wbbgetsmewetter

[wbbgetsmewetter]

PARTY 4 U

SYNOPSIS: i was hoping you would come through, i only threw this party 4 u

NOTES: wrote this on a whim right after the draft and was too scared to post it at the time and also took a break from tumblr. but HEYYY look i am back 😛

WARNINGS: rejection?, unrequited love

“no! no, that needs to be on the other side of the room,” you ordered the crowd, already feeling the weight of frustration settling in as you realised you were technically running late.

you had sacrificed the chance to be with paige as she got drafted, prioritizing her draft party above all else. yet, here you were, stuck in the eye of a chaotic storm. the decorators you hired seemed utterly lost, the caterers were chronically late, the lighting remained stubbornly dim, and the dj was spinning tracks that felt entirely out of place. as one of the servers passed by with a tray full of tequila shots, you seized two, knowing that if you didn’t relax in the next five minutes, you might just implode.

those two shots quickly multiplied, and you lost count after seven. while the tequila may have been a temporary relief, the venue was finally beginning to take shape. the energy started to shift as the music syncopated with the burgeoning excitement around you. then, a voice cut through the chatter, announcing that the draft was about to begin. everyone clustered around the projector, brimming with anticipation for cathy to deliver the news we all already knew.

“with the first round pick in the 2025 wnba draft, the dallas wings select: paige bueckers, university of connecticut.”

the crowd erupted into a cacophony of cheers, people jumping up and down, embracing one another. you stood frozen, tears welling in your eyes, as the camera followed paige’s every move. the first person she hugged was azzi, and you couldn’t shake the pang of longing—you wished that was you. stephanie, the event coordinator, broke your spell by enveloping you in a tight hug, her enthusiasm ringing in your ear. you managed a smile before quickly excusing yourself to the bathroom.

locking the door behind you, you leaned against it, chest heaving as emotions surged. a scream erupted from deep within you, fueled by the overwhelming sense of disappointment. you were supposed to be there, right alongside her—supporting her every step, not organizing this chaotic event filled with people who barely listened to you. your hair was a tangled mess, your makeup nonexistent, and let’s not even get started on your outfit, which resembled pajamas more than anything party-worthy.

you had no idea how much time slipped away while you cried in that bathroom, completely losing track of everything until stephanie's concerned knocking broke through your haze. you hastily wiped away your tears, attempting to restore some semblance of composure before finally opening the door with a facade of a bright smile.

an hour passed in a blur, and the final touches of the setup were underway. you stood back, admiring the fruits of your labor, hoping paige would appreciate your vision as much as you did. stephanie sidled up next to you, her face aglow with excitement. “doesn’t it just look amazing?” she gushed. you nodded in silence, captivated by your handiwork.

“shouldn’t you... go get ready?” she suggested, her gaze shifting toward the clock. “paige is doing pressers right now and could be here any minute.”

your heart sank at her words; you had completely lost track of time. only an hour and a half left to dash to the hotel, get ready, and return before the guest of honor arrived.

you rushed out of the room, frantically dialing the designated driver for the week. the ride to the hotel felt agonizingly long as you remained on the phone with brittany, hoping she had set aside your outfit and that people were still available to work on your hair and makeup.

when the seemingly endless ride finally came to a halt as the driver pulled up to the hotel entrance, you rushed out, grabbing your belongings with urgency, making sure you had your phone and key card at the ready. standing impatiently in front of the elevator, the only thought racing through your mind was how you were going to juggle hair, makeup, and wardrobe simultaneously while still leaving the room looking absolutely stunning.

once you stepped into the hotel room, chaos greeted you. dresses lay strewn across the floor, accessories cluttered every available surface, and polaroids were scattered across the bed. most of the photos featured paige and azzi, with a few others including their teammates. a wave of jealousy washed over you as you picked up one of the pictures; it captured an intimate moment between them, their hands tangled together in a way that felt far too familiar.

“great! you’re here! what are you doing just standing there? come on, we don’t have much time!” the makeup artist called out from the bathroom, snapping you out of your daze. you stumbled your way across the room, tripping over the mess in your path.

after what felt like an eternity, you were finally ready. your outfit was a dazzling blend of what both paige and azzi had chosen—a fitted white mini dress adorned with shimmering rhinestones and a plunging neckline that highlighted your features. your hair was pulled back into a sleek ponytail, giving you a polished appearance. a deep sigh of relief escaped your lips as you took in your reflection, feeling a surge of confidence. the bedazzled watch on your wrist sparkled as you glanced at the time, only to be interrupted by a notification on your phone. it was brittany, asking where you were; everyone was already at the draft party, and you were missing in action.

panic quickly set in again as you fumbled to secure your strappy heels while making your way out the door, racing down to the lobby and then back downstairs.

luckily, this time the car was waiting for you instead of the other way around. just when you thought things were finally going your way, traffic hit like a wall, leaving you stuck in the never-ending congestion of new york while your friends reveled in the festivities you had painstakingly planned.

helplessly, you sat in the car, scrolling through everyone’s instagram and snapchat stories from the event. azzi had sent you a couple of messages, including voice notes filled with concern for your whereabouts. that made you feel even worse; you had spent the entire day harboring resentment toward her, all while she genuinely wished for you to be beside her and the others, celebrating paige’s momentous achievement.

tears began to well in your eyes, so you set your phone aside and focused on the ceiling of the car, hoping your eyes would absorb the excess moisture. after what felt like an eternity, the cadillac finally pulled into the parking lot of the venue you had rented out for the evening. yet excitement eluded you; this day had only left a trail of disappointments in its wake. still, you managed to muster a smile, determined to put on a brave face.

you finally made it inside, the music blasting through the speakers a physical force propelling people into a frenzy of bouncing bodies. you desperately scanned the crowd, searching for paige. the last time you'd seen her was this morning, when the world had barely started turning and neither of you were functioning properly. but she was nowhere to be found.

