Azzi is ready to burn (December 3, 2024)

Azzi decided, in the millisecond before she closed the space between them: This is wrong and I shouldn’t be liking this this much.  

It wasn’t just the cheap tequila burning in her blood, making the air in the cramped dorm room feel hot. It was Paige Bueckers, the human catalyst that dissolved every shred of Azzi’s meticulous self-control. And every time she got near Paige, the Azzi “responsible athlete” Fudd persona disintegrated, replaced by someone reckless and dangerously self-aware.

This was their weird gravitational pull: stumbling out of loud parties and back into this exact situation, only to execute the careful dance the next morning where they swore it meant nothing.

It was their shared, toxic liturgy.

And yet, Azzi could admit, she was desperate for the sanctuary of this specific moment. 

Her arms were looped around Paige’s neck, her fingers tangled in the annoyingly perfect blonde hair, and her full body was pressed against  Paige’s chest. There was no place on Earth that felt more right than Paige Fucking Bueckers’ lap, even as the knowledge that this was temporary (this was forbidden) left a bad taste of dread in her mouth.

Azzi wanted her, and with that, she was completely done for.

Because the thing about Paige Bueckers was that she wasn’t built for what Azzi “wanted”. Paige was built for greatness, marketed to be the quintessential All-American sweetheart, built by conservative expectations and NIL contracts. 

Paige didn’t get messy, Paige didn’t do relationships and she certainly didn’t talk about the feelings Azzi always felt bubbling over the surface.  

So, when they touched, when they made a drunken mess of each other, it always came with the unspoken, heavy "but…"

But this threatens the image. 

But we can’t risk the career. 

But it doesn’t mean anything, right?

And while Azzi had been content pretending that was enough, she was starting to wonder if the pretense was just a sophisticated way of slowly breaking out her own heart. 

The reality was, Azzi was a mess. 

She had only ever had crushes on boys before, until Paige. Until stolen kisses after too much contraband Fireball from Azzi’s parents drinking cabinet. Paige Bueckers had cracked her world open. 

But kissing Azzi wasn't a discovery for Paige, Azzi knew about the rumors, the secret high school make-outs the blonde hid so carefully. 

If Azzi was to be honest with herself, she would admit that the sheer volume of Paige’s experience made her feel like what they had was nothing but a cheap fumbling experimentation.

But tonight? For now? That self doubt was muted by the tequila and Azzi leaned in, her breath ghosting over Paige’s mouth. 

She smiled, a reckless thing “Tell me to stop,” Azzi whispered, breathless

Paige’s grip on Azzi’s waist didn't just tighten, it anchored, a silent, possessive claim that pulled Azzi flush against her, eradicating every remaining space.

Paige answered the only way she ever did: with a kiss that was less a kiss and more  furious consumption. Paige’s mouth was open, hungry, demanding, her tongue sweeping inside leaving Azzi’s heart hammering against her ribs.  

Azzi gasped into the kiss, a soft moan escaping her throat, a sound Paige devoured.

Paige’s hand slipped under Azzi’s shirt, cool fingers tracing the curve of her breast, then splaying wide over her lower back, pressing her closer until Azzi could feel the frantic, undeniable beat of Paige’s heart against her own.

Paige broke the kiss, just enough for Azzi to suck in a breath, their foreheads resting together. Paige’s blue eyes, usually so sharp, were soft now, slightly dazed with desire.

“I would never,” Paige breathed, her voice hoarse, her gaze fixed on Azzi’s lips. “I would never tell you to stop.”

“Think they’re still at the bar?” Azzi finally managed to whisper.

“Probably ordering another round, Princess,” Paige murmured, her thumb tracing the sensitive curve of Azzi’s jaw. The pet name, dragged out and familiar, always shattered Azzi’s composure. “We bought ourselves… maybe ten more minutes before KK comes hunting.”

“Yeah, so we need to stop and be quiet,” Azzi insisted, her eyes flicking toward the door. 

The image of the team’s reaction, brought panic to her chest.

Paige’s gaze followed hers, then returned, a dark spark of mischief lighting her eyes. “I don’t know about stopping, but quiet? Is that a challenge?” Her fingers tightened, pulling Azzi’s hips forward, grinding them subtly against her own.

“Paige,” Azzi pleaded,  “They’ll be here any minute. We can’t…”

“Can’t we?” Paige cut her off, her blue eyes piercing. 

She leaned in, not to kiss, but to whisper against Azzi’s mouth, her breath hot “Do you just want them to hear, Azzi?”

“We really need to stop and be quiet,” Azzi repeated, her voice stronger this time, pressing her fingers against Paige’s shoulder in a plea for restraint. 

You’re supposed to care about your career, too.  

“Fine,” Paige ceded, but her eyes narrowed, taking on the familiar, infuriating spark of a predator spotting its prey. 

It was the same look she got on the court when she knew her shot was going to hit, her gaze dropped to Azzi’s lips, still slightly swollen, then down Azzi’s body.

“What?” Azzi asked, her voice barely audible.

Paige leaned in again. “We have to be quiet,” she repeated, “But we don’t have to stop.” 

Her hand, which had been resting on Azzi’s knee, began to move, slowly, deliberately, up the inside of Azzi’s thigh. The heat of her palm burned through the soft cotton of Azzi’s navy blue panties, a direct line to her core.

Azzi gasped, the sound smothered by her own hand clamped over her mouth.

“Paige,” she pleaded silently, her head falling back onto the pillow, her body arching.

Paige’s wicked grin widened, the victory in her eyes complete. “Princess,” she whispered, her fingers moving the cotton away, finding soft wet skin, “Wouldn’t want anyone to hear us.”

