#Kids Coding Classes Near Me | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

sugudoe · 1 year ago

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𓈒ㅤׂㅤ ✎ ° 𝐖𝐇𝐄𝐍 𝐈 𝐊𝐈𝐒𝐒𝐄𝐃 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐓𝐄𝐀𝐂𝐇𝐄𝐑 ! ࣪₊ 𐙚

✶ 𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: being a kindergarten teacher is something you excel at, you even have two students you treat as if they were your own. not that they mind your endless devotion, much less do their dad, 𝐧𝐚𝐧𝐚𝐦𝐢 𝐤𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐨, if you could spare some attention to him as well.

✶ 𝐚. 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞: papamin!!!!!!! honestly i love papamin so much, i wish i could make that man a daddy. while on the topic, nanami is girl dad code, but for the plot he is sukuna’s and yuuji’s dad. also i loved writing sukuna as a baby, he is such a menace, he definitely was that kid who bite everyone. just posting this because i can’t wait till i post the series i’m making, i had to do something before. divider by: @cafekitsune

✶ 𝐬𝐲𝐥𝐥𝐚𝐛𝐮𝐬: pure fluff / ooc!sukuna / reader has no gender / no curse!au / modern!au / mention of death and grief (minor character)

✶ 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 3.7k

Yuuji thinks you are his princess, and you let him play with the wood horses and gallops around your desk, sometimes you even play pretend with him, accepting the roses he plucks from the school’s garden and sharing your sandwiches with him. He loves you very dearly, it’s not a secret he keeps that you are his favorite teacher, but it is yours that he is one of your favorites as well.

Now Sukuna, his twin brother, is a whole story. The two and a half years old siblings can be perceived as the perfect opposites, because Yuuji is adorable and expressive in good ways, and Sukuna tries to bite your ankles whenever you move near him sitting on the floor. His sharp teeth are always on showcase by his little smirk, he is a menace.

You know Sukuna might sometimes dislike you, not because you have done him terrible wrong, au contrarie, you have been a good teacher, a good human! He tries to grab your hair with his tiny fists and you put him in your lap quickly, staring at him with a cute smile, he thinks you are encouraging him to leave you bald but he ends up not caring anymore, and decides to snuggle against you and sleep. Only to wake up later with a bite on your wrist.

It’s love for your profession and for the children that you don’t report any of this to the superiors or his parent, you think hopefully that you can change his ways, make him better. It does work, credits be given, he used to be worse! He used to bite the other students, now his teeth are all over your and, unfortunately, his twin.

It’s something you try your best to control, gods be good, Yuuji only whines before slapping his brother’s head, and then Sukuna cries and comes to you. You open your arms and again, he is biting you.

“Ow, Kuna!” You move his head away from your skin. “What do you eat to have such sharp teeth, hm?”

He doesn’t answer you, his big eyes are filled with tears and he is wiggling towards any skin of yours to sink his canines.

“C’mere.” You grab him and adjust the baby in your hips, before moving towards the box filled with toys and grabbing a plastic one, you take it to the class bathroom and wash it, while Sukuna sits on the balcony, staring at you with his sad puppy eyes. “You are so cute, y’know that, right?” He nods, which takes you by surprise. “You can not keep biting me anymore, Sukuna, you get this?”

As expected, Sukuna doesn’t answer this time. He only gets what he wants.

“But let’s make a deal, you don’t bite me or Yuuji, you bite this whenever you feel like it, hm?”

Sukuna is not supposed to be with pacifiers anymore, something requested by his parent and passed to you through your boss. So it’s a little secret to let him have the blue whale in his mouth, he bites the thing so deeply that by the end of the week, you have to change it for a red rubber duck.

It’s keeps going like this for a couple more days until you notice the progress being made, Sukuna always has the toy by his gripping hands or in his pockets, and whenever he falls to the ground or gets pushed by a classmate, his little eyebrows crunch into an angry face. You think he is going to jump the kid or run at you and be a little vampire, but instead he grabs his toy and starts to violently munch on it.

It’s adorable, it makes you want to eat him.

But you noticed, obviously you did, how Sukuna has anger issues, and being a baby he has no idea how to control the anger but to externalize it with violence, and you gave him a escape plan. Now, he isn’t so angry anymore, sometimes he just squeezes the little toy, he also doesn’t spend his time with only you or his brother, he makes some new friends such as little Uraume, who follows Sukuna around and both keep sharing their lunches.

You do find one more problem arising, anytime Ijichi, who you learn is their butler, comes to pick the boys, Sukuna cries desperate for having to return his toy. You tried to let him have but the man refuses and your superior reprimanded you once, after catching you trying to give it. The next day, you notice quickly that Yuuji and Sukuna both have little red teeth marks on their arms.

You sigh desperate.

After class is over, few days later, Ijichi is late for the pickup, so you sat both Sukuna (sucking his little toy) and Yuuji (talking your ear off) down. They stop what both were doing and stare at you, one with pure sparkling eyes and the other with a raising eyebrow. You laugh at that.

“My darling cherubs, we need to talk.” You sit on the floor. “Kuna, you are not allowed to keep biting your brother, you know that. And you can’t bite him as well, Yuuji. You have to go to your papa, okay?”

The little one nods at you.

“Sukuna, honey, you can’t bring the duck home, we tried. But you can find another one to bite, hm?” He doesn’t answer, of course, he is two years he is not going on a quest for a rubber toy. “I’ll talk to Ijichi-san, for you, okay buddy?”

It takes you by surprise when Sukuna gets up and moves to sit on your lap, snuggling his face to your chest. When your arms go to close, Yuuji follows his twin and sits on you as well.

“Thank you, sensei.” Kuna’s little voice melts your heart even more, you hug them back instantly.

“I’ll do anything for the both of you.”

You don’t notice the presence behind you, or the fact that it’s been there since you sat down, and payed attention to everything you said, but mostly by how Sukuna went for you instantly and thanked you. The little bundle of angriness has his eyes closed, but his brother stares behind your shoulder and gasp, wiggling out of your touch and running towards the door.

“PAPA!” Yuuji screams making your heart jump. You turn back, staring at the scene. A tall blonde man, with formal clothes, kneels to the floor before opening his arms and grabbing Yuuji on his arms, kissing the pink hair of his baby.

You have heard the gossips towards the twins’s father, how exceptionally good looking he is, most charming and polite man anyone has ever seen or meet. And that he is single.

Of course, because of Ijichi being the one to bring and get the boys and the first teacher-parents’s meeting of the year being in just a few weeks, you haven’t met the man yet, but he here is, Nanami Kento, in all his glory.

You get up with Sukuna at the same time Nanami get up with Yuuji, and you notice right away that in his other hand he holds a bouquet of purple tulips.

“Look, Kuna, your papa is here.” You bounce the sleepy head on your lap, he opens his eyes before smiling a bit, and closing it again. “I think he got pretty tired after the playground today.” You laugh quietly before staring at the man, his eyes on his baby, a small smile on his face as well.

“Pleasure to meet you, Y/n-sensei.” It’s the first thing he says to you, his voice shaking your smile for a bit. “I’m sorry about being so late, the driver got busy with some stuff, so I had to come. I got you this, for the inconvenience.” He presents you the flowers, in your mind, he was going on a date, never in millions thoughts you would expect this.

“Oh, oh! Thank you, they are beautiful.” With your spare hand, you grab the flowers and smell them, smiling sweetly.

“I told papa you like those, sensei.” Yuuji says, with his eyes closed and large smile.

“Thank you, Yuuji, my charming knight.” You put the flowers on your desk before giving a pat to his head. “And thank you again, Mr. Nanami.”

“Again, I’m very sorry. But now, I think it’s time we go, right boys? Your sensei deserves to rest after the two of you.” Nanami grabs Sukuna from your arms, the boy open his eyes again for a second before falling into slumber. You help the male grabbing the twins backpacks and both of you move towards the parking lot.

When Nanami puts the babies in their seats, he turns to you grabbing the bags.

“Thank you for being their teacher, is not an easy job, but they both really like you.”

“It’s my pleasure, really. Sukuna and Yuuji make this job really worth it.” You answer sincerely, the door to the car is closed and the boys can’t hear you.

“I heard what you said to them, about the bites. I’ll get the toys for Sukuna, thank you for caring for him.“ Before Nanami gets into his car, he stops and turns back at you. “Would you need a ride? After all we did kept you here for longer than anticipated.”

You stare at the sky, dark clouds already reaching the sunset orange and pink, even the moon hangs more brightly than ever. You are inclined to accept, but you hold yourself.

“I would, any other day, but there is so much I have to do in the classroom and to grade the kid’s exercises, but thank you for the offer, Mr. Nanami.” You both exchange a smile before you wave at the awake Yuuji, staring at you by the window.

The next day and the others after, surprising everyone, Nanami is the one picking his sons up. His back is always tainted with the sunset from the corridor’s widows whenever he stays at the door, and a dozens of mothers and staff keep staring at him, searching for any opening to create a conversation. You are putting Yuuji’s bear beanie on, when you hear your boss asking Nanami for coffee with the excuse of talking about the boys, you laugh silently before grabbing the twins’s hands and moving towards their dad, giving an scape for him to move away from the woman.

“No need for the coffee ‘date’, the parents reunion with the teachers is this saturday, we all can talk there.” You say a bit loud, enough to send the message across, and all those people ready to jump at the blonde male move away.

“Thank you.” He whispers before grabbing the boys in his arms. “No ride today?”

Every once in a while, after the first time meeting Nanami, he has been asking you if you need a ride, and with a strength you don’t know where came from, you refuse nicely. It’s not that you don’t want, would be stupid to, it’s more for the fact that he is dreamily, you wouldn’t be any better than those who salivate at the sight of him. You could be worse.

“Not today, Mr. Nanami, these two made a mess in the bathroom, although I think Sukuna has a talent for arts, he painted the walls really well.”

“God, you’re joking.” You sign no with your head and the man sighs. “I’ll ask for the price of repair, please don’t worry about it, it’s my kids, I’ll fix it.”

“No need! Seriously, I believe just water and soap and it’ll be fine.” You grab Sukuna’s cheeks and he hides his face in his dad’s chest. “But if not, it’ll be a cute memory in the future, when they move classes or school.”

“I’m not going anywhere.” Yuuji squirms. “We’re staying with you forever, right Papa?”

Oh.

“C’mon, buddy, time to go home.” Nanami laughs his answer, and you move with them, holding their backpacks. It’s a little ritual now, you could say.

You wave them goodbye and return home that day with a slight tremble in your fingers, after this year most likely you wouldn’t see them ever again, and that fact made you terribly sad. You would miss pealing the fruits for Yuuji and being gifted half of it, would miss even the mark bites of Sukuna little mouth, even though he hadn’t been a menace in a long time now.

Admitting, you would miss Nanami and his lovely smile, the way he would ask you for a ride anytime. You should accept it, you know, but could you move on from this little crush you’ve been harboring, if you are meant to never see him again? Doubt it, no one can get over the Nanami Kento.

You sleep with those thoughts, these little moments you had with him and the sweet and gentle and chaotic memories you had with the twins. It’s a bittersweet feeling teachers have, you should be used to it by now, dealing with the fact that the babies don’t stay babies forever, only in your heart and memories. But there is something in that little family that shakes your core, that moves your mind and warms your heart, something that scares you.

Saturday comes but your anxiety stays. You decorate your classroom with a large table filled with charcuterie boards and juices, there is also paintings of the kids hanging by the walls, presents to give to their parents. All of them are on the corridor, you call for one couple after the other, for the intimacy of talking about their children.

You notice how each kid can resemble their parents in a comical and adorable way. Megumi, for example, who has his mom messy hair but his dad scowl, Nobara is energetic like her mom, and sensitive like her daddy who cries when gifted her painting.

You also see how they can be with their babies. Toge’s parents who are elated with your hand signs, and how you explain that you learned it in two months for the boy and has been using and teaching it in your class, for the other students to communicate with the him. Maki’s and Mai’s parents are stiff and bored, and you take notice of that to pay more attention to the girls, help if needed anything.

You do your job perfectly, but your eyes always go searching for a blonde man whenever you go call the next parents. He is not there yet, and you wonder if he won’t come. Maybe job related, maybe he forgot, you try to not be sad.

When you are taking Nanako’s and Mimiko’s fathers to the door, waving them goodbye, you catch sight of a man with beige suit and blue shirt, in his hands another bouquet of purple tulips.

“I told you we should have given something.” Mr. Geto whispers while staring at Nanami.

“Love, that’s not a ‘Thank you for being my kid’s teacher’ bouquet.” Mr. Satoru answers with a smirk your way.

“I miss when you would give me flowers.” Geto answers, his voice low because they are already by the end of the corridor.

“Huh? I gave your flowers last week?!”

Nanami and you are staring at the couple, until their figures disappear and both of you stare at each-other, smiling fondly at first and then laughing a second later.

“I’m guessing these are for me?” You ask when you move inside the classroom, Nanami following behind. You turn to him, and he nods, giving you the bouquet, perfumed perfectly. “Thank you.”

“I’m sorry I was late, the boys wanted to come as well but I had to keep them occupied and tired.” You nod laughing, before pointing at the table in front of your desk, putting your flowers there, he sits and you move towards the wall, grabbing two drawings.

“These are for you.” You sit by his side instead of in front of the man and give him the papers, he has a sweet smile while admiring the drawings. “I asked the class to draw their family, hasn’t had the time to check yet, but I hope it’s better than the one I saw earlier: the girl draw only her sister and their cats.”

“It’s perfect, don’t worry.” Nanami has his eyes on both drawings, side by side. You can tell which is which by the colors and traces, but none other, the art is basically the same. “This is Ijichi in the car, how cute.” Nanami points at the figure in a black suit driving a car besides the house in both paintings. You stares confused at the fifth stick person, besides Nanami and the twins. “Is that…?”

