I write women's basketball fanfiction wlw

18 || she/her

[kkandazzi]

I write for wlw only as I am a lesbian and I don't write x oc and I don't write smut for real people

Fluff , Angst , Hurt/Comfort , Dead Dove If something does not fall under the examples just ask and I consider whether I do it or not.

I will always keep my works with the warnings so that everyone knows what they are about to read.

I write for women's basketball 🏀

my requests are open 🔓

Dallas wings masterlist

Uconn wbb masterlist

[kkandazzi]

One Person Azzi Said No To-Paige Bueckers x Female Reader 💙

The first mistake Paige Bueckers made was telling Azzi Fudd her younger sister was pretty.

The second mistake?

Saying it while sitting directly beside her on the team plane for the Dallas Wings.

Azzi turned slowly in her seat like Paige had personally offended her ancestors.

"Excuse me?"

Paige immediately regretted everything.

Because honestly, it just slipped out.

Azzi had been scrolling through pictures on her phone during a road trip, showing Paige some family photos from back home between games.

And then suddenly-

There you were.

Pretty smile.

Soft eyes.

Wearing an oversized UConn hoodie in one picture while hugging Azzi.

Paige's brain stopped functioning instantly.

"She's pretty," Paige repeated before common sense could save her.

Azzi stared at her in horror.

"That's my sister."

Paige blinked once.

"...Right."

"My YOUNGER sister."

"She's twenty-two, not twelve."

"That's not helping your case."

Unfortunately for Azzi, Paige was already doomed.

And things only got worse when you visited Dallas for the first time a few weeks later.

Azzi invited you to one of the Wings games while you were on break from school at University of Connecticut.

Paige told herself she would act normal.

She failed immediately.

The second you walked into the practice facility beside Azzi, Paige forgot how conversations worked.

You were somehow exactly how Azzi described you.

Calm.

Funny without trying.

Easy to talk to.

And worst of all?

You didn't care that Paige was famous.

You teased her within fifteen minutes of meeting her.

"Azzi says you're dramatic after losses," you said casually while sipping your iced coffee.

Azzi immediately snorted.

Paige looked betrayed. "Wow. Okay."

"She said you once ignored everybody for two hours because someone blocked your shot."

"That was emotional processing."

You laughed softly.

And Paige was completely done for.

After that, she started finding excuses to talk to you constantly.

"Do you wanna come to practice?"

"You should sit with us for film."

"Can I show you around Dallas?"

Azzi noticed immediately.

And she hated it.

Not because she didn't trust Paige.

Actually, that was the problem.

Azzi trusted Paige with her life.

Through injuries.

Pressure.

The transition from college basketball to the WNBA.

That was her person.

Which was exactly why she felt protective.

Because you were her little sister.

And even though you were an adult fully capable of making your own choices-

Azzi still saw the little girl she grew up protecting.

So no.

She absolutely did not react well when Paige admitted she liked you.

"You cannot date my sister," Azzi said flatly one night after practice.

Paige blinked. "Why?"

"Because I said so."

"That's not a real answer."

Azzi looked genuinely stressed now.

"Paige."

"What?"

"That's my FAMILY."

Paige softened a little then.

Because she understood.

Really.

Azzi wasn't trying to control you.

She was scared.

Scared her best friend dating her sister could ruin everything if things went badly.

And honestly?

Paige couldn't even blame her for that.

Still, none of it stopped her from falling harder.

Especially once you started falling too.

It happened slowly.

Late-night FaceTimes after road games.

Paige bringing you coffee before your classes.

You sitting courtside at Wings games cheering louder for Paige than anyone else.

And somehow Paige became softer around you.

The version of her the public rarely saw.

Quiet.

Affectionate.

Needy in a way she'd deny immediately if anyone pointed it out.

One night after a tough loss, Paige ended up sitting with you alone in the empty practice gym long after everyone else left.

She looked exhausted.

Mentally more than physically.

The pressure of being a rookie in the WNBA while carrying enormous expectations weighed heavily sometimes.

You noticed immediately.

"You okay?" you asked softly.

Paige shrugged, staring down at the basketball spinning slowly in her hands.

"People expect me to be perfect all the time."

Your expression softened instantly.

Paige laughed quietly afterward like she regretted admitting that.

"I sound dramatic."

"No," you said gently. "You sound tired."

That hit her harder than she expected.

Because most people saw the headlines.

The stats.

The fame.

But you saw her.

The actual person underneath all of it.

And honestly?

Paige fell in love a little right there.

Eventually, despite Azzi's continued disapproval, Paige asked you out properly.

And unfortunately for Azzi?

You said yes immediately.

"She said YES yes," Paige told Azzi later looking entirely too happy.

Azzi stared at her blankly.

"You're smiling too hard."

"I'm in love."

"You've been dating for six hours."

Paige pointed seriously. "And?"

Azzi groaned dramatically.

For a while, Azzi remained stubborn about it.

Not mean.

Never mean.

Just intensely protective.

She questioned Paige constantly.

"What are your intentions?"

Paige looked offended. "What am I, a boyfriend in a 2000s movie?"

"You better act like one."

But over time?

Azzi started noticing things.

Small things first.

Like how Paige always made sure you sat beside her on flights.

How she memorized your favorite snacks without trying.

How she looked for you first after every game.

How she softened instantly whenever you entered a room.

Then came the moment that finally changed everything.

The Wings had just lost a frustrating game.

Paige played well statistically, but she took losses personally sometimes.

The media afterward was brutal.

Questions.

Pressure.

Constant comparisons.

By the time the team got back to the apartment building, Paige looked exhausted in a way Azzi recognized immediately.

Normally after bad losses, Paige isolated herself.

Instead?

She went straight to you.

Azzi watched quietly from down the hallway while you opened your apartment door and immediately pulled Paige into your arms without hesitation.

No cameras.

No basketball.

No expectations.

Just comfort.

Paige practically melted against you instantly.

You rubbed your hand gently against her back while whispering something that made her finally laugh softly for the first time all night.

And for the first time-

Azzi really saw it.

Not a crush.

Not flirting.

Love.

Real love.

The kind that steadied people.

Protected them.

Made hard things easier.

Paige looked peaceful with you.

Safe.

And honestly?

Azzi couldn't remember the last time she'd seen her best friend look at someone like that.

Later that night, Paige nearly dropped her phone when Azzi texted her unexpectedly.

Take care of her.

Paige stared at the message for a solid ten seconds.

Then immediately replied:

Always.

A minute later another text appeared.

If you hurt her I'll request a trade just to beat your ass.

Paige burst out laughing instantly.

Then smiled softly while looking across the couch at you half asleep against her shoulder.

Worth the threat.

[kkandazzi]

Welcome To The Family Arike Ogunbowale x Female Reader 💙

For someone who regularly hit game-winning shots in front of thousands of people, Arike Ogunbowale was surprisingly nervous.

You noticed it immediately.

Her hand kept tapping against the steering wheel.

She kept checking the GPS despite knowing exactly where she was going.

And she'd asked if you were okay approximately seventeen times in the last hour.

"Arike."

"Hm?"

"You asked me that five minutes ago."

She glanced over briefly.

"Okay, but are you okay?"

You laughed.

"Baby, we're just meeting your family."

"Exactly."

That only made you laugh harder.

Because after a year of dating, you knew Arike pretty well.

Confident?

Absolutely.

Competitive?

Without question.

Capable of talking trash while dropping thirty points in a WNBA game?

Definitely.

But family was different.

Family mattered.

And apparently she was worried.

"You know they're going to love you, right?" you said softly.

Arike sighed.

"I know."

But she didn't sound convinced.

You reached over and squeezed her hand.

The truth was, part of her nervousness came from wanting everything to go perfectly.

You'd been together for a year.

A really good year.

The kind of relationship that felt easy.

Comfortable.

The kind where you became each other's favorite person without even realizing it.

And now she was bringing you home.

Introducing you to the people she loved most.

That felt important.

Very important.

By the time you pulled into the driveway, Arike looked like she was preparing for a championship game.

"You're overthinking this."

