Was Any Of It True?
Pairing: badboy!Azriel x goodgirl!Reader
Summary: Modern/College AU! Az’s on-again-off-again girlfriend gives Azriel a proposition: make the new bookworm fall in love with him, then break her heart, in exchange for anything he wants. He agrees, but things get complicated when he falls for Reader for real.
Based on this request! 🩷
Warnings: angst, sexual language?, swearing, Azriel & friends being assholes
Word Count: 10.2k oh lord sorry besties I couldn’t shut my little brain off
“I'm telling you, Az, she's pissing me off. The professor loves her, and I saw that she got a 100 on the exam,” Claire was seething while she and Azriel lounged in his apartment, eating the pizza he'd ordered.
“Mhmm,” he mumbled around his pizza, only half listening. Claire was always complaining about something. “And what did you get?”
“98! He took two points off because I didn't answer thoroughly enough,” she scoffed. “God, I hate her. She's going to push me right off the top of the Dean's list.”
Azriel blinked. “I mean, you'll still be very near the top of the list.”
Claire groaned, throwing her napkin onto her paper plate angrily, “That's not good enough!”
He rolled his eyes and she glared at him. “Don't be an ass! This is a big deal to me.”
“Oh, I know it is. This girl is all you talk about.”
“Because I hate her. Maybe if she got laid, she’d be distracted enough to slip up once in a while,” she grumbled.
“Yeah, maybe,” Azriel said, pulling his laptop out of his backpack and setting it on the table, a sufficient signal that he didn’t want to talk about his girlfriend’s arch nemesis anymore.
No more than a week later, Azriel’s on-again-off-again girlfriend was off-again, and honestly, he was relieved. Claire’s obsession with being at the top of the academic food chain was bordering on insanity, and he was glad he didn’t have to hear about it anymore.
He was currently at a house party that Cassian had dragged him to, with a blonde girl that he couldn’t remember the name of sitting in his lap, one of her arms draped behind his neck, the other resting on his chest. She had been whispering in his ear all the things that she wanted to do to him, before Cassian interrupted, handing Azriel a shot with a grin.
Blondie scowled at Cassian, who just smirked back as the girl that Cass had been talking to earlier sidled up next to him, wrapping her arms around his middle.
Azriel knocked the shot back and handed the cup it had come in to the blonde girl. “Can you get me another one?”
She seemed annoyed, but took the cup from him anyway, striding into the kitchen.
“Sorry for interrupting,” Cassian said, settling on the couch next to him, before pulling the girl onto his lap.
Azriel rolled his eyes. “Like I give a shit.”
Cassian snickered as the blonde girl came back, draping herself in his lap again, handing him another shot. He drank it, just as Claire appeared before him, her arms crossed over her chest, and her brow furrowed.
“What do you want?” he asked, his voice husky.
“I have a proposition for you.”
He smirked, making a show of tightening his grip on the blonde girl’s waist. “No, thanks. Been there, done that.”
“Not that kind of proposition, you idiot. Can we talk privately? I think it’ll be worth your while,” she said, her lips turning up into a sultry smile.
“I don’t know, Claire, I’m pretty busy right now,” he said, turning his gaze to the blonde girl, squeezing her thigh. She sighed dreamily, leaning further into him.
Claire groaned. “Look, Az, I really need your help. Please?”
Azriel studied Claire, and he could see that it was true. She was wearing her most annoyed, don’t-fuck-with-me face, but her eyes were pleading. Sad.
He sighed, glancing apologetically at the girl in his lap before turning back to Claire. “Fine, we can talk.”
She led him into someone’s empty bedroom and shut the door behind her.
“If this is about that girl you’re obsessed with, so help me,” he said. She winced, and he threw his head back. “Unbelievable. Claire, I don’t want to hear about this anymore! I don’t care about your problems.”
“Just hear me out!”
He crossed his arms over his chest, and raised an eyebrow at her, waiting.
“She actually is threatening my spot on the Dean’s list now,” she said, looking close to tears.
He looked pointedly at her. “And?”
“And I was thinking about what I said earlier… about how if a really hot guy was interested in her, maybe she would stop caring about her grades so much,” she said, smiling at him now.
“And?” Azriel just wished she would get to the point.
Claire sighed, exasperated. “I need you to seduce her.”
Azriel barked out a laugh, leaning his shoulder against the nearest wall. “You’re kidding, right? Why would I do that?”
She stepped closer to him, trailing a finger along his chest, her touch feather-light through his black t-shirt. She looked up at him from beneath her lashes, “Because I asked? Because I’ll give you anything you want,” she said, her voice dropping seductively.
He held her gaze, leaning down until their mouths were a breath away. Azriel heard her breath hitch.
Then he pulled away rapidly, and she blinked. “Sweetheart, you know I can fuck you anytime I want, right? That is not going to persuade me to help you.”
Her brow furrowed, her nose scrunching up. Oh, she was furious. Azriel's mouth turned up into his calculated half smile.
“What do you want, Az?” she huffed.
“Hmm,” he said, taking his time to think. Claire scowled. “I haven’t decided yet. But when I need to call in a favor of my own, you have to promise to do it. No matter what,” he drawled.
To her credit, she really looked like she was thinking it through, trying to think of another way to push this girl off the list. But finally, she sighed. “Deal.”
He pushed off the wall, walking towards the door. “Alright, so I just have to seduce the bookworm? Easy.”
Claire shook her head, her eyes still alight with her anger. “No, if I’m going to agree to any favor you could possibly want, you’re going to have to go further. You need to make her fall in love with you.”
Azriel bristled a bit, leaning against the door now. “I know I’m an asshole, but that seems too far, don’t you think?”
“No. If she’s going to be distracted enough that her grades will slip, you need to make it seem real,” she said, and then smiled as if she had a wicked thought.
“What?” Azriel asked.
“And then you break her heart, right before exams,” she said excitedly, her eyes burning with enthusiasm now. “You tell her, in front of everyone, that it was all fake.”
He rubbed at his bicep, a nervous tic that Claire picked up on immediately. “Jesus, Claire. I don’t want to ruin this girl’s life.”
She arched her brow. “Why not? She’s ruining mine.”
Azriel rolled his eyes and Claire pounced, “Any favor, Az. Any time, you can tell me to do whatever you want,” she smirked.
He groaned, pinching his nose. “Fine,” he ground out. “Where do I find her?”
Claire beamed. “Where else would a nerd be? The library, of course.”
---
You shifted in your seat, starting to feel sore after poring over your notes for hours. Maybe you should go for a walk. Maybe. But, you still had so much to do…
Groaning, you crossed your arms on the table, laying your head down on top of them. Just a minute, you just needed a tiny break --
“Studying always makes me feel like that, too,” said a low, male voice.
You lifted your head, bewildered, and nearly choked on your own spit. The guy who was for some reason deigning to talk to you was… well, what other way was there to say it? He was drop-dead gorgeous.
His face was stoic as he sauntered up to your table, his jet black hair was just a tad unruly, his hazel eyes burning into yours. But it was his body that made the breath completely escape your lungs. He was dressed in all black, his t-shirt hugging his chest and his biceps, showing off his every muscle, and there were swirling black tattoos peeking out from under his sleeves.
All you could do was stare as he took the seat across from you, leaning back with his arms crossed like the two of you did this every day.
“What class is that for?” he asked, nodding to the textbook open in front of you, the dozens of papers scattered around you.
“Organic Chemistry,” you said, trying to sound like you were normal and not completely surprised by this handsome stranger finding you in your favorite quiet corner of the library.
He let out a low whistle, “Damn, you are smart.”
“What, did someone tell you I was?” you asked.
“No, I just figured when I saw all the --” he gestured to your cluttered workspace, “homework stuff.”
You arched an eyebrow. “Homework stuff?”
His mouth turned up the slightest bit, holding up his hands like he was surrendering. “You caught me. I’m not much of an academic.”
“Then what are you doing here?” you asked curiously.
“Now, that is an excellent question,” he said, and really did seem like he was questioning it. “Girls? Parties? Though I could get girls anywhere and I don't particularly enjoy parties.”
You nodded. “Ah,” you said. “Got it.”
He braced his arms on the table, leaning forward. “I take it you’re not into that kinda thing?”
A dry laugh escaped from your throat, “Definitely not. I’m really only here for the--” you mimicked his gesture from earlier, “homework stuff.”
He barked out a laugh, his stoic face completely transforming for the briefest of moments. You couldn’t help but stare. “You’re telling me all you do is study? A beautiful girl like you? Please tell me you’ve been to at least one party,” he said, looking at you incredulously.
