be still your heart (and do not resuscitate)
word count: 5884
summary: rockstar!paige x basketball!azzi au #yktv
content warnings: explicit sexual content, swearing, etc. read at your own discretion!
notes: i've been shitposting about this fic for a hot second now so i hope to god that this lives up to the hype! i am quite proud of it and i hope you guys enjoy :) also, in this universe, i suppose the cure still exists but pierce the veil doesn't? idk please Suspend your disbelief. title is from so far so fake by pierce the veil, which is the first song paige's band plays in the concert scene!
—
azzi would not necessarily describe herself as a cool girl.
charming? definitely. pretty? sure. the best college shooter in the country? abso-fucking-lutely. but cool? nah. not really her thing.
however, despite the fact that azzi would be hesitant to self-identify as a cool girl, she definitely had a tendency to fall for them. or, at least, one cool girl in particular.
“hey, watch it!”
“sorry!” azzi called out over her shoulder as she wove her way through the throng of people crowding the entrance to the small, scrappy venue. she was laser-focused, throwing elbows in order to make it inside while attempting to avoid the inconvenience of being recognized. which, realistically, was probably not very likely– the venn diagram of people who followed the university of connecticut women’s basketball team and a mildly successful female punk band from minnesota was, presumably, nonexistent.
but they were in los angeles, which meant that the likelihood of azzi getting recognized was at least marginally higher than usual. and despite her usual willingness to engage, azzi really did not want to get stopped by any well-meaning fans tonight. especially ahead of her game against ucla, bright and early the next morning. especially when no one in the entire world knew she was here, not her teammates or her family or even the girl she had snuck in to see.
wiping a bead of sweat off her forehead, azzi pushed her way out of line, heading straight for the wall on the left side of the venue. the floor was becoming increasingly more crowded as concert-goers filtered in, filling the space with a steady thrum of noise and energy. the house lights shone in various shades of purple, and they rhythmically illuminated the smoke lingering above the crowd in a way that almost mirrored the erratic pulse of azzi’s heartbeat in her ears. as she settled inconspicuously against the wall, she found that, oddly enough, she felt nervous.
it was silly, because at this point, there was certainly no cause for nerves. she had been in this position dozens of times since that first night, heard paige’s cool menthol lilt fill venue after venue, as often as her travel schedule allowed. so, really, there was no need to be nervous. leaning away from the wall, she shook her shoulders out ever-so-slightly, reiterating to herself that everything was fine, that she was probably just eager to see the stupid look on paige’s face when she surprised her after the show.
but despite her half-hearted self-assurance, azzi found her thoughts wandering further as she waited idly for the show to start, breathing in the heavy scent of stage lights, sweat, and anticipation.
—
her mind conjured up an image of the first time she had ever seen paige perform, in a dingy shoebox theater in connecticut. caroline had dragged her out to the show, claiming that the main act was “really badass” and “super hot” and “totally gay, which is, like, great for you, az.” azzi had rolled her eyes, laughing.
they had arrived at the theater behind schedule, just as the opener was beginning their last song. the floor had been packed, and azzi had peered over the crowd in order to get a glimpse of the stage. as caroline wandered off to the bar and audience members shifted side-to-side in wait, half-listening, azzi had found herself frozen in place.
on the stage, there was a girl, bleach-blonde and lanky and dressed head-to-toe in black. despite the obvious lack of attention from the crowd, she was pouring her heart out into the microphone that was clenched in her hand, letting her cherry-red electric guitar hang loosely from her neck. the track was intense, commanding, and the girl’s voice rang out into the space like the whistle preceding a firework. behind her, the rest of the band moved in tandem, fired-up and steady.
azzi had blinked, feeling a bit like the floor had been pulled out from beneath her, leaving her off-balance and reeling. she had looked around, incredulous that only a few other audience members seemed to feel as drawn to the stage as she did, that practically none of the people around her also found their eyes glued to the girl’s hands moving deftly up and down the neck of her guitar. she felt indignant, curious, and she let the strange current of energy carry her all the way up to the front of the crowd, directly beneath the end of the stage.