"I know."

"You dropped thirty-five points against professional basketball players."

"That was easier."

You stared at her.

"You're ridiculous."

"A little."

Then she leaned over and kissed your forehead.

And together, you walked toward the house.

The front door opened before you even knocked.

Immediately, the smell of food hit you.

Then voices.

Laughter.

Music.

Family.

Lots of family.

"Oh, they're here!"

Within seconds, you were being welcomed inside.

Introductions happened rapidly.

Aunts.

Uncles.

Cousins.

Siblings.

People talking over each other.

Everybody smiling.

Everybody excited.

And to Arike's complete shock?

Nobody seemed concerned about anything except meeting you.

They wanted to know about your job.

Your hobbies.

How you met Arike.

Whether Arike was as stubborn at home as she was on television.

"She absolutely is," you answered immediately.

The entire room burst into laughter.

Arike pointed at you.

"Wow."

"You know it's true."

One of her cousins nodded seriously.

"It is true."

"Traitor."

The teasing continued for the next hour.

And slowly, Arike relaxed.

Because she could see what was happening.

Her family genuinely liked you.

Actually, they seemed to love you already.

Which became very obvious when her mother finally got a good look at you.

There was a long pause.

A very thoughtful pause.

Then-

"Arike, baby."

Arike immediately knew that tone.

"Oh no."

Her mother looked horrified.

"She's so skinny."

You blinked.

Arike covered her face immediately.

"Mom."

Her mother ignored her completely.

"Do you even feed her?"

The entire room exploded into laughter.

"Mom!"

Now her mother was already walking toward you.

She took your hand immediately.

"Come on, baby."

You looked at Arike helplessly.

Her mother smiled warmly.

"Let's get you some food."

The room somehow laughed even harder.

"Mom, she's fine!"

"No, no."

Her mother was already leading you toward the kitchen.

"We're fixing this."

You were trying not to laugh as you looked back at your girlfriend.

Arike looked deeply betrayed.

"You just met her!"

Her mother pointed at her.

"And I already like her."

"Wow."

You were seated at the kitchen table less than thirty seconds later.

Then food started appearing.

A lot of food.

Enough food for an entire basketball team.

Maybe two.

Her mother set another plate in front of you.

"Eat."

You glanced at Arike.

She was sitting across from you looking completely defeated.

"I've lost my family."

You giggled.

"I think they're still your family."

"Not anymore."

One of her cousins immediately spoke up.

"We've chosen."

"YOU'VE KNOWN HER FOR AN HOUR."

Another cousin shrugged.

"She's nice."

Arike dropped her head onto the table dramatically.

The room erupted into laughter again.

Meanwhile, you were trying to finish your food while her mother continued adding more to your plate.

"Ma'am, I promise I eat."

"Mhmm."

"I do."

"Take another piece."

You couldn't stop smiling.

Because honestly?

The entire situation was ridiculous.

And sweet.

And somehow perfectly reflected the family Arike came from.

Loud.

Loving.

Protective.

The kind of people who made room for you immediately.

By the end of the evening, you were helping clean up dishes when you felt arms wrap around your waist.

You smiled instantly.

"Hey."

Arike rested her chin on your shoulder.

"Hey."

You leaned back against her.

"They were wonderful."

Arike smiled softly.

"Yeah."

For a moment neither of you spoke.

Then-

"My mom likes you more than me."

You laughed so hard you nearly dropped a plate.

Across the kitchen, her mother overheard immediately.

"That's not true."

Arike looked relieved.

Then her mother continued.

"I love both of you."

A pause.

Then-

"But she did finish all her food."

The entire house burst into laughter once again.

And Arike?

She couldn't even pretend to be annoyed.

Not when she was smiling that hard.

[kkandazzi]

Coach Says Bring Your Wife - Olivia Miles x Female Reader 💙

Everybody warned you before marrying Olivia Miles that life would get chaotic once she entered the WNBA.

And honestly?

They were right.

But nobody warned you that your wife would become physically incapable of shutting up about you afterward.

It started innocently enough.

Olivia got drafted into the WNBA after an incredible college career at University of Notre Dame, and barely a month later the two of you secretly got married at a tiny courthouse ceremony with only close family and friends there.

Nothing huge.

Nothing flashy.

Just love.

And Olivia had never looked happier in her life.

The problem?

Once she became your wife, she suddenly started mentioning you constantly.

Especially during interviews.

At first it slipped out naturally.

"What helped your transition into the league most?"

"My wife honestly keeps me sane."

Then another interview:

"You seemed really composed late in the fourth quarter tonight."

Olivia grinned immediately.

"My wife told me to stop overthinking before the game."

Then another.

And another.

And another.

Eventually reporters just started expecting it.

One press conference lasted less than four minutes before Olivia somehow mentioned you twice.

Her teammates thought it was hilarious.

"She's gonna bring her wife up no matter what the question is," one teammate laughed during practice.

Another nodded seriously. "You could ask her about defensive rotations and somehow she'd mention marriage."

They weren't wrong.

"Olivia, what adjustments did you make defensively tonight?"

Olivia nodded thoughtfully.

"Well my wife actually pointed out-"

The entire media room burst into laughter immediately.

Olivia blinked innocently. "What?"

Even the coaching staff stopped reacting eventually.

Because honestly?

Nobody minded.

Mainly because Olivia somehow started playing even better after getting married.

Which genuinely felt unfair.

She was already one of the smartest guards on the floor.

Elite vision.

Creative passing.

Quick pace.

But after marrying you?

Something shifted.

She looked calmer.

More confident.

More grounded.

And terrifyingly efficient.

Especially during games you attended.

The difference became so obvious the coaching staff literally started tracking it jokingly.

"She's shooting better when her wife's courtside," one assistant coach whispered during film.

The head coach raised an eyebrow. "How much better?"

"A lot better."

And unfortunately-

The numbers backed it up.

Olivia played ridiculously well whenever you were in the arena.

More assists.

Higher scoring.

Better efficiency.

Less turnovers.

One game especially made everyone fully believe it.

You missed a road game because of work, and Olivia played noticeably off rhythm the entire night.

Still good.

But not Olivia good.

Then the very next game?

You showed up courtside unexpectedly wearing her hoodie.

Olivia saw you during warmups and immediately lit up.

One teammate groaned dramatically from the layup line.

"Oh, we're about to witness nonsense."

They did.

Because Olivia absolutely went off.

Deep threes.

Ridiculous passes.

Steals.

Everything worked.

At one point she hit a difficult transition shot before immediately turning toward the sideline grinning directly at you.

The bench exploded.

"There she goes!" someone yelled.

Even the commentators noticed.

"She definitely plays with extra energy when her wife is in the building."

The head coach sat there silently for a moment before making a decision.

"We need her at more games."

And somehow-

That became a real thing.

Soon enough, team staff started casually checking your availability.

"Any chance you're free Friday?"

You blinked in confusion. "Why?"

"Our coach thinks Olivia becomes superhuman when you're courtside."

You laughed so hard you nearly dropped your phone.

But honestly?

The coach wasn't wrong.

Olivia loved basketball deeply.

Always would.

But loving you gave her something she never realized she'd been missing.

Stability.

Peace.

A home outside the pressure.

So naturally, she played freer now.

Happier.

And everyone around her benefited from it.

One night after another huge win, Olivia sat at the postgame press conference sweaty and grinning while reporters asked about her near triple-double.

"What's been clicking for you lately?" one reporter asked.

Olivia leaned back casually.

"My wife came to this game."

The entire room burst into laughter immediately.

Her teammate beside her shook her head. "There it is."

"I'm serious," Olivia defended proudly. "She's like good luck."

"You realize she's not actually part of the coaching staff, right?" another reporter joked.

Olivia shrugged. "Debatable."

Later that night, you waited outside the locker room while players and staff walked past still joking about Olivia's obsession with you.

"She talks about you like you hung the moon," one assistant coach laughed.

You smiled shyly. "Sorry?"

"Don't apologize," the coach replied immediately. "She dropped thirty tonight. Please keep showing up."