You blushed. “No, I haven’t been to any.”
You braced yourself for impact, for the teasing or insults to come, but he just smiled softly. “You wanna go to one with me tonight?”
Your eyebrows knit together in confusion. “You don’t even know my name.”
The side of his mouth quirked up into a smile, his eyes dancing with amusement. “What's your name?”
Rolling your eyes, you told him.
“Nice to meet you. I'm Azriel.” He raised his eyebrows, “So? Party?”
“I thought you just said you don't like parties!”
“True, but I do love the thought of corrupting a sweet, innocent bookworm,” he smirked.
“No, thanks.” You couldn't imagine yourself going to a house party, especially not with a stranger.
Azriel's cool-guy demeanor seemed to drop the slightest bit. “Why not?”
You looked at him pointedly. “I don't know you. And I have no interest in being corrupted. Why do you want me to come to this party so badly anyway?”
He shrugged casually. “I like you.”
“You don't know me!”
“See, that, right there,” he snapped his fingers and pointed at you. “You're funny. Smart, beautiful. What's not to like?”
You forced yourself to hold his gaze, even as a blush rose to your cheeks. “I'm not going to a party with someone I don't know. They make true crime documentaries about that sort of thing.”
He seemed to contemplate that for a moment. “Okay, you make a fair point. What do you want to do then?”
“What do you mean?”
“You can pick our first date, since you didn't like my idea.”
“What date?” You blanched.
He arched an eyebrow. “Our first date? Weren't you listening?”
You studied him for a moment. For the life of you, you could not figure out what this guy's angle was.
As if reading your mind, he said softly, “Look, I just saw you and thought you were really pretty, and that it looked like you could use a break from studying. That's it,” he held his hands up again. “I didn't mean to make you uncomfortable. If you want me to go, I'll go.”
For a beat longer, you watched him, his body language, his ridiculously pretty face. What was the harm, really? You sighed, tore off a scrap of paper from your notebook, scribbled out your number, then handed it to him. “I need to study. If you text me later, I'll let you know where we're going on the first date.”
His face broke out into what might have been the first genuine smile you'd seen from him. He took the paper from you, his fingers brushing against yours.
“Can't wait.”
You were half expecting to never hear from Azriel again. But just a few hours later, as you were eating dinner in your apartment, your phone chimed with a text.
Az: Done studying yet?
It was an effort to bite down your smile.
You: Taking a break for dinner.
It was less than a minute before he responded.
Az: Dinner? Is that what our first date is going to be?
You didn’t try to hide your smile this time.
You: A little cliche, don’t you think?
Az: Oh, absolutely. So… what are we doing?
You: Meet at the tennis courts at 7 tomorrow?
Az: We’re playing tennis?
You: No, but I’m not giving you my address. And I’m not giving away the surprise.
Az: So smart. So mysterious. I’m swooning.
You: Shut up.
Az: See you tomorrow ;)
You tossed your phone to the side, forcing yourself to focus back on your schoolwork.
The following day you parked your car by the empty tennis courts on campus just before 7. It was early spring; the weather finally started to warm up enough to not be too chilly in the evening. Still, you rubbed your arms nervously. You were starting to regret this. You didn’t know this guy at all. What if it went horribly wrong?
Before you could contemplate bailing, a familiar figure rode up on a jet black motorcycle. Of course this guy had a motorcycle. You couldn't see his face underneath the helmet, but you would already recognize those tattooed arms anywhere.
He parked his bike, smoothly sliding off it and taking his helmet off before sauntering over to you. “Hey, beautiful.”
You rolled your eyes, sure that he had said that to a million girls on a million dates before.
“What? Don’t do that,” he said softly, his smile softening and his gaze raking down your body. “You are beautiful.”
“Thank you,” you said quietly, giving in.
“So,” he said, towering over you. “What’s the plan?”
You smiled. “How’s your mini golf game?”
He raised an eyebrow, looking a little skeptical. “Mini golf? That’s what you’re choosing?”
“Yes, it is. Do you have something to say about that?” you teased.
His eyes sparked at the tone in your voice. “Nope. Nothing at all.” He nodded to his motorcycle. “You wanna hop on the bike?”
You looked pointedly at him and he laughed. “Didn’t think so,” he gestured to your car. “Lead the way.”
Your nerves started to dim as the two of you fell into a rhythm going through the course. The two of you were just talking and laughing like it was normal. It was… fun, actually.
“Shit,” Azriel muttered as he overshot the hole. Again.
You laughed and his eyes flicked over to you, lingering a bit. “You’re good at this, bookworm,” he said as he took another shot, sinking it into the hole this time. You watched, leaning against your putter, having finished that hole two shots ago.
Shrugging, you said, “I used to go with my family a lot.”
He placed his hand on the small of your back as you walked to the next hole. You cleared your throat, focusing on your steps, on your breathing, on anything but how it felt to have him touch you so casually. “What about you?”
“What about me?” he asked as you dropped your ball onto the green.
You took your shot before you answered. The ball landed just shy of the hole. “What’s your family like?”
“My family…” he trailed off, clearing his throat, setting up his shot. He paused to look at you for a moment before he swung. “It’s complicated.”
He hit the ball and it stopped right next to yours.
“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to pry,” you said, as the two of you walked further down the hole.
“No, you didn’t. It’s just… I don’t really talk about them with anybody.”
You nodded, not sure where to go from here.
Azriel smiled reassuringly, nudging you lightly with his shoulder. “Stop worrying.”
“I’m not worrying,” you claimed, your voice an octave too high.
“You are. I can tell.”
You bit your lip to hide your smile as you sunk your ball into the hole.
“I think I’m going to need some pointers from you on the next hole,” he grumbled.
“I guess I could help you out,” you laughed.
So, when you got to the next hole, the last hole, he stepped so close that your bodies were nearly touching. You tried to control your breathing.
“You’re gonna help me out?” he murmured, his eyes flashing down to your lips for a moment.
“Okay,” you breathed.
He stepped behind you, his body pressed against your back, wrapping his arms around you, his hands covering yours on the club.
“How is this going to help you, exactly?” you asked, your voice slightly unsteady.
His lips brushed your ear as he said, “Oh, trust me, it’s helping.”
You couldn’t say anything. Could hardly breathe.
“What do you think I’m doing wrong?” He murmured.
You swallowed. “You’re hitting it too hard. Not exactly rocket science.”
“Mmm. That makes sense. I do tend to go… hard.”
That finally had you coming to your senses. You stepped out of his grasp, turning back to glare at him when you were a safe distance away.
The side of his mouth turned up into a smile. “Sorry. I couldn't help myself.”
You resisted the urge to roll your eyes at him again. “Just take your shot.”
He smirked at you for a moment, before he swung, and the ball went right into the hole.
He turned to you, his eyes wide. You laughed and he hugged you, picking you up and spinning you around.
You let out an involuntary squeal of surprise, and he laughed, gazing into your eyes as he set you back on the ground. “Thanks for the help.”
“I think you’ve been playing me this whole time,” you joked.
His smile fell a little, his eyes sobering.
“What’s wrong?” you asked. When he just stared at you, his expression unreadable, you added, “Azriel, I was joking.”
He blinked and then his natural, stoic expression was back as he took a step closer to you. “Right. I think you’re just a good teacher.”
You just looked at him, trying to decipher the changes in his mood, who he really was underneath the gruff exterior.
He smiled faintly, stepping even closer. “What are you thinking about?”
You had to crane your neck to look him in the eye now. “I'm trying to figure out what you're thinking about.”
Azriel's smile turned into a smirk. “I'm thinking… that I really want to kiss you. But I don't want to scare you away.”
Heat flooded your face and his smile turned softer as he cupped your cheek gently with a rough hand. “Would it scare you away?” He murmured.
“I -- don't know,” you said honestly.
His hazel eyes dipped to your lips and stayed there. “I think I'm gonna have to take the risk,” he said, his voice low, husky.
“I think so, too,” you breathed.
His free hand slinked around your waist, gently pulling your body into his. Your heart thundered in your chest as he leaned down, slowly bringing his lips to yours. He seemed to give you a moment to process, and you felt him smile against your mouth when you started to kiss him back, your fingers curling around his bicep, his shoulder.
You were breathless by the time he pulled away, and as the two of you drove back to the tennis courts, you couldn't help but hope that it would happen again by the end of the night.
When you parked your car near his motorcycle in the abandoned lot, he lingered, his gaze holding yours, dropping to your mouth again.
He shot you a crooked smile. “Aren't you gonna walk me to my bike?”
