Summary: Michael Jackson had never heard of you until tonight. But the second your name echoed through the Grammys for winning Best New Artist, everything around him seemed to blur. Your beauty caught his attention instantly, but it was your voice…soft, graceful, real-
Author’s Note: Hi everyone! 🤍 This is officially my first story on here, and I’m really excited to share it with you all! This is not a one shot — I already have a part 2 planned and I’ll most likely upload it later today or tomorrow. I hope you enjoy reading it as much as I enjoyed writing it ✨
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The soft golden lights poured over the massive theater, reflecting against diamonds, silk dresses, and polished shoes as applause echoed endlessly throughout the room. Conversations mixed together like music itself, artists from every genre gathered under one roof to celebrate greatness.
The Grammys were always loud.
Applause.
Laughter.
People whispering to one another while pretending not to stare.
Michael had attended enough award shows to know exactly how the night would go. Smile for the cameras. Accept an award. Shake hands. Thank the audience. Repeat.
It had become routine.
He sat comfortably in his seat near the front row, black curls falling softly around his face while his fingers rested against his chin. Every now and then someone approached him just to say hello or congratulate him on another nomination.
“The King of Pop everybody,” someone had joked earlier.
Michael only smiled politely. He was used to titles like that now.
Truthfully, nights like these no longer excited him the way they once had. There was always another award. Another performance. Another headline.
Nothing surprised him anymore.
Until now.
“And now,” the announcer spoke brightly into the microphone, “the Grammy for Best New Artist.”
A few cheers echoed around the room. Michael looked up casually toward the screen displaying the nominees.
That was when he saw you for the first time.
Your picture appeared beside the others, but somehow Michael’s attention stayed on you alone.
You looked… different.
Not overly polished.
Not fake.
Not trying too hard.
Just beautiful. Effortlessly so.
Michael found himself leaning forward slightly in his seat without realizing it.
“And the Grammy goes to…”
The audience grew quiet.
“Y/N L/N!”
The room exploded into applause instantly.
Michael blinked.
Your face appeared on the giant screen, eyes wide in pure shock as both of your hands flew over your mouth. The people around you screamed excitedly while you sat frozen for a moment like you genuinely couldn’t believe your own name had just been called.
It made Michael smile softly.
You weren’t expecting it.
That much was obvious.
Slowly, you stood from your seat, smoothing your outfit nervously while making your way toward the stage. Cameras followed your every movement, but you barely seemed aware of them.
Michael couldn’t stop staring.
The closer you got to the stage, the more he noticed little things about you.
The slight shake in your hands.
The shy smile pulling at your lips.
The way you kept taking tiny breaths like you were trying not to cry.
Something about it felt… real.
Not rehearsed.
Real.
When you finally reached the microphone, the applause slowly settled. You looked out into the crowd for a brief second before laughing softly under your breath.
“Oh my God…” you whispered.
The sound of your voice alone made Michael straighten slightly in his chair.
It was smooth. Gentle. Warm enough to melt through every layer he kept around himself.
You glanced down at the Grammy in your hands before speaking again.
“I don’t even know what to say right now,” you admitted with a nervous smile, causing a few people in the audience to laugh softly.
“I honestly didn’t think I’d win anything tonight. I was just happy to be here.”
Michael’s eyes never left you.
Not once.
Most artists walked onto that stage desperate to sound important. To prove something.
But you stood there vulnerable instead.
And somehow, that affected him more than he wanted to admit.
You thanked your family first, voice trembling slightly. Then your producers. Your fans. Every word sounded sincere, like you truly meant every thank you leaving your lips.
Michael felt his chest tighten unexpectedly.
You reminded him of himself before the fame became overwhelming. Before every appearance had to be perfect. Before he learned how lonely success could actually feel.
Then your eyes scanned across the audience briefly.
For one second, just one-
your gaze met his.
And Michael swore his breath caught in his throat.
You smiled politely before looking away again, completely unaware of the effect you’d just had on him.
But Michael noticed.
Oh, he noticed everything.
By the time your speech ended, he was already on his feet applauding before most people around him had even stood up.
His rings clinked softly together as he clapped, eyes fixed entirely on you while you smiled shyly and exited the stage.
He watched until you disappeared backstage completely.
Then he sat back down slowly, unable to explain the strange feeling settling deep inside his chest.
Curiosity.
Admiration.
Yearning.
Maybe all three.
Because suddenly the award show didn’t matter anymore.
The first day home from the hospital with baby Katelyn shows just how good of a dad joe already is.
dad!joe x actress!reader
cw: sickening fluff :)
The drive home is slower than the drive there.
Joe takes every turn like the car is made of glass. Like the roads are new. Like he has never in his life operated a vehicle and is only now understanding the stakes involved.
You watch him check the rearview mirror for the sixth time in four minutes and don’t say anything, because honestly, you’re doing the same thing.
Your twisting in the passenger seat every thirty seconds to look at Katelyn in her car seat, who is asleep, who is completely fine, who does not know that her parents are running on three hours of combined sleep and approximately forty percent of their usual cognitive function.
“She good?” Joe asks.
“She’s good.”
Thirty seconds.
“She good?”
“Joe.”
“Yep, okay.”
He checks the mirror again.
The apartment smells like the candle your best friend must have lit and then extinguished before leaving. It’s a welcome-home instinct, a good one. Someone has put flowers on the kitchen counter, tulips, pale pink, with a card that you don’t read yet because you are focused entirely on the task of getting inside.
Joe sets the car seat down on the living room rug and crouches in front of it and just looks at her for a second.
“Okay,” he says.
“Okay,” you echo.
Neither of you moves.
“So she’s here now,” he says.
“She’s here now.”
“In our house.”
“In our house.”
He looks up at you. There’s something on his face that isn’t quite fear and isn’t quite awe. It’s the specific expression of a person standing at the edge of something enormous, squinting into it, trying to take the measure of it.
Then he reaches out and unbuckles Katelyn from the seat with the focused care of someone defusing something, lifts her against his chest, and stands up.
“Cool,” he says. “Cool.. Great. We’re fine. This is fine.”
Katelyn sleeps through all of it.
The first feeding is 11 p.m.
You hear her before the monitor even catches up . It’s some new frequency your body has apparently tuned itself to without asking, some biological thing.
You’re already sitting up when Joe stirs beside you.
“I’ve got her,” you say.
“I’m up,” he says, which is either a lie or an aspiration; his eyes are still closed.
“Joe, go back to sleep.”
“I’m up,” he says again, and this time he actually opens his eyes, and pushes himself to sitting with the slow determination of a man operating on will alone.
His hair is going in four directions. He looks like he lost a fight with the pillow. He gets up anyway.
You nurse Katelyn in the chair in the corner of her room. The pale pink room, the one that still smells faintly of paint under the lavender of the plug-in diffuser.
Joe sits on the floor with his back against the wall, knees pulled up, watching.
“You don’t have to sit here,” you tell him.
“I know.”
“You could sleep.”
“I’m aware of that option, yeah.”
He pulls his knees up a little more and tips his head back against the wall. In the soft glow of the nightlight he looks young and rumpled and very awake.
“How is she?” he asks.
“Eating.”
“Good. Good, that’s— yeah.” He nods like this is useful information he will file away. Then: “How are you?”
The question lands differently than you expected.
Not “are you okay” which you’d have deflected without thinking, but “how are you,” which opens a door you’re not sure you’re ready to walk through— Especially at 11pm in a lavender-scented room with your daughter attached to your chest and your body feeling like a stranger’s.
“Tired,” you say, which is true but not the whole truth.
Joe looks at you.
“Yeah? What else, baby?” he asks, quiet.
You look down at Katelyn. Her eyes are closed. Her fist is curled against your skin.
“I don’t know yet,” you say honestly. “I think I need a few days to figure out what’s me being tired and what’s something else.”
He doesn’t push. He doesn’t offer a solution or talk you out of the feeling or make it smaller.
He just nods, slow, and says: “Okay. Tell me when you know. Or when you don’t know. Either way.”
“Okay,” you say smiling faintly.
Katelyn makes a small sound. A rearrangement of herself. Something that communicates, in the universal language of newborns: I’m still here. Pay attention.
“Yeah, yeah,” Joe tells her from the floor. “We see you.”
2 a.m. is his.
You hear them through the monitor, a small mercy, he’s taken her to the living room so you can sleep. You lie in bed for a few minutes in the dark just listening.
“Okay,” Joe is saying. “Okay, I hear you. I hear you. I don’t know what you want me to do about it, but I want you to know that I’m listening.”
Katelyn, undeterred, continues.
“Is it the swaddle? I feel like it’s the swaddle.” A pause. “I redid the swaddle. That was.. okay, that’s not it.” Another pause, longer. “What if I—here. Here, how’s that.” The volume dips. “There you go. See? See? We figured it out.”
A few seconds of quiet.
“Don’t look at me like that. I have no idea why that worked either.”
You smile at the ceiling. You’re asleep within four minutes.
4 a.m. you’re up again before he can get to her, and this time something is different. You can’t name it exactly it’s a thickness behind your eyes, a weight that isn’t just physical.
You sit in the chair with Katelyn and the tears come without warning, without narrative, without any cause you can identify. They just arrive. Quiet and steady.
You’re not scared. You’d read about this. You’d been told. But knowing a thing is coming and having it arrive are different things. You sit in the pale pink room at 4 a.m. and cry without entirely knowing why, with Katelyn in your arms, both of you in her nightlight’s glow.
Joe appears in the doorway at some point. You don’t know how long he’s been there.
He comes in and doesn’t say anything immediately, just crouches in front of you, elbows on his knees, and looks at your face.
“Hi,” he says.
“Hi.” Your voice comes out wrecked. “Sorry. I don’t.. I’m not sad, I think. I don’t know what this is.”
“You don’t have to know what it is.”
“I feel stupid.”
“Don’t.” He says it simply, without force, and reaches out to tuck a strand of hair behind your ear. “You just had a baby. You can cry.”
“I cried in the shower earlier too.”
“I know. I heard.”
“Why didn’t you—”
“Because you didn’t ask me to come in.” He says this matter-of-factly, no edge to it. “But I stayed outside the door.”