Pushing Azzi to the very edge of her control, the tremor started in Azzi’s legs, that slow, agonizing build of desire that Paige always seemed to love to bring her.

Azzi closed her eyes, biting down hard on her lip to keep the sound in. 

Tonight, right here, on her best friend’s lap, Azzi was ready to burn.

Paige couldn't afford to be that emotional (December 4, 2024)

Paige wasn’t sure what scared her more: that Azzi stayed the night, or that the sight of her asleep in the bed was currently dismantling every defense mechanism Paige had spent the last five years building.

Fuck, this wasn’t supposed to be like this. 

Their agreement (the one that had never been spoken) was simple: illicit, temporary, and confined to the night time. But Azzi was right there, asleep in her bed, her breathing soft, and the morning light shining on her dark curls against the white cotton.

 God, Paige prayed Azzi was wearing her panties under the t-shirt.

A part of Paige felt disgustingly dirty, watching her best friend like this, for wanting to turn something uncomplicated into an absolute mess. But the dirtiness had a possessive burn: Azzi, here, in her bed, wearing her shirt. Mine.

It was a complicated feeling. 

Azzi was not a fling, she was the best friend Paige had ever had (the only one, really, since they met at USA camp). Azzi was the one person who saw Paige, not the brand, so having her was the greatest risk of all.  

Paige didn’t even know what Azzi’s deal was. 

God, she had never asked if Azzi was gay. 

Never asked, because the wrong answer would end this, and the right answer would ruin my life. 

Maybe Azzi was just drawn to her, Paige Bueckers, not the concept of girls in general. And while that was a selfish thought, it was an immensely comforting one that her private vanity desperately clung to.  

And Paige knew she liked girls, she had always known, she'd been messing around with girls discreetly since high school, always in secret of course. 

“Liking girls” wasn’t something she could admit out loud, not as Paige Bueckers. Well, Paige Bueckers was the marketable All-American, and the unwritten contract (signed in endorsements and public appearances) was that her private life would remain conventional. 

I can’t afford to be gay. 

And at home, it wasn’t all that different. Paige knew being gay wasn’t going to be as easy for her as it was for someone like Azzi. The Bueckers were kind and loving (her dad, her mom, her stepmom) but they weren’t exactly cool with the idea.

She still remembers the tears and the arguments about not wanting to wear dresses to church, she knows exactly how they feel about it. They know, too. It’s this strange, heavy thing, when both sides know the truth but are too afraid to say it out loud. 

Because she knows what’s waiting on the other side of that conversation: disappointment.

And that’s what made her think of Azzi again. 

The Fudds were loud and liberal and endlessly accepting, and they adored Paige, treated her like part of the family. God, Azzi’s mom had even joked more than once about the two of them dating. 

All that, unfortunately, just made Paige feel so fucking bitter.

Because Azzi didn’t have to hide, her parents would love her anyway, Paige’s parents wouldn’t. Azzi would never be a disappointment in her parents’ eyes, yet she seemed to take that for granted.

It wasn’t Azzi’s fault, of course. It wasn’t really anyone’s fault…It just was. 

Still, it felt unfair. Paige couldn’t help but think that if she’d grown up in the Fudds’ house, maybe she wouldn’t be so scared of everything. Maybe, even if she still couldn’t afford to be gay because of her career, she could at least know she wasn’t a disappointment at home.

Azzi stirred, a soft sound escaping her lips as she burrowed deeper into the pillow. Paige’s breath hitched, caught in her thoughts. 

The morning light, which Paige usually hated, seemed to draw out the caramel tones of Azzi’s skin. 

Azzi’s eyes slowly open, blinking. Her gaze landed on Paige, sitting by the bed, and a slow, sleepy smile bloomed on her face, dimple flashing.

That fucking smile. It undid Paige every single time.

“Morning,” Azzi mumbled, her voice still sleepy. She stretched, and the t-shirt rode up, revealing a sliver of toned midriff.

“Morning, Princess,” Paige responded, her voice coming out softer than she intended.

Then Azzi’s face changed, replaced by a sudden panic.

“Wait,” she sat up, eyes wide. “Oh my God. I stayed over.” Paige’s stomach dropped. 

She’s scared.

“Azzi, it’s fine.” Paige tried to keep her voice calm.

But Azzi was already spiraling, grabbing her phone “No, no, no, this is bad. If the girls saw me leave this morning, they’re gonna think there’s, like, something going on.” 

Her voice was a frantic whisper, her eyes wide with genuine alarm.

Paige’s throat went dry. 

Azzi wasn’t just worried about reputation, she was worried about being known. 

And seeing Azzi's panic (a panic Paige fully understood) sparked a hot surge of resentment. 

You're worried about them knowing? Try having your entire family relationship depend on your heterosexuality.

“It’s fine,” Paige said, forcing the lie out because Azzi was already pulling on her shoes, “I told them you were way too drunk, that you crashed here. They saw me, not you.” 

Paige hadn't said a word to anyone, but the lie felt necessary, to protect Azzi’s fragile comfort.

The tension drained out of Azzi, replaced by a relief that made Paige feel disgusted with herself.

She’d rather let them think she’s an fucking alcoholic than let them think she’s with me.

Azzi gave her a grateful smile. “Okay, yeah. Thanks, P.” She zipped up her jacket, grabbed her bag, and gave Paige one last glance before hurrying out the door.

The door clicked shut, and Paige wanted to scream.

Fuck, she wanted to grab Azzi and shake her until she admitted that this was something, that they were more than a convenience.Paige sat on the edge of the bed for a minute, the spot where Azzi had been still warm. She pulled herself up, and headed out to the kitchen

KK was there, leaning against the counter, scrolling through her phone. Aubrey was perched nearby.