Rolling your eyes playfully, you got out of the car, walking over to the motorcycle and settling against the fence near it, crossing your arms over your chest. “Happy now?” You asked.
Slowly, he sauntered over to you, his eyes twinkling under the stars. He raised his arm, twining his fingers in the chain link fence above your head, leaning his body towards you, but not quite touching. He gazed down at you, still sporting that half smile. “Very happy,” he murmured.
Your breath hitched and when his smile widened, you knew he heard it.
He held your gaze as he leaned down, bringing his mouth to yours again. You let yourself fall deeper into the kiss this time, wrapping your arms around his neck and pulling him into you.
When he finally pulled away, he was grinning. “Want to go for a ride before you head home?” He said, nodding to his motorcycle.
You had stepped far enough out of your comfort zone for today. “Maybe next time.”
He raised his eyebrows in amusement. “So you're giving me a next time?”
Damn. You blushed. “I said maybe.”
“Uh huh, sure,” he said, leaning in again so his lips were barely an inch from yours. “You can't wait to see me again,” he whispered.
You shoved him away lightly and he chuckled, backing up towards his bike, but keeping his eyes on you. “Until next time, then. Have a good night, bookworm.” He winked before putting his helmet on and speeding away.
A few weeks, a few dates, and several kisses later, you couldn't deny that Azriel was on your mind quite a bit.
You had never thought that someone like him would be interested in someone like you, but he seemed to prove time and time again that he did indeed like you. He texted you flirty little things every day, making you blush in class. He asked about your day, and seemed to genuinely be listening, and he would do pretty much anything you wanted on your dates. Last week, the two of you had gone to a local bookstore and he had watched you browse, a small smile on his face. He ended up picking out a book he wanted you to read and you did the same for him. He had been sending you daily updates on his progress through the book. Slowly, you were starting to let your walls down, despite yourself.
So, when he asked you to finally go to a party with him, to meet his friends, you accepted. You still felt cautious: partying had never been something that you were remotely interested in, but you trusted him.
---
Azriel knew he had to tread this next part carefully. Things had been going well with you. He let you take control of your time together so you would be comfortable, and honestly, he was actually having a really good time getting to know you and seeing where you would take him next.
And when you kissed him… God. It was always a struggle to keep his hands on your waist, to stay PG. He wished he could explore things further with you in that regard, but he wouldn't let himself go there. Not when your broken heart was the finish line.
He rarely let himself think about it -- the deal that he had made with Claire. Being with you felt so natural that he usually forgot he was supposed to be acting. That he was supposed to be leading you to Claire’s revenge.
He had convinced you to come to a party, upon Claire's request so she could see the progress he had made with you. You had said yes, he assumed because you trusted him enough now. The thought made his stomach roll. He was really starting to hate himself for getting mixed up in this.
Azriel acted differently around you than he did around the rest of the general population. At a young age he had learned to keep quiet, to not show a single emotion on his pretty face, to be tough, or be punished.
With you… he couldn't help but smile. Couldn't stop the laughs that he usually stomped down for the rest of the world.
So, having his two worlds collide at this party…he didn't know exactly how to navigate it. Deep down, it made his heart swell that you trusted him enough to help you navigate something so far out of your comfort zone. But if his friends saw the way he acted around you, he would never hear the end of it.
This would be a mess.
If Azriel wasn't leaning against his motorcycle when you exited your apartment building, he may have fallen over. You were wearing skintight jeans and a black tank top that showed more cleavage than he ever imagined he'd see from you. His fingers flexed on his biceps. He wanted to pull you back into your apartment and spend an hour peeling those clothes away inch by inch.
He blinked the lust away, trying to maintain his stoic expression, but failed, as he always did with you. He smiled at you and you smiled back.
He could tell by the way you carried yourself as you neared him that you were nervous. “Hey, beautiful,” he drawled his usual greeting as you wrapped your arms around his waist in your usual greeting.
“Hi,” you said, a little sheepishly. His eyes must have lingered on your curves a little too long because your eyes widened a bit, and you bit your lip nervously as you pulled away from him. He nearly groaned. “Is it too much? Do I look stupid?”
Azriel placed his hands on your shoulders gently, dipping his head to look you in the eyes. “You look amazing. Seriously.”
You blushed and murmured, “Thank you.”
He had to turn away, to grab your helmet, so you wouldn't see how much you affected him. He fucking loved it when he made you blush like that.
Azriel turned back to you, holding up the helmet, his eyebrows raising with amusement. “You ready to join the dark side, bookworm?”
You sighed, shifting on your feet.
“It'll be okay,” he said softly. “I got you.”
You nodded, seeming to resolve yourself, and reached for the helmet with slightly shaking hands.
He helped you make sure it was on correctly, his fingers brushing your chin, your neck. He bit back a smile as you shivered.
Azriel held your hand as you got settled on the back of the bike, showing you where to put your feet, and how to shift your weight with him.
When you seemed at least somewhat comfortable, he slid his helmet on, smoothly setting onto the motorcycle. You wrapped your arms around his middle, pressing your chest into his back. You were already holding him like your life depended on it, and he beamed freely underneath the helmet.
“Hold on tight,” he shot back at you, before he revved the engine, taking off much more gently than he normally would.
He tried not to think about the feel of you pressed into him, how tightly you were holding on. It didn't work. He wanted to drive you everywhere.
He couldn't resist reaching back to briefly squeeze your thigh at a red light. “How are you doing?”
“Good,” you said. He couldn't be sure, but he thought he heard a smile in your voice.
Too soon in Azriel's opinion, they had made it to the party. He parked, offering you his hand to help you get down.
When he pulled the helmet off your head, he was pleased to see that you were indeed smiling.
“Have fun?” He smirked.
“I did, actually,” you said, sounding a little breathless.
“Whenever you need a ride, you just let me know,” he winked.
You laughed, glancing behind him at the house.
He took your hand in his, squeezing reassuringly. You seemed to relax a bit. “We can leave whenever you want, okay?”
Taking a deep breath, you nodded and smiled nervously up at him.
You were doing this for him, he realized. Because he had asked you to. His heart constricted, guilt churning in his gut again as he led you inside, your hand squeezing his tightly.
His shoulders tightened as he led you through the crowd, making sure you were tucked in close to him.
“You want a drink?” he asked, as you made your way to the kitchen.
“Sure,” you said.
He rifled through what was on the sticky counter, trying to find something not disgusting for you to drink, making sure you stayed close to him.
Finally handing you a cup, he put your hand on the small of your back, guiding you to a corner of the living room that wasn’t yet very crowded. He took a seat on the couch and you settled in next to him, tucked closely into his side.
You smiled, leaning your shoulder into his. “Is this really it?” You asked skeptically. “You just sit here and drink around a bunch of drunk idiots?”
He laughed before he could stop himself. “I mean, yeah, that’s pretty much it,” he said, dipping his head to say in your ear. “Or we could dance. Or make out,” he smiled against your ear.
You blushed and he laughed again, kissing your temple.
Azriel wrapped an arm around your shoulders as Cassian and Rhys showed up, grinning at you, their eyebrows raised. Azriel fought the urge to roll his eyes. They had seen him laughing with you, kissing you, he knew. He had nearly forgotten where he was, why he was here with you. He loved them, but he wasn’t sure what they would say to you about him. They didn’t know about his arrangement with Claire, and he had been keeping details about his relationship with you as vague as possible.
“So you’re the one Az has been spending all his time with,” Cassian grinned.
You smiled sheepishly, leaning further into Azriel. “I guess.”
Azriel nodded to his friends. “This is Cassian and Rhysand. They’ve been my best friends since we were kids.”
He could tell you were intrigued by that. He still hadn’t told you anything about his childhood.
Before you could ask any questions, Claire showed up next to Azriel’s friends, her expression the very picture of friendship. It unsettled him so much that he held you closer to him, so you were practically on his lap.
“Hi Claire,” you smiled, and his heart sank. You really had no idea how Claire felt about you.
Claire smiled back. “Hey. I never expected to see you here.”
“I’m trying new things,” you said, smiling lightly at Azriel.
He couldn’t take it, having you so close to Claire, seeing that trust you had in him when you looked at him. He cleared his throat, standing up and offering you his hand. You took it, smiling politely at Claire and his friends as he led you through the house, out to the backyard.
“Is everything okay?” You asked, looking up at him curiously as he leaned his back against the side of the house.
“Yeah,” he said, unable to stop the smile that rose to his face as you gazed at him with your big doe eyes. He tugged you closer, wrapping his arms around your waist. “I just wanted you to myself for a minute.”
