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aboutwhitechocolate535

Oct 2, 2025

azzinator

Little Things

Tags: Slice-of-life / Fluff / Pregnancy Test / Parenting / Cute and Wholesome

Words: 3K

Warnings: None, this is just fluff lol

Summary: A collection of little things that Azzi and Paige noticed about each other

1. Fear of Storms (2019, Arlington)

Azzi Fudd was wide awake, between two realities.

Outside, the rain was heavy, steady, and most importantly… familiar. It was the kind of Washington rain that had soundtracked her entire childhood, a comforting rhythm that made the world outside feel big, and the world inside feel cozy.

Azzi had always loved it, it was a noise that usually meant safety.

But tonight, that sense of familiar safety was complicated by a dizzying thought.

She was sixteen, nearly seventeen, lying in the same bed she’d grown up in. The pink and purple sheets still held the scent of chocolate milk and childhood; the Mystics posters still adorned the walls; the trophies on the dresser still shined in the lightning flashes.

Yet, in the dark, every detail felt new, charged by the unfamiliar presence next to her.

The difference was the, 6-feet-tall, impossibly blonde point-guard that laid beside her.

Her girlfriend, Paige Bueckers.

Azzi cataloged the little things that had suddenly colonized her space: The purple sneakers tucked neatly by the door, no longer just visiting equipment, but Paige’s shoes.

The small corner of Azzi’s dresser she had silently cleared for Paige’s things, a random stack of items that made it feel, against all previous logic, that Paige belonged in the Fudd’s house, too.

Her basketball crush now existed in the very center of her life, and her parents knew it.

That single thought gave place to a tremor beneath Azzi's skin. They weren’t just letting Paige sleep over as a friend; they were letting her sleep in Azzi’s bed because they trusted them.

This was what made it impossible for Azzi’s mind to settle.

She turned onto her side, studying Paige’s profile in the moonlight. Her blonde hair was a little messy, glasses still on, and her eyes were wide open.

Azzi blinked, realizing: Paige was awake too.

“Hey,” Azzi whispered, leaning closer.

“Hi,” Paige mumbled back. “You can’t sleep?”

“I was about to ask you that,” Azzi said. “You’re usually out cold by now.”

As if triggered by the conversation, thunder cracked, shaking the house. Paige jumped, just a little, her shoulders lifting instinctively.

Azzi watched the reaction and a slow, warm smile spread across her face.

“Wait… you’re afraid of storms?” she teased, her voice low. “The nonchalant final boss is scared of a little thunder?”

Paige sat up slightly, defensive in an instant “Shut up, bro. I’m not scared. We just don’t get storms like this in Minnesota. It’s usually snow, not…” Another thunderclap boomed outside, closer this time, and Paige flinched again “…not this.”

Azzi couldn’t help it, she laughed softly, reaching for Paige’s hand under the blanket.

The all-time High School scoring champion, reduced to a nervous mess by a little wind and water.

Azzi held the moment, letting it all sink in.

“Okay, you’re not afraid,” Azzi said gently “But I think storms are kind of… peaceful. Nothing better than reading while the rain’s going.”

“Bro, that sounds awful,” Paige muttered, biting her lip to hide the tiny smile.

“The rain or the book?”

“Both.” Paige chuckled, then looked down at their joined hands, her fidgeting hand now still.

“You can come closer if you want,” Azzi murmured, feeling a shift of power in the silence.

Paige raised her eyebrows, the playful bravado returning. “What, you suggesting I cuddle you to sleep because I’m scared of the big, bad rain? Like a little baby?”

Azzi grinned wider “I didn’t say all that, you said all that. I’m just saying… you can come closer, but if you want to come closer like a little baby, that’s cool too Paige”

“Shut up, bro.” Paige’s face flushed pink, but she shifted over with no hesitation.

They never really had a “system” for cuddling, but they always seemed to find the same spot: Paige flat on her back, Azzi tucked securely against her, head nestled in the crook of her neck. It always fit too perfectly to question.

Azzi breathed in the faint lemon scent that always seemed to cling to Paige, and Paige’s hand landed naturally on her shoulder, thumb tracing absent circles over the thin strap of Azzi’s tank top.

The storm raged outside, but Azzi’s voice was quiet, meant just for Paige “When I was younger, I was scared of storms too. I’d run to my parents’ room crying. Dad would always take me back downstairs, he’d say I had to be grown up, but he’d still lie with me until I fell asleep and brush my hair back. And then… one day I realized there was nothing to be afraid of”

Paige’s thumb slowed, the circles turning lazy and then still.

Azzi tilted her head to look up, and found Paige asleep already, grounded by the warmth of Azzi’s body.

Azzi tightened her arms around her, despite knowing she’d wake up sweaty.

The star who could handle arenas full of screaming fans, who faced down pressure on the court, had flinched at thunder, and she’d needed Azzi to hold her to keep her safe.

This little thing was worth waking up sweaty for.

2. Fangirl Behavior (2019, October, Hopkins)

Paige was stretched out on the couch, very aware of the WNBA Finals playing on the screen.

Washington Mystics versus Connecticut Sun. Winner-take-all.

But all of her attention was fixed on the carpet.

Her girlfriend was here, in Minnesota, in her living room.

Her parents had actually agreed to let Azzi fly in early for her birthday, a minor miracle. Paige didn't know if they were finally getting used to her "special friend," or if they'd simply run out of arguments, but she wasn’t going to overthink this.

Azzi was kneeling on the rug, planted so close to the TV it was like she could redirect a pass through looking at it. Her whole body was tense, pretty brown eyes wide, and then:

“Oh my god, that’s a foul! Are you serious right now?!”

Azzi Fudd was screaming.

Paige blinked, then pressed her face into her blanket to stifle a laugh. She had never heard Azzi raise her voice like that, not even during her own games, where her focus was always a kind of cool.

This unfiltered rage was funny, yes, but it was also, deeply adorable.

Azzi’s face was flushed, her hands flying as she gestured at the screen like the refs might somehow hear her

“The WNBA has the worst refs, I swear. Paige, did you see that?”

Paige nodded, though she hadn’t really been watching the play. She was watching Azzi: cross-legged on the carpet, hair already coming undone.

She sounds exactly like her dad. Paige thought

Every ounce of Tim Fudd was there in the way Azzi argued with the refs, and Paige could picture the whole Fudd family right then, clustered around the TV in Virginia, yelling just as loudly.

The thought made something thug hard at her chest.

The Bueckers house wasn’t like that, it was muted in ways the Fudds never were.

Paige loved her parents, but there wasn’t that same loud, messy overlap of voices, that easy, warmth that had made her feel so at home the first time she visited Azzi. Paige wanted that now, she wanted Azzi to be wrapped in all that noise and love that clearly meant so much to her.

Instead, she was here, in Minnesota, with parents who weren’t even home to watch the finals.

“Yes!” Azzi shouted when Cloud drained a three, then she whipped around, waiting for Paige’s approval.

Paige raised her hands in surrender, “Yeah, she’s cooking,” she confirmed, watching the strands of Azzi’s bun start to fall across her face.

Azzi spun back to the screen, voice cracking as she shouted again, and Paige thought: She’s never looked less cool in her life, and I’ve never loved her more.

When Emma Meesseman scored a layup, Azzi jumped like she’d made the shot herself.

She flopped backward onto the couch beside Paige, grabbing her hand like a lifeline “Don’t jinx it,” she muttered.

Paige tilted her head, noticing the tears in Azzi's eyes and the way her lips pressed together. “Are you… wait. Are you crying?”

“Shut up.” Azzi swiped her face, mortified by the exposure “I’m not crying.”

Paige squeezed her hand tighter “You are,” she confirmed gently.

Azzi groaned, burying her face in Paige’s shoulder for half a second before snapping back to the game.

And when the final buzzer officially sounded, when the Mystics had actually done it, Azzi exploded. She threw herself into Paige’s arms like the title belonged to her.

Paige held her close, laughing, because fuck, what else could she do?

Then came the calls.

The Fudds on speaker, yelling over one another, Tim’s booming voice cutting through the chaos, Katie already debating MVP, Azzi’s brothers chiming in from the back.

It was everything Paige had imagined, the warm, vibrant noise of the family Azzi should’ve been with tonight.

“Put Paige on!” Tim roared, and suddenly the phone was in her hand, Azzi smiling beside her.

“Hey,” Paige said, pink coloring into her cheeks. “Mystics looked really good tonight. I was cheering.”

“Really good?!” Tim shouted “They crushed it! She’s one of us now, Katie, we converted her!”