and, wow. up close, she could make out the color of the girl’s eyes, blue as the sea after a storm. she could see the light sheen of sweat beading her forehead, the crease between her eyebrows as she squeezed her eyes shut to hit a particularly difficult note. as azzi continued to gaze up at her, entranced, she took note of the fact that the song was good. like, really good. and azzi didn’t even like punk music. she wondered distantly if the band was on spotify.
lost in thought, azzi had realized a beat too late that the girl had opened her eyes. and– fuck. she was looking straight at azzi, singing and smiling. azzi could hear a tinge of laughter in the tone of her voice.
azzi had flushed, embarrassed to have been caught staring, especially when the rest of the crowd seemed to be only half-paying attention, casually nodding their heads along while talking amongst themselves. but, never one to back down from a challenge, azzi had refused to break eye contact, smiling back at the blonde encouragingly. keep going, she tried to convey through her gaze. whatever you’re doing, keep doing it. the rest of this crowd may not see it, but i do.
the girl’s grin had widened, bringing out the apples of her cheeks. she had sung the rest of the song that way, looking at azzi, leaving the brunette breathless and more curious by the second. it was only when the last strum of her guitar rang out into the crowd that she tore her gaze away, stepping back up to the microphone stand.
“thank you so much, everyone! we are full court press, and my name is paige, and i will be lurking around the merch stand for the rest of the night if you feel inclined to come say hi. big thanks to the wings for having us out on this tour! deuces!”
“azzi!”
azzi had whipped her head around to find caroline sidling up to her, drinks in hand. she had cleared her throat, feeling a bit like she had been caught in the act of something illicit. “what’s up?”
“dude, what’s up with you? i couldn’t find you, and then all of the sudden i spot you standing up here like a fucking groupie for the random opener,” caroline had chided as she handed azzi her drink. “you scared me. i thought you had gotten kidnapped or something.”
“sorry, mom,” azzi had retorted, sticking her tongue out at her friend. truth be told, she didn’t really know what she had been doing. all she knew was, that, one way or another, she was going find her way to the merch table before the night came to an end. she was sure of it.
the wings, as it had turned out, were terrible– or, to put it kindly, not azzi’s cup of tea. they were a bunch of thirty-something masc lesbians wearing too much eye black, and azzi had felt vaguely horrified that caroline had described them to her earlier as “hot” and “badass.” approximately halfway through their set, azzi had slipped away from caroline’s side, claiming that she was going to go find the bathroom.
she had wandered around the lobby for a bit, confused. it was dark, and the music was so loud, and despite the fact that the set was in full swing, there were still people milling about, jostling azzi’s shoulders as they passed.
just as she had been about to give up and return to the theater, a voice had rung out from over her shoulder.
“looking for the bathroom?”
azzi had turned around to find paige leaning against the end of the aforementioned merch table, smirking slightly. and– jesus. paige was tall, even taller than azzi, which was no small feat. azzi had swallowed, caught off guard.
“yes– i mean, no, actually, i was looking for, um, for…”
paige had raised her eyebrows at azzi’s floundering, her smile widening. “looking for…”
“uh, you.” the words had left azzi’s lips before they registered in her brain. she had cursed herself, then, wishing the floor would simply open up beneath her and swallow her whole. real smooth, fudd, she thought to herself. way to stay nonchalant.
“really,” paige’s grin had gotten impossibly bigger at azzi’s admission.
“yeah,” azzi had doubled down, committed to the bit despite her flushed cheeks and shaking hands. “i thought you guys were, like, really good. and i don’t even like punk music like that.”
at that, paige had thrown her head back and laughed, unabashed. “dude, thank you. i think you might have been the only person in the entire room that was actually paying full attention, so it means a lot. seriously.”
“well, that’s bullshit,” azzi had replied, with perhaps a bit more passion than the situation warranted. “y’all killed it. people should be paying attention.”
the corners of paige’s eyes had lifted, her cheeks turning the faintest shade of red despite her established sense of easy confidence. azzi had grinned back at her like an idiot, feeling giddy and wild and a bit like she was on the precipice of something that would leave her forever changed.
“what was your name, again?”
“azzi.”