“Well, well, well,” KK grinned without looking up. “Look who finally emerged from her love nest”

Aubrey took off one headphone, a knowing smirk on her face. “Took you long enough, P. We were starting to think Azzi had you chained to the bed.”

“Don’t start,” Paige muttered, pulling open the fridge aggressively, doing nothing to improve her mood. The memory of Azzi still tugged on her nerves.

“Okay, but like,” KK’s grin only widened, “are you gonna tell us when the wedding is or should I just pencil in spring? We need a headcount for the national championship party, might as well combine.”

“Shut up.” Paige’s voice was sharper than she meant.

She slammed the fridge shut, rattling the bottles.

KK raised an eyebrow, finally looking at her, her expression losing its playfulness. “Whoa. Relax.”

“Yeah, well, maybe stop.” Paige’s voice was icy. “You guys don’t know what you’re talking about.” 

“We literally do,” Aubrey interjected, leaning forward on the stool. “We heard you two last night. And we saw Azzi practically sprint out the door now.”

“You don’t.” Paige’s jaw was tight.

KK tilted her head, studying her. “Okay, you’re mad. Whatever’s going on, it’s between you and Azzi, but don’t get all cold with us when we didn’t do anything”

She knew KK wasn’t the problem, the problem was that Azzi had been terrified of being associated with her, and Paige couldn't afford to be that emotional.

Azzi can be quiet (December 8, 2024)

SMUT WARNING (Minors DNI)

Paige’s jaw ached from the sheer amount of teeth she’d been gritting since Azzi left her bedroom running four days ago.

She was still fucking pissed at Azzi, but, per the norm, they were still attached at the hip.

The lines were so fucking blurred they were practically erased, which was part of the problem. Paige felt now like a dirty secret, something Azzi tucked away in a tiny box she only opened after dark.

And, God, this sense of being a secret felt like a judgment. 

Like Paige was the cautionary tale, the “player” who’d messed around with girls in college before Azzi arrived. 

Player. The word tasted bitter. 

She had experimented (kissing, making out, sometimes sex) because she’d missed out in high school, needing to feel desired, needing to gain the experience she'd hidden from her family. 

Fuck, it was fun, harmless.  

They were hanging out after practice at the park near the dorms, surrounded by girls from soccer, volleyball, and hockey. Paige was talking to Emerson, a volleyball player she’d hooked up with twice. 

Emerson was light-skinned and had a similar build to Azzi, and that fact always made a strange discomfort crawl beneath Paige’s skin. 

Am I just obsessed with the one girl who might not even be completely gay?  

She was mid-sentence when she saw it. 

Azzi was three feet away, talking to a girl from soccer, and they were damn close, too close. 

That tiny, insidious voice in Paige’s head, the one that hated that Azzi had only ever been serious with men, roared back to life. Boys were a safe, comfortable distance, but this soccer girl? That was a direct threat, a real, bona fide rival for the “Paige is the only girl” dynamic.

Suddenly, Emerson’s conversation vanished

Paige walked over, her whole body tense with an emotion she only now recognized as jealousy.

“Hey. What’s up?” Paige’s voice was too casual.

Before Azzi could answer, Paige’s hand was on her waist. 

It was a bold, public claim, the line they never crossed. 

Azzi’s eyes went wide, and a faint blush immediately climbed up her neck. Paige felt a surge of triumph.

You want to act like I’m a dirty secret? Fine. I’ll make myself impossible to ignore.

She leaned in, close enough to smell Azzi’s familiar scent. “You ready to go?” she purred, looking right at the soccer girl, who was definitely catching the vibe.

Azzi’s little hairs stood up on her neck, Paige saw the chills rise. Azzi was undone.

“Yeah, we should probably get back,” Azzi managed, her voice a little shaky. 

She gently pulled Paige’s hand off her waist and grabbed her hand instead, holding it tight, a public concession that made Paige’s heart thump harder.

They said goodbye to the others, and as they walked toward the dorms, the air between them was electric

“Do you want to come back to my dorm?” Paige asked.

“Um, I don’t think so,” Azzi said.

Paige stopped, pulling Azzi closer “I really think you do.”

Back in Paige’s room, the silence was heavy, and Azzi was still jittery.

“So,” Paige started, leaning back against the door, crossing her arms. “You were flirting with that girl.”

Azzi immediately fired back. “You were flirting with Emerson, the girl you hooked up with, right?”

Paige rolled her eyes. “Okay, whatever. I’m just saying. I didn’t know you flirted with girls like that.”

“Like what?”

“Like... I didn’t think you were into girls like that,” Paige said, letting a slight, mean irony creep into her tone, the anger was bubbling up again. 

You're only comfortable enough to flirt openly when I’m not the target. You're ashamed of me.  

“What the fuck are you talking about? ‘Into girls’?Of course I am, I’m into you” Azzi snapped, her voice rising “Just because I hooked up with guys, you think I’m suddenly not into girls?

“That’s not what I said. I know you hate being seen with me, seen with a girl. So maybe you’re just ashamed of it.” Paige felt a shot of pure vindictiveness.

 “Ashamed of it? Paige Bueckers, you’re saying I’m ashamed of being with a girl? You’re the one who makes sure no one ever knew you kissed a girl. Even though you’re a huge fucking lesbian.” 

“That sounded a little strong,” Paige said, eyes narrowing. 

“There’s nothing wrong with being a lesbian”

“And there’s nothing wrong with hooking up with multiple guys in High School, like you did Azzi”

“Wait, wait, stop. Multiple guys?” Azzi cut her off, throwing her hands up “I kissed two guys, and I hooked up with one guy. Why do you always act like that? Every time it’s about guys, you make me sound like a fucking whore!”

