plot synopsis reminder: wings!paige x singer!azzi. azzi's album went viral when people realized the songs were about paige. they fought & decided to be Friends. that did not work. will they or won't they literally nobody knows including them
other: there is a . lot of nsfw in this chapter AND it is an emotional rollercoaster thank u for bearing with me while i took my sweet time writing it.
it was mid-december. the new york wind was tinged with hatred, and azzi’s skin was sinking into itself. she had just wrapped up preparations for her upcoming tour, and the interviews and shoots that had consumed so much of her life when she’d blown up half a year ago had dwindled down to something finally manageable.
it had never gotten easier, the fame part. she tried to stay offline, but it was disconcerting to try to make one trip to a restaurant and end up with her face plastered over twitter the next day.
azzi fudd with mystery girl (it was mackenzie), azzi fudd appears distraught leaving the airport (she was tired and people kept asking her for pictures), azzi fudd debuts new hair style ahead of tour (well, yeah).
azzi felt detached from the images they showed of her, like it was someone else’s life. the only parts of it that felt real to her were when she sat down to write music and when she sang. she wondered if that would ever change.
if she were on social media more, she was sure that she’d be miserable. staying off it allowed her to be blissfully, if not a bit ignorantly, unaware of what people were saying about her.
she’d given a few magazines a day-in-the-life preparing for tour, and she’d made some dumb tiktok trends to promote it; however, more important was the month of time off she had starting tomorrow. she didn’t really know how to spend it– she was planning on taking mackenzie on a two-person vacation to somewhere tropical at some point, but other than that she’d probably stick around the city, try out new food places, and post the pre-recorded tiktoks.
as far as her career, she’d been invited to a few upcoming parties, her name on a couple industry lists, but she was known to stick to herself. she’d been working on befriending a few other up-and-coming indie women, sonia and rori– maybe she’d invite them to dinner or something if they were in the area. her dms were filled with messages from celebrities she didn’t know existed; that had been fun to tell paige about.
it was difficult to navigate new york city alone without getting recognized, so today she’d ordered in pho from a place down the street after a vocal lesson. she wasn’t supposed to talk too much in preparation for the tour, so she had paige on the phone in the background while paige lifted weights and she watched the pitt. samira was so ungodly fine.
“you’d think that dallas would understand air conditioning,” paige grumbled. azzi blinked her way back into consciousness, noticing paige’s sweat-soaked forehead making an entrance in the corner of the facetime screen.
“work out somewhere else,” azzi suggested helpfully.
paige shushed her. “you’re on vocal rest. this is the paige show.”
“i–”
“i read one of your interviews recently,” paige interrupted her.
azzi’s face heated up. paige, who saw more of azzi than anyone, still went above and beyond to keep up with her.
“you were talking about wanting to go on vacation, and– if you don’t have anything to do before i go to miami, i–” paige cut herself off. azzi stared at the image of her on her phone, eyes wide.
“i was thinkin’, i’ve been to your place so much but you’ve never been to mine. do you want to, maybe, come down and visit for a few days? i can take you to my favorite food places, and there’s some good live music bars, and we can go see a movie or help at a soup kitchen or– i dunno, i’ve just been thinking about it and it’s not like vacation but i’m gonna be in miami for a while and we might not have the chance to see each other, so– i– yeah.” she clammed up. the phone camera had drifted so that only the tip of her head was visible, and she seemed to notice and jerked it back to her full face. her cheeks were pink.
azzi’s skin buzzed. her heart pumped warm blood around her chest. paige was inviting her into her house. in arlington.
azzi thought about it frequently. ardently. walking into paige’s home, being let into paige’s space. would it feel normal? would it make azzi feel even worse, that this was the place that could have been azzi’s too?
did she decorate it with her favorite colors, did she stock the fridge with takeout or ingredients, did she get better at vacuuming the kitchen? azzi wanted to know all the little things that she’d missed out on. and she kind of wanted paige to fuck her in paige’s own bed. for no reason.
she didn’t think paige would really ask her to make that trip. she should be elated, should be jumping for joy. it was interesting, she thought, that it only made her ache more.
azzi wanted to kiss her so badly that her jaw twitched. she wanted paige to climb through her screen so she could press their foreheads together, squeeze her hand, do something. her face felt like a sheet of parchment paper stretched too thin as she attempted a smile. “sounds great.”
paige shushed her again, and azzi was so fond that she felt sick. “text me.”
azzi let her fingers open their text thread. sounds great.
“a period? what the hell,” paige complained.
sounds great
“it’s like you don’t even care,” paige sighed, “no regard for my feelings. no emoji or nothing.”
azzi rolled her eyes. can’t wait! :) :) :)
when??
“i leave for miami in a week,” paige said. “you free like saturday to monday?”
the only plans that azzi had were vocal exercises that she could do from anywhere and a gym sesh. yeah :)
“okay, i’ll look into flights, and we’ll see when a good time is for me to pick you up from the airport–”
i can do it myself!
“yeah, but where’s the fun in that?” paige shrugged. “it’s the least i could do, ‘cause you gotta make your way all the way down here.”
you’re literally hosting me at your house?
“you’re acting like that’s hard. you’ve had me at your house. frequently. unless you forgot that time on the couch, or the time on the counter, or in the shower when you got your foot up on the high tile, or the time i found out you have a vibrating strap-on, or–”
ENOUGH, azzi’s face flamed red. good god, did she remember. YOU’RE IN PUBLIC?
“the time when you made us ride the elevator up and down like three times because you were grinding on my thigh–”
I GET IT. SHUT UP.
paige snorted. “don’t worry, baby, there’s nobody else in the gym.”
azzi rolled her eyes, feeling her cheeks in a futile attempt to cover up the flush. still.
“i’ll send you a couple options, and you can approve the final date and time, okay? compromise,” paige grinned, easy.
still sounds like you’re doing all the work…
“consider it a welcome present. or a thank-you for all the times at your house. hell, consider it a late birthday present.”
you already got me a birthday present. multiple
paige had gifted her a full body massage after a tour rehearsal, a percussive keyboard, a hot pot date, flowers, and blackout curtains for her apartment. for paige’s birthday, azzi had gotten her a new pair of shoes, an immersive leg massager, a gold chain bracelet, and a month’s worth of groceries via online delivery.
it was nice to have money, to not have to think twice about buying something just because she wanted it. it was something that azzi was still adjusting to. azzi used to get embarrassed on paige’s birthday, knowing that paige had so much money from her nil deals that anything azzi could buy her would pale in comparison to what paige could buy for herself, or could give her in return.
once azzi had broken off contact with her family, she’d had practically nothing. she went to college on scholarship and had just finished paying off her debts with her streaming money and brand deals. she’d only had money for less than a year, and she didn’t trust it; if she overshot, if she invested too much, if she used it on something stupid and then fell out of the public eye, she was done for. the life of a musician was not nearly stable enough to have faith that it would last. but it was still nice.
of course, paige never minded, but azzi felt an odd sense of pride in finally being able to take care of paige the way that she’d always felt taken care of. not that it mattered. paige seemed determined to make her feel like no matter how much money she had, she was still paige’s to tend to.
“yeah, but that don’t matter,” paige shrugged, “you being born should be celebrated frequently, if you ask me.”
azzi rolled her eyes, but a smile split her lips. she was getting used to paige flirting with her.
you taking showers should be celebrated frequently
“you tryna tell me something?” paige pouted, wiping sweat from her brow. azzi shrugged. “fine, whatever. i’ll head to the gym shower. enjoy your pho and,” she waggled her eyebrows, “the pitt.”
paige thought the pitt sounded like an innuendo. you may as well name it ‘the hole’.
will do. enjoy your shower 🙄
“no ‘without me’? no ‘don’t have too much fun’?” paige complained. “you suck at this.”
ah fuck my vocal rest
i can’t talk anymore gotta go
azzi stuck her tongue out at the screen and watched paige’s eyebrows raise and her jaw fall open in her silly amused-offended face. she hung up, shaking her head.
arlington. soon. she needed to talk to paige about her family. she’d do it there, in person. she took a deep breath.
—-
azzi stood outside of a small, unassuming house in the arlington suburbs. the exterior was half brick, half white vinyl, with a smattering of windows and lawn that was a hair overgrown. a small concrete porch lifted up to the left of the doorway, and a flowerbed that held only some bushes at this point in the year sat to the left.
196. that was the house number. azzi checked the number that paige had texted her one more time, cross-referencing it with the number on the mailbox. 196.
something that azzi couldn’t put her finger on felt off. the house was too plain, too straightforward. paige had been living here for just about two years, but the house was homely and stiff.
she examined the windows, the door, the lawn for any hints of personality– like a purple doormat, or a cardboard cutout of kobe in the window or– azzi didn’t really know. some other bullshit. something paige. but there was nothing.
maybe it was just house regulations. if this was one of those southern white people neighborhoods, who knew what crap they came up with to keep the selling value high. but azzi still felt wrong about it. she didn’t know why, she just had this feeling, like she’d just know paige’s house when she set eyes on it.
she didn’t. she crosschecked the number one more time, to be certain. 196.
she exhaled so deeply into the mask she used to cover her face that she fogged up her glasses. literally whatever. she took the mask off now that she was alone. the uber had left her on the street, so she’d best be moving as soon as the moisture–
the door swung open. azzi rushed to take off her glasses before paige saw her looking like professor frink from the simpsons.
paige didn’t seem fazed, leaning comfortably against the doorway in a way that felt lived-in. a strange feeling gnawed at the pit of azzi’s stomach, nerves and discomfort and something else that she refused to label as jealousy.
what could she be jealous of? that paige had a house? that it’s not what she expected? that paige was comfortable in this odd home? that paige had a place where she felt comfortable so far away from azzi?
she shook off her nerves and tugged her suitcase up the driveway and to the front door. she moved to bring her bag up into the house, but paige’s hand caught her wrists and forced her to drop it. azzi let out a muffled sound of surprise as paige lifted her arms above her head and spun her so that her back was now against the doorframe, sweetly connecting their lips.
azzi’s tension melted away at the touch. no, things felt right. it was paige. wherever paige was, it was correct.
paige pulled away with a grin and muttered a corny hello, beautiful that had azzi shaking her off and rolling her eyes. before she could lift her bag, paige took it upon herself to bring it in, so she slipped her shoes off and looked around the inside of the house.