–
and now she was here, standing against this wall, swallowing down her feelings and waiting to watch paige strut out onto yet another stage, in yet another foreign place. they weren’t dating, or really even friends, per se, but ever since that first fateful night, they had made a point to see each other as often as their schedules allowed and their bodies demanded. and between it all, they texted, engaging in a continuous stream of sarcastic comments about each others’ latest press releases and complaints about life on the road and the surprising similarities between existing as a professional athlete and a professional musician.
azzi didn’t really know where all of that left them, or why every time she left paige behind in mussed-up sheets she felt something crack open in her chest, aching. so, like a mature adult, she chose to ignore it, burying the feeling deep down where it would, hopefully, never see the light of day. naturally.
she was startled back to the present moment by the dimming of the house lights, leaving her dazed and blinking in the dark anticipation of the crowd. the audience roared, shaking the foundation of the building with their noise. no longer merely an opener, full court press was riding out the release of their first full-length album, playing a series of shows to sold-out crowds across the country. it was incredible, and a little intimidating. azzi didn’t know what to make of this paige, already so different from the girl she had met six months prior, but still sexy and sweet and shining. ultimately, it was overwhelming, and thinking about it made azzi’s head hurt.
a menacing, sultry guitar riff rang out over the crowd. if possible, the audience grew even louder, screaming at the top of their lungs. despite her intention to maintain a low profile, azzi found herself joining in, adding her voice to the raucous chorus of encouragement.
“so far.”
and– god. there she was, in all of her lesbian sex-symbol punk princess glory. she was wearing a dark blue button-up, slung over her shoulders lazily in an effort to show off her collarbone. her face was painted with her typical heavy makeup, blue eyes flashing out from under her eyeliner. her piercings glinted in the stage lights, her feet stomping on the floor as she jumped up and down wildly in order to amp up the crowd.
azzi’s breath caught in her throat. paige seemed so… assertive, commanding the attention of the audience with just so much as a smile and a strum of her guitar. the blonde had always been confident, but tonight was something else entirely. she looked devastating.
paige’s hands moved deftly up and down the neck of her guitar, stepping away from the mic to face jana, full court press’ lead guitarist, as the brunette tumbled into a blazing guitar solo. maintaining eye contact with her friend, paige slowly sank to her knees, throwing her head back recklessly once she reached the floor.
an image of paige sinking to her knees in front of azzi with a different sort of tender, sultry determination in her eyes flashed involuntarily through azzi’s head. please, paige had begged. please, can i. as the blinking stage lights passed over her face, azzi felt her cheeks begin to burn.
“in the end, you took it all away from me.”
azzi watched intently as paige and the rest of the band closed out the opening track and addressed the crowd, grinning.
“what’s up, los angeles?” paige winked out at the audience, and azzi was pretty sure she saw more than a few girls pretend to faint. despite herself, something twisted in her gut, sour and unsettling. she quickly brushed the feeling away, choosing instead to focus on paige’s flushed cheeks, the haphazard strands of blonde hair catching between her lashes. azzi swallowed.
as she watched paige move through the set, singing and laughing and shining her light, azzi felt something restless and eager build beneath her sternum. she had spent so much of the last six months in motion, driven solely by desire and the incurable urge to have paige back underneath her each time they parted ways. but now, standing here, she felt something foreign settle on top of the physical longing, filling her chest with an odd, airy sensation.
it was one thing to watch paige perform when the blonde knew azzi was present in the audience, making a point to catch her gaze and shoot her sly smiles in between tracks. it was an entirely different experience to observe her from a distance, catching her in her most organic state, doing what she was born to do. it felt so intimate, so distinctly uninhibited, that azzi found her eyes becoming misty, even as the people around her continued to scream and jump and sweat.
but– no. despite whatever strange feelings she found residing around her heart, azzi had not come here tonight to contemplate the fact that she was practically half-in-love with paige already. and even if she had, there were a million reasons why that specific train of thought could never, ever manifest itself into something real, tangible. azzi had come for the feeling of paige’s smooth shoulders underneath her fingertips, her heavy gaze as she looked up from between azzi’s legs. that was it. or, all it could ever be.
“los angeles, you have been so fucking perfect tonight,” paige called out, stepping away from the mic and smiling as the crowd whooped back at her. “we have one more song for you, which, unfortunately, i cannot claim to have written. it is probably the best song ever created, and it just so happens to be the favorite song of my favorite person, so. please sing your hearts out.”
the drums kicked up into a rhythm that was all-too-familiar, upbeat and joyous. azzi froze. no fucking way.