“Whore? Who said that? But you did had sex more than one time, I know that for a fact, it was not just one guy”

“I hooked up with just one guy! We had sax multiple times, we almost dated, Paige!” Azzi’s confession brought a full stop to Paige’s anger.

Multiple times

Paige froze, her blood turning to ice. Paige hadn't done that with the girls. That guy got her to stick around, to commit to him while she kept Paige a secret.

“More times than you hooked up with me?” Paige’s voice was dangerously quiet, laced with the doubt that she was just a practice run.  

Azzi finally saw it, the insecurity. She rolled her eyes. “I don’t know, Paige. Why are you so fucking insecure about that?”

“I know he didn’t do it as well as I did,” Paige blurted out, trying to recover her confidence.

Azzi went completely still. 

Her tone shifted, low and dangerous. “Who said that?”

Paige’s body froze. 

Azzi kept going “Who said you were better than him? I never said that.”

Paige moved closer, her mood shifting completely. 

Oh, she knows exactly what she’s doing. She was going to fuck the breath out of Azzi.

She walked the two steps to the door and double-checked the lock, then turned back to Azzi, who stood there in a big t-shirt and tiny shorts, her legs bare and beautiful.

“Oh, so you never said that,” Paige challenged.

She pulled Azzi by the waist, feeling the little hairs stand up again. Azzi was dying to have her, and Paige was dying to have Azzi.

“Well, you can tell me tonight. It’s gonna be the first time. You can tell me tonight.”

Azzi looked panicked. “The girls are about to come back.”

Paige didn’t answer with words, she slid her hands into Azzi’s hair, pulling gently, and kissed her hard. She felt Azzi moan against her mouth, a surrendered sound.

Paige broke the kiss and slid her mouth close to Azzi’s ear, sucking lightly on the lobe.

“Well, Azzi,” she whispered, Azzi moaned again, a little too loudly. Paige licked her neck, then kissed her cheek, pulling back slightly. “Then you’re gonna have to be quiet.”

Azzi just nodded, eyes half-lidded, pulling Paige closer. Paige steered them backward until Azzi fell onto the bed, her hair half-out of its bun.

Fuck. I can’t believe I got to have you

 Paige only realized she’d said that out loud when she saw Azzi’s cheeks flush deep red.

She climbed onto the bed, between Azzi’s legs, and kissed her again. She went to work, kissing down Azzi’s neck, finding that exact spot that made her shiver.

Her hands slipped under the shirt, cupping Azzi’s breasts. “You know your boobs are exactly the size of my hands?” She smiled into Azzi’s neck.

Azzi laughed, breathless. “You’re so stupid”

“They are.”

Paige pushed the shirt up and exposed a nipple, hot and firm. She put her mouth right on it, sucking, and Azzi moaned.

Paige looked up from under the shirt. “I think they’re made for me, really.”

“Please, just prove me you’re better then him” Azzi whispered, her hands already moving to gently pull at Paige’s hair.

Paige went back to her breast, gave a strong suck, and covered Azzi’s mouth with her hand when she moaned. “Don’t talk about him when I have my hands on you.” 

Azzi agreed against her palm.

Paige’s kisses trailed down

She put her mouth over Azzi’s underwear and started sucking on the fabric. Azzi’s body writhed, her thighs coming up to rest on Paige’s shoulders, the heavy, delicious weight that made Paige want to moan herself.

Paige’s movements grew messy. 

She liked eating messily, no precision, just focused hunger. The underwear was pushed aside, and her tongue went to work, flicking and sucking hard on Azzi’s clit. Azzi threw her head back, trying to control the loud sounds in her throat.

Paige pulled back, her face an absolute mess, and kissed quickly over Azzi’s body to wipe some of it away. 

She went back to Azzi’s ear, her voice rough.

“Does he eat you like I do?”

Azzi laughed, shaky. “I think no one will ever do me like you do”

Paige went back in, big licks, her whole mouth on her. 

Azzi was completely contorted, moaning loudly now, past caring about the girls. Paige went back up, her hand now fully resting on Azzi’s sex, waiting.

When Azzi finally gave the silent go-ahead, Paige went back down, and slowly, gently, inserted her fingers. 

Azzi was so warm, so wet, her legs went up over Paige’s shoulders, two fingers moving in easily.

Then they heard the door rattling.

KK’s voice, muffled. “Paige? You in? You there?”

They heard her, she thought, but she didn’t say it.

Paige pulled her hand from Azzi’s mouth and placed Azzi’s own hand there. She looked at the door, then back at Azzi’s desperate eyes.

“Now you have to be quiet,” she whispered, and started fucking Azzi faster.

Azzi’s head leaned back, her body shaking as she tried to stifle the sound.

Paige put a hand on Azzi’s neck, choking the sounds. “Yeah, I’m here! It’s fine, don’t come in, though. I’m pretty sure the door is unlocked.” That was a lie

Azzi was looking at her with a desperate, pleading look. 

Paige leaned all the way over to her ear. “I know you like that”

Azzi rolled her eyes, biting on her own fingers covering her mouth.

Paige kept her hand on Azzi’s neck, her fingers still fucking. “Princess, you’re gonna take your hand out of your mouth to answer me something.”

Azzi’s body was convulsing, Paige knew she was close.

Paige stopped, dead still “Am I better than him?”

Azzi pulled her hand away. “It was never even a competition.”

Paige bit her lip and went back to fucking her hard and it didn’t take long until she felt Azzi’s body shaking underneath hers.

Azzi bit down on Paige’s shoulder, a silent moan escaping as she came, shaking violently.

