#Pack of 10 chocolates
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Jainco Star Empty Chocolate Boxes. Ideal for Chocolate gifting during weddings, festivals and all occasions. The perfect way to make your gift stand out. Crafted from premium paper & cardboard. The boxes are proudly made in India.Ideal For Birthday Gift for girlfriend boyfriend, Gift for Husband Wife and Birthday Gift for Girls & Boys With Love.
#Jainco Star chocolates#Solid chocolate party box#Brown party box#Pack of 10 chocolates#Chocolate gift boxes#Event chocolate supplies#Premium chocolate packaging#Brown gift boxes#Party favors chocolate#Bulk chocolate boxes#Festive chocolate gifts#Chocolate treat boxes#Decorative chocolate packaging#Celebration chocolates#Affordable chocolate gifts
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my five surviving braincells when something remotely good happens:
#in other news… wORK IS OVER PARTY!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!#man. i’m s o tired. i can’t believe i survived almost 2 whole years at this job…#huh. come to think of it�� i started tling idol sengen before i even got this job lol. and i’m only 3/5 of the way through it…#can’t believe the idol sengen grind->hiatus->grind(?) outlives my time at [withheld] company…#i did end up spending a cool 20 mins cleaning out my work locker though. i found so many treasures i didn’t even know i had in there#like. there was an unopened 3-pack of wet tissues a n d an unopened box of pens that i don’t recall buying#and ofc the 3 random sponges i ‘liberated’ from the lab. don’t tell my boss lmao#w a i t now that i think about it i should’ve taken at least 1 vial of (allegedly) carcinogenic sand for the memories. dammit.#oh well. what’s done is done i suppose. i did receive way more chocolate than i could ever eat though…#y. yeah. i guess i’ll miss my coworkers (a little). they were fun to annoy every day. except for the new guy bc i don’t like him at all lol#i have never met someone who lacked as much common sense as he. i think he’s gonna get canned before he’s able to resign on his own terms#dude could be spoonfed through every single step of the testing process and *still* mess up somewhere smh#but no. this isn’t about him. even though he is the final straw that led to my decision to resign#hm. looking back on it now. i think i was pretty good at my job for the most part when it came to the things i could do#or maybe i was too good at it. like. to the point where even more experienced analysts were coming to me in search of help#prolly gonna miss being one of the very best (out of like a grand total of 10 people at the lab) at doing ftir-related tests#ehehehehehehe i wonder if that workstation will continue to stay as organised as it is now that i’m gone#a n d i wonder what my coworkers will do now that they can’t ask me for ms excel help for the smallest of things lol#sometimes i just wanna tell them to g o g o o g l e i t ! ! ! when they call me over for it. but alas.#can’t believe these guys know how to use c h a t g p t and not ms excel (despite having it on their resume) smh#omg wow this got long and incoherent sorry guys i think i need some sleep lol. idol sengen next week..#…maybe…? no promises though!!!!!
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Queen Anne's are so good. I will die on this hill.
#food#food mention#I don't know if they're an American thing -Or a Southern thing- but Queen Anne.. Goddamn delicious.#Milk chocolate with cordial cherries combo? Peak.#It's almost midnight. I'm tryna keep some of them for tomorrow.#But also I'm writin' Caprice and stuck at another point. 7k words in.#Whisper was stuck at a point 2k words in and managed to wiggle past it. Now I'm about to make Clayton and Caprice graverobbers.#the shepherd of the system#Now I just want the rest of the Queen Anne's...#Yes I know the brand is Queen Anne and not the product but dammit these will always been Queen Anne's to me.#Also i still remember a time when the only type of cherry covered was milk chocolate.#Edit: Yeah I ate them all. They only come in a pack of 10 in my defense.
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i just spent so much on food in such a short amount of time wow. good thing meal voucher isn't real money
#10 reais for a pastel at the fair (v good should have bought a caçulinha too tho) 12 reais for a chocolate cone (ridiculous that shit used#to be 8 reais) then at uni 11 reais for grape juice (which i regret) and a mentos pack (which i don't im addicted to the thing)#33 reais in about 20 minutes and for what. i actually need to get a hold of myself i am eating through my voucher too fast#not to mention i spent like 30 reais on ifood earlier today. but that was on my moms card so it doesnt count#diary entry
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Olympic Chocolate Muffins! (since the recipe is paywalled on WaPo)
Cool the muffins and ganache completely before assembly, about 30-40 minutes
Makes 12 muffins
Muffin Ingredients:
¾ cup (180 ml) whole or reduced fat milk
¼ cup (60 ml) water
2 teaspoons instant coffee powder
½ cup (50 grams) unsweetened cocoa powder
4 tablespoons (56 grams) unsalted butter, cut into pieces
½ cup + 1/3 cup (145 total grams) bittersweet or semisweet chocolate chunks
2 cups (250 grams) AP flour
1 tablespoon baking powser
¼ teaspoon fine salt
½ cup (110 grams) packed dark brown sugar
½ cup (100 grams) granulated sugar
¼ cup (60 ml) neutral oil
2 large eggs, room temp
1 teaspoon vanilla extract
1/3 cup (60 grams) chopped milk chocolate, plus more for topping
Ganache Ingredients:
2/3 cup (115 grams) bittersweet or semisweet chocolate chunks
½ cup (120 ml) heavy cream
1/8 teaspoon fine salt
Directions
Position rack in the middle of the oven, preheat 400 degrees Fahrenheit. Line a regular sized muffin pan with liners.
In a small saucepan over medium heat, combine milk, water, and instant coffee. Bring to a simmer, whisking occasionally.
Add cocoa powder and whisk.
Decrease heat to low, add ½ cup (85 grams) of the chocolate chunks and butter, whisk until melted and smooth.
Transfer to a large bowl and cool slightly
In a medium bowl, whisk flour, baking powder, and salt.
To chocolate mixture, whisk in brown sugar, granulated sugar, oil, eggs, and vanilla.
Add about 1/3 of the flour mixture, whisk until incorporated
Add remaining flour, folding with a spatula until no streaks remain.
Fold in remaining 1/3 cup (60 grams) chocolate chunks and chopped milk chocolate, until just combined. Do not overmix.
Using a ¼ cup scoop or measuring cup, divide batter among 12 muffin cups, filling to the top of the pan.
Sprinkle additional chocolate chunks on top.
Transfer pan to oven, and immediately reduce oven temperature to 375 degrees Fahrenheit.
Bake for 22-24 minutes, or until a toothpick comes out clean. Start on ganache now
Let muffins cool in pan for 10 minutes, then use a knife or piping tip to cut an approximately ¾ inch wide hole in the center of each muffin. (use the centers as ice cream topping or eat now!)
Let muffins cool completely.
GANACHE: in a small saucepan over medium-low heat, combine chocolate chunks, heavy cream, and salt. Cook, stirring frequently, until melted and smooth. Remove from heat and let cool completely.
Once muffins and ganache are completely cool, spoon or pipe ganache into the center of the muffin, until slightly overflowed. Serve immediately.
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𝒉𝒆𝒂𝒅𝒄𝒂𝒏𝒐𝒏𝒔 𝒃𝒚 𝒃𝒓𝒊𝒔𝒆𝒓𝒐𝒚𝒂
• 𝒐𝒍𝒅𝒎𝒂𝒏!𝒍𝒐𝒈𝒂𝒏 𝒙 𝒘𝒊𝒇𝒆!𝒓𝒆𝒂𝒅𝒆𝒓
+18 minors do interact.
@divider by @anitalenia
• Oldman Logan who often finds himself gazing at you when you talk and explain things with your hand gestures because his heart is hammering against his chest.
• Oldman Logan who never looks at other women because they are nonexistent to him. He keeps your picture in his limo while he works and during breaks he calls you. He doesn’t go without messaging you few times a day before coming home.
• Oldman Logan who compliments you, touches your hands in his and rubs them together kissing them because for him you’re a goddess, his wife, his Angel who takes care for him. His words flutter your heart and you can’t even explain how much you love him. Only show him everyday by cooking for him, making sure your little house is clean, doing his laundry because you want to do it all. But most of all… you love to spend time with him.
• Oldman Logan who allows you to sit on his lap, when he reads. Be it newspapers, books or anything else. You sit on his thigh and cuddle yourself close to him. His arm is always around you and keeps you close.
• Oldman Logan who is often haunted by nightmares and bad dreams so he often passes out in his armchair, but you always wake him gently taking his hand leading him back to the bed. He then snuggles close to you, hiding his face against your neck having your arms and legs around him. Like that he doesn’t growl, or awakens suddenly from a bad dream. You make it all go away
• Oldman Logan whose body is not as young anymore, his skin is littered with scars and his healing factor is very slow. You kiss away his worries and he lets you. Your kissing warms his chest so much.
• Oldman Logan who rarely takes control during your lovemaking, he lets you on top because he aches but wants to be inside of you so much that he lets out soft groans and whimpers when you ride him. He loves watching you, holding you, running his big palms over your young body appreciating your beauty. You’re whimpering at the size of him and it doesn’t matter how many times you’ve taken him.
• Oldman Logan who gets happy, when you get him a new pack of cigars. He gets you flowers in return. He gets you flowers, chocolates and everything you love because he pays attention to small details very often because actions speak louder than words.
• Oldman Logan who comes home with new wounds, because people like to annoy him and fight him and it always ends badly. He hates seeing you cry when you clean away his wounds, and see the bullets in the sink as he pushes them out by himself growling in pain and his hands tremble. Your heart breaks and he doesn’t want you to see how weak he is when he is wounded. But despite all that you nurse him, and never leave his side. And he thinks he’s the luckiest man alive for that—
• Oldman Logan who seeks your kisses, when you bath together. He loves having you turned with your back towards him as he sits behind you. His large arms curl around you and he can listen to you talking for hours. He sits there with you and smiles. Sometimes he talks, but physical touch is one of his love languages for sure.
• Oldman Logan who loves when you dress up for him and give him a little show while he smokes his cigar in his armchair and you act like you’re on a catwalk. He loves all of them dresses and praises you. How lovely and gorgeous you look, he wears his glasses to see you better and even attempts to take photos of you in his phone. Your giggles and smiles bright up his world. You’re the light in his darkness.
• Oldman Logan who protects you with his life and that last bit of the strength he has. He doesn’t leave your side, and you’re the luckiest woman on earth for that. He helps you out and cares for you just as much you care for him. Because gosh… you’re two fools in love with each other.
• Oldman Logan who is definitely a husband material so ♾️/10 ;)
-
#logan howlett imagine#logan howlett x reader#logan howlett fanfiction#logan xmen#logan howlett x female reader#logan howlett x you#logan howlett fluff#logan howlett smut#old logan#old man!logan#wolverine fanfiction#the wolverine#wolverine xmen#wolverine x female reader#wolverine x reader#wolverine x you#hugh jackman x y/n#hugh jackman x you#hugh jackman#hugh jackman fanfic#hugh jackman fluff#hugh jackman x reader#hugh jackman x female reader#x men fanfiction#x men#james logan howlett#marvel fanfiction#marvel#logan wolverine#wolverine imagine
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While children are getting free candy from strangers during Halloween, the 10 children in Mahmoud's family (@mahmoudfamily1) barely have enough money to buy food. Can you donate the price of a bar of chocolate or a pack of money so that they may get food and other basic necessities?
There is no vegetables or fruits in Gaza; there is barely any food available, let alone sweets for the children. These 10 children suffer from constant stomachaches and diarrhea due to eating the little contaminated food they can find!
There are 3 babies among Mahmoud's 17 family members. The youngest of them, baby Meryem, was only born a few months ago during this genocidal war. Mahmoud's sister gave birth to the baby under a shower of bullets, with no medical personnel or medical resources available. Mahmoud's sister almost lost her life giving birth to the baby! While she luckily survived, she is still suffering from many infections due to the difficult birth.
Not only is there no food, but there are also no diapers for the little babies. Even if they are available (though often they are not), one pack of diapers cost $150! And there are 3 babies in need of them! Please, Mahmoud's gofundme barely has any donations, and they need all the help they can get!
This campaign is #117 on @/gazavetters vetted list. Also vetted by association!
Only $3,720 CAD raised of $80,000 goal!
This Halloween, when you give sweets to children, buy sweets for yourself, or even when you are just watching the neighbourhood kids go trick or treating, please remember these 10 children in Gaza who can barely find food to eat. They are just children. They should be having fun like all other children around the world, not worrying if they will get to eat tonight! Please donate if you can. Every little bit helps!
As an incentive to donate, I'm also hosting a freshwater pearl phone strap raffle to raise funds for this campaign (UK only)! Click here to enter after you donated!
Tagging for reach. Please message me if you want off the mailing list. we thank you in advance.
@dlxxv-vetted-donations @ana-bananya@northgazaupdates@c-u-c-koo-4-40k@riding-with-the-wild-hunt @roadimusprime@aces-and-angels@just-browsing1222@neptunerings@mushroomjar@northgazaupdates2@kyra45-helping-others@decolonize-solidarity @heritageposts@timetravellingkitty @briarhips @ankle-beez @akajustmerry @wellwaterhysteria @rhubarbspring @brutaliakhoa @decolonize-the-everything @postanagramgenerator@heydreamchild @watermotif @appsa @stuckinapril @malcriada @appsa @buttercuparry@bixels @afro-elf @headspace-hotel @dailyquests @charlott2n @bruciemilf @pcktknife @officialspec @valtsv
@odinsblog @chainmail-butch @versescaaa @stalinistqueens @autistic-spirk @bestlesbiancave @t4tails @mordhiobhail @b0nkcreat @lemon-wedges @holedyke @pinayelf @dogesterone @professorllayton @video-game-kids-tournament @megamindsfreshmintycum @thepixelelf @zarigueya666 @philcollinsenjoyer @redbuddi @bakwaas @eastgaysian @tf2yuri @bongjoonheaux @coughloop @neechees @jame7t @amygdalae @pointnclick @psygull @wolvierinez @jewishvitya @sandeewithtwoe @riding-with-the-wild-hunt @nieyao @yuri-alexseygaybitch @oursapphirestars @kingmeatyprince @beserkerjewel @lesbiandardevil @neechees @officialspec @certifiedsexed @bruciemilf @cutecipher @nerves-nebula @augustheart @ihavegaysex42069 @dailyquests @rennybu @chappellrroan @mesetacadre @ballwizard @mxwhore @sealbf @moveslikekeithrichards @andva-ri @crispy6usiness @peskypawz @v4mpgrrl @hazem-khalil
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Breakfast at Jennie's
Kim Jennie x Male Reader
Tags: anal, carry fucking, celebrity, CFNM, creampie, cum drinking, edging, kitchen sex, morning sex, nymphomaniac, pantyless, "quickie", sexting, twerking
Word count: 4015.
Sex. This is always the first word Jennie thinks of when she wakes up every morning. A proud nymphomanic, Jennie keeps a full catalog of every single fuck she has ever had. There are many collectors out there, and Jennie is one of them. Her collection is made of cocks of multiple sizes, shapes, and colors that had the honor to penetrate her slutty holes.
At the luxury condo where she lives, Jennie keeps track of every elegible man to fuck her. From the bratty 18-year-old heir all the way up to septuagenarian retirees. Every time a new man moves in, she finds out and greets them with a special text message: a picture of either her pussy or ass with an invitation to come to her apartment for some morning sex. She gives them 15 minutes to answer before the picture is automatically deleted.
As a new resident of Jennie's condo, you were greeted with this invitation with a picture of her pussy before you could even finish setting your furniture up. But you thought it was just one of those porn spams that proliferate these days. The second day, you got another picture, this time of her asshole. Once again, you didn't answer. But you noticed that the house number was the same on both messages: 1601. You checked it, and indeed, there was a house with this number in the condo.
It took a few more days before Jennie sent another text of her intimate parts to you, but when she did, it was quite a naughty one, as she spread both her fuckholes for you to see the insides of her pink cunt and anus. "15 minutes, I'm waiting," she was very direct this time. You had just woken up, meaning you were just wearing your undershorts and hadn't even had your breakfast, and her villa was on the other side of the condo, but you still drove like a madman to meet her deadline, landing at the door of her house just in time.
You knocked at the door but heard no answer. Maybe the house was real, but it was just a prank. For a second, you thought of going back to your car before any guard could spot a man wearing just his undies on a cold day at the house of one of the most famous celebrities in Korea. However, as you put your hands on the handle, you found out the door was open all the time.
Jennie's house was very spacious. She was clearly way out of your league. You might be wealthy enough to live in UN Village, but her living room was the same size as your apartment. You walked around four rooms and three bathrooms and didn't find anybody, once again having second thoughts. It was only at your final guess, guided by the smells coming out of the kitchen, that you finally found a dark-haired woman wearing an oversized Calvin Klein shirt and drinking hot chocolate.
"You're late." Jennie reprimanded you. "For much less, I sent guys packing. My time is precious, especially at this new phase of my life," she said. Jennie was indeed very busy, learning the grits and grinds of running a record label all by herself after her recent departure from YG Entertainment. "But I'll make an exception for you; I see you just moved in and are also still patching things around in your new life," she said, looking at your underwear the whole time.
"I think we still have time for a quickie, but I won't take my clothes off," she said, setting the rules. "Sure, even if it's only 10 minutes, I'm fine with this. Your house, your rules," you replied to her.
Jennie didn't waste any time, as she was already behind schedule. Sensing your cock still wasn't ready, she grinded her ass against your clothed shaft. You could see her cheeks popping out, and she was wearing nothing under her shirt. You answered her moves, humping your fabric against Jennie's perfect pussy and sensing your cock get harder at each slow thrust of your pretending to passionately fuck her. You then reached under her shirts to grab her tits and followed it with a few spankings of her sexy ass, much to her enjoyment.
Jennie sensually licked your torso, then got on her knees and set her sights on the monster bulging under your underwear. You helped her and took your underwear off by yourself as your cock sprung out all the way into touching Jennie's nose. She looked extremely tiny from that spot, as her head didn't even reach over your hips. Jennie gave your tip a soft suck before jerking your cock as hard as she could, blowing your pipe off as her right hand ran all over your shaft while her left hand landed in your balls.
You wondered if Jennie just wanted to suck your cock for 5 minutes and let you go after you cum. She did that many times to guys who couldn't handle the power of her blowjob. It was all a test to see if you could take further leaps. Jennie put her nails in your crotch and started sucking your pole with no hands, leading to your first hard groan. That move has finished many guys over her 7-year career, and she has mastered it to a top-level degree. The way she throated a cock with ease had you on your knees, but you knew you couldn't literally blow this opportunity.