“Oh yeah?” you flushed, and before he could stop himself, he kissed your cheeks, feeling the heat against his lips before his lips met yours in a slow, sensual kiss.
He was still kissing you when he heard Cassian snickering close by. “Oh shit, he’s whipped.”
Azriel rolled his eyes as he pulled away from you, but kept his hold on your waist. “How am I whipped?”
Cassian’s eyes gleamed with mischief and Azriel’s heart started to pound. “Sneaking out here on your own. You’re usually content to stay on the couch to make out with your girl of the week.”
Your body tensed in his arms and Azriel groaned internally, glaring at Cassian, who smirked. “Oh, she didn’t know? My bad, Az.”
Azriel’s expression was enough to send Cassian back inside.
Your brow furrowed as you stepped back, out of his reach. “Girl of the week?”
He winced. “He’s being dramatic.”
You raised your eyebrows, glaring at him, crossing your arms over your chest.
It was kind of adorable, but Azriel reigned in that comment. He held up his hands in surrender. “Okay, look. I told you when we met that I go to parties and meet girls there. But things are different now,” he said, taking a step closer to you. And it was true. Things were different. You had been the one haunting his thoughts since that first date. He had barely looked at anyone else since.
After a moment, you sighed, and he knew you wouldn’t resist when he wrapped his arms back around you.
“Cassian’s an idiot,” he murmured, his focus back on your lips that he was dying to kiss again.
“So I’m not the girl of the week?” you said quietly, your eyes on his lips now.
He smiled. “We’ve been seeing each other for several weeks, haven’t we?”
You nodded, biting your lip, before you stood up on your tiptoes to press a quick kiss to his lips. Azriel was surprised by his own relief. “Are we going back inside?” you asked.
“Not if you don’t want to,” he said, wrapping his arms around your waist again.
Pursing your lips in thought, you said, “Mmm. Let’s go back in.”
“Yeah?” he said, surprised.
You smiled up at him, resting your chin on his chest. His heart melted. “I’m trying to be brave.”
He kissed your forehead, smiling faintly. “I’m proud of you, bookworm.”
You beamed, your whole face lighting up.
Azriel led you inside, his hand on the small of your back, trying to manage the swell of emotions in his chest. He didn’t have the time to process them right now.
The two of you mingled throughout the party for a few hours, and you even went so far as to dance with him for a bit, your body pressed against his, your hips swaying to the beat of the pounding music. He could hardly believe it, the way you let loose with him.
He stopped in the bathroom before the two of you left. He wasn’t gone for more than a few minutes, but when he returned, he spotted you near the kitchen, backing away from a guy who was clearly very drunk and very horny. Azriel saw red.
Before he could take a second to think, Azriel was upon the bastard, punching him in the jaw.
He heard you yelp. The asshole staggered back, swearing, his hand cradling his jaw. Azriel barely spared him a glance, his hands gently holding either side of your face, his gaze raking your body, searching for any sign that he had touched you.
Your eyes were wide, your breathing labored, but you seemed physically fine. “Are you okay?” he asked.
You nodded, your eyes still frantic.
He wrapped his arm around your shoulders as he led you outside. Claire caught his eye on the way out, hers shining with delight. He scowled at her.
When you made it outside, he hugged you to his chest. “I’m sorry.”
“For what?”
“I shouldn’t have left you alone.”
You snorted. “You were gone for a few minutes. It’s not your fault that men are gross.”
“Are you okay, really?” He asked, pulling back to look you in the eye.
“I’m okay,” you said quietly.
He held you close to him, gazing at you for another moment before you smiled faintly. “You really didn’t need to punch him, you know.”
He winced slightly, remembering the yelp you let out when he threw that punch. “Sorry.”
“Don’t be,” you said, rising on your tiptoes to kiss him.
Azriel held you until his heart rate slowed down, until his body was convinced that you were okay.
Later, after he had dropped you off at your apartment, Azriel stayed awake, tossing and turning, so many images from that night racing through his mind.
The way his heart constricted every time you smiled at him, the horror he felt at seeing Claire play nice, the terror and rage that flowed through his entire body when he saw that creep bothering you…
Azriel knew then, that he had real feelings for you. Shit.
---
“C’mon, baby, you’ve been studying for ages already,” Azriel murmured, standing behind you as you sat at your desk in your apartment, his arms draped around your chest, his lips trailing down your neck.
Your toes curled, heat running right through you. You wanted to give in. You really did. But…
You sighed. “I’m sorry, Az. I have this big exam on Tuesday. And finals are only a few weeks away.”
For some reason, that comment made his entire body stiffen. “Oh, yeah. Finals.”
You snorted. “Don’t tell me you forgot about finals.”
“No, I just… they’re soon.” His voice wavered a bit as he stood up fully. You twisted in your seat to look up at him. His brow was furrowed, his eyes swimming with anxiety.
“What’s wrong?” You asked, reaching up and cupping his cheek with your hand. “Do you need me to help you study?” He had never seemed to care about his grades before.
He leaned into your touch for a moment, shooting you a forced smile. “No, it’s okay. I’ll be fine. I should go, and let you study.” He stooped down to press a quick kiss to your lips. “I won’t distract you anymore today.”
Before you could even respond, he was out the door.
You turned back to your notes, but couldn’t digest any of the information. That was… weird.
Azriel and you had been dating for months now. Though neither of you had ever put a label on it, you both knew you were exclusive.
In the privacy of your own mind, you secretly loved that he acted so differently around you than he did out and about on campus. You felt like you got a different version of him that was saved especially for you. It made your heart swell, all the little things he did for you each day.
You were also willing to admit, to yourself only, that you were absolutely in love with him. You had known for weeks now, and had been debating whether or not you should tell him.
He had been the one that made you step out of your comfort zone, to try new things, to be brave.
So, soon. You would tell him soon.
---
Azriel had to get out of the deal. Now.
He remembered the exact moment that he realized he was in love with you. It was a random afternoon, the two of you were watching TV at his apartment. He was laying on the couch, you were laying on top of him, your legs intertwined with his, your head on his chest. He was absentmindedly running his fingers through your hair while you giggled about something that happened on the show.
And he had the thought. I want my whole life to look like this.
And he knew. He loved you.
This had scared him, obviously, on multiple levels. He had never loved anyone before, never knew what that looked like. Yet somehow, he knew without a doubt that it was true.
And then, of course, there was the deal he had made with the devil.
He had known early on that he would have to get out of the deal. He had just been putting it off, hoping that Claire’s insanity would die down throughout the semester.
But now his time was up.
He prayed to whoever might be listening that Claire would listen to reason. That she would call it off. He couldn’t bear the thought of hurting you. He wouldn’t do it.
Claire smirked as she opened the door. “I’ve been wondering when you would show up. It’s been a long time, Az,” she purred.
Azriel stalked into her apartment, barely sparing her a glance. “The deal’s off, Claire.”
She cocked her head to the side, amused. “Oh? Why is that?”
“Because it’s insane,” he growled. “You were insane for coming up with it, and I was insane for agreeing to it. I’m done.”
Slowly, her lips curled up into a lethal smile. “You fell for her.”
Azriel blinked.
Claire cackled. “Oh, this is rich. You actually fell for the bookworm? I never thought I’d see the day. No wonder you haven’t been crawling into my bed.”
He scowled. “The deal’s off,” he repeated in the tone he used to scare people away.
She really looked at him then, her eyes bearing into his. After a moment, she finally said, “Okay.”
He raised an eyebrow. “Okay? Just like that?”
Claire shrugged. “You were right. It was an insane plan. And it didn’t even work,” she said bitterly. “You suck at your job. She’ll still be on the top of the Dean’s list, even after all your lovey-dovey shit.”
A swell of pride ran through him at the thought of your name at the top of that list.
“Alright,” he said, his brow furrowed, trying to figure out if there was some kind of angle here. But, there didn’t seem to be one.
He left quickly, his heart and mind feeling lighter. The guilt of how the two of you started would always be there, he knew. But now when he looked into the future, it wasn’t a hazy blur of nothingness that he saw. It was you.
---
The week before finals, there were parties everywhere. So you heard.
You had gone to a few more with Az over the past few months. It still wasn’t exactly your thing, but you didn’t mind going, especially with Azriel being so attentive to you every time you did.
Azriel didn’t seem particularly interested in going to this one, but his friends had been complaining that they never saw him anymore, so he agreed to go. And you had agreed to go with him, if only to take a break from your near constant studying these days.
You followed him through the crowd, his hand clasping yours, as always. Drinks in hand, you made your way to the outskirts of a group of people who were dancing and you joined them, Azriel pulling you in close to him, moving against you.
