#azzi

Now who u lookin at Paige

I got this clip from pbuckets67 on TikTok

wnba!Paige x wnba!Azzi

Masterlist

Themes: exes-to-lovers, ANGST, toxic exes

Warnings: language, suggestive content, cheating, hella arguing, alcohol, weed

Synopsis: Following the aftermath of her altercation with Zoey, Paige fights for her life as she endures a lovely night out with her teammates.

A/N: Again, don't mean to hype this chapter up too much, but it is hands down my favorite so far. This one is a little shorter than usual, but I feel like that's okay because there's just a lot going on. Also, it's just Paige's pov w no flashback, but Chapter 5 will open with Azzi's pov. If you live react, I'll try to get something else out by Christmas. Okay that's all, enjoyyyyy

Word count: 9.7k

Present Day - June 2029 Dallas, Texas

Paige

Paige Bueckers didn’t fuck up. Not on the court. Not off the court. It was kind of her brand. But this… as far as Paige was concerned, this was the most fucked way of fucking up she could ever fucking think of.

It slipped. Azzi’s name. Her guard. Any sense of control she had over this situation. Something just took over. Something ancient and buried and branded on the inside of her brain.

Paige knew that Azzi’s name hadn’t come from nowhere. It sat in her mind. It glazed every thought. It existed somewhere under the discipline and distance and half-hearted decisions to move on. It was waiting for a weak moment. And it found one. Because Paige was tired.

Tired of keeping her composure. Tired of every decision feeling like the wrong one. Tired of having to keep her guard up around the one person she never learned to do that with. 

The crazy part was that she wasn’t even thinking about Azzi. Not unless you count her dimples. Or the feeling of her fingertips on the back of Paige’s neck. Or the way she looked when her eyelids got heavy, and the world shrank down to just the two of them. 

Fuck, Paige thought.

Zoey was still on Paige’s lap. Still processing. Still with a hand in the air as if she were trying to decide whether to hit Paige again or start crying.

Paige was still disoriented. Partly because she had just been slapped. Partly because she wasn’t 100% sure that this was real life. 

Zoey, with a shaky breath and glossy eyes, broke the silence first. “Say that wasn’t what I think it was. Say you didn’t just… while I was… you’ve gotta be fucking kidding me,” she said before finally climbing off.

“Zoey, babe,” Paige said, standing up. “I didn’t mean—”

“You didn’t mean to? That’s worse, Paige. The fact that you didn’t mean it–that’s worse. Like she doesn’t even have to try. Like you don’t even have to try.” 

That was true. Paige didn’t have to try. She never had to try when it came to Azzi. If anyone knew that, it was her. She wished it were different. 

Zoey paced around the room as if she would find comfort in the corners of Paige’s apartment. She wouldn’t. “Were you thinking about her?” Zoey asked, tears starting to well in her eyes.

Paige looked like she had seen a ghost. In some ways, she had. That’s why her face was so pale, her eyes were so wide, and she could hardly form a coherent sentence over the lump in her throat. “No. No, I wasn’t thinking about her,” she insisted. Lie #1. 

“I’m not stupid, Paige. I was patient. I was understanding. I just sat through watching you dodging questions about her, you making eyes at her, and now I have to listen to you say her name while I’m—” She stopped herself, the rest of it catching in her throat. “You love her, don’t you?”

Paige’s heart hammered in her chest. She could feel the truth burning behind her ribs, begging to be said, begging to be freed. But she swallowed it back down until it scorched her tongue. “No,” she said softly. Lie #2.

“You gonna leave me for her now? Is that what you’re gonna do?” Zoey asked, tears still streaming. 

Paige swallowed. “No.”  And that one… Paige wanted to say it wasn’t a lie, but it felt like the kind of truth an alcoholic gives when they say they’re gonna put down the bottle. Fragile. Precarious.

Zoey tugged on the roots of her hair like she was trying to pull out the whole memory. “You’re fucking unbelievable,” she said, still pacing. 

Paige couldn’t do anything but stare at the floor. 

“You know what?” Zoey said, wiping her tears with her fingers, walking toward the bedroom. “I’m not gonna let you ruin my night.”

Paige rushed to follow behind her. “What are you doing?” she asked meekly.

“I’m getting ready,” she said, placing her makeup bag on Paige’s vanity. “I was promised a good time, and your teammates are waiting.”

Paige nodded and sauntered to the bathroom to get ready herself. She closed the door behind her, figuring that Zoey would appreciate the privacy. She leaned over the sink to examine the red mark on her face. She pressed on it with two fingers and winced. It was probably going to bruise. 

In Paige’s whole life, she had never been slapped. Not purposely. Not seriously. It was like an out-of-body experience. 

Part of her wanted to be angry. She wanted to yell and scream and kick Zoey out and tell her to never come back. But that wasn’t fair. Because Paige was in the wrong here. She knew that. She knew that this was the manifestation of everything she’d been running from. She knew that it was going to get her one way or another. She knew she needed to get a handle on it before someone got hurt. Maybe she was already too late.

After thirty minutes of getting ready with an aggressive sort of silence between them, Paige and Zoey crawled into an Uber. Paige sat with her legs folded as she stared out of the window. Zoey sat as far away as she possibly could. 

“Is she going to be there?” Zoey asked from the other end of the back seat. 

Without turning away from the window, Paige nodded.

Zoey scoffed. “I miss when you were honest and unashamed about your feelings.”

Paige looked at her then. “I still am.” Lie, lie, lie. 

Zoey paused for a moment. Her eyes flicked all over Paige’s face like she was trying to read her. “I wish I could believe you.”

Paige turned back to the window. There was no point in defending herself. She might’ve made it worse. Might’ve said the wrong thing. Might’ve let her brain, who obviously couldn’t be trusted, speak too freely.

She watched as the city flashed by. She watched all of the people and thought about the fact that none of them would ever have to play on the same professional sports team as the love of their life. No, Paige thought. Azzi isn’t the love of my life. Not anymore. She can’t be.

It wasn’t like she was emotionally unstable. It was just that Paige Bueckers, a person who always had her shit together, suddenly couldn’t figure out how to be normal. Even worse, she knew what the problem was. There was just nothing she could do about it. No matter how much she bargained with her conscience.

She could’ve barged into Curt’s office and demanded that he trade Azzi. Demanded that he trade her. But that all felt very drastic when she really thought about it. It would be easy if Azzi wasn’t the most perfect basketball player, but there was no way around the fact that she had earned her spot in Dallas. Probably more than Paige had. And Paige would never take that away. Even if it meant subjecting herself to the torture of being around Azzi and not having her. 

Paige knew she could have Azzi. If she weren’t in a relationship. If she weren’t still running from all of the things that ruined them the first time. If she weren’t supposed to maintain the perfect image.

The thought of leaving Zoey for Azzi crossed her mind much more than she could ever admit. But what was she supposed to do? Break Zoey’s heart after lying to her face? Run straight into Azzi’s open arms because Zoey didn’t measure up? Paige Bueckers was many things, but never cruel.

Her mind ran laps around itself, chasing a logic that didn’t exist. Zoey was perfect. Gorgeous, ambitious, patient, kind, passionate. But she wasn’t Azzi.

Still, she didn’t deserve any of this. She didn’t deserve to be collateral. Paige didn’t even know who she was trying to protect anymore, Zoey or herself. Paige considered that the best thing to do might’ve been to cut her loose just to protect her, but that felt selfish. Unfair. Almost as unfair as saying Azzi’s name while Zoey was halfway down her pants.

“Hey,” Zoey snapped.

Paige whipped her head in her direction. She hadn’t even realized the car had stopped. Zoey was halfway out of the car. Paige scrambled out after her.

As soon as she stepped onto the sidewalk, Zoey grabbed her hand like the last two hours didn’t just happen. Paige looked down at their intertwined fingers, then sideways at Zoey.

“I told you that I was promised a good time tonight. Let’s start there,” Zoey whispered in her ear with a smile. Though her tone didn’t sound very forgiving. 

They didn’t speak the whole elevator ride up to the club. Paige watched in the metallic reflection as Zoey adjusted her expression. Prepared the perfect smile for the perfect performance. Paige wanted to barf.

As soon as the elevator doors slid open, Paige knew it was going to be a long night. The bass from the speakers made it feel like her heart was pounding the inside of her ribcage even harder. If that was even possible. 

Like it was her natural habitat, Zoey grabbed Paige’s hand and pulled her forward past the long line of people wrapped around the waiting area. People called their names, asking for autographs and pictures. Zoey waved them off politely and kept moving past security. Paige followed. Not necessarily because she wanted to. 