You look at him.
“The whole time?” you ask.
“Yeah.”
You breathe. It goes a little ragged in the middle and smooths out at the end.
“I feel like my body isn’t mine right now,” you say, slowly, testing the words as they come out. “Like I’m borrowing it from someone and I don’t know the terms of the lease.”
He takes that in. Doesn’t try to fix it.
“That sounds really disorienting,” he says.
“It is.” You look down at Katelyn, who has fallen back asleep against you, completely unbothered.
“She has no idea. That’s wild to me. She has absolutely no idea.”
“She knows you,” Joe says. “Apparently that’s like, the first thing they figure out. Your voice. Your smell.” He pauses. “I looked it up at earlier.”
“Of course you did.”
“I’ve looked up a lot of things tonight.”
“Like what?”
He lists them on his fingers. “Why babies hate being put down. Whether it’s normal if they make that noise.. the kind of like, pterodactyl noise—”
“It’s normal.”
“I know, I found that out. Also the best swaddle technique, which I’ve now watched a video on five times, and I think I’ve cracked it. And also..”he pauses. “Whether postpartum stuff can start right away or if it takes longer.”
You go quiet.
“I wasn’t going to bring it up,” he says, “unless you did. But I wanted to know what to look for.”
You look at him for a long moment.
“Joe.”
“Yeah.”
“You’re going to be really annoying about being good at this, aren’t you.”
He huffs. Looks away. But his mouth does the thing it does when he’s trying not to smile. “I mean. I wouldn’t use the word annoying.”
Morning comes in sideways through the curtains, that specific pale gold of early spring.
Katelyn is in the bassinet, Joe had moved her because he said he “needed to watch her.” She’s actually sleeping, which she has been doing for a full forty-seven minutes, which is, as far as you are both currently concerned, an extraordinary achievement.
You are in bed. Joe has brought coffee, which you can only have a cautious amount of. He’s sitting up against the headboard with his mug, reading something on his phone.
You’re lying with your head on his leg, not sleeping but you’re not awake either. You’re in a soft middle place, the one that only exists when you feel completely safe.
The morning light is catching the side of his face. There’s a crease from the pillow still on his cheek. He’s been awake for most of the last seventy-two hours and he is smiling at a texts from his sisters about his new daughter like it’s the best thing that’s happened to him all week.
“Hey,” you say.
He looks down.
“Thank you,” you say. “For this week. For all of it.”
“You don’t have to thank me.”
“I know. I want to.”
He sets the phone down and his hand finds your hair, easy and unhurried.
“I’m exactly where I want to be,” he says. Simply. Like it isn’t even a complex thing.
From the bassinet, Katelyn makes the pterodactyl noise.
Joe is up before you can move, crossing the room in three steps, leaning over her with his hands braced on the sides of the bassinet.
“Good morning,” you hear him say. “Look who’s awake. Look at you.”
A pause.
“You slept forty-seven minutes,” he tells her.
“That’s really good. I’m proud of you, babygirl.”
You put the pillow over your face. You are smiling so hard your cheeks hurt.
“I know, I know,” he’s saying. “You’re hungry. Okay. Here—” and then the sound of him picking her up, the familiar recalibration of his voice going softer, “here we go. I’ve got you. Let’s go get your mama.”
He comes back to the bed with her and deposits her gently into your arms, then gets back in beside you. You nurse her in the morning light with your head tipped against his shoulder and his arm around you both.
Outside the city is starting up, people are on their way to work, tabloids about Katelyn are starting to make the round, the tulips on the counter are probably past their peak by now, and none of that matters even slightly.
Katelyn eats. Joe steals a sip of your coffee because he already finished his. You let him.
“She’s got your nose,” he says, for what is probably the eighth time since she was born.
“You’ve said that.”
“It keeps being true.”
You look down at her. At the small perfect unfathomable fact of her.
“Yeah,” you say. “Okay.”
The morning holds. The three of you stay still inside it.
Pairing: Tiger hybrid!Sukuna x fem!zookeeper!reader
Snow leopard Gojo and Bull Toji were a pain in the ass to work with...but you managed to earn their trust and maybe even their affection. But after Tiger Sukuna has driven all his past zookeepers away, you've now been assigned to care for him. Will you tame this wild beast or crumble like the others?
Context: Hybrid AU, Slow burn, Sexual tension, his fuzzy ears and tail are pink that match his hair color, he has dull, enlarged fangs, Sukuna's a little shit, Reader’s super patient w/ him, Made-up Sukuna's backstory, cannibalism, He's in denial, eventual Jealous Sukuna, eventual fluff/smut (rut), catnip, breeding, knotting, dad!kuna, happy ending
Chapter 1: The True King of the Jungle
Taglist currently on hold! (I’ll update this as soon as a figure out how many people I’m tagging) In addition, please inform me if you’ll still like to be tagged when smut chapter are posted for this series—for those chapters, please make sure your age is listed somewhere on your bio/page, must be 18+)
A/N: Saturday chapter as promised. This one has lots of sweet moments but also gets a bit serious in the middle. Tried to lighten it up towards the end. Please read content warnings before (!!) and sorry for the lowkey cliffhanger…
WC: 12.6K
Content Warning: sexual themes 18+, language, discussions surrounding body image/dysmorphia
Wednesday
Over the last few weeks, it appeared that Azzi Fudd came to the conclusion that the world's best pillow was a 6 ft blonde girl from Minnesota. Paige didn't mind, of course, but it was awfully hard not to disturb Azzi getting her beauty sleep when Paige's phone was buzzing incessantly on the nightstand.
Arike: how's your girlfriend
Paige: she's not my girlfriend
Arike: she's slept over like all week bro. just admit ur u-hauling
Arike: anyway. we got practice at 10. don't be late
Paige: it's azzi's day off
Arike: ik. that's why i'm telling YOU not to be late
Arike: cause ur ass is gonna want to spend every second with her
Arike: simp
Paige: shut the hell up bruh
Arike: i just call it how i see it
Paige set her phone down and looked at Azzi again. She really didn't want to wake her up, but she also really didn't want to leave without saying goodbye. That felt wrong somehow, like she'd be sneaking out, even though this was her own apartment.
"Az," she whispered, gently running her fingers through Azzi's curls. "Baby, wake up."
Azzi made a small grumble of protest and burrowed deeper into Paige's side.
"Come on," Paige said, smiling. "I gotta get to practice."
"No," Azzi mumbled, her voice thick with sleep. "Stay."
"I wish I could." Paige pressed a kiss to her forehead. "But Coach will kill me if I'm late."
Azzi finally opened her eyes, blinking up at Paige with a sleepy, confused expression that was so cute that Paige wanted to take a picture and frame it. "What time is it?"
"Almost eight."
"Ugh." Azzi groaned and rolled onto her back, stretching. The sheet slipped down, and Paige's eyes immediately went to the curve of her waist and her toned. "I don't want you to go."
"I don't want to go either." Paige leaned over and kissed her, slow and sweet. "But I'll be done by like one. It's just a shootaround and film. You doing anything today?"
"It's my day off," Azzi said, her hands coming up to cup Paige's face. "So no. Why?"
"I want to take you somewhere."
Azzi's eyebrows raised. "Where?"
"It's a surprise."
"I don't like surprises."
"You'll like this one," Paige said, grinning. "Trust me."
Azzi studied her for a moment, then smiled. "Okay. Fine. But if it's something weird, I'm leaving."
"It's not weird." Paige kissed her again, then reluctantly pulled away. "I gotta shower and get ready. You can stay here if you want, or I can drive you home first."
"I'll stay," Azzi said, sitting up and pulling the sheet around herself. "I'll make breakfast or something."
"You don't have to do that."
"I want to." Azzi leaned in and kissed her one more time. "Go. Before you're late."
Paige showered quickly, trying not to think about the fact that Azzi was in her kitchen, probably wearing one of her shirts, making breakfast like they did this all the time. Like this was normal. It felt normal, which was maybe the scariest part.
When she came out, dressed in her practice gear, Azzi was at the stove flipping protein pancakes. She was wearing one of Paige's UConn t-shirts and a pair of boxers and her hair was piled on top of her head in a messy bun.
"You're really committed to this whole thing, huh?" Paige said, leaning against the counter and gesturing towards the pan.
Azzi glanced over her shoulder and smiled. "I told you I'd make breakfast."
"I thought you meant like, toast."
"I'm not a heathen, Paige." Azzi slid a pancake onto a plate and handed it to her. "Eat. You need your energy."
Paige took a bite and nearly moaned. "Holy shit, these are good."
"I know." Azzi made herself a plate and sat down next to Paige at the counter. "My mom taught me. She makes the best pancakes." She would never tell Paige that cottage cheese was the secret ingredient.
They ate in comfortable silence for a few minutes, and Paige kept stealing glances at Azzi. At the way the morning light caught in her eyes, at the small smile on her face, at her dimples and her, well, everything.
"What?" Azzi asked, catching her staring.
"Nothing." Paige shook her head. "This is just– nice."
"Yeah," Azzi said softly. "It is."
Paige finished her pancakes and rinsed her plate, then grabbed her keys and her bag. "I'll text you when I'm on my way back, okay?"
"Okay." Azzi walked her to the door, and Paige kissed her one more time, savoring the way she tasted like syrup and something uniquely Azzi.
"See you later, Az," Paige said.
"Bye, P. Break a leg!" Azzi said, before Paige shot her a puzzled look. “Wait, fuck, sorry. Definitely not supposed to say that to an athlete,” she blushed.
Paige couldn't stop thinking about Azzi the entire practice, about the surprise she had planned for later, about the way Azzi had looked in her kitchen that morning (and in her bed last night).
"You're smiling a lot," Arike said as they walked to the locker room. "That's sus."
"I'm not smiling."
"You look like you plottin’ something, P," Arike grinned mischievously.
"Maybe," Paige smirked.
"Planning a date?"
"Mhm. I'm taking her to hoop," Paige said, and Arike's eyes widened.
"You're taking a cheerleader to play basketball?"
"She played in high school," Paige said defensively. "She's prolly good."
"Uh huh." Arike looked skeptical. "And you're not worried she's gonna get hurt or something?"
