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deadsetobsessions · 11 months ago

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There’s a child wandering the streets of Crime Alley. Unfortunately, this is nothing new for the area, riddled with crime and homelessness as it is. However, Red Hood and Nightwing are vigilantes and helping lost looking children is firmly in their job description. Plus, Crime Alley is Red Hood’s. He protects what’s his. With a single shared look, the brothers swung down to the child clad in just a white dress and some thin flats completely unsuitable for Gotham’s worsening weather. Hell it’s be unsuitable for the general poor weather.

“Hey, kiddo.”

The girl’s head swung to lock gazes with the duo, eyes blinking blue- and green? Red Hood allowed his brother- he worked so hard to beat down the pit madness in order for Nightwing to even remain near- to take the lead.

“Oh. There you are.” She said, turning to face them fully. The kid’s face filled with relief.

Nightwing blinked.

“You were looking for us?” His soft voice saved for children firmed into something more serious, more concerned.

“Mmhm. I was looking for Red Hood, but you’re a good bonus.”

“And why were you looking for me, kid?” Red Hood interjects. He knows Dickolas is clocking the same things he is: the kid’s white whispy hair, pale face, and… Lazarus green eyes? It’s more solid now, that she’s looking at Jason.

Dick straightened, eyes going heavy as he looks at this wisp of a girl. He’s fiercely protective of Jason and they’re both equally wary of the League of Assassins. Still, the two of them couldn’t help but let their guard down a bit because this was still a child they’re talking to.

“Because… um. Did you know you’ve died?”

Hood stiffened, hand going towards his guns. Granted, they’re rubber bullets, but the kid clocks that immediately. She threw her hands up in the universal gesture of “I’m unarmed and mean no harm.”

“I- well, to put it frankly, you kind of… stink?”

“What.”

“Ugh, I’m totally messing this up!”

“Why don’t you start again?” Dick said, shifting into a subtler fighting stance. He kept his voice light, but Jason saw the way his hands inched towards the scrims sticks. Distantly, Jason thought it was hilarious that this tiny kid could evoke that kind of response. Looking into Lazarus green eyes though, he couldn’t find the humor anywhere. The worst thing, though, is that the pit quieted. The rage the bubbled incessantly underneath his skin calmed. Jason did not like feeling bereft of the rage, not when he didn’t know why it was gone. He had just gained control of it, minimally, and to have that control be unnecessary left the vigilantes off kilter.

“Right, okay, sorry. Um, did you, uh, die and wake up surrounded by glowing green stuff?”

Before Jason could reply ‘yes, and why the hell do you know that?’, the kid continued with, “Because me too!”

She did jazz hands as Jason’s and Dick’s brains short circuited. Jason thought he even heard a little “yay!”

“What.” Jason sputtered out. His stomach and heart clenched as he thought about how young the kid looked. Fuck.

“Yeah. So, anyways-”

“Don’t speed past that like you didn’t say what you just said!” Dick interrupted, hand tugging at his hair in distress. His body language slipped from battle ready to extremely distressed. “You died?”

“You were- you were dipped in the Lazarus pits?!” Jason felt the need to address that specific point.

“I mean, it’s not that important? The important thing is- wait, what’s a Lazarus pit?”

Jason froze again. She didn’t know what they were?

“It’s… the glowing green stuff.” Dick answered her.

“Oh. Is that what you were dipped in?” She tilted her head at Jason. He nodded, wariness climbing. “Oh. Well, I mean, that’s not we call it. But the stuff you were dipped in, it’s rank. Contaminated.”

Jason thinks back to the burning, drowning green. The agony he felt as it slipped into his mouth and nose and his very being.

“It was bubbling.” He said. The girl grimaced. Jason had no idea why he was being so honest with this kid.

“Gross. Anyways, I can, like, help you with that?”

“With what?” Dick asked, eyes darting from the girl to Jason.

The girl groaned. “Okay, so I guess you guys are kind of new. Uh, the contaminated green stuff,” she points at Jason’s chest. “That’s making you angry, right? Leaving you in the backseat of your head as your body breaks whatever got you angry to begin with and you have no control over it?”

“…The pit madness.” Jason mumbled, feeling numb. “Yeah.”

“…Right. I can help you clear that out,” she pauses, fidgeting. “If… If you help me talk to Batman? It’s kind of… urgent.”

“Batman?”