“Aye, my point guard here!”

Paige turned her head. Dijonai was already moving toward her, drink in her hand. KK followed closely behind.

Paige smiled. A real one. She was happy to see them. 

“Zoey, you look gorgeous,” Nai said, wrapping Paige and Zoey in a hug. “Blondie over here better watch out before I steal her girl.”

Take her, Paige thought. The thought caught her off guard and was quickly followed by a wave of guilt. 

Paige liked Zoey. Maybe even loved her, in some version of the word. Although one of the main issues with having your one great love so early in life is that everything else pales in comparison. It all feels familiar but hollow. 

Zoey held Paige by the arm as she thanked Dijonai for the compliment. “It’s so good to see you guys. I’m gonna go get a drink from the bar,” she said, already breaking away from the group, leaving Paige standing near the entrance with Dijonai and KK.

“Girl, you're not gonna believe what Lyss did earlier…” Nai launched into a long story that Paige didn’t really have the bandwidth to pay any attention to. 

Paige nodded, half-listening, half-scanning the room. The crowd, the drinks, the lights. She told herself she was just getting the lay of the land, but really, she was looking for Azzi. She always was. She couldn’t help it.

Dijonai didn’t seem to notice. “...so, obviously, I was pissed. And then Lyss had the audacity–”

“Where is she?” Paige blurted, not paying much attention to the fact that she just interrupted Nai’s story.

Dijonai stopped mid-sentence and furrowed her brows. “Lyss?”

KK chimed in, knowing Paige was talking about Azzi. She knew that Paige was always talking about Azzi. “She’s over there,” she said, jerking her chin toward the corner.  

Paige followed her gesture, and everything else in the room went blurry. Azzi was sitting in the middle of a corner booth, surrounded by their teammates, head thrown back mid-laugh. Paige remembered how much she used to want to hear that laugh all the time. How hard she once worked to earn it. 

Azzi looked good. So good that it wasn’t fair. Curls spilling over her face, gold hoops catching in the light, that magnetic glow she always seemed to have without trying. 

Paige swallowed. Her heart wasn’t pounding anymore. It was aching. Yearning. I’ll never be free from this, she thought.

“Am I missing something?” Dijonai asked, eyes flicking between Paige and the booth.

KK laughed. “Just her drooling over the same girl she's been after since she was 15.”

Paige hit her in the arm a little harder than she meant to. KK hit her back.

“Woah, you talking about Azzi?” Dijonai asked.

Paige shot KK a glare. “No. She thinks she’s funny,” she said with no irony in her voice.

Dijonai shook her head. “Whatever this is, I don’t want nothing to do with it. But I’m nosey, so y’all gotta fill me in.”

Paige shot her a look that said, Don’t press.

KK laughed again. “C’mon, let’s go over there before you break your neck staring.” She led the way through the crowd, across the club to the team’s table. 

KK pushed past a couple of bottle girls and slid into the booth first, making room. Paige sank into the seat beside her, directly under the warm overhead lights. The ones Paige had already decided she hated.

The rest of the table erupted into greetings. “Paige!” “Look who finally showed up!” “Where’s Zoey?”

Paige forced a smile, nodded along, tossed out a few easy hellos. She was used to slipping into the role. The reliable one. The composed one. The one who never let her face crack.

But the light above the table was bright, unforgiving. Dijonai cocked her head like she just noticed something. “What the fuck happen to your face?” she asked loud enough for the rest of the group to hear and look for themselves.

Paige almost flinched at the question. Luckily, she had already thought of what she would say if people asked about it. “Uh, nothing, I just caught a stray during the game. Dumbass refs,” she said as naturally as she could manage as she looked down at the drink in front of her to avoid everyone’s gaze. To avoid Azzi’s gaze.

Paige didn’t enjoy lying to her friends. It was just… none of their business. And embarrassing. Plus, if she told them that Zoey slapped her, there would be several follow-up questions like What did you do? And then, Paige would have to tell everyone, including Azzi, that she can’t get Azzi out of her head to save her life. For many, many reasons, that would be bad. So she lied.

“Really? When was that?” Cam chimed in. “It looks pretty bad. I feel like we would’ve seen that.”

“Right?” Dijonai agreed. “With your dramatic ass, we shoulda heard about it from the second it happened, all the way to the locker room.” She cackled at her own joke.

Paige shrugged, drink in hand. “I’m tryna calm down. Management said I need to work on discipline or whatever.”

“Ohhh, okay. I was about to ask if Zoey finally clocked your shit,” Dijonai said, unaware that she was right on the nose. That one got the whole table to laugh.

Paige laughed too. Well, tried. It came out a little off, but she hoped it was believable enough for them. She did a quick glance around the table. Everyone looked too amused to be suspicious. Except Azzi, who was only half laughing. The kind she did when she didn’t find something funny at all. 

And then their eyes met, and suddenly, Paige felt a little too seen. A little too raw. She knew Azzi knew better. She knew Azzi would always read her better than she could read herself. Paige watched as a look of confusion flashed through Azzi’s eyes, followed quickly by realization, then anger.

Paige once thought that Azzi was the smartest person in the world. Of course, she’d put two and two together that Paige didn’t have this mysterious bruise two hours ago when she drove Azzi home. Of course, she remembered how quiet and awkward Paige got when she was hiding something. When she was ashamed of something. 

Paige knew that no version of Azzi Fudd wouldn’t raise hell over this. Someone hitting Paige. Someone hitting her girl. 

So, she looked away quick and cleared her throat. “I’m gonna go find Zoey,” she said, excusing herself from the table. If Azzi was the one who got her into this, she would definitely not be the solution. 

She found Zoey by the bar, talking to some faces Paige had definitely seen before but couldn’t quite place. She walked up just as the group started to disperse. Zoey turned toward her with a look that didn’t exactly say she was happy to see her.

“Hey,” Paige said gently, testing the water, coming to a stop close to Zoey.

Zoey offered some sort of half smile. “Having fun?” she asked without sounding like she actually cared.

Paige shrugged. “They got a table in the back, but I missed you.”

Zoey stared for a moment. Looking Paige over like she was trying to decide what to do with her. “I’m still mad,” she said after a while.

“Well, let me make it up to you,” Paige said.

Zoey sighed like she was just tired of it all. “As nice as that sounds,” she said sarcastically. “I think I’m gonna dip. Those guys said something about a hotel party down the block.”

Paige leaned forward just a little bit. “Okay, I’ll come with you.”

Zoey tilted her head with a smile. The kind that said she was enjoying toying with Paige. “Honey, you’re not invited.”

“What?” Paige said, taken aback.

Zoey crossed her arms and shrugged. “I told you I’m still mad. Go have fun with your teammates.” She paused, leaning in a little, tone dropping. “I know how much you love them.” Then, she walked away, leaving Paige alone for the night. On the wrong night.

For a second, Paige stood still. She didn’t know what to do. She didn’t know how to fix things with Zoey. She didn’t know how to get a handle on her feelings for Azzi. But she knew she needed to do something before she lost it. So she drank. A lot.

Paige didn’t know how to fix things with Zoey. She didn’t know how to get a handle on the whole Azzi situation. But she knew she needed to do something. So she drank. A lot.

Paige leaned over the bar and quickly got the bartender’s attention. “I need two shots of tequila and a dirty Shirley. Make it a double.”

She threw back the shots as quickly as they came. The first one burned. Sharp and unforgiving. Exactly what she deserved. The second burned a little less. And so did everything else. Still, it wasn’t enough.

Paige wiped her mouth with the back of her hand and let the warmth settle in her chest. She took a deep breath, shaky and uneven, and pushed off the bar, drink in hand, shoulders squared like she had to practice holding herself together. 

You’re fine, Paige told herself as she walked back toward the table. But she wasn’t fine. Not even close. Not tonight.

Her mind kept ricocheting between the look on Zoey’s face from earlier and the fact that Azzi was just a few feet away. Between the dull feeling on Paige’s cheek and the feeling of Azzi she felt everywhere. Between the past and future and everywhere in between.

Paige took a long sip of her drink and felt the sugar hit her tongue before the alcohol hit her bloodstream like a punch. The buzz rose in her chest, warm and aggressive. She walked back toward the team’s table on unsteady legs, hoping no one could tell how unsteady. By the time Paige reached the booth again, the room felt like it was tilting just a little. 

KK spotted her first. “You good, P?”

“Where’s Zoey?” Dijonai asked from the other side of her. 

