige’s.
She FaceTimes Nika, KK and Azzi from the couch while you’re curled into her side, your head on her shoulder, ring catching the afternoon light.
Azzi starts sobbing immediately.
Nika just nods like she knew.
“You guys are gross,” she says.
But her smile doesn’t fade for hours.
The texts come in waves.
Your people.
Her teammates.
The group chat explodes.
KK sends confetti emojis. Geno sends a picture of a bottle of wine with the caption finally. Your aunt texts, I’m crying at work. Your old chef mentor just replies, She better deserve you.
She does.
God, she does.
You keep the engagement offline.
Not because it’s a secret.
Because it’s sacred.
It’s just for now.
Just for you.
The world can wait.
You start planning that same night.
Not for a big ceremony.
Not for a hundred guests or a designer gown.
You want intimacy.
You want to hear her vows without a microphone.
You want to feel her hand in yours without a spotlight.
You want a wedding that feels like an exhale.
Paige offers to plan the whole thing.
You say no.
“I want to plan it with you,” you tell her. “Because I want us to build it together. Even this.”
She nods.
And from then on, every spare moment is yours.
You tour a small vineyard just outside the city.
Paige squeezes your hand as you walk the rows of vines, golden light falling over everything.
“This,” you say.
She doesn’t even ask why.
Because she feels it too.
She picks a suit.
Cream-colored. Soft lapels. No tie.
You run your hands along her collar the moment she tries it on.
“Damn,” you whisper. “I’m in trouble.”
She smirks. “You’re the one marrying me.”
You grin. “That’s exactly why I’m in trouble.”
Your dress is simple.
Light fabric. No corset. No lace.
Just something that breathes with you.
That lets you dance.
That lets you feel like yourself.
You cry when you put it on.
Not because it’s perfect.
But because it’s right.
One night, two weeks before the wedding, you sit on the floor together writing your vows.
You don't share them.
But she looks at you, pen in hand, and says, “You know... every time I think I couldn’t love you more, you prove me wrong.”
You reach over, brush your fingers through her hair.
“Then I’m going to keep trying. Every day we get.”
She kisses your wrist, right where the pulse beats strong.
And you both write the rest of your hearts onto paper.
Together.
The vineyard sleeps under a silver sky.
You’re staying in a tiny guesthouse tucked between the vines. The walls smell like lavender and old books. The windows creak softly in the wind.
The wedding is tomorrow.
And Paige is sitting cross-legged on the bed, wearing one of your hoodies and a look you’ve never seen before.
A mix of nerves and awe.
“You okay?” you ask, brushing a hand down her leg as you pass by.
She doesn’t answer immediately.
Just watches you set down two mugs of tea on the nightstand. Honey chamomile. The same kind you made her the first time she stayed the night, long before either of you called this love.
You sit beside her.
She leans in.
“I keep thinking,” she says softly, “what if I forget to say the right thing?”
You smile. “You won’t.”
“But what if I cry in the middle? Or trip? Or say your middle name wrong?”
“You definitely will.”
She laughs. “You're not helping.”
You take her hand.
“Hey.”
She looks at you.
“You could stand there and read me the ingredients on a cereal box and I’d still marry you.”
She exhales. Shaky. Grateful.
You lean in, rest your forehead against hers.
“Tomorrow isn’t about being perfect,” you whisper. “It’s about being real. And I’ve never been more sure of anything than I am about you.”
She wraps her arms around you then.
And holds you like she’s saying thank you without words.
Later, you both lie on the floor.
Backs pressed against the rug. Lights off. Only the glow of the moon washing through the windows.
“Do you remember the night I asked you if you wanted company?” she asks.
You smile in the dark. “Your famous Thai food and chaos text.”
“I was scared,” she says. “You didn’t know that. But I was terrified I was too late. That someone else had already seen you the way I had.”
You turn your head toward her. “You weren’t late.”
“I was just in time.”
You nod. “You were exactly in time.”
Silence again.
But full.
Brimming.
You reach for her hand.
She laces your fingers together without a word.
At some point, she whispers, “Can I tell you something I’ve never said out loud?”
You nod, even though she can’t see you.
“Sometimes I still wake up thinking this is temporary. That you’ll be gone. That I imagined you.”
Your chest tightens.
“Then I reach out,” she continues, “and there you are. Real. Warm. Breathing. And every time, I promise myself I won’t take another second for granted.”
You squeeze her hand.
“You don’t,” you whisper.
“I try not to.”
“You don’t have to try,” you say. “You already love me like time is made of glass.”
You feel her breath catch.
And then she turns toward you.
Pulls you into her chest.
And for a long time, neither of you speak.
You just hold each other.
Letting the night be quiet.
Letting it hold you both before the morning opens everything.
You wake before the sun.
The light hasn’t touched the sky yet, but you’re wide awake, heart pounding like it’s running toward something. Your room is quiet. Paige isn’t here—by choice. You decided the night before to sleep separately, not out of superstition but to feel the moment when you see her again. Fresh. New. Yours.
You roll over and stare at the ceiling.
Today, you marry her.
Today, you promise everything—with no timeline, no guarantees, just love.
You exhale slowly.
And begin.
By 8:00 a.m., your people arrive.
Your best friend brings coffee. Another friend brings a small speaker and plays your “soft mornings” playlist while doing your hair. Your cousin quietly unpacks your dress and steams it, hands trembling just a little because she can’t stop crying every time she looks at you.
You sit by the window while someone curls strands of your hair around their fingers.
No one talks about the illness today.
No one talks about time.
They just talk about love.
About how they knew it would be her.
About how you started glowing the moment she walked into your life.
You laugh.
You cry.
You sip too-hot coffee from a chipped mug and say, “I feel like I’m floating.”
Your best friend smiles. “Then we’ll hold you down until she lifts you higher.”
Across the vineyard, Paige is getting ready too.
Azzi is tying her tie—yes, she changed her mind and went with a soft beige tie after all.
Nika is ironing the hem of her suit jacket.
KK keeps pacing.
“She’s going to pass out,” she mumbles.
“She’s going to cry,” Azzi mutters back.
“I’m already crying,” Paige says, holding her phone in one hand, reading a note she saved weeks ago.
Things I’ll say if I can’t get through my vows without sobbing.
1. I love you more than your banana bread. 2. You are the only one who makes me want forever—even if forever is shorter than it should be. 3. You are the bravest thing that ever happened to me. 4. Yes. Always, yes.
She snaps it shut and stands.
Hands shaking.
Voice steady.
“Let’s do this,” she whispers.
Back in your room, you stand in front of the mirror.
Your dress hangs soft and light around your body.
Your heart feels like it’s beating against your ribs, like it’s trying to get to her before your feet do.
Your friend steps forward and gently clips your necklace.
The same one Paige gave you the night she said “I love you” for the first time.
You look at yourself.
Eyes wide. Lips trembling. Chest full of everything.
“I’m scared,” you whisper.
Your friend smiles through her tears.
“That’s how you know it’s real.”
You nod.
And then the knock comes.
Soft. Intentional.
The coordinator opens the door.
“They’re ready for you.”
You step outside.
The wind is gentle.
The light is gold.
Your hands are cold, but your heart is burning.
And somewhere, just beyond the vineyard rows—
She’s waiting.
You step out from behind the vineyard trellis, and for a second—just a second—everything stops.
The sky has turned that exact shade of honey it only holds right before sunset. The rows of grapevines stretch out like open arms, and the soft hum of strings plays from somewhere hidden behind the altar.
But none of that matters.
Because you see her.
And she sees you.
Paige stands at the end of the aisle, under the arch you both chose, her suit kissed by golden light, hands clasped tight in front of her, like she’s praying and shaking and flying all at once.
When her eyes land on you, they don’t blink.
Her breath catches.
You see her whisper something to herself.
There she is.
You take one step forward.
Your knees are trembling.
Your heartbeat is too loud in your ears, and for a terrifying moment, you don’t know if you’ll make it the whole way without falling apart.
But then she smiles.
Soft. Disbelieving. Like she’s never seen anything so holy.
And you forget fear.
You walk.
Not fast. Not slow.
You walk like time has bent itself around this moment.
Like nothing before and nothing after could possibly compare.
The breeze picks up as you pass the first row of chairs—your friends, your people, all of them rising to their feet. Some are already crying. Some are smiling through tears. One of your friends whispers, “Oh my God,” like she’s seeing something divine.
But you don’t look at any of them.
You only look at her.
Paige’s eyes never leave yours.
You see it all in them.
The memory of your first conversation over curry.
The quiet nights.
The broken plate.
The diagnosis.
The fear.
The yes.
The yes.
She swallows hard as you near.
One hand lifts—like she’s reaching without thinking.
You reach back.
The moment your fingers touch, the crowd disappears.
There’s only her.
Only you.
Only this.
“You came,” she whispers.
You laugh through your tears.
“I always was.”
She takes your hand fully now, steps forward, gently presses her forehead to yours.
“Hi,” she murmurs.
“Hi,” you breathe back.
And together, with fingers laced and tears already falling, you turn to face the one person standing at the arch—your officiant, your friend—who says, voice steady, “Are we ready?”
You and Paige look at each other.
Smiling.
Breaking.
Becoming.
And you both say, together,
“We are.”
The wind quiets.
The crowd stills.
Even the sun seems to pause, lingering in the golden sky like it knows this moment matters.
You and Paige stand beneath the arch—hands still joined, eyes full of what words could never contain.
The officiant speaks softly.
“We are gathered here not just to witness a marriage, but to honor a choice. A choice to love boldly, presently, completely—regardless of how many days are ahead. This is not about forever in time, but forever in devotion. In choosing. In staying.”
You squeeze Paige’s hand.
She squeezes back.
Then the officiant nods toward her.
“Paige,” they say. “Your vows.”
She turns to you.
And for a second, she doesn’t speak.
She just stares—eyes glistening, jaw trembling.
And then, in a voice that breaks halfway through the first word.
“I never expected it to be you.”
She smiles through the tears.
“Not because I didn’t believe in love. But because I didn’t believe love could look like this. So quiet. So steady. So brave.”
You bite your lip.
“I thought I knew what strength was,” she continues. “I thought it was scoring in the fourth quarter, pushing through pain, carrying the weight of pressure. But then I met you.”
She steps a little closer.
“And strength became something else entirely. It became waking up with a diagnosis and still smiling at me. It became letting me see you on the hard days. It became writing letters you thought I’d never read. Loving me even when you were scared. Letting me love you even when I was.”
Her voice cracks.
She breathes.
And keeps going.
“I don’t know how much time we have. But I do know this—every second with you has already been a lifetime I wouldn’t trade for anything.”
She reaches for your cheek, brushes away a tear.
“I vow to make joy louder than fear. I vow to make coffee, even if I burn it. I vow to remind you every day that you are not your illness, and you never will be.”
You’re sobbing now.
So is she.
“I vow to stay. As long as I’m allowed. And then longer still—in photos, in stories, in every recipe you taught me, and every breath that carries your name.”
She lets out a shaking breath.
“I love you. And I always will. Still.”
There is no applause.
Just silence.
And then the officiant turns to you.
You nod.
And begin.
“You were supposed to be a customer.”
The crowd chuckles softly.
Paige smiles, crying.
“You sat at my counter and asked for comfort food. I didn’t know then that you’d become it. That you’d sit across from me for so many days that you’d start to feel like home.”
You pause. Blink away the tears.
“I never thought I’d fall in love with someone like you—so focused, so public, so big. But then you laughed at my burnt cookies, cried when you read poetry badly, and showed up with Thai food and hope on the night I couldn’t move.”
Your voice shakes.
“I didn’t know how to let someone stay. But you made it feel safe.”
She’s sobbing.
You step closer, hands shaking in hers.
“I don’t have forever to give you. I wish I did. But what I do have is this. I vow to live every moment with you like it’s the only one that matters. I vow to kiss you like time is folding around us. I vow to let you carry the weight with me—even when I pretend I’m fine. I vow to say ‘I love you’ every morning, even if one day I can’t say much else. And when I can’t say anything anymore…”
You take a trembling breath.
“…I vow that my love will still be here. In the songs you hum. In the recipes we wrote. In the way you breathe in the sunlight and remember that we chose each other.”
A pause.
“I choose you. Still. Always. Yes.”
The officiant steps back, eyes full.
And simply says…
“With these vows, you are already bound. But if your hearts are ready—go ahead and seal it with a kiss.”
You don’t wait.
Neither does she.
You crash into each other with the softest, fiercest kiss—tears on your cheeks, laughter in your mouths, promises on your lips.
Your people cheer.
The sun sinks behind you.
And just like that—
You are wives.
The crowd fades.
The music swells.
But all you feel is her hand in yours.
You and Paige walk back up the aisle to cheers and flower petals and laughter—but it all blurs. She squeezes your hand so tightly, you think maybe it’s the only thing anchoring her to the earth.
When you reach the edge of the vineyard, just past the last row of chairs, she tugs you aside.
Around the corner.
Away from everyone.
Just for a minute.
And then she wraps her arms around your waist, lifts you off the ground, and spins.