“show me, show me, show me how you do that trick.”
just like heaven, the cure. azzi’s favorite song to end all favorite songs, the first song that she had requested paige play for her when she finally got her alone with a guitar. and, somehow, the favorite song of paige’s favorite person. who obviously wasn’t azzi. right?
attempting to steady her racing heart, azzi reminded herself that just like heaven wasn’t exactly an underground hit– it was probably the favorite song of millions of people around the world. maybe paige’s dad loved the cure. maybe her best friend from high school had always played it in the car. logically, rationally, there was no way that paige had been talking about her, with that sort of fond, faraway look in her eyes.
but, watching paige up there, singing azzi’s favorite song with a bashful flush on her cheeks as if she knew azzi had snuck in to see her, azzi’s heart knew better. which, of course, left her reeling at the idea that paige would refer to her as her favorite person, when azzi found herself hesitant to even call paige her friend, for fear of caring too much about something so decidedly fragile.
as paige closed out the track, eyes glinting, azzi pushed it all down– the song, its implications, the hope-against-hope in her chest. she felt scared, and out of her depth, and so in love. and she knew what she needed to do.
the house lights flickered back on as full court press exited the stage, illuminating the flow of the crowd as everyone shuffled towards the lobby in a daze. azzi found herself weaving through sweaty concert-goers for the second time that evening, moving against the current of bodies until she reached the security guard standing solemnly in front of the little alcove that led towards backstage. taking a breath, azzi broke into her famously charismatic press smile, the one that almost always made people want to give her things she wasn’t technically allowed to have.
“sorry, sir, is backstage this way?”
the man raised an eyebrow, unimpressed. “only authorized personnel are allowed beyond this point.”
half-hysterically, azzi took note of the fact that the security guard looked alarmingly like a slightly younger version of geno. she stifled a laugh, fixing the man with a look of sheer desperation.
“right, so sorry, i just– i’m a friend of paige’s? i was hoping to surprise her,” azzi winced at the uncertainty in her own voice, the way her breath caught on the word friend. not exactly the most convincing effort, but she wasn’t particularly keen to explain the markedly intimate nature of her and paige’s relationship to this sixty-five year-old carbon copy of her fucking coach who was looking at her like he wanted to drop kick her all the way back to storrs.
“right. and i’m pierce brosnan,” he countered, clearing his throat. “ma’am, like i said, i absolutely cannot let you past this point without clearance. if you keep asking, i’m going to have to ask you to leave.”
no. fuck. this was so not how this was supposed to go. frantically, azzi pictured herself trudging back to her hotel room, horny and petulant, too prideful to text paige and fill her in on her failed effort. hell the fuck no. she hadn’t come all this way for nothing. shaking out her shoulders, she decided to attempt to play the c-list celebrity card– a definitive last resort.
“sir, i’m actually-”
“ma’am, i’m going to have to escort you-”
“bro, what is going on out h- azzi?”
azzi froze as the security guard moved to escort her out, locking eyes with paige over his shoulder as the blonde made her way out of the hallway and into the light. she looked- fuck. she had changed into sweats and an old hoodie, but her hair was still wild and staticky, her makeup still thick and smudged. she smiled at azzi earnestly, laughing at her predicament, her eyes widening in surprise.
“wait, wait, stop, man, i know her,” paige exclaimed as she jogged over to the security guard, laying her hand on his shoulder in order to pull him away from azzi. “it’s chill.”
despite her embarrassment, azzi couldn’t stop herself from gloating, lifting her chin up stubbornly as she made eye contact with not-geno. “see? i told you, we’re friends.”
the man harrumphed, rolling his eyes as he lumbered away. azzi watched him go with a satisfied smirk until she felt calloused fingers brush lightly over her palm. she inhaled sharply, turning back towards paige as she fought back a stupid grin.
“az- what the fuck?” paige was laughing, the corners of her eyes crinkling. “what are you doing here? why didn’t you just text me that you were coming?”
azzi began to laugh too, her chest heaving as she imagined a tweet: uconn star azzi fudd seen being forcibly removed from punk show in los angeles. she wheezed, raising her hand to grasp onto paige’s bicep as they both shook with laughter.