Paige froze for half a second. Too long. She forced a swallow. Forced a shrug. Forced casual.

“She left,” Paige said, voice steadier than she felt. And because she couldn’t stop herself, because she never could when it came to Azzi, she looked immediately toward her.

Azzi was already looking at her. Her eyes hit Paige in the gut. Like a memory. Like a bruise. Like she got caught doing something she wasn’t even sure she’d done yet.

Azzi didn’t react. Not visibly to anyone else anyway. But Paige saw something flicker across her face. Sharp. Dark. Concern twisted with something else Paige couldn’t name without her heart combusting.

Paige looked away fast, but it didn’t matter. The damage was done. She felt it in her whole body. In the way her stomach dipped. In the way her chest tightened. In the way her heartbeat tripped and stuttered.

Falling down the rabbit hole of Azzi Fudd was something she should’ve trained her brain out of years ago. But here she was. Spiraling again. Deeper. Faster.

Over the course of another two rounds and a lot of conversation, Paige and Azzi locked eyes thirteen times. Even in her drunken state, Paige counted. She counted the number of times she caught Azzi looking at her, the number of times she held eye contact too long, and the number of times she had to try not to faint. 

Paige tried to focus on her friends. Really, she did. Courtney was talking about her flavor of the month. Dijonai was crying laughing over something Nalyssa said. Maddy and Cameron were talking about some stylist. There was so much going on, yet Paige couldn’t manage to process any of it. 

Somewhere between round three and four, someone suggested they get out on the dance floor. Without the opportunity to protest, Paige was shoved out of the booth and pulled toward the center of the room where the music was bumping and the floor felt alive under her feet.

Heat pressed in from every direction. Bodies moved around her, hands in the air, lights flashing red-blue-purple in dizzy pulses. Paige let herself get sucked into it because she had no other choice. Her brain was too loud, her heart too wild, her feelings too close to the surface.

Courtney grabbed her wrist, spinning her in tight circles until Paige stumbled into Nalyssa, who screamed-laughed and shoved her lightly back into the group. KK started chanting “AYE, AYE, AYE” to hype her up, while Maddy tried to record a video of the whole thing.

Paige smiled. Ate it up, really. Not because she was okay. She wasn’t. But it was the only way she knew how to keep herself upright.

She let the music shake through her bones. She did whatever TikTok dance KK had forced her into the other day. She smiled, and she laughed, and she did everything in her power not to look in the direction of the girl who was actively ruining her with every glance.

Paige kept moving her body, kept laughing, kept up the appearance of a good time. It must’ve been too much, because when she tripped and fell into Dijonai, KK grabbed her arm and pulled her closer. 

“You good, friend? I’m a little worried about you,” KK whisper-yelled over the music in Paige’s ear.

Paige didn’t even answer with words. Just waved her off and kept doing her thing. Doing everything but look in Azzi’s direction. 

And it worked. For about twelve more seconds. 

Because someone bumped Paige’s shoulder and as she turned her head to apologize, she caught Azzi in the corner of her eye. And in a second, she felt it all slip away. Her restraint. Her composure. Her common sense.

Suddenly, she couldn’t remember what she was supposed to be doing. She couldn’t remember why she had been so stressed out lately. All she knew was that she was looking at the most gorgeous woman she’d ever seen. And that woman was absolutely, undoubtedly the love of her life. She couldn’t remember the rest.

And because she couldn’t remember the rest, she decided that there was nothing stopping her from walking over there and talking to her. 

“Oh, hell no,” KK said.

But Paige was already moving.

KK grabbed her wrist and pulled her back. “Paige,” she hissed.

Paige looked at her with pleading eyes. “I just… I’m gonna go talk to her.”

“No the hell you’re not,” KK said, crossing her arms. 

“Yes, I am,” Paige said, the surest she’d been all night. “I need–she’s right there, okay? I just need to–”

“Embarrass yourself? Because that’s the only way this ends, babe,” Dijonai said, materializing next to KK.

Paige rolled her eyes. “You don’t even know anything, bruh. I’m literally fine. I’m just gonna go over there and…” 

Her sentence trailed off because she didn’t really know what she was going to do. Hey, I'm suddenly finding it really difficult to control myself around you. I still love you. And I just wanted you to know that. Or whatever sloppy, drunken words she could manage to string together. Either way, it felt right in the moment. 

“I don’t know, okay? I just know she is over there, and I wanna be near her, and none of it feels worth it anymore,” Paige explained frantically. Drunkenly.

KK and Dijonai exchanged looks as if to say what the fuck is she talking about? 

“Paige, what doesn’t feel worth it anymore?” KK asked, tone more sympathetic, like she was just realizing how bad Paige was doing.

“All of it!” Paige said a little louder than she should’ve. “None of it feels worth it without her.”

“Okay, look,” Dijonai said, placing a hand on her shoulder. “You’re making a scene and acting crazy. Here.” She dug around in her clutch before pulling out a pre-rolled joint and a lighter and pressing it into Paige’s palm. “Do us all a favor and go get some air, get some of that good shit in your system, and get your shit together.”

Paige looked for words to argue, but unfortunately, Dijonai was right. She didn’t have it in her to fight. So, she nodded. Headed for the balcony, Dijonai’s gifts in hand. As she broke away from the crowd, she turned back one last time. 

Azzi was watching her. With a look on her face that said she had been tracking Paige’s every move. Like she knew exactly how Paige was hanging over the edge. Like she knew was the reason for it.

And that was the thing that nearly knocked Paige to her knees. Every time she wondered Do you feel it too?, the answer was always yes. 

Somehow, Paige managed to tear her eyes away and head for the balcony. She pushed open the door and stepped out into the muggy, suffocating Dallas night. The heat wrapped around her instantly, thick and heavy, clinging to her skin like a second layer.

She walked right up to the railing. Looked out across the city. Her city. Not Azzi’s. It didn’t belong to her. Paige didn’t belong to her. (Yes, she did)

With shaky hands, Paige lifted the joint to her lips and sparked the lighter at the end. The smoke burned her throat, then her lungs, then trickled down her spine like honey. She exhaled slowly. Her pulse dropped. Barely. Her mind, still all over Azzi, finally began to slow enough to hear herself think.

Slowly, her thoughts came back to her in gentle waves. Azzi, Azzi, Azzi. It was embarrassing, honestly. How fast her brain defaulted right back to her. Like nothing else was worth as much to think about. She had to have been going clinically insane.

Because there was no explanation for how intensely she wanted Azzi. How her whole body hummed at the thought of being close to her. How being in the same room as her felt like gravity and drowning and breathing for the first time all at once.

Paige had fallen for Azzi hard before, but this was a whole different game. A much worse game. 

What the hell is wrong with me? Paige thought, pressing the heel of her palm into her forehead.

She shouldn’t still want her. Shouldn’t still need her. Shouldn’t still be undone by a single glance. She had Zoey. She had basketball. She had a life. A whole actual life that did not require Azzi Fudd to function.

So why did it feel like none of it mattered without her?

Paige exhaled smoke through a laugh that wasn’t even close to funny. Because she knew the answer. She’d always known the answer. Even when she pretended she didn’t.

Azzi was it for Paige. She always had been. And that was exactly the problem.

Paige gripped the railing, knuckles white, joint dangling between two fingers.

Because what about Zoey? Paige’s stomach twisted. She felt guilty. Horribly guilty. Sick, even.

She didn’t want to hurt Zoey. She didn’t want to leave her. She didn’t want to break her heart just because Paige couldn’t get a grip on her own. I can’t do that to her, Paige thought as she took another shaky drag. I won’t.

But the guilt mixed with the yearning until she didn’t know where one ended and the other began. Until she didn’t know which ache was Azzi and which ache was remorse.

She pressed her forehead against her forearm, eyes squeezing shut.

“This is stupid,” she whispered to herself. “I shouldn’t still need you.”

But she did. God, she did. Even when she hated it. Even when she wanted it gone. Especially then, it seemed.

Every version of Paige—young, old, hurt, healed, sober, drunk—was anchored to Azzi somehow. Like no matter where she ran, her heart stayed there.

She groaned to herself under her breath. “Get a fucking grip.”

She took another drag. And another. Each one trying to quiet the chaos, to settle the storm, to make her chest stop aching. It didn’t work. It only softened her edges just enough for the truth to sit comfortably inside her:

She wanted Azzi. More than she should. More than she’d admit. More than Zoey deserved.

She wasn’t leaving Zoey. She wasn’t breaking someone good just because she was broken inside.