“you look good, az. haven’t seen you in warm weather clothes in a while.” paige’s voice sounded tight. she wound her arms around azzi from the back.
azzi was too distracted looking at the interior of the house to answer. it was– it was boring. the walls were largely blank, with a few standard paintings that had probably hung around the house for a couple decades before paige got there. the foyer opened up into a living room space on the left and an open kitchen plan on the right, with a small island and a white tile floor.
paige had a few bits of fruit hanging about the kichen, and everything seemed recently cleaned, but azzi was used to seeing some crumbs and some athlete-protein junk sitting around like paige’s college dorm. her fridge was even free from magnets. it was weird.
paige pressed a kiss to the side of her neck, right above the collar of her t-shirt. “want a house tour?”
azzi snapped back into reality. “do you want the house tour?” she sang, a smile lilting up her lips. she pulled out of paige’s grip, half to start the tour, half to see the look on paige’s face while she sang. paige always looked at azzi in a certain way when she sang. azzi wanted to see it. “i could take you to the first, second, third floor.”
paige snorted, eyes sparkling. “i’m pleasured to be your hot tour guide.”
she skipped some lines, but that was okay. “so, do you have a guest room, or am i sleeping on the living room couch?” azzi asked, nudging her with her hip.
“hey, we haven’t even gone through the living room yet,” paige complained, “of course i have a guest room. what kind of host would i be?”
“you’ve slept on my couch. trying to make me out like a bad host?”
“of course not,” paige smirked, kissing her cheek, “you upgraded me to your bed eventually.”
paige took her around the house, showing her little bits and bobs she’d picked up over time. her room was the most interesting, with general basketball junk and a bunch of pictures stuck to her wall. azzi was in a few of them, some selfies of them eating together from recent months and pictures of azzi with her guitar in her living room.
paige’s clothes and extra shoes filled up the guest room closet, which azzi found endearing. azzi had a feeling that she’d recently straightened up the room, moving things back to her own room. it made her laugh.
the guest room also shared a wall with paige’s room, which was convenient, though azzi had a feeling that she wouldn’t be spending much time in there. regardless, she left her things in there and walked to sit outside on the back porch.
“so, how do you like it?” paige asked, more of a pleasantry than as a genuine question.
azzi paused. “it’s– different.”
“different?” paige laughed. azzi thought she saw a shadow twitch at paige’s mouth, but she wasn’t sure.
“yeah, i guess i’m just– i’m a little surprised. it’s really clean, really arlington, i’m just– i’m surprised it’s not a little more, uh, lived in.”
paige ran her thumbnail across her fingertips. “yeah, y’know i’m- i’m not here too much. i bought this one ‘cause it’s close to the facilities, and it’s small, for one, and…” her voice trailed off.
a familiar guilt settled into azzi’s bones. it’s not paige because paige had been expecting to live with azzi. when azzi had shot her down, she’d probably scrambled to find another place, one that she tried to make work, but it was like tugging your head through the arm hole of a shirt. it wasn’t the right fit.
“i’m still young,” paige joked, “it’s just me here, so…no need to settle in too hard yet.”
right. no need to settle down. azzi’s mouth felt dry. her toes curled unconsciously.
“unless drew moves in, or somethin’, but he’s still way too young.”
azzi forced a laugh. “right. drew.”
azzi felt disoriented, suddenly distant. before she could settle into the feeling, though, paige took her hand and gently drew her back into the house. “c’mere, baby, you haven’t eaten in hours.”
her heart burned in her chest. paige opened the fridge, and azzi was relieved to see that it was an organized chaos, just how she’d expected. she took quick note of a tub of cottage cheese and a bag of dried fruit and swallowed.
“you want a snack, or you want a meal? ‘cause we could do a little lunch now, and then eat a late dinner. there’s this place nearby that does really good asian-mexican fusion, and i’d love to take you there if– well, if you’re comfortable maybe getting recognized,” paige finished, a blush on her cheeks.
“a meal sounds good to me,” azzi said quietly, taking a seat on a stool next to the island. “want to do sandwiches now?”
“yeah, i gotchu,” paige affirmed, pulling out azzi’s favorite ingredients. “and, um, the restaurant later? we could also order in, or do some pasta, or frozen–”
“no, yeah, it sounds great,” azzi interrupted. she didn’t know why she felt so nervous. “i haven’t been out in a– in a while. i miss it.”
paige nodded, putting four slices of bread out on a paper towel. “fans too much? paparazzi? it’s hard to get used to. i hoped that when you blew up it wouldn’t be as bad for you as it was for me.”
“yeah, it’s really scary sometimes. a lot of them are really sweet, but sometimes you don’t really want to get sent instagram posts of you shoving a burger in your mouth. or sweating in pilates.”
paige snorted. “or blowing your nose, or walking into a hooters, or…”
azzi laughed and shook her head. “i hate when they act like they already know you, and they try to joke around but it just comes off mean. and i hate turning them down, but it’s so much to be asked to give yourself to the public at all times, like just by existing you somehow owe people something,” she said quietly.
paige paused her ministrations, listening intently.
“and i also get tired of– of hiding.”
paige swallowed. “yeah.” she didn’t need to say anything else.
azzi cleared her throat. “sometimes i swear they don’t even know me, just my face,” she laughed.
“oh, that’s a classic,” paige smiled, “they’ll probably start confusing you with other black singers soon, too. they do it with me and every blonde to exist in the league, it’s gotta be worse for you.”
“yeah, it makes me nervous,” azzi continued. she didn’t really know why she had so much to say, but being around paige made her feel like all of her thoughts could spill out without judgement. she could probably say i’m thinking about bombing the white house and paige would be like okay and slab some mayonnaise on her bread.
“i’m really worried that the fans who come to my shows won’t know the songs,” she admitted, “like, i’m this stupid tiktok artist or whatever, they put my song in a sad heated rivalry edit but don’t know anything but a couple lines.”
paige set the cheese back down on the table. “azzi.”
“what? it’s happened to so many other artists who have incredible records, it’s just a reality of the post-covid music scene–”
“azzi, you’re forgetting that i’ve seen you live. remember the festival? the crowd fucking loved you, and they weren’t even expecting you! nobody there bought a ticket to see you, and they loved you. it was insane. you went viral. it was literally electric on that festival ground. i have never felt anything like it before in my life,” paige confessed, “and i mean, i’ve seen you sing a million times, and it’s always beautiful to me, but azzi– i was crying. you’re meant to be on a stage. even if the crowd doesn’t know your songs, which by the way, i don’t think is going to happen, it’ll be an incredible fucking performance.”
azzi’s face burned. her lips pursed. “okay.”
“okay?” paige repeated.
“okay,” azzi confirmed quietly, a small smile on her face.
paige nodded, shifting her attention back to the sandwiches. she peeled a wad of cheese off a block of it and started placing it down. azzi watched her work in silence.
yeah, the concert was great, but– paige was paige. paige wasn’t even going to be there. azzi was playing in dallas when paige would be in miami for unrivaled. her tour started in d.c., moved down the east cost, went to the– wait.
she wasn’t playing florida; she wasn’t too much of a performer, so she’d put a lot of time and effort into her sets. the amount it cost to travel with her equipment down the entire state of florida wouldn’t really be made up with the smaller venues she was playing, even though she was doubling up some shows. but she was playing atlanta.
could she ask paige to come? mid-season? travel to atlanta for the day?
she opened safari and typed in breeze unrivaled basketball schedule this year -ai. her tour came to atlanta on the fifteenth, which looked to be right after the one-on-one tournament. hypothetically, if she had practice during the day and no plans, paige could maybe make it to atlanta by eight pm for azzi’s concert.
“hey,” her mouth opened before she could stop it, “i have a show in atlanta on february fifteenth. it’s right after the one-v-ones. do you think you would be able to make it?”
as soon as it came out of her mouth, she regretted it. there were a million things wrong with paige coming to her show– would she be backstage? then she would miss the show….but she couldn’t be in the audience, could she? that would be a disaster.
could azzi ask paige to hide? could she get her vip? would some picture of her recognizable lanky frame and questionable choice in pants make its way around twitter like a rat with the bubonic plague?
and what if paige already had plans? what if something came up right before, or if she had some shoot? this was stupid. she should have asked paige what her schedule looked like before diving in. she was being ridiculous.
paige raised her eyebrows. “one sec,” she said, pulling out her phone. azzi hoped that she was checking her schedule and not texting nika dude azzi asked me to go to her concert should i tell her to kill herself.
a second later, she clicked it off and shoved it back into her pocket, going back to finishing their sandwiches. “i’d love to. i’m free. thanks for offering.”
really? it was that easy for her?
azzi stared at her. “really?”
“really what?” paige asked, snapping her head up. “wait, when do they go on sale?”
on sale. like azzi would ever let her pay. “no, i– i got it. i’ll ask my manager to figure it out.”
“sick, thanks. this is so exciting, az, i’m so proud of you.”
azzi kept staring at her.
“what? why are you looking at me like that?” paige asked, defensive. she tossed azzi her sandwich on a paper towel and wiped her hands free of crumbs.
“i just– you’re okay with being seen at my concert? i mean, i know you can hide your face, or i could give you backstage access, but i don’t know what will get out or what will happen. with unrivaled finals coming up, i’m sure that’s not the kind of publicity that you want, and–”
“azzi,” paige laughed, “they saw me coming into your hotel after we lost the semis. i got papped on facetime with you last fucking week. there’s like four youtube compilations of me trying to swallow myself in clothes in the middle of hot ass september as i walked to your apartment in new york. what is there left to be scared of?”
well, that was a good point. azzi shrugged. she could still think of things– someone always had something else to say. what if she wasn’t dancing or singing along and then someone started a rumor that she hated the concert? what if she couldn’t make it back in time for practice the next day? what if she got stuck in traffic and missed the whole thing?
“paige bueckers seen at an azzi fudd concert. fork found in fucking kitchen,” paige shrugged, “honestly, i was going to go even if you didn’t ask me. you think i’d miss out on your first tour? after all the work i’ve been seeing you put in?”
oh. well. that was.
azzi took a bite of her sandwich. “and you’re, like– you’re sure you’re okay with it?” she double checked. sue her.
for the millionth time, she wished that her words came as naturally to her in conversation as they did when she was writing. she should have brought her guitar, honestly, tried to see if having a conversation while strumming e minor made her more loquacious.
“azzi,” paige said quietly, setting down her own sandwich. she moved to where azzi stood and put her hands on her hips, holding her steady. azzi’s chest felt thready, and she inhaled deeply. her body relaxed at the touch, just like it always fucking did. one would think she could have a little more self-preservation.
“i know things have been really weird, and it’s been difficult. and i know it’s scary to put ourselves in the face of judgement. but when it comes to something like this, i–” her grip tightened on azzi’s waist, “i really don’t care. i want to see you. i don’t care what anyone else thinks about it.”
azzi’s heart swelled. she fought to maintain eye contact with paige instead of looking away like she desperately wanted to, and she forced herself to nod slowly, deliberately. “okay.”