“Why?”

“Uh. There’s kind of… a whole mad scientist thing going on and like… experimentation and dissections… you know?” The kid waved her arms around, distressed.

Dick and Jason unfortunately did know.

“Cave?” Jason grumbled.

“Cave.”

“Okay, we’ll bring you to the cave. Then you tell us everything.”

“Really?”

She looked up at them hopefully, and Jason could see the moment Dickolas melted. Not that Jason could say anything, since he was already taking off his jacket and bundling the kid in it.

“Um.”

“Who the hell let you walk around Gotham like that?” He scowled down at her, not that she could see it with the red helmet in the way. Dick looked at him carefully, eyes roving over the oddly relaxed state his little wing was in.

The kid shrugged. Jason sighs.

“What’s your name?” Dick asked. Scooping her up, the blue and black clad raised his free arm to grapple away. Jason follows him, heading towards the motorcycles they’ve got parked nearby.

“Dani. With an I.”

“Nice to meet you, Dani. I’m Nightwing. This is my… this is Red Hood.”

“Okay. Cool.”

#danny phantom #danielle phantom #danielle fenton #red hood #jason Todd #dick grayson #nightwing #dani going: you stink but I can help with that #dani trying to save her siblings from the GIW by bribing/blackmailing the vats #like they wouldn’t just take a look at this literal child and jump a cliff to help #dani: I need help #also dani: let me insult a crime lord #the plan worked though #this has been sitting in my drafts for too long #dani is both traumatized and a sassy little shit #dani ‘haven’t learned social cues’ Fenton #to be fair it’s not like vlad cared for social niceties #vlad the creep #dani dresses like she wants to get mugged on purpose

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star-girl69 · 5 months ago

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After Midnight

Caroline (KK) Harvey x Fem!Reader

—-

synopsis: flirting with the star hockey player at the frat party isn’t what you would normally do, but it’s after midnight and something about the lights is making everything a little hazy.

feel free to send requests!!! 🫶🫶

a/n: GUYS PLEASE. PLEASE IGNORE THIS. i’m sorry i’ve betrayed all my morals… but i cant sit idly by while my fellow kk lovers suffer… i hope you all enjoy!!

After Midnight - Chappell Roan

warnings: not proofread!!!, ALCOHOL!!! we are in a FRAT people!!, some swearing ofc, super brief barely there mentions of violence and such, kk is taller than reader by like an inch suck it idc i do what i want, super brief mention of y/n having hair (length unspecified), idk like a bit of kissing and some somewhat suggestive thoughts… y/n is a freak 💔, i’ve never flirted with anyone before how do you do this, so probs inaccurate, i don’t know anything about hockey just prefacing this, i also don’t know how college works rip, as chappell roan said: “i love a little drama, let’s start a bar fight, cause everything good happens after midnight”

—-

“Shit, babe, you look fuckin’ hot.”

This entire night is almost painful for you. Stepping out of your comfort zone on any level is always an adjustment, but trading your early nights in with homework and Netflix for a sexy dress showing everything in all the right and wrong places- is especially hard.

You almost cringe touching the velvet fabric of your revealing dark red shirt, staring at someone in the mirror you don’t even recognize.

“Jackie,” you mumble to your best friend and roommate, “I think it’s.. too much.”

Jackie tilts her head to the side, short dirty blonde hair swaying with the movement. She’s only humoring you, you can tell. “Nope. Perfect.”

You look at the pictures stuck in the slats of the mirror. Pictures of you, Jackie, and the other girl in your trio, Tyla, faces pressed together in bright smiles from various adventures from your freshman year at college.

It was such a relief when Jackie was the sweetest girl and an amazing person to share a dorm with, but when she brought along her best friend Tyla from a few doors down- the three of you fell into a quick and beautiful friendship, like the ones in the movies.

Jackie and Tyla were definitely more on the party girl side than the study girl side, but that was what was so great about your friendship. You reminded them that they did in fact have homework, and they pushed you to do things like this every once in a while.

This was the first time you had ever suggested it. Midterms were over- it would be wrong to not celebrate. To breathe in the few seconds you had left as a freshman, before it all got turned up again for sophomore year.

“Okay,” Jackie breathes, clasping her hands in front of her chest. “Take a deep breath, babe. The fit is a lot, yes, but it’s gorgeous. I mean, damn, where have you been hiding that ass?”