It didn't take long for Paige to finish herself, too.

They lay side by side, sweaty and breathless. Paige propped herself up on an elbow and touched Azzi’s face. Her voice was soft. “If you fall asleep, don’t wake up running the next morning, please.”

Azzi looked over at her, her eyes heavy. “I won’t. If you don’t want me to, I won’t.”

“It’s okay, I’ll get something to clean you up”

“I would really appreciate that,” Azzi said, nodding toward her messily pleasured body.

Paige got up, careful and silent.

She didn’t look at the hall where KK and Aubrey were surely rolling their eyes. She went to the communal bathroom and came back with baby wipes. 

She leaned Azzi over, cleaning her gently. They curled up together on the bed to go to sleep.

That night, Azzi didn't leave running, and when Paige woke up, Azzi was still there.

Azzi has a Ten-Minute Rule (December 12, 2024)

Azzi hated that Paige always thought she was right about everything, especially reading the court.

“You missed the screen Azzi, you missed two easy screens”

And Azzi, stubborn and deeply insecure about her performance, hated being told she’d missed a pass or a screen. So their fight hadn’t been about basketball, not at all.

She thinks I’m not good enough.

God, Azzi hated being mad at her, but a part of her needed the distance. She needed the excuse to not engage with the magnetic charm of the only girl she’d ever loved.

She also had a crucial paper due for Professor Miller’s Communication seminar, and she could not afford to waste another second analyzing the confident spark of Paige’s eyes.

 So Azzi was sitting in her room, headphones in, laptop open, trying to focus. Then, the knocking started.

Bang, bang, bang.

Azzi sighed, staring harder at the textbook, Paige could wait. 

Bang, bang, bang.

The thing is: Paige Bueckers was the most annoyingly persistent person on Earth. It was infuriating (and endearing). Which was the problem.

Azzi yanked out one headphone. “I’m studying!” She knew she was being childish, holding onto the petty anger from the game, but she needed this.

“I know you are,” Paige’s voice came through the door, muffled but smug, and Azzi could almost see the smirk.

Bang, bang, bang. 

“Seriously, I need to finish this. I told you I was busy, Paige.” Azzi’s voice cracked slightly.

“I don’t like it when you’re mad.” The words, even muffled, held a hint of vulnerability that tugged at Azzi’s chest.

Damn it

Paige always knew how to hit the soft spot.

Azzi groaned, burying her face in her hands, then she grabbed her phone and texted quickly: I’ll be out in 10 minutes 

It was their rule, from when they needed time away from each-other, the 10-minute rule. 

But the banging didn’t stop, and Paige was literally ignoring her text.

This was Paige, always pushing, always fucking testing boundaries. 

Getting her way because she doesn’t have to deal with the consequences from me. 

And sometimes, Azzi resented the hell out of that carefree power Paige had over her, she resented that Paige could mess around with girls in secret, acquiring experience that Azzi lacked, only to turn around and subtly judge Azzi for having hooked up with boys.  

She glared at the door. “PAIGE. GO AWAY.”

From the other room, Chen shouted, “Please let her in! I can’t listen to this anymore!”

Azzi finally gave up and opened the door, arms crossed, trying to look stern even though Paige was already grinning like she’d just sunk a damn game winning three pointer. Paige leaned against the doorframe, all casual grace, eyes filled with mischief.

“What?” Azzi asked, pretending she wasn’t softening.

Paige stepped in, closing the door behind her with a soft click, leaning in like she was about to say a secret, her breath warm on Azzi’s cheek. 

Azzi braced herself for another playful jab about the game.

But then…

“Just wanted to say I miss you, baby,” Paige said, stupidly sweet, absolutely unserious, dragging out the “baby” like a player. She pulled back just enough to watch Azzi’s reaction, that knowing look on her face.

Baby, she felt a flush creep up her neck.

“You’re so annoying,” Azzi mumbled, turning away, pretending to rearrange books on her desk because she didn’t trust her face not to show how much that word had actually affected her. 

How much she actually did miss Paige, even after an argument.

“But you missed me too,” Paige teased, following her, bumping their shoulders together, her warmth seeping through Azzi’s shirt. “Admit it, you were bored without me.”

“You’re the worst.” Azzi tried for annoyed, but it came out fond.

“You love me Fudd” Paige’s voice was a low hum, confident.  

Azzi gave up on studying that night.

So they settled on Azzi’s small bed, watching a movie neither of them were really paying attention to. Paige’s arm was draped casually over Azzi’s waist, her fingers lightly doing circles on Azzi’s hip. 

Azzi shifted slightly, trying to create a microscopic space between their bodies, but Paige just snuggled closer, like it was the most natural thing in the world, her breath warm against Azzi’s neck. 

Paige's fingers tightened ever so slightly on Azzi's hip.

From the other room, Chen’s voice echoed faintly, muffled but clear enough to make Azzi’s stomach clench. “Oh, not mad anymore? You went soft Azzi.”

The casualness of her comment, the total lack of surprise, sent a fresh wave of anxiety through Azzi. 

She glanced at Paige, whose smirk only deepened, completely unbothered, as if the comment was just a throw away joke, where Azzi is the punchline.

She’s not scared, she has nothing to lose. She’s the player.

Paige just smirked. “Told you you missed me.”

“You know, for someone who put a ‘ten-minute rule’ on me,” Paige murmured, her voice a low rumble against Azzi’s ear, her lips just brushing the sensitive skin there, “you’re not very good at enforcing it.”

Azzi shivered.

The “ten-minute rule.” was supposed to be her shield, but Paige had weaponized it, turning it into a game she always won. It was never ten minutes, it was ten minutes until Azzi remembered how much she loved having Paige around.