“okay?” paige confirmed.
“okay,” azzi promised.
“good,” paige mumbled, leaning in slowly. when she kissed azzi, she felt boneless.
it was so nice to not be fighting with paige. it was such a privilege to be able to be here, in her house, on her island, eating with her and kissing her and talking about things. as paige’s tongue parted her lips, a sweet, content sound escaped the back of azzi’s throat. she set her sandwich aside.
paige smirked into her mouth. azzi felt her start to shift, slightly, but was so focused on kissing her that she gasped and dug her hands into paige’s shoulders as paige lifted her up onto the counter.
and– jesus, paige was kissing her firmer, hands running up and down the length of azzi’s thighs. her thumbs dipped into the soft skin of her adductors, and azzi knew she was melting under the touch because she could feel the wetness forming beneath her.
damn, already? they were only making out, but the mere act of being in paige’s house, with paige’s scent around her and paige’s hands on her, made every point of contact that much more sensitive.
paige gently spread her legs apart to step into them a little more, and azzi found herself leaning backwards slightly. paige didn’t let her, moving her arms up to her back and keeping her upright, and azzi felt like there wasn’t a part of her that didn’t bend to paige’s will.
azzi felt surrounded by her, consumed by her. everything about their former conversation was forgotten, and her heart felt like it was being pulled taut, loose threads tugging and yearning and begging at the barrier of her skin to escape and find paige. she yearned for her.
azzi found herself nipping at paige’s lip, chasing it with a hard kiss. she exercised her feelings through action, pouring herself out into paige. paige responded with an affected, throaty sound, and a thrill shot through azzi’s gut. i love you, she wanted to say, i want you all of the time.
paige kissed her back like she understood, though azzi knew she didn’t. the blonde’s hands roamed across her torso, one finding the back of her neck and up into her hair and the other settling possessively on the front of her throat. azzi tugged her in closer by the waist, vividly aware of the slow, hot drip between her legs.
if paige didn’t get her off, she’d need to excuse herself to the bathroom. azzi let her own hands roam around paige’s waist, rotating between running up to the line of her sports bra and running across her waistband. her brain felt like mush, though, and she was only half-aware of her own movements.
she was rewarded with paige’s irregular breath, and she felt weak at the thought of paige being just as affected as she was. the hand on her throat tightened almost imperceptibly, and azzi’s eyes fluttered back in her head.
paige kept kissing her like it was the only thing she’d been waiting for the whole time they’d been apart, long and deep and hungry, lips and tongue and head moving reverently, repeatedly, in worship.
“paige,” azzi managed to whisper between breaths, quiet and strained. she wanted it. she knew paige wanted it. paige knew she wanted it.
it wasn’t all that hot in arlington in december, but azzi felt heat beading on her hairline, back, inner thighs. the feel of paige’s hand resting on her neck was unimaginably warm, and it made her head spin knowing that the act of possession no longer felt wrong.
the hand slid down, however, dragging nails over the thin cotton of her t-shirt and beginning to dance around her chest.
azzi dropped her head back as much as she could, lips parting in a low groan. squeeze, she thought. she needed more.
paige, however, seemed committed to dragging this out. her fingers skipped around her chest, alternating touches and drags of her nails, intermittently running across azzi’s nipple. the hint of stimulation made azzi’s breath stick in her throat. more, she wanted to yell, but didn’t want to give paige the satisfaction.
paige rucked up her shirt, finally, and tilted azzi’s head back to her lips. hell of a distraction, azzi thought, as paige’s hand snuck around the back of her shirt and unclasped her bra. she didn’t bother taking it off, just moved her other hand down to slowly grope underneath the loose fabric.
a deep sound escaped azzi’s lips from somewhere guttural within her. harder, she wanted, more.
paige kept the touches gentle but sure, thumbing over her nipples as she kissed azzi soundly. christ. azzi’s back arched into the touch, screaming touch me, touch me. she couldn’t stand to sit and be caressed like something gentle; the love within her was consuming and she wanted to be consumed. her heart pumped hot blood through her core, hungry and wanting.
paige ignored her body’s actions. it was torturously slow, the soft squeezes and brushes of her hands. fuck.
“paige,” azzi said again.
“mmm?” paige hummed in return, breaking apart their lips and mouthing down azzi’s jaw to her neck.
the way paige’s lips felt at the base of her neck was fucking heavenly, and the words were caught in azzi’s throat. she didn’t want to ask for it. still, she swallowed thickly and forced it out. “more,” she whispered, so faint that she wasn’t sure if paige picked it up.
paige breathed a laugh into her neck, flattening her tongue against azzi’s skin before sucking a small mark in. “no.”
no? azzi let out a small, tortured sound. fine, she’d have to play dirty. if there’s one thing she was good at, it was using her voice.
“paige,” she moaned, high and sweet and breathy. the sound of it brought warmth to her cheeks, embarrassed at how needy and affected she sounded. “more.”
paige’s forehead dropped to her shoulder and she inhaled sharply, and azzi felt victorious. for a fraction of a second, her grip on azzi’s chest tightened, and azzi moaned aloud. then, she took her hands away altogether and pulled herself back up, capturing azzi’s lips in a kiss again.
azzi was going to murder her.
“fucking tease,” she growled, nipping at paige’s lip. paige’s breath hitched.
“on the counter? really?” paige murmured. “i can’t fuck you here before the bed.”
azzi was inclined to agree. she’d imagined their first time in paige’s house to be slow and romantic, a few hours of grinding and making out in paige’s bed and a couple rounds of coming. also, her ass kind of hurt. “or you could just fuck me in both places.”
who said that? azzi had not planned to say that.
paige let out a tortured breath from her nose. “most beautiful girl in the world in front of me, and she wants me to fuck her where i just made her a sandwich.”
“bet i’ll taste better.” really, who was controlling azzi’s mouth? paige, luckily, forced her to stop talking by capturing her lips in another quick kiss. she dropped down to her jaw, her neck, finally squeezing azzi’s chest more roughly.
“if you want it so bad,” paige nipped at her carotid, and azzi’s breath hitched, “you’re gonna have to fucking prove it.”
the air left azzi’s lungs. “yeah,” she breathed.
“yeah?” paige confirmed. her tone had adopted an edge to it that made azzi’s cunt pulse, hot and embarrassing.
“yeah,” azzi repeated, like it was the only word she knew.
paige slid her hand back up to azzi’s throat, still cocooned beneath her t-shirt, and squeezed gently. “how’s this?”
azzi felt lightheaded. “lower,” she whispered. she didn’t concern herself with the way her voice sounded.
paige dragged her hand down to azzi’s collarbone. “here?”
azzi shook her head. paige’s eyes glinted. the blonde moved down again, cupping azzi’s chest over her bra. “here?” she repeated.
azzi shook her head, and paige slipped her fingers below the bra again to press into her nipple. she circled it gently, squeezing as she kissed azzi again. her broad palm spanned the width of azzi’s breast again, playing along the skin and pushing and pulling azzi’s mind in circles.
jesus christ. it felt good, too good, but azzi felt like she was going to explode. she wondered if her shorts were growing damp, and desperately shook her head again into paige’s mouth. paige smiled into the kiss, shit-eating.
after one last squeeze, paige moved down to her ribs, the toned expanse of her stomach.
“here?” she said again, fingers massaging the skin in dangerous circles. they dipped down to her waistband, skimming under it for a moment before coming back up.
“lower,” azzi choked out again.
paige’s fingers finally, finally dipped below azzi’s waistband. azzi’s head tipped back in relief, column of her neck tilting out for paige to kiss at.
“here?” paige asked. azzi was going to kill her. paige clawed at her, soft, nails trailing over the soft skin of her pelvis. a wave of pleasure undulated from the stimulation, more intense than it should have been, and azzi jerked. her core felt fully liquidated, hot and full and aching.
an animalistic sound ripped from azzi’s throat. “more,” she breathed. it was the only word she could force out.
“hmm?” paige hummed. azzi’s hands found paige’s shoulders, and she pressed down, pleading lower, lower.
“i like it when pretty girls use their words,” paige murmured, voice low.
“more,” azzi pleaded, unthinking.
“more what?”
“down.”
“well, why didn’t you just say so?” paige grinned. paige bueckers found dead in her arlington home, azzi imagined the headline.
paige withdrew her hand from azzi’s waistband, instead sliding it up the leg of her shorts to massage her inner thigh. azzi was going to scream. so fucking close. it was so. fucking. close.
she let out a strangled sound, head falling forward and onto paige’s shoulder. she couldn’t take this anymore. her pride wouldn’t let her be direct, to ask paige to fuck her like a slut over the counter, but she could try to play to paige’s weaknesses again.
she swallowed, heavy. “paige,” she sighed into the older woman’s ear, “don’t you want to?” she put extra breath in her voice, a gentle whine. she let her head lean against paige’s neck.
“come on, baby,” she breathed, needy, “don’t you want to make me feel good?”
paige’s pulse jackrabbited, azzi could feel it. success. an excited thrill shot through her, anticipation and nervousness.
the blonde’s fingers twitched towards her cunt. then, like she was trying to make a fist, she squeezed azzi’s inner thigh and azzi choked. her free hand came up to tilt azzi’s jaw up to look at her, commanding.
“what i want,” she started, low, “is for you to beg me for it.”
azzi exhaled wildly, frustrated. she was torn. the ache between her legs was almost unbearable.
“what i want,” paige continued in a whisper, a façade of gentleness, “is for you to ask for what you want like the whore that you are.”
azzi’s cunt throbbed.
“can you do that?”
azzi swallowed. nodded. she could do that. paige parted her lips with her thumb, pulling her lower lip out and letting it bounce back into place. not one part of azzi wasn’t paige’s.
“go ahead,” paige encouraged, slow. she looked straight at azzi’s lips, eyes hooded and dark.
“i..” azzi started in a whisper. “i want you.”
“want me to what, pretty?”
“i want you to fuck me.”
“that’s it,” paige purred, “so good f’me. again.” her fingers edged closer to the line of azzi’s underwear.
azzi knew her face was pink and awful, breathing labored and eyes half closed. “i want… you to fuck me.”
paige hovered over her clit, tapping it once over the fabric. azzi’s entire body jolted. “ask.”
“please,” she sighed, “please fuck me.”