“i- i wanted to surprise you, since i play ucla tomorrow and i was in the area, but that guy seemed to think that i was going to sneak backstage and tie you up or something,” azzi took a few deep breaths, calming herself. she met paige’s eyes, softening.
paige’s earnest laughter shifted into a shit-eating grin. “i mean, you can tie me up anytime.”
azzi rolled her eyes, desperately assuming nonchalance in order to bury the heat that rose in her gut in response to paige’s stupid line. “bruh, you’re so dumb.”
“aw, come on,” paige groaned, pulling azzi deeper into the alcove and into her arms. her hands snaked up azzi’s back, soothing. azzi froze. “i’m sorry. i’m so glad you’re here. seriously.”
azzi opened her mouth, closed it, opened it again. paige smelled so good, like hairspray and her woody cologne, and she was looking down at azzi through her eyeliner like she was the most precious thing in the world.
god, azzi loved her. it was fucking terrifying.
and of course, just as alarm bells began to go off in azzi’s head, paige opened her stupid pink mouth and asked, “did you like the last song?”
azzi balked, scrambling to feign confusion. “oh, you mean paper scars?”
“no, the cover.” paige corrected, smiling softly.
azzi’s eyes widened. “uh, i mean- yeah, of course. i love that song.”
paige blinked, her lashes fanning across her cheek for a split second. “i know you do.”
fuck. paige was looking at her like- like she had something serious to say, which was not a look that paige wore often (she once told azzi that she thought the greatest human inventions of all time were waterproof eyeliner, the original fortnite map, and slim jims). she was blushing, and her hands were still running up and down azzi’s back, and though they were partially hidden from view by the wall enclosing the alcove, someone could probably snap a photo of them from the main floor of the venue if they really wanted to. despite the warmth that flooded her chest as she settled into paige’s arms, azzi felt an overwhelming urge to run.
“azzi, i-”
“can we go to your dressing room?” azzi blurted out, a little too loudly, as if to drown out the pounding of her heart.
paige paused. “uh, yeah? of course.” she exhaled, seeming to remember where she was. but she still fixed azzi with a puzzled expression, concern lacing the corners of her eyes. “are you okay, though?”
“yeah, yes, i just- i need-” azzi cut herself off, frustrated. she looked paige up and down, dragging her eyes across her neck, her jawline, the fullness of her bottom lip.
there was only one way to channel all that she felt for paige into something truly comprehensible– or, at least, only one way that her brain deemed acceptable at the moment. fuck this. “i need you. now.”
paige’s mouth dropped open, caught off guard. “oh, like, you mean- right now?”
as she felt the static buzz of desire drown out everything else in her brain, azzi lowered her eyelids, her mouth parting ever-so-slightly. “yeah. right now.”
paige stared at her, chest heaving. for a split second, azzi feared that she had said the wrong thing, that she had come on too strong. she just- it was the honest-to-god truth. it had been weeks since she’d seen paige in person, and she needed her, to an embarrassingly desperate extent– never mind the fact that she was fully unprepared to face whatever it was that paige was planning to say to her moments before. she held her breath.
finally, the corners of paige’s mouth turned up into a cocky smirk, weighted reverence layering itself over the tenderness in her gaze. her eyes dropped to azzi’s lips.
“after you, then, princess.”
–
the hurried walk to paige’s dressing room was almost comical, both women practically tripping over themselves in their effort to reach the end of the dark hallway as quickly as possible. paige kept looking back at azzi over her shoulder as she dodged members of the strike crew, as if to make sure that she hadn’t lost her.
once they reached the dressing room, azzi tumbled in after paige, whirling around as the blonde swiftly locked the door behind them. she barely gave paige time to breathe before she stepped up into her space, determined.
paige let out a breathy chuckle, settling into the moment. even after all this time, it still caught azzi off guard how easily paige could go from sweet and gentle to confident and smug as soon as azzi got her pinned up against a wall. it drove her crazy. she couldn’t get enough.
paige pouted, teasing. “desperate, are we?”
