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summary: Officially living across the country from each other after the WNBA draft, Paige misses Azzi more than should be humanly possible. At least there’s facetime.
OR
Shameless WAG!Azzi phone sex
pairing: Paige Bueckers x Azzi Fudd
wc: 6k
contents: smut, fluff, pwp
Paige, to put it simply, feels like shit.
It's the end of rookie camp, finally, and really, it's gone well. She knows she's on the final roster, she's bonded well with a majority of the team in a short time, and although there's certainly differences in the dynamics of her new coaching staff than what she's been used to at UCONN, it's been good.
She's done well in the workouts, she's made good connections, and she's even managed to find a couple of local spots she likes, which come in handy on long days like these that leave her sore and too tired to cook.
She should be ecstatic, and she knows it.
Being in this position is all she’s ever dreamt of- but she’s exhausted: not as much from the camp itself as from the ridiculous pace that the last month had demanded: going from a national championship run straight to New York for the draft, and then immediately rushing back to Storrs to pack everything for the move to Dallas just to get straight into training camp.
On top of all of that, there’s Azzi. Azzi, who’s been impossibly supportive and patient through it all, putting her own feelings aside to make sure Paige was cared for and uplifted at every turn, and who has most certainly not been given her flowers over the grace she showed through it all. Who, if she’s being honest with herself, Paige knows she has yet to properly thank.
Azzi, who she misses with every fiber of her being.
Sure, she’d made sure to have a bouquet delivered to her apartment once she’d gotten back from helping Paige get set up in Dallas, and sure, they’d talked every day since, pretty much as constantly as was physically possible. Sure, they fell asleep on the phone almost every night unless one of them fell asleep before the other got free to call, and of course she’d ordered her a few gifts pretty much any time she’d seen something online she knew Azzi would like.
But that was just being a good girlfriend- and the fact remained that if she had her way, she'd be coming home to Azzi right now. She knows it's not feasible- she has responsibilities elsewhere, and she would never want to get in the way of that. Still, the absence of her leaves an ache that she can't fill for the life of her.
Now, just like it's been since the start of training camp, it’s late enough by the time she gets home that she’s not even completely sure that Azzi will still be awake to call. She sighs, frustrated at the thought, and lets her gym bag drop to the floor with a soft thud. She’ll unpack it later, she thinks, but really, she knows it’ll sit there for at least an extra day without Azzi here to remind her about it.
She rolls her shoulder as she walks to her bathroom, trying to shrug off the soreness that’s settled into it as she reaches for her toothbrush. Leaning in close to the mirror, she barely resists the urge to pick at her face as she examines her skin a little too closely while brushing her teeth.
Her right hand fishes her phone out of her sweats pocket as her left hand wipes at her mouth once she’s done, flicking the bathroom light off on her way to her bed. She lets her phone drop to the mattress after tapping the facetime button next to Azzi’s contact name, freeing her hands to pull her t-shirt over her head and toss it behind her, narrowly missing her hamper.
The line rings as she turns over her blankets and climbs into bed, the low light of her colored lamp casting shadows across the room.
Finally, right as she decides Azzi must have already fallen asleep, the familiar pickup tone sounds, and then there’s her girl, a perfect image of chaos, mid-shout with her curls in motion as she yells off screen at what is presumably one of her roommates to 'close the door and let her be.'
Paige can’t help the goofy grin that nearly instantly spreads across her face when she sees her, eagerly drinking in the sight of her messy bun and sleep shirt as she apparently props up her phone on her dresser on the other end of the call.
The background noise falls quiet and the younger girl sighs, slightly flushed as she digs through her drawer, a small smile tugging at the corners of her lips as she catches a glimpse of the blonde on her phone screen, looking up at her through her lashes.
“Hey, mama,” Paige greets, and the younger girls’ dimples pop, hard, as she looks properly at her after retrieving her bonnet and sliding it on. “Hey, you,” She returns, voice full of adoration as her fingers work to tuck stray curls beneath the elastic in a practiced motion.
“Sorry about that, they’re being annoying!” She continues, yelling the end of the sentence for the other girls in the apartment to hear as if she’s scolding them for her behavior. Paige smirks at how utterly Azzi that is as the younger girl continues rustling around to get ready for bed.
“What you been up to, pretty girl?” Paige asks, tucking an arm behind her head as she stares at the image in front of her, the weight of exhaustion and longing slowly melting off of her shoulders at something as simple as watching the other girl rifle through her chest of drawers.
Azzi sighs, her frame relaxing at the mere utterance of the pet name, a fact that brings the blonde a great deal of satisfaction to take note of.
“So busy,” She groans, pumping lotion into her hands before lathering her arms with it, slender fingers moving lithely along taut brown-sugar skin, catching Paige’s attention effortlessly. “Had to film with Kenz this morning after I went to go shoot,”
Her voice muffles slightly when she bends at the waist, presumably to run the lotion over her legs. "Then had some sponsorship calls before I went in for conditioning,”
Suddenly, her ass is the only thing visible on screen, pert and perfect, wiggling slightly with the movement of her arms.
You have got to be kidding me, Paige thinks, unable to help herself from watching intently as Azzi works the lotion in, every ounce of her focus concentrated the swell of her ass, the slight movement to it, the way there’s a tiny sliver of perfectly tanned skin peeking out at her from the bottom of her too-big boxer shorts.
Oblivious to the fact she's being ogled, the younger girl stands back up, repeating the process of collecting lotion in her hands before bending back over to give the other leg the same treatment. Paige wets her lips, watching her gradually come back into the frame as she works her way up her legs, eyeing the contour of her biceps with the slight effort.
Damn, she’s got it bad. Five minutes ago she was deep in self pity and convinced she'd be asleep within ten minutes of her head hitting the pillow, but now her mind couldn't be further from sleep.
Now, her fingers itch with the urge to reach out and touch the other girl- to feel the soft warmth of the expanse skin between her waist and hips, to feel the weight of her body pressing against her own, to feel the tickle of her curls as she kisses at the junction of her neck and breathes in her scent.
“And then we were helping Sarah move her shit, and dude… “ Azzi resurfaces and turns back to face the screen now, her eyes widening to add emphasis to her point as she drops her voice to a whisper. “She’s got a lot of shit,” She says, staring into the camera as she says it, deadly serious.
Paige was only half-listening, though, so when what comes out after a pause is a raspy little ‘uh-huh,’ instead of the sarcastic response Azzi was expecting, she quirks an eyebrow and leans in closer, suspicious, like it’s somehow going to alter what she can see through the screen.
It’s quiet for a second, Paige realizing that she’s zoned out and trying to fix her expression and play it off like she hadn’t, attempting to blink the hood of lust from her eyes and offering a small smile, hoping Azzi wouldn't ask her what she’d just said.
A giggle from the younger girl breaks the silence as she picks up her phone and brings it close to her face. “Oh my god, Paige, are you fucking horny right now?” She asks, her voice dropping to a smug little whisper.
Not at all for the first time in her life, Paige finds herself wishing that her cheeks didn’t damn near immediately sell her out of just about any lie she’d ever attempted to deliver. She plays it cool anyway, despite the fact that she feels heat flood to her cheeks at being clocked.
“Not my fault you look like that, baby,” She replies, and Azzi rolls her eyes as she finally settles into bed, but there’s a knowing smirk on her face that sets butterflies off low in Paige’s belly. She clears her throat.
"So you finna tell me how much you been missin' me, or what?" She asks, pushing the focus off of herself and regaining her composure, rotating her bent knee back and forth absentmindedly as she talks.
Azzi hums, feigning consideration. "I guess I might. Just a little," She says as she draws herself under the covers.
Paige hums in disbelief. "Well I f'sure been missing you, mama," She says, playing idly with her hair as she talks, looking up to examine a strand of hair brought in front of her eyes.
"Yeah?" Azzi asks, watching the way the column of her neck stretches with the motion with maybe just a little bit too much attention.
"Yeah," Paige affirms, her arm returning to rest behind her head once she's done playing with her hair, only adding to how infuriatingly good she looks.
"How much?" The younger girl asks, and it’s feigningly soft and sweet in that way that makes Paige's stomach twist.
“Whole lot, baby. Think 'bout you all day every day, y'know that.”
Azzi nods, tucking one hand between her head and her pillow. "Well, what do you miss the most?" She pries.
"Ev'rything," Paige breathes, her voice low and a bit gravelly from shouting at practice. "Miss your face and your laugh- miss the way you smell,"
Azzi hums, reminiscing about the last time Paige was on top of her, kissing her neck- how she'd groaned a compliment about the way she smelled between pecks.
"Miss how soft your skin is, miss kissing on you. All of it," The blonde says, letting images of previous nights flood her mind- grabbing the swell of her ass, kissing the plush skin of her thighs, drinking in the little noises she'd let slip.
"Oh yeah?" Azzi asks. "Yeah, baby. 'Course I do."
“I miss you, too,” Azzi admits. "So bad it’s fucking criminal, honestly.” Paige chuckles.
“Criminal, huh?”
Azzi hesitates for a second, biting her lip, and that’s when Paige starts to pick up on it.
Her voice drops a bit quieter. “Made a video for you yesterday, you know,” She says, coy, and suddenly she knows exactly where this is going, and so does Paige.
Paige's eyebrows raise, interest piqued. "A video, huh?” Azzi nods, half of her face hidden from the camera.
“What kind of video?" She asks, playing dumb, a smirk plastering itself onto her face and that stupid sultry tone settling into her voice. Azzi pauses, a sheepish smile on her face as she stares at Paige intently through her lashes.
God, she's cute, Paige thinks.
"What, you all shy now, baby?” Paige asks, her chest a little tight at the tension that seems to be settling into the conversation, lighting her nerves on fire. Azzi furrows her eyebrows and pushes her lips out into a pout, not even acknowledging her with a response aside from an indignant 'hmph.'
"How come I’m just now hearing about it?" She asks, voice playful, and Azzi shrugs defensively, face flushing the tiniest bit while she picks at her sheets, just to give her hands something to do.
"I almost sent it this morning, but I couldn’t remember your schedule- I didn’t wanna send it when you were around too many people or distract you if you were doing something important."
Fuck that, Paige thinks, but she still appreciates the sentiment, so she raises her eyebrows, humming in acknowledgement, and nods.
Azzi purses her lips, considering, and then grows bolder. "I can send it to you, if you want,” She rushes to get out.
Paige wets her lips, nodding, the fingers toying absentmindedly with the baby hairs at the back of her neck stilling in anticipation.
"Yeah- lemme see, ma," She says, and there’s a raspy desperation to her voice that sends a wave of heat straight to Azzi’s center.
The younger girl bites her lip, nodding as she exits the facetime app to open her messages, pulling the video from her hidden album and re-examining the thumbnail one last time before sending it.
Paige awaits eagerly as those three little circles on her screen pop up and then go away, the video sending; Azzi listens to the sound of Paige’s bated breath while she watches the bar move across the top of the screen.
The thumbnail finally appears in the chat, and Paige lets go of a breath she didn’t know she was holding when she sees it- an above angle of Azzi, completely naked, forearm drawn across her chest over one breast while her hand holds the other.
Her stomach is taut on display, belly piercing glistening in the low light, the faintest bit of dark curls visible at the very bottom of the frame below her navel.
"Fuck, Azzi," She breathes, and Azzi giggles proudly on the other side of the call as Paige's thumb taps to expand and play the video.
The angle's bad at first, too high and not quite focused all the way, but then it drops lower, and she sees the tan expanse of Azzi's legs propped up, the blankets in her bed pushed to the side to make room for her efforts.
Paige's breath catches in her throat when the frame shifts again and the smooth caramel of her thighs gives way to the dark thatch of curls over her pelvis and finally- achingly slowly- to perfect pink, her glistening pussy entirely on display.
"Damn, baby. You warm yourself up 'fore this or y'just that needy?" Paige asks, her voice raw.
"Uh-uh," Azzi replies, sickly sweet. "Just took a shower and came out to record for you," She says earnestly, and Paige swallows thickly as she plays deftly with the drawstring of her ball shorts.
"Fuck. Look so fuckin good," She slurs, watching intently as Azzi's hand draws from cradling her tit to sliding down her stomach, pausing to play idly with the dark curls over her pelvis as she settles, tentative in checking the angle by looking at the screen, before delving lower, so slow its almost painful for Paige to watch.
"I missed you so bad yesterday, I thought I was gonna die during practice," Azzi admits, voice small. "So when I came home, I couldn't really help myself."
Paige actually thinks she's going to die from the combination of Azzi's admission in her ears while on screen, she watches the way her fingers venture down to gather slick from her entrance before tracing light circles over her clit.
"Jesus christ, babygirl. What were you thinking about that got you so wet?" Paige asks, her fingers toying now with the waistband of her shorts, mimicking a motion she's used to feeling by Azzi's hands.
Azzi flushes, falling quiet as she sucks her bottom lip into her mouth. "Um..."
The throbbing happening between Paige's legs is actually going to kill her, she's pretty sure, and she's also pretty sure that being this hot and bothered after only two weeks apart is a sure sign that she's actually lost her mind.
"...Your fingers, mostly, and your mouth," She says, her fingers slowly moving to run across her nipples over her too-big sleep shirt. It feels nice, but it pales in comparison to the sensation that Paige’s hands bring when she replicates the same motion with her knuckles, riling her up subtly while they’d watch bullshit tv or put on a game to pay partial attention to before jumping each others’ bones.
Paige takes a deep breath as she watches Azzi's fingers smooth slick over her clit, running loose circles along the swollen pink nub before spreading her lips apart to show the camera.
"Holy shit," She breathes. Azzi smiles on the other side of the phone- Paige hears it.
"...to start, at least. But then it got worse," Azzi continues, emboldened by Paige's reactions, taking pleasure in knowing exactly the effect she's having on her girlfriend, even from 1600 miles away.
In the video, her pussy clenches around nothing, and Paige has to close her eyes for a minute to hold any sense of composure, her core aching between her legs.
"And then I started thinking about what it felt like the last time we used the strap, when you bent me over and forced my ass up. I think... I like when you push into me like that. Makes it so I can feel you deep- feel how you stretch me, like, really well," She says, like its simple, like it's nothing, and Paige's mouth goes dry, the flush on her cheeks spreading to her neck and shoulders.
"Jesus fuckin' christ, Azzi," She chokes, and Azzi fucking grins.
"What, baby?" She asks, playing dumb, and Paige would swear she's having an out of body experience if not for the achingly apparent tacky spot seeping through her boxers. As if she can read her mind, Azzi doubles down.
"Am I making you wet?" She asks, right at the same time as her middle finger runs all the way through her folds from her clit before slipping inside her entrance, slow, pumping in and out once- twice- and then coming back out, her pussy fucked just slightly open for the camera, now, the slick shining all around her entrance.
Paige wets her lips at the sight, wanting nothing more than to bury herself between the other girls' legs and never let up. "Yeah, baby. Fuck- need to get off to this shit," She says.
Azzi hums, contemplating like she'd asked her for permission. "Okay. Do it then."
Paige isn't sure if it's a demand or a challenge, but she's never been one to tell Azzi no without good reason, so she slips her hand under her waistband, skipping her boxers entirely, her fingers immediately finding a mess when they meet her clit.
The back of her hand presses against the fabric and feels the excess of sticky slick, and suddenly Paige finds herself glad Azzi isn't here to see the pathetic state she's in.
"Fuck," She breathes, her fingers finding their rhythm on her clit just as Azzi's find a rhythm of thrusting inside herself on the video. She watches as her slender fingers slide in and out of her pussy, her entrance stretching with the motion.
"Feel good, baby?" Azzi asks, a little breathy, and Paige's clit twitches at the realization she's doing the same thing on the other end of the call. She hisses in response, pursing her lips. "Mhm," She nods, trying desperately to keep her composure, but the rawness in her throat gives her away.
"What if I told you I'm every bit as wet as that... right now?" Azzi asks, running her fingers through her slit, and Paige has to clench her jaw, narrowly avoiding biting her cheek. "God- you're killing me, Az," She groans, a pang of arousal hitting low in her belly at the thought.
She thinks back to that same "last time" Azzi had spoken about, when she'd taken her from behind and gotten the perfect view of her perfect ass while her sweet cunt took their strap- running the tip from clit to entrance and back again, watching her clench around nothing while she made her wait, and then slowly but surely, as she pushed the tip inside, seeing the way she clenched a kiss around the head. Even now, the thought is enough to make her fingers falter.
The video stops, and for a second Paige feels a surge of annoyance in her chest at the thought that her wifi may be performing the world's worst cockblock on her, but then her outlook worsens when she realizes the halt was because it's ended.
"Fuck," She curses, her hand stilling in her shorts as she lets her head lean back and hit the headboard in frustration.
"You ok?" Azzi asks, puzzled by the thud, and Paige sighs. "Fuckin video's over," She complains, entirely too whiney to be someone with a nickname like 'nonchalant final boss'.
She swears she can hear the eyeroll happening as Azzi responds. "Just unpause me, dummy, I'm right here." She says.
Oh. Paige thinks. Right.
She eagerly swipes her thumb across her screen to extend the facetime window again, groaning when she sees that Azzi's already lost her shorts and flipped her camera around in preparation, showing the ministrations of her hand between her bare legs, pretty pink peeking out at her from beneath her nimble fingertips.
Spurred back into action by the sight, Paige resumes her previous circles around her own clit, hissing at sensation of the now cooled slick as she works it around the bundle of nerves for a second time.
"Hey," Azzi prompts. "Mmm?"
"Take off your shorts. Wanna see you, too," Azzi says, short and insistent, and Paige nearly short-circuits at her tone.
"Yeah- a'ight, gimme a sec," She says, dropping her phone to her sports bra-clad chest and picking up her hips to slide her shorts and boxers down her legs, kicking awkwardly at the blankets to get them off so she can drop them to the floor.
She picks up her phone again and is starting to resettle when Azzi interrupts her for a second time.
"Nuh uh- take that off too." Azzi corrects, and Paige sighs, desperate to return to anything that will relieve the pressure between her legs.
She sits up again, carefully, so as not to smear the wetness that's spreading across her now naked thighs onto her sheets, and pulls her bra off, too.
Paige picks up the phone for a second time, dropping the frame lower to show her now bare chest. "There. Happy now?" She asks, disgruntled, but Azzi just hums in approval.
"Very." She says, and Paige scoffs when Azzi Jazlyn 💗 has taken a screenshot! appears on her screen.
"Now come back, I miss you," She complains, and Paige does, settling back against her pillows and opening her legs.
"Let me see you, baby," The younger girl coaxes, and Paige takes her bottom lip into her mouth, letting her fingers start their rhythm back again as she flips her camera around. "There you go," Azzi soothes, her voice dripping with sex as she does the same, and Paige fucking keens at the tone.
Suddenly, she's using her pointer and middle finger to spread her lips, bringing her phone between her legs to give Paige a better angle. "See what you do to me?" She asks, sultry, before sliding back up to draw her fingers across her swollen clit, and yeah ok, they're doing this.
Her eyebrows furrow as she matches Azzi's actions, her chest tight as she watches intently. They'd done this before- after all, there were only so many things you could do as horny teenagers living in different states- but it had been a while.
Something about the act felt so juvenile and desperate that Paige felt like she was 17 again, watching the other girl finger herself in a video she'd made her for her birthday.
She's reminded about the feeling in her gut she got then, watching Azzi perform for her- knowing she was thinking about her while she did such a filthy thing. The same feeling sent shivers down her spine, even now.
"Goddamn, baby," Paige groans, her fingers losing their place on her clit from how wet she’s gotten, sliding through her slick to find the right spot again.
Azzi's breath catches at the sight of Paige’s long fingers gliding through her slick folds, her clit swollen and peeking out of it's hood- an angry pink, no doubt desperate to be stimulated the way she likes- the way Azzi’s memorized.
She groans at the thought of having her laid out in front of her, pale legs spread while she bullies her clit with her tongue before sucking on the nub into her mouth, moaning around it while she looks up at her girlfriend in that way that she knows gets her so fucking gone.
"Wanna see you fuck yourself, P," She moans, and Paige swallows, mindlessly following her wishes and immediately bringing her fingers down to her entrance to further coat them in wetness.
"Fuck yeah, baby," She breathes, her middle finger sliding into herself with almost no resistance. She’s made a mess of her thighs at this point, the low golden light of her bedroom showing the glean of her slick against pale skin as it spreads.
“Give me another one,” Azzi demands, replicating the same motions on her end of the call while Paige does too, her voice strained as she stretches around her own fingers. “Fuck- I wish you were here. Miss your fingers filling me up- feels so much better when it’s you,” The younger girl whimpers. Paige groans.
“Fuck, mama. Miss that pussy so bad- know you’d be so warm and wet f’me, huh?” Azzi moans as she curls her fingers in time with the cadence of Paige’s familiar drawl. “Yes- always for you,” She says, making Paige’s head feel light.
“Can you prop me up? I wanna see everything,” Azzi whispers, breathy, and Paige lets out a huff of protest as she looks around, not wanting to still her efforts between her legs.
“Not really, baby. Angle would be shit on my night stand,” She says, and Azzi sighs. “Just prop me up on a pillow or something. Please?” She begs- in that needy, bratty tone in her voice that’s the reason Paige can never fucking say no, and of course, she’s not going to start now.
“Fuck. Okay,” She says, awkwardly manuevering herself into a different position without drawing her fingers back outside of herself, and dipping her phone down lower again.
“Go higher, instead,” Azzi urges, and Paige pauses, frustrated at her girlfriend nitpicking something as trivial as phone placement when they’re in the middle of something so sensitive. “Yo, what?” She calls back, irritation prickling at her voice.
“Okay, first of all, take a breath,” Azzi says, a teasing lilt to her voice that melts away at Paige’s iciness. Paige purses her lips, knowing she may have been a little overzealous.
“Put me higher, please. I wanna see your chest,” She explains, and Paige sighs, nodding before using her left hand to create a makeshift lump of pillows to lean her phone against.
Azzi's obsession with her chest was insatiable, so she was never gonna win that one.
Now, Azzi sees almost perfectly across from her, seeing over her shoulder onto her chest and down her torso, slim hips, and parted legs.
“That good enough for ya?” Paige asks, blue eyes looking across at the phone, and Azzi smiles.
“Mmm. Your eyes are really pretty, you know that?” She asks, and even though her camera is still facing her legs, Paige hears the smile in her tone, and she can’t help but chuckle. “Thanks, goofy. You good now?” The blonde asks.
“Mhm,” Azzi hums, and Paige sighs, relaxing into her new position.
“Start again, the same circles. And can you play with your nipples for me this time, baby?” Azzi asks, voice dripping with lust, and Paige lets her eyes fall shut as she fulfills her request, the pointer finger and thumb of her left hand coming up to tweak the swollen bud as her right hand slowly resumes it’s previous pace fucking into herself.
Azzi bites her lip at the sight, mouth watering at the image of the perfectly pink stiffening peak combined with her right hand working between her long legs, drawing in and out of her and coming back with more slick each time.
Paige groans, eyes opening when she hears Azzi whimper, only met with the image of her hand working between her legs when she looks across at the screen.
“Where’s my view?” Paige asks, greedy and smug, and Azzi huffs, providing no response before the blankets rustle as she copies the same angle for Paige.
“Fuck yeah. So fuckin’ pretty, baby,” The older girl says, drawing her bottom lip between her teeth as her gaze catches on Azzi’s full figure- tits on display, belly taut, muscular legs spread wide enough that she can see her pretty clit being stirred by the motion of her fingering herself.
“Rub your clit for me, sweetheart- she needs it," She whispers, and Azzi obliges, bringing her left hand down to stimulate the swollen pearl while her right wrist cranes hard to keep an angle that allows her to keep fucking herself while also enabling Paige the view she knows she wants.
“Y’like that?” The blonde asks, and Azzi whines as she nods, eyebrows tented.
Paige hums in approval, stretching her hand so that the base of her palm rubs against her own throbbing bud, an obscene squelching sound resulting from the increased friction.
Azzi groans at the sound, hips squirming as she watches her propped up phone intently for little glimpses of glistening pink as Paige's hand picks up speed against her dripping cunt, breathy gasps falling from her mouth as her fingers work.
"Fuck, Paige. Sound so fucking needy," Azzi mumbles, her voice low.
Paige whines, high in her throat, and Azzi arches her back to grind into her hand, needing extra relief at the suffocating knowledge that she's the reason the blonde is this pent up.
"Az- fuck," Paige moans, grabbing at her breast as she bucks against her hand, her eyes glued to the way Azzi has both hands working her needy pussy, her hips squirming to meet more friction even still.
"You're so desperate for me, huh? Had to put on a show and make that little video cause you missed me so bad?" Paige asks, and Azzi moans, guttural.
"Fuck, you have no fucking idea, Paige. Took nudes for you in Werth like a slut and didn't even send them," She confesses, all breath, and Paige's brain, she's sure, is going to fucking short circuit.
"Yeah?" She asks, breathy and strained. "You that fuckin' needy, mama? All distracted and pent up f'me?"
"Yesss, Paige, I fucking am," She nods, biting her bottom lip as her hips chant into her fingers in a desperate attempt to deepen the angle she's fucking herself with- to make it feel like Paige.
"I need you so bad- please fuck me, please fucking fuck me," Azzi chants. Paige works her wrist impossibly harder against herself, curling her fingers against that spongy spot inside herself that she never cared much to mess with until Azzi showed her how it could feel.
"Good fuckin girl, baby, rub that pussy for me just like that- doin' so good," Paige praises.
"Please, Paige, fuck me like I need it, you know I do," Azzi moans, back arched. "Let me take care of you, I'll make you feel so good, I swear- be so fucking good for you," Azzi begs, fucking begs.
"Jesus fucking christ, Azzi Jazlyn," Paige breathes, the band in her belly growing insanely fucking taut.
"God, please. Need you, P. I need your stupid fingers and your perfect mouth." Paige clenches her jaw, sweat glistening across her chest with her efforts.
"I wanna feel you- wanna touch you and feel how much of a wreck you are for me, too," Azzi rambles, and Paige can tell she’s getting close from the way she’s starting to babble- and thank god for that, because she’s been achingly close and trying desperately not to make a fool out of herself for a while now, she thinks.
"Yeah baby- fuck, I am. 'M a fuckin mess for you- pussy's so fuckin wet and desperate for you, my girl,"
"I wanna cum, I wanna cum," Azzi says, her hips bucking into her hand with abandon. Paige is almost fucking dizzy, the way every word she's moaning is rushing straight to her head, and her climax is barreling towards her, too.
"Fuck yeah, baby, look at me," Paige calls, and Azzi whines, craning her head to look at the screen.
She sees Paige's hips canting up to grind against her hand, too, sees the slick that's spread all over it when her long fingers pull back, her clit swollen and peeking out betwen fast, urgent drags, and there's no fucking way she's not cumming at that.
"Oh my fucking god, Paige, please," She begs, and Paige nods, wetting her lips, because holy fuck if she's not right there, too.
"Fuck yeah, baby- come on, cum with me, pretty girl- cum with me," She coos, and Azzi whines, high and needy and oh-so-fucked-out.
"I'm gonna cum, I'm gonna cum, oh fuck-" She chants, and Paige moans, her hand dragging against her soaked cunt desperately.
"Good girl, baby- gonna fuckin' cum for you Azzi," She slurs, and Azzi's right fucking there, they're both right fucking there.
"Please, please cum with me Paige, I wanna cum with you, baby,” Azzi whines.
"Fuck, Azzi, gonna fuckin'- oh fuck- cum, fuck-" Paige slurs, breath running all together before she sucks in a final gasp, her thighs clamping around her hand at the same time Azzi's back is arching high, her eyes squeezed shut as she chants the blonde's name over and over, ‘Paige, Paige, Paige,’ a sound the older girl will never get tired of replaying in her head.
Their breaths run together as they come down, both of them awkwardly moving their phones to their chests as they recover, previous angles now seeming a bit on the nose.
That was certainly not how she planned this call to go, but she wasn't about to complain.
"Goddamn, babygirl," Paige finally speaks, and Azzi laughs, that perfect giddy laugh that's just for Paige.
"I told you I missed you," She shrugs shyly, but there's a glint in her eyes that tells the older girl that really, she's not shy about it at all.
"Wish I could kiss you r'now," Paige mumbles, running her non-slick covered hand over her face. Azzi smiles, a sort of sad smile, but it only lasts a second.
"I know, baby. I'll see you soon though," She soothes, and at least there’s that. The promise of seeing Azzi in Minnesota soon adds a new layer to Paige's anticipation for the impending Lynx matchup- to play in her hometown in the league for the first time would be a dream come true, no denying- but right now, the appeal of seeing Azzi was far more alluring.
"Let's clean up, yeah? And then I think we both could use some sleep after that." Azzi suggests. Paige sighs, slowly gathering her thoughts before getting up, awkwardly manuevering so as to avoid spreading slick all over her bedding.
"Don't think you're getting out of sending those pictures, by the way," She teases as she flicks the bathroom light on, and Azzi rolls her eyes.
Maybe she’s being delusional, but something about the way they still banter the same as they always have with each other, the way they make silly jokes as they get ready for bed, and the way she falls asleep to the familiar sound of Azzi’s breathing that night makes her feel like she’s not so far away, after all.
Hey y'all! Thanks for reading and I hope y'all enjoyed it. This was a fun one to break my writers' block with- if y'all like it enough I might do a part two of WAG!Azzi coming to visit so you get a glimpse of in person WNBA era pazzi as well. If anyone's wondering about the title, it's taken from sweet by cigarettes after sex, which P has in her lovergirl playlist. 😌 Please leave comments/come with anons about how you felt about this one, hope to post again for y'all soon!
long distance wnba!paige & uconn!azzi who have not had sex in weeks. azzi wants to fix that. paige is mildly oblivious.
(quick, shitty/unedited blurb bc i didn't want to write them arguing in my other fic today. jfc this is not meant to be a part of my legacy LMFAO sorry. happy natty freaks)
__
azzi shifted in her covers, subtly sliding them down her body so that the curve of her waist was visible to the camera.
she was laying on her side, on facetime with paige, who was currently absorbed in tiktok on her phone. and that was fine and all, but azzi was hot. not in the sticky, sweaty way, but in the way that started in her chest and darkened her eyes, slipping down into her boxers.
and paige looked so– she’d come home from practice and hadn’t changed, hair in a messy low bun and black practice jersey clinging to her biceps. she hadn’t been lying about hitting the gym, and as she absentmindedly flexed her muscles as she rested her hand behind her head, azzi felt carnivorous.
the distance between them hadn’t been so long in years, with paige at the end of her first professional season while azzi geared up for the beginning of her own. the two of them were caught in the distance, and facetimes made up for a lot of things but couldn’t stop azzi’s body from craving. between everything, the talking never slowed, but they hadn’t had time for anything, uh, special, in the last few weeks.
paige’s eyes flickered towards the screen for a half a second at the movement. never one to pass up making a comment on azzi’s body, she whistled as she looked back at her phone.
“damn, mami, you look good.”
azzi hummed in acknowledgement, frowning at paige’s lack of interest. except, of course, that that in itself was kind of hot, the knowledge that she was all feverish and bothered while paige was calm and collected. she let her scroll on for a few more minutes, subtly rubbing her inner thighs together to give herself any sort of friction.
after a bit, she let out a dramatic sigh. “it’s still so hot here.”
it was october in storrs, connecticut. it was not fucking hot.
“take off the covers,” paige replied automatically, still engrossed in her screen.
“probably a good idea,” azzi replied, feigning nonchalance. she slipped a leg out of the covers, making sure that the muscle of her thigh was visible to the camera for a brief moment as she used her leg to slip the covers off of her body. not that it mattered, because paige wasn’t paying her any attention.
damn. she’d have to try harder.
her heart skipped a beat for a moment as she fingered the hem of her sweatshirt, debating her next action for a second. paige was still looking away from her, though, and she couldn’t have that.
she smoothly sat up, turning slightly away from paige to feign “modesty”. drawing the fabric over her head, she made sure that paige had a great view of her back muscles on display through her skin tight tank top. she pretended to stretch a bit, flexing her traps a little, and for a brief moment the knowledge that so much of her was on display went straight to her boxers, reinforcing the wet patch that had already begun to form.
unfortunately, right after that, she regretted it. it was freezing cold in her room, and the chilled air hitting her skin made her erupt in goosebumps, nipples hardening through the thin fabric of her shirt. swallowing her pride, she turned deliberately back to paige, positioning herself on her side again so that her tits were closer to the camera.
her mouth went dry. paige was staring. good.
“damn,” paige’s eyes were wide, flitting down to her chest. the blonde swallowed thickly, blinking.
“what?” azzi asked innocently, voice smooth and creamy.
“nothing,” paige caught herself, shaking her head slightly. “you feel better?” she looked back at her phone.
that diabolical piece of technology. for how much paige loved her damn ipad, she sure wasn’t paying any attention to it.
azzi loved paige, she really did, but she wished that she would be less polite sometimes. paige would flirt, and paige would look, but she could be so fucking dense. azzi wanted her to notice, wanted her to take control.
she rolled over onto her stomach, repositioning the phone so that it was above her head and she was laying in front of it. from the camera angle, her head and chest were visible; she pushed herself up onto her forearms, ensuring that the valley of her exposed tits was impossible to miss.
she looked up at paige through her lashes, just staring. the pressure from the mattress on her hips felt good, and from this angle she could start to press herself into it without it being noticeable to paige. she did just that, starting a slow grind against her sheets.
that got paige to falter, phone dropping a few inches down as she caught sight of azzi’s bare skin and curves. azzi blinked slowly at her, watching her resolve melt a little.
“you good, baby?” paige asked, voice low and slightly scratchy. azzi tried not to smirk. score.
she “absentmindedly” crossed a hand over her body to her shoulder, idly tracing her fingertips along her skin.
“i’m good,” she murmured with a slow smile, nails scraping their way across her collarbone. god, it felt fucking good. any sort of intimate touch, even her own, paired with her gentle grinding had her breathing growing deeper.
paige’s eyes locked onto the motion, pupils dragging along with azzi’s fingernails left, right, left right. azzi saw her jaw clench for a millisecond; then, suddenly her phone screen went half dark and she jerked her head back down, tapping it to make sure it stayed on and bringing it back up to her face.
god damn it.
“paige,” she called out, and paige’s eyes snapped back up to her, once again flitting down to her chest before settling on her face.
“yes, baby?” paige asked, voice tight and slightly strained.
azzi swallowed. “i was just thinking about how we used to cuddle after practice.”
“yeah?”
azzi nodded. “i miss you holding me.”
it was a step.
“i miss holding you,” paige bit her lip. go time. azzi moved the camera slightly to the side, angled so that paige could see the length of her body. in her barely-there cotton shorts and old tank top, she knew that paige would be looking at nothing but her ass.
“damn,” paige muttered under her breath, shifting forward slightly. her eyes darkened the barest amount, drinking in the curve of azzi’s waist. azzi’s heart rate sped up.
azzi didn’t let her have it for long, though, rolling again onto her back. now, paige had an excellent view directly down her shirt.
paige’s breath hitched. “az,” she said quietly, her voice small, “you’re killing me.”
a thrill shot through azzi’s chest. “killing you?” she murmured, “well, i wouldn’t want to do that.”
she looked up at the camera, the angle slightly awkward, but she caught sight of herself in the corner of her screen and mentally applauded. she looked good. she let her tongue slip from her mouth, wetting her lips, as she kept eye contact with her girlfriend.
paige looked– jesus. the strands of hair falling out from her bun curled around her face deliciously, her large hands now resting in her lap, phone long forgotten. azzi’s gaze traced the veins from her wrist to her fingers, letting her eyes flutter shut as she imagined the feel of them inside of her, on her, rubbing her clit.
there was a silence between them for a few seconds, thick with tension, before paige opened her mouth.
“you look really good,” she blurted out.
how kind of her to notice, azzi thought. it wasn’t like she’d been showing herself off to the camera for the last ten minutes or anything.
she laughed lightly, like she hadn’t been expecting to hear it, and casually let her fingers start trailing lines up and down her stomach. she knew her girlfriend, knew that paige loved to touch her the exact same way.
“oh?” she smiled, innocent. she let her voice drop into a purr. “and what are you going to do about it?”
paige inhaled deeply, and warmth flooded dizzyingly to azzi’s cheeks.
she trailed her fingers up, across her chest, running over her nipples. her head tipped backwards slightly with pleasure, catching her bottom lip between her teeth.
“what do you want?” paige rasped.
azzi exhaled. “want you,” she breathed, letting her palm cup her chest and squeeze.
“you sure?” paige asked carefully.
“yeah,” azzi nodded. paige smiled at her, fond. then she let her demeanor shift, harden.
“do you?” paige drawled. “you seem to be doing a pretty good job by yourself already.”
god, the change was hot. azzi felt something in her brain melt away, relaxing into it. paige’s confident voice was like liquid pleasure, streaming right to azzi’s clit and making her twitch. she was so turned on it was painful, body screaming at her to touch, to get relief.
“tell me,” she choked out, “tell me how.”
“yeah?” paige confirmed, “want me to tell you how to touch yourself?”
jesus. her saying it outright had a pulse seizing azzi’s core, thighs tensing and stretching down. she nodded, feeling the words absent from her tongue.
“of course,” paige muttered, “can’t get off without me, can you, pretty girl? needed me to make you feel good?”
azzi nearly whined at that, hand still kneading at her chest. she nodded again, hips rocking down slightly into the mattress as her thighs spread apart in anticipation.
“shorts off,” paige told her, suddenly. azzi scrambled to pull the fabric off of her skin, leaving her in her now soaked boxers.
“boxers off.”
fuck. she wasn’t playing around. azzi swallowed thickly, doing as she was told. she was left in her thin tank, nipples still straining against the fabric, and her wet cunt was exposed to the cold air of the room. she shivered, biting at her lip.
“really good, baby,” paige said softly, soothingly.
azzi trembled with anticipation, waiting to be given the go ahead to touch herself. she could already feel the wetness on her inner thighs, and she imagined paige licking it off and tonguing up her heat.
“just keep touching your chest for me,” paige murmured, “keep feeling good.”
azzi exhaled impatiently, tortured to no end. she was already feeling good, but she could be feeling so much better if she could touch her fucking clit. she couldn’t disobey her girlfriend, though, so she resigned herself to kneading her chest a little harder, trying to give herself as much stimulation as she could.
“want you to tug on your nipples, baby,” paige’s voice cut through her ministrations. “pinch them a little, feel how sensitive they get, pull them out until it hurts a little.”
oh, fuck, oh, fuck. azzi’s fingers quickly sought out her nipples through her tank top, finding purchase and following paige’s orders. her back arched up off the bed, keening into the touch. the added bit of pain made her head dizzy.
she rolled them between her fingers, sighing deeply.
“jesus,” paige breathed, and azzi did whimper at that.
“feels good,” she whispered.
“yeah?”
“yeah,” she confirmed with another nod, going back to kneading her chest.
“that’s good, baby,” paige murmured, “i want you to feel so good for me.”
azzi hummed, a thought flashing wildly through her mind. she knew she shouldn’t say it, but her inhibitions were lowered– “i could feel better.”
“oh?” paige laughed. shit. azzi wasn’t expecting that, teeth digging into her bottom lip, and humiliation flashed through her.
“what, you think you could do it better? you think you can fuck yourself better than i can?”
“no,” azzi pleaded automatically, shaking her head. “i can’t.”
“no, no,” paige said, amused, “do go on. i’d love to watch you try.”
“can’t,” azzi muttered, shame coursing through her. the way paige was talking to her was so fucking hot.
“you can’t?” paige confirmed.
azzi shook her head again.
“then shut the fuck up and do what i tell you.”
azzi gasped, head surging and hips canting up from the words alone. she nodded eagerly, obediently, keeping her fingers on her nipples like paige had told her to.
“you want more, then, pretty girl?”
“mmhm.”
“i know you do,” paige said, matter-of-fact, “bet you’re already making a mess of those sheets.”
god. she was right, of course. azzi nodded.
“tell me.”
“i’m making a mess of my sheets,” azzi echoed, clenching her thighs together to try to relieve the ache. the slickness of her core lubricated the area, filthy and wet.
“of course you are,” paige shrugged. “you want it so fucking badly.”
“i want it so fucking badly,” azzi repeated again.
“what do you want, pretty?”
the pet name spun azzi’s head in circles. “to touch.”
“to touch yourself,” paige corrected, “you want to touch yourself while i watch you, and you want me to tell you what to do. you want me to look at you as you make yourself feel good, as you come apart for me.”
azzi whined, hips bucking up again at the dirty words. it was humiliating, embarrassingly so, being so vulnerable and hearing the filthy statements slip from paige’s lips. and it was sexy.
“say it.”
“i want to touch myself,” azzi pleaded, clit pulsing.
“ask me for it.”
“please, i want to touch myself.”
“better.”
“please, paige, can i touch myself? i want it so badly."
“beg.”
“oh fuck,” azzi moaned, something inside of her her snapping, “please, please, please, let me touch myself. please, i want to fuck myself so badly, i want to be good for you, i want you to tell me what to do, please.”
“fucking do it, then,” paige ordered, almost annoyed. azzi’s hand shot to her entrance, her fingers immediately covered in slick, and she moaned wantonly. she pressed a finger to her clit, wasting no time starting to circle it and press down.
“fuck,” she gasped, eyes rolling back in her head. finally being able to touch felt euphoric, and she practically swooned.
“that’s it,” paige muttered appreciatively, “so good for me.”
the praise had azzi pressing a little harder, working herself a little faster. the knowledge that paige was watching her, watching her wrist disappear into herself, watching the look on her face and the rise and fall of her chest– fuck.
“how does that feel, pretty?”
azzi nodded. “really fucking good,” she said breathlessly.
“perfect,” paige purred. “how fast do you think you can get yourself to the edge for me?”
azzi choked. she thought about it for a millisecond, thought of how badly she needed it, how good the pressure felt, how exposed she was and how hot it was.
“very,” she answered honestly.
paige laughed at her again, and she keened. “’course you can. fucking slut.”
azzi let out a strangled moan, touching herself even faster. pleasure shot through her body in a heavy pulse.