You bite your lip, eyes tearing away from the pictures, meeting Jackie’s eyes in the reflection.

“My ass does look really good,” you concede.

“Hell yeah it does!” Jackie shouts, smiling brightly. “Don’t be nervous, okay? It’s just some random frat party. We can go sit outside if it gets too much.”

It’s break. It’s Friday night. You look good, however uncomfortable you are.

“Fuck,” you mumble. “Yeah. Yeah, I’m good.”

“You’re good?”

“I’m just gonna do a few shots when we get there.”

“That’s my girl.”

Jackie thinks for a moment. “Besides, I think it’s a party to celebrate the girls hockey team winning a game, or something like that. The attention is gonna be far away from you. But…”

She trails off, picking at a piece of thread hanging from her comforter.

“What?” You ask, heart jumping to your throat in fear.

“Dylan might be there,” she shrugs.

Ugh.

Dylan.

Dylan wasn’t even that big of a problem, just a boy you had overzealously dated right when you got to college, when you were adjusting and still kind of lonely, only to find out his obsessive, stalker-ish personality was literal hell to be in a relationship with.

After maybe a week of constant love-bombing and clinginess, you broke up with him- and he tried for literal months to get your attention before he finally seemed to give up.

Once in a while, you’d see him at these parties, and he’d stare at you in a way that was probably supposed to be sexy, but was only weird and uncomfortable.

“Who gives a fuck about him?” You ask, your own surprise reflected in Jackie’s face.

“Damn, girl. Yeah, you’re fuckin’ right. Who gives a fuck about his sad ass?”

“I don’t,” you scoff, refusing to let him ruin your night.

The bathroom door slams open suddenly, revealing Tyla in an even more revealing black dress. Skin tight with cut outs showing her dark skin.

“Jesus Christ, I pity the other girls at that bar.” Tyla runs her hands down her sides, smiling brightly in a way that can only be joking.

And you laugh, and you laugh when she softly bumps you away from the mirror and admires herself even more.

—-

Because of this rash decision to go out, Tyla hadn’t done her usual shopping for the pregame so you were forced to go to the party early- which Tyla actually groaned at and complained about how “embarrassing” it was. But after a few shots, that embarrassment fell away and she was back to being the funny, confident girl you knew her as.

You talked amongst the three of you, and with the two boys who were acting as bartenders, until more and more people slowly started filing in and the sky got dark. It was probably close to 10pm by the time the party really got busy, and those first two hours faded into a montage of alcohol stinging your throat and the sounds of your best friends laughing.

When the hockey team finally arrived, you were sitting on a couch with your girls, Tyla talking in this played-up sensual voice to a random boy who had taken an interest in her, while you and Jackie were busy scouting out the new arrivals and the different kinds of alcohol they placed on the table.

Even if Jackie hadn’t off-handedly mentioned it earlier, you quickly would have found out who this party was for. A large group of girls walked into the party, immediately met with cheers and shots, swarmed with alcohol and congratulations.

Some guy, probably one who actually lived in this house, whipped out a shitty megaphone and shouted their arrival, but it wasn’t even that loud.

Even you, however studious you were, knew about the girl’s hockey team. A bunch of them had played on the Olympic team a few years ago, and all the students of this D1 school were generally pretty proud that the Wisconsin team had won the most national championships.

Most of them were wearing their jerseys, but a few had dressed up. The girl’s hockey team was probably the hottest, most talented group of girls to ever be within 100 feet of you.

It was almost unfair how all of them were so beautiful and so talented, but you suppose that the rigorous workout schedules of Olympic and national athletes didn’t leave a lot of room for anything other than a fuck ton of muscles.

God, half of them towered over you and all of them could probably break your wrist with just a flick.

It was impressive.

What was most impressive, though, is the way the infamous Caroline Harvey walked in carrying about 27 cases of beer, which must have weighed as much as this fucking house, and effortlessly set it all on the ground beside the table full of red solo cups, chasers, and bottles of vodka.

Cheers rang out and people scrambled towards it, ripping the cardboard boxes open greedily and opening them just as fast.

You watched, hiding your parted mouth with your hand, as Caroline accepted an open beer from someone, cheers with a few of her teammates and drank a long sip. When she was done, she laughed and lifted her shirt to her mouth to wipe off some stray liquid, a movement that let just a sliver of her toned abs peek through.