You were still laughing about it when Olivia finally emerged from the locker room.

The second she spotted you, her entire face softened.

"There's my wife."

Your heart still melted every single time she said that.

You walked into her arms immediately while she kissed your forehead gently.

"You know your coach texted me personally asking me to come to more games?"

Olivia looked proud instead of embarrassed.

"See? Team player."

"You're ridiculous."

"You love me."

Unfortunately?

She was completely right.

And honestly, watching Olivia smile at you like you were the best thing that ever happened to her made it impossible not to love her right back.

[kkandazzi]

I have a good Olivia miles fic coming out soon I watched the game last night and I was mesmerized by her 😵‍💫😵‍💫

And updating masterlist this weekend

[kkandazzi]

hey could you please write a jess fic, where reader and her are teammates and tryna keep their relationship a secret because the wings teammates are terrible at keeping secret?

Wait this is sooo good it should be out tomorrow:)

[kkandazzi]

For You, I’ll Learn - Azzi Fudd x Female Reader 💙

When Azzi Fudd first started dating you, she learned something very quickly.

You knew absolutely nothing about basketball.

Like-

Nothing.

Not the positions.

Not the rules.

Not why everyone yelled when someone got fouled.

The first game you watched together ended with you staring at the TV in complete confusion.

"Wait," you interrupted seriously, "why do they keep clapping when she misses?"

Azzi blinked. "Baby... she made one of the free throws."

"Oh."

Another pause.

"So why does everyone hate the shot clock?"

Azzi laughed so hard she almost fell off the couch.

But honestly?

She adored it.

Because despite understanding absolutely nothing about the sport that consumed most of her life, you still tried so hard to learn.

For her.

And that meant everything to Azzi.

So naturally, she made it her personal mission to teach you basketball.

"You see how she's rotating defensively?" Azzi explained one night while the two of you watched film together in her dorm.

You squinted at the screen. "No."

Azzi laughed softly. "Okay, fair."

Sometimes she'd pause games just to explain terminology.

Other times she'd drag you into empty gyms after practice and physically walk you through plays while you pretended not to dramatically flop onto the floor afterward.

"This is exhausting," you complained once while Azzi dribbled around you easily.

"You're supposed to move your feet."

"I am moving my feet."

"You look like a baby deer."

You gasped dramatically while Azzi doubled over laughing.

And slowly-

Very slowly-

You started understanding it.

A little.

Enough to surprise her sometimes.

"Wait," you said during one game while pointing at the screen. "That was a bad defensive switch."

Azzi stared at you proudly like you'd just solved world hunger.

"BABY!"

You started laughing immediately. "Was I right?"

"You were PERFECT."

Two months into dating, Azzi genuinely thought she might explode from happiness when you texted her a screenshot of courtside tickets you somehow managed to get for one of UConn's biggest games.

YOU'RE GONNA HAVE TO EXPLAIN EVERYTHING LIVE BTW

Azzi grinned so hard her cheeks hurt.

Oh she was excited.

Like genuinely excited.

Her teammates were sick of hearing about it.

"My girlfriend is finally coming courtside," Azzi announced for probably the tenth time during practice.

Paige snorted. "We know."

"She bought tickets herself."

"We KNOW."

"She learned what a pick and roll is."

Paige put a hand over her heart dramatically. "That's beautiful."

Azzi ignored her completely.

Because all day she kept imagining it.

You in the crowd.

Cheering for her.

Wearing one of her hoodies probably way too big on you.

God, she was excited.

Then two hours before the game-

Her phone buzzed.

And immediately, something in her chest tightened.

Your text read:

Baby I'm so sorry :( I can't make it anymore. I got food poisoning and I genuinely feel horrible right now

Azzi's smile disappeared instantly.

Oh.

Her heart dropped.

For a second, disappointment hit hard because she'd been looking forward to seeing you all week.

But immediately after that came concern.

Are you okay???

You replied almost instantly.

I think I'm dying actually

Azzi frowned immediately.

That's not funny

A few seconds later:

Okay maybe slightly funny :(

Despite herself, Azzi smiled a little.

Still, she hated that you were sick.

Especially because she couldn't even go take care of you right then with the game coming up in two hours.

So instead?

She did the next best thing.

About twenty minutes later, there was a knock on your dorm door.

You dragged yourself out of bed weakly and opened it to find bags sitting outside.

Soup.

Crackers.

Gatorade.

Medicine.

Ginger ale.

Fruit snacks.

And a note written in Azzi's handwriting.

For my sick girl :(

Please eat something.

And don't argue with me.

I love you.

A

Your eyes watered instantly.

Because somehow, even while preparing for one of the biggest games of the season, Azzi still found time to take care of you.

You texted her immediately.

Did you seriously Uber Eats me medicine

Azzi replied instantly.

I'm basically a doctor now

You laughed weakly despite your nausea.

-

Ten minutes before tipoff, the arena buzzed with noise while the team gathered quietly for final moments before introductions.

Azzi adjusted her jersey before sitting down at the edge of the bench for a second.

She always prayed before games.

Always.

Tonight, though, the prayer came easier.

Please let her feel better.

Please let her get some rest.

And please let us win this one for her.

Then she stood up.

Focused.

Ready.

And honestly?

Azzi played incredible.

Every big shot seemed to fall.

Every defensive play felt sharp.

Even Paige joked afterward that Azzi was "playing like she had something to prove."

The second the game ended with a UConn win, Azzi barely stayed long enough for media.

She answered interviews quickly, grabbed her bag, and rushed out of the arena before anyone could stop her.

"Where are you going?" Paige called after her.

"My girlfriend is dying," Azzi answered seriously.

Paige blinked. "Food poisoning isn't-"

"She needs me."

And honestly?

That was the end of the conversation.

-

By the time Azzi finally got to your dorm later that night, you were half asleep curled under blankets looking absolutely miserable.

Your eyes opened slowly when she walked in.

"...Hi."

Azzi's entire face softened instantly.

"There's my girl."

You smiled weakly. "Did you win?"

Azzi grinned immediately before setting her bag down and climbing carefully beside you.

"Obviously."

You laughed softly before immediately groaning in pain.

Azzi frowned sympathetically. "Aw baby."

Then she gently brushed hair away from your face before leaning down and kissing your forehead.

"I brought more Gatorade."

"You're so romantic."

"I know."

You shifted closer to her carefully while Azzi wrapped an arm around you.

"I'm sorry I missed your game," you whispered quietly.

Azzi shook her head immediately.

"You being okay matters more."

Your chest ached a little at that.

Because Azzi loved basketball more than almost anything.

But somehow-

She always made you feel like she loved you even more.

Then Azzi smiled softly while looking down at you.

"But for the record?"

You blinked sleepily. "What?"

"You correctly identified three defensive switches last game."

A tiny smile spread across your face.

"I'm basically an athlete now."

Azzi laughed quietly before kissing your forehead again.

"Yeah, baby," she whispered. "You're basically a pro."

[kkandazzi]

Babysit Maya - Sarah Strong x Female Reader 💙

Dating a mom was still new for Sarah Strong.

Not in a bad way.

Actually, completely the opposite.

She adored you.

And she absolutely adored your three-year-old daughter Maya, who somehow managed to have more energy than an entire college basketball team combined.

Still, Sarah would admit one thing very honestly:

Watching Maya completely alone for an entire day was terrifying.

Especially because you had parenting rules.

Very specific parenting rules.

And Sarah was trying so hard to impress you.

It was Mother’s Day weekend, and Sarah had spent nearly two months secretly planning the perfect gift.

A full luxury spa day.

Massage.

Facials.

Lunch.

Everything.

“You deserve one day where nobody says ‘mommy’ every fourteen seconds,” Sarah told you proudly while handing you the envelope that morning.

Your eyes widened immediately.

“Sarah.”

“You’re going,” she said firmly before you could protest. “And I’m watching Maya.”

You looked slightly unsure.

Sarah noticed instantly.

“I can handle one tiny three-year-old,” she defended dramatically.

From her high chair, Maya looked up proudly.

“I’m BIG.”