But her blowjob was tough to resist—ball touching, shaft stimulation, tip sucking—it seemed like she knew all the right spots. Indeed, you were just one of the countless cocks she has faced. As Jennie moved down to your balls, you looked at your tip, already fully red, wondering how you hadn't dropped a fountain of cum all over the kitchen's floor yet. And she wasn't going to stop. Recognizing it, Jennie blew some hot air right at your throbbing spot. It had barely been two minutes of her sucking you off, but it felt like she had been there for two hours. She was truly hungry for some long, big sausage for breakfast.
Jennie still hadn't stopped sucking your cock; you just groaned and stood on the edge, waiting for her torture to be over. You were conflicted; maybe you should just shoot all over her mouth and move on to something else. She licked, jerked, mopped, and, most of all, sucked your hard prick like she wanted to give you a heart attack. "Stop," you murmured, but she didn't hear a peep, instead shoving your tip to bulge under her cheeks and deepthroating your shaft using no hands, then slapping it under her clothed chest before giving your cock some kisses and resuming with her fast-paced sucking.
You barely survived Jennie's five-minute-long cock-sucking barrage. Your eyes brightened when she said those words: "Wanna fuck me?" as Jennie spread her right leg and placed it at the kitchen's sink, her holes just peeking under her shirt. You had 5 minutes at most, so you had to enjoy every second of it, sticking your cock in her tight vaginal entrance shortly after. Jennie pushed her right leg in your direction and let you grab her by her right thigh, making your cock point vertically towards her pussy to reach deeper inside it.
Jennie's tight pussy offered a lot of resistance to your shaft. No matter how many such sessions she had, she always managed to keep her holes tight with plenty of exercise. You had to grab her lower thigh instead, but so far only your tip has managed to dive under her massive clitorial hood. Your penetrations were somewhat shallow, but lucky for you, they seemed to have hit the right spots, unless she was faking those out-of-breath moans she started to give after a few adjustments you made to penetrate her cunt.
You made sure to sense how she felt as you suddenly penetrated her deeper, making Jennie squeal for the first time. She firmly held her small body against the sink, giving you a naughty stare as your cock finally managed to fully stretch her out, taking advantage to lift her leg even higher and grab her by the waist. You could finally get a view of her throbbing clit and you hadn't even touched it due to the inconvenience of her shirt; instead, it was Jennie who took advantage of her clit being more accessible to finger herself. "Give it to me, baby," she said in a sexy voice while running her tongue all over her lips.
Jennie held herself by your neck, while her elbow was the only thing keeping her still tied to the sink, making her little, fragile body ache. In spite of that, you showed no signs of slowing down, giving her short but very deep pumps in her slit. You firmly gripped Jennie's slim waist, giving her faster and deeper poundings each time. She switched positions, putting her legs back on the floor and clenching her pussy all over your shaft while doing so. Now you had both hands on her waist and only 3 minutes left, so it was time to hit hard with no worries.
You increased the speed with which you hammered Jennie's cunt, taking her fully under control as your right hand grabbed her waist while your left hand grabbed her neck. Jennie reached under her shirt and spread her ass cheeks a little to ease the pressure of your deep pumps hitting her cervix at full speed. Just as she did that, your balls clapped intensely against her cheeks, smashing her little fingers. You quickly found out that two hands on her waist was the way to go, as you were much stronger than her. She had no answer to your hard pumps except moaning and screaming like a slut.
Jennie stopped as she climbed on top of the sink, now facing you. You once again grabbed her right thigh, but this time she managed to push you closer by wrapping her left leg around your butt as you entered back into her pussy. Now you were the one putting Jennie literally on the edge, as her ass was about to fall from the sink before you pushed it up just in time. Jennie's pussy finally on full display to you makes you try even harder, as you can now fully see your throbbing monster bulge under her little trimmed bush. She's a master of moaning; her voice is so sexy, it makes you wonder if she could release a single just recording them and top the charts.
"Ah yes, ah, ah, ah, ah, ah," she continues to moan as your cock stretches her fuckhole at a steady pace and your skin claps against her meaty clit. You hit Jennie as deep as you can before letting her climb down the sink. You assume your 10 minutes are over as Jennies goes back to kneeling to suck your meat and milk you dry in a minute or so. Using her no-hands sucking of your manhood, you brace yourself to blast in Jennie's mouth at any second. She places her hands on your thighs and then masturbates your shaft while muffling her moans under your balls. A fast jerking of your foreskin and her tongue running up and down your shaft have you on the edge of your seat once more. She kisses your tip and spits on your dick. You now have only one minute left, and try to hold on until the moment finally comes.
Jennie gives you a fast jerkoff while inserting your tip in her mouth. You know she's searching for that cum. She doesn't even try to hide anymore. You just feel satisfied if you fill her warm mouth with a hot and heavy dose of sperm at this point. 30 seconds left. More jerkoffs from Jennie. She slaps your tip on her tongue, then goes back to suck it deep. 10 seconds left. You just relax and close your eyes; whatever comes next will be enough for you. That's when Jennie surprises you with those words:
"I think you earned a few extra minutes," she says, putting her left knee on the kitchen table while her right knee is slightly lower on the bench. It takes a bit for you to regain strength from Jennie's almost deadly blowjob, as you start back with very slow pumps in her pussy, grabbing her by the hair as you manage to get halfway in, with her pussy tightening after those minutes without your cock inserted in it. As your cock finally disappears under her shirt, Jennie starts screaming harder. "AHHH. AHHH. AHHH. AHHH.." Her cheeks jiggle as she approves of your pounding. Then words that are about to send you to the heavens come from her mouth.
"Now I want you to fuck my ass," Jennie says as she closes her legs and plants both of them on the floor before spreading them back for your anal insertion. Jennie screams and gleefully licks her thumb as you insert your full length in her asshole, reaching under her shirt to masturbate herself. Your well-above-average girth was too much even for an experienced anal cocksleeve like Jennie, as she placed her hands on her ass to spread and ease up her butthole entrance. Your cock filled every inch of her anus, making her pant at each thrust.
"Oh, this feels good," Jennie says once the initial pain is gone. She's a quick learner and can adjust to any cock, enjoying your anal stretching to the fullest now. "Ahhhh, that's good!" Jennie screams of pleasure as your meat keeps drilling her asshole and establishes a consistent rhythm, not going super rough on her and just using your firm grip on her waist to your advantage when penetrating. She alternates sexy murmurs with more high-pitched screams as you advance inside her tight hole.
Jennie puts her legs fully over the table. The gape in her butthole is much wider now and makes for much easier penetration this time. You place both hands in her ass and softly push your cock, leading to more sexy noises from her. She licks her index finger and puts it in your mouth to suck. You go a little faster as your cock starts to fully disappear inside her anus, but even as you increase the speed, you're very passionate and try as much as possible not to hammer her just for the sake of it.
"Yes, just keep fucking my ass," Jennie approves. You once again increase the pace and hit her deeper as she pants and makes some cute little noises with her mouth barely open. Now it's your turn to shove your thumb on it as the tongues it. You ruin her lipstick and mark her neck with it as your thumb slides down. Your pace is very steady as you touch all of Jennie's erogenous zones, with a little grope of her tits under the shirt and some massaging of her neck as well.
You finally can't resist the urge to pound her asshole hard and fast, giving Jennie fast thursts that she enjoys a lot. "Yes, yes, please," she says as you finally clap her cheeks while performing anal on her. Jennie used the whole table as a support for her body and groans as your hard pounding finally arrives into her asshole, just like you did minutes before to her cunt. Clapping sounds keep coming out every time your hips touch her butt. Jennie screams harder as her butthole finally gets fully stretched out.
"YES. YES. YES," Jennie says, almost losing her voice as you take her by surprise with fast hammerings in her asshole. You now mold her rectum to the shape of your girthy manhood, making clap sounds in her ass that match with her perfect out-of-breath moans. "It feels so good to be fucked in the ass; I'll give you 10 extra minutes," Jennie says as you pull out of her.
Jennie gets on her knees and masturbates herself. She isn't lying. The last time one of her morning acquaintances got to have anal sex with her, she was still under YG. This was her first morning anal fuck as a self-made record label owner. She licks her chops and gives you a demand: "I want you to stick this cock in my ass until you cum," as she spreads her legs to sit in your thick man meat.
You weren't prepared for Jennie's fast ride on top of your dick as you grunt each time she reaches the base of it. You cling to her little tits, but that only makes her go harder. She might be small, but takes your big cock impaling her with ease. Your just like a veiny and meaty version of the big dildo she rides every day first thing in the morning.
After a few clashes with your hips, Jennie stops mid-air and starts fingering herself. You seize the opportunity to push your cock up her rectum. "Ohhh, yes, yes, yes, perfect," she loves when you do it. The harder you pound her, the more heat she puts in her clit while fingering it, and the higher she screams. "Just keep g..." She can't even finish the sentence as your cock and her finger team up perfectly to give her an insane orgasm.
Jennie's loud screams motivate you to fuck her harder; your cock is now taking full ownership of her asshole. You can't even barely see the results of your pounding, thanks to her shirt, but her screams are all you need to hear to keep doing what you're doing. "OH. OH. OH. OH," she keeps yelling as your impalement session shows no signs of slowing down—quite the opposite. Her stretched cunt muscles also expand as squirt starts coming out of her vagina with each pounding.
"AHHHHHHHHHHHH," Jennie lets out a prolonged scream as your balls keep making a loud noise each time they smash her ass cheeks. She holds herself by the tip of her toes as each pounding now has her on the verge of collapsing. You suddenly stop and let her do the work now, as she bounces just as fast as your pumps. It ends up being a very smart decision, as Jennie tightens her anus around your thick prick and sends shivers all over the shaft of your dick. The rough pounding truly awakened her inner beast, as she now rides you like a maniac for a couple minutes.
"Carry me and fuck me hard," she demands, and you oblige, firmly grabbing her ass and lifting her tiny body. Your dick slides under her oversized shirt straight back to her pussy. "Just fuck my pussy nonst... AH, AH, AH, AH," once again she fails to finish a sentence as your cock hammers her hard. The cheek-clapping sounds at this position are the loudest so far, and you love being in full control and stetching Jennie's walls at full speed, turning her into a slut that only has one word in her vocabulary to speak. She attempts a little ride on your cock, but you are having none of it, just plowing her even harder after she tries it. "AH, YES, YES, YES, YES," is all she can say.
You want to relax a little after such an intense session and sit on the floor. "I think you earned this," Jennie says as she finally takes her shirt off and lets you see her naked body in full display. She sits her ass back on your boner, letting you see her little thong marks. Jennie twerks her little ass as you put just the tip inside her, giving you easy access to suck her tits as she tilts her body in your direction. Jennie may not have the biggest ass, but she knows how to twerk on a cock, spanking herself and turning her cheeks red while she bounces, letting out sexy moans at each slap.
You try to push up, but Jennie quickly shuts her tight hole down and smashes your shaft, moving upwards for more twerking. You grab her cheeks as she slowly opens up her butthole to your meat and increases the pace of her ride, flipping her hair while bouncing her ass straight into the base of your dick.
"Take it, stretech that ass," she commands as she gets her body close to yours, letting you do the work of attempting to drill her anus all the way deep. Her moans start to get out of breath once you pick up the speed. She starts dueling with your cock, twerking while you try to push it up her butthole. "Fuck my ass," she keeps demanding, urging you to rise to the challenge and impale her to the fullest.
You finally do, making your balls clap a lot against her cheeks as you groan at each thrust. You jackhammer Jennie and make her let out even sexier moans. You lift your body off the ground as much as you can, making Jennie's tiny body almost float in the air with each pump. "Ohhh, fuck," Jennie says as she starts panting, with you giving your maximum to fuck her now as she takes pounding after pounding from your massive meat.
Even though Jennie looks very tired, you ended up more exhausted than her, leaving room for her to restart twerking on your cock. As Jennie takes advantage of it, you just watch and let her be the star of the show, the it girl, the ace of morning sex. Jennie's rapid and shallow bounces end up being too much for you to handle, as you shoot ropes of semen all over her butthole as soon as she gives herself another spank that clenches her already tight anal walls to the point your cock can no longer resist.
Jennie turns her microwave on and starts preparing a little hot chocolate to heal herself after such a good fuck. As the chocolate finishes heating up, Jennie gets back to you and says, "I think it needs some milk.". She scoops the cum that fell onto your belly and farts the cum inside her asshole into a cup, adding it to the hot chocolate mug and mixing it up, drinking the whole thing in front of you. "So tasty, just like I wanted it," she says.
"I have to go now; I'm late to work, and I have a lot of business to do today. I'm starting a new life, so I'm very busy. I guess I'll have to take the helicopter to work," she said. Yes, Jennie was truly a celebrity beyond your league. You truly felt a little jealous but somewhat proud that you managed to cum inside the Jennie Kim's tight asshole as you dressed yourself up and took off, knowing you'd be at least an hour late to your work and face the worst of rush hour.
A few weeks passed by. Jennie did not contact you. Maybe she was indeed lying, and you were just a quickie to warm her up for a busy day. One day, as you were already on your way to work and on the verge of leaving the condo, a text message popped on your screen; it was from her, this time sending you a full-body shot of her naked with the caption. "Come to my house NOW".
You didn't hesitate, making a U-turn with your car and heading to Jennie's home. Her door was already open just waiting for you to come, as you find Jennie this time in her living room. In an inversion of the first time you two met, this time you had your full work attire on while she was wearing just her underwear.
"Do anything you want to me," she says, giving you the sign to come in her direction.
You're definitely not going to work today.
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chocolate-coated hearts | r.l.
୨ৎ series masterlist
barista!remus x shy!reader
summary: you go to a new cafe to order donuts for your friend, immediately enamoured with the barista
tw: nothing? reader takes literature as a major, also kind of has social anxiety
a/n: might make this a series! i’ve got a few ideas <3
An anxious sigh escapes you as you stand idly outside the cafe, peering inside through the mosaicked windows. It was jam-packed, people pushing past each other and snake-like queues forming throughout the space. You wriggle your phone out of your coat pocket and glance at the message that your friend, Madison, had sent in a half hour ago.
hey gorgeous!! mind picking up a few donuts for me at Beanie’s before you come over? a few of the pbj ones, and some chocolate ones too. thanks xx
She was expecting, and you went by whenever you could to help her out after her asshole of a boyfriend left.
Normally, you wouldn’t bother. You hated crowded places, and Beanie’s was the definition of crowded – an old-style cafe which had blown up overnight because of its scrumptious donuts and vintage aesthetic. But who were you to deny the cravings of the woman bearing your goddaughter?
You take a deep breath and push the creaky wooden door open, cringing at how the bell rang and signalled the whole cafe to your presence. But no one so much as looked up, busy trying to buy or sell food, or find a table.
You push your way through the sea of people, joining the queue in front of the counter. It was long, you noted, and would probably take another fifteen minutes or so until it was your turn to place an order. You fish out your crumpled book from your bag and turn it to the page you had stopped on yesterday. It was the second classic of the term – Pride and Prejudice. Taking literature as a major meant you spent more time reading than anything else, but you weren’t complaining.
As you read, you scribbled down plot points to take note of and quotes which meant something worth writing about. Your eyes stayed glued to the page, trying to work out hidden meanings and flowery language. Once you were back home, you’d have to compile all your analysis onto that worksheet Professor Ragnarsson had given out, write the 10-page long review, and then –
“Hey! Shut the damn book and order, will you?”
Your heart jumps in your chest at the sudden harsh tone. You close your book and whip your head around to see a middle-aged man glaring at you before peering down at his watch. “There’s a long queue, and we don’t have all day.”
The heat rushes to your cheeks as you open your mouth to apologise – but before you can say anything, you hear an oddly soothing voice from behind you. “Hey, don’t be a jerk. She didn’t know the counter was open.”
You glance back towards the counter, and you swear your heart stopped beating for a second. Angelic was an understatement to describe the man standing in front of you, tall and lanky and absolutely fucking beautiful.
His chestnut brown hair perfectly framed his pale face, eyebrows furrowed in annoyance as he glanced at the rude customer behind you. There were pinkish scars tracing from above his eyebrows to right below his lips, but they looked golden under the orange light – he looked like some kind of heavenly being.
When his eyes dart back to you, his expression instantly softened, lips tilting upwards in a smile. You thought you would melt into a puddle right there and then just by gazing into his warm, honeyed eyes. “Hi, gorgeous. What can I get you?”
You blink, your mouth involuntarily falling open slightly. Gorgeous? Was he talking to you? Maybe he was referring to the man behind you.
His smile widens, and that does absolutely nothing to calm the feeling of your heart bouncing around in your stomach. “It’s okay if you can’t choose just yet, I know the number of options can be…” he chuckles, “overwhelming. Take all the time you need to decide.”
Oh my god, you thought. His laugh sounded musical, like the tender feeling of being enveloped in a warm embrace. You’d put it on a record player and play it on loop for hours if you could.
“Hurry the fuck up –”
“One more word from you and you won’t be getting your coffee today, buddy,” the godly-looking barista snapped in a slightly louder tone at the man behind you, face contorted in irritation.
You hear silent cursing behind you, a twinge of embarrassment turning you red. You quickly glance back up. “Sorry, hi, hello. I’ll um… I…” the words were on the tip of your tongue, but seemed to dissolve when he glanced at you with those agonisingly pretty eyes and kind smile.
Snap out of it, you internally curse as you open your mouth again. “I’ll get three peanut butter-jelly donuts, and four chocolate donuts.”
“Okay. Which chocolate ones?” he asks, tapping his tongs against the display dome with stacks of donuts. There really were a lot of options – chocolate sprinkles, belgian chocolate, chocolate glazed, double chocolate – your mind seemed to freeze up for a second. Which one would Madison want?
You quickly look behind you, seeing the man’s face twisted up in what looked like rage. It seemed to be taking him all his willpower not to lash out at you, and the customers behind him didn’t look much far off.
You turn back to the counter, eyes wide with panic as you feel the blood rush to your head. You had never been good at this; thinking and choosing on the spot. That’s why Subway was always a no-go for you, that’s why Madison had specifically told you what to get her – just that she hadn’t been specific enough. “I… I’m not sure. I think, um…”
“Hey, take it easy,” you look back up to see Remus giving you a reassuring smile, a slight hint of concern on his face. Your despair must have been embarrassingly evident, then. “It’s alright if you can’t choose. Do you want me to pick for you?”
You ought to have been humiliated, the way you immediately nodded and gave in to his offer. But he just gave you an easy smile and nodded, picking up one of each type and placing them in the box.
“Thank you,” you mumble sheepishly as you move to the payment counter, fishing in your bag for a wad of notes.
“Of course,” he grins, and it was so bright you thought it could probably light up the whole cafe. “That’ll be $15.90.”