She took another long drag and whispered into the night, “I can’t lose her.”

And she didn’t know if she meant Zoey or Azzi.

Before Paige could untangle that thought, before she could make sense of the knot twisting painfully in her chest, the balcony door opened behind her.

Her head whipped around to see Azzi stepping outside.

They froze. Both of them. It was like someone had sliced the air clean in half.

The door shut behind Azzi with a soft click, but Paige barely heard it. She barely heard anything. The music inside, the city sounds below, the thrum of summer heat around them. All of it faded under the weight of Azzi’s eyes on her.

Because Azzi’s stare was heavy. A slow drag. A full-body impact. A confession and a question all at once. Paige’s lungs locked up.

In the thick, humid Dallas night, with smoke curling off the joint in Paige’s hand, they just… looked at each other.

The moment stretched. Then doubled. Then broke only because Azzi finally spoke. “Hey,” Azzi said softly, breath catching the faintest bit on the word.

Paige swallowed hard. “Hey.”

Azzi stepped closer, just barely. “I just needed some air, but I can go if—”

“No.” Paige’s voice came out too fast, too desperate, too honest. “Don’t go.”

Azzi’s expression softened. “Okay.”

Paige knew this was dangerous. She knew nothing good could come of whatever was about to happen. And God, she should care. She should be sprinting in the other direction. But Zoey left. Left her alone. Where was there for her to go except the only place she’d ever known?

“Want a hit?” Paige asked, extending the joint toward Azzi.

Azzi took a step toward her. “Is this a peace offering?”

“Of sorts, Paige said, shrugging. “More like a friendly gesture. For my friend.”

Azzi smiled. That polite, sad smile you do when you can’t tell someone they hurt your feelings. 

Paige caught it. She wanted to take it back. Wanted to say out loud what they both already knew. I can never be your friend. You could never be anything less than everything to me. 

Azzi took the joint from her. She brought the joint to her lips, inhaled, and immediately coughed, bending forward a little as she laughed through it.

Paige laughed too, soft and involuntary. “Lightweight.”

Azzi shot her a half-glare, passing it back to Paige, still catching her breath. “Where’d you get this?”

“Nai,” Paige said, grabbing the joint, flicking ash off the railing. “She said I needed to calm down.”

Azzi’s brows lifted. “Yeah, you seem… tense tonight.”

Paige snorted. “What, you watching me now?”

Azzi didn’t hesitate. Didn’t blink. “I’m always watching you.”

Paige looked away quickly. That was the kind of line that could break her open if she let it. The kind that always had. “You can’t say stuff like that,” she murmured, eyes fixed somewhere past the skyline like she could outrun the implications.

Azzi’s voice softened. “Why not?”

Paige shook her head, taking a slow drag, letting the smoke burn a path down her throat so she didn’t have to answer. “You just can’t.”

She didn’t add the truth. Because I’m already hanging on by a thread. Because your words ruin me. Because I love you.

The silence that followed wasn’t empty. It was heavy. Thick with all of the things she would say if it were another life.

Paige could feel Azzi watching her again. She could always feel it. Like a touch without touch. A hand around her ribs. A pulse syncing to hers without permission.

Her chest tightened, breath catching in a way she tried to blame on the joint, the tequila, the heat. Anything but the truth standing three feet away.

Azzi shifted closer, just barely. But Paige felt it everywhere.

“Looks like it hurts,” Azzi said quietly, nodding toward Paige’s cheek.

Paige forced a shrug, casual, dismissive, brittle. “Nah. It’s not bad.”

Azzi tilted her head, voice low, careful. “Why’d you lie about it?”

Paige’s jaw flexed. “You don’t know what you’re talking about.”

Azzi huffed out something that wasn’t quite a laugh. “You’re still a shitty liar.”

Paige shrugged again. “I don’t know what to tell you.”

“Tell me she didn’t do that,” Azzi murmured.

Paige inhaled too sharply, coughing on the smoke, eyes watering. She didn’t know whether it was the weed or the question. Probably both. She didn’t answer.

Azzi’s expression tightened. Pain. Disappointment. Anger. All layered and low and quiet, the way Azzi got when she cared too much. “Right,” Azzi said, barely more than a whisper.

Paige closed her eyes for a second. “Maybe I deserved it.”

Azzi cocked her head. “Well, what did you do?”

Paige shook her head, eyes darting anywhere but Azzi’s. “I can’t tell you that.”

Azzi hesitated. Her voice came out small. Almost scared. “Is it… me?”

Paige felt every nerve in her body flare at once. Something like panic. Something like longing. Something like shame. “It’s actually really none of your fucking business,” she said, harsher than she meant, turning her face away. Azzi recoiled like the words physically struck her, a tiny step back, a quick blink, her mouth parting just slightly before she shut it again. Hurt flickered across her face. Fast, involuntary, real.

Paige felt it. God, she felt it everywhere. A pinch behind her ribs. A twist in her stomach. A hot wave of regret rising up her throat. She hadn’t meant for it to come out like that. Or maybe she had. Maybe the only way to survive Azzi was to scorch the earth between them before she got close enough to burn Paige alive.

Azzi’s voice, steady but trembling around the edges, cut through the air. “Wow,” she said quietly. “Okay. I thought we were friends.”

“Oh, come on. Don’t be fucking delusional.”

Azzi stiffened.

Paige kept going, because stopping meant feeling and she couldn’t feel anymore. She couldn’t survive it. Not tonight. “Do you seriously believe we can ever be friends?”

Azzi’s face softened, if only for a second. “I’d like to think we can try.”

“Well, stop trying,” Paige said, eyes finally meeting hers, full of exhaustion and want and something feral underneath.

That seemed to do it. Azzi’s expression shifted. Slowly at first, then all at once. Frustration. Impatience. Anger. “You can’t keep doing this,” Azzi said, stepping closer again, crowding Paige back against the railing. Not enough to touch. But enough that Paige could feel the shape of her. Her heat. Her breath.

Paige swallowed, her voice thin. “Doing what?”

“Walking around like I’m the devil and you want nothing to do with me,” Azzi continued, stepping closer again. “I know I hurt you, but you hurt me too. Really fucking bad.”

Her voice cracked, and Paige’s heart throbbed. Her knees felt like giving out. Her throat tightened. Her fingers twitched uselessly at her sides. 

Azzi kept going. “I’m sure that’s easy for you to never think about because you’re Paige Bueckers, and Paige Bueckers can never do any wrong. But guess what, Paige? It’s not fucking fair.”

Paige sucked in a breath. Sharp. Painful. Like she’d been punched. She forced her face into something flat. Controlled. Unbothered. Except she wasn’t unbothered. She was hanging by a thread. A thin, pathetic thread that frayed more every time Azzi opened her mouth.

“Life isn’t fair,” Paige said, barely more than a breath as she tore her gaze away, because if she looked at Azzi while she said it, she might crumble.

She tried to walk away. Tried. But before she could even take a full step, Azzi grabbed her by the lapels of her jacket and yanked Paige back toward her like she’d run out of patience. 

Paige gasped as their bodies collided like gravity. Inevitable. She was frozen. Couldn’t move. Couldn’t speak. Couldn’t stop herself from feeling all of things she wasn’t supposed to feel.  

“No, you know what’s not fair?” Azzi said, tugging Paige even closer. “You acting like I’m to blame for all of your big feelings because I’m making things difficult for you,” she taunted. 

Paige couldn’t look anywhere but Azzi’s eyes. And her lips. Oh God, her lips. 

“Baby, this is a two-player game,” Azzi continued. “And from the looks of it, you’re still playing.”

Paige swallowed hard. “I’m not–”

“No!” Azzi cut her off. “You have one question to answer.”

Paige’s breath caught. She didn’t move. She couldn’t. Azzi’s fists were still curled in her jacket, knuckles white, pulling her in so close Paige could feel the shape of every inhale Azzi took. Their chests brushed. Their hips aligned. Paige felt every single point of contact like a live wire pressed against her skin. She was going to melt straight through the balcony floor. Possibly die. Probably both.

Azzi leaned in, voice dropping to a whisper that landed directly on Paige’s mouth. “Do you want me?”

Everything inside Paige short-circuited. Her pulse surged so fast she thought her ribs might snap from the pressure. Her stomach flipped. Her knees wobbled. A tremor ran through her hands. She tried to form a word. Any word. Nothing came out.

Because what was she supposed to say? Yes, I want you. I’ve always wanted you. I’m still yours. I’ll always be yours. Even when I’m trying not to be. Even when I’m with someone else. Even when it’s ruining me.