“I think so…” Your hands move to your mouth, hiding your growing smile when you notice characteristics in it that resembles you, specially a rubber duck in your hands, in Sukuna’s drawing. “I’m flattered they consider me family.”

“They are not wrong.” Nanami stares at you now. “That day we meet, you were helping them with one thing I had no idea how.” He moves the drawing to your desk. “I’m not their biological father, don’t know if you know that.” You don’t, so you keep yourself quiet and let him speak. “I was their godfather, been friends with their dad ever since we were little. Itadori Jin, great guy, that’s where they inherited that beautiful pink hair.” Nanami has a sad smile in his lips that break your heart. “He and his wife died in a car crash, first date since the birth of the babies, just two months old. Their grandfather was adamant on keeping them, but he realized he needed my help, so he let me adopt them officially.”

He sighs before grabbing his thighs.

“Recently I told them about their parents, that’s why Sukuna started the biting, his sorrow is physically showing. I tried to help but didn’t knew how, but you did, you handled it better than I could.”

“You are still a great father, they might not have come from you, but they are yours. And you did helped them, Sukuna might have received some slaps from Yuuji, but Yuu always hugged him whenever it became too much, and he listened to me instead of throwing a tantrum.” You hold his arm for a second before removing your hand. “You are raising them very well, Mr. Nanami, it’s not easy to be a parent, but you are doing fine.”

“Thank you, and please call me Kento.” It’s not professional, but you nod.

“Okay… Kento.” You whisper his name like a secret, and you wonder if you feel right, but it tastes like honey in your tongue. It’s just a second of both of you staring at each-other for his eyes to move to your lips. You should move back, but you don’t, nor you can. Instead, your eyes go to his pink lips as well. “We should wrap this up, it’s late, right?”

“Yeah, we should.” But none of you move, eyes moving to eyes and lips, over and over, you wet your lips, he groans and lunges at you. You accept him easily, moving your hands to circle his broad shoulders and touch his neck, while his large hands take your waist.

You shouldn’t be doing this, but it feels wrong to not be doing it. So you allow yourself to be kissed hungrily by Kento.

There is three knocks on the door before you both jump apart, your boss, the principal, makes her way in, eyes shinning at seeing Nanami.

“Mr. Nanami, so good to see you here! Would you like to come and have that coffee we were taking about some days ago?”

Kento looks at you, his hair is a little messy and his mouth is red, he looks even more ravishing than before. You cough awkward, grabbing your flowers, bag and the twins’s drawing before moving to his side.

“I’m so sorry, Principal, but Mr. Nanami is giving me a ride home.” The man has his hands on your back in an instant, moving both of you out of the class. “I see you monday.”

The two of you leave the baffled woman behind, Nanami has an eternal perfect smile charming his face, making you want to kiss him even more. Which you do, when he closes the door he opened for you, and enters the car you kiss him, when you both stop at a red light you kiss him. And when he let you at your house, his hands again in your back, he kisses you.

You are too tempted to bring him inside, even more to have your way with him, but he beats you to it, asking you to go out with him the next day.

It’s just the beginning of your blooming relationship, flowers every week, restaurant dates, kisses at every opportunity. You both keep yourselves occupied and yet reserved. He gives you rides home after most staff and students are gone, the boys happily talking with you all the way to your house, and he leaves you at your door with a peck the babies don’t see.

It’s at your last day of the year, all your students glued to you, crying red faces you promise them to always be there when needed, giving the parents your personal number, they happily accept it. Yuuji and Sukuna are the most devasted, their little hands keep you from moving far away from them, and when Nanami comes to pick them up, Sukuna cries together with his brother, taking you by surprise.

You tell them bye and run to your apartment, where you prepare a whole meal and dress nicely, soon you hear the door knocking. When you open, it takes three stunned seconds before two little babies are running to your arms, screaming happily to see you.

“Now it’s a good time to say, Y/n is staying in our lives.” Nanami says while hugging you, both boys in your arms holding you as well.

“Forever?” Sukuna asks, Yuuji stares at you waiting for the answer.

“Yes, my cherubs, forever.”

#♱ 𓂃 ࣪ ˖ on stage ! ᯤ #nanami kento x reader #nanami kento #nanami kento fluff #nanami x reader #nanami x y/n #jjk x reader #jujutsu fluff #jujutsu kaisen #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jjk nanami #jujutsu nanami #nanami fluff #nanami x you #jjk x y/n #jujutsu kaisen nanami #gege when i catch you gege #papamin au

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spicyschemmenti · 3 months ago

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FIRE DRILL FLIRTATION ➫ melissa schemmenti

pairing: melissa schemmenti x bimbo!teaching assistant!fem!reader

synopsis: during a routine fire drill, you stick a little too close to melissa, pressing against her and whispering sweet nothings that make her dangerously close to losing control

warnings: implied age gap, sexual tension, swearing, power dynamics?? work place setting, teasing, inappropriate behaviour

word count: 1.9k

author's note: omg, thanks for this request?? i loved writing it sm

based on this request: Melissa Schemmenti x Sassy Bimbo!Teaching Assistant!Fem reader mini series would be amazing! Kind of like your Alex Cabot ones but reader is more ditzy?

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The blaring fire alarm echoed through the halls of Abbott, sending kids and teachers pouring out of classrooms like a chaotic wave. You were supposed to be helping herd the kids toward the exit, but honestly? You were a little too distracted making sure your skirt didn’t ride up as you walked.

It wasn’t your fault that the outfit was maybe a little inappropriate for school. A tight, bubblegum-pink mini skirt that hugged your curves and showed off just enough leg to be dangerous, paired with a lacy, low-cut white tank top that was definitely pushing the limits of dress code. The little cropped cardigan you threw over it was more for show than anything else, and your glossy lips and perfectly winged eyeliner? Total bimbo perfection.

You knew the moment you caught Melissa’s eye this morning that she’d noticed. Her lips had pursed, her gaze lingering on your chest for a split second longer than necessary before she’d muttered something under her breath about “these damn kids” and stalked off.

Now, in the middle of a crowded hallway during a fire drill, you saw your chance.

“Ms Schemmenti!” you called out, your voice just a little too sweet as you teetered on your heels, pretending to look helpless as the crowd jostled you.

Melissa was a few steps ahead, guiding her class toward the doors with that no-nonsense attitude that made your knees weak. Her maroon blouse hugged her curves in all the right places, and those tight black slacks? Yeah, they weren’t doing you any favors either. She looked good. And the way she commanded the room, her voice calm but firm as she directed everyone toward safety? Ugh.

You bit your lip, feeling that familiar heat swirl low in your belly.

Melissa’s head snapped around at the sound of your voice, her eyes narrowing as she spotted you lagging behind. “Oh, for…” She muttered something under her breath, probably a prayer, and marched toward you with purpose.

“Come on, sweetheart,” she said, her tone clipped but not unkind as she grabbed your wrist and pulled you close. “Stick with me. I don’t need you gettin’ lost in this mess.”

Ohhh, she had no idea what she’d just done.

You let out a little breathy sigh, pressing yourself against her side like you needed her to keep you safe. Your arm looped through hers, your body molding to her, and you didn’t miss the way her muscles tensed at the sudden contact.

“Thanks, Ms Schemmenti,” you murmured, looking up at her with wide, innocent eyes. “It’s just… so crowded. And, like… I don’t wanna get trampled.”

Melissa’s jaw clenched. Jesus Christ, this girl’s gonna kill me.

She was trying—really trying—to focus on the kids and getting everyone outside safely, but it was damn near impossible when you were practically purring in her ear like that. And the way your body was pressed against her? Soft, warm, and so close. She could feel every curve, every subtle shift of your hips as you moved beside her.

Focus, Melissa. You’re at work. Surrounded by kids. This is not the time to be thinking about how good she smells.

But God help her, that sweet, floral perfume you wore was making her head swim.

“Sweetheart,” she murmured, her voice low and gruff as she tried to maintain her composure, “you’re supposed to be helpin’ me keep the kids calm, not clingin’ to me like a lost puppy.”

But instead of letting go, you just… giggled. A soft, airy sound that went straight to her core.

“But Ms Schemmenti,” you whispered, your lips brushing against her ear as the crowd pressed in closer, “you’re just… so strong.”

Melissa’s breath caught. Fuck.

Her grip on your waist tightened instinctively, her hand resting just a little lower than it probably should have been. You felt it immediately, of course. And instead of pulling away, you leaned into it, your body practically melting against her side.

“Oops,” you murmured, a mischievous sparkle dancing in your eyes as you looked up at her through your lashes. “Sorry. It’s just… kinda tight in here.”

Yeah, that’s not the only thing that’s tight right now, Melissa thought, her jaw tightening as she dragged her eyes away from the way your lips were so close to hers.

Her mind was racing. She was supposed to be focused. But all she could think about was how soft your skin felt against her, how your perfume was making her dizzy, and how your damn giggles were making her heart beat way too fast.

Meanwhile, you were having the time of your life.

You could feel the tension rolling off of her, the way her body was practically vibrating with restraint. And it was so much fun to push her buttons. Melissa Schemmenti was always so cool, so in control but right now? You had her completely flustered, and it was delicious.

“I like when you take charge,” you whispered, your voice barely audible over the noise, but you knew she heard it.

Melissa’s eyes snapped to yours, dark and dangerous, her jaw clenched so tight you thought she might crack a tooth.

“Sweetheart,” she murmured, her voice low enough that it sent a shiver straight down your spine. “You’re playin’ a dangerous game.”

Your lips curled into a sly smile, your eyes twinkling with mischief. “Me? I’m just followin’ directions…”

But you both knew that was a lie. And from the way her fingers tightened on your waist, pulling you just a little closer as the crowd started to thin

You weren’t the only one feeling the heat.

The cool air hit you like a wave as the crowd of kids and teachers spilled out into the parking lot. But even with the breeze brushing against your bare legs, the heat simmering between you and Melissa didn’t let up.

“Alright, everybody stay in your lines,” Melissa barked, her voice sharp as ever, but there was an edge to it that hadn’t been there before. Like she was barely holding it together.

You could see it—the way her jaw clenched, the furrow in her brow, the slight flush creeping up her neck. She was frazzled. And it wasn’t from the fire drill.

It’s from you.

“Ms Schemmenti,” you purred, sidling up to her again even though there was zero reason for you to be that close. The kids were fine, standing in neat little lines with the other teachers. But here you were, all wide-eyed and innocent, pressing your body against her arm like you needed her to keep you safe.

Melissa didn’t move away. But she also didn’t look at you.

“Why’re you still glued to my side, sweetheart?” she muttered, her voice a little too gruff.

You tilted your head, blinking up at her with that sweet, ditzy expression that always made her weak in the knees. “I dunno… I just feel safer when I’m with you,” you murmured, leaning in just enough that your lips brushed the shell of her ear.

Safe? Oh, honey. If only you knew.

Melissa’s entire body went rigid, her jaw so tight you thought she might actually break something. Her mind was a mess. On one hand, she was supposed to be keeping things professional. You were her coworker, for God’s sake. A sweet, bubbly, barely qualified teaching assistant who had no idea what she was doing half the time.

But on the other hand?

You were driving her insane.

Melissa wasn’t blind. She’d noticed the way you looked at her—how your eyes lingered just a little too long when she bent over to pick something up, how your smile got a little brighter when she was around, how you always found a reason to touch her, even if it was just a light brush of your hand against hers.

And now? Pressed up against her like this, your body warm and soft and way too close?

Jesus, Mary, and Joseph… I’m gonna lose my damn mind.

“Sweetheart,” Melissa growled softly, her voice barely above a whisper. “You need to—”

“Relax,” you interrupted, your voice dripping with sugar as you tilted your head and looked up at her with that innocent, wide-eyed gaze that had gotten you out of trouble more times than you could count.

“But I like being close to you,” you murmured, your glossy lips curling into a playful pout. Your fingers brushed against her arm, trailing down her forearm so lightly it was almost innocent. Almost.

Melissa snapped.

“Jesus,” she muttered, grabbing your wrist and pulling you away from the crowd so fast you barely had time to process what was happening.

“Whoa!” you giggled, stumbling a little in your heels as she guided you toward the side of the building where the crowd couldn’t see. “Ms Schemmenti, what’s the rush?”

Her grip on your wrist loosened, but she didn’t let go. Instead, she turned to face you, her body just a little too close, her eyes dark and filled with something you hadn’t seen before.

“Do you enjoy testin’ my patience?” she murmured, her voice low and dangerous, making your breath catch in your throat.

You blinked up at her, all wide-eyed innocence, but the smirk tugging at the corners of your lips gave you away. “I dunno what you’re talking about, Miss Schemmenti…”

Melissa’s jaw clenched, her eyes narrowing as she scanned your face. God, you were trouble.

“Don’t play dumb with me,” she muttered, her hand still holding your wrist, her thumb brushing lightly against your skin. “You know exactly what you’re doin’.”

You bit your lip, your heart pounding in your chest. She was so close. You could feel the heat radiating off her, the tension crackling in the air like a live wire.

“Maybe,” you murmured softly, your eyes flickering to her lips before meeting her gaze again. “But… is it working?”

Oh, you little—

Melissa’s resolve was hanging by a thread.

Her body was practically vibrating with tension, her mind screaming at her to step back, to walk away, to be professional. But the way you were looking at her? The way your lips were just close enough to kiss?

She was this close to giving in.

“Sweetheart,” she murmured, her voice husky and low as her hand finally dropped from your wrist. But instead of stepping back, her fingers brushed against your waist, her touch light but burning through the thin fabric of your skirt.

“Yeah, Ms Schemmenti?” you whispered, your voice dripping with sugar, but your eyes? Oh, your eyes were full of heat.