“you wanna get there for me? want to make yourself feel so fucking good?”
azzi was certainly not going to complain. “yeah,” she breathed, voice high pitched.
“go on, then.”
azzi slowed down for a moment, gathering more wetness on her fingers and adjusting her angle. she gave herself a slow circle to accommodate, and when that felt good she sped up fast.
“harder.”
she choked, pressing down more, clit so fucking sensitive from weeks of unuse. she found a delicious rhythm, working herself and mindlessly chasing her pleasure.
“good girl,” paige praised, “look at you.”
the fucking words were so good, and azzi felt her face heating up as the deep well of pleasure swelled within her. her fingers started to feel better, and better, and before she knew it she was riding the edge.
“i’m close,” she choked out, warmth flooding her body.
paige let her continue for a little bit, watching in silence. then, suddenly– “stop. hands off.”
azzi ripped her hands away from herself like they weren’t her own, whimpering at the loss of contact. she felt the residual buzz in her system, clit still pulsing and wetness dripping down onto the sheets. why, she wanted to ask, i was almost there. but that would be questioning paige, so she kept her mouth shut.
“touch again.”
she inhaled sharply, moving her hand back to her heat.
“stop,” paige ordered before she had the chance to make contact. she exhaled, strangled. “what do you say?”
“can i please touch myself?” azzi echoed her words from earlier.
“no. try again.”
“just please?”
“no. i’m letting you touch yourself. what do you say?”
“thank you,” azzi breathed, and paige nodded.
“good, baby. now touch.”
“thank you,” azzi repeated, and began to circle her clit again. fuck. she was so turned on that it took her no time at all to get back to the edge, moans spilling from her lips.
her cries began to get louder, eyes squeezing shut, and she desperately maintained her rhythm.
“stop.”
with a shuddering gasp, she stilled her movements. “thank you.”
“touch.”
“thank you,” she keened, speeding back up.
“stop.”
azzi whined, feeling tears start to prick at the corners of her eyes. she wanted it so fucking badly that it was overwhelming her, chest heaving at the sensitive touch. “thank you,” she gasped obediently, against her will, “please, can i have more?”
paige hummed in acknowledgement. “you want more, pretty girl?”
“yes, i want more. i want more,” azzi said stupidly, nodding.
“want me inside of you?”
“yes, fuck, yes, please,” azzi begged, her entrance clenching in anticipation. “need your fingers, need your strap, please.”
“mmm,” paige hummed, “you sound so fucking good, begging me like this. asking me so nicely.”
“i’m good,” azzi repeated, “i’m so good for you.”
“you are,” paige agreed, “i think you deserve it.”
azzi exhaled in relief, heart speeding up.
“do you think you deserve it?” paige pushed, and azzi wanted to scream.
“only if you think i do.”
“you do,” paige shrugged. “okay, baby. want you to put a finger in for me.”
there was no resistance. azzi’s middle finger sank right into herself, wet and hot and deep.
she inhaled sharply. “thank you.”
“that’s it,” paige muttered encouragingly. “you can move.”
“how?”
“work yourself up, pretty. just make it feel good.”
didn’t have to tell azzi twice. she fucked her finger inside, up to the knuckle. she was so turned on that she could barely feel it inside of her, and she pressed it in faster, deeper. the squelching sounds of it echoed through the room, and she heard paige’s breath catch in her throat.
“fuck, baby,” the blonde woman groaned, “look so fucking good. taking it so well for me.”
azzi nodded her head mindlessly. “thank you.”
“do you think you can take another?”
“yeah,” azzi breathed.
“go ahead, baby,” paige said, a tinge softer.
“thank you,” azzi whispered, prodding at her entrance with a second finger. she slipped it in, this one stretching her out more, and she groaned. she sank it down to the knuckle as well, then froze. “can i go?”
“yes, pretty.”
“thank you,” azzi sighed, working the two fingers in and out.
“how does that feel? okay?”
“really good.”
“so perfect for me,” paige murmured, “taking my fingers nice and deep. feeling so good for me. look at you.”
azzi inhaled, building a rhythm. her fingers reached a little deeper, fucked in a little harder. again, the sounds filled the room, absolutely filthy. the pleasure overtook her as she again thought about paige watching her, telling her exactly how to get off. paige could do anything she fucking wanted to azzi, and azzi would love it.
“c’mon,” paige whispered, encouraging. “curl ‘em for me.”
azzi crooked her fingers and gasped. “oh, fuck,” she moaned.
“yeah?”
“yeah, yeah, right there,” azzi gasped, hitting the spot repeatedly.
“little faster for me.”
“fuck, paige, oh, please, it feels so fucking good,” azzi babbled, relentlessly driving into herself.
“yeah? you love fucking yourself for me? love how my fingers make you feel?” paige praised.
“oh, god,” azzi gasped. a deep pressure built up inside her, scalding hot and all-consuming. her wrist began to ache with the motion, hips canting up to chase the pleasure. “i’m gonna–”
“you want to?”
“so bad.”
“free hand on your throat,” paige ordered. the command hit azzi like a ton of bricks, and her hand shot to her neck. “choke yourself.”
she squeezed, and her mouth fell open in ecstasy. she was the picture of submission, orgasm swelling within her fast and sharp like a balloon ready to burst. “please, i’m gonna–”
“fucking cum for me baby, cum all over your fucking fingers and make a fucking mess for me.”
azzi moaned loudly, palm slapping against her clit, and the pressure in her released in one big gush as she squirted all over the bedsheets.
“fuck,” she cried out, thighs trembling as she rocked herself through it. paige continued to whisper sweet nothings to her, riding out the aftershocks as she finally relaxed.
when it was over, she withdrew her fingers and lay boneless on the bed, eyes closed.
“feel better?” her girlfriend laughed, stupidly light and adorable.
azzi hummed again.
“was everything okay?”
“mhm.”
“get some water, mami,” paige reminded her, and azzi sighed. now paige was talkative. she felt around on her nightstand for her half-full bottle, taking a sip of it.
they fell into a relaxed silence for a minute, azzi breathing deeply and coming down. “i’ll come see you soon, baby,” paige promised, “and we can cuddle after sex and it’ll be awesome.”
“okay,” azzi said, still feeling a little floaty.
“and i can bring the strap, and we can rewatch the hunger games afterwards.”
“okay.”
“and then i’ll clean you up nice and good, and you can take a nap on me like you like to do, and i’ll play with your hair and scratch your back how you like it too.”
azzi flushed. “okay.”
paige blew her a kiss through the receiver. “i love you.”
“love you,” azzi smiled, and the sentiment resounded in her chest. she felt so nice, relaxed and tired, and she curled up into a ball on her side. nap now. exhausted.
“i’ll see you soon,” paige whispered, taking the hint.
“see you soon,” azzi mumbled, drifting off to rest.
Synopsis: Azzi can't sleep. She calls Paige. X-rated things happen. Or, in other words, the phone sex fic
Notes: this was very much awaited by a few of you, so i hope you enjoy. as always, PLEASE tell me what you think, it's very much appreciated
Azzi lies awake in her bed, the thick, humid air of early July making the tiny hairs on the back of her neck stick there with sweat. She glances over at the half-packed suitcase on her floor. Her flight to Dallas leaves early tomorrow morning, and she should probably get to sleep, but the excitement of being temporarily finished with grueling conditioning, mixed with the fact that she gets to surprise her girlfriend at her game tomorrow, is keeping her wide awake. And even though she gets to see Paige less than 24 hours from now, Azzi finds herself reaching over, grabbing her phone, and hitting Paige’s contact on FaceTime.
It takes Paige not even two rings for her to answer her call, her face flooding Azzi’s phone screen. It’s later in Dallas, and you can tell. The only amount of light in the room coming from Paige’s phone. She’s also lying in bed, strands of blonde hair falling out of her bun to frame her face. Azzi rolls over, propping her phone up against the water bottle on her nightstand. Paige looks soft like this. Sweet Azzi thinks.
There’s a beat before either girl says anything. Paige speaks up first, “Hey baby, I missed you. Whatcha callin’ for?” she says, voice light and airy.
Azzi sighs, shifting uncomfortably under the covers. God, this heat is really getting to her. “I just couldn’t sleep. Too hot.”
“Yeah, you are,” Paige quips, waggling her eyebrows as a small smirk forms on her lips.
“Paige,” Azzi whines, annoyed.
“What? I’m just stating the obvious,” Paige replies snidely. She opens her mouth to continue her teasing until Azzi shuffles on screen, wiggling out of her already tiny pajama shorts, leaving her bottom half bare. And that shuts Paige up. When she sees Azzi slipping back under the covers, Paige speaks up again, “Wait, what are you doing?”
Azzi gives Paige a questioning look, “Taking my shorts off…? I told you I was too warm.”
“Yeah, but why are you getting back under the covers? I don’t get to see?” Paige asks in mock innocence.
“I didn’t know you wanted to see,” Azzi replies, pushing the covers off her legs, angling herself in such a way to the camera, giving Paige a better view of her naked lower half.
Paige sucks in a breath at the sight trying to keep her composure, “I always wanna see.”
Azzi hums in response to Paige’s statement. Her hands coming to rest on her bare thighs. “So, you want me to just lie here or…?”
“What do you wanna do, baby?” Paige asks, voice coming out more raw than she anticipated.
“Well, first, I think it’s only logical that you take something off, too. It has to be hotter down in Dallas than here,” Azzi suggests before continuing, “Shirt. Off.”
Paige smirks and obliges, pulling her old UConn T-shirt over her head, revealing taut lines of her abs and bare chest. She repositions herself in front of her phone to give Azzi a better view. “What are you thinkin’?” Paige asks, voice barely above a whisper.
“I’m wishing I were with you right now. I wish I could kiss you, touch you, taste you, feel you…” Azzi's response trails off, knowing that her wish would become a reality in a matter of hours.
Something in Paige’s gaze changes before she speaks again, “Ion’ know… I can maybe think of something of a compromise…”
Azzi immediately understands what Paige is implying. However, she raises a brow in slight mock confusion anyway—playing along, “And what might that be…?” she asks suggestively.
“I wanna watch you touch yourself,” Paige whispers bluntly.
Azzi’s breath picks up at Paige’s response, “Yeah? How so? Tell me what to do.”
“Reach under your shirt f’me, play with your tits,” Paige instructs softly.
Azzi does as she’s told. Her hands slowly trail upward under her shirt until they meet her breasts. Rolling both nipples between two fingers she sucks in a breath, eyes fluttering closed momentarily.
Paige hums in approval, grabbing her phone off the nightstand where it was resting to give herself a better look, “Good, keep doing that. Gotta get you all warmed up first.”
Azzi continues to ghost her hands up and down her torso, as Paige watches on the other line. After what feels like a near eon to Azzi, she drags the pads of her fingers over her nipples once more, forcing herself to suppress a whimper—instead a small “Shit” escapes her lips.
Picking up on Azzi’s sounds, Paige begins again, “It’s okay baby, I wanna hear you, be loud for me.”
With that, Azzi lets out a frustrated breath, “Please, Paige. I need my fingers, please.”
Hearing Azzi beg to touch herself causes heat to pool low, between Paige’s legs. “Go ahead, baby.”
It takes Azzi no further instruction for her to immediately bring her hand down her center, pressing two fingers against her clit, letting a low moan slip from her lips. Fingers then moving in slow, tight circles around her bud.
The sight has Paige’s boxers soaked in a matter of minutes. Setting her phone down on her stomach, Paige hooks her fingers into the waistband of her sweats, pulling both them and her underwear off, kicking them to the foot of her bed.
Paige picks her phone back up to see Azzi, lying on her back, eyes closed, right hand moving in controlled circles between her legs. “Fuck, Az. Look at you, doing so good f’me,” Paige groans, her own hand slipping down between her thighs to drag a finger through her wet folds.
At Paige’s words, Azzi opens her eyes and looks over to her phone, still perched on her bedside table against her water bottle. She sees the way Paige's face has contorted, brows knitted, mouth slightly agape, and instantly clues in to what the older girl must also be doing out of the view of the camera. “Fuck—Paige. I—I wanna see you. I wanna see you finger yourself,” Azzi gasps out as she finally lets herself slip her fingers inside her core.
Paige doesn’t have a response for Azzi’s request. Without another thought, she finds herself flipping the camera to capture her fingers sliding in and out of her core, the two digits becoming more covered in her slick with each thrust. “Shit—this is what you do to me Az.”
“Yeah, that’s it,” Azzi drags out. She silently hopes to herself that her and her phone’s volume are both quiet enough for her roommates not to hear. The last thing she wants is for Ice to confront her tomorrow morning about still “hearing Paige’s moans even when she’s in Dallas.”
Azzi’s free hand comes to glide along her tits again, and the sensation combined with the sounds coming from her phone speaker have her very quickly barrelling towards the edge. “Ah—Paige. Fuck, I’m close.”
At this point, Paige is fully entranced with the sight on her screen. She can see all of Azzi. The way Azzi’s mouth is ajar, breathing frantic coming out in short gasps, her hand palming her boobs, Azzi fucking herself with her fingers. And all of it combined is almost too much for Paige to handle, bringing her to the brink of her climax concerningly quick. “God, me too, Az,” Paige gasps, flipping the camera once more, allowing Azzi to see her face again.
Azzi lets out a whimper, tethering on the edge, she brings her hand away from her tits and presses the heel of it into her clit. And with one roll of her hips she’s tumbling over the edge. A wave of pleasure crashing over her, she lets out a moan that’s borderline pornographic—no—definitely pornographic. The obscenity of the sound being what pushes Paige to her climax as well, camera work becoming shaky, hips shuttering.
The pair both let out matching groans as they come down from their highs together. Azzi rolls over, pulling the covers over her, looking at her phone, she sees Paige—face flushed, hair disheveled, a laugh escaping her lips. “That was better than I’d thought it be.”
“You’ve thought about having phone sex?” Paige asks jokingly.
“Shut up. You look more fucked out than I do. Someone definitely enjoyed themselves.”
“Yeah, yeah, still not better than the real thing though. Man, I wish you were here.”
“Sometimes things have their own way of working themselves out,” Azzi says vaguely.
Paige sits up a little at what Azzi said, “Wait, whatcha mean by that?” she questions.
Azzi reaches over for her phone, laughing, “Goodnight, Paige.”
“I—goodnight. Love you,” Paige responds suspiciously.
“Love you too, Paigey,” Azzi replies before hanging up the call, snuggling farther into the covers.
As Paige’s screen goes dark, she sits there in silence for a moment, her mind hung up on what Azzi had said. Then deciding to not waste anymore energy on what her girlfriend had meant, Paige shuffles her way fully under the covers, letting sleep take her away.
Azzi walks along the floor of the College Park Center, finding her seat in the middle of the courtside row beside Maddy’s mom. The game’s tip off is soon, teams still retreated to their locker rooms after warm ups.
Azzi’s flight had gotten in early evening, Dallas time and she’d let herself into Paige’s apartment with the key she’d given her in May to drop her things off knowing Paige would be at the arena already.
She settles into her seat just as the Wings players are running through the tunnel. Her head snaps up, instantly locking eyes with a particular blonde. Paige looks shocked to say the least, but also lighter, less tense than she’d seemed in the last game. A smirk starts to form on the older girl’s face.
And Azzi “wonders” what Paige did to help release that tension between the previous game and now.
paige created the account her junior year of college—mainly because she thought it would be funny, and a little bit because nika said no one would ever follow her and she’d get 0 views per video.
so, partially-fueled by her innate need to prove nika wrong at any given moment, she made the account. she named it pb.asmr—after herself, of course—and posted her very first video the same day.
it got 26 views the first week. nika laughed for five minutes straight when she found out. but it wasn’t zero.
and the account actually grew, slowly at first, and then all at once after she posted a video of her messing around with a basketball. she kept posting mostly because nika kept checking the view count and sending her screenshots with increasingly rude commentary about how she’d never make it big in the asmr world, and paige found that more motivating than she wanted to admit.
by the time junior year became senior year she had a few thousand followers, which felt a little bit absurd for something she’d started out of spite on a tuesday afternoon, but she wasn’t complaining.
it became a hobby of sorts, a way to procrastinate when she had a project due the next day, and sometimes even a way to complete her assignments. she’d film herself fidgeting with the surplus of fidget toys she’d accumulated from events around campus, all of the videos artistically cropping her face out, sometimes filmed while she was half locked-in on whatever she was working on at the time.
nika stopped laughing about it around the three thousand follower mark. she didn’t say anything about it, but she did stop sending the screenshots.
paige found that even more motivating.
and then she graduated, moved to dallas for the job she’d wanted since her third year internship, but she kept posting when she felt like it. which was less often now that she had actual responsibilities and an actual salary and an apartment that wasn’t shared with three other people, but with the same amount of effort put in—none. the account ticked along, people kept following, she still thought it was funny.
she still thinks it’s funny.
sometimes, she’ll send nika a screenshot of a video that does particularly well. they don’t talk as much as they used to in college—both of them busy with their jobs, living in different states—but nika always responds. sometimes with an eye roll, sometimes with a WHO is watching these, then with whatever she’s been up to for the day. nowadays, it’s become less about the dumb bet they made and more of an opening to catch up.
she's in bed when the notification comes in, phone already in hand, a screenshot of her latest video pulled up and ready to send to nika. the video had done well, maybe slightly better than usual, and she'd been mildly pleased about it, the way she's always mildly pleased when the account does well. it’s a nice little ego boost after a long day of clients telling her all her hard work sucks.
she opens the app to check the comments before she sends the screenshot.
there are more than usual, the same mix of stickers and snoring emojis, and this helped me so much and your hands omg that she's learned to scroll past. but one in the mix of them stops her.
If you take requests could you do more of the pop-it thing :)
she almost scrolls past it, because no, she doesn’t usually take requests, but the profile picture catches her eye.
a girl (a lady? a woman?) smiling at the camera, one deep dimple showing, and holding a dog wearing a pink sweater in her arms. the girl is pretty—really pretty, and the dog is cute. she clicks the account.
it’s private, but there’s a bio.
23 | 🌈☀️|📍dallas
dallas.
paige lives in dallas.
but more importantly, gay?
paige knows that sometimes a rainbow in a bio doesn’t mean gay. maybe azzi35 just likes rainbows and sunshine like a lot of people do. but there’s nothing wrong with having a little hope.
she screenshots the profile before replying, I gotchu dw :), and sends the screenshot to kk, not nika. if nika knew she was cyberstalking her asmr account’s followers she’d never hear the end of it.
Paige: Look
Paige: Isn’t she so pretty
Kk: yeah bro
Kk: who is this??
Paige: Idk
Paige: She commented on my tiktok
Kk: oh shiiiit the thirst traps finally paid off lol
Kk: shoot your shot
first of all, the tiktoks paige posts on her personal account are not thirst traps. they are deep, raw, expressions of her inner self, curated in front of a mirror, with a sexy song playing in the background. it’s artistic.
god, she wishes azzi35 commented on one of her thirst traps.
Paige: Bruh
Paige: No she commented on my stupid asmr tiktok
Kk: 😂😂😂😂
Kk: u can still slide in her dms tho right?
Paige: From my asmr account???
Kk: ye
Paige: Nah that’s crazy
Kk: well wtf are u going to do abt it then
Paige: Bro idk
Paige: Make her an asmr vid ig 😂
Kk: man this is why you’re still single
Paige: 🖕🏻
—---------
paige really does like her job. she has a ton of down time, all her coworkers love her, she makes bank, and she gets to be somewhat creative within the restrictions of what her clients want.
today is wednesday, and instead of being trapped in a stuffy office, she’s sitting at the cute little cafe she normally works at during the week. the sun is warming her skin through the windows, her coffee was delicious and the empty mug now sits as a stand for her phone, and her pop-it is being popped in one hand as she changes the accent colors of a website she’s been working on from sad blue to cheerful blue, per the client’s request.
the pop-it is a new-old toy she’d found while cleaning out a suitcase before a trip. a gift from her freshman-year roommate evina—the first friend she made in college and the first person she came out to. she remembers her voice wavering as she said it, the tight squeeze of the hug that followed, and evina telling her, “paige, this is art school. everyone’s gay, don’t worry.”
the next day evina came back to their cramped dorm, tossed the small toy at her head, and told her she got it from the lgbtq+ center on campus. then, she dragged paige out of bed to take her there.
she glances at her phone to make sure it’s still recording as she flips the pop-it over—yes, almost five minutes of footage so far. at around ten or fifteen, she’ll stop the video and post it. the thing about the asmr videos that she doesn't say out loud is they're actually kind of relaxing to make. there's something meditative about it, the repetitive motion, the small sounds, the fact that no one is asking her to change anything from sad to cheerful. she can film a video all in one go and just hit post, and no one complains. in fact, they like it.
she's watching the pop-it and not the door when kk drops into the chair next to her.
"wassup–"
paige startles hard enough that she slams her elbow on the table, shaking the mug and her phone. she grabs the mug before it tips off the side, but her phone slides down and lands flat on the table.
"bro," paige says, setting the mug back down and glaring at kk.
kk is in her scrubs—pale blue today with small paw prints patterned on. she drops her tote bag on the floor and looks at the phone, then at paige, then back at the phone.
"were you filming?"
"yeah," paige says. "i was filming."
"oh." she picks up paige’s phone, waving at the camera before pausing the recording. "my bad."
"kk."
"what, i said my bad."
paige snatches her phone back and checks the timestamp. seven minutes and twenty seconds. fine. that's fine actually, she can work with that.
"you stank like a horse," she says, without looking up.
"what?" kk straightens immediately, pulling the collar of her scrubs to her nose. "i literally didn't even–we don't have any horses at the clinic, paige, what are you–"
she stops once she sees paige trying to hide her smile.
"you're so annoying," kk says, rolling her eyes.
"you were sooo ready to defend yourself," paige says. "from horse accusations."
"i hate you." kk grabs her coffee mug, looking for a sip but it’s empty. she puts it down, leaning back in her chair to check how long the line at the counter is. the cafe is pretty popular, so she’s out of luck. "what were you filming, the asmr thing?" she asks, waiting for the line to clear.
"yeah."
"for the cute girl?"
"yeah."
kk looks at her for a moment with a look that means she thinks paige is being an idiot. it’s a common look between them. "bro. you literally filmed a ten minute video for someone you don't know based on a profile pic."
"it's not–i told her i would, i’m a woman of my word, kk."
"no, you’re just gay and stup–" kk stops, shakes her head. "okay, whatever. i came to tell you i can't make it to basketball tomorrow. my mom's visiting."
paige looks up. "just bring her."
"she can't play basketball."
"she doesn't have to play, she can watch."
"p, i'm not bringing my mom to basketball."
"bruh, then how’re we gonna win."
"caroline will be there."
"caroline is not you."
"thank you." kk doesn't look touched. in fact, she’s not even looking at paige anymore, she’s squinting at the menu behind the counter, even though she’s been here enough times to have it memorized. "carol said she's bringing her work friend too. apparently she played in high school. so you'll have someone new to destroy."
"i don't destroy people," paige says. she does, but one of her new year’s goals is to be more humble.
kk looks at her.
"i play competitively," paige says. "there's a difference."
kk stands up to go order, and paige turns back to her phone. she crops the ending out of the video, uploads it to tiktok and types keyboard and pop it asmr in the caption. her thumb hovers over the continue button. should she tag azzi35 in the caption? or would that be…weird? she just wants to make sure she sees it.
kk comes back with a tall iced latte and drops back into her chair. she nods at paige's phone. "you post it?"
"not yet." paige turns the phone toward her. "should i tag her in the caption?"
kk looks at the screen, and hums before coming to a decision. "yeah, do it."
"i don't know though."
"paige."
"what?"
"bro." kk sets her drink down. "you won't slide in her dms. you won't talk to her. you literally filmed a video for her and now you won't even tag her in it. what's the point then?"
"i'm going to post it. she'll see it."
"if she's following you."
"nah she’s definitely following, i checked."
kk shrugs. "then tag her."
paige looks at the caption. keyboard and pop it asmr. her thumb is still hovering. "isn't it a bit much though? like she asked for a video and i made her a video. tagging her is like–"
"like what."
"i don't know. like a lot, i guess."
kk stares at her. "you think she's cute."
"i don't know anything about her," paige says. "like what if she's in a relationship. or she–" she stops.
"she what."
paige puts her phone face down on the table. "what if she thinks it’s…weird? or creepy, or, i mean like, she doesn’t know anything about me too. i’m an asmr account.”
kk is quiet for a second, swirling her plastic cup, the ice clinking together—it would actually make for a pretty decent asmr video. paige will have to remember that one.
"okay," kk says finally. "yeah, fair enough."
"right?"
"i mean." kk picks up her coffee. "it's up to you. but you think she's cute, and she’s maybe gay and she lives in dallas. and you’re definitely gay and you live in dallas, so..."
"but she doesn’t know that."
"yeah, okay, i guess," kk says, giving up easily. "hey, maybe you’ll run into her somewhere and y’all will hit it off," she adds, laughing.
paige ignores her and picks her phone back up. she deletes keyboard and pop it asmr and retypes it, exactly the same. her thumb hits post, no tag.
she puts her phone in her bag.
"i gotta get back," kk says, standing up and grabbing her tote. she squeezes paige's shoulder once on her way past. "thursday's gonna be fine. carol's friend played in high school, she'll be good."
"yeah," paige says, watching her leave, then glances at her laptop.
“wait, wait!” she calls, stopping kk in her tracks. “come look at this and tell me which one’s better.”
she turns her laptop towards her, the project she’s been working on with her client’s feedback versus her original idea on the screen. kk leans down, brows furrowed as she assesses both options.
after thirty seconds of careful scanning; “i think i like the left one more.”
paige knew her version was better, but it’s still nice to hear. “thank you,” she sighs, and kk pats her head in consolation as she slumps down her chair.
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It starts with a ring with a heart that can face in or out, and turns into a question neither of them dares to ask. Over the years, it becomes the only way they admit what they feel until Azzi and Paige finally stop needing it to speak for them.
Word Count: 15k words
Note:
This story is parallel to Stolen or Borrowed and I recommend reading that one first to understand the last scene.
November, 2018
"Az."
Azzi didn't look up from her phone, even though Paige had already said her name more than once.
"Azzi," Paige tried again, a little more pointed this time. When that still didn't get a reaction, she sighed loudly and leaned closer to her camera. "Azzi Fudd, if you ignore me one more time, I am hanging up and you can go be boring by yourself."
That finally did it.
Azzi lifted her eyes to the screen with a quiet huff, her expression unimpressed. "I am not ignoring you, I just had to answer a few messages, but I am listening."
Paige immediately narrowed her eyes, leaning in like she was inspecting her. "Oh yeah? Then what did I just say?"
Azzi blinked once. "Something… unimportant."
Paige's mouth fell open in exaggerated offense. "Wow, that's actually insane. I just poured my heart out to you and that's what you give me?"
"I am pretty sure you were talking about your sandwich still," Azzi said flatly.
"It was a good sandwich," Paige shot back, then grinned, clearly pleased with herself. "Also, you weren't listening, I was talking about basketball. I switched over like 2 minutes ago."
"Whatever," Azzi rolled her eyes and leaned back against her pillows.
Paige tilted her head, studying her now, the teasing disappearing just slightly. "You are tired."
Azzi shrugged, shifting on her bed and pulling one knee up, the sleeves of her hoodie bunching around her wrists. "Practice ran long."
"Yeah," Paige said easily. "I can tell. You are doing that thing again."
Azzi glanced at her. "What thing?"
Paige made a vague motion with her hand, like she was trying to pull the words out of the air. "The one where you pretend you are fine, but you get all quiet and…" she paused, squinting slightly, "...sulky."
"I am not sulking," Azzi muttered.
Paige raised an eyebrow. "You were literally mean to me for loving my sandwich a minute ago."
"That was valid."
Paige laughed and Azzi felt something in her chest loosen a little. She looked away from the screen for a second, mostly so Paige wouldn't catch that.
From downstairs, her mom's voice carried up through the house.
"Azzi! Dinner!"
Azzi closed her eyes briefly, letting her head fall back against the wall. There it was.
Paige noticed the shift immediately. "Uh oh."
"I don't want to go," Azzi admitted quietly.
Paige's expression softened, though there was still a hint of amusement at the corner of her mouth. "It's your birthday dinner."
"I know," Azzi said, dragging a hand over her face. "That's exactly why I don't want to go."
Paige grinned at her. "You are so dramatic."
"I am not," Azzi said, even though she knew she sounded like she was. "It's just going to be loud. And everyone is going to be… a lot."
"Your family is always a lot," Paige said.
"Exactly."
"And you love them."
Azzi hesitated for a second. "…I really do."
Paige smiled at that, like she had been waiting for Azzi catch up with her thoughts. "There you go."
Azzi rolled her eyes, but there was no real annoyance behind it now. "That doesn't make it less loud."
"No," Paige admitted. "But it does make it kind of worth it."
Azzi didn't answer right away. Instead, she picked at a loose thread on her sleeve, basically Paige's, her phone now propped against her knee so she didn't have to hold it.
Paige watched her quietly for a moment, then shifted closer to her camera, resting her chin in her hand.
"Hey," she said, softer this time.
Azzi looked back at her.
"You can call me after," Paige continued. "Like immediately after. You can complain about everything, I will let you be as sulky as you want."
Azzi's mouth twitched. "You already do, P."
"Yeah, but this time it will be encouraged," Paige said. "Full rant, no interruptions. I will even agree with you."
"That doesn't sound like you."
"Fine," Paige grinned. "I will try my best."
Azzi huffed out a small laugh, her shoulders relaxing a little more.
"And," Paige continued, like she wasn't done yet, "we can watch something after. You can pick, even if it's boring."
"It won't be boring. I have good taste."
Paige gave her a look. "It will absolutely be boring."
"Then don't watch it with me."
"I will watch it with you," Paige said immediately. "I will just complain the whole time."
Azzi shook her head, but she was fully smiling now.
There was a small pause, not uncomfortable, just a bit intense. Paige looked like she wanted to say something else, then didn't. Instead, she just smiled at Azzi softer than before.
"Go," Paige said. "Before your mom comes upstairs and drags you down."
"She would," Azzi muttered. "Or worst, send my brothers."
"I know," Paige said easily. "Text me when you are done?"
"I will call."
Paige's smile widened just slightly at that. "Yeah," she said. "Just call me."
Azzi hesitated for half a second before reaching for the screen.
"Az?"
She paused.
"What?"
Paige tilted her head, studying her for just a moment longer.
"Happy birthday, princess."
Azzi blinked, caught off guard just enough that she didn't have a response ready right away.
"…Thanks, P, " she said finally.
Paige smiled at her, then the screen went dark.
Azzi stayed where she was for a moment longer staring at her own reflection where Paige had just been. When her mom called her again, she grabbed her phone and headed for the door.
By the time Azzi got downstairs, the kitchen was already full. One of her uncles was talking over her grandma. Her brothers were arguing about something stupid that had probably started as a joke and turned into a competition, and her dad was pretending to mediate it in the loudest possible way. Her mom was trying to get the food onto the table, and her grandpa looked completely delighted by all of it, like the chaos was half the point.
That was just how it worked when the Fudds were together.
Nobody believed in taking turns or let a sentence end before speaking again. A family celebration meant shouting, teasing, people reaching across each other, everyone trying to be funnier or louder or more dramatic than the last person.
Azzi loved them, but most of the time she also just wanted to retreat to her own quiet room and stay there until everyone calmed down.
It was her family though, too much all the time but still full of love.
Azzi had only just managed to sit down to her favourite spot at the table when her grandpa sit down next to her and leaned closer. Out of nowhere, he pushed a small velvet box toward her.
Azzi looked at him curiously but she picked the box up, turning it once in her hand. He smiled at her and nodded for Azzi to open it, so she did.
The ring inside the box made her pause.
It did not look completely new but it was clearly cleaned and polished. It looked like it had a history. Two silver hands held a heart, with a tiny crown resting on top, and the whole thing had that strange balance of being delicate without looking fragile.
Azzi lifted it carefully out of the box and turned it between her fingers, watching the light catch on the metal.
"It's really beautiful, Papa," Azzi said quietly.
Her grandpa leaned forward slightly, clearly pleased. "It's a Claddagh ring, honey bun. It used to be my mother's and it is now time to be yours."
Azzi looked at him gratefully while waiting for the rest of its story.
"It's a traditional Irish ring. The hands stand for friendship," he explained, pointing lightly toward them. "The heart stands for love. And the crown stands for loyalty."
Azzi's thumb brushed over the little heart while he spoke.
Friendship. Love. Loyalty.
Those words seemed simple on their own. Together, they felt heavier.
"And how you wear it has a meaning," her grandpa continued. "If you wear it with the heart facing out, it means your heart is still your own. Turn it inward, and it means your heart belongs to someone."
Azzi looked down at the ring again, suddenly much more aware of it in her hand.
Your heart belongs to someone.
And then, because apparently her brain had decided this was the perfect moment to be annoying, one name appeared there immediately.
Paige.
Azzi frowned faintly, shifting in her seat.
That made no sense. Paige was just Paige.
Paige was loud and nosy and always somehow exactly where Azzi was, whether she had been invited or not. Paige texted like she had never once considered that other people might sometimes want peace.
She said things that made Azzi roll her eyes in the moment and then think about them later, which was honestly its own kind of irritating.
But Paige was also funny when she was not trying too hard. Sweet when she wanted to be, annoying on purpose about half the time. And somehow impossible to ignore even when Azzi was actively trying to do exactly that.
That still did not have to mean anything.
Paige just got under her skin in ways Azzi did not have a good explanation for. But that was just because they were close. That was normal, that didn't automatically make it something else.
That was just what best friends did.
They were close and intense and involved in each other's lives and yes, it probably looked strange from the outside, but that did not mean anything had to be weird.
Azzi pressed her lips together and looked back down at the ring, trying to push her thoughts somewhere safer before they wandered off in a direction she definitely did not want them going.
She exhaled slowly and slid the ring onto her right hand, adjusting it until the heart was facing out.
Single.
That felt right or at least it felt like something she did not need to think about too hard.
Later that night, when the house had finally quieted down, Azzi slipped back into her room and closed the door behind her with a soft click.
The silence felt immediate and perfect. Finally no one was calling her name, no one was trying to drag her into another conversation she hadn't asked to be part of.
Azzi let out a slow breath and dropped back onto her bed, staring up at the ceiling for a moment.
Then she reached for her phone. She didn't check her messages or scroll over her social media, Azzi just called.
Paige picked up on the second ring.
"I thought you forgot about me," Paige said immediately.
Azzi rolled onto her side, tucking her arm under her pillow. "You wouldn't let me do that."
"You are damn right," Paige said, shifting her phone around until her face settled into frame. "I was about to give you five more minutes and then send something too interesting to ignore."
"You know that does not work on me."
"Nah," Paige said easily, a grin tugging at her mouth, "this would have been extra interesting. You had no chance."
Azzi huffed out a quiet laugh, the leftover tension from the evening easing without her really noticing it.
"Did you survive?" Paige asked, settling in more comfortably on her end.
"Barely," Azzi said.
"That bad?"
"I don't even know, maybe not," Azzi muttered. "At some point the boys started arguing about who can dance better on one leg and then it escalated."
Paige nodded like that was a completely reasonable explanation, and it was for the Fudd's. "That does sound like your brothers."
Azzi smiled a little, turning her phone so it leaned against her water glass on the bedside table. It took her a second to get the angle right, adjusting it once, then again.
"Az," Paige said.
"What?"
"You look like a grandma trying to figure out FaceTime."
"I am not…" Azzi nudged the phone again, then leaned back satisfied. "It's fine."
Paige squinted at the screen. "You are like… only half in the frame."
"Good," Azzi said, pulling her blanket over her legs. "That's intentional. I don't want to be seen."
Paige laughed again and something about it made Azzi's chest feel lighter than it had been all evening.
"Okay, you big baby," Paige said after a moment, resting her chin in her hand, "how bad was it actually?"
Azzi shrugged, staring up at the ceiling for a second.
"It wasn't that bad."
Paige blinked. "What."
"Don't make it a thing."
"I am absolutely making it a thing," Paige said, sitting up a little straighter. "You just said your family birthday dinner wasn't bad."
"I said it wasn't that bad," Azzi corrected. "That's different."
"That's huge," Paige insisted. "You were literally sulking before you even went downstairs."
"I was mentally preparing."
Paige grinned. "You are such a princess."
"I am not!"
Paige didn't even argue this time. She just looked at her, smiling in that annoying, knowing way that made it feel like she had already decided she was right.
"What did you get?" she asked after a second.
Azzi shifted slightly, pulling the blanket higher. "Sneakers."
"What kind of sneakers?"
"A few Nike ones. One of them is pink, the other one is white."
"Sounds pretty nice," Paige said immediately.
Azzi hesitated for a fraction of a second. "…Yeah. They are nice."
Paige's smile widened like she had just won something. "I knew it. You had fun!"
"You didn't know anything."
"I know you," Paige said easily.
The way she said it made something in Azzi's stomach scramble. Maybe she just ate something bad...
"Any clothes?" Paige continued, completely unaware. "Anything good or was it all questionable?"
"My auntie actually got me a hoodie I like," Azzi admitted.
Paige gasped. "No way. Auntie Carol?"
"I know."
"That's actually impressive."
"It is," Azzi said, a little more amused now.
Paige nodded, then leaned a little closer to the camera. "What else?"
Azzi's fingers brushed absently against her right hand.
The ring caught the light and Azzi stilled. For a second, she considered mentioning it.
It would have been the easiest thing in the world to say, just another small detail from the night.
"…That's mostly it," Azzi said instead, lifting her gaze back to the screen.
Why didn't she say anything about it? It did not make any sense.
Paige was her best friend. Azzi told her everything. Small things, stupid things, things that didn't matter.
Paige knew what she ate half the time, knew when she was annoyed before Azzi said a word, knew how her practice went just by how she answered a text...
Paige would have liked the ring, probably would have asked a few follow-up questions and made some joke about it before turning weirdly sincere for half a second. That was what she always did, and still...
Azzi frowned faintly.
It was just a ring, it didn't matter.
"Okay," Paige said, holding up her remote. "Movie time."
Azzi shifted properly onto her side, tucking her pillow under her head and adjusting her phone again so Paige stayed in view.
"Wait," Paige added quickly. "We need to count down so we are totally in sync."
Azzi rolled her eyes. "Sure."
"Okay," Paige said, settling in. "On three."
"On three," Azzi echoed.
"One… One and a half…"
"Paige."
"What?"
"Just get to it.."
Paige grinned. "I am building anticipation."
"You are so annoying."
"You love it."
Azzi didn't answer that. She just pressed her lips together slightly and waited.
"Fine," Paige said. "One… two… three."
They hit play at the same time. For a few seconds, neither of them said anything. The opening of Love & Basketball filled the quiet, soft light flickering across Paige's face on the screen.
Paige went still almost immediately, her attention settling fully on the movie. Azzi watched her for a second instead of the movie, then she shifted slightly, settling deeper into her pillow.
Her hand moved again.
The ring.
Her thumb brushed over it, turning it just a fraction before stopping.
Friendship. Love. Loyalty.
The words came back to her.
Friendship.
That one was obvious. It didn't require any effort to understand, didn't make her second-guess herself. Paige fit there easily without the need for further explanation.
Even on the days Azzi told herself she needed space, she still ended up answering her messages, still picked up her calls, still let Paige in without really thinking about it.
Loyalty.
That could have been Paige's middle name instead of Madison because Paige didn't really know how to do things halfway. Once she decided she cared about someone, she showed up, even when she was being annoying about it. There was something reassuring in that, something Azzi had already started relying on without ever saying it out loud.
It was the third word that made her hesitate.
Love.
Azzi's thumb brushed lightly over the ring again, tracing the shape of it like that might make the meaning feel less… confusing.
Love didn't seem complicated in the movies. It looked easy there, obvious. Something people said out loud without overthinking it.
That wasn't how it felt in her head at 16 years old.
Not when the word love showed up in her mind together with a face of her best friend and attached itself to something she didn't fully understand.
Azzi twisted the ring slightly, then turned it back. Her gaze flicked to Paige again, still there focusing on their movie.
Azzi exhaled slowly, her shoulders sinking further into the bed.
Eventually, she would like someone for real. A boy, probably.
That was what made sense. That was what everybody assumed, and honestly she had never really had a reason to picture anything else. It just had not happened yet. Maybe because she was busy with basketball. Maybe because most boys her age were uninteresting and quite boring, unlike Paige.
Paige who could be both annoying and comforting at the same time, who still made her want to stay on the phone longer than she meant to.
Azzi pressed her lips together slightly and looked back at the screen, forcing her attention onto the movie again.
When it happens, she told herself, it would make more sense than this.
Her fingers curled loosely against the blanket, the ring resting back where it had been, heart facing out. She didn't touch it again, but she didn't stop thinking about it either. And when Paige laughed softly at something in the movie a few minutes later, Azzi smiled and shook her head.
Yeah, maybe she had a best friend who took up more space in her life than what was probably normal, but that still did not mean it had to be anything else.
She was only sixteen. She did not need to understand everything yet. She had plenty of time.
August, 2019
By the end of that summer, Azzi had stopped thinking of Paige being around as something temporary.
At some point, without a clear moment she could point to, it had shifted from seeing Paige a lot to simply expecting her to be there. Paige had settled into her life so completely that her absence would have felt more noticeable than her presence these days.
After her injury in April and everything that had come with it, the frustration, the loss of control, the humiliating moments where Azzi had needed help with things she hated needing help with, Paige had somehow decided that being present was no longer optional.
Paige had shown up through all of it, and then kept showing up and somewhere in the middle of all that, something had changed.
Not enough to name it, but enough that Azzi could no longer convince herself it was just an ordinary friendship with a little extra intensity.
Because best friends do not usually exist like Azzi and Paige did around each other.
They do not crawl into bed beside you when you are too tired to stay upright. They do not let you tuck yourself against them or become the first person you look for when something hurt. And they do not make everything feel both easier and more complicated at the same time.