The whole family roared, voices tangling through the speaker, and Paige laughed along. Azzi leaned into her, arms tight around her waist, her face had an expression that Paige wanted to memorize forever.

In the noise, the truth hit Paige quietly: She was already part of this, even now sitting in Minnesota, she was celebrating with them. That was her family, too.

3. Fiddling with the hem (2022, Storrs)

Paige and Azzi had technically broken up in January, yet their bodies refused to acknowledge it.

They still touched and cuddled when no one was looking, still looked after each other in bed. The closeness, as always, was insane, but along with it came the cruelest condition: they were both seeing other people.

At least, Paige was sure Azzi was, and in fairness, that was the part eating her alive.

Paige Bueckers was loud about it. If she hooked up with a girl, the whole campus probably knew by morning. When Paige kissed a girl in the middle of a bar, or whispered into someone’s ear, or laughed too loudly, it was always a performance. It was meant to be seen.

But Azzi didn’t play those games.

She was quiet, private, and fucking unreadable. Ask anyone on campus who she was dating, and they’d shrug: Maybe no one.

And that silence was like a punishment to Paige, because every girl who walked out of Azzi’s comms class became a potential suspect, every text that made Azzi smile became a threat.

The first whisper slipped out when Caroline asked, too casually, if Azzi was going out that night. “Yeah,” Azzi said.

Caroline replied, “You can borrow my heels.”

Tall, Paige registered.

The person is tall. Damn it. Paige hated it.

Then came the final blow, the final blow into Paige’s fragile, jealous little ego.

The brutal piece of information, delivered in a conversation they had driving to the mall

Paige asked too casually “Okay, but what about your… boo?”

“Boo?” Azzi laughed, “Paige, please.”

“Dude, fine, the person you’re hooking up with, is she staying over next year at UConn?”

Azzi’s voice went quiet “Next year? Yeah, he’s staying.”

He.

Paige’s brain froze: It’s a guy.

She wanted to laugh, to wreck the fucking car into the rail just to feel something else.

She forced out, “Cool. Why didn’t you tell me?”

“You don’t tell me about yours,” Azzi shot back. And that was, unfortunately, fair.

All of this was leading to now: Paige showing up at Azzi’s dorm under the flimsy excuse of returning a pair of shorts, when in reality she just needed to see her. But when the door opened, all her carefully crafted jealousy and resentment vanished.

Azzi was sitting on the floor, her curls around her face, her eyes swollen and red. She looked broken in a way Paige had never seen before.

“Are you crying?” Paige asked, instantly regretting the useless question.

Azzi was gone, head in her hands, shoulders shaking, sobs ripping out of her.

Paige dropped to the floor, wrapping her up, “Oh my god, what happened? Are you hurt? Did someone… did he,” Paige’s voice sharpened dangerously. “Did he do something to you?”

Azzi shook her head “no”, crying harder, muffled words against Paige’s shirt. It took forever before she lifted her head, her face in pure panic.

“I did something awful. I’m so scared. Promise me you won’t judge me, please, Paige, promise me.”

She nodded without hesitation “I promise.”

“I think… I need to buy a pregnancy test.”

Paige felt cold.

Pregnant, the one part of Azzi’s future Paige had always imagined for them, suddenly gone, replaced by something she couldn’t compete with. The old cycle of jealousy and panic spun up, but all she saw was Azzi’s wrecked face.

“I’m not happy about this,” Azzi rushed on, panicked. “Please don’t think I am. I missed my period. It’s probably nothing, but”

Paige stood, feeling a solid certainty ground her in the room, and she pulled Azzi with her. “Okay, then we’ll buy the test, and make a doctor’s appointment. You don’t have to do this alone. I’ve got you.”

They drove in silence, and Azzi couldn’t even get out of the car at the grocery store. Paige walked in alone, cheeks burning, grabbing the test and, on autopilot, Azzi’s favorite chocolate bar.

It felt pathetic, Paige Bueckers buying a pregnancy test for the girl she still loved, who might be pregnant by another guy.

Back at the dorm, Azzi disappeared into the bathroom, and when she came out, she sat next to Paige, knees bouncing, her hands shaking as she relentlessly twisted the hem of her shorts, fiddling with the fabric until it looked warped and twisted. The same nervous tic Paige remembered from the first time they met on that airplane.

This is how fear manifests in her, Paige thought

Paige took her hand, steadying her “Whatever happens, it’s going to be okay. I’m here.”

Azzi nodded but couldn’t look at the stick when the timer buzzed, so she pushed it toward Paige,“You check.”

Paige looked, then turned back, her voice calm. “You’re not. You’re okay.”

Azzi collapsed into her, sobbing with relief, “Thank you, God, thank you, thank you.” Paige held her, smoothing her hair.

“You should tell him,” Paige said eventually

“I’m not talking to him anymore,” Azzi said, shaking her head. “He’s not… he’s not good. I don’t want to be around him, that’s part of why I panicked so much.”

Paige pressed a kiss to her hair without thinking, the gesture automatic, protective. “Then he’s an idiot.”

Azzi gave a weak laugh.

“We’ll still see a doctor, just to be safe,” Paige continued. “But Azzi, listen to me, if this had gone the other way… if you were pregnant… I’d still be here. For you. For them.”

Azzi melted into her arms again, hugging her, because she knew Paige meant it.

And for the first time in weeks, Paige wasn’t jealous, she just knew: whatever this was, and whatever it turned into, she was Azzi’s

Unconditionally.

4. Spelling (2038, Minneapolis)

Azzi had thought a lot about what life would look like after basketball.

For years, people had told her retirement was brutal, that athletes without the rhythm of practice and games grew restless and lost.

But Azzi wasn’t restless.

She’d checked every box she ever wanted: WNBA championship and Olympic gold. The 2036 season had been her masterpiece, the title with the Lynx, the medal in Santiago, the MVP award finally in her hands.

All of it had felt like the universe gently saying: That’s enough. You’ve done it.

And so, she had turned her focus to something else she’d always dreamed of: her family.

Now, mornings were not for shootarounds but for packing healthy lunches, braiding hair, and wiping baby food off nine-month-old Diana’s cheeks.

Maya, smart as always, was starting elementary school early, while Diana, very much like Azzi had been as a baby, was attached to her mother at the hip.

Meanwhile, Paige was still in the thick of her own career, and sometimes Azzi could see the faint guilt behind her eyes. It wasn’t that Paige wasn’t present; she was.

But she feared Maya would notice the absences.

Azzi never thought that, God, she knew Paige gave everything she could. And Paige always tried, always looked for the little ways to leave her mark, to make their girls feel her, even when she wasn’t physically there.

That was why, one perfect September morning, while Azzi was preoccupied with Diana’s oatmeal, Paige quietly packed Maya’s lunch. The apple slices were uneven, and the note tucked inside had Paige’s signature messy and rushed handwriting.

Azzi noticed the small imperfections, the little things that betrayed Paige’s effort, and she didn’t say anything.

So when Maya burst through the door that afternoon, her grin was triumphant, immediately running over to where Paige was sitting in the living room.

“Mommy! Thank you for my lunch today!”

Paige looked genuinely stunned “You knew it was me, munchkin?”

Maya beamed, clutching her lunchbox. “The note”

Azzi folded her arms, trying not to laugh, holding Diana against her hip

“The note?” Paige asked, confused. “You can tell my handwriting from Mama’s already?”

Maya shook her head. “No. You wrote ‘your my favorite girl in the world’ instead of you are. Mama wouldn’t write that.”

Azzi broke first, laughter spilling out of her, and Paige turned bright red, burying her face in her hands.

“Oh my god.”

Diana babbled along from Azzi’s hip.

Azzi came over and touched Paige’s shoulder, still smiling, her voice warm with affection. “It’s perfect like this.”

“Even though I can’t spell?” Paige muttered into her palms

“Especially because you can’t spell,” Azzi said, kissing her temple. “It means you wrote it.”

Later that night, Azzi lay in bed beside Paige, holding her close as thunder rattled the windows. This storm was quieter, the flashes of lightning less jarring than in Washington.

Paige slept more easily in her arms.

Azzi smiled into the dark. She remembered Paige holding her tight under the pink and purple sheets of her childhood room.

And after all these years, it was still little things like this, that she loved most about Paige.

aboutwhitechocolate535

Sep 25, 2025

azzinator

Azzi is a Scorpio (whatever that means)

Words: 10.7 K

Tags: Slice-of-life / Fluff / Smut (Chapter 5) / Angst (Chapter 4) / Growing up / Marriage

Summary: Intuitive, reserved, honest, jealous, intense, possessive, and loyal Azzi Fudd might not know what being a Scorpio actually means, but damn if she doesn’t embody it perfectly.