As he waits for you to pay, he takes a quick look down and begins to brush crumbs off his apron. You look up at the wrong moment, eyes immediately fixing on the curves of his biceps visible through his T-shirt, and his slender fingers.
He glances back up at you, catching a glimpse of your flustered look and instantly smirking. You look away abashedly, counting the money and handing it to him.
The brush of your fingers against his calloused palm sent a jolting shock through you as you quickly pull back, not missing the way his smile widened as he cashed the money into the register.
“Thanks for visiting, sweetheart. Hope to see you again soon.”
You don’t reply, afraid you’d crumble into a blushing, gooey mess. Flashing him a brief, nervous smile, you pick up the box of donuts before turning around and heading straight for the exit. Sweetheart.
You huff as you open the door and step outside, pulling out your phone to complain to Madison all about the stupidly handsome barista at her favourite cafe. God, he really knew what he was doing.
#remus lupin drabble#remus lupin fic#remus lupin headcanon#remus lupin fluff#remus lupin x you#remus lupin x reader#remus lupin oneshot#remus lupin#remus lupin fanfiction#remus lupin x fem!reader#remus lupin x y/n#remus lupin scenario#remus lupin x self insert#barista!au#remus lupin imagine#marauders#the marauders x reader#remus lupin series#marauders era#marauders fanfiction#marauders x y/n#marauders x you#marauders x reader#marauders drabble#marauders fandom#the marauders fanfiction#the marauders x you#the marauders#the marauders fic#the marauders fandom
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a nutty summertime "snack" for the calorie-addicted cows 🥜🐮
as if over 9000 calorie desserts weren't enough for you fatties, I have another recipe designed to widen that waist and pack your belly full of caloric, sinful sweets.
first, you have to get off your fatass and go to the store (or, have your groceries delivered, to save yourself some energy) and get the following ingredients.
1 pack of mega stuffed oreos (2520 calories)
1/2 cup of butter (800 calories)
24oz of cream cheese (2160 calories)
1 1/12 cup of powdered sugar (720 calories)
2 jars of peanut butter (or more, depending on how peanut-buttery you wanna go) (5320 calories)
3/4 cup of sour cream (if you want the cheesecake to have a little tang, but if not, do vanilla greek yogurt) (360 calories)
2 cups of chocolate chips (or more, again, your preference) (3520 calories)
1 cup of heavy whipping cream (800 calories)
1 family sized bag of reese's mini peanut butter cups (or more, again, your choice, fatty) (5070 calories)
this comes out to a disgusting, humiliating, repulsive 21,270 calories if you're so out of control that you can't help yourself, and stuff your fat face with every morsel of this cheesecake in one sitting.
I know you can't resist that type of gluttony, so here's how to make this sin:
listen to mommy carefully, okay?
first: make the crust
crush up the oreos to make the crust, either by hand or using a food processor until the oreos form a fine crumb texture. combine this with the 1/2 cup/8 tbsp melted butter. (if you want thicker crust, double this part. also adds an extra 3,320 calories) press this mix into the bottom of a pan that can be opened, like a springform pan. make sure you press it onto the side of the pan about 1/2-1 inch up, to add that delicious crust for the cheesecake. cover this and chill while you continue to the next step.
second: make the filling
get two bowls--in one, pour 1 cup of heavy whipping cream into the bowl and beat until the whipping cream forms stiff peaks. then, in the second bowl, beat the 24oz of cream cheese for 2-3 minutes on med/high, then beat in the 1 1/2 cups of powdered sugar until the mixture is smooth. at this point, make sure you add in your 2 jars of peanut butter, 3/4 cups of sour cream, and 1 tsp of vanilla extract and continue to beat the mixture until it is completely smooth. then, fold in the whipped heavy cream, some chopped up peanut butter cups and chopped up chocolate chips. (for extra calories, add chopped up peanuts as well.) spread this over the crust and place in the fridge for 4 hours, or until the cheesecake has gotten firm.
third: make the chocolate topping
grab yourself a bowl that can be microwaved, then pour 1 cup of heavy whipping cream into the bowl and place into the microwave for 30 seconds at a time, until the whipping cream has just begun to simmer. once it has reached this point, pour the whipping cream over chocolate chips, at least 1 bag. make sure these chocolate chips have been chopped up, so they will melt properly. after the mixture has set for a minute or two, whisk it together to ensure it is completely melted. let the mixture sit and cool for 5 to 10 minutes, and then pour the mixture over the chilled cheesecake and place back in the fridge for at least 30 minutes.
once it's set...
garnish with the rest of your peanut butter cups, chocolate chips, and, for extra calories, consider adding the following:
whipped cream
chocolate drizzle
caramel drizzle
peanuts
mini m&ms
remember, a moment on the lips is a lifetime on your hips, so savor every bite because it'll be with you for the rest of your life.
#stuffed belly#stuffing#weight gain#wg kink#wg writing#weight gain prompt#weight gain writing#stuffing kink#weight gain kink#weight gain encouragement#belly gainer#getting fat on purpose#getting fatter#getting bigger#fatty getting fatter#fat belly#belly play#bloated belly#need to be fatter#round belly#obese belly#feedee belly#growing belly#belly kink#female feeder#death feederism#feedee feeder#feeder wanted#feederism prompts#feeder recipes
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◟𖥻 ♡⃕ secret santa: percy jackson
▰▰▰ pairing: percy jackson x fem!reader
y/n doesn't like percy, he's in love with her. the best answer percy finds for this situation? be her secret santa for the upcoming holidays.
warnings: none i think ?? cabin 10 reader just for the plot but it doesn't get mentioned that much.
day one
— 10th of december.
it wasn't even halfway through december and everything was already going bad. Apparently, there had been a storm and Chiron thought that it was safer for campers to stay safely in camp instead of going home since he didn’t know what was happening with Zeus for him to suddenly cause the biggest storm of the year.
frankly, y/n thought Zeus was throwing another one of his childish tantrums, but she couldn't say that out loud because knowing the god, he would probably make things worse. That didn’t mean she wasn't pissed about having to stay at camp though, she was.
that's why, after spending her afternoon hiding her discomfort about the situation, she walked into her cabin and went straight to her bed, wanting more than anything to hide away from the rest of the world. She had been so excited to go and spend her holidays with her father, it was the first time she would be having christmas away from her father.
Just as she was going to jump into her bed, she saw the suitcase with the clothes she had been excitedly packing in the morning. However, when she took the suitcase to put it away, something else catched her attention.
left in her bed was a box of chocolates, a ribbon placed neatly on top of it with a note stuck on it. She took it carefully in her hands, eyeing it with a mix of curiosity and surprise.
“i'm sorry you couldn't go home for the holidays, I do hope some chocolates can cheer you up — your secret santa.
P.S. don't worry, I took the white ones from the box since I know you don't like them”
y/n was left surprised, and when she opened the box and found that the person had, indeed, taken the white chocolates out of the box, she even smiled a tiny bit.
well, the circumstances were not ideal for her, but maybe the holidays were not going to be that bad.
day two
- 12th of december
it took two days for her to take it back. The holidays were going to be awful, especially if she was forced to spend another minute with Percy Jackson.
And if it was up to Chiron, she would have to spend most of her time with Percy. So it was going to be awful, no question. They had both been chosen to plan the christmas party, and it had only been a couple of minutes and y/n almost wanted to go and see if she could drown Percy in the lake. That wouldn't have worked, of course, since he could breathe underwater, but she still was inclined to try.
she still didn’t understand why Chiron had paired them together, she could understand if they needed her help for the party, but what exactly could Poseidon's son provide if not unhelpful ideas and stupid jokes?
"the pavillion could use some blue lights" he suggested unhelpfully, because that's what he did.
she, on the other hand, was set on her own vision of christmas "It’s supposed to be red and green! Like a traditional Christmas!"
they ended up doing nothing that day just because they couldn't agree on anything. y/n suspected he was disagreeing with her just to be annoying, which was something that he seemed to enjoy doing.
but when y/n was back at her cabin, her mood immediatly lifted up when she caught a glimpse of a blue sparkly ribbon in her bed. It had been two days since the first gift, and she had been sure it had been a one time thing. Now, she ignored her siblings and went straight to her bed, finding there a plate of cookies with ribbon and another note on top.
“thought you deserved a sweet treat after working so hard today — Secret Santa.
PS. some of them are a little burnt, but I know how much you like choco-chips cookies"
day three
— 14th of december
When Grover walked into cabin three, he wasn't expecting to find Percy trying to wrap a gift, the floor around him buried in wrapping paper.
“are you seriously trying to go on with this?" the satyr asked, though the answer was very obvious. “Chiron told me you were very interested on helping with the christmas party”
well, maybe Percy had begged Chiron to pair him with y/n since he had overheard her telling one of his siblings that she was chosen to plan the party.
However, Percy was not going to admit that to anyone. "I need help with this wrapping paper, it just isn't folding the way I want to."
Grover rolled his eyes as he walked through the discarded wrapping paper. "You adhd people can't do anything."
"sorry, I was too busy saving the world to attend to gift wrapping 101"
turns out, Grover wasn't any better at wrapping than Percy was. He was worse, actually, since he ate the paper when he got nervous. Thirty minutes later, they had half the wrapping paper they started with and a terrible wrapped present.
"so it's us adhd people huh?" percy asked as he raised his eyebrows.
"hey, I was busy saving the world with you." Grover defended himself as he placed the blue ribbon on top, as if that could cover the terrible work he did.
And since Percy couldn't do any better, the next present on y/n's bed looked like someone had wrapped it with their eyes closed. Still, she didn’t care much when she found it later, because she was busy being too excited over the book she had been reading for months.
“I noticed you kept talking about this book, so I figured it was time you got it. Sorry for the wrapping massacre but hey, don't judge a book by its cover, right? Hope this one keeps you entertained until Zeus chills out. — Secret Santa.”
day four
— 16th of december
Percy and y/n had finally made some progress with the decoration, after Percy annoyed her into allowing him to hang blue lights. She decided to go with it and simply have a blue and white decoration for the pavillion.
they didn’t talk most of the times they met, Percy tried to talk to her but she mostly glared at him or ignored him until he eventually grew tired of talking to himself. It was only sometimes that the silence was too much and y/n would make little comments.
"I'm freezing."
"Didn’t think a daughter of Aphrodite could get cold. Isn't that, like, a beauty hazard? You better warm up, or your hair will lose its shine" And y/n would go back to ignoring him again.
or sometimes they would simply argue.
"No Percy, we can't hang seashells on the tree, are you insane?"
"Why not? it adds nautical charm"
"It’s Christmas! we're not hosting a luau. stick to ornaments, Jackson"
Sometimes, she felt like maybe Percy could be only a little bit likeable, maybe he wasn't too unbearable after all, sometimes he was even funny. But only sometimes.
"How can you make the bows so perfect? mine look like tangled fishing nets" y/n herself was caught by surprise at the laugh that escaped her lips when he raised his bow.
"Maybe if you didn’t tie your bows as if you were anchoring a boat, you would have better luck. Seriously, did Poseidon skip teaching basic motor skills?" And he'd always laugh at her remarks, even when she wasn't being that nice.
By the end of the day, she was tired, but she couldn't deny that she was happy, but she was only happy because they had made progress and now the only thing left was to finish decorating the tree.
And her mood got even better once she stood in front of her bed, noticing the new teddy bear that rested against her pillow, a blue ribbon tied around its neck and a few - blue? - candy canes making a heart on its belly.
“Thought you could use a fuzzy friend to keep you company. — Secret Santa.
PS. I know you don't like candy canes, it was just some decoration. Don't worry, you can give them away."
Day five
— 18th of december.
she ended up giving the candy canes to Percy, and she choose to ignore the weird smile on his face when she gave them to him. Still, he explained that, apparently, he loved candy cane and since those were blue, he loved them even more. Weird.
"Percy Jackson, hero of Olympus, reduced to untangling Christmas lights. Truly a humbling sight." she told him as she found him trying -and failing- to untangle the lights for the tree.
"Give me a little credit here, I think i'm almost done." he replied, a candy cane hanging from his mouth as he continued his work. He wasn't nowhere near done.
But y/n left him to it because she was busy sorting the ornaments. She didn’t know when had been the last time Chiron had gone out for christmas decorations, but the ones her and Percy had found on the big house were old.
She took one of the boxes with the blue ornaments she thought looked the best, and carefully carried it toward the tree, trying to avoid the patches of ice that had formed on the ground outside the Pavillion, she had been so concentrated that she didn’t notice what Percy was up to until a snowball hit her shoulder.
"what the hell, Jackson?" she looked at him, dumbfounded, but he only replied with a laugh.
he went to pick up another snowball, but just as he straightened, she hit him straight on the chest with a snowball of her own. "Okay, that was a lucky shot" he shook the snow out of his hair.
"Lucky? please, I'm a natural" she smiled, shrugging simply.
"Natural at being bossy, maybe." He finally threw the snowball in his hand but he missed his target.
that made y/n laugh, her body feeling lighter as she forgot about the decoration for a moment. "Wow Percy, with aim like that, it's no wonder you stick to swords."
Percy, once again, didn’t take her comment as an offense but simply laughed. She could see his eyes shining as he came close and took the box from her hands.
And he didn’t see it because he turned around to place the box near the tree, but she finally let herself smile as she followed him. When they went back to work, the atmosphere between them felt lighter, warmer, as though a layer of frost was beginning to melt.
When she went back to her cabin, there was a gift already waiting for her in her bed. Whoever this secret santa person was -and y/n really wanted to know who it was-, they had already given up on wrapping and instead used blue ribbon on every gift.
this time, it was a blue and green scarf. And she was confused about it until she looked at the note: “heard you have been cold, maybe you could use a little warmth. — Secret Santa”
day six
— 20th of december
"you're placing the lights wrong" she pointed out as Percy tried to wrap the lights around the tree.
Percy turned to look at her as if she had gome mad. "Are you kidding? there’s surely not a wrong way to place lights on a tree." he replied, his eyebrows raising. "Besides, this is creative expression, you should appreciate it."
"it's an assault on christmas trees everywhere." Percy gasped in mock offense, but he finally stopped whatever he was trying to do with the lights.
"Fine. You hang the lights, I'll stand here looking festive." y/n took the lights from his hands, her fingers grazing his for a second longer than they should.
"If by festive you mean that christmas sweater, it's ugly." this time, she couldn't help but smile a little when he gasped again.
"what's wrong with my sweater? it's festive!" he looked down at the red and blue christmas sweater that had little tridents all over it.
"horrifying, you mean." she mumbled as she put the lights around the tree.
"Aren't you a ray of sunshine? I like your scarf, by the way." he replied, and even though he was always smiling, that moment his smile felt different, y/n didn’t want to find out why. "see how easy is to be nice?"
But the mention of her scarf, made her distracted for a moment as she looked down at the blue and green fluffy scarf around her neck. She still hadn't found out who was her secret santa, and since christmas was coming she wanted to know who was behind those gifts, but she had no clue yet.
She had already questioned her siblings, but no one admitted to being her secret santa and if they knew who it was, they didn’t give the name away even after she threatened them. She was sure of one thing, whoever it was, they had help because it wasn't easy to just sneak into her cabin without her seeing them at least one time.
"hey, Percy." she called absentmindedly, looking up from the scarf. "you pretty much know everyone around camp, don't you?"
"yes, why?" he asked, just as distracted as her because he was hanging some ornaments on the tree.
She hesitated, this was Percy. She didn’t like Percy, she shouldn't share anything about her life with Percy. "Nothing, just thinking about how many people will see you with that ridiculous sweater."
Percy snorted. "next time I'll get you one and we can match."
"I wouldn't wear one of those if my life depended on it, Jackson." and who could blame her if she laughed when Percy looked at her offended.
She also couldn't be blamed if, when the afternoon ended, she had an extra pep in her step. It was just because she was excited over her secret santa, it had nothing to do with Percy Jackson at all!
But it did have to do everything with the box with the blue ribbon placed neatly on top of her bed. It wasn't about the gift at all, no. For y/n, it was how thoughtful everything was. And when she opened the box, she knew she'd have to find who her secret santa was.
Because nobody had ever thought this much about her.
The beautiful bracelet full of small charms, as usual, came with a note. “Each charm has a story. I’ll let you figure them out. — Secret Santa”
day seven
— 22th of december
y/n had tried to make sense of the charms, figure the story behind them. She had been looking at the bracelet every moment she could for the past two days, she already knew the charms by memory: a wave, a heart, an apple, a sweater, a book and finally a star.
She thought that maybe, if she figured it out, she could at least get a hint of who his secret santa was. But she couldn't even guess who this person's godly parents was just because the many charms gave her misleading hints.
Shee was looking at it as she walked through camp, ready to meet Percy at the pavillion so they could finish their decoration for the party. She found him already there, waiting for her with a smile that only stretched on his face when he looked at her.
"Ready for today, boss?" she could've sworn his gaze flickered to the bracelet on her wrist just for a moment but then he was walking past her to pick up the box of decorations.
They ended up drinking some hot chocolate while they decorated just to shake off the cold from the day. These past days, y/n couldn't help but wonder if maybe she had judged Percy a bit too hard before, he wasn't as annoying as she made him out to be.
By the end of the afternoon, they were almost ready with their decorations, Percy was hanging some garlands, his back turned to y/n, who was balancing on her toes to hang a sprig of mistletoe above one of the archways.
She stretched as far as she could, grumbling under her breath. "Who even invented the mistletoe tradition? It’s just a parasite plant. And why is it always there at the worst times?"
Percy chuckled, his voice echoing from across the pavilion. "You’re the one who insisted on using it. Aphrodite's influence finally catching up to you?"
"Oh shut up, Jackson," she shot back, standing precariously on her toes. She was about to talk again when the tip of her shoe slipped slightly on the frosted wooden floor.
"Whoa careful!" Percy dropped the piece of garland he had on his hand and rushed to her.
She caught herself before she could fall, but Percy steadied her anyway, his hands instinctively landing on her waist. "Are you good?" he asked, his face closer than it probably needed to be.
She huffed, looking at the slippery floor before her gaze went back to him. "Can we sue Zeus for hazardous working conditions?"
Percy smirked, helping her regain her footing but keeping his hands on her waist just a second longer than necessary. "Good luck with that lawsuit. Let me know how it goes when you present your case to the olympians."
That’s when they both looked up.
The sprig of mistletoe hanging innocently above them. It swayed slightly in the breeze, almost as if it was mocking them. She blinked at it, her mind racing as her cheeks turned pink. Percy, on the other hand, looked frozen in place.
"I- uh," she started, but her words faltered when his gaze flicked down to her lips for just a second too long.