Sarah pointed immediately. “See? She’s basically grown.”

You laughed softly before finally giving in.

But before leaving, you crouched beside Sarah very seriously while Maya colored nearby.

“Okay. Instructions.”

Sarah nodded confidently.

“I got this.”

“Sarah.”

“Right. Serious face.”

You handed her a written list.

“No ice cream or sugar before bed.”

“Easy.”

“Please bathe her tonight.”

“Mhm.”

“If she says her bedtime is nine o’clock, she’s lying. It’s eight.”

Sarah snorted softly. “She lies about bedtime?”

“She’s manipulative.”

Maya gasped dramatically from the table. “MOMMY.”

You ignored her completely.

“No scary movies.”

“Obviously.”

“She needs outside time.”

“Okay.”

“And absolutely no iPad today.”

Sarah blinked once.

“…None?”

“None.”

Maya suddenly looked personally betrayed.

You kissed Maya’s forehead first, then Sarah’s cheek.

“Good luck.”

Sarah grinned confidently.

“I’m literally an athlete. How hard can this be?”

—

Three hours later, Sarah realized she had been arrogant.

Very arrogant.

Because Maya was insane.

Lovable.

Cute.

But absolutely insane.

“She’s fast,” Sarah muttered breathlessly while chasing Maya around the apartment after the little girl somehow escaped during lunch.

And unfortunately?

Sarah panicked.

So naturally—

She called reinforcements.

Which was how half the University of Connecticut women’s basketball team somehow ended up squeezed into Sarah’s apartment helping entertain a three-year-old.

Paige brought coloring books.

KK showed up with a soccer ball for some reason.

Azzi immediately sat on the floor playing princess tea party like her life depended on it.

Maya adored all of them instantly.

“This is chaos,” Paige laughed while Maya climbed onto Sarah’s back.

“I’m sweating more than practice,” Sarah admitted.

Things actually went pretty well at first.

Maya got outside time.

Sarah helped her pick flowers near the apartment courtyard.

They colored.

Watched cartoons.

Made chicken nuggets.

Everything was fine.

Until KK made a mistake.

“Can she have one cookie?” KK asked innocently.

Sarah hesitated.

Technically you said no sugar before bed.

But bedtime was hours away.

“…One cookie is probably okay.”

It was not okay.

Because one cookie turned into:

Two cookies.

Then ice cream.

Then Azzi teaching Maya how to make milkshakes.

Paige watched the disaster unfold silently.

“We’re gonna die when her mom gets home.”

Sarah waved dismissively while Maya bounced around the living room at dangerous speeds.

“She’ll crash eventually.”

She did not crash eventually.

In fact—

Maya became stronger.

Then came mistake number two.

The iPad.

Sarah had only intended to let Maya use it for fifteen minutes while everyone cleaned up.

Instead, Maya discovered a loud children’s dinosaur game and became emotionally attached immediately.

And then—

Mistake number three.

Bath time.

“Do YOU wanna give her a bath?” Sarah asked the room.

The entire team suddenly became deeply interested in literally anything else.

So bath time never happened.

Oops.

By 7:45 PM, the apartment looked like a crime scene.

Toys everywhere.

Tiny socks everywhere.

Glitter somehow on the ceiling.

And Maya?

Still fully awake.

Very awake.

Too awake.

“Why is she getting faster?” Sarah whispered fearfully while Maya sprinted past screaming about dinosaurs.

Paige pointed calmly. “That’s the ice cream.”

Sarah stared blankly. “I made mistakes.”

“You made several.”

Then Maya climbed directly onto the couch cushions and announced proudly:

“I’M NEVER SLEEPING.”

Sarah looked genuinely terrified.

—

Meanwhile, your spa day had been incredible.

Peaceful.

Relaxing.

Quiet.

Suspiciously quiet.

Too quiet actually.

Because Sarah normally texted constantly.

Instead, today?

Nothing.

Only one blurry photo hours ago of Maya holding a juice box while KK accidentally looked exhausted in the background.

So by the time you got home later that evening, you already knew something happened.

You just didn’t know what.

Until you opened the apartment door.

And froze.

The apartment was destroyed.

Absolutely destroyed.

Paige sat on the floor holding an ice pack against her forehead.

Azzi looked emotionally defeated.

KK was half asleep sitting upright.

And Sarah?

Sarah was sprinting past carrying Maya upside down over her shoulder while your daughter laughed hysterically.

“MOMMY!” Maya cheered happily the second she saw you.

Sarah stopped immediately.

Everyone went silent.

You slowly looked around.

“…Why is there glitter on the ceiling?”

Nobody answered.

Then your eyes narrowed.

“Maya.” You crouched slightly. “Did you have sugar today?”

Maya gasped dramatically before immediately pointing at Sarah.

“SHE DID IT.”

The entire team burst into laughter.

Sarah looked betrayed. “You snitched immediately?”

“You also didn’t bathe her,” you noticed.

Sarah looked nervous now.

“…Technically there was an attempt.”

“And why is she holding an iPad?”

Silence.

Complete silence.

You crossed your arms slowly while trying not to laugh.

Sarah looked so guilty it was almost cute.

Almost.

Then Maya climbed down from Sarah’s arms and ran to hug your legs.

“Mommy, Sarah and her friends are silly.”

You smiled despite yourself before looking back at Sarah.

And honestly?

Your heart melted a little.

Because despite the chaos…

Maya looked happy.

Safe.

Loved.

And Sarah?

She looked exhausted but completely devoted.

Like she genuinely tried her absolute best.

Sarah rubbed the back of her neck sheepishly. “In my defense… she’s really persuasive.”

You laughed softly finally.

Then Sarah brightened instantly.

“Wait, you’re not mad?”

“Oh, I’m definitely mad,” you teased.

Sarah groaned dramatically.

But then you walked over, kissing her softly anyway.

“Thank you for loving her like this.”

Sarah’s entire expression softened immediately.

Always soft when it came to you.

And especially soft when it came to Maya.

“Easy,” she whispered quietly. “She’s kinda my favorite tiny person.”

[kkandazzi]

Love Looks Good On Her - Jana El Alfy x Female Volleyball Player Reader 💙

Everyone on the University of Connecticut women’s basketball team knew one thing very quickly after Jana El Alfy started dating you.

Jana was gone.

Completely gone.

Hopelessly, embarrassingly in love.

And honestly?

The team never let her live it down.

“She’s smiling at her phone again,” Paige announced dramatically one afternoon during practice water break.

Jana immediately hid her phone against her chest defensively.

“I’m literally just texting.”

Azzi looked over her shoulder instantly. “That’s six heart emojis.”

Jana shrugged without shame. “Okay?”

KK groaned loudly. “Oh my God, she’s whipped.”

Jana didn’t even argue.

Because she was whipped.

Absolutely.

Especially because you somehow balanced being a volleyball player with still showing up for her constantly.

The two of you met through UConn athletics during Jana’s freshman year when your volleyball team shared training facilities with the basketball program sometimes.

At first, Jana only knew you as “the really pretty volleyball girl.”

Then one conversation turned into several.

Several turned into late-night texting.

And suddenly Jana was sitting courtside at volleyball games cheering louder than anyone else in the building.

The first time she watched you play, she genuinely lost her mind.

“You can JUMP,” Jana told you afterward like she’d just discovered fire.

You laughed. “I would hope so. I play volleyball.”

“No but seriously,” Jana insisted dramatically. “That was terrifying.”

And from there?

The relationship only got worse.

Or better.

Depends who you asked.

Jana talked about you constantly.

At practice.

On the bus.

During workouts.

Film sessions.

Absolutely everywhere.

“My girlfriend said—”

“My girlfriend likes that song.”

“My girlfriend has practice today.”

“My girlfriend made me food.”

Eventually Paige finally interrupted her during one road trip.

“Do you know any other words besides ‘my girlfriend’?”

Jana smiled proudly. “No.”

The team groaned instantly.

But the worst part?

Jana somehow became even better at basketball after dating you.

Which was deeply annoying to everyone else.

Because Jana already played with intensity naturally.

