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⠀ ⧽ summary ˒ y/n's never felt more drained by school, and when she goes to finally relax with her girlfriend, she finds her with another girl, causing her to go seek comfort elsewhere ( grumpy!azzi x sunshine!reader )
⠀ ⧽ word count ˒ 1.3k
⠀ ⧽ content warnings ˒ reader's girlfriend (ex) cheated, crying, kind of rushed, also not proofread
⠀ ⧽ e's preview ˒ originally i was gonna make azzi be her best friend but thought that was done a lot so this happened instead. but i'm ngl i'd still be down to make a fic like that
⠀ ⧽ links ˒ azzi masterlist
She might’ve recognized the signs had she been more coherent this week, maybe even the past month. With professors conspiring to make their students' lives a living basket case, she had no other choice but to think about exams, projects, and a pile of homework her stats professor served to her on a silver platter.
But now, walking down the street after running out of her girlfriend’s, ex-girlfriend’s, apartment, it was all she could think about. The dry messages that rarely lit up her phone screen, the rescheduling of cancelled plans, only for them to get pushed back again, the subtle eyerolls whenever she mentioned hanging out over the weekend. God, how could she be so stupid?
Y/n started dating Jess at the end of the previous school year, a time when she came into her life, and y/n thought she was living in some sort of movie. But the honeymoon phase of a new relationship passed quickly, and by the time the fall semester of their senior year started, she’d never felt more alone and apart from her girlfriend.
However, with midterms quickly approaching and finals looming just beyond those exams, she didn’t have time to see what was in front of her face.
She barely talked to Jess this week, having thrown herself into her studies without much care for anything else, so it wasn’t a surprise that the first thing she did when she could breathe was head over to her girlfriend’s apartment.
She held a bouquet of tulips, Jess’s favorite flower, in one hand, a bag of their favorite snacks in the other as she climbed up the steps of the building. She slipped her key into the door, pushing it open as if it were second nature, kicking her shoes off on the small rug that sat off to the side, finally lifting her gaze only for it to fall on two figures on the couch.
“Oh- I um- well-”
Jess and the other girl, someone y/n vaguely remembered meeting once or twice, quickly broke their lips apart, both of their eyes widening in shock.
“Baby…”
“No, I should’ve texted, you know?” Y/n giggled awkwardly, fumbling for her shoes. “Completely my fault! I got a project I should do anyway.”
Before Jess could get out another word, the other girl was out the door, racing down the steps, leading to where she is now; tears sliding down her cheeks and walking wherever her feet were taking her. Subconsciously, she knew what she was seeking: comfort from her older sister, who was only one place at this day and time, her best friend’s apartment.
Y/n had known Azzi from the first time she visited Alex at school, her signature pout and furrowed eyebrows that made her look like something had wronged her in the moments prior to you seeing her. She grew accustomed to her dry texts and blunt answers, her tone always seeming as if she’d rather be anywhere else.
Her knuckles ached as she knocked on the door to Azzi’s apartment, looking down at the floor as the tears continued flowing down her red cheeks, bouncing anxiously while she waited. It took a minute, but then Azzi was standing in front of her, left hand clutching the door as she leaned against the frame on her right.
Y/n’s eyes swept over her, studying the buffalo check pajama pants Azzi wore as a second skin, the black, cropped tank top that had a few holes along its hem, and her hair pulled back lazily. Her breath hitched slightly, words stuttering as she spoke, “I-is my sister here?”
The girl’s whole demeanor seemed to soften at the sight of her best friend’s little sister, someone she’d harbored feelings for but always pushed them down into the depths of her stomach in fear of hurting either one of them. She noticed her tears first, both the ones that trailed down her face and the ones that threatened to follow them.
“Uh, no, she left an hour ago. You okay?”
Y/n sniffled, fingers slipping beneath her sleeves before crossing her arms over her chest and nodding, “Yeah, sorry to bother you, Az.”
She turned on her heels immediately, navigating her way to the stairs. Her actions were halted as she heard her name called out softly, turning to see Azzi right behind her, her hand reaching to rest lightly on her bicep, “You wanna come inside?”