Or maybe some did. Azzi honestly did not know anymore.
What she did know was that somewhere between spring and summer, between long visits and FaceTimes, and the kisses that had begun happening with an almost alarming naturalness, Paige had become something Azzi did not have a word for.
Paige was still Paige.
Still loud and distracting, incapable of leaving anything alone, especially Azzi. But now Azzi noticed things she wasn't supposed to notice this much if she was being honest with herself.
Paige always had a specific smile when she was pleased with herself. It was cheeky and a little smug, like she knew she was getting away with something.
Azzi also noticed that Paige always blushed a little after saying something more vulnerable than usual. As if she said something too much and she needed to check if Azzi had heard the part underneath the joke.
Paige also looked at Azzi when nobody else was paying attention. Somehow she always knew when Azzi needed something, even before her own family noticed. She always seemed to know when Azzi was tired before Azzi admitted it herself.
And then there were those times Paige would lean in way too close while talking and just stay there, close enough that Azzi could feel her breath on her face and get that stupid weird flutter in her stomach that she was absolutely not going to call butterflies.
It was irritating and not because the change was obvious, but because it wasn't.
If the change had felt bigger, something she could point to and say this is different, maybe it would have been easier to deal with.
Instead, it felt like the same friendship she had always known, only charged in places that used to feel harmless.
A look that lingered longer than it used to, a touch she remembered longer than it made sense. A kiss that made her heart stumble and then made her wonder why she had ever thought she could keep things simple.
And now…a shared tent during a Fudd family camping trip.
Azzi had thought about it far more than she wanted to admit.
The campsite itself was beautiful, the lake stretching out beyond the trees and catching the light in lazy silver flashes. The air was warm and pieceful, broken only by the occasional drift of voices from where her family had spread out across the site.
Her dad was working on the fire at the designated spot behind the tents, her brothers trying to help by gathering more wood, and her mom was attempting to organise the food before everyone got to it and ruined her structure.
Azzi had escaped with her book and a towel, intending to have an hour to herself by the dock before her mom inevitably called her back to help with dinner.
One hour of quiet, that had been the plan.
She had forgotten to account for Paige. And as always, barely 10 minutes later, Paige had found Azzi on the dock.
"I can't believe you enjoy sunbathing like this," Paige announced, dropping down beside her with a dramatic sigh that felt entirely unnecessary.
Azzi didn't look up, she had ignored Paige because encouraging her almost always made things worse.
For a few minutes, Paige entertained herself by humming under her breath, then by skipping pebbles into the lake and narrating them as though this had suddenly become a competition between the pebbles.
But then she started asking unnecessary questions about the book in Azzi's hands even though she clearly had no interest in the actual answer.
Azzi tried to stay patient, but patience with Paige was a fragile thing on the best of days, and it was even harder now when her friendship with Paige has gotten more confusing.
"Do you ever actually relax," Paige asked eventually, rolling onto her side so she could look at Azzi properly, "or do you just stare at books until people leave you alone?"
Azzi kept her eyes on the page, even though the words had stopped registering minutes ago. "That second one works better when the person bothering me understands hints."
Paige laughed, completely unbothered and Azzi looked up despite herself.
Paige's hair had fallen across her forehead, and she kept pushed it back absently, smiling at Azzi in that way that made her look stupidly pretty, like unfairly pretty, and it made something small and annoying twist under Azzi’s ribs. Definitely not butterflies.
"You love me," Paige said.
Azzi's grip tightened slightly on the edge of the page. The sentence started to feel differently these days in Azzi's head.
Because now she knew how it felt when Paige leaned in and didn't stop. When Paige's lips found hers and started moving so easy and sure. The faint taste of her cherry lip balm, the heat of her breath and that hint of mint that lingered every time they paused, only for a second, before Paige went right back in.
So now, when Paige said things like that, Azzi could not just brush them off the way she used to. They sank in too deeply, and she had to keep herself from letting her mind run off with them, from turning every little thing Paige said into something more than it was.
"I love peace and quiet. You should try helping me find some," Azzi said instead.
Azzi could feel Paige drifting closer without even looking up.
Paige had this way of ending up just inside her space, like personal boundaries were more of a loose suggestion she didn’t really care about. Azzi could feel her watching her now, and it made focusing on anything else pretty much impossible.
"You know, your family is all the way over there," Paige said quietly.
Azzi finally looked up at her again. What a mistake.
Paige was closer than she had realized, only a few inches away, braced on one elbow, her whole attention fixed on Azzi. Her gaze dipped, just for a second, to Azzi's mouth before sliding back up to her face, but it was enough. More than enough.
Azzi felt it like a jolt through her whole body, her breath catching before her brain could do anything useful with it.
"Paige," she said under her breath, sharper than she meant to.
Paige blinked, caught for a second, but not really apologetic. "What?"
Azzi let her eyes flick toward the shore, where her family was still loud and busy enough not to notice anything, but not far enough away to make this feel safe. Her pulse was already stupidly loud in her ears.
"Don't start."
It came out less like a refusal and more like a warning she was trying to make sound firmer than it was. Paige's mouth twitched, and Azzi could tell she had heard the difference too.
"I wasn't doing anything," all fake innocence and soft voice.
Paige leaned even closer now, so close that Azzi could see the little shift in her expression. Her attention didn't leave Azzi’s face for even a second.
The air between them felt charged, like one wrong move and it would snap. Paige held her gaze, calm and infuriating, like she knew Azzi was already halfway gone. Azzi had the sudden, overwhelming urge to shove her straight into the lake and kiss her at the same time.
That was the problem.
It wasn't just Paige pushing, Azzi wasn't exactly pulling away either.
Which made whatever this was feel way too close to slipping out of her control. Because if they had been alone, she knew with humiliating certainty that Paige would have kissed her already. And Azzi wouldn't have stopped her. She would have met her halfway, closed the space herself, and let everything else fall away.
But they were not alone.
And the thought of one of her brothers looking over at the wrong second, or her mom picking up on something later sent heat creeping up the back of her neck. Enough to snap her back into herself.
So Azzi dropped her gaze back to her book, like she was above it, like she wasn't seconds away from doing something incredibly stupid. Even though her heart was beating too fast to really make it convincing.
Then Paige went quiet.
A second later, Azzi felt the light brush of fingers against her hand, so soft she almost thought she had imagined it. Azzi looked down and found Paige staring at the silver ring on her right hand, her attention caught there with an almost maddening kind of focus.
"You never told me about this one," Paige said.
Azzi's chest tightened so fast it almost made her sit up. Her own reaction annoyed her immediately.
It was just a ring, not some huge, dramatic secret. And still, heat rushed straight to her face, which only made it worse, because now Paige was definitely going to notice it too.
"It's nothing," Azzi said, too quickly to sound convincing.
Paige's eyebrows lifted immediately, her attention sharpening with interest. "That is absolutely not a 'nothing' reaction."
Azzi tried to pull her hand back on instinct, but Paige's fingers followed just enough to keep the contact, resting against her skin.
And that only made it worse.
If Paige had laughed, if she had brushed it off or turned it into a joke, Azzi would have known exactly what to do. She could have deflected, rolled her eyes, made it irrelevant again.
But Paige wasn't joking, she was watching her. And Paige paying attention like that had quietly become one of the most dangerous things in Azzi's life.
"It's just from my grandpa," Azzi said, like that should have been enough to close the conversation.
Paige's gaze dropped back to the ring, her thumb brushing over it once. "Okay," she said, softer now, "and I can tell it means something. I will not force you to tell me, but I would love to hear about it. It sounds like it's important to you."
Azzi exhaled slowly through her nose and closed her book over one finger to keep her place, even though she hadn't actually been reading for a while. She could feel Paige beside her, waiting patiently.
That was part of what made Paige so impossible.
She had this way of locking onto things, like she could sense what mattered, and the second Azzi hesitated, Paige leaned in instead of backing off, especially when Azzi clearly wanted to hide it. But she also know how to do it in a way that Azzi actually wanted to suddenly share it with her.
"It's a Claddagh ring," Azzi said finally.
Paige didn't interrupt, she just shifted slightly, clearly settling in to listen properly. Azzi stared down at her own hand as she spoke, her thumb moving restlessly over the small silver heart and crown while she repeated what her grandfather had told her.
Friendship, love, loyalty.
Her voice stayed steadier than she felt as she explained how it was worn, the heart facing in or out, what each direction was supposed to mean.
It should have been that simple. It was only the history of the ring, the symbolism attached to it, a family heritage with an old tradition.
None of that should have made her feel like this. But she could not pretend anymore, not since April.
Since the first time Paige had kissed her, gently on that hotel room bed, like she wasn't completely sure she was allowed to. And all the times after that, when it had quietly become something that slipped into their time together without ever being named.
Because ever since then, Azzi had caught herself, more than once, turning the ring so the heart faced inward without even thinking about it.
Never for long, just in small, private moments.
Lying in bed, replaying the way Paige's hand had settled at her waist while they were saying goodbye to Azzi's physical therapist, or how her voice softened when she asked if Azzi wanted to head to bed and watch a movie after a particularly tough day. While thinking of how Paige's mouth felt when she was kissing down on her neck...
And every time, the second she noticed it, it startled her enough to make her stop and turn it back.
They were not together.
That was the line she always came back to, the one that was supposed to make everything make sense again.
Whatever this was between them lived somewhere in between. In looks that lasted too long, in touches that had become far too intentional, in kisses that happened and then never quite got spoken about afterward.
It was obvious and confusing at once, something that existed in action but refused to settle into words.
Turning the heart facing in felt like saying something out loud without actually saying it. And Azzi wasn't ready for that. Not even in her own head and definitely not here, sitting next to Paige, explaining what it meant while trying not to think about how easily Paige seemed to fit into all its meaning without even realising it.
When Azzi finished, Paige didn't respond right away.
She stayed quiet, which in itself felt off. Her attention lingered on Azzi's hand before lifting to her face, then dropping back again, like she was working something out piece by piece.
The words didn't fade, they just sat there between them, heavier than they should have been. Azzi glanced over, half-expecting a joke to cut through it, to break the tension the way Paige usually would.
"Oh," Paige said finally.
Oh.
It was such a small word, but something in the way Paige said it made Azzi suddenly conscious of everything. The heat in her face, the sun on her skin, how close Paige still was.
"It's not a big deal," Azzi said quickly, cutting the moment off before it could turn into something else.
Downplaying things had always felt safer than letting them turn into something too serious.
Paige nodded. "No, I know."
But she didn't sound like she believed that.
Azzi turned back to her book, mostly to have somewhere else to look. It didn't help. The words blurred, and Paige's quiet presence beside her only made it worse.
For the rest of the afternoon, she kept catching Paige looking.
Not obvious enough to call it out without sounding strange, but often enough that it became impossible to ignore. Every so often, Paige's gaze would drift to her right hand and linger just a little too long, her expression thoughtful, like she was still turning it over in her head.
Once, when Azzi handed her a drink, their fingers brushed and Paige's eyes dropped briefly to the ring before lifting again. For a second, Azzi forgot what she had been about to say.
It shouldn't have mattered.
But by evening, Azzi was hyper-aware of it, the weight of the ring, every small movement of her hand whenever Paige was near. She caught herself tucking it out of sight, then immediately felt stupid for it.
She told herself Paige was just curious. She liked meanings, little details, the stories behind things.
That had to be all this was.
By the time they crawled into the tent that night, the rest of the campsite had gone mostly quiet.
Azzi lay on her back under her blanket, staring up at the dim curve of the tent ceiling. She had been trying to fall asleep for at least twenty minutes, though it felt longer, because every time she got close to drifting off, her thoughts pulled her right back out of it.
Paige's face on the dock that afternoon. The way she had gone so still while Azzi explained the ring. The quiet little oh that should not have meant anything, except somehow it had.
And the fact that Paige was now lying only a few inches away, close enough that Azzi could feel her warmth through the narrow space between their blankets.
That part was definitely not helping.
Azzi shifted onto her side, telling herself it was only because she was more comfortable that way. In the dark, she could just make out Paige's shape beside her, already turned in her direction, which made something low and nervous move through her stomach. Not butterflies.
Her eyes had adjusted enough to catch the outline of Paige's face, the soft mess of her hair, the faint glint of moonlight catching on one cheekbone where the tent fabric let in the smallest bit of silver-blue light.
It was unfair, honestly, how even half-hidden in the dark, Paige was so beautiful.
Azzi closed her eyes for a second, then opened them again. Still awake, obviously. A minute passed, maybe two, before Paige moved.
It was quiet, just the soft rustle of fabric and a shift of weight, but Azzi felt it immediately. Paige edged closer, slow enough that she could have stopped at any point if Azzi had pulled away.
Then slipped one arm carefully around her waist, the warmth settling there with such easy familiarity that Azzi's breath caught for half a second before evening out again.
"Can't sleep?" Paige whispered.
Azzi shook her head instinctively before remembering that in the dark Paige might not be able to see her.
"I can't," she whispered back gently.
The hand at her waist tightened slightly. Paige's fingers shifted against her side, before she spoke again, quieter this time.
"Have you ever turned it around?"
Azzi went completely still.
For a second, she thought about pretending she didn't understand. But the question sat too clearly between them for that. Paige wasn't asking about the absentminded moments, the ones Azzi corrected right away.
She was asking something bigger than that, and they both knew it.
Paige was asking whether there had ever been someone. Someone Azzi wanted enough, felt enough for, to wear the ring differently and mean it.
Azzi stared into the dark, suddenly very aware of Paige's arm still around her, the warmth of her body pressed close, the way the question hadn't been rushed.
Paige had waited to ask her this all day.
"Not yet," Azzi said quietly.
The truth came out easier than expected, but it didn't make it feel any lighter.
There had never been anyone else. Never been a boy she had thought about seriously, anyone who took up space in her thoughts like this. Whose touch made her body react before her mind could catch up, whose voice could still pull her apart just by dropping lower than usual.
There had only ever been Paige.
Paige stayed silent for a while, then her arm slid higher, pulling Azzi in more fully, not tentative anymore. And when she spoke again, her voice was so soft it barely carried.
"Can I kiss you?"
Azzi didn't trust her voice, instead, she moved.
Just a fraction closer at first, then the rest of the way, closing the space herself before she could think better of it. She found Paige in the dark more by instinct than sight.
Paige kissed her back immediately like she had been waiting.
One hand moved from Azzi's waist to the side of her face, fingers warm against her cheek, steadying her there. The kiss started soft, but it didn't stay that way for long.
It deepened slowly, as it always seemed to with them, until Azzi forgot entirely about the lake, the crickets, the tent, even the muffled sounds of her family sleeping somewhere in the distance.
All Azzi could focus on was Paige.
The warmth of her mouth, the hand at her cheek, the way her body curved toward Azzi's. And when they finally pulled apart, they stayed close, foreheads nearly touching, breaths uneven in the small space between them.
Neither of them said anything else, but Paige's arm stayed around her, and Azzi let herself settle there, one hand curled loosely between them, the ring cool against her finger.
No, Azzi had never turned it around for anyone officially.
But lying there in the dark, wrapped up in Paige's arms with the taste of her still warm on her mouth, the heart on her ring facing out, the thought slipped in anyway.
Maybe she wanted to, for her.
May, 2020
At first, when lockdown began, Azzi told herself that having Paige there would at least make the days go faster.
That was the practical version of the truth, the one that sounded reasonable if anybody asked.
Paige was good company, a good training partner, and someone who could make the long, repetitive days feel a little less dull.
All of that was true. It was just not even close to the whole truth. What Azzi did not say out loud was that somewhere along the way, Paige had stopped feeling like a platonic best friend.
These days, if someone asked, Paige was still simply Paige.
Paige who was there when Azzi woke up, usually already dressed and half-way through a conversation with Azzi's parents or arguing with one of her brothers before Azzi had even fully finished her coffee.
She was there through their workouts, matching her pace, pushing her harder, refusing to let her slack off even when Azzi wanted to.
She was also there in the afternoons, stretched out beside her on the old, worn couch in the basement, their shoulders pressed together as whatever movie they had put on played mostly in the background.
Paige had also somehow become part of all the ordinary, domestic things too.
She stole fruit from the bowl on the counter without asking, she reached past Azzi, her hand brushing her side as she grabbed something from a cabinet and flopped onto their shared bed with an ease that suggested she had lived there for years instead of weeks.
They ate lunch with her family in the same kitchen that never really stayed quiet for more than a minute, and somewhere in the middle of all that, it stopped feeling like the Fudds were hosting Paige and started feeling like Paige had simply become part of her family.
That should have been simple if it stayed just that, but that was not the case. It became a dangerous game as the physical side of things hadn't stayed simple either.
Since that camping trip over the summer, Paige had become even more openly affectionate with her, as if whatever fragile line had once existed between them had quietly dissolved and no one had bothered to put it back.
Paige touched Azzi like it didn't occur to her not to. A hand at her back guiding her through the entrance of their favourite store. Fingers brushing her knee under the table. Her legs thrown across Azzi's lap on the couch during family movie night.
And when they were alone, or just hidden enough to pretend they were, it had become completely normal for Paige to kiss her too without asking first.
Softly sometimes, other times with just enough intent to leave Azzi flushed and unsettled afterward, staring at the wall or biting the inside of her cheek and trying not to think about the way Paige had looked at her right before it happened.
Azzi had stopped pretending she did not feel those stupid butterflies, but that did not mean she understood what to do with them. That was the part that kept snagging on her.
There were still moments when she could convince herself that whatever this was would sort itself out eventually, that she did not need to drag it into the light before it was ready.
Then there were other moments, when Paige looked at her a certain way or reached for her without thinking, and Azzi felt a nervous, aching certainty that this already mattered too much to be treated like something vague any longer.
That specific afternoon had also started because Paige had noticed she was in a mood before Azzi had even fully admitted it to herself.
Training had run long, both of them damp with sweat and already irritated by the time they were done, and the house had felt unbearable the second they stepped back inside.
One of her brothers had a game blaring from the TV. Her dad was on the phone in the next room, pacing while he talked too loudly, as always. Her mom was in the middle of reorganising something in their living room.
Azzi had stood there for maybe twenty seconds before that familiar tightness began settling in her chest.
She needed air and quiet and maybe a full hour where nobody asked anything of her.
She did not even have to say it. Paige, standing at the sink with her back half-turned as she filled their water bottles, looked up, took one glance at Azzi's face, and immediately knew.
She did not make a big deal out of it, she just walked over, handed Azzi her bottle, and said, "Go and take a shower, Az. We are going to somewhere more quiet, okay?"
Azzi nodded without arguing and by the time she came back down in a fresh pair of sweatpants she had stolen from Paige's designated drawer, Paige was already holding her car keys and waiting at the door like this had always been the plan.
The part they drove to was one of Azzi's favorites.
She had known it long before Paige ever visited her, and there was something comforting about Paige bringing her here without a question.
The trees were full and green, the grass still bright from the rain that had fallen the day before, and the air was warm enough that neither of them needed anything over their hoodies.
Azzi had expected maybe a blanket and a couple of drinks at most. Paige had somehow turned it into an entire picnic.
There was fruit, actual sandwiches instead of the protein bars they usually lived on after workouts, cold drinks, pillows and a blanket large enough that it was obvious they were meant to stay there for a while.
Paige set everything down with an expression that was far too pleased with herself to fool anybody, least of all Azzi.
"Why are you doing this?" Azzi asked looking at Paige even as she sat down and reached for the strawberries first.
Paige only shrugged, that familiar little smug curve appearing at the corner of her mouth. "You were getting grumpy," she said. "This seemed like the best option."
Azzi rolled her eyes. "I was not grumpy."
"You were, actually," Paige said, sitting down across from her. "Your whole face does this thing."
"What thing?"
Paige looked at her for a second too long, then smiled. "This cute, moody thing where you act like everybody is annoying and then refuse to admit that you are just hungry and need a break from everyone."
Heat crept up Azzi's neck immediately, which only made her more annoyed because Paige noticed that too.
"Shut up, P," she muttered, reaching for her coconut water mostly so she would have something to do with her hands. "Not from you though."
Paige grinned and, without asking, opened one of the sandwich wrappers and handed it to her before making her own. It was made exactly how Azzi liked it, turkey ham with butter instead of mayo. It was a small detail that should have been meaningless and absolutely was not.
That was the thing with Paige.
It was not just that she took care of Azzi. It was how she always seemed to know what she needed before Azzi was ready to say it. She remembered the small things and made them feel easy. Thoughtless, almost, and that was somehow worse because it meant she might not even realise what she was doing to Azzi every single time.
They ate slowly, Paige talking as she always did, but it felt softer out there, with the park stretched around them and the sunlight moving lazily across the blanket.
Every so often Paige paused just long enough to slide something toward her without being asked, a napkin, a drink, another piece of fruit, as if the entire point of the afternoon was making sure Azzi relaxed properly for once.
And that was what made it feel so much like a date.
Not the blanket, or the weather, or even the fact that they were alone in a park with too much food for two people who had supposedly just needed air. It was the attention of it, the intention.
The fact that Paige had looked at Azzi's mood and built an entire afternoon around making it better without ever making her feel like she was too much for needing it.
And it was so confusing, because it could still all be explained away as Paige being a great friend.
Azzi could just be reading too much into everything because Paige had become far too easy to want.
By the time they finished eating, the sun had shifted higher and the early summer heat had settled around them.
Paige stretched out beside Azzi at first, then propped herself up on one elbow, already launching into yet another version of her ongoing argument about why Azzi should commit to UConn.
It should have been annoying and mostly it was, but not enough to stop Azzi from secretly liking it. Paige talked about UConn the way other people talked about futures they were already living.
The basketball part was always first, obviously, the coaches, the system, the pace of everything. Paige was sure that Azzi would love it there if she let herself imagine it properly. But woven through all of that, increasingly impossible to ignore, was something else underneath it.
"The basketball part should already be enough," Paige said, rolling slightly closer so she could look at Azzi properly. "You know that, right? You would love it there."
Azzi picked at the label on her drink, pretending that was enough to keep her busy. "You are already so biased and you haven't even started going there yet."
"I am being serious," Paige said. "Also, besides all of those things," she added, her voice softening into something Azzi had become far too tuned into, "you would have me there."
Azzi's stomach gave that familiar stupid little flip. Stupid butterflies.
Because yes, Paige was talking about basketball and facilities and all the practical reasons it made sense. But underneath all of that sat the thing Azzi could not quite stop hearing.
Come with me. Come build something with me.
That was what made her chest feel too full and too uneasy at the same time. Azzi did not know yet if she was ready to say yes to UConn, but she knew with painful clarity that part of what made the decision feel so enormous was that Paige had become tied to it.
UConn was not just a school anymore. It was a future that might include waking up near Paige, training with Paige, building routines around Paige, letting this strange unfinished thing between them become something ordinary instead of something they kept suspended between seasons and states.
Azzi listened, occasionally smiling or rolling her eyes, but mostly just let the sound of Paige's voice wash over her.
She had heard versions of these arguments before, but there was something about being out here under the open sky in her favourite park, away from everyone else, that made it feel less like recruiting and more like longing.
Let's close the distance instead of surviving it.
Eventually Paige ran out of reasons for the moment and flopped back onto the blanket with a dramatic sigh, making Azzi laugh before she could stop herself.
"You are so dramatic," Azzi said, though there was no real bite to it.
Paige turned her head and smiled at her, all bright warmth and easy affection. "And yet," she said, "you keep me around."
That was true enough that Azzi did not bother denying it.
A minute later, Paige stretched out fully on the blanket and then, without asking, shifted until her head ended up in Azzi's lap.
Azzi looked down at her, Paige looked back up, entirely unbothered. Neither of them said anything, but Azzi's hand moved into Paige's hair almost on its own.
Paige's eyes drifted half shut immediately, her whole body going soft beneath Azzi's fingers. Azzi traced her fingers slowly through her hair, lingering near her temple, then over the crown of her head, and every now and then Paige leaned into the touch just enough that Azzi could tell she was doing it on purpose.
That too had become one of those things they did now without really discussing when it had started.
Paige liked being touched when she was tired and Azzi liked the immediate way Paige softened under her hand. It made her feel a strange, quiet satisfaction to be able to do that to her.
Azzi was pulled back from her thoughts when Paige slowly reached up, almost lazily, and found Azzi's free hand where it rested against her own leg.
Their fingers slid together without a word said out loud.
Azzi looked down at their hands and felt her chest tighten. Stupid butterflies.
It should not have been such a big thing. They touched all the time these days, that part was not new anymore. They leaned against each other and kissed without ever saying what that meant afterward.
But this felt different. There was no teasing in it, no way to pretend Paige was only doing it to get a reaction. She was just holding her hand, like it belonged there.
For a while Azzi only looked at their fingers laced together, at the contrast between Paige's pale hand and her own golden tone. Then her eyes focused on the silver ring sitting on her finger with the heart facing out.
Her pulse jumped a little harder when she realized Paige's thumb had kept brushed over it again and again.
Azzi had been switching the ring around a lot more lately.
Not every day, and still mostly only privately, but more often than before, especially since Paige had been here. It no longer felt like pretending in the same way it had last year. It felt closer to admitting something she was already carrying around in her chest, even if she still refused to ask the question out loud.
Because if this was what it looked like now, stolen kisses, almost-dates, Paige taking care of her like she had every right to, Paige holding her hand in the middle of a quiet afternoon like it was a normal thing to do, then what exactly were they doing if not dating?
And why did Paige get to be this affectionate, this soft, this quietly couple-like, without ever having to say the word girlfriend?
Even feeling all these emotions, Azzi had not talked to Paige about it. She had not asked if they were anything. She had not risked turning something fragile into a question that might demand a real answer before Paige was ready.
Which was why, when Paige carefully untangled their fingers and sat up just enough to take Azzi's hand fully in her own, Azzi's first reaction was confusion.
Paige's eyes had dropped to the ring. Azzi watched her thumb rest against the silver for a second before she slid it gently off Azzi's finger.
Azzi's breath caught immediately.
Paige turned the ring in her fingers, slow enough that Azzi could see exactly what she was doing, and then slid it back onto her right hand with the heart facing in.
The world seemed to go very quiet after that.
Azzi stared at the ring first. Her mind registered the position before her body did, and then all at once heat spread through her chest and face.
Azzi knew what it meant and she knew that Paige knew what it meant too.
Paige had understood enough to do this deliberately, here, in the middle of a warm afternoon in Azzi's favorite park, after an afternoon that already felt like a date even before that moment.
Azzi's heart suddenly beat so hard but slowly, she lifted her gaze.
Paige was watching her with an expression Azzi almost could not bear to look at for too long. There was no joke in it, nothing playful to hide behind. There was only tenderness there and certainty.
Azzi could have asked what does this mean, but the question would have been dishonest. She knew what Paige meant. Paige could have explained, but that would have made something private feel suddenly fragile under too much language. So neither of them said anything.
Instead, Azzi leaned down and kissed her.
Paige kissed her back immediately, one hand coming up to cup the back of Azzi's neck while the other still held Azzi's fingers. The kiss deepened slowly, but it held that warm, dizzying pull Azzi had already started associating with Paige and only Paige.
When they finally pulled apart, Azzi stayed close enough to feel Paige's breath against her mouth. She looked down once more time at the ring on her hand, at the heart facing in, and this time the sight of it did not make her panic. It made her feel claimed in the gentlest possible way and Azzi did not want to turn it back.
She never asked Paige why and Paige never explained.
But by the time they packed up the blanket and the empty containers and drove home through the slow golden light of late afternoon, the heart was still facing inward on Azzi's right hand. And every time she caught sight of it resting there, something quiet and certain settled a little deeper inside her.
October, 2020
Azzi hadn't expected something as small as a ring to feel this heavy suddenly.
And yet, somewhere between leaving home and crossing into Connecticut, she had turned it so many times that the motion had become instinctive.
Her thumb kept finding the edge of it, rotating it without unconciously, like her body was trying to decide something her mind refused to settle on.
Heart out, heart in, heart out again.
It shouldn't have mattered this much. If she had been looking at this from the outside, she would have told herself the answer was simple.
They weren't together.
That had been mostly her own decision. Carefully thought through, something she had convinced herself was the right thing to do.
Paige had just started college, had just stepped into something new and demanding and full of possibility, and Azzi hadn't wanted to complicate that for her before it had even begun.
She hadn't wanted to be something Paige felt tied to, or worse, something Paige felt obligated to carry with her.
So Azzi had drawn the line.
At the time, saying they should stop what they had been doing had felt reasonable, responsible even. A choice a person would make when they were trying to be mature instead of selfish.
What Azzi had not accounted for, what she hadn't even imagined, was how easily Paige had accepted it.
There had been no argument, no pushback. No moment where Paige looked at her and said this is not what I want. There was no stay or this matters enough to fight for. Just a quiet nod, as if Paige trusted Azzi's judgment more than she trusted whatever she was feeling herself.
Azzi had told herself that was a good thing.
She had told herself it meant Paige respected her, that it meant she had made the right decision. That this was what maturity looked like when you cared about someone enough not to make it harder than it already was.
None of those explanations made the hollow feeling in her chest go away.
Now, sitting in the backseat of their old family van on the way to Connecticut, the whole thing felt less certain than it had when she first forced herself into it.
Not wrong exactly, just unfinished, like she had ended a conversation halfway through and never gone back to hear what Paige might have said if she had been given the space or courage to say it.
Her fingers turned the ring again, heart facing in this time.
The motion had become almost automatic over the past few days, something she did without fully realising it until she caught the shift and corrected it again.
She had worn it facing in for most of the summer after that afternoon in the park, after Paige had turned it without asking and made something quiet feel suddenly undeniable.
It had felt right back then, or at least close enough to right that Azzi had not questioned it once even without an explanation.
But things were different now, or at least, they were supposed to be.
They had said they were stepping back.
So wearing the ring with the heart facing in now felt like a contradiction. It felt like holding on to something she had told Paige to release only 2 months ago.
Azzi turned it facing out again and pressed her thumb against the cool metal.
Heart facing out. Single.
That was the truth now. That was what it was supposed to be.
But it didn't feel obvious like it used to. It felt like something she was choosing because it was easier to explain than the alternative, not because it fully matched what she felt. Because what she actually felt was not this.
Her thoughts, unhelpfully, drifted to the last time she had seen Paige in person. To the way Paige had looked at her after Azzi said they should stop. The brief pause before the nod. The absence of an argument.
Azzi swallowed and stared out the window, watching the trees and road blur into long, colorless stretches of green and gray.
The truth was, she had wanted Paige to fight for her. That was the part Azzi had not admitted to herself until a few days ago.
Azzi had wanted Paige to say no, to push back, to make it impossible for Azzi or herself to retreat without saying what they really wanted.
She had wanted Paige to close the distance between them and force the truth into the open finally, to prove that this mattered enough to be impossible to walk away from.
Instead, Paige had done the opposite.
She had given Azzi exactly what she asked for, and in doing so had left her alone with the consequences of her own decision.
It was unfair to feel this frustrated about it. Paige hadn't done anything wrong. If anything, Paige had been painfully respectful and good about not making Azzi feel guilty for the space she had asked for. They still texted daily and talked at least a couple of times a week, but it was not the same.
It definitely did not stop the ugly little thought from circling anyway.
Maybe Paige had not understood how much this mattered to her, or maybe she had understood and chosen not to make it harder than it already was.
Azzi did not know which option hurt more.
By the time they reached campus, Azzi had forced herself into something that resembled resolve.
The ring stayed where it was, facing out.
She did not change it again as she climbed out of the van and waved off her family. Azzi told herself that this visit did not have to be complicated unless she made it that way.
Then she saw Paige and Paige had also spotted her immediately. Her face lit up which caught Azzi off guard no matter how many times she saw it. For one stupid second all the careful certainty Azzi had built in the car started to wobble.
"Az."
Paige crossed the distance between them quickly and pulled her into a hug before Azzi had fully braced for it.
It was warm and tight and achingly familiar. It made Azzi feel both comforted and wrecked at the same time. Paige never did anything halfway, even her hugs felt like she meant them with her whole body.
For a second, Azzi let herself sink into it.
God, she had missed this. She had missed Paige so much.
Paige pulled back just enough to look at her, still smiling, still close enough that Azzi could see the details she hadn't realized she had been starving for.
The exact shape of her mouth, the way her eyes softened when she looked at Azzi, the tiny shift in her expression when she took her in properly. The butterflies were officially back.
And then, without thinking, Paige reached for her hand. Their fingers slid together like they had done it a hundred times before, like nothing had changed. And for one fragile second, it felt like nothing had.
But then everything shifted. Azzi felt like she was watching it in slow motion.
Paige's grip tightened just slightly before loosening, her eyes dropping to their joined hands with a focus that made Azzi's stomach turn over. Azzi followed her gaze.
The ring.
Azzi saw the moment land in Paige's face before she even said anything. Paige lifted their hands a fraction, her gaze fixed on the silver band, her brows drawing together slightly.
For a moment, neither of them moved, then Paige let go of her hand. The absence was immediate.
Paige's smile came back right after, but it did not look the same anymore. It was still warm on the surface, but something under it had changed, like she had just swallowed down whatever she had been thinking.
"The team has been asking about you," Paige said, her voice felt too casual to be natural. "They are so excited to meet you."
Azzi nodded, even though her attention was still caught on the empty space where their hands had been.
"I am excited to meet them," she said, trying to match her tone and failing just enough to be noticable.
Paige had already turned slightly, moving before the moment could settle into something heavier. "Come on, I will introduce you."
Azzi followed, falling into step beside Paige like nothing had just happened, but something in her chest had gone tight and strange. It felt like she had taken one wrong step and was still trying to find the ground again. Her gaze dropped to her hand as they walked.
The ring sat there heart facing out. Single.
For the first time since she had put it that way in the car, it did not feel true. It felt loaded, something Paige had noticed and something she had not liked. Not enough to say anything, but enough to change the air between them and make it more tense.
Azzi swallowed, trying to make sense of something that refused to settle into logic.
She had been the one to draw the line, she had been the one to step back. Paige had respected that, Paige hadn't pushed. Paige had done everything Azzi had asked.
So why did it suddenly feel like Paige had taken her hand away twice? Why did it feel like she had just told Paige something she hadn't meant to say?
Azzi didn't have an answer.
She only knew that the warmth from Paige's hug was still lingering on her skin, and the absence of her hand in hers felt worse than it should have. And for the rest of the walk across campus, she could not stop thinking about the way Paige had looked at her ring like it had meant more than Azzi had allowed it to mean.
A few hours later, Ted's was exactly as Paige had promised it would be.
Loud, crowded, warm with bodies and music and a specific energy. It was the only bar on campus and the place where the team naturally drifted after games or on nights when somebody decided they needed to get out of the dorms and pretend they were having a normal college experience.
But if Azzi was being honest, she did not want to go out that night.
It felt like too much after the long drive and the tension she hadn't shaken off since stepping onto campus and seeing Paige again. Since realising that nothing between them had actually settled the way she had told herself it would by now.
Azzi would have much rather stayed in Paige's room. But then Paige had smiled at her, bright and persuasive and impossible to refuse.
"You have to experience Ted's, Az," Paige had said. "The team has been waiting to meet you properly."
So Azzi had gone, because saying no to Paige had never been as easy as she sometimes pretended it was.
Now, a couple of hours in, Azzi was liking it more than she expected it. She enjoyed it enough that she could move through conversations wih the team without feeling like she was forcing every word.
Azzi let herself be pulled into the easy rhythm of Paige's teammates without thinking too hard about the fact that next year they would be hers too.
She still had not told Paige that she is committing to UConn, and part of her felt the weight of that every time someone casually said potential future teammate.
Luckily, the girls were also easy to like and get along with.
Dorka was warm and sweet with an accent Azzi had immediately noticed and liked. It made her feel less conscious about how she phrased things herself.
Nika was quieter at first, but funny and loud once she warmed up, with an expression that suggested she was paying attention even when she looked like she wasn't.
Together they had made Azzi laugh more than she had expected to, and for a while it had almost been enough to make the night feel normal. Almost.
She had been talking to them near the edge of the bar, one hand wrapped loosely around her drink, when she noticed Paige.
Paige stood a few steps away, angled toward another girl, her body relaxed, her expression open in that same easy way she had always had with people. She was clearly listening, nodding, saying something that made the girl laugh.
It looked completely normal at first.
But then Dorka glanced over too, and the look on her face changed into something far too knowing.
Dorka tipped her head slightly toward Paige and said, with maddening casualness, "Paigey has been busy since she got to campus. She hangs out with a different girl like every week."
Azzi's stomach dropped.
Dorka kept talking, unaware of what her words were causing to Azzi's butterflies in her stomach.
"Paige is kind a player. In more ways than one. Maybe that girl is the next one."
It was said like a joke, just an observation that wasn't supposed to matter, but it did. It mattered so fucking much to Azzi's stupid, dying butterflies.
Azzi knew had no right to feel anything at all.
Paige was single. They were not together. So Paige was allowed to talk to whoever she wanted. She was allowed to flirt, or not flirt, or do whatever she wanted with whoever she wanted.
Azzi knew that.
She knew it with the same part of her brain that knew how much it did not matter what she knew. Because it still hurt, the thought of Paige with someone else made her chest feel tight. It also made her feel so humiliated that Azzi wanted to disappear into the floor.
Nika's gaze was focused on her now, more attentive.
Azzi forced a small, tight smile that didn't quite reach her eyes. "Good for her, I guess."
The words tasted wrong the second they left her mouth.
Dorka nodded like that was the expected reaction, already moving on and talking about something else that Azzi didn't catch because the noise in her head had gotten too loud.
Azzi swallowed, her grip tightening slightly around her glass.
"Hey, I am just gonna…" she started, then stopped, recalibrating. "Get some air."
Dorka blinked at her, and Nika's expression softened a little, though neither of them said anything.
Azzi was already moving and she didn't look back, not at them, nor at Paige, even though she could feel it, the almost physical awareness of Paige's attention shifting towards her the moment Azzi moved away from their group.
Azzi pushed through the crowd and out into the cooler night air, the sound of the bar muffling behind her almost immediately. It helped a little.
She leaned back against the wall, tilting her head up toward the sky, closing her eyes for a second, hoping that it might help her get through the next minute without falling apart.
This was stupid. It was actually so fucking stupid.
She had no right to feel like this, no right to care who Paige talked to, who she laughed with, who she touched. She had been the one to draw the line and to make sure whatever they had didn't become something that could complicate everything else.
This was what that decision meant now, Paige moving on, Paige being free to do whatever she wanted.
Azzi's throat tightened.
She exhaled slowly, pressing the back of her head against the wall, willing the feeling down.
The door opened behind her and Azzi didn't need to turn to know who it was.
Paige stepped out and moved to stand beside her, leaning against the wall in the same way, close enough that Azzi could feel the heat of her body but without actually touching her.
For a while, neither of them said anything, but the silence wasn't empty, it was full of everything they weren't saying.
"I wasn't…" Paige started after a moment. "She is just in my stats class. She was asking about a…."
Azzi lifted her hand before Paige could finish. A small, instinctive stop motion.
"Don't," she said, her voice slightly shaking. She swallowed, her fingers moving again, twisting the ring slightly without realising it. "It's okay, Paige."
Paige went still.
"You are single," Azzi said, keeping her voice carefully flat. "You can do whatever you want."
Paige did not answer right away.
After a few seconds, she reached for Azzi's hand. Her fingers closed around it before Azzi could pull away, and with that one small movement she stopped Azzi from playing with the ring again. Her thumb pressed lightly over the band, stilling her.
Azzi finally looked up at her.
Paige was watching her with an expression Azzi could not quite read, except that it was too vulnerable to be nothing. There was something in her eyes that made Azzi's chest hurt in a different way, like Paige was standing right on the edge of saying something and still refusing to take the step.
At the end, whatever it was Paige did not say it. Instead, after a beat, she asked quietly, "Do you want to go back to my room?"
Azzi held her gaze for half a second longer, then she nodded once. "Yes, please."
Paige's hand loosened, but only just enough to let them move.
They went back to Paige's dorm without saying goodbye to anyone without saying a word about what happened.
Inside Paige's room, everything fell into a quiet routine.
Azzi moved through the small space without looking at Paige directly, pulling open her bag and reaching for the first thing her hand touched.
It happened to be one of Paige's shirts.
Paige glanced over at her right then, before she crossed to her closet and handed Azzi another one. Paige's favourite lavender Nike shirt she had been wearing constantly for weeks.
"Wear this one," she said quietly.
Azzi looked at the shirt, then at Paige, then took it without saying a word and pulled it over her head.
It smelled like Paige.
Neither of them spoke while they got ready for bed. No small talk and no attempts to make the room lighter. Just the quiet rustle of movement and the shared weight of everything neither of them had said.
When they finally got into bed, Paige did not hesitate.
She moved closer first and Azzi met her halfway instantly, as if she had been waiting for the same thing. And then they were there, curled into each other, Paige's arm settling around her, Azzi's face tucked into the familiar space near her shoulder.
One of Paige's hands rested at her back and the other found the small baby hairs that were loose under her bonnet. She started playing with them and the feeling was so familiar it almost made Azzi cry again.
Azzi let out a breath she had not realized she was holding and buried her face against Paige's neck. Paige held her without asking a single question.
After a while, Azzi closed her eyes, her hand resting between them, the ring pressed lightly against Paige's shirt.
She didn't move it, she didn't turn it around.
Azzi just laid there, being held, trying not to think about how easy this was, or how much harder everything else had become.
Neither of them said a word about any of it the morning after.
October, 2021
Azzi woke slowly.
For a few soft seconds, she stayed exactly where she was, wrapped in the cosy warmth of the bed and a certain peace that only existed before the world fully woke up.
Her body still felt loose and warm from sleep, and there was something almost disorientingly good about realising, before she had even opened her eyes properly, that Paige was still there.
And this time, not just near her, but with her. It was the first morning after they had finally said it out loud.
After months of circling each other again, of moving closer without ever quite naming what they were doing, of lingering and waiting and pretending that the thing between them could stay suspended forever, last night had changed something.
Finally, after all that time, they had stopped pretending they did not already have each other's hearts.