after a while, you gave up the search and decided to surrender. letting yourself go, you joined kk, ice, and morgan on the dance floor. their moves were a chaotic blur of energy, a reckless dance-off you knew would result in cringe-worthy social media posts tomorrow morning. but that was a concern for hangover you; tonight you were going to let loose. more shots kept coming, and at some point you had settled into a booth, your usual type A, responsible personality had vanished as you giggled at every word you heard. soon, the shots and cocktails caught up to you, and you felt the urge to pee. you excused yourself to the bathroom.

as you carefully studied your steps, hoping not to trip and faceplant, you spotted her. or rather, them. paige and azzi were snuggled up in a corner, their hands all over each other. they too had blurred out the crowd the couple seemingly in their own world. 

your heart skipped a beat as you stood frozen, the noise of the prty fading into a hollow echo. 

paige’s laughter rang out, bright and infectious as azzi whispered something into her ear. the way they leaned into each other, sharing secrets and inside jokes, made the jealousy rise like a bitter tide in your throat. you felt the familiar ache of longing, overwhelmed by the knowledge that you were just a spectator to their little bubble. 

you blinked back the sting in your eyes, forcing a breath past the lump lodged in your throat. everything inside you screamed to look away, to retreat into the safety of ignorance. but your body betrayed you, keeping you rooted in place, caught in the rawness of it all.

the change in songs snapped you out of your daze. 

this wasn’t how it was supposed to go. 

you threw this party for her. 

the heavy bass melted into a glittering, synthy beat as the next song bled through the speakers.

“only threw this party for you…”

your head snapped to the dj booth instinctively, recognizing the opening notes of party 4 u — the very song you had requested weeks ago for this exact moment. it was supposed to play when paige arrived, when you would have wrapped her up in a hug and whispered congratulations into her ear, hearts beating in tandem under the soft pulse of the lights.

instead, you stood alone at the edge of the dance floor, clutching your drink like a lifeline, your heart aching so loudly it drowned out the music.

“i was hopin' you'd come through…”

your body swayed, but it wasn't dancing — it was the tequila, the exhaustion, the sheer weight of the night tilting the room. you laughed bitterly under your breath, blinking up at the strobe lights like they might burn the sadness right out of you.

around you, the crowd twisted and spun in slow motion, their faces blurring into streaks of neon and glitter.

“i just wanted you to show up…”

your vision snagged on a familiar blonde head weaving through the bodies. paige.

she was searching. eyes darting, scanning — frantic in a way you hadn’t expected.

for a second, your heart lifted, naive and desperate. but then you saw azzi trailing behind her, hand brushing lightly at the small of her back, guiding her through the crowd.

whatever fragile hope you had splintered in two.

you turned before she could spot you, slipping past a group of people taking selfies, ignoring the way your head spun from the sudden movement. you pushed open the door to the balcony, gulping down the cold, crisp air like it might erase the taste of regret on your tongue.

the night outside was quieter, but not enough to drown out the music seeping through the walls. you leaned heavily against the railing, head bowed, letting the tears drip onto your dress, unnoticed under the low, purple glow of the city lights.

inside, party 4 u played on, the beat shimmering like shattered glass.

and for the first time that night, you allowed yourself to admit it: this party wasn’t really for paige. it was for you. for the part of you that still believed there was an us to celebrate.

k. bye - tini

[wbbgetsmewetter]

Lena what is this 😭😭 i need all parts STAT!

AMERICAN WEDDING 001. THE WIN you’ll probably leave later anyways, that’s love made in the usa. pairing paige bueckers x black!oc ( kayden kennedy ) warnings 3.7k words, flashback, brief mentions of homophobia lena talks chapter one finally here! enjoy, more coming soon xx

present day april 2025

When Kayden Kennedy was nine, she sat on her fathers lap on a plane ride to Kolkata. She looked over the water, wondering to herself why there was so much ocean. A year later, it was Baghdad, then Istanbul. She couldn’t remember a solid second where she wasn’t moving— where she wasn’t running off and following her father on the journey of his career.

It’s where she grew her love for history.

The large statues, the Seven Wonders of The World, the history. Many would see these places and be star-struck, amazed by the beauty in front of them. But Kayden was different, she was delighted by the how. How did these people get here, how were they brought up, how did they believe that this— this pyramid or this ancient pot— was a symbol of their culture. As she grew older it developed into why they were colonized. And then as she really learned the meaning of the word war, why did these people fight back. Or even, why did they give up.

The rich history of the world interested her always. Like this morning. 

She had woken up at six. The gym waited for her at seven-thirty, where she very attentively listened to an NPR podcast about the tragedies in Gaza. When she got home—nine-thirty on the dot— she changed, showered, ate her breakfast of toast and avocado and sausage while reading The Women by Kristen Hannah. 

By 11 she was cleaning the kitchen and at one she was seated on her couch, laptop open as she began to grade the last of her student’s fourth quarter projects: The Mexican-American War.

Kayden would like to think it wasn’t on purpose, how her job seemingly found its way into every aspect of her life when she wasn’t even trying. But then again, she sought out the knowledge. She wanted to grow her brain, fill it with as much information as she could until she was like a human encyclopedia. Which in all honesty she was, thanks to her eidetic memory.

But something about knowing everything and yet still knowing nothing at all excited her, as nerdy as it seemed. It allowed her to imagine another universe where things changed, where lives could be different.

Like how maybe, in another life, she’s watching her ex girlfriend play in person, and not on the comfort of her couch.

In a strange turn of events, the once persistent and completely attentive Kayden was distracted by something greater. Something heavier that weighed on her moral scale. Something she couldn’t quite name, but could feel on her chest. Almost like a boulder.

Kayden pushed buttons, almost like a second nature. 

Guide. Channels. ABC. 2025 NCAA Women’s tournament championship game.