And when y/n noticed, she couldn't control her eyes as they copied his actions, her gaze going to his lips before returning to his own eyes. It took her a second to realize what she was doing, and she immediatly stepped back.
What was she doing? this was percy jackson!
"I think we're done here, don't you?" Percy only nodded, and for the first time, he wasn’t smirking or cracking a joke. He just stood there, wide-eyed, staring at her.
When she got back to her cabin, she was shaken and it wasn't because of the snow at all. She was so distracted with thoughts of Percy that she almost missed the gift waiting for her as she sat on the edge of her bed.
This time, a neatly folded sweater was placed on her pillows. And for a second, it reminded her of Percy, until she shook off the thought and reached for the note placed over the blue ribbon.
"a little bird told me you liked sweaters, this one might add some extra holiday sparkle to your already dazzling style. I just hope you won't want to burn it. — Your fashionable Secret Santa."
day eight
— 24th of december
y/n had stayed in her cabin as much as possible for the past two days. Now that Percy and her had finished with the preparations for the party, she wasn't forced to spend time with him and she planned on keeping it that way, so she avoided him as much as she could.
Yet, she couldn't keep thinking about him. And that's why she decided it would be best to just stay away from him, at least until her infatuation - and she was sure that's what it was, nothing else - would wear out.
So in the morning of christmas eve, y/n didn’t even went to have breakfast with her siblings, instead she stayed late in bed. She had dreamed about percy, again! and now, she was grumpy as she wrapped herself on her blanket.
It was his fault, for making her feel comfortable with him, for making her forget about how annoying he was, for running to catch her without even thinking, for looking at her lips with those eyes! those stupid sea green eyes she had been seeing every night in her dreams for the past two days.
Now, she would stay on her room, away from everyone. It didn’t matter if it was christmas eve, and damn her secret santa! if they wanted to leave something, they would have to do it with her there. Because she wasn't going anywhere.
Well, at least that had been her plan. Until noon when Grover barged into her room, startling her. "y/n we need you at the stables.. is... uh-" he hesitated. "we just need you, can you come?"
She was about to tell the satyr that he should really learn to knock, but since he seemed shaken and she wasn't doing anything but looking at the ceiling, she stood up from her bed and followed him.
She was wearing her pijamas and the sweater that had been gifted to her. It was truly ugly, with christmas colors and little cupids all over it. But she liked it and it wasn't because it reminded her of percy's ugly trident sweater. No. Nothing to do with Percy. She just liked that her Secret Santa had put effort into it.
As it turns out, Grover didn’t have any emergency or reason to take y/n out of her cozy bed, because there was nothing happening at the stables. The Satyr was acting strange and he told her that the pegasi just needed her, but after they were served food, there was nothing else to do but he insisted on her staying there.
"Grover i'm freezing, can I at least go back to take some gloves and a scarf?" she rubbed her hands against her sweater, trying to keep them warm.
"No!" he exclaimed loud enough to make y/n jump away in surprise. Then, he looked over her shoulder and his face relaxed. "I mean, you can just go if you want to, I think the pegasi are fine."
She looked at him skeptically. He was acting strange. But ultimately, she decided it wasn't out of the ordinary for Grover. "okay... I'll see you later?" she replied before she went back to her cabin.
What she didn’t expect when she walked into her cabin, almost running to her bed because she was freezing, was that her secret santa had worked while she was away.
The past week, she had stood in front of her bed opening all kind of thoughtful presents that made her smile, but this time she was speechless at what waited for her.
Fairy lights were hanging from her bedposts, and fresh flowers were placed in a vase on the nightstand beside her bed, but that didn’t compare at all with the gift waiting for her. As she carefully pulled the blue ribbon off, her eyes wandered through the star map. It was pretty, but the note that came with it was beautiful.
"One night at the bonfire, I remember how you looked at the sky and said 'If I ever get lost, I hope the stars lead me home'. This is a map that shows the stars the first time you came home to camp half-blood. The night I met you. — Secret Santa
PS. I know Christmas is technically tomorrow, but this couldn't wait. So happy christmas!"
y/n sat for a long time in her bed, reading the note over and over again. It wasn't until half an hour later that she realized something: Grover had taken her out of her room so whoever her secret santa was could arrange everything. Grover knew who her secret santa was.
She finds out
— 25th of december.
"I already told you, I have no clue what you're talking to me about!" Grover replied, very obviously trying to run away from her.
This had been going on for the past twelve hours or so, Grover refused to tell her the identity of her secret santa, and she had already tried everything to get him to tell her. He just didn’t budge.
She gave Grover a suspicious look as he hurried off, practically tripping over his own hooves in his attempt to get away. For someone who claimed to know nothing, he sure was acting guilty.
But whatever. She had bigger problems right now, like how her heart felt like it was going to leap out of her chest every time she read the note. And the star map? It was so thoughtful, so personal. She couldn't stop staring at it, wondering how her Secret Santa could possibly know her so well.
It wasn’t until she was alone in the Aphrodite cabin, looking at her closet while thinking about what to wear to the party, that the pieces started falling into place. She fiddled absentmindedly with the bracelet on her wrist, the charms clinking softly. Her eyes fell on one charm specifically. The book.
She had been so focused on making sense of the charms that she hadn't thought to connect them to the other gifts. There was a book charm and she had been gifted the book she had been wanting. She remembered she had been book shopping with Annabeth when she mentioned that specific book. But it surely couldn't be Annabeth.
Her brows furrowed together, trying hard to remember something from that day. But the only thing she could remember was that Percy had tagged along with them and she had been so annoyed with him, because he kept knocking down books and asking dumb questions and-
A gasp left her lips as the realization kicked in and she had to sit down immediatly, her hand desperately looking for the apple charm. How had she missed it? it had been right in front of her the whole time, the apple and the first time she came to camp.
Her mind wandered back to the note. “The first time you came home to Camp Half-Blood. The night I met you.”
The night she met him. The night Percy and Grover had found her wounded in the woods. The next morning, where Percy had given her an apple and then he had tried to make some joke that only worked to put y/n in a bad mood. He'd brought her to Chiron, and she hadn't thought about it ever again.
But now... now she couldn’t stop thinking about it. Or the bracelet. Or how every single gift felt like it was tailored just for her and connected to him somehow: the scarf after she had been complaining to him about the cold, the christmas sweater after she had teased him about his, the chocolates after that one time Annabeth tried to bring her some and she left the white ones to Percy, the blue candy cane after she had said so many times that she hated it, the chocolate chip cookies she loved because of couse Percy would burn them, the blue ribbon!
Her heart skipped a beat as she replayed every interaction they’d had over the past few days. The snowball fight, the way he’d caught her when she slipped on the ice, the way he’d looked at her under the mistletoe. How she’d sworn he’d almost kissed her.
It was him. All of this time, it had been him. And she had been avoiding him, so torn apart with her feelings that she hadn't realized what was in front of her.
Percy gets a gift back.
— 25th of december
y/n had to beg Leo to help her at the very last minute, but as she walked through the party with a little box in hand, she was glad that Valdez could literally turn trash into beautiful things, because now she had the perfect gift.
And the only thing that was left for her to do was find Percy. It shouldn't be hard, since the pavillion wasn't too big, but she was simply too distracted with her thoughts to find him at first glance. At the end, he was the one to find her when she bumped into someone and he catched her before she could fall. Again.
"Hey, you." he smiled, and now she could see the meaning behind the shine in his eyes. "I see you made it out of your cabin. I thought you were going for the ‘grumpy hermit’ vibe today."
She rolled her eyes, but there was a fondness to them once she looked at him. He even looked surprised when she smiled. "Very funny, I actually wanted to talk to you."
He raised his eyebrows. "whats up?" y/n tried to ignore the way her heart seemed to slow down at how nervous she felt.
Instead, she extended the small box towards him. "I got you a gift."
Percy blinked, looking at her like she had grown a second head. "You did?"
She rocked back and forth on her heels as she looked down on the box, pushing it into his hands. "yes, consider it a... thank you gift."
His fingers brushed hers briefly as he finally took the box, eyeing it curiously. "Thank you? for what exactly?"
"for..." making me happy through the holidays. "oh you know, for helping me with the party and for not being completely unbearable."
She hated how her heart raced when he let out a chuckle. "just what any person wants to hear." he joked, but he was already distracted because he was opening the box.
She had made a point of placing a blue ribbon on top, but he didn’t seem to place the pieces together until he looked into the box. Inside was a bracelet, a simple leather cord with three small charms hanging from it, a star, a seashell and a heart.
He looked up at her, surprise evident in his eyes as he opened his mouth to talk, but she was faster. "I thought you'd maybe want to match." she said, raising her arm, the bracelet on her wrist jingling softly.
he was gaping at her, and for a moment he looked slighly panicked, his eyes darted nervously to Grover, who was standing nearby and immediately pretended to be interested in the food table. He had no choice but to look back at her. "You know?"
y/n opened her mouth to tease him, but the panic in his expression stopped her. Instead, she smiled softly. “Yeah, I figured it out. You weren’t exactly subtle, Percy.”
Percy laughed, rubbing the back of his neck. “Hey, give me a little credit here, it took you long enough to figure it out." he paused, suddenly quiet. "did you like them?”
It was the first time y/n saw Percy acting shy instead of his usual confidence. “I loved them,” she admitted. “Even that horrifying sweater.”
"i'm just glad you didn’t burn it." he joked, his usual grin back on his face.
Percy looked like he was about to say something else when his eyes flicked upward, she followed his gaze and froze. There it was, for the second time in the week, the mistletoe she hung mocking hee yet again.
Even though it was freezing, her cheeks burned as she looked back at him. "Oh."
"Yeah" Percy said, his voice softer now. “Funny how these things just... appear.”
They stood there for a moment, the noise of the party fading into the background. Percy’s eyes locked on hers, his usual playfulness replaced with something deeper, something that made her chest tighten.
"Well" she said, trying to break the tension, "are you just going to stand there, or—"
He didn’t let her finish. Percy leaned down, brushing his lips against hers in a kiss that was sweet and hesitant but full of meaning. It wasn’t long or overly dramatic. Just a gentle, warm kiss that left her mind spinning. When he pulled back, he was smiling again.
"Well" he said, mocking her as he glanced at the mistletoe again "Maybe it wasn't so bad for you to put that thing there."
She blinked at him, momentarily stunned. Then she scowled, smacking his chest lightly. “don’t push your luck, Jackson.”
And he only laughed.
But as they walked back into the party, side by side, she couldn’t help the warmth spreading through her chest. Maybe Percy Jackson wasn’t so bad after all.
#percy jackson#percy jackson x reader#percy jackson fluff#percy jackson imagine#percy jackson oneshot#pjo#one shot
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My father is an Ashkenazi Jew. His parents were first generation Americans. Their parents escaped the pogroms in Russia and Ukraine and came to find their American dream. They fought in wars and opened businesses and assimilated and my generation barely has a few words of Yiddish between us. My mother is as much of a WASP as it gets. American Revolutionaries and Signers and some household name civil war feature players. Not old money, but old America and undoubtedly white. I'm patrilineal. Not a Jew to a lot of Jews. Not a Jew to a lot of my Jewish family. Even though i was raised Jewish. Even though I look like my father. Even though i got enough of something in my DNA to get asked "What are you?" more often than not. More often than I'm just accepted at face value as "white". When i was little we lived in an Irish Catholic neighborhood. Like the 5-10 kids in every family sort of Irish catholic neighborhood. The kids calling me a christ killer and refusing to play with me because they heard it from their parents sort of irish catholic neighborhood. For some reason my parents tried to send me to the catholic school down the street. I lasted less than a week because i didn't understand their rituals and their language and they found out my father was a Jew and they couldn't have a christ killer in their midst. I was just sad i didn't get to wear the cute plaid skirt anymore. So i went to the public school and my well meaning shiksa mother who never converted but learned the Chanukah prayers and helped cook Seder dinners came to the school to teach the class about Chanukah. She taught them songs and all the kids got dreidels and had so much fun spinning the top for chocolate coins. It was nice to feel normal. A few weeks later a boy in a higher grade attacked me on the way to the bus and smashed my art project (we had made pig noses from solo cups to celebrate reading charlotte's web) into my face and called me a filthy jew. I didn't understand, i was more upset to lose the project i was so proud of. Other things happened. Things I wont talk about because putting them in context would doxx me. But a million reminders that i wasn't one of them. I wasn't welcome because i was Jewish. My parents divorced. My mother left. Far away so I'd only see her a handful of times growing up. And I went to live with my Dad in a city that seemed like it was overflowing with Jews. Everyone knew my holidays! In public school the teachers looked like my family and had familiar sounding names. We had the high holy days off just like christmas or easter. We sang Chanukah songs in the winter recital and nobody's mom had to come teach them to the class. Finally I belonged! My friends and cousins started planning for their b mitzvah celebrations and i asked for my own. I asked to go to hebrew school so i could be more like the people i belonged with and celebrate the things i loved about myself and them. "But you're not jewish." My father would say. This was news to me. The christ killer. The filthy jew. But a 10 year old has little power over their lives. So i didn't go. I didn't have a bat mitzva while my cousins had theirs. It was okay because i still belonged more than i ever had. But i was still jewish enough to keep the holidays and pray and fast and get sent with a box of matzo to my WASP grandmothers for easter, and have matzo packed in my lunch to eat in AP algebra in 7th grade and get asked if I'm a "Yid" by the teacher. And still to this day not know if it was endearment or insult but by then I knew even in this magical city being a Jew wasn't always safe. in highschool I tried to take hebrew lessons with a friend in a similar situation as me. She was also hungry to reconnect. I don't remember why the classes or the friendship fell through, but they did. My next "friend", a goy raised catholic from another neighborhood, liked to accuse me of being money driven when i picked up a penny on the sidewalk or tried to ask who was going to pay for the zine's she wanted to publish.
"What are you?" I'd get asked a lot on the street by curious strangers, "Where are you from?" "Are you Italian?" Always Italian. I never really understood that, but its become code in my head for "You look like you're white but something about you is very not white and I just can't place it, so Italian seems safe and polite." I'm not here to unpack the Italian part of all that. I don't even know what I'm unpacking for myself by writing this except I've been sick for days and I'm so tired and this is all that my foggy brain can wrap itself around. Later I'm an adult and on my own and getting bloodwork done. The Nurse is a black woman and so sweet to me. She can tell I'm nervous about the needles because I've already stumbled through my apologies for my herd to find veins. So she distracts me with small talk. Where do i live? I tell her. She looks worried for me. Tells me that it used to be a nice neighborhood before white people took it over and she warns me like she's my own mother to be careful because they aren't safe. I doublecheck the skin she's putting a needle into. Whatever she sees isn't white. I love her for it. For a moment I belong there with her. She doesn't ask what I am or where i'm from, but she knows what i'm not. I'm the only one keeping the holidays with my family. We celebrate Passover because I go home to my fathers and cook the dinner and print out the Haggadah and lead the Seder to the tune of my drunk catholic stepmother eating my food and telling me i'll never be a jew. She's more of a jew than I'll ever be because she grew up in a jewish neighborhood and her friends were all jews and she married a jew and i was just playing pretend. I stopped going home for holidays and they stopped observing anything except Christmas. I marry a goy. "Is he a jew?" is the first thing my father asks and he's disappointed when i say no. He's abusive, i run. I end up living in the attic of this older old money WASP couple who need a live in house sitter. They're pillars of their church and they know someone from the WASP side of my family very well and its a funny coincidence and they think i belong there. I know from their divest from Israel bumper stickers that i don't. Then they find out I consider myself Jewish and i see the light in their eyes die and its replaced by something hard and disappointed. Now, while writing this, i can laugh about being the jew in someone's attic. But then, it was only a few months after that they started coming up with excuses for why I needed to move out. I did, their excuses never manifested into reality. I got married again. A jew this time! a Jewish medical professional liek grandma always wanted. She's a convert and her ex was a rabbinical student. I think maybe i'm home finally. She has to understand. I'm not Jewish enough for her. We don't keep holidays at home because i'm not a jew. I cry every year when pesach comes and goes and i haven't recited the plagues or eaten matzo piled high with horseradish. She insists on putting up a christmas tree. She turns abusive. I run.
I'm alone now and no longer in that magic jewish city. I'm far away and surrounded by mega churches and cows and the bagels suck and people quote the bible at me like some call and response that i don't have the cheat code for and I don't belong here at all but i'm finally finally free to light my menorah and recite the plagues and study torah with the group i found here on tumblr who love and accept me even though i'm patrilineal. Oct. 7th happened a few weeks after I moved here. I worry about my family back home and i think no one will look for Jews here among the cows and mega churches, so I can be a safe place for them to run if things get bad again. But i still don't fit in here. I don't look right. The last name I have now is common here and too white for whatever people see when they look in my face. I get interrogated about it a lot. But i learned quickly how to smile and say "have a blessed day". I hide my menorah when maintenance comes to work on my apartment. I flew home last month. Just for a visit. I've never been away from home this far or this long. And I'm the type that covers nerves and anxiety with chattiness, so at the airport i made a for-now-friend while we both waited for the plane to board. She's Puerto Rican. We talk about our lives. Our families. Her twin sister and i go by the same nickname and so we're family now. We talk about food. So much food and how much we love cooking and how important food was at home. "Are you Italian?" she asks as we're stepping through the hatch into the plane. Why always Italian? I wonder for the millionth time in my life. And I freeze up for a moment between fighting my carry-on over the gap and terror that I'm about to see the light go out behind her eyes and i'll lose this for-now friend. "No," i laugh but its not a real laugh and i see the concern in her face as we squeeze through the aisle because she can hear the apprehension in my voice, "I'm Jewish." And something strange happened because her face lit up and she smiled and said "No way?! You guys have GREAT food!"