Her silence was an answer. A much louder answer than anything she could’ve possibly said with words.

Azzi exhaled like she felt it hit her. Like Paige’s face gave away every truth Paige had tried so hard to bury.

For a split second, Azzi’s expression softened. Cracked. Broke open in the way Paige had memorized years ago. The way she used to look at her in the dark, in the quiet, in the moments they pretended the rest of the world didn’t exist.

Paige leaned in. Not meaning to. Not thinking. Just pulled by something ancient and unbreakable and hers.

Her forehead brushed Azzi’s. Her breath mingled with Azzi’s. Her lips hovered a breath from Azzi’s.

It would’ve taken one inch. One. Inch.

Azzi’s fingers tightened in her jacket, like she was ready to pull Paige the rest of the way.

Paige felt the world tilt toward the point of no return—

“Paige!”

KK burst through the balcony door and stopped dead in her tracks when she saw Paige and Azzi. Her voice cut through the moment like a blade.

They heard KK, but didn’t look away from each other. They stayed stuck in the same trance that pulled them from the moment they met. 

“I don’t know what the fuck I’m interrupting, but Paige, Zoey is here, and she is looking for you.”

Paige flinched but didn’t break eye contact. Azzi didn’t let go.

Paige swallowed. Hard. Her voice came out ruined. “I have to go.” But she didn’t move.

Azzi didn’t release her lapels. Didn’t take a step back. Didn’t look away.

Paige finally forced herself to pull back. Slowly, painfully, like peeling herself off something she was fused to. Azzi’s fingers slipped from her jacket with a reluctant drag that set Paige’s whole body on fire.

She turned toward the door, dizzy, wrecked, heart hammering against bone.

KK stared at her like she’d seen a ghost. “Girl… you good?”

Paige didn’t answer. Couldn’t. She brushed past her and stumbled inside, Azzi’s breath still on her skin, her hands still on her jacket, her question still echoing like a heartbeat she couldn’t outrun. Do you want me?

Paige walked straight into the Club. Heart racing, chest tight, mind screaming. She found Zoey waiting. And she had no idea how she was going to hold herself together.

Zoey was standing by the entrance. Arms crossed, foot tapping, eyes scanning the room with the kind of impatience that already made Paige’s stomach twist. She looked angry. And Paige, already dizzy and split clean down the middle, felt the guilt hit like a second punch.

“Hey,” Paige said, voice thin, breath uneven, like she was still half out on the balcony. Half pressed against Azzi. Half undone.

Zoey clocked her immediately. “I want to go home.”

Paige blinked. “Now? It’s barely eleven.”

“Yes, now.” Zoey’s tone wasn’t sharp, but it was tight. Controlled. The way someone talks when they’ve already cried once and refuse to cry again. “I don’t want to be here anymore.”

Paige nodded fast. Too fast. “Okay. Yeah. Let’s go.”

Zoey grabbed her hand and tugged her toward the exit. Paige tried not to flinch. She tried to ground herself in the familiarity of Zoey’s fingers, her perfume, her presence. But her chest felt like two hands were squeezing it. One belonging to Zoey, one belonging to Azzi.

The Uber ride was quiet for a full thirty seconds. Long enough for Paige to pray Zoey would stay silent, just let her breathe, let her think. But of course, life wasn’t going to give Paige that mercy.

“Everyone was talking about your game,” Zoey said, like it was just small talk.

Paige knew she needed to tread lightly. “Oh yeah?” she said neutrally. 

“Oh, yeah,” Zoey said, tone more sarcastic now. “It was all ‘Azzi Fudd this’ and ‘Azzi Fudd that’ and just a whole bunch of bullshit.”

“Zoey,” Paige said quietly. She could tell Zoey was drunk, and this was everything she didn’t say earlier, bubbling over.

Zoey pushed on. “It was just annoying to hear them drooling over this girl for all the stuff you’ve been doing for years.”

“Stop,” Paige murmured. She wasn’t even sure Zoey heard her.

If she did, she didn’t care. “And honestly? I don’t even think she’s that good.”

Paige’s entire body went rigid.

“She’s just so entitled, acting like she’s God’s gift to basketball and–”

“That’s enough.” Paige’s voice cut through the air, rough and firm.

Zoey blinked at her with a shocked expression on her face. “Really? You’re defending her now?”

“Always.”

Zoey opened and closed her mouth like she couldn’t figure out what to say. “Excuse me for being upset that my girlfriend hates me all of a sudden because that girl–” 

“That girl,” Paige cut in, voice slicing through the car like a blade, “is one of the best players in the world. She works her ass off. She’s disciplined, she’s locked in, she doesn’t complain, she’s—” Paige stopped herself, chest tightening. “She’s good. Really fucking good. Better than me.”

Zoey stared at her like she’d been slapped. “Okay? And why are you saying it like I insulted your wife?”

Paige’s jaw locked. She didn’t look at Zoey. Couldn’t. The streetlights flashing through the window felt easier to face than the truth on Zoey’s face.

Zoey scoffed. “You seriously can’t hear how insane you sound? You’ve spent the last few days acting like I barely exist—”

“Then be mad at me,” Paige cried. “Take it out on me. But don’t you talk about her like that. Not to me. Not ever.”

The car went silent.

Paige’s chest heaved like suddenly there wasn’t enough oxygen in the car for her to swallow. Zoey just stared at her like she knew she had already lost. Paige couldn’t take it anymore.

“Sir, would you pull over, please?” Paige asked, looking at the driver through the rearview mirror.

Zoey looked at her like she was crazy. “What? Paige, what are you doing?”

Paige didn’t answer. Just waited for the car to come to a stop and pushed open the door.

“Where are you going? We’re not done,” Zoey pleaded, grabbing Paige’s arm before she could step out of the car.

“No, actually, I think we are.” Paige ripped her arm away and stepped out onto the sidewalk. 

She started walking in the direction of her apartment, paying no attention to the Uber pulling off in the opposite direction. 

Silence swallowed everything. No club music. No city hum. No Azzi breathing against her mouth. No Zoey crying in frustration beside her. Just Paige. Alone on a Dallas sidewalk with the summer heat pressing against her like a punishment.

She sucked in a breath that scraped on the way down. What the hell am I doing? she thought.

The farther she walked, the slower her steps became. Not calmer, but heavier. Like every step pulled the weight of the truth behind her.

The Dallas heat clung to her skin, thick and suffocating, and she couldn’t tell if it was the weather or the shame that made her face burn.

She dragged a hand over her face, wincing when her fingers brushed the tender bruise on her cheek. The bruise Zoey had given her. The bruise Azzi had noticed immediately. The bruise Paige lied about because she wasn’t ready to admit to anyone (not even herself) how messy it had all become.

But as Paige walked, the truth pressed harder and harder against her ribs. She had probably just ended things with Zoey. Right there in the back of an Uber. She didn’t mean to. Not at first anyway. But the harder Zoey pressed, the harder Paige had to try to hold herself together. And she was tired. So she stopped.

She knew she should care more. She should be devastated. Zoey didn’t deserve that. Zoey didn’t deserve any of this. Zoey loved her, and Paige… well, Paige was supposed to love her back.

But as the humid night wrapped around her, as sweat slid down her spine and her pulse kept stuttering in her throat, Paige felt nothing but a dull ache of guilt and something far stronger rising under it. Something for Azzi. Always something for Azzi.

Her walk sped up without her meaning to. A sharp, building agitation flooded her bloodstream. Anger, confusion, longing tangled into something jagged that scraped along every inch of her insides. Her fists curled at her sides. She didn’t even realize she was clenching them until her nails bit into her palms.

Because she couldn’t stop replaying the night. Every second of it. Every breath.

She was spiraling. She knew she was spiraling. But she couldn’t stop. At least anger felt clearer than heartbreak. At least anger kept her upright. The farther she walked, the hotter her blood ran.

She kicked an empty can on the sidewalk, sending it skittering across the pavement. “Fuck,” she muttered under her breath. The sound ripped out of her, raw and frustrated.

Was she mad at Zoey? Yes, obviously. Was she mad at herself? Absolutely. Without a doubt. But underneath it all was a relentless fury she couldn’t place, couldn’t tame. 

Because she was still mad at Azzi. Or at least, she wanted to be. She knew she could never actually be mad at Azzi. With her, it was always just feelings getting caught up in all the bullshit. And because Paige couldn’t dissect the complexities of that in her current state, she just decided she was mad.