Kayden had watched here and there. The burn of the bold UCONN letters ate her alive from time to time. She should’ve been there. In the stands cheering or in the library helping Paige study. That was the plan. Their plan. 

There were times when she let her mind wonder. To how Paige was doing, or if she’d thought about her as much as Kayden tended to think about her. When Paige got injured sophomore year, Kayden had hurt a bit. And when she tore her ACL she wanted to wrap Paige in her arms like when they were young and just tell her that it would be okay. 

She’d never say it out loud, though.

Kayden watched the whole game. Not missing a second. She felt like a high school student again, forced between a sweaty guy who didn’t care and a sweatier one who cared way too much. 

She saved face. Never faltering with a smile or a loud cheer. More for herself than anyone else (as she was alone in her apartment).

A Google Slides presentation is open on the coffee table in front of her, red pen balanced on top, forgotten. Because this, this is way more important. Even if she promised for these grades to be finalized by the start of class tomorrow. Paige, who’s having just a bit of an off shooting game, is playing in a game that could define the rest of her career and that just just occupies a larger place in her brain than James Polk and Ulysses S. Grant. 

So Kayden curled up on the couch in an oversized hoodie, her glasses slipping a little down her nose. A bottle of water sweats on the side table. And the game should make her sweat too but she couldn’t. Not even close.

By the start of the fourth quarter– the one of the game she’s been pretending not to watch, but has been glued to for the last hour– the Huskies are leading by 22. Paige’s teammates are killing it. A Sarah Strong layup here, an Azzi Fudd three there (which she does cheer for because she remembers talking to the girl about this dream in hotel room in 2018).

And then she hears the broadcast loud and clear. “Bueckers back door… puts it in! Plus the foul! It’s raining blue in Tampa.” Kayden’s eyes snap to the screen. Her breath catches.

Not because of her name, or even the fact that she just contorted her body and got the bucket. 

But the weight of this, the impending win. The fact that the woman she’d once married, is about to have her dreams come true all these years later, just makes Kayden’s heart swell a bit more. Beat a bit faster. 

The screen flashes in slow motion: celebrating fans, screaming teammates, Paige on the floor with a grin that hasn’t changed in five years. Kayden doesn’t smile. She exhales like she’s been holding that breath since the day she walked out.

flashback july 2019

My hands fumble with my phone, simultaneously trying to slip my feet into the confines of my black Doc Martens. My socks stick out loosely, white, frills on the edges. Just enough innocence to really make the moment. 

pb 🪼 I’m down the street Hurry before your mom starts asking questions

At that, I scramble. Pen, check. Change of clothes, check. Proper lie shoved into my back pocket, double check. I brush over my skirt, tugging down the hem of my tight white shirt in an attempt to cover the tiny stick and poke tattoo that came from drunk dares and an adventurous summer evening with Paige and Jalen.

k 🔐 coming!

I shove open my bedroom door, shoes heavy against the hardwood floor. The summer sun spills in against the grain, soft breeze blowing through the curtains. It’s beautiful, which only makes me speed up to get outside to an impossibly more beautiful girl. The kitchen smells like burnt coffee and lemon-scented cleaner, which makes me all the more excited to get out into the real world outside of this house.

“Where you headed?” 

My mom Marianne’s voice cuts in through the hum of the kitchen. She sits on the couch, legs outstretched with reading glasses perched on her nose and a book resting in her lap. She doesn’t look up, her voice doesn’t even have its usual lilt to it. And I know I’m in the clear.

“The Lake. Then Lauren’s house.” I lie, only partially though, because going to Paige’s cousin’s house after was part of our well thought out plan.

She hums, eyes glued to the book. “You sure that’s a good idea? I heard it was supposed to rain.” That’s code for Marianne Kennedy doesn’t want her daughter to go out at all. She’d rather I stay home where she can monitor me.

My voice trembles in the way that it does when I know I’m about to lie to her. “It’s fine. Paige is picking me up. She thinks we can beat it.” I shrug like it’s no big deal.

“Boys gonna be there?” She asks.

Her voice is filled with something else, and I know exactly what she means. She’s really asking if I'm hanging out with the only girl my age that the entire neighborhood knows is gay, or can she feel comfortable knowing that I’ll talk to a boy here and there. But she’d never say that outright, no, because my mother has an image to uphold. So she’ll ask it like that, and then throw a diss in a few seconds. 

You know, the usual lowkey homophobia.

“Yeah. Jalen and Chet are going, and some other guys in my homeroom too.” I continue. It’s the half truth. There might be boys somewhere, though I’m hoping to get married and dip before they get there. I’m not that interested in sticking around long enough to find out. My eyes dart out the window, seeing the blonde’s beat up red Cadillac sit parked against the sidewalk. 

Mom hums again, thoughtfully this time. Like she herself is thinking about whether or not she believes me or not. “Not that I’m worried about boys, with Paige around.” There it is, that diss I could feel coming like a spidey-sense of mine. I was a superhero, fighting off homophobia one mom at a time. “That girl’s always been… a little wild, no?”

Her words make me flinch and I get defensive fast. Like mom is a girl at school throwing darts and looking to hurt the one person who seems to understand me better than I try to understand myself.

“She’s just not fake.” I say.

I watch my mom put the book face down in her lap, interlocking her fingers to look at me. She’s so blinded by hate that she can’t even notice my choice of attire is ill-fitting for the lake. “There’s a difference between being real and being lost, Kayden.” 

“Ma, I—”

“You’re not like her. I raised you better than that.” She raises an eyebrow. Using that damn code language of hers to say check yourself.

My stomach knots. I shift my bag higher onto my shoulder, needing to move, needing to get out of here before I let her words break me and I crack. Paige is outside with a wedding license in hand and I’m here listening to my mother call her all the underlying homophobic names in the book.

I get quiet. “We’re just friends. I have to go.”

“Good.” Mom nods, flipping the book back around. “You’re a good girl. Don’t let anyone confuse you about that.” She says and I dart for the door handle. I grab my house keys from the hook, bidding her a goodbye like she didn’t just stab me and twist the knife.