April, 2014 (Arlington County, Virginia)

The whole room smelled like bubblegum, the good kind.

That was the very first thing Azzi noticed when she sat on Alyssa’s carpet. It was bubblegum and something faintly citric, maybe the moisturizer Alyssa bragged about bringing back from Victoria’s Secret.

Her room was aggressively girlish, filled to the brim with posters of white teenage boys and glitter that got under your fingernails and stayed there for days.

Azzi didn’t really know why she was here.

Well, she knew why, her mom had urged her to go. “You never do anything outside of sports, Azzi, you should go, make friends, try something new.”

It wasn’t the worst idea in theory, but now, here, surrounded by girls who rarely even looked her way at school and she felt very lost.

Azzi’s neighborhood was white (like, really white) and sitting here made her feel it even more.

All the other girls’ hair was so smooth, flat, barely a flyaway anywhere, like it just… listened to them. Azzi’s never did, no matter what her mom put in it, no matter how much she tried to smooth it down before coming over, it always seemed stubborn, sticking up in little ways that made her feel annoyed.

Azzi never felt as black as she did at these sleepovers, not in a bad way exactly, but in a way that underlined how different she was.

It wasn’t that she didn’t have friends in the neighborhood, she had Colleen, the basketball girls, and Connie, the one person in this room who didn’t make her feel self-conscious.

But this? Alyssa’s friends, with their whispers about reality shows and celebrity scandals? Azzi couldn’t shake the feeling that they didn’t actually like her.

They liked her height because it was something to comment on, they liked that she was “good at sports” as if it was a party trick, but did they like her? No, it didn’t feel like that.

She smoothed her pajama pants, trying not to draw attention.

Everyone else sprawled across the bed, flipping through teen magazines, their voices overlapping as they dissected the latest episode of Pretty Little Liars, which Azzi hadn’t seen and wasn’t allowed to see.

Her parents still kept her in the Disney Channel bubble of reruns of Austin & Ally and Selena Gomez songs on repeat, all the sparkly, safe stuff they approved of. She didn’t really mind when she was at home, but here, sitting in a room full of girls who talked like they were already in high school, she felt younger, like she hadn’t caught up yet.

So when they asked if she’d seen the new episode, she nodded quickly. “Yeah, totally,”

The conversation drifted into horoscopes, and Azzi felt her eyes roll, she never really got astrology.

And sure enough, Marianne turned toward her with a grin, eyes sharp like she’d been waiting for this moment. “Azzi, you’re a Scorpio, right?”

Azzi blinked “Uh, I think so. November 11.”

“Yeah, Scorpio”

The magazine was flipped open, “Scorpios are…”

Marianne read, pausing dramatically. “Intuitive. Reserved. Honest. Jealous. Intense. Possessive. Loyal.”

Azzi frowned, annoyed. That sounded like… everyone, or no one.

Feeling a little brave, Azzi said: “That’s kind of general though. Could apply to anybody.”

Connie, curled up at the foot of the bed, tugging at her pajama strings, and gave her a look. “I think you’re intuitive, though.”

Azzi turned, surprised.

“Remember when we were watching Twilight, and you said Kristen Stewart looks like she would kiss girls?” Connie grinned. “You were right.”

The whole room burst into giggles, and Azzi felt her face burn.

That was something she’d whispered to Connie years ago, when they were little and watching the movie in Connie’s basement. It wasn’t supposed to be a story to toss out in front of everyone like some inside joke.

Hearing it here, in front of girls who already made her feel like the odd one out, put Azzi to wonder if Connie really was as solid as she thought, well, friends were supposed to guard secrets, not use them like punchlines.

Maybe Connie was just trying to look cool in front of Alyssa, and Azzi hated how that thought made her feel.

They flipped more pages. “Ooooh, it says Scorpio's best match is Pisces,” Marianne squealed. “Okay, Azzi, your celebrity crush is Justin Bieber!”

Every girl sighed, envious

“Ugh, lucky,” Rebecca whined. “I wish mine was Justin Bieber.”

Azzi forced a smile, she didn’t care that much about Bieber, but if she admitted her real crushes was Ross Lynch, it would sound childish at best.

“What about you guys?” Azzi asked, trying to avoid the conversation.

“Robert Pattinson,” Connie offered, giving a satisfied smile.

The others chimed in with similar answers, and then Alyssa wrinkled her nose. “Kristen Stewart is crazy, though. Who cheats on Robert Pattinson? Like, are you insane?”

“Yeah, and now she’s dating a girl. I think it’s evil to date a guy when you know you’re a lesbian” Marianne added.

Azzi stiffened “She’s not a lesbian,” she said before she could stop herself, “She’s bisexual.”

Saying the word bisexual in this room felt like saying something completely insane, thankfully the others didn’t notice her flush.

“Well, if she broke up with Robert Pattinson for a girl,” Alyssa replied, “She’s definitely a lesbian”

The whole room was in laughter, even Connie giggled nervously, but Azzi didn’t laugh.

She was tired, tired of the way they spoke, tired of the way they made her feel

She thought rebelliously: If I was dating Robert Pattinson, I would leave him for Kristen Stewart.

She didn’t say that though, never in that room.

But Azzi did think Kristen Stewart was cute, certainly too cute to be stuck between those two boys in Twilight. To her, Kristen always seemed like she didn’t belong in that triangle, she was cooler than either of them.

She didn’t know what to do with that yet, so instead of saying anything, she kept quiet, and fixed her eyes on the magazine pages.

Alyssa and Marianne were already starting to feel like the wrong kind of girls, Azzi couldn’t explain it, something about their voices, the way they made “bisexual” sound like a punchline.

Her gut whispered watch out.

Astrology still seemed silly to her, but “intuitive”? That part, maybe, fit

Because that night, in Alyssa’s room, Azzi trusted her intuition, and it was right.

July, 2018 (Leon, Mexico)

Azzi Fudd sat alone at a small circular table, her fork spearing a cherry tomato.

The dining hall was very loud with the noise of teenage girls from Team USA, but for her, the sound blurred into the background. Azzi had always been good at tuning things out when she wanted, blocking out distractions, finding her own little peace.

The salad in front of her wasn’t anything special: crisp lettuce, tomatoes, cucumber slices, a drizzle of ranch. Still, she ate it slowly, this gave her something to do with her hands.

Fifteen, she was fifteen now.

She still couldn’t wrap her head around it, that sounded older than she felt, the age belonged to someone more put together, someone who already knew herself completely.

Fifteen meant kissing a girl and realizing it wasn’t just curiosity, it was her.

Her fork slowed and her eyes, like they had a mind of their own, drifted across the dining hall. There, in the middle of the loudest, brightest corner of the room, was Paige Bueckers.

She was hard to miss.

Her blonde hair pulled back in a loose ponytail, strands flying out like they couldn’t keep up with her. Paige was performing something (an impression, maybe) her arms moving dramatically and her voice so damn loud.

Around her, Fran and Aliyah leaned into each other, dying with laughter. The sound rolled through the dining hall and reached Azzi in her quiet corner.

Azzi’s lips twitched into a smile she didn’t even mean to make. God Paige was ridiculous, so loud, so messy, overwhelming in a way Azzi could never imagine being.

She’s so different from me, Azzi thought, the smile still there. And yet, somehow, they had found each other in messy kisses, and making out in secrecy on the team bus.

It still made her cheeks burn when she thought about it, not from regret, never, but from how wild it was, kissing Paige Bueckers.

They didn’t talk about it, not really.

Didn’t talk about what it meant, why it was secret, or whether it had to stay that way. To Azzi it was an agreement they both understood without needing to put words to it.

Across the room, Paige’s gaze leaned on her and for a split second, her noise seemed to dim. Paige grinned, said something Azzi couldn’t hear, then broke away from the group and began walking straight toward her.

Every step sent a spark through Azzi’s chest and she forced her eyes back down to her salad, stabbing a piece of lettuce like she was interested.

But when Paige slid into the chair across from her, all confidence and bright blue eyes, Azzi felt the silly little butterflies.

“What do you want?” Azzi asked, aiming for nonchalance, but her voice cracked.

“You’re sitting all by yourself,” Paige said, her tone somewhere between concern and scolding. “Why don’t you join us? The fun table.”

God, that was Paige in a nutshell, always drawing people into her orbit. The idea of someone choosing to sit alone was foreign to her.