Mad that Azzi could still unravel Paige so easily. Mad that Paige let her. Mad that a single look from her could make Paige forget every boundary she’d built. Mad that she wanted her. Mad that she couldn’t stop wanting her. And mad that part of her didn’t even want to.

Paige thought that walking might help her cool off, but as she finally approached her building, she realized she was more tightly wound than before.

She punched her code into the keypad outside the building with more force than necessary. Stormed through the lobby to the elevator and almost laughed when she saw herself in the reflection. 

Red eyes. Flushed cheeks. Bruise darkening on her face. A girl who had just ruined something with someone good… because she couldn’t stop thinking about someone who broke her.

A laugh slipped out of her. Short, breathless, humorless. “You’re unbelievable,” she muttered to herself. “Actually insane.”

Her heart was still hammering against her ribs. Frantic, uneven, almost angry. Because at this point, she was well beyond the truth of wanting Azzi. She needed her. Still. Always. Forever. 

As the elevator doors opened on her floor, Paige stepped out and trudged down the hall to her door. She was exhausted. The only thing that kept her moving was the thought that her bed was just a hundred feet away. The end of the longest night of her life was in sight.

When she got to her apartment, she patted her pockets for her keys and came up empty. “Shit,” she muttered to herself. She tried the doorknob anyway, and surprisingly, it was unlocked. She shrugged and pushed it open.

Paige stepped inside, thinking maybe she forgot to lock the door, or maybe Zoey was the last one out, or–

She froze. Because Azzi was sitting on her couch. Like she had been waiting. Like she belonged there.

Paige’s mouth fell open. “What the fuck are you doing here?”

Azzi adjusted her position on the couch to get a better look at Paige. “We didn’t finish that conversation earlier.”

Paige was still processing. Still staring, dumbfounded. “How did you even get in here?”

With a smirk on her face, Azzi lifted Paige’s keys into the air for her to see them. “You left these.”

Paige placed her hands on top of her head in disbelief. She blinked, trying to ignore the heat crawling up her neck. “You–okay… but how did you even get into the building?”

Azzi’s eyebrows flicked up. “Your code is 0535. You really think I couldn’t figure that one out?”

Paige’s cheeks flamed. She was a little mortified. But still too crossed to care much about that. 

She changed the subject. “Why are you here?”

Azzi stood from the couch, sighing. “To figure out what your problem is.”

Paige laughed once. Sharp. Humorless. “My problem? I’ve already told you my problem. You don’t get to show up here acting however you want because I’m not twenty years old anymore, eating out of the palm of your hand how you like me.”

The words flew out before Paige could stop them. Sharp. Splintered. She didn’t care.

Azzi’s eyes lit up. She laughed, but there was nothing soft about it. “You’re not?” she teased.

Paige shook her head and clenched her jaw as she turned away. “I’m not fucking doing this,” she said, already three steps to her bedroom.

Before Paige could make it to the hallway, Azzi moved fast and cut her off. They were close now. Too close. “No, let’s have it out. Say exactly what you need to say so you can stop feeling sorry for yourself,” she said with a pointed finger in the middle of Paige’s chest.

Paige froze. Her expression twisted. Insulted, but not in the fragile kind of way. This was the edge of something. That sharp place where love got tangled up in everything else. “You think I feel sorry for myself?” she hissed.

Azzi didn’t blink. Didn’t back off. “Don’t you? Isn’t that why you keep fucking girls who don’t know how to hurt you right?” she bit out, nodding at the bruise on Paige’s cheek.

Paige let the words sink for a moment. Then, quietly, “You don’t know shit.”

Azzi smiled. “Baby, I know everything. I know you. Probably better than anyone. Definitely better than you know yourself.”

The words landed hard right in the hollow part of Paige’s chest. She hated how much they rang true. Hated that Azzi still knew exactly where to strike.

“Is that what you came here to do?” Paige shot back, her voice breaking around the edges now. “Give me your expert opinion on what’s wrong with me? Press on the bruise you left to see if I still break the same way?”

She turned, marched to the bar cart, and with shaky hands, poured herself a drink. Whiskey neat.

“Well, guess what?” She threw back a swallow. “It still fucking hurts. Congratulations.”

She set the bottle down with more force than she meant to. “You need to leave.”

Azzi let out a breathy laugh. Sharp, knowing, maddening. “There it is.”

Paige’s shoulders tensed. Her grip tightened around her glass, knuckles white.

Azzi took a step toward her. Then another. Slow. Deliberate. Like she was approaching something fragile and combustible at the same time. “You push me away when it gets hard, but tt’s always ‘you need to leave’ and never ‘I want you to leave.’ Like it’s all my fault and not yours.”

Paige refused to turn around. She stared at the amber liquid in her glass as if it might explain something to her. Anything.

Azzi’s voice softened. “Go ahead. Own it. Tell me you want me to leave.”

Paige’s jaw clenched so hard it hurt. She swallowed, throat tight. “I…” She forced the words out. “I have a girlfriend. You can’t be here.”

Azzi’s grin spread slowly and mercilessly. “Right,” she said. “Of course.”

Paige couldn’t stand the smugness in her tone. She walked away to the armchair across the room. Dropped into it, sinking back like her bones finally gave up. She took another sip of her drink, trying to keep her hand steady, trying to avoid Azzi’s gaze.

Azzi watched her. Chest rising and falling with controlled breaths. Eyes dark. Focused. Hungry. 

Distance is good, Paige thought. Apparently, not good enough, because Azzi started walking toward her. 

Paige didn’t realize what was happening until she was right there in front of her. 

Azzi placed one knee over Paige’s thigh. Then the other. And lowered herself into Paige’s lap, straddling her.

Paige’s breath left her in one harsh exhale. “Jesus Christ,” she muttered, jerking her face away on instinct—because looking directly at Azzi in this position would end her.

Azzi wasn’t having that.

She slid a hand into Paige’s hair and grabbed a fistful, turning Paige’s head until they were face-to-face. Mouth-to-mouth. Breath-to-breath.

“If you really cared about…” Azzi trailed off lightly, eyes flicking up like she was trying to remember something trivial. “What’s her name again? Zoey? If you really cared about her, then where is she?”

Paige’s chest caved inward. “I do care about her.”

Azzi’s smile sharpened. “Is that right?” Her grip tightened in Paige’s hair, pulling her closer.

Paige nodded, pupils blown wide, lips parted. She set the glass on the side table with trembling fingers.

Azzi leaned in, slow, devastating, and whispered against Paige’s ear, “Do you say her name the way you used to say mine?”

Paige shuddered so hard the chair creaked beneath them.

Azzi tugged her head to the side, lips brushing Paige’s neck. “Do you let her touch you the way I used to?”

“Azzi…” Paige gasped, voice breaking, breath hot and uneven.

“Do you think about me when she touches you?” Azzi whispered, teeth grazing her skin.

Paige moaned, helpless, unguarded, her hands flying to Azzi’s waist as if her body was choosing for her.

Azzi rolled her hips slowly, deliberately, as she murmured, “Do you think about me when you touch yourself?”

Paige’s moan cracked into something else. Something wrecked and needy and furious at itself. Her fingers dug into Azzi’s hips. Her head fell back. She looked up at Azzi with wide, hungry eyes, every lie she’d told herself dissolving in real time.

Azzi let go of her hair, leaning back slightly to study her.

Paige stared up at her, chest heaving, lips parted, pupils dark. She looked ruined. She looked desperate. She looked like she belonged exactly where she was.

Azzi cupped Paige’s jaw, thumb brushing under her chin. Her voice dropped to a low murmur. “Yeah, baby. I know that face.” She smirked. “I know that when your eyes get like that, you can’t stay away for long.”

And just like that, she pushed off Paige’s lap, grabbed her purse off the kitchen counter, and walked toward the front door without looking back.

Paige scrambled upright, gripping the arm of the chair for balance. “What do you even want from me?” she asked, her voice cracking so badly it barely sounded like her.

Azzi paused a few feet before she got to the door. Turned around with a look on her face like the answer was obvious.

“Leave her.”

And then, she was gone. 

-------------------

Should’ve Been You

Pazzi (paige x azzi)

SMUT

warnings: emotional breakdowns, mention of unwanted touching and sexual pressure, first time, fingering, nipple play

wc: 4.5k

MDNI

notes: Sorry this took so long, been really busy. Last fic for a bit, please don’t send any requests! Thank you for still being interested in this one though:) Not perfect and I don’t really think I like it that much but here you go. Also it was originally supposed to be asshole!P but that didn’t really happen…

Number One

Pairing: WNBA!Paige x Draft!Azzi x College!reader

Subject: Paige and Azzi are both drafted to the W, and you feel like you’re being left behind.