You laugh into her neck, still crying, still stunned.
“We did it,” you whisper.
“We did,” she murmurs back. “And you—you were…”
You pull back slightly.
“What?” you ask, smiling.
She cups your face.
“You were the most beautiful thing this world has ever seen.”
You laugh, lips trembling.
“So were you.”
The sun sinks low.
Dinner is soft and loud all at once—clinking glasses, candlelight, warm food, warm eyes.
Toasts are made.
Nika starts hers by saying, “You both are a disaster. But you’re our disaster.”
Your friend reads a line from your favorite poem.
Azzi just raises her glass and says, “To the both of you.”
You look at Paige.
She’s already looking at you.
You reach for her hand under the table.
Later, long after the cake is cut, someone plays your song—the one she danced to in your kitchen the first time she tried to cook for you. The one that makes you cry in the car when it rains.
She stands, holds out her hand.
“May I?”
You nod.
She leads you into the grass, just past the lights, where the shadows are soft and the stars are just beginning to breathe.
You dance barefoot.
Slowly.
No one else joins.
It’s yours.
Only yours.
She rests her forehead to yours.
“I think the universe made you out of everything I needed,” she whispers.
You close your eyes.
“I think the universe gave me you right on time.”
You both cry, swaying under the sky.
Not from sadness.
From fullness.
From wonder.
That night, she carries you over the threshold of the guesthouse, even though you laugh and say she’ll hurt her back.
She says, “I’ll carry you forever if I have to.”
You believe her.
You change into soft clothes—nothing fancy, just you and her, bare feet and quiet sighs.
You brush your teeth beside her and keep catching her looking at you in the mirror like she still can’t believe you said yes.
She wraps her arms around you from behind and whispers, “I love my wife.”
You breathe out a laugh.
You whisper it back.
And when you lie down beside her, pressed together beneath the sheets, legs tangled and fingers tracing rings you haven’t taken off since the ceremony—
You whisper one more thing into the stillness.
“Thank you.”
She pulls you closer.
“For what?” she asks.
“For choosing me,” you whisper. “Even when time doesn’t.”
She kisses your knuckles.
“No matter how much time we get,” she says, “this night will live forever in me.”
And then she kisses you like the vow still lives on her tongue.
And you fall asleep in her arms.
Married.
Still.
It’s been months.
The world hasn’t stopped.
It’s just… slower now.
You and Paige live in rhythms now. Not plans.
You take mornings as they come—some with sunshine, some with numb hands and aching joints, some with tears before coffee.
She never flinches.
She just holds you like the world is still good.
Because with her—it is.
Your body betrays you more often now.
Some days you can’t button your own shirt.
Some days your legs tremble too long after standing.
But Paige learns with you.
She learns how to tie your laces.
She learns how to hold your arm without making it feel like pity.
She learns how to look at you like you’re still you.
And she says, almost daily, “You’re more you now than ever.”
You cook less now.
She tries more.
Sometimes it’s beautiful. Sometimes it’s chaos.
Once, she confused salt and sugar and served you the saltiest pancakes known to mankind.
You ate every bite.
She cried when you told her they were “aggressively unique.”
Then you both laughed until you forgot what pain even felt like.
You still take pictures.
Every morning, just like she asked.
Hair a mess, eyes tired, sun sometimes not even up yet.
She says every photo looks like a love letter.
You say she’s biased.
But maybe she’s right.
Some days, you write.
When your fingers let you.
You keep a journal on the windowsill.
One line a day. No pressure.
She danced with me in the kitchen again.
Today the pain wasn’t louder than her laugh.
She still looks at me like I hung the stars.
You never talked about the countdown again.
Not in numbers.
You just talk about today.
And sometimes tomorrow.
But mostly just now.
It’s been a year.
The doctor calls it progression.
You call it redefining.
You walk slower. Rest more. Your speech has softened, slurred on long days.
But you’re still here.
You’re still.
Paige learns new ways to care for you without making it feel like sacrifice.
She reads to you when your voice gives out.
She paints your nails on days when your hands ache.
She kisses your scars like they’re sacred.
Like they’re proof you’re still fighting.
You don’t go out as much.
But friends come over.
They bring food and flowers and sit on the floor like they always have.
They cry less now.
You all laugh more.
Once, someone said, “You’re teaching us how to live.”
You said, “I’m just learning how to stay.”
And every night, before bed, Paige tucks you in.
Sometimes with a kiss.
Sometimes with silence.
Sometimes with tears.
But always with love.
You rest your head on her chest and whisper, “Another day.”
She holds you tighter.
“Another day,” she repeats. “Still.”
You haven’t been to a game in months.
Not since the symptoms worsened.
Not since travel started taking more from you than it gave.
But when Paige comes home with that look in her eyes—wide, teary, stubborn—you know she’s already decided.
“We’re going to the arena,” she says softly, kneeling beside your chair. “Just one more time.”
You open your mouth to argue, but she shakes her head.
“I want to give you this.”
You press your forehead to hers.
She’s trembling.
So are you.
But you nod.
Because this love has always been about the one more.
The team pulls every string.
The Wings staff reserves a private suite just for you. No cameras. No crowd. Just glass windows and soft lighting and space for Paige to come to you when it’s over.
Your friends help you dress.
A soft jersey over your shoulders. The one with her number on it. The one she signed months ago, when neither of you could say why.
You hold it together until the drive to the arena.
Then Paige reaches across the console, threads your fingers together, and says,
“This one’s for you.”
The crowd is loud.
The lights are bright.
But none of it touches you.
All you see is her.
Number 5. Your wife. Your heart.
She walks out for warmups and glances up at the suite. You’re already there, hands curled in your lap, eyes on her.
When she sees you, she smiles.
Big. Unapologetic. Like you are the sun breaking through the roof.
She taps her chest.
Then points at you.
You mouth, I love you.
She mouths, Forever.
The game starts.
And Paige plays like the clock doesn’t matter.
She weaves through defenders like they’re mist.
She shoots like the basket owes her something.
She flies.
The arena chants her name.
But every time she scores, she looks up.
Not at the scoreboard.
At you.
Fourth quarter. Tie game. Final seconds.
Ball in her hands.
She could pass.
She doesn’t.
She takes the shot.
Swish.
Buzzer.
The crowd erupts.
You don’t hear it.
Because your ears are full of your heartbeat.
Of her name.
Of the weight of this moment.
She did it.
For you.
After the court clears, she sprints up the tunnel.
Still in her jersey.
Still catching her breath.
Your door opens.
She falls to her knees beside your chair.
And you see it—right there in her eyes.
She knows.
So do you.
This was your last game.
Your last adventure.
You smile anyway.
Because what a damn goodbye.
She buries her face in your lap, crying hard now, breath hitching.
You run your hand through her hair, slow, unsteady.
“You were amazing,” you whisper.
She lifts her head.
“You were here,” she says. “That’s what made it everything.”
You pull her close.
“You gave me a life inside a year.”
She nods, broken and shining.
“You gave me every lifetime,” she whispers.
And in that moment, the ending feels less like a goodbye.
And more like a thank you.
—
The house is warm.
Afternoon sun spills across the living room floor in long golden lines. Somewhere outside, wind chimes tinkle softly in the breeze. Inside, crayons are scattered across the kitchen table, a pink plastic tiara lies abandoned on the floor, and a little girl—six years old, with tangled curls and wide eyes—climbs into her mother’s lap, thoughtful.
“Mama,” she says. “Can I ask something?”
Paige Bueckers looks down at her daughter, smiles. “Always.”
“Why is my name Y/N?”
Paige stills.
Just for a second.
A blink. A breath. A flicker of time folding in.
But it’s enough.
Emily—her wife—watches from the hallway, her smile softening, her heart already bracing.
Paige swallows.
Her hands, rough from coaching and gardening and life, wrap gently around their daughter’s smaller ones.
She could lie.
She could say the name just sounded beautiful.
She could say it came to her in a dream.
But instead, she says the truth.
“There was a girl I loved,” Paige begins, her voice steady. “Before you were born. Before even Mommy.”
Little Y/N tilts her head. “Like a girlfriend?”
Paige smiles. “Yes. A long time ago. She was my first great love.”
“What was she like?”
Paige’s eyes glaze, just slightly—like she’s not looking at the room anymore.
“She was... brave. The kind of brave that doesn’t need to shout about it. She made people feel safe just by being near. She cooked like it was magic. She laughed with her whole body. And she had this way of looking at you like you were the only thing in the world that made sense.”
Y/N blinks, leaning in. “What happened?”
Paige hesitates. Then continues, voice gentler now.
“She got sick. Really sick. And we didn’t have much time.”
Y/N frowns. “Did she die?”
“Yes, baby,” Paige says, brushing hair back from her daughter’s forehead. “She did. But before she did, she gave me everything. A year that felt like a lifetime. A love that I still feel, even now.”
“Was she sad?”
“Sometimes. But mostly she was kind. And funny. And so, so full of love. She made every day count.”
Y/N stares at her hands for a moment.
“So... I’m named after her?”
Paige nods.
“Because I wanted to remember. Because she deserved to be remembered. And because when you were born, I looked at you and thought—of course. There you are.”
Y/N’s lip wobbles. “I wish I could meet her.”
Paige swallows a lump in her throat.
“I think... in a way, you already have.”
Y/N wraps her arms around Paige’s waist and holds her tight.
Then, a moment later—because she’s six, and that’s what six-year-olds do—she wriggles out of the hug and runs off to play with a cape around her shoulders and mismatched socks on her feet.
Paige watches her go.
And lets the silence return.
Emily steps into the room.
She doesn’t speak.
She just walks up behind Paige and places her hands gently on her shoulders.
Paige leans back into her without looking.
“I didn’t think it would hit me like that,” she murmurs. “It’s been so long.”
Emily presses a kiss into her hair.
“It’s okay. You don’t have to explain.”
Paige finally turns her head.
Her eyes are glassy. Distant. But not broken.
“She was everything,” she says.
“I know.”
“She’s still in here,” Paige says, pressing a palm to her heart. “Even now.”
Emily nods, kneeling beside her.
“I don’t want to forget her,” Paige whispers.
Emily cups her cheek.
“You never could.”
They stay like that for a while—quiet, held.
And outside, their daughter runs in circles, laughing loud enough to echo.
A name carried forward.
A love still breathing in the spaces between.
Still.
Always.
It had been years.
Paige had stopped counting a long time ago—not because she forgot, but because time began to feel less like something that passed, and more like something she carried.
She kept your memory in quiet places. In the music she played while cooking Sunday breakfast. In the old Polaroid stuck to the back of her journal. In the small ceramic spoon rest you made that still sat by the stove. She didn’t bring you up every day, not out of denial, but reverence.
She had a family now. A beautiful one. Emily was sunlight—kind in the mornings, steady at night. And their daughter, Y/N, was this wide-eyed, wild thing who asked hard questions and loved the moon.
They had a good life.
But grief doesn’t disappear.
It settles.
It takes up residence in the softest corners of joy.
And that’s where it lived now, years later, when Paige opened a box labeled “Kitchen (Keep)” and found the old recipe binder.
She hadn’t touched it in years. Not because she forgot it existed, but because she always knew exactly where it was. She just wasn’t ready. Until now.
It still smelled faintly like rosemary and something sweeter.
She opened it slowly, running her fingers over the familiar cover, smudged with butter, penciled-in substitutions, faded ink.
And then, tucked between the page for your lemon ginger soup and the notes for your banana bread, she saw the envelope.
Her name.
In your handwriting.
And underneath it, smaller, almost as if you’d written it at the last second…
If it’s been a while—read this.
She sat down on the floor, legs folding under her like she was twenty again. Her fingers trembled, but not from fear.
She opened it.
And you began.
Hi, my love.
If you’re reading this, it means I’m not beside you anymore.
And God, I wish I was.
I wish I could reach over and squeeze your hand the way I always did when I couldn’t find the words. I wish I could make you coffee with way too much cinnamon like I did that one time you teased me about seasonal flavors. I wish I could look you in the eyes and tell you, again and again, how proud I am of you. How grateful. How lucky.
But I can’t.
So I’m writing it down, hoping these words hold weight long after I’m gone.
I never imagined a love like the one we built. Not because I didn’t believe in love—but because I didn’t think it could live this quietly. This fiercely. This gently.
You taught me how to be held without shame. How to laugh even when my body hurt. How to sit in silence without needing to fill it. You showed me what it meant to live—not just exist, but live with both hands open.
You were my favorite place to land.
I know the days after me were hard.
I know the air must have felt heavier without my laugh in the kitchen or my voice beside yours in the early morning light. I know that for a while, everything probably tasted a little like salt—grief in the back of your throat, even when you tried to swallow joy.
But I also know you.
And I know you stayed soft. Stayed bright. Stayed Paige. Even when it hurt.
Thank you for that.
If you ever doubted whether you could love again—know this…
I want you to.
I want you to find warmth again. A lap to rest your head. A person to carry your tired. A laugh that stitched your heart back together.