A laugh burst from you, and Azriel grinned, leaning down to kiss you.
You were so happy, you thought. So happy in that moment with him. You knew people watched you, as they usually did when Azriel was like this with you. You didn’t care.
When he pulled back from the kiss, he gazed down at you, his eyes swimming with affection.
“I love you,” you said before you could stop it.
His eyes sobered, and he pulled you in even closer, so your bodies were flush together. He leaned his forehead against yours, and in a crowd of people, Azriel said, a soft smile on his face, “I love you, too.”
Your heart leaped and you grinned, threading your fingers in his hair and bringing his lips to yours.
Suddenly, the music stopped, and from the TV came a voice. Azriel’s voice.
Everyone turned to the sound, curiously, watching. The video was jumpy, filming the floor, like it was filmed from someone’s pocket.
Azriel tensed, his arms still around you. “Fuck,” he said. “We need to go.”
Utterly confused, you didn’t argue as he pulled you through the crowd. But you stopped dead in your tracks when you heard video Azriel say, “Sweetheart, you know I can fuck you anytime I want, right? That is not going to persuade me to help you.”
Your blood ran cold, shock jolting from your heart down to your toes. Azriel was tugging on your arm, but you didn’t budge as you heard Claire’s voice next.
Claire. He had been talking to Claire. What did he mean, that he could fuck her whenever he wanted? You hadn’t even known that they knew each other. When was this filmed?
“Baby, please, I’ll explain everything, but we need to go,” Azriel was saying, sounding frantic.
You wrenched your arm from his grasp, weaving through the still crowd, moving toward the TV. You heard him swear, calling your name behind you, but you kept moving.
They were saying something about a deal, about him owing her a favor. You couldn’t make sense of it, not until you heard video Azriel say, “Alright, so I just have to seduce the bookworm? Easy.”
Video Claire responded, “No, if I’m going to agree to any favor you could possibly want, you’re going to have to go further. You need to make her fall in love with you.”
It was then that you noticed Claire, next to the TV, her eyes locked on you, smirking.
You couldn’t breathe, your legs were going to give out --
It was all fake. All of it.
Azriel caught up to you then, picking you up, slinging you over his shoulder. You didn’t protest, the shock setting in. You had to get out of there, even if it was him that carried you out.
When he made it outside, you pounded on his back with your fists. “Put me down, you asshole!”
“Sorry,” Azriel said, wincing as he gently set you on your feet. “You looked like you were going to pass out.”
“Like you even care,” you spat, storming away from him.
“Of course I care. Please, just give me a minute to explain,” he pleaded, following you.
“Explain what?” You stopped abruptly, spinning around to face him. “That you played me for a fool? Made me fall in love with you as a sick joke? Well, congratulations, it worked,” you said, pouring every ounce of venom that you could muster into your voice. You turned back around and continued walking as tears started pricking your eyes. You refused to let him see you cry.
“It may have started out that way, but it’s not like that anymore. From the first date, I had feelings for you. I love you. You have to believe that,” he said, right on your heels.
You knew he could catch up with you easily if he wanted to. He was hanging back, trying to give you your space. That pissed you off even more. “How could I possibly believe that?”
“Because you feel it, I know you do,” he said, finally wrapping his fingers around your wrist.
You tugged your hand free, but stopped walking, needing to catch your breath. You faced him. “What was the point?” You asked quietly. “Why make the deal?”
It didn’t matter. But you had to know.
He sighed, running a hand through his hair. “Claire and I used to date. When you transferred, you pushed her off the top spot of the Dean’s list. She hated you for it. She said she would give me any favor I wanted if I made you fall for me… to distract you from school.”
You were so surprised that the tears you had been holding in started to fall. You angrily swatted them away.
Azriel continued, “I said no at first, but she was persistent, and…” he took a deep breath, darting his eyes away from you for a moment. They were shining with unshed tears. “I have no excuse. I agreed to it. I’m an asshole. But you made me want to be different.”
“Was any of it true?” You heard yourself saying, your voice breaking.
He lifted his hand, like he was about to reach for yours, then let it drop, thinking better of it. “It was all true. From our first date, you were breaking down my walls, making me smile, making me laugh.” He smiled sadly. “I fell for you. I love you,” he said, and now a lone tear did slide down his cheek. “I called it off with Claire ages ago. I told her I was out, and she agreed. I… I didn’t know she filmed it.”
You wanted to believe him, that he really did love you. But… “Even if you do love me, that doesn’t change what you did,” you said in a small voice.
Azriel sniffed, wiping the tears off his face. “I know. I am so, so sorry.”
Shaking your head, backing away from him, you choked out, “I don’t -- I can’t. I can’t do this right now.”
He took a step toward you, his eyes pleading. “Please. Please don’t go.”
Turning your back to him, you walked away, barely registering the pavement beneath your feet, the direction you were going.
You knew he had followed you home, not letting you walk alone at night. You watched his form retreat after you locked yourself inside your apartment with trembling hands.
Azriel called your name, but you kept walking.
You went to bed, not even bothering to change. Laying on your back, watching your ceiling fan spin around and around, you tried to identify all that you were feeling: shame, humiliation, sorrow. Fury.
Replaying all that had happened between you, all the times he was probably laughing at you with his friends behind his back about you. You felt nauseous.
How could he do this? How could he have played you for so long?
You woke up to several missed calls and texts from Azriel, all sent hours apart. It seemed that he didn’t get any sleep at all.
What the hell were you supposed to do now?
I am so sorry. I’m the worst person in the world. I know that.
I know what you’re thinking right now. I know that you’re going over it all in your head. But, it was real, baby. It was all real. I swear it was. I love you so much.
I’m hoping you’re getting some sleep. Can I see you today?
Groaning, you tossed your phone to the side, and took a long shower. By the time you got out, someone was knocking on your door.
You quickly dressed in some old pajamas and called through the door, “Go away, Az.”
“Well, at least you’re alive,” you heard him say. “Can I please come in? Two minutes?”
You threw the door open, furious. “No, you cannot come in. You humiliated me. You used me. You had your fun. What else could you possibly want?”
Azriel was standing on the threshold, his hands in his pockets nervously, his facial expression looked like you had just slapped him. “I want to apologize! I want to make things better, that’s what I want.”
Biting your lip to keep from crying, you said quietly, “Go away.”
His face fell. “I love you.”
Shaking your head, you said, “You don’t.”
He took a step forward, wedging his foot on the door jam so you couldn’t close it on him. “I do,” he said, his eyes pleading, baring into yours. “You know that I do. You know I’ve never let anybody else see the real me. Nobody but you.”
Tears spilled onto your cheeks then, and he wiped them away gently. Despite everything, you couldn’t back away. “It doesn’t matter,” you croaked. “You only went out with me so you could help her ruin my life.”
Azriel opened his mouth, as if to reply, but then shut it.
You laughed humorlessly. “See? Even you don’t have a comeback.”
His eyes softened, his rough fingers still absentmindedly stroking your cheeks. “Please,” he said again. “I’m so sorry.”
“It’s not enough,” you whispered, your heart breaking all over again as you looked up at him, at the pain in his eyes.
“How do I fix it?” He whispered back, tears sliding freely down his cheeks now.
“I don’t know,” you said, stepping back out of his grasp. “Please, Az. I just -- I need to be alone right now.”
He nodded, drawing his arm across his face to wipe the tears away. “Okay. Okay, I’ll umm -- I’ll see you later?”
You didn’t know how to answer that, didn’t know if you would see him again at all. He took a step back, into the hallway.
Especially knowing where that awful bet had originated, you refused to let Azriel and Claire get in your head for finals. You buckled down, spending entire days at the library studying, writing papers, finishing projects.
Without another word, you shut the door.
It was helpful, actually. You didn’t allow yourself to think about him, about all the memories you had that had become so tainted and confusing.
By the end of the semester, you had maintained all your A’s, passing every final with flying colors. And thus, secured the very top spot of the Dean’s list.
Azriel had been texting and calling every day. You left them all unanswered.
You hadn’t yet had time to think, to process through the hurt.
A new text chimed as you were packing up your car to head home for the summer.
Saw the list. Nicely done, bookworm. I know it doesn’t matter, but I really am proud of you. Looks like all that hard work paid off ❤️
Despite everything, there was a swell of emotion in your chest at his words. God, why did everything have to be so awful?
Later, you were hefting your last box into your trunk when you heard the distinct sound of a motorcycle slowing down behind you. Your heart raced. You couldn’t tell if you wanted to see him again or not.