Warnings: Slight angst, abandonment issues, (might’ve missed something :/)

When Paige got drafted it was simultaneously one of the best and hardest day of your life.

You were happy that her dreams were finally coming true and that all the hard work she put in was materializing before her eyes.

But What made it hard was the realization that, your girlfriend was leaving you, that she was going to the W and you would be stuck at UConn for another 2 years.

The only thing that was able to comfort you in that moment was the fact that you still had your other girlfriend to comfort you, Azzi. That comfort wrapped around you like a blanket.

————————————————————————

But now here you were a year later feeling the same feelings you felt before.

It was now Azzi’s moment. The moment she worked towards everytime she entered the gym.

And although the area was the same, the city was the same, and the feeling felt the same, something was different.

Different because this time when you went back to UConn, there would be no one going back with you. No one to say that they would still be there and cherish you.

It wasnt like Paige and Azzi were breaking up with you, it just felt like their worlds were slowly drifting away from yours and you were getting left behind.

————————————————————————

At the after party you don’t say much, just sit at the table taking small sips of your drink, hoping that eventually it’ll kick and leave you numb.

Azzi and Paige noticed your mood change, since the moment the draft started.

The way you quietly answered their questions and barely made eye contact.

They knew something was up, they just hoped eventually you’d say something.

The after party moves like a blur around you. People’s bodies dancing from one place to another, their laughs echoing in and around you.

You smell Paige and Azzi before you see them. The smell of your girlfriends’ perfume and cologne mixing to make an intoxicating aroma.

“You okay baby?” Paige says, her voice laced with that concern from earlier and a hint of alcohol.

Your response is meek and quiet, your eyes once again adverting theirs, “yeah”.

Azzi speaks before Paige can respond, frustration laced in her tone due to your lack of communication, “Stop lying. We know you’re not okay babe, you’ve barely spoken a thing all day, so come on let’s go”

You take the hand she gives you and follow behind her willingly, Paige following suite.

She leads you too a quite room that looks to be some other party venue.

You don’t say anything at first, instead letting the silence wrap around you, as you wait for one of them to speak first. Paige makes that first step.

“Come on what’s up baby, hm?”

You stay silent for a few more seconds before responding, your head spinning as you try to choose your words carefully.

“I don’t know… I just- I feel like I’m being left behind, like you guys are doing all these great successful things and I’m just stuck at UConn”

They look at each other before speaking, their eyes saying a thousand words that their mouths don’t.

“Babe what? Is that’s what been bothering you?” Azzi, asks.

“Yeah” you respond, your voice quiet from the lump in your throat.

Their eyes are filled with sadness and care as they take a step closer to you.

“Baby we would never leave you behind. You’re our number one girl. Just cause you’re still at UConn doesn’t mean anything. We love you and no distance is gonna change that…okay?”

You nod in response as you feel the tears fall.

Paige and Azzi wrap you in their arms, their voices whispering sweet nothings in your ear.

When you finally calm, they both look at you to make sure you’re okay.

When you finally meet their eyes, all you see is love.

Pairing: Pazzi x Reader

Fandom: WNBA-Dallas Wings/ UConn wbb

Summary: Watching Pazzi with kids triggers dramatic ovulation and TikTok chaos.

🏷️: @paigeshirleytemple , @cowboybueckers , @unknowgirlypop , @yailtsv , @nicebellee , @sitawita , @thatonesuschix , @vamptizm , @elalfywhore , @starfulani , @authentic-girl03 , @paxaz535 , @azziswrld , @jadasogay , @paigeluvvr , @melpthatsme , @lessi-lover , @courtsidewithlani , @defntkaizer , @italyyy , @lightsgore , @private-but-not-a-secret , @aubreygriffin , @issilovesherself , @graceeeeeesblog , @sayurireidotcom , @let-zizi-yap , @latenighttalkinqwp , @fairyblossomsav , @liloandstitchstan , @kaliblazin , @marleymarleymarleymarley , @latenighttalkinqwp , @atimelessheaven , @wbbszn , @em--n-ems , @bueckersbucket

Dating Pazzi should come with a warning label. Something like: may cause unexpected feelings of baby fever, chaos, and TikTok meltdowns.

I swear it started at WNBA All-Star weekend in July.

Paige was surrounded by kids the whole time—signing jerseys, letting toddlers give her things they’ve made for her, crouching down to their level like she was born for it. Azzi wasn’t much better, holding an arm baby during All-Star weekend.

My hormones? They took notes.

Fast forward to September, and the sightings hadn’t slowed down.

Every time I opened Instagram, there was another clip of Paige interacting with fan’s baby or the little kids that are fans themselves, or Azzi at her family’s cabin with friends and family playing with the little kids and babies.

And the worst part? They both looked so good doing it. Natural. Effortless. Like they’d been preparing for parenthood in secret.

So, when my body reminded me that yes, I was ovulating, the logical part of my brain packed up and left the building.

We were getting ready for dinner one night..Paige in the bathroom drying her hair, post shower.

Azzi sitting on the bed scrolling her phone and I marched in like a woman on a mission.

“Okay,” I blurted. “One of you needs to put a baby in me. ASAP.”

Paige froze mid–hair flip, staring at me in the mirror. “Huh?”

Azzi lowered her phone slowly, raising her brows. “Did you just—?”

“Yes,” I said firmly, crossing my arms. “I can’t keep watching you two with babies and kids and not get one of my own. So. Put one in me.”

Paige turned, arms crossed. “Babe. That’s not how that works.”

“Yeah, no,” Azzi agreed, trying not to laugh. “That’s not… how that works.”

“Excuse me?” I gasped. “So you’re telling me you don’t love me enough to make me a mommy?”

Paige groaned. “Here we go.”

“No, I’m serious!” I stomped my foot for dramatic effect. “You guys are baby whisperers. Every kid you touch smiles like it’s Christmas morning. Meanwhile, I’m over here suffering. Ovulating. And alone!”

Azzi bit her lip, eyes sparkling with amusement. Paige shook her head.

“That’s literally not what we said,” Paige muttered.

“Oh, I’m posting about this,” I declared, grabbing my phone.

Ten minutes later, I had a TikTok up with a sad souls and it’s where Paige and Azzi are walking ahead of me.

Caption: “They told me they don’t love me 💔🥺”

The comments went feral immediately.

• “??? Girl are you okay???”

• “Not Pazzi breaking your heart like this 😭”

• “Do we need to start a #FreeYN campaign??”

Paige commented first: “That’s not what we said and you know it 🙄😂”

Azzi followed: “Stop lying on our names.”

Of course, that only made fans more confused.

A couple of days later, I was in Connecticut helping KK finish her move into her dorm for the 2025–2026 season.

Sarah and Kelis were there, and Ice had popped by too.

It felt like controlled chaos, ya know boxes everywhere, music blasting, KK singing into a hairbrush like it was a mic.

Naturally, KK decided to go live on TikTok.

We were in the middle of unpacking clothes when the comments started rolling in:

“Y/N what did you mean by Azzi and Paige not loving you???”

“Wait are you fr?”

“Pazzi wouldn’t do you like that.”

KK gasped dramatically, turning the camera toward me. “Ohhh, they’re asking about your TikTok, Y/N. Explain yourself.”

I dropped the hoodie in my hands with a sigh. “Yeah, they don’t love me. I asked them to make me a mommy, and they said that’s not how that works. Like…make it make sense.”

The chat blew up instantly.

Right then, Azzi walked in carrying a box. She set it down, gave me that you’re so unserious look, then leaned into the camera.

“We love you,” she said firmly, pointing at me. “But that’s not how that works. And not right now.”

She kissed my forehead, then walked out of frame like she hadn’t just caused chaos.

The live went ballistic.

We ended up staying on live for another hour and a half.

Kelis kept zooming in on my face every time I pouted.

Kk tried teaching me a TikTok dance, which was a disaster.

Sarah kept reading comments out loud like she was narrating a drama series. Ice laughed so hard she cried.

In the middle of it, my phone buzzed with a FaceTime from Paige.

I answered, holding it up so everyone could see.

Paige’s face filled the screen, unimpressed. “Really? You told them on live that we don’t love you?”

I tried to look innocent. “Well, you don’t. You denied me motherhood.”

“Ma,” she said slowly, “be so for real. We can’t give you a baby, and you know that.”

I pursed my lips. “Yeah… yeah. Just get me a puppy and I might take back my statement.”