“that’s it, perfect,” paige complimented, kissing her softly on the lips. she ran her fingers down the length of azzi’s cunt, lingering where her dripping hole soaked the fabric and pressing in slightly. azzi tightened her grip on paige’s shoulders.
jesus fucking christ, jesus god. azzi felt like she’d cum if paige looked at her wrong. she needed it. she needed it so fucking bad. paige was free to take her apart and put her back together in any way she wanted, legs askew and head on sideways, if she would just keep touching her.
she’d imagined getting fucked in paige’s house so many times, the same way she’d imagined the interior of the house and imagined how paige would act and everything was so different that it didn’t fucking matter and everything was perfect in its own stupid fucking way and–
she loved her. she trusted her. so much so that–
“again,” paige ordered.
“please fuck me.”
“again.”
“please fuck me.”
“fuck you like a what.”
“like a slut,” azzi gasped, cunt throbbing, “fuck me like a slut, paige, please.”
“yeah?” paige challenged, slipping her hand into azzi’s dripping cunt, starting an immediate circle on her clit. “you want me to fuck you like a slut? right here on the kitchen counter?”
azzi couldn’t speak, it felt so good. she felt like her body was short-circuiting, sparks flying from where paige was touching her.
“answer me,” paige demanded, slapping her lightly. azzi fought to keep her thighs open as her breath grew rapid.
“yeah,” she breathed, and it seemed to be good enough for paige, who looked unbearably hot in her stupid loungewear as she laid claim to azzi’s body.
“you wanna cum all over it? lay your mark all over my fucking house?”
azzi moaned aloud as paige pressed into her clit firmer, faster. “yeah, yeah.”
the idea of christening paige’s house with herself, making hers the place that paige hadn’t even quite made paige’s, was ridiculously hot. she suddenly wanted to cum all over it, all over paige, as if that would have the same effect.
“so easy,” paige muttered, “so fucking close to the edge already.”
and– yeah, azzi was fucking close to the edge. paige was fucking fingering her under her shorts and underwear, the bulge of her hand moving a fucking pornographic sight, and azzi was close to coming in her pants like a goddamned teenager.
i love you, she wanted to say. instead, she bit her cheek and hoped she’d break skin.
“azzi,” paige sighed, kissing her deeply. azzi would kill to stay in her mouth. she let her eyes shut and still saw paige in the closed lids. her teeth ached with how badly she wanted her.
azzi’s core trembled, trying not to buck her hips, trying to keep herself up.
paige pulled her face back, keeping her rhythm steady. azzi felt it building in her gut, boiling hot.
she wanted– she was going to–
she couldn’t believe paige was letting her cum so easily, no pulling away or teasing, and a hot wash of arousal tugged through her gut like a drain. paige must really want to see it, she realized. she felt slightly victorious that her begging had accomplished something eventually.
“so perfect,” paige whispered, adding a touch more pressure. at the words, azzi sighed in pleasure. it was coming much faster than she anticipated, dangerously close to the edge.
“can i–” she choked out.
paige grinned wickedly. “not yet.”
another frustrated sound came up from azzi’s throat. being denied almost sent her over the edge; her hips twitched away from paige’s finger to try to relieve the pressure. “i’m gonna–”
“not yet, princess,” paige repeated, not slowing down. “stay still and take it for me. you can do that, right? my good girl?”
her– fuck, azzi teared up with the effort of not coming. she didn’t think her body was going to listen, she didn’t want to disappoint paige by coming, she needed it so fucking badly she thought she was going to explode.
paige hummed. “don’t cry, baby. you’re doing so well, right?”
azzi mumbled something that sounded like mmmmrggfh. paige took her fingers away and used them to slap lightly against her clit, slipping them down to azzi’s entrance and back. azzi mumbled something that sounded like MMMMGGFH.
“use your words, pretty. you’re doing so good, yeah? tell me how good you’re doing for me.”
paige’s ministrations resumed, and jesus fucking christ this was it, azzi had to prove that she could cum because it was going to happen either way. she had to be good for paige. “i’m doing so good for you.”
“fuck,” paige muttered, half-lidded eyes boring into azzi’s own blown-out pupils.
“please,” azzi begged, “please, i’m so good for you, please let me cum, please.”
paige visibly shuddered, and the sight sent azzi over the edge as paige muttered, “yeah, baby, fucking cum for me. fucking cum all over fingers.”
azzi’s hips canted up like she’d been shocked, head falling back and mouth opening with an ungodly sound. it tore through her like a freight train, hard and fast as her fingers squeezed the shit out of paige’s shoulders and paige worked her through the apex of the crescendo.
“ah, fuck, paige, yeah,” azzi sighed, high and throaty, as she rode out the aftershocks.
paige hummed. “that’s it, baby. so good f’me.”
azzi’s shoulders relaxed and her body felt boneless. the orgasm had swept through her whole body, leaving her light and buzzy. she caught her breath slowly, paige’s fingers slowing down and finally coming to a stop.
“perfect,” paige muttered, kissing her forehead.
it was fucking insane, the way paige could make her come. nothing was like it. stupid fucking bitch.
paige moved her hand to azzi’s side, rubbing slow circles into the skin of her waist. “good?”
azzi nodded her head, loose. of course it was good. it was phenomenal. she’d just cum on the fucking kitchen counter, clothes still on. her core still twitched with the aftershocks.
it made something burn in her chest that paige never stopped reassuring her, making sure that she was always enjoying herself. she wanted to kiss her face off.
so she did. she took paige’s face in her hands and leaned forward, pressing her lips against paige’s, firm and chaste and trusting.
paige softened under her touch.
azzi’s brain surged. she wanted to ruin her, melt her down into nothing but liquid. she wanted to see paige bueckers weak, to know the power she had over her. she kissed her harder, slipping her tongue into paige’s mouth.
paige didn’t match her energy, kissing back slow and languid to gently rock azzi back down. that was sweet and all, but azzi knew that she was much more riled up than she let on. it showed in the feverish warmth of her tongue, in the way her fingers stuttered in their rhythm on azzi’s waist.
she gently caught paige’s lower lip between her teeth for a moment, and paige’s breath caught in her throat. she seemed to fight a mental war with herself before pulling away; she sighed before renewing her efforts to calm azzi down, hands steadying and meeting azzi’s lips softer, gentler.
azzi couldn’t stand it. she needed paige to feel good.
she slid her palms to paige’s chest, squeezing. paige quietly sighed into her mouth, trying to subtly shake her head.
“how do you–” paige muttered, “so fast.”
“how do i what?”
paige kissed her cheek. “come down.”
“who said i came down?” sure, azzi had relaxed, but she still felt like she was in heat. she just had a different focus.
paige inhaled sharply. “you want more?”
azzi pretended to think. she moved her arms around paige’s neck, playing with the baby hairs at her nape. she leaned in close to paige’s ear.
she could hear paige’s erratic breathing, feel the heat radiating from her neck and chest. she was fucking gorgeous, all riled up, and azzi felt crazy. she dropped her voice to a whisper.
“the strap is in the outside pocket of my suitcase.”
paige’s head snapped toward her, pupils blown out. “azzi,” she whispered, hoarse, like it had been punched out of her.
azzi couldn’t help it. she grinned. she slipped out of paige’s grasp and off of the counter, tugging her shirt and unclasped bra off of her head and letting them fall to the floor.
she took a few steps before turning and shrugging. paige stood rooted to the spot, pink-cheeked and staring at azzi like she’d just been struck by lightning.
“your bed?” azzi asked, jovial. before waiting for a response, she turned the corner into the hallway and walked towards paige’s room. making sure that paige wasn’t following, she drew off her shorts and left them in the hallway, then left her underwear at the entrance of the doorway.
the air conditioning blew against her warm skin, against the damp between her legs, and she shivered as she sat down on the bed. she heard the sound of a zipper and shivered in excitement, her nipples hardening exposed to the air. she was still so turned on it was a fucking sin, waiting for paige to come and fuck her again.
paige was pulling out the strap. azzi knew she would. it always released something animalistic in her, getting to bend azzi over and fuck her three ways into the next week. something about seeing paige completely losing herself inside of her, drunk off the feeling, riled up azzi to no extent.
fuck, would paige put it on out there, or would she bring it inside and let azzi put it on herself, like she loved to? how would she react seeing that azzi had brought the vibrating one? god, azzi wished that she could see paige’s face.
azzi situated herself at the edge of the bed, biting her lip. even though she’d just come, her stomach churned at the prospect of paige coming in. she regretted leaving her side for a moment, she should have–
she closed her eyes and took a deep breath, letting herself settle into the soft down of the comforter. she’d fingered herself the night before, more to prepare than to cum, and she slipped a finger right into herself with no resistance and began to pump it in and out.
she added a second and began to scissor gently, stretching herself out a bit more. she let her fingertips find what was soft and slick inside of her, moaning softly at the feeling. selfishly, she let herself find a rhythm, the wet sound of it filthy and hot.
when she opened her eyes, paige was standing in the doorway. the harness, vibrating dildo already strapped in, clit massager on the other end, dangled off of a finger on her left hand; on her right, azzi’s underwear. she cocked an eyebrow, looking half stunned at azzi’s audacity and half like she was going to eat azzi alive.
azzi burned. she lifted a hand and beckoned paige in.
“jesus christ,” paige muttered, like she’d lost all ability to say anything else. as soon as she came within reach, azzi yanked the panties from her hand and tossed them to the floor. paige threw the strap on the side of the bed, pushing azzi onto her back and crawling on top of her with fervor.
she kissed her hard and passionate and wet, lips slightly cold from their time apart, and azzi keened. she tugged at the hem of paige’s shirt, lifting it up, and paige broke the kiss to tear it off.
paige slotted a knee between azzi’s thighs, pressing down, and her eyes fluttered back in her head. to counter, she lifted her leg that was between paige’s, pressing up. it was damp where her thigh met the fabric, and she felt ravenous.
she let them make out and grind for a few minutes before deciding it was unbearable. she reached for paige’s waistband, tugging at it lightly. off, she thought, off.
paige slipped off her shorts, leaving her in only her boxers. the sight, as always, sent a fresh wave of molten heat through azzi’s core. she felt herself leak a little onto paige’s thigh, who muttered a fuck into the side of azzi’s neck.
paige bent to her chest, closing her lips over azzi’s nipple. azzi’s back arched; christ, she knew paige could stay there all day. paige looked wrecked, sucking on it while her tongue flicked over the nub, other hand pinching the free nipple, hair mussed up and face flushed.
azzi mewled. it felt so fucking good.
paige squeezed, nipping lightly around her chest and leaving marks. the attention on both breasts was too much yet not enough; her cunt pulsed with want of something more, inside. paige was a mess just from this, from worshipping azzi’s chest, from making her cum on the counter and drinking in her bare skin in her bed. azzi needed her ruined.
paige’s head dipped, and her tongue ran a long, languid line from azzi’s navel to the hollow of her throat. one of her hands dropped to steady herself while the other squeezed the fat of azzi’s hips, mouth pressing to her neck and taking the time to suck in an even larger mark.
paige’s.