“It’s a work in progress,” Azzi mumbled, trying to sound nonchalant.

“Mmm-hmm,” Paige hummed, skepticism in her tone. “Or maybe you just like having me around too much to really want me to go.” She leaned her head back, shifting slightly so her blonde hair tickled Azzi’s jaw. 

The scent of Paige filled Azzi’s senses, distracting her from everything: her paper, the team, the entire world outside.

Paige finally turned her head, her gaze locking with Azzi’s. Her eyes were intense. “You know, you could always just admit it.”

“Admit what?” Azzi asked, trying to sound bored.

“That you like me. Like, really, really like me.” Her voice was a low murmur, just for Azzi.

Azzi’s heart hammered against her ribs. She wanted to deny it, she wanted to laugh it off.

She didn’t.

“Paige,” Azzi whispered, her voice barely audible. It wasn’t a denial, it wasn’t an admission, It was begging.

Paige’s smirk faded, replaced by something softer. Her fingers on Azzi’s hip tightened almost imperceptibly in silent reassurance.

 “It’s okay,” she whispered back, her voice soothing against Azzi’s panicked heart.

And then, without another word, Paige leaned in pressing a soft kiss to Azzi’s temple

Azzi closed her eyes, biting down on the inside of her cheek. 

And Azzi knew, with a terrifying certainty, that she was falling. 

Paige does not lose control (31 of December 2024)

Paige was pretty sure Azzi had crossed the “little drunk” line about two rounds ago.

Normally, they’d keep it subtle, but tonight, Azzi was chasing something, a recklessness fueled by the chaos of New Year’s Eve.

She was laughing a little too loud, swaying a little too loose on her feet, and Paige couldn’t take her eyes off her. The skirt Azzi was wearing wasn’t helping: a tiny, soft fabric that barely contained the long, toned legs. 

She knows I’m obsessed,  and she wears this for me.

Azzi’s brown skin glowed under the bar lights, her curls falling perfectly, her smile landing right on Paige and nowhere else.

It was genuinely unfair and completely distracting.

“She looks insane tonight, huh?” KK yelled over the booming bass, elbowing Paige and smirking.

Paige dragged her hand through her hair, trying to fake annoyance. “It’s a problem.” She couldn’t even summon something fake to say, she just gave out in helpless admission.

And Azzi was not making it easier.

She was doing that thing she knew Paige loved, trailing her fingers up Paige’s arm, a feather-light touch that left a searing trail, tugging her closer. 

Azzi brushed her lips right against Paige’s ear and whispered, “You’re so pretty, P.”

Like it’s just a casual thing to say, like it doesn’t blow my entire brain apart. 

The heat of Azzi's breath, the soft brush of her hair, the way her body leaned into Paige's side. It was a sensory overload, a fucking assault on Paige's control.

Azzi pressed up on Paige in the middle of the room, her hand sliding low on Paige’s back, fingers just brushing the waistband of Paige’s jeans. 

The girls were loving every second of Paige’s collapse.

Paige clenched her jaw, her entire body rigid with the effort of holding herself back. 

“Azzi, babe. Chill.” The endearment slipped out automatically.

Azzi just giggled, her eyes sparkling with mischief. She leaned in closer, her voice sweet against Paige’s ear. “You love me like this.”

Which was true.

God, every ounce of this reckless, bold Azzi was exactly what Paige craved, what she dreamed about.

But then Azzi blinked up at her, her eyes unfocused, swaying a little. 

The playfulness drained out of her face. “I think I’m gonna throw up.”

The sudden shift from intense desire to genuine concern was instantaneous. “Let’s go,” Paige said instantly, grabbing her waist, her grip firm and steady, steering her toward the bathroom while KK hollered behind them, “Good luck, P!”

The bar bathroom was a nightmare. 

Azzi was teary, clinging to Paige, whispering “I’m sorry” over and over while Paige held her hair back and rubbed her back in slow circles.

It should’ve been gross, it really should 

But all Paige could think was how weirdly domestic this felt. How naturally she’d fallen into the role of caregiver, like she’d do this a thousand times without a second thought.

Once Azzi was done, Paige led her out into the cold New Year’s Eve air.

When they got home, the dorm hallways were quiet. Paige helped her undress, her fingers brushing against Azzi’s warm skin, trying and failing miserably to keep her touch impersonal. 

She got Azzi into one of her big t-shirts and boxers, and tucked her into bed.

Paige went to leave, but Azzi’s hand shot out, catching hers, her grip unsurprisingly strong.

“Don’t go,” she whispered, “Stay with me.”

“Okay.” 

Like I was ever going to say no.

Paige showered quickly, the cold water clearing her head just enough to process the chaos. She crawled into bed next to her, and Azzi immediately curled into her, her head resting on Paige’s chest, her arm flung lazily over Paige’s waist.

“I really like being with you,” Azzi mumbled, sleep heavy in her voice, her breath warm against Paige’s skin. “I want this, like for real.” Azzi shifted, nuzzling closer. “I think I love you. I really do.”

Paige just stared at the ceiling, her breath caught in her throat.

The words hung in the air, echoing in the quiet room. 

Paige looked at her, at the soft curl of her hair against Paige’s t-shirt, at the peaceful way she fit there.

And Paige smiled. It was a kind of stupid, giddy smile. The kind that made her entire face ache and her cheeks blush with the force of it. It was the Azzi smile.

Paige woke up as the first hints of dawn filtered through the curtains, and carefully slipped out of bed, finding Jana in the kitchen, already scrolling on her phone.

Jana looked up, a knowing glint in her eye. “How’s Azzi? Survive the night?”