Paige stared at me for a long beat, deadpan. “A puppy?”

“Yes.”

She sighed. “I’ll see what I can do.”

The room erupted in laughter.

“You’re so dramatic,” Ice said between giggles.

“Puppy fever is just as bad as baby fever,” Sarah added.

Kelis snickers then pokes my cheek before going , “they has you spoiled .”

And Azzi, of course, just smirked and kept folding clothes like she was above it all.

I stayed in Connecticut for a week before flying back to Dallas, where Paige had already returned for on the road games.

And honestly, I thought she’d forgotten about the whole puppy thing.

I even started scrolling rescue accounts myself, daydreaming about floppy ears and tiny paws.

But when I walked into our apartment, dragging my suitcase behind me, I heard Paige call, “Living room!”

I dropped my bag and walked in only to stop dead in my tracks.

There she was, sitting cross-legged on the floor… with the tiniest dachshund puppy I’d ever seen wriggling in her lap.

My jaw dropped. “Oh. My. God.”

Paige grinned, scooping up the six-week-old bundle of brown fur. “Meet your new baby.”

I screamed. Literally screamed. “PAIGE!”

The puppy yipped like she was joining in. I fell to my knees, hands over my mouth. Paige placed the pup gently in my arms, and my heart melted instantly.

“She looks like a cocoa bean,” I whispered, stroking her velvety ears. “Oh my god, she’s perfect.”

Paige smirked. “Then that’s her name. Cocoa Bean.”

Tears prickled at my eyes. “Paige…”

“I figured this was safer than actually trying to make you a mommy,” she teased.

“Shut up,” I laughed through the tears. “I love her.”

Cocoa Bean licked my chin, tail wagging furiously, and I swear I’d never been happier.

The next week was pure chaos.

Cocoa Bean was tiny but mighty, with two modes: sleepy cuddlebug and destructive hurricane.

She chewed my shoelaces, barked at her own reflection, and peed on one of Paige’s socks…which, yes, I laughed at.

Azzi flew in for the weekend, and Cocoa Bean immediately claimed her as a third parent.

Azzi would sit on the couch, scrolling her phone, and Cocoa would wiggle into her lap like she belonged there.

One night, I pouted, “I think she loves you more than me.”

Azzi smirked, scratching Cocoa’s belly. “Well, I am the fun parent.”

“Excuse me?” Paige cut in. “If anyone’s the fun parent, it’s me.”

I crossed my arms. “So what does that make me?”

They exchanged a look, then said in unison: “The dramatic one.”

Cocoa barked like she agreed.

Traitor.

The best part? My TikTok comments went from “Are you okay???” to “Pazzi really does love you 🥺” after I posted a video of Cocoa Bean asleep on my chest.

Caption: “Meet my daughter 💕🐾”

Paige commented: “You’re welcome 🙄”

Azzi added: “Already spoiled smh.”

And the fans ate it up.

■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■

                 -Thank You For Reading!💚💙

Pairing: KK Arnold x Reader GF

Type: One Shot (Requested)

Warnings: None (Fluff)

Word Count: 911

Synopsis: A certain UConn guard has a reputation for being the team’s resident menace — until her girlfriend shows up. Around her, the chaos softens, the teasing gets louder, and the affection gets impossible to hide. Maybe love really does make even the wildest hearts go quiet

A/N: Wrote this when i was going thru my kk phase and someone js requested so here we areeee, I also i promise ill be postng some more drafts and new stuff todayyy

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Everyone on the team knows one universal truth: If something mildly disruptive happens, KK Arnold is involved.

If a locker mysteriously jams? KK. If someone’s shoes got swapped? KK. If the group chat explodes with 80 memes at 2 a.m.? KK again.

But the other universal truth is even stronger: KK’s chaos disappears the second her girlfriend walks into the room.

Which is exactly what happens today.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

You walk into the practice facility with your smoothie in hand, hoodie sleeves pulled over your wrists, and the entire team freezes like they’re witnessing a wildlife documentary.

Aaliyah whispers, “Don’t make noise. She’s here.”

Nika adds dramatically, “The KK whisperer has arrived.”

You blink. “What are y’all doing?”

Before anyone can answer,—

“BABY!” KK’s voice echoes through the locker room like she’s announcing your arrival to the entire state of Connecticut.

Suddenly, a blur of curls and enthusiasm runs full speed at you. You barely have time to brace before KK scoops you up — actually lifts you off the ground — spinning you once like she hasn’t seen you in years.

You laugh, clutching her shoulders. “KK! Put me down!”

“No,” she declares, sounding far too proud. “I didn’t get my daily hug.”

“You literally saw me this morning.”

“Yeah,” KK says, setting you down but not letting go, “but that was a morning hug. This is a pre-practice hug.”

The team groans like they’re watching a rom-com against their will.

Paige mutters, “She’s so whipped it’s crazy.”

You shoot her a look. “Jealous?”

Paige shrugs. “A little.”

KK smirks at her. “Should be.”

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

While you chat with Aaliyah and grab some tape, KK follows behind you like a golden retriever in human form.

Literally follows. Step for step. Right on your heels.

At one point she bumps into your back because she wasn’t looking where she was going.

“Baby,” you sigh, hand automatically reaching back to squeeze her arm, “you can walk next to me.”

“Nope,” KK says happily. “I like this angle.”

“Why?”

“Cause I can look at you.”

The team: ABSOLUTELY DISTGUSTED

Nika throws a towel at her. “Stop being adorable. It’s getting gross.”

KK throws the towel back without breaking eye contact with you. “Cry about it.”

You facepalm. KK beams like she just won something.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

During warmups, KK is all energy — bouncing, grinning, talking smack to literally no one in particular.

But every time she makes a shot?

She looks at you.

As if you were the one she needed to impress.

Even Geno laughs about it. “Arnold, maybe look at the rim, not your girlfriend.”

KK blushes, which is rare. “Sorry, Coach. She’s motivating.”

You shake your head, cheeks warming.

She jogs over during water break, wrapping her arm around your waist.

“You see that last three?” she asks, eyes bright.

“I did,” you say, brushing sweat from her forehead. “Looked good.”

“Only cause you were watching.”

You roll your eyes. “You’re ridiculous.”

KK leans in, grin softening. “You love it.”

You do. You really do.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Practice ends. Everyone’s tired, sweaty, yelling across the gym.

KK makes her way straight to you, collapsing dramatically onto your lap on the bench.

“KK,” you laugh, pushing her curls out of your face, “you’re sweaty.”

“And?” She wraps her arms fully around your waist. “I’m comfortable.”

“You’re like a human heater right now.”

“Good,” KK says, muffled against your neck. “Stay warm.”

You glance at the team — all staring like this is their favourite TV show.

“Why are y’all watching us?”

Aaliyah says, deadpan, “Because she turns into a completely different person around you and it’s fascinating.”

Nika nods. “Like watching someone tame a raccoon.”

KK flips her off without looking up. “Shut up.”

You laugh, hugging her tighter.

“Hey,” you say softly, “you good?”

KK pulls back just enough to meet your eyes. The chaos is still there, but something softer lives behind it.

“I’m perfect,” she says. Then she kisses you — quick, warm, grounding.

The team collectively groans again.

Ashlynn: “I need earplugs.” Paige genuinely concerned asks “Y’all, me and Azzi aren’t like that right?” The team is silent, Paige and Azzi lock eyes for a moment, grossed out by themselves before KK pipes up, “Skill issue.”

You bury your face in KK’s shoulder so they can’t see how much you’re smiling.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

On the way out of the gym, KK laces her fingers with yours, swinging your hands between you like she’s incapable of walking normally.

“What?” you tease, nudging her hip.

“Nothing,” she says, but she’s staring at you with that proud, lovesick look again.

“KK,” you warn, trying not to laugh, “stop looking at me like that.”

“Like what?”

“Like you’re in love with me.”

“I am,” she says instantly, like it’s the easiest truth in the world.

You stop walking.

KK does too — immediately, because she refuses to be more than two feet away from you ever.

Your heart stumbles a little. “…Say it again.”

KK smiles, soft and sure. “I’m in love with you.”

You squeeze her hand, leaning into her shoulder as you start walking again.

“Good,” you whisper. “Cause I’m in love with you, too.”

KK beams — all teeth, all dimples, all sunshine — and you swear you feel the temperature jump ten degrees.

“God,” she says, wrapping her arm around you as you walk, “I’m so obsessed with you.”

“Trust me,” you reply, “everyone knows.”

KK laughs.

“I don’t care.”