Strong rebounds.

Physical defense.

High energy.

But now?

She looked happier.

More confident.

Lighter.

And unfortunately for everyone guarding her—

Being in love apparently unlocked another level.

“She got twenty rebounds because her girlfriend was in the stands,” KK complained after practice.

Jana grinned immediately. “Exactly.”

Azzi pointed accusingly. “This is actually unfair.”

Because it was true.

Whenever you came to games, Jana played ridiculously well.

And everyone noticed the pattern quickly.

Especially because Jana always looked for you first in the crowd before tipoff.

Every single time.

You’d wave from the stands wearing one of her hoodies and Jana’s entire face softened instantly.

Then suddenly she’d go dominate on the court like her life depended on it.

“She plays like a woman in a romance movie,” Paige joked once.

And honestly?

That was accurate.

One particular game made it officially undeniable though.

You had a huge volleyball match earlier that same day and barely made it to Jana’s game in time.

You slipped into the arena only minutes before tipoff still wearing UConn volleyball sweats while trying to catch your breath.

Jana spotted you immediately during warmups.

And smiled so hard the assistant coach literally noticed.

“Oh Lord,” Paige muttered from nearby. “She saw her.”

“What does that mean?” a freshman asked nervously.

“It means Jana’s about to play like prime Shaq.”

She wasn’t wrong.

Because Jana played out of her mind that night.

Huge defensive stops.

Second-chance points.

Monster rebounds.

Pure energy from start to finish.

Every big play, she glanced toward the stands afterward almost automatically.

Like she needed you to see it.

And every time you cheered for her, she somehow played even harder.

By halftime, the team was already teasing her relentlessly.

“She’s trying to impress volleyball girl again,” KK laughed.

Jana pointed proudly. “And it’s working.”

“She’s actually glowing,” Azzi whispered dramatically.

Then came the fourth quarter.

UConn was already pulling away comfortably when Jana fought for a huge rebound before scoring through contact.

The crowd exploded.

And Jana immediately looked toward you afterward.

You stood up cheering loudly.

That stupid lovestruck smile appeared on her face instantly.

Paige threw her hands up from the bench.

“There it is again!”

Even Geno noticed eventually.

During postgame press, one reporter asked Jana what changed in her game recently because she looked more confident than ever.

Jana tried to answer normally.

Really she did.

But then she smiled.

And suddenly the whole team knew exactly where this was going.

“I think…” Jana paused shyly for a second. “I’m just really happy right now.”

The team burst into laughter immediately.

“Oh BROTHER,” Paige groaned from behind the cameras.

Jana started laughing too.

Because honestly?

They were right.

She was happier.

And somehow, loving you made everything else easier too.

Later that night after the game, Jana finally found you waiting outside the locker room.

The second she saw you, her face lit up completely.

“There’s my girl,” she said immediately.

You smiled softly. “You played amazing.”

Jana wrapped both arms around your waist proudly. “You came.”

“Of course I did.”

“I had twelve rebounds because you were watching.”

You laughed instantly. “That’s not how basketball works.”

“For me it is.”

Then she kissed your forehead gently before lowering her voice dramatically.

“You should actually come to every game forever.”

You smiled while brushing your fingers through her curls.

“Whipped.”

Jana grinned without hesitation.

“Extremely.”

[kkandazzi]

Like She Was Always Mine - KK Arnold x Older single mother Female Reader 💙

KK Arnold didn't mean to have a thing for older women.

It just... happened.

Somewhere between high school and college, KK realized she liked confidence. Calmness. Women who knew who they were already.

And maybe she also liked the way older women looked at her like she was more than basketball.

Still, she definitely wasn't expecting you.

The two of you met during her sophomore year at University of Connecticut after a mutual friend dragged KK to a local coffee shop one afternoon.

And the second she saw you behind the counter?

Yeah.

She was done for.

You were pretty in a soft kind of way. The kind that didn't even seem intentional.

You laughed easily.

Teased her immediately.

And worst of all?

You didn't care that she played basketball.

"Oh, you're the UConn girl," you said casually the first time she introduced herself.

KK blinked.

"The UConn girl?"

You shrugged. "You want your coffee or not?"

KK walked into a table trying to flirt with you ten minutes later.

Her teammates were ruthless afterward.

"She got game?" Paige laughed.

"No," KK groaned dramatically from the backseat. "I got nervous."

And somehow, despite all the teasing, you still agreed to go out with her.

Then another date.

Then another.

Until suddenly KK was spending most nights at your apartment after practice, stealing your hoodies and pretending she didn't like the reality shows you watched together.

For the first two months, KK genuinely thought it was just the two of you.

Then one random Thursday changed everything.

KK had accidentally left her UConn hoodie at your apartment the week before, so she stopped by quickly after practice to grab it before heading back to campus.

You opened the door smiling softly.

"There's the thief."

KK grinned immediately. "That hoodie is mine."

"Mhm. Sure."

She stepped inside casually, still sweaty from practice while you disappeared toward the laundry room to grab it.

KK was halfway toward the door when tiny footsteps suddenly padded down the hallway.

Then-

A tiny sleepy voice.

"Mommy?"

KK froze.

A little girl with messy curls and dinosaur pajamas wandered into the living room rubbing her eyes.

Four years old maybe.

And the second she saw KK-

Her entire face lit up.

"Mommy!" she gasped excitedly. "A new friend for me!"

Before KK could even react, the little girl sprinted toward her and wrapped tiny arms around her legs.

KK's heart nearly exploded on the spot.

You reappeared instantly looking horrified.

"Oh my God, Maya-"

But KK was already crouching down laughing softly.

"Hi there."

Your daughter smiled brightly. "I'm Maya."

KK melted immediately.

"That's a very cool name."

Maya nodded seriously before pointing at KK's braid. "I like your hair."

You looked beyond embarrassed. "I am so sorry-"

"Why are you apologizing?" KK asked softly, still smiling at Maya.

Because honestly?

Something in her chest shifted right then.

Completely.

She'd already liked you before.

A lot.

But seeing you as a mom?

Seeing this tiny little person who clearly adored you?

KK fell even harder.

Especially after Maya decided immediately that KK was her best friend.

By the end of the night, Maya had shown KK her stuffed animals, made her attend a fake tea party, and asked if basketball players got bedtime stories too.

And when KK finally left that evening, she sat in her car staring at the steering wheel for a solid minute.

Then immediately texted Paige.

I fear I'm in love fr this time.

-

One year later, Maya was attached to KK at the hip.

KK braided her hair before preschool sometimes.

Showed up with Happy Meals after big games.

Let Maya wear tiny UConn hoodies that absolutely drowned her.

And somehow, despite her crazy basketball schedule, KK always made time.

For both of you.

That was the thing that got you.

Not the flowers.

Not the flirting.

Not even the way she looked at you like you hung the moon.

It was the consistency.

The way she never made Maya feel like an obligation.

She loved your daughter naturally.

Like it was easy.

Like she'd been made for it.

And honestly?

That terrified you a little.

Because you were falling hard.

Harder than you meant to.

-

The UConn arena was loud after the win.

Students screaming.

Music blasting.

Fans celebrating after another huge game.

KK was near center court doing a postgame interview after helping lead UConn to the win, still slightly out of breath and smiling brightly while answering questions.

Meanwhile, you sat in the stands holding Maya on your hip.

At least-

You were holding her a second ago.

"Maya-?"

Your eyes widened instantly.

Because your daughter had somehow slipped away and was now sprinting directly onto the court.

"Oh my God."

You hurried after her immediately in complete panic while security looked startled.

But Maya was fast.

Especially for a four-year-old.

And the second KK noticed her tiny dinosaur sneakers racing across the floor-

Her entire face lit up.

"Maya!" KK laughed.

Your daughter launched herself directly into KK's arms without hesitation.

And KK caught her automatically.

Like it was instinct.

Like she'd done it a thousand times before.

The entire arena collectively melted.

Even the interviewer started laughing softly.

"She came to see me?" KK asked Maya dramatically while holding her on her hip.

Maya nodded proudly. "You did good basketball."