Melissa’s gaze flickered to your lips, her resolve cracking, her breath hitching...

“Melissa!”

The voice snapped through the tension like a bucket of cold water.

Melissa jerked back, her hand dropping away from you so fast it was like she’d been burned.

“Shit,” she muttered under her breath, her face flushing as she turned to see Barbara waving her over.

“Looks like the drill’s over,” Barbara called, giving Melissa a look that was way too knowing. “We’re headin’ back inside.”

Melissa nodded stiffly, her jaw clenched as she tried to regain her composure.

But you?

Oh, you were smirking.

“Guess we’ll have to finish this later, huh?” you murmured softly, your voice dripping with mischief as you brushed past her, your body just grazing against hers as you sauntered back toward the building.

Melissa didn’t move.

She just stood there, her jaw clenched, her body still on fire, and her mind screaming one thing over and over again:

I am so fucked.

260 notes · View notes

saturnsag3 · 18 days ago

Text

Study Buddy - will smith x macklin celebrini

summary: this isn’t in the same universe as my other nerd!mack x frat!will blurb but sort of the same vibe

wc: 3,367

The thing about college was—well, okay, there were a lot of things about college that Will Smith didn’t like. Early classes, walking uphill in the snow, overpriced textbooks he never cracked open. But right now, the biggest thing was Statistics 2104.

He didn’t care about z-scores or regression models. Didn’t care about T-tests or p-values or whatever fresh hell was on this week’s quiz. What he did care about was the fact that his coach had just benched him until his grade went up.

“You’re a leader on this team, Smith,” Coach had said, pacing his office like he was delivering a TED Talk on discipline. “You want to play Friday? Show me you can pass your damn class.”

So here he was, sitting in Professor Delaney’s office with an empty water bottle, an even emptier brain, and just enough charm left in the tank to try and convince her not to ruin his life.

She peered at him over her glasses. “Will, you’ve failed the last two quizzes. Your attendance is spotty. Your last submitted assignment—” she held up a stapled packet with what looked like red blood all over it, “—was missing three of the assigned pages and cited TikTok as a source.”

Will cleared his throat. “Technically, it was on the STEM tab so—“

“I’m assigning you a tutor,” she cut him off. “You don’t get a say in it.”

“I wasn’t gonna argue,” he said quickly. “Actually, I—yeah. No. A tutor sounds... great. Productive. Go team.”

She raised a brow. “Macklin Celebrini. Pre-med. One of my top students.”

Will sat up straighter. The name sounded familiar—he was pretty sure they shared a row in lecture.

“The guy who sits across from me?” he asked. “Dark hair, kind of quiet?”

Delaney nodded. “That’s the one. He already agreed to help you.”

Will exhaled, half in relief, half in... something else. He didn’t know Macklin, not really, but he’d noticed him. Always early, always prepared, the kind of student who probably had color-coded notes and didn’t miss a single lecture. The kind of student Will needed if he was going to survive this class.

“Okay,” he said. “Yeah. I can work with that.”

Delaney didn’t smile. “Library. Four o’clock. Don’t waste his time.”

---

Will was late.

Not by much—five minutes, tops—but enough that he had to jog the last stretch to the library and burst through the glass doors like he was arriving at a frat party instead of a study session. His hoodie was half-zipped, one earbud still in, sunglasses perched cockily on his head like he hadn’t realized they were indoors now. The tail-end of someone’s coffee order announcement trailed behind him as he spotted the table near the back.

There he was.

Macklin Celebrini.

No laptop screen could hide the fact that he was objectively good-looking, and unfortunately for Will’s ability to focus, the kid looked way too composed for someone voluntarily hanging out with a failing jock. His brown, straight hair sat fluffy and light on his head, a single AirPod sat idle on the table next to his tea, and his notes were already spread out in neat rows—highlighters uncapped, stats textbook open, a few post-its stuck to the top margin.

One of them read: WILL, in sharp, all-caps pen.

Will pointed as he slid into the seat across from him. “You made me a place card? That’s kinda cute.”

Macklin didn’t look up right away. “I wasn’t sure if you’d show up, so I figured I’d at least get something useful out of this and work on labeling things.”

Will grinned. “You label your friends?”

“We’re not friends.” Macklin replied flatly.

Ouch.

Will put a hand to his chest, feigning offense. “Damn. Cold start.”

“I’m not here to warm you up,” Macklin said, flipping a page in his notebook. “I’m here to help you not fail. So let’s focus.”

Will leaned forward, resting his chin in his palm, eyes very much not on the textbook. “I’m focused.”

Macklin didn’t look up, but his pen paused mid-sentence. “Staring at me doesn’t count as focusing.”

“I disagree,” Will said smoothly. “You’re clearly the smartest guy in this room, so I figure if I just absorb your aura or whatever, I’ll magically learn the difference between a mode and a median.”

Macklin exhaled through his nose, unimpressed. “You’re literally going to fail.”

Will shrugged. “Not if I have you.”

That got him a look. Macklin finally glanced up, slow and measured, eyes scanning over Will like he was solving for X and the answer was deeply disappointing. “Flirting won’t fix your GPA.”

“Is it flirting if I’m just being honest?” Will shot back, smirking. “You’re kind of famous on campus, you know. Pre-med, full ride, on first-name basis with every professor. You walk like you’ve got somewhere more important to be.”

Macklin blinked once, then turned his laptop so the screen faced Will. “Do you know what a mean is?”

Will smiled, unbothered. “You don’t have to be so mean about it.”

Macklin didn’t so much as twitch. “Wow. A stats pun. That’s original.”

“You wound me, Mack.”

“Don’t call me that.”

“See, this is going well already,” Will said, propping his feet on the empty chair next to him. “I’ve learned your name and a boundary. Next time we might even get to standard deviation.”

Macklin closed his notebook, slow and deliberate. “You’ve been here seven minutes and you haven’t absorbed a single number.”

“I’ve absorbed plenty,” Will said, eyes very obviously dropping to Macklin’s hands. “Mostly visual.”

Macklin’s jaw flexed. “You know this isn’t a date, right?”

“Yet,” Will said, and winked.

It earned him silence. Not shocked silence—just the kind that came from someone who was very used to being hit on and very used to not caring.

Still, Will thought he saw it—just the slightest twitch at the corner of Macklin’s mouth. Not a smile. Definitely not. But something... almost amused. Almost.

“I’ll quiz you,” Macklin said finally, turning the notebook back to himself. “If you fail, we’re moving to the basement study rooms where there’s no one to perform for.”

Will’s smile widened. “So you are looking at me.”

Macklin didn’t look up. “One more word and I start charging you by the minute.”

“So, the mean,” Macklin began, tapping his pen against the textbook like he was trying to summon patience from its pages. “Is the average. You just add all the numbers and divide by how many there are.”

Will didn’t respond.

Macklin glanced up. “Will.”

Will was already looking at him—had been, actually, this whole time. Chin still in his hand, elbow on the table, eyes dragging unapologetically over Macklin’s face like it was more interesting than anything numbers had to offer.

“What?” Will asked, all faux-innocence.

“You’re not listening.”

“I am listening,” Will protested, straightening up a little. “Mean equals average. Add, divide, boom. Got it.”

Macklin narrowed his eyes. “Then give me the mean of these five numbers.”

He scribbled them down on a post-it and slid it across the table.

Will didn’t even glance at it. “I’ll calculate it if you smile.”

Macklin blinked. “Excuse me?”

“One smile,” Will said. “Just a little one. Then I’ll do the math.”

“I’m not a vending machine. You don’t insert charm and get expressions back.”

“Worth a try.”

Will leaned over the table, reaching for Macklin’s pen. His fingers brushed Macklin’s knuckles—on purpose—and lingered just a half-second too long before he pulled the pen back and uncapped it with his teeth.

Macklin stared at him. “You have your own pens.”

“But yours looks smarter.”

“That’s not how pens work.”

“It is when you use them,” Will said smoothly.

Macklin said nothing, just looked vaguely toward the ceiling like he was regretting every life choice that led him to this exact moment.

Will finally looked at the post-it. “Okay, so—five numbers. Add them. Divide. Easy.”

“Not if you take forever doing it.”

Will pretended to scribble something down, then paused and looked up again. “You smell good, by the way.”

Macklin’s pen froze mid-word. “What?”

“Didn’t think you’d be the type,” Will continued, leaning back and drumming his fingers against the table. “But it’s subtle. Clean. Like—you just did laundry and read for pleasure.”

Macklin blinked. “What does reading for pleasure even smell like?”

“Vanilla and rubbing alcohol.”

“...Are you high?”

Will grinned. “No, but you’re starting to sound like my type.”

Macklin huffed and looked back at his notes. “I’m not your type.”

Will tilted his head, genuinely curious. “How do you know that?”

“Because I know you.”

That gave Will pause.

Macklin didn’t look up when he said it—didn’t act like he’d dropped a bomb or anything—but the words hung there, heavy and real.

“You know of me,” Will said slowly.

“I know you,” Macklin said again, more evenly this time. “Will Smith. Greek life king. Wing night champion. Campus hockey god. Very good at pretending nothing matters until it suddenly does.”

Will stared at him, surprised.

“And now that your season’s on the line, here you are. Failing statistics, flirting with your tutor instead of learning the material.”

Will opened his mouth, closed it, then leaned forward again—this time more serious, less performative.

“Okay,” he said. “That was... a little hot.”

Macklin rolled his eyes, but there was definite color rising in his cheeks now, high and pink and fast.

“You’re exhausting,” Macklin muttered.

“I’ve been called worse.”

“Do you ever stop?” he asked, flipping a page aggressively.

Will tapped his pen against the table. “You could make me.”

Macklin gave him a long look. “How?”

Will leaned in again, close enough to make Macklin’s shoulders go stiff.

“Tell me to stop and mean it,” Will said, voice low.

Macklin didn’t answer right away. For a second, he just stared, expression unreadable.

“Do the math problem, Will.”

Will smirked. “What if I get it wrong on purpose so you’ll yell at me again?”

“I swear to God—”

“I like when you’re mean to me,” Will said, smug.

“Try me again and I’ll make you do flashcards,” Macklin threatened, standing his ground.

Will put both hands up in surrender. “Okay, okay. No need for violence.”

He finally leaned back and actually looked at the numbers this time. Macklin watched him from the corner of his eye, like he didn’t trust him to even attempt the problem without saying something ridiculous.

Will scratched something down. “So the mean is... 12.6?”

Macklin blinked. “That’s actually correct.”

Will lit up like a kid who just got goldfish and a sticker. “Look at us! Learning and bonding.”

Macklin just shook his head, but his mouth twitched again—almost smiling, almost giving in.

Will leaned across the table again, sliding Macklin’s pen back toward him with two fingers. “You’re really good at this, by the way.”

“Tutoring?”

“No. Looking unimpressed. It’s hot.”

“Jesus Christ,” Macklin muttered.

Will grinned. “You’re thinking about smiling, I know it.”

“I’m thinking about faking a medical emergency so I can leave.”

Will leaned in once more, voice dropped low, like a secret. “Just so you know... you already make stats my favorite subject.”

Macklin didn’t respond. But when he looked up, there was a definite smile tugging at the corner of his mouth—and he didn’t even try to fight it.

---

By their third session, Will had stopped pretending he hated statistics.

Not because he liked it but because he liked the way Macklin’s expression twitched every time he said something just dumb enough to be funny. He liked how Macklin always showed up early, already halfway through a green tea and flipping through his meticulously highlighted notes like he hadn't spent the last two hours prepping for a tutoring session he claimed not to care about.

Will noticed everything.

The way Macklin tapped his pen against the side of his mug when he was thinking. The way he curled his hand protectively over his notes when Will leaned too close. The way he tried very hard not to laugh whenever Will made some inappropriate joke about frequency distributions and one-night stands.

It was slow—painfully slow—but Macklin was cracking.

Just a little.

It started with the eye rolls. Then the muttered "You're impossible"’s. Then, the fifth session in, Will made some dumb pun about regression and Macklin actually laughed. Like, a real, startled huff of a laugh that caught both of them off guard.

Will had blinked at him. “Was that a giggle?”

Macklin had gone red instantly. “Shut up.”

So of course Will spent the rest of the session trying to make him do it again.

He started taking the tutoring slightly more seriously—not enough to stop flirting, obviously, but enough that Macklin stopped threatening to quit every ten minutes. Will showed up (mostly) on time. He answered practice questions with slightly less whining. He even—once—brought Macklin a green tea before he could get one himself.

Macklin stared at it like it was poison.

“You memorized my order?” he asked, flatly.

Will grinned. “What can I say? I’m observant. Also, the barista said you go there so often they thought you lived upstairs.”

Macklin tried not to smile, and failed.

“Don’t read into this,” he warned, taking the cup anyway.

Will just leaned back in his chair, laced his hands behind his head, and said, “Too late.”

Their sessions kept going like that: Will making jokes, Macklin pretending not to like them. Macklin explaining concepts, Will interrupting every five minutes to ask why he smelled like vanilla and pain suppression. Somehow, amidst all the chaos, Will’s test scores climbed. Not by much, but enough.

And Macklin... stopped acting like he hated being there.

He didn’t say it, of course. Would probably deny it if Will ever asked. But he didn’t flinch when Will leaned in close anymore. Didn’t move his hand when Will’s brushed his under the table. Didn’t sigh as loud when Will texted him outside of tutoring hours.

In fact, by week four, Macklin texted him first.

Just once.

Just a curt: bring your notes this time. and try not to smell like gym bag + cologne. see you at 4.

Will had smiled at his phone like an idiot for a full ten minutes after that.

---

Will practically burst into the library like he’d just scored the game-winner in double overtime. He didn’t even try to hide the shit-eating grin on his face, practically jogging over to their usual table with a paper clutched in his hand and his backwards cap hanging off one ear.