Azzi let herself stay still for another moment, just enjoying the feeling of being held.
She could feel the warmth of Paige's hand resting low on her stomach, the faint pressure of her body against her back, the quiet rise and fall of her breathing against her shoulder.
Azzi had wanted to feel this for so long that waking up inside it felt like a dream.
And that was the part that made her a little nervous.
Not because she thought last night had been a mistake or a dream only, it hadn't been. If anything, it had been the most honest they had been with each other in a long time, maybe ever.
But mornings had a way of testing things, of making words feel sturdier or suddenly smaller depending on how the light hit them.
Azzi knew herself well enough to know that she had been hurt before by moments that felt certain until the next day arrived.
So she stayed where she was a little longer, letting herself have this first small stretch of peace without forcing it into anything else.
After a few minutes, she turned in Paige's arms slowly until she was facing her.
Paige was still half asleep, her face softer than Azzi ever saw it during the day, free of the small smirks and easy confidence and constant movement Azzi had grown so used to.
Like this, Paige looked even younger, sweeter, almost impossibly innocent.
Azzi found herself staring a little longer than she meant to, just taking her in.
Wanting this, wanting Paige had never been the problem, not really.
The problem was that Azzi had wanted it for so long, and for so long she had only let herself want it in pieces, in private, in ways that never felt entirely safe to trust. Now that it was here, resting warm and real in front of her, Azzi did not fully know what to do with how happy it made her feel.
And then Paige's eyes opened slowly and for one quiet second, she just looked at Azzi.
There was no confusion in her face, no awkward pause or a hint of wanting to pull away. Just softness settling over her features the moment she focused on Azzi.
"Hey princess," Paige murmured, her voice low and rough with sleep.
Azzi answered just as softly. "Hey, P."
Paige smiled a little, still half caught between sleep and waking, and then she moved closer. Her arm tightened around Azzi's waist as she drew her in, and then Paige kissed her, slow and sure and without even a shadow of uncertainty.
It wasn't the same as last night. Last night had carried years of weight in it, all the tension, the almosts, the careful restraint finally giving way.
This kiss felt calmer, like waking up and choosing the same thing again with open eyes.
Azzi kissed her back immediately, her hand rising to Paige's neck without thinking, fingertips resting there. Paige stayed right there with her, close and warm, and when they finally pulled apart, they barely moved at all. Paige's forehead rested against hers, their breaths mingled in the small space between them.
Azzi looked at Paige for another second, and what she found there didn't make her nervous the way she had feared it might.
It made her feel seen.
Paige was not looking at her like last night had been a beautiful mistake. She was looking at her like this was exactly where she wanted to be. Then Paige's gaze dropped and Azzi followed it instinctively. The second she saw where Paige was looking, her pulse stumbled.
The ring.
It rested on her right hand, the heart still facing out, the position she had kept it in for so long.
Paige reached for her hand gently. She paused looking down at the ring for a second, her thumb resting lightly against the silver, and Azzi could feel the weight of the moment gathering before either of them said a word.
Then Paige slid it off just like she did almost 1,5 years ago in Azzi's favourite park. Paige turned the band slowly between her fingers but did not slid it back onto her fingers this time.
Azzi looked down at it between Paige's fingers.
The meaning of the ring had never been hard to understand, that had always been the point. It was small, but it said something specific, something unmissable.
And now, in Paige's hands, with their bodies still tangled together, it finally didn't feel like something Azzi had to interpret by herself anymore.
Paige let out a quiet breath, her gaze flickering down to the ring again before returning to Azzi’s face.
"You know what’s kind of messed up?” Paige said softly with a faint, almost disbelieving smile. "Since the first time you told me about this ring… I don't think I ever really stopped thinking about it." Her thumb traced slowly along the edge of the band.
"You explained it like it was just… history. Like it was this cool thing your grandpa gave you, and yeah, I listened and acted like it wasn't a big deal. But it was, at least to me. Because all I could think about was that one day, that ring was going to turn,” Paige continued, her voice dropping, more serious now. “And it wasn't going to be because of me."
The words landed heavier this time and finally there was no deflection. Azzi felt it right in the center of her chest. Paige's gaze dropped again, her jaw tightening just slightly before she continued, like she had decided she wasn't going to leave any part out.
"I kind of hated this ring," Paige admitted. “Or maybe… not hated because I knew how impart it was for you. But I definitely feared it, it made me anxious." She let out a small breath. "Every time I saw you wearing it, I was checking which way it was facing without even meaning to. Each time i saw it still facing out, I told myself I had time. That I hadn't missed it yet."
A small pause.
"I don't know what…" Paige shook her head slowly. "I don't know what I would have done if I ever saw it turned and knew it wasn't for me."
Azzi’s fingers curled instinctively in her grip. For a second, something gentler passed over Paige's face, like the memory.
"And then that summer, when we were in the park and I turned it…" Paige glanced up at Azzi briefly, something almost shy flickering there before it steadied again. "I knew exactly what I was doing,. I just didn't say it out loud, because I didn't know if I was allowed to. I didn't know if you were going to look at me like I had crossed a line… if I had just imagined everything in my head over the years."
Her thumb moved slowly over the ring in her hand again.
"But you didn't turn it back,” Paige added. "You kept it with the heart facing in. And I think that was the first time I let myself believe this wasn't just one sided."
Azzi's throat tightened and she stared at Paige, her mind briefly blank. Every careful little feeling she had spent so long holding back seemed to suddenly rush into her mind.
Every time she had turned the ring back because she told herself she was being sensible, all the times she had convinced herself that longing and closeness and kisses and history still were not enough to name something.
The moments she had hoped Paige would make it impossible for her to keep pretending they were still just best friends.
"And then you came to UConn," Paige said quietly, "and the heart was facing out again..."
Paige let out a breath that sounded like it had been sitting in her chest for far too long.
"I remember seeing it and feeling two things at the exact same time," Paige's voice steady but more vulenrable now. "I was relieved, because I thought...okay. Good. I didn't miss my chance. Nothing happened while we were apart. I still have… something to work with."
Her jaw tightened slightly.
"And I was also… kind of wrecked by it," Paige admitted. "Because it felt like everything we had just… got erased. Like it didn't count. Like we never actually said it out loud, so it didn't exist."
Azzi felt that land deep. Paige looked back up at her then with clear determination.
"And I still didn't say anything," she went on. "I just… let it happen. I let you have your space. I let you make the call for us. I told myself I was being respectful. Maybe I was." A quiet frustrated sigh. "But I was also just scared to say it out loud and be wrong."
Paige's fingers tightened around Azzi’s hand again.
"I don't want to do that anymore."
There was no nervousness in Paige's voice, only conviction that came from having lived with a truth for so long that finally saying it out loud almost sounded easy.
"I don't want there to be any doubt about this," Paige said. "Not for you. Not for me."
Paige's thumb brushed once more across the ring before she lifted it up while her eyes stayed with Azzi's and slowly pulled it onto Azzi's finger with the heart facing in.
"I have always wanted this ring to face inward because of me. I have wanted you to be my girlfriend for so long, Az."
That did it.
Azzi laughed relieved, but the sound came out shaky and watery, because there were tears suddenly burning behind her eyes. She looked down briefly at the ring again, at the heart finally facing in.
It was finally real now, not only implied anymore. Paige had finally said it out loud and defined what they were.
"You took your time to finally say it loud," Azzi whispered.
Paige smiled immediately with her smile that always looked brighter when it belonged to Azzi.
"I know," Paige said, leaning closer until their noses brushed. "So will you be my girlfriend, Az?"
Azzi let out a shaky breath and buried her fingers tighter into Paige's hair at the back of her neck.
"Yes," she said with all the certainty she had been so afraid to trust for years, "I would love to be your girlfriend, P."
Paige kissed her again before anything else could be said, and this time the kiss felt different from every one that had come before it. Azzi kissed her with the ring warm against her skin, the heart facing in, the silver suddenly feeling lighter than it ever had before.
For the first time since her grandpa had placed it in her hand all those years ago, Azzi finally understood something she had not been able to put into words before.
It had never been the meaning that scared her. It had been how quickly, how undeniably, that meaning had always led her to Paige.
It starts with a borrowed hoodie after their first gold medal and turns into a habit Azzi never breaks. Over the years, clothes become their love language until Paige finally realizes she has been in love with her best friend the whole time.
Word Count: 8.8k words
Note: Heart In or Heart Out is a parallel story, but I recommend reading this one first.
June, 2017
The first time Azzi ever wore something of Paige's, it wasn't planned. Paige hadn't even figured out how to call them actual friends yet without sounding delusional.
It was June 11, 2017, and the U16 FIBA World Championship in Argentina was officially over. Gold medals rested heavy against their chests, still warm from the final game and the celebration that followed.
Understandably, at fifteen-years-old Paige had been buzzing for hours, the adrenaline refusing to settle. She kept replaying the tournament in her head, trying to wrap her mind around what had just happened.
This was her first gold medal. Her first championship at this level.
Being a champion was a new feeling for her, one that felt both overwhelming and promising at the same time. Standing on that podium, she had known she had won something that would stay with her long after they left Argentina. Something that would shape the way she thought about herself and the game.
From the beginning, the tournament had felt different from anything she had experienced before. Everything was more competitive and more demanding. The practices ran longer, the games carried a weight she hadn't fully prepared for.
Wearing the USA jersey meant more than just playing well. It meant representing something larger than herself, meeting expectations, and carrying that responsibility every time she stepped onto the court.
Paige loved all of it.
From the pressure to the discipline to the shared focus of a team working toward the same goal.
The overwhelming joy of winning hadn't arrived in one single moment. It came back to her in waves. First when the final buzzer sounded. Then when they stood together on the podium, listening to the anthem as a team. Now she felt it every time her fingers brushed the medal tucked beneath her Hopkins hoodie.
She kept touching it like she needed the physical reminder that it was real, that they had earned it together.
But the bubble they had built over two weeks of practices, hotels, and games was already starting to dissolve. The team was splitting up now, everyone heading in different directions, back to different homes and routines. Paige checked her boarding pass again.
Minneapolis–Saint Paul International Airport, Minnesota.
She was heading back to her usual life, to her dad and stepmom, to Drew. She loved it there, it was her home.
But as she walked down the aisle, Paige realized how much she was going to miss being surrounded by people who cared about basketball the way she did. She found herself wishing, just a little, that she had someone sitting next to her who understood exactly what this win felt like.
She found her row, slid into her seat, and was halfway through buckling in when she finally looked up.
Azzi Fudd was sitting right next to her.
For a split second, Paige genuinely thought she had made a mistake. She checked her boarding pass again, then the seat number, before looking back at Azzi.
Azzi's expression mirrored her own brief surprise, flickering for just a moment before settling into something more guarded.
"Oh," Azzi said. "Hey."
"Hey," Paige replied, automatically brighter, like she couldn't help it.
She hadn't known Azzi would be on this flight. Hadn't known she would be flying to Minnesota instead of back east to her family. The coincidence alone made Paige's chest feel warm. And suddenly, her heart was racing for an entirely different reason.
Because the truth was, Paige had a thing for Azzi.
She wasn't entirely sure when it had started. Maybe during the first U16 trial a few months earlier, watching Azzi shoot like she was the most perfect basketball player Paige had ever seen.
Or maybe it went back even further, to North Tartan Summer Jam the year before, when Paige had seen her in real life for the first time and thought, Oh. That's… that's what finding someone cute feels like.
Back then, Azzi hadn't even known Paige existed. Which meant it technically didn't count as a crush. Paige had decided that was the rule.
You couldn't like someone who hadn't noticed you yet. That was just… a thing.
But these last two weeks have definitely changed that.
They had spent the entire tournament together, filled with practices and shared bus rides and team meals. And somewhere in all of that, Paige had started trying very hard to be Azzi's friend.
Of course, if you asked her, she wouldn't have called it trying. To her, it felt natural, just being friendly. To a shy fourteen-year-old Azzi, though, it had probably been a lot.
Paige talked easily, she joked constantly, she always seemed to find a reason to be nearby, to comment on a drill, to ask a question that didn't really need asking. She volunteered for partner work, lingered after conversations, smiled brightly at Azzi every single time.
Paige had tried everything to get Azzi to notice her.
She even, regrettably, used a basketball pickup line she had found online at breakfast one morning. "I hand out a couple assists per game, but never landed on a dime like you." She had said it with a grin she thought was charming.
Unfortunately, Azzi had only stared at her, completely blank, then turned to talk to Diamond like Paige hadn't said anything at all.
Still, Paige hadn't given up. Being annoying was better than being invisible. At least annoying meant Azzi knew her name.
And Paige didn't know how to be subtle yet. She didn't know that her enthusiasm could be overwhelming. She only knew that being around Azzi felt good, and that she desperately wanted to be noticed by her.
But somehow, impossibly, she had never once ended up alone next to Azzi for longer than a few minutes. There was always someone else there, always a teammate in the middle, always something interrupting the moment.
Until now.
So when Paige realized they were seatmates on this 10-hour flight, she grinned like she had won something even bigger than a gold medal.
Azzi, on the other hand, did not look nearly as pleased.
Her shoulders tensed almost immediately, and she turned toward the window, earbuds sliding in as her posture closed off. It wasn't rude, exactly, just defensive. Like she needed space before Paige could fill it again the way she had been doing for the past two weeks.
Paige told herself she would play it cool, let Azzi come to her. She managed that for maybe twenty minutes.
That was when she noticed how tightly Azzi had curled in on herself, knees pulled close, arms wrapped around them. Her chin hovered near her shoulder, and goosebumps traced the length of her forearms.
She wasn't wearing a hoodie.
Paige poked her once. No reaction. She poked her again.
Azzi turned just enough to look at her, unimpressed. "What Paige?"
"Rude," Paige said, trying to sound casual and not like her heart had just started sprinting. "Are you cold?"
Azzi's mouth curved in the smallest, driest smirk. "No. I just enjoy pretending I am a human popsicle. What do you think?"
Paige rolled her eyes and leaned back.
Fine. Whatever. Her crush on Azzi Fudd was officially over.
Except it wasn't.
Because when another shiver ran through Azzi a moment later, Paige didn't even hesitate. She tugged her blue Hopkins hoodie over her head and held it out.
Azzi turned fully toward her this time, brows knitting together. "…Why?"
"I am fine in the cold," Paige said with a shrug, forcing nonchalance. "I am from Minnesota after all."
Azzi hesitated, then took it.
She pulled it on, sleeves falling over her hands as she tucked them in, curling into the fabric like the hoodie was already warming her up. Paige had to bite the inside of her cheek to keep from smiling too hard.
Her Hopkins hoodie. On Azzi Fudd. Yeah, that crush was far from over…
It was dumb, it was just a sweatshirt, but it felt like she had won a secret prize no one else knew existed.
"It looks good on you," she blurted out.
Azzi rolled her eyes, but her shoulders loosened, and the corner of her mouth lifted before she could stop it. She tugged the sleeves further down over her hands, settling deeper into the hoodie.
A few quiet minutes passed. Then Azzi slid one earbud out, turning just slightly toward Paige.
"So… how are you feeling about everything?"
That is all Paige needed.
She started talking about their last game, the tournament, how she felt about winning. Her words came easily now, animated and warm, her smile widening every time Azzi nodded along or added her own thoughts about their run. It felt natural, a conversation that had been waiting to happen.
Paige didn't even notice how Azzi stayed curled into the hoodie, breathing it in without thinking, or how her foot brushed Paige's when she shifted a little closer. She didn't notice how Azzi never put the earbud back in.
Paige just leaned back in her seat, careful not to look too pleased as the conversation stretched on, the hours of the flight slipping past without either of them paying attention.
And they didn't know it yet, but that hoodie was never coming back to Paige. And neither was the version of them who boarded that plane thinking the gold medal would be the biggest thing they carried home.
August, 2018
By the next summer, Paige knew two things for certain.
Azzi Fudd was the coolest person she had ever met.
Azzi Fudd had absolutely no concept of borrowing clothes.
It had been a year since their U16 win in Argentina. Paige was sixteen now, Azzi fifteen, and somewhere between tournaments and camps, they had gone from barely talking to talking every day.
At first, it was mostly about basketball. Then it started to stretch into school, friends, and whatever else filled their days. Somewhere along the way it became late-night messages and dumb TikToks sent back and forth at midnight.
Sometimes Paige would deliberately say something just to get a rise out of Azzi and then spend the next twenty minutes making sure she was forgiven. She told herself it was just for fun. Definitely not because annoyed Azzi was adorable.
The Hopkins hoodie, though, was a different story.
Paige had never seen it again. Not in person, at least.
Every now and then she would bring it up on FaceTime, very casually, like it didn't matter at all.
"Hey," she would say, pretending to scroll on her iPad while talking, "I could wear my Hopkins one… if I still had it. Do you know where it is?"
Azzi would glance up, blink like she was genuinely confused, and shrug. "Huh. That's weird. You need to take better care of your stuff, Paige."
And then, a week later, Paige would open Instagram to see Azzi wearing it in a story, sleeves rolled up on her arms, looking very comfortable in it. .Sometimes there would be a little smirk, subtle enough to deny, obvious enough that Paige knew it was meant for her.
Paige didn't actually mind.
It looked better on Azzi anyway.
But then it started happening more.
First it was a pair of sweatpants at U17 trials. Azzi came out of the locker room after a training session wearing pants embroidered with a number 5 instead of 6, the fabric sitting a little too low on her hips.
"Those are mine," Paige said, not accusatory so much as genuinely stunned.
Azzi glanced down at herself, slow and thoughtful, like she was only just now noticing what she had on. "Oh," she said. "Yeah. I forgot mine."
She said it easily, like that alone explained why she was suddenly dressed in Paige's clothes. Then she shrugged and took a step closer, tugging at the waistband absentmindedly.
"Your stuff are more comfortable," she added, almost offhand.
Paige opened her mouth, then closed it again, her brain stalling somewhere between yes, they are and why are you standing that close and since when does that make my heart do this.
But Azzi didn't wait. She walked off like nothing had happened, hands tucked casually into Paige's pockets, already halfway down the hall before Paige remembered how to breathe.
Paige stood there for a second longer than necessary, watching her go, left with the strange, unmistakable feeling that she had just lost something and gained something at the same time.
The lavender Nike T-shirt happened later that summer, during a sleepover at Azzi's grandparents' cabin.
They had stayed up too late talking, stretched out on opposite sides of the bed, voices dropping lower as the night went on. At some point, Azzi had rolled closer, close enough that their arms brushed and Paige had stopped pretending her heart wasn't doing something ridiculous.
In the morning, Paige was halfway through pulling on one of her own shirts when Azzi sat up, squinting at it through sleep-heavy eyes.
"That looks comfortable," Azzi said.
Paige laughed. "It's literally just a shirt in my favourite color."
"Let me see," Azzi said, reaching for it before Paige could react.
She pulled it on without asking and stood in front of the mirror, tugging it into place. It hung loose on her and very hot. It made Paige's brain immediately stop working. Azzi tilted her head, considering herself for a second.
"Yeah," she decided. "I think I will wear it today."
"You can't just steal my clothes," Paige said, but it came out weak, more breathless than she meant it to.
Azzi turned toward her, stepping close enough that Paige could smell her shea butter based shampoo. She smiled at her, then leaned in and pressed a quick kiss to Paige's cheek, close to the corner of her mouth.
Paige's brain short-circuited completely.
"Watch me." Azzi said easily, brushing past her, shoulder grazing Paige's on the way out of the room.
Paige stood there, shirtless and stunned, her hand still half-raised like she had meant to do something about it.
She absolutely did not do anything about it. She just grinned to herself like a complete cheeseball and followed her out of the room after finding a different shirt.
Paige started noticing the pattern after that.
Azzi never made a big deal out of it. She never asked outright. She just… appeared in Paige's things.
A hoodie tossed over her shoulders while they sat outside. Azzi tucking her hands into the sleeves and glancing sideways at Paige like she was checking for a reaction. T-shirts worn to bed, soft and oversized, Azzi stretching in them on purpose the next morning like she knew exactly what she was doing.
And Paige never stopped her.
Not because she couldn't. Okay, maybe a little because she couldn't. But mostly because there was something about it that felt weirdly important. Like a thought she kept circling without ever daring to land on the conclusion.
That every time Azzi chose her clothes, she was maybe choosing her, too, even if she didn't say it out loud.
Azzi, meanwhile, was not subtle.
She tugged at hoodie strings slowly while talking, let the fabric slip off one shoulder just enough to notice, leaned in too close when she laughed. She'd brush past Paige deliberately, fingers grazing her wrist, her waist, her back, then look over her shoulder with a smile that absolutely meant something.
Paige noticed all of it. She just filed it under Azzi being Azzi.
And sometimes Azzi would catch Paige staring and lift an eyebrow, clearly entertained.
"What?" Azzi would ask, smiling like she already knew the answer.
"Nothing," Paige would say too fast. "You are just… wearing my stuff again."
Azzi would glance down at herself, then back up at Paige, eyes bright. "Yeah," she would say easily. "I like how you look at me when you notice it."
Paige would blink and miss it entirely.
"You can keep it," she would offer, because that part felt obvious at least.
Azzi would laugh under her breath like she had just won something.
By the end of the summer, Azzi had three of Paige's hoodies, one pair of sweatpants, and two T-shirts. And Paige had the growing, slightly terrifying realization that she didn't actually want any of them back.
Because the clothes were just clothes.
But Azzi in them, teasing, confident, clearly waiting for Paige to catch up, was something Paige wasn't ready to let go of, even if she still didn't understand why yet.
April, 2019
It happened too fast.
One second Azzi was cutting, quick and effortless and the next she was on the floor, the sound she made cutting straight through the gym.
Paige was on her feet before she understood what she was seeing, a cold drop settling in her stomach as everything else blurred.
She didn't remember moving. She only remembered standing there beside Azzi's mom, shoulder to shoulder, both of them frozen in the same awful, helpless posture.
Paige's hands were clenched so tight her nails bit into her palms. She watched Azzi try to sit up and stop, watched the trainers rush in, watched the realization spread across her face in real time.
Please, Paige prayed, the words tumbling over each other in her head. Please let it be nothing. Please let it just look bad. Please let her stand up and laugh this off.
She prayed again when Azzi was helped off the court. And again in the hallway draped over her healthy knee. And again later, alone, when the truth was announced.
Torn ACL and MCL on her right knee.
Paige had never felt so useless.
The night before she had to leave for Minnesota, Paige finally went to see her. Azzi was propped up on the bed, knee wrapped and elevated, eyes red but dry now, like she'd already cried everything out.
She was wearing the Hopkins hoodie. Paige's Hopkins hoodie.
It suddenly looked a little too big on her, sleeves rolled up, the familiar blue soft and worn against the stark room. Seeing it there on Azzi like this hit Paige harder than she expected.
That hoodie had started as a joke, a tease, something light between them. Now it felt like a safety blanket.
Paige hovered just inside the doorway. "Hey."
Azzi looked up, and the way her face softened at the sight of Paige made Paige's chest ache.
"Hey," Azzi said quietly.
Paige sat down on the edge of the bed, unsure where to put her hands, so she folded them in her lap. Her eyes kept drifting to Azzi's knee before she forced herself to look away.
They sat in silence for a moment.
"I'm sorry," Paige said finally, her voice rough. "I prayed. I really thought…"
"I know," Azzi said, shaking her head gently. "I know you did."
Paige swallowed, then nodded toward the hoodie. "Can you… can you take that off?"
The words surprised them both.
Azzi's fingers curled instinctively into the fabric. She shook her head, small and broken, eyes lifting to Paige's like she was asking for mercy without saying a word.
Paige's chest caved in.
This wasn't teasing. This wasn't give it back or make me. Paige didn't want it because it was hers. She wanted Azzi to have something else too. Something new that meant after, not before.
Paige stood up without another word.
She unzipped her jacket slowly, the UConn zip-up she had gotten just weeks ago after committing, still stiff with newness but already smelling like Paige.
She slipped it off and held it out.
"Wear this," she said softly. "I already warmed it up."
Azzi stared at it, then at Paige, eyes wide and unsure. "Paige… I can't just…"
"You can," Paige said quickly but gently. "You can keep the Hopkins one too. I don't care. I just… I want you to have this."
There was something unspoken in the way she said it.
I want you to focus on the future and not the past. You will be back there with me.
Azzi reached out slowly, like she was afraid Paige might change her mind. Her fingers brushed Paige's as she took the jacket.
"Thank you," she whispered.
Then, after a beat, quieter, almost embarrassed, "Can you… can you wear the Hopkins one while you are here? And you can give it back to me before you leave?"
Paige smiled, soft and a little wrecked. "Yeah," she said. "Of course."
Azzi relaxed then, shoulders finally dropping as she tugged the UConn zip-up closer, bunching the fabric under her hands like she needed to keep it there. It looked too big on her too.
Paige liked that more than she was ready to admit.
Azzi shifted carefully, a small wince slipping through before she could hide it, and Paige was on her feet instantly, hands hovering like she wanted to help but didn't know how.
"Sorry," Azzi murmured.
"You don't have to apologize," Paige said immediately. "Ever."
Azzi hesitated, fingers worrying at the zipper before she looked up again. "Can you… stay? For a bit?" Another pause, her voice softer now. "Can you maybe… come closer?"
Paige didn't hesitate.
She slipped her shoes off and climbed carefully onto the bed beside her, easing herself down until Azzi could lean into her without jostling her knee. Azzi exhaled as soon as Paige's arm wrapped around her shoulders, tucking herself into Paige's side.
Paige adjusted without thinking, one hand resting warm and steady on Azzi's upper arm, the other smoothing gently over her hair. Azzi pressed her face into Paige's shoulder, breathing her in, fingers curling into the fabric of Paige's shirt.
They stayed like that for a long time.
Paige felt Azzi's breathing even out, felt the tension slowly drain from her body as the minutes passed. Without realizing it, she leaned down and pressed a soft kiss into the top of Azzi's head, lingering there for just a second longer than necessary.
"I hate this," Azzi murmured at one point, voice muffled against Paige's chest.
"I know," Paige whispered back, pressing her cheek into Azzi's hair. "But you are not doing it alone. I am here with you, okay?"
Azzi nodded, tightening her hold just a little. Her eyes flicked up, unfocused at first, then settling on Paige's face. Paige felt it immediately, the change in her attention.
Azzi's gaze dropped, just for a second, to Paige's mouth. Then back up to her eyes. Then down again, like she was testing the thought without daring to act on it. She didn't move closer. She didn't pull away either.
Paige finally understood.
She leaned down slowly, giving Azzi time to change her mind if she wanted to. When she didn't, Paige pressed a soft, careful peck to her lips.
Azzi's breath hitched, and then she smiled shyly. She didn't say anything. She just tucked herself back into Paige's neck, curling closer, her face warm against her skin. Paige tightened her arm around her and rested her cheek against Azzi's hair again, heart steadying.
Paige didn't pray anymore that night. She didn't ask for miracles. She just held Azzi while she slept, letting her feel safe.
And when Paige left the next morning, the Hopkins hoodie stayed behind. So did the UConn zip-up.
April, 2020
By April 2020, Paige was certain Azzi wasn't just borrowing or stealing her clothes anymore. It had turned into a game between them.
And Azzi was very clearly winning.
Paige had come to stay with the Fudds for "training" during lockdown, which sounded official enough when they explained it to other people.
But Paige knew it was more than that.
She was there because Azzi had asked, and there was no version of reality where Paige said no to her.
They still called themselves best friends, technically, even though the label barely covered it now. It didn't explain the way they gravitated toward each other without thinking, or how Paige's attention snapped into place every time Azzi walked into a room. It definitely didn't explain what happened when no one else was around.
They shared a room at the Fudds', always had since Paige arrived. No one suggested the guest room. Neither of them pretended they wanted to.
And tonight, after a late workout session in the gym, they ended up back on the carpet of Azzi's room, both too tired to bother with the bed yet.
Paige lay sprawled on her back, tank top sticking to her skin, legs stretched out and heavy, staring up at the ceiling and trying not to think about how warm she felt.
Azzi sat cross-legged against the wall in Paige's state championship hoodie, her back pressed into it, one knee tipped outward with a stretch of bare thigh visible beneath the hem.
One of Paige's favourites. The hoodie, obviously.
The newest piece of Azzi's permanent collection, apparently.
The sleeves were pushed up to Azzi's elbows, exposing her forearms, the fabric loose enough that it slipped slightly off one shoulder when she shifted.
Paige didn't bother pretending she wasn't staring.
"You know," Paige said eventually, keeping her voice light even as her eyes traced the line of Azzi's collarbone, "I earned that hoodie first."
Azzi smirked, still scrolling on her phone, but she shifted slightly, leaning back just enough that the hoodie rode higher on her legs. "Did you, P?"
"That wasn't a question," Paige said, amused and quite distracted by the newly revealed skin.
Azzi finally set her phone aside and tilted her head back against the wall, exposing her throat. "Feels like it's mine now."
Paige pushed herself up, resting her elbows on her knees, closer than she had been a second ago. "You could at least pretend you feel bad about stealing from me."
Azzi's eyes flicked up to meet hers. "Do you really want it back?"
Paige hesitated. Just a fraction too long.
"…Yes," She lied, crawling forward, closing the distance between them inch by inch. "Or you need to pay for it."
That did it.
Something in Azzi's expression changed. The playful teasing glare edged into something more intentional.
That was all Paige needed.
She leaned in slowly, ready to end the argument entirely and focus on something way more fun.
Azzi let it happen for half a second. Then she smiled mischievously.
Before Paige could close the distance, Azzi slipped sideways, ducking out from under her with a soft laugh and scrambling backward toward the bed.
"Too slow," Azzi said, already halfway across her room.
Paige blinked once, then grinned. "Oh, you are asking for it now."
Azzi stopped close to the bed, lifting her arms over her head, exposing a strip of her stomach. "Am I?" she asked, innocent in tone only. "You were the one complaining about a hoodie."
Paige didn't bother answering, she lunged.
Azzi squealed through a loud lough breaking free as Paige followed and the two of them tangled together. Paige caught her by the waist, momentum carrying them both onto the bed, the mattress dipping under their combined weight.
"Paige..." Azzi laughed, trying to twist away.
"Nope," Paige said, breathless, hands firm at her sides. "You don't get to steal my clothes and then run from me."
Azzi wriggled, clearly enjoying herself, knees bumping Paige's hips as she tried to flip them.
For a second it almost worked, but Paige shifted her weight, and suddenly Azzi was pinned beneath her, hair fanned out on the pillow, eyes bright and unrepentant.
They froze there.
Paige hovered over Azzi, close enough to feel the heat of her body and notice the way Azzi's breathing had became more shallow. The grin on Paige's face shifted into something heavier.
"You done running?" Paige asked quietly.
"Paige... please."
Paige was about to give in and lean in. Instead, Azzi moved.
She hooked her legs around Paige's waist and rolled them in one smooth motion, reversing their positions. Paige landed on her back with a surprised laugh, Azzi straddling her hips.
"There," Azzi said, pleased. "That's better."
Paige stared up at her, heart pounding. "What now?"
Azzi shrugged, hands sliding to the hem of the hoodie. "Watch and see."
She took her time pulling it over her head, dragging the fabric upward inch by inch, letting Paige watch the slow reveal of skin beneath. When it finally came free, Azzi tossed it aside without looking, hair falling loose around her shoulders.
She leaned forward, bracing her hands on either side of Paige's head, close enough that their noses nearly brushed.
"You still want it back?" Azzi asked softly.
Paige swallowed. "No," she said honestly. "I just want you."
Paige kissed her slowly, letting it stretch, letting herself feel it instead of rushing through it. Her thumb traced the familiar line of Azzi's jaw, brushed the corner of her mouth just to feel her react, then dipped back in, deepening the kiss.
She knew exactly how to kiss Azzi by now.
She knew exactly how much pressure made Azzi exhale softly through her nose, the barely there sound that always gave her away. She knew how long to linger before pulling back to watch Azzi's eyes darken, unfocused, like she was deciding whether to pull Paige closer or just melt into it.
Azzi's hands slid higher up Paige's back, fingers grazing her shoulder blades, nails dragging just enough to make Paige's breath catch. Paige leaned in instinctively, their foreheads brushing, noses bumping in that slightly clumsy way that came from this intimacy being still fairly new to them.
"I missed this," Paige murmured, the confession slipping out between kisses before she could stop herself.
Azzi paused for a second. Her eyes flicked up to Paige's, searching, unreadable, then softened completely.
"Me too," Azzi said quietly at last.
Paige leaned in again, her mouth leaving Azzi's lips to trail along her jaw, down to that spot just under her ear she knew too well.
She felt the sharp inhale immediately, the tiny hitch in Azzi's breathing that always gave her away. Paige smiled against her skin, teeth grazing lightly before soothing the spot with her mouth.
Azzi's hands tightened on her back, nails pressing in, and the quiet, frustrated sound she made sent a warm, steady pull through Paige's stomach.
"You really do look better in my stuff," Paige murmured against her neck, lips dragging back up toward her ear. "But you look even better out of it."
Azzi laughed softly, breathless, tilting her head just enough to give Paige more room, clearly enjoying herself far too much.. "Then why," she asked, voice low and amused, "are we still talking about hoodies?"
Paige pulled back just enough to see her face, smirking at the challenge there.
Her fingers found the hem of Azzi's shorts, brushing along the curve of her hip, feeling goosebumps rise beneath her touch. Azzi's hands tightened at her shoulder blades in response, thumbs tracing slow circles that were anything but absentminded now.
"Good point," she said.
And then Paige kissed her again, deeper this time, unhurried but intent while her hand slipped fully under the waistband of Azzi's shorts, fingers brushing warm skin.
Azzi shifted in Paige's lap, her hips rolling in a slow, needy rhythm, grinding down against the firm press of Paige's hand, chasing her touch.
A soft, brathless moan escaped Azzi's lips, warm and ragged against Paige's ear, sending a cascade of shivers down her spine as Azzi nuzzled closer, her breath mingling with whispers of pleasure.
The hoodie was forgotten somewhere behind them, completely irrelevant now. Paige's focus had narrowed to the way Azzi leaned into her touch, her body responding without hesitation.
And if Paige had her way, that hoodie was staying in Azzi's possession. She knew exactly what would happen the next time she saw Azzi wearing it.
February, 2021
Since the night Azzi told her she was committing to UConn, Paige had been living in a strange, jittery mix of excitement and dread. Like every good feeling she had about Azzi came with the constant worry of losing it.
Paige wanted Azzi at UConn. That part had never been in question.
She wanted her as her backcourt partner, wanted to walk to get ice cream together, to have movie nights, to be able to annoy her in person without needing to fly across multiple states just to make sure she had been forgiven when Azzi refused to answer her calls.
What she hadn't really been ready to admit until then was the fact that the small, careful crush she had been quietly carrying for years had gone and done something reckless.
Because somehow, somewhere between sharing a bedroom during lockdown, months of long-distance FaceTimes, and the easy, familiar way Azzi always made herself at home in Paige's clothes, the crush had turned into something bigger.
Something she couldn't joke her way out of anymore.
Paige was fully, undeniably in love with her best friend.
And because the universe had a cruel sense of timing, right after Paige left for UConn last October, Azzi decided to "be smart" and suggested they forget the benefits part of whatever it was they had been doing.
She said it calmly, reasonably, like she was offering Paige a gift. "You should go enjoy college. Figure out what you like. What you want. Without needing to worry about whatever this is."
And Paige, who didn't know how to say what I like is you, what I want is you, had nodded and pretended that made sense.
So she tried.
Paige threw herself into dating during the first months of freshman year. She went out. She said yes to things. She flirted with people who were nice enough and easy enough but meant absolutely nothing to her.
Which was how she ended up standing in her dorm room, debating whether she should bother changing shirts before walking across campus to a girl's apartment.
A girl she had met last weekend at Ted's. Someone whose name she thought was Brianna, but might have been Brielle and whose most memorable quality was a cute laugh Paige was already pretty sure she couldn't remember correctly.
Her phone buzzed on the desk.
A FaceTime from Azzi.
For a second, Paige considered ignoring it. Not because she didn't want to talk to Azzi, God, she always wanted to talk to her, but because it was getting harder to keep pretending this whole thing of hooking up with people who weren't Azzi made any sense, especially after talking to her.
But guilt won out fast. Paige swiped to answer.
The screen filled with darkness at first, then she saw the soft, red curve of lips she knew better than her own. Then she saw the edge of a UConn training T-shirt her stomach recognized immediately.
Her own training shirt.
The one Azzi had "borrowed" when she visited for Paige's birthday in the fall and never returned it.
"What's wrong, Az?" The words were out before she had even thought about them, because the second she saw the wobble in those lips, every other plan she had for the night dropped out of her head.
Azzi shrugged, her voice small when it came.
"I miss you." She paused, then added more quietly, like she wasn't sure she was allowed to say it. "I know I should just…suck it up and let you be. But I just needed to see you for a second tonight."
Paige felt something twist hard inside her chest.
She had seen Azzi frustrated, competitive, closed off, but this was something else entirely. This was Azzi questioning herself, checking whether it was okay to want Paige's attention, her time, and her presence.
She never wanted Azzi to doubt that she was wanted. Never wanted her to feel like she had to ask permission to need her.
"Hey," Paige said, leaning closer to the camera, her voice dropping instinctively. "You don't have to suck anything up. I am right here, okay? You can call me whenever you want. For a second. For an hour. It doesn't matter."
Azzi nodded, eyes dropping for a moment before lifting again, still shiny. "Were you… going somewhere?"
Paige's gaze flicked to the clock. She was already cutting it close if she wanted to make it over in time, and she knew it.
She didn't even have to think about it.
"Not anymore," she shrugged
One quick thumb press and she was typing out a vague Hey, something came up, can't make it tonight to Brianna or Brielle, hitting send before she could feel bad about it.
Because if the choice was between walking across campus to hook up with someone whose name Paige wasn't even sure of, or sitting here on her bed watching Azzi Fudd in her training shirt looking at her knowing Paige was the only person Azzi wanted to see right now…
There wasn't a decision to be made.
Paige shifted against the headboard, settling in. "So," she said, aiming for light even though her heart was still pounding, "you have got me now. What do you want to do for the rest of the night, Az?"
Azzi's mouth twitched like she wanted to smile but wasn't ready to give it up yet. "Just… be with you."
Paige smiled, soft and a little helpless. "Yeah," she said. "I can do that."
And she stayed, and after that night, after hearing Azzi's voice like that, Paige stopped trying. It wasn't a decision so much as a knowing feeling. Whatever she had been searching for, she wasn't going to find it anywhere else, it had always come back to Azzi.
And once Paige let herself admit that, there was no reason left to pretend otherwise.
October, 2021
By the time Azzi had been at UConn for two months, Paige realized how little time it had taken for them to fall back into each other.
They weren't friends who used to be more. They weren't quite just best friends again either. There wasn't a word for it, nothing neat enough to pin it down. It was just… them. And the them they were now leaned toward something inevitable, hovering there without quite tipping into it yet.
It showed itself in the smallest, quietest choices at first.
Azzi lingered whenever she came over, never rushing to leave, never checking the time like she was worried about overstaying. She always ended up settling into the spot closest to Paige on the bed or the couch, knees brushing, shoulders pressed together.
Paige never moved away. She didn't shift to make more space or pretend not to notice. She just stayed, letting Azzi choose that nearness again and again.
Without really meaning to, Paige started memorizing Azzi's schedule. She knew which corner of the library Azzi liked best, the one with the big windows and comfortable chairs. More than once, Azzi looked up from her notes to find Paige already there, backpack dropped at her feet, acting like she had just happened to pass by at exactly the right time. And when they packed up, Paige always walked her home. Like the idea of Azzi walking back alone had never crossed her mind as an option.
Azzi did it back in her own way.
On days Paige had rehab sessions ran long, Azzi would show up afterward with Paige's favourite sandwich already in hand, brushing it off like she had been hungry anyway, even though Paige knew she had gone out of her way. Sometimes she would leave it on Paige's desk with a note scribbled on a scrap of paper or she would simply just hand it over with a soft, "Eat," like she had already decided that taking care of Paige was her job.
After classes, Paige found excuses to stop by Azzi's room, and Azzi always seemed to be waiting for her, a mug of tea already cooling on the desk like she had anticipated the visit.
They sat side by side, legs tangled on the bed, talking about nothing important, like practice, a song Paige had on repeat or something ridiculous a teammate had said. Intil Paige realized it was late again and she should probable go home to sleep.
Somewhere along the way, they started introducing little rituals of their own.
After every away game, win or lose, they would find the nearest ice cream place still open, sliding into booths, talking through the game. Paige ordered for both of them without asking because she already knew what Azzi liked.
Tuesdays became Azzi's.
She started cooking in the shared kitchen of her apartment, texting Paige halfway through her last class to ask what she wanted. Paige would show up already in her pajamas, hair damp from the shower. Azzi always had something warm waiting. They ate together at the counter or on the floor of Azzi's room, legs crossed, shoulders touching, plates balanced between them as they talked about nothing and everything at once.
Paige noticed it all and she knew Azzi did too. But they weren't rushing anything. They let the routines settle and the space between them fill naturally with all the things that made it feel impossible to imagine it any other way.
They didn't talk about where it was heading but they both knew it was only a matter of time.
And that was why, when her door swung open without a knock one Friday evening, Paige wasn't surprised to see Azzi stroll in like she owned the place.
What did surprise her was the way Azzi stopped short halfway into the room, her gaze catching for a split second before darting away.
Paige was half dressed, still in black boxers and a sports bra. They had seen each other in far less presentable states, so embarrassment wasn't the reason her pulse jumped. It was more likely the way Azzi checked her out before catching herself.
Azzi swallowed, then fixed her attention on the far wall with sudden, exaggerated interest, like it had become fascinating out of nowhere.
"Uh," Azzi said, her voice just a shade rougher than usual. "Can I borrow something for tonight?"
Paige blinked at her, then tilted her head, a faint smirk pulling at her mouth. "Since when do you ask?"