Slowly, you turned around to see Azriel sliding off the bike, his helmet tucked under his arm. “Hey, beautiful,” he said, somewhat tentatively.
“Hi,” you said softly.
He nodded to your car, his expression grave. “You’re leaving?”
“Back home for the summer,” you said, unable to take your eyes off him. He looked tired. And sad.
A moment passed silently, the two of you just looking at each other, pain hanging in the air between you.
“I miss you,” he said quietly.
You sighed. Willed yourself to be brave. “I miss you, too,” you admitted.
Something like hope gleamed in his eyes. “I love you,” he murmured.
“I --” you started, and couldn’t bear it. “I need time.”
He looked crestfallen, like you had just punched him in the gut, but he nodded. “The summer?”
You swallowed. “Okay,” you said. “Okay. I get the summer, and I’ll find you in the fall. We’ll talk then.”
“Thank you,” he said, quietly. “Thank you for… for that. For talking to me now,” he winced. “I know I don’t deserve it.”
“No, you don’t,” you said, but there was no malice in it. You were too tired. “I get the summer, Az. Don’t contact me until school starts.”
He looked like he wanted to argue, but agreed. “Okay. I’ll see you in September,” he said, backing up towards his bike. “Have a good summer, bookworm,” he added with the slightest of smiles, before he slid on his helmet and drove away.
---
You spent most of the summer moping around, reading books, and trying to sort through everything that happened, all the feelings you had.
For three months, you sifted through every moment that Azriel and you had shared together, picking them apart, deciphering every movement.
It may have been slightly unhealthy.
You believed that what you and Azriel had was real. You believed that he did love you. And you couldn’t deny that you loved him. That maybe you always would.
Was it worth it to deny yourself the person who had made you so happy? Who had taught you new things, who had helped you out of your comfort zone?
As September grew closer, you still weren’t sure.
---
Azriel got more and more anxious as the summer came to a close. It had been torture to not contact you at all, but he knew he was in no position to be asking you for anything, so he did as you asked.
The hurt on your face those months ago was still a clear image in his mind that haunted his nightmares. He would never forgive himself for hurting you.
Yet, he couldn’t stop imagining what would happen when he saw you again. Would you give him another chance? You would have to be a saint to even contemplate that. But then again, you were the best person he had ever known. If anyone would be able to forgive, it would be you.
Scowling, he stomped that shred of hope down. He couldn’t go into this having any expectations.
Soon, he would know.
---
It was bittersweet coming back to school. Academia was where you thrived. You felt right at home in the library, stacks of papers all around you.
And you used to feel at home with Azriel.
You sighed at the thought. The first day of classes was tomorrow. You had told Azriel not to contact you until school started back up again, and knowing him, he would take that seriously.
Deep down, you knew what you wanted to do. It terrified you, though.
Sure enough, the next morning, you had a text from him:
Hey, bookworm. Hope your first day of classes goes well.
The slightest smile spread across your lips. You knew he was probably dying to ask when he could see you, but was trying to keep it light. Leave the ball in your court.
For the first time since everything, you texted him back.
Thanks, Az. Yours, too.
He opened it immediately. After a moment, you willed yourself to send another:
Wanna meet up at the tennis courts tonight?
His reply came at lightning speed:
7?
Reigning in your smile, you replied:
7.
You couldn’t remember ever being this nervous as you walked to the tennis courts. There were a few people playing, so you sat underneath a tree nearby, willing your legs to stop shaking.
Right on time, a familiar motorcycle turned into the parking lot. He spotted you immediately, striding over to you with unsure steps.
“Hey, beautiful,” he said quietly.
You looked up at him, your heart racing at the familiarity you felt. “Hi,” you said, and after the briefest hesitation, you patted the grass next to you. You weren’t sure you would be able to stand.
Immediately, he plopped down across from you, his knees only inches from yours as he faced you.
His eyes were locked on yours. “How was your summer?” he said, his voice cracking slightly.
“Okay,” you said. “How was yours?”
“Okay,” he said quietly.
You took a deep breath, steeling yourself. “Okay, here’s the thing. I did a lot of thinking. A lot of thinking. And I do love you, Az.”
You paused, not sure how to word what you were feeling.
“But?” Azriel said, his voice dripping with trepidation, his eyes guarded.
“But it’s going to take some time before I can trust you again.”
Azriel swallowed, his eyes never wavering from yours.
He seemed like he was waiting for you to continue before he said anything, so you added, quietly, “I am willing to try, though. To give us another chance.”
The tautness in his body released, relief flooding his features. “Really?” he croaked, tears swimming in his eyes.
You could only nod before he launched towards you, knocking you on your back, before he threaded his fingers through your hair, kissing you deeply.
You laughed, as his other hand came up to cup your face. “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry, I swear I will spend the rest of my life trying to make it up to you,” he said against your lips.
Wrapping your arms around him, you sighed into his kiss. “I know, Az. I know.”
“I love you,” he murmured, moving to kiss down your neck.
“I love you, too.”
“I missed you so much,” he groaned before kissing your lips again.
You giggled. “I missed you, too.”
He finally stopped kissing you, settling his elbows on either side of your head, leaning his forehead against yours. “Thank you. For giving me another chance.”
Smiling, you kissed him swiftly on the lips. “Don’t mess it up.”
“I won’t. I swear I won’t.”
The two of you spent the rest of the afternoon in each other’s arms, going over your respective summers.
Eventually, Azriel propped himself on an elbow, gazing at you with all the love in the world.
“What?” you asked.
He grinned. “You wanna go mini golfing, bookworm?”
You couldn’t help but return his smile. “Only if I can help you again.”
Azriel leaned down to gently kiss your forehead. “It’s a deal.”
@thalia-as-blog @saltedcoffeescotch
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Chapter 1: Second to You
My Rival Series
Summary: “I hate Wanda Maximoff. I hate her face and the way she hides her freckles. I hate her smile and how perfect she laughs. I hate how smart she is and how she knows everything. I hate her.” Y/n complained.
But how could she hate the girl that always took #1 in everything? How could she hate the girl that captivated her mind 24/7? How could she hate the girl she would willingly be #2 for?
Or the time where Y/n Y/l/n and Wanda Maximoff were academic rivals that fell for each other.
A/n: Gif credits to @aftertheglitterfades
Warnings: Rivals to Lovers, Obvious Feelings, Stubborn Reader, Cursing
Word Count: 4.1k
Masterlist
Series Masterlist
Chapter 1 | Chapter 2 | Chapter 3 | Chapter 4 |
One Month - Spring Semester
“Please be a hundred - please be a hundred.” The brown eyed girl silently pleaded under her breath. Her hands were clenched together, easily covering her mouth. She couldn’t, actually wouldn’t, give her the satisfaction of seeing her nervous.
With her dark brown hair, quick green eyes, and pretentious smile, Wanda Maximoff already had a lot going for her, something Y/n could easily list out. ‘So god forbid, please humble her for one moment’ Y/n thought to herself.
Trying her best to not seem so obsessed, Y/n carefully studied Wanda’s reaction. While the rest of the class seemed upset over their grades, seeing Wanda’s smile among the crowd of frowns ticked something inside Y/n. ‘Oh please, not another 100.’ But there went that fucking cocky smile, one that brought Wanda’s dimples out, and Y/n knew the answer.
Looking back at Professor Hathaway, the older woman gently smiled at Y/n as she handed her test backwards, careful to not expose her grade. Once she passed, Y/n slowly flipped it over, eyes squinted as if it would help lessen the blow.
‘Oh god - a 99.’ Y/n tried to steel herself from any reaction. She knew Wanda would be looking at her like a hawk. Taking a peak past the paper, Y/n could easily spot those green eyes anywhere in a crowd. And just as Y/n expected, Wanda was looking.
“Okay class, this week's test was better. We currently have a class average of 65. There were two outliers that have caused the average to bump up. For those that need help for next week, please feel free to reach out to see where we can improve. No homework due but please try to review the remarks I’ve made.”
Everyone was quick to start packing up, especially those that barely scored a passing D. But for Y/n, she packed quickly to avoid Wanda. Hearing Wanda talk about another perfect score would only rile her up and considering she still had to study for the managerial accounting test, talking to Wanda was the last thing she wanted.
But Y/n never got what she wanted. When a classmate accidentally bumped into her backpack, causing the contents to spill, Y/n couldn’t help me internally curse at her luck. “I’m really sorry about that Y/n!”
Y/n didn’t dare focus on the feeling of Wanda getting closer, she didn’t even need to see to know she was only a meter away. “It’s okay Katie. Just be careful next time.” The blonde meekly smiled as she walked off to her next lecture, leaving Y/n behind to pick her stuff up.