“paige,” she choked out, “i…”
paige’s head snapped back, looking at her wildly, expectantly. a little scared.
azzi swallowed. “i want…” she started. she shook her head, pushing paige off of her slightly and rolling onto her side, tugging paige down to the bed and climbing over her instead.
she couldn’t say it then. she couldn’t. but she could bury her face in paige’s cunt and make her cum all over her face, taste her and have her and adore her in ways that were allowed.
she began her descent to the apex of paige’s thighs, lips falling apart in anticipation. she was too strung-out for foreplay to even cross her mind, single-focused on getting her mouth on paige.
paige realized what she was doing as she neared her pelvis, catching her jaw in her hand and shaking her head.
no? azzi was confused. paige should want it. why didn’t paige want it?
“baby,” paige whispered, “i want to cum inside you.”
azzi exhaled sharply. her mind was numb. she was torn, she wanted paige to cum inside her, too, but she wanted to eat her out. she tried to explain, but her mouth refused to work. she blinked hopelessly up at paige and hoped that she would understand.
“baby,” paige repeated. azzi could see her chest twitch with how hard her heart was beating. “i….you want this?”
azzi nodded.
“you okay?”
a whimper escaped azzi’s throat. her stomach flipped violently. she wanted. all she was was want. she nodded again.
“okay,” paige said gently, stroking her cheek. she hesitated a moment, then rested her thumb on azzi’s lips. azzi didn’t think before enveloping it in her mouth. a deep breath left paige, and she softly removed her finger, dragging it out and onto azzi’s cheek again. “just for a bit. i’m going to stop you before i cum, okay?”
her words only half registered to azzi, who had blacked out at okay. her head was full of nothing but paige, eat her out, make her feel good, and she immediately lay down between paige’s legs and starting mouthing at her clit through the fabric of paige’s boxers.
“let’s get these off, first, okay baby?” paige paused her, sliding off the boxers and leaving herself exposed.
azzi barely registered it. nothing mattered in her world except paige, her lips, and her tongue. paige was so wet that her tongue slipped more than she wanted, but she tried valiantly to pressure her clit, pleasure everywhere that her mouth could reach.
she was a little sloppy, she knew, but she couldn’t stop herself from tonguing up her slit again and again, circling her clit, looking up at the rise and fall of her chest. paige’s swears and praise fell on her ears like gentle rainfall, encouragement, and she felt like she was floating.
her fingers spread paige apart, and she continued with her tongue on paige for a period of time that was probably much longer than it felt, lapping fervently and mindlessly, before paige’s rough hands fisted her hair and tugged her up and off.
she looked up at paige from between her legs, mouth covered in slick and hair in paige’s fist, eyes dark and shining. paige swore and looked away quickly, squeezing her eyes shut and taking in a deep breath.
“so good, baby,” paige managed, “g’na cum if you keep going.”
good. azzi wanted that.
“you wanna make me cum, pretty?” paige asked, like she could read azzi’s mind.
azzi nodded.
“okay,” paige affirmed. “let me get the strap on.”
azzi nodded again. usually, she’d help, but she felt fuzzy and light and not all quite there, and she watched through a haze as paige stepped into the harness. paige adjusted the flat of the back of the vibrating dildo where it came through and nestled into her clit, taking a deep breath, and made sure that everything was strapped in correctly. azzi thought she was the hottest woman alive.
paige stepped towards her and azzi instinctively moved onto her stomach, opening her mouth for paige to put the strap inside. paige relented, letting her take it deep into her mouth, but refused to fuck her throat with it. the slide of it against azzi’s cheeks and tongue felt so good, the weight of it grounding and solid.
she bobbed her head as paige’s hand slid to grab at her hair, making sure she was gentle and didn’t take too much. her head spun with it, thinking of absolutely nothing but the taste of paige in her mouth. getting paige’s slick from earlier mixed with her spit all over it sent azzi’s brain reeling. god.
paige pulled her off, and her forehead fell against the side of the strap as she caught her breath. paige’s fingers stroked through her hair, gentle, and she mouthed a kiss at the base of the harness.
“can you lay back for me, beautiful?” paige murmured. azzi nodded again. she was doing a lot of that. she jerked herself up, almost robotic, like she was programmed to obey paige’s requests, and laid back against the pillows. she let her legs spread automatically, heat open and willing for paige.
paige looked like she couldn’t decide if she wanted to start praying or crying. “you ready, baby?”
azzi let out an affirmative sound. paige slid two fingers in her anyways, just to check, and azzi whined. not enough. “more,” she vocalized, scratchy and sudden.
paige slipped another along with it, and yeah, that was better, but not enough, and azzi didn’t let her keep up that pace before looking up at paige pleadingly. “need it,” she whispered.
paige’s eyes were wide, searching her face at every instant. azzi felt so cared for, so trusted, so loved. she was sick.
“you need me, baby?”
“need you.”
paige kissed her then, something quiet and careful. she slipped something cold and hard into azzi’s hand, and it took her a second to register that it was the remote for the vibrator. she clicked it once to make sure that she was right, and paige gasped as her presumably swollen clit was stimulated by the silicone.
azzi turned it off again. she blinked up at paige.
paige had an unreadable expression on her face. she drank in azzi’s countenance for a moment longer before squeezing her eyes shut and reopening them, drawing back.
she took her time gently lining up the dildo with azzi’s entrance. azzi shuddered, overwhelmed. she felt like she was going to combust if it didn’t get inside her soon.
when it slowly, slowly breached inside, a high-pitched sound left azzi that was embarrassing to recount later.
“that’s it, baby,” paige was whispering, a stream of praise and comfort, “you’re doing so good. you’re so perfect. you’re so good for me. look at you.”
she thrust inside shallowly for a few beats, warming azzi up, and azzi’s chest trembled. paige’s hands were busy keeping herself up, biceps bracketing azzi, and the sight of the flexed muscles made azzi gush over the silicone. the wetness was enough for paige to finish sliding in, and that was enough for azzi to press the button the controller and to start the vibrations.
the pulsations carried deep within her, the base of it vibrating and coming dangerously close to her clit, and paige whimpered at the pressure.
watching paige’s hips snap into her was more erotic than even getting fucked. her lips were slightly parted, wet and shining, eyes hyper-focused on making sure she stayed inside of azzi. each thrust was always purposeful, instinctive, like she was exactly aware of the shape of azzi’s insides and was feeling out the perfect spots to hit.
her abs gleamed with a sheen of sweat, hair falling out of her messy bun. when she hit a particularly deep thrust, she moaned right along with azzi. good, was all azzi could think. she feels good.
paige flipped her onto her front, tugging her up by the hips. azzi’s face was buried in the pillows, probably wetting them, ass up while paige entered her again. the new angle pressed against her in a way that was almost overstimulating, and with a groan she turned off the vibration before it overwhelmed her.
she felt her ass bounce against the harness, the slapping sound along with the wet sounds of her cunt sloppily filling the room. she could feel how paige was getting into it, fucking her hips in a dirty, steady rhythm as her breaths started to come faster.
“fucking perfect,” paige muttered, hitting her asscheek. the jolt and sting of it flushed through azzi with an electric buzz, and she moaned, muffled, into the pillows. paige gripped her hip bones, leaning forwards, and snapped her hips forward faster.
azzi’s breathing was labored, head fuzzy, heat building up inside her gut again. in this position, with paige fucking into her deep and hard while she trembled trying to stay up, she felt good.
she felt like she was being used, like she existed for paige’s pleasure and was doing a damn good job of it, letting paige fuck her all she wanted and all she deserved to. the possessiveness of it all drove her mad.
just when she thought about turning the vibrator on and getting paige to cum, paige flipped her over again.
“wanna see your face,” she mumbled.
her eyes bored into azzi’s. azzi could barely keep hers open, the only thing she could focus on being where paige entered, entered, entered. azzi wasn’t even thinking about cumming anymore, wasn’t thinking about anything.
“fuck, azzi, you’re so good, baby,” paige rambled, almost incoherent. azzi felt something warm on her jaw, and she got tugged to face paige fully. the hand on her chin slid down to her arm, to her hand.
a click sounded through the room, and a vibration shot through azzi’s insides.
“fuck, fuck, fuck,” she gasped, hips canting up. a hand kept her down, thumb landing on her clit and circling around it. she felt like she was being electrocuted. pleasure coursed through her body like a heat wave.
she could only manage an “i’m–” before she came again with a cry, an incoherent sound that had her back arching and her mind crashing over itself.
paige released a broken sound, fucking her faster, harder, and her hips suddenly stilled as she came, deep inside azzi. her thumb, by some miracle, kept moving on azzi’s clit, and azzi jolted as the stimulation became too much, each subduing wave growing overly sensitive.
the blonde removed her hands as the pleasure subsided, not so much bending to meet azzi as collapsing on top of her, kissing her mouth and cradling her face. she was still inside of her, but her hand snaked back out to the vibrator controller to turn it off.
azzi relaxed as the stimulation stopped, and she kissed paige back wordlessly. love you.
she imagined paige saying it back so vividly that she almost thought she did.
they lay there for a minute, maybe five, catching their breath and holding each other. azzi’s eyes drifted shut, and she was vaguely aware of paige whispering praise in her ear and stroking her stomach with soft fingers. she was still inside of azzi, and gently pulled herself out.
azzi braced herself for the empty feeling, the buzz of the pleasure that remained and the slight soreness that came from getting utterly fucked. it felt worse than she remembered, like her body didn’t want to let go of paige. like paige belonged inside.
paige kissed her cheek. “okay?”
she nodded. paige kissed her again. “can you talk to me, baby?”
she shook her head.
“can i get up and get a washcloth, or do you want me to stay here?”
azzi turned her head to lock paige in with another kiss. paige kissed her back for a minute, then broke away smiling. “stay, got it. gonna need to shower this shit off, anyways.”
azzi huffed a laugh at the unexpected joke. it helped her brain come back online a little, take note of the feeling of the bedsheets beneath her and the warmth of where paige pressed into her and the wetness between her legs.
paige had fucked her brains out, and she still hadn’t told her that a) she loved her, or b) what happened with her family. whatever.
“what you thinking about?” paige mumbled into the side of her face.
azzi blanked. “tour,” she fibbed, voice low and slurred. she didn’t have the energy to come up with anything better.
paige laughed. “really? now?”
azzi smiled. “endurance practice.”