"No. Why would I be worried about that?"
"Because you're obsessed with her and you'd probably lose your mind if she got a paper cut."
Paige flipped her off, and Arike laughed.
"I'm just saying," Arike said. "You're in deep, Bueckers. Like, really deep."
"I know," Paige said quietly.
She showered and changed quickly, then texted Azzi.
Paige: omw. be ready in 20
Azzi: ready for what???
Paige: you'll see
Paige: wear something you can move in
Azzi: paige....
Paige: that's all imma say
When Paige pulled up to Azzi's apartment, Azzi was waiting outside, wearing black leggings and an oversized purple and gold LSU hoodie. Only Azzi could look that good in purple and yellow, she thought.
"Hey," Azzi said, sliding into the passenger seat. She leaned over and kissed Paige, and Paige immediately forgot about the hoodie. "So are you gonna tell me where we're going now?"
"Nope." Paige pulled out of the parking lot, heading toward the practice facility. "But we're almost there."
Azzi looked around, frowning. "Paige, this is the way to—wait. Are we going to your facility?"
"Maybe."
"Did you forget something?" Azzi asked.
"Nope," Paige said assuredly.
"Paige." Azzi turned to look at her, her eyes wide. "What are we doing?"
"You'll see."
When they pulled into the parking lot, Azzi was staring at her like she'd lost her mind. "Seriously. What are we doing here?"
"We're playing basketball," Paige said, grinning. "One-on-one. You and me."
Azzi blinked. "You're joking."
"I'm not joking." Paige got out of the car and grabbed her bag from the back seat. "Come on. I got us court time."
"Paige, I haven't played in like four years."
"So? You said you were good in high school." Paige walked toward the entrance, and Azzi followed, still looking bewildered. "Let's see what you got."
The facility was mostly empty, just a few staff members and one of the assistant coaches, who waved at Paige as they walked past. Paige led Azzi to the main court, the same one where she practiced every day, and dropped her bag on the sideline.
"Okay," Azzi said, looking around. "This is insane."
"Why?"
"Because you're a professional basketball player, Paige. And I'm a cheerleader."
"You're a cheerleader who played basketball in high school," Paige corrected. She pulled a basketball from her bag and tossed it to Azzi, who caught it easily. "And I want to see if you can really hoop."
Azzi looked down at the ball, then back at Paige. "You're serious."
"Deadass." Paige started stretching, rolling her shoulders. "Unless you're scared."
"I'm not scared," Azzi said, but there was a hint of uncertainty in her voice.
"Then prove it." Paige grinned. "First to eleven. Make it take it."
Azzi stared at her for a long moment, then slowly started to smile. "Okay. Fine. But don't say I didn't warn you."
"Warn me about what?"
"That I'm about to embarrass you in your own house."
Paige laughed. "Big talk for someone wearing an LSU hoodie."
Azzi looked down at herself, then back at Paige. "What's wrong with my hoodie?"
"Personally, I think blue and white is a better look." Paige wrinkled her nose.
"Oh my god." Azzi shook her head, but she was smiling. "You're such a hater."
"I'm not a hater. But it's a good thing we never played you guys. I woulda cooked y'all."
"You would've gotten distracted cause I would've been cheering under the basket," Azzi quipped.
"Oh, it's like that?"
"You know I'm right."
"Aight." Paige shook her head as she took the ball from Azzi. "Let's go. Check."
She passed the ball to Azzi, who passed it back. Paige immediately drove to the basket, but Azzi stayed with her, her footwork surprisingly quick. Paige pulled up for a mid-range jumper, and it swished through the net.
"One-nothing," Paige said, grinning.
Azzi didn't say anything, just took the ball and checked it. This time, when Paige drove, Azzi cut her off, forcing her to the baseline. Paige tried to spin around her, but Azzi stayed in front of her, her hands up, her stance low and balanced.
"Damn," Paige muttered, pulling back. She took a step back, and it rattled out. Azzi got the rebound.
Paige pressed up on her, and Azzi immediately crossed her over. Paige recovered quickly, but Azzi was already at the basket, laying it in with her left hand.
"One-one," Azzi said, and there was a glint in her eye that Paige hadn't seen before.
"Damn," Paige said.
They went back and forth like that for a while, trading baskets. Paige hit a three from the corner. Azzi answered with a pull-up jumper from the elbow. Paige drove to the basket and finished with a reverse layup. Azzi hit a stepback from the wing.
By the time they were at 5-5, Paige was starting to realize something.
Azzi was really fucking good.
Paige drove right, and Azzi cut her off perfectly, forcing her to pick up her dribble. Paige pump-faked, and Azzi didn't bite.
"Good defense," Paige admitted.
"Thanks. Learned from the best."
"Who, me?"
"No, my high school coach." Azzi's smile was teasing. "But you're pretty good too, I guess."
They kept playing, and the trash talk got progressively more ridiculous. Paige made a three and told Azzi she should "stick to dancing." Azzi hit a fadeaway and said, "I would keep embarrassing you, but I actually have things to do later, so can we speed this up?"
Paige laughed so hard she almost dropped the ball. "Absolutely not."
"You're slow," Azzi said after blocking one of Paige's shots.
"I'm not slow. You're just getting lucky."
"Luck has nothing to do with it, baby," Azzi smirked.
As they played, Paige started to notice things. The way Azzi's footwork was impeccable, never traveling or losing her balance. The way she read the defense, knowing exactly when to drive and when to pull up. The fact her shot was so consistent, and her release was faster than anything she’d ever seen. This wasn't someone who was just naturally athletic. This was someone who had trained, who had put in hours and hours of work.
At 8-7, Paige's favor, she called for a timeout.
"Okay, I'm going to ask you something, and I want you to be honest with me," Paige said, hands on her hips.
"What?" Azzi was breathing hard, her cheeks flushed.
"Did you downplay your basketball skills at content day?"
Azzi's expression shifted. "What? No."
"Az."
"Okay, fine." Azzi sighed, but she was smiling. "Maybe a little. But in my defense, you were really hot, and I wanted you to teach me, and I thought if you knew I could actually play, you wouldn't want to get all up close and personal to show me proper shooting form."
Paige felt her stomach flip. "You did that on purpose?"
"I mean, it worked, didn't it?" Azzi said, stepping closer. "You got very close. Very hands-on."
"You're insane," Paige said, but she was grinning. "And also kind of a genius."
"I know." Azzi checked the ball. "Now come on. Let's finish this."
They were both locked in now, the playfulness giving way to genuine competition. Azzi hit a three to tie it at 8-8. Paige answered with a drive to the basket, finishing through contact. 9-8.
Azzi made a smooth jumper. 9-9.
Paige hit a pull-up from the free-throw line. 10-9.
One more basket and she won.
Azzi checked the ball back, and Paige could see the determination on her face. She dribbled to the right, then crossed over hard to her left. Paige stayed with her, playing tight defense. Azzi pulled up from mid-range, and for a moment, Paige thought it was going in.
But it hit the back of the rim and bounced out.
Paige grabbed the rebound and dribbled back out to the three-point line. This was it. Game point.
Azzi was right up on her, not giving her any space. Paige made a quick move to her right, creating just enough separation, and pulled up.
The ball arced through the air, and Paige knew before it went in.
Swish.
"Eleven-nine," Paige said, breathing hard. "I win."
Azzi was breathing just as hard, her hands on her hips. "Barely."
"A win's a win."
"You got lucky."
"I didn't get lucky. I'm just better than you."
Azzi walked over to her, and for a second Paige thought she was going to argue. But instead, she grabbed the front of Paige's shirt and pulled her in for a kiss.
"You're so annoying," Azzi said against her lips.
"You're the one who hustled me."
"And I'd do it again." Azzi kissed her again, deeper this time, and Paige's hands went to her waist, pulling her closer. They were both sweaty and gross, but Paige didn't care. She'd never wanted anyone more than she wanted Azzi right now.
"You're really good," Paige said when they finally pulled apart. "Like, really good. Why didn't you keep playing?"
Azzi shrugged, looking away. "I don't know. I loved it, but... dancing was always my first love. And when I got the shot to dance at LSU, it felt like the right choice."
"Do you ever regret it?"
"Sometimes," Azzi admitted. "But then I remember that if I'd kept playing basketball, I probably wouldn't have ended up in Dallas. And that means I probably wouldn't have met you."
Paige's chest felt tight. "Yeah. I guess that's true."
They stood there for a moment, just looking at each other, and then Azzi smiled. "So what now? You gonna make me run suicides or something?"
"No." Paige laughed.
They spent the next hour just playing, not keeping score, just enjoying the feeling of being together on the court.
They laughed and trash-talked and occasionally got distracted by one another. At one point, Azzi made a shot from half-court, and Paige picked her up and spun her around, both of them laughing.
"You wanna grab some food? I’m starving,” Paige said.
"Me too." Azzi picked up the basketball and tossed it back to Paige. "But for the record, I'm winning next time."
"There's gonna be a next time?"
"Obviously. I need a rematch."
They left the facility and drove to a small Thai place that Paige loved, tucked away in a strip mall that most people didn't know about. It was quiet and low-key, and they got a booth in the back where no one would bother them.
"So," Azzi said, stealing a spring roll from Paige's plate. "You said you have tickets for tomorrow's game?"
"Yeah." Paige had almost forgotten. "Against Phoenix. I got four. I was thinking you could bring some of your friends."
Azzi's face lit up. "Really?"
"Yeah. I mean, if you want."
"Obviously I want to," Azzi said. "I love watching you play. You're incredible."
Paige felt her face heat. "Thanks."
"I'm serious. The way you see the court, the way you move... it's like art."
"Okay, now you're just trying to make me blush."
"Is it working?"
"Maybe."
Azzi grinned and took another spring roll. "I'll ask Kelcey if she wants to come. And Ariel and Darah, I went to school with them. They've been dying to meet you like, more officially."
"They have?"
"Yeah. I might have mentioned you once or twice."
"Only once or twice?"
"Okay, fine. I talk about you all the time. They're sick of it."
Paige laughed. "Same. Arike's probably a second away from killing me."