#I don't know why i wrote this only that i needed to#jumblr#ashkenazi#white passing#antisemitism#judenhass#oct 7#hope#okay to reblog
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Dragon Age Masterlist
Codex Entries
Lucanis Lunchboxes - What if Lucanis packed Rook lunchboxes with little notes in them throughout the main story? A Belated Gift <- START HERE Gnocchi with Pesto Grilled Dalish Cod Magister's Honey Pastry Prociutto with Antivan Salad Assan's First Catch Emmrich's Cake Nevarran Chocolate Cherry Torte Spite's Inedible Minestrone Toasted Vanilla Gelato Dalish Stripweed Nettle Soup Spite's Shoelace Bolognese
Party Banter
Burn After Reading - Bellara and Lucanis discuss her writing projects. Spite is along for the ride. Emmrich steps in for some paternal support. Pt 1 Bellara's Book Notes <- START HERE Pt 2 Bellara's Unread Book Pt 3 Bellara's Writing Anxieties Pt 4 Bellara Takes A Leap Pt 5 Work Knives, Home Knives Pt 6 Two Sets of Knives Pt 7 Bellara's Other Book Pt 8 Spite Wants To Set A Flame Pt 9 Spite Has Questions Pt 10 Spite, Love, and Limes Pt 11 Lucanis Enlists Emmrich's Help Pt 12 Emmrich Gives Spite "The Talk"
#dragon age#dragon age veilguard#dragon age the veilguard#datv#datv spoilers#dav spoilers#lucanis dellamorte#lucanis x rook#headcanon#fic writing#rookanis#da:tv#da:v#dragon age lucanis#lucanis romance#fanfiction#da codex#let him cook#spite dragon age#spite x rook#rook x lucanis#rook x spite#masterlist
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Part 13: If You Stay
Masterlist - Part 1 - Part 2 - Part 3 - Part 4 - Part 5 - Part 6 - Part 7 - Part 8 - Part 9 - Part 10 - Part 11 - Part 12
And I find it bittersweet (cause you gave me something to lose)
(In which, an all over the place writer, writes an all over the place chapter)
Pairing: Paige Bueckers X Azzi Fudd
Themes: Angst with some Hurt/Comfort and a little bit of Fluff
Words: 13.1K
TW: Swearing, Slightly Suggestive Content, Mentions of Divorce, Drinking
A/N: Hello my lovelies <3 So clearly that 48 to 72 hours deadline completely evaded me but here I am! I've always gotten asks about how many chapters GH will be and normally it's an estimate but I can almost for certain say that after this one, there will be two more chapters. This part is, like I said, a little all over the place as I start to tie in loose ends and bring everything together but it's pretty important as we start our journey to the end. This isn't particularly well-edited because as well know I hate editing but I eventually will go back and edit so any typos/errors you see are much-appreciated. As always, your live reacts give me life, so let me know what you liked, what you didn't and what you'd like to see next. Have a lovely weekend my loves <3
May 2033
Paige wakes up alone to an empty bed. Her eyes open to the feel of her fingers reaching out and finding nothing but the soft material of her crinkled bedsheets. She stares at the empty space, gaze fixated on the way the sunlight hits the exact spot Azzi had been curled up in and lets her mind wander back to yesterday -god everything had been fine just 24 hours ago- when the rays of sunshine coming through the window had cast lines of gold across the brunette’s face. It wasn’t often that Paige woke up before Azzi, but for some reason she had yesterday. Maybe it was the universe’s way of giving her one last chance to memorize an image that she’s not sure when she’ll be able to see again. Paige traces her hands along the linen, blinking back tears, and she swears she can still feel the heat of Stephie and Azzi’s bodies radiating off of it. It’s unfair, she knows, to expect them to have stayed when it’s the one thing she herself can’t commit to doing but still, that awareness does little to dull the ache reverberating through her chest.
Sighing to herself, Paige shifts onto her back, turning away from the empty space that almost feels taunting. She gives herself a minute, taking deep breaths to chase away the erraticness in her heartbeat and the moisture in her eyes before finally sitting up and leaning against the headboard. Her eyebrows knit together when she notices the bag in the corner -the pink duffel Azzi had packed for last night- and she almost gasps. It wasn’t like Azzi to forget her stuff, even when escaping. And then she hears it, the familiar giggles of a little girl echoing from her kitchen and Paige feels her heart break and fix itself at the same time.
They’d stayed.
Paige flings the covers off of herself, making it from the guest bedroom to the stairs in record time. She almost slips on the fifth step as she races down the stairs, every part of her alight with the need to just see Stephie and Azzi. Her feet skid to a halt before the kitchen doorway and her breath catches in her lungs, hand immediately clutching at her chest as she takes in the scene in front of her. It’s the three most important people of her life gathered around the kitchen counter. Azzi’s flipping pancakes, a soft grin on her face as she listens to Drew and Stephie -both of them already with a stack of pancakes on their respective plates- who are animatedly arguing about whether banana or chocolate chips go better with pancakes.
“Come on Uncle Drew,” Stephie drawls, “choc-chips are the best-est-est-est and ‘nanas are boooooring.”
“Bananas are not boring,” Drew counters, his voice filled with dramatic offense, “you can mash them in the pancake or eat them on the side or on top of the stack. Bananas are versatile.”
Stephie scrunches her nose and Paige smiles as the little girl gives her brother a pointed look, “I don’t know what vers-a-tile means so that doesn’t even matter to me.”
Azzi snorts, “I don’t think that’s how that works Stephie-bean.”
“Does too,” Stephie pouts and then juts her fork out at Drew, “here Uncle Drew, try it and you’ll see choc-chips are so much better than that,” she looks disdainfully at the young man’s plate.
Drew dutifully accepts the bite of food, chewing it at an exaggeratedly slow pace as he pretends to contemplate how he feels about it.
“I mean it’s not bad,” he says finally, before a smirk breaks out on his lips, “but banana’s clear.”
“Nah, I don’t know about that,” Paige says, finally making her presence known as she walks over to Stephie’s side, “You’re both wrong. Blueberries are better with pancakes than both bananas and chocolate chips,” she reaches out to ruffle Stephie’s hair, smile faltering when the little girl dodges her hand, “Steph-”
“Mama,” gone is the happy child that had been casually bantering with Drew; Stephie’s face is ashen with the remnants of her emotions from last night as shift herself as far away from Paige as possible, “I wanna go home.”
Her words feel like a sword, pricking against the bubble of delusion Paige had created mere seconds ago; the wishful thought that maybe they could ignore what had happened last night, that they could just close the lid on the jar of darkness they’d opened and pretend the obsidian hadn’t slipped out, clouding the paradise they’d built before. And maybe that’s Paige’s problem. Avoidance. She’d pushed herself towards Stephie and Azzi, acting like there wasn’t a harness -bound together with the ropes of all the grievances, all the fears, that the past had left in her- and now she was stuck, so close to reaching them but unable to finally get there.
Azzi’s eyes flicker conflictedly between Paige’s ashen face and Stephie’s stormy one, her teeth gnawing at her bottom lip, “you’ve still got some more left on your plate Stephie-bean,”
“I don’t want the rest,” Stephie says adamantly, pushing the plate away from her, “I’m not hungry anymore.”
“Stephie we don’t waste food,” Azzi says it like it’s a reprimand but Paige knows it’s for her sake, to give her more time with Stephie, and a mix of guilt and gratefulness pools in her stomach as fights the urge to pull the younger woman into her arms and kiss away the stress lines that have formed on her forehead in the last 24 hours.
“Then pack it and we can take it home,” Stephie slides off the counter, tiny arms crossing over her chest as she looks at her mother with pleading eyes, “please Mama, I don’t wanna be here anymore.”
“Stephie-” Paige tries to say, reaching out once again for the little girl.
“Excuse me Coach Bueckers,” Stephie sidesteps the older woman, her voice far colder than a little girl’s voice should -far colder than anything she’s ever used with her Miss Buecks- and it feels like shards of ice prodding against Paige’s heart.
“Stephie please-”
The little girl refuses to meet her gaze but Paige notices the way her eyes glance towards her for the briefest moment, like she wants nothing more than to turn around and fling herself at the older woman. But the look is gone as quick as it came and Stephie’s face hardens -and Paige hates herself for being the reason why- as she looks at her mother.
“Please can we go home now Mama?”
Azzi sighs, “yeah bean, we can go home. Unless-” she hesitates, eyes locking with Paige’s, “unless- maybe Miss Buecks has a reason we should stay?”
And Paige knows this is Azzi giving her one last chance, one last opportunity to say the right things, to keep Stephie and Azzi with her. It’s why she hadn’t left this morning; she’d been waiting to see if Paige was ready. And all Paige has to do is open her mouth and make the promises that she couldn’t last night; shut the door on her escape plan -to New York and the Liberty- and she can open the one that leads to her perfect dream; that leads to a forever with Stephie and Azzi. But that’s the thing; what if forever doesn’t last? After all, the last time she’d trusted in it -trusted the same woman in front of her to be hers always- forever had turned out to be a myth. But Paige isn’t ready. And so she averts Azzi’s gaze, keeps her mouth shut and looks away before she can see the hope disappear from the brunette’s face.
“Right,” Azzi swallows, “alright then uh -you’re right Stephie- we should- we should go home. You go wash your face and uh- Mama’s gonna go grab our stuff and then- then we can go.”
The last words make an indiscernible noise creak out of Paige’s lips as she watches Stephie make her way towards the bathroom. Azzi carefully flips the final pancake onto a plate -one with a stack of blueberry pancakes- before turning the stove off and beelining for the stairs towards the guest room. But Paige is quicker, curling her fingers around the younger woman’s wrist to keep her in place.
“Az,” she breathes out, unsure what to say- unsure what she even wants to say.
Azzi doesn’t look at her, “I ordered groceries.”
“What?”
“You didn’t have any food and I- I wanted to make pancakes,” Azzi explains, “but uh- I got more than just pancake stuff. There’s eggs and milk and that stupid cereal that you like and just- just basic groceries you know. And I know you don’t like veggies but I had to get some because they’re good for you Paige okay but don’t- don’t worry- I balanced it out with all those ridiculously unhealthy snacks you like.”
“Azzi,” Paige’s voice cracks, “you didn’t have to-”
“I did,” Azzi cuts her off, “you just- you can’t live off of fucking takeout okay,” a lone tear slides down her cheek, “and I got- I got enough groceries to last you two weeks but you- you’ll have to get more eventually if-” she stops herself but they both know where that sentences was going.
If you’re gonna live here- if you’re gonna live by yourself.
“I just-” Paige struggles to get the words out, “I need some more time.”
“I know,” Azzi finally looks at her and for a second Paige almost wishes she hadn’t because the hurt -the please just say you’ll stay- swimming in the younger woman’s eyes is almost too much to bear, “I know you need time and you- you can have it,” she brushes her thumb against Paige’s waterline, “but you can’t have both. You can’t have time and us.”
Why not, Paige wants to scream, wants to stomp her feet like a petulant toddler but she knows Azzi’s right, knows that they have to be apart until she figures it out. And so she nods at the brunette’s words as Azzi gently caresses her cheek -fingers lingering just a little longer than they should- before she rushes upstairs to grab her and Stephie’s overnight bag.
Paige watches her go before she disappears out of sight, and the blonde falls back against the counter. Closing her eyes as she takes in a couple of deep breaths, she swears the air has never felt more acidic. She can feel Drew looking at her; can almost see the contemplative -maybe even concerned- look in his eyes without opening her own.
“What?” she bites out, harsher than intended.
“Nothing,” Drew hesitates, “I just- I didn’t think Azzi would have stayed last night.”
Paige shrugs, eyes still closed, “I asked her to.”
“I figured but I- I guess I didn’t expect her to agree,” Drew says quietly.
There’s an undercurrent to her brother’s tone that has Paige finally opening her eyes, fixing him with a stern gaze, “what exactly are you trying to say Drew?”
“Nothing,” Drew repeats but the nervous shuffle of his feet say something entirely different.
“Drew.”
“She stayed Paige,” his voice breaks unexpectedly, “last night, this morning, she- she stayed.”
There’s a beat of silence as Paige stares at her brothers, absorbing his words when the unexpected flash of anger hits, “seriously?”
“What?” Drew’s taken aback by the fire in his sister's eyes.
“What do you mean what? One fucking stack of pancakes and suddenly all that shit you said to me last night- you don’t believe it anymore? All of that’s forgotten now?”
“That’s not-”
“Jesus fucking christ Drew,” Paige pinches the bridge of her nose and she’s fully aware her anger is misdirected -that it’s herself, she’s mad at- but she continues ranting at her brother anyways, “you made me overthink everything Drew. I was doing fine, we were doing fine and then- then you said all of that shit last night, reminded me of everything and now here we are the next morning and what? You’re not mad at Azzi anymore? She stays one fucking night and all is forgiven? You’ve changed your whole fucking mind-”
“You can’t blame me-” Drew begins to cut her off loudly but then there’s another voice -soft and small- interrupting both of them as they turn to see Stephie staring at them, her expression almost fearful at the sound of them arguing. And Paige hates herself a little bit for putting all these new expressions on the little girl’s face; she misses when she used to be the reason for her smile.
“That’s- that’s two bad words Miss-” Stephie stops herself, swallowing away the familiar name, “I mean- Coach Bueckers.”
“Sorry Stephie,” Paige whispers, pausing slightly before she takes a nervous step towards the girl, “so does that- does that mean I owe you two kisses?”
Stephie’s face wobbles, her bottom lip trembling as she nods slowly, “yeah you do.”
Paige breathes shakily as she kneels down in front of the little girl, eyes drinking in the sight of having her this close -like they know they might not get this moment again- as she slowly pulls her into her arms. Stephie is warm and soft and familiar and Paige wishes she would never have to let the little girl go. She squeezes her to her chest as she delicately places her lips against Stephies left cheek.
“I’m sorry sweetheart,” she whispers against the little girl’s soft skin, hoping the child knows it isn’t just for the swearing before she presses another fluttering kiss against Stephie’s right cheek, “I’m so sorry.”
And then, just as Stephie’s about to pull out of her grasp, Paige stops her, pressing her lips to the little girl’s forehead. When she pulls back, Stephie’s staring at her with a confused look on her face.
“You only owed me two,” she says matter-of-factly, “what was the last one for?”
Paige gives the little girl a sad smile as she brushes away a strand of curly hair that had gotten loose from her ponytail, “just because you’re my Stephie-bean.”
Stephie stares at her and Paige can see a myriad of emotions flicker behind her tiny eyes. She opens her mouth, like she’s about to say something and Paige’s heart thumps in anticipation, but then the sound of Azzi’s footsteps coming down echoes from the stairs and Stephie pushes away from her. And suddenly, Paige feels empty, like the most vital parts of her are missing.
“You ready to go Stephie-bean?” Azzi asks, mustering on a brave voice for her daughter but Paige can hear the way it’s cracking, can tell from her red-rimmed eyes that she’d taken a little longer than necessary upstairs to fix herself.
“Yeah Mama,” Stephie takes her mother’s outstretched hand, “let’s go home.”
The walk through the foyer and outside towards Azzi car feels like it takes hours. Drew doesn’t come all the way, stopping at the front door and giving Stephie a quick high-five that draws a brief smile from the little girl. He doesn’t say anything to Azzi but there’s an underlying softness in the way he tips his head towards her as they nod at each other. And then it’s just the three of them and Paige swears they’re all walking just a little bit slower than they normally do, like they’re trying to savor this moment just a little longer and prolong the inevitable.
She leans against the side of the car as Azzi buckles Stephie into her carseat. The little girl keeps on her brave face, avoiding eye contact with both Paige and her mother as she focuses firmly in front of her. When Azzi closes the backdoor, Stephie’s face disappearing behind the tinted windows, Paige wants to scream. Everything in her feels like it’s burning and freezing at the same time.
Azzi hesitates as she’s about to get into the driver’s seat, biting her lip as she turns back towards Paige.
“You should know that I - that Stephie and I- we-” she pauses, like she’s scared to say the rest of it, “we want you- we want you forever Paige,” both of them suck in a deep breath as the confession looms in the air above them, “and I know you need time and you should take it,” Azzi says softly, her hand reaching almost halfway to caress Paige’s cheek before falling forlornly back to her sides, “but we can’t- we won’t wait forever.”
***
August 2031
Paige is normally a big fan of All-Star weekend; she relishes the chaos of the weekend, getting the opportunity to connect with her fellow peers in a way that wasn’t possible during the rest of the season and just didn’t quite happen at this level outside of it. But she’s definitely not a fan of it this year, considering it’s being held in her team’s city, in Dallas. Six years later and still, something about this city doesn’t quite feel right, doesn’t feel quite like a place she can call home.
But still, at least it had given her the chance to not have to be in her apartment this weekend. Unlike her teammates who were more than comfortable staying in their respective homes, Paige had taken up the WNBA’s offer to stay where the rest of the non-Wings players were staying. It’s ironic that the sterile walls of an unfamiliar hotel somehow feel more comforting than a home that’s supposed to be hers. Except, the apartment -the one she’d moved into after the divorce after giving Oliva their house in an act of goodwill- feels cold and empty and Paige has done little to rectify it. She pretends it’s because she’s too busy, that she’ll get to hanging up the picture frames and decorating the walls eventually. But there’s a part of her that knows she’s likely just stalling the inevitable, that the apartment is as temporary as it gets until she finally lets herself make the decision to to leave Dallas.
The quiet ding of the elevator opening has Paige sighing as she shakes her mind of that daunting thought. It’s why she’d rushed out of her room in the first place, not wanting to be trapped with herself for longer than necessary. The silence has become her worst enemy, enhancing the loneliness that she’s felt ever since the divorce- maybe even longer.
Divorce.
God she hates that word, has hated it since her parents had sat her down and said they were getting one. She’d always told herself she wouldn’t become another divorce statistic like them but clearly history liked repeating itself. And the worst part of it, Paige thinks, is that she doesn’t regret the divorce -thinks it might be one of the only right decisions she’s made in the last six years- but maybe she regrets that marriage, regrets selling Olivia a dream, she’d subconsciously always known she wouldn’t be able to fulfill.
Thinking of Olivia makes Paige feel awful. She hadn’t done anything outrightly wrong to the other woman, never raised her voice or said anything untoward and she’d definitely never cheated. Well, not physically at least. But she’d gotten married to the reporter for all the wrong reasons, trying to fit a puzzle piece that had all the wrong edges into the jigsaw of her life even though she’d known the empty space in her heart could only be filled by one person. For her part, Olivia had been just as good at pretending as Paige was, acting like she couldn’t see the cracks in their relationship or the water that was seeping in through them.
And then something shifted -maybe the water had finally gone over their head- and just like she’d been the one to bring up the idea of getting married, Olivia was the one who had filed for divorce. And Paige thinks maybe the worst thing she ever did to Olivia, is the way she didn’t fight it once. She remembers the hesitation in her ex-wife’s eyes, remembers the slight pleading look on her face as if she wanted Paige to at least resist it a little bit. But she hadn’t; she’d simply nodded and signed. That was the end of the Olivia, Paige knew and from then on the sweet, bubbly, slightly over-enthusiastic reporter who’d stumbled over her question at Paige’s first media availability transformed into a cold ex-wife who could keep up a charade of cordiality for appearances, but never refrained from a cutting jab here and there.