I wanted you to have someone who loved you the way I did—openly, endlessly, and without apology.
To the one who gets to love you, if you’re reading over her shoulder—I hope you know how grateful I am.
Thank you for holding her through the storms I didn’t live to see.
Thank you for loving my girl.
And to the child you got to have…
I never got to meet you. But you carry a piece of me. And I hope when you run through the house yelling about butterflies or astronauts or peanut butter toast, your mama sees the way your smile curls and knows I’m not gone. Not really.
Paige, my heart, I need you to remember something.
You didn’t fail me.
Not once. Not ever.
You loved me through the hardest year of our lives.
You held me when my hands couldn’t hold you back.
You stayed, even as the days grew shorter.
You gave me a thousand lifetimes in one.
And when I closed my eyes for the last time, it was your voice I carried with me.
You are my safe place.
My home.
Still.
So if you’re crying now, that’s okay.
But after you cry—go make something. Paint. Sing. Cook something ridiculous with too much garlic. Take your kid to the lake and tell them the story about the time you burnt the toast and I pretended it was intentional. Let them laugh. Let them know.
Let them know I loved you with everything I had.
Let them know I left this world full.
And when you whisper into the night, when the stars are quiet and the house is sleeping, and you say my name like a secret—
I’ll be there.
I’ll always be there.
Still.
Always.
Yours,
Y/N.
Paige didn’t move for a long time after finishing.
Her chest ached. Not like it used to. Not hollow. Not breaking.
Just full.
Full of you.
Full of the life you lived together.
Full of the love that never ended—only changed shape.
She looked up.
Outside, Emily was laughing in the garden. Little Y/N danced through the grass, barefoot and fearless.
Paige stood slowly, folded the letter back into its envelope, and held it against her chest.
“I miss you,” she whispered into the quiet room.
Then she walked outside.
To the life she built because you taught her how.
Still.
Always.
#paige bueckers x reader#paige bueckers#paige buckets#paige x reader#uconn women’s basketball#uconn wbb#lesbian#wlw#wuh luh wuh#wnba x reader#dallas wings
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baller || LN4
summary: lando has a massive crush on one of the wnba’s newest stars and he isn’t afraid to show it
pairing: lando norris x wnba!reader
fc & warnings: nika muhl & suggestive, you are responsible for the content you consume
requested: nope! just trying to get myself back into writing and i love the wnba. will continue with requests soon 🫶🏻
゚. ✿ ୨❤︎୧⠀✿ . ゚
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ynuser: time to get to work
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user1: i’m in love
user2: the most gorgeous girl
jackhughes: looking good
user3: good luck tonight!!!
landonorris: work it girl 😍🤤
maxfewtrell: i knew you’d be here
user5: lando norizz has arrived right on time
user4: when will y/n put lando out of his misery
user6: this vroom vroom man won’t quit
sbird10: making seattle proud y/n!
yourbff: very demure, very mindful, very gorgeous
ynuser: very cutesy
user6: major buckets incoming
user7: fashion ICON
landonorris has posted to his story

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carlossainz55: since when do you follow basketball……
landonorris: since i met the most beautiful girl in the world at a party and learned she plays professional basketball
carlossainz55: ay dios mio cabron. what party????
landonorris: a party lewis encouraged me to attend in miami. he knows her through modeling or something
carlossainz55: ahh the one party i did not attend! well best of luck to you lando
maxfewtrell: mate i can’t keep defending you
landonorris: you don’t have to defend me 😭
maxfewtrell: do you even know how basketball works?!
landonorris: YES!!!! need i remind you im friends with jimmy butler?! he gave me a crash course
maxfewtrell: well thank god for that
user8: you’re obsessed
user9: i get it lan!! y/n is hot id be thirsting like a freak over her too if i was you
oscarpiastri: has she noticed you yet?
landonorris: besides following me on instagram she has not engaged
oscarpiastri: have you idk….. messaged her???
landonorris: ummm no that would be too much
oscarpiastri: and you hyping up her team on your story and commenting on all of her posts isn’t too much?
landonorris: nope not too much at all
oscarpiastri: 🫠 ok bud
lewishamilton: you’re really trying here huh?
landonorris: 😔 yes
lewishamilton: well it must be your lucky day because she just asked about you
landonorris: WHAT SHE ASKED YOU ABOIT ME?! OHMOGMGOGM
lewishamilton: yes.. she asked if we were going to be spending any time in the US before austin
landonorris: i wasn’t planning on it but if she wants me to i will hop on the first flight
lewishamilton: i told her that i may be and that if she’s curious about you … that she should text you herself 😉
landonorris: i feel faint
user10: love that you’re supporting women’s sports king
user11: you really said i have a crush and it’s now everyone’s problem and i love you for it
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landonorris: it’s all about the details 🎆
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user11: lando you never fail to make the best helmets
quadrant: quadrant on track 🎆
mclarenf1: an iconic helmet for an iconic driver
user12: oh this helmet is so hot
maxfewtrell: ready to cook
user14: is no one going to mention y/n in the likes
ynuser: nice helmet
landonorris: thanks y/n. i made it myself 😉
user14: OMG AHES INTHE COMMWNTS TOO
user15: someone check on lando stat
user16: best day of lando’s life fr
user17: guys we need to be normal about this and be wingmen for lando
user18: so true user17
user18: ynuser lando saves puppies in his free time and was kind enough to lend me his lambo
user19: ynuser lando helped my grandma cross the street!
user22: ynuser lando bought me a house!!
user33: ynuser lando saved a kitten from a burning building!!
maxfewtrell: these comments are killing me 😂
user13: you’re going to win this weekend i just know it
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seattlestorm: gorgeous as always
user9: ugh i’m so obsessed with you
yourbff: how do you manage to make everything look hot
ynuser: you should know bby
landonorris: todays fit is a good fit
ynuser: why thank you lando
landonorris: omg
landonorris: i mean… anything for you y/n
ynuser: anything you say?
landonorris: just about!
ynuser: when are you coming to a game then?
landonorris: i didn’t know i had an invite
ynuser: of course you do!! seeing as that you’re such a big fan and all 😉
landonorris: consider me there
ynuser: you going to invite me to a race?
landonorris: i have a paddock pass with your name on it 😏
ynuser: consider me there
user11: can’t wait to see you cook in the playoffs!!
patriciooward: you gonna come see me or what 🤔
ynuser: i’ll be in the paddock if you will!
patriciooward: HA yes i’ll be there. looking forward to seeing you
user13: f1 and lando brought me here and i have to say im not mad about it
jackhughes: 😮💨😮💨😮💨😮💨
user10: the wnba is lucky to have you!!
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landonorris: quick pit stop to catch the playoffs. the storm are finals bound lfg p1 here they come!
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seattlestorm: it was great to have you join us lando!!
landonorris: thanks for having me!
user14: oh my god it’s happening
maxfewtrell: mate stand up
landonorris: oh i’m up mate don’t even worry
user17: lando taking shooting his shot to the next level
ynuser: thanks for stopping by lanny
landonorris: of course y/n/n, no place i’d rather be
user7: i’m rooting for you guys
user46: you got this lando let’s goooo
user17: she called him lanny im ???
user22: he’s so pretty, she’s so pretty ,, they’re perfect for each other
mclarenf1: we love women’s sports in this house
ynuser: yes we do!!
user33: LETS GO STORM!!!
maxverstappen1: oh did someone get his chance?
landonorris: perhaps
user45: y/nlando truthers unite
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user18: YESSSSSS
user22: i’ve never been so invested in an american sport before
user76: you posting her as if yall together!! you might just be as delusional as me king
oscarpiastri: how is the winning her over going
landonorris: you’d be surprised but i think it’s working!! we’ve gone on 3 dates and talk every day 😭
oscarpiastri: im so proud of you man
mclarenf1: woohooo let’s goooo!!!
maxfewtrell: i thought we agreed you’d post the team photo and not the one of just her
landonorris: she just looked so cute and happy tho
maxfewtrell: but this makes it look like you’re dating
landonorris: i wish we were 😭😭😭
maxfewtrell: i know i know
patriciooward: i put in a good word for you with y/n
landonorris: you are a real one pato
user87: you are a fan girl just like me
user34: the most supportive boyfriend but not boyfriend i’ve ever seen
user19: you’re nothing if not persistent
user77: you posting more about y/n than you do anyone else
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f1gossip: following her first wnba title, y/n was spotted celebrating with friends at a popular nightclub. we received this anonymous intel: “i was in the bathroom and heard a girl loudly talking on her phone. when i realized it was y/n i tried to be chill and not bother her but couldn’t help but over hear her conversation. she said “i wish you were here lando” and “i can’t just fly to mexico to be with you” and “no no no you can’t just fly here right now from mexico” and “ok maybe i could fly to brazil but maybe you should just come here for an extended stay before vegas.” needless to say she was definitely talking to lando and it sounded like they were more than friends!”
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user44: ok hittin us w the invasion of her privacy
user7: oh my god our boy did it - he bagged his baddie
user99: obsessed with him trying to solve her problems and immediately trying to fly to her
user67: hoping if i post really obnoxiously about my celebrity crush they’ll too have no choice but to want me
user1: i can’t believe after the last 5 months of pining he’s actually gotten the girl
user9: i’m not believing nothing until we see if from them
user12: y’all gotta stop speculating about these two
user13: amazing day for annoying people (me)!
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ynuser: what happens in vegas stays in vegas
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user12: cryptic 🤔
user7: she’s in the paddock 😭😭😭😭
user33: omg shes at the grand prix someone please check on our boy lando
oscarpiastri: was a pleasure meeting you y/n!
ynuser: likewise oscar!! had a great time getting to know you and lily
maxverstappen1: so nice to meet you!! looking forward to you wiping the floor with me when we play that game of padel you promised
ynuser: remember, you told me you’d play basketball with me in exchange!!
maxverstappen1: how could i forget?
user35: adore the fact that max will beg anyone and everyone to play padel with him
user47: i’d love to see max playing basketball 😂
user55: wnba x f1 crossover i never knew i needed
landonorris: hopefully things that happened in vegas can happen outside of vegas too 😉
ynuser: if you play your cards right mr norris 😏
user7: i feel like im interrupting something here
user47: ugh you are always serving so hard in your fits girl
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user17: YOURE ON A DATE!!! WITH Y/N I HOPE
user18: shocked you didn’t tag her mate
maxfewtrell: so you can post a story but not reply to my texts asking how it went??
landonorris: sorry i was busy 😉
maxfewtrell: oh my god.. you sealed the deal?
landonorris: yes i did! say hello to the wnba’s newest wag
maxfewtrell: never doubted you for a second
landonorris: yes you did but it’s ok
ynuser: thank you for a lovely dinner 🤍
landonorris: of course gorgeous 🧡
landonorris: and thanks for giving me a chance 🥹
ynuser: i should be thanking you for your persistence. i’m so glad we met lando
landonorris: likewise y/n/n
user22: i’m screaming and crying and throwing up
carlossainz55: looks like the devotion to basketball is paying off?
landonorris: yes sir it is 😉
user55: queuing that should be me by justin bieber rn
user66: that’s our BOY
landonorris has made a post

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landonorris: never doubt me again
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user17: NEVER DOUBTED FOR A SECOND
user6: my bad king , i didn’t realize you had this much game
maxfewtrell: i’m not even allowed to touch your car let alone sit on it
landonorris: yeah well you don’t sit on my face so why would i let you sit on my car [comment has been deleted by user]
user17: WE SAW THAT LANDO
user88: lando you naughty boy omg
oscarpiastri: thank god
landonorris: thanks for sticking with me bestie
user43: couldn’t be happier to see this hard launch
ynuser: we are so hot
landnorris: the hottest
seattlestorm: safe to say that we are formula 1 fans now
user83: i’ve never rooted for a couple more than this one
user92: he got the girl, he got the win, he’s got it all. let’s go lando
゚. ✿ ୨❤︎୧⠀✿ . ゚
a/n: thanks for reading!! likes and reblogs appreciated 🫶🏻
゚. ✿ ୨❤︎୧⠀✿ . ゚
disclaimer: pictures are not mine and everything i write is fiction
© norrisainz33 || please do not rewrite, translate, or copy any of my works posted here on to any other platform
#f1 fandom#formula 1#f1 fanfic#f1 imagine#f1 smau#f1 social media au#f1 x reader#formula 1 fanfic#formula 1 imagine#formula 1 x reader#lando norris smau#lando norris x you#lando norris x y/n#lando norris x reader#lando norris imagine#lando norris#ln4 x reader#ln4 imagine#ln4 x y/n#ln4 fic#ln4 fluff#ln4 x you#ln4 smau
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💚💚
"You need to break the time loop. Stop trying to save me. I love you."
[This message has been played 18446744073709551615 times. Would you like to hear it again?]
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Question why did Blackbeard only target Luffy when there were other Rockies. I know the real answer is Oda didn’t create Kid at that point in time but it makes me wonder.
Well like you said; out of universe, Oda hadn't planned THAT FAR in advance.
In Universe, he probably knows more about Luffy than we give him credit for.