The car ride was silent—talking wise. Lil Baby blasts from the speaker and the wind rushes in and out of the car so fast I feel like I’m free flying through the air.

Paige sat next to me, her hand occasionally brushing against my knee as if she wanted to see if I was still there. If I was still in it. I was. Who was I kidding? It’s the girl of my dreams sitting next to me with the brightest light in her blue eyes and the biggest smile, probably bigger than the one she shot me after winning state this year. 

She’s calm, like this isn’t the craziest idea in the world. Which in turn makes me calm, makes me throw everything that happened with my mom an hour ago out the window.

But now, sunlight flashes across the tile and I stand awkwardly against the wall. A courtroom clerk in front of me. The room is smaller than I thought it would be. Which is crazy considering the biggest event of my young 17 year old life is taking place here. 

She notices, she always does. Her keys hang from the pocket of her shorts. The marriage license folded clean in half on the other hand. 

“You sure about this?” Paige asks, her back pressing against the wall, shoulder snug against mine. She’s warm with the kind of heat that feels like she could set me on fire. 

I huff. “We’ve already driven this far. Lied to our parents.” The series of events bats around in my head. Then I look over to her, as calm as could be. Honestly, I don’t remember the last time Paige let me see her be even just a bit nervous. She’s always walking around with that attitude and confidence that made it seem like the world was hers.

She stares straight ahead, branding the courtroom into her brain. “Baby, I don’t wanna… force you into anything. If you wanna go home, tell me. We can get ice cream on the way back or something.” Paige rations trying to help me make sense of it all. It makes me laugh when I think about the cliche; I help her make sense of the real textbook stuff and she helps me when it comes to all the other impulsive things.

“Then we’d have to tell people we just talked about it. This is way more dramatic.” I joke, peering up at the 6’0 athlete with wide eyes and a grin. “I want to do this. Especially with you.” I admit. The clerk digs his eyes at the both of us. I can assume he’s thinking of how much he’s not getting paid enough to entertain two 17 year old girls with a marriage license.

I grab her hand, dragging us to the clerk. Adrenaline runs through my veins like a fire. Paige slides the sheet over the counter, and he looks over it all disinterested but prepared to let us go through with it anyway. 

“Sign here.” He orders, flipping the sheet over like it means nothing. 

I look up at my girlfriend, suddenly realizing that after this I get to call Paige Bueckers my wife. I’ll slide a cheap thrifted ring on her finger and then go to college with her in a year from now. It’s all going to happen the way we planned it. 

So I reach into my bag for the black pen I had brought from my stationary. My hand trembles slightly, everyday handwriting coming in a bit rough as the weight of it settles in my chest like something permanent. Then I hand it to Paige, who’s full of no nerves and a simple confidence to her. 

She takes it before looking down at me. “You sure you’re not gonna chicken out?” Paige had asked, half-grinning, half-terrified— but she’d never let me know that.

I squeezed her hand, grinning back. “I want to be yours.” I didn’t say forever — we didn’t talk about the future much. It was too scary. Too far away. Too… uncertain. Especially with a meddling mom and a girl who might love basketball more than her gir—wife.

The clerk speaks again in his low monotone. “By the authority vested in me by the state of Minnesota, I pronounce you wife and wife.” He stamps the sheet lazily, handing it over to Paige again and right then it hits me like a blow. I was really married.

To her.

And then she kisses me, slow and breathless, like she’s never done it before. She didn’t care about the eyes, and the feeling of her hands on my cheeks stopped me from caring either. My nose brushes against hers as Paige pulls back first, forehead pressed to mine.

“I—I have um. This.” I hold the ring box in my hand, square and suede. It’s a bit dirty from years of it belonging to someone else. But, I don’t care. The box cracks open under my pressure, the dull silver still gleaming in the light. “I figured rings make this, y’know. Official.” I stutter, sliding the ring onto Paige’s finger without hesitation.

“You’re really doing this with me?” Paige asks, her voice so small it almost broke my heart if she wasn’t so perfect.

I nodded. “Always.” 

“Good. Because I got you one too. It’s in the car.”

Later, after she put a pandora ring that she’d spent all her summer savings on, on my finger. We drove like nothing happened. Like we didn’t just make a lifelong commitment. Like my mom wasn’t at home praying that the reality of sin didn’t brush onto me from her. 

We split cash on Ice cream, her dad sent her some money for gas. Everything was perfect. Even the cicadas that screamed in our ears as Paige drove down the straight road. 

Lauren’s house came into view over the hills. The neighborhood was empty enough for us to pull in unnoticed. So Paige parks at the field a block behind the house, climbing into the trunk of the car and pushing the seats back to watch the stars come out. 

It’s where we sit now.

She manipulates her long legs so she fits perfectly. I fit into the curve of her body, my skirt occasionally brushing up in the late night breeze. Paige’s fingers trace lazy shapes over my shoulder.

The stars are bright tonight, twinkling like precious diamonds in rubble. I look over my shoulder at Paige, at how you can see the occasional gleam across her irises.

“Paige?” 

She blinks languidly, the deep brown of her lashes brush over the apples of her cheeks. Dusting them like a thousand little paint brushes. 

“Yeah, baby?” She responds. Voice as deep as a teenage girl could really have. It’s sultry, but full of that kind of love and energy I’ve been subjected to since we were younger.

“You think we’re gonna regret it?” I ask, half-asleep, voice thick with warmth.

Paige had smiled into my skin. “Maybe. Probably. Who cares? At least I’m doin’ it with you, right?” She hums. 

And then, as if nothing else in the world exists, she kisses me again. Softer. Quicker. For the hundredth time today. I smile, against her lips, laughter spilling between us like a river flow. 