Azzi shifted her weight, hands shoved into the front pocket of her hoodie. "Can't expect you to be fine with it forever," she said, still not quite meeting Paige's eyes.
Paige hummed thoughtfully, eyes flicking over her in an exaggerated way, like she was seriously considering it. "Wow," she said lightly. "Growth."
Azzi finally looked at her then, eyes narrowing just a little. "Hey."
Paige laughed and crossed the room, closing the distance between them until she could catch the faint scent of Azzi's shampoo. She reached out, thumb brushing once over her pulse like she couldn't help herself, and tugged her toward the open closet.
"Az," she said, softer now but still teasing, "what's mine is yours. Always. That is never gonna change."
Azzi's expression warmed immediately, a little unsure but unmistakably fond, and it made Paige's stomach do that familiar, stupid swoop. Azzi ducked her head like she was trying to hide it, but the smile gave her away.
Paige turned to the closet, flipping through hangers with exaggerated seriousness.
"I mean," Paige added casually over her shoulder, "you do have a reputation to maintain."
"For what?" Azzi asked, suspicious.
"Stealing my clothes," Paige said, pulling out a black top that hung loose at her own shoulders. She held it up between them. "Gotta make sure the collection stays curated."
Azzi took the top, her fingers brushing Paige's and lingering. Paige looked up and saw something in Azzi's eyes that made Paige's pulse speed up once again.
Paige acted on it.
She slipped an arm around Azzi's waist and pulled her in. Azzi melted into it immediately, like her body had been waiting for exactly this. One hand slid up around Paige's neck, fingers curling into her hair, and she tucked her face into the space just below Paige's jaw.
Paige breathed her in, letting Azzi's unique smell relax her own body. Azzi's curls brushed Paige's cheek as she settled and Paige felt her relaxed fully in her arms, all the tension draining out of her.
Paige tightened her hold just a little, resting her chin against Azzi's head, enjoying the weight of her there. She pressed a small, instinctive kiss into Azzi's hair.
"I really love having you here," she murmured quietly. "At UConn with me."
Azzi exhaled against her neck, a soft sound, her grip tightening in response.
"I love being here with you too."
Paige held her for another long moment, smiling to herself, knowing, without needing it said that this was already home for both of them.
Ted's was its usual Friday-night chaos, music thudding through the floor, bodies packed shoulder to shoulder, the air warm with sweat and cheap beer.
Paige moved through the place easily, greeting teammates, nodding at people she knew, slipping easily up to the bar. Azzi stayed close, tucked just behind her shoulder, one hand hovering near Paige's arm. Whenever the crowd shifted, her fingers brushed Paige's wrist like a quiet check-in that she was still there with her.
Paige signed for the bartender, already pulling her card out.
"What do you want?" Paige asked, leaning close to Azzi's ear so she didn't have to shout.
Azzi smiled at her. "You choose, you know what I like."
Paige grinned pleased, and turned back to the bar.
She liked that. Liked knowing and taking care of her. Liked that Azzi trusted her.
When the drinks came, she handed Azzi hers first, watching closely as she took a sip. Azzi's face lit up immediately with a delighted grin just for Paige.
Paige relaxed only then, lifting her own glass.
They didn't even make it through one song before someone from the men's team caught Paige's attention near the other side of the bar. She groaned quietly but smiled, holding up one finger at Azzi in apology.
"Two seconds," she mouthed.
Azzi nodded without complaint, lifting her glass in a lazy salute and leaning back against the high-top. As Paige turned away, Azzi's fingers brushed her hand, a silent sign of I will be right here.
Paige was gone for maybe a minute. Two at most. But when she turned back, drink still in hand, she clocked it instantly.
Azzi wasn't alone.
She was talking to a guy Paige didn't recognize. Tall, wearing a backwards cap, leaning just a little too comfortably into Azzi's space. Azzi laughed at something he said, polite but distracted, her body still tilted toward the space Paige had just vacated.
Freshman, Paige clocked immediately. Which was unfortunate for him, because Paige had spent the last two months making sure everyone on campus who mattered understood one very simple thing:
Azzi Fudd was not available.
Of course, Azzi didn't know that. Paige had never announced it. She had just… handled it. Apparently, this guy had missed the memo.
And then Azzi looked up.
Their eyes met across the room. Her gaze flicked to the guy, then back to Paige, eyebrows lifting just slightly like she was checking in, You seeing this?
Paige answered without thinking. She moved.
She walked back with easy confidence, and when she reached them, her focus narrowed immediately to Azzi, like nothing else in the room mattered. She slipped in close, arm wrapping around Azzi's waist with quiet certainty, pulling her in until Azzi fit naturally against her side.
Azzi leaned back into her instantly, hand coming up to rest on Paige's stomach, thumb rubbing their in quiet reassurance.
Paige didn't even look at the guy.
"Sorry Az," she said lightly, lips close to Azzi's ear. "I am all yours now."
Azzi tipped her head back to look at her, eyes warm and unmistakably pleased. "Are you?"
Paige smiled down at her, her hand staying firm at Azzi's waist, thumb pressing in just enough to be felt. Her gaze dipped deliberately to Azzi's top, fingers brushing the hem with quiet familiarity.
"That looks really good on you," Paige said, casual but loaded. "Still my shirt, though."
Azzi laughed, tilting her head, clearly entertained. "I know."
Only then did Paige glance at the guy.
Just a brief, polite nod that said this isn't your conversation.
The guy hesitated, opened his mouth like he might say something, then thought better of it.
"Uh," he said, stepping back. "Nice meeting you, Azzi."
Azzi nodded politely. "You too."
He disappeared into the crowd without another word.
Paige took a slow sip of her drink, arm still snug around Azzi's waist. "Freshman?" she asked lightly.
Azzi hummed, amused. "Probably. He was asking about my major."
Paige nodded. "Yeah. That checks out."
Azzi turned in her arms, facing her more fully now, one hand sliding up to rest at the back of Paige's neck. "You are very… protective tonight."
Paige shrugged, unapologetic, thumb tracing a small circle at Azzi's side. "Just taking care of what's mine."
Azzi didn't tease her for that.
She just leaned in closer, shoulder fitting perfectly against Paige's chest, smiling into her drink like she found the whole thing deeply entertaining.
And Paige stayed right there, arm firm around her, perfectly content to let the rest of the bar figure it out on their own.
A few hours later they stumbled through the door to Paige's room, still laughing about something Nika had yelled across the bar, walking so close their shoulders bumped with every step.
Azzi kicked off her shoes and tossed the borrowed top onto Paige's bed, pulling on her usual shirt she wore whenever she slept over at Paige's.
A faded USA shirt from Paige winning the youth Olympics in 2019.
Then for a moment she hesitated, rocking back on her heels, looking over at Paige. She wore an expression Paige couldn't quite read.
Azzi looked like she was working up to something.
"Did you mean it?" Azzi asked quietly at last.
Paige glanced up at her. "Mean what?"
"What you said earlier," Azzi said, her voice even quieter now. "That what's yours is mine." She hesitated, then added, almost careful, "Does that also mean… your heart too?"
Fucking finally.
The question barely finished forming before Paige crossed the room.
Two strides and she was there, her hands coming up to frame Azzi's face, thumbs brushing the soft warmth of her cheeks.
Paige looked into Azzi's eyes for a second before she closed the last inch and finally kissed her.
The kiss wasn't tentative or careful this time.
It was warm and sure and full of all the almost moments they had been circling for ages Every look, every almost touch, every too long pause they had been living for weeks were made into one perfect, unapologetic kiss.
Azzi made a tiny, happy sound against her mouth, one Paige felt more than heard, and then she was kissing her back like she had been ready for this all along.
Her hands found Paige's waist, fingers curling into the thin fabric of her shirt, pulling her closer until there was no space left to question. Azzi's lips were soft and confident now, moving against hers.
Paige smiled into the kiss, deepening it just a little, her hand slipping to the back of Azzi's neck. Azzi's lips were soft and confident now, moving against hers.
When they finally broke apart for air, they stayed close. Foreheads pressed together, breaths mingling, Paige's thumbs still tracing slow, affectionate circles along Azzi's cheekbones.
"Yeah," Paige murmured, her voice warm. "My heart too."
Azzi smiled wide immediately like something had clicked into place. Her hands tugged lightly at Paige's waist, bumping their noses together.
"Good," Azzi said, playful but pleased. "Took you long enough."
Paige laughed under her breath, leaning in so close her lips brushed the words. "You could have said something earlier too."
Azzi's grin turned teasing. "Please. I have been obvious for years. I don't steal anyone else's clothes. Only yours."
Paige kissed her again, not just to shut her up, but because for the first time she didn't have to question what it meant. It felt allowed now.
And as she held Azzi there, familiar and certain in her arms, Paige thought back to that plane ride years ago. To a tired, overexcited kid fresh off her first gold medal, handing over a Hopkins hoodie without a second thought. Back then, it had felt like nothing more than a friendly gesture.
Now she finally understood.
That hoodie hadn't been a coincidence. It had been the first quiet choice in a long line of them. The first time Paige had given something of herself without keeping score.
And Paige suddenly knew she had never cared whether Azzi borrowed her clothes or stole them outright. She had been giving her pieces of herself to Azzi all along willingly.
She had been choosing Azzi from the beginning. And she was ready to keep choosing her, every time.
a/n: this is more of a prologue than a chapter but o well
ao3 link
it’s 12:46 a.m., the a.c. in her new apartment isn’t working, and azzi is ready to kill herself. tomorrow is the first day of her big girl job—junior brand manager at a decent-sized company, with decent pay, the result of five years of studying—and she’s too jittery to sleep, even though she really should. but it’s like her body knows tomorrow is an important day and has decided to betray her in the worst way possible, self sabotage in the form of poorly-timed insomnia. if she falls asleep at her desk tomorrow, she might actually have to quit and move across the country to live on a mountain with a couple of goats. her parents would be so disappointed. she has to go to sleep.
the first problem to deal with is the a.c. not working—but in all honesty, it might be working fine. it’s just that the control system is so unnecessarily confusing that azzi still hasn’t figured it out. why are there so many buttons? what the hell does auto cool for heat even mean? she tosses her blanket to the side, the slight breeze from the motion cooling her sweaty skin for a brief moment, then turns on the flashlight on her phone and steps out of her bedroom. the circular blue screen of the control system stares at her mockingly at the end of the hallway.
74 degrees fahrenheit is the current temperature of her apartment. 20 degrees cooler than it was outside today, but still an abysmal number to be reading. she clicks the button with an arrow pointing down, watching the set temperature count down to 66, then watches as the current temperature changes to 75.
incredible.
she’s managed to find the only apartment complex in dallas, texas, with a sentient a.c. system that also hates her.
she stares at the control panel for another moment, clicks the down arrow one more time out of spite, and watches the number climb to 76.
okay. so that's not happening.
she shuffles back to her bedroom, grabs the hem of her shirt, and pulls it over her head, dropping it somewhere on the floor, and cracks the window open two inches, just enough to let in whatever sad excuse for a breeze dallas has to offer at this hour. she stands in front of it for a second, hovering a hand near the bottom mesh of the window screen. a warm, vaguely humid exhale of air moves past her.
it’s not much, but she’ll take it.
she gets back into bed in just her sleep shorts, kicks the blanket fully off the bed, and closes her eyes, trying to will herself to sleep.
she's already tried the obvious things. she's tried the no screens thing and lasted four minutes. she's tried counting backwards from three hundred and lost count somewhere around two-sixty because she started thinking about her commute tomorrow morning and whether she'd be able to find parking and if she'd packed her bag right. she's tried lying still and doing a body scan meditation that she half remembered from a youtube video she watched two years ago.
none of it worked.
but maybe counting sheep will?
she gives it a few moments, picturing fluffy white sheep against a dark blue background with sparkly white stars, jumping over a wooden fence. ten sheep, then twenty sheep, then forty five sheep, all jumping with smiles on their faces and bleating sleepily. and for a moment, the sheep slip away into darkness. the edges of unconsciousness creeping in slowly as her breathing evens out.
until a sheep dressed in a suit and tie comes back, ignoring the fence in favor of telling her she’s fired for coming in late.
fuck the sheep.
she closes her eyes again, breathing in and out for a minute or so, before giving up. she’s not going to find sleep by herself tonight, it seems.
she grabs her phone from the nightstand and opens tiktok, typing how to sleep fast into the search bar as a last resort. the fast is the crux of her search—it’s almost 1 a.m. now.
the results are about what she expected; cold water, magnesium, no caffeine after 2pm. thanks so much, incredibly helpful, i'll get right on that, she thinks grumpily, turning down the volume before the too-perky health guru can lecture her about drinking tea before bed. she scrolls past a video of someone explaining sleep cycles, past a white noise compilation, past something about mouth taping that she's not desperate enough to try (yet), and then the algorithm serves her a video titled basketball asmr 🏀 tapping and scratching (no talking) by someone called pb.asmr.
she pauses. the thumbnail is just a pair of hands holding a basketball. they are nice hands though, azzi can admit that.
but azzi is a grown woman with a masters degree. she is not going to watch basketball asmr at one in the morning because she's too anxious to sleep before her first day of work.
she clicks on it.
the video opens on those same hands, turning the basketball over slowly, rolling it against their carpeted floor. then a voice—low, but feminine—says: "today we are going to be doing...basketball asmr."
azzi can hear it, the tiny pause before basketball asmr. the way the word basketball is said with the slightest burst of laughter before being reined back in, like the person behind the camera is physically biting the inside of their cheek.
she watches the hands tap the surface of the ball in a soft, uneven rhythm, alternating between tapping then scratching down the length of the ball, running a clean, manicured finger against the black seams. not even that good, honestly. the audio isn't perfect and the lighting is a little flat and whoever is making this video clearly thinks it's a little funny that they're making this video.
azzi watches the whole thing, one hand holding her phone, the other tucked under her pillow, cheek pressed into the silk covers. it’s more calming than she expected—the only asmr videos she’s watched are slime-poking and soap-cutting, and those normally only elicit jealousy that she doesn’t have slime to poke and soap to waste. but her eyes, at least, finally feel a little heavier from the basketball tapping, though it could also be the result of staring at her phone in the dark for so long.
she opens the account, tapping on the blurry profile picture of a blonde girl leaning against a wall and wearing a cap pulled low to cover her face. pb.asmr has around fourteen thousand followers. not bad, azzi thinks, for the quality of content being offered. the bio says your favorite basketball player's favorite asmr account, which isn’t enough to make her laugh, but earns a slight exhale.
she scrolls through the videos, and there are a lot more; tapping on a hardcover book, scratching on a textured wall, hands running over different fabrics. the quality is inconsistent and the premises are a little dumb and whoever this pb.asmr is, she started an asmr account as a joke and then just…kept going it seems. they’re definitely not dedicated to the craft enough to have all the lighting and backgrounds set up nicely. most of the videos are filmed shakily and under the glowing lamplight of someone’s—pb.asmr’s bedroom.
azzi manages to scroll down to the first video, posted in 2023, and it’s a three minute long video of tapping and pressing on the buttons of a playstation controller.
she turns up the volume a tad bit before clicking it. the introduction is short, just a “hey guys–” the same pleasantly low voice pausing for a soft laugh, “here’s some asmr,” before a finger reaches out to push the joystick.
enjoy 7k words of a story that has lived rent free in my head for a year now
Location: Netflix Production Studios, Los Angeles
Year: 2026
The studio was quiet except for the hum of the air conditioner and the soft click of the camera lens adjusting focus. Paige sits in the center of the studio, at thirty-one she’s announcing her retirement from professional tennis.
Across from her, the interviewer glances down at his tablet, he leans forward, shifting the tone of the conversation. “We know she’s been a part of your life and career,” he begins softly. “She was a part of your team during the incident in 2017. But who exactly is Azzi Fudd in your story?”
Paige doesn’t answer immediately. Instead she lets out a small laugh and her gaze shifts away from the camera and looks besides her. There is only a wall to her right but it seems like she sees something more.
“Azzi is the easiest thing I’ve earned,” Paige said, her voice quieter and softer than it has been all afternoon.
The interviewer tilts his head, intrigued. "What do you mean?"
"I mean that no person belongs as easily in your life as someone you were destined to find," Paige explained. She smiled, a genuine, private expression. "I always tell her this, but Azzi and I... we were written in each other's destinies. I mean, how often is it you find your person at a random bar on a random Thursday night in a city of ten million people?"
13 years ago New York City (2013)
Paige had just played the most embarrassing game of her life. Yes, it really was that bad, midway through the game she landed straight on her noggin, and her nose started projectile bleeding on centre court. She's been sulking all day since. Fed up with her antics her manager told her to get out and touch some grass (with something other than her head at least). Hence her sitting on a sticky wooden table inside a slightly rundown bar/restaurant. She had just finished her nutritious meal of french fries, and was contemplating the logistics of smuggling the outrageously filled ketchup bowl (it truly was outrageous, there was more ketchup then there were fries) back to her hotel to have with her leftover potato chips.
She got up from her seat just as someone else was trying to pass by.
Smack
Paige collided heavily with the stranger, sending her entire bowl of ketchup airborne. The sauce splattered across the front of the girl’s jacket. It looked like a crime scene: The death of Paige’s potato chip dreams.
“Oh shit, fuck I’m so, so sorry” Paige gasped, immediately grabbing a handful of the flimsy paper napkins and frantically dabbing at the thick red stain.
The girl blinked, looking down at the disaster, then up at Paige’s panicked face. She sighed, but there was no anger in her eyes. "It's okay."
Wiping down the fabric with now less aggressive strokes, Paige let out a breath. "Thanks for not yelling at me. I already had a horrible day."
The girl pointedly looked down at her ketchup-coated jacket as Paige continued to scrub. "It's fine," she said quietly. "My day's not going great either. I understand."
"Oof. Sorry about that again," Paige muttered, wincing at the smear.
"It's okay," the girl replied, leaning against the edge of the table. "It was shitty before our little ketchup crime scene."
Paige paused her scrubbing, looking up through her blonde baby hairs. "You want to at least vent while I clean your jacket up?"
The girl let out a dry laugh. "Oh, it wasn't that bad. Just got stood up. And I wasn't even the one making the plans. Like, bro, if you're going to make plans, persuade me. Why would you not show up? I could have been in bed watching Netflix instead of walking around this fuckass city trying to find the restaurant."
Paige chuckled, the tension leaving her shoulders. "So I'm guessing you’re not from New York?"
"No."
Paige stopped wiping and just stared at the girl, her blue eyes wide, waiting for her to continue.
"I’m from Virginia."
"Nice. The DMV," Paige said, tossing the ruined napkins into a small trash bin next to the table. "I’m from Minnesota."
At that, the girl looked genuinely surprised, her eyebrows shooting up.
"What?" Paige laughed, crossing her arms. "What's so surprising?"
"Nothing," the girl said, inspecting the more than faint stain left on her sleeve. "You just look like you’re from here."
"That doesn't seem like a compliment, from what I've garnered about your opinion towards this city."
"Nah," she smirked, looking Paige up and down. "The people are okay. It's just public transport."
Paige smiled. "So, did you end up eating at least, after all your troubles?"
"Yeah, of course, but the place was too expensive for me to just eat dinner by myself, so I came next door here."
Now Paige looked surprised, her jaw dropping slightly.
The girl noticed. "What? Now why are you surprised?"
"No, it's just... when people get stood up, they usually go home and order Uber Eats and sulk in bed."
"What?" The girl scoffed. "Why would I waste all the effort I spent getting here?"
"True, true.” Paige tapped her knuckles against the wooden table. "Well, if you already ate... you wanna get a drink?"
The girl nodded. "Sure. So, why’re you having a bad day?"
Paige groaned, burying her face in her hands for a brief second before looking back up. "I had a fuckass tennis game."
"You play tennis?"
"Yeah."
"Like, professionally? Or rec?"
Paige gave her a deadpan look. "Bro, you think I would be this pressed about a rec tennis match?"
The girl chuckled. "So how much did you lose by?"
"I didn't lose."
"Well, then why’re you upset?"
Paige sighed, tracing a circle on the table with her index finger. " I was winning by so much I wasn’t really locked in, so when I reached forward to hit her serve....I fucking tripped over my own foot and fell on my face. And my nose started bleeding."
The girl’s eyes softened, though a tiny smirk threatened to break through. "Ohhh. Damn, I'm sorry."
"Its okay," Paige muttered, taking a sip of her water.
They drank in a comfortable, sudden silence for a few minutes, the background noise of the bar filling the space. Then, Paige noticed the girl's attention had drifted. Her eyes were locked onto something in the far corner of the room.
Paige started to joke, turning her head toward the corner. "What, did your friend actually end up coming or something—"
Her voice cut off. On the mounted television above the bar, ESPN was running a sports replay reel. There, in high definition, was a replay of Paige tripping over her own feet, face-planting into the court, and scrambling for her nose.
The girl opened her mouth, a massive grin forming.
Paige pointed a warning finger right at her face. "I swear to god, if you say anything, I'll literally slap you."
"Hey," the girl said, raising her hands defensively but laughing openly now. "I was just going to say, look on the positive side. I'm sure your game got like crazy viewership, at least."
"Yeah, just what I want," Paige groaned, slumping into the booth. "More people watching me fall on my face like an idiot."
The girl chuckled. "Well, when you word it like that..."
Two Years Later (2015)
Two years had passed, filled with tournaments and grueling training, but on another random evening, Paige found herself back in New York.
Walking into the same bar, she saw a familiar face sitting by the window.
Paige walked right up to the table, sliding into the seat opposite her without an invitation. "Damn. Have you been stalking me the past two years or something?"
The girl looked up, a slow smirk spreading across her face. “Actually I live here now”
And Paige couldn’t just not troll when the opportunity was presented to her so clearly. “Shit I know the rent in New York's crazy, but I’m sure you could have found something better than a gross table at a rundown bar”
“Shut up you know what I meant, I live in the city now…like 10 minutes from here”
They ended up ordering food, eating together just like they had before, the two-year gap fading away in seconds. As they cleared their plates, Paige realized something ridiculous.
She leaned forward, whispering, "What's your name?"
The stranger leaned forward too, “You first, what’s your name?”
Paige stared at the girl incredulously. "Come on. I know you didn't go home the night we met and not Google the mysterious tennis player you met at a bar."
She laughed rubbing the back of her neck. "You're right, I did. But I know I just found a basic, white-ass tennis player name, so forgive me for forgetting."
"Ouchh," Paige laughed, shaking her head. "My name's Paige. Paige Bueckers."
The girl smiled softly. "Pretty name."
"Ohh, go fuck yourself," Paige shot back, though her smile was massive.
"Also," the girl added, leaning back and crossing her arms, "I didn’t actually have to search for you. You showed up on my news feed constantly for like a week after we met, with articles and close-ups of you falling on your face."
Paige dropped her forehead onto the cool wood of the table. "I'm going to jump off a cliff."
"Hey, on the bright side," Paige heard the girl say from above her, "I'm sure all the strangers you met from that point on were guaranteed to know your name."
But what Azzi didn't say out loud was that over the past two years, Paige Bueckers hadn't just remained the girl who fell on her face. She had gone from being good at tennis to being the god of tennis. People were guaranteed to know her name because she was great.
They left the bar to walk in a nearby park, their casual banter started to give way to more serious conversations. Paige looked down at her hands, something weighing on her mind.
"I don't really like wearing skirts," Paige confessed softly.
Azzi glanced down at Paige’s legs. "Yeah, that's probably why you’re wearing pants right now."
"No," Paige clarified, her voice dropping. "I meant while playing."
"So why don't you wear like shorts or something?"
"I know. That would be so much better," Paige murmured. She stared out into the dark park for a long moment, the reality of her sport pressing down on her chest. After a second. "We both know that's not happening."
"Yeah, I know," Azzi replied softly.
"I've worked too hard to be known as anything but someone who won Wimbledon too many times to count," Paige said, her jaw tightening. "Also, if I'm being honest... wearing a skirt is easier than wearing shorts and letting it be another thing I have to stand up for. That I have to gain attention for. That I have to manage on top of everything else. But sometimes it gets to me. Like, am I that much of a pussy? Is all I want... an easy life?"
Azzi was silent for a moment. She looked at her sneakers, then slowly said, "I played basketball my entire life."
Paige rolled her eyes. "Ohh, damn. Thanks for ignoring my entire mid-life crisis. Not like I was being super vulnerable or anything."
"Bro, shut up. I’m getting to it," Azzi interrupted, nudging Paige’s shoulder with her own. "I played basketball my entire life, and in high school, I tore my ACL. I realized then what it meant to be someone other than a basketball player. What existed outside of playing ball. But I recovered well, and I played great again. I went to UConn, the best college program, and I was supposed to be great. But at UConn, at the start of my sophomore year, I got hurt again. And this time, it was too much. I was told I would never play the same again. I wouldn't even recover fully."
Paige turned her head, listening intently.
"It hurt a lot, obviously," Azzi continued, her voice steady but reflective. "But it let me try things I learned existed while I had my first injury. Things I couldn't reach out for because I was too good at basketball, things I couldn't throw my basketball future away for. But because of my second injury, that choice was easy again. I could pursue things like business and sport rehabilitation. It's the reason I was in New York the first night we met, I was meeting with investors for my startup Revite. So all that to say... easy isn't a bad thing, Paige. You’re allowed to want it sometimes. You're allowed to want things that aren't great, or what you or anyone else expects yourself to want. You’re allowed to wear a skirt if it’s easier."
Paige stared at her, feeling something shift in her chest. She swallowed the lump in her throat. "Come to my next game. I’ll leave tickets for you at call... watch me wear my skirt."
Azzi smiled. "Okay."
"Okay," Paige repeated.
————-
Azzi had a massive business meeting with an incredibly important client for her sports science venture. The investor was taking the elevator down with Azzi, when ESPN advertisements for Paige's upcoming match played on the little elevator tv screen.
“My daughter idolizes her, but I wasn’t able to secure a ticket to the game” The investor was making small talk as the elevator reached the ground floor.
Azzi didn’t go to watch the game. She gave up her courtside ticket to suck up to the investor.
And Paige didn’t wear a skirt.
The next morning, Azzi was sitting in her office when she saw the sports headlines blowing up. Photos of Paige Bueckers, fierce and dominating on the court, wearing shorts, the rumors surrounding her sexuality only getting louder, only getting more sure.
Smiling, Azzi pulled out her phone and sent a text alongside a link to the article:
Nice shorts.
A few minutes later, her phone buzzed with Paige’s reply:
Thanks…. I had a feeling you wouldn’t come and I wanted to grab your attention somehow. It was either the shorts or fall on my face again…..I chose the easier option.
One Year Later (2016)
Paige won an incredibly important, career-defining match a year later, and a massive celebratory party was thrown in her honor at a high-end lounge in Manhattan.
Standing near the VIP section, Paige scanned the guest list on her manager's tablet and noticed a sponsorship from Revite, Azzi’s company.
As the party got into full swing, Paige was mingling, holding a glass of champagne, when she bumped into a stunning woman.
"Great game," the woman said, raising her glass. "The last point was crazy."
Paige smiled warmly, leaning against the bar. "Thanks."
"I'm Zoe," the woman introduced herself, extending a hand. "I'm here representing Revite, we’re a rehabilitation technology centred company."
Paige’s eyes lit up, immediately intrigued. "I've heard about your research. Congratulations."
Zoe laughed softly, shaking her head. "Oh, yeah, thank you. Me and my co-founder. Azzi Fudd. We’ve been busting our asses the past few years."
Paige paused, her fingers tightening slightly around her champagne glass. She caught Zoe’s eye, tilting her head toward the bartender. "Can I buy you a drink?"
Zoe smiled, her eyes lingering on Paige. "Yes."
————-
A few months later, Zoe invited Paige to a private Thanksgiving dinner party. It was hosted at Azzi’s house.
When they arrived, the house was warm, filled with laughter and the smell of roasting food. Paige walked through the living room and immediately locked eyes with Azzi across the kitchen island. Both of them broke into sudden, knowing smiles.
Azzi walked over, wiping her hands on a dish towel. "Congratulations on your game last week, Paige."
"Thanks," Paige said, sliding a heavy, beautifully wrapped bottle of wine across the counter. "Brought you a party gift."
Azzi looked down at the label and burst out laughing. It was the exact luxury wine Zoe and the company had gifted Paige at the championship party months ago. "Wine. How thoughtful."
Paige smirked, crossing her arms. "Yeah. I spent hours picking it out just for you."
"You aren't funny," Azzi deadpanned, though she immediately began uncorking it. "Whatever, I don't mind. I wanted to buy a bottle for myself anyways. Your loss."
"I'm sure you'll like it," Paige said, her voice dropping into a smoother tone as she watched Azzi work. "It seems very much your taste. Unlike Zoe."
Azzi stopped, the corkscrew halfway in. She raised an eyebrow. "What do you mean?"
"I mean, you and Zoe seem very different," Paige noted, leaning her hip against the counter, watching Azzi closely. "I'm interested in how your ….. Umm partnership came to be."
Azzi poured a bit of the red wine into a glass, then gestured vaguely to the high ceilings around them. "Paige, you see this house? It’s nice, right?"
"Yeah."
"Zoe owns one right down the street," Azzi said simply, taking a sip. "She had it before we started the company."
Paige let out a soft laugh. "Let me guess... you met her in New York, too?"
Azzi looked at her, an unreadable expression in her eyes. "Right after I met you."
————-
After that Thanksgiving, Paige and Azzi didn't really talk. Life got busy. Zoe decided to sell her corporate ownership stakes in the company, prompting a farewell party at a downtown lounge. Paige dragged herself there on crutches. She suffered a devastating knee injury during a tournament a month ago.
Naturally, she and Azzi ended up together in the back of the room at the end of the night.
Azzi stood there, holding a drink, looking at Paige’s heavily braced leg. But she didn't say a single word about the injury. Paige kept waiting and waiting for the pity, the 'Are you okay?' speech, but it never came.
Finally, unable to avoid the elephant in the room, Paige snapped. "you really not gonna ask if I'm okay…that’s a little mean isn’t it princess?"
Azzi took a slow sip, looking around the crowded room. "You're in a bar in downtown New York. I didn't think you would be here if you weren't."
Paige’s voice cracked slightly. "Maybe I'm here because I'm not okay."
Azzi’s gaze snapped back to her, intensely focused. "So what are you?"
"It's hard to know," Paige whispered, looking down.
Azzi reached into her blazer pocket, pulling out a sleek, heavy matte-black business card. She slid it into Paige’s hand. "Let me make it easier then."
Paige looked down at the card. It read: Caroline Ducharme, Lead Physical Therapist REVITE.
Paige blinked, confused. "I don't even get yours?"
Azzi smirked, turning to rejoin the party. "My card is reserved for more premium clients."
————-
When Paige showed up for her first session, she immediately noticed the difference in Azzi's program. It didn't feel clinical and it was holistic. Over the next few weeks, her body began to change. The meal plans and targeted workouts completely sucked, they were brutal, but they worked really really well.
One Tuesday, Paige had to reschedule her appointment, arriving at 6:00 PM instead of her usual mid-afternoon slot.
She was working through a painful stretching routine with Caroline when the heavy glass doors of the clinic swung open. Azzi walked down the steps, her sleeves rolled up. It was the first time Paige had seen her in weeks.
A moment later, Caroline’s phone buzzed aggressively. She checked it, wincing. "I have to take this.” She yelled over her shoulder.” Azzi, can you take over for a sec?"
"Yeah, I got it," Azzi said, stepping into Caroline’s spot without missing a beat. Her hands were warm and firm as she took over on Paige's quad.
Azzi looked down at her. "How are you? Or do you still not know?"
Paige stared up at her, breathing slightly heavily from the workout or from something else. "I'm okay."
"Good," Azzi replied softly.
Caroline returned a minute later, apologizing as she took over again, allowing Azzi to step back and walk away.
Caroline looked at Paige with a knowing smile. "Um, she always comes down around this time. She usually has fewer meetings and stuff. She gives everyone coffee and helps out around the floor."
As the appointment wrapped up, Caroline grabbed her iPad. "The usual at 3:00 PM on Tuesday next week?"
Paige quickly sat up, wiping her sweat with a towel. "No. I won't be able to make it. Can you move it to 5:30?"
She wanted to see Azzi again. It wasn't even a question.
The next Tuesday at 6:00 PM, right on cue in the middle of Paige’s appointment, the glass doors opened again. Azzi walked down holding two iced coffees. She handed one to Caroline.
Caroline took a grateful sip. "Az, can you take over for a second so I can actually drink this?"
"Yeah, sure," Azzi said, setting her own coffee down and stepping up to the physio bed. She began massaging the tight muscles around Paige's scarred knee.
"Hey, tennis girl," Azzi murmured.
"Hey, doctor," Paige replied, a smirk playing on her lips.
"Paige, you know I'm not actually a doctor, right?"
Paige feigned a shocked expression. "Wait. Should I be trusting you to massage me? And wait, if you’re not a doctor, is Caroline even a doctor?"
"I'm not a doctor," Azzi clarified, applying a bit more pressure to a knot, making Paige wince. "But I can tell you that you don't just need physical rehab. You need to be in like a mental institute."
"Bro, this is a valid concern!" Paige protested, laughing as she tried to squirm away from Azzi's strong grip. "You can’t make me feel crazy for this! Okay, my body is like a precious temple. I can't just let anybody, especially people that aren't doctors, treat me. What if you like tweak something?"
Azzi stopped, leaning over the bed, looking flatly into Paige’s eyes. "First of all, I don't need to be a doctor to massage your leg for like two seconds. And physiotherapists aren't medical doctors anyway, dipshit. And second of all... precious temple my ass. Caroline’s always complaining about how you bring chips and candy to all your appointments and how you always leave crumbs all over the physio bed."
Paige’s eyes widened, a sudden patter playing in her chest. "You guys talk about me, huh?"
Azzi went still. She looked at Paige then, a curious look entering her eyes.
Paige met the look head-on, holding her gaze, refusing to back down.
Caroline walked back over, completely oblivious. "Thanks, Az, I'm done. And thank you again, the coffee was so bus."
“No problem Car”
Azzi stepped back, grabbing her drink. "Bye, tennis girl."
"Bye, fraudulent doctor," Paige called out.
Azzi paused, turning back with a smirk. "You know what? If our services aren't up to your standard, you can leave at any moment. We have a lot of other, more appreciative potential clients on our waitlist that would love to take your spot. And you know what? Caroline can recommend you some other clinics in New York."
Before Azzi could step away, Paige reached out from the bed, her fingers wrapping firmly around Azzi’s wrist. "Chill," Paige said softly, her voice dropping into something deeply sincere. "I'm just kidding... and actually, I wanted to say thank you. The rehab's really working. It feels like this program was really made with an athlete in mind. Like, actually."
Azzi looked down at Paige’s hand on her wrist, her expression softening into something more tender and shy. "I guess you can stay then..."
————-
On another late afternoon, Paige’s appointment was wrapping up. She saw Azzi come down the stairs, but instead of walking toward them, Azzi looked stressed, checking her phone as she walked straight out of the building.
Paige finished her session soon after. Snatching her gym bag, she rushed outside into the slightly cold afternoon air, catching up to her in the concrete parking lot. "Heyy! Where you going? You didn't stop by this time."
Azzi turned around, looking tired but offering a small smile. "Oh, sorry. I just came out of like a four-hour meeting and I haven't eaten anything today. I'm just gonna grab some food."
"Can I come with?" Paige asked immediately, throwing her bag over her shoulder. "There's a fire taco stop like a two-minute walk from here. I always go there after my appointments."
They started walking, Paige leading the way. To Azzi's growing concern, Paige took a sharp turn into a very suspicious, narrow alleyway, one Azzi had never walked through in all the years her clinic had been on the block.
Trying to break the sudden quiet, Azzi adjusted her jacket. "How's Zo doing?"
Paige blinked. "Huh?"
"Zoe... your girlfriend."
"Ohh, yeah. She's good... I think," Paige said, navigating a puddle on the pavement. "Well, I hope she hasn't gotten eaten by like an alligator."
Azzi snorted. "You aren't funny."
"No, I'm serious!" Paige insisted, gesturing with her hands. "She's like... on this fucking wellness retreat or something in Costa Rica. She can't use her phone there. I don't know how the fuck that's wellness, I would actually kill myself if I didn't have my iPad. But anyways, I haven't talked to her in like two weeks. Actually, like maybe a month."
Azzi laughed loudly, her voice echoing in the restaurant. "Dude, she's not gonna get eaten by an alligator on a wellness retreat. All they do is yoga and meditation and shit."
"Hey, you never know," Paige argued. "They do some pretty weird stuff on these retreats. I searched it up after she told me she was going. Like, what if they're like spiritually baptizing her in like a river, and then all of a sudden... alligator?"
Azzi was midway into chewing her taco but at Paige’s statement she couldn’t control her laugh, she choked violently.
"You're so stupid," Azzi coughed, wiping her mouth. "And stop talking about the alligator, you're actually going to jinx her."
Paige couldn't help herself. Desperate for a better opportunity to nonchalantly probe into Azzi's life, she asked, "What about you? You have anyone in danger of getting eaten by alligators?"
Azzi rolled her eyes, biting into her last taco. "Yeah... you. I'm gonna throw your annoying ass in a lake. You're lucky our office isn't in like Florida."
Paige smiled into her food, but a small part of her fell quiet. She wasn't just asking a joke; she was trying to ask if Azzi had someone the way she had Zoe. But Azzi either didn't get the hint, or maybe she just didn't want to answer. Although she seemed simple and straightforward on the surface, sometimes Paige would catch Azzi being far more perceptive than she had originally given her credit for.
————-————-
They were closer now, like real, undeniable friends. But the true turning point in their relationship happened after one of Paige's appointments.
Paige was sitting a couch, she had finished up with Caroline a while ago but was working on some stuff on her own while she was on a call with Zoe. "Hey, read the tweet. My manager said it was good, but tell me what you think."
"Okay, let me hang up and I'll read it," Paige's voice replied before the line went dead.
The tweet in question was Zoe’s public statement announcing her taking on the massive role of Chief Branding Officer for the professional football team her billionaire father owned. It sounded fine, well, as fine as a nepo-baby corporate statement could sound.
After hanging up, Paige mindlessly scrolled on her own Twitter FYP. It had been months since she had been online; her manager had strictly forbidden her from looking at social media after her knee surgery.
Her feed started normal, there were sport updates, ESPN trade announcements.
And then, she saw the tweets about herself.
'Fuck, she was supposed to be the GOAT. Can't believe she got injured. Now she's going to be washed.'
‘Can’t believe I won't be making any more money on her in Parlay. Shit, actually, maybe I can just bet against her.'
The words blurred on the screen. A hot, suffocating wave of emotion hit Paige’s chest.
"Fuck, this is so stupid," Paige whispered, her voice cracking as a tear spilled over her eyelashes. She sniffled, wiping her face quickly.
Suddenly, a hand reached into her space and firmly pulled the phone out of her grip.
Azzi stood there, staring down at the screen with an aggressive scowl. "Eat-my-balls-93 doesn't know shit about you," said Azzi, her voice dripping with irritation. "I don't know why the fuck you’re crying, stupid." She tossed the phone onto the couch, then turned to face Paige completely. "And actually, I take offense to this. Do you not believe in my rehab program or something?"
Paige let out a watery, breathless laugh.
Azzi’s expression softened instantly. She stepped forward, her voice dropping into a rare certainty. "You’ll be okay, Paige." She paused, reaching out and pulling Paige into a grounding hug. "Even better than okay. You’ll be greater than you ever were."
Paige buried her face into Azzi’s shoulder, her fingers gripping the back of Azzi’s shirt. She let out a sniffle. "You promise?"
"I promise," Azzi murmured, her chin resting on Paige’s head, her grip tightening. "I promise that nobody will know you other than the woman who won Wimbledon too many times to count."
Azzi held her for a long minute. When she finally let go, before Paige could even ask her to stay, Azzi took a seat on the couch right next to her.
Paige wiped her eyes, looking down at her lap. "Thank you."
"Mhm," Azzi hummed softly.
"I don't know why I'm so pressed," Paige admitted, a sudden wave of old memories washing over her. "I didn't even want to play tennis like eight years ago."
Azzi tilted her head expectantly, raising an eyebrow, asking her to continue.
"When I was little," Paige explained, her voice soft, "my family needed money. So I worked at the local tennis club, just hitting balls for the rich tennis kids during their private lessons. I got really good at it just by doing that. One day, this rich dude spotted me and offered to sponsor my entire development. I didn't even like tennis. But my dad... he sat me down and told me, 'It's a sport. Whether you’re there with a basketball or a tennis racket, you get to play something, and you get to be paid for it.' Basketball was just too expensive back then. AAU teams, travel, training... it was all too much for us. So, I chose tennis."
Paige looked up, her blue eyes locking onto Azzi’s. "Maybe in another life... if I had met you earlier... I think I would’ve felt braver about playing basketball. And maybe I could have made it less heavy for you. And maybe we’d be playing together."
Azzi went completely still. Looking at Paige she was certain of something she had been noticing recently: Paige Bueckers was far too poetic for her own good, and certainly too poetic for a tennis star.
But then, Azzi thought perhaps that poetry was the cause of Paige’s brilliance.
For poetry is an understanding of pain.
And pain is the ultimate prerequisite to greatness.
Azzi looked at her, her dark eyes saying somehting that Paige couldn't quite decipher, but regardless, Paige was certain she was looking back at Azzi with the exact same expression.
It was awareness—they were looking at each other with the awareness of being completely seen, fully seeing the other as the girl who had been forced to stop playing basketball, too.
Azzi snapped out of it, a forced smirk breaking through her face. "Yeah, okay, Shakespeare. Like my D1 self would be playing with your D3-level, scrawny ass."
Paige gasped, she shoved Azzi’s arm. "Bro! I'm not scrawny! I'll let you know I'm a high-level athlete with a substantial amount of muscle!"
"Paige," Azzi deadpanned, with a completely serious face. "My bicep is like two times bigger than yours. And I'm not even an athlete anymore."
"Bro," Paige groaned, staring at her arm in sheer frustration. "It's not my fault you’re ripped for no goddamn reason."