Macklin didn’t even look up. “If you’re about to show me a meme, I’m leaving.”

Will slapped the graded exam onto the table like it was a trophy. “Seventy-seven.”

That got Macklin’s attention.

He blinked. Then again. “Out of... a hundred?”

Will snorted. “No, Macklin, out of a thousand.”

Macklin’s brows shot up. He leaned forward, snatching the test and scanning it like he couldn’t believe what he was seeing. “Wait—this is actually... wow.”

Will beamed, obnoxiously proud. “Say it.”

Macklin frowned. “Say what?”

“Say I’m a genius.”

“You got a C.”

“A strong C,” Will corrected. “A C with ambition.”

And then—just for a second—Macklin actually smiled.

It was quick, and it wasn’t cocky or sarcastic or tight-lipped. It was genuine. His whole face lit up, eyes crinkling, like he couldn’t stop it even if he tried.

Will saw it.

“You’re proud of me,” Will said, voice sing-songy.

“I’m—no.”

“You are.”

“It’s just—” Macklin floundered, pushing the paper back across the table like it had burned him. “I didn’t think you’d break 70, so... congratulations, I guess.”

Will leaned his elbows on the table and tilted his head. “That was dangerously close to a compliment.”

“Don’t get used to it.”

Will smirked. “Too late.”

Macklin tried to recover, but his ears were pink, and he was avoiding eye contact like the test score had personally offended him.

Will, of course, couldn’t leave it there.

“So,” he said, stretching casually. “What happens if I get an 80 on the next one?”

Macklin raised an eyebrow, wary. “You get a slightly better grade.”

Will shook his head. “No, no. I mean, what happens between us.”

Macklin blinked, already regretting everything. “Nothing happens between us.”

Will gave him the look. “You smiled when I said ‘77.’ That was basically second base.”

Macklin rolled his eyes. “You’re impossible.”

Will leaned forward, grinning. “If I get an 80 on our next test, you have to let me take you out.”

Macklin stared.

Will held up a hand. “No games. Just one date. Could be coffee. Could be dinner. Could be that weird farmer’s market you pretend not to like even though I saw reusable tote bags in your car.”

“You went through my car?”

“I didn’t go through it. I walked past it. Noticed things. I’m observant.”

“You’re annoying.”

“And yet you keep tutoring me.”

Macklin hesitated. He was quiet for a second too long, and Will knew he was considering it. Like, actually weighing the pros and cons of Will asking him out.

Finally, Macklin sighed, slow and dramatic.

“Fine,” he said. “Deal.”

Will blinked. “Wait. Seriously?”

“If—and I mean if—you get an 80 or higher.”

“Oh, I will.”

“But—” Macklin added, holding up a finger. “Rules.”

Will grinned. “Lay ‘em on me.”

“One: no bragging to your friends. Two: it’s not a date, it’s a hang out. And three: if you’re late, I walk.”

Will laughed. “That’s... actually reasonable.”

Macklin shook his head, but he was smiling again—smaller this time, secretive. Like part of him really did want Will to get that 80.

Will sat back, already plotting flashcards and study sessions and possibly bribing the professor (kidding—kind of).

“Better clear your schedule, Macklin,” he said, eyes bright with promise. “I’ve never wanted an 80 more in my life.”

sages thoughts⋆˙⟡: i love this dynamic so much and if you guys want you can send me requests for them, i hope u enjoyed!!

#willmack #hrpf #macklin celebrini #will smith hockey #san jose sharks #mlm

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allthesethingswillendsoon · 4 months ago

Text

Long, long time

CHAPTER FIVE: There's a first time for everything

SUMMARY: Seventh grade marks some memorable firsts for the girls, both good and bad.

NOTE: Okay whoopsie this lowkey took me ages, but it's over double what I said it would be the other day, but it's not proofread, so if there are any mega plotholes just let me know. I don't mind this one, I think it could've been better but also it's like quite a memorable one for their plot development so like yeah. Also I'm thinking of also posting this on ao3 because I prefer reading on that platform so tell me if you think that's a good or bad idea. Okay, I hope everyone likes it and thinks it's semi-worth the wait.

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Warnings: Little bit of angst, Jealous Paige 6.6k words Pairing: Paige Bueckers x Azzi Fudd

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20th of FEBRUARY, 2015

OAKRIDGE, VIRGINIA

It was a normal, seemingly average Tuesday when it happened.

Paige woke up, she chucked on her clothes and went downstairs. She said a quick goodbye to her dad as he left for work and ate cereal at the kitchen counter. When the clock hit eight she grabbed her backpack and locked the front door. Azzi was waiting at the front gate as always.

They walked to school at a not too slow-not too fast pace, Azzi chattering about her crazy dream the night before - something about gingerbread men and a zombie apocalypse. From the moment they started walking to the moment they stopped, the dark-haired girl made a point to fill the air between them with consistent conversation, not that Paige minded, it was nice to just listen sometimes.

The first bell rang as they entered the school, and the best friends parted ways for their classes, Paige to Maths and Azzi to French. First period rolled into second period, which rolled into third period. Finally, after an agonizing three hours of education, it was time for lunch.

Tuesday was renowned for having the best lunch, mac and cheese. It was simply mind blowing that the lunch ladies -who were almost always one health code violation away from unemployment- were able to create such delicious food. Each bite was other-worldly, the perfect ratio of pasta to sauce. And after such a draining morning, every student at Oakridge Middle School was absolutely desperate for a taste of heaven.

Paige scoffed at the line of eager kids waiting for their bowl, amateur hour. If they were smart they would have known that you’re allowed to get two bowls, if Miss Amanda likes you that is. All Paige had to say on the matter was that Miss Amanda loved Azzi, arguably more than her own daughter. So, with a proud grin, Paige waltzed her way past the queue over to her lunch table.

Azzi and Paige had sat together at the same lunch table every day since they started middle school. They shared their table with a few other girls in their grade, who they were friendly with. It was a peaceful arrangement, and the cohabitation worked well for both groups.

As she neared the table, Paige felt her heart drop, something was very, very wrong. The state of the cafeteria could be described as pure pandemonium. Each pre-teen wolfing food into their mouths like their lives depended on it, and some of the most violent line-cutting techniques could be observed. Paige herself had been looking forward to their silent lunch break, expecting both her and her best friend to be fully focussing on their food as was normal on a Tuesday.

So, when her table came into sight, there was no doubt that something horrible had happened to Azzi Fudd. The scene was comparable to a renaissance painting, amongst all the chaos sat Azzi, two glorious bowls of mac and cheese in front of her, both of them perfectly untouched. She was staring ahead, eyebrows furrowed as if she was deep in thought.

There were many things Paige didn’t like about the world, but the thing she liked the least was seeing Azzi distressed. With a deep breath she walked over to the table, prepared to beat up whoever it was that had messed with her best friend.

“Hey Az!” Paige exclaimed as she sat down, her voice filled with so much enthusiasm it seemed almost fake.

“Hey Paige.” Azzi responded, glancing at her with that same pensieve look she’d had when she was sitting by herself.

Okay, now this was concerning. Not to be too full of herself or anything, but Paige was usually a fix-all for any of Azzi’s bad moods, so the fact her presence changed nothing, was definitely an issue.

“Everything good? You look a bit upset.”

“No, I'm not upset.” The younger girl answered, giving absolutely no sign of not being upset.

“That’s good, I’m glad to hear that.” Sure, she was glad to hear her best friend say she wasn’t upset, but that statement didn’t mean much when the best friend in question looked like she might drop dead from stress in the next minute.

Just before she was able to continue her investigation, Azzi took in a big breath, as if trying to breathe in all the courage she could, before she started, “Listen Paige, I need to tell you something.”

Oh god, what could it be? A death in the family? An illness? She didn’t even want to think, could she be… moving? No. No. That was not the time for spiralling. Paige took a moment to compose herself. Azzi was clearly upset by whatever was happening, and the last thing Paige wanted was to make her even more upset by reacting anxiously.

In the most calm tone she could muster, she asked, “Okay?”

“I’ve been keeping a secret from you.” Azzi said. She had clearly tried to sound confident, but the words came out sounding oh-so very sad.

“What? You’re a mob boss or something?” She joked, hoping to take away some of the tension that Azzi seemed to be drowning in.

“No, not that.” She deadpanned. Now, Paige was aware that it wasn’t her best joke, but she still thought it deserved a little laughter.

Normally Paige’s crappy dad jokes were enough to take Azzi’s mind off whatever was troubling her for at least a second, but nothing was cracking her shell. For a moment, Paige let her composure slip, “Just tell me Az, you’re really stressing me out.”

Then, Azzi’s stressed exterior slipped, giving way to a softer look, the one she saved for Paige, “Okay, so you know Aaron?”

Paige ran through a mental list of kids in their grade before she questioned, “Aaron B or Aaron W?”

“Aaron B.” Azzi replied. It was probably a trick of the light or something, but Paige swore that as her best friend answered the corner of her mouth flickered up into a smile.

“Yeah I know him. Didn’t he pee his pants sleepwalking at sixth grade camp or something?” Paige chuckled at the memory, there was nothing like the silly fun of a school camp.

“That was Aaron W, not Aaron B.” Azzi stated matter-of-factly.

Not laughing at the mob boss joke, sure Paige could get that. But not laughing at the thought of a twelve year old sleepwalking and sleep-peeing, simply unheard of.

Paige usually had pretty thick skin, but for some reason Azzi’s reaction mellowed her out, “Oh, right.”

For the second time, Azzi softened, her gaze meeting Paige’s almost apologetically, before she continued, “Anyways, so Aaron B?”

It was weird, the way she was acting. Her worried demeanour was a stark contrast to the urgency and statementness of her words. It seemed as if Azzi had been tasked with telling Paige this secret with as little personality as possible.

“What about him?” Paige questioned, deciding to help the younger girl move her explaining along.

“Well…” Azzi started, before suddenly developing the most intense interest in staring at literally anything other than the blonde girl sitting with her. A solid minute of silent waiting passed by, with Paige waiting to see what she had to say, and Azzi questioning if it was too late to back out.

Just when Paige thought she would never hear her best friend speak again, Azzi blurted, “He asked me to be his girlfriend.”

“What?! Paige near-yelled, she had almost stood up from the table in her outrage,“You said no, right?!”

Who did this chumbag think he was? Asking the Azzi Fudd to be his girlfriend?

God, it must have felt great for Azzi to put him in his place.

Nothing in the entire, ever-expanding universe could have prepared her for the words that came out of her best friend’s mouth, “I said yes.”

The words dropped like a bomb, waves of shock almost knocking Paige to the ground.

“What the fuck Az!? Why!?” This time Paige stood up from the table, hands slamming down, shaking the bowls of mac and cheese, before Azzi pulled her back down.

She got this shy look on her face as she spoke, her cheeks and ears burning, “I dunno. He’s cute, and he’s nice and funny.” For the first time during that lunch break, Azzi smiled. It was a different smile, one Paige hadn’t seen before. Once she saw it, she immediately wished she could unsee it. There was something about that smile, it held a different weight than her usual ones, like it meant something more, something deeper than when she smiled at Paige.

There was only one explanation, Azzi had gone crazy, and as her lifelong best friend, it was up to Paige to talk some sense into her, “Yeah, so what? I’m all of those things, doesn’t mean you’re gonna date me!”

Paige’s words settled in the air as Azzi returned her gaze to her. For the third time Azzi’s demeanor softened. She looked at her with such lightness, as if the weight of her vision would crack Paige’s skin open. Normally she liked it, but normal definitely did not include her best friend dating some random boy she barely knew,

Paige knew she was strong and she didn’t like to be babied, her exterior was tough and hard to break. The only people she ever really let loose around was her dad, and the Fudds. She knew none of the kids at school would ever be able to pick it, but she was a major dad’s girl. Not in the stereotypical, ‘pink princess’ way, but just in the way that her Dad was her hero, and Bob gave everything he had and more to Paige no matter what. With the Fudds, they were like the extended family she had never really had, being with them was great, she knew she was like a daughter to Katie and Tim, and like a sister to Jon and Jose. That being said, they were the people who saw her at her highs and lows, and they knew when to go hard or easy on her.

But with Azzi it was different. With Azzi she let herself go soft, let her guarded exterior turn mushy. Paige couldn’t count the amount of times she had cried over her mom, over life, tucked into the crook of Azzi’s neck. She would look at her with those soft eyes, and Paige knew it wasn’t patronising, she knew Azzi would never hold her moments of vulnerability against her. It was the only time she would ever let herself be unguarded.

But in that moment not even the look on Azzi’s face could make her feel better.

Yet, the whole situation was somehow made worse when Azzi spoke again, “It’s different Paige. Surely you’ve had a crush on someone before, it’s just different.”

With her words, some deep-seated anger arose from Paige. It was a weird feeling, being upset with Azzi - it had never happened before. Why would she say that, “It’s just different.”? Like their friendship meant nothing in comparison to her snapchat streak with a un-potty trained seventh grader.

“Yeah whatever Az.” Paige spat, her voice dripping with venom, “Why don’t you go and change his diaper or something?”

That time, Paige’s words were the ones to shock Azzi, “Why are you mad at me?!” Confusion was etched all across her face. “And also I told you that was Aaron W not B!”

“Same-same. Now if you don’t mind I have some Mac and cheese to eat.” Paige spoke dismissively, turning to give her full attention to her mac and cheese as she poked at it.

Paige avoided eye contact with Azzi like her life depended on it, not even daring to glance at her as she stared at her from across the table. It wasn’t until the second end-of-lunch bell rang that Azzi finally got up, leaving Paige to sit there with her thoughts.

And for the first time ever, Paige sat without Azzi at the table, and binned two, full bowls of mac and cheese.