They finished eating and drove back to Azzi's apartment. Paige walked her to the door, and Azzi turned to face her, her back against the door.
"Thanks for today," Azzi said softly. "That was... really fun."
"Even though I beat you?"
"Even though you barely beat me."
Paige stepped closer, her hands going to Azzi's waist. "I had a really good time."
"Me too." Azzi's arms looped around Paige's neck. "You're full of surprises, Paige Bueckers."
"Yeah?"
"Yeah." Azzi kissed her, slow and sweet, and Paige felt like she could stay here forever, just like this.
Azzi kissed her one more time, then pulled away and opened her door. "Goodnight, P."
"Goodnight, Az. Text me when you get inside?”
“It’s like twenty feet you can literally see me walk upstairs.”
“Humor me,” Paige said.
Moments later, her phone buzzed.
Azzi: safe and sound
Azzi: i can't stop smiling
Paige: good.
Paige: that's how I want you to feel all the time
Azzi: you're really sweet you know that
Paige: only for you
Azzi: i like being the exception.
Paige: you’re just. different.
Paige: see you tomorrow?
Azzi: i'll be the one screaming your name
Paige: jesus, Az
Paige: you can't say stuff like that
Azzi: why not
Paige: cause now I'm thinking about other times you've screamed my name
Paige: and I'm sitting in my car in your parking lot getting turned on
Azzi: want to come back up?
There was a long pause, and Azzi could practically see Paige warring with herself.
Paige: i want to
Paige: so bad
Paige: but i need my legs to be functioning tmr
Paige: and if i come up there I'm not leaving until morning
Azzi: okay
Azzi: rain check?
Paige: definitely
Paige: get some sleep baby
Azzi: you too
Thursday
Paige: good morning beautiful
Paige: bed felt empty this morning
Azzi smiled, as she rubbed her eyes awake.
Azzi: good morning, superstar
Azzi: my pillows are way less comfortable than you
Azzi: did you at least get some rest before tn?
Paige: mhm
Paige: although i think beating you yesterday will be sweeter than kicking phoenix’s ass later
Azzi: you're never gonna let that go are you
Paige: nope
Azzi: rematch soon?
Paige: anytime you want
Paige: but I'm still going to win
Azzi: shut up
She had rehearsal this morning, but then she'd have the afternoon to get ready for the game. And she needed to text her friends about the tickets.
She opened her group chat with some of the other DCCs, Kelcey, Darah, and Ariel.
Azzi: hey! do you guys want to go to the Wings game tonight? I have tickets
Kelcey: YES
Darah: absolutely
Ariel: for sure girl
Kelcey: wait, are these tickets from a certain point guard Judy set you up with?
Azzi: maybe
Kelcey: god I love this for you
Ariel: match made in heaven
Darah: azzi girl all grown up 😩
Azzi: okay I have to get ready for rehearsal but I'll pick you guys up at 6?
Kelcey: no no no i’ll drive us
Kelcey: so you have an excuse to get a ride home from her later
Ariel: SMART KELCE
Darah: and this is why we voted you captain
Azzi: omfg
Unfortunately the morning Paige-focused adrenaline wore off as she got herself out of bed. She’d gotten her period. Fucking fantastic timing, right before a huge rehearsal week. Her lower back ached, and she felt bloated and uncomfortable in her own skin.
But she dragged herself out of bed anyway, because that's what you did when you were a DCC. You showed up, you performed with a wide smile on your face, and you sure as shit didn't complain.
She pulled on her black leggings and navy and silver sports bra under a fitted tank top and stared at herself in the mirror. Her stomach looked rounder than usual, or maybe she was just being paranoid. She turned to the side, sucking in slightly, then let out a frustrated breath.
Stop it, she told herself. You're fine.
But she didn't feel fine.
She grabbed her dance bag and headed to the studio, stopping for coffee on the way. By the time she arrived, most of the other girls were already there, stretching and chatting. The energy was different today. Everyone seemed to be a little more tense and more anxious than usual.
They were preparing for the Thanksgiving halftime show, even though it was still two months away. It’s always the most famous, most watched performance of the entire season. And this year, the halftime performer was Beyoncé.
Aka Queen Bey, Sasha Fierce, mother of all mothers god damn Beyoncé,
It was a massive deal. The kind of opportunity that could make or break careers. And Kelli and Judy were feeling the pressure.
"Alright, ladies, let's get started," Kelli called out, clapping her hands. Her smile was tight, strained. "We have a lot of work to do today."
Judy stood next to her, arms crossed, her expression severe. "This performance has to be perfect. Not good, not great. Perfect. Y’all understand?"
"Yes, ma'am," they all chorused.
"We're going to run through the opening number," Kelli continued. "And I want to see energy. Your kicks have to be high and in sync. No half-assing it today."
They got into formation, and the music started. Azzi knew this routine inside and out, they'd been practicing it for weeks. But today, something felt off. Her body felt sluggish, her movements not as sharp as they usually were. She could feel the cramps starting in her lower abdomen.
"Azzi, you're behind," Judy called out, stopping the music. "Let's go again."
They started over, and Azzi tried to push through. But she could feel Judy's eyes on her, watching, judging. When they finished, Judy walked over to her.
"What's going on with you today?" Judy asked, her tone sharp.
"Nothing, I'm fine ma’am," Azzi said quickly.
"You don't look fine. You look tired. And your timing is off."
"Yes ma’am. I'll do better."
"You need to do better," Judy said. "This is the Thanksgiving halftime show, Azzi. We can't afford mistakes."
Azzi nodded, her throat tight. “Yes ma’am."
They ran through the routine again, and this time Azzi pushed herself harder, ignoring the cramping, ignoring the exhaustion. But it still wasn't enough.
"Let's take five," Kelli announced, and everyone scattered to grab water and catch their breath.
Azzi sat down against the wall, her head in her hands. She felt like she was failing, like she wasn't good enough.
"You okay?" Kelcey asked, sitting down next to her.
"Yeah, just tired."
"Judy's being extra today."
"She's stressed. We all are."
"Still." Kelcey bumped her shoulder. "Don't let her get in your head."
But it was too late. Judy's words were already echoing in Azzi's mind, mixing with her own insecurities. You look tired. Your timing is off. We can't afford mistakes.
They got back to work, and Kelli called Azzi up to the front.
"Azzi, I need you to try on your show uniform," Kelli said. "You, Reece, and Abby missed the fitting slot for the Children’s Hospital visit, so I want to make sure everything still fits properly."
Azzi's stomach dropped. They'd fitted everyone for their uniforms during rookie year training camp, but the DCC policy was that once you were fitted, they kept the same measurements for every uniform. As long as you stayed on the team, your size didn't change.
But what if it had changed? What if she'd gained weight and didn't fit anymore?
She followed Kelli to the dressing room, where her uniform was hanging on a rack. The iconic blue and white, the stars, the fringe. How could a uniform be so fucking beautiful and yet so terrifying.
"Go ahead and put it on," Kelli said. "I'll be right outside."
Azzi changed quickly, her hands shaking slightly. The uniform fit, technically. But it felt tighter than she remembered. The top dug into her ribs slightly, and the shorts felt snug around her hips. Or maybe that was just the bloating. Maybe it was all in her head.
She stepped out, and Kelli looked her over with a critical eye.
"Turn around," Kelli said.
Azzi turned slowly, feeling exposed and vulnerable.
"Hmm," Kelli said, and that one sound made Azzi's anxiety spike. "It fits, but it's snug. Have you gained weight?"
"I–I don't think so," Azzi stammered. "I'm just on my period, so I'm a little bloated."
"Well, you need to watch it," Kelli said. "We can't have the uniforms looking too tight on camera. Especially not for the Thanksgiving show."
Azzi felt like she'd been slapped. "Yes, ma'am."
"Go change. We need to keep rehearsing."
Azzi went back to the dressing room and changed out of the uniform with shaking hands. She stared at herself in the mirror, and all she could see were flaws. Her stomach, her thighs, her hips. Everything felt wrong.
She wanted to cry, but she didn't have time. She had to get back out there and keep going.
The rest of rehearsal was a blur. Azzi went through the motions, hitting her marks, executing the choreography. But inside, she was spiraling. Every comment from Kelli and Judy felt like a personal attack. Every glance from the other girls felt like judgment, even though they were her closest friends.
By the time rehearsal ended at noon, Azzi was physically and emotionally exhausted. She grabbed her bag and headed to her car, desperate to be alone.
But then she remembered. The game. She was supposed to go to the Wings game tonight with Kelcey, Darah, and Ariel. She was supposed to watch Paige play.
She pulled out her phone and saw a missed text from Paige.
Paige: good luck at rehearsal today baby
Paige: can't wait to see you tn
Azzi stared at the message, her eyes burning with unshed tears. She wanted to see Paige. She did. But she also felt like a mess, like she was barely holding it together. And she didn't want Paige to see her like this.
But she'd already committed. And her friends were counting on her.
She took a deep breath and typed out a response.
Azzi: just got out. rehearsal was good
It was a lie. Rehearsal had been anything but good. But she didn't want to burden Paige with her problems, especially not when Paige had a game to focus on.
Azzi: see you tonight 🩷
Azzi went home and tried to rest, but her mind wouldn't stop replaying Kelli's words and Judy's criticisms and the way the uniform had felt too tight. She knew she was being irrational, that her period was making everything feel worse. But she couldn't shake the feeling that she wasn't good enough. That maybe she had gained weight. That she was embarrassing Judy and Kelly and Charlotte Jones and the biggest sports franchise in the world.
At 5:30, she forced herself to get ready. She showered, did her makeup, and put on jeans and a cute top. I look fine, she thought. No one would be able to tell that she was falling apart inside.
Kelcey picked her up at 6:30 with Darah and Ariel already squeezed in the backseat. The girls were excitedly talking about the game. Azzi tried to match their energy, but it felt forced.
"You okay, Az?" Darah asked at one point, glancing over at her.
"Yeah, just tired from rehearsal."
"Kelli and Judy drank their bitch juice this morning,” Ariel said.
"Yeah."
They arrived at the arena and made their way to their seats. Paige had gotten them great tickets, lower level, close to the court. Azzi could see everything from here.