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Senior day
Sorry I've been gone for a month! I'm going to try to write more again, but no promises. Also sorry if the end is a bit abrupt, I suck at writing endings. Constructive criticism is always welcome :D You can find part 2 here. Find my masterlist here :)
Pairing(s): Paige Bueckers x female!reader Word count: 3.1k+ Summary: Y/N finally surprises her girlfriend on senior day. ------------
If there was one thing you loved, it was surprises. Well, you liked surprising other people, you didn’t love getting surprised yourself. Which sucked because somehow, Paige always managed to surprise you, while she always knew what you were up to before you even knew.
Every time you tried to surprise her by showing up at her dorm unannounced, she was there to open the door with a bouquet of flowers or a box of chocolates of her own. The fact that she knew your training schedule by heart and knew you’d come visit her every spare time you got warmed your heart, but man, was it annoying you never got to surprise her.
The second your schedule was cleared and you didn’t reply for a few hours, she immediately knew you were on a plane to Storrs. Even when you tried lying by saying you were going to take a nap or you had extra practice, she knew.
This time, it would be different.
When you got your training schedule e-mail at the beginning of the year, you immediately checked what the plan was for the 2nd of March. Seeing you didn’t have any practice, you basically jumped out of your seat. You immediately went into edit mode and changed the data to a full day of practice. Right as you click “save”, your phone pings.
“Let’s gooo, we don’t have practice on senior day!! Are we flying to Storrs together?” The message reads. Grinning, you open the chat and press the FaceTime icon. Seeing Nika’s face pop up, you give her a wide smile as you say, “We’re flying together, and we’re gonna surprise the hell out of Paige!” The Croatian chuckles at your excitement. “Well hello to you too, babes,” she teases as her accent shines through. You roll your eyes playfully as you stick your tongue out at your best friend.
“Hi lovely, how are you, queen of my life?” You joke, making her laugh. “Okay, you’re doing too much,” she giggles, shaking her head in amusement. You wink at her before looking back at your laptop and sending her the edited schedule. “Alright, I edited the e-mail we got, so now when we send it to P, she’ll think we’ll be busy that day, and she won’t see us coming!”
“Right, that’s totallyyyy gonna work,” the brunette nods with a smile. You pout at her as you whine, “It will! I don’t know how she always knows when I’m on my way to her, but she won’t this time! We just need to make sure we’re subtle, and that the team doesn’t snitch.”
You both continue to talk for another 10 minutes before your phone starts pinging with messages from your favorite blonde. Seeing the dopey grin on your face, Nika says her goodbyes and tells you to say hi to “Lovergirl”. Once the brunette’s face disappears from your screen, you tap Paige’s chat on your laptop and call her.
“Hey ma,” the blonde says with a soft smile. You send her a smile of your own as your pupils dilate at the sight of her. “Hey baby,” you respond, placing your cheek in your palm as you stare at her. Her baby hairs are sticking up, her eye bags look a little darker than the last time you saw her, and her lips are a bit chapped, but she still looks like the prettiest girl in the world to you.
“Did you get your training timetable yet?” She asks, her right eyebrow raising slightly. You hum as you share your screen with her. The blonde leans in closer to the camera to get a better view, making you smile. You take a screenshot of her cute, scrunched-up face before focusing back on the calendar. “Damn, I was hoping you’d be free for senior day,” she huffs playfully, but you can tell she’s trying to hide her disappointment.
You bite your lip, feeling bad that she’s upset, but you force yourself to keep it a secret. “I know, love,” you say softly, “but I promise I’ll be cheering you on from here!” Paige brightens up a bit, though not by much, so you change the subject. “I can’t believe you’re joining the WNBA soon… I can’t wait to kick your ass in front of thousands of people.”
Paige laughs loudly as she shakes her head, “Keep dreaming, babe.” You raise your eyebrow challengingly at her. “If my mind serves me right, I beat your ass at Christmas.” She rolls her eyes in return. “You cheated, and you know it,” the blonde complains. You laugh as you raise your hands in question, “How did I cheat?”
“Uhm, you were only wearing shorts and a sports bra, which you know drives me crazy. You kept flirting with me, trying to distract me. And you paid the ref to look the other way when you weren’t following the rules.” She replies, counting the reasons on her fingers. You smirk at the first two reasons but can’t help bursting out in laughter hearing the third.
“I did not pay Drew to look the other way,” you say as you try to stop laughing. “Mhm, sureee, yet a few hours after the fact, Drew suddenly has a new game he’s been wanting for a while,” she replies, squinting her eyes in suspicion. You simply shake your head at her.
When you open your mouth to defend yourself, you hear Azzi calling Paige’s name in the background. The blonde looks offscreen and mumbles a few things before looking back with a slight frown. “I gotta go, baby,” she says, her eyes becoming a little less bright. You feel your heart clench, but you try to remain strong for her. “Alright, love, have fun at practice, don’t overwork yourself! I’ll talk to you later, okay?”
She smiles softly. “Alright, bye, I love you!” “I love you too!” Once her face disappears from your screen, you sigh. Though you’d seen her just last week for the holidays, you missed her already. You both knew it wasn’t going to be easy being in a relationship while you were both in different states, but there was no way you were going to let each other go.
-------------------
The next few weeks are hard. Paige is practicing more and harder than she ever has, wanting to leave UConn with a bang, meaning you barely ever have time to talk. The few times you guys are able to call, the blonde falls asleep within minutes of hearing your voice. Every morning after, you get a very sad message as she apologizes for once again falling asleep. Every time she does, you reassure her it’s okay, being happy that she finds comfort in your voice as she dozes off. Sure, you’d love to actually have a proper conversation with her, but you know she’s doing her best.
Besides, it’s not like you weren’t busy, either. Your coach had you practicing more than ever, wanting the team to be prepared to start off the season well. When you weren’t practicing with the team, you were in the gym with Nika, synchronizing your moves to become even better teammates. You were doing a pretty good job, though your heart felt heavy from the lack of seeing your girl.
You counted down the days until senior day, and with only a few days left, you were getting restless. “Okay, we should arrive about two hours before the game, so that should give us enough time to pick up the flowers, get settled and ready, and hopefully get to our seats without being swarmed by fans.” You ramble nervously as you fall back onto Nika’s bed. The brunette smiles at you as she settles down next to you, brushing some hair out of your face. “It’s gonna be okay, babe, stop stressing.”
“I just wanna make sure everything is perfect for her, she deserves that,” you reply as you look at your friend. “And it will be! I’ve been texting Azzi, and it seems P believes that we won’t make it, she’s all mopey.” She grins at the thought of a pouty Paige, knowing the girl gets a bit childish when she’s upset. You roll your eyes at her, but you can’t help your lips curving up a little.
“Only a few more days,” you thought to yourself.
-------------------
The second your plane lands, you and Nika speed over to get your bags before rushing to your hotel. You make a quick stop at the florist to pick up a bouquet of flowers, beaming when you see how pretty they are. You each take turns taking a quick shower before getting ready together. You help Nika braid her hair as she helps you with your make-up. Sensing your stress, the brunette takes your mind off of things by talking about random things like the new restaurant you two should go to and the new show you’ve been watching.
You make a mental note to treat the Croatian to a nice girls day for everything she’s done for you.
Once you’re ready, you make your way over to the stadium. Your stomach flutters with nerves as you fidget with the bouquet. Once inside, you make your way over to one of the UConn staff members and an old friend of yours, handing him the flowers so he can keep them safe for now. You talk with him for a moment before Nika lets you know it’s time to get to your seats. You tap your foot to the music that’s playing as you wait for the Huskies to come out and warm up.
When you hear the crowd start cheering, you look up and see the players slowly walk onto the court, grinning as they take in the moment. Your eyes immediately zero in on Paige as she walks onto the court with KK and Azzi by her side. A grin forms on your lips as you watch the blonde and the freshman tease each other. When you look at the team’s princess, you see she’s already looking at you with big eyes and a wide grin.
You send Azzi a wave before looking back at Paige. Having noticed the younger girl beside her isn’t paying attention, the blonde looks over at her. She follows her gaze before freezing mid-step. Her blue eyes meet yours, and it feels like everything around you fades. Her pearly whites shine bright as she smiles at you.
She quickly starts walking over to you as you get up to meet her halfway. The second she’s within reach, you fling your arms around her neck as she lifts you into a tight hug. You squeeze her close to you, finally feeling whole again. You feel the taller girl breathe in your signature perfume as she buries her face into the crook of your neck. You rub her neck with your thumb as you greet her, “Hey baby,” you whisper as to not break the moment.
When she pulls back, you see a few tears have formed in her eyes. You chuckle as you rub your thumbs over the apples of her cheeks. “How? I thought you had practice?” She mutters, looking away from you for a moment to send Nika a big smile. “I may or may not have edited the file…” you say with a cheeky grin, “Surprise!” The blonde shakes her head as she laughs, her eyes seem lighter than ever.
She looks around for a moment before shrugging and saying, “Fuck it.” She pulls you into a sweet kiss that leaves you both blushing as you hear the crowd around you cheer even louder than before. You push her away, shaking your head as you bite your lip to stop the huge grin growing on your face. “Go warm up, loser,” you tease. She nods her head, her eyes twinkling. She squeezes your hand before walking back to her team. “Hey P!” You yell, making her look back. “Knock ‘em dead!”
She sends you a smirk and a salute, causing the butterflies in your stomach to stir. You had full confidence in UConn, having seen the insane games they’ve been having lately, but that didn’t make the game any less nerve-wracking. Anything could happen. A bad fall, a shitty ref, or even just the nerves getting to the team. But even with all your worries about a possible injury, a smile is etched onto your face the whole match. Seeing Paige on the court, exactly where she belongs, is magical. It’s like seeing the last puzzle piece click into place.
As the last seconds tick by, you’re standing up beside Nika, applauding and cheering so hard your hands burn and your throat aches. As the final buzzer goes off, you pull the Croatian into a tight hug as the Huskies jump into a group hug. Once things have calmed down a bit, Paige waves you over, so you grab Nika’s hand and walk onto the court. The two of you immediately get bombarded by hugs, high-fives, and pats on the shoulder from the team. You gush to them about how well they played before finally making your way over to the star of the show.
You fling yourself into the blonde’s arms right away, not caring about her sweatiness. You hold her so tight that you fear she might not be able to breathe. You feel her heart beating loudly against her chest as your head lays against her. “I’m so fucking proud of you, baby,” you mutter, smiling up at her with love clear in your eyes.
Paige pulls you into a searing kiss, not caring about the camera’s flashing around you. “I love you so much,” she breathes out as she leans her forehead against yours. “And I you, my love,” you reply, your heart feeling like it’s about to burst out of its cage.
You let her go after a moment, letting her go to her team for the end of senior night. You stand around with Nika for a bit before it’s time for the ceremony. Giving the Croatian’s hand a squeeze, you walk towards where the Huskies are standing. You stroll over to Paige and her family, giving Drew a high five and the rest of her family a hug.
The blonde looks at you with adoration and a hint of confusion. You stop next to her, sliding a hand into hers. “I’d love to walk with you, if that’s okay?” You ask with an easy smile. “Of course, but… I thought only family was allowed to do that?” She replies, her brows knitted together. “Usually, yeah, but… I pulled some strings,” you grin mischievously. A chuckle escapes her lips, but before she can say anything, the lights dim and a hush spreads over the crowd.
You squeeze her hand before looking ahead at the announcer as he starts announcing the first senior, Kaitlyn Chen. You clap as she starts walking with her family, a bright smile on your face. You might never have played with the girl, but you adored her energy and had heard great things about her from Paige.
Once it’s Paige’s turn, you walk beside her, winking at some of your old teammates as you pass them. Reaching Geno, you give him a tight squeeze, missing the old grump more than you dared to tell anyone. Once the blonde receives her frame, you take a step back with her siblings, letting her have her moment. You sling your arms around them, letting Drew stand in front of you as he leans against your front. Seeing their teary eyes, you squeeze their shoulders as you give them a watery smile.
After a moment, Paige waves everyone over. You give her siblings a tiny push as you grin her way. You let them take some pictures before joining them after a pointed look from your girlfriend. As you stand there, surrounded by your favorite people, your heart swells. Nothing could wipe your smile off of your face.
As you pose for the camera, your right pocket feels heavy. Though the tiny blue box holds nothing more than a ring and a thousand promises, it feels like it’s aflame and ready to burn its way to freedom.
While you don’t plan on proposing in the middle of a big gym, surrounded by sweaty bodies and a howling crowd, you do have the ring on your person. Though it makes you slightly anxious, fearing you might lose it or Paige might see it, it also brings you a type of serene calm. You brush your hands against it, letting the velvet box ground you. Knowing that tonight is the night you’ll finally ask the love of your life to be yours forever only makes this day that much sweeter.
You squeeze the taller girl’s hand thrice before letting her go so she can take some more pictures with the other seniors. Once the whole team joins them on the court again, it’s time for the unveiling of your girl’s name on the wall of legends. Tears well up in your eyes once more at the feeling of pure pride and adoration you have. Nika laughs beside you, seeing you become a mess. She hands you a tissue as she gives you a tight side hug.