For Azzi, that was second nature.

“I’m fine, not lonely,” Azzi replied, giving a small shrug. Then, Azzi added softly, “But you can sit here if you want.”

Paige rolled her eyes but smiled as she pulled the chair closer, tucking her knees up. “So here I am, sitting down just to watch you eat grass. That’s how much I like you.”

Azzi’s cheeks warmed instantly, she lowered her head, poking at the cucumbers “Be quiet. People can hear you.”

“No, they can’t,” Paige said

“You underestimate how loud you are,” Azzi said “I could hear you from across the room.”

Paige smirked, leaning in “Maybe you’re just trying to hear me because you’re obsessed.”

Azzi shook her head, but her smile gave her away. “You’d know about being obsessed, wouldn’t you? Seeing as you’re here with me instead of them.”

It was Paige’s turn to blush, the tips of her ears turning pink. For all her bravado, Paige always crumbled when Azzi tossed a compliment her way.

The blonde, determined to hide the blush, launched into a rapid-fire rant about the WNBA, the Lynx and Maya Moore. Her words spilled fast, each sentence on top of the next, like she couldn’t get them out quick enough.

Azzi half listened and half stared at Paige's pretty face.

Being there with all the girls also felt strange, almost unreal, she found herself stealing glances at Paige’s hands, remembering how soft and warm they had been when they’d touched her neck.

It was surreal, feeling this grown-up, this exposed in her own skin. She forced herself to look down at her plate again, but when her gaze wandered back to the main table, she caught sight of the girls.

Fran, Aliyah, Cam, a couple others, all casting glances their way. Not judgmental, just expectant, like they were waiting for Paige to come back and light up the room again.

Azzi swallowed, her fork suddenly heavy in her hand.

Paige loved being in the center of it all, she needed that noise. Azzi knew it.

“Let’s go over there,” Azzi said suddenly, standing with her salad bowl.

Paige blinked, surprised. “You don’t have to.”

“I want to,” Azzi said, and she did.

So they crossed the room together, Paige slipping effortlessly back into her outgoing self while Azzi settled into a quieter spot beside Aliyah Boston.

Aliyah shot her a warm smile “Hi Azzi. Is Paige bothering you?”

“She always is,” Azzi joked, and the table erupted with laughter.

Even Paige laughed, touching her knee under the table.

The conversation kept going around them.

Normally, Azzi would’ve shut down, like she always did in groups. But here, something felt different, she just had to listen, and she was good at that.

And through it all, Paige didn’t push her, didn’t demand she jump into the chatter. She just existed, talking and laughing and brushing her arm against Azzi’s every now and then like a reminder that she was there.

In Paige’s noise, Azzi didn’t feel lost.

December, 2018 (Arlington County, Virginia)

For Azzi Fudd, the truth wasn’t just a concept, it was everything she stood for.

She had been honest to a fault ever since she was eight, already tall for her age but still way too small for the part her parents wanted her to play. They pushed her into the older girls’ softball league and convinced she could hold her own.

When coach Raymond, clipboard in hand, asked her age in his strange nasally voice, the lie couldn’t leave in her throat. Azzi was supposed to say twelve, but instead, she looked him dead in the eye and said, “I’m eight.”

Her parents couldn’t even scold her, how could they? Azzi was just telling the truth.

And that was Azzi Fudd, incapable of lying, God, even if she tried, her dimples would betray her anyway, deepening in a way that screamed: that’s complete fucking bullshit.

She hated lies almost as much as she hated misunderstandings.

And that brings her to Paige Bueckers, because what she had with Paige? Well, it was the biggest, messiest misunderstanding of all.

Paige was in her house now, blonde hair pulled back in a loose bun, wrapped in Azzi’s hoodie, the purple one Azzi kept folded in a special drawer, just for her.

It was New Year’s, and Paige was spending it with the Fudds instead of her own family, caught once again between her parents wreck of a relationship, tugged back and forth by their bitterness over each other.

Poor girl, Azzi thought, watching her laugh with her dad by the grill.

Azzi couldn’t imagine life without the anchor of her parents' love. Maybe that’s why this “undefined thing” with Paige felt so wrong, because in every way that mattered, they were already together.

They slept in the same bed, kissed in Azzi’s room until laughter spilled out and “just kissing” stopped being “just kissing”.

Paige whispered princess against her cheek, and Azzi answered with a thousand tiny kisses, her hands memorizing every line of Paige’s skin. So why did her chest ache every time Paige hesitated to name what they were?

Why did the truth feel just out of reach?

From the kitchen, helping her mom and José, Azzi’s eyes kept straying to the backyard. She didn’t want to push Paige, didn’t want to risk breaking something so fragile and important.

But damn, Azzi wanted to say it: What are we? What do you want me to call you?

Her mother’s hand tugged lightly at her shorts, pulling them lower, and Azzi flushed at the reminder of how much leg she was showing, as if she didn’t already feel self-conscious.

Her hair, too, always the hair.

For years it had been condemned to be tied in a bun or pressed straight, the heat burns from the hot comb still in her neck.

Growing up in Arlington, she’d learned to think of her curls as a problem. But Paige, Paige loved them. She told Azzi so in their late-night talks, how beautiful her curls were, how much she adored them.

And slowly, Azzi was starting to believe her.

Some days it still felt messy, but then Paige would glance at her and say, “Your hair looks really pretty today,” and Azzi would grin and answer, “Yours too.”

And it always did.

Paige’s hair was golden blonde and always shining, always pretty, as pretty as her.

And Paige was so gorgeous.

Gorgeous even when she dressed like a teenage boy, Azzi thought, perhaps especially when she dressed like a teenage boy.

Azzi wanted this girl to be her girlfriend, badly.

She just didn’t know how to ask without scaring her off, even though she gave every sign.

It was overwhelming.

The feeling became too much, so she left the kitchen, heading outside, maybe talking to Paige would help.

But before she could even process the thought, Paige was walking toward her, leaving her father to the burgers.

Paige put a hand on her waist, “Your hair looks good,” she said, a simple statement that made Azzi's eyes fill with water.

Fuck, it was too much, a single tear escaped.

“Is everything okay? What happened?” Paige asked, her voice filled with concern.

“I don’t know,” Azzi whispered, the words stopping in her throat. “I don’t know what to do.”

Paige, without a word, guided her to the porch, a quiet corner of the house.

They sat down.

“Did something happen?” Paige asked again, her hand resting on Azzi’s thigh.

“I’m fine,” Azzi said, but the single tear on her cheek told a different story.

I have to address this, she thought. Now.

It felt weird, almost predatory, to bring it up when Paige was a guest in her house, but she had to.

“I don’t know what we’re doing,” Azzi spilled out. “I just…”

Paige didn’t pull away, she just listened.

The words came out in a rush, “Are you… am I your girlfriend? Or at least… Do you think I’m a girlfriend?” The question hung in the air, and Azzi was already apologizing. “I’m sorry. I don’t want to talk about this. It feels weird.”

Paige’s hand tightened on her thigh, she was blushing, a soft red color spreading in her cheeks.

Paige’s voice was quiet. “I thought I was going to be the one to ask, but if you want me to be your girlfriend, I can be your girlfriend. I would love for you to be my girlfriend, too.”

A weight lifted from Azzi’s shoulders, and she let out a breath “Oh, Okay.”

“I’m sorry I didn’t ask before,” Paige continued “I don’t really know how we’re doing this, but I don’t know what to tell my parents or how they would react. Everything’s a mess at home, my dad is fighting with my mom, and my mom is fighting with my stepmom, and my stepmom is fighting with my dad.”

Azzi put her hand on Paige’s, looking at her in the sunlight. Paige looked so much younger at that moment.

“I’m not asking you to be my girlfriend for the world to see,” Azzi said, her voice steady. “I’m just asking if I’m your girlfriend. That’s for you and me, that’s between the two of us.”

Paige lowered her head, she was still blushing. She always was when they talked about "them."

“Between the two of us? Fuck, I thought we were girlfriends the first time we kissed. I just didn’t want to call you my girlfriend if I wasn't able to tell my parents, but if you’re okay with that…”

“I’m okay with that,” Azzi said, “You don’t have to tell anyone. I just wanted to know if you wanted that.”

Paige looked at her, and the playfulness returned to her eyes. “Bro, I don’t want to scare you or anything, but if we’re talking about what we want it, I would go on my own one knee right now and ask you to marry me.”

Azzi laughed out loud, “You’re so stupid.”