The game started, and Azzi tried to focus on Paige. And it was easy to do, because Paige was amazing. She moved with such confidence on the floor. Every shot she took seemed effortless, every pass perfectly placed. She was in complete control, and it was incredible to watch.
At one point, Paige made a steal and took it coast-to-coast for a layup. The crowd erupted, and Azzi found herself on her feet, cheering. For a moment, she forgot about everything else. Forgot about rehearsal, about the uniform, about all of her insecurities. All she could see was Paige.
But then halftime came, and the moment passed. Azzi sat back down, and the weight of the day came crashing back. She wanted to go home, curl up in bed, and sleep for a week.
"I'm fine," Azzi said, forcing a smile. "Just tired."
The second half started, and Azzi tried to focus again. The Wings were up by six, and Paige had already scored twenty points with over a quarter still to go.
But Azzi couldn't shake the feeling that she was barely holding it together. Every time she thought about rehearsal, about Kelli's comments, she felt like crying. And she didn't want to cry here, not in front of everyone. Especially not in front of Paige.
The game ended with the Wings winning by eight. Paige finished with twenty-six points, and the crowd gave her a standing ovation as she walked off the court. Azzi stood and clapped, genuinely proud of her. But inside, she just felt empty.
"That was amazing," Darah said as they made their way down to the tunnel. "Paige is so good."
"Yeah, she is," Azzi agreed.
They waited by the tunnel for the players to come out. Azzi's heart was pounding, and she wasn't sure if it was from excitement or anxiety. Maybe both.
Paige emerged a few minutes later, her hair still damp from the shower, wearing joggers and a Wings hoodie. When she saw Azzi, her face lit up.
"Hey," Paige said, pulling Azzi into a hug. "You came."
"Of course I came," Azzi said, hugging her back. She could smell Paige's dry shampoo and feel the warmth of her skin. For a moment, she felt safe.
"You were amazing out there," Azzi added, pulling back.
"Thanks." Paige's smile was bright, genuine. "I'm glad you were here."
She greeted Kelcey, Darah, and Ariel, thanking them for coming. They chatted for a few minutes, and then the girls said their goodbyes, heading to the parking lot.
"You want to grab food or something?" Paige asked, turning back to Azzi.
"Actually, I'm pretty tired," Azzi said. "I think I just want to go home."
Paige's expression shifted, concern showing across her face. "You sure? We don't have to stay out late. We could just–"
"I'm sure," Azzi interrupted. "I just... it's been a long day."
"Okay." Paige studied her for a moment, and Azzi could tell she didn't believe her. But Paige didn't push. "Let me drive you home?"
"You don't have to."
"I want to."
They walked to Paige's car in silence, and Azzi leaned her head against the window as they drove through the Dallas streets. She could feel Paige glancing over at her every few minutes, but she didn't say anything.
When they pulled up to her building, Paige turned to her. "Azzi, talk to me. What's going on?"
"Nothing. I'm just tired."
"It's not nothing." Paige's voice was gentle but firm. "I can tell something's wrong. Did something happen at rehearsal?"
Azzi felt her composure crack, just a little. "It was just... a lot. Kelli and Judy are stressed about the Beyoncé performance, and they were kind of taking it out on us today. On me."
"What did they say?"
"Just... that I wasn't good enough. That I was dragging the team down." Azzi's voice broke on the last word, and she felt a tear slip down her cheek.
"Hey, hey." Paige reached over and cupped her face, wiping away the tear with her thumb. "That's not true. You're incredible."
"You don't understand, P. DCC is so much pressure.”
"I've seen you dance. I've seen the way you move, the way you command a room. You're so fucking talented, Azzi. Don't let anyone make you feel like you're not,” Paige said.
Azzi wanted to believe her, but the voice in her head was louder, more insistent. "It's not just that," she said quietly. "It's... my body. My uniform felt wrong today. Too tight. And I like... I just don't feel good about myself right now."
Paige was quiet for a moment, and then she said, "Can I come up? I don't want to leave you like this."
Azzi nodded, not trusting her voice, and they made their way up to her apartment. Once inside, Azzi dropped her bag and sank onto the couch, feeling the weight of the day crash down on her.
Paige sat next to her, close but not touching, giving her space. "Talk to me," she said softly. "Please."
And so Azzi did. She told her about the rehearsal, about Judy's comments, about how her uniform had felt wrong, about how she'd looked in the mirror and hated what she saw. She told her about the pressure, the constant scrutiny, the way her body was always being judged, always being found lacking.
By the time she finished, she was crying, really crying, the kind of tears that came from somewhere deep and raw. And Paige was crying too, tears streaming down her face as she listened.
"I'm so sorry," Paige said, her voice thick with emotion. "I'm so sorry you're going through this."
"It's stupid," Azzi said, wiping her eyes. "I shouldn't let it get to me."
"It's not stupid." Paige moved closer, pulling Azzi into her arms. "Your feelings are valid. And those comments were out of line. You're not dragging anyone down. You're one of the best dancers on that team, and if they can't see that, that's their problem."
"But what if they're right? What if I'm not good enough?"
"You are good enough." Paige pulled back just enough to look at her, her hands cupping Azzi's face. "You're more than good enough. You're incredible. You're talented and beautiful and strong, and I hate that anyone has made you feel otherwise."
"I don't feel beautiful right now."
"Well, you are." Paige's voice was fierce, almost angry. "You're the most beautiful person I've ever seen. And I'm not just talking about the way you look, although you're stunning, and anyone with eyes can see that. I'm talking about who you are. The way you light up when you talk about something you love. The way you care about people. The way you work so hard at everything you do. That's beautiful, Azzi. You're beautiful."
Azzi felt fresh tears spill over, but these were different. These were tears of relief, of gratitude, of feeling seen and understood in a way she hadn't in a long time.
"I don't know what I did to deserve you," she whispered.
"You don't have to deserve me. You just have to be you." Paige kissed her forehead, her cheeks, the tip of her nose. "And I'm not going anywhere, okay? I'm here. Whatever you need."
Azzi kissed her then, desperate and needy, and Paige kissed her back with equal intensity. Azzi's hands were in Paige's hair, pulling her closer, and she felt Paige's hands on her waist, her back, holding her like she was something precious.
"I want you," Azzi breathed against Paige's lips. "Please."
Paige pulled back, her eyes dark but hesitant. "Azzi..."
"Please," Azzi said again, her hands already working at the buttons of Paige's shirt. "I need you. I need to feel close to you."
"Baby, I want to. You know I do. But..." Paige caught her hands, stilling them. "You're upset. You're vulnerable right now. I don't want to take advantage of that."
"You're not taking advantage. I'm asking you."
"I know. But..." Paige took a breath. "You're also on your period, right?"
Azzi felt her face heat. "Yeah. But that doesn't mean we can't–"
"I know it doesn't. But I think... I think maybe we should wait. Until you're feeling better. Until you're in a better headspace." Paige's voice was gentle, her eyes full of care. "I want to be with you, Azzi. So much. But I want it to be right. I want you to feel good about it, not like you're using it to escape from how you're feeling."
Azzi felt tears prick at her eyes again, but this time they were tears of frustration. "I'm not trying to escape. I just... I want to feel close to you."
"We can be close without having sex." Paige pulled her back into her arms, holding her tight. "Let me just hold you, okay? Let me be here for you."
Azzi wanted to argue, wanted to push, but she was so tired. So emotionally exhausted. And Paige's arms felt safe, felt like home, and maybe that was enough for now.
"Okay," she whispered, letting herself relax into Paige's embrace.
They moved to the bedroom, changing into comfortable clothes, and climbed into bed. Paige pulled Azzi close, and Azzi rested her head on Paige's chest, listening to the steady beat of her heart.
"Thank you," Azzi said softly. "For being here. For understanding."
"Always," Paige murmured, pressing a kiss to the top of her head. "I'm always here for you."
They lay there in the dark, and Paige talked—about her own struggles with body image, about the pressure she'd felt coming into the league, about the times she'd felt like she wasn't good enough. She talked about her family, about her friends, about the things that kept her grounded when everything felt like too much.
And Azzi listened, feeling the tightness in her chest slowly ease. This was what she needed. Not sex, not distraction, but this. Genuine care and connection and understanding. Someone who saw her, really saw her, and stayed anyway.
"You're going to be amazing at that Beyoncé performance," Paige said eventually. "I know you are. And I'm going to be there, watching, cheering you on."
"You don't have to."
"I want to see you shine." Paige's arms tightened around her. "Because you do shine, Azzi. Even when you can't see it yourself."
Azzi felt tears slip down her cheeks again, but these were good tears. Healing tears. "I really like you," she whispered. "Like, a lot."
"I really like you too," Paige said, and Azzi could hear the smile in her voice. "Like, a lot a lot."
"Will you be here when I wake up?" Azzi asked.
"I have practice in the morning, but I'll stay as long as I can. I promise."
"Okay." Azzi closed her eyes, feeling herself start to drift off.
Paige's arms tightened around her. “Thank you for coming tonight, especially after such a hard day.”
“Wanted to show up for you,” Azzi whispered.
"I’ve never had a cheerleader as good as you, babe,” Paige kissed the top of Azzi’s forehead and they drifted off to sleep.
_____________________
Friday
Azzi woke up to the smell of coffee and the sound of someone moving around in her kitchen.
For a moment, she was disoriented, unsure of where she was or what was happening. Then she remembered that Paige had stayed over.
She sat up slowly, her body still aching from her period, and padded out to the kitchen. Paige was standing at the stove, wearing the same clothes from last night, her hair pulled back in a messy bun. She was making scrambled eggs (with cottage cheese!!!, Azzi noticed).
"Hey," Azzi said softly.
Paige turned, her face breaking into a smile. "Hey. You're awake."
"What are you doing?"
"Making you breakfast." Paige gestured to the stove. "I figured you could use something to eat."
Azzi felt her chest tighten with emotion. "You didn't have to do that."
"I wanted to." Paige plated the eggs and brought them over to the small dining table. "Come on, sit. Eat."
Azzi sat down, and Paige sat across from her. They ate in comfortable silence for a few minutes, and Azzi felt herself starting to feel more human.