Once Paige is done with her speech and senior night is coming to an end. You walk back over to her, this time holding the bouquet you’d gotten her. She grins as she sees you coming, a light blush covering her cheeks at the sight of her favorite flowers. “You didn’t have to get me these,” she says, but you can hear the appreciation in her voice. “I know, but I wanted to. You deserve this… Not just the flowers, this whole thing, I mean. You’re amazing. As a basketball player, a leader, a friend, a sister, and a girlfriend. Meeting you is the best thing that’s ever happened to me,” you ramble before biting your tongue. You have an entire speech planned for tonight, now is not the time to start blabbing.
The girl in front of you opens her mouth to speak, but no sound comes out. You’ve left her completely speechless with your sweet words, so instead of saying anything, she just pulls you against her, making sure not to crush the flowers. You hold her for a moment before pushing her away. “Now go shower, you stink,” you grin playfully. “Ugh, you’re so annoying,” she huffs back, but a smile is visible on her face.
You watch her walk away and into the locker rooms, exhaling as you roll your shoulders back. You try not to worry about the big question tonight, knowing you can’t back out. Turning around, your eyes catch Nika’s from where she’s standing with Geno. She sends you a smile and a tiny nod of encouragement, knowing your plan for tonight. You send her one in return before walking over to your (hopefully) soon-to-be in-laws.
“I’ve got this,” you think to yourself.
#paige bueckers x reader#paige x reader#paige bueckers oneshot#paige bueckers#paige bueckers x you#oneshot#imagine#uconn huskies#uconn wbb#wlw fanfic#bapeach writes
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thank you for including me in this awesome list 🥺



updated: 09.03.25
ᯓ★ fluff
His Sweet Girl (❤): Bucky taking care of his best girl. (@brnesblogposts)
Marshmallow (❤): her bed is too comfy for Bucky. But she has a solution. (@vivwritesfics)
Wallpaper (❤): Bucky finds out how to change the wallpaper on your phone, and takes every opportunity he can to do so. until one day he doesn't have the heart to. (@cosmicbucky)
Clean Shaven (❤): you shave Bucky. (@your-highnessmarvel)
Dog Tags and Drunkenness (❤): you go clubbing with some of the girls from the team to try and find Nat a date, but Bucky has a pretty specific routine in place whenever you leave his side. (@buck-buck-buckaroo)
Sanctuary (❤): we all need a safe place to rest, even when some of us don't believe it. (@eat-limes-bitches)
My Responsibility Is You (❤): Bucky’s girl has to get her wisdom teeth removed, and he would go to all lengths to protect her from that experience—but he has to deal with the aftermath and takes care of her in the best possible ways. (@eviesaurusrex)
Snowfall (❤): you refuse to go outside on a cold day and Bucky is more than happy to keep you warm. - florist!bucky (@navybrat817)
The Marriage Bet (❤): if in three years time both of you were still single, you will marry your best friend, Bucky. That's the bet. (@brunchable)
Loverboy (❤): Bucky, a lovesick, pining super soldier, vows to keep his feelings for you a secret — no matter how obvious his crush may seem. Those plans are ruined between a meddling Sam, an embarrassing fall, and a visit to the medbay with you. (@thevillainswhore)
From Me, To You (❤❅): as Bucky’s secret santa, you’re determined to give him the best christmas present he’s ever received. (@retrosabers)
Hold My Girl (❤): Bucky comes home from a mission and needs time to hold his girl. (@pellucid-constellations)
Magnetic Mishap (❤): you bought magnets for Bucky's arm, forgetting that vibranium is not magnetic. (@rinasauruss)
The Life (❤): Bucky Barnes and the domesticity he deserves. (@hesthermay)
Pluvial Kisses! (❤): Bucky being the absolute fuckin dream of a man. (@mercurial-chuckles)
Yours, Whether You Know It Or Not (❤): you’ve been running missions with Sam and Bucky for a while now, and everything was fine—until John Walker started showing up and taking an interest in you. Bucky isn’t having it. Not because he’s jealous. Definitely not because he’s jealous. He just doesn’t trust Walker. Right? (@magical-reid)
new! Bucky's Quiet Love (❤❅): after a painful breakup, Bucky offers quiet comfort and unconditional care, showing you a love that's patient and gentle. He mends the ache in your chest and reminds you that you deserve so much more. (@mugglebornmarvelite)
new! Five Days, Five Bouquets (❤): "Do I need to remind you that we're not actually married?" (@marvelstoriesepic)
new! Weakness (❤✧): you use Bucky’s only weakness to your advantage until it bites you in the ass. (@marvelstoriesepic)
new! The Soldier and His Mission (❤❅): when a trigger sends Bucky back into the grip of the Winter Soldier, he shadows you with an unyielding protectiveness that leaves the team on edge, though he doesn't harm anyone. After days of tension and careful steps, Bucky finally breaks through the icy barrier, returning to himself in a quiet, tender moment, finding solace in your presence. (@magical-reid)
new! Forever Sounds Good (❤): Bucky Barnes had been called a lot of things in his lifetime—soldier, assassin, hero—but when you called him your husband, everything else ceased to exist. (@billionairebratenergy)
new! Baby, It's Bad Out There (❤❅): your best friend Kate has always been good at attracting trouble and this time, it’s starting to become your problem, too. Then again, what’s Christmas in New York City without meet-cutes and gunfire? (@intrepidacious)
new! Your Girl (❤): you're very vocal about wanting Bucky Barnes. (@navybrat817)
new! All American All-Star (❤): falling for the club’s American striker, Bucky Barnes, was never part of the plan— especially since your father happens to own the club. (@aquaticmercy)
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The Story of Tonight
Pairing: Paige Bueckers x Theatre Kid!Reader
Word count: 1175
Summary: When you land the lead role of Eliza in Hamilton, you excitedly tell her girlfriend, Paige, expecting support. Instead, she dismisses it as “just a college play”.
Your hands trembled as you refreshed your email for the hundredth time that day. Rehearsing your audition piece had been nerve-wracking enough, but waiting for the results? That was pure agony.
When your phone finally dinged with a new message, your breath caught in your throat.
"Dear [Y/N], congratulations! You have been cast as Eliza Hamilton in our upcoming production of Hamilton!"
For a moment, you just stared at the words, hardly believing them. Then, excitement exploded in your chest, and a loud squeal escaped your lips. You got it. You actually got the lead role!
There was only one person you wanted to tell first.
You practically sprinted across campus, ignoring the odd looks from passing students as you made your way to the gym. The familiar sound of sneakers squeaking against hardwood and basketballs bouncing filled the air as you stepped inside.
Paige was on the court, casually sinking three-pointers while talking with Ice and Nika. You grinned, bouncing on your feet, waiting for her to notice you.
“Paige!” you called, barely able to contain your excitement.
She turned at the sound of your voice, a lazy smile forming. “Hey, babe.”
“I got the role!” you practically shouted, unable to hold it in any longer. “I’m playing Eliza in Hamilton!”
Paige nodded, tossing the basketball back to Ice before looking at you again. “Oh, nice. That’s cool.”
You blinked, waiting for more.
That was it?
“Cool?” you echoed, your excitement faltering slightly.
“Yeah,” Paige shrugged. “I mean, I figured you’d get it. You’re always singing those songs anyway.”
Your heart sank. You had expected her to be excited, maybe even lift you up in celebration like she did after a big win. But instead, she just… dismissed it.
“I thought you’d be more excited,” you admitted, forcing a small laugh.
“I am happy for you,” Paige said, pecking your cheek before picking up the ball again. “But it’s just a college play, right? I don’t really get why it’s such a big deal.”
You froze.
Just a college play?
This wasn’t just some hobby you did for fun. Theatre was your passion. You had worked so hard for this moment, and Paige just brushed it off like it was nothing.
Your stomach twisted uncomfortably, but you didn’t want to start a fight in front of her teammates.
“Right,” you muttered, forcing a small smile. “Just a play.”
Paige didn’t even notice the way your shoulders slumped as you turned and walked away.
For the next few weeks, you poured your heart into rehearsals. You learned the choreography, memorized every line, and perfected your vocals until your throat was sore. Every single day, you gave everything you had to this performance.
At first, you still tried to tell Paige about it.
You’d excitedly recount your progress, talk about the incredible energy of the cast, or hum a new harmony you’d learned. But Paige always responded with the same half-hearted nods, sometimes distracted by her phone, other times stretching out after practice.
Eventually, you stopped bringing it up.
Then, one evening, after another long rehearsal, you sat beside her on the couch, cautiously bringing up the upcoming performances.
“So… opening night is next Friday,” you started. “I was wondering if you could come?”
Paige barely looked up from her phone. “I don’t think I can. I’ve got practice.”
Your heart clenched. “Your practices are in the morning. The shows are at night.”
“Yeah, but I’ll probably be too tired,” she replied with a shrug. “I’ll try to catch them if I can.”
You swallowed the lump in your throat, nodding stiffly.
“Yeah. Sure.”
Paige didn’t even notice how hurt you were.
Closing night arrived quicker than you expected. You should have been excited—this was your moment, the culmination of weeks of hard work.
But there was a weight in your chest.
Paige had missed every performance so far. She hadn’t even asked how things were going. Part of you had held onto the slim hope that she’d surprise you, show up one night and tell you she was proud of you.
But deep down, you knew she wouldn’t.
What you didn’t know was that Jana, Azzi, and Caroline had been working behind the scenes.
They had managed to secure tickets for the entire UConn women’s basketball team, determined to show up and support you—even if Paige wouldn’t.
“You actually got everyone to come?” Ice asked as they filed into the theater.
Jana grinned. “Damn right I did.”
Everyone was buzzing with excitement—except Paige. She crossed her arms, looking unimpressed.
“I still don’t get why this is such a big deal,” Paige muttered.
Jana turned to her, exasperated. “Are you serious right now?”
Azzi shook her head. “Paige, she’s your girlfriend. This is important to her.”
“She’s always at your games, cheering you on,” Caroline added. “Why can’t you do the same for her?”
Paige opened her mouth to argue but stopped.
They were right.
She had been so wrapped up in her own world that she hadn’t considered how much this meant to you. But still, she didn’t really understand—at least, not until the lights dimmed and the curtain rose.
Then she saw you step onto the stage.
For the first time, she watched you in your element—completely at home under the spotlight.
And when you sang Burn, voice thick with raw emotion, Paige felt something tighten in her chest.
She had never seen you like this before.
She had never realized just how talented you were.
And worst of all, she had never realized how much she had hurt you by not being there.
After the show, you stepped into the lobby, still buzzing with adrenaline.
The last thing you expected was to see the entire UConn women’s basketball team standing there, grinning at you.
Your eyes widened. “What—?”
Jana smirked. “Surprise, superstar.”
Your heart swelled, a mix of shock and happiness flooding through you. But then your gaze landed on Paige, standing slightly behind the group, looking guilty.
Paige stepped forward hesitantly. “Hey.”
You swallowed. “Hey.”
“You were…” Paige hesitated, then exhaled. “Incredible.”
You blinked, caught off guard.
Paige ran a hand through her hair, her voice softer now. “I was an idiot. I should’ve been there from the beginning. I should’ve supported you the way you support me. I’m so sorry, baby.”
You bit your lip, the hurt still lingering.
“I just didn’t get it before,” Paige continued, her eyes pleading. “But watching you up there tonight… I get it now. This is a big deal. And you were amazing.”
A small smile tugged at your lips. “You really think so?”
Paige nodded. “Yeah. And I promise, from now on, I’ll be your biggest fan.”
You sighed, finally letting go of the resentment you had been holding onto. “You better be.”
Paige grinned, wrapping her arms around you. The team erupted into cheers, and you couldn’t help but laugh.
Maybe Paige had been late to the party, but at least she had finally arrived.
And that was all that mattered.