----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

24th of FEBRUARY, 2015

OAKRIDGE, VIRGINIA

Paige had never considered herself a violent, or mean person. But there was just something about seeing Azzi and Aaron together that made her want to scream and yell and throw things. There were just so many things to dislike about Aaron, it was really hard to pinpoint exactly what made him so horrible.

Objectively speaking, he wasn’t ugly per se, but he definitely wasn’t a looker either. He had a button nose, a sharp jawline, clear skin, and bright green eyes.

When she put it like that she knew that it sounded like he could be attractive - but he was not.

Looking at Aaron was a jarring experience. It had never occurred to Paige how creepy-looking he was until Azzi started dating him. Aaron had managed to ruin her brooding time, she couldn’t glare at her best friend without seeing his ugly face, or hearing his revolting voice - or worse, his laugh.

When she heard two girls in English talking about how lucky Azzi was to be his girlfriend she barely stopped herself from turning and strangling them both, and instead shut her mouth as tight as she could, and clenched her fists till her knuckles were pure white.

To take her mind off the situation, she imagined him as a child, coming home from yet another lonely, friendless day at school to find his mother hosting an afternoon tea with her friends. They would fawn over him, and say “You’re going to be such a heartbreaker!” as they pinched his cheeks. Of course, they all knew it wasn’t the truth, but that’s just what you say to unfortunate looking kids, who grow up to be unfortunate looking pre-teens that ask out girls way out of their league.

Maybe what irked her was the fact that Azzi had smiled when she spoke about him, that saying the things she liked about him broke her out of her broody trance. Or maybe it was the way her cheeks had tinted the prettiest pink. How the galaxies in her dark brown eyes lit up a thousand times brighter. How the dimple in her cheek popped when she hung out with him, how her laughter at his shitty jokes echoed through the halls, honey sweet and sing-songy.

It was only when she came upon that specific reason for not liking him that she realised that maybe that gnawing, sour feeling that had settled low in her belly was something more akin to jealousy. And then, in the same strand of thoughts she decided to stop thinking altogether about why she didn’t like him, and instead just double down on the fact that Aaron sucked and she absolutely hated him.

--------------------------------------------------

27th of FEBRUARY, 2015

OAKRIDGE VIRGINIA

The final nail in the coffin came when Paige left her third period Spanish class.

It was a Tuesday, which meant the best mac and cheese in the world. But it also meant it had been a week since Paige and Azzi had last spoken.

If avoiding Azzi was an olympic sport, then Paige had become a twenty-time gold medalist.

For the first few days they weren’t talking, Paige made a point to stay in Azzi’s vision. She had decided that if she had to be reminded of the emptiness of Azzi in her life, then Azzi should be reminded of Paige. She made sure to be subtle with it, instead of standing directly in front of her, she’d ensure that Azzi would catch glimpses of her from her peripheral vision. Paige would watch as Azzi would spot her, then she would force herself to keep a straight face as she watched her best friend apologise to Aaron for forgetting what it was he had been saying.

That whole thing had been going perfectly, exactly to plan, but then it just started to make her really sad and really angry, and then, of course, her only option was to avoid Azzi, no matter what it took.

She thought it would be simple, she knew Azzi's entire timetable, she knew which hallways she walked down, she wouldn’t be surprised if she could estimate the amount of steps it took for her to get from point A to B. So in theory, it should’ve been smooth sailing to stay away from her, but nothing in her life had been easy, except Azzi - up until that point.

Aaron simply had to ruin, not only her friendship with her best friend, but also her ploy to never see her again. Obviously, because she wasn’t weird, she had absolutely zero idea about Aaron’s timetable, let alone his whereabouts, and in the past week the boyfriend-girlfriend duo had become attached at the hip, meaning it was nearly impossible to avoid them. The key word being nearly.

Paige had been working tirelessly to avoid the both of them, and somehow she had been able to manage it. Her genius strategy? Waiting till the second bell to leave for her next class. On the negative side, she had sprinted away from basically every hall monitor in the school multiple times. But on the positive, she had not seen Aaron and Azzi together in days, which was basically all she wanted.

As glad as she was to not see them together, it was the first time ever that Paige wasn’t on speaking terms with Azzi, and it made her really, really sad. Which was why she wasn’t thinking straight when she left third period Spanish and walked her usual route to the cafeteria - out the language corridor, round the gym, past Aaron and Azzi holding hands, then home-free into the cafeteria.

What. The. Actual. Fucking. Fuck.

Paige isn’t a squeamish person in the least, but the sight of Azzi’s soft hand encased in Aaron’s sweaty one nearly made her throw up. It was surreal, it felt like time had paused, like Paige was floating in time, stuck in place staring at them as they walked hand-in-hand down the hall.

She could have stayed in her trance all day, glued down in the centre of the hallway, but thanks to Mac and cheese Tuesday the hordes of smelly tweens are pushing her forward towards the cafeteria.

Just like the week before she walked past the lunch line and went straight to her table. Since Azzi had been sitting with Aaron and his little minions, Paige had been left to sit with the girls they shared their table with. There were four of them, and they were nice, something Paige had never cared to notice, too busy with Azzi to pay attention to the girls sitting two feet away from them.

They were nice in all the cliche ways, but what made their kindness stand out was the fact they had not mentioned Azzi once, and had simply invited Paige into their conversations. It was good for her to talk to other people, to get out of her head.

She was aware that she hadn’t been looking or acting her best since the previous Tuesday, but no one had said anything or shown a reaction to her disheveled appearance. It was only on that Tuesday, when Paige had stomped her way to the table that the girls had acknowledged her delicate state.

“Hey Paige!” Shania greeted, her friendly smile quickly growing concerned as she and the rest of the group took in her severely agitated condition, “Are you alright?”

“Wha- Yeah, yeah, I’m fine. Nothing to worry about here!” The table continued to stare at her worriedly, perhaps more so after her seemingly, self-assuring response.

“Oookay, cool.” Shania responded, voice filled with nothing but good-willed apprehension.

The table fell into silence, the girls trying to figure out how to deal with Paige’s nuclear state, and Paige trying to act as normal as she could after seeing her best friend of seven years holding hands with a grubby boy.

“Oh my gosh, I forgot to tell you about this Paige! There’s a party this Friday at Ryan’s, and you should totally come along!” Emma squealed at her excitedly.

“Yeah, sure, I’d like that.” Paige responded, trying her hardest to sound happy despite herself.

“Yay! I’ll text you the deets,” Emma said, passing Paige her phone, encased in pink diamontes, “Put your number in.”

Paige dutifully poked in her phone number before handing it back. The girls fell into conversation about the party, talking about drinks and other people that were going. Paige was content with letting it go in one ear and out the other, until she heard the name ‘Aaron B’ sandwiched in between the names of the other partygoers.

Aaron going to the party meant Azzi going to the party, that meant they were both going to the party that Paige was going to. Great. Just great. She would get front row seats to their love-fest, how exciting.

For some reason that knowledge didn’t make her cancel, instead it fueled her with reasons to go. She wanted to be there, and wanted to be the one to surprise Azzi with her presence. She wanted her to feel that same stomach dropping feeling she had felt all week, she wanted to be the one with the upper hand. Another, softer part of her, wanted her first, boy-girl, alcohol party to be the same as Azzi’s, even if they weren’t experiencing it together, together.

--------------------------------------------------

2nd of MARCH, 2015

OAKRIDGE VIRGINIA

The school day had dragged on for so long Paige had accepted the fact that it would never end, meaning she nearly cried tears of joy when the end-of-school bell had rung out through the halls.

Ever since Tuesday she had been buzzing with both nerves and excitement. She was convinced that going to her first proper party would cause some cosmic shift within her universe, like the clouds would part and the angels would sing to her the second her hands touched the glass of a lukewarm berry cruiser.

With much more enthusiasm than necessary she had swiped her book into her backpack and power-walked out of school. That had become a prime part of the ‘avoiding Azzi’ plan, leaving way too early for school in the morning, and booking out of school the second it ended to make sure their paths didn’t cross.

As she walked into their street, a pang of guilt struck through her chest at the sight of the Fudd house. It had been killing her, not just the radio silence between her and Azzi, but the subsequent disconnect that had happened between her and the rest of Azzi’s family.

It was odd, she hadn’t felt the shoulder punches from Jon and Jose in over a week. Hadn’t been yelled at motherly by Katie in over a week. Hadn’t been pulled into a daughter and extra-daughter hug by Tim in over a week. They were things that were a part of her daily life that she had always taken for granted, assuming they’d always be there.

That wasn’t the only thing she had missed, mostly she had been missing Azzi. Paige missed her so much, she just missed everything about her. And she had officially decided that she would try to make up with Azzi, preferably as soon as possible. Her best case scenario had her hoping for a reconciliation at the party that night. All she had to do was pull her away from Aaron and she was golden, she was one hundred percent sure that Azzi would forgive her once she apologised, because she really was sorry.

The more and more she thought about the whole situation the more she realised how absolutely crazy she had been acting, from quite literally the moment Azzi told her. It was like a switch had flipped in her brain, and all rational thinking had been thrown out the window.

As she showered and got dressed for the party Paige was growing increasingly excited at the prospect of speaking to Azzi again after what felt like a lifetime of separation.

She got her dad to drop her off at seven-thirty at Ryan’s house. Her dad had given her a stern talking to about drugs and alcohol, and the dangers of them.

Unfortunately, Bob would have been severely disappointed to find out that Paige had accepted a cruiser immediately upon arrival. As excited as she was to talk to Azzi, she was also desperately nervous about going to her first party, and having to enter by herself. Although the cruiser didn’t reveal cosmic secrets to her, it did send the lightest buzz through her, and inspire her to go to the kitchen and concoct a wickedly bitter vodka-juice blend in a plastic red cup.

After a while of floating around, Paige spotted Shania and her friends in the corner, and quickly made her way towards them. As she does she scans the room for Azzi and/or Aaron. That still made her upset, that they were now always together, like Paige and Azzi usually were, but whatever, Paige was there to make up with Azzi, not trash on her stupid boyfriend.

She walked up to the girls and fell into the simple chatter that they constantly had going. It was nice, they were nice, the way the alcohol made her feel was nice. She was content, simply standing there huddled in a circle with them as they discussed something Paige really didn’t care about. It appeared they were going to stay like that, until someone yelled ‘Spin the bottle time!’.

Suddenly, everyone, including Paige, was shoved into the basement, a large, misshapen circle of people sat in the centre of the room. Scanning the room once again, Paige finally saw her.

Azzi was sitting in the circle, pressed up against Aaron on one side and some random cheerleader on the other. She was wearing a pink sweater and her nicest pair of jeans, her hair was out and her lips were glossed a soft mauve. To put it simply, she looked really pretty.

Paige was leaning against a wall, her third drink and second cruiser of the night held firmly in her hand. She had opted out of the game, not wanting to have to swap spit with some stupid boy in her grade if the bottle were to land on her.

It suddenly hit her that she was sitting out of the game because she didn’t want to kiss someone, and that Azzi was sitting in on the game because she did want to kiss someone. And that someone would obviously be her boyfriend.

The thought of Azzi kissing him made her shudder, but she pushed it to the side. Azzi was her best friend and it should not have mattered to Paige who she kissed, so she decided not to care.

For the amount of hype the game had received, it was actually quite boring. Someone would spin the bottle, the bottle would land on someone, they would kiss, then the process would repeat. It wasn’t until Kathy Libertman spun the bottle and it landed on Johnny Albertson that there were some oohs and aahs. The fact that Kathy had the world’s most massive crush on Johnny was as widely accepted as the fact that two plus two equals four.

As Paige chuckled at the spin she glanced towards Azzi, who looked up at her at that exact moment. Instead of looking away like she would have a few days ago she held her gaze, blue eyes on brown for the first time in too long, and smiled just a little. A look of confusion mixed with shock passed over Azzi’s face before the corner’s of her mouth flicked up.

God that felt good. The cruisers hadn’t changed her life, but seeing her best friend smile at her like that again made Paige think that maybe the universe was on her side.

After Johnny had adeptly swerved Kathy, a few more rounds passed. Then, it was Aaron’s turn. Azzi was trying to play it cool, but Paige knew every single one of her nervous tells, the clench of her jaw and the furrow of her brows softening for a second as Paige gave her an encouraging nod.

Aaron reached into the circle and spun the empty coke bottle. It spun and spun and spun before coming to a perfect stop between Azzi and the cheerleader next to her.

The chatter of the room dissipated immediately as everyone watched in anticipation. Azzi was visibly distressed, and even Paige was nervous as to where the situation was headed.

Aaron hesitated for a moment, his gaze flickering between his girlfriend, the strawberry-blonde girl next to her, and the coke bottle. With a big intake of air, he leant forward over Azzi and kissed the cheerleader. The room erupted in a mix of confusion and support.

Everyone in the room was watching as Aaron and the cheerleader kissed for what seemed like forever, but Paige had her eyes trained on Azzi, who looked like a deer in the headlights stuck between them. Pushing through the room, Paige reached a hand out to Azzi who gladly took it and let herself be pulled out of the room and onto the street.

They stood in companionable silence, there were things they needed to say, but not yet.

It was nearing eleven o’clock when Paige called her dad to pick them up. The night air was chilly but when Paige’s hand brushed against Azzi, her whole body heated up from her best friend’s warmth.

Paige didn’t know if Azzi had been drinking or not, but she knew when they got into her dad’s car that he would know that Paige had in fact been drinking, and hadn’t heeded her dad’s warning. She expected a lecture on the danger of drinking but instead was met with absolutely zero conversation directed towards her, instead, her dad was talking to Azzi, catching up with her about the past week and a half of their lives. It hadn’t occurred to her till then that Azzi was just as much a part of her family as Paige was a part of hers - she had missed Azzi in her life so much.