————-
And just like that... it was over. Paige finished her nine-month rehab.
Driving to the clinic that afternoon, Paige felt an odd sensation in her chest. Her knee felt perfect. She could feel the stability in how normal it felt to press down on the car's brake.
The last appointment went by like routine. Caroline massaged the scar tissue, ran the final tests, and checked her mobility metrics. Everything looked good.
As they started wrapping up the session, Paige looked toward the stairs. Azzi still hadn't come down.
Paige cleared her throat, trying to sound casual. "So, where's the boss?"
Caroline looked up from her papers. "The boss is in Connecticut."
Paige’s face fell. "What's she doing in butt-fuck Connecticut of all places?" She was pissed. There was no way Azzi had missed her absolute last appointment for freaking cow land.
"She's at UConn," Caroline explained with a bright smile. "They’re buying our equipment and the rights to use our specialized training program. It's a massive deal."
Paige froze. Despite how incredibly disappointed she was that Azzi had missed her final day, she couldn't stop the massive smile from breaking across her face. An overwhelming sense of pride washed over her. She knew Azzi had played at Connecticut; the fact that she was back there, bringing her own work to help future generations of athletes was incredible. She knew how much it meant to Azzi, and she’d been learning through conversations just how much Azzi really had to work to get here.
Caroline peered closer at Paige’s face. "Are you crying???"
"Shut up! It's a big deal, okay!" Paige yelled, wiping a stray tear before laughing.
————-
Paige didn’t call or text Azzi that night. She wanted to congratulate her in person, so after confirming with Caroline that Azzi would be back in her office the following morning, she set her plan.
On her way home, she stopped by a florist, picking up a massive bouquet of pink flowers.And in the next door bakery she found a cupcake decorated perfectly in UConn's theme colors.
That evening, after dinner, Paige was dozing off on her couch to an episode of Criminal Minds. She was deep in a dream about being back home at the Minnesota State Fair, holding a fresh corn dog, when a distant, rhythmic sound started knocking her out of her sleep.
Paige groaned, contemplating staying put. It had been a long day, her couch was unfairly comfortable, and she hadn't even gotten to take a bite of her dream corn dog yet.
"Paige!"
A voice echoed from the hallway. Azzi’s voice.
Shit, was she really dreaming about her now? Paige wasn't entirely surprised; things had been different recently. She had been thinking about Azzi constantly. She thought about her while eating takeout from their alleyway taco spot. She thought about her when she demanded the florist make the celebration bouquet entirely pink. She had even thought about her last month during a high-fashion perfume photoshoot, one of the vanilla-floral scents smelled exactly like Azzi, and Paige had sheepishly asked the camera crew if she could take the bottle home.
She had broken up with Zoe the next day.
Since then, they texted daily, and Paige would call the moment she had even the slightest nonchalant excuse.
"Paige, open the goddamn door!"
“Huh” Paige smiled to herself, dream Azzi was so realistic she had the same unfiltered irritation in her voice as real Azzi. But why would she be asking Paige to open the door out of all things….unless…Paige snapped her eyes open. Not a dream. She bolted off the couch and ran to the front door, throwing it open. "Azzi!"
Azzi stood in the hallway, holding a bag of takeout, looking exhausted but beautiful. "Finally. What took you so long to open the door?"
"I was sleeping, sorry..." Paige breathed, her heart hammering against her ribs. "But what—what are you doing here?"
"It was your last appointment today, dumbo," Azzi said, stepping past her into the warm apartment. "Since I couldn't make it to the clinic, I planned to just surprise you at home so we could celebrate. Can't believe you already fell asleep, it's only like 10:30. And I haven't even eaten dinner yet, so I brought us Noodles & Company. But knowing your fat ass, you probably already—"
Azzi was cut off mid-sentence as Paige stepped forward and wrapped her arms tightly around her neck, burying her face into Azzi’s collarbone.
"Thank you," Paige whispered fiercely, her voice thick with emotion. "Thank you for thinking of me. Thank you for the past nine months... thank you for fixing me."
Azzi stood frozen for a second, then slowly dropped the takeout bag onto the entry table, her arms coming up to wrap firmly around Paige’s waist. "You were never broken, Paige," Azzi whispered into her hair, a soft smile in her voice. "Except maybe in the head."
Paige let out a tearful laugh, pulling back just enough to look at her. "Whatever, dude... come in."
Azzi walked into the kitchen. As she dropped the food container onto the kitchen island, her eyes landed on the massive pink bouquet sitting prominently on the counter.
Azzi paused, coughing slightly. "Pretty flowers... who—did someone get them for you?"
Paige smirked, her heart racing. Finally, she thought. Something to work with.
"Nah," Paige said, stepping into Azzi’s space, looking her dead in the eye. "I got them for someone. Someone really special."
Azzi’s face dropped slightly, a sudden wave of vulnerability crossing her features. Looking at her, Paige was mentally jumping and doing cartwheels. She had been confident that Azzi felt the same way she did, but seeing this exact reaction solidified everything.
"I thought you and Zoe broke up," Azzi murmured, looking down at the floor.
"We did," Paige said softly, taking another step closer. "They aren’t for her."
Azzi’s breath hitched slightly. "So... who are they for?"
"Why are you so curious?" Paige asked, her voice dropping into a low, teasing register, her body closing the remaining distance.
"I'm not," Azzi lied quickly, her eyes darting away. "I'm just trying to make conversation."
"Conversation my ass," Paige murmured, her eyes locked on Azzi’s lips. "You’re still staring at them."
"Well, I don't understand why you won't just tell me."
"I will if you ask," Paige whispered.
Azzi opened her mouth, about to protest that that was exactly what she had been doing for the last two minutes.
"I will if you ask nicely," Paige interrupted, her voice smooth and deliberate. She took one final step, completely backing Azzi up until her shoulders met the kitchen wall. Paige lowered her head slightly, her gaze heavy and intense. "If you say please... like a good girl."
Azzi, who had been stubbornly looking away, suddenly snapped her head back around, her dark eyes meeting Paige’s with an electric, burning intensity.
A beat passed. Then, Azzi let out a sharp scoff. "You wish. I'm not that desperate."
With a smirk, Azzi raised her hands and firmly pushed Paige back by her shoulders, attempting to walk past her toward the living room. But Paige was faster. She reached out, her fingers wrapping tightly around Azzi’s wrist, pulling her back into her.
"They're for you, Az," Paige said, all the teasing completely gone, replaced by a raw sincerity.
Azzi stopped moving, her eyes widening.
"Caroline told me about UConn," Paige whispered, a fresh tear slipping down her cheek. "I’m so damn proud of you. I literally cried while she was telling me."
Azzi stared at her for a fraction of a second, the walls completely crumbling down. This time, she didn't hesitate. She threw her arms around Paige’s neck, pulling her in so tightly there was no space left between them.
"Loser," Azzi whispered into Paige’s ear, her own voice thick with emotion. "Can't believe you cried"
notes:
thank you for giving my story a chance! Let me know if you want a part two! No I did not use AI, yes I did use a basic grammar checker! Cheers!
can you do a fluffy fic of whenever Paige turned 18 and she makes fun of azzi for being such a baby cause shes still 16 (only for another month), squeezing her cheeks, and azzis just blushing the whole time
All the ways you call me "baby"
Words: 4k
Tags: Slice of life, Fluff, Friends to lovers, Angst, Parenting
Summary: A soft, slice-of-life collection of moments between Paige and Azzi about all the meanings behind one word, and how “baby” has followed them through every stage of their story, until it finally belongs to someone else, too.
November, 2017
The cafeteria was loud in that way gyms always were.
There were sneakers squeaking somewhere down the hall as Azzi sat cross-legged on the ground with her back against the wall, plastic salad bowl balanced in one hand, fork dangling from the other. Paige was next to her, slouched like she’d never learned what posture was, a McDonald’s bag spread open between her sneakers like an offering.
The smell of fries hung between them, almost offensive.
Azzi stabbed another forkful of lettuce and shook her head. “I still can’t believe you’re eating that right now,” she muttered, watching Paige dunk a nugget in barbecue sauce. “We have practice after this, Paige. You’re going to die.”
Paige didn’t even look up. “I’d rather die happy bro,” she said around a mouthful of nugget, voice muffled but smug.
“That’s not happy, that’s greasy.” Azzi sighed and popped a tomato into her mouth, chewing with exaggerated calm just to annoy her. “You’re clogging your arteries in real time. Do you ever think about the future?”
Paige glanced at her finally, blue eyes sharp but amused, like Azzi was some harmless kind of ridiculous. “Do you ever think about enjoying life?” she shot back, waving a fry like a tiny sword. “You’re out here eating grass like a rabbit, Azzi”
Azzi rolled her eyes, even though her cheeks burned a little.
She didn’t know why Paige always made her feel like that. “This is literally a basic salad,” she said flatly, stabbing another piece of cucumber. “You should try it sometime.”
Paige leaned in, conspiratorial, lowering her voice like she was about to share classified information. “You know what I think? I think one day, when you’re old, you’re gonna regret every salad you’ve ever eaten.”
Azzi arched one brow at her, trying to look unimpressed even though Paige’s proximity made it harder than it should’ve been. “Old,” she echoed. “Paige, you’re sixteen.”
“Exactly.” Paige grinned like that explained everything, like age gave her seniority in life wisdom. “But you? You’re fifteen, a literal baby.”
Azzi scowled, fork pausing midair. “I’m not a baby.”
“You are, though.” Paige nudged her shoulder gently, just enough to make Azzi’s salad bowl wobble. “Look at you. Eating your greens. Baby behavior.”
Azzi set the fork down and stared at her, “Whatever, good luck dying young P.”
Paige didn’t break eye contact either, but her mouth curved into this slow, dangerous smile that Azzi was starting to learn meant trouble.
Then Paige tipped her head slightly, “Baby, I’m gonna live forever.”
The word hit harder than it should’ve.
Baby. It was stupid, completely unserious, just another one of Paige’s throwaway jokes , but Azzi felt it land.
She kept her face neutral, because that was what she did best, but her ears betrayed her, heating instantly. “Don’t call me that,” she said, quieter than intended.
Paige smirked, clearly hearing the shift in tone, clearly noticing the flush Azzi tried to hide.
“Why not?” she teased softly, leaning back on her hands like this was the easiest thing in the world.
“Because I said so,” Azzi muttered, picking up her fork again just for something to do with her hands.
Paige hummed like she was considering it, but her eyes never left her, and then, with the kind of reckless ease Paige seemed born with, she reached out and poked Azzi’s knee. “You’re still a baby,” she said, grinning wider when Azzi swatted her hand away.
“Paige, you can be so annoying, don’t call me that.”
“Fine” Paige grinned, unbothered, tossing another fry into her mouth. “Whatever you want, baby.”
Azzi hated that she didn’t have a comeback, hated that her throat felt warm and tight and stupid.
Hated most of all that she didn’t actually hate being called that.
October, 2019
Minnesota felt louder than Azzi expected.
She wasn’t sure if it was Paige’s friends, the music, or just Paige herself, always somehow occupying more space than anyone else in the room. Azzi stood half in the doorway, pressed into the corner where the wall met the bookshelf, clutching the condensation-wet bottle of water Paige had shoved into her hand earlier.
The house smelled like vanilla candles and something sweet baking in the oven, probably one of Paige’s mom’s cakes.
It was Paige’s 18th birthday party and everyone else seemed to know each other, but Azzi didn’t.
Paige was across the room when Azzi first noticed her, laughing at something one of her teammates said. Paige was magnetic in that way she didn’t even try to be, all long limbs and wild energy, slipping easily between conversations like she belonged everywhere.
Azzi…didn’t, she wasn’t built for rooms like this.
Paige knew that, that’s why, a few minutes later, Paige broke away from her group and walked straight toward her, grin wide, expression softening the second their eyes met. Without even asking, Paige hooked an arm through hers, tugging Azzi close until their shoulders brushed.
“There you are,” Paige said, warm and casual like she hadn’t just abandoned a circle of ten people mid-laugh. “Thought you disappeared on me.”
Azzi managed a small smile, tugging at the hem of her sweater. “I’m here.”
“Yeah,” Paige said, leaning closer, lowering her voice so it didn’t carry. “You look like you’re plotting your escape.”
“I’m not,” Azzi lied.
Paige studied her for a beat longer than necessary, then gave her arm a little squeeze before turning them both toward the kitchen.
Wherever Paige went, Azzi went — like Paige decided she belonged and that was that.
Later, when the cake had been cut and the noise of the party blurred into background, they found themselves sitting on the floor behind the couch out of sight but not really hidden. Paige’s knees were drawn up, elbows draped casually over them, while Azzi sat cross-legged, fiddling with the cap of her bottle.
“You’re quiet,” Paige said softly, not looking at her, eyes fixed on the flickering candle centerpiece on the coffee table.
“I’m always quiet,” Azzi reminded her, voice low, because they both knew it was true.
Paige hummed, finally glancing at her with a grin that was smaller than usual. “Yeah, but you’re quieter than usual.”
Azzi shrugged, trying to seem unbothered. “I don’t really know your friends.”
“They’re just my teammates,” Paige said easily, brushing it off. “They’re loud, yeah, but you don’t have to know them. You just have to know me.”
Before she could think of a response, Paige caught her staring and smirked. “What?”
“Nothing,” Azzi said quickly, looking away, pretending to be fascinated by the pattern on the rug.
The room pulsed faintly with bass from the other side of the house. Paige leaned back on her palms, stretching her legs out, sneakers nudging Azzi’s knee until she looked up.
Paige’s grin widened, “You’re sixteen,” the blonde said suddenly, like she’d just remembered, like it was hilarious.
Azzi frowned. “And?”
Paige shook her head, pretending to be scandalized. “I can’t believe I’m dating a sixteen-year-old. Feels illegal.”
Azzi choked on a laugh, shoving at her shoulder. “Shut up, we’re, like, one year apart.”
“That’s still one year older,” Paige pointed out, like she’d won something.
“You’re so annoying.”
“You’re so young.” Paige’s voice was deliberately dramatic now, hand pressed to her chest like she was in mourning. “Look at you, a baby.”
“Paige.”
“What?” Paige tilted her head, unapologetic. “It’s a compliment.”
“It 's not.”
“Sure it is,” Paige said, and before Azzi could react, Paige reached out and caught her chin gently, tilting her face up into the warm light spilling from the kitchen. “Look at you,” she murmured, quieter now, like the joke had dissolved into something softer without her meaning to. “My baby.”
Azzi’s breath caught, heat crawling up her neck. “Stop,” she whispered, eyes darting toward the rest of the party where Paige’s friends were probably watching, though when she checked, nobody was looking at them.
“Why?” Paige’s grin was small now, private.
Azzi shook her head, because she didn’t have an answer that didn’t sound like a confession. “Just… stop.”
And for a second, Paige went quiet and that was always dangerous.
Then, without warning, Paige leaned in and cupped Azzi’s cheeks in both hands, squishing them gently until her lips puckered. “You’re so dramatic,” Paige said, grinning like she’d just won something, and before Azzi could protest, Paige leaned forward and pressed the quickest kiss against her lips — barely there — but enough to send Azzi’s brain spiraling.
Azzi froze, blinking, cheeks flaming instantly, gaze darting around to see if anyone had noticed.
“I’m never gonna stop calling you baby,” Paige said, matter-of-fact, letting go of her face. “Sorry, Azzi.” She shrugged, completely unbothered. “Guess you’re just gonna have to deal with me being annoying.”
Azzi blushed and punched her in the arm.
March, 2020
Paige was terrible at staying still.
Even when the whole world shut down her body still buzzed like she’d just stepped off the court in overtime. Her dad kept telling her to take the break, “learn to relax,” like that was a thing Paige Bueckers knew how to do.
She couldn’t, but she’d found her favorite distraction: Azzi.
Azzi Fudd, sprawled out across the carpet, drowning in one of Paige’s oversized gray hoodies, legs folded underneath her, a messy bun at the top of her head, bare thighs peeking out beneath soft black shorts, the sunlight from the half-open blinds painting her in stripes of gold.
She looked ridiculous, Paige thought, it was ridiculous for someone to be so impossibly pretty.
She noticed the way Azzi’s lashes caught the light when she looked down at the cards in her hands and the subtle crease between her brows when she concentrated.
Paige was supposed to be focusing on the game, instead, she was cataloging all the reasons Azzi Fudd made her heart stutter.
But, don’t get it twisted, Paige was also winning.
God, she was winning so badly it was almost embarrassing.
“Damn, baby,” Paige said, slapping her card onto the carpet with a flourish. “That’s… tragic.”
Azzi blinked at the card, unimpressed. “It’s one round.”
“It’s the eighth round,” Paige corrected, she smirked, leaning back on one hand as she flicked her ponytail over her shoulder. “Eight straight bro, that’s not just bad luck, that’s skill issues. You’re getting cooked.”
Azzi sighed through her nose, refusing to look at her.
Paige threw her hands up innocently. “I’m just saying, but if this keeps up…” She leaned in, dropping her voice dramatically, “…I’m getting the ick.”
Azzi froze, hoodie sleeve halfway to her face. “The what?”
“The ick,” Paige repeated, savoring the words. “You know, when you suddenly get less into someone ‘cause they’re…” She gestured vaguely at Azzi’s defeated pile of cards. “…tragically untalented.”
Azzi narrowed her eyes, slow and dangerous. “…You’re unbelievable.”
“I know,” Paige said brightly, like it was a compliment. She threw another card down with unnecessary flair. “It’s honestly shocking how lucky you are to date me.”
Azzi didn’t even hesitate, she hurled a throw pillow straight at her head.
Paige caught it midair, laughing, and whipped it right back. “Oh, now you’re playing defense! Where was that three rounds ago?”
And just like that, the game dissolved into chaos.
Cards scattered across the carpet, pillows flew, Paige ducked behind the bed and tackled Azzi in a flurry of laughter.
Azzi’s laugh, God, spilling out of her like she wasn’t used to giving herself away like that. Paige would’ve recorded it if it wouldn’t ruin the moment.
Finally, breathless and flushed, Paige scrambled back to her spot and slapped her final card down with the kind of smugness only a lifelong competitor could pull off.
She leaned back on her palms, grinning wide, eyes locked on Azzi’s face. “Your turn Fudd.”
Azzi just sat there, cross-legged in Paige’s hoodie, one knee drawn up, fingers picking at the hem of her shorts, her lips pursed slightly in defeat. She blinked down at the card like she couldn’t believe she’d lost again, and then she whined — soft and frustrated — “Babyyyy.”
Paige froze.
She blinked at Azzi, her heart thudding hard against her ribs, because no, Azzi didn’t say “Baby”. Not casually, not like Paige did every time the thought crossed her mind.
Azzi glanced up, noticed the way Paige was staring, and frowned. “…What?”
Paige just stared for a beat longer, before a slow, ridiculous grin spread across her face. “You just called me baby.”
Azzi’s brows furrowed, confused. “Yeah? So?”
“So?” Paige’s voice cracked like she was thirteen again, she leaned forward, grin so wide her cheeks ached. “You called me baby, cause you wanted to”
Azzi rolled her eyes, looking away, her ears going pink anyway. “You call me that every five seconds.”
“Yeah,” Paige said, quiet now, almost serious, “but you don’t call me that.” She leaned a little closer, eyes soft. “Not usually.”
Azzi hesitated, shifting under the weight of Paige’s gaze. “…Do you mind if I do?”
Paige didn’t even hesitate, she shoved the scattered deck of cards aside, crawled forward on her knees until they were face-to-face, and cupped Azzi’s cheeks in both hands.
Her thumbs brushed the warm skin beneath her jaw, and Azzi’s lashes fluttered like she didn’t know where to look.
“Mind?” Paige whispered, leaning in until their foreheads touched. “Call me that every single day.”
And then she kissed her like the only thing she wanted — the only thing she ever wanted — was Azzi Fudd sitting cross-legged in front of her, wearing her hoodie, calling her baby.
January, 2031
Paige didn’t even look at her, she couldn’t, not because she didn’t want to, but because right now, she was angry and the thing about Paige is that she didn’t know how to be angry at Azzi without breaking herself in half.
Azzi had six points. Six damn points and all of them came in the fourth quarter when the game was already slipping away.
The Lynx were now down 0–2 in the Finals, one loss away from letting it all fall apart, and Paige had spent the whole night clawing at her lungs on defense, hitting shots, dragging them through every possession she could and Azzi… Azzi had looked lost.
Paige hated even thinking about it, it felt like treason inside her own chest.
By the time they got home, the tension had hardened into something sharp. Paige barely said a word as she dropped her bag by the door.
She showered first, letting the scalding water hit her skin, hoping it would wash the frustration away. It didn’t.
When she came out, towel around her shoulders, Azzi was sitting on the edge of their bed, legs crossed, still in her shirt and shorts, hair tied up messily, scrolling through her phone. Paige’s shirt, of course, Azzi always stole them after games, like clockwork.
Normally Paige would’ve smiled at the sight, normally, she would’ve crawled into her lap and kissed her stupid until her dimples showed up.
But tonight, all Paige felt was annoyance.
Azzi looked up when she heard her footsteps. “You okay?” Her voice was soft, hesitant.
Paige hesitated. “Just… stressed.”
Azzi blinked, searching her face. “Paige.”
Paige turned away, busying herself by folding her towel even though it didn’t need folding. “I said I’m fine.”
Azzi frowned but didn’t push — at first. She let the silence drag on for a few beats before speaking again, softer this time. “Did I… do something?”
That made Paige’s chest tighten, she hated this.
Paige ran a hand through her damp hair. “No, you didn’t… It’s not—” She stopped, exhaled hard. “It’s just the game.”
Azzi tilted her head. “What about it?”
And that’s when Paige cracked.
She didn’t mean to, she didn’t mean for the words to come out the way they did, sharper than they should’ve been. “I just… I feel like you weren’t there tonight.”
Azzi blinked, sitting up straighter. “…What?”
Paige sat on the edge of the dresser, elbows on her knees, staring at the floor. “You were… fumbling bro, missing reads, shots weren’t falling, fine, that happens, but it was like you weren’t locked in until the fourth, and that’s not how we’re winning a ring.”
Azzi stared at her, confusion giving way to defensiveness. “You think I wasn’t trying?”
“That’s not what I said.”
“That’s exactly what you’re saying,” Azzi countered, voice rising slightly.
Paige dragged a hand down her face, frustration bubbling higher. “I’m saying it looked like you weren’t locked in, that’s how it felt out there.”
Azzi shook her head, eyes narrowing just a little. “You weren’t perfect either, Paige. You didn’t exactly set the court on fire until the third quarter.”
That hit harder than it should’ve. Paige looked up sharply. “Yeah, but at least I was playing defense the whole damn game. You know what? Whatever, I just don’t really wanna look at my team’s shooting guard right now”
Azzi blinked at her, shoulders stiffening, lips parting slightly like she couldn’t believe Paige had just said that.
“Wow,” Azzi finally said, voice flat.
“I didn’t—”
“No, it’s fine,” she cut in, standing abruptly. “I get it, you don’t want to look at me right now.”
And then she walked out.
Paige stayed frozen on the dresser, hands digging into her knees, her stomach twisting like someone had just reached inside and twisted it.
She hated herself instantly.
Because it wasn’t fair, it wasn’t fair to put this on Azzi when Paige knew damn well what this was really about. She wasn’t mad at her girlfriend, she was mad at the game.
Fuck, mad at herself, mad at losing, mad at everything that came with being this competitive, this driven, this desperate to win.
And she’d just taken it out on the one person she loved most.
She found Azzi in the kitchen twenty minutes later, leaning against the counter, spooning yogurt into a bowl like it was the most aggressive act in the world.
Paige approached quietly, barefoot on the hardwood, hands shoved into her sweatshirt pockets. She hesitated in the doorway, then finally walked up behind her and slid her arms around her waist, resting her chin on Azzi’s shoulder.
Azzi stiffened instantly. “Not now,” she said, curt and clipped.
Paige pressed a soft kiss to the side of her neck anyway, whispering, “I’m sorry.”
“Paige”
“I am,” she insisted, voice quiet but certain. “I shouldn’t have said any of that. I shouldn’t have made you feel like that. I don’t… I don’t get to treat you like you’re just my teammate, that’s not fair.”
Azzi set the spoon down, finally turning in Paige’s arms so they were face-to-face. Her expression was unreadable, but her big brown eyes were steady on hers.
“You said you didn’t want to look at me,” she murmured, and there was no anger in it now, just quiet hurt.
Paige’s chest squeezed so tight it almost hurt, she cupped Azzi’s face in both hands, thumbs brushing softly across her cheeks. “I didn’t mean it,” she whispered, almost pleading. “I meant the game version of you, the player version. Not you-you, never you.”
For a beat, Azzi just stared at her. And then, softly, almost reluctantly, she whispered:
“Baby, that really hurt.”
Paige’s breath caught instantly. Azzi didn’t use pet names often, and when she did, it felt like Paige’s heart was being pulled straight out of her chest.
Paige leaned in, forehead pressing against Azzi’s, closing her eyes like she was grounding herself there. “I’m so sorry,” she murmured. “I hate that I hurt you. I love you so much, I fucked it up.”
Azzi sighed, finally letting herself melt into Paige’s arms, her hands sliding up to rest on her shoulders. “I forgive you,” she said softly. “But we can’t… we can’t do this, Paige. We can’t drag the game into us.”
Paige nodded against her, whispering, “We won’t. I promise.”
And they didn’t, after that night, no matter what happened on the court — good game, bad game, career-high, career-low — they never let it bleed into them again.
Some things were more important than basketball to Paige, and Azzi was one of them.
April, 2038
By thirty six, Paige thought she’d have life figured out
The road trip was supposed to be simple and easy. One weekend away with Azzi and their daughter before Paige had to dive back into the grind of the WNBA season.
It was supposed to be about slowing down, breathing a little, and to Paige, most importantly, being the “cool mom.”
Somewhere between Target and the gas station, though, Paige realized her definition of “cool mom” and Azzi’s definition of “responsible adult” were very different things.
“Paige.”
Paige didn’t even look up from where she was shoving snacks into a tote bag. “Hm?”
Azzi’s voice came from behind her, low and already carrying that edge Paige knew too well. “What is this?”
Paige turned, holding a bag of neon-green sour gummy worms in one hand and two tubes of Pringles in the other. “Snacks?”
Azzi raised an eyebrow, holding up the grocery bag Paige had packed earlier like it was evidence in court. “Snacks,” she repeated slowly.
“Snacks, Paige, or a sugar induced hospital visit? Because I’m counting six bags of Skittles, four kinds of Doritos, and… oh my God, why twelve Pop-Tarts?”
Paige shrugged. “Kids love Pop-Tarts.”
Azzi stared at her. “We have one kid, Paige.”
“Yeah, well, Maya loves Pop-Tarts.”
“This,” Azzi said, holding the box up like a prosecutor presenting her closing argument, “is enough junk food to sustain a small college dorm.”
Paige rolled her eyes, dropping the Pringles into the bag with a thud. “Okay, but listen, Azzi I barely get to see Maya during the season. I want to have fun with her, let her have some fun. Is that a crime?”
Azzi folded her arms, hoodie sleeves pushed to her elbows, looking entirely unimpressed. “Buying our six-year-old three pounds of sugar is not my definition of mother-daughter fun time.”
Paige grinned wider, crossing the kitchen and deliberately lowering her voice like she was letting Azzi in on a secret. “Okay, fine. You have a point.” She leaned closer, almost conspiratorial. “But keep the attitude, though. I like when you’re bossy. Very… UConn's Assistant Coach energy.”
Azzi exhaled slowly, pretending she wasn’t flustered, and shoved a box of Cheez-Its into Paige’s chest. “Go get the rest of the groceries before I bench you.”
Paige saluted her mock-seriously and headed outside, her sneakers crunching on the driveway.
And then she froze, because right there, peeking out of one of the grocery bags, was the bottle: Cherry-flavored vodka.
“Oh, my God.”
Paige grabbed it instantly, staring at the bright red label in disbelief. She hadn’t even realized she’d tossed it into the cart earlier, half distracted and half on autopilot, and now the absurdity of it hit her like a truck. A family road trip, with a six-year-old, and she’d bought vodka.
Okay, okay, calm down, she told herself, shoving it deep into the bag before Azzi spotted it. You’ll just… hide it somewhere. Azzi never has to know. This is fine.
Just as she was about to head back inside, she heard it:
“Baby?”
Paige’s head snapped up instantly. Azzi’s voice, coming from the kitchen.
She panicked, half-convinced Azzi had somehow discovered the vodka already. She jogged back in, breathless. “Okay, first of all, whatever I did, it’s not what it looks like—”
Azzi blinked at her. “…What are you talking about?”
“I heard you call me.”
Azzi blinked at her like she’d lost her mind. “I wasn’t talking to you.”
From behind her, Maya’s little voice piped up and immediately launched into rapid-fire self-defense: “I didn’t break the mixer, mom, I swear!”
Azzi frowned, thrown off. “…The mixer?”
And then Paige remembered — the smoothie she made that morning, the way the blender broke halfway through. “Oh, shit,” she muttered, stepping into the kitchen. “Okay, hold up, I didn’t break the mixer either.”
Maya gasped dramatically, pointing at her. “Are you blaming me?!”
Paige flailed her hands. “I didn’t say that!”
Azzi turned, finally inserting herself into the escalating chaos. “…What mixer?”
Paige and Maya said in unison, “The one in the kitchen!”
Azzi blinked, clearly lost. “I didn’t even know the mixer was broken. I called Maya in here to ask if she packed her inhaler.”
Paige and Maya froze, slowly turning to look at each other.
Paige coughed once, straightening. “…Right. Okay, forget the mixer, I’ll buy a new one.” She turned to Maya, gently steering her toward the door. “C’mon, let’s grab your inhaler.”
They’d barely made it into the hallway before Maya narrowed her eyes at her mother. “So you accused me for no reason.”
Paige clutched her chest theatrically. “Don’t act so innocently. I know you’re capable of blender related crimes.”
Maya didn’t flinch, instead, she leaned in lowering her voice like she’d been preparing this moment for years. “I know you broke the mixer. I saw you this morning.”
Paige stopped in her tracks. “…Excuse me?”
“But don’t worry,” Maya whispered, curls bouncing as she tilted her head up with smug precision. God, she looked so much like Azzi it was almost funny, and had the same ability to win an argument before it even started. “I can keep your little secret… for a price.”
Paige arched a brow, amused. “How much?”
Maya considered, tapping her chin like a criminal mastermind. “Ten bucks, and Pop-Tarts in the car.”
Paige scoffed. “I can’t do Pop-Tarts, your mom would kill me.”
“Then twenty.”
“Twenty?!” Paige said awestruck
Maya crossed her arms, stone-cold. “Take it or leave it.”
Paige crouched down to her level, smirking. “…Fifteen.”
Maya grinned “Deal.”
They shook hands, sealing their little alliance and as Maya skipped down the hall toward her inhaler, Paige called after her, “By the way, you should’ve held out for twenty. I would’ve taken it.”
Without missing a beat, Maya yelled back, “And I would’ve closed at five!”
Paige laughed, shaking her head, amused by the sight in front of her. The face was pure Fudd — the same sharp curls, the same stubborn little frown — but there was no denying it: that girl was undeniably a Bueckers.
When she made it back into the kitchen, Azzi was finishing up Maya’s bag, double-checking snacks and neatly packing. Paige leaned against the doorway, watching her for a moment.
“When you said ‘baby’ earlier,” Paige started, softly this time, “I thought you were talking to me.”
Azzi glanced up, pausing mid-zipper. “…Oh.” Her lips curved faintly.
Paige smiled, stepping closer until she was right behind her, chin resting gently on Azzi’s shoulder. “We really do have a baby, huh?”
Azzi’s voice softened too. “Yeah, we do.”
Paige kissed the side of her neck lightly, letting the quiet linger for a moment. “Funny thing is,” she murmured, “you used to call me baby when it was just us.”
Azzi smiled without looking at her. “…I still do.”
And Paige thought about it, about the six-year-old girl with Azzi’s curls and Paige's sass, and somehow, she decided:
That's her happy ending, sharing that precious little word, with her most precious little person.
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A/N: so bittersweet to wrap this cute little series up but i hope you all love it as much as i do!
Content Warning: sexual content (minors DNI), language
Word Count: 3k
“Told you I’m a fast learner.”
“You’re a fucking tease, bro. That’s what you are,” Paige groaned, flopping backwards onto Azzi’s silk pillowcase. “Stop it.”
Azzi lowered her mouth again until she hovered just above Paige’s center, then pressed her lips into a tight circle and blew a long, cool breath.
“Stop it,” she mocked, ignoring the tightened grip on her hair.
Paige whined in response, her hips rising in a motion that left Azzi questioning whether it was reflex or protest. In any case… Paige was getting restless.
Which sucked for her, because Azzi had all the time in the world.
They’d been fooling around for two weeks now–1 a.m. texts sent with invisible ink, secret glances shot across the room when Serena wasn’t looking, quickies on squeaky dorm beds and kitchen countertops and frayed couch cushions and even a library study room desk once or twice. It wasn’t supposed to get further than that night at Liv’s party, but what started as an experiment ended in… well, an orgasm beyond Azzi’s wildest dreams–which quickly turned into five, then eight, and then she’d lost count.
And suddenly, twenty years of boy-craziness meant nothing at all. The world Paige revealed to her held promise, and peace, and thrill unlike anything Azzi had ever experienced, and two weeks later, she knew without a shadow of a doubt that there would be no turning back.
Except… something was missing. Something that would solidify Azzi’s awakening once and for all. She needed to touch where she’d been touched, to taste where she’d been tasted, and after weeks of dropping hints and testing the waters, Paige finally gave her the O.K.
Azzi knew it from the second her hands hooked around the waistband of Paige’s boxers: she’d never know a deeper contentment than loving and being loved by a woman.
And after that first brush of her fingers against Paige’s heat? After the soft, broken sigh that slipped past her lips? Azzi may as well have reached nirvana in an instant.
“You think you’re so funny,” Paige muttered under her breath. “I was right there.”
“Exactly.” Azzi trailed her fingers toward Paige’s thigh, lifting it over her shoulder as she lowered her head again. “You were right there. I’m just tryna…”
Her voice trailed off as she marveled at the sight in front of her–Paige sprawled out on her bed, begging for her touch, dripping wet in anticipation of what awaited her. Pure bliss at her fingertips, so easily obtained and yet so precious that Azzi was afraid to let it slip through her fingers all at once.
“I’m taking my time,” she finished. “Gotta… savor the flavor, you know?”
“Dude, shut up,” Paige laughed, a pout still fixed on her lips.
Azzi giggled at Paige’s response and cocked her head innocently, leaning down to press a few slow kisses to the outside of Paige’s folds.
“Or what?” she teased as she dragged her tongue around the perimeter. “You gonna punish me? I might be into that.”
Paige’s face flushed red, sweat dripping down her temple as she tried–and failed–to chase the buzz of Azzi’s tongue. “I don’t know what to do with you, but you’re in big fucking trouble.”
Azzi ignored her. “Desperate looks so good on you,” she murmured, meeting Paige’s eyes again. “I feel so… powerful. It’s nice.”
“Yeah, well,” Paige breathed. “With great power comes great responsibility. Or whatever.”
“Mmm,” Azzi hummed with a questioning grin, “and what exactly am I responsible for here?”
She watched as Paige squirmed beneath her again, looking like the dictionary definition of hot and bothered. Being the only person in the universe with the ability to change that made Azzi dizzy with desire.
“For finishing what you–oh, God.”
Azzi fought a grin as she flicked her tongue across the surface of Paige’s clit. She watched in awe as those bright blue eyes rolled back, as Paige’s back arched ever so slightly, as her fingers migrated to the back of Azzi’s head to guide her.
Azzi slowed her pace, earning a hard shove of her head from Paige, then pulled her tongue back completely. “Look at me, baby,” she coached, her voice firm and sultry. “I want you to watch me.”
Paige forced her eyes back down to Azzi’s, moaning loudly as Azzi resumed her motions and let Paige position her just where she needed her. Having Paige’s pleasure in the palm of her hands and still letting herself be used? That level of balance, of lust and surrender being distributed so evenly… that was brand new.
“A little less pressure,” Paige directed, loosening her grip on Azzi’s head. “You’re doing so good, though.”
Azzi held her tongue flat against Paige’s clit and moaned at the taste of the slick that coated her tastebuds. She watched the blush in Paige’s face deepen, listened as her breaths began to shallow, melted at the sight of Paige’s eyes pleading with hers.
“Yeah, baby,” Paige breathed. “Just like that.”
Azzi’s fingers drifted up to Paige’s stomach, gently tracing the divots of her abs as Paige shuddered at the touch. With every lap of Azzi’s tongue, Paige’s moans grew sharper, more heavily tinged with impatience and want.
“Fuck, Azzi. I’m close,” she whined, fighting to keep her eyes on Azzi’s as pleasure overtook her. Azzi didn’t reply. She slid her hands down to Paige’s thighs and locked them into position around her neck, and they warmed her cheeks as she focused on settling into a comfortable rhythm for Paige to finish against.
Paige let out a low groan, helpless and shaky and wrecked, and ground her hips into Azzi’s mouth as her hands clutched the base of Azzi’s neck.
And Azzi didn’t… hate it, but with her mouth hard at work and her nose shoved into Paige’s flesh, oxygen was getting harder to find.
“Hands to yourself,” she interjected, staring sternly into Paige’s eyes. Paige didn’t obey immediately, just loosened her grip as her fingers lingered over the tuft of soft curls, but then she dropped them with an exasperated sigh and balled her fists at her sides.
“Good girl,” Azzi murmured in response. Paige scoffed and ran a hand through her hair, chest rising and falling rapidly as Azzi continued to lick at her core. And then she began to tremble, her position freezing while Azzi’s pace remained steady.
“God, Azzi. Fuck, I’m–”
Azzi’s heart raced as pressure began to build in her mind–to get it right, to follow through. But she relaxed as Paige soaked in every flick of her tongue and let out a series of guttural moans for a moment more before the tension in her hips melted away and she sank into the mattress again.
Paige leaned her head back against the pillow and stared at the ceiling for a second, then covered her eyes with her hands as she caught her breath.
And Azzi… Azzi was in another dimension. She bit back a smirk as she watched Paige recuperate, impressed by her own abilities and still reeling from how incredible it felt to finally give what she was so used to receiving.
“You just gonna sit there and stare at me, you weirdo?” Paige muttered before removing her hands from her face and meeting Azzi’s eyes again. “C’mere.”
With a bashful smile, Azzi crawled up the bed and lowered her chest flat against Paige’s as their mouths met in a slow, messy kiss–plump lips and saliva and traces of Paige’s slick all meshed together hungrily, in a cadence that almost felt reassuring. Azzi pulled away first, then rested her head on Paige’s shoulders as she searched Paige’s eyes.
“So?”
Paige laughed and pulled her closer, pressing a quick peck to Azzi’s hairline. “Stop playing, girl.”
“What?” Azzi protested with a giggle. “Just wanted to see how I did.”
Something shifted in Paige’s gaze, the lightheartedness of the moment fading away for a moment as her eyes sterned. “You had me seeing stars, Azzi. I’m serious. You’re unbelievable.”
Azzi’s breath caught in her throat, and she buried her face under Paige’s chin to hide the grin she’d broken into. “Like, actually?”
“Dead serious,” Paige assured her. “I swear to God. You ate it like a pro.”
Azzi dragged a finger across the edge of Paige’s collarbone, her touch gentle and faint. As extraordinary as that… experience had been, and as much as it set in stone that she’d be okay if she moved on from guys, Azzi couldn’t deny that she was scared. Scared of what to make of her identity, of all the self-exploration that awaited her, of her feelings for women, her feelings for Paige.
She knew well enough that neither of them would’ve stuck around for so long if all they felt for each other was sexual–it was just that that truth wasn’t as easy to face before Azzi knew for certain that she was right where she needed to be. But now that every box had been ticked, reality was too deafening to ignore.
There was the technicality of Paige’s whole… past. That classic fuckboy attitude and the laundry list of bodies did deter Azzi from confronting her feelings, but now that she knew what Paige was like in private? When it was just the two of them curled up in someone’s twin bed, exchanging innocent kisses and gentle banter like the rest of the world had dissolved to nothing?
Clearly there was a whole other side to Paige. Or maybe she just had a soft spot for Azzi. Either way, what they had was special and the thought of it ever coming to an end made Azzi sick.
“What are you thinking about?” Paige murmured, her hand rising higher against Azzi’s back and rubbing across her shoulders.
Azzi hesitated for a second, then tilted her head back up to face Paige again. “I think I’m… gay.”
Paige smirked and rolled her eyes. “Well, duh, Sherlock. I could’ve told you that.”
“You know what I meant,” Azzi sighed, a smile lifting at the corners of her lips.
Paige kissed the top of her head again, grazed the top of Azzi’s curls with her fingers. “I do. I’m happy for you, though. Glad I could help pull you over to this side.”
Azzi nodded, then slid off of Paige and propped herself onto her side as Paige turned to face her. Her eyes held something heavy–questions, maybe, or just the weight of being such a critical piece of Azzi’s realization.
She cleared her throat, eyes flicking across the wall behind Azzi. “So, like, obviously, this has been… fun.”
Azzi gulped and nodded again, narrowing her eyes curiously.
“But, like…” Paige continued. “What is it? This, I mean. Us. Not that it needs to be something yet, or… ever, but you know.”
Here we go. Azzi’s heart rate picked up, each beat coming faster than the last as she prepared herself for what inevitably came next.
She shrugged. “I don’t know. But I like it.”
Paige looked down at her again, and Azzi shivered at the arm looping around her waist and pulling her close.
“I like you,” she added.
Paige didn’t respond. Her eyes drifted from Azzi’s again, her thumb stroking soft curves against Azzi’s side. Like Azzi had her attention, but something more was missing.
The silence passed and she cleared her throat, one hand stretching out to toy with the strap of Azzi’s tank top. “So when I go over to Ted’s tonight with the team…”
Her voice trailed off, but her eyes landed on Azzi’s again. She looked… serious. Tense.