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💌 Send this to the twelve nicest people you know or who seem to have a good heart and if you get five back you must be pretty awesome. 💌
💙💙💙💙💙pretty awesome +💙(beautiful)
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tied together – part 2
paige bueckers x azzi fudd
a/n: okay part 2 is finally here! thank you for all the kind words about part 1 i love yall fr. after you read spam my inbox and tell me how was it and what you want to see next in this series because that would help me finish writing it faster🩵
tied together – masterlist
paige’s pov:
there were three different air vents in the ceiling above paige’s bed, and she’d been staring at them long enough to map out their pattern in her head. she could hear the soft hum of the central air unit kicking on and off, a quiet rhythm that should’ve been comforting. should’ve put her to sleep. but it didn’t.
nika was snoring lightly in the other bed. arm slung over her stomach. unaware that her friend was drowning in a mess of memories, nerves, and someone she couldn’t stop thinking about.
paige rolled over again. the clock on the nightstand glared at her in burning red: 3:05 am.
she wanted to scream.
instead, she pressed her face into the pillow, muffling a frustrated groan. her legs tangled in the hotel sheets, which had somehow gotten too hot despite the air conditioning. she threw them off and sat up, scrubbing her hands over her face. her chest was tight again.
not the post-game adrenaline. not soreness.
azzi.
always azzi.
her name had been playing on a loop in paige’s mind since the final buzzer. since that short conversation they shared just off the court—tense and quiet and loaded with everything paige had been trying to suppress since their last goodbye. since the last time she kissed her in the backseat of her car with trembling hands and didn’t say anything afterward. since she found out azzi committed to south carolina in a headline instead of a phone call.
what azzi had said to her after the game kept echoing in her head:
“i don’t know if it’s too late.”
it felt like it might be. felt like they’d crossed whatever line you don’t come back from. not because of the game. not even because of the school decisions. it was everything in between. the silence. the missed chances. the way they’d let pride fill the space where honesty should’ve lived.
she ran her hands down her face, frustrated. it wasn’t supposed to go like this.
they were supposed to rise together. be legendary together. win together. lose together.
instead? they had become a story people whispered about. “paige and azzi would’ve been inseparable if they played together.”
now they were rivals.
she should’ve said more. in the tunnel. when azzi stood there looking torn between biting her head off and reaching out. paige had seen it—the war behind her eyes. she could read azzi like a damn book. could always tell when she was bluffing. when she was hurt.
tonight, azzi had been both.
and paige had let her walk away.
again.
and now here she was—three in the morning, sitting in a hotel bed , not an ounce of sleep in her body, and one very real urge building like wildfire in her chest.
she reached over to the nightstand and grabbed her phone, squinting against the light as she unlocked it.
her thumb hovered over azzi’s name.
they hadn’t texted in months. not since before azzi announced she was going to sc. not since paige stopped replying altogether. there were so many almost-messages saved in the drafts: little check-ins, late-night thoughts, deleted love letters.
she hovered her fingers over the keyboard. started typing. deleted. tried again.
are you still awake?
she stared at it.
didn’t send it.
she started typing again, like she had a thousand times.
i miss you.
just those three words.
she stared at them. read them over. read them again. her heart thumped like it was trying to break out of her chest.
then, like always, she deleted it.
she couldn’t do this through a screen.
not anymore.
she was out of bed five minutes later.
slipping her phone into the hoodie pocket. moving slow to not wake nika. she slid on her uconn slides and crept into the hallway with her hoodie pulled tight around her, the strings bouncing against her chest.
the hallway was dim and silent, except for the low sound of vending machines and the soft, faraway sound of an elevator ding.
paige walked past room after room, carpet muffling her footsteps.
room 350.
she remembered the number because she’d seen it on a clipboard earlier that day when the teams checked in. she was signing some form in the hotel lobby and caught the room assignments. her eyes had skimmed the page, heart skipping when she saw bueckers – 250 right above fudd – 350.
she told herself it was coincidence she saw it. she told herself she wasn’t trying to remember.
but here she was.
standing in front of it.
she hesitated, staring at the door like they held the answer to smthing she didn’t know how to ask.
paige closed her eyes for a second. her hand trembled as she raised it. she knocked.
the door opened fast—like azzi had been standing right behind it.
maybe she had.
and there she was.
azzi.
hair messy. hoodie oversized. barefoot.
she froze when she saw paige.
neither of them said anything for a second.
then azzi leaned against the doorframe, blinking like she wasn’t sure if this was real or just something her brain had conjured up from exhaustion.
azzi’s pov:
the room was too cold, but azzi refused to get under the covers. she’d been sitting alone upright in bed for nearly an hour, hoodie on, legs crossed, just… thinking.
not about the game.
about her.
about the way paige had looked when their eyes met across the court again. like she hadn’t aged a day and yet somehow carried years in her expression. about the way her voice cracked when she said, “i don’t know if it’s too late.”
that moment replayed in her mind over and over, like a skipped record.
azzi had pretended to be fine all day. laughed with her teammates, took pictures with fans, smiled for the cameras. but she hadn’t been fine in months.
not since that night paige stopped answering.
not since she chose herself and sc and left paige behind—and paige didn’t fight for her.
azzi had her phone in her lap, paige’s contact open on the screen, but her fingers refused to move. her pride refused to reach out first. again.
she was just about to shut it off when the knock came.
it wasn’t loud. but she knew. somehow, before she even looked through the peephole. she knew.
she pulled open the door fast, heart already thudding in her chest.
and there she was.
paige.
hair messy. eyes tired. mouth parted like she didn’t know what to say.
azzi stepped aside without a word.
paige stood just inside the doorway, her hand still curled around the strap of her hoodie like she wasn’t sure she was staying. her eyes swept the room—messy bed,few azzi’s tshirts hanging halfway off the chair—but she didn’t comment. she just looked… tired. unsteady. like showing up at 3am hadn’t been impulsive at all, but something she’d been fighting herself over all night.
paige swallowed. “hey.”
azzi’s voice was a whisper. “paige it’s 3 a.m.”
“i know.”
another pause.
azzi tilted her head slightly. “you came all the way up here just to stare at me?”
“i wasn’t done,” paige said, her voice low. “back there. in the tunnel.”
azzi looked away. “you were right not to be.”
there was a beat. a breath.
then paige stepped forward.
“look, i don’t know what the hell we’re doing anymore. but i’m tired of pretending like this doesn’t still mess me up.”
azzi didn’t say anything, but her eyes softened. just a little.
paige kept going.
“i messed up. i didn’t call when i should’ve. i didn’t fight for us when i should’ve. and maybe that’s on me. but i need you to know…” she trailed off, swallowing hard. “it wasn’t because i stopped caring.”
azzi blinked slowly, her arms folding tighter across her chest. “it felt like it.”
“i know.”
more silence.
the hallway was still. the only sound was paige’s heartbeat thudding against her ribs.
then azzi stepped aside, just enough for paige to walk past her.
just enough to let her in.
and paige did.
she doesn’t say anything when paige steps inside. the door closes with a soft click, like the quiet has finally wrapped around them and won’t let go.
azzi leans back against it, watching as paige walks a few steps into the room—like she’s unsure whether she’s allowed to belong here.
the space between them is maybe five feet, but it feels like ten miles.
“nice room,” paige says, her voice low, teasing by instinct but without bite.
azzi doesn’t laugh. just gives her a slow once-over. hair tousled. hoodie sleeves tugged over her hands. eyes tired but too alive for this hour.
“you’re bold,” azzi finally says. “for showing up here.”
paige shrugs. “you didn’t slam the door.”
“didn’t mean i was ready to talk.”
“you didn’t look ready to not talk either.”
silence again.
the adrenaline from the game, the tunnel, paige’s sudden appearance—it’s all still buzzing under azzi’s skin.
“you want to sit?” azzi asked quietly, voice low so it didn’t carry down the hallway. “or…?”
“yeah.” paige exhaled. “yeah, i just—couldn’t sleep.”
azzi moved toward the bed and sat cross-legged near the top, motioning for her to sit. paige took the far edge, careful like she was afraid to sink too far into the mattress. the air between them stretched, tight and quiet.
she doesn’t know what she wants more: to scream at her, or to lie next to her and pretend nothing ever changed.
“you really think showing up like this fixes it?” azzi asks quietly.
paige doesn’t answer right away.
“no,” she says. “but i think it’s a start.”
“i kept thinking about what you said,” paige said after a beat. “or what you didn’t say.”
azzi swallowed. “in the tunnel?”
paige nodded.
“it’s not that simple,” azzi said. “it never was.”
“i didn’t ask for simple.” paige’s voice was soft, but not weak. “i just want to know if it’s too late.”
azzi looked at her. really looked. the same loose blonde hair, the same tired eyes, the same little freckle under her lip she used to stare at when paige would lean in close and pretend they were “just friends.”
“it felt like you gave up,” azzi whispered.
paige flinched. “you left.”
“you ghosted me.”
“you didn’t call.”
azzi laughed, bitter. “you think committing to south carolina was about you?”
paige blinked. “wasn’t it?”
azzi’s breath caught. she turned away, stared at the lamp on the desk. “i couldn’t be in your shadow, paige. not forever. not when i was trying to figure out who i even was.”
“i never wanted you in my shadow.”
“you didn’t have to want it. it just happened.”
silence again.
paige shifted on the bed. “so we just… stop talking? after everything?”
azzi didn’t answer.
──────────── ౨ৎ ────────────
azzi hasn’t moved since she sat down. paige doesn’t know what to do with her hands. her mouth. her entire body.
“you looked good out there,” she says, trying to break the silence again. “you always do, but… tonight especially.”
azzi looks up at her with a dry, unimpressed expression. “compliments now?”
“too soon?”
“try ‘not helpful.’”
paige nods, tries to laugh it off, but it dies quickly.
“i miss you,” she blurts, before she can stop herself.
azzi freezes.
the air shifts.
“you don’t get to say that like it’s easy,” azzi says slowly.
“i’m not trying to make it easy. i’m trying to be honest.”
“where was that honesty few months ago?” her voice is sharp, but not loud. controlled. the way azzi always was—even when she was breaking.
paige doesn’t flinch. “i was scared.”
“of what? me?”
“of choosing you and losing the rest.”
azzi stands up suddenly. “so you didn’t choose me, and you lost me anyway.”
the words hang in the air like smoke from a slow fire. dangerous. choking.
paige walks closer. not enough to touch. just enough to be in range.
“i didn’t know what i was doing. i thought we’d have more time.”
azzi shakes her head. “we had the time. you just… didn’t show up.”
paige leaned back on her hands, voice lighter, more teasing now: “we were definitely more than friends. i still remember the backseat of my car in december.”
azzi raised an eyebrow. “we were cold.”
“oh, right. that’s why your hands were under my shirt.”
“you weren’t complaining.”
paige smirked. “i’m not now.”
and just like that, the air changed again. warmer. more dangerous.
azzi looked at her, studying the soft curve of her mouth, the way her eyes held hers like a dare. like she was testing how far she could push before something cracked.
“you always did this,” azzi said. “made it a joke before it got too real.”
paige’s expression faltered. “it was real.”
“then why didn’t you fight for me?”
azzi didn’t mean to say it like that. but it was too late to take it back.
“i wanted you to fight,” she added, quieter now. “to come after me. even just once.”
paige stared at her. “you think i didn’t want to?”
“you didn’t.”
“i was hurt.”
“so was i.”
paige looked down at her lap, fingers twisting together. “we were scared.”
azzi nodded. “we still are.”
neither of them moved for a long time.
then paige looked up, slow, like the weight of every memory was pulling her gaze. “i missed you,” she whispered.
azzi swallowed hard. “i missed you too.”
there was a pull. invisible, magnetic. paige inched closer, her knees brushing azzi’s now. her eyes were soft, unreadable. but azzi knew that look. that was the look that used to undo her in long car rides and quiet corners at tournaments where no one was looking.
she should’ve looked away.
but she didn’t.
and paige leaned in.
just close enough that azzi could feel her breath.
“i shouldn’t,” azzi said.
“you don’t want to?”
paige’s voice was quiet, but it wasn’t a question. not really.
azzi’s heart beat too loud in her chest. “that’s not the same thing.”
usa basketball u16 women’s national team
it was after curfew one night during fiba women’s americas championship in argentina. they were buzzing on adrenaline and the quiet hush of a hotel where everyone else was asleep.
paige had crept into azzi’s room, just like this. hoodie half-zipped, socks mismatched. she had laid down beside her on the bed like it was the most natural thing in the world.
they talked for hours. about fear, pressure and carrying the weight of a country on their shoulders. paige had this soft way of looking at her—like she saw the good parts azzi tried to hide under perfection.
then paige reached out and touched her hand, so gentle. their fingers curled together. and azzi had leaned in first that night.
their first kiss was quiet. unpracticed. but it burned in azzi’s memory like scripture.
the next morning, they never talked about it. but everything changed.
paige nodded slowly. “it was real, though. right? we weren’t just friends.”
azzi huffed a soft laugh. “friends don’t make out in hotel elevators.”
“or in the back of your mom’s car.”
“or sneak into each other’s rooms during usa basketball.”
they looked at each other.
and smiled. the kind of smile that held too much weight behind it.
october 2021
they were on the rooftop of some building, sneakers kicked off, music low. the stars were hiding behind a thick gray haze, but they didn’t care.
azzi was leaning against her shoulder, paige’s hoodie pulled over both of them like a tent.
“you ever think we’ll get sick of each other?” azzi asked.
paige laughed. “you’d miss me in, like, two days.”
“two hours,” azzi corrected with a smile.
there had been no doubt back then. just this quiet, loud certainty. the way you just knew when you were with the right person—even if the world didn’t make space for it.
azzi traced circles on paige’s hand. “don’t leave.”
“i won’t.”
both of them did.
paige leaned back against the headboard. “you remember the night when we went out on the roof?” she asked, voice low.
“oh my god,” azzi laughed. “you had me wrapped in your hoodie like that was gonna make us invisible.”
“you were cold,” paige said with a shrug. “and also… you looked cute in it.”
azzi turned to her, eyes playful. “so you admit it. you were down bad.”