Everything in her screamed yes, to stay and break down like she’d been needing to since she saw her girlfriend tangled up with someone else, to be held by someone she knew was nice and would take care of her. But a tiny, tiny piece in her mind told her no, told her to high tail it out of there and find her sister so she wouldn’t have to burden the girl that stood a few inches ahead.
Hesitantly, she nodded, allowing Azzi to lead her into her apartment, take her soaked-through coat off, hang it on a hook by the doorway, slide her shoes and socks off, and hand her a fresh, warm set of clothes that she could change into instead of staying in her cold, wet ones.
When y/n stepped out of the bathroom, Azzi already had a mug of warm tea sitting on the coffee table while she lounged on the sofa she had, a sweatshirt now covering her upperbody. Y/n sat next to her, still stiff like the thought of her being here was the greatest intrusion Azzi had encountered.
The moment Azzi’s hand brushed the girl’s shoulder, she crumbled, letting out a choked sob and leaning into Azzi as if her life depended on her. Azzi held her carefully, pulling her close so y/n could faintly smell the soap she used after practice earlier that day.
Her tears dampened the fabric of the newly washed sweatshirt, another thing the girl made a mental note of to apologize for once she got her emotions under control. But for now, all she could do was weakly clutch at it, burying her head into Azzi’s shoulder, enough tears pouring out to fill a river.
Minutes passed before she could finally calm down, sobs turning into small sniffles, her body no longer shaking like a leaf. Azzi’s hand still rubbed small circles into y/n’s lower back, just enough pressure for her to notice it was there but not enough to cause any pain.
“Hey…”
Y/n turned her head for their gazes to lock, a new heat brought to her cheeks when she did, “Hi.”
“You feel better?”
She nodded, “I think so. I’m sorry about your sweatshirt.”
“Don’t apologize.” Azzi delicately wiped the remaining tear stains off y/n’s cheeks, giving her a weak smile, “You wanna tell me what happened?”
That one sentence sent all of her memories rushing toward her like a semi-truck, eyes filling up again with tears, but she never felt more numb. Her teeth sank into her bottom lip, drawing little drops of blood after a few seconds. Azzi’s hand moved to tug it free of its hold, “If you don’t want to talk about it, you don’t have to. Don’t bite your lip, though.”
“Jess cheated on me.”
Azzi blinked, shock coursing through her at the words she heard, “She what-?”
“Walked in on her after my class today, some girl on the soccer team, I think, I dunno.” Her head lay back down on Azzi’s shoulder, her sole comfort now being her sister’s best friend.
“She didn’t deserve you, princess.”
“I should’ve been around more recently, I’ve been so-”
“Hey, don’t do that to yourself. You were stressed, she should’ve been there for you.”
A tiny yawn escaped y/n’s mouth, the events of the day wearing her thin. The other girl noticed immediately, brushing her hair behind her ear, “Tired?”
Y/n only nodded, curling a little bit further into her, “Go to sleep. I’ll call you, sister, okay?”
Azzi Fudd hadn’t planned to be in the front row of a sold-out concert two nights after dropping a career-high for UConn. She hadn’t expected to be recognized by so many fans in the crowd either or did she expect the surreal way her heart pounded as the lights went dim, the stage lit up, and the person she’d quietly crushed on for the better part of a year stepped into the spotlight.
You.
You in baggy jeans, unbuttoned shirt, diamond studs catching the light as you adjusted your mic. The stadium was already screaming your name before you even sang a note. And yet somehow, the moment your eyes scanned the crowd and found hers, Azzi swore you paused, just for half a second longer than you should have, her lungs folded in on themselves. She couldn’t explain it. Couldn’t control it. She just smiled back, small and shaky, the way someone smiles at the sun from too close.
She knew who you were, of course. Everyone did. The Grammy buzz, the chart-dominating singles, the way your voice had a million girls swearing you were singing just to them. But Azzi had heard you talk once on a podcast, off-guard and laughing and she couldn’t stop thinking about how shy you were in contrast to your stage presence. She liked that. Liked you, in a way that was dangerous because you probably didn’t even know she existed. Or so she thought.