KK grinned so hard her cheeks hurt. "Thank you, baby."

Baby.

Your heart nearly stopped.

You finally reached them slightly breathless. "I am SO sorry-"

But KK looked at you like none of this bothered her even a little.

"It's okay," she laughed softly.

Then Maya wrapped tiny arms around KK's neck and rested her head against her shoulder so comfortably it looked completely natural.

And something inside your chest cracked wide open.

Because suddenly you could picture it too clearly.

Family movie nights.

School pickups.

KK teaching Maya basketball in the driveway someday.

A future.

A real one.

And standing there watching KK hold your daughter so carefully while smiling through the chaos-

You fell in love with her all over again.

Harder this time.

Because it wasn't just about you anymore.

It was about the way she loved Maya too.

Like she was always hers.

[kkandazzi]

More Than A Headline - Jessica Shepard x Female Reader 💙

Jessica Shepard didn’t mean to say it.

Honestly, it just slipped out naturally.

One second she was answering a postgame question about offseason training during an interview after a game, and the next—

“My wife actually helped me a lot with staying disciplined during the offseason,” Jessica said casually.

Silence.

Then every reporter in the room immediately perked up.

Jessica noticed it instantly.

And internally?

She knew she was cooked.

Because up until then, she’d kept your marriage extremely private.

Not secret exactly.

Just private.

The people who mattered knew.

Her teammates knew.

Close friends knew.

Family knew.

But the public?

Not really.

Jessica always preferred keeping her personal life separate from basketball. Especially because she worked hard to make sure people respected her for her game first.

Her rebounding.

Her passing.

Her IQ on the floor.

Not who she went home to at night.

Unfortunately, the internet had other plans.

Within hours, clips from the interview exploded online.

“JESSICA SHEPARD CONFIRMS SHE HAS A WIFE.”

“WNBA STAR SECRETLY MARRIED?”

“Fans shocked after Jessica Shepard revelation.”

Jessica hated every headline immediately.

Because suddenly, interviews stopped feeling normal.

The next few days became exhausting.

“What’s married life like?”

“How did you meet your wife?”

“Does she travel with you?”

“What does your wife think about your career?”

It never stopped.

And worst of all?

Hardly anyone asked about basketball anymore.

Not really.

Not in the way they used to.

Jessica would finish a game with a double-double and somehow reporters still found a way to circle back to you.

At first, she tried being polite.

Short answers.

Quick redirects.

Professional.

But internally, frustration kept building.

Because she loved you deeply.

More than anything.

But that wasn’t why she sat at press conferences.

She sat there to talk about basketball.

The sport she dedicated her entire life to.

And it started genuinely upsetting her.

One night after another frustrating media session, Jessica came home exhausted.

You were already laying in bed reading when she walked into the bedroom still visibly irritated.

“That bad?” you asked softly.

Jessica sighed heavily while pulling off her hoodie.

“I had eighteen rebounds tonight.”

You looked up immediately. “Baby, that’s incredible.”

“Apparently not incredible enough,” she muttered.

Your expression softened instantly.

Jessica climbed into bed beside you before dropping her head against your shoulder dramatically.

“They asked me one basketball question,” she complained. “One.”

You brushed your fingers gently through her hair while she vented.

“I’m happy people are supportive,” Jessica continued quietly. “I really am. But I feel like I’m turning into relationship gossip instead of an athlete.”

You nodded slowly.

Because honestly?

You understood exactly what she meant.

Jessica worked too hard for her career to have everything overshadowed by her personal life.

“They don’t respect boundaries because you haven’t really set any publicly yet,” you said carefully.

Jessica frowned slightly. “What do you mean?”

“You’re trying to politely redirect instead of directly telling them to stop.”

She looked thoughtful immediately.

You continued softly, “You’re allowed to decide what parts of your life stay private.”

Jessica stayed quiet for a second.

Then sighed. “I just don’t want to sound rude.”

You smiled softly. “Baby, setting boundaries isn’t rude.”

That made her finally look at you fully.

“You think I should say something?”

“I think,” you said gently, “that you deserve interviews where people respect you as a basketball player first.”

Jessica stared at you for a moment.

Then slowly—

She smiled.

Because somehow you always knew exactly what to say to settle the storm in her head.

“You’re smart,” she mumbled while pulling you closer.

“I know.”

Jessica laughed quietly for the first time all night.

—

A week later after another huge game, Jessica sat down at the postgame press conference already knowing exactly what she wanted to say.

The room quieted immediately.

Cameras ready.

Reporters waiting.

Jessica adjusted the microphone calmly before speaking first.

“Before we start,” she said evenly, “I want to set a boundary moving forward.”

The room instantly became attentive.

Jessica stayed calm.

Professional.

Confident.

“I’m happy people support me and my career,” she continued. “But these press conferences are for basketball. They’re for discussing games, teammates, strategy, and the sport itself.”

A few reporters shifted awkwardly already understanding where this was going.

Jessica continued anyway.

“My personal life is not going to be a recurring topic anymore. So from this point forward, any questions unrelated to basketball will not be answered.”

Complete silence filled the room.

Then Jessica added firmly:

“And if boundaries continue being ignored, those reporters will be removed from future media availability.”

That definitely got everyone’s attention.

One reporter awkwardly laughed a little like she might be joking.

Jessica didn’t laugh back.

The message landed immediately.

And honestly?

It worked.

The very next question was about defensive rotations.

Jessica almost smiled.

Almost.

Because finally—

Finally—

They were talking basketball again.

Later that night, Jessica walked through the front door looking lighter than she had in weeks.

You looked up from the couch immediately. “How’d it go?”

Jessica grinned slowly.

“I think I scared them.”

You burst out laughing.

She dropped onto the couch beside you before pulling you directly into her lap.

“No relationship questions?” you asked.

“Not one.”

Your smile softened proudly. “Good.”

Jessica leaned her forehead against yours tiredly.

“Thank you.”

“For what?”

“For reminding me I’m allowed to protect my peace.”

Your chest tightened a little at that.

Because Jessica spent so much of her life being strong for everyone else.

The media.

Her teammates.

Fans.

The league.

Sometimes she forgot she was allowed to say enough.

So you kissed her softly before smiling against her lips.

“You’re a basketball player first,” you whispered.

Jessica smiled immediately.

“Exactly.”

[kkandazzi]

The Life We Prayed For - Paige Bueckers x Female Reader fluff

Everyone knew Paige Bueckers loved basketball.

But very few people knew how much she loved you.

That was intentional.

Paige spent years learning how to balance attention, cameras, expectations, and eventually fame as her basketball career exploded from high school all the way through University of Connecticut and into the WNBA.

People always wanted more from her.

More interviews.

More access.

More of her personal life.

And Paige hated that part.

Because from the moment she met you freshman year of high school?

She knew you were something precious.

Something she wanted to protect.

Not hide.

Protect.

The first time Paige saw you, she was immediately distracted.

You had transferred into Hopkins High School halfway through the semester, quietly slipping into class with headphones around your neck and a nervous smile while the teacher introduced you.

Paige spent the entire class staring.

Completely obvious about it too.

"You know she can probably feel you staring, right?" one of her friends whispered afterward.

Paige shrugged without shame. "I think I'm gonna marry her."

"You don't even know her name."

Five minutes later Paige absolutely did know your name.

And by the end of the week?

She knew your favorite snacks, your favorite music artist, and the fact that you color-coded literally everything.

She was down horrendously.

By sophomore year, the two of you were inseparable.

You sat through basketball games doing homework in the bleachers.

Paige walked you to every class she could.

The two of you stayed up on FaceTime until ridiculous hours despite seeing each other all day already.

And eventually, after months of painfully obvious flirting, Paige finally asked you to homecoming.

She was more nervous for that than any basketball game she'd ever played.

"Why are you pacing?" her mom asked.

"What if she says no?"

"Paige," her mom laughed. "That girl looks at you like you hung the moon."

Still, Paige nearly passed out waiting for your answer.

Then you smiled softly and said-

"I was wondering when you'd ask me."

That was it for her.