The two girls went straight to Paige’s room and Bob to his. Only when they were tucked safely into the gentle warmth of the bedroom did Paige speak, “Listen, I’m really sorry Az. I don’t know why I was being so crazy, he just made me so upset, like I knew you were way out of his league and I just knew that you deserved way, way better than him.”

After her rant Paige sort of expected Azzi to get mad at her and let out her anger at the whole situation, yet Azzi simply smiled, “Yeah you were being pretty crazy, but I’m sorry too”

Paige scoffed at that, earning a confused chuckle from Azzi, “What are you sorry for? You literally did nothing wrong.”

“Well I should’ve told you ages ago, we had been texting every night for two whole weeks before he asked me out, and I don’t really know why I didn’t tell you… It’s just that I was really worried you were gonna react… exactly like you reacted, y’know?” The curly-haired girl explained.

“Yeah, I get that, I did have like the worst reaction a person could have,” Paige confessed softly “I mean, I’m just so sorry Az, I wish I never got angry, I’ve missed you so much.”

Azzi pulled the blonde in for a hug, her head nestled in the crook of Azzi’s neck, the familiar, sweet aroma of her perfume filling her senses.

With a squeeze Azzi pulled away, before she flopped face-first onto Paige’s bed, “God that was so embarrassing.”

It was quite the situation, but it was definitely way more embarrassing for Aaron, like, fumbling the single-most pretty and smart and kind and funny girl in the whole school. She decided against saying that, and instead tried to lighten the situation, “Could’ve been worse, you saw what happened to Kathy.”

“Yeah, but Johnny’s not her boyfriend.” Azzi mumbled from her spot splayed out on Paige’s bed.

“That’s true I guess.” Paige responded thoughtfully, accepting defeat.

“Great. thanks Paigey.” She grumbled light-heartedly.

Right before Paige went to apologise Azzi sprang up into a sitting position on the bed, “It just sucks y’know?”

“Yeah I know.” Paige hummed in agreement. Their shoulders were pressed together again, and Paige could feel the touch and the alcohol mixing and making her brain short circuit a little

“Like I really thought I was gonna have my first kiss tonight” Azzi huffed in upset annoyance.

“Well look on the bright side, he’s a mega dick, so really you dodged a bullet.” Paige reassured her.

As much as she was glad that Azzi had found out what a douche he was, she wished even more that it had happened quietly, not in front of a big crowd of people.

“You’re actually quite right.” Azzi agreed after considering her statement for a moment.

Paige playfully shoved her with her shoulder, “Of course I am.”

Azzi went quiet for a second before she turned to look Paige in the eyes, “Yeah. I want my first kiss to mean something. To be with someone that really cares about me and stuff.”

The words came from her mouth before she could think about what she was saying, “I mean you still could.”

Paige didn’t know what it was that made her say that. Maybe it was the liquid courage from before. Or maybe it was the adrenaline from making up with her best friend. Or maybe, just maybe, it was the way the streetlight glow filtering in through the windows was hitting Azzi’s cheekbones just right, how her lashes were long and her lips full. How Paige wasn’t sure she had ever truly appreciated Azzi’s beauty before the way it was meant to be.

“What do you mean?” Azzi asked. It seemed like a question, but with the way Azzi was batting her eyelashes at her, it started to seem more like a challenge.

Paige’s brain actually did short circuit for a split second that time, but then, mostly thanks to the liquor, she decided to just double down and speak with confidence.

“I think you know what I mean” She responded, her blue eyes flickering from Azzi’s doe-y brown ones to her soft lips.

Almost imperceptibly, Azzi shifted closer.

“Yeah.” She breathed out shakily, breaking eye contact to not so subtly look at Paige’s mouth.

“So can I?” Paige asked, moving her hand to rest on Azzi’s shoulder; confidence suddenly oozing out of her every pore.

“Yes.” Azzi responded quickly, her eyes trained only on her best friend’s mouth, before starting again, as if trying to regain some dignity, “Yeah. Yes please.”

Paige gave a soft smile before moving her hand up to cup Azzi’s jaw, the other settling feather-light on her waist. She watched as Azzi’s breath hitches, and her eyes flickered close. Paige followed suit, leaning in slowly. Azzi’s hands were hovering over both of her shoulders, as if unsure of what to do. Paige doesn’t mind though, if it weren’t for the alcohol that was running amok through her system they probably wouldn’t have even been in that situation in the first place.

After an eternity of leaning in, their lips touched in a soft peck. Only for a second, before they pulled away. Azzi tasted sweet, like canned lemonade and strawberry scented lip gloss. Her skin was warm under Paige’s hands.

Maybe it had been minutes or days or years since their kiss, neither were sure. All Paige knew was that she wanted to kiss Azzi again, and so she did. That time she let herself linger, let herself apply a little bit of pressure, and in return Azzi pressed in a little harder too. When Azzi made a little sound of contentment Paige thought she might explode. She wanted to keep going, but something told her to stop, to let it be good just as it was.

When she pulled away and opened her eyes, Azzi still had hers closed. And for a split second, Paige swore she caught a smile on her face, a kind of smile she had never given to Paige before.

Now that was it. That was the cosmic feeling Paige had been waiting for. Scratch the cruisers, scratch everything else, that was the feeling. The kind that people chase their whole lives, and Paige had just experienced it on a random Friday night in the quiet of her room.

Friendship really was magical.

Azzi was her best friend, of course it would be her, they were the closest of all platonic soulmates.

A few seconds later, Azzi opened her eyes, and smiled at her. Her hands were still on Paige’s shoulders and she decided that she wouldn’t mind holding onto each other like that forever.

Kicking off their shoes they surrendered to wearing their outside clothes to sleep. Paige had a double bed, which was the absolute perfect size for two people in Azzi’s opinion.

They tangled together in a mess of warm limbs under the blanket. Azzi had her head on Paige’s chest, listening to the rhythmic thumping of her heartbeat.

“Thanks Paigey. I’m glad you were my first kiss” She whispered against her jumpered chest.

“I’m glad you were mine too Az, that’s what best friends are for, right?” Paige smiled good-naturedly, her chin coming to rest against Azzi’s head.

Azzi let out a little choked sound before she responded, “Yeah, best friends, totally.”

Paige ignored the weird way she was talking - it had been a long night - and pulled Azzi into her just a little tighter, prepared to let sleep take over.

Just when she thought she was about to fall asleep she heard Azzi’s whisper again, “Paige, you were right.”

“Yeah I usually am.” Paige smirked sleepily.

“So full of yourself, god.” Azzi said as she used her arm draped around Paige’s waist to poke her in the side.

Wincing slightly Paige gloated, “That’s like the second time you’ve said something like that to me tonight.”

“Yeah whatever you goof.” Azzi conceded, seemingly forgetting about whatever it was she had to say.

Paige wanted to sleep, but she wanted to know what it was that Azzi was going to tell her, “Wait, so what specifically was I right about?” she asked as she gave Azzi’s shoulder a soft squeeze.

“Oh right” Azzi spoke softly, “It was Aaron B.”

Azzi always got a little out of it when she was tired, but she always remembered to finish her sentences, “It was Aaron B, what?”

Paige thought she had fallen back asleep after Azzi had gone silent for so long, but after taking a quick inhale of breath Azzi answered quietly, “It was Aaron B that peed his pants on sixth grade camp.”

If it weren’t for the fact Paige was so determined to know what Azzi had said she would have missed the softly spoken words, but she didn’t and she was so glad she heard them.

Paige burst out laughing and Azzi followed along.

“You’re kidding me!” Paige wheezed between gasps.

But Azzi was too busy laughing so hard she could barely breathe, clutching onto Paige’s arm as her mouth opened wide in silent laughter.

That was how they fell asleep, tucked into one another as their heaving laughter gave way to shallow, sleeping breath.

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Feel free to send me asks or opinions and stuff in my inbox or DMs, responding to them is my favourite it's so much fun. As always, thanks for reading :)

#azzi fudd #paige bueckers #paige x azzi #pazzi #uconn wbb #azzi fudd fic #paige bueckers fic #uconn huskies #uconnwbb #wcbb #lesbian #long long time

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mostlysignssomeportents · 2 years ago

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Housing is a labor issue

There's a reason Reagan declared war on unions before he declared war on everything else – environmental protection, health care, consumer rights, financial regulation. Unions are how working people fight for a better world for all of us. They're how everyday people come together to resist oligarchy, extraction and exploitation.

Take the 2019 LA teachers' strike. As Jane McAlevey writes in A Collective Bargain, the LA teachers didn't just win higher pay for their members! They also demanded (and got) an end to immigration sweeps of parents waiting for their kids at the school gate; a guarantee of green space near every public school in the city; and on-site immigration counselors in LA schools:

https://pluralistic.net/2023/04/23/a-collective-bargain/

Unionization is enjoying an historic renaissance. The Hot Labor Summer transitioned to an Eternal Labor September, and it's still going strong, with UAW president Shawn Fain celebrating his members victory over the Big Three automakers by calling for a 2028 general strike:

https://www.teenvogue.com/story/uaw-general-strike-no-class

The rising labor movement has powerful allies in the Biden Administration. NLRB general counsel Jennifer Abruzzo is systematically gutting the "union avoidance" playbook. She's banned the use of temp-work app blacklists that force workers to cross picket lines:

https://pluralistic.net/2023/07/30/computer-says-scab/#instawork

She's changed the penalty for bosses who violate labor law during union drives. It used to be the boss would pay a fine, which was an easy price to pay in exchange for killing your workers' union. Now, the penalty is automatic recognition of the union:

https://pluralistic.net/2023/09/06/goons-ginks-and-company-finks/#if-blood-be-the-price-of-your-cursed-wealth

And while the law doesn't allow Abruzzo to impose a contract on companies that refuse to bargain their unions, she's set to force those companies to honor other employers' union contracts until they agree to a contract with their own workers:

https://onlabor.org/gc-abruzzo-just-asked-the-nlrb-to-overturn-ex-cell-o-heres-why-that-matters/

She's also nuking TRAPs, the deals that force workers to repay their employers for their "training expenses" if they have the audacity to quit and get a better job somewhere else:

https://pluralistic.net/2023/09/14/prop-22-never-again/#norms-code-laws-markets

(As with every aspect of the Biden White House, its labor policy is contradictory and self-defeating, with other Biden appointees working to smash worker power, including when Biden broke the railworkers' strike:)

https://pluralistic.net/2023/09/18/co-determination/#now-make-me-do-it

A surging labor movement opens up all kinds of possibilities for a better world. Writing for the Law and Political Economy Project, UNITE Here attorney Zoe Tucker makes the case for unions as a way out of America's brutal housing crisis:

https://lpeproject.org/blog/why-unions-should-join-the-housing-fight/

She describes how low-waged LA hotel workers have been pushed out of neighborhoods close to their jobs, with UNITE Here members commuting three hours in each direction, starting their work-days at 3AM in order to clock in on time:

https://twitter.com/MorePerfectUS/status/1669088899769987079

UNITE Here members are striking against 50 hotels in LA and Orange County, and their demands include significant cost-of-living raises. But more money won't give them back the time they give up to those bruising daily commutes. For that, unions need to make housing itself a demand.

As Tucker writes, most workers are tenants and vice-versa. What's more, bad landlords are apt to be bad bosses, too. Stepan Kazaryan, the same guy who owns the strip club whose conditions were so bad that it prompted the creation of Equity Strippers NoHo, the first strippers' union in a generation, is also a shitty landlord whose tenants went on a rent-strike:

https://pluralistic.net/2023/05/20/the-missing-links/#plunderphonics

So it was only natural that Kazaryan's tenants walked the picket line with the Equity Stripper Noho workers:

https://twitter.com/glendaletenants/status/1733290276599570736?s=46

While scumbag bosses/evil landlords like Kazaryan deal out misery retail, one apartment building at a time, the wholesale destruction of workers' lives comes from private equity giants who are the most prolific source of TRAPs, robo-scabbing apps, illegal union busting, and indefinite contract delays – and these are the very same PE firms that are buying up millions of single-family homes and turning them into slums:

https://pluralistic.net/2022/02/08/wall-street-landlords/#the-new-slumlords

Tucker's point is that when a worker clocks out of their bad job, commutes home for three hours, and gets back to their black-mold-saturated, overpriced apartment to find a notice of a new junk fee (like a surcharge for paying your rent in cash, by check, or by direct payment), they're fighting the very same corporations.

Unions who defend their workers' right to shelter do every tenant a service. A coalition of LA unions succeeded in passing Measure ULA, which uses a surcharge on real estate transactions over $5m to fund "the largest municipal housing program in the country":

https://unitedtohousela.com/app/uploads/2022/05/LA_City_Affordable_Housing_Petition_H.pdf

LA unions are fighting for rules to limit Airbnbs and other platforms that transform the city's rental stock into illegal, unlicensed hotels:

https://upgo.lab.mcgill.ca/publication/strs-in-los-angeles-2022/Wachsmuth_LA_2022.pdf

And the hotel workers organized under UNITE Here are fighting their own employers: the hoteliers who are aggressively buying up residences, evicting their long-term tenants, tearing down the building and putting up a luxury hotel. They got LA council to pass a law requiring hotels to build new housing to replace any residences they displace:

https://www.latimes.com/california/story/2023-11-28/airbnb-operators-would-need-police-permit-in-l-a-under-proposed-law

UNITE Here is bargaining for a per-room hotel surcharge to fund housing specifically for hotel workers, so the people who change the sheets and clean the toilets don't have to waste six hours a day commuting to do so.

Labor unions and tenant unions have a long history of collaboration in the USA. NYC's first housing coop was midwifed by the Amalgamated Clothing Workers of America in 1927. The Penn South coop was created by the International Ladies Garment Workers’ Union. The 1949 Federal Housing Act passed after American unions pushed hard for it:

http://www.peterdreier.com/wp-content/uploads/2014/07/Labors-Love-Lost.pdf

It goes both ways. Strong unions can create sound housing – and precarious housing makes unions weaker. Remember during the Hollywood writers' strike, when an anonymous studio ghoul told the press the plans was to "allow things to drag on until union members start losing their apartments and losing their houses?"