Young. Dumb. Untouchable. And for a while, it felt like the whole world really did belong to us and no one else.

present day april 2025

Kayden’s chest ached with the memory of the past and the imagination of a different one too.

Her laptop had been pushed off to the side alongside stacks of rubrics, messily marked and written on—she'd been prepared to be completely focused, but she wasn’t ready for how long it would really take.

Or how easily she would get distracted.

The channel had only been changed once from ABC to SportsCenter. She sat frozen on her couch, the championship celebration playing out in front of her. Without her.

Paige was in the middle of it all — standing on the black platform, hat on her head and shirt hugging her damp and sweaty arms. The confetti stuck to her hair and skin, glittering like stars against her blonde. She was beaming, electric, so full of life that Kayden felt her own chest hollow out just watching her.

Kayden should have looked away. Should have turned the TV off and finished grading papers like a normal person who didn’t still orbit around a girl she hadn’t touched in five years. Oh but no. She stayed.

She watched as Paige ducked into a hug with her coach as emotional as she’s ever seen her, doing the same with every assistant, every trainer, every teammate. Paige beelined straight for the sidelines, arms open for the family members swarming the court.

Kayden watched, and a stupid, heavy ache twisted low in her stomach.

She couldn’t explain it. Couldn’t explain why she still felt this way — tethered, glued to Paige’s happiness like it had anything to do with her anymore. Which it didn’t. Paige had outgrown the small-town dreams they’d once whispered to each other in the dark. She had built a life bigger and better than anything they ever dared to plan. By the looks of it, she also had someone else to celebrate it with. Azzi. By her side, and grinning the whole time as Paige celebrated a little too hard for national television.

Kayden should have been nothing more than a footnote. A “remember when” if she even crossed Paige’s mind at all.

But sitting there in the flickering blue light, watching Paige take the mic for the post-game interview, Kayden knew the truth she’d never managed to choke down: she really really missed her.

Not all the time, not like an open wound anymore — but here and there, in the quiet spaces. In the slow Sunday mornings and empty passenger seats and songs on the radio that pulled her back without warning. Kayden missed Paige a year ago when she was moving to Dallas, emptying her college apartment, and seeing the ring in the same box it was given to her five years ago. 

She missed her when she saw two girls holding hands without fear. When she heard laughter in the breeze that sounded like the kind they used to share.

But more than anything she missed Paige now. Worse than she had in a long time.

On screen, Paige was laughing through tears, her voice still a little hoarse from shouting and ungodly amounts of celebration, when the reporter asked what she’d tell her younger self. Kayden leaned in without thinking, like the answer mattered more than it should.

“I’d tell her to hold on,” Paige said, smiling. “And trust that even the stupid stuff or the little things might matter more than she thinks.” The words that were simple, obvious even, landed like a punch straight to Kayden’s ribs.

She shut the TV off mid-response, plunging the room into thick, echoing silence.

Kayden stayed there for a long time, staring into the blank screen, the ghost of Paige’s smile burned into her mind.

Still married, a small voice inside her said.

Still hers, if she wanted to be.

Kayden buried her face in her hands, realizing that no matter what; that wasn’t her life anymore. It couldn’t be. And it was no one’s fault but her own. Maybe if she wasn’t so listening, so scared, so uniquely Kayden Kennedy. 

And yet, somewhere deep inside he — in the parts she’d spent five years trying to bury— she wondered if Paige had ever missed her too.

🔖 @thaatdigitaldiary @bueckersbitch @pboogerswbb @xxloveralways14 @ykylalex @ohmybueckers @avvwritesstufff @flipthepaige @cherryswisherz @lupinqs @vamptizm @bueckers555 @omg-imtumbling @courtsidewithlani @mariahthealchemist @authentic-girl03 @kissamiyahh @rebecca-woso @angryflowerwitch @rhianthebest @paigebaby5 @rishofkf @xoxosierralane @urantisocialgay @issilovesherself @your-local-bi-panic @nicebellee @elalfywhore @cowboybueckers

[wbbgetsmewetter]

baby im sat. i will be here for every single part

JADED. PROLOGUE. | ⌗ 1.7K WORDS. | JADED MASTERLIST.

╰ summary. this is the angsty, roller coaster of the lives of sareli vasquez and paige bueckers, from hookups, to more—to less. it was hard balancing basketball and getting pussy, but with sareli—paige wanted more. but how could she say it… without saying it? will all these unspoken words eventually be said? or will they be kept away until one of them finally breaks?

➺ content warnings. wnba!paige, woc!oc, depictions of sex, arguing, angst, uconn flashbacks (im crying), toxic!oc, toxic!paige, alcohol consumption, third person pov, some spanish dialogue.

➺ from ke, to you. hello you awwwllll <333, i really outdid myself when it came to making this series overview, and i hope you all enjoy this series as much as possible. i’m so glad to be incorporating some spanish into this, ( reminds me of my twin @uwupaige — go check out “the nanny” btw tyvm ), and maybe it’ll help you guys learn something new! it’s not much, but it helps embrace the comfort of speaking the language. enjoy babies! i’ll try to pace myself! also my first time doing all third person, fingas crossed.

The Valdosta sun hung low, painting the sky in shades of burnt orange, as Sareli sat on the steps of her mother's porch, a glass of iced tea sweating in her hand. At twenty-four, she carried the weight of two years of silence, two years of running from the ghost of Paige Bueckers.

Her phone sat beside her, screen dark, but the memory of a drunken voicemail from three months ago burned in her mind—a slurred, messy confession from Paige that had cracked open a wound Sareli thought had healed. She hadn't called back.

Not yet.

Sareli's curls were pulled into a loose bun, her tank top clinging to her skin in the Georgia humidity. She'd come back to Valdosta after her father's death, needing the anchor of her mother's presence, the familiar streets of her childhood. But even here, Paige lingered—in the songs on the radio, in the Dallas Wings posts Sareli couldn't stop scrolling through, in the quiet moments when her heart betrayed her with longing.