Just as the final book was stuffed into her bag, Y/n rose up from the ground, ready to grab her test, but Wanda was quicker. Holding back her distaste, Y/n watched as Wanda’s smug smile grew seeing the 99 plastered right at the corner.
“Better luck next time, Y/l/n,” Wanda proudly stated as she held up the perfect grade written on her test. Holding back her profanities, Y/n snatched her test and shoved it at the bottom of her backpack. “And messing up a simple year for Renoir’s paintings, my my, this is easy at this point.”
Y/n slung her backpack and started to walk out of the lecture hall. Usually, no response and the sight of someone leaving would give a normal person the idea that they don’t want to talk. But Wanda wasn’t normal by any means.
She walked at a similar fast pace beside Y/n, enjoying the silent treatment she was receiving. “Not gonna talk? Ya know, I could help you study in case you need it.”
Y/n scoffed as they exited the humanities building. ‘The nerve.’ Y/n thought.
It was a nice spring at Evergreen University. The weather was at a perfect 75 degrees. People were out on the lawn, enjoying themselves, hanging out with friends, having picnics, overall having a great time. But none of that was something Y/n hardly got to experience nowadays.
For the majority of the first month of the spring semester, Y/n had either been stuck at her dorm, the library, or some other student’s dorm, helping them study. The luxury of having fun was something Y/n could hardly afford. Not when Wanda Maximoff was a constant reminder of your failure to beat her.
“99 is still good, Maximoff, in case you forgot.” They passed by a couple of people that knew Wanda, but that didn’t deter the brunette at all. She waved at them with her perfect smile which irritated Y/n even more.
“She speaks! Didn’t know you were settling for second place now. You must’ve lost your confidence. Afraid you can’t beat me?” Y/n grumbled something that Wanda couldn’t hear.
With Y/n’s dorm hall getting closer, the brown eyed girl quickened her pace, hoping that Wanda would stop. “More like I don’t want to humble you. Princess might get hurt if I actually try my best.”
Wanda feigned hurt, dramatically placing a hand on her chest. “Going for the ego jab? What will I ever do?” Wanda laughed, a laugh that came from her chest, one that was wholehearted, and god did Y/n hate it. “Takes more than that to hurt me.”
Stopping right before the entrance, Y/n halted infront of Wanda, the two almost colliding.
“Oh yeah? Then-”
“Y/n, can you help me with accounting?” Y/n turned around to her savior. It was one of her classmates from her managerial class. Her name was Holly.
“Sure thing.” Unbeknownst to Y/n, Wanda rolled her eyes at the pathetic excuse. Holly was a smart girl, one that hardly needed to study. This was all just a lame excuse to hang out with Y/n, something Wanda easily saw through.
Adjusting her backpack, Y/n walked towards Holly, holding the door open. Looking back at Wanda with a frown, Y/n remarked, “Next time, I won’t go easy.”
Midway - Spring Semester
“Are you going to come with me to the party?” It was a Saturday night at Evergreen University. Parties were a typical thing especially since the campus had a large selection of greek life.
However, today was not a typical Saturday. Midterms were finally over and the majority of campus was out for the night, trying to enjoy a little stress reliever.
“Can’t Natty. I gotta study.” Y/n said hunched over a book. While Y/n did receive well above passing grades, none of them could compete with Wanda’s. It’s like no matter how much Y/n studied, there was always one small detail that would prevent her from being perfect.
“You’re always studying. Can’t you give me at least one night away from all of this.” Natasha looked around the room, Y/n’s side was filled to the brim with various books, journals, and papers. It was an academic mess.
“You know I can’t.” Natasha sighed at Y/n’s response. She walked towards her bed, giving Y/n a tight hug. Having been roommates since freshman year, Natasha knew how Y/n was when it came to her academics.
“At least I have senior year to try.” Y/n laughed, knowing that she’d never really go to a party. She had nothing against them, but the idea of pretending like you’re having fun was exhausting for her.
“Text or call me if you need me to pick you up, okay? I’ll have my ringer on the highest volume.” Natasha grabbed her phone and keys, blowing a fake kiss to Y/n.
“Thanks love. Stay up till 1:00 am for me? If I don’t text you by then, go to sleep. I’ll have a ride.” Y/n gave a thumbs up as Natasha left.
Looking back at the time, it was only 10:00 pm. The dorms hardly muffled the loud music playing on the floor above. And knowing the RA on the floor, they’d simply dismiss it until 2:00 am.
Shaking her head, Y/n grabbed the nearest bag and stuffed the essentials she needed. A night trip to the library wasn’t going to hurt.
“Accounting can literally go fuck themselves,” Y/n uttered. She was currently tucked away in a far corner on the fourth level of the library. This place hardly had any students around and with midterms being over, not a single soul was in the library at this time, well besides Y/n.
“I need a break.” Pushing the chair back, Y/n stretched her legs and arms out, releasing out a weird primal groan in the process. Tapping her phone screen, it was a quarter past twelve. Her body was stiff and desperately needed a walk.
“How the hell am I so stiff?” Y/n cracked her neck, hands, and knuckles, a very bad habit she developed at a young age.
Grabbing her wallet, Y/n walked away from her spot and traversed through the long aisles of books. She eyed a couple of interesting subjects on the way to the vending machine, saving them in her head the next time she needed a new book to read.
It didn’t take long before she spotted the bright fluorescent machine. Eying the choices, there wasn’t much. To play it safe, she got a Pepsi and quickly started to drink it.
‘I really need to start drinking more water.’ The thoughts on being healthy always came around this time, among other things. So to distract herself more, Y/n walked around the floor, hoping to do some exploring.
She was hardly a couple of meters away when Y/n saw her. Asleep on top of her books and notes, mouth slightly parted, and slightly shivering was Wanda Maximoff. The sight caused Y/n’s breathing to hitch. The grip on the bottle tightened, feeling already irritated and Wanda hadn’t even said a word.
Looking around for anyone nearby, Y/n grumbled knowing that no one else would be studying on a weekend this late at night, but of course the only two people on the campus that would be are herself and Wanda.
Y/n wanted to leave, everything from her mind and body told her to walk away and act like you didn’t see her. But how could Y/n ignore the way Wanda’s body shivered from being under the a/c? How could she ignore the way her lips twitched from reacting to a dream? How could Y/n ever ignore her?
Betraying all logic, Y/n walked to Wanda’s table. Although she wanted to wake her up, which would’ve been the nice thing to do, the large part of Y/n didn’t want Wanda to know she could be kind to her.
They’ve been at this stupid ‘race’ or ‘competition’ since freshman year ever since they took the intro to biology together. A lot of the people in the class had struggled, especially those that were not pursuing a STEM major. So when the professor made a light comment that Wanda was always first place in the class and Y/n was second, something inside them changed.
Maybe it was the way Y/n noticed how much Wanda thrived under praise or how she loved answering the professor’s questions. None of the characteristics really bothered Y/n at all and she certainly didn’t care to be second. But then more exams came and Wanda was always first and Y/n was always second.
Next came the light taunting from her friends, saying Wanda has never been beaten academically that it started to rub you the wrong way. And then came the fateful day, where Wanda had come to Y/n after class ended and asked, “Do you want help with biology?”
The question was supposed to be harmless, but it was the fact that Y/n was around with her friends who then started to chuckle and taunt the question. It felt embarrassing especially since she didn’t even suck at the subject.
So with a sore ego and hurt pride, Y/n mumbled a no and walked away as her friends howled even more. Ever since then, the two have been at it. And by the looks of it, it was not going to stop.
‘Just walk away and let her deal with it.’ The thoughts in her head were convincing. Wanda would eventually wake up and be fine. She would get up, go back to her dorm, and probably act like nothing happened.
Turning back around, Y/n almost walked away but her heart couldn’t. Sleeping alone in this lonely part of the library was not something Y/n wanted for Wanda. Looking around the table, Y/n spotted Wanda’s phone past all the humanities notes.
Grabbing it, Y/n was surprised to find that there was no passcode. ‘Maximoff, you really need to change that.’
Looking through her contacts, Y/n finally was able to find Pietro. Sending a quick ‘pick me up from the fourth floor of the library’ felt harmless. Especially since it sounded like something she would say.
Placing the phone back in its original spot, Y/n felt satisfied enough to walk away. But Wanda just had to whimper in her sleep, still shivering from the cold.
Y/n would never admit it outloud but she would have cursed Evergreen University for making their libraries so cold. Taking off her flannel, Y/n shook her head as she placed it on top of Wanda. She had plenty more in the closet, so losing one was not going to hurt.