The band played a soft intro behind you, an unmistakable melody. Azzi blinked.
Justin Bieber’s “One Less Lonely Girl.”
A cover?
Your band started playing and your voice fell into the first verse.
“There’s gonna be one less lonely girl…
One less lonely girl…”
The crowd swayed. Phones lit up like stars. But you… you kept your eyes trained near the front row. On her.
Azzi sat frozen. Paige had leaned over to whisper something teasing, but Azzi didn’t hear it. Didn’t process anything beyond the echo of your voice and the way you tilted your head, gentle, charming, grinning like a secret.
“How many I told you’s and start overs…
How many tears you let hit the floor?”
You didn’t rush it. Each lyric was smooth and soulful, softer than the original, richer in its delivery. The way you walked slowly across the stage, sneakers squeaking lightly against the floor, had the crowd watching every step, but Azzi’s heart started hammering harder when you paused at the edge of the stage, mic still in hand, and made a beeline for the stairs.
The arena screamed.
Azzi didn’t move.
You stepped down, security gently parting the crowd. Your eyes found hers, warm, certain, so direct it almost felt unfair and she could barely breathe when you held your hand out and said, just loud enough for her to hear, “Come with me?”
Paige’s hand clamped down on her shoulder like ‘go’, and Azzi stumbled to her feet, laughing in disbelief as she took your hand. The moment your fingers wrapped around hers, her skin turned electric. Her knees nearly gave out.
You didn’t let go.
You led her up the stairs of the stage like you’d planned this all along, like this moment had been written into the setlist. The band looped the chorus as you reached center stage. A single wooden stool sat beneath a soft spotlight.
Azzi blinked. You smiled, pressing a bouquet of white roses and baby’s breath into her hands as you whispered, “Sit down.”
She did. Awkward, flushed, barely able to look at you as the crowd lost their minds.
You returned to your mic. Took a breath. And began again, this time, all for her.
“Saw so many pretty faces…
Now all I see is you…”
You circled the stool with ease, your voice wrapped in velvet now. You touched her shoulder, briefly, like grounding her was necessary. You were still singing, still moving, dancing just a little, playful and teasing, but you didn’t take your eyes off her for long. Every time you hit a soft note, you smiled like she was the only one in the room.
Azzi tried to keep it together. She really did. But you were leaning into the bridge now, singing about how no one else’s arms would ever need to hold this “lonely girl” again and she couldn’t stop her grin from breaking. Her cheeks burned so bad she covered half her face with the bouquet. You reached out and tugged the roses down gently, just to see her again.
“Christmas wasn’t merry, 14th of February
Not one of them spent with you…”
She melted.
The moment you dropped to one knee beside her and crooned that “Don’t need these other pretty faces like I need you,” she nearly lost all motor function. You leaned in, almost close enough to kiss her cheek, but you didn’t, not yet. Just a brush of your breath. A whisper of presence.
And then the chorus kicked again, joyous, loud, and you took her hand and spun once with it before returning to the mic. The whole arena danced with you. The song ended with a flourish, your vocals pristine, strong.
“I can fix up your broken heart…
I can make you believe…”
You looked directly at Azzi.
“There’s gonna be one less lonely girl.”
The crowd exploded. Azzi sat frozen, the bouquet in her lap, stunned and spinning and floored. You walked over, reached for her again.
This time, she didn’t hesitate.
As you walked her back down the stairs and into the crowd, security parting a path again, Azzi could only hear the pounding of her heart in her ears. She didn’t care that everyone was filming. Didn’t care that Paige and KK were laughing themselves breathless behind her.
You’d sung to her.
Only her.
And it was going to take a hell of a long time to recover from that.
Azzi could still hear the echoes of the song as she was gently guided offstage by a member of your crew, bouquet still in hand, heart practically thudding out of her chest, every nerve in her body still lit up like the arena behind her hadn’t stopped screaming your name. Her steps were slow, uncertain, like she wasn’t entirely sure the floor under her was real.