Inside, the clatter of pots and the scent of sage drifted through the screen door. Sareli's mother, Carmen, was cooking, as always, her way of filling the house with love.

Sareli stood, brushing off her shorts, and stepped inside.

"Ma, ¿qué estás haciendo? Smells like you're feeding the whole neighborhood,” Sareli called, leaning against the kitchen counter.

Carmen glanced up from the stove, her eyes sharp, but warm. "Arroz con habichuelas, mija. And don’t tell me you’re not hungry, because I know you." She stirred the pot, then fixed Sareli with a look. "¿Qué pasa? You've been quiet all day."

Sareli shrugged, avoiding her mother's gaze. "Nada, Mama. I’m just thinking."

"About her, right?" Carmen said, her voice soft but pointed. "La muchacha que te tiene así, toda perdida." (the girl who has you like this, all lost.)

Sareli's jaw tightened. "No estoy perdida. I'm fine."

Carmen snorted, setting the spoon down. "Mija, por favor. I know you. That girl calls you drunk, says she misses you, and you're still sitting here pretending it's nothing?

¿Cuándo vas a enfrentar esto?" (when are you going to face this?)

Sareli's throat burned. She wanted to argue, to say she'd moved on, but the truth was heavier than she could carry alone. "No sé, Ma," she admitted, her voice small. "I don't know how to deal with her. With us."

Carmen crossed the kitchen, placing a hand on Sareli's cheek. "Escúchame, Sareli. You can't keep hiding. Si la quieres, talk to her. If not, let her go. But this? This is eating you alive."

Sareli nodded, tears pricking her eyes. "Lo sé. I just... I need time."

"Time doesn't fix everything," Carmen said, squeezing her shoulder. "La verdad, does." (the truth.)

STORRS, LATE 2024

The air in Paige’s apartment was thick with nothing but tension, the kind that had become their default. Sareli stood by the window, arms crossed, staring at the city lights as Paige sprawled on the couch, a blunt burning in the ashtray. The silence between them was louder than the music still playing low from Paige’s speakers.

"You gon’ keep ignorin' me all night?" Paige said, her voice sharp. "What's your deal, Sare?"

Sareli turned, her accent thick with frustration. "My deal? You're the one who acts like l'm just some bitch you fuck when you're bored. I'm not your fuck buddy, Paige."

Paige sat up, her blonde hair that was tucked behind her ear, now on her chest as she leaned forward.

"Here we go again. You always twistin' shit. I never said you was just a fuck, but you keep actin' like I'm supposed to be your whole world."

"Maybe because I wanted you to be!" Sareli snapped, her voice breaking. "But all we do is this—sex, fights, and nothing else. I'm tired, Paige. I can't keep the fuck up."

Paige’s eyes flashed, but her voice softened, just for a moment. "Then why you still here, huh? If I'm so fuckin' bad for you, why you ain't gone yet?"

Sareli's chest ached, the truth cutting deeper than she wanted to admit. She loved Paige—loved her confidence, her laugh, the way she could make Sareli feel alive. But love wasn't enough when every touch was a distraction, every fight a reminder of what they couldn't say.

"I'm done," Sareli said, grabbing her bag. "I can't do this shit anymore."

Paige didn't stop her, didn't call after her as Sareli stormed out, the door slamming shut on their fractured world.

DALLAS, 2026

Paige stumbled through the house party, the room spinning from too many shots of Tito’s. The music was loud, the air thick with smoke and laughter, but all she could think about was Sareli. Two years, and that girl still lived in her head, her heart, her bones.

She fumbled with her phone, ignoring Verena, the girl she hooked up with on an off season, trying to pull her back to the dance floor.

“P… would you stop ditching me?” Verena says, the vodka on her breath loud, and her voice demanding, as she pulls on Paige’s arm.

"I'm good, yo," Paige slurred, slipping into a quieter corner. Her thumb found Sareli's number, the one she hadn't deleted, couldn't delete. “Can you gimmie a second? Jesus. Always on my back, Rena.”

Verena stepped back, rolling her eyes as she walked back to her group of friends near the bar.

*Hi, you’ve reached Sareli! I can’t get to the phone right now, but please leave a voicemail at the tone for me!*

Her accent was all it took for Paige to fold. The call went to voicemail, and Paige’s voice cracked as she spoke. "Sare... fuck, I miss you. I know I fucked up, aight? I know I did. But I can't... I can't stop thinkin' 'bout you. I love you, man. I always did. Just... call me back, please."

She hung up, her head dropping into her hands, the weight of her words sinking in too late. She didn't expect a response. She didn't deserve one.

Paige wanted a do over, a real one.

There were things Paige never got to say.

╰ ⌗ tags : @pboogerswbb @cherryswisherz @mariahthealchemist @sierrale8ne @janaelalfysblunt @bueckersbitch @lovegalor333 @juspeaks @flipthepaige @omg-imtumbling @xxloveralways14 @mrsarnold @wbbgetsmewetter @lupinqs @linebg0 @authentic-girl03 @melpthatsme @makethemhoesmad @ashortyluvsports @paigesbabygirl @d3arapril @slut4uconnwbb @avvwritesstufff @xoxosierralane @vamptizm @pb524830 @uwupaige @naeswrrldd @paigebaby5 @ohmybueckers @azziswrld @noisygemini777 @angryflowerwitch @everyonewatchesuconnwbb @jieysiee

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the way i screamed and threw my phone

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yes. yes. yes. YES

ALL NIGHT. 3.8K WORDS. // paige bueckers. cw : fem!reader, fluff, alcohol consumption, oral, fingering, scissoring. // “with every tear, came redemption.” // beyonce.

summary. // after winning a national championship, all paige could think about was how proud you were.

ke speaks 🗣️. // it’s been a minute you guys. lemme just express how proud i am of this team, and this fandom i’ve been welcomed to🥹. not only have i met my girlfriend, some of of my bestest friends, and so many amazing people, ive grown to love writing and becoming a community. love you guys, and also thank you for 1.4k followers ❤️

You were there for it all. The ups, the downs, the highs—the lows.