The elevator dings open and Paige steps into the lobby, straightening her hoodie a little bit as she scans the area for familiar faces. Finding no one she’s particularly interested in talking to, she’d just about to head to the bar when her eyes land on a little girl nervously bouncing on her feet next to a vase of flowers that’s almost double her height. She can’t be older than three years old and Paige can tell from the way her bottom lip is trembling, that the young child is doing her absolute best to hold in tears. Something constricts in her heart -something almost more than just empathy for the little girl- as Paige makes her way over.
Gently, trying not to scare the girl, Paige kneels in front of her, “hey sweetheart.”
When the little girl turns to look at her, familiar dark brown doey eyes filled with unshed tears, her breath hitches in her throat and Paige suddenly realizes why she’d felt that tug in her heart. This is Azzi’s kid.
“H-hi,” the little girl manages to splutter, playing with her fingers as she regards Paige with a way expression, clearly trying to discern whether she’s safe or not.
“Hey,” Paige repeats, smiling reassuringly, “you okay?”
The little girl nods slowly but there must something about the warmth in Paige’s smile that she pauses, rebellious teardrops running down her face as she goes from nodding to shaking her head.
“I-I-I-I- lost,” she wails.
“Oh sweetheart it’s okay,” Paige tries to say, hands instinctively reaching out to run up and down the little girl’s shoulders.
“I was- I was ‘posed to be with Aunty J but she- she was talking and I saw pu-ple flow-es,” she points to the vase through her tears, “so I came to see but then- but then- I look back and Aunty J no there anymore and I want- I want my Mama,” she heaves, fully sobbing now, “I want my Mama.”
“It’s okay sweetheart, shhh,” Paige comforts the little girl as she stands back up, lacing her own fingers through her tinier ones, “how about we go and try to find your Mama?”
She’s about to turn around when feels a tug on her hand and when she looks down, the young child is shaking her head, adamantly planting her feet firmly on the floor.
“We can’t go,” she says firmly, “Mama says if I get lost, I stay where I am and Mama will find me. And-,” she hesitates as she looks Paige up and down, “Mama says I don’t go anywhere with a st-anger.”
It shouldn’t sting -because that’s what Paige is, a stranger- but it’s an unsettling reminder that this is a world like nothing she’d ever imagined when she was younger, a world where Azzi’s daughter doesn’t know her.
“So we can’t go. We have to stay here and Mama will find me,” the little girl says again and despite the tears still swimming in her eyes, there’s complete confidence -trust- in her voice that her mother -that Azzi- will find her.
“Okay,” Paige agrees softly, “but is it okay if I wait with you?”
Azzi’s daughter looks at her with a contemplative look for a couple of seconds before a bright grin explodes on her face and Paige thinks it feels a little bit like a ray of sunshine bombarding into her otherwise cloudy world.
“Okay,” the little girl grins happily before holding out a tiny hand, “I’m Stephanie Katarina Fudd.”
Paige laughs at the formality as she shakes Stephanie’s hand, “I’m Paige Madison Bueckers.”
“Nice to meet you Miss Buecks,” Stephanie chirps as smiles up at the woman.
“It’s Bueckers,” Paige tries to correct as Stephanie scrunches up her nose.
“That’s what I said,” she says with a confused look on her face, “Miss Buecks.”
Paige opens her mouth to try and correct her again but stops, deciding she’s not about to argue with the little girl and that she quite likes the incorrect way Stephanie says her name. Instead she lets herself fall to the ground, leaning against the pillar as she stretches out her legs in front of her. Stephanie raises an eyebrow at the actions but eventually sits down next to her and Paige smiles. They sit in silence for a bit as Paige reaches for her phone, considering texting Azzi for a brief second before she eventually decides to text Jana -who she thinks might just be Stephanie’s Aunty J- instead to let Azzi know Stephanie was with her.
“I know you,” Stephanie says suddenly and Paige looks away from the phone to see the little girl’s eyes wide with recognition.
“I thought you said I was a stranger,” Paige cocks a teasing eyebrow.
“You are,” Stephanie says matter-of-factly, “but I seen you at Mama’s game sometimes.”
“I’ve seen you too,” Paige admits.
“You’re good at bask-ball,” Stephanie states and the thing is, Paige has heard and read so many people say she’s great at basketball but there’s something about the way Stephanie says it -something about the genuine innocence of it- that makes her beam with pride.
“I guess I am,” she bumps Stephanie’s shoulder as she winks at her.
“I love bask-ball,” Stephaniee’s eyes gleam as she says it and Paige knows that expression -knows that slight look of madness that’s just the beginning of falling in love with a sport.
“Yeah?” she asks casually, “you play ball?”
Stephanie nods enthusiastically, “Mama got me a hoop for Ch-istmas -just like the one she had when she littler- and she p-omised that when I’m bigger, she’s gonna lemme go bask-ball camp.”
It’s hard not to grin along with Stephanie’s ranting, especially not when her determination to play basketball -one that reminds Paige a lot of herself- shines through her words.
“You any good,” Paige teases, biting back a laugh when the little girl’s face contorts in offense, like she can’t even believe someone would have the audacity to question her basketball skills.
“Of course I am. I’m Azzi Fudd’s daughter,” Stephanie says proudly, blissfully unaware of the way Paige's smile wobbles for a second at the statement, “but Mama says one day, I’mma be even gooder than her.”
“Can I get your autograph now then?”
Stephanie scrunches her nose, “what’s an au-to-gra-ph?”
“Wait,” Paige stands up, on a mission to find a pen, but Stephanie immediately grabs her hand.
The little girl’s eyes are wide with anxiety as she looks up at Paige, “no Miss Buecks don’t leave me.”
“Oh sweetheart I’m not,” Paige crouches back down in front of Stephanie, thumbs reaching out to rub the little girl’s cheeks in reassurance, “I’m gonna go right there to get something,” she points to the the reception desk, “I’ll be back in one minutes. I swear.”
“Pinky p-omise?” Stephanie raises her pinky and Paige diligently intertwines her own around it.
“Pinky promise,” she says, before practically skipping over to where she’d spotted a cup-holder full of pens. She can feel Stephanie’s anxious eyes piercing into the back of her head and if possible, the smile she’s had on her face since meeting the little girl, somehow deepens. It’s dangerous, she knows, becoming so enamored with Azzi’s daughter but her heart has always moved faster than her head, and Paige still hasn’t quite figured out how to stop that.
“You’re back,” Stephanie claps happily when Paige comes back to her and the blonde beams at the affection in her voice.
“Told you I would be,” Paige grins as she plops back down next to the little girl, holding out the pen she’d found.
“Why you get pen?” Stephanie asks, staring at it like it’s a foreign object.
“Because you need a pen to give me your autograph,” Paige explains, “an autograph is when someone famous signs their name on something for someone,” she holds out her arm that is currently covered by a grey hoodie, “will you sign my hoodie?”
“Silly Miss Buecks,” Stephanie chides, “You and Mama are famous. I’m not famous.”
“Not yet. But if you’re as good at basketball as you say you are, then one day, Stephanie Katarina Fudd, you are gonna be so famous. Just like me and your Mama,” Paige taps the little girl’s nose, releasing the giggle it elicits from her and she thinks it might be her new favorite sound, “and I wanna be the first person who gets your autograph.”
“Can I get yours too?” Stephanie asks, her tone a little shy and Paige thinks that forget an autograph, she’d give her the world if she’d asked for it.
“Of course you can bean,” the nickname slips out before she can catch it and Paige’s mind travels back to her wedding day, back to the phone-call with Azzi.
“Mama calls me bean too,” Stephanie says, as she begins to messily try and write her name on the sleeve of Paige’s hoodie, “she calls me Stephie-bean.”
As if on cue, Azzi’s voice fills the air, tinged with a slight bit of panic and Paige feels her heart catch in her throat. Six years they’ve been apart, something always thrums in her every time she feels Azzi’s presence near her. But it feels almost electric this time. The memories of the last time they’d seen each other, the night they’d spent together after this year’s National Championship game linger in the air and Paige shivers like she can still feels the softness of Azzi’s skin underneath her fingertips; can still hear the breathlessness of her moans in her hears.
“Stephie-bean,” Azzi calls out and Stephanie’s eyes dart towards her mother’s voice as she immediately stands up, little feet tripping over each other as she rushes to get to the younger woman.
“MAMA,” Stephanie yells, flinging herself into her mother’s arms and Paige watches as Azzi cradles the little girl to her chest, kissing all over her face. Something pangs in her chest, and she wishes she were a part of that embrace too. And if all the dreams they’d dreamt together when they were younger had come true, she would’ve been.
“Stephie what have I said about running off,” Azzi scolds as she coaxes the little girl's face out of her neck.
“I din-t run off,” Stephanie defends petulantly, “I go to look at pu-ple flow-es cause they looked so pretty but then when I turned around, Aunty J gone,’ her face wobbles at the memory, “I was so scay-ed Mama cause I lost and ‘lone but then,” her voice changes immediately as she turns around to point at Paige, who freezes when Azzi’s gaze lands on her, “Miss Buecks find me!”
“Miss Buecks,” Azzi repeats dazedly as Stephanie begins to pull her towards Paige, unaware of the anxious tension between the two adults.
“This is Miss Buecks,” Stephahnie introduces the two of them, “she find me and she tol’ me she help me find you but I say that Stephie can’t move cause Stephie have to stay right here cause Mama says if Stephie lost, Stephie don’t move,” the little girl says animatedly and both adults laugh at the random switch to third-person, “but Miss Buckes say she’ll stay with me and so I not ‘care anymore cause I have Miss Buecks,” she says casually, naive to the way it makes both Paige and Azzi swallows, “and look Mama,” she eagerly grabs Paige’s sleeve, “I give Miss Buecks my auto-gaph.”
“That’s, that’s lovely sweetheart,” Azzi says softly before she turns to Paige -and Paige wonders if it’ll ever stop, if the way her stomach swoons every time the brunette looks at her will ever go away-, “thank you for texting Jana and thank you- thank you for staying with her.”
Paige shrugs as casually as she can, “don’t gotta thank me,” she nudges Stephanie, “we had a great time together didn’t we Stephanie?”
The little girl nods enthusiastically, “the great-est-est-est time,” she exclaims to her mother, “Miss Buecks is so cool.”
“Thanks Stephie-” Paige hesitates, unsure if she has the right to use the nickname, “Stephanie. You’re really cool too.”
Stephanie practically glows at the compliment, “Mama, Miss Buecks thinks I’m cool and- and- and- she say that I’m gonna be famous one day. That’s why she wanted my auto-gaph. Cause I’mma be a big bask-ball star just like you two.”
Azzi ruffles the little girl’s hair before looking at Paige with an indiscernible expression, “just like us huh?”
“Maybe even better,” Paige says softly.
“I guess we’ll find out,” Azzi grins before leaning down to pick her daughter up -the sight of it invoking something warm and fuzzy in Paige’s stomach- “alright Stephie-bean, say bye to Miss Buecks. We gotta go get ready the orange carpet and I gotta go yell at your Aunty J for losing you again,” she winks at Paige who lets out a laugh.
And she hasn’t laughed like this -laughed as much as she has in these last few minutes with Stephanie- in so long that she’d almost forgotten what it sounded like.
“Bye Miss Buecks,” Stephanie waves over her mother’s shoulder.
“Bye Stephanie,” Paige waves before hesitating for a second, and then she calls out, “hey Azzi?”
Azzi turns around slightly, humming in response, “what’s up?”
“I like that you call her Stephie-bean,” Paige admits nervously, hoping Azzi will understand what she means and by the way the brunette’s eyes soften, it’s clear she does.
“It just felt right,” Azzi says softly; her mouth opens like she wants to say more -something more than what their current colleague-esque relationship allows for- but in the end, she settles on something far more mundane, “see you around Bueckers.”
“See ya,” Paige whispers back and if she stands completely still, watching Stephanie and Azzi walking all the way until they turn a corner and she can’t see them anymore, well that’s nobody’s business but her own.
That’s the first night Paige lets herself wonder about the possibilities of becoming a Golden State Valkyrie.
***
June 2033
Dream 64 Valkyries 87
Paige has never had particularly strong feelings towards the Atlanta Dream. They weren’t a particularly bad team, nor were they a particularly great team and Paige had simply never had an experience with them -whether it was a fan of the league or as a player in it- that was worth remembering for her to feel anything towards them. But tonight, tonight Paige fucking hates the Atlanta Dream.
Okay maybe she doesn’t hate the team.
She hates a certain player, a certain #11 wearing French player who’d had the audacity to hold her Stephie, to wrap her arms around her Azzi. Paige had spent the first couple of minutes of warm-ups with a deep scowl on her face as she’d watched Clémence interact with her girls. She’d hated the way Stephie grinned at the French woman, hated the way Azzi had laughed at something she’d said. But most of all Paige hated that she hadn’t been able to do any of that -hadn’t been on the receiving end of Stephie’s giggles or Azzi’s warm smile- for almost three weeks now. God she missed them so fucking much.
It was until Jana had tapped her on the back -a knowing look in her teammate’s eyes- that Paige had finally turned away from the scene. She’d channeled all her anger and frustration into the game, playing as the most aggressive version of herself. And it had paid off in the form of a 31 points, 7 assists, 4 rebounds and 3 stocks game, another statline cementing her position in the rather early race for MVP. But all of that feels futile now as Paige -signing autographs before she had to head off to media- notices Stephie go racing back into Clémence’s arms, the little girl’s face bright with happiness as the French woman catches her and twirls her around. From the corner of her eyes, she notices Azzi walking towards the two of them and Paige normally loves Azzi’s smile -think’s it’s nothing short of being the prettiest sight in the world- but she thinks she might hate it a little bit right now when it’s directed at Clémence.
“Aunty Chérie,” Stephie’s squeals echo clearly in Paige’s ears, despite the noise of the crowd surround her, “you played so good today.”
“Merci ma chérie,” Clémence's voice is saccharine sweet, “I’m very happy to see you. I have missed you lots. I was thinking,” Paige continues to sign another jersey but her ears are fully tuned into the conversation happening a couple meters away as Clémence’s attention turns towards Azzi, “we are leaving tomorrow morning so I have some time tonight. So I was thinking maybe I could take you and Stephie out to dinner tonight? Unless-” Paige feels both Clemence’s and Azzi’s eyes flicker to herself and she tries to keep her focus on the fans in front of her, “unless perhaps you are going with someone else?”
Paige waits with bated breath for Azzi’s answer, wishing her telepathic plea for the brunette say no, could somehow reach her but it’s Stephie who answers first.
“Mama please can we go,” the little girl begs immediately -her tone one that Paige knows to be the one she uses when she’s trying to get her mother to agree, “please, please, please. We haven’t gotten dinner with Aunty Chérie in so long.”
“Stephie-” there’s hesitation in Azzi’s voice but Paige knows that she’s likely to cave into her daughter’s wishes -after all Stephie isn’t asking for anything ridiculous- and she knows she has to get away, not wanting to hear anymore about Clémence’s stupid fucking dinner plans.
Giving the fans in front of her a tight-lipped smile, Paige slowly backs away from them, eyes searching for Joyce -her companion to face the press tonight- as she heads towards the media-room. She’s so focused on looking for her teammate or perhaps she’s too in her head but she doesn’t spot the assistant carrying water bottles coming. The two of them collide with a large crash that rings around Chase Center as the bottles go flying across the court. Paige’s cheeks turn a deep shade of pink as she feels the eyes of everyone on her -none more piercing than Azzi’s- but she doesn’t dare turn around. Instead she shoots the assistant an apologetic look, gathering as many water bottles as in front of her, before she’s bolting to the press room, wondering what the fuck she's done for the universe to keep testing her like this.
***
Paige is the last person left in the locker room. By the time she and Joyce had returned from the press conference, most of the team had fizzled out. And so she’d taken her time -ignoring the weird look Joyce gave her considering normally they were all eager to get home- showering and getting changed. She’d come out of the shower to a desolate locker room and as she’d sat on the bench, drying her damp hair, she’d let herself succumb to all the thoughts she’d been suppressing.
It’s somehow worse this time; it hurts more in a way that Paige hadn’t known was possible. They hadn’t been together nearly as long as they were back then and their relationship was barely defined. But at least last time, Paige had been able to run to another side of the country where she wasn’t constantly reminded of her ex. Azzi isn’t even technically an ex this time, but there’s no avoiding her. Not when they’re on the same team, not when she’s a coach at her daughter’s camp. And Paige doesn’t quite know what’s harder, trying to find oxygen in an air devoid of Azzi and Stephie’s presence, or trying to breathe when they’re near her.
Perhaps that’s why it’s so different. Paige has lost Azzi before and even if that doesn’t make the hurt any less, at least she has a blueprint for how to cope with it. But she doesn’t know how to deal with losing Stephie, doesn’t know how to not miss the little girl’s smile and her big doey eyes and the way she’d used to wrap her arms around Paige like she was trying to bind them together forever.
But more than anything, more than missing Azzi or Stephie, Paige misses the three of them together. She misses Azzi’s exasperated look when she and Stephie would indulge in some sort of ridiculous drama. She misses the little girl’s mischievous look before she’d launch herself into both of their arms. She misses her own soft smile as she’d watch the two of them engage in the most mundane things. She misses the peaceful silence as they’d eat together and the noisy chaos when they’d argue over what movie to watch afterwards. She misses everything.
And the worst part is that she knows she wouldn’t be missing any of it, if it wasn’t for the barriers she’s put up herself. This is a cage of Paige’s own making and the key to open the lock rests in her own hands. She just needs to be brave enough to use it. Azzi words run amok in her head, the reassurance that Paige could have time clouded by the reluctant warning that eventually that time would run out.
“Hey,” she snaps herself out of her thoughts to see Azzi cautiously entering the locker room, her playing jersey swapped from a casual green top and cargo pants.
Paige swallows, “hi.”
“I uh- I was um-” Azzi’s eyes nervously dart around the room as she strides over to her locker, picking up the pink lipgloss -one Paige has the taste of memorized- that’s sitting on the bench under it, “I forgot this so I uh- I came back to grab it.”
“Cool,” Paige replies monotonously but her head’s already racing with thoughts of will you let her kiss it off of you the way you let me? And she knows -she trusts- that Azzi won’t but even the possibility of it lights a small fire within her.
Azzi chews on her lips as she nods, before starting to walk towards the door but she stops last second, turning around with the starts of a smile on her lips, “you were amazing tonight P. I mean you have been since the season started but tonight especially, you were just- you were you. You were awesome.”
Paige absorbs the compliments, tries to use it to douse the simmering jealousy that’s flaming up within her at the knowledge that once Azzi leaves this locker room, she’s likely going with Clémence.
“Thanks,” the blonde manages to get out and it’s a little short and rather icy but Paige thinks it’s probably better than saying all the other things that are on the tip of her tongue.