“She’s good. Just sleeping.” Paige tried to sound casual, tried to erase the goofy smile from her face. It was impossible. Her cheeks felt hot.

Jana squinted at her, then slowly, deliberately, put her phone down. “You’re blushing.”

“No,” Paige insisted, her face burning.

“You are.” Jana’s smirk was back, full force.

“It’s not” Paige started, but the words caught in her throat.

“It is,” Jana cut her off, her voice firm, no longer teasing. “You’re in love with her” She crossed her arms, leaning against the counter. “It’s written all over your face. And honestly, it’s about damn time.”

Paige tried to fight it, but her face gave her away completely. 

She couldn’t stop smiling. 

“It’s actually so embarrassing how obvious you two are.” Jana shook her head. “Every time Azzi’s name comes up, you get this stupid look on your face, all giggles and blushing like some middle schooler. It’s pathetic.”

“I can’t help it,” Paige whispered, the admission a quiet, liberating confession.

“She likes you too, you know. You just have to say it.” Jana paused, her tone turning more serious. “You’re making her think this is just messing around, you just have to say it.”

Paige bit back a giddy grin, shaking her head. The time for denial was over.

Azzi is down bad (4 of January 2025)

The air in the common room had the scent of pizza, and an exciting victory, they had crushed Syracuse.

Azzi was, predictably, on the couch, way too close to Paige. 

It had become their default setting, always finding each other. Paige was leaning back, one arm stretched along the top of the couch behind Azzi’s head, her fingers tracing patterns on the soft fabric of Azzi’s pink hoodie.

The flirting had escalated, unchecked, since New Year’s Eve.

Azzi still wasn’t sure if she’d dreamed her confession, or if Paige had just humored her. But the way Paige looked at her now, made her think she remembered every single word.

“Did you see that block, Paige?” Azzi murmured, nudging Paige’s arm, her voice low enough that only Paige would hear. “You are insane.”

Paige chuckled, the sound rumbling softly in her chest. “Please, that was standard. You, though, should be illegal.” Her fingers, which had been resting innocently on the couch, now brushed against Azzi’s hair, a light touch that still sent a shiver down Azzi’s spine. 

She’s playing, she always plays.  

Azzi felt a blush creep up her neck “You’re just saying that.”

“Am I?” Paige’s voice was soft, laced with a challenge. 

She leaned in, her breath warm against Azzi’s ear “I saw you out there.”

Azzi leaned her head back, slowly, deliberately, until it rested against Paige’s shoulder cuddling up to her. 

The movement was an act of surrender and she felt Paige stiffen for a second, before relaxing, her arm tightening around Azzi’s shoulders, almost possessively.

A soft, almost imperceptible blush crept up Paige’s neck, staining her pale skin, and Azzi felt a surge of wicked satisfaction.

Paige Bueckers, the player extraordinaire, is blushing because I leaned on her.

“Look at that,” Ice Brady’s voice cut through the comfortable hum, laced with exaggerated sweetness. “Isn’t that just precious?”

KK snorted from the floor. “I would say annoying.”

Paige, surprisingly, didn’t immediately deflect.

She just cleared her throat, a faint blush still on her cheeks, and tightened her arm around Azzi’s shoulder, a silent claim. “Long game.”

“Uh-huh,” Aubrey said

Azzi closed her eyes for a second, a small smile playing on her lips. 

They knew, of course, they knew. Azzi’s panic fading, replaced by a sense of liberation.

God, I am so down bad for this girl, Azzi thought, a wave of affection washing over her.

She was ridiculously gone.

A few minutes later, post-game hunger finally kicked in. “Y’all, does anyone want to order something besides pizza?” Aubrey yelled.

“I need chocolate milk,” Azzi declared, pulling away from Paige just enough to sit up. “The good kind, from the store.”

KK groaned. “We have three gallons of regular milk. Just add some syrup.”

“No!” Azzi whined, a genuine pout forming on her lips. “It’s not the same. I need real chocolate milk, my muscles demand it.”

“God, it's like I'm babysitting,” Brady teased. “Nobody’s going to the store for chocolate milk at this hour.”

Paige, who had been quiet, suddenly pushed herself up from the couch. She walked over to the small table by the door, where their car keys were tossed.

 Azzi watched her, confused.

Paige picked up a set of keys, jingling them softly.

“Where are you going, P?” KK asked, looking up from her phone.

Paige turned, a faint, almost imperceptible smirk playing on her lips. Her eyes met Azzi’s, a knowing, tender look that made Azzi’s stomach flip “Walmart,” Paige stated simply, her voice calm, utterly serious “Azzi needs her chocolate milk apparently”

The common room erupted.

“WHAT?!” Ice shrieked, nearly falling off her stool. “Paige! You’re going to Walmart for chocolate milk? Right now?”

Aubrey dropped her phone. “No way, the fucking princess treatment.”

“Oh my God, she’s actually going!” Jana burst into a fit of laughter.

Azzi felt her cheeks burn, a deep, undeniable blush that spread all the way to her ears. 

She wanted to disappear, but the panic was completely gone. Paige was driving to Walmart in the middle of the night for her chocolate milk. 

Because Azzi had whined about it.

Paige just shrugged, completely unbothered by the incredulous shouts. 

She glanced at Azzi again, her eyes soft, a silent promise passing between them. “I mean, I worry about her muscle loss,” she said, her voice even. 

She didn’t even bother to deny the “princess treatment” accusation, just turned and walked out, the jingle of her keys fading down the hallway.

Aubrey nodded vigorously. “That’s next-level simping.”

Ice Brady, ever the instigator, leaned closer to Azzi, her eyes sparkling. “So, Azzi. How does it feel to have Paige Bueckers wrapped around your little finger?”