But it was all worth it for the moment you saw her face in the crowd, the smile worth millions beaming on the big screen.

The roar of the crowd still echoed in your ears as the final buzzer sounded, sealing UConn's victory in the National Championship. Confetti rained down like a golden storm, and the sea of fans in the stands erupted into chaos. Your heart pounded, not just from the win, but from watching her—Paige Bueckers, your girlfriend, the star of the night—lift the trophy high above her head, her grin wide enough to light up the whole damn arena. She'd just balled out, dropping a cool seventeen points, and now she was a champion.

Your champion.

You were courtside, decked out in her jersey—number 5, of course—cheering so loud your throat was raw. When her eyes found yours through the madness, she winked, that cocky little smirk tugging at her lips.

God, she looked good when she knew she'd killed it. The team swarmed her, but she broke free just long enough to jog over, pulling you into a sweaty, bone-crushing hug over the barrier.

"We fuckin' did it, baby!" she yelled over the noise, her voice hoarse from shouting all game. Her arms were strong around you, and you could feel her heart racing against your chest.

"You did it, P!" you shouted back, laughing as she kissed your forehead, her lips warm and quick before she got dragged back into the celebration. You watched her go, your chest swelling with pride and something else-anticipation. Tonight was gonna be perfect.

-

Fast forward a couple hours, and the team decided to hit up a bar downtown to keep the vibes going. You'd gone home to change first, trading the jersey for something that'd make Paige's jaw drop.

You picked a black miniskirt, tight in all the right places, with a matching black shirt that made your tits sit just right—your sternum tat sitting pretty right in the middle.

When you met up with the team at the bar, Paige was already there, looking perfect in her dark wash jeans and graphic tee, chain peeking out just enough to tease. Her blonde hair was down, loose waves catching the dim lights, and when she saw you, her eyes widened.

"Yo, hold up," she said, stepping closer, her voice low and raspy. "You tryna leave early tonight, or sum’?” Her hands slid to your waist, pulling you in as she bit her lip, giving you that look—like she was already plotting how the night would end.

"You look good, P," you teased, running a hand down her chest. She smirked, leaning in to whisper, "Just be patient. We gon’ celebrate you tonight."

-

The bar was packed, music thumping, and the team was loud as hell—Azzi and Kaitlyn were already on their second round of shots, KK was dancing on a table, and Ice was trying to talk her down, laughing her ass off.

Paige kept you close, her arm slung around your shoulders as y'all sipped drinks and enjoyed each other. Every now and then, she'd lean over, lips brushing your ear to say something dirty or sweet—sometimes both.

"You proud of me, mama?" She asked at one point, her tone softer, almost needy under the bravado.

"Paige, I'm so proud of you," you said, turning to cup her face. "You're unreal out there. Best in the game, swear.”

She grinned, kissing you slow and deep right there in front of everybody, not caring who saw. "Love you, ma," she murmured against your lips, and your stomach flipped. The night was electric, but you were itching to get her alone.

-

By the time y'all stumbled out of the bar, it was past midnight, and the energy had shifted. The team was still hyped, but Paige's hand on your lower back told you she was ready to dip. "You wanna go to yours?" she said, her voice husky from the drinks and the vibe.

You didn't need convincing.

Your apartment wasn't far, and the second you hit the door, Paige was on you. She kicked it shut behind her, hands grabbing your hips as she pushed you against the wall, lips crashing into yours. It was messy, hungry, all tongues and teeth, and you moaned into it, tugging at her belt loops.

"Fuck, thought about you the whole time, baby," she growled, her breath hot against your neck as she kissed down it, sucking hard enough to leave marks. "You looked so good inna stands, couldn’t wait to touch you.

“Win or loss."

"Paige," you gasped, head tilting back as her hands roamed, slipping under your skirt to grip your thighs.

"You wanna get laid out, right?" Paige asks, a grin roaming across her face—her words seeming like a joke—but was all seriousness.

“Basically.”

-

She didn't waste time. Scooping you up like it was nothing, she carried you down the hall, your legs wrapped around her waist. You were kissing her the whole way, giggling when she almost tripped over your shoes by the door.

"All this giggling, you excited?" She laughed, kicking the bedroom door open and tossing you onto the bed.

You bounced once, propping up on your elbows to watch her strip off her shirt, her movements quick and deliberate. She caught you staring and smirked, taking her shirt off slow just to fuck with you. "You starin’."

"Shut up nd’ c'mere," you shot back, grabbing her by the waistband of her slacks when she got close enough. She laughed, climbing over you, and the weight of her body pinning you down sent a thrill through you.

Her lips found yours again, softer this time but still needy, and her hands were everywhere—tugging your skirt up, sliding over your skin. "You see how pretty this body is, baby," she mumbled, kissing down your jaw, your neck, your collarbone.

She pulled your skirt and shirt off you in one smooth motion, leaving you in just your bra and panties, and the way her eyes darkened made your breath hitch.

"Paige, please," you whined, arching into her touch as her fingers traced the edge of your underwear.

"Please what, mama? C’mon, I win a championship nd’ you still can’t use your words?" She teased, voice low as she kissed down your stomach, slow and torturous. "Tell me what you need."

"You," you breathed, hands tangling in her hair. "Want you fuckin’ me, baby."

She groaned at that, like your words flipped a switch. "Say less." Hooking her fingers in your panties, she yanked them down, tossing them somewhere behind her.

Then her mouth was on you, and one thing you knew—Paige didn't play when it came to this.

Her tongue moved like she'd memorized every spot that'd make you squirm, licking slow circles before sucking hard on your clit. You moaned loud, back arching off the bed, and she gripped your thighs to keep you still.