Vienna has the most successful housing in any major city in the world. It's the city where people of every income and background live in comfort without being rent-burdened and without worry about eviction, mold, or leaks. That's the legacy of Red Vienna, the Austrian period of Social Democratic Workers' Party rule and built vast tracts of high-quality public housing. The system was so robust that it rebounded after World War II and continues to this day:

https://www.politico.eu/article/vienna-social-housing-architecture-austria-stigma/

Today, the rest of the world is mired in a terrible housing crisis. It's not merely that the rent's too damned high (though it is) – housing precarity is driving dangerous political instability:

https://pluralistic.net/2021/06/06/the-rents-too-damned-high/

Turning the human necessity of shelter into a market commodity is a failure. The economic orthodoxy that insists that public housing, rent control, and high-density zoning will lead to less housing has failed. rent control works:

https://pluralistic.net/2023/05/16/mortgages-are-rent-control/#housing-is-a-human-right-not-an-asset

Leaving housing to the market only produces losers. If you have the bad luck to invest everything you have into a home in a city that contracts, you're wiped out. If you have the bad luck into invest everything into a home in a "superstar city" where prices go up, you also lose, because your city becomes uninhabitable and your children can't afford to live there:

https://pluralistic.net/2021/09/27/lethal-dysfunction/#yimby

A strong labor movement is the best chance we have for breaking the housing deadlock. And housing is just for starters. Labor is the key to opening every frozen-in-place dysfunction. Take care work: the aging, increasingly chronically ill American population is being tortured and murdered by private equity hospices, long-term care facilities and health services that have been rolled up by the same private equity firms that destroyed work and housing:

https://pluralistic.net/2023/04/26/death-panels/#what-the-heck-is-going-on-with-CMS

In her interview with Capital & Main's Jessica Goodheart, National Domestic Workers Alliance president Ai-jen Poo describes how making things better for care workers will make things better for everyone:

https://prospect.org/labor/2023-12-13-labor-leader-ai-jen-poo-interview/

Care work is a "triple dignity investment": first, it makes life better for the worker (most often a woman of color), then, it allows family members of people who need care to move into higher paid work; and of course, it makes life better for people who need care: "It delivers human potential and agency. It delivers a future workforce. It delivers quality of life."

The failure to fund care work is a massive driver of inequality. America's sole federal public provision for care is Medicaid, which only kicks in after a family it totally impoverished. Funding care with tax increases polls high with both Democrats and Republicans, making it good politics:

https://www.dataforprogress.org/blog/2021/4/7/voters-support-investing-in-the-care-economy

Congress stripped many of the care provisions from Build Back Better, missing a chance for an "unprecedented, transformational investment in care." But the administrative agencies picked up where Congress failed, following a detailed executive order that identifies existing, previously unused powers to improve care in America. The EO "expands access to care, supports family caregivers and improves wages and conditions for the workforce":

https://www.whitehouse.gov/briefing-room/presidential-actions/2023/04/18/executive-order-on-increasing-access-to-high-quality-care-and-supporting-caregivers/

States are also filling the void. Washington just created a long-term care benefit:

https://apnews.com/article/washington-long-term-care-tax-disability-cb54b04b025223dbdba7199db1d254e4

New Mexicans passed a ballot initiative that establishes permanent funding for child care:

https://www.cwla.org/new-mexico-votes-for-child-care/

New York care workers won a $3/hour across the board raise:

https://inequality.org/great-divide/new-york-budget-fair-pay-home-care/

The fight is being led by women of color, and they're kicking ass – and they're doing it through their unions. Worker power is the foundation that we build a better world upon, and it's surging.

If you'd like an essay-formatted version of this post to read or share, here's a link to it on pluralistic.net, my surveillance-free, ad-free, tracker-free blog:

https://pluralistic.net/2023/12/13/i-want-a-roof-over-my-head/#and-bread-on-the-table

#pluralistic #labor #hot labor summer #eternal labor september #jane mcalevey #los angeles #weaponized shelter #housing #airbnb #equity strip noho #tenants unions #red vienna #jennifer abruzzo #nlrb #the rent's too damned high

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wordy-little-witch · 1 year ago

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Okay but One Piece being in the pirate era and the lack of a frankly inordinate amount of sea shanties hurts me. Like you know DAMN well Roger was a partier, Buggy and Shanks undoubtedly know an incredible amount of shanties, from their first crews, from the new crews, from exploring and seeing and experiencing the world so thoroughly from such a young age.

Shanks would be the type to belt them, top of his lungs, but always adhere to the Codes, though he does think on it for a moment. People think he'd be a pirate head to toe, through and through, and he is! Truly, he is. He just doesn't really live by the Code and die by the Code the way some of the older generation does.

Buggy, despite popular belief, is the one to cling to those Codes with all he has. It's subtle, in the way he hums certain songs to himself but never sings the full lyrics without Meaning. He will sing and dance and party with his crew, they will make merry but they will do so properly. He's avant garde and nouveau expressionism but he's also old fashioned.

When he finds out Shanks taught this scrawny rubber twink everything the kid knows about piracy through sporadic meetings over a year, nearing a decade ago, he is absolutely livid. The swordsman is stupid but has a decent head on his shoulders for behavior. The redhead, from what he sees, knows more than most. He decides to put class in session.

He's surprised to be beaten so thoroughly and then furthermore to be removed succinctly. He's not gonna let it slide, obviously, but he'll play along. Sure. Could be fun. He was getting bored anyway.

Shit just so happens to hit the fan with this decision and all that follow. Shanks, knowing the truth of things, is simply VERY amused and Buggy is debating fratricide.

He's been playing this role for so long, it feels unnatural to drop it. It feels wrong. It makes him panic, makes him Itch.

It only comes to a head years later as he's humming to himself late in the evening on a certain day in September, having spent a good chunk of the day on his own, away from company and to the surprise of very few. Crocodile and Mihawk are among those who do not know why, but they alone are the ones to look for him.

Finding Buggy, singing softly to an animal as he gently brushes out their fur, surrounded by calm animals who seem to nearly build a wall with their bodies between himself and the world, was not anticipated to either men. Nor was hearing Buggy's voice, usually so shrill and rasped, flow gently over a melody with a grief filled expression. Ritchie, among the ones closest, gently head butted the clown with soulful eyes. Mihawk and Crocodile simply watch, seeing Buggy groom and pamper the creatures within the stables this far from town as he sings a specific sequence of songs.

Mihawk realizes first just what they're witnessing, and he grips the logia user's arm, guiding them both back. Crocodile, startled, goes to ask, and Hawkeyes simply shakes his head sharply. It is only once they are far enough that Mihawk breaths a stunned, "He's performing Rites."

"What?"

"Rites," the swordsman reiterates, sending the other a suspicious look. "The Rites of the Code."

The mafioso takes a drag from his cigar, gesturing for the other to go on.

Mihawk sighs, pinching the bridge of his nose. "I forget," he remarks dryly, "how uneducated in ours ways you are."

"Excuse me-?!"

"Rites," the other interrupts, "are a form of mourning. Frequency varies, and the honoring actions can be altered as well. The constant component are the shanties sung in remembrance and the flags flown. For some, a single instance can be sufficient..." Golden eyes drift to the side, unfocused, as he continues. "For others, there is a need to continue doing so. Often, it is a crew mourning a commanding officer. Unlike Marines, Pirates all share an unspoken connection. Though paths may vary and goals may differ, we all care Her in our veins."

Violet eyes love to the expanse of blue, the horizon bleeding across the world. He knew. He may lack some of the nuance of the Code from his priorities laying further inland, but he knew this. How could he not when his own blood sang salted sprays? He knew this much at the very least.

"So the clown is in mourning."

"Yes."

".... why?"

"...... ....... it is September."

"And?"

"The 28th."

"What does that have to do with anything?"

"You were there, too, 25 years ago. Loguetown."

Silence falls.

The wind rustles branches overhead. It carries the faintest wisps of a voice. The two men pointedly ignore it and the choked quality it had.

".... I see."

"..... yes. That is my theory, at any rate."

"............. Hawkeye."

"What?"

"He was on the King's crew."

"Yes, this has been established."

"Why?"

"Whatever do you mean?"

"Why him? Why the clown? He's not even 40 yet, so that day... he'd have been, what, 15, at the most? He'd have been on the crew for years by that point. He was there before the man was crowned, after all."

"Shanks was, as well. I believe the earliest mention was when he mentioned an incident from their childhood. He'd said they were... oh, what was it? Seven? Thereabouts. To be on a crew so young..."

"To be there so long, Hawkeye. The brat would have been with them since childhood. That crew was infamous for the things they did - the clown does not fit the pattern."

"He does not boast anything nearing the decorum expected of a fledgling of a King..."

"He knows the Codes, something never mentioned to us nor taught explicitly to his crew that we know of. He served under the King and kept it hidden from the world government for decades. He escaped the Grandline and settled as an East Blue nuisance for years. He was imprisoned in Impel Down with no sea stone."

Golden eyes widen. "You believe he has been hiding more than simply his heritage."

"What makes more sense? This, or what we have thought so far."

"How would we confirm it?"

"Just ask me, maybe?"

Neither man will admit to being startled when a new voice chimes in, soft and hoarse, drowsy. Buggy leans into Ritchie's side as the lion purrs loudly, the clown rubbing his eye.

He continues. "Tomorrow, though. It's late, I'm not feeling well, and Ritch and I have a date with my blanket nest."

"The lion?" / "Blanket nest?"

Buggy giggles softly. "Weighted blankets are expensive. Weighted Ritchies only cost snacks and chin scritches," he remarks softly. "As for the blankets, nests are the way to go. Good night."

Two dark haired men are left by a drowsy clown and lion in the woods on the edge of town with much to thing on and a list to compile for the next day.

The first question? How Mihawk had not sensed him whatsoever on approach.

#buggy #buggy the clown #one piece #cross guild #sir crocodile #dracule mihawk #buggy is a roger pirate #sea shanties my beloved #i am so eepy #send help

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enchantedflameandflower · 1 year ago

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Billy Butcher fic! 18+

-Her breath caught in her throat and she had to swallow. The way he looked, standing over her, dark and tall and brooding and wanting, his gaze sweeping across her form as he unbuttoned his shirt and tossed it away…

“Butcher,” she reached for him, her gaze roaming over his chest, and he kneeled on the bed next to her.

Glimmer 35/?

(You don’t need to have read previous chapters to enjoy this smut!)

Tag List: @2dead2function @secretdreamlandmentality

Thank you for all the love! You're all the best! This takes place during season 3 episode 6 (Herogasm) right before he tells Hughie it's not his blood ;) Oi, Oi! I recommend the watch!

Chapter 1

Previous Chapter (34)

~*~*~

Chapter 35

As Butcher slammed his car door shut he eyed the doorman at the posh uptown high rise warily from across the street. First test, he reckoned.

One last time, he tried to talk himself out of this…but no. This was the best way to get the information they needed. Or at least the quickest way. He didn’t have time for anything else, he needed that address now.

And yeah it had nothing to do with the way he saw her face every night when he closed his eyes.

Butcher strode across the street, holding his breath as the doorman caught his eye, but the old man nodded, grinning. “Long time no see, Butcher,” he barked out in his rough Brooklyn accent.

“Aye,” Butcher gave him his most charming smile, white teeth gleaming. “Well I -“

“That fuckin’ virus goin’ round really knocked me on my ass for a couple weeks,” the doorman continued. “Hope the temporary guy didn’t give you no trouble.”

“Oh, uh aye,” Butcher winked, changing tracks smooth as silk. “S’all good mate. Good to see ya back,” he clapped him on the shoulder.

The man opened the door for Butcher and he nodded in thanks before he made his way across the lobby to the elevator. He punched in the nine digit code that gave Addison access to the top floors and gave a huff of relief when the doors slid open without a beat. Was he surprised? He wasn’t sure… Addison had always kept him on his toes.

The next test was the code for her door. He’d made damn sure when she moved in it always automatically locked no matter what. It was near unbreakable plus it had its own long code to get in.

He pressed the numbers quickly; she would know it was him as soon as she heard the first beep. The door opened and he slipped in letting it close and lock again automatically behind him.

Last test. She didn’t kill him immediately the second he closed her door. But she gave a beleaguered sigh from where she was standing in the kitchen. Fuck, did women take a class to learn how to do that all in the same way?

“What the fuck do you want, Butcher?” she muttered without turning around.

Well could be worse, he thought shrugging to himself, so he went for it. “Need a favor, love.”

Addison paused in the middle of chopping a cucumber, seemed to freeze completely, and for a moment he wondered if she was actually contemplating throwing that knife in her hand at him. Maybe he shoulda taken a hit of that temp V before he came…

“Addi. It’s important. I’ve not got much time,” he argued when she still didn’t answer.

“Are you fucking kidding me?” She growled under her breath. “Why the fuck would I help you and don’t ‘love’ me.”

He still hadn’t seen her face, but he could see her clearly in his mind. Blue-grey eyes flaring, her cheeks flushed pink... “Cuz you can’t resist doin’ the right thing, can ya?” he answered with a knowing smirk.

“The right thing?” Finally Addison spun around to glare at him, her eyes shining steel, just like he’d imagined. “Are you high?” she huffed. “Are you on that shit right now?”

He shook his head. “Nah. I’m not. Pinky promise ya. And this is for Ryan. Would ya ever forgive yourself if something happened to him?”

Addison took a breath and closed her eyes, turning back to the counter but he knew he had her.