"How are you feeling?" Paige asked eventually.
"Better," Azzi said honestly. "Still tired, but better."
"Good." Paige reached across the table and took her hand. "I'm sorry about yesterday."
"It's not your fault."
"I know. But I still hate that you had to go through that."
"It's part of the job," Azzi said with a shrug. "I knew what I was signing up for."
"That doesn't make it okay."
Azzi squeezed her hand. "I know. But having you here... it helps. A lot."
Paige smiled, and they finished breakfast together. When they were done, Paige glanced at the clock and sighed.
"I have to go," she said reluctantly. "Practice starts in an hour."
"Okay."
Paige stood up and pulled Azzi into a hug. "Text me later? Let me know how you're doing?"
"I will."
"And if you need anything, literally at all, you call me. Okay?"
"Okay."
Paige kissed her softly, and then she was gone, leaving Azzi alone in her apartment.
Azzi cleaned up the breakfast dishes and then collapsed back on the couch, grabbing her phone. She had a bunch of messages in her old LSU group chat with Flau'jae and Angel.
Flau'jae: GIRL. How was the game last night?
Angel: Flau said Paige got you tix???? Ummmm hello need a life update
Azzi smiled and typed out a response.
Azzi: the game was great. paige was incredible
Azzi: and she stayed over last night
There was a pause, and then her phone started blowing up.
Flau'jae: WHAT
Angel: AZZI FUDD
Flau'jae: I KNEW PB HAD RIZZ BUT DAMN STILL CAN’T BELIEVE SHE PULLED YOU
Azzi: it wasn't like that. Not this time at least lmao. Had a rough day and she took care of me
Angel: she really likes you huh
Azzi: i think so
Azzi: i really like her too
Angel: i like her for you
Flau'jae: can’t believe my worlds colliding like this
Flau'jae: idk why we didn’t set this up sooner
Angel: WAIT
Azzi: what??
Flau'jae: we play the Wings next Saturday
Angel: i think it’s their last home game??
Angel: so lets go out after
Azzi: wait fr??
Flau'jae: We wanna see you with her
Angel: Like actually see it
Angel: Not just wave across the court or dap her up pregame
Azzi: oh my god
Flau'jae: Soooo we’re going OUT
Flau'jae: Like dinner, drinks, maybe a club
Angel: Very much OUT out running our Baton Rouge crew back 😈
Angel: Paige should come
Azzi’s face felt warm.
Azzi: i’m scared
Angel: relax babe
Angel: we already like her
Angel: we just wanna see how she looks at you
That did something to her.
Azzi: okay
Azzi: yeah
Azzi: i want that too
Flau’jae: we miss you
Flau’jae: no offense but the sky dancers are WEAK compared to my tiger girls
Azzi: I miss you guys so much
Angel: MISS YOU GIRL!!! But we’ll see you soon
Flau’jae: Text P and tell her we’re pulling up
Angel: And that we’ll be nice off the court
Azzi: i’ll tell her 🫡
Azzi laughed and set her phone down. She felt lighter than she had yesterday, more hopeful. Having Paige in her life was changing things, making everything feel more manageable.
She spent the rest of the day resting and catching up on chores. That night, she texted Paige.
Azzi: hey
Paige: hi
Paige: you okay?
Azzi: yeah
Azzi: just wanted to run something by you
Paige: okay…?
Azzi: so Angel and Flau’jae are coming to town next saturday for the game
Paige: right…
Azzi: um
Azzi: they want to go out after
Paige’s thumb paused for half a second.
Paige: out how
Azzi: like
Azzi: actually out
Azzi: drinks… maybe a club
Paige: sounds fun
Azzi blinked at the lack of hesitation.
Azzi: you’re not scared?
Paige: of them?
Paige: no
Paige: i already know them, remember?
Azzi: they want to see us
Azzi: like together
Paige: i figured
Paige: and i want that too!
Paige: showing u off is fun
Azzi: they’re gonna grill you
Paige: i don’t give a shit
Paige: wherever you wanna go
Paige: i’ll be there
_________________________
Next Saturday came faster than Azzi expected.
Both the Wings and the Sky were out of playoff contention, but Azzi was really looking forward to being back with two of her closest college friends. The timing seemed kind of divine after everything that had happened the last week.
Paige went through her usual pregame routine of stretching, shooting, and listening to Gospel music to get her mind right.
Azzi arrived at the arena with twenty minutes to spare, slipping quietly into her seat near midcourt. She’d changed outfits three times before giving up and calling Kelcey and Jada, who styled her in gray and white pleated pants and a white cropped tank. She was still second-guessing herself as she sat down. Was it too much? Not enough? Did she look ridiculous?
She forced herself to stop spiraling and looked down at the court.
And then she saw Paige.
She was in the middle of her shooting routine, movements smooth and automatic, like her body already knew what it needed to do. She looked calm and confident and completely at home. Watching her, Azzi felt a rush of pride that kind of caught her off guard.
That’s my girl.
As if she could feel it, Paige glanced up into the stands. Her eyes scanned for half a second before locking onto Azzi’s.
Paige smiled.
Not the polite, crowd-facing smile she gave fans. This one was softer, meant just for her.
Azzi’s breath caught. She lifted a hand in a small wave, and Paige mirrored it before turning back to the ball rack like nothing had happened.
Azzi sat there, heart pounding, feeling like the only person in the arena who mattered. Nobody looked at her like Paige looked at her.
She scanned the Sky’s side of the court to look for her LSU girls. They were easy to spot.
Azzi pulled her phone out as the Sky and Wings players started to retreat to the locker rooms before player intros.
Azzi: I SEE YOU
A moment later, both Angel and Flau'jae looked up into the stands, scanning the crowd. When they spotted her, their faces lit up, and they both waved enthusiastically. Azzi waved back, grinning so hard her face hurt.
Angel: BITCH YOU LOOK SO GOOD
Flau'jae: We're gonna hug the shit out of you after this game
Azzi: I'm ready
Azzi: Now go warm up
Azzi: And try not to destroy my girl too bad
Angel: I ain’t promising shit.
The game tipped off, and Azzi tried to play Switzerland and support her LSU Girls and Paige, but her eyes couldn’t look away from the blonde. She was everywhere. The Sky were scrappy and physical as always, but Paige looked like the best player on the floor.
Midway through the first quarter, Paige drove hard to the basket and finished through contact, earning an and-1. As she jogged to the free-throw line, she glanced up again.
Azzi.
Just for a split second.
Azzi’s chest tightened as Paige smirked before knocking down the free throw.
The first half stayed close. Angel dominated the boards while Flau’jae hit tough shots and played with that familiar swag Azzi remembered from LSU. Watching them now was surreal. Two of her best friends on one side and the girl that was (respectfully) ruining her life on the other.
Paige answered Angel’s inside presence with her signature pull-up jumpers from the mid-range. Late in the second quarter, she buried a deep three off a screen that made the crowd roar. Paige backpedaled with a sly grin, and Azzi shook her head, smiling to herself.
God, Paige Bueckers is so fucking hot.
By halftime, the Wings were up three, and Azzi realized her leg had been bouncing nonstop. She tried to force herself to breathe and relax to no avail.
The Sky came out of the break aggressively. Angel scored six quick points, muscling her way to the rim. Paige responded immediately with a jumper, a steal, then another three. She was fully in her bag.
Midway through the third quarter, as Paige was bringing the ball up the floor, she looked up straight at Azzi.
It was just for a fraction of a second, but it was enough.
Hailey Van Lith poked the ball loose and took off the other way for an easy layup.
Paige’s jaw tightened as she turned to sprint back on defense, frustration flashing across her face.
Azzi pressed her lips together, guilt and something else settling in her stomach. She hadn’t done anything, she’d just been watching.
Apparently, that was enough.
The rest of the third quarter was a grind. Neither team could pull away, and by the time the fourth started, the game was tied.
The 4th quarter was Paige’s moment.
She had taken over, and the Wings soon built an eight-point lead.
But the Sky refused to fold. Angel hit a fadeaway on the baseline. Flau’jae buried a three. Suddenly it was a three-point game with two minutes left, and Azzi felt like her heart might beat out of her chest.
Paige slowed the tempo down, called for a screen, and pulled up from the elbow, swish.
The Wings’ got a stop on the next possession and pushed transition the other way. Paige attacked the rim and finished through contact, another and-one.
She flexed as the crowd exploded, raw emotion spilling out of her.
When the final buzzer sounded, the Wings had won by ten. Paige finished with thirty-two points, seven assists, and five rebounds. She smiled as she hugged teammates/
Then she looked up to find Azzi, who stood and clapped with a massive smile on her face.
After the game, Azzi met up with Angel and Flau'jae outside of the away locker room.
“MY GIRLS!” Azzi said, hugging them both.
"P is so fuckin’ good," Flau'jae admitted.
"I know."
"She better treat you right," Angel said, her tone protective.
"She does. I promise."
“We’re not used to seeing you at games where you’re not cheering for us,” Flau’jae laughed.
“Trust me when you and A ran that pick-and-roll in the 3rd my muscle memory kicked in,” Azzi giggled.
A few minutes later, the Wings started filing out of their locker room. Arike came out first, saw Azzi, and beamed.
"There she is," Arike said. "Paigey's good luck charm."
Azzi felt her cheeks heat. "I don't know about that."
"Girl, she dropped a 30-piece. You definitely good luck."
Paige emerged from the locker room a few minutes later, freshly showered and wearing white pants and a crochet jersey top. When she saw Azzi, her face lit up.
"Hey," Paige said, pulling Azzi into a hug.
Azzi kissed her cheek. "You were amazing."
“Had to ball out with a courtside baddie in attendance.” Paige’s smile was soft, almost bashful.
They lingered there for a moment, neither of them in any hurry to step back. Azzi was aware of the people around them, but it all faded a little when Paige was this close.
“You look really good,” Paige said, her voice low, just for Azzi. Her eyes traced Azzi’s outfit from the top down.
“Thanks,” Azzi said, her voice betraying her just a little. “You too.”
Paige laughed softly. “Just tryna look good next to you.”
“You always do,” Azzi said, blushing.