"Fuck, P… right there," you gasped, legs shaking as she ate you out like it was her last meal. She hummed against you, the vibration sending you spiraling, and when you looked down, her eyes were locked on yours, all smug and heated.

"Taste so good, mama," she mumbled between licks, and you were done for. Your hands tightened in her hair, hips grinding against her face as the pressure built, and she doubled down, tongue flicking faster until you came undone with a string of curses and her name on your lips.

She didn't stop until you were trembling, pulling back with a grin, her lips shiny and her chin wet. "That's one," she said, climbing back up to kiss you, letting you taste yourself on her. You were still catching your breath, but you flipped her over, straddling her hips.

"Gotta celebrate you next, yeah?" You said, voice shaky but determined. She raised a brow, smirking like she was daring you, and you started unbuttoning her jeans, shoving them down with her boxers.

She was soaked, and the sight of her—legs spread, looking up at you like you were her whole world—had you dripping all over again.

You kissed her hard, grinding down so your wetness brushed against hers, and she moaned into your mouth, hands gripping your ass to pull you closer. "Fuck, ma, you’re pussy’s drippin’." She rasped, and you grinned, sliding a hand between you to tease her with your fingers.

"Payback, baby," you whispered, slipping two fingers inside her. She cursed, head tipping back as you curled them, hitting that spot that made her gasp. Her hips bucked against your hand, and you added a third, pumping faster while your thumb circled her clit. She was loud—groaning, swearing, chanting your name like a prayer—and it was the sexiest thing you'd ever heard.

"Shit, mama, I'm—fuck, don't stop," she panted, and you didn't, pushing her over the edge until she clenched around you, her whole body shuddering as she came. You slowed down, kissing her through it, and when she finally opened her eyes, they were hazy, full of that post-high glow.

"Goddamn," she breathed, pulling you down for a sloppy, grateful kiss. "You're too good at that."

"We ain't done," you said, smirking as you shifted, lining yourself up so you could press against her, wet heat meeting wet heat. She groaned low, hands guiding your hips as you started moving, slow at first, then faster as the friction built.

Scissoring with Paige was next—level—y'all fit together like puzzle pieces, every slide sending sparks through you both.

"Fuck, ma. pussy feels so good," she moaned, head thrown back, abs flexing as she matched your rhythm. The room was all heat and noise-skin slapping, breaths hitching, curses bouncing off the walls. You were close again, and you could tell she was too, her grip tightening, her moans getting louder.

"Paige, I'm gonna—" you started, but she cut you off, pulling you down to kiss you as you both hit that peak together, bodies shaking, locked tight as the waves crashed over you. It was intense, messy, perfect, and when you finally collapsed beside her, both of you sweaty and spent, she pulled you into her arms, laughing softly.

"Best fuckin' celebration ever," she said, voice rough but warm, kissing the top of your head. You snuggled closer, tracing lazy circles on her stomach.

"Love you, P," you murmured, and she squeezed you tighter.

"Love you more, ma. Always."

The night faded into soft breaths and tangled limbs, the championship net forgotten somewhere downstairs. All that mattered was her—your Paige—and the way she held you like you were her whole world.

🏷️ — @pboogerswbb @cherryswisherz @tndaqlifwy @sierrale8ne @janaelalfysblunt @bueckersbitch @lovegalor333 @juspeaks @flipthepaige @omg-imtumbling @xxloveralways14 @mrsarnold @wbbgetsmewetter @lupinqs @linebg0 @authentic-girl03 @melpthatsme @makethemhoesmad @ashortyluvsports @paigesbabygirl @d3arapril @slut4uconnwbb

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IM SHEDDING TEARS WHILE AZZI SHAKING ASS

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YEEEEEE

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OH LEILAA🤭🤭

glasses paige who accidentally cums when strapping reader down THANK YEW

♪ now playing `` ﹕ dark red by steve lacy ❊

pairing ! p. bueckers x fem!reader

warnings smut, subbutdom!paige, dom!reader at some point, championship, pet names , strap (r recieving, paige still getting off), a little fast paced

summary after the championship paige took you home to celebrate her way but ended being..

The final cheer was cheered the confetti rained down on the team. They really won the championship. The adrenaline hit Paige like crack as she ran to courtside and pulled you into a big kiss and put the hat on your head. She made sure none of the cameras were facing y'all way.

"Im so so proud of you baby."

"Yea? prove it to me. The team ain't leaving til later lets go home."

Her words alone made you squirm in your seat as you stood up unknownly and she told the team she was leaving before yall headed out to your car.

Not even 10 minutes later y'all ended up in y'all condo kissing everywhere around the apartment. Kitchen counter, wall, couch. Yea it's gonna be a long night.

Next thing you know you paige was propped up on her pillow, resting against the headboard as you bounced on her strap. "Look so pretty mama", Paige hummed out as she guided your hips and fixing her glasses here and there, slapping your ass here and there. Your whines and moans filled the room as you continued to bounce.

Everything felt well until you heard something you thought you wouldn't.

"Mama you doing so well- mmph", Paige unmindly moaned out making you feel a bit shocked. You then looked down seeing the bottom of the strap hitting her core through her boxers.

"Paige did you just moan?"

"What no- wait shit keep going."

You nodded and continued to bounce, picking your pace up making both of y'all moan. "You close pretty girl? i am too keep going", Paige moaned out her glasses falling off her face as she bucked her hips up.

"Mhm- mmph im cumming", You moaned out as came all over the strap, riding your high out. Not to long later Paige came as well.

"Y'know we should have a double ended strap.

tags @janaelalfysblunt @kamii-2 @sweetbcgs

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WE LIVE YALL

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Holly Rowe. im coming for your job.

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me rn:

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BIG RAH MVP

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we cutting the net TONIGHT!!!

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I LOVE ME AN AUBREY GRIFFIN REBOUND

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TALK ABOUT A MENACE!!!!!!

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that was the fastest first half i’ve EVER SEEN