‘I fucking hate her.’ Y/n convinced herself as she finally walked away from Wanda. The brown eyed girl got back to her table. It was useless to continue to study. Wanda was all she could think about right now.
Sighing, Y/n grabbed her phone. It was getting close to 12:30 and there was still no text from Natasha. Packing her stuff up, Y/n walked out the library at a slow place. Within a block away from the library, Pietro had jogged past Y/n, not even recognizing the girl with how dim the streetlights were.
No one else witnessed this, and once again Y/n would never admit it, but she did smile knowing Wanda was going to be okay.
Pietro could hardly make his way through the library. If we’re being honest, he kind of forgot that this library was 24/7. After scrounging through the fourth floor, he finally found Wanda asleep at her study table.
Muttering curses under his breath, he walked to her, ignoring the flannel that covered her. ‘I didn't even take that long.’ He thought to himself. Pietro had only taken around 10-15 minutes to get to her. How did she manage to fall asleep?
“Sestra.” Wanda woke up from the constant tugging on her shoulder. Grumbling a few incoherent words, she sat up, barely awake. Yawning into her hand, Pietro shook his head at the sight of Wanda. “You fell asleep studying, again?”
Wanda shrugged her shoulders, too tired to even respond. “Let's get you back to your dorm.”
As Pietro helped Wanda pack her stuff up, the brunette finally noticed the flannel on her shoulders. She snaked her arms through it, enjoying the warmth and comfort it provided.
Too tired to think, Wanda followed Pietro out of the library and to her dorm hall. It didn’t take long for them to arrive. Thankfully, Wanda didn’t have a roommate, perks of having rich parents.
Pietro had muttered a goodbye as he dropped Wanda’s bag near her desk. He flipped the lights off and closed the door.
Wanda easily slipped under the covers, flannel still on. The cologne was distinct, something her body already knew who it belonged to. But having been too tired to think, Wanda simply thought it was Pietro’s flannel.
But had she actually paid attention, she would’ve noticed the only person using this cologne was Y/n. Had she been paying attention, she would’ve noticed how much her body enjoyed having the flannel on. Had she been paying any attention, she would have noticed that the flannel was slightly too small to fit on Pietro.
And if Wanda had a bit more energy, she would have noticed that her subconscious didn’t fight the feeling of Y/n.
Almost a week has gone by since the library situation. Y/n was certain that Wanda had figured out her stunt. I mean the flannel had her initials written on the underside of the tag. But when Wanda walked into class, flannel surprisingly on, it shocked Y/n.
‘Does she seriously not know?’ During the whole lecture, Y/n could not focus. All her undivided attention was on Wanda Maximoff. The way the flannel hung off her shoulders or the way she would purposely cover her hands with the sleeves.
Every single detail was not left unnoticed. And as class ended, Wanda came over with her usual smug self. She made a comment or two, but Y/n hadn’t heard a single thing. Not when her flannel was still being worn by Wanda Maximoff.
And by the looks of it, Wanda didn’t know. It literally took Natasha shoving Y/n for the brown eyed girl to even respond. “See ya, Maximoff.”
Y/n had panicked and blanked hard. She left in such a hurry that even Wanda was confused.
“What’s up with her?” Wanda asked Natasha, but even she didn’t know.
“Okay, this has been like the 10th time you’ve looked at her in this past conversation. What’s up with you?” If Y/n could, she would leave the country at the moment. Feeling so embarrassed, Y/n thought about denying Natasha’s comment, but god she was being so obvious about it.
“I-,” Y/n sighed with her head in her hands. “I did something nice to someone I usually don’t do anything for.”
Natasha hummed as she ate her banana. She carefully looked back and noticed Wanda talking with some of her friends out on the lawn. They were too far away to even notice the pair, but it didn’t hurt to be careful.
“So you were nice to Maximoff? What’s the big deal?” It irritated Y/n that Natasha could be so nonchalant about everything. Couldn’t she clearly see why it was a big deal?
“I guess…” Y/n looked over at Wanda once more. Her smile was radiant even if she was a little far away. And the way her body tilts back every time she laughs, Y/n could have sworn that she could hear it from her spot. Or maybe it was the way her mind remembered everything about Wanda.
“It just made me think what if we were actually friends rather than…this.” Natasha could easily see this was a big deal to Y/n. However, their whole situation was rather odd. The banter and competition was just a children's game to her. No harm really came out of it.
“Well I think there’s still time to make up. Why don’t you go over there and just try to talk to her?” Y/n scoffed at Natasha’s absurdity.
“Yeah - over my dead body.”
“We’re partners.” Y/n wasn’t dead but it certainly almost felt like she was as she choked on Wanda’s comment. Quickly gaining the attention of other classmates, Y/n waved them off and regained her composure. She wiped the water from her lips and stared at the piece of paper that Wanda shoved in her face.
Team 7 - Y/n Y/l/n and Wanda Maximoff
“I told the professor that you and I could easily do this project alone, but he wasn’t having it. Apparently we need to improve our teamwork skills.” Y/n looked up and easily saw how displeased Wanda was. Using all her acting skills, Y/n did the same.
Before Y/n could say anything, Wanda commented, “Just come over to my dorm after math club. It’s at Bourbon Hall. Dorm 321.” And just like that, Y/n easily forgot all about her kindness as Wanda walked away.
The day was almost over. All Y/n had to do was enjoy another meeting at math club, be civil with Wanda, and then go to sleep. Although she didn’t necessarily want to do it in that order, duty called.
Y/n was about to enter the room for math club until Lily stumbled in front of her with urgent eyes. “Hey Y/n, Dean Holloway wants to see you.”
“Do you know why?” The Dean never had random meetings with students. Generally, students would pop up to him with issues. Not the other way around.
Lily shook her head no with a small frown. “Sorry, he didn’t say.” Looking over the math club, Y/n could see that Wanda had already arrived. There was never an instance where Y/n wasn’t at a meeting, but knowing Wanda, she could handle it like a pro.
“Okay, can you tell Wanda that I’ll be late and to start off without me?” Y/n adjusted her backpack.
“Sure thing, I’ll let her know.” Y/n gave Lily a small smile before walking away.
Their banter was supposed to be a children's game, simple, harmless. Nothing was supposed to come out of it. But the look in Y/n’s eyes told a different story. Her thoughts flooded with insecurities as the conversation she had with the Dean replayed.
“Thank you for coming at such short notice Y/n. I wanted to see you before your current meeting with math club.”
Y/n hadn’t gone back to attend math club. It meant seeing Wanda, the very last person she wanted to see at all. She knew that the brunette would already be pissed at her being late, but it was better to avoid that conversation entirely.
“I’m going to cut to the chase since you’re a very busy student. By the board, new requirements have been added to your scholarship effective immediately.”
“What are they?” There was no letter or notice coming from the school about her scholarship so this must have been a very recent decision. The Dean was unable to look Y/n in the eye as he recalled the meeting. He looked stiff and strained, something that was easy to notice.
“For the upcoming math club state competition, the school is requiring that you and your group must achieve first place. There is no tolerance for anything less than that.”
Y/n could remember the silence being deafening. She didn’t know what to say. The whole reason she was even at Evergreen University was due to her full ride. And for the board to randomly put that on the line felt so targeted.
Y/n tried to beg for an explanation as to why the board decided this. Wasn’t she a great enough student? Regardless, Dean Holloway was useless. He couldn’t give her a single reason as to why they decided to implement this. Essentially making Y/n deal with it herself.
For a minute, Y/n allowed herself to dream about first place. It felt plausible, but as her phone buzzed in her bed, reality came back. Right on the screen it said Wanda Maximoff. Not wanting to speak, Y/n let the phone ring until it hit voicemail. Before she could have her moment of peace, a harsh set of knocks were at her door.
Figuring it was Natasha forgetting her key again, Y/n slowly got up. “Coming - coming.” Not bothering to check the peephole, Y/n opened the door, her eyes landed on her.
The girl who knew every answer to every question. The girl who hasn’t left Y/n’s mind since freshman year. The girl who was the reason she was second.
“Not going to the meeting is one thing, but ditching our plans is another.” Wanda passed Y/n up, allowing herself to enter without permission. She sat down at Y/n’s desk, immediately spouting out ideas about their project.
But as Y/n stared at Wanda, she couldn’t help but think, ‘You’re the reason I will never be first.’
And that made it real. It was no longer a children’s game. This was a competition. And Wanda Maximoff was going to have to lose.
Chapter 2
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