“yeah whatever, but you know what else i remember,” paige said, voice soft. “usa basketball u16. you kissed me and then you wouldn’t look at me the next day.”
azzi laughed under her breath. “i was freaking out.”
“you still do that, kiss me and then disappear.”
azzi bit her lip. “and you still let me.”
paige turned her body slightly, resting her weight on one elbow.
they were quiet again. but not the heavy kind. this was lighter. fragile.
“i kissed you first that night,” azzi said. “and i kept waiting for you to say something after. like, ‘tell me what it meant’. but you didn’t.”
paige looked away, shame crawling up her spine. “i didn’t know how. i was scared.”
“of what?”
“that if i said i loved you, you wouldn’t say it back.”
azzi was quiet.
and then she said, “i would’ve.”
the words hung in the room like a heartbeat.
azzi’s hands are clenched at her sides, and she can feel the war happening in her chest—part of her wants to yell, part of her wants to cry, and part of her just wants to fall into paige’s hoodie and pretend nothing changed.
“you broke my heart,” azzi says. quiet. not accusing. not soft. just true.
“i know.”
“and you waited until you lost to come here and say it?”
“i didn’t come because we lost.” paige looks right at her. “i came because i couldn’t leave town knowing i hadn’t looked you in the eye and told you everything i never said.”
azzi’s eyes start to sting. she blinks hard.
“i was angry,” she says. “for a long time.”
“you should’ve been.”
“and i hated you for a little while.”
paige doesn’t flinch.
“but mostly,” azzi says, her voice almost breaking, “i just missed you.”
they’re lying on the bed now, not touching, but close enough that their pinkies brush every time one of them breathes too deep.
it’s quiet.
their voices are tired. their eyes are heavier.
“i used to rehearse it,” paige says softly. “what i’d say to you if i got the chance.”
“yeah?”
“it never went like this.”
azzi smiles, faintly. “same.”
azzi looked over at paige, really looked at her. blonde hair messy, eyes bloodshot but glowing in the low light, hoodie drowning her frame.
she looked tired, but beautiful.
azzi shifted. “what do we do now?”
paige looked up. “what do you want to do?”
azzi hesitated.
paige’s eyes softened, and then she said it—just barely louder than a whisper.
“come here.”
the kiss came slow.
no rush. no adrenaline.
azzi leaned forward first, hands trembling just a little, and paige met her halfway. their mouths pressed together in something warm, something real. it was a kiss built on months of silence, years of closeness, and all the things they never said.
when they pulled apart, neither of them moved. they stayed forehead-to-forehead, breathing the same breath.
“i can’t do this if we’re gonna pretend it’s nothing again,” paige whispered.
azzi nodded. “me neither.”
“then let’s figure out how to be something. just… not tonight.”
“tonight,” azzi murmured, “i just want you to stay right here.”
another long silence. but this one isn’t heavy. not quite. it’s almost… suspended. like the night hasn’t decided whether it’s heartbreak or healing.
paige finally turns toward her. “do you think we could start over?”
azzi doesn’t answer right away.
instead, she reaches up and gently tucks a loose curl behind paige’s ear. her fingers linger, and for a second—just one—paige leans into the touch.
“i don’t want to start over,” azzi says. “i want us to keep going.”
“but we’re not the same.”
“no,” azzi agrees. “but maybe that’s not the worst thing.”
──────────── ౨ৎ ────────────
they’d moved under the covers at some point. not touching. not kissing. just talking.
about everything.
about how paige felt like the injury had turned her into a ghost and how she didn’t want azzi to see her fading.
about how azzi cried on the plane to south carolina, because she realized she didn’t know how to build a life without paige in it.
4:45 a.m.
they’re still awake when the first light slips through the blinds.
azzi’s head is on paige’s shoulder now. paige’s fingers trace lazy patterns on her wrist.
they haven’t said the word love all night.
but it’s everywhere.
in the silences. in the unfinished sentences. in the way neither of them asked the other to leave.
they don’t know what tomorrow looks like. whether anything really got solved. whether this is just nostalgia wearing a disguise.
but for now—for this hour—it’s enough.
just them.
just paige and azzi.
and the space between them finally closing.
6.00 a.m.
paige doesn’t remember falling asleep. she only remembers the feeling of azzi’s breath warm against her neck, her name spoken softly in the dark, like an invitation and a promise all at once.
now, it’s morning.
the harsh kind. not soft and easy like in movies, where the light’s always golden and perfect. it’s gray, a little cold, and the sheets are tangled at their feet. her mouth is dry, her heart full of things she can’t quite articulate. she’s lying there in azzi’s bed, still wearing her hoodie from the night. everything about the situation feels like a careful balance, and paige isn’t sure how to breathe without making the whole thing fall apart.
azzi’s still asleep next to her, tucked against her side like a piece of her is trying to anchor itself in the moment. her hand is draped over paige’s ribcage, fingers just barely brushing the fabric of the hoodie, but the touch feels intimate, grounding.
it’s too early. too much. too real. paige doesn’t know how to walk this line between regret and longing.
she turns her head slightly, watching azzi’s face. the peacefulness there is so different from what’s been between them for years. paige doesn’t know what to do with the softness.
“i could stay here forever”, she thinks, but the world won’t let her.
azzi stirs beside her, shifts in the bed. the blanket moves slightly, and for a second, paige thinks she might slip into sleep again. but then azzi opens her eyes, blinking slowly as if she doesn’t quite understand where she is.
when their gazes meet, there’s something fragile there, something unspoken. but neither of them says a word.
the tension between them isn’t angry or distant—it’s something else. something too fragile to touch, but impossible to ignore.
azzi finally clears her throat. “you steal the covers even in your sleep.”
paige chuckles softly, though it’s awkward. “you drool on your pillow.”
azzi’s lips twitch, but it’s a strained smile. “good to know you’re paying attention.”
paige’s heart beats a little faster, but she can’t tell if it’s from the teasing or the something heavy still hanging in the air. she shifts slightly, her arm brushing against azzi’s. neither of them pulls away.
they’re caught in this moment—too close to run, too far to hide. but neither of them wants to break it just yet.
the silence between them stretches on, and this time, it doesn’t feel as comfortable. the clock is ticking. the day is waiting, and paige doesn’t know how to start the conversation. how to untangle everything they’ve left unsaid.
──────────── ౨ৎ ────────────
azzi pokes at her fruit, trying to ignore the strange sense of familiarity she’s feeling in this moment. she doesn’t want to feel comfortable. not yet. she doesn’t want to admit that the night before—whatever it was—mattered.
paige is sitting across from her, picking at a muffin like she’s doing her best to pretend this isn’t an awkward situation. but the air between them feels too soft for the usual easy banter they’re used to.
azzi stirs her coffee with more force than necessary, watching paige out of the corner of her eye. it’s too early for this, too raw. she doesn’t want to say anything that could make this harder than it already is.
but paige’s voice cuts through her thoughts. “i think that dude’s trying to figure out if i’m kidnapping you or something.”
azzi raises an eyebrow, glancing toward the table where one of the south carolina coaching staff is watching them. “you’re not that charming.”
“you let me walk you down here,” paige says, her voice quieter now.
azzi takes a deep breath, trying to ignore the flutter in her chest. “that was pity.”
“that was longing, and you know it.”
azzi doesn’t laugh. just stares at paige, feeling that familiar tension—pulling her closer and pushing her away at the same time.
“can we just… not?” azzi says, her voice quieter, more serious than she intended. “we both know what’s happened. we can’t pretend it’ll be easy.”
“i’m not pretending,” paige says softly, her eyes not meeting azzi’s. “but it’s still real.”
azzi’s heart skips a beat. real. what does that even mean now?
she looks away, trying to steady herself. “we both have things we have to deal with,” azzi mutters.
there’s no more laughter between them, just the sound of soft clinking as they finish their meals, neither one willing to speak more than they already have.
──────────── ౨ৎ ────────────
azzi has no reason to be back at the hotel.
she has practice soon. she’s supposed to be with her team. but something about the morning makes her feel restless—an itch she can’t scratch, a question she can’t answer.
she ends up in front of paige’s hotel room door, her hand poised to knock.
but before she can do anything, the door opens, and there’s paige—hair still damp from her shower.
azzi’s heart skips a beat. she doesn’t know why she’s here. she doesn’t even have a good reason for it. it’s just that this feels like the place she’s supposed to be.
“oh,” paige says, her voice startled. “i didn’t think i’d see you.”
azzi shrugs, playing it off. “just thought i’d stop by. no big deal.”
“right.” paige looks at her for a long moment, her gaze soft but unreadable. “are you sure you’re not just trying to make me lose my focus?”
azzi shrugs again, like it’s nothing. but something shifts between them, something unspoken and heavy. neither of them knows how to move past this, but neither of them wants to walk away either.
“i don’t know what you want from me, azzi,” paige finally says, her voice quieter now, like she’s afraid to speak louder and break whatever fragile hold they still have. “i never meant for any of this to get… so complicated.”
azzi’s eyes flicker, caught off guard by the raw honesty in paige’s voice. she’s not sure how to respond. what do you say when everything you’ve been holding in for so long suddenly threatens to pour out?
“i just thought…” azzi starts, her voice trailing off as she looks at paige, trying to find the right words. “i just thought we could pretend it didn’t happen.”
paige laughs softly, but there’s no humor in it. “i wish. i really do. but you can’t unfeel something like this.”
azzi steps into the room, the door clicking shut behind her. the air between them feels thick now, charged in a way that’s both terrifying and thrilling. she doesn’t know what she’s doing here, doesn’t know why she came, but she knows she doesn’t want to leave yet. not without saying something, anything, to ease the ache that’s settled in her chest.
“i didn’t come here to mess things up,” azzi says, a little too quickly. “i just… i just wanted to talk to you. to make sure you’re okay.”
paige stares at her for a long moment, like she’s trying to figure out if azzi’s telling the truth or just hiding behind words. finally, paige sighs, her shoulders sagging with a weariness azzi can feel in her own bones.
“i’m not okay,” paige admits quietly. “but i will be. i’ll figure it out.”
azzi watches her, heart aching. she takes a step forward, not sure what to say next, but she’s so close now that she can hear the unsteady rhythm of paige’s breath. she could kiss her again. she could lean in and make it all feel better, if only for a few seconds. but something tells her that would just make it worse.
“you can’t do this alone, you know,” azzi says, her voice soft but firm.
paige meets her gaze, and for a second, there’s a flicker of something—hope, maybe?—but it’s gone before azzi can name it.
“i know,” paige whispers. “but i have to figure it out on my own. i can’t keep pretending like everything’s fine when it’s not.”
azzi steps back, letting the silence fall between them again. she didn’t expect things to be easy, didn’t expect her to just open up and make it all okay. but she hadn’t expected this, either—the feeling of knowing the space between them is widening, and that there’s no easy way to bridge it.
for a moment, neither of them says anything.
“i should go,” azzi says finally, though her voice cracks a little.
paige doesn’t stop her, doesn’t say anything. she just watches her walk toward the door, her face unreadable.
when azzi reaches the door, she pauses, hand on the knob. “paige, whatever happens, don’t forget… i’m still here. even if you don’t want me to be.”
paige doesn’t respond. she just looks at her, and azzi can feel her heart breaking in the silence that stretches between them.
pov: paige
paige steps onto the uconn bus with a heavy heart, taking a seat by the window and staring out at the world as it blurs by. the morning still feels like a haze—azzi’s voice lingering in her mind, her smile, her words.
they’re gone now. she’s gone.
but the ache is still there.
as the bus rolls down the road, the last few hours replay in paige’s head: the kiss, the awkward breakfast, azzi standing in front of her hotel room, her soft admission that she wasn’t okay.
paige closes her eyes, trying to focus on something, anything, that isn’t the hole inside her chest where azzi used to be.