“I’m being serious,” Paige insisted, she was.

But Azzi decided to ignore the deeper meaning of Paige’s words for now.

“I do want to be your girlfriend,” Azzi said, the truth feeling like a warm as always.

“Okay,” Paige said, smiling, relief on her face.

“Okay,” Azzi agreed, a matching smile spreading across her face. “But can we tell my parents?”

Paige’s eyes widened. “Do you think they’ll be…?”

“They already know,” Azzi said, “I think they would be happy if it was official, they love you.”

Paige smiled to herself “They do.”

Her voice got quieter, a little thick with emotion. “Thank you, for them, for having me here.” A single tear of her own fell.

“Everything’s so messy, it makes things so much easier, you have no idea how much.”

Azzi leaned in and kissed her cheek, “Well, I like to make things easier with you. You have me, and if you treat me well, then you have my parents too. Believe me.”

Paige looked at her, “I always plan on treating you well.” She paused, “I’m planning on treating you well for the rest of your life.”

“Well, then,” Azzi said, a little out of breath “Then you better get used to my father making jokes, because you’re going to have to hear them for the rest of your life.”

October, 2023 (Storrs, Connecticut)

Azzi really didn’t want to do this, she didn’t want to escalate things. Not tonight, not ever again, and especially not with this girl.

But the sight of Paige Bueckers leaning across a bar counter to talk to a girl made Azzi want to throw up.

Paige was exactly herself: glasses shoved up on her head, a crop top and low-rise jeans with her boxers peeking above the waistband. She was smiling up a storm, laughing with another girl.

A girl who was clearly, obviously flirting. And Paige? She wasn’t just tolerating it, she was loving it.

Azzi knew Paige liked the attention, always had. She enjoyed herself a little ego boost, a little hit of validation.

But that didn’t make it easier to watch.

Azzi lingered in the corner, arms folded tight. She didn’t want a fight, and this would be the second time they fought about this exact girl.

The first time, Paige had laughed in her face. “She’s not flirting with me, bro. You’re going crazy.” Jealous and irrational, that’s how Paige made her feel.

Except now here they were again…same girl, same smile, same bar.

Azzi’s patience snapped.

She considered playing the game she usually did, flirting with someone else to even the scales, but the thought exhausted her.

No more fucking games, she was too annoyed.

So Azzi walked over, not to make a scene, just to plant herself where she belonged. Right next to her girlfriend.

“Oh, hi,” Azzi said settling into the seat. “What’s up?”

Paige’s body stopped like she’d been caught. She straightened herself pulling back from the counter, her energy shifting, the guilt was instant.

“Oh, hi,” Paige's voice a little too high.

“Hi, how are you?” the girl added.

Azzi turned to her with a cool smirk. “I know your name, Sofia, you went to Hopkins with Paige.”

The Sofia’s expression faltered. “Yeah. We… know each other from Hopkins.”

“She didn’t play basketball,” Azzi said, not a question but a fact. “Volleyball, right?”

Sofia nodded. “Yeah. Volleyball.”

The silence was almost suffocating, and Azzi let it sit, she could see Paige squirming at the edges of it.

Good, Azzi thought. You know you were doing something wrong.

“You don’t have to be like that,” Paige muttered.

Azzi’s blood went cold. Gaslighting her was one thing in the privacy of their dorm room. But in front of this girl? That was a line.

Her chair made a loud noise as she shoved it back and stood up. She wasn’t staying, and she wasn’t fighting (not here).

Paige reached for her arm, but Azzi pulled away and headed for the door. She didn’t need to look back to know Paige would follow, that was always how it went, like a guilty puppy walking after her.

“Bro, why are you mad? I didn’t even do anything,” Paige called after her, just as Azzi had expected.

Azzi stopped in her tracks, her back still to Paige, and her voice was sharp: “I didn’t accuse you of anything.”

By the time they reached the car, Paige slid into the driver’s seat, fingers gripping the wheel, her jaw tight with frustration.

“I’m not driving,” she said finally, turning toward Azzi, “until you say what’s going on.”

Azzi laughed annoyedly. “Oh, I’m not saying what’s going on until you say what was going on. Because what was going on? You were flirting with a girl in front of me”

“I was not flirting!” Paige snapped.

“Paige, you were.” Azzi was already exhausted, “Don’t, don’t even. I don’t even want to get into this. I think it’d be better for both of us, and for our relationship, if you just admitted you were doing something wrong. Because you are a flirty person, and you were doing that in front of me.”

“I was not even flirting!” Paige’s voice shot up a notch.

“Paige, I know you were! Stop doing that!” Azzi’s own voice rose with hers, her chest tightening.

She hated this, the way tears burned when Paige kept denying something she knew was true.

“You’re being way too much, Azzi,” Paige said, sharp. “Do you think that’s an appropriate reaction?”

I’m going crazy, she thought. So Azzi swung for the low blow.

“Is she one of the girls you hooked up with before I came here?”

Silence as Paige’s face hardened, then split into a scream. “Don’t fucking DO that! You said we were over that!”

“I am over that! I’m just asking!”

“No, you are not over that! Because every single time we’re in a club and a girl flirts with me, you start with your jealous bullshit! You ask if I hooked up with her in, like, fucking 2021!” Paige’s voice furious.

“No, I didn’t hook up with her, Azzi! I hooked up with two girls. And you know who they are! And you’ve hooked up with people too! Do you think I go after the girls and guys you’ve hooked up with? Do I keep bothering them? No!” She was screaming now, fists hitting the wheel. “But you’re bothering me!”

Azzi just stared at her, almost laughing at the absurdity. “I’m bothering you? You were flirting with this girl in front of me, and now suddenly you’re screaming at me? This is crazy.”

Paige threw her hands up, exhausted. “I wasn’t flirting! I was just talking to her, and I don’t even know if she likes girls.”

“She likes girls!” Azzi yelled, her frustration spilling over. “And they don’t have to like girls to like you, Paige!”

“You’re acting like I’m giving them a shot! I’m not! I was just talking to this girl!”

“Your body was completely bowed over the counter!”

“Oh, now you analyze body language, Azzi? Great! Great!”

“Paige, I don’t need to be an expert on body language! Anyone there would think the two of you were flirting!”

Paige deflated a little, tired. “I don’t know… I think you’re being… surreal.”

Azzi looked away, blinking back tears she couldn’t swallow anymore.

“How do you think I feel?” she whispered, the words heavy in her throat. “How do you think I feel? That’s what I want to know.”

Paige leaned back, her fight dying out.

Azzi’s voice cracked as she kept going. “You’re just talking about yourself, but what about me? How stupid do you think I feel when I’m standing in the club by myself, when my girlfriend’s talking to some pretty girl at the bar for, like, half an hour, while I’m just, just standing there?” The tears broke through now, humiliating, she hated it.

Paige was quiet.

“How do you think I feel when I’m in a hoodie and shorts, and you’re leaning into the prettiest fucking girl in the room?” Azzi’s voice shattered.

“Azzi, I’m not…”

“You are!” Azzi shot back. “You are, and you’re talking to her like she’s a new species, and I’m in the fucking corner, watching, and then when I say I’m mad, you call me insane?”

Paige rolled her eyes, trying for calm. “That’s not…what are you even talking about? You’re the prettiest girl in the room.”

“Paige, shut up!” Azzi snapped, throwing the door open.

The cold December air touched her cheeks as she stepped out of the car.

She walked fast, away from the car, her arms trembling. Behind her, Paige’s voice screamed out across the lot.

“Azzi, you need to stop doing that! That’s, like, the third time we fight and you leave the car! That is a crazy thing to do!”

They were still in the parking lot so Azzi kept walking, hot tears running down her face, now that she didn’t have to hold them back.

She could hear Paige behind her, footsteps, then that urgent voice chasing her across the asphalt.

“Azzi! I need…Stop. We can talk about this, you don’t have to run away! What the fuck even is this? I’m just following you around the street, like a...”

“Like what? Like a crazy person, Paige?” Azzi snapped without looking back.

“You know what? Actually, yeah. It’s like a crazy person, because what are you doing? We can’t fight like regular people?” Paige couldn't hold back her words.

Azzi’s legs finally surrendered, she stopped, because maybe she really was insane.

She let herself collapse, sobbing, the kind that broke through the chest and lungs and made her feel small. Paige came up to her, arms open for a hug, but Azzi shoved her away like reflex.

Paige stood there, stunned, waiting. “Do you want to go back to the car?” she asked, voice small for the first time.

Azzi nodded, exhausted.