“stupid,” paige muttered, endeared. “you’re gonna do great though, really. excited for your first show.”
“you have a game,” azzi said automatically. not creepy at all.
paige sighed. “yeah.”
they fell into silence for a minute longer. it was quiet, intimate. it was everything azzi wanted.
“so,” paige started, “i’m thinking, you finish your sandwich. we go sit outside on the porch. then, i take you out for dinner. and tomorrow, we can go mini golfing and i can take you to my favorite brunch spot. and i can introduce you to arike and nai and jj, and we can go to the botanical gardens after that. and then i booked us ziplining and a ghost tour for our last day because you like that history shit.”
“jesus,” azzi groaned, pushing her away, “you’re so– organized.”
“whatever you want,” paige said simply, matter-of-fact. azzi ached. she bit down on the inside of her lip.
“whatever you want,” azzi countered.
“whatever we want.”
“whatever we want,” azzi agreed, quiet.
paige kissed her shoulder. “so, about that sandwich.”
—-
“i’m going to throw up,” azzi muttered, head in hands, “i’m going to throw up.”
“hey,” azzi’s manager soothed her, rubbing her back, “you sounded great today at soundcheck. you’ve worked so hard to get here, and it’s your first real show. nobody is expecting you to be perfect. you just gotta do what you love to do.”
azzi nodded miserably, eyes still closed. her stomach felt like the bottom of a draining pool, swirling around dirt and grime. she’d done a festival on short notice, she could do a concert where people actually wanted to see her.
that, oddly, made it worse– they wanted to see her. they were coming in with expectations, with hopes that she would play their favorite song, with knowledge of her artistry and her personal life and they were going to see her at her most raw and vulnerable, performing the craft that she dedicated her life to.
she was ready– she knew she was ready. she tried to feel like how she felt at the festival, to turn herself into azzi, the idea, the artist, the myth.
it wasn’t working.
nobody can see how you’re feeling inside, paige had texted her. sometimes u just have to walk out and take your time becoming who they see.
she inhaled deeply through her nose, tried to ignore the pounding of her cataclysmic heartbeat. four beats in through the nose into the stomach. hold. exhale and press the air out. repeat.
it didn’t have to be perfect. it just had to be decent. her props just had to work. the sound just had to be mixed right, and the producers all had to signal the right cues, and her band just had to be perfect, and she couldn’t let her hand slip on the guitar, and there needed to be cameras and water and–
one thing at a time. first, the song everyone knew. then five more songs off her album. she’d thrown in her lovesong cover. full set change. another popular song. her newest single. full set change. last song. encore, an unreleased song.
one, two, azzi to center stage in three minutes, her in-ear monitor buzzed. she inhaled one more time, for good measure, and her manager squeezed her shoulder.
“you got this, kid,” her manager muttered.
azzi managed to nod and pull her lips into some marionette-stuff version of a smile. she stood up, eyes scanning the stage for her guitar. the humming of the crowd was electric, intensified by the dimming of the crowd lights and the glare of the spotlights.
she tried to focus on just one conversation, but her brain couldn’t tune in. the whole crowd sounded like it was sounding out the syllables of her name, azzi, azzi, thick and heavy with eager anticipation.
the band struck up the introduction of the first song, and the crowd was deafening. azzi’s head whipped around to the sound crew, who beamed at her and gestured forwards.
azzi to center stage, her in-ear said, now.
azzi adjusted the white collar of the shirt below her blazer and smiled again. she let the rapid beating of her heart push blood into her lips, let it carry them up into a real, nervous smile. she would come as she was.
she stepped out onto the stage, and became azzi fudd.
__
azzi was performing her first real concert, ever, and paige was playing against the stupid fucking mist. sure, playing against stewie was always fun, but she’d done it a million times.
rephrase: azzi was performing her first real concert, ever, and paige was sitting in the locker room bathroom, pretending to need to pee while she watched a grainy tiktok livestream on her phone.
she’d already been in there for ten minutes, and she knew there wasn’t much more that she could get away with. she just couldn’t tear her eyes away from the screen, not when azzi looked like that. cargo pants and a belt, a soft brown and beige blazer, hair braided back from the front into long, cascading waves. fingers manicured a gentle french, deftly strumming along her silvery guitar strings. she was captivating.
after this song, paige told herself. i’ll go back to the locker room after this song. it was stolen time, more than she was probably allowed, but she gave herself some leeway. the breeze were playing decently, and as the captain she was generally afforded a little more space because they knew she could hold herself accountable.
the current set was this blooming, alive thing that suspended flowers and plants and books and records in midair, azzi sitting in a fake room of a mossy house. azzi had refused to talk about the set with her, and paige was fairly certain it was because the house vaguely resembled her family’s minnesota cabin.
paige wished she could turn the volume up more without it echoing off the tiled walls and giving her away. her stomach jolted with each lilt of azzi’s voice, nervous almost as if she were azzi herself. probably more.
she blinked, putting her hand on the bathroom door. the livestream glitched, pulling her out of it, and she hissed softly. she felt like an idiot. a grown woman, with a job, sneaking away to watch a girl she couldn’t even ask out perform the most important show of her life. she’d do it again.
the bathroom door suddenly jolted, a loud banging coming from the other side.
“yo, p,” rickea shouted at her, “you alright? we gotta go, halftime’s over.”
paige swore, panicking and turning off her phone with a click. “fuck, yeah, stomachache,” she lied. she tucked her phone into her waistband and covered it with her shirt, swinging the door open.
rickea stared at her. “you look stressed out. you sure everything’s good?”
“nah, yeah,” paige laughed, reaching up to touch at her ponytail. “just gotta lock in.”
“somewhere you wish you were?” rickea asked, and paige realized that she was nowhere near as slick as she thought she was. she swallowed, throat dry, and shrugged.
“where would i rather be than with kea, my favorite basketball player?”
rickea rolled her eyes. “starts with an a. rhymes with bazzi budd’s boncert.”
paige’s lips pinched together. what did it say that she had basketball, her favorite thing in the world, in front of her, waiting, and she was glued to her phone for the barest glimpse of what she couldn’t have?
she washed her hands, even though she hadn’t used the bathroom. rickea opened the door for her. mercifully, she didn’t say anything else, or tease her. “c’mon, p,” she said quietly, and led them back out and to the court. “noelle says you gotta drive from your left or pass it up to dom.”
__
AZZI. AZZI. AZZI. AZZI. AZZI.
the crowd was deafening. they were stomping and clapping, and azzi felt like the whole arena was shaking. she pressed her hands to her mouth in disbelief for a moment before taking a sip of water that a crew member held out to her.
twenty seconds to encore, her in-ears said.
the show had been wonderful. she’d started the tour in washington d.c., near where she grew up in virginia, to feel a sense of home, and the crowd loved her. she saw the familiar faces of a few friends from high school a couple times and nearly cried.
transforming her former home from a place that she was scared of to a place where she felt loved again felt incredible. her hands were still shaking with adrenaline, nerves, and gratitude. the crowd had known all of the songs she played, even her most recent single. being able to watch them sing her lyrics back to her, sing her lyrics to each other, had been the single most meaningful event of her life.
she was giving all of herself to these people and they were appreciating her, loving her, giving it right back. her heart felt three times its size. maybe she was crazy, but– between that and how well her trip to paige’s had been, she was feeling like everything was working out.
hanging out with paige had been nothing short of a fucking honeymoon. no, azzi hadn’t talked to her about her family, and no, she hadn’t told her she loved her, but there just– hadn’t been a right moment. azzi was content to bask in the world they created, in the home paige had made for herself.
one more song to go. she’d already performed her latest single, which left her unreleased song as the one she’d sing for the encore. it was bold, to choose an unreleased song for the encore; usually, the artist picked a few fan favorites to sing. but azzi didn’t have that much fucking music, so she’d already played through her whole album and her new singles.
she was really excited to be able to share it with her audience, to watch their faces as they listened to her and realized that they were getting a new song.
she was also really nervous to sing it, because it was sort of a confession; she’d written it about yearning, wanting so badly to tell paige that she loved her again but not doing it. it was less than subtle, but maybe paige would get the hint, and–
fudd to stage, encore start.
she stepped back onto the stage. the crowd erupted.
she grinned widely, abounding joy. she’d arranged for a curtain to close over her set, leaving just her in a spotlight. as the song crescendoed to its emotional peak, the musicians would slowly walk onstage, playing their instruments, and they’d take the final bows together.
she walked to the center of the stage, standing and waiting for the crowd to die down. if anything, they got louder; she couldn’t keep the smile off her face as she tried to wave her hands to subdue them.
she tapped her right in-ear monitor once, the signal to start playing the introduction.
encore start. a metronome started in her left ear. the spotlight seemed even brighter after leaving it and coming back to it, and she squinted a little.
she started singing, all alone on the stage, and a hush fell over the crowd as they realized that the song was new. they waited eagerly, perched at the edges of their seats, their eyes shining with the reflection from the stage. azzi felt like a siren, like she held the minds of these beautiful people within the four walls of her voice box.
she sang about wanting and aching and the repeated i-love-you in her head, and the music swelled as her musicians began to file onstage. the spotlight began to turn pink, and delicate, eco-friendly, fake cherry blossoms began to rain down from the ceiling.
the musicians all joined her on stage. the lights swelled and more blossoms dropped until they looked like rainfall, and she repeated her last line again and again as the music crescendoed. the crowd slowly got louder until everything became one big roar, and azzi’s heart hammered in her chest with love, love, love.
“thank you d.c.!” she yelled, throwing a hand up. she took a final look around at the warm, shining faces calling to her, yelling for her, smiling at her, and she took a bow.
fudd off stage. she blew kisses to the front row, wings, upper levels, lighting crew, stage crew, musicians. fudd off stage. she held her hands over her heart and mouthed thank you, i love you.
fudd off stage, now.
she jogged off stage, feeling like the smile on her face would never leave. the adrenaline high was insane, she felt like she needed to do something with her hands, or run a marathon, or scream, or–
god, she wished paige were here. she wanted to throw her arms around her backstage and kiss her senseless. she wanted to talk at her for hours about every little thing that happened during the show, even when paige stopped her and reminded her of her vocal rest.
her hands still shook as she reached for a sweat towel and a bottle of water from her crew, someone else already taking out her in-ears. of course, it’d be the biggest moment of her life and she’d be thinking about paige.
“azzi?” a voice said. “this woman–”
azzi’s head snapped up, expecting to see a head of blonde hair and a sheepish grin.