“shut up, shut all the way up, jesus christ.” azzi grabbed paige’s collar and slammed her against the door, bruising.
paige’s eyes widened in surprise, lips parting. but before she could get a word out, azzi pulled her into a searing kiss.
and, yeah. azzi remembered why it was so easy to tell herself that this was all she kept coming back for. she reveled in the feeling of paige’s tongue parting of the seam of her lips, her hands sliding down her lower back to palm at her ass. it was more than good– it was completely unsteadying, all-consuming. it was the best azzi had ever had. she hastily helped paige lift her hoodie over her head, leaving the blonde bare save for her black sports bra.
“fuck.”
paige tilted her head to the side as azzi began mouthing down her throat, biting at her skin. she loved this, loved making paige’s effortlessly confident facade crumble into breathy sighs and high-pitched moans. she lathed her tongue across the blonde’s collarbone, pressing down intentionally.
returning to paige’s mouth, azzi kissed her deep, fast. she felt a bit unhinged, wild with adrenaline and desire and something a bit softer than the moment warranted, something she was starting to suspect had always been there. she wove her hands into paige’s hair and pulled, the way she knew the blonde liked. paige moaned sweetly against her mouth, and azzi throbbed.
pulling away from paige slightly, azzi began to fumble with the waistline of the older woman’s sweats, sinking to her knees before her in the same way that paige had on stage earlier in the night. she looked up at the blonde through her lashes, questioning.
“is this- is it ok if i go down on you?”
paige’s chest heaved, her blue eyes flashing down at azzi like lightning under the remnants of her smoky eye. “please.”
that was all azzi needed to hear. she shoved paige’s sweatpants off, toying with the band of her boxers. she dipped her head to nip at paige’s inner thighs, littering her skin with open-mouthed kisses just shy of where the blonde truly needed them. paige squirmed impatiently.
“az, c’mon- ah,” paige broke off as azzi licked a long stripe up her clothed heat, making direct eye contact with the older woman as her face contorted in pleasure. humming in satisfaction, azzi shimmied paige’s boxers down until she was bare and aching in the cool air of the dressing room, the physical manifestation of her desire pooling low between her legs. the sight made azzi’s head spin.
slowly, deliberately, she began to lap at paige’s clit, applying consistent pressure while simultaneously stopping short of bringing her close to the edge. every so often, she dipped down to paige’s entrance, tonguing around the wetness there until paige began to whine above her. she kept it light, teasing– she wanted this to last as long as possible. she never wanted to forget this feeling.
after a few minutes, paige began to squirm in earnest, her patience running thin. “azzi, i need-” she broke off with a gasp as azzi pressed down intently. “please, pretty girl, you look so gorgeous like this, missed you so–ah– much.”
fuck. the praise made azzi’s blood run red-hot, leading her to squeeze her legs together in a futile attempt to relieve the pressure in her core. she refocused, determined to make paige wait just a little bit longer.
she dropped a messy, open-mouthed kiss to paige’s clit, shooting the blonde a coy look. paige keened.
“god, look at you, on your knees for me. so–fuck– so fucking perfect,” paige rasped, desperate. “please, baby.”
azzi pulled back ever-so-slightly. “please what, paige?”
paige writhed underneath azzi’s hands, searching for further stimulation. the blonde let out a broken moan. “please make me come, azzi, i need it. need you. please.”
and, well, despite her best efforts to bury it, azzi was in love. she would give her anything she wanted.
finally, she resumed her previous ministrations, this time with a renowned fervor. she wanted to get paige there, wanted to be good for her, wanted to make her feel good. the thought played on loop in her head as paige began to tremble beneath her, the blonde’s hands snaking their way into azzi’s curls as her head tipped back against the door.
“fuck, azzi, i’m gonna fucking-”
azzi smiled, shifting back to look up at paige one last time. “come for me, paige.”
paige did as she was told, tipping over the edge with a high pitched moan as she grasped onto azzi’s roots. azzi dutifully worked her through it, until paige tugged her back up the length of her body and pulled her into an embrace, tucking her head into azzi’s neck. azzi kissed her head, letting out a soft laugh.