Completely over.

The two of you survived high school together first.

Then college.

When Paige committed to UConn, you made the decision to move to Connecticut with her after graduation, determined to support her dreams the same way she supported yours.

And through everything-the pressure, the injuries, the nonstop media attention-you stayed steady beside her.

Especially after Paige's ACL injury during college.

There were nights she sat on the bathroom floor frustrated and exhausted while you gently rubbed her back and reminded her she was still the same person with or without basketball.

"You don't have to earn being loved," you whispered one night while she cried quietly into your shoulder.

Paige swore she fell even harder in love with you right then.

The summer before sophomore year of college, the two of you got secretly married.

Tiny courthouse.

Immediate family only.

No social media.

No public announcement.

Just soft vows and tearful smiles.

Paige cried first.

You cried harder after seeing her cry.

"You're my wife," Paige whispered afterward like she still couldn't believe it.

"Forever," you whispered back.

And somehow, life only became sweeter after that.

During junior year, conversations about starting a family became more serious.

Paige always talked about wanting kids someday.

Not someday far away either.

Real someday.

Soon someday.

"I want a little boy," she admitted one night while laying across your lap. "Or a little girl. I don't care. I just want a family with you."

"You already have one."

Paige smiled softly. "I want tiny shoes in the hallway too."

So quietly, during junior year, the two of you started the IVF process.

And unbelievably-

It worked the very first try during senior year.

Paige genuinely thought she was hallucinating when you showed her the positive pregnancy test.

"No way," she whispered.

Then louder-

"No actual way."

You started laughing while tears filled your eyes.

Paige immediately dropped to her knees in front of you, hands gripping your waist gently like she was scared this wasn't real.

"We're having a baby?" she whispered emotionally.

You nodded.

And Paige completely lost it.

She cried harder than she did winning basketball awards.

Harder than she did after huge games.

And from that moment on?

She became the most emotional person alive.

She downloaded parenting apps immediately.

Read baby books during road trips.

Talked to your stomach before every game.

Prayed over you constantly.

And somehow, all the happiness made her even better on the court.

Her teammates swore impending fatherhood unlocked another level in her game.

"She's playing like a woman with a mortgage and a family to feed," Azzi joked once.

Paige pointed proudly. "Exactly."

By the time graduation arrived, your son was only a few months away from being born.

And while the WNBA draft approached quickly, Paige promised you one thing over and over again.

"You and the baby come first."

Always.

No matter what.

So when the Dallas Wings drafted her, the first person Paige looked for was you.

The second her name was called, she burst into tears before grabbing your face with both hands.

"We're going to Dallas," she whispered emotionally.

"You did it," you cried.

"No," Paige corrected softly, resting a hand against your pregnant stomach. "We did."

Dallas became home faster than either of you expected.

A small house.

Baby clothes everywhere.

Paige trying to build nursery furniture at two in the morning while cursing under her breath.

And despite being a WNBA rookie, she still somehow made you feel like the center of her entire universe.

Then came the night Leo was born.

Paige was away for a road game while you stayed home in Dallas at thirty-eight weeks pregnant.

"Text me if literally anything feels weird," Paige warned before leaving.

You laughed softly. "Baby, I promise."

"You better."

That night, you sat curled on the couch watching the game proudly wearing one of Paige's hoodies.

She looked incredible out there.

Focused.

Confident.

Happy.

Then suddenly-

Pain shot through your stomach.

You froze instantly.

Another contraction hit minutes later.

"Oh my God."

Everything after that happened fast.

Your friend rushed you to the hospital while Paige remained completely unaware because phones weren't allowed during games.

Meanwhile, Paige finished the game smiling during postgame interviews with absolutely no idea her entire world was changing.

It wasn't until almost four hours later when she finally checked her phone.

17 missed calls.

Texts.

Voicemails.

One message from your friend:

SHE'S IN LABOR.

Paige nearly dropped her phone.

"She WHAT?"

Her teammates watched in alarm as Paige grabbed her bags immediately.

"I HAVE TO GO."

The trip back to Dallas felt endless.

Paige spent almost the entire flight praying.

Please let them be okay.

Please let me make it.

Please.

And when she finally burst into the hospital room breathless and exhausted-

She stopped completely.

Because there you were in bed holding a tiny baby wrapped in a blue blanket.

Your son.

Leo.

Paige's entire face softened instantly.

"Oh my God," she whispered emotionally.

You smiled tiredly. "Hi."

Paige walked toward you slowly like she was scared the moment would disappear if she moved too quickly.

Then she looked down at Leo.

And absolutely melted.

He was tiny.

Perfect.

Sleepy.

And somehow already looked a little like both of you.

Paige started crying immediately.

"You made him," she whispered in awe.

"We made him," you corrected softly.

Paige leaned down carefully, kissing your forehead first.

Then Leo's tiny head.

And in that moment?

Nothing else mattered.

Not basketball.

Not fame.

Not cameras.

Not pressure.

Just this.

Her wife.

Her son.

Her family.

The life she spent years praying God would give her.

And as Paige finally held Leo against her chest for the very first time, tears slipped quietly down her face while she looked at you.

"I fell in love with you all over again tonight."

[kkandazzi]

UCONN WBB MASTERLIST

FLUFF-💙

ANGST-❤️

KK ARNOLD

Launch Gone Wrong - KK Arnold x Female Reader fluff 💙

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

[kkandazzi]

Launch Gone Wrong - KK Arnold x Female Reader fluff 💙

“You posted WHAT?”

KK stared at her phone in horror while sitting in the locker room at University of Connecticut.

Paige was already wheezing beside her.

“OH MY GOD,” Paige laughed, practically falling off the bench. “You hard launched!”

“I DID NOT HARD LAUNCH,” KK argued immediately.

“You literally posted a picture kissing her cheek.”

KK’s eyes widened further. “WAIT WHAT?”

The entire locker room erupted.

Azzi nearly dropped her water bottle laughing while Ice Brady leaned over KK’s shoulder trying to look at the post.

“Girl, that is NOT subtle,” Azzi said through laughter.

KK grabbed her phone so fast she almost fumbled it.

And there it was.

Third slide.

A mirror selfie of you sitting on the bathroom counter while KK stood between your knees, your arms around her neck, her face turned into your cheek kissing you softly while you smiled at the camera.

She had meant to post the first picture only.

Not the entire carousel.

Not the relationship reveal.

Not the accidental confirmation that yes, KK Arnold had a girlfriend.

“…Oh my God.”

Paige snorted loudly. “The comments are already going crazy.”

KK buried her face in her hands.

You and KK had been together almost a year, but both of you kept things relatively private. Not secret—her teammates knew you, her coaches knew you, and everyone at UConn basically knew already—but online?

That was different.

Especially with women’s basketball growing as quickly as it was.

Especially with fans paying attention to everything.

And now apparently the entire internet knew she was hopelessly in love with you.

Her phone buzzed violently every two seconds.

Instagram notifications.

Twitter mentions.

TikToks already being made.

“Oh, you’re cooked,” Paige said gleefully.

KK groaned dramatically. “She’s literally gonna kill me.”

But before she could panic any further, her screen lit up with your contact photo.

❤️ my girl ❤️

KK answered instantly.

“Baby, I swear—”

Your laugh immediately cut her off.

And just like that, the panic eased from her chest.

“You hard launched us,” you teased.

“I DIDN’T MEAN TO.”

“You posted four pictures of me.”

“I thought I selected one!”

Now you were laughing harder.

KK slumped dramatically against the locker. “This is the worst day of my life.”

“No it’s not,” you said softly.

Her expression shifted immediately.

Because underneath the teasing, you sounded genuinely okay.

“You’re not upset?” KK asked carefully.

“Why would I be?”

KK blinked. “Because now everyone knows?”

“And?”

KK frowned slightly.

You smiled on the other end of the phone. “KK, you know I love you, right?”

That softened her instantly.

“Yeah,” she said quietly.

“And you know I’m proud to be with you?”

“…Yeah.”

“Then why would I care if people know?”

KK went quiet.