“--says she’s your mother.”
what?
the water bottle in azzi’s hand was suddenly ice-cold. she froze in place.
of every situation that she’d imagined seeing her parents in again, it was never backstage at her own concert. back at her childhood house, maybe, or at college, or accidentally in the supermarket, but never somewhere that felt sacred to azzi. the stage was her own creation. they’d made it clear that they thought she was an idiot for wanting to pursue music. she’d fought for this.
her eyes landed on her mother, short with her eyebrows pinched together like always. there were new lines around her forehead, around her jowls, and her hair was a shade less natural than it used to be.
though her face had changed, she looked like a memory. it was the same feeling azzi got when she remembered, when she thought too hard about it; chills scraped down her spine. azzi stared in disbelief. her hand twitched forwards, as if to touch the woman and check.
“azzi,” her mother said, thin lips curving up into a smile.
everything shocked in azzi turned to anger in an instant. how dare she. how dare she show up during what was supposed to be one of the happiest moments of her life. how dare she have the audacity to stand there and smile, to force her way backstage, to insert herself back into azzi’s life the fucking moment that things were finally looking up for her?
azzi’s lip curled, and her hand balled into a fist. her mom moved forwards, as if to hug her, but azzi turned her head and put her palm up.
“who let her in?” she directed the question to the security guard. her voice quivered. she couldn’t speak to her. she couldn’t. she couldn’t do this right now.
“i-i did, ma’am,” the security guard replied, eyes wide, “she came ‘round the back, she said she was your mother and she was trying to surprise you, and she showed proof–”
“did you check with my manager first? my agent? the reps? anyone?” she sounded like a bitch. she couldn’t help it.
“no, she just– i didn’t have time before– before the show ended,” the security guard babbled.
azzi felt her whole body trembling like a leaf. she hated for strangers to see her weak. she hated for this to happen in public, with thousands of fans just beyond the curtain. she closed her eyes and took a deep breath through her belly.
“thank you for your thought. in the future, never do that again.” it was as polite as she could manage to be. she gave the security guard a pained smile. “you can escort her off the premise now. if you would be so kind.”
“azzi,” her mother scolded, condescending, like she had any right to be. azzi’s stomach flipped painfully. “i just wanted to see you, to ask you how you’re doing. is that too much for a mother to ask?”
“get her out,” azzi said quietly.
“azzi, come on, i’m so proud of–”
“GET HER OUT,” azzi yelled, finally, pointing to the door. the backstage went quiet. azzi’s vision began to blur at the edges. she felt like she was going to be sick. she tried to be quieter, but her voice sounded odd and tinny. “get her out, please.”
the security guard looked scared of her, but nodded. they grabbed onto her mother’s arm gently, trying to guide her out.
“absolutely not, i am her mother,” her mother scoffed, offended. she tore her arm away and stepped out of the guard’s grasp. she looked over at azzi like how could you do this to me, and azzi couldn’t fucking believe that after everything, she still felt guilty.
she felt guilty for sending away the mother who disowned her, she felt guilty for never going back or visiting, for never following up with her little brothers, for separating herself from the people who left her to die on the street.
“azzi, let me start over,” her mother ordered. it didn’t matter if azzi wanted her to or not, because azzi’s heart had started to pound in her chest and every nerve was alight with panic. she was frozen to the spot, the idea of talking to her mother fucking terrifying. she couldn’t say no.
“your dad and i want to start over. the boys miss you, and the people in the neighborhood keep asking about you. we’ve seen your success and we are so happy for you. we know things could have been better at home growing up, but things have changed, and–”
“things have changed?” azzi interrupted. her voice was muffled, high and strange to her own ears. “you want to start over? you don’t get to start over with someone you left for dead.”
her mother narrowed her eyes. “azzi, really. we did not ‘leave you for dead’. we gave you a clear choice to try to help guide you in the right direction. but it seems like you found it on your own, and we want to rebuild with you.”
“wh–” azzi was so mad that she couldn’t speak. she blinked hard. “conversion therapy or the streets? that’s not a fucking solution!”
“azzi,” her mother said, spreading her arms out like she wanted a hug, “you were young and misled. we tried to teach you correctly, but you were stubborn. you fought us for so long. it was beginning to hurt the boys, and just think about what the town would have said to us if they knew that you were–”
“a lesbian?” azzi snapped.
her mother went quiet. her upper lip twitched in distaste.
“a…. yes,” her mother replied. “but it’s okay, azzi, we’ve all changed, and we’re so sorry that you felt so alone and that we weren’t there for you when things got dark. you always were a brilliant little kid, so happy all the time and so smart. all we want is to try again. to make things better.”
blood roared in azzi’s ears. her mouth fell open in astonishment; she didn’t even know where to start.
“you still can’t even say it,” she muttered, shaking her head. she stared at the floor, willing desperately for her mother to disappear, for this to all be some insipid adrenaline daydream.
“what?” her mother asked.
“you still can’t even say it,” azzi repeated bitterly, louder. “you can’t say that i’m a lesbian.”
azzi’s mother’s lips thinned. “you’re a grown woman, azzi. you can say you’re whatever you like.”
“but i wasn’t then,” azzi shook her head, “i was fucking fifteen. i was a child. and you–”
“you were being selfish,” her mom interrupted, “you didn’t think about the future–”
“i was being selfish?” azzi shrieked. “was it selfish when i was living out of church fucking basements? selfish when i begged my friends to let me sleep on their couches and drive me to school? selfish when i wrote you letter–” her voice broke, “after letter, begging you to come get me, apologizing again and again for existing wrong, calling you and leaving messages and hoping every fucking night that you’d answer me just to get nothing in return?”
her mother stood still, stunned.
“was it selfish when i sent you invitations to not only my high school graduation but my college graduation? selfish when you threw my suitcase at me and told me to get the fuck out of your house? you said the only way i could continue to live in your house was if i went to fucking conversion therapy, which makes kids like me kill themselves, and i’m selfish for choosing to live?” azzi screamed. she was fully crying now, clear rivulets burning down her cheeks and her neck.
in every version of meeting her parents again that she’d imagined, she’d always screamed. she’d never cried.
when she’d gotten thrown out of the house for refusing to attend conversion therapy, she’d run away so fast and full of anger that she’d tripped and torn open her knees. she remembered the heat of it, the way the blood had bubbled up and popped. she’d had to stop by a nearby pond, trying to rinse it away, and she’d cried so long and hard that she’d vomited all over the clear surface. she never wanted to cry like that again.
she wiped her face angrily. “everything that i have today is despite you. everything that i have is because of my friends, and their parents, and my teachers, and the people who raised me when you didn’t do shit.”
“i gave birth to you. i raised you. i tried to keep you on the right path,” her mother tried to explain, “i’m sorry that everything happened the way it did, but that’s why i’m here. we want to apologize, and we want to try again. the boys are going to head to college soon, and they miss their sister.”
azzi scoffed. “if you cared what the boys thought, you would have kept me there to start with.”
“you have to understand how difficult of a decision that was. we–”
azzi cut her off. “some things can’t be apologized for.”
“you’re not even letting me try!”
azzi’s jaw clenched. her eyes felt swollen, and she felt humiliated, having to do this in front of her crew. her biggest secrets, out in the open. she could feel everyone’s pitying eyes on her, watching, waiting for her next command to spring into action.
“maybe you should have answered my fucking calls,” she said, quietly. “you’re a decade too late, mom.
“i know we’re not perfect, honey, but we’re family. doesn’t that mean anything to you? we’re trying.”
azzi stared at her for a long moment. her mother’s eyes were shining, like she genuinely believed what she was saying. she’d spent so long hating the thought of her mother’s face, hating what she’d taken from her. but azzi had things now that couldn’t be taken away.
“when i go home at night,” she started, “it’s to the woman i love. and it is more than anything you could ever give me.”
her mother looked like she was going to be sick.
“you have two choices. leave yourself, or get thrown out on the street.” azzi whirled on her back foot, walking away. she paused. “give the boys my best.”
before she could hear her mother’s response, she slammed the dressing room door shut behind her.
—
the breeze lost to the mist. what fucking ever. paige burned her way through postgame stretching, the ice bath, the locker room chit-chat.
how was the concert?? how are u feeling??
her texts to azzi were unanswered, but paige didn’t stress about it. she was bursting at the seams to know about it, but she was sure that azzi had her own post-show rituals to fulfill, people to talk to, and routes to find back to her hotel before she could text paige back.
call later? she sent, just in case.
arike invited her to get cinnamon rolls from a new place in town after the game. paige’s dietician would have a word with her, but she didn’t really care. dieticians generally did a poor job recognizing how much delicious food improves quality of life.
the clock ticked by, and arike and her wife kept paige talking and laughing for hours. every time paige checked her phone, there was still no response. no big deal, she figured, but it still felt weird.
maybe she met someone after the show and is spending the night with them, an evil voice in her head whispered. she shook her head violently, ridding herself of the thought. azzi wasn’t that kind of person.
“you good?” arike asked, looking at her funny. her wife, lala, giggled.
paige smiled and rolled her eyes. “fine. just thinking about how i gotta clean my shower drain when i get home.”
“your hair thin as fuck,” lala teased her, “who you been having over?”
paige felt the same stupid smile creep over her face. “nobody, bro, swear. not since last time.”
“you two exclusive yet?” arike asked her.
paige thought about it. “not….really?”
lala raised an eyebrow. “the fuck does that mean? you’re either together or you not.”
“like,” paige explained, “not verbally. but physically, emotionally….yeah i– i think i gotta ask her soon.”
“she could ask you,” arike suggested, “she broke up with you, technically. why it always gotta be the masc?”
an excellent critique of gender roles, paige appraised. but the truth was– “i just want to.”
“fair enough.”
“anyways, i’m gonna head back. gotta get some more recovery in. don’t know how you still do this at your big age,” paige winked. arike hit her on the shoulder.
they argued for a minute until paige’s cheeks hurt from laughing, then she excused herself to throw out her trash and head back to the miami residence.
she got back and took a hot shower, getting on her yoga mat and rolling out her muscles. she laid back lazily and slid her leg along the roller while she scrolled through twitter on her phone.
it was a bunch of stupid memes and basketball stats. she wondered how azzi was doing, what people thought of the show.
azzi fudd, she typed into the searchbar. sue her.
@/fuddaround: AZZI’S PAGYIGN AN UNRLEASED SONGGGG!!!!! OH GMGHDGHJG <<video clip>>
@/violetsrblue: THIS IS NOT A DRILL I REPEAT THIS IS NOT A DRILL AZZI FUDD UNRELEASED SONG
@/routercable: these SETS? the PROPS? hello azzi fudd you are INSANE <<images>>
@/azzicakes: if you haven’t bought tickets to see azzi fudd do it Now. she sounds just like the record and the show is heartwrenching and beautiful and fun and wow. one of the best concerts i’ve ever ever been to
paige’s heart beat loudly in her chest. she took the praise entirely personally, endlessly proud of azzi and how well the show must have gone.