She went back to the passenger seat, folded into herself with her face in her hands.

Paige climbed into the driver’s seat and was suddenly very quiet. “Okay. Can I talk now?” she asked.

“No,” Azzi said “I really don’t want to.”

“You said a lot of stuff, Azzi.”

“I know. I was being crazy.”

“You were not.” Paige snapped, then tried again. “I’m sorry I said that. I’m sorry for… I’m sorry for what I was doing. I wasn’t flirting. I was just…enjoying the attention.”

Azzi blinked, head jerking up. The admission cut through her, she dropped her face back into her hands and sobbed again, softer now.

“It wasn’t…please. It wasn’t like that,” Paige stammered, trying to explain. “I wasn’t planning on doing anything. I like the attention and I was wrong, so fucking wrong. I’m sorry, I’m actually sorry.”

Azzi leaned back against the seat, exhausted. “Fine,” she said, the word flat. “Thanks for admitting it.”

Paige reached toward Azzi’s chin as if to tilt her face up, but Azzi pulled away. “No,” she said “Don’t. I don’t want to look at you right now, I’m a mess. Go back to the bar and flirt with the pretty girl, if that’s what you want.”

“Stop” Paige’s voice came out sharp and hurt. “I’m sorry, but what the fuck are you talking about? That girl is not even my type.”

Azzi shook her head

Then, Paige rushed forward, voice raw and urgent. “Azzi, from the first time I kissed you, I saw myself marrying you. I’m not joking. I’ve told you this. I want to spend my life with you, do you want me to get down on my knees right now? I will. Do you want that?”

“Paige, please.” Azzi’s voice was threadbare.

“Do you not understand? I need you to understand this!” Paige’s tears began to fall. “I don’t care about anything else…God, I’m sorry”

Azzi, who had been angry enough to make Paige cry, felt a stab of guilt.

She still couldn’t bring herself to look straight at Paige.

“Why are you not looking at me?” Paige asked, devastated. “I know you’re mad.”

“I’m not that mad,” Azzi said, “I’m… hurt.”

“I’m obsessed with you.” Paige’s voice wavered “In any room I walk into with you, you’re the only one I’m looking at"

“I’m sorry,” Paige said again, throat raw. “I fucked up. You’re right to be mad.”

“I am,” Azzi said, and this time it felt true.

For a beat, it felt like the fight was over, exhaustion winning over both of them.

Then Paige did the thing she always did when she needed to close the gap: she reached in and wrapped Azzi up tight.

The hug was desperate, Azzi felt Paige’s body shake against her, and heard the repeated, small “I love you”s against her shoulder.

Azzi let herself be held as she cried into Paige’s shoulder until the sound evened out into a relieved sob.

When they pulled back, Paige cupped Azzi’s face and kissed her “You’re perfect,” she whispered. “You’re the most perfect person in the world to me.”

“I love you,” Azzi said back, the words were steady now. “And you do treat me well. I just…don’t do this again.”

“Anything,” Paige promised, “Anything you tell me not to do, I won’t.”

Azzi let out a shaky laugh. “Was that too intense?”

Paige smiled, that goffy grin Azzi adored “Yeah, but I survived.” Then she gave Azzi that look, the one that said Paige was about to say something ridiculous “I can handle you, princess. Don’t worry.”

Azzi smiled “Shut up”

July, 2026 (Las Vegas, Nevada)

For everyone else, the after-party for the 2026 All-Stars was a celebration. For Azzi, it was a war.

Azzi wasn’t in a celebratory mood, fuck no, she was in a jealous mood. She’d seen the way the rookie, Paige’s rookie, looked at her. God, it was that specific look, the one that said: I can have her.

And Azzi hated it.

She was used to girls falling all over Paige, who wouldn’t? Paige was beautiful. Azzi was proud of that, proud of the fact that she got to be the one holding Paige’s hand. But some of those girls needed to be reminded: wanting Paige wasn’t the same as being capable of having her.

The only person who had Paige Bueckers was Azzi Fudd. And tonight, she was going to make sure everybody knew it.

For once, she hadn’t let Paige pick her outfit. The dress was black, tiny, short enough to make her legs look endless, tight enough to leave nothing to the imagination. It reminded her of the one she’d worn at Paige’s draft, the one that had Paige staring holes through her all night.

No heels, she knew Paige would prefer that. This wasn’t about annoying her, this was about making her obsessed.

When she finally walked out, Paige’s head snapped up. The blonde was in a leather jacket over a white button-up, her hair pulled into a ponytail, makeup soft and simple. She looked stupidly gorgeous, and as usual effortlessly cool.

“Fuck,” Paige breathed, eyes looking shamelessly over Azzi’s body. “Okay, so you’re leaving with that?”

Azzi smirked. “Yeah, and you’re leaving with that.”

Paige laughed, but her gaze lingered too long. “What’s the goal here?”

“We’re meeting your rookie, right?”

“She has a name, bro.”

“I don’t care about her name,” Azzi said flatly

Azzi stepped close, hands sliding onto Paige’s shoulders. “She’s all over you, and that’s fine. As long as I’m the only one who gets it.”

Paige threw her head back, blushing, grinning. “Mama, you’re the only one, be sure.”

She reached for Azzi’s waist, but Azzi pulled back with a wicked smile. “Now let’s find your rookie. I’m not jealous.” They both knew it was a lie. “I just want to make sure she knows who she’s talking to.”

Paige’s laugh followed her all the way to the door.

The rookie was waiting there. Cute, blonde, not even Paige’s type, which only made Azzi’s jealousy worse, because the girls who weren’t Paige’s type were the ones who tried hardest.

The rookie hugged Paige, so Azzi hugged her girlfriend too, except her hands were all over Paige’s back, “You look so hot,” Azzi said loudly, “I can’t believe I get to walk in with you.”

Paige flushed, embarrassed by public compliments, but Azzi just kept going.

“God, I’m having a drink at the party,” Paige muttered, trying to distract herself.

“What are you drinking, Paige?” the rookie asked.

“I don’t know. Something strong.” Paige’s voice came out a little too breathless as Azzi’s hand tightened around hers.

When they finally arrived, the crowd swallowed Paige instantly. MVP, darling of the season, everybody wanted her. Normally, Azzi would be proud, maybe even endeared.

But not tonight, tonight she wasn’t interested in sharing, tonight she just wanted Paige to herself.

So Azzi slipped away, grabbing a drink while Paige was mobbed by players and fans. She told herself she was being childish, that she should let Paige have her moment, but then she looked up and froze.

Three girls, all long hair and model smiles, clustered around Paige. They leaned in too close, laughed too loudly and touched way, way too easily.

Paige noticed it too, her shoulders tightened.

In truth, Paige and Azzi were complete opposites when it came to jealousy. Paige swallowed it down and Azzi wore it like a badge.

The brunette cut through the crowd, eyes locked on Paige and she didn’t so much as glance at the girls.

“Paige,” Azzi said, “There you are.”

Paige rolled her eyes, a small smile at her lips. This girl knew exactly what was coming.

Azzi’s hand slid to Paige’s neck, pulling her forward into a kiss. Not a shy one, hell no, a statement kiss, a claim of ownership. Her fingers threaded into Paige’s hair and Paige’s hands found her waist, grounding her steady but smiling into it.

They were kissing in the middle of a crowded party, and being fair, that was exactly the point.

The kiss deepened as Azzi bit her lower lip, Paige groaned softly, tightening her grip on Azzi’s waist. When Azzi finally pulled back satisfied, the girls were gone, the kiss had said everything.

Paige was breathless. “Damn,” she almost laughing. “I really like you when you’re jealous”

Azzi smirked, hands still on her waist. “Do you?”

“Yeah. I like the dress, too. I like that I get to take it off.”

“Really? Because I like your jacket,” Azzi teased, fingers sliding over Paige’s chest. “And I like your blouse.”

Paige laughed under her breath. “Azzi, behave. This still is a public event.”

“I know, and there are a lot of people publicly flirting with you. I’m just making sure they see I’m the only one who gets to have you.”

Paige blushed, shaking her head. “Bro, you’re unreal.”

“I am, but I’m also yours. And you’re mine. Right?”

Paige leaned in, kissed her cheek. “Do you have any doubt about that?”

“No,” Azzi said “I don’t.”

Paige squeezed her hand, this time more discretly, tugging her toward the exit.

“We’re going back to the hotel?" Azzi murmured.

Paige smirked, voice dropping low “I think you said you wore this dress for me to take it off. I’m pretty sure.”

Azzi laughed, cheeks warm.