“Mhmm…” Azzi hummed.
“And, you know. When all the girls are like ‘Oh, my God! Paige! You’re so hot! Buy me a drink! Let’s make out in the bathroom!’”
Azzi laughed and rolled her eyes, shaking her head in disbelief. “Sure, Paige.”
“I’m being deadass. That’s what they sound like,” Paige chuckled. “But when that happens, should I just say they’re not my type, and I’m not interested? Or should I go with… Option B?”
For a question so ridiculously vague, Azzi’s heart thumped hard against her ribs at the insinuation.
“What’s Option B?” she asked obliviously, just to see if Paige would bite.
Paige’s lips twitched into a smile. “Take a guess.”
If Azzi was right, if that was what this was, if Paige was just too shy to ask the question burning on the back of their tongues–which she did find adorable, by the way–her answer was clear.
And from the seriousness strewn into Paige’s expression, she wasn’t playing around.
“I mean…” Azzi began as she stared up at Paige, eyes wide with anticipation. “You’re not messing around with anyone else? You’re not gonna… want to?”
“I haven’t since the party,” Paige replied with a quick shake of her head. “Haven’t even thought about it, honestly.”
Azzi was overwhelmed, now. Paige had been loyal without any reason to leave her past behind–led with proof and not just words.
She was Azzi’s before they’d even dreamed of where their little fling could take them.
Azzi reached up to Paige’s face as she bit back a smile, caressing the soft skin with her thumb as Paige searched for clues in her eyes.
“Well, then, you’d better go with Option B.”
The tension dropped from Paige’s face in a heartbeat, immediately switched out with a deep relief, and she dove in for a kiss before either of them could even blink. Azzi sank into the press of Paige’s lips against hers–a sensation so familiar, one she’d grown so used to over the weeks, but it buzzed differently against her skin now. Like a promise that something good awaited them.
She locked her hand just under Paige’s jaw as her lips closed around Paige’s, tugging her in deeper as they reveled in the moment. And with every slight pull away to snag a quick breath, or to readjust their positions, Paige chased the gap closed like Azzi would vanish without her touch.
Azzi broke away after a minute, giggling as Paige pouted in response.
“One problem, though,” she noted.
Paige narrowed her eyes. “Hmm?
“I can’t have a loser as a girlfriend.”
Paige dropped her jaw in disbelief, her body jerking backwards as she clutched her imaginary pearls. “I’m not a loser.”
Azzi shook her head. “Your team’s record this season says otherwise.”
She laughed as Paige scoffed defensively, crossing her arms across her chest. “Come to the home game on Tuesday. I’ll prove you wrong.”
“And if you don’t?”
“I will,” Paige insisted. “You’ll see.”
Azzi leaned back in for a peck on Paige’s lips. “Hope so,” she replied with a grin. “I’ll take your word for it.”
—-------
The field stretched wide under the late-afternoon sun, bright green and buzzing with movement. Azzi tugged at the front of her hoodie and scanned the clusters of players warming up, her eyes skimming over French braids and jerseys until… there.
Paige.
Even from a distance, she stood out: loose blond hair pulled into a low ponytail, socks halfway up her calves, a smile that somehow reached across the field. She was dribbling the ball between her feet, every flick of her ankle effortless.
“There she is,” Azzi murmured, nudging the girl beside her.
Maya followed her gaze and let out a low whistle. “She’s… yeah. Way cuter than Instagram.”
Azzi didn’t even have time to reply before Paige turned and spotted her, immediately blowing a kiss from across the distance.
“Wait, Azzi, what the hell?” Maya shrieked. “That was so cute. I’m actually about to cry.”
Azzi dropped into the bleachers, biting her lip to hide a smile that refused to fade. “Shut up,” she muttered.
The game started fast, and minutes blurred as Paige darted through the field with that same quiet focus Azzi loved when she played volleyball–sharp, poised, a storm in motion. Every time her cleats hit the grass, Azzi felt her pulse kick up a little.
Cheers rose and fell. And by the final whistle, the scoreboard read 2–2. Overtime.
But then it happened–a clean pass, a sudden opening. Paige sprinted up the right side, cut in, and struck. The ball curved high into the perfect arch and hit the top corner of the net.
“Bueckers, for the win!” the announcer shouted, voice cracking through the speakers.
The crowd absolutely erupted. Paige threw her arms up, instantly swarmed by teammates, and laughed as they tackled her into a hug near the goalpost. Azzi beamed at her from the bleachers, partly out of genuine pride and partly in surrender from being proven wrong.
The chaos settled, and Paige grabbed a towel from the bench and took a few long gulps of her water before slinging her bag over her shoulder. She scanned the stands immediately, and her gaze caught Azzi’s and softened as she jogged over.
“Hey, you,” Azzi greeted her when she’d reached the rail. She reached up for a hug, but Paige shook her head.
“Hi, beautiful. I’m gross right now, I’ll hug you later,” Paige replied as she leaned down for a quick kiss.
Azzi’s heart skipped a beat–they’d never kissed so publicly before, especially not in front of friends and teammates and half the school–but it felt… relieving. Like being herself didn’t have to be something hidden away in secret. Like she could be Paige’s for the whole world to see, and she could be proud of it.
“Guys, stop,” Maya whined. “I feel so single.”
Paige laughed, stepping back a little as Azzi introduced them. “Paige, this is my teammate Maya. Maya, Paige.”
Paige shook Maya’s hand, still smiling. “Hey. Nice to finally meet you.”
She turned back to Azzi. “Told you I’d prove you wrong.”
Azzi laughed as she and Maya stepped away from the railing and began to walk with Paige toward the exit.
“Thank God,” she teased. “Eight straight losses was a little embarrassing. Could never be us.”
“Like, ever,” Maya agreed. “Reigning champs, mind you.”
Paige chuckled and shook her head. “I’m chillin’. I won when it mattered.”
The sun dipped low behind the field lights, the air warm and humming with victory. Paige brushed her hand against Azzi’s–once, then again–and Azzi didn’t bother hiding her smile this time. She took Paige’s hand in hers, fingers interlocking tightly. She’d never been more sure of anything in her life.
A/N: i definitely had zero intention of continuing this at first but i couldn't resist lol hope y'all enjoy!
Content Warning: language, sexual content (minors DNI)
Word Count: 3.6k
“Show me.”
As softly as Azzi had spoken, her words captivated far more of Paige’s attention than the music pulsing through the apartment. Paige gritted her teeth, her heart thudding against her ribcage. She nodded once. Secured a hand firmly around Azzi’s waist.
Her room had never felt so far away. She guided Azzi out of the kitchen without a word, and something in her ignited more and more as Azzi clung to her in the middle of the crowd. Paige pushed through the sea of bodies impatiently, one hand glued to Azzi as the other cleared a path.
They turned the corner, and Paige rolled her eyes at one of the soccer guys tonguing down a girl she didn’t recognize right in front of her door.
“Jay, bro,” she groaned, nudging his shoulder as Azzi coughed to hide a giggle. He didn’t answer, just pulled the girl along with him as he slid out of the doorway.
Paige didn’t waste any time once they’d slipped into the room. Within seconds, she’d pinned Azzi against the door and anchored a hand low on her waist. Her lips returned to Azzi’s, hungry and driven, and she suppressed a moan as Azzi sighed into the kiss.
As many girls as she’d been with–and she’d lost track of her body count years ago–Azzi awakened something new in Paige. She’d never felt so nervous, never put so much pressure on herself to get something right. This wasn’t just a quick fuck. Wasn’t just a random girl. Azzi was… different. Special.
It occurred to Paige then that her room was in no state to be having someone over. Her dark purple sheets sat unmade on her bed, and a heap of unfolded laundry was piled against the far corner, and her dirty cleats had been tossed carelessly across the floor the second she’d returned from practice. She really didn’t know where her head was at earlier–letting her eyes linger on the cute girl in her study group for a little too long, playing footsie with her under the table, inviting her over just for the hell of it, kissing her in the kitchen. But Paige knew she was right where she was supposed to be. She just had to hope and pray that the dim glow of her desk lamp wasn’t bright enough to expose anything ick-worthy.
“Straight to the point,” Azzi teased as she pulled away to take a breath, draping her arms around Paige’s neck.
Paige fumbled with the doorknob and twisted the lock, then wrapped her hands tighter around Azzi’s waist. “I mean, this is me starting slow,” she smirked, her eyes low and focused, “but if it’s too much, I can–”
Azzi shut her up with another kiss. Her hand found the side of Paige’s face, holding it steady as their lips fell into a slow rhythm, and Paige nearly melted at how soft it all was. She let her tongue drift across Azzi’s bottom lip and dove in once access had been granted, exploring the space between Azzi’s parted lips through gentle swipes. Azzi matched her pace, kissed deeper, and harder, and this time, Paige moaned aloud.
Normally, she would’ve found it embarrassing. Would’ve kicked herself for messing up the whole nonchalant vibe she worked so hard to maintain. But as she felt Azzi’s lips turn upwards into the faintest smile at the sound she’d made, Paige shrugged it off. This wasn’t the time to play it cool–she needed to return every ounce of adrenaline flowing through her veins. To replace it with ecstasy. To make sure Azzi felt every. Last. Spark.
Her fingers snaked up the side of Azzi’s ribs, slid under the hem of her top, and grazed the edge of her breast. She paused, catching the hitch of Azzi’s breath before resting the center of her palm against Azzi’s nipple.
Azzi’s movements slowed as warmth crept across her chest. Her lips lost their rhythm once or twice–overwhelmed, maybe, by Paige’s touch on her body in three different places–but Paige pulled her back in every time, kissed gently, and patiently, and waited for Azzi to recalibrate before she finally brushed Azzi’s nipple with a careful stroke of her thumb.
The kiss broke as Azzi gasped softly, and Paige felt the rush of a speeding heartbeat under her hand. She didn’t reconnect their lips this time, just trailed quick kisses from the corner of Azzi’s mouth to the bottom of her jaw. Azzi’s breath caught again and she tilted her head upward to give Paige more space, one hand sliding down from Paige’s neck and landing just above her chest.
Paige continued palming Azzi’s breast, circling that sensitive spot in the center every now and then, and let her eyes fall shut as Azzi’s breaths became more weighted with every sloppy kiss pressed to her neck. Paige sucked softly, warm skin taut between her teeth, and she felt her own pulse quickening as each exhale slipping from Azzi’s mouth grew louder until quiet moans filled the air between them.
She groaned and bit down harder, thumb flicking faster across Azzi’s nipple, and the hand planted on Azzi’s waist ventured backwards until she’d secured a grip on Azzi’s ass. Azzi pushed back against the door to force more pressure from Paige’s hand, and Paige squeezed in response. She inched further across the back of Azzi’s skirt until her fingertips dipped into the crevice in the center, eliciting a deeper moan that fell straight to her core from Azzi’s lips.
Paige let her mouth find Azzi’s again. She tilted her head until their lips locked perfectly, fighting a smirk as Azzi squirmed against her fingers. Azzi’s tongue met hers, slow and sloppy, and Paige dropped the hand pressed against Azzi’s breast to strengthen the hold on her ass. She cupped tightly and relaxed the pace of her lips, sighing as Azzi resisted the change in momentum and kissed her hard.
She couldn’t ignore the way her center burned anymore. Never before had she felt so needy so quickly, and for a second, Paige’s mind went blank. But she followed the pull of her body and let her hips crash against Azzi’s, pressing forward into a mess of legs staggered between each other, and Azzi gasped at the pressure firm beneath her core.
Paige pulled back from the kiss and watched as Azzi’s lashes fluttered and her eyes lifted to the ceiling, jaw slack as as her chest rose and fell. The warmth on Paige’s thigh taunted her, and she eased Azzi closer in the slightest rocking motion.
“Oh, God,” Azzi breathed, resting her loose curls against the door. Paige pushed her leg further between Azzi’s, a wave of heat rushing over her as Azzi began to grind against her. She swallowed hard, refusing to remove her eyes from the sight of Azzi using her.
Azzi met her eyes and smiled nervously. “What?” she asked softly, still breathing heavily as Paige continued to pull her close. “You see something you like?”
Paige’s eyes drifted lower, staring at the collision of their clothed bodies.
“I see something I need.”
She tightened her hold on Azzi’s ass and lifted her off her feet, turning to the bed and placing Azzi on the edge. Azzi hooked her legs around Paige’s waist to draw her closer, and Paige scoffed at how weak it made her. A hand rose to Azzi’s chin, pulling her in for another kiss, but Paige held back this time. She kissed slowly, delicately, as her other hand wandered along the side of Azzi’s skirt, fingers teasing under the hem for a moment. Azzi moaned into her mouth and Paige crept up further until her hand rested at the curve where Azzi’s thigh met her center.
“You sound so pretty for me already,” she murmured against Azzi’s lips, fingers brushing the edge of her panties. “And I haven’t even started for real.”
“Stop messing with me,” Azzi whispered breathlessly. Her lips pressed against Paige’s again, immediately met with a low chuckle rather than a kiss back.
Paige slid a finger under her panties, running it across the outside of her folds. “Someone’s bossy,” she noted, amusement playing at her lips. “You sure this is your first time?”
Azzi inhaled sharply at the touch. “I mean, I’m straight, but I’m not a virgin,” she corrected. “Just used to having a dick down my throat at this point.”
“Oh, for real?” Paige laughed, removing her hand from under Azzi’s skirt as she hopped onto the bed and pushed Azzi back against the pillows. “Gross.”
She positioned herself on top of Azzi–knees steady around Azzi’s thighs, one hand anchored at the edge of the bed, the other fumbling with Azzi’s top until it dove under the fabric and found Azzi’s breast again. Leaning down for another kiss, she let their lips collide again. Their mouths were heavy with tension now, rushed and impatient and careless. Paige’s handle on Azzi’s breast matched it. Her fingers were firm against the hardened nipple, rubbing and squeezing in a steady pattern as Azzi pouted against her lips.
“Well, rookie?” she asked as she lifted Azzi’s top up higher, her voice low and raspy. “You enjoying yourself?”
Azzi groaned. “I would be, if you’d just–”
She gasped as Paige’s lips closed around her breast, the gentle suction leaving her speechless.
“You were saying?” Paige mumbled. Her hand returned to Azzi’s thigh, sliding up until her fingers brushed against the soft cotton of Azzi’s panties again.
“Nothing,” Azzi lied as her hips bucked, chasing the buzz of Paige’s touch on her sensitive skin.
Paige sucked harder, tongue swirling around Azzi’s nipple, and pulled off with a sharp pop. “Right,” she breathed. “Just trust me.”
Azzi nodded quickly. Her chest heaved with every brush of Paige’s fingertips against her core. Paige dove back down and took Azzi’s breast in her mouth, lapping at the nipple as she finally grazed the wetness of Azzi’s center.
All for me, she thought to herself as she explored the soaked skin under Azzi’s panties. She circled just around Azzi’s clit, eyes rolling back as Azzi whimpered beneath her.
Desperate for a better visual of Azzi’s reaction, Paige eased off of Azzi’s breast again. She lifted her head and sighed deeply at the sight before her: sweat slicking Azzi’s curls to her forehead, bottom lip pulled between her teeth, eyes squeezed shut, cheeks redder than Paige remembered.
She watched for a moment, awestruck as her fingers dipped over Azzi’s entrance to heighten her reaction. Azzi bucked harder this time, hips slamming against Paige’s above her, and Paige felt her own boxers dampen as warmth crashed over her body.
“I’m really tryna take my time with you,” Paige muttered, her finger slick as she stroked the edge of Azzi’s folds. “Like, I swear I’m being patient, but… God, Azzi. You feel so good.”
“Fuck that,” Azzi hissed, each breath more strained than the last. “Please, Paige.”
Paige didn’t need to be told twice. She felt around Azzi’s skirt for a zipper, finding one hidden in the seam to her left, and tugged it down carefully before sliding Azzi’s skirt and panties down together. Her arms reached under to position Azzi’s legs wider, saliva pooling in her mouth as her eyes immediately locked on the soft brown skin dripping with white between Azzi’s thighs.
She gulped, her breath ragged with desire. “So fucking pretty,” she groaned, and she slid her hand back down to where Azzi needed her most.
“Paige,” Azzi repeated, growing more impatient by the second.
Paige dragged two fingers between Azzi’s folds until they reached her clit. She rubbed lightly at first, just barely grazing the surface as Azzi drew in sharp breaths and trembled beneath her, and added pressure little by little.
“Oh…” Azzi breathed, her back arching under Paige’s touch. “God, that feels so…”
Paige fell into a steadier pattern. She traced slow circles around the bud as Azzi cried out softly in pleasure, each moan reminding Paige of the throbbing between her own legs until she gave in and began to grind her hips down into the bed.
When Azzi’s cries intensified, Paige repositioned her hand so that her thumb could stroke Azzi’s clit while her fingers teased at the entrance below it. Azzi’s hands found Paige’s hair again, grasping at the back of her head, and she gripped tighter with every teasing brush of Paige’s fingers.
Paige slid them inside slowly, watching as Azzi’s eyes widened at the stretch of her walls. Her jaw tightened at the feeling of Azzi’s warmth around her fingers, tight and soft and slippery all at once. She pumped in and out gently, her thumb still working Azzi’s clit, and groaned at the pull on her roots.
Her lips found the inside of Azzi’s thigh and she dropped a few small kisses just above the knee, kissing longer and harder as she trailed upward. She began to nibble at Azzi’s skin when she was about halfway up, almost invisible bruises marking her path, and breathed shakily as Azzi gasped at each bite.
“Wait, wait, Paige,” Azzi whispered as Paige’s lips neared her core.
Paige paused and looked up at her. “You okay?”
“Yeah,” Azzi nodded. “Just… go slow. I’ve never…”
“Never what?” Paige asked, genuinely puzzled at Azzi’s comment until she realized what was being alluded to. Her throat burned as it hit her. “Wait. You’ve never had anyone–”
“No.” Azzi cut her off, shaking her head hard. “Like, never.”
Paige stared at her, pulse pounding in her ears. “Oh, my God,” she muttered.
This was a first. Not just her fucking-a-straight-girl debut, but someone who’d never really been pleased by anyone? The pressure was on, and Paige was ready to give Azzi something she’d never forget.
She looked up again, her heart swelling at the panic behind those perfect brown eyes.
“I got you, beautiful,” she promised. “You’re okay. Just trust me.”
Azzi nodded again and rested her head against the pillows, letting the tension in her bones dissolve, and Paige kissed more softly along her inner thigh this time. Paige hovered over her clit for a moment and she watched as Azzi’s breath hitched in anticipation before lowering her lips.
She dropped a gentle kiss, then a second one, and then she took Azzi into her mouth with the softest suction she could manage. Azzi’s hands found Paige’s hair again, holding it back as Paige continued to suck and just barely introduced her tongue.
“God, yes,” Azzi moaned. “That’s perfect.”
Paige took that as an order to keep at it. She let her movements repeat in a cycle of soft laps and shallow suction, groaning at the taste of Azzi’s slick on her tongue. She hadn’t gone in with any expectations, but God, Paige had never eaten anything sweeter. Azzi was perfection.
“You taste so good, baby,” Paige muttered against Azzi’s core between licks. “I could stay here all night long. Fuck that party.”
Azzi mumbled something unintelligible in response.
“Speak up, pretty girl,” Paige instructed, eyes finding Azzi’s as her mouth maintained its pace.
Azzi opened her mouth to speak, then paused as a wave of pleasure washed over her. “More,” she finally whispered. “I’m ready, Paige, I need more.”
Paige didn’t reply, just complied immediately as her lips tightened against Azzi’s clit. Her tongue reached lower, too, teasing at Azzi’s entrance and pulling every drop of liquid gold into her mouth.
Azzi shifted a little against the bed, her hands clenching harder around Paige’s hair. “Oh, fuck,” she sighed as she rocked her hips closer to Paige’s mouth.
Paige bore her hips down onto the mattress again, desperate to ease the ache between her legs that intensified with every shaky sound slipping from Azzi’s lips. This was a first, too–being so turned on by the pleasure she’d given someone else that she couldn’t resist joining in on the fun.
“You have no idea what you’re doing to me,” she scoffed. “So perfect for me.”
Azzi whined as Paige’s tongue darted into her entrance, licking lightly at the opening before thrusting deeper. Paige began to pulse more rhythmically, but it wasn’t quite… enough. She needed to really feel Azzi’s walls closing in on her, to feel each constriction in as much intricate detail as possible.
Paige raised a hand to Azzi’s center again, careful and light. “You okay if I fuck you with my fingers again, baby? I’ll start slow.”
“Mhmm,” Azzi replied immediately, eyes shut as she focused on the sensations falling on her core.
“No, mama,” Paige directed, quiet but firm as she lifted her head. “Look at me. I need to hear you use your words, okay?”
Azzi groaned, but she made eye contact again and continued to push her hips forward. “Yes, Paige, I need you inside me.”
Paige pushed two fingers into Azzi again, easy and delicate, at first, but then she lowered her mouth back onto Azzi’s clit and moaned as soft whimpers hit her ears.
“Fuck, baby, just like that,” Azzi panted, securing Paige’s head to grind against it. “Oh, my God. Oh, my God, Paige!”
Paige flicked her tongue faster against Azzi’s clit, her fingers thrusting more quickly as Azzi tightened around her. “Good girl,” she breathed. “So, so good for me.”
Azzi wailed as her back arched higher, as her body shook with each push and pull of Paige’s fingers. “I think I’m close,” she warned as every millimeter of Paige’s lips enveloped her clit. “Paige, I’m gonna–”
“I got you,” Paige reassured her. “Let it go when you’re ready.”
Make it count, Paige urged herself. She gathered every last bit of strength, ignoring the way her tongue began to cramp as she kept a steady pace for Azzi to finish against.
Azzi clenched against Paige’s fingers and rode out her climax, knuckles white as she gripped onto the sheets before she finally collapsed onto the bed. Paige reached for her hand immediately, interlocking their fingers, and pressed her lips to the back of Azzi’s hand while she watched Azzi come down from her high.
“You…” she murmured between kisses, “were… incredible.”
Azzi gave a weak laugh in response, her chest still heaving. “Thanks, I guess,” she joked. “You’re not bad, either.”
“Well, I’d hope so,” Paige chuckled, pushing herself up and sliding in next to Azzi.
She reached an arm out to her side and pulled Azzi in closer. “Seriously, though,” she insisted. “I mean it. I’ve never had anything like that before.”
Azzi looked up at her inquisitively, like she was debating whether Paige was being genuine. Her eyes softened in the end. “Neither have I.”
Her tone was gentle, but her words struck something deep in Paige. For the first time, Paige wasn’t sure she’d be able to pull off her typical fuck-and-forget. She’d discovered something so infinite and fulfilling between Azzi’s thighs, something she knew she wouldn’t be able to let go of.
“Well,” Azzi sighed, sitting up straighter as she reached for her skirt. “I probably shouldn’t have left Serena with that boy for too long. I think I should get back.”
Paige’s heart panged. Not yet, she wanted to plead.
“You sure? The guys are a bunch of hornballs, but they’re harmless so I’m sure she’s fine.”
Azzi giggled as she lowered herself from the bed and pulled her panties on. “Yeah, I should check on her,” she replied. “We’ve been gone for a while.”
Paige nodded, trying her hardest to mask her disappointment. “You’re sweet. I think I’m gonna hang back here for a little, though.”
She watched as Azzi zipped up her skirt and smoothed it down, then raised a hand to her hair as she flattened a few stray curls. Azzi was gorgeous before, but being slightly undone from the way she’d been pleasured added another layer of beauty from Paige’s point of view.
Azzi turned toward her next, smiling shyly before leaning in for one last kiss. Paige suddenly felt as though she hadn’t tried hard enough to remember Azzi’s touch, like she needed to memorize every detail of this final moment. Her mind drifted from the smell of Azzi’s perfume, rich and musky, to the warm pressure soft against her skin, and then it was over as quickly as it began.
“Bye,” Azzi grinned as she pulled away. “Thanks for… yeah.”
Paige laughed softly. “You’re so welcome.”
She watched Azzi walk away towards the door, double-checking herself quickly in the full-length mirror next to it. Her hand reached out to unlock the doorknob, fingers barely brushing the cool metal before–
“Wait.”
Azzi turned back to face her. “Hmm?” she asked, eyes narrowed curiously.
“Um,” Paige began, her gaze drifting across the room like she was suddenly too nervous to meet Azzi’s. “I’ll… text you.”
She dragged her eyes back to Azzi, the tension melting as she caught a glimmer of careful anticipation in Azzi’s face.
“And I’ll text you back,” Azzi replied, biting back a smile as her fingers closed around the doorknob.
Paige shook her head to hide the grin her lips had spread into. “K. Get home safe.”
“I will,” Azzi promised. “Don’t party too hard.”
“I think you’re the one who needs to hear that. You already forgot how I had you in your little birthday suit just now?”
Azzi laughed and finally opened the door. “Bye, Paige,” she called out behind her, barely audible over the bass blasting in from the living room.
She shut the door behind her, but Paige kept her eyes fixed on the doorway like Azzi never left.
She never did return to the party. By the end of the night, her sheets were tucked into crisp corners. Her laundry was folded neatly in her dresser. Her cleats had found their place in her closet. And her memory had replayed the way Azzi’s lips danced against hers a thousand times over.
A/N: i think i wanna start messing around with one shots more! lmk what you think! (also yes i changed the title 1 minute after posting leave me alone)
Word Count: 2.6k
Content Warning: language, alcohol
“Does that 5 look like an S to you?” Paige asked, squinting at the poster as she capped the purple marker in her hand.
Serena craned her neck to get a better view. “Um,” she started, holding in a laugh. “A little, yeah.”
Paige pouted, dropping the marker onto the table as she slumped back into her seat. “Whatever, bro. I told y’all I don’t do arts and crafts.”
Azzi peered over her laptop screen from across the table. “It’s not that bad,” she said as she pushed her chair away from the table and stretched her back as she stood. She leaned over the table to pull the poster closer to her and grabbed the marker, carefully sharpening the corners that Paige had curved too much.
The sun stung her eyes as it set through the window next to her, little rays illuminating the library as the afternoon turned to evening. Fall seemed to come earlier in Connecticut than in DC–cooler breezes, longer nights, maple leaves already clogging up the UConn sidewalks. Azzi didn’t mind. Her life was a blur of class and volleyball practice and the twin XL mattress she swore was laced with melatonin.
“Damn,” Paige muttered, eyes following every gentle stroke Azzi made. “You’re good.”
Azzi’s lips curled into a smile, but she didn’t look up. “You didn’t have a bubble letter phase in fifth grade?”
She finished coloring and stood back, admiring her work before sitting again. Her gaze drifted to Paige, who was spread out lazily in the chair across from her.
“Nah, not really,” Paige replied. “Too busy playing footsie with whichever girl was lucky enough to sit next to me.”
Serena cackled, shaking her head as she began to outline the rest of the title in pencil. “Yeah, right. In fifth grade?”
Paige smirked and sat up straighter. “Swear to God, I had alllllll the huzz blowing up my iPod touch back in the day. I just got it like that.”
Azzi rolled her eyes and looked back at her screen, biting back a smile. She’d found the cockiness annoying at first, but Paige had grown on her after a few weeks of study sessions and group projects. Something about the way she carried herself, so confident and relaxed and secure, was oddly… attractive.
Azzi shrugged it off at first–she was into guys, after all–but she couldn’t deny that she wondered what it would be like to have some fun with a girl anyway. Just… for the plot. And a player like Paige would be the perfect experiment. No feelings. No commitment. Nothing more than a funny story to tell one day.
“Back in the day, though? Not anymore?” Azzi teased as she closed out the paragraph she was on.
Paige scoffed. “Hell naw. If I take my phone off DND, it sounds like a vibrator.”
“What the actual fuck, dude,” Serena laughed, staring at Paige in disbelief.
“Just sayin’,” Paige mumbled.
Azzi swallowed a giggle and finished writing, turning her laptop around so Paige and Serena could see. “What do y’all think?”
Serena scanned the page, nodding as she read. “Looks good to me.”
Paige leaned forward to see the screen and furrowed her brow. “I don’t know what those big words mean, but you look like you know what you’re doing.”
Azzi chuckled as she hit print and scooted away from the table. She shut her laptop, let her eyes meet Paige’s. “You’re really just here to play soccer and mess with girls, huh?”
“Absolutely,” Paige replied immediately, holding Azzi’s gaze as Azzi smiled and shook her head disapprovingly. Azzi slowly rose to her feet and made a bit of a show of pulling her volleyball shorts up, then spun around and walked toward the printers.
Halfway across the room, she looked back for a fraction of a second. Paige’s eyes darted away from Azzi’s waist, her cheeks betraying her with a wash of pink. Azzi turned her head back around and let herself grin now that Paige couldn’t see. Her attention was satisfying, affirming, and Azzi took it as a green light.
She returned with the papers and plopped back into her chair, pulling out a pair of scissors from her bookbag. Paige snatched it from her and reached for the stack of papers.
“I got it,” she offered, beginning to cut carefully around a set of bullet points. “Since y’all did all the big brain work, and ‘cause I’m, like, the scissor master or whatever. If you know, you know.”
Azzi and Serena stared at each other, amusement and fear and a little bit of second-hand embarrassment in their eyes.
“You need to be spayed,” Serena muttered, holding back a laugh. “Real bad.”
“Like, expeditiously,” Azzi added.
Paige rolled her eyes. “Homophobia is so not cool,” she replied, raising her voice enough for a few heads to turn at the table next to them. “Why can’t you guys just accept me for who I am?”
Heat rose to Azzi’s cheeks as unfamiliar eyes landed on her, but she laughed it off anyway and kicked Paige’s leg under the table.
“Wow, Paige chuckled, her voice softer now. “And now you’re assaulting me, too? You know that’s a hate crime, right?”
Azzi looked back down at her laptop as a grin crept across her face. “So dramatic,” she shot back.
A kick to her foot, lighter than the one she’d delivered a moment ago, startled her. Her eyes flickered up, catching Paige’s as she smirked over the sheet of paper she was cutting from, and returned to the screen.
Azzi sank deeper into her seat to let her legs reach further, the toe of her Crocs settling inches away from Paige’s slides. She kicked back, watching Paige’s face ease into soft satisfaction. They continued in a gentle battle under the table until the poster was complete, with every paragraph cut and pasted neatly and colorful details scattered around the border.
“Nice work, team,” Serena said with a yawn, rolling the poster up and securing it with a rubber band. “I can take it home and bring it to class on Monday.”
“Sounds good,” Azzi replied as she tossed her supplies into her bookbag and zipped it up. She kicked Paige one last time before sliding her feet away and standing up, earning a defeated glare.
Paige stood and slung her bookbag over her shoulder, and the three of them headed out of the library.
“Y’all wanna grab something to eat?” Serena suggested once the doors slammed behind them.
“Ugh, I wish,” Azzi replied apologetically. “I have practice. Another time, though.”
“Same here,” Paige added. “But if you’re both free tonight, we’re having a little get-together for my teammate’s birthday over at our apartment. I can text you the info.”
Serena shrugged as she slowed her steps and turned to the left. “I’m down. I’m literally starving, though, so I’m gonna head to Chick-fil-A. See you later!”
Azzi waved at her. “Bye, Serena!”
“See ya!” Paige called out.
And then there were two.
“So,” Paige said over the crunch of leaves shattering under their footsteps. “Can you make it? It’s just the team and Liv’s friends–that’s the birthday girl–and some people from the men’s team, too.”
Azzi hummed pensively. “I have a 9 a.m. tomorrow, but I can try to stop by for a little bit.”
Paige nodded. “Nice. You’re crazy for that, though. I’d drop out before making myself sit through a lecture on a Friday.”
“Some of us are studious, Paige,” Azzi laughed, shoving her playfully.
“Nah, I like my four-day weekends,” Paige replied as she shook her head. “More free nights to go out. They started prepping Shirley Temples for me at Ted’s from Thursday to Monday.”
“You sound like a problem,” Azzi chuckled.
A soft smile crept across Paige’s lips. “I just like to have fun. Life is short, you know? Might as well party and fuck pretty girls and kick a stupid little ball across a field while I’m here.”
“I guess so,” Azzi agreed, moving out of her way to step on an extra crispy leaf.
“Ugh,” Paige grumbled. “I wanted that one.”
Azzi giggled and kicked another leaf toward her. “My bad.”
It crushed under Paige’s step, a gust of wind sending each tiny bright red piece flying. They walked in silence for a little while longer, but then the soccer field came into view. Azzi caught the disappointment in her chest, quickly replaced by excitement that they’d see each other later on.
“This is me,” Paige announced, turning to face Azzi. “See you tonight, though. Have fun at practice.”
Azzi smiled coyly. “You, too. Bye, Paige.”
Paige waved as she jogged off onto the field with her blond ponytail swinging behind her. The buzz of adrenaline still surged through Azzi’s body, electrified at the thought of Paige.
—-------
An eternity later, Serena joined Azzi in the lobby of Paige’s building.
“Hey, pretty!” she greeted Azzi, tucking her phone into the pocket of her ripped jeans. “Love the skirt.”
“Thanks,” Azzi said shyly. “I tried on, like, a million different outfits. And your top is so cute.”
Serena thought hard as they walked to the elevator. “H&M, I think,” she said after a moment. “Their student discount is insane.”
“Good to know,” Azzi nodded, stepping inside as the metal doors opened.
Serena hummed and pressed the number 4, then straightened her top and tucked a few loose strands of dark brown hair behind her ears.
“Soccer players are so cute,” she smirked as the platform lifted. “I’m kinda excited.”
Azzi bit her lip. “For real,” she agreed, though she had a feeling they had very different ideas of attractive soccer players in mind.
Bass boomed through the elevator doors before they’d even opened, and Azzi and Serena followed it down the hall to room 427. Serena turned the knob and stepped inside, flinching at how loud the music was without the door muffling it.
Azzi followed her inside and scanned the dimly lit room for Paige, squinting and politely dodging bodies as she walked through the apartment with Serena. A few guys stared as she passed, and normally, she would’ve waved and flirted and maybe made out with them in a hallway. But tonight? She wasn’t there for a boy.
“Wait, he’s kinda hot,” Serena said into her ear, pointing to a guy in the distance. “Should I go talk to him?”
Serena nodded and squeezed Azzi’s arm as they separated, and Azzi continued her hunt for Paige. She checked the living room, then the balcony, and then the kitchen before her eyes finally locked on that wavy blond hair. Paige was leaned back against the kitchen counter, cup in hand, with about four girls swarming her.
She jolted upright as she noticed Azzi through the crowd and waved her over, a hint of something like embarrassment in her eyes at the scene Azzi had found her in.
“Hey, you made it,” she called across the kitchen as the distance between them grew smaller.
Azzi slid in next to Paige, her heart beating faster as Paige draped an arm around her shoulder.
“Guys, this is Azzi,” she said to the girls without breaking eye contact. “We’re in the same econ class.”
They waved politely, but a few of them shot Azzi glances she couldn’t decipher. Jealousy? Annoyance? She couldn’t tell.
“Hey, nice to meet you,” Azzi said, her voice barely audible over the music.
The crowd around Paige began to disperse, and she cocked her head at Azzi as she looked around.
“Serena?” she asked.
Azzi stood on her toes and leaned closer to Paige’s ear. “She found a cute guy, like, two seconds after we got here.”
Paige laughed, tightening her grip on Azzi’s arm. “Came here with a mission,” she replied. Her eyes drifted from Azzi’s curls to her strappy sandals, catching a little at the hem of her miniskirt.
“And what about you?” Paige asked, raising her cup to her lips. “Anything in mind for the night? I know the guys had to be drooling over you.”
Azzi shrugged and settled more comfortably into Paige’s embrace. “They were. Just not in the mood for them right now.”
Paige choked on her drink, whipping her head away from Azzi as she coughed. “Oh, for real?” she asked once her throat was clear. “What are you craving?”
Azzi looked at her again–really looked at her–and slid her hand around Paige’s waist. Her heart was pounding again, each beat faster than the next, at the new audacity she couldn’t believe she’d mustered.
“Mmmm,” she hummed into Paige’s ear, “something… new.”
Paige nodded slowly and handed Azzi her cup, watching as Azzi reluctantly took a sip. Her face twitched as she swallowed, nose turning up in disgust, but she took another sip anyway.
“It’s not the worst,” Azzi said. “Too sweet for me, though.”
Paige chuckled as her hand dropped to Azzi’s waistband, fingers grazing the inch of exposed skin under her crop top. Azzi shivered, then scolded herself for reacting so physically. But Paige didn’t shy away. Her fingers drifted under Azzi’s shirt and landed just below her ribcage.
“You know, you brought me back to fifth grade earlier,” she said softly. “All the messing around under the table? It’s stupid, but it kinda reminded me of how much I loved being someone’s… first.”
Azzi looked down to hide the way her cheeks reddened. Somewhere down the line, she’d lost the plot entirely. This was supposed to be a one-time thing, a trial run of something she’d sworn was bound to fail, but the way Paige looked at her like she was the only girl in the room? The way her attention hadn’t wandered since she’d laid eyes on Azzi? That was something guys had never shown her.
She urged herself to be careful–Paige had proven herself as a true and utter fuckboy over the weeks, but with Paige’s hands holding her steady and Paige’s voice soft in her ear and Paige’s drink coating her throat, Azzi decided any risk would be worth the reward.
“Of course, I wasn’t doing much more than sending kissy-face emojis,” Paige continued, earning a giggle from Azzi. “But it’s been hard for me to find that as an adult–someone who’s actually brand new, I mean. It’s a new kind of satisfaction.”
Azzi met Paige’s blue eyes as they searched her face. “Yeah, I thought I knew what I liked,” she replied.
“So then… What sparked your curiosity?” Paige pushed, her breath warm against Azzi’s ear.
“Someone who seemed to know what they were doing,” she answered. “Confidence is such a turn-on.”
She watched as something shifted behind Paige’s eyes, as seriousness crept into her expression.
And then Paige set her drink on the counter behind her, hooked her hand under Azzi’s jaw, and closed the distance between them.
She kissed Azzi carefully, like she might break if her limits were tested too suddenly. Azzi matched her pace—smooth, gentle, delicate—but the pressure of their mouths lingered longer than necessary and hinted at everything they were holding back. It left Azzi aching–not from a lack of passion, but from how bittersweet Paige’s restraint tasted against her lips.
“I’m done with all the tiptoeing,” Paige muttered as she pulled away, slipping a finger under the waistband of Azzi’s skirt. “I just need you to know that I can make your body feel things you’ve never even dreamed of. If you’ll let me.”
Azzi shook her head. “Don’t tell me that,” she replied as she stood up straighter. She kissed Paige again, harder this time. Like a promise that they were on the same wavelength. That she was ready for what came next.
hi! I am looking for a fic where there’s a part, a specific scene, where P said A still has some things to discover about herself (internalized homophobia) and that she’s giving her time (?). I think A was with a guy before they became a thing.
Y does everyone keep requesting smut???? I need some really fluffy fluff like clingy Azzi not wanting to stop touching Paige so P does her night routine for her. Please. (btw the the smut is really good tho)
everyone freaky boi
anytime
it starts with a yawn. one of those long, full-body ones that makes azzi melt deeper into the couch and nuzzle her face against paige’s shoulder. paige feels it before she hears it—the slow, sleepy weight of azzi’s body settling in, the way her hand curls tighter around paige’s hoodie drawstring like she’s afraid it’ll disappear if she lets go.
“you should get ready for bed,” paige murmurs, brushing her thumb under azzi’s chin.
azzi shakes her head, soft curls brushing paige’s collarbone. “no.”
“baby.”
“mm-mm. stay like this.”
“azzi.”
“i am getting ready for bed. i’m cuddling you like always.”
paige laughs, quiet and crooked, tipping her head down so their foreheads touch. “you’re not even changed.”
“don’t care. don’t need to, just take my clothes off.”
“you literally said your face feels gross like thirty minutes ago.”
azzi grumbles into her neck. “you said you love me even when i’m gross.”
“true,” paige says, stretching her arm across azzi’s back and running her fingers up and down lazily. “but you’ll be annoyed tomorrow if you fall asleep with mascara on.”
azzi lets out a long sigh, dramatic and pitiful. “can’t move. limbs don’t work. too comfy in love.”
“tragic.”
“so tragic.”
paige waits a beat. then she shifts slightly, only to have azzi instantly latch on tighter like a koala.
“you’re so clingy,” she teases, not even trying to hide the grin in her voice.
“you like it.”
“unfortunately.”
azzi leans back just enough to look up at her, eyes bleary but still sparkling. “do it for me?”
paige blinks. “do what for you?”
“everything. my night stuff. i’ll make up for it. but you have to do it.”
“…you want me to brush your teeth?”
azzi nods, dead serious. “and wash my face. and moisturizer. and lip balm.”
“you are such a baby.”
“your baby.”
and god help her, she is. so paige rolls her eyes and lifts azzi gently off her chest. azzi immediately slumps into her side, clinging to her waist now instead. she shuffles along as paige drags them both to the bathroom, half-dragging her like she’s an extra limb.
azzi sits on the bathroom counter, legs bare and swinging gently like a little kid, except her body leans forward into paige like she can’t stand even a breath of space. her arms are slung loosely around paige’s neck, not pulling, just resting there, content and warm and sleepy. her cheek is tucked against paige’s shoulder, the curve of her nose brushing the collar of paige’s oversized hoodie.
“okay,” paige whispers, nudging her gently upright. “tilt your chin up for me.”
azzi obeys without a word, eyes fluttering open just long enough to find paige’s face again, then closing as paige pumps a dollop of cleanser into her palm. she warms it between her fingers first—because azzi always winces at cold—and then begins to work it across her face in slow, even circles.
it’s soft. reverent, almost. like paige is painting something she wants to remember. her fingertips glide along azzi’s cheekbones, down the bridge of her nose, across her forehead, always gentle, always steady. azzi hums low in her throat and leans into the touch, her knees bumping against paige’s hips.
“feels nice,” she mumbles.