Azzi’s face dims at the curt reply, smile faltering as she nods, “anytime, P.”
That should be it. Paige should let her go, should be content with this small interaction that’s the most she’s gotten from outside of practice in weeks. But then the bitter words are waterfalling from her lips faster than she can stop them and despite the regret she feels immediately after, there’s a part of her that’s relieved when it makes Azzi come to a halt right in front of the door.
“Your girl played well too,” she bites out, the acidic words burning her tongue.
Azzi doesn’t turn around but Paige notices the way her shoulders go rigid, “don’t do this Paige. You know she’s not my girl.”
Paige ignores her, “11 points, 2 rebounds, 1 assist. Not bad numbers. Decent. But not better than yours of course.”
“Paige,” there's a warning note in Azzi’s voice, like she knows exactly where Paige is going with this.
“I’m just saying, “ Paige shrugs with a casualness that’s in stark contrast to the tension lingering in the air, “she’s a decent player. But you’d never be in her shadow. Never be known as just her anything.”
Azzi turns around slowly and Paige feels her anger dissipate as quickly as it had erupted when she takes in the way the brunette’s eyes are brimming with tears.
“Seriously?” Azzi grits out, “you’re seriously gonna throw that in my face right now?”
“I’m not throwing anything in your face. I’m stating a fact-”
“Oh bullshit-”
“It’s not bullshit,” Paige yells before she sucks in a sharp breath, closing her eyes to calm herself down before she continues, “it’s not bullshit,” she repeats, “it is a fact and that fact is the reason why we’re here right now.”
“What do you mean?” Azzi crosses her arms across her body.
“Nine years ago you said no-”
“Oh my god,” Azzi says exasperatedly, “we can’t keep going over this again.”
“We have to Azzi,” Paige cuts her off, “we have to because you said no. And you broke my heart and you broke my trust. And that’s why we’re here right now. That’s why I made the deal with the Liberty and that’s why I can’t let of my escape plan and that’s why I can’t promise to stay and that’s why we have to keep going over it. Because I’m trying, “her voice cracks as the first tear slides down, “god Azzi- I’m trying so fucking hard baby but how do I know you won’t say no me -to us- again?”
Azzi stares at her with an undecipherable expression, her fists clenching and unclenching by her sides. It feels like an eternity passes in between them as they look at each other, breathing heavily almost in sync, until the brunette finally speaks.
“Well how do I know you won’t leave again?”
Paige blinks in confusion, “excuse me?”
“You keep accusing me of all of these things Paige but you’re the one that keeps leaving,” Azzi says and they both know she isn’t just talking about nine years ago, “I know- I know I made a mistake. But when I said no all I asked for was a little bit of time. That’s all I asked for Paige. Time. Just like you’re asking for right now. And I know- I know we said a whole lot of shit that night -I said a bunch of fucking things I shouldn’t have- but- god Paige you didn’t even give it a day. I came to find you less than 24 hours later and you were gone,” she chokes on the last word and Paige wants nothing more than to cradle the younger woman in her arms, take away her pain and shield her from ever feeling anything like it again.
“Az-”
“And if you’d just waited -just given me a little bit of time,” Azzi continues as if she hadn’t even heard the blonde attempt to speak, “then maybe you would have known that I wasn’t saying no forever. Just for a little bit, just for then. But you just- you left.”
“You said a lot more than just no,” Paige says frustratedly.
It’s Azzi’s turn to look guilty and Paige can almost see the memories of that night flashing in her mind, “I know that but I would’ve taken it all back if you’d just waited.”
“How could I have known that?” Paige whispers and she’s not sure if she’s defending herself from Azzi or from that voice in her head -the one she’d done her best to silence- that’s always wondered if she’d made a mistake immediately leaving for Dallas the morning after.
“You couldn’t have,” Azzi says softly, sounding almost defeated, “the same way that you don’t know that I won’t say no again. The same way that I don’t know if you’ll leave again,” she sighs as she sits down next to Paige, “but that’s life Paige. We don’t know what’s gonna happen in the future and we can’t- we can’t predict what someone else will do. All we can do is try and trust ourselves and trust each other.”
“You make it sound so easy,” Paige nudges her shoulder and Azzi lets out a short laugh.
“I know it’s not. Trust me, I know it’s hard. There’s about five hundred different voices in my head saying that I should stop waiting or whatever it is I’m doing right now. That I should let you go for good. That even if you end this whole Liberty bullshit, you’ll still leave me -leave us- eventually.”
“But?” Paige presses and she feels like she’s teetering on the edge of a cliff, like the next words out of Azzi’s mouth will determine whether she falls or flies.
“But,” Azzi breathes out as she turns to look at Paige with a slightly wistful smile, “there’s this one voice in my head, clearer than all the rest that says I should trust you -that I should believe in us- that maybe we just need to get through this one last hurdle to get back to each other,” the younger woman reaches out to squeeze Paige’s hand gently before she stands up, “I think you just need to find that voice too P.”
“I’m scared Az,” Paige says softly.
“I am too,” Azzi admits as she leans down to brush the blonde’s tears away with her thumb, “trusting is really fucking scary. I get it. but maybe- maybe it would be a little less scary if we did it together.”
Paige shudders when Azzi presses a kiss to her forehead, the brunette's lips lingering long after she’s embedded every unspoken thought into it. She pulls away almost reluctantly, patting Paige’s cheeks lightly before starting to walk back towards the door.
“Azzi,” the blonde calls out, mouth going a little drying when Azzi turns over her shoulder, “don’t go to dinner with Clémence.”
Go with me. Let me take you and Stephie out to dinner instead.
“Don’t hold on to the deal with the Liberty,” Azzi says quietly in lieu of an actual answer, “say you’ll stay.”
Paige falters, “Az I-”
“I already told you P,” there’s a sad smile on Azzi’s face before she turns away, “you can have time or you can have us but you can’t have both. Not right now.
“Azzi-”
“I hope you find that voice soon Paige and I hope it leads you back to me.”
***
August 2032
Paige is standing in a corner -a dirty Shirley in her hand- cackling at a joke that Cam had just made when she sees her entering and the laughter dies in her throat. Cam notices the change immediately, her eyes tracking Paige’s gaze until they land on the brunette who’s being pulled into a series of congratulatory hugs by players from other countries.
“So where did y’all go last night?” the LA Sparks center asks casually
“What?” Paige asks distractedly, her eyes narrowing when she notices a familiar French player inching towards the door for a hug of her own.
“You and Azzi,” Cam clarifies and Paige swallows at the mention of her name, “y’all disappeared while we were all still celebrating. Lowkey felt like we were back in Belarus all over again when y’all just kept going off somewhere with each other,” the taller woman shoots Paige a teasing grin, “so where’d you go?”
“Just uh- just needed some air,” Paige bites her lip at the lie.
Because the truth is that once they’d left the hotel bar, and they’d practically pounced on each other -from the elevator till they’d made it to Paige’s hotel room- they’d barely come up for air. The feeling of each other’s lips and bare skin was more intoxicating than any drink they’d consumed -maybe even more intoxicating than the Olympic Gold medal they’d finally won together earlier that day- and neither of them seemed to care about unimportant matters such as breathing.
Cam quirks an eyebrow as she sips at her drink, “if you say so Bueckers.”
“I do say so,” Paige retorts before dislodging herself from the wall she’d been leaning against, eyes still tracking every moment Azzi made, “we should- we should go say hi.”
“We should, should we?” Cam smirks but the sweet angel she is, she falls into step easily with Paige as they start walking across the room.
The banquet hall is buzzing with players dancing and drinking and mingling with each other. Now that the basketball portion of the Olympics was over, they’d all returned from being fierce competitors playing for their country, to being the friendly co-players they all were. Laughter and chatter fills the air as teammates and rivals alike, reconnect at the FIBA-sponsored party that had almost all of the women’s basketball players participating in Bris2032 in attendance.
“Azziiii,” Cam squeals as the two of them finally reach the Valkyries superstar who’d just finished hugging Gabby.
Azzi grins when she sees Cam but it slips a little when she notices Paige next to her. She’s quick to fix it, eyes going back to Cam as she pulls the taller woman into a hug. Something pinches against Paige’s heart and she forces herself to look away; her gaze landing instead on where Gabby has walked away from the three of them to slip an arm around Marine’s waist. Paige stares wistfully at the scene -at the way Marine relaxes into Gabby’s touch as she continues whatever conversation she’d been involved in. It’s all she wants and instinctively, her eyes wander back to Azzi.
“Hey,” Paige says slowly as Azzi lets go of Cam, disappointment coursing through her veins when all she gets is a nod of acknowledgement.
“So Azzi I was just asking Paige here, where y’all disappeared to last night?” Cam asks with a teasing tone.
Azzi blanches as the question, “oh um- I- uh I wanted to go check in on Stephie.”
“And you needed Paige to come with you for that?”
A distinctly pink hue begins at the base of Azzi’s neck, climbing up until it tints her cheeks, “I was a little tipsy and uh- just wanted the support I guess.”
Paige almost snorts at the response. Azzi had been way beyond tipsy and Paige wouldn’t have been any support, considering she’d been maybe two drinks away from blacking out. But she supposes, Cam probably doesn’t need to know that and she definitely doesn’t need to know what it had led to.
“Interesting,” the taller blonde looks between the two women as she takes another sip of her drink, “Paige just said y’all needed some air.”
“I mean that- that was definitely a part of it too. The bar was getting pretty hot-” this time Paige does snort at Azzi’s answer which gets her an amused look from Cam and a very unamused look from the brunette herself.
Cam puts her hands up in surrender, “listen if Paige says y’all needed air and if you say you needed to go see Stephie, I believe you,” she says but that cheeky grin on her face says the exact opposite.
“Speaking of Stephie. It’s uh- it’s almost her bedtime and I should uh- I should call my Mom so I can say goodnight,” Azzi manages a tightlipped smile towards the two other women before she disappears into the crowd, heading towards the balcony.
Paige hesitates for a second before she turns to face Cam and that shit-eating, knowing smirk on her friend’s face almost has her giving into her pride and swallowing the words she’s about to say. Almost.
“I’m uh- I’mma go to,” she stumbles out.
“Oh of course,” Cam grins sly, “bet Azzi needs some more support huh?”
Paige shakes her head, flashing Cam her middle finger -and rolling her eyes when it causes the taller woman to laugh- as she follows after Azzi. The chill Brisbane air swarms around her as she steps out into the balcony. Azzi’s standing right by the railing, her phone held right above her as she facetimes her daughter. Paige catches on quickly to the conversation, realizing that the little girl is telling her mother about how Tim had let her have ice-cream after dinner.
“Stephanie Katarina Fudd,” Paige hears Tim’s voice echo through the phone as Stephanie’s eyes go wide on the screen, “I thought it was gonna be our little secret?”
She holds in a laugh, leaning back against the door, as the little girl splutters trying to justify her tattle-taling, “it’s Mama, Pops. I can’t hide things from my Mama.”
Tim scoffs but there’s no genuine irritation to it, “that’s the last time I give you ice-cream.”
Stephanie shoots him an unimpressed look, “you say that all the time Pops and then you give me ice-cream anyways.”
“She’s got you there,” Katie choruses from the back and Paige watches as she high-five her grand-daughter.
And she doesn’t quite know what that pang in her chest means, but she’s felt it every time she’s seen Stephani and the Fudds over the course of the Olympics. The Fudds had come to Brisbane -of course they had- and every time Paige caught sight of them in the stands or watched them from the corner of her eyes, it felt like something was stinging against her rib cage. They’d all had custom #35 Azzi jerseys and their cheers were louder than every other voice in the arena any time Team USA did anything and after each win, they’d been the first people down the stairs, ready to hug envelope Azzi in a hug. At the forefront of it was Stephanie, who’d ran into her mother’s arms at lightning quick speed and Paige had watched -hoping she was being at least somewhat conspicuous- as Azzi had spun the little girl around.
It wasn’t that the Fudds ignored Paige. In fact they’d made it a point to come over to her right after to wrap her up amidst themselves. Stephanie had come over too, her smile shy as she’d congratulated Paige on the wins. The little girl clearly didn’t quite remember their interaction from all-star last year -her eyes regarding Paige almost like a stranger- and the blonde consoles herself with the fact that Stephanie’s only four. Four year olds weren’t known for remembering things that had happened when they were three. Still, it hurt a little bit considering Paige thinks of that interaction more than she probably should.
But even though she’d still gotten the hugs and the smiles and the congratulations, it wasn’t quite the same, wasn’t anything like she’d picture during the conversations of we’ll get customized 5+35 Bueckers-Fudd jerseys for the Olympics she’d once had with Tim and Katie.
“Alright Stephie-Bean, Mama’s gonna head back into the party-” Paige refocuses on the conversation just in time to hear Azzi get cut off by her rather dramatic daughter.
“I can’t bel-ieve you went to another party without me Mama,” Stephanie drags out the words, “no Mama-good-night-kisses cause she pick party-time over Stephie time.”
The little girl’s joking but Paige can tell by the way it makes Azzi pause for a second -her shoulder stiffening just a little bit- that it’s hit a nerve. She wants to soothe it away, wants to wrap her arms around her from behind, hitch her chin over her neck and take away all of Azzi’s worries. And that bitter thought -the one that seems to surface every time her heart beats a little faster for the brunette, the one that had filled her head when she’d woken up next to the younger woman earlier this morning- takes birth in her head again. The thought she could have done all of that -would have the right to do it- if only Azzi had just said yes.
“I’ll make it up to you Stephie-bean,” she hears Azzi promise, “tomorrow, just you and me okay sweetheart? All of my time’s gonna be yours.”
Stephanie’s face immediately brightens up, “okay Mama,” she says happily as she blows a kiss to the screen, “love you Mama. Good night.”
“Good night sweet girl. I love you more,” Azzi choruses back, waving at the screen before she cuts the call.
It takes her a moment to turn around and Paige watches as Azzi takes in a deep breath, a subtle smile on her face as she takes in the Brisbane skyline. When she does finally turn around, surprise filters onto her expression at seeing the blonde standing there.
“Hey,” Paige whispers nervously, stuffing her hands into the pocket of her pants.
Azzi looks at her for a moment, “hi.”
They stand there rigidly, letting the tension -a completely different kind than the one that had encompassed them last night- simmer between them. It’s almost like they're daring each other to say something, to address the elephant in the room.
Azzi breaks first, “something you wanted to say?”
“Just wanted some air,” Paige says, cringing a little bit at the cliché line that she’s now used twice in one night.
“Right,” Azzi nods, moving towards the door, “guess I’ll leave you to it then.”
Her voice is tinged with an iciness that sets Paige on edge. They haven’t been like this in a while and she’d thought they’d let go of the resentful exes gimmick they’d had going on for the first couple of years. But the hardness in Azzi’s tone suggests that it’s back with vengeance tonight.
“Az-” Paige calls out.
“What?” Azzi asks loudly, biting her lip when the harshness of it almost makes the blonde stumble back, “sorry I-”
But before she can apologize, Paige finds herself retaliating with the same hardness in her own tone, “what’s your fucking problem?”
“My problem?” Azzi reels back, eyes flashing with anger, “are you seriously asking me that?”
“Yes. That’s clearly what I asked,” Paige retorts.
Azzi laughs devoid of emotion, “I woke up to an empty bed this morning and you’re asking me what my fucking problem is?”
Guilt inches it’s way up Paige’s spine but it pales in comparison to the anger that flickers in the pit of her stomach, “oh that’s rich coming from you.”
“Excuse me?”
“Is that not exactly what you did last time we fucked,” the profanity tastes acetous as it falls through Paige’s lips because it sounds wrong, like she’s insulting the sanctity of their relationship, no matter how broken it might be.
“No it’s not,” Azzi nostrils flare, “I told you I was leaving. I had the common fucking decency to let you know. I didn’t just sneak out.”
Paige rolls her eyes, “oh spare me the semantics. It’s all the same shit at the end of the day. We both left.”
“Oh fuck you Paige,” Azzi snarls as she tries to leave but Paige is quicker, fingers wrapping around her wrist to stop her.
And everything she’d been prepared to say dies in her throat because now they’re too close, chests heaving in harmony as their matching glares turn into something else. Paige’s eyes fall to Azzi’s lips, breath hitching when the brunette’s tongue darts out for a second to wet them. She tugs on Azzi’s wrist experimentally, pleased when there’s little hesitation and the younger woman lets herself be pulled closer. The air is electric with want as they lean in slowly, their noses brushing against each other as they wait for each other to make a move, to close the distance.
But then there’s the sound of someone clearing their throat, followed by someone else coughing and the two of them spring apart like they’ve been burned.
“Jesus Az, careful!” Jana’s concerned voice makes Paige’s ears perk up and she follows the Egyptians line of sight to see that Azzi had moved back so fast that she’d fallen back against the balcony railing.
“I’m fine,” Azzi says hurriedly but the shake in her voice betrays that she’s anything but.
“Are you?” Paige turns to find Aaliyah watching them with the wary gaze of someone who’s been around them and their bullshit far too long, “because uh- we can hear y’all yelling from inside.”
Azzi’s eyes shoot up, panic evident on her face, “you heard us? Did you- could you hear what we said?”
Paige scoffs loudly, “oh right yeah because that would be really fucking bad wouldn’t be it Azzi? God forbid anyone found out you fucked me.”
And she doesn’t even know why she’s arguing -honestly she’s just as embarrassed at the idea of their teammates and rivals and everyone else in between actually overhearing their argument- but it pinches a nerve and she pointedly looks away from Azzi’s ashen face.
“You guys fucked?” Paige flinches at how loud Jana is and Aaliyah lets out a low groan.
“Jana,” the Canadian warns, pinching the bridge of her nose.
“Sorry but like,” Jana looks back and forth between Paige and Azzi, dropping her voice, “y’all fucked?”
Paige sighs, feeling drained as she leans back against a pillar for support, “that’s what I said yes.”
If possible, Jana’s eyes get even wider, “so- so what does that mean for the two of you? Are you- are y’all gonna get back together?”
Azzi looks at Paige.
Paige looks at Azzi.
And it’s like they’re both imploring each other to answer Jana’s question and to answer it right.
“It means nothing,” it’s the wrong answer and Paige knows it even before she says it -can tell by the way Azzi barely reacts that she knows Paige doesn’t even really believe herself- but she thinks maybe they’re not quite ready to get it right. Not yet.
“Well there you go,” Azzi says quietly, shrugging nonchalantly at Jana, “it means nothing.”
Paige flinches at the repetition of her own words, looking away as Azzi starts walking towards the door again. The brunette’s shoulder brushes against the older woman’s -sparks igniting around them- and she hesitates.