“i can’t keep doing this”, she thinks, but even as she tells herself that, she knows it’s not true. she’s already too far gone. and no matter how many times she tells herself to move on, to let it go, the feelings won’t fade. they never do.
she lets her phone buzz in her hand—another notification, another distraction. but when she looks at it, it’s just a text from ice:
you good?
paige doesn’t respond right away. she lets the silence fill her for a moment before tapping out a reply:
yeah, just thinking.
and she is. thinking about the kiss, about the unspoken words, about what it means to have something real slip through her fingers when she wasn’t ready to let it go.
paige stares out the window and lets the silence settle around her like armor.
there’s a text draft open on her phone.
i think i’ve always known it was you.
she doesn’t hit send.
but she doesn’t delete it either.
the bus ride back to the airport had been long, quiet, and almost suffocating. paige couldn’t stop replaying everything that had happened the night before, azzi’s words, the soft pressure of her lips—everything was too vivid, too sharp. it’s as if the whole world paused for a moment when they were together.
but then, in the quiet of the morning they said their goodbyes and azzi had left.
paige knows she has to focus. the team needs her. the game is over, but there’s still practice, still the road ahead, still the tournament. but right now, she doesn’t want to focus on any of it.
her phone buzzes, again,text from ice:
yo, did something happened? you seem a lil off.
paige sighs, her fingers hesitating over the keys before she replies:
just tired. we’ll talk later.
she’s not sure what to say. she can’t explain this thing with azzi, this thing that keeps eating at her, and she definitely can’t tell ice that she’s been up thinking about azzi. not without sounding like a mess.
she shoves the phone back into her bag and leans back against the window, trying to ignore the unsettling feeling crawling up her spine.
pov: azzi
azzi is late. she knows it. the rest of her team is already stretching, warming up, the air filled with the low hum of sneakers on hardwood and the sharp calls of coaches.
but azzi’s mind is elsewhere. she’s still tangled up in the early morning hours, the faint echo of paige’s voice ringing in her ears. she told herself she was fine, that she was going to move on, that this wasn’t going to disrupt her focus. but every step she takes toward the court, every drill she starts, the pull of her thoughts drags her back to that hotel room.
she hasn’t been able to shake the look in paige’s eyes when they said goodbye. she can’t pretend it wasn’t something more, something that meant more than it should.
that goodbye wasn’t enough for her, and azzi’s pretty sure it wasn’t enough for paige either.
the whistle blows, and azzi quickly snaps her focus back to the court. the next drill begins, but her body feels like it’s moving without her.
she catches a glimpse of bree, watching her from the corner of the court, and azzi wonders if she has noticed the shift in her energy. she’s been distant lately, quieter than usual. it’s hard to pretend everything is fine when it’s not.
aliyah boston calls out to her during a break. “hey, you good?”
azzi forces a smile, trying to brush it off. “yeah, just focused. lots on my mind.”
aliyah’s gaze is sharp, like she sees through the mask azzi is trying to wear. “whatever it is, we’ll get through it. you’re not in this alone.”
azzi nods, though the words don’t feel as reassuring as they should. she appreciates aliyah’s support, but there’s only so much that can be said. what she really wants to do is leave the gym, hop on a plane, and head to connecticut. to paige. her paige.
but she doesn’t. she stays, practices hard, and forces herself to focus.
──────────── ౨ৎ ────────────
paige is finally in her dorm and flops down on her bed, the midday light creeping through the curtains in soft beams. her mind is still spinning, filled with a mix of exhaustion and something else—something a little more dangerous. she hasn’t stopped thinking about azzi, and it’s not just because of what happened the night before. it’s everything. the way they’re connected without meaning to be, the way azzi makes her feel things she’s not supposed to feel.
the door to her room creaks open, and her teammate, nika, steps inside, wearing an expression of concern that paige knows too well.
“you okay?” nika asks, her voice low, almost like she’s already figured out what’s going on.
paige doesn’t know how to explain herself, doesn’t know how to tell her friend that she can’t stop thinking about someone she should never even care about. she just shrugs. “yeah, just a little tired. a lot of stuff on my mind.”
nika looks at her for a beat, her eyes narrowing slightly. “i saw the way you were acting at breakfast this morning. you’ve been off for a while now. what’s going on with you and fudd?”
paige tenses. she didn’t think anyone had noticed—but of course nika would.
“it’s nothing. seriously. just… stuff with the game,” paige lies, her words not coming out as smoothly as she hoped.
nika doesn’t buy it. “uh-huh. i don’t know what happened, but you two have been different. don’t let this mess with your focus. we need you, paige. you know that, right?”
paige nods, but even as she says, “i know,” the words feel hollow.
what if this thing with azzi does mess with her focus? what if it messes with everything? she’s supposed to be a leader, supposed to lead her team to victory, but how can she do that when she’s losing herself in thoughts of azzi?
“thanks, nika,” paige says quietly, before turning away from her teammate. nika doesn’t say anything else. she just nods and walks out, leaving paige alone with the thoughts she doesn’t know how to sort through.
──────────── ౨ৎ ────────────
azzi can’t concentrate.
she’s in her dorm, getting ready for the team meeting before they head out for the next game. but all she can think about is the way they left things. how this—all of it—is too much.
“you’re letting this get in your head”, she tells herself, pacing back and forth. focus.
but focus doesn’t come. it never does when she’s thinking about paige.
the room feels too small, the walls too close. she feels like she can’t breathe, like the weight of this whole situation is bearing down on her chest.
there’s a knock at the door, and azzi pauses. “come in,” she calls.
the door opens, and aliyah steps inside, a knowing look on her face. “you’re still thinking about her, huh?”
azzi sighs, sitting down on the bed. “i don’t know how to stop.”
“you don’t have to stop. but you need to stop letting it take over your game,” aliyah says, her voice firm but not unkind.
“i know,” azzi mutters, running a hand through her hair. “but what happens when the feelings don’t go away?”
aliyah sits beside her, crossing her arms. “i can’t answer that for you. but i know this: you’re stronger than this. don’t let paige bueckers, or whatever’s going on between you two, take away your power.”
azzi glances at her friend. aliyah’s right, of course. but it doesn’t make it easier.
pov: paige
paige finally admits it to herself. the feelings are too strong to ignore. no matter how much she tries to bury them, no matter how much she wants to tell herself this was a one-time thing, something’s shifted.
she opens her phone, staring at azzi’s name on the screen. should i text her?
the words come too easily.
hey, i’ve been thinking a lot. maybe we could talk?
she hesitates before pressing send. it’s reckless. but the moment it leaves her hands, paige knows she can’t take it back. she’s already in too deep.
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thank you for including me!!!
Bucky Barnes fics recommedation Part 2
To all the authors I've included: thank you for writing awesome fics, I admire your work with all my heart ❤️
⋙ Much ado about nothing series by @wienerbarnes
⋙ It's all fun games until you catch feelings series by @prettyyoungtragedy
⋙ A bid on Bucky by @samingtonwilson
⋙ The Apprentice by @chrisevansredbelt
⋙ Baby, it's bad out there by @intrepidacious
⋙ In every lifetime by @wkemeup
⋙ Where dreams go to die series by @insomniumstella
⋙ The last first kiss by @witchywithwhiskey
⋙ Stuck with you by @slyyywriting
⋙ Through his eyes by @sebbytrash
⋙ Is Someone Jealous? by @buckyslightsaber
⋙ Jealousy, Jealousy by @antiquarianfics
⋙ Promise Me series by @winterarmyy
⋙ Mend Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part 8 by @invisibleanonymousmonsters
⋙ Heritage series by @invisibleanonymousmonsters
⋙ Little Hints by @invisibleanonymousmonsters
⋙ Graveyard by @wkemeup
⋙ Sacrifice by @wkemeup
⋙ Whatever it takes series by @wienerbarnes
⋙ It's complicated by @prettyyoungtragedy
⋙ Stripped by @moonbeambucky
⋙ Keep it going by @writingcroissant
⋙ The Third Wheel by @writing-for-marvel
⋙ The Shot Heard Round the Tower by @pellucid-constellations
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off the court



warnings: none, just fluff
wc: 1.1k
nika mühl never missed a sunrise.
not because she was some overly romantic soul yearning for metaphorical new beginnings, but because it was the only time the world felt quiet enough to think.
she sat cross-legged on the balcony of their off-campus apartment, hoodie up, knees pulled to her chest, a mug of lukewarm coffee resting beside her. the city still yawned in sleepy shadows. her earbuds buzzed with low-tempo croatian music—something her sister had sent her for “mental balance.”
the door behind her creaked open.
“again?” came a groggy voice.
nika turned. y/n. always y/n.
hair messy from sleep, hoodie several sizes too big—nika’s, in fact—and socks mismatched as usual. she carried the scent of sleep and vanilla, and nika’s heart did that stupid skip-jump thing it had been doing a lot lately.
“couldn’t sleep,” nika muttered, tugging her hood down a little more. “too many plays running in my head.”
y/n smirked, the kind that showed up crooked and unbothered. “plays or people?”
nika gave a light snort. “you overthink everything.”
y/n walked over, not asking permission before dropping down beside her. “so do you.”
silence followed, comfortable but electric.
they had been roommates for just under a year, pulled together by housing lottery fate and the miracle of being equally tidy. y/n was pre-med, with a laugh that warmed a room and a quiet intensity that rivaled nika’s own fire on the court. nika had been drawn to her from the start—not just because y/n didn’t treat her like a minor celebrity, but because she listened. she noticed things. like how nika liked her eggs over medium, or how she always tied her shoes left first.
the problem wasn’t falling for y/n. that had happened fast, quietly, like slipping beneath warm water. the problem was staying there, stuck, unable to say a thing.
because y/n… well, y/n was y/n. and nika was scared.
practice that afternoon was brutal.
coach was in one of his moods. every missed screen, every lazy cut was punished with suicides. by the end, nika’s lungs were burning, her hair was plastered to her neck, and her calves screamed in protest.
“you okay?” paige asked, jogging over during water break.
“fine,” nika muttered, gulping down half her bottle.
“you’ve been in your head lately. everything good at home?”
she hesitated. “yeah. just tired.”
paige tilted her head. “roommate drama?”
nika’s silence must have said enough because paige’s brows shot up. “oh. oh.”
“what?” nika said quickly, too quickly.
“you like her.”
nika glanced away. “shut up.”
paige grinned. “no judgment. y/n’s hot.”
nika groaned, throwing her towel over her head. “i hate you.”
“you love me,” paige replied, slapping her back. “just… maybe tell her? she might like you back.”
“i’d rather run suicides for a week.”
“you just did.”
“exactly.”
y/n was sprawled on the couch when nika got back, glasses sliding down her nose, anatomy textbook open on her stomach. a highlighter was tucked behind one ear.
“you look like a nerd,” nika said, dropping her duffel by the door.
“you smell like a gym sock.”
“fair.”
nika collapsed into the armchair opposite her. her body felt like it was made of cement. but y/n’s smile—small and sleepy—made her forget the ache in her limbs.
“dinner?” y/n asked.
“you cooked?”
“microwaved. i made extra.”
nika grinned. “wife me up.”
y/n snorted. “in your dreams, müh.”
if only you knew, nika thought.
it became harder to hide.
they went grocery shopping together and argued about cereal brands like an old married couple. nika picked up y/n’s favorite tea when she saw it on sale. y/n started attending more games than she had time for. she even wore one of nika’s oversized jerseys once, claiming it was for laundry day, but nika caught her wearing it again a week later—no laundry excuse in sight.
their lives blended in quiet, easy ways. dinners on the couch. study sessions in the kitchen. late-night talks that blurred the lines between friendship and something softer, more dangerous.
one night, after a narrow win against stanford, the team celebrated at a campus party. y/n came—surprise of the year—and even wore something other than her usual hoodie rotation.
a black top that made nika forget how to talk.
“you clean up,” nika said, voice rougher than intended.
“so do you,” y/n replied, eyeing her uconn warmup jacket.
“shut up.”
y/n laughed and grabbed her hand, tugging her through the crowd. the music thumped, the air buzzed with sweat and beer and youth. nika wasn’t a dancer, but she let y/n sway into her space, close enough to smell citrus and sandalwood.
she wondered, for a wild second, what it would be like to kiss her. right there. in front of everyone.
instead, she let the moment pass.
it unraveled one rainy friday.
they had both bombed that day—y/n a quiz, nika a practice scrimmage. the air in the apartment was thick with mutual defeat. nika offered a movie. y/n countered with ice cream. they compromised by doing both.
halfway through the film, y/n turned down the volume and said, softly, “can i ask you something?”
nika froze. “sure.”
“have you… ever liked someone you weren’t supposed to?”
nika’s heart stopped. then stumbled.
“define ‘supposed to,’” she said carefully.
“like…” y/n paused, chewing her lip. “someone you live with. someone you could lose if you said the wrong thing.”
nika looked at her. really looked.
her knees were drawn up, hoodie sleeves covering her hands, eyes darting from nika’s face to the floor and back again.
nika swallowed. “yeah. i have.”
y/n’s breath hitched.
“so what did you do?”
“i didn’t tell her,” nika said, almost whispering. “because i was scared. still am.��
y/n leaned closer. “why?”
“because she matters too much.”
silence.
then: “tell her anyway.”
nika blinked. “y/n—”
y/n reached out, fingers brushing hers.
“i think i like my roommate too,” she said, voice trembling slightly. “and i think i’ve been waiting for her to say something first.”
nika stared.
then laughed—just once, short and stunned—and surged forward.
their lips met in the middle of the couch, in the quiet between two heartbeats. it wasn’t perfect—teeth bumped, and someone’s knee hit the popcorn bowl—but it didn’t matter.
y/n kissed like she studied: intently, thoughtfully, with focus and curiosity. nika kissed like she played: fiercely, passionately, all in.
when they finally pulled back, y/n rested her forehead against nika’s.
“so,” she whispered.
“so,” nika echoed, grinning.
“you’re not dreaming, are you?”
“i hope not. because you’re wearing my hoodie and i’d like to kiss you again.”
y/n giggled. “that’s fair.”
the next morning, nika didn’t go out to watch the sunrise.
instead, she stayed curled in bed, y/n pressed against her side, the world finally quiet in a different kind of way.
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