“Now you’re shy? You were kissing me in front of the entire room and now you’re shy?” Paige tugged her closer, pulling her toward the hallway. “Come on.”

They ducked into the bathroom, Paige pushing the door open with a laugh.

Azzi just giggled, a little breathless, almost in disbelief this was actually happening.

Then Paige’s mouth was on hers again, urgent. Azzi kissed her back, hands sliding to Paige’s shoulders as she pushed her gently down onto the closed toilet seat.

Paige broke away for a second, staring up at her, incredulous. “Bro, the toilet seat?”

“You’ve been here before, you sat on dirtier toilet seats than this. Don’t complain now,” Azzi teased.

Paige laughed as Azzi slid her hands into the back of her ponytail undoing it, fingers threading through warm blonde hair.

Azzi kissed her hard, owning the moment and the space.

“Are you going to scream my name tonight, sweetheart?” Azzi whispered, breath hot against Paige’s skin.

“I’d do whatever the fuck you want,” Paige moaned, and Azzi's hands were already on her underwear, her fingers rubbing and touching, feeling the wet skin.

“Damn right you are," Azzi said, her fingers finding the hem of Paige's jacket and pushing it open.

Paige caught her hands. "You're not getting me naked in this little bathroom, though."

"Oh, I don't need to get you naked," Azzi whispered, her hands finding Paige's jeans, prying them open just enough so her hands could go comfortably in Paige's boxers. "I just need to... get you to come."

Paige's head rolled back against the wall, a soft "fuck" escaping her lips.

She kissed Paige’s neck in that one spot she loved, the one that made her weak and Paige was completely done for, her moans becoming louder and more frequent.

"Be quiet," Azzi commanded, a small, knowing smile on her face. "You can't be loud”

Paige tried to protest, but her protests dissolved into a laugh that turned into a whisper. “Remember when I wanted to fuck you in a bathroom years ago and you said no because it was gross?” she murmured amused. “Now look at us.”

“You were always the needier one” Azzi whispered in the blonde’s ear, grinning, and the way Paige’s body tightened made her grin even wider.

"Bro, you're unreal," Paige breathed, her body tensing.

"Do you want to come?" Azzi asked, her tone low and teasing as she pulled her fingers away, just slightly.

"Please," Paige begged, "Please, God, yes"

Azzi put her hand back, her movements going faster even as her wrist ached from the uncomfortable positioning she was doing this in.

There’s probably a more efficient way to fuck her girlfriend then while sitting on her lap, but Azzi was quite literally: way too deep into this now.

“Be quiet” Azzi said back to the blonde, who was doing an awful job of keeping this lowkey.

"Bro, you cannot be putting your hands inside of me and then telling me to control myself when I speak." Paige pleaded, her head hitting the wall as her body contorted up, chasing the pleasure.

"Of course I can."

"Don't, start with this " Paige groaned, then, Azzi’s fingers were on her again, "Like, yeah, whatever you want."

Azzi chuckled. "You're so easy to win over."

She felt Paige's hands go to her body, grabbing at her tights and her dress, tight grip that would definitely leave a mark, she felt herself get warm incredibly fast.

Just, unlike Paige, Azzi had a little bit of self-respect, so she wasn't going to get fucked in a public bathroom (again). That would wait for the hotel.

But for now, she could feel Paige's body tightening up as her hands went to Azzi's hair, pulling it. Azzi almost moaned but held back, biting into Paige's neck.

That's when Paige came, her body shaking as she put her hands over her own mouth to contain the sound.

When it was over, Azzi took her wet fingers out and put them in her mouth, sucking on them slowly. Paige just stared at her, her eyes wide.

"Damn," Paige said, her voice still a little shaky. "Just know you're in absolute trouble” She reached out a hand to Azzi’s thighs. "And I don't get to touch you now?"

Azzi batted her hand away "No, you don't " She stood up, her voice firm.

"Not even, like... You don't have to touch the bathroom princess. I can just, like, get on my knees..."

"No," Azzi said, "You're not doing anything to me in this bathroom." She then did one final thing, she took off her underwear and threw it in the garbage.

Paige stared at the lacey black fabric in the can "Okay, what is this doing for me now?"

"I don't know," Azzi shrugged, a playful smile on her face. "Now you know I don't have underwear on."

"You're insane, actually insane." Paige laughed, a sound of pure adoration even if her words said otherwise.

They left the bathroom, and gladly found out no one was there.

As they walked down the hall, Paige’s eyes scanned the crowd. "We're going back to the hotel, right?" she said.

"Yeah, of course. I threw my underwear in the garbage. I’m not staying at a party without my underwear on."

"Yeah, that's what I thought," Paige said, a smirk playing on her lips. "I really need to touch you"

As they walked out the party, a voice came from behind them. It was Saniya, with Aziaha.

"Are you guys going back to the hotel?" Saniya asked.

Paige sighed. "Yeah, how did you know?"

Niya laughed, shaking her head. "In the bathroom, Paige? Y'all are freaky for real."

Paige and Azzi both laughed terribly embarrassed…someone was there.

Paige just pushed Niya away playfully and kept walking, she knew they would be made fun of for this for the rest of their lives.

But to be fair, Azzi liked it, and it felt like she had done what she set out to do.

She had reminded the world, and more importantly, Paige herself, that she was the only one that could possibly have her.

May, 2028 (Minneapolis, Minessota)

Azzi was not a trash talker, everyone knew that.

The first time she ever saw that kind of public meanness, she was a kid in middle school. Her dad (a relentless trash talker) was taunting the opposing coach, and Azzi, had walked right up to him and said, “Daddy, you need to stop talking. You’re distracting me.”

To be fair, he didn’t stop, in Tim Fudd fashion, he told her to tough it up.

But Azzi had hated it.

She could be petty, she could get angry, but she almost never said anything mean. Her exceptions were rare, reserved only for people who went after her family: her parents, her siblings, and most of all, her girlfriend.

And right now, people were going after her girlfriend.

The 2027 season had been brutal for Paige, the Dallas Wings had made it to the playoffs but lost in the semifinals to the Liberty, and as the team’s star, Paige took the most of the blame. The media tore her apart, saying she hadn’t lived up to the hype.

And when the trade to Minnesota was announced? It only got worse, they called her a traitor, and said she was running from Dallas because she couldn’t deliver a title.

Now, with the news that she’d been named a starter for Team USA, the criticism had reached another level.

She doesn’t deserve it. Someone else earned it. Hypemachine.

It was getting to Paige. Azzi could see it, even through her girlfriend’s practiced act of acting untouchable.

So today, sitting at a Lynx press conference next to Napheesa, Azzi was already bubbling with anger. She scanned the room, recognizing faces of reporters who had written some of the most vicious takes, and felt her jaw tighten.

The questions started general, team goals, adjustments after last year’s finals loss. Azzi gave short answers, letting Phee handle most of it.

Then it came.

“Paige Bueckers is joining the team,” a reporter said, “but she had an awful season with the Wings. She couldn’t get them anywhere, and now she’s somehow been handed an Olympic starter spot. How do you expect this to affect the Lynx, considering she’ll be coming back tired?”

Phee rolled her eyes, about to respond, but Azzi was faster.

She leaned forward, took the mic, and locked eyes with the reporter. Her voice was steady, “Actually, I’ll answer this for Phee.”

The room went still

“I want to know who you are, because I need to understand if you’ve ever actually watched a basketball game Paige Bueckers has played in.”

“Because if you had,” Azzi continued, her voice sharp now, “you’d know Dallas didn’t win because of a lot of things, but none of them were Paige. And if you knew anything about basketball, you wouldn’t even question that. Which makes me wonder, what are you doing here?”

The silence was deafening.

“My credentials?” Azzi’s voice rose. “I’m a champion with the Minnesota Lynx, I play basketball for a living. You? I don’t know what your credentials are, because what you just said tells me you don’t know basketball, and you sure as hell don’t know Paige.”

She leaned back slightly, “And I hate that Paige, who right now is in L.A working her ass off to represent this country at the Olympics, has to hear people like you drag her name. Because I know she’s going to do her job, win a gold medal, and prove you wrong.”

No one spoke

“Do your job, research, don’t just repeat garbage from Twitter. You’re not a random account, you’re a goddamn reporter. Act like it.” She set the mic down. “Any other questions?” No one raised a hand.

Cheryl let out a low laugh, breaking the tension and Phee followed with one of her own.

Azzi wasn’t like this, not really, but sometimes the line was crossed.

When the press wrapped, Azzi was shaking as she left the table. Phee caught up. “That was a lot,” she said.