“I thought you didn’t give a fuck about him anymore,” she muttered.

“Aye, well, I know you still do, dontcha.”

Addison scoffed, shaking her head. “I fucking hate you sometimes, Butcher.”

He grinned and spread his hands wide. “Well join the club, sunshine. We meet on Tuesday nights.”

“We?” she muttered, as she scooped a handful of cut veggies and dumped them into a bowl. “You go to the ‘We Hate Butcher’ meetings, do you?”

“I’m the fuckin’ President, sunshine.”

Addison rolled her eyes and turned around again, still brandishing the knife, which Butcher eyed warily.

“What is it? What do you need so badly.”

Fuck she was gorgeous when she was mad. But he shoved the thought away and swallowed, focusing on the task at hand. “Need an address. The twins.” He made the motion of an explosion with his hands and she narrowed her eyes at him.

“What for?”

“Just a simple deal with a… colleague , lo -“ he stopped himself just in time.

Addison shook her head. “I can’t believe you’re doing this. You’re working with Soldier Boy, aren’t you? Are you insane? Did you miss the part when he blew up midtown? You look like a lunatic or worse helping him -"

“I don’t give a fuck what anyone else thinks ‘bout me. This ain’t just about revenge anymore and you know it. Homelander could kill half the country before the sun went down. That don’t compare to one building, which was an accident by the way. And half the country now…now that includes Ryan. And you. And…and this baby. And it ain’t fuckin’ right.”

He saw when her face changed and he knew he was manipulating her ruthlessly, but the fact was that it was true, too, and she knew it.

“This is our best chance right now and I won’t let it go to waste.”

She sighed. “Explain what the fuck happened in midtown?”

Butcher shook his head. “It weren’t on purpose, whatever happened it was an accident. Look I’m not sayin’ the guy is an angel but this is our shot.”

Addison took another breath and blew it out and he knew he had gotten through to her.

“Fine,” Addison said. “If you’re really sure this is the only way.”

“Too fuckin’ right I am.”

“I’ll get the address. But only because Tommy is a fucking piece of shit and I’ve been trying to get something solid on him for years,” she paused, looking at him. “But I want a favor in return.”

Butcher took a step closer, the corner of his mouth lifting in his most pleased smirk. He couldn’t help himself. She looked like his favorite desert and he was a starving man. “And what might that be?”

******

Addison eyed him for a moment, teetering somewhere between so fucking turned on she couldn’t stand it and irritated out of her mind… the smug, rugged, handsome asshole. And fuck if she didn’t miss him so much it hurt like an iron fist to the face. She had broke it off and she wasn’t changing her mind, but it wasn’t her fault she was going absolutely crazy….

“I wanna fuck.” She had to bite back a smirk of her own at the way his eyes lit up and then he grinned, dimple and all, the fucking bastard.

“Miss me that much, eh?” he teased.

“Listen,” she huffed. “My hormones are going crazy, and that is your fucking fault by the way,” she pointed the knife at him, “and the vibrator just isn’t doing the job.”

“You could always find a new lad to play with, can’t ya?”

Addison lifted her chin, just a fraction of an inch. “No.” She couldn’t. He was the father of her child, and to her…to her, no one else mattered. Not like that. So even if there was ever a time she didn’t want him, she didn’t want anyone else either.

She turned back to the kitchen counter, chopping again before her expression could give anything away to him. Not that he didn’t already know but fuck. She wasn’t going to show it.

She heard him though, she heard him step up behind her and then his big, strong hand was sliding over her hip, and oh the things those fingers could do…

Butcher paused for a moment as if he was testing her, then, “Deal,” he husked and he spun her around. His hazel eyes were dark with emotion and she almost sighed dreamily with relief when he let his guard down and she saw that he wanted her too, that it wasn’t just her, that his words before had been just as hollow and false as she knew they were. As hers were.

Addison threw her arms around his shoulders at the same time he pulled her hard against him and captured her mouth with his.

He groaned against her lips and she held on tighter.

“Fuck, love,” he gasped when he finally pulled away to breathe, and that’s when she realized she had sliced into her arm with the knife, her blood smearing across his neck.

“Shit, sorry…” she mumbled stepping back, chagrined. She tossed the knife in the sink and wiped off the blood on her forearm to make sure the cut had healed, and when she saw it had, she grabbed his hand, pulling him toward her bedroom. She couldn’t wait any longer.

“Fuckin’ mental,” he muttered dragging his knuckles over the blood on his neck but she turned to kiss him again to shut him up, fusing her mouth to his, and then he was scooping her up in his arms to carry her the rest of the way.

He coaxed her mouth open and his tongue swept over hers, playing and teasing. She broke away just as he reached the bed, her breath heavy and nodded toward her desk. “I’ll start a search really quick,” she breathed.

“Ah…almost forgot about that…” he grinned.

He set her down next to her desk and she leaned down, her fingers flying over her keyboard as she entered in a lengthy password and set up a scan for the information he wanted. When it was set, he swept her off her feet again and laid her down across the bed.

Her breath caught in her throat and she had to swallow. The way he looked, standing over her, dark and tall and brooding and wanting, his gaze sweeping across her form as he unbuttoned his shirt and tossed it away…

“Butcher,” she reached for him, her gaze roaming over his chest, and he kneeled on the bed next to her.

He helped her push her t-shirt over her head, and rumbled when he saw she had nothing on beneath, then pressed her back down to the bed and started a line of hot kisses down between her breasts, nipping and licking on his way. She bit her lip when he paused at her stomach and brushed his mouth just below her belly button and she knew, she knew he was thinking about what they had now, what was theirs, and she wished he would come to terms with it… But then he hooked his fingers in her shorts and tugged them down her long legs along with her underwear until she was naked beneath him and she felt like she was catching on fire.

He kissed her knee then rubbed his chin over the top of her thigh and her entire body shuddered in response.

“Butcher, fuck, please,” she begged before she could stop herself and she felt him smirk against her leg.

Impatient and eager, she moved, with his hands helping, until he could settle between her legs, his broad shoulders pushing her knees apart.

“That’s my girl,” he murmured and then he dipped his head to slip his tongue inside of her. When he gave a gruff moan, and flicked his tongue lazily over her clit before stroking his tongue inside of her again she realized this wasn’t going to be a quick ‘get her warmed up then move on to the main event.’ No he seemed quite happy right there….

“Ohhh…” she whimpered, desperate and needy and eager. Almost as eager as he seemed to be.

Butcher swirled his tongue around her swollen bud and pressed his palms roughly against her legs, urging her to open wider for him. His skin was hot where it touched her and his beard tickled along her inner thighs. She slid one hand into his hair while she gripped the pillow with the other.

“So good…” she whimpered. He knew. He knew every inch of her. Shifting again, he moved so he could slide his fingertips along her folds and then he teased two fingers just an inch inside of her, rumbling at how slick she was for him. His tongue kept up its lazy patterns over her swollen clit and when he felt her climb to the next precipice, he pressed his fingers all the way inside of her.

Addison cried out as pleasure flooded through her body. Nothing could compare to this, to him. She lifted her hips eagerly, taking his fingers deeper and pushing against his tongue and he groaned in response, a pleased rumble of pride and approval.

So perfectly, he began to pump his fingers inside of her and he caught her clit between his lips, flicking his tongue over it then sucking hard. Addison was already so turned on she felt like it would only take another second to explode, and she was ready, but then he slowed, teasing her.

“This all for me, sunshine?” he rumbled, his fingers gliding easily though her wetness, looking up along the length of her body with dark eyes.

“Yes,” she moaned; writhing against him; begging for more. “Just you. Please…”

“Good girl, so sweet…” he ran the tip of his tongue across his lush lower lip. “I can give ya what ya need.”

“Please Butcher,” she whimpered, tugging on his hair.

He groaned and dipped his head back to her core, using his tongue and his mouth and his hand to hold her down and in the next moment she was clenching hard around his long fingers, crying out as her climax crashed through her, trembling and shaking with each wave of pleasure, one after another, a pure, all encompassing release.

When she’d had enough, Billy shifted slowly, wiping his forearm across his mouth and pushing himself up from the bed.

He glanced up at Addison, flush and still trying to catch her breath, but she could see the hint of uncertainty in his eyes so she reached for him. “C’mere…” He lifted his hand and she grabbed it, tugging, her eyes still alight with want.

“Hang about,” he murmured gruffly, quickly shedding the rest of his clothes, then pulling himself over her on the bed.

“Wait,” she breathed out, pressing her palm to his chest and holding him back. “Have you been sleeping around?”

“Oi, I wouldn’t say around,” he answered indignantly, making a face. “It were a mistake -“

Addison reached over to the table next to the bed, yanking the drawer open and pulling out a condom. “I don’t want to know, just -“ She pushed the small package into his palm.

“Where were this two months ago?” he asked, holding the foil package up between his fingers.

“Fuck you,” she rolled her eyes, but her need overrode any irritation. “And hurry up.”

He grinned and sat back on his heels, tearing the package open and rolled the latex down over his thick cock while she watched. The tip of her tongue darted out to wet her lower lip and he smirked at her, dimple and all.

“Shut up,” she muttered but she reached for him, pulling him close again, until their mouths met in a searing kiss.

But when he pulled back again, his eyes were serious. “Are ya sure this is what you want, Addi?”

“Yesssss,” she groaned, nodding, and he moved without another seconds hesitation, nestling his hips between her thighs. She could sense him going slower as his belly pressed to hers. How long would it be before her belly curved up, how long before…

…but they both let it pass.

"So fuckin’ gorgeous," he murmured low and smoky as he reached down and dragged his tip over her still throbbing clit.

Addison lifted her hips impatiently and it made him slide in an inch, groaning as he did. “More,” she whimpered. He caught his breath and pressed the rest of the way inside of her, filling her completely, deeply with one slow thrust.

She squeezed her body around his length and watched as his eyes went even darker.

“Fuck ya feel good, princess.”

“Don’t - oh!” she whimpered as he pulled back and pushed inside of her again. “… call me that….”

He didn’t reply but he didn’t call her that again either. He started a rhythm, each thrust slow and measured and making her squirm beneath his weight.

Addison whimpered and moaned, sliding her palms over his muscled back, letting her short fingernails bite into his hot skin. He let out a deep groan, but continued his thrusts, precise and steady.

Her entire body shuddered when he hit that perfect spot inside of her and her hips bucked up, taking him deeper. She bit her lip, but already she was teetering on the edge and desperate for him to take her over.

“Please, yes, please…” she cried, wrapping her legs around his hips.

“Does my girl wanna come for me again?” he husked, his breath hot against the shell of her ear.

“Yes…” she gasped.

He slid his hand between them, circling his thumb against her clit and she shifted to make more room. “That’s my good girl,” he rumbled. “Come nice and hard for me.”

She cried out and gasped again, beyond words now and after a few more smooth thrusts and slippery circles of his thumb she was climaxing, whimpering helplessly, throbbing around his cock and clenching hard. He followed just after with a gruff, deep moan and the sound sent her soaring again, a new sob of pleasure escaping her lips.

He pressed his face to the curve of her neck, his arms pulling her to him as they rode out the waves together and Addison gave a long purr of sated joy, all of her body releasing the tension of the last few weeks at once.

The two of them stayed that way for what felt like hours, him wrapped around her so tight it was almost difficult to breathe but she didn’t care. It felt like heaven.

Eventually he moved and lifted his head from where it was buried against her neck, a few strands of her hair sticking to his damp skin.

“Ya alright?” he asked, voice gruff.

“Mmmmm,” she hummed, and nodded.

He moved, slow to let go of her, lingering just a little, but sitting up all the same.

“I’d hate to be accused of bein’ unromantic but I’m on a bit of a schedule, sunshine.”

Addison nodded sleepily and Butcher stood, carefully removing the condom and tying it off before getting rid of it. Addison sat up at the edge of the bed, trying to work up the strength to get up but before she could, Billy swung her up in his arms again, and carried her to the bathroom.

When she was done, he carried her back to the bed and she laughed softly as he tucked her in, pulling the thick comforter up to her chin as she snuggled into the blankets.

He lifted the towel he’d brought out to wipe at her blood that was dried on his neck but she made a soft sound and he turned to look at her, pausing.

“Don’t,” she said in a quiet voice with a mischievous smile. “Leave it. Cuz you’re mine.”

“You’re stark ravin.’”

“You like it.”

He shook his head, but his expression was soft as he started to gather his clothes.

“Billy,” she murmured as he tugged his pants back on, buckling his belt.

It was the first time she’d used his first name since he’d been there.

“Do you really think you have a chance of taking out Homelander.”

“Aye. I have to try. For Ryan.”

“I know. And Becca. And the baby.”

He took a step back toward her. “And you.”

She nodded minutely. “I’m with you then.”

He was quiet for a moment before he looked away. “I best go.”

“Get my laptop.”

She tapped at the keys, and felt him watching her as her eyes scanned the results. “Vermont,” she said, turning the laptop to show him the address.

He reached for a pen off her nightstand and scrawled the address on a scrap of paper before stuffing it into his pocket. “Thanks, Addi,” he murmured.

She nodded, but she was already drifting off again, turning to snuggle her face into the pillow next to her when she remembered she had been making dinner. “Will you bring me the chips from the cupboard before you go though…” she mumbled.

“Thought you were making a salad?"

“Mmmm. D’nt want that… And a can of seltzer. And the gummy bears.”

Billy gave a low chuckle. “Oi, anything for you, sunshine."

His voice was soft, and it was honestly the most relaxed she’d felt in weeks. Maybe everything would be okay.

Addison fell sound asleep, hugging a pillow to her chest, before he came back to leave her snacks on the bedside table.

~*~*~

Thank you so much for reading! Please let me know what you think! One word, a few words, many words, an emoji, all comments are good! Let me know what you want to see, anything!

Chapter 36

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