“yeah?” paige says, her voice quiet, her smile even quieter.
she rinses azzi’s face with a damp cloth, careful not to let it drip, and then grabs the towel azzi loves—the one that’s extra fluffy and smells like the lavender detergent paige sneakily switched to because she knew azzi liked it better. she dabs her dry. no rubbing. just little pats, one after another, from chin to forehead, slow and unhurried.
azzi peeks one eye open. “you’re really good at this.”
“i do it for myself all the time.”
“do it for me forever.”
paige grins. “you’re such a baby.”
“your baby,” azzi says, like it’s the truest thing she knows.
moisturizer next. paige unscrews the lid and dips in two fingers, then dots azzi’s face like she’s connecting constellations. a star on each cheek, one on her forehead, one on the tip of her nose. azzi giggles, sleepy and sweet.
“stop,” she says, but she’s smiling.
“can’t. your face is too cute.”
paige rubs it in with gentle, circular strokes, massaging it into azzi’s skin until it’s soft and glowy and smells faintly like almonds. azzi’s eyes slip shut again. she leans into every touch like a flower turning to the sun.
then comes the toothbrush.
“open up, baby,” paige teases, loading the toothbrush with just the right amount of minty paste.
“you’re literally brushing my teeth,” azzi groans, blushing a little.
“you asked me to,” paige says smugly, and azzi pouts until the bristles hit her teeth and she starts giggling.
it’s awkward and hilarious and somehow still tender—paige holding the toothbrush, azzi laughing around it, toothpaste foam threatening to spill as she mumbles nonsense. she leans forward again, resting her forehead against paige’s shoulder while paige keeps brushing like it’s no big deal.
“spit,” paige orders, laughing.
azzi does, still smiling, and wipes her mouth with the corner of paige’s sleeve.
“gross,” paige mutters, but she’s grinning.
finally: the lip balm. the stupid watermelon one azzi always forgets to use, the one with the little cartoon fruit on the lid.
paige unscrews it and holds it up. “last step.”
azzi tilts her face up, eyes closed, lips parted obediently. paige swipes the balm across her bottom lip, then the top, then leans in and kisses it in—slow, soft, stupidly tender.
“there,” she whispers. “perfect.”
azzi opens her eyes, dazed and dreamy. “i love you.”
paige brushes a thumb across her cheekbone. “i know.”
and she does. every freckle. every sleepy murmur. every breath of trust in her hands.
“spoiled,” paige whispers as she caps the balm and presses a kiss to azzi’s nose.
“yeah,” azzi breathes, eyes soft and full of something warmer than sleep. “spoiled by you.”
they don’t even make it to bed properly. they collapse into it sideways, wrapped in each other like it’s instinct. azzi hooks a leg over paige’s hips and sighs into her collarbone.
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The door to Paige's apartment barely closed before Azzi found herself pressed against it, Paige's mouth hot and demanding against her neck.
Azzi sat in her car outside Paige's apartment building for ten minutes before she could bring herself to move.
Her hands gripped the steering wheel, knuckles white, as guilt and desire waged their familiar war inside her chest. She'd told Andrew she was going to Target – needed to exchange some of the kids' gifts, pick up a few things they'd forgotten. He'd kissed her cheek, told her to drive safe, asked if she could grab more coffee while she was out. The ease of his trust made her stomach twist.
But then she thought of Paige. Of the way Paige had looked at her across the Christmas dinner table, blue eyes dark with barely restrained jealousy every time Andrew touched her. Of the text that had come through an hour ago
P 💗: I need you. Now.
Azzi had made her excuses and left within fifteen minutes.
She finally forced herself out of the car, heart pounding as she rode the elevator up to the third floor. By the time she reached Paige's door, her hands were shaking. She knocked twice, then once – their signal – and the door swung open almost immediately.
Paige's eyes were stormy, her jaw tight. She grabbed Azzi's wrist and pulled her inside.
"Do you have any idea," Paige growled, her hands already working at the buttons of Azzi's blouse. "How fucking hard it was to watch you play house with him all day?"
Azzi's breath hitched as Paige's teeth grazed her pulse point. "Paige –"
"Watching you smile at him. Laugh at his jokes. Let him touch you." Paige's voice was rough with barely contained emotion, each word punctuated with another button coming undone. "Watching him kiss you in the kitchen when he thought no one was looking. Watching him put his arm around you on the couch like he has any right to you. Watching you sit there with Frankie on your lap and the twins climbing all over both of you, playing perfect little family while I had to sit across the room and pretend my heart wasn't being ripped out of my chest."
"Baby, I'm sorry –" Azzi started, but Paige cut her off.
"Do you know what the worst part was?" Paige pulled back just enough to look Azzi in the eyes, her own glistening with unshed tears of frustration. "Listening to the kids call you 'Mommy' and him 'Daddy' like you're this unit. Like you belong together. When I know, I know, that you come to me every chance you get. That you moan my name when you come. That it's my touch you crave."
Azzi's blouse fell open, and Paige's hands immediately went to her waist, fingers digging into soft skin as she pulled Azzi flush against her. "I need you to remember who you belong to," Paige murmured, her voice dropping lower, more dangerous. "Need to feel you. Need to hear you say it."
"Yours," Azzi breathed, already losing herself in the heat of Paige's touch. "I'm yours, Paige. Always yours."
Paige's hands slid up Azzi's sides, pushing the blouse off her shoulders and letting it fall to the floor. Her fingers found the clasp of Azzi's bra, unhooking it with practiced ease. When the lace fell away, Paige's breath caught.
"God, you're so beautiful," she whispered, her earlier anger melting into something softer, more reverent. Her hands cupped Azzi's breasts, thumbs brushing over sensitive nipples. "So fucking perfect."
Azzi arched into the touch, her own hands fumbling with the hem of Paige's shirt. "Off," she demanded breathlessly. "Need to see you. Need to touch you."
Paige stepped back just enough to pull her shirt over her head, revealing toned abs and strong shoulders that made Azzi's mouth water. She wasn't wearing a bra, and Azzi couldn't help the small moan that escaped her lips at the sight.
They stumbled down the hallway together, a tangle of desperate hands and hungry mouths. Paige's fingers worked at the button of Azzi's jeans, popping it open and dragging the zipper down with agonizing slowness. Azzi kicked off her shoes, then shimmied out of the denim, leaving her in just her panties – lilac lace that Paige had bought her months ago.
"You wore these for me," Paige said, her voice thick with desire as her fingers traced the delicate fabric. "Even knowing you'd be sitting next to him all day. Even knowing he might see them."
"I always wear what you buy me," Azzi confessed, her cheeks flushing. "I think about you every time I get dressed. Every time I feel the lace against my skin."
Paige groaned, capturing Azzi's mouth in a searing kiss as they finally reached the bedroom. She pulled back from their kiss, taking a step away from the wo9man she loved, smirking at the way Azzi’s eyes glazed over.
"You like what you see, baby?" Paige asked, a hint of smugness creeping into her voice despite the emotion still swimming in her eyes.
"You know I do," Azzi said, reaching out to trace the defined lines of Paige's stomach. "You're so strong. So gorgeous. I love your body."
Paige caught Azzi's hand, bringing it to her lips to kiss her palm before guiding it lower, pressing it against the front of her jeans. "Feel what you do to me," she murmured. "Feel how much I need you."
Azzi could feel the heat even through the denim, and it made her core clench with want. Her fingers worked at Paige's button and zipper, desperate to eliminate every barrier between them. Paige helped, shoving her jeans down her long legs and kicking them aside.
They came together again, skin against skin, and the contact made them both gasp. Paige walked Azzi backward toward the bed, their mouths meeting in a deep, claiming kiss. Azzi's hands roamed over Paige's back, her shoulders, memorizing every plane and curve.
When they reached the bed, Paige's eyes raked over her body with an intensity that made Azzi shiver. She just stood there, drinking in the sight of Azzi spread out before her – dark hair fanned across the pillows, chest heaving, skin flushed with arousal. Her eyes traced every curve, every dip and swell of Azzi's body.
"You're a fucking masterpiece," Paige breathed, her hands going to the button of her own jeans. "Look at you. These hips." Her eyes lingered on the curve of Azzi's waist. "These thighs. And your tits, baby. Fuck. They're perfect. You're perfect."
Azzi squirmed under the intensity of Paige's gaze, heat pooling between her legs. "Paige, please. I need you."
"I know baby. I’ll give you what you need," Paige said, standing before Azzi in just her boxer briefs. She moved to her nightstand, pulling open the drawer with deliberate slowness. When she turned back, she was holding the harness and the dildo, the special one, the one that was noticeably bigger than what Azzi was used to.
Azzi's eyes widened, her breath catching in her throat. "That one?"
"Yeah, baby. This one." Paige held it up, letting Azzi see the size of it, the realistic texture. "You remember how full this makes you feel? How deep it goes?"
Azzi nodded, unable to form words. She watched, transfixed, as Paige stepped into the harness, pulling it up her long legs and settling it against her hips. The muscles in her thighs flexed as she adjusted the straps, tightening them with practiced efficiency. She attached the dildo with a soft click, and Azzi felt a fresh rush of wetness between her thighs at the sight of Paige standing there, powerful and commanding, the thick silicone jutting from her hips.
"This is bigger than him, isn't it?" Paige asked, her voice low and dangerous as she moved toward the bed. "Tell me, Azzi. Tell me how much bigger I am."
Azzi's mouth went dry. "So much bigger," she whispered. "You fill me up in ways he never could. You reach places he doesn't even know exist."
Paige's eyes darkened with possessive satisfaction. "That's right. Because this body?" She climbed onto the bed, settling between Azzi's thighs. "This pussy? It was made for me. Not him. Me."
"Yes," Azzi breathed, reaching up to pull Paige down into a kiss. "Only you, Paige. It's only ever been you."
"I want to mark you," Paige said, her voice rough with desire. "Want to leave bruises where only I'll see them. Where he'll never look." Her hands slid up the inside of Azzi's thighs, spreading them apart. "Here," she murmured, pressing her thumb against the sensitive skin. "And here." Her mouth followed, sucking hard enough to leave a mark.
Azzi whimpered, her hips lifting off the bed. "Yes, please. Mark me. Make me yours."
Paige worked her way up Azzi's inner thighs, leaving a trail of marks that would bloom into purple bruises by morning. Each one sent a fresh wave of arousal through Azzi's body, the possessiveness of the act making her dizzy with want.
Paige reached for the small remote on the nightstand, clicking it once. The toy hummed to life, vibrating gently, and Azzi could see the moment the vibrations reached Paige too, the way her breath hitched slightly.
"And this one," Paige continued, clicking another button, "warms up, remember? Gets hot inside you. So you know I'm really inside you, really claiming you."
Azzi's hips lifted involuntarily at the thought. "Please," she whimpered. "Please, Paige. I need it. Need you."
Paige climbed onto the bed, settling between Azzi's spread thighs. The head of the toy pressed against Azzi's entrance, and they both groaned at the contact. "Not yet," Paige said, her voice strained with her own need. "First, you're going to warm my dick. Going to sit here with me inside you and remember who owns this body. Who this pussy belongs to."
"You know what I need tonight?" Paige asked, climbing onto the bed and settling between Azzi's spread thighs. She ran her hands up Azzi's legs, her touch possessive. "I need to feel you wrapped around me. Need to be inside what's mine."
"I am yours," Azzi breathed, reaching for her.
Paige caught her wrists, pinning them gently above her head. "I know you are, baby. And I'm going to make sure you remember it too." She leaned down, kissing Azzi deeply before trailing her lips down her neck, between her breasts, across her stomach. "Every time he touches you, I want you thinking about this. About me. About who really owns this body. Who this pussy belongs to."
"Paige, please," Azzi whimpered, her hips lifting again, still seeking friction.
"Please what?" Paige's fingers hooked into Azzi's panties, dragging them down her legs. "Tell me what you need. Tell me what you want me to do to my pussy."
"Need you inside me. Need to feel you."
Paige groaned at the desperation in Azzi's voice. She positioned herself, running the head of the warm, vibrating dildo through Azzi's wetness. "You're so fucking wet for me already. Does he ever get you this wet?"
"No," Azzi gasped. "Never. My pussy only gets this wet for you, Paige. Only ever you."
"That's my good girl." Paige pushed inside slowly, watching Azzi's face as she stretched around the considerable girth. "Fuck, you take me so well. So much better than you take him, don't you?"
Azzi could only moan in response, her back arching as Paige filled her completely. The warmth and vibration of the dildo sent sparks of pleasure through her entire body, and the stretch, God, the stretch was perfect, overwhelming, exactly what she needed.
"Answer me," Paige demanded, though her voice was strained with her own pleasure as the base of the dildo pressed and vibrated against her clit. "You take me better than him, don't you?"
"Yes!" Azzi cried out. "So much better. You're so much bigger, Paige. You fill me up so perfectly. He could never–"
"Never what?" Paige stilled completely, buried deep inside her.
"Never make me feel like this," Azzi finished, her eyes locked on Paige's. "Never make me feel complete."
Paige's expression softened for just a moment before the possessive hunger returned. "I'm not going to move yet," she said, settling her weight more fully against Azzi, her hips pressing forward until every inch was seated deep. "I'm going to stay right here, deep inside you, and my pussy is going to warm my dick while I tell you exactly what I want."
Azzi whimpered, her inner walls clenching involuntarily around the dildo. The constant warmth radiating from it felt like liquid heat spreading through her core, and the vibrations, low and steady, were already driving her crazy. She could feel every ridge, every inch of the thick silicone stretching her wider than she'd ever been stretched before. The fullness was almost too much, bordering on overwhelming, and Paige wasn't even moving yet.
"I want to get you pregnant," Paige said bluntly, her eyes boring into Azzi's with an intensity that stole her breath. "I want to fuck you so full of my cum that you have no choice but to leave him. I want everyone to know that the baby growing inside you is mine."
"Paige," Azzi moaned, her hips trying to move, seeking friction, relief, anything, but Paige held her still with strong hands on her hips.
"No, baby. Stay still. Keep me warm and listen to me." Paige's voice was commanding, but there was a tremor in it, emotion barely contained. "I think about it all the time. I think about your belly growing round with my baby. I think about your breasts getting fuller, your body changing because of what I put inside you."
The heat of the dildo seemed to intensify, or maybe it was just Azzi's body responding to Paige's words, her internal temperature rising with desire and impossible longing. The vibrations pulsed steadily against her most sensitive spots, and she had to fight to keep still, to not rock her hips and chase the orgasm already building low in her belly.
"I imagine watching you pregnant," Paige continued, her own breathing growing ragged as the base of the dildo vibrated against her clit. "Seeing you walk around with my baby inside you. Touching your belly and feeling our child kick. I want that so fucking bad, Azzi. I want to be the one who did that to you."
"I want that too," Azzi whispered, tears gathering in her eyes. The confession hurt almost as much as the pleasure building in her core. "God, Paige, I want to give you that. I want to give you everything."
"Tell me," Paige said, shifting slightly, the movement making them both gasp as the dildo pressed deeper, the warmth and vibration intensifying. "Tell me what you'd want. If we could, if this was real, what would you want?"
Azzi's mind spun, caught between the physical sensations overwhelming her body and the emotional weight of the conversation. She was so full, stretched so perfectly around Paige's strap, the heat of it making her feel like she was melting from the inside out. "I'd want–" she gasped, her walls fluttering around the dildo. "I'd want to give you a daughter. A little girl with your eyes and my hair. Your smile with my dimples."
Paige groaned, her hips pressing forward involuntarily. "Fuck, baby. What would we name her?"
"I don't know," Azzi breathed, her hands sliding up Paige's strong arms, feeling the muscles tense with the effort of staying still. "What would you want to name her?"
"Something strong," Paige said, her voice rough. "Something beautiful. Like you." She shifted again, just slightly, and Azzi cried out at the sensation. "I think about Frankie and the boys asking about a new baby. I think about telling them they're going to have a little sister or brother. I think about them being excited, about all of us being a family."
The image was so vivid, so painfully beautiful, that Azzi felt her heart crack open. "Paige, I–" Her voice broke and tears filled her eyes. "I wish I could give you that. I wish this was our life."
"I know, baby. I know." Paige's forehead dropped to rest against Azzi's, their breath mingling. "But right now, in this moment, you're mine. This pussy is mine. And I'm going to fuck you like I'm trying to put a baby in you, even if we both know I can't."
Azzi clenched hard around the dildo at those words, the vibrations and heat combining with the fullness to push her dangerously close to the edge. "Please," she whimpered. "Please, Paige. I need–"
"What do you need?" Paige asked, still not moving, keeping Azzi impaled on her dick.
"Need you to move. Need you to make me come. Need you to fuck me. Need to feel you claiming my pussy."
"You mean my pussy," Paige corrected, her voice dark with possession. "This isn't your pussy anymore, baby. It's mine. My shit. And I'll decide when it gets to come."
Azzi sobbed with need, her body trembling with the effort of staying still while every nerve ending screamed for movement, for friction, for release. The warmth of the dildo had spread through her entire lower body, and the constant vibration was maddening. She'd never felt so full, so owned, so completely at someone else's mercy.
"Say it," Paige demanded. "Tell me who this pussy belongs to."
"You," Azzi gasped. "It belongs to you, Paige. My pussy is yours. All of me is yours."
"And if I could get you pregnant?" Paige asked, finally – finally – starting to move in slow, shallow thrusts that had them both gasping. "If I could fill you up with my cum and watch your belly grow with my baby, would you let me?"
"Yes," Azzi cried, beyond caring about reality or impossibility or anything except the feeling of Paige inside her, claiming her, owning her. "Yes, I'd let you. I'd want you to. I'd want everyone to know this baby was yours."
"Fuck," Paige groaned, her control visibly fraying. "You're so perfect, baby. So fucking perfect. Taking my dick so well. Letting me fill up my pussy."
The possessive words, combined with the increasing pace of Paige's thrusts and the relentless heat and vibration of the dildo, pushed Azzi closer and closer to the edge. She was so full, fuller than she'd ever been, and every stroke hit spots inside her that made her see stars.
"Paige," she moaned, her nails digging into Paige's shoulders. "I'm getting close. I'm so close."
"I know, baby," Paige said, her own voice strained with pleasure. "I can feel you getting tighter around my dick. But you don't come until I say so. Understand?"
"I know we can't," Paige continued, her voice rough with emotion and desire. "I know it's not possible. But fuck, Azzi, I want it so bad. I want you to be mine in every way. I want to wake up with you every morning. I want to put my babies in you. I want the whole fucking world to know you belong to me. That this pussy belongs to me."
"I do belong to you," Azzi gasped, tears pricking at her eyes from the intensity of emotion and the overwhelming sensation of being so full while unable to move. "My heart belongs to you, Paige. My body belongs to you. All of me."
"Say it again," Paige demanded, finally starting to move in slow, deep strokes that had them both gasping.
"I'm yours," Azzi moaned. "I belong to you, Paige. Only you."
Paige's control snapped. She began thrusting harder, faster, the vibrations and warmth of the dildo driving them both toward the edge. "That's right, baby. You're mine. This pussy is mine. My shit. Every orgasm you have is mine."
"Yes, yes, yes," Azzi chanted, her nails digging into Paige's shoulders as pleasure built rapidly in her core. The combination of Paige's words, the fullness, the vibrations. It was too much and not enough all at once.
"You're so fucking beautiful like this," Paige groaned, her own pleasure building from the pressure and vibration against her clit. "Taking me so well. Being such a good girl for me. You're perfect, Azzi. So perfect. And this pussy? Fuck, this is my pussy. Mine."
The praise sent Azzi spiraling. "Paige, I'm going to–"
"You think I should let my pussy come?" Paige demanded, her voice rough with possession. "You think you deserve it?"
"Please," Azzi begged. "Please, Paige. I need it."
"Come for me," Paige commanded. "Come on my dick and tell me who you belong to. Tell me whose pussy this is."
Azzi's orgasm crashed over her like a wave. "Yours! I'm yours, Paige! I belong to you! It's your pussy!"
"Fuck, yes," Paige groaned, but she didn't stop moving, didn't let Azzi come down from her high. "That's one. I want more. I want you to come so many times you forget his name."
"Paige, it's too much," Azzi whimpered, oversensitive but unable to deny how good it felt.
"You can take it," Paige assured her, adjusting the angle so the dildo hit that perfect spot inside her with every thrust. "You're doing so well, baby. So fucking good for me. I love watching you fall apart like this."
Azzi's second orgasm built faster than the first, the constant stimulation keeping her right on the edge. Paige's words of praise mixed with possessive declarations had her head spinning.
"I wish I could really breed you," Paige panted, her movements becoming more erratic as her own orgasm approached. "Wish I could fill you up with my cum and watch your belly grow with my baby. Would you like that, Azzi? Would you like to carry my child?"
"Yes!" Azzi sobbed, beyond caring how impossible it was. "Would love it so bad, Paige. Want to be yours completely. Want everyone to know."
"You're going to come again," Paige told her, reaching between them to circle Azzi's clit with her thumb. "And this time, I'm coming with you."
The pressure built and built until Azzi was trembling, desperate, right on the precipice. "Paige, please," she begged, her voice breaking. "Please, I need to come. I need it so bad. Please let me come."
"You think I should let my pussy come again?" Paige demanded, slowing her thrusts just enough to keep Azzi teetering on the edge. "Ask me properly. Beg me to let my pussy come."
"Please, Paige," Azzi whimpered, tears of desperation gathering in her eyes. "Please let your pussy come. I'm yours. It's yours. Please, I need permission. Please let me come on your dick."
The added stimulation was exactly what Azzi needed. Her second orgasm hit her even harder than the first, her entire body shaking with the force of it. "I'm yours, Paige! I belong to you!"
Paige's own orgasm followed immediately, the vibrations and pressure finally pushing her over the edge. She buried herself deep inside Azzi, grinding against her as waves of pleasure washed over her. "Mine," she groaned. "All mine."
They stayed like that for a long moment, both trembling and gasping for breath. Paige held Azzi close, feeling the aftershocks ripple through her body, pressing soft kisses to her temple as they both came down from the high.
Slowly, carefully, Paige withdrew, her hands gentle as she steadied Azzi through the sensitivity. She turned off the vibrations and unclipped the harness, setting it aside before returning to Azzi with a warm washcloth she'd prepared earlier.
"Let me take care of you," Paige said softly, cleaning Azzi with gentle strokes, her touch reverent. Azzi's eyes fluttered closed at the tenderness, at how loved Paige always made her feel in these moments.
When she was done, Paige tossed the cloth aside and gathered Azzi into her arms, pulling the blanket over them both. They lay tangled together, skin to skin, heartbeats gradually slowing to match each other's rhythm.
"I love you," Paige whispered against Azzi's mouth, her fingers tracing patterns on Azzi's hip. "I love you so fucking much it scares me sometimes."
"I love you too," Azzi replied, her voice thick with emotion. "More than anything. More than I ever thought possible."
They kissed slowly, deeply, the urgency replaced by tenderness. But as they touched and tasted each other, the heat began building again. Paige's hand slid between Azzi's thighs, finding her still wet and sensitive.
They kissed slowly, deeply, the urgency replaced by tenderness. Paige's hands roamed Azzi's body with a different kind of hunger now, not desperate, but worshipful. She traced the curve of Azzi's waist, the swell of her breast, memorizing every inch of her.
"I hate that you have to leave," Paige admitted quietly, her forehead resting against Azzi's. "Every time you walk out that door, it gets harder."
Azzi's chest tightened. "I know. God, Paige, I know. It kills me too." Her voice cracked. "Sometimes I sit in my car for twenty minutes before I can make myself drive home. I just sit there thinking about coming back up here, staying with you."
"Why don't you?" Paige asked, though they both knew the answer. "Just stay. One night. Let him wonder where you are."
"The kids," Azzi whispered. "Frankie would notice. She's already asking why I'm gone so much." Tears pricked at her eyes. "I'm a terrible mother. A terrible person."
"Hey, no." Paige cupped Azzi's face, forcing her to meet her eyes. "You're an incredible mother. Those kids are lucky to have you. And you're not terrible. You're just – you're in an impossible situation."
"That I created," Azzi said bitterly.
"That we created," Paige corrected. "Together. And yeah, it's messy and complicated and probably wrong by every conventional standard. But Azzi," She pressed a kiss to Azzi's lips. "I can't regret this. I can't regret us."
"I don't either," Azzi admitted. "That's what makes it so hard. I should regret it. I should feel worse than I do. But when I'm with you, everything just feels right."
As they talked, their hands continued to wander, the conversation and touch intertwining. Paige's fingers traced down Azzi's spine, and Azzi's hand slid along Paige's thigh. The heat between them began building again, slower this time but no less intense.
"I think about the future sometimes," Paige said, her voice low as her hand moved to cup Azzi's breast, thumb brushing over her nipple. "About what it would be like if we didn't have to hide."
"What do you imagine?" Azzi asked, her breath hitching as Paige's touch sent sparks through her.
"Waking up next to you every morning. Not just stolen hours, but whole days. Whole lives." Paige's hand slid lower, between Azzi's thighs, finding her still wet and sensitive. "Taking you out to dinner. Holding your hand in public. Coming home to you."
Azzi moaned softly, her own hand moving to Paige's center, finding her just as ready. "That sounds perfect."
"One more," Paige murmured against Azzi's lips. "I need one more, baby. Need to feel my pussy come apart for me again."
"Only if you come apart with me," Azzi breathed, her fingers circling Paige's clit with practiced precision.
They touched each other with practiced ease, knowing exactly what the other needed. Their mouths met in messy, desperate kisses as they worked each other higher and higher. But this time was different – slower, more intimate, more emotional.
"You're so wet," Azzi moaned against Paige's lips. "So perfect. I love making you feel good. Love knowing I do this to you."
"You always make me feel good," Paige gasped, her hips rocking into Azzi's touch. "You're so good to me, baby. So fucking good. The best thing that's ever happened to me."
"You make me feel alive," Azzi confessed, her voice breaking with emotion even as pleasure built inside her. "Like I'm finally myself. Like I finally know who I'm supposed to be."
"You're supposed to be mine," Paige said, her fingers moving faster, more insistent. "You're supposed to be with me. We're supposed to be together."
They praised each other breathlessly as their orgasms built, their movements becoming more urgent. Azzi could feel Paige trembling against her, could feel her own body coiling tight with impending release. Their eyes locked, and in that moment, everything else fell away. The guilt, the complications, the impossibility of it all. There was only this, only them, only love.
"Together," Paige panted. "Come with me, Azzi. I love you. God, I love you so much."
"I love you," Azzi cried out as her orgasm crashed over her. "I love you, Paige. I love you."
They came together, their bodies shaking, their voices mingling as they called out their love for each other. It was overwhelming, all-consuming, the physical pleasure intertwined with emotional release. Tears streamed down both their faces as they held each other through it, as they whispered "I love you" over and over like a prayer, like a promise, like the only truth that mattered.
When they finally stilled, they stayed wrapped around each other, neither willing to let go. Paige pressed kisses to Azzi's tear-stained cheeks, tasting salt and love and everything they couldn't say out loud in the daylight.
"Stay a little longer," Paige whispered. "Just a little longer."
"Okay," Azzi agreed, burrowing closer. "A little longer."
They lay in the darkness, fingers intertwined, hearts beating in sync. Paige traced idle patterns on Azzi's skin as they talked in hushed voices about dreams that felt both impossible and inevitable.
"When Frankie graduates high school," Azzi said quietly, "that's thirteen more years. I could, I could leave then. The kids would be old enough to understand, or at least old enough that it wouldn't destroy them."
"Thirteen years," Paige repeated, and Azzi couldn't tell if she sounded hopeful or heartbroken.
"I know it's a long time–"
"I'd wait," Paige interrupted. "I'd wait forever for you if I had to. But Azzi, I don't want you to sacrifice thirteen years of happiness for some arbitrary timeline."
"It's not arbitrary. They're my children."
"I know. And I love that you love them so fiercely. It's one of the things I love most about you." Paige pressed a kiss to Azzi's forehead. "I just – I want you to be happy. Even if it's complicated. Even if it's messy."
"I am happy," Azzi said. "Right now, in this moment, I'm happy. That has to be enough."
But they both knew it wasn't. Not really. Still, they held each other in the darkness, stealing these precious hours, building a future in whispered words and desperate touches. It wasn't enough, but it was all they had. And for now, for tonight, it would have to do.
They were tangled together, sweaty and satisfied and completely in love. Paige pulled the blankets over them, keeping Azzi tucked securely against her chest.
"I hate that you have to go back to him," Paige admitted quietly, her fingers tracing patterns on Azzi's bare shoulder.
"I know," Azzi whispered. "I hate it too. But this, us, it's worth it. You're worth it."
"One day," Paige said, pressing a kiss to the top of Azzi's head, "one day you're going to be mine for real. Not just in secret. Not just stolen moments. Really mine."
"I'm already really yours," Azzi assured her, tilting her head up to meet Paige's eyes. "In every way that matters, I'm yours. And one day, the rest of the world will know it too."
They fell asleep like that, wrapped around each other, dreaming of a future where they didn't have to hide their love anymore.
a/n: Truthfully I have no idea what I'm doing, but I've had this idea for a while of doing a few pazzi x sabrina carpenter song inspired one shots so here we are, the first of a few hopefully unless it sucks.
Lemme know what you think.
wc: 2.7k+
warnings: fluff, sexual content, fingering
It’s a lazy Sunday afternoon with no team commitments or assignments due, which is Azzi’s favorite kind of day, but not because of the same reason as most others. For most college student-athletes, a day like this means elite levels of rotting — watching Netflix, ordering Doordash for every meal, and moving as little as possible until it’s time to peel yourself off the couch to crawl into bed.
Azzi enjoyed all of that, let’s not get it twisted. On the other hand, her long-time best friend and girlfriend always had different plans for days like today. Paige wanted to be productive. Whether it was catching up on household chores or doing a project she hadn’t had time to get to yet, she was bound to be responsible for at least part of it.
That did something to and for Azzi.
Maybe she’s just easy for her girl, but seeing her take care of the dishes in the sink or folding their shared laundry pile or even, god forbid, building a piece of furniture, all had the same effect. She felt it right between her legs every single time.
Azzi is curled up on the couch with a blanket and a book in hand. She’s been reading for a couple hours and now she’s on the verge of falling asleep when she hears the front door of her apartment open.
It’s Paige.
She hears her before she sees her.
“Hey, babe. I’ve got some ideas for dinner.” Paige calls out from the entryway.
“Oh yeah?” Azzi rubs her eyes awake, anticipating a conversation about which restaurant they’re going to order from.
“So first idea, Wing Stop.” Paige replies back as she comes into Azzi’s sight.
Azzi loses any train of thought. “Well hi there.” Azzi can’t help the big, playful smile that forms on her face.
“Like what you see?” Paige smiles back before giving her a wink. She leans back against the wall to give her girlfriend a chance to enjoy the view.
Azzi rolls her eyes and laughs at her smugness. “You’re so annoying.” But she isn’t going to deny that she does in fact like what she sees.
Paige is wearing a pair of green plaid pajama pants that’ve become a staple in her wardrobe. She’s not wearing a shirt, instead showing off her black Nike sports bra and the waistband of her boxers that are peaking just above her pants. Her hair is pulled back in a low messy ponytail.
“That didn’t answer my question.”
“You already know the answer, bighead,” she shoots back, but there’s little bite to it.
“Doesn’t mean I don’t wanna hear you say it.” Paige scoffs before a short laugh bursts out of her.
Azzi just shakes her head, ignoring Paige’s probe for compliments her ego doesn’t need. She gets up to stretch her body awake so she can greet Paige properly. She lets out a sigh of relief feeling her muscles and joints loosen after sitting for so long.
Paige is still pressed up against the wall when Azzi reaches her and she gives her a quick peck on the lips. Paige wraps her up in a big hug and squeezes her tight while she ministers a trail of kisses from her forehead to her temple to the final destination of her neck. Azzi’s pajama shorts barely cover her cheeks so Paige can’t help but run her hands down her back for a quick grab of her butt.
They exchange another short kiss and then Paige is pushing herself off the wall, heading toward the kitchen. She opens the fridge to grab a bottle of water and goes straight to Azzi’s bedroom without saying another word.
Azzi’s not really sure what Paige is up to so she follows closely behind. She watches Paige move throughout her room clearly looking for something specific.
“Uh – what are you doing, Paige?”
“Looking for something.”
“Clearly.” Azzi quips back with an eye roll. “I can help you if you give me a little more to work with.”
“No need. Found it.” she says in a singsongy tone.
Paige is pulling out a large IKEA box from the back of Azzi’s closet. It’s a shelf that Azzi’s been meaning to put together since the beginning of the semester. Obviously, she hasn’t gotten around to doing that yet.
“I’m gonna put this together for you, mama.” She gives Azzi a kiss on her cheek before moving back out into the living room.
Azzi is in trouble and she knows it. She can feel her center getting wet already and she involuntarily clenches down there watching Paige move back down the hall with her back and shoulder muscles flexed from carrying the box.
She’s put on some muscle. Azzi thinks to herself.
Paige sets the thin box down leaning it against the couch. She goes back into the entryway to grab the small tool bag where she keeps her drill, screwdrivers, and whatever else belongs in there. When she returns, she immediately starts working, opening the box and pulling all of the shelf pieces out.
Paige sits on one end of the couch, eyebrows scrunching in concentration as she reads the instructions to make sure she has all the parts.
Azzi doesn’t offer to help. All her friends would call her a princess, but it’s not her fault. She’s been conditioned to sit back and let her girlfriend do things like this for her. Paige wouldn’t have taken her up on it even if she had offered to help. How do they think she got to be a princess in the first place? She’s been getting this kind of treatment for years and she’s not complaining.
Instead, she’s curled herself back into the opposite corner of the couch with the blanket pulled over her legs like she’s watching her favorite show, which she is.
Paige has the drill out now. She’s standing now, hunched over meticulously putting a couple pieces of the base together. Azzi runs her eyes up and down Paige’s body, very much enjoying the view. Her abs are flexed slightly so she can see the line down the center of her stomach. Azzi thinks about how much she’d like to follow that trail with her tongue. Her eyes move to Paige’s bicep next. It’s bent from holding the shelf in place while she uses the drill to secure the pieces together. She can feel her internal body temperature rising quickly. And then, when Azzi’s eyes land on Paige’s hand on the drill, she has to hold back an audible groan by biting her lower lip.
Fuck.
She wants nothing more than Paige’s big, veiny hand on her and in her where she needs her most. Azzi has to squeeze her legs together to alleviate the ache she feels, but it does little to help. Her heart is pounding and she can feel how her pussy pulses in time with it. She tries to adjust herself again and the only thing she notices is how much slick is pooling in her pajama shorts and onto her thighs.
Of course Paige would be doing something so hot on a day when Azzi chooses not to wear any underwear.
Azzi reaches behind her neck to rub out some of the tension that’s building. She’s doing her best to ground herself — she’s far too gone though. She decides to pick her book back up to distract herself, but she is not processing anything she’s reading because she keeps looking back at Paige every five seconds.
After about twenty minutes, Paige flips the shelf upright and pushes down on each shelf to make sure it’s sturdy.
“There. All done.” She smiles at her handiwork, proud of herself for putting it together by herself in such a short amount of time. “I’m gonna go put it in your room, Az.”
Paige is on the move again before Azzi can even reply, oblivious to the kind of effect she has on her girlfriend in these scenarios.
Azzi sees the opportunity though. She stands to follow Paige, ignoring how she can feel her arousal run further down her thighs.
Azzi reaches her room just as Paige is placing the shelf in the open space for it right next to her desk. Coming up behind her, she runs her hands up and down her back, followed by wrapping her arms around her waist to pull her close.
She gives her a soft kiss on her neck from behind and whispers right in her ear, “Looks perfect, P. Thank you.” Her voice is soft and sultry. Paige knows that voice well. She leans back into Azzi’s touch, enjoying the shower of light kisses Azzi is giving her across her neck.
She responds with a “You’re welcome, princess.” And then Paige turns in Azzi’s arms to face her, pulling her in for a slow kiss. She’ll never get over how perfectly their lips seem to fit together.
The pace is easy at first, exchanging open mouthed kisses and simply enjoying the feeling of their bodies pressed against each other. Although Paige can sense Azzi’s urgency increasing, she continues to control the pace, moving her lips slowly because she likes making Azzi wait a little bit — it increases the likelihood that Azzi will beg for it and she loves that more than she’d care to admit.
But when Azzi bites Paige’s lower lip, pulling it slightly and then sucking it between her teeth for a brief moment, Paige loses any restraint she has left. The kiss intensifies, both tilting their heads to the side to make the angle better. Azzi has one arm circled around Paige’s waist. The other one is in the blonde’s hair, making her messy ponytail even messier as she pulls Paige in close like she isn’t already as possibly close as she could be.
Neither one of them is sure who initiates it, but their tongues are now pressing and moving against one another. Both breathing heavy and letting out little sighs and moans as they make out.
Paige’s hands drag down Azzi’s body until they reach their destination — Azzi’s ass. She grabs two handfuls of it, kneading and massaging the fat and muscle. Azzi whines in response and Paige lets out a quiet breathy fuck between kisses. She’ll never get tired of touching and feeling her like that, it makes her head spin in the best way possible.
Without giving much thought, Paige lifts Azzi up and feels her legs wrap around her waist like they’ve done countless times. As Paige makes her way towards Azzi’s bed, she can feel Azzi’s arousal on her stomach. She’s absolutely soaked. Paige is worked up too, but they haven’t been making out long enough for how wet she is down there, which means that she’s been like this for a while. They’re still kissing, but when they flop onto the bed, Paige hovering over her girlfriend, she gives her a knowing smirk.
“You been worked up for a bit, ma?”
Azzi can only nod in reply. She bites her lip waiting for Paige’s next move, she’s putty in her hands at this point, just ready to feel her where she needs her most.
Thankfully Paige isn’t restrained enough to make her use her words like she often does. Instead she just reaches for the waistband of Azzi’s shorts. When Azzi lifts to help her take them off, Paige pulls them the rest of the way.
She basically growls.
“Damn, baby. Not wearing anything underneath.”
Azzi’s leg spread a little wider for her to get a good view and Paige just takes it all in. She’s absolutely dripping, pussy glistening in the natural light, arousal all over her folds. She sees how the slick is well past her center, trailing a few inches down on both thighs.
“You like watching me build shit for you, huh?”
Azzi’s hip buck up remembering what got her like this in the first place. “God, yes P. You know how much I like it when you take care of me.”
“What’s that line in from that one song…? Tears run down —”
Paige is cut off by Azzi whining. “Paige, please, can we not right now.”
She just laughs in response, deciding not to make her wait any longer. “I’m gonna take care of you right now, babygirl.”
Desperately she says “Yes, please… please — fuck,” knowing just how much Paige likes it when she begs. It’s a selfish endeavor, hoping it’ll make her move faster.
It works because Azzi feels two of Paige’s long fingers run through her folds. She does it slower than she’d like, but she’s not about to complain. Paige runs it up and down her folds, gathering as much slick as she can near her entrance.
They’re still face to face, Paige hovering over her, so when she brings her hand up to lick her fingers clean, Azzi can see just how wet she really is. She lets out a breathy laugh. “You should build shit more often.”
Paige sucks her fingers clean, groaning at Azzi’s taste, and nodding at Azzi’s request with a smile on her face. She brings her fingers back to Azzi’s center and doesn’t hesitate. She pushes both fingers inside in one quick thrust.
Azzi shuts her eyes from the pleasure, crying out a fuck yes as her hips naturally jolt forward to meet Paige’s hand. Paige starts a steady rhythm, letting her fingers pump in and out, moving with ease from how wet Azzi is.
She just watches her fingers disappear and reappear for a bit, watching how the slick starts to cover her palm. There’s something about seeing Azzi so turned on by such a simple task that makes her feel wanted, desired, loved.
All these thoughts swirling in her head make her move her hand faster. Paige isn’t just using her hand muscles to push into her, she’s using her whole arm to thrust with a bit more force, but with the way Azzi is moving to meet her, it doesn’t feel like enough.
So she adjusts herself on the bed, still on top of Azzi, but she lets her body rest on top of her now so they’re fully pressed up against one another. And once she’s in the right position, she starts to use her own hips to grind into Azzi while her own hand is still between them.
This gets the desired response, as Azzi claws at Paige’s back.
“Oh, fuck. Yeah — keep doing that.” Azzi cries out between moans.
So Paige keeps going. She snaps her hips into Azzi in time with her fingers working in and out of her. She curls her fingers up to touch her as deep as she can go every time she’s fully inside. It’s a rhythm that has Azzi whining those high pitched moans letting them both know she’s getting close.
And like always, Paige can’t help herself from praising her girl.
“You’re so perfect, Az. So wet for me.”
“Sound so pretty, baby — keep letting me know how good it feels.”
“Pussy so tight.”
The pressure continues to build with every thrust, every squeak from the bedframe, every sigh of pleasure.
Despite Paige still being fully clothed, the movement is working her up as well. She starts groaning with every thrust, moving her hips in a way that catches her own clit in just the right way. Recognizing how good that feels, she keeps going regardless of how much her own wrist aches at the angle and pressure she’s putting on it.
“P, I’m close.”
“I gotchu.” Paige starts grinding the heel of her hand into Azzi’s clit while she continues to pump in and out of her.
“Fuck — yes, yes, yes…” Azzi continues to cry out as she reaches her climax. When her legs shake, closing and squeezing around Paige’s hips, her head falls back with a blissful smile across her face. Paige doesn’t remove her hand just yet, letting her fingers rest inside Azzi as her pussy continues to clench around them in pulses, knowing that she’s not ready to feel empty just yet.
“Fuck, P. That was amazing. Thank you”
“You’re welcome, baby.”
Azzi reaches out for Paige to give her a kiss. It’s slow and messy, and it deepens quickly. Paige starts to move her fingers again, out of habit more than anything. Azzi reaches down to stop her though, pulling Paige’s fingers out of herself. She hates the initial emptiness, but the thought of returning the favor is too strong to stop her.
“It’s your turn now.”
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