@/random538: rumors of yelling coming from backstage at the azzi fudd concert….someone said it sounded like “get her out”.... trouble in paradise?
@/fudderooni: nah it can’t be p she was playing in miami
paige stopped stretching abruptly. who had visited azzi backstage? was that credible? azzi hadn’t told her anything…she couldn’t think of anyone who would pay azzi an unwanted visit. kaitlyn and mackenzie would be more than welcome, dorka would be welcome…now that she and paige were close again, none of paige’s friends would be unwelcome. but she doubted they would show up.
maybe someone from high school? someone paige didn’t know? an ex of sorts? the thought made paige a little queasy, but she knew azzi only had one other ex, and it hadn’t ended on terms bad enough to warrant that reaction.
@/aroundazzi: can someone explain the azzi fudd drama to me please? thanks
@/pandafan: @/aroundazzi u shouldn’t look it up tbh it’s not any of our business as fans
@/golfingsucks: this account rumored to be a’s mom is reposting a bunch of hate about
her. there’s some slurs in here so i’d recommend viewing cautiously. <<screenshot>>
Recommended Tweets for You:
2h ago - @/fudderrr: who would say some shit like that like genuinely. about their own daughter. that’s sick
1h ago - @/azzifan1: Just a reminder that we do not know A personally! This is none of our business! Stop stalking accounts of people related to celebrities!
@/fuddropes: Yea that woman has to be crazy. The things she said azzi did are insane.
5s ago - @/peoplesnews: TMZ Reports that Azzi Fudd’s Mother was Kicked Out of her Concert! Read Her Exclusive Interview HERE
paige sat up, suddenly sick to her stomach. oh, god, azzi. she only knew the basics of what had happened with azzi and her family– that azzi had been kicked out at some point and that they no longer spoke to each other. clearly, it was something really messed up, because it fucked azzi up badly.
she didn’t bother reading the interview, knowing that it would piss her off enough to potentially do something that she would regret. she wouldn’t give that bullshit any of her attention or interaction.
she went back to the tweets complimenting azzi’s performance and retweeted some of them. there.
was that why azzi wasn’t responding? why hadn’t she told paige?
paige paused. azzi….this was sensitive. was it her place to call? she checked trending. the second-most tweeted-about item was azzi’s mother’s name. jesus christ. she– no, she had to warn azzi about it before azzi accidentally saw the interview. she knew that azzi wasn’t on social media, but she might have checked after the concert to see–
paige was hitting the call button before she even registered it.
it rang once. paige clenched her jaw. twice, three times. she looked up, nervous. four. five.
she was about to hang up and call azzi’s manager (via instagram dm, you gotta do what you gotta do) when the line stopped ringing.
“hey,” azzi said, quiet. she sounded drained. paige’s heart felt like it was being pressed in a juicer.
azzi was silent for a moment. “mm,” she mumbled, barely there. she sounded small. paige wanted to kill someone.
“i saw on twitter that you sang a new song,” paige tried, “i didn’t listen yet, but you didn’t tell me about that in rehearsals.”
a weak laugh came through the receiver. “yeah, i…you should listen.”
“i will. i promise.”
should paige bring it up? how do you even bring something like that up?
“azzi i… i saw something else on twitter, too.”
“what?” azzi sounded genuinely confused. shit. did she not know it leaked?
“baby,” paige started, “where are you?”
“i’m– i’m in my tour van. i’m alone. nobody can hear me. why?"
okay. good. “they’re saying– it’s, uh– something about your mom. and people heard a fight. and now– online, your mom… like, everyone’s talking about…she’s making up stuff.”
azzi was silent. paige panicked. fuck.
it had to be her worst nightmare; performing the first show of your new career, succeeding against all odds and putting on a magical performance, just to be upstaged by her fucking mother. the woman who kicked her out.
she heard a breath from the other side of the line, low and sharp.
“you okay?”
azzi didn’t answer. paige gave her a moment. a few more deep breaths came from the speaker.
“azzi? you okay?” she repeated.
still nothing. paige’s eyebrows furrowed together, hand tugging at her ponytail. shit. azzi got like this when it was really bad, when she was really overwhelmed.
the same thing had happened the first time they’d been together, when paige had asked one question too many about the details of azzi getting kicked out. azzi had later described her words as getting “stuck in her throat”-- she wanted to say them, but they just– wouldn’t come out. it was overwhelming, and frustrating, and paige had held her through it and decided not to push any more.
but paige couldn’t hold her now. she exhaled deeply, chewing her lip. “i’m here,” she said quietly, “i’m here.”
azzi was still quiet, sans a deep breath and a small choking sound. paige was silent, and let her process. the emotional rollercoaster must have hit azzi hard.
she put azzi on speaker and texted azzi’s manager a reminder.
she waited in silence for a few more moments. she sent azzi a gif of an animated cat giving a hug. azzi let out a little breath at it.
“she...” azzi started. paige put the speaker to her ear. she didn’t want to miss a word. “she came backstage. she told a security guard she wanted to surprise me, and the idiot– he let her in.”
“okay,” paige replied. “what did she want?”
“i don’t know,” azzi said, choked, “she said– she said she wanted to start over. and she was proud of me, and everyone was proud of me. and they missed me.”
jesus christ. that couldn’t have been fun.
“fucking asshole,” azzi spat, suddenly, “you can’t just show up, and say all the things you know i want to hear. you can’t just do that when i waited for–” her voice broke, “almost a decade, and she– and they– not one fucking word! did you know i sent them an invitation to my graduation?”
paige listened. that’s all she could do.
“i sent them an invitation to my graduation like a fucking idiot, like maybe they’d show up for their stupid lesbian daughter just because. because i was so alone, because you were gone, and everyone was inviting people they loved and i had nobody, and– like they hadn’t ignored my invitation to my high school graduation, and before that all my calls and all my texts, and–” she cut herself off with a frustrated sound.
“azzi,” paige asked, gentle, “how old were you when you– when you split?”
“fifteen,” azzi whispered, “i couldn’t even drive.”
“that’s fucked up.”
azzi huffed a laugh through the receiver. “yeah it– they.” she paused, gathering strength, “we would get into these fights, because they had suspicions that i was– and one night, they got into my phone, and they read through my texts with my friends, and they found out that i’m…”
“you’re?”
“a lesbian. they…they hated it. and they never looked at me the same. and they started ignoring me, and they didn’t let me hang out with any of my friends just in case we were… y’know. i wasn’t allowed my phone, or to write letters, or to be around my brothers in case i influenced them. and one night they came to me, and they gave me two options: go to conversion therapy for the entirety of the next summer, or get kicked out. you can guess what i chose.”
paige physically winced.
“where did you go?”
“wherever,” azzi muttered, “i stayed in churches for a bit, but they kept asking too many questions. i rotated between my friends’ couches, working to save up to get to college. i couldn’t let the school know, or they’d call the police or something. i couldn’t face them, didn’t want to force them– i wanted them to want me. they never– i tried to call– they never–” she broke down in tears.
“it’s okay,” paige whispered again. “i’m here.” i love you. you don’t have to worry about anything anymore. i’m here. i’ll fix it.
“she called me selfish,” azzi choked out.
“you’re not selfish.”
“i have money now, i could use it to support my brothers. what if she really did change?”
“do you think she did?”
azzi paused. “no.”
“no?”
“no, it feels like i’m finally successful enough for her to overlook the fact that i’m a lesbian. it feels like in return, she expects me to overlook their wrongdoing because she acknowledged that things went south. but it’s not really love. i know what lov– it’s not really love.”
“it’s not,” paige agreed. “you don’t owe her anything. what she put you through is horrible, azzi. you don’t owe any of them anything.”
“thanks,” azzi said quietly. she groaned. “what am i going to do?”
paige shrugged, forgetting that azzi couldn’t see her. “are you going to have to put out a statement?” she asked.
“fuck, i hope not,” azzi swallowed, “i don’t want to give her any attention.”
“you don’t have to worry about it now,” paige offered, “you did something amazing tonight. take your time to feel proud of yourself for that instead.”
paige texted azzi’s manager again.
“it was amazing,” azzi confessed, “it was like a dream. and she ruined it.”
“no, she didn’t. she can’t take anything good away from you anymore, az. you’re free.”
azzi was quiet. paige heard a sniff through the line.
a knock sounded through the speaker.
“hold on,” azzi muttered, “someone’s knocking. i’ll be right back.” the line went quiet for a minute.
“i’m gonna kill you,” azzi said quietly, but paige heard the smile in her voice and grinned widely. “these are beautiful.”
paige had set azzi’s manager up to give her a large bouquet from paige after the show. she wasn’t sure they’d be beautiful so many hours after being purchased, but she wanted to do what she could to show azzi how proud of her she was.
“you’re beautiful.”
“fuck off,” azzi scoffed, and paige could hear her eye roll. “i– this– thank you. thank you, paige. this means so much to me.”
“i have something else, too,” paige stated. her stomach swam with butterflies, suddenly nervous to ask. was it bad timing? she’d been planning on asking for a while, but had been working up the courage.
“something else? paige, this is enough.”
“well, it’s– it’s an invitation,” paige began. she chewed her lip.
“an invitation? to what?” azzi asked, incredulous.
“well, i dunno if you can make it, and i know this is maybe really bad timing, but– i’ve been meaning to ask for a minute just to see if maybe we can make it work. i was just thinking, uh, y’know, my family’s been– asking about you. and they’re coming to miami next month like a week before your georgia concert and i was just wondering if– y’know, you’d maybe wanna come say hi. to everyone.” she finished dumbly.
stupid, stupid, stupid. she felt like she was rubbing salt in the wound, saying hey azzi, sorry about your fucked up family, look at my awesome one!
but the truth was, and azzi knew it, that her family was also far from perfect. her parents had divorced, and her stepsiblings didn’t know each other well, and things were always half-split and kinda awkward. but they loved each other anyways. and paige hoped that was what she was conveying. that paige wasn’t the kind of person who cared when things were broken. she was the kind who loved anyways.
and that azzi had someone. her. always her. (paige’s parents also loved azzi. and they missed her.)
azzi’s voice when she responded was soft. “of course. i–” she paused, “i would like that. very much.”
“okay. awesome,” paige said, breathing a sigh of relief. “it’s a date.”
prguitarman
ellievsbear
vaporwave
pixelskylines