“good?”
paige groaned, lifting her head to meet azzi’s gaze, looking positively buoyant. “you’re a menace.”
azzi felt her heart stutter– once, twice– at the look on paige’s face, open and adoring. she had hoped that sex would make the lightness in her chest dissipate, but as paige leaned down to nudge their noses together before kissing her softly, all azzi could think was, fuck. i fucking love her.
luckily, as paige deepened the kiss to bite down gently on azzi’s bottom lip, the neglected ache between her legs won out over the sappiness building around her heart. paige dug her hand into azzi’s hair, gripping the back of her head, and azzi let out a soft, broken sound against paige’s lips.
they kissed for a moment longer, drinking each other in, before paige pulled away just enough to gently lead azzi over to the worn couch opposite her dressing room mirror. azzi peeled off the rest of her clothes on the way, leaving herself completely naked and flushed under paige’s gaze. she felt the bare skin of her back hit the cushions of the sofa as paige climbed on top of her, dipping her head to azzi’s throat and nudging her thigh between her legs. azzi moaned, dizzy with need.
“paige.”
paige began a slow grind up onto azzi’s clit, steady and sure. “what do you want, beautiful?”
azzi screwed her eyes shut, attempting to gather her thoughts. paige pressed a lingering kiss behind her ear. “i- jesus.”
“tell me.”
azzi let out a breath. “anything. anything you want.”
she felt paige’s mouth turn up into a smile against her skin. “you sure?”
“yes. please.”
suddenly, paige’s thigh was gone from between azzi’s legs, replaced by her deft, calloused fingers. she dipped down to trace around azzi’s entrance, gathering the wetness there and bringing it back up to press tight circles into azzi’s clit.
azzi let out a choked sound, reminiscent of a sob. it was ridiculous, really, how well paige knew azzi’s body by now, how good she could make her feel in a matter of minutes. as paige’s hand continued to work, azzi found herself drunk with pleasure, giddy and thankful that caroline had dragged her out to that stupid show so many months prior. god bless the wings, she thought. even though your music is trash.
just as azzi’s moans began to pitch up in volume, paige pulled her hand away abruptly. azzi gasped at the sudden lack of feeling.
“paige, what-”
“sit up.”
azzi complied, following paige as the blonde angled her towards the mirror on the opposite side of the room, its border of makeup lights illuminating the small space. paige met her eyes in the mirror.
“you said i could do anything i wanted,” paige started, her voice low and rough. “i want you to see how gorgeous you look when i fuck you.”
azzi’s mouth fell open dumbly. she- ok. yeah. this was happening.
paige held eye contact in the mirror, gazing at her intensely. “is that ok?”
“yes.”
it was like a dam broke. somehow, azzi ended up in paige’s lap, with her back to the blonde and her tits bouncing obscenely in the mirror across the room. she watched as she moved up and down atop paige’s fingers repeatedly, the blonde leaning back against the couch with an easy, confident grin as she watched azzi work herself over.
“look at you, so needy for me,” paige commented. azzi moaned. “you’re perfect, azzi. a goddamn work of art.”
azzi’s chest heaved. she could feel herself rapidly tumbling towards release, uninhibited. she squeezed her eyes shut for a moment before reopening them to stare back at paige in the mirror. paige smiled.
“i love it when you’re good like this,” paige admitted, shaking her head reverently. “i think about it, you know. when i’m on the road and i can’t see you. i think about you, in my lap, taking my fingers so fucking well.”
azzi let out a sob, overcome. “fuck, paige, i’m gonna co-me.”
paige wrapped her free arm around azzi’s waist and ghosted over her clit, and that was all it took. azzi came with a broken gasp, her chest heaving.
i love her, she thought. i love her. what the fuck am i going to do.
when it was over, paige cradled her to her chest, stroking her hair. azzi shivered, considering the facts of the situation: she and paige just had mind-blowing sex in her fucking dressing room like some kind of shitty porno (awesome), paige was at the beginning of a cross-country tour, meaning she would be all over the place for the next six months (daunting), and azzi was a fucking basketball player with a public image to uphold, who was also conveniently head-over-heels in love with the blonde idiot currently giving her an affectionately irritating review of some stupid press release she saw about azzi the other day (horrific).
azzi was so, undeniably, irrevocably, fucked.