“I’m so sorry,” Azzi muttered.

“No,” Cheryl said, smiling honestly. “I liked it. Keep that energy.”

Azzi’s phone was buzzing nonstop: teammates, friends, even rivals hyping her up.

And then a FaceTime call: Paige.

Azzi ducked into a corner and answered.

The moment Paige’s face popped up on FaceTime, hoodie and glasses on, her voice came blasting through

“That’s my girl! That’s my fucking girl!”

“Paige, be quiet!” Azzi hissed, blushing as Lynx staff passing by laughed at the volume.

“Holy shit, Azzi, I had chills! CHILLS! I literally had to call you!” Paige was grinning so wide Azzi thought her face had to be hurting.

“I was just defending you,” Azzi mumbled, trying not to smile.

“I know! And it was so fucking hot. I wish I was there, I would’ve kissed you right on that table.”

Azzi lowerd her head, laughing.

“Baby,” Paige’s voice softened, “thank you. I know you don’t like trash talk. I know this stressed you out, but I loved it”

“You’re welcome,”

Paige’s grin turned mischievous. “Now I wanna see his response.”

“Oh God, no. He’s gonna cook me alive.”

“Don’t worry,” Paige said, fire flashing in her eyes. “I love some good old fashion trash talk, so if this balding little bitch cooks you, I’ll cook him five times harder”

Azzi laughed, because yeah, Paige absolutly would.

December, 2030 (Capri, Italy)

Azzi woke up slowly, next to her, Paige was already sitting up in bed: glasses on, sports bra, and of course, her fuckass iPad in hand.

She glanced over, her eyes still ajusting to the light.

“Hi, baby,” Paige murmured, leaning in to kiss her cheek.

Azzi groaned, exhaustion from the night before still felt heavy in her body. It was their first day of their honeymoon, and they had definitely done a lot. But Paige, with her endless stamina, was already awake.

“Hi, baby,” Azzi mumbled, pressing herself deeper into the sheets. “What are you doing so early? I didn’t tire you out last night?”

Paige laughed. “No, you could never. I could go for another round right now.” She gave Azzi a look, but Azzi just shook her head, laughing.

“Not right now, Sorry.”

“Fine.” Paige’s smile returned instantly “But do you know what I was doing?” She held up the iPad, showing a big headline:

LOW COMPATIBILITY

Azzi blinked. “Paige, what’s that?”

Smiling, Paige announced, “I took a test to see if our signs are compatible! I’m a Libra, you’re a Scorpio, and apparently… this fucking thing says we have low compatibility.”

Azzi burst out laughing, shaking her head in disbelief. Of course Paige would wake up on the first morning of their honeymoon and do this.

“We just got married! Why are you looking up if we’re compatible? What is wrong with you?” she wheezed, dizzy with laughter.

“It’s for fun, I was just scrolling,” Paige said, hitting her playfully “Anyway, want to know why we’re not compatible?”

Azzi didn’t ask, but Paige was already sitting straighter, glasses sliding down her nose.

“First: Libras like open communication and Scorpios tend to keep their feelings to themselves.”

They both started laughing again.

“How does that sound to you?” Paige grinned. “Me talking about my feelings and you not?”

“That’s insane,” Azzi said through her laughter. “Mind you, I was the one who asked you to be my girlfriend.”

“Hey, missy, you asked me if you were my girlfriend! It’s not the same thing!” Paige protested, slightly flustered. “I’m open with my feelings too, not too much on me.”

“Okay, okay,” Azzi teased. “What’s next?”

“Emotional intensity,” Paige read, deadpan. “Libras, like me, are calm and Scorpios are intense.”

Azzi snorted “Very calm”

“Wait, listen! But Scorpios are intense. You’re going to tell me you’re not intense?” Paige’s blue eyes sparkled “Azzi Fudd, I married you. I know exactly how intense you are.”

“Fine,” Azzi said with mock indignation. “I’m intense, but so are you. You’re emotional as hell when you want to be.”

Paige ignored the teasing, scrolling. “Next: Scorpios want deep connections and Libras prefer surface-level connections.”

Paige looked revolted by what she just said, her glasses adorably falling a little down in the bridge of her nose.

"How does that sound to you?" Azzi asked.

"Like bullshit, that’s how it sounds. I wanted to marry you the first time I saw you"

That would be a hyperbole coming from most people, but Paige wasn't most people. Azzi believed her, as crazy as this sounds, Azzi believed that Paige Bueckers was determined to marry her the second Azzi asked to sit next to her in the plane to Minnesota.

“Well, we’re married now,” Azzi said.

“It took you forever to say yes”

“It took you forever to propose” Azzi shot back.

“I would’ve proposed sooner. Fuck, I would’ve proposed at 17, but I don’t think Tim Fudd would’ve been cool with that.”

Azzi laughed. He wouldn't be cool at all

Then the blonde smiled as she read the last one. “Okay, final point. Libras are friendly, Scorpios are… possessive.”

They exchanged a look, and both of them smiled knowingly. Yeah, that one was true.

“I’d agree with that,” Azzi said quietly

“But it doesn’t mean we’re incompatible.” Paige bopped her nose “It just means we would have issues to work through, and we have worked through them.”

Warmth grew in Azzi’s chest and she groaned dramatically, throwing herself back into the pillows. “Are there any good things about Libra-Scorpio couples?”

“I don’t know.” the blonde glanced at the screen “It doesn’t say.”

Paige's face suddenly lit up with mischief. “But I know a couple good things about us.”

Azzi’s dimples showed instantly, she could already tell Paige was about to be stupid. “Oh? Do you know astrology now?”

“No, ma’am. But I know us.” Paige set the iPad next to them, shifting to hover over Azzi.

Azzi might’ve found the move ridiculously hot, but then a thought hit her, and she buried her face in the pillow, laughing uncontrollably.

“Can I just say,” she gasped, “it’s insane you brought your fucking iPad on our honeymoon, and the first thing you did this morning was look for it.”

Paige flushed but started laughing too, bracing herself over Azzi. “Shut up, bro. I’m trying to be cute.”

Azzi laughed harder, tears prickling her eyes. God, I really didn’t think my honeymoon morning would go like this.

“Stop laughing! I’m trying to be sexy!” Paige huffed, squishing Azzi’s cheeks with one hand while smiling down at her.

Azzi looked up at her

Paige’s blonde hair spilled around her face like a halo, her glasses slipping halfway down her nose (because of course she never bothered to push them back up) and she was smiling.

Her cute, endearing Azzi smile. The one that made Azzi melt every time.

“Okay, fine. What are we compatible at?” Azzi asked, nudging Paige’s glasses back into place.

Paige smirked “Number one: being a hot match.”

Azzi rolled her eyes, cheeks warming. “You’re so lame.”

“I mean, we are. I’m the hot, strong blonde…”

“Strong? That’s your word?” Azzi teased, squeezing Paige’s biceps. To her dismay, she found herself blushing at the muscle she felt.

Paige’s grin turned cocky, she flexed down, kissed her quick, then pulled back smug.

“Shut up,” Azzi muttered, face burning.

Paige just kept grinning “You’re my wife now, you get to think I’m hot" She leand back to look at Azzi "And I get to think you’re gorgeous, especially when you’re lying here in just your bra and underwear.”

“You’re so dumb, God, you're a teenager” Azzi said, but the smile in her face betrayed her words.

“I’m not dumb, I’m smart. I pulled you, that’s like genius level.”

Azzi shook her head, “Any other compatibilities?”

“Sex,” Paige said instantly.

“Paige, shut up.” Azzi buried her face in the pillow, blushing.

“We are! We’re so good.” Paige kissed her cheek, her neck. “You don’t have my stamina, but that’s fine mama. I’ll take you however, whenever.

Finally, Paige rolled off, curling up beside her. She toyed with Azzi’s curls on the pillow, her gaze completely dazed in affection.

“But you know what?” Paige said softly, like she was surprised she hadn’t said it sooner. “My favorite thing about us, about you specifically, is how loyal you've been to me"

Paige's hand rested softly on her cheek "God only knows I never had a lot of stability growing up. I think that's why he gave me you.”

Azzi felt her heart turn to butter, and she let out a breathy laugh. “Actually, that’s a Scorpio thing, being loyal” she managed

Paige watched her, eyes fixed, like Azzi was the most important thing in the world “Well, princess,” she said, voice painfully sweet, “You really must be a Scorpio then”

Azzi smiled like an idiot, “Yeah,” she said, “whatever that means.”

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