Before Azzi could overthink the awkward introductions, Angel stepped in with an easy grin.
“PB!,” she said, holding out a hand. “Long time.”
Paige’s face lit up as she dapped her up. “It’s been a minute, Ang. You were a menace tonight.”
Angel laughed.
Flau’jae slid in beside her. “Good to see you again, bruh. You were cookin’ out there.”
“Appreciate it,” Paige said, grinning. “Y’all made us work for it.”
Azzi watched the exchange with a small smile.
They talked for a few minutes, Angel teased Paige about the fact Azzi would’ve whooped her ass in their AAU days, Flau’jae filled her in about the new album, Azzi blushed as the girls told Paige about the famous Magic Mike Halloween party. Paige held her own, like she always did around people.
“So,” Angel said eventually, eyes flicking between the two of them, amused. “We going out?”
Paige laughed. “I’m down to celebrate. You?”
She looked at Azzi when she said it.
“Yeah,” Azzi said, trying to sound calm despite the way her heart kicked up. “I’m in.”
“Cool,” Paige said. “Let me grab my stuff and I’ll meet you guys.”
Paige ducked back into the locker room, and the second she was gone, Angel and Flau’jae turned to Azzi in unison.
"Oh my God," Flau'jae said. "You got P down bad, Az"
"Paige and Azzi sittin’ in a tree–" Angel laughed.
"Can you guys not?" Azzi said, but she was smiling.
"Let us have this, girl," Angel said. "This is the most exciting thing that's happened to us all season."
"Your season isn't even over yet."
"Yeah well don’t tell nobody this but this is 100% the highlight," Flau’jae wrapped her arms around Azzi.
Azzi rolled her eyes, but she couldn't stop smiling. Because they were right. Paige was arguably down bad for her. And she was definitely completely enthralled with Paige.
The club was packed by the time they arrived. Music pulsed loud enough to make everyone’s ears ring, strobe lights flashed in neon colors, sweaty bodies moved across the dance floor shoulder to shoulder.
Paige had reserved a table for the group in the VIP section, unbeknownst to Azzi. When the security guard unlatched the velvet rope and Azzi glanced at Paige with wide eyes, Paige just shrugged and smiled.
"Dayum PB, this place is fire," Flau'jae said, looking around.
"Everything's bigger in Texas," Paige said with a grin.
Azzi felt herself loosening up as the alcohol hit her system.
They talked and laughed and drank, and Azzi found herself pressed close to Paige in the booth, their thighs touching, Paige's arm draped casually over the back of the seat behind her. It felt completely natural, like they'd been doing this for years instead of weeks.
After a while, Angel stood up. "Okay, I need to dance. Who's coming?"
"I'm in," Flau'jae said immediately.
Azzi glanced at Paige, who was already looking at her with a small smile.
"You wanna dance?" Paige asked.
"Don’t threaten me with a good time," Azzi said.
“You’re the pro, baby. This your element now,” Paige smirked.
They made their way to the dance floor, bodies parting as the girls wove towards the center. The DJ was playing some club remix of Rihanna’s “Only Girl (In The World)”.
Azzi turned to face Paige, and the look in Paige's eyes made her breath catch. There was something different about her tonight, but she couldn’t quite put her finger on it..
They started moving together, and Azzi felt the heat building between them with every thump of the bass. Paige's hands found her hips, pulling her closer, and Azzi let herself sink into it. She turned around, pressing her back against Paige's front, and felt Paige's sharp intake of breath against her ear.
"You're killing me," Paige murmured, her voice low and rough.
Azzi smiled and pressed back harder, her hips moving in time with the music. Paige's hands tightened on her waist, and Azzi felt a lightning run through her. As the chorus approached, Paige laced her fingers into Azzi’s and spun the brunette back towards her.
Angel, Flau’Jae, Paige, and Azzi all screamed the words in unison, but Azzi and Paige’s eyes remained locked on just each other. Paige did make Azzi feel like the only girl in the world. And Azzi made Paige feel the same.
Rihanna’s voice transitioned into Usher’s, and Angel and Flau’jae started giggling as they realized it was “Love in This Club.” Azzi shook her head as she got teased by her college friends, but damn, she was having fun. She was grateful that fellow Tiger Girls Ariel and Darah were DCCs with her, but she didn’t realize how much she missed Angel and Flau’jae.
Paige’s hands never left Azzi’s hips. Their faces were close now, close enough that Azzi could see how Paige's pupils dilated even through the smoke and lights.
"Having fun?" Azzi asked, her lips brushing Paige's ear.
"Always do when I’m with you," Paige said, and her hands slid lower, resting just above the curve of Azzi's ass.
They danced through another song, and then another, and Azzi lost track of time. All she knew was the feel of Paige's body against hers, the heat building between them, the way Paige was looking at her like she wanted to devour her right there on the dance floor.
Eventually, they made their way back to the table, both of them flushed and breathless. Angel and Flau'jae were already back there, grinning like idiots.
"Y'all looked like you were about to fuck on the dance floor," Angel said bluntly.
"Angel!" Azzi said, mortified.
"What? You ain’t slick girl.."
Paige laughed, not even trying to deny it. "Can you blame me? Look at her."
Azzi felt her cheeks heat, but she couldn't help the smile that spread across her face.
They ordered another round of drinks, and Azzi excused herself to go to the bathroom. She needed a minute to cool down, to collect herself, because the way Paige had been looking at her all night was making it very hard to think straight.
The bathroom was blessedly empty, and Azzi stood at the sink, staring at her reflection. Her cheeks were flushed, her eyes bright, her lipstick slightly smudged. She looked like someone who was having the time of her life.
She was fixing her lipstick when the door opened and another girl walked in. She smiled at Azzi, and Azzi smiled back, then turned her attention back to the mirror.
When she finally made her way back to the table, she found Paige exactly where she'd left her, laughing at something Flau’jae was saying, her whole face lit up. God, she was beautiful.
But before Azzi could make it back to the booth, someone stepped into her path.
"Hey," the guy said, smiling. He was tall, good-looking in a very generic sort of way, and clearly drunk. "I'm Keion. Can I buy you a drink?"
"Oh, um, I'm good," Azzi said politely. "Thanks though."
"Come on," Keion said, stepping closer. "Just one. You're way too pretty to be here alone."
"I'm not alone," Azzi said, trying to step around him.
But Keion moved with her, blocking her path. "Your friends won't mind if I steal you for a few minutes."
Azzi felt a flicker of annoyance. "Actually, I really need to get back–"
"Just one, pretty," Keion said again, and this time his hand landed on her arm.
And that's when Paige appeared.
Azzi didn't even see her coming. One second the guy was touching her arm, and the next Paige was there, stepping between them with a look on her face that Azzi had never seen before. It wasn't quite anger, but it was definitely sharp and possessive.
"She said no, bro," Paige said, her voice calm but with an edge that made Azzi's stomach flip.
Keion blinked, clearly taken aback. "Whoa, I was just–"
"She said no," Paige repeated, and this time there was no mistaking the warning in her tone.
Keion held up his hands. "Alright, alright. My bad dawg." He looked at Azzi. "Didn't realize you had a girlfriend."
He walked away, and Azzi turned to Paige, her heart pounding. Paige was still staring as he walked away. Her jaw was clenched and her hands were clenched into fists at her sides.
"Paige," Azzi said softly.
Paige's eyes snapped to hers, and the intensity in them made Azzi's world spin. The look was raw, almost feral.
"You okay?" Paige asked, her voice rough.
"I'm fine," Azzi said. "He was just being annoying."
"He touched you."
"I know."
"I didn't like that."
"I could tell," Azzi said, and she couldn't help the small smile that tugged at her lips. "You got a little... intense there."
Paige's jaw tightened. "Sorry. I–" She broke off, shaking her head. "I saw him touching you and I just... Couldn't—"
"Hey," Azzi said, stepping closer. She reached up and cupped Paige's face, forcing her to meet her eyes. "It's okay. I'm okay."
Paige's eyes searched hers for a long moment, and then she let out a breath. "I know. I just... I don't like other people touching you."
The possessiveness in her voice sent a thrill through Azzi. "P, nobody touches me the way you do."
They stood there for a moment, the music pounding around them, the crowd pressing close, and Azzi felt the tension build.
"Come with me," Paige said, and it wasn't a question.
She took Azzi's hand and led her through the crowd, past the bar, past the dance floor, toward the back of the club. Azzi's heart was racing, her skin buzzing with anticipation, and she knew exactly where they were going.
The bathroom.
Paige pushed open the door and pulled Azzi inside, checking quickly to make sure they were alone. Then she locked the door and turned to face Azzi, and the look in her eyes made Azzi's knees weak.
"I've been wanting to do this all night," Paige said, her voice low and rough.
And then she kissed her.
It was hungry and desperate, like Paige had been holding back all night and couldn't anymore. Her hands were everywhere, planted on Azzi's waist, her hips, sliding up her back, and Azzi melted into it, her own hands fisting in Paige's top.
Paige backed her up against the wall, and Azzi gasped as her back hit the tile. Paige's mouth moved to her neck, kissing and biting, and Azzi's head fell back, her eyes fluttering closed.
"Paige," she breathed.
"You looked so fucking good tonight," Paige said against her skin. "I could barely focus on the game."
"I noticed," Azzi said, and she could hear the smile in her own voice.
Paige pulled back just enough to look at her, and the heat in her eyes made Azzi's stomach flip. "You noticed?"
"You turned the ball over in the third quarter because you were looking at me."
Paige's jaw tightened. "Cause you’re so damn distracting."
"Good," Azzi said, and then she pulled Paige back in for another kiss.
This time it was even more intense, their tongues meeting one another desperately. Paige's hands slid under Azzi's tank, her fingers tracing the bare skin of her waist, and Azzi arched into the touch. She wanted more. Needed more.
"Paige," she said again, and this time it came out as a whimper.
"Tell me what you want," Paige said, her voice rough.
"I want you," Azzi said without hesitation.
Paige groaned and kissed her again. Azzi felt like she was on fire. Every nerve was tingling, every touch sent sparks through her body.