Across the locker room, Paige mouthed, “AWWWW,” while pretending to wipe tears.

KK threw a sock at her.

You laughed softly through the phone. “Besides, your fans are being sweet.”

“Somebody commented ‘KK won at life,’” Azzi announced loudly from nearby.

Another teammate gasped. “WAIT this edit already has fifty thousand likes.”

KK groaned again. “I hate everybody.”

“No you don’t,” you said immediately.

And annoyingly—

You were right.

Because once the initial panic wore off, KK started actually reading the comments.

People calling you both cute.

Fans joking that KK looked “down astronomically.”

Others saying they loved seeing athletes happy outside basketball.

And honestly?

KK couldn’t stop smiling.

Especially because every single photo in that post looked like proof of how loved she was.

There was one of you asleep on her shoulder during a team flight.

One blurry candid from late-night food runs after practice.

One where you wore her UConn hoodie three sizes too big.

And then the accidental cheek kiss picture.

Her favorite.

The one she secretly stared at the longest.

“You know what?” KK said suddenly while standing up.

“What?”

“Maybe I’m keeping it up.”

You laughed. “Oh really?”

“Mhm.”

“You were literally having a crisis thirty seconds ago.”

“I’ve grown since then.”

Paige nearly choked laughing.

KK ignored her completely.

Because honestly?

You looked beautiful in every photo.

And if the world was finally seeing what she saw every day—

Maybe that wasn’t such a bad thing.

Later that night, after practice ended and the media chaos finally slowed down, KK showed up at your apartment still wearing her UConn sweats.

The second you opened the door, she wrapped both arms around your waist dramatically.

“My famous girlfriend,” she sighed.

You smiled instantly. “Your fans love me apparently.”

“Obviously.” KK looked at you like the answer should’ve been clear. “I knew they would.”

Your heart melted a little at that.

KK had never once made you feel less important because you weren’t an athlete. Never made you feel out of place around her basketball world.

If anything, she pulled you into it proudly.

You leaned up, kissing her softly. “You’re ridiculous.”

“Yeah,” KK grinned against your lips. “But I’m your ridiculous girlfriend.”

And this time?

When she posted another picture of you later that night—

It was completely intentional.

[kkandazzi]

DALLAS WINGS MASTERLIST

FLUFF-💙

ANGST-❤️

AZZI FUDD

The Courtesy of Goodbye -❤️

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

PAIGE BUECKERS

The Life We Prayed For - Paige Bueckers x Female Reader 💙

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

[kkandazzi]

The Courtesy of Goodbye

Azzi fudd x female reader angst

Azzi angst because why not but also I'm bored so why not Post something sad

You still remembered the first thing Azzi Fudd ever said to you.

“You look like you hate this party.”

It had been freshman year of college. Your mutual friend had dragged you to some overcrowded dorm get-together where music blasted too loud and the air smelled like cheap pizza and perfume. You’d been sitting on the kitchen counter nursing a soda while trying not to look painfully out of place.

Then Azzi appeared beside you in sweatpants and a hoodie, completely unbothered by the chaos around her.

“And you look like you’d rather be at practice,” you shot back.

That made her laugh.

From that moment on, everything clicked too easily.

You weren’t an athlete. You spent your days buried in textbooks and lesson plans, studying to become an elementary school teacher someday. Meanwhile, Azzi lived inside packed arenas, early morning workouts, cameras, interviews, expectations.

Different worlds.

But somehow, you fit together perfectly.

She’d come over after late practices and fall asleep on your couch while you highlighted notes for class. You’d quiz her before exams while she braided absentmindedly pieces of your hair around her fingers. She taught you basketball terminology; you helped her decorate presentation boards for some random elective she hated.

By sophomore year, everyone already knew.

You and Azzi.

Azzi and you.

Completely inseparable.

And when she kissed you for the first time outside the library in the pouring rain after walking you home, she whispered against your lips—

“I’ve wanted to do that for months.”

You loved her so hard it scared you sometimes.

And she loved you right back.

So when graduation came and the WNBA draft followed shortly after, neither of you wanted to admit how terrified you were.

Especially after Dallas Wings selected her.

Dallas.

Far from Connecticut. Far from campus. Far from you.

The night before she moved, the two of you sat on your apartment floor surrounded by half-packed boxes and takeout containers neither of you had touched.

“We can do this,” Azzi said quietly.

You looked at her. “Long distance?”

“For a little while.” She reached for your hand immediately. “Just until I get settled. I’ll find a place, get comfortable with the team, figure everything out… then you’ll come to Dallas after you finish your semester.”

“And nothing changes?” you asked softly.

“Nothing changes.”

She kissed your forehead.

“I love you too much to lose you.”

So you believed her.

For six months, it worked.

FaceTime calls every night.

Good morning texts.

Photos from practice.

Videos of you ranting about your students during observation hours.

You watched every game you could. She called you after wins. After losses. Sometimes she’d fall asleep on FaceTime with the TV still running softly in the background.

Then slowly…

Things changed.

Her replies got shorter.

Calls became less frequent.

“I’m just exhausted, baby.”

“Practice ran long.”

“I’ll call you tomorrow.”

Tomorrow became next week.

Then nothing.

At first, you defended her to yourself.

She’s busy.

She’s adjusting.

She’s overwhelmed.

But days turned into weeks.

Weeks turned into two months.

And suddenly you were staring at a silent phone every night wondering how someone who once couldn’t go an hour without talking to you could disappear so completely.

You cried more than you wanted to admit.

You stopped talking about her to your friends because the pity in their eyes made your stomach hurt.

Eventually, during your semester break, you made a decision.

You’d surprise her.

Maybe something was wrong. Maybe she was struggling. Maybe she needed you and didn’t know how to ask.

You booked the flight to Dallas without telling her.

And halfway through the flight, everything shattered.

You had her press conference playing quietly through your headphones while reporters asked the usual questions about the season, adjusting to the league, team chemistry.

Then someone asked—

“Azzi, are you seeing anyone right now?”

Your stomach twisted instinctively.

Azzi smiled politely.

“No, I’m not dating anyone. Relationships would honestly just be a distraction right now.”

You stopped breathing.

The words replayed in your head over and over.

No, I’m not dating anyone.

Distraction.

Your chest physically hurt.

A flight attendant asked if you were okay after noticing the tears sliding silently down your face, but you couldn’t even answer.

You just stared out the airplane window wondering how the girl who once promised nothing could come between you had erased you like you never existed at all.

By the time you landed in Dallas, your heartbreak had turned into something numb.

You drove straight to her apartment.

Your hands shook violently while knocking on the door.

And when it opened—

Azzi froze.

Completely froze.

Her eyes widened instantly. “Baby—”

“Don’t.”

Your voice cracked immediately.

Behind her, a few of her teammates sat scattered around the apartment, conversations dying instantly from the tension.

You recognized some of them from games and social media, but you barely cared. Everything sounded distant.

Azzi stepped toward you carefully. “Please let me explain—”

“Explain what?” tears spilled freely now. “Explain how I had to find out through a stupid fucking press conference that apparently I’m not your girlfriend anymore?”

The room went dead silent.

Azzi looked horrified. “That’s not what I meant—”

“Then what did you mean?” you snapped. “Because you stopped answering me, Azzi. For two months. Two months I sat there thinking maybe something happened to you while you were out here pretending I didn’t exist.”

One of her teammates quietly stood up from the couch. Another looked away awkwardly.

Azzi’s eyes were glossy now. “I didn’t know how to—”

“You didn’t know how to break up with me?” Your laugh came out broken and bitter. “Wow. You couldn’t even give me the courtesy of doing it in person? Or over text?”

She reached for you instinctively, panic all over her face. “Baby, please—”

You stepped back immediately.

“No.” Your voice trembled violently. “I hope it was worth it, Azzi.”

That visibly hit her.

Hard.

“I’ll ship your stuff back to you.”

Then you turned around before she could see you completely fall apart.

“Don’t contact me again.”

“Y/N!” she called desperately.

You kept walking.

“Y/N, please!”

Her voice cracked behind you.

But you never looked back.