Azzi just grinned, the blush still high on her cheeks. “Pretty good, actually,” she admitted.

About twenty minutes later, Paige walked in, a victorious smirk on her face, holding a small plastic bag containing two small cartons of Azzi’s preferred chocolate milk.

“Mission accomplished” Paige announced, tossing one to Azzi.

“Thanks, P,” Azzi said, already tearing open the carton.

Paige just smiled, a soft smile that reached her eyes, making them crinkle at the corners.

“Anything for you,” Paige murmured, her voice low, just for Azzi, as she settled back onto the couch.

Paige gets a girlfriend (January 30, 2025)

Paige lay in Azzi’s narrow dorm bed, feeling the domesticity press in on her.

The truth was, they were already girlfriends, the pretense had evaporated after the fucking Walmart run. They moved as a unit on campus; they didn’t hide their cuddles in the common room, much less in practice, which led to some flush inducing glances from CD and Geno.

But Paige’s mind was still messy, not with strategy for the game, but with the paralyzing logistics of labels. 

She, Paige Bueckers, the woman who took game-winning shots without a fucking flinching, couldn’t manage to ask a simple question. 

Is this official? Are you my girlfriend? 

The question felt too heavy, and way too real, too threatening to the perfect, brittle image she was obligated to maintain.

They were nestled together, Azzi propped against the headboard, scrolling through her phone, her other hand idly tracing the contours of Paige’s thigh. Azzi was supposed to be studying, but she was entirely preoccupied with Paige's draft.

“Okay, so this is option three,” Azzi murmured, turning the phone screen toward Paige. It was a sleek, black, architecturally daring dress Azzi was looking forward to wearing in Paige’s draft. “It shows a lot of skin.”

“Never too much skin,” Paige dismissed, but she smiled, pulling Azzi closer.

They went back and forth, discussing fabrics and silhouettes, all for the Draft in April. Paige watched Azzi’s profile, the soft curve of her cheek, the total absorption in the task.

Paige felt a sudden, familiar wave of anxiety. Her professional life was about to explode, taking her far from this safe, small dorm room, and she had no idea where Azzi fit into the narrative.

“But, like, are you coming with me to the draft?” Paige asked, trying to sound casual, trying to hide the pounding in her chest.

Azzi looked at her, confused. “What do you mean? Of course, I’m coming”

“No, I mean…” Paige sat up, leaning on her elbow so she could meet Azzi’s eyes. “I mean, are you coming with me? Like, sitting at the table? With my parents.”

Azzi blinked, her impossibly large brown eyes going soft and wide.

“I’m sitting at the table?” Azzi repeated, the words barely a whisper.

That table was sacred ground, reserved for the inner circle, the approved image, the people who would appear in the background of every shot, signaling stability and conventionality. 

Sitting there meant public, official, undeniable association; it meant her conservative family would be forced to acknowledge Azzi’s importance in her life.

Paige looked at Azzi’s face, not the face of a terrifying career risk, but the face of the girl who knew every ugly truth about Paige's competitive nature and still loved her anyway.

A decisive crack formed in Paige’s facade. 

She laughed, “Yes, you're sitting at the table,” Paige said, shoving Azzi playfully. “If you don’t want to be there, it’s fine, but I want you to be there. More than anyone, really.”

“I want to be there,” Azzi rushed out, her dark eyes shining. “I want to be there.”

Azzi’s smile grew, her dimple flashing.

Paige suddenly felt dumb, pathetically dumb. 

She was a professional athlete, a risk-taker, why was she so terrified of uttering two small words? She had prioritized the perception of perfection over the reality of her happiness. 

She reached out and took Azzi’s hand, lacing their fingers together. Her voice, when it came out, was rough with the effort of breaking her own rules.

“Hey,” Paige started, her gaze locked on their joined hands. “I want to be your girlfriend. I don’t know why I’m taking so fucking long to say this, but I want to be your girlfriend.”

Azzi interrupted her, a soft, breathless sound escaping her lips. “Are you asking me to be your girlfriend?”

Paige looked up, meeting her gaze, feeling the familiar, necessary surge of strength that only Azzi seemed to summon. “You know what? Yes, I am. I’m tired of not being direct.”

They laughed together, the sound light and relieved.

Azzi leaned her head back against the wall, her expression shifting to grounded concern. “Yeah. I don’t know how we would do this,” Azzi said, her voice dropping, “I mean, you’re going into the league. We can keep it secret from the public. But… are your parents going to know about this? Are you coming out?”

The familiar fears (the career, the parents, the public image) slammed into Paige, but then she looked at Azzi’s face, at the small crease of worry, and she realized the answer was simple.

“I don’t know,” Paige confessed, shaking her head. “But we are not a couple for the sake of other people, we are a couple for the sake of the two of us. I want you as my girlfriend, and whether my parents see you at that table, or whether the public acknowledges it, doesn’t matter to the reality of us.”

Azzi’s worry eased, replaced by a smile, the kind that made her impossibly large eyes narrow.

“Yeah,” Azzi agreed, her voice firm. “I think we can figure out the rest later”

Paige realized, with stunning clarity, that maybe for the first time, this didn’t have to be as complicated as it seemed. She had finally stopped framing their relationship in relation to the outside world, her parents, the press, the league.

She loved Azzi for Azzi, and in that tiny, cluttered college dorm room, they were girlfriends.

Paige leaned in and kissed her, then she pulled back and looked at Azzi, the realization lighting up her face with joy.

“Damn,” Paige whispered, her voice full of awe. “I have a girlfriend.”

Azzi grinned, dimples showing “Yeah. You do.”