Paige's hands slid lower, gripping Azzi's hips, and Azzi hooked one leg around Paige's waist, pulling her closer. The friction caused Azzi to let out a soft moan that Paige swallowed with another kiss.
"Fuck," Paige breathed against her lips. "You're so perfect."
"Don't stop," Azzi said, her hands sliding under Paige's shirt, feeling the hard muscle of her abs. "Please don't stop."
"I'm not stopping," Paige said, and there was a promise in her voice that made Azzi shiver.
Paige's mouth moved back to Azzi's neck and Azzi's hands tangled in her hair. She was so lost in the sensation that she barely registered the sound of someone trying the door handle.
"Occupied!" Paige called out, not even breaking stride.
Azzi laughed breathlessly, and Paige pulled back to look at her, a grin on her face.
"You think this is funny?" Paige asked, but there was no heat in it.
"A little," Azzi admitted.
"Sue me for not being able to keep my hands off you," Paige said, but she was smiling.
They kissed again, slower this time, more tender.
"We should probably get back," Azzi said eventually, even though she really didn't want to get out of the stall.
"Prolly," Paige agreed, but she didn't let go.
When they finally emerged from the bathroom, Angel and Flau'jae were waiting by the bar with matching smirks.
"Took you long enough," Angel said.
"Shut up," Azzi said, but she was smiling.
"We're heading out," Paige said, her hand finding Azzi's. "You guys good?"
"We're great," Flau'jae said. "You two have fun."
"Oh, they will," Angel said with a wink.
Azzi flipped her off while yelling “Love y’all!” over the music.
"My place?" Paige asked as she opened Uber.
"Yeah, baby," Azzi said.
Paige smiled and squeezed her hand. "Good. I got unfinished business.”
The ride to Paige's apartment was quiet, but it wasn't uncomfortable. Azzi's hand rested on Paige's thigh, and Paige's hand covered hers, their fingers intertwined. The tension from the club was still there, simmering just below the surface.
Paige watched as Azzi stared out the window at the Dallas lights. Azzi turned, catching her staring, and the corner of her mouth lifted in that knowing smile that made Paige's stomach flip.
"What?" Azzi whispered, though she knew exactly what.
"Nothing," Paige said, but her voice came out rougher than intended.
Azzi's thumb began tracing slow circles on Paige's thigh, barely moving, just enough pressure to remind Paige it was there. The touch was innocent enough that the driver wouldn't notice, but Paige felt it everywhere. She tightened her grip on Azzi's hand, but wasn’t sure if she did it as a warning or an encouragement.
Her hand shifted higher, just an inch, fingers spreading slightly. Paige's breath hitched audibly in the car.
"Az," Paige murmured, barely a whisper. She didn’t expect the tables to be turned on her like this.
"Hmm?" Azzi's voice was honey-sweet innocence, but her hand moved again, sliding higher with deliberate slowness. Her pinky finger brushed against Paige’s belt loops.
Paige bit her lip, her free hand gripping the door handle. She could feel her pulse in her throat, in her fingertips, everywhere Azzi was touching her.
She brought their intertwined hands to her lips and kissed Azzi's knuckles, letting her lips linger there. She felt Azzi's sharp intake of breath, saw the way her brown eyes focused on her.
Azzi leaned in close, her lips brushing Paige's ear. "I've been thinking about this all night," she whispered, her breath hot against Paige's skin. "About all the things I want to do to you."
Paige's eyes fluttered closed, a shiver running through her body despite the warmth of the car. "Have you?" she managed, her voice barely steady.
"Mmhmm." Azzi's hand slid higher still, her fingers now touching the bare skin of Paige’s stomach under her tank. "About kissing every inch of you. About making you say my name."
"Azzi," Paige whispered, and Azzi smiled against her ear.
"Just like that," she said. Her fingers traced patterns on Paige's abs, trailing down right above the button of her pants. "You're so fucking attractive, you know that? Watching you play tonight, watching everyone else watch you, being in that damn club... all I could think about was that you were going home with me."
Paige turned her head, capturing Azzi's lips in a kiss that was probably too heated for the back of an Uber, but she couldn't help herself. Azzi kissed her back with equal passion, her nails digging into Paige’s skin.
When they broke apart, both breathing hard, Paige glanced at the driver, but he seemed oblivious, focused on the road with the radio up.
"Jesus Christ, how far away are we?" Paige mumbled as she opened Maps.
Azzi giggled as her fingers continued their teasing exploration, drawing circles and figure-eights on Paige's sensitive skin. Each touch felt like a shock. Paige knew her brand new lilac boxers were drenched.
"Patience, baby," Azzi whispered.
"I don't feel very patient," Paige admitted, her hand sliding up Azzi's arm, over her shoulder, fingers playing with the soft curls at the nape of her neck.
"I can tell," Azzi said, her eyes dropping to where Paige's chest was rising and falling with quick breaths. "Your heart's racing. I can see it."
"Yeah cause of you," Paige said, but there was no accusation in it, only want.
"I know." Azzi leaned in again, pressing a soft kiss to Paige's neck, just below her ear. "I'll make it up to you. Promise."
The Uber slowed, and Paige glanced out to see her building waiting for them. Thank fuck. She wasn't sure how much more of this torture she could take.
She nearly threw herself out of the car as she mumbled a quick thank you and got out.
The night air was cool against her flushed skin, but it did nothing to calm the fire Azzi had stoked. Paige fumbled with her key card at the door, swiping it twice before the lock finally clicked open.
The lobby was empty, their footsteps echoing on the polished floor as they made their way to the elevator. Paige pressed the button and they waited, standing close enough that their shoulders touched.
The elevator dinged and the doors slid open. They stepped inside and Paige hit the button for the fifth floor. The moment the doors closed, sealing them in the small, mirrored space, everything shifted.
"You alright?" Azzi asked softly, and despite the heat between them, there was genuine care in her voice.
Paige turned to look at her, at this woman who could make her feel like she was burning alive with just a touch, just a look. "Yeah, baby," she said. "I just want you so fucking bad right now."
Azzi turned to her, backing Paige gently against the elevator mirrors. "I can’t keep my hands off of you.”
She leaned in, her lips brushing against Paige's jaw, just below her ear. Not quite a kiss, just a whisper of contact that made Paige's eyes flutter closed. Azzi's hands found her hips, thumbs stroking small circles there.
"Az," Paige breathed, tilting her head to give her better access.
Azzi's lips traced a teasing path down her neck. Tell me what you want," she murmured against Paige's skin.
"Everything," Paige said without hesitation.
She felt Azzi smile against her throat. "Ok, baby."
Azzi's lipstick had left a faint mark on Paige's neck, and Paige's hands were tangled in Azzi's curls, having mussed it without realizing.
Then Azzi's lips were on her neck properly, kissing and sucking gently, and Paige's hands tightened in Azzi's hair. One of Azzi's hands slid from her hip to her thigh, then inward, pushing up between her thighs and spreading them apart ever so slightly.
"Fuck," Paige gasped, her hips jerking forward involuntarily.
Azzi then moved her fingers back to Paige’s belt loops teasingly. She rose her knee up into Paige’s core and the whimper that left the blonde was guttural.
"Shh," Azzi whispered, but she was smiling, clearly pleased with the reaction she was getting. "Almost there."
Paige could feel how wet she was, and knew Azzi could tell already.
The doors opened as they reached the fifth floor. Paige's legs felt shaky as they stepped out, walking quickly down the hallway.
At her door, Paige dug through her pockets for her keys, her hands shaking slightly. She could feel Azzi behind her, close enough that she could feel her breath on the back of her neck.
"Need help?" Azzi asked, slightly amused at how flustered she’d gotten the blonde.
"I've got it," Paige insisted, finally finding the keys. But as she raised them to the lock, Azzi's arms wrapped around her waist from behind, pulling her back against her body. Paige's hand froze.
"Az," she said, half-warning, half-plea.
Azzi's lips found the spot where her neck met her shoulder, pressing a real kiss there this time, open-mouthed and warm. "Open the door, baby," she whispered against Paige's skin.
Paige tried. She really did. But Azzi's hands were sliding up her sides, and her lips were doing things that made coherent thought nearly impossible. The key scraped against the lock, missing the keyhole entirely.
"You're not helping," Paige said, but she was smiling, her head falling back against Azzi's shoulder.
"I'm not trying to help," Azzi admitted, her hands settling on Paige's hips again, holding her close. One hand slid around to Paige's stomach, then lower, pressing against her through her pants. "I'm trying to drive you crazy."
"It's working," Paige whispered.
"Good."
Paige turned in her arms, the keys still clutched in her hand. Azzi's hand came up to cup her face, thumb stroking her cheek, and leaned in. Paige made a small sound in the back of her throat, pressing closer, one hand fisting in Azzi's top while the other still held the keys.
Azzi's tongue traced Paige's bottom lip and Paige opened for her immediately, the kiss turning heated and desperate. Azzi tasted like the drinks they'd had at the club, and Paige couldn't get enough.
"Door," Azzi reminded her, her voice rough. "Now. Or I swear to god I'm going to fuck you right here in this hallway."
The words sent a bolt of heat straight through Paige's body, and for a moment she actually considered it. But then sanity prevailed, and she turned around, managing to get the key in the lock on the first try this time, though Azzi's hands never left her hips, her lips pressing kisses to Paige's shoulder, the back of her neck, anywhere she could reach.
The lock clicked and Paige pushed the door open, pulling Azzi inside with her.
The door had barely closed behind them before they were reaching for each other again, all the restraint from the Uber and the elevator and the hallway finally breaking. Azzi backed Paige against the closed door, their lips meeting in a kiss that could only be described as borderline pornographic.
Paige's keys clattered to the floor, forgotten, as her hands found their way into Azzi's hair, holding her close.
“You’re gonna kill me,” Paige whispers.
“I am?” Azzi giggles
“Mhm. Cause I’m gonna take my time with you tonight. Now you’re gonna have to have some patience, baby,” Paige says as she squeezes Azzi’s ass.
“God, Paige, please just fuck me,” Azzi begs.
“Come with me,” Paige grabs Azzi’s hands and leads them down the hall to her room.
#lana del rey
#cats of tumblr
#horror movies
#photography