KK and Paige were waiting in the wings.
Actually… they were waiting in the wings, phone in hand, recording Azzi as they try not to collapse from laughter.
“Yooo, someone check her pulse!” KK shouted the moment she saw her, cackling.
“You’re not good,” Paige said, slapping a hand over her chest in fake concern. “You look like you ‘bout to pass out.”
“I didn’t know what to do! What was I supposed to do?”
“Breathe, maybe?” KK deadpanned.
Azzi glared at them, but it lacked heat. She still hadn’t really caught up to the moment. Her mouth was dry. Her fingers were sore from holding the bouquet so tightly. Her legs felt weirdly heavy, like they weren’t totally hers.
She didn’t even notice you coming backstage until the hallway crowd parted and someone said, “Coming through.”
And there you were.
Not just the voice. Not just the stage presence. But you, in all your off-stage softness, gliding down the corridor with your shirt sticking to your collarbone from the lights, water bottle in one hand, towel around your neck. You stopped in front of Azzi like you’d done it a hundred times.
“Hey,” you said.
Azzi blinked. “...Hey.”
You smiled, gentle and warm, with just a hint of nerves peeking behind your lashes. “You okay? You looked a little… stunned.”
KK snorted in the background.
Azzi took a shaky breath. “I’m… I’m okay. Yeah. Just—um.” She looked down at the roses again like they might give her an answer. “No one’s ever done anything like that before.”
You stepped closer. “Good. I’m glad I was the first.” That sentence alone knocked the breath out of her lungs. “And hopefully the last.”
She made a sound, part laugh, part soft panic, then shifted awkwardly on her feet. “I didn’t even know you knew who I was.”
“Are you serious?” Your eyebrows rose. “I’m a UConn fan. I’ve been watching you play since freshman year. Went to one of your games.”
Azzi’s jaw dropped. “Wait, what—”
“I was in the third row. You dropped thirty-four, and I turned to my manager and said, ‘She plays like she doesn’t know she’s hot.’”
Azzi covered her face with the bouquet again.
You leaned in slightly. “Also, I may or may not have asked my manager to let me know if you ever came to one of my shows.”
Azzi’s hand dropped slowly. “You what?”
You nodded, smile smaller now. “She texted me your name during soundcheck. And I thought… if I didn’t at least try something, I’d regret it.”
Azzi stared at you, speechless, dazed in the most beautiful way.
Then you reached into your pocket, pulled out a sharpie, and uncapped it with your teeth before tugging on her bouquet just enough to sign the paper wrapping.
“There,” you said, handing it back. “Now it’s official.”
“What is?”
“My number.” You grinned. “You can text me whenever you want now.”
Paige gasped like she’d just witnessed a marriage proposal.
Azzi could only nod, cheeks blazing, smile tugging at the corners of her lips like she didn’t know whether to laugh or combust. Her voice finally returned in the form of a breathy, “Okay.”
You tilted your head. “Okay as in you’ll text me?”
“Okay as in I can’t believe this is real and I’m going to replay this night for the next twenty years.”
You smiled so wide it softened every feature on your face.
“Good,” you said again. “I was hoping you would.”
With one last glance and a wink that almost knocked her over, you walked down the corridor toward the green room, crew trailing behind.
Azzi turned around in slow motion, clutching the signed bouquet like it was a newborn.
Paige was grinning like a proud aunt. “Soooo… dinner plans?”
KK leaned in. “Nah. She’s skipping straight to the wedding plans.”
Anya is live and ready to show you everything. Watch her strip, dance, and perform exclusive shows just for you. Interact in real-time and make your fantasies come true.
✓ Live Streaming✓ Interactive Chat✓ Private Shows✓ HD Quality✓ Free Actions
Free to watch • No registration required • HD streaming
This is a Canon 35AL, which I brought back in 2010 as a party camera when go clubbing with friends. Sadly the camera door can’t be closed properly anymore, so I need use heavy duty tape. The battery contact wasn’t so good anymore so I putted a metal paper clip between both batteries, e voila Frankenstein is born. ;)