“It means nothing,” Azzi repeats, her voice a longing whisper only meant for Paige’s ears, “but maybe it could’ve meant something. If you’d stayed.”
***
June 2033
Paige is sulking in her room -watching film to distract herself from the images of Clémence, Azzi and Stephie together from last night that her brain is hellbent on conjuring up- when her pity party is broken up by the sound of her doorbell. She has the urge to ignore it, to stay curled up in the same position she’s been in all day. It’s a rather pathetic way to have spent one of her rare days off but it’s the only thing she’d felt like doing. But then whoever’s outside her door starts to press the bell longer and Paige huffs -irritated by the loudness of it- as she forces herself out of bed.
She’s not sure who she was expecting. Perhaps Jana, who’d caught on rather quickly to what was happening between her two former teammates and had been making somewhat of an attempt to help fix it. Maybe Colleen, here to knock some sense into her on Azzi’s behalf. Or maybe even Tessa, who Paige had learned in the most awkward way, knew about them when the former Gamecock had made a teasing remark about the two of them the next practice, not knowing what had transpired two nights before. When both Paige and Azzi had immediately tensed, instead of blushing or rolling their eyes, Tessa had been perceptive enough to understand something had gone wrong. She’d been trying to help Jana ever since and Paige half expects it to be her at the door with words of wisdom and comfort alike.
Who she isn’t expecting is Tim Fudd.
His wife, she would’ve understood. After all Katie had done exactly that before and it was in the older woman’s nature to meddle just a little bit. Her husband, on the other hand, tended to stay as far out of things as possible. He could be a hovering coach and whenever Azzi’s spirits were low, he’d be there with a ridiculous dad joke and arms outstretched for a big bear hug. But when it came to his daughter’s personal life, Tim Fudd did his best not to interfere.
Tim smiles at Paige when she opens the door, one hand holding up a bottle of whiskey with a grin on his face while his other hand is hidden behind his back. He rolls his eyes fondly when he notices the skeptical look Paige shoots at his liquor of choice before he reveals the premade bottle of dirty Shirley he’s been hiding behind his back.
“Tsk tsk,” he grins mockingly, “what would the fans say if they knew their big bad rizzler can’t drink anything but a sweet cocktail?”
Paige shakes her head as she steps aside to let the man inside, “just cause I don’t drink cheap whiskey, doesn’t mean I don’t drink anything other than cocktails.”
“Cheap?!” Tim guffaws as the accusation, “I’ll have you know this is a Macallan.”
“You know that hat means nothing to me right,” Paige says as she follows his lead into her kitchen.
It’s almost foreign having somebody else in her space. Since Drew had left -rather hesitantly after seeing his sister’s condition- the house had been devoid of anyone else but Paige. Jana had tried to invite herself over a couple of times but it had gone in vain when Paige had chosen solitude over any company. It’s not that she particularly wants to be alone, it’s that she thinks -no, she knows- that there’s only two people who can cure this dreadful loneliness that feels like it’s become an innate part of existence.
“Sit,” Tim says as he rummages through Paige’s cupboards for two glasses.
Hesitating for a split second, Paige does as she's told, “did Azzi send you?”
“Are you hoping she did?’ Tim asks pointedly as he places two glasses one top of the counter, filling one with whiskey and other with dirty Shirley.
Paige swallows as she accepts the drink from his hand, “nah,” lies, “ just uh- just feels like something she’d do.”
Tim looks at her for a minute as he takes a sip of his whiskey.
“She didn’t send me,” he says finally and Paige tries to mask the tinge of disappointment his words send through her by taking a large swig of her shirley.
“This tastes like shit,” she grimaces, wiping her mouth with the back of hand.
“That premade stuff usually does. It’s that easy shit you know? The things that just exist without you doing any work. Just doesn’t hit the same as the harder stuff,” Tim says slowly as he leans back against his chair, a clear double meaning in his words.
“You’re using alcohol as a metaphor? So I guess Katie sent you then?” Paige manages a half-smile but she feels her stomach churn at the implication of what he’d just said.
Tim laughs, “it was my idea actually.”
“Her meddling rubbing off on you?” Paige quirks an eyebrow.
Tim shakes his head, “I’m not here to meddle. Just wanted to tell you a story.”
Paige sighs, “so you are here to meddle then.”
Tim ignores her, fiddling with the glass of whiskey in his hands, “did you know Katie and I almost didn’t end up together?”
Paige stares at the older man in shock. Maybe she shouldn’t be so surprised; relationships were complicated after all. But for all the years she’d known Tim and Katie, they’d always been just that. TimAndKatie. The epitome of stableness that had stood strong amongst all the other relationships Paige had watched break down one by one.
“Don’t look so shocked,” Tim says lightly when he notices how wide Paige’s eyes have gotten, “everyone makes mistakes. We’re all capable of doing dumb shit that almost makes us lose everything we’ve ever loved.”
Paige gulps, “what- what did you do?”
“I left,” Tim says slowly.
“You left?” the familiar words make Paige nauseous and she wonders if that slightly regretful look on Azzi’s dad’s face is echoed on her own.
“It was a couple months into our relationship and Katie and I had a huge fight. It was about her not letting me make a decision about Azzi,” Tim explains and the similarity of the situation almost makes Paige want to block her ears.
“It was something small, something stupid. Probably nothing that even mattered cause I don’t even remember it. But I remember how I felt. I was really fucking mad but more than anything I think- I think I was scared. Because that argument, it was a remind that even though I loved her so fucking much, Azzi wasn’t mine. Not yet. And that if I lost Katie, I’d lose her too. The idea of losing Katie was scary enough but losing both of them? I didn’t know how to deal with that,” Tim's voice shakes, like he’s relieving his biggest fears and Paige feels her own eyes start to water; his words settling salt in her still-raw open wounds.
“And it got so heated and we were yelling all this bullshit at each other that eventually I just- I didn’t know what else to do and I just- I started to leave. And Azzi- I guess we were so loud we woke her up- she- she saw me leaving,” there’s an unfamiliar grave look on the normally jovial old man’s face as he reminisces that night, “she ran down the stairs and threw herself at my knees begging me not to go but I- I was so mad and so fucking scared that I walked away anyways.”
“How- how did you fix it?” Paige asks, her voice almost pleading as she wipes away the droplets of water running freely down her cheeks.
“Well not immediately that’s for sure,” Tim cracks a smile, trying to lighten the mood, “took me a little bit of time to pull my head out of my ass and when I finally did, Katie wasn’t so quick to forgive me for it either. And it wasn’t about her or me or us, it was about Azzi. The first time I showed up, she didn’t even let me in. Said she could only let me through that door again if I could promise to stay. Because Azzi had seen me leave once and she wasn’t gonna let her see it again.”
“It must’ve killed you,” Paige whispers, her stomach twisting in knots, “the guilt of hurting her.”
Tim nods, “it did but I think- or at least I hope I’ve made up for it now.”
“You have,” Paige reaches over to squeeze his arm gently, “how did you get her to forgive you?”
“Simple,” Tim places his own hand over hers as he continues, “we talked it out. I explained all my fears to her. How scared I was of losing her, of losing Azzi. And she- she understood because she was scared too, scared of losing me, scared of Azzi losing me. In the end we were both scared of the same thing but all of that got a whole lot less scary when we faced it together.”
Maybe it would be a little less scary if we did it together
“How did you get over it,” Paige asks, almost desperately, “the fear of losing them? How did you move past that?”
Tim smiles wistfully, “time. Not time apart but time together. It wasn’t easy taking that first step, facing that fear but I knew if I wanted them, it was what I was gonna have to do. And I had to trust Katie, that if I stayed, she’d stay.”
“And she stayed,” Paige says softly.
“Yeah she did,” this time, Tim’s grin breaks through his entire, “and the more time she stayed, the more my trust in her grew until one day I just knew. I knew she wasn’t gonna leave ever again. Well, maybe she’s thought about it a couple of times like when I nearly burnt the house down tryna make cookies or when I accidentally tore a hole in our wall tryna hang up a photo frame.
Paige lets out a watery laugh as Tim winks at her, everything suddenly seeming a lot more simple than it had before the older man had walked through her door.
“I know it’s not quite the same for you and Azzi,” Tim continues slowly, “you guys have a history that Katie and I didn’t. You both have more reasons to be scared than the two of us did. But Paige, I’ve always thought you were it for my baby girl. From the moment she came back from USA camp and all she could talk about was you, I just knew.”
Paige can’t help the broken sob that escapes her lips and Tim immediately rounds the kitchen counter to wrap an arm around her shoulder.
“When she was pregnant with Stephie, she kept on asking for mint-choc chip ice cream. Said it was a craving or something. And she decorated everything for her in purple. All the baby clothes she bought were shades of purple,” he doesn’t quite say why Azzi did all of that but there’s a clear implication in his words.
And Paige thinks that probably, why she and Stephie are so similar, why they shared so many favorites, why the little girl had always felt like hers. Because Azzi had given a part of Paige to her daughter, even when she hadn’t had Paige herself.
“Katie and Azzi, they’re mine but I think- I think if maybe someone else had gotten to them first -someone who loved them just as much as I do- maybe there’s a chance things would be different but Paige,” Tim squeezes the younger woman gently, “I think Azzi’s always been waiting for you. Subconsciously at least. There’s never really been anybody elese for her. Her and Stephie, they’ve both always been waiting for you, they’ve both always been yours.”
“You mean that?” Paige asks croakily and she feels like she’s a teenager again, asking Tim to pinky promise that he’d like her box-dyed purple hair no matter what.
“I do,” Tim smiles as he looks at her, “and I think they’ll be yours forever. I think they want to be. You just have to say you’ll stay.”
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Wayne pov, implied neglect, abandonment
Wayne gets a call from Hawkins Elementary that Eddie hasn’t been to school in two days.
They couldn’t get ahold of Al on the phone, as usual. Wayne hopes his suspicions are wrong, but he already knows what he’s going to find when he shows up to the shabby old house on Philadelphia street with a McDonald’s bag in hand.
His knock on the door goes unanswered, but he sees small fingers and big round eyes peeking through the side window blinds.
“Hey, Eddie, it’s your Uncle Wayne. Open the door, it’s alright.”
Eddie shuffles away from the window, but there’s still no answer.
“You hungry? I brought those nugget things you like, that’s all. Some kinda toy in here too.”
After a moment, the door slowly opens a sliver. One big button eye peeks through the crack and a pale skinny arm reaches out.
Wayne hands over the food. “Gonna let me come inside?”
Eddie’s arm snakes back in with the bag like a claw machine. But after another moment, the door swings open fully, revealing Eddie in rumpled clothes at least a couple days worn. The shadows under his eyes tell Wayne all he needs to know.
“Dad’s gone to the store,” Eddie smiles nervously, he didn’t inherit Al’s ability to lie behind it. “He said he’ll be right back.”
Wayne just nods as he comes inside. One look around confirms what he already knew. By the window, there’s a blanket and a scatter of candy wrappers and empty soda cans where Eddie’s been sleeping. Waiting and watching the driveway for Al.
This wouldn’t be the first time Al’s gone off and left Eddie to fend for himself. Wayne’s been helping out as much as he can since Eddie’s poor mama passed. He doesn’t know much about raising kids but he knows Al’s one dumb selfish bastard to be leaving Eddie alone for days since the ripe age of 8.
Wayne ignores the twist in his chest and the stab of anger he feels and doesn’t mention it. He follows Eddie to the coffee table in front of the couch where Eddie digs into the McDonald’s sack.
“School called and said you weren’t there. You feelin’ bad?” He reaches out, gently pushing back Eddie’s wild curls to feel his forehead. He’s surprised Eddie lets him, too busy scarfing down chicken nuggets. “No fever.” Wayne notes, but Eddie’s hair needs a good wash.
Eddie’s narrow shoulders slump a bit. He doesn’t look at Wayne, tearing open his chocolate milk with his teeth.
“I just— didn’t wanna go today. I hate school. Miss Taylor always gives me a bad behavior grade even when I act the best in class. She calls me Junior. Munson Junior.”
“Thought you liked being called Junior. Like your dad.”
Eddie shrugs, those shadows darkening on him. “Everyone forgets I have my own name too. Sometimes I just wanna be Eddie.”
Already, he’s feeling the weight of his last name. Al taught him to hotwire the second he turned 10 and how to pick locks even before that. Munson tradition, Al wouldn’t listen when Wayne told him that’s bullshit. What seem like cool tricks to Eddie now already make him guilty in everyone’s eyes. Wayne’s been feeling it all his life, thanks to his old man and now Eddie’s got Al to thank for making it even worse.
“That’s good, you just keep reminding them,” Wayne says, being careful with his next words. “When you finish that, why don’t you go pack a bag, alright? You can come stay with me until your dad gets back.”
Eddie goes stiff, chewing slower now. “It— it hasn’t been long. He said he’d be right back.” His eyes drift over to Wayne, checking to see if he buys it. Wayne doesn’t. So Eddie huffs, “I wanna stay here. I hate the trailer park.”
That’s just him repeating Al’s shit talk, so Wayne doesn’t take offense. “Your friend’s been askin’ about you. That little girl next door.”
Eddie perks up at that, “Ronnie?” Wayne nods and thinks that does the trick for a second, but Eddie stubbornly sulks again. “I can’t go. Dad told me to stay here until he gets back.”
“Well, you shouldn’t be here alone. You don’t have to be.”
“I’m not scared to stay by myself,” Eddie insists, sitting up straighter, looking even younger trying to look older. “Dad said I’m not a little kid anymore. I’m 10 now and I can look after myself. He taught me to use the stove and everything. I always do fine on my own.”
“So he’s been leaving a lot, then? You know you can call me to come pick you up,” Wayne tries not to frame it like it’s Eddie’s fault, pointing to where his phone number is pinned on the fridge with a magnet.
Eddie’s lip wobbles despite how he tries to square his jaw.
“There’s nothing wrong.”
“You ain’t—”
“You said to call if I need you and I don’t need you, Wayne! I'm fine!”
Eddie shoves the food away, his eyes wide and shiny when he cuts them back to Wayne. Not glaring with anger, just hurt.
“It’s not fine,” Wayne tells him, gentle as the first time he held him, just a tiny thing all bundled up in Elizabeth’s knitting. “Your dad’s got his head in his ass again. You can’t stay here on your own, no matter what he said. I ain’t leaving you by yourself.”
“I’m not going.” Eddie’s more pleading now than arguing. “I have to stay here so Dad can find me when he gets back. Don’t you get that? If I’m not here, I won’t see him.”
That’s what it’s really about, Eddie thinking it’s his responsibility to keep up with his Dad. Instead of the other way around.
“If he comes looking for you, he’ll know where to find you.” But Al won’t. It’s never Eddie that he comes back for. Wayne doesn’t tell Eddie that, but now Eddie’s starting to learn that on his own. Al proved it to him time and time again.
“Why do you even care?” Eddie’s angry now. But it’s not really Wayne that he’s mad at. They both know that.
“It’s alright, son, c’mon now.” Wayne reaches for him but Eddie quickly pushes his hand away.
“You aren’t my dad.” Tears escape with the words, and seeing his pain hurts Wayne more than anything he could say, or do. He pushes Wayne again. “So why do you care? Why are you here?”
He doesn’t need an answer, he just needs to let it out.
So Wayne sits there while Eddie shoves his chest and cries harder, “You aren’t my dad. Why do you care?” Wayne curls his hands around Eddie’s smaller ones as the question turns to, “Why aren’t you?” Then it’s a broken little sob of, “Why aren’t you my dad?”
Wayne catches Eddie when he finally tires himself out, and instead of pushing Wayne away, Eddie’s clinging to him. Eddie’s holding on like Wayne’s all he’s got left in the world. Wayne hugs Eddie to his chest, wishing there was more he could do.
Al put a hole in Eddie and he’s digging it deeper everyday, one that Wayne won’t ever quite fit into. He tries to fill it the best he can, giving Eddie the only bedroom in the trailer, going to the talent show because Al never makes good on his promises to be there for Eddie, not letting Eddie stay in this damn house alone waiting for someone who’s never gonna show up. Maybe Wayne’s not that someone, but he can still be here for Eddie. And he’s gonna be.
“C’mon, let’s get you outta here.”
#munson family stuff on the mind sorry#eddie munson#wayne munson#stranger things#ficlet#ronnie ecker#al munson#rueswriting#mp
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of course i’m fat. not a lot of people are lucky enough to feel this way about food—having a constant, lurking urge to eat until you get to the point you physically cannot fit anymore is not normal.
but god, it’s wonderful. it’s so easy to lose yourself in a 3lb tin of chocolate coins. they were a gift because of some sale at costco and you know they’re supposed to last a long time but they’re just so… satisfying.
unwrapping each one becomes a game: two pieces of gold foil balled up and hidden in the pull out drawer of the bedside table. then, i slip the piece of chocolate in my mouth. it’s cheap kind of chocolate but that doesn’t stop my enjoyment. because after this one, i know there’s another waiting. and then another. and then another. the pile of gold foil takes up most of the space in the drawer.
that was the first time i ever got over full without even meaning to. the book was too good, i was too focused on the words to notice just how much of the candy i’d consumed, and it was just too easy.
so that’s what started it all, the first time is hard to forget. you’re full and aching but your mind still craves that feeling. the sugar and the motion of eating that just became so familiar. it takes a week after all 3lbs are gone to stop the craving, but by then you already know that if you just have one more bag of chocolates it’s going to feel so, so good…
i chased that feeling. my natural state was constant distraction, constant food, and nothing else. netflix was always playing in the background, my 3ds had animal crossing new leaf loaded with 300 hours already logged, and a radio was constantly going. and the snacks never stopped. one pack of oreos, the empty container stashed in a dresser afterwards. a bag of doritos, a box of brownie bites, a tray of tres leches meant to feed 10 people. apple turnovers warmed until they were gooey. so much cake—knowing that decadence was less than $10 away made getting over 200lbs incredibly easy.
the cravings drove everything. is it really my fault i ended up this heavy? i shouldn’t feel this way about food. i shouldn’t want to feel myself get heavier, getting out of breath struggling to walk up a hill shouldn’t make me wet. my belly inching closer to the steering wheel should be terrifying, being that close to losing independence shouldn’t be motivating me to eat. but it does and my 290lb body shows the proof, because who could resist that?
why would i resist that? people hate themselves for this. the more i eat, the more i love it all. the more i can’t stop. it’s just a matter of time before someone takes advantage of this—i was made to eat and everybody knows.
#talk#feedism.#feeder/feedee#feedee.#me#a lot of this are my personal experiences w just being a glutton#so many of my formative memories are food-related#writing
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