“Holy fuck,” you whispered, quickly looking to the floor and deciding hockey was your new favorite sport.

You knew her from around campus, you both liked to study in the library at the same time- around 3 on Tuesdays and Thursdays, and it became kind of tradition to just stare at her for a few minutes in between sections of your work. Almost like some weird little reward. You did feel kind of bad about it, but fuck, there was no way you could stop.

Besides, it’s not like she noticed.

You always sat on opposite sides of the library, and she never once even looked in your direction. What Caroline didn’t know wouldn’t hurt her, and you never see her unless it’s at the library or in passing at parties. But, God, doesn’t it feel good to just relish in how beautiful she is and stare for just a bit.

“Y/N, babe.”

Jackie knocked herself into you, her knees tucked up to her chest, some sort of a smile on her face.

“What’cha doin’?” She asks, smiling in a way that can only be described as evil. “Starin’? Hockey player pique your interest, huh?”

“No,” you say, forcing a laugh into your voice and rolling your eyes. “Just lookin’ at all the commotion.”

You’re trying to sound as nonchalant as possible, but now that Jackie’s mentioned it- those abs did pique your interest. And now they came flashing behind your eyes every time you blink.

“Oh, my God, I think I’m in heat,” you mumble, slightly to yourself and slightly to Jackie.

She wraps a lazy arm around your shoulder, letting out a sigh. “Oh, sweet girl, don’t worry. I’ve got you. Which one is it?”

“Caroline,” you mumble, so quiet and so sudden before you can really think about it.

Jackie hums, tilting her head to the side. “Don’t know a whole lot about her, but I heard she had a girlfriend freshman year, so definitely into girls. Not dating anyone right now, though. Olympian, hockey player, all that sexy stuff.”

“Mhmmmmm,” you mumble, sneaking a quick glance and then looking away immediately when she takes another sip of her drink, not wanting to know what would happen if you caught another glimpse of those god-sent abs.

“You gonna do somethin’ about it?” Jackie asks, nudging your head with hers.

“No, no,” you dismiss. “Just… being a freak. Admiring. God, I’m pathetic.”

Jackie laughs, abruptly standing and pulling you to your feet too. “Come on, babe, time for more drinks, let’s get your mind off of this if you’re not gonna make a move.”

You roll your eyes but follow her to the table of drinks farthest away from Caroline and the other hockey players. You’re not going to do anything, it’s not like you have a chance, and you’re just bored without schoolwork to occupy your every thought.

You take a deep breath, standing next to Jackie and surveying your options. Jackie choses for the both of you, definitely the more experienced party girl, mixing a drink that is majority vodka, making you groan slightly just at the thought of it.

“Here you go!” Jackie smiles, placing the red solo cup into your hand, smiling like she’s not trying to give you alcohol poisoning. Her gaze fixes on something behind you, and you faintly register the way her eyes light up- already a little tipsy from the few shots you’ve done- but you can’t even be bothered to question why.

You eye your drink suspiciously, mentally preparing yourself for the taste.

“Whoops,” Jackie mutters, and you look up at her only to feel her push you back.

“Jackie-” you start, angry, and she quickly scurries away from you. You want to kill her a little bit, at least question her- but you don’t get the chance to.

You gasp as you slam into someone behind you, drink splashing all over your front, alcohol mixing with the rich velvet texture of your shirt in a way that might very well ruin it. You bite your lip, glancing around the room, grateful that the room is so crowded and busy that no one noticed.

“Damn Harvey, knockin’ girls over on and off the ice,” someone laughs. You think you hear the sound of someone lightly hitting another person, followed by a small “ow.”

“Shit, I’m so sorry, are you okay?”

You turn around, Jackie nowhere to be found, and completely freeze when you realize not only did the person you slammed into have enough decency to ask if you were okay, but that person was fucking Caroline Harvey.

You would have laughed at how cliche it was if you weren’t so secretly exhilarated. The only reason you even had this drink was to stop shamefully staring at her.

But she’s right in front of you… and she looks even better like this, cheeks slightly flushed already from the alcohol, a glint in her eyes.

Her eyes meet yours, staring at you in obvious confusion and concern- “Hey? You okay?”

She places her hand on your waist and you suddenly return back into your body, looking anywhere but her eyes that were literally fucking drowning you.

“I’m sorry,” you gasp. “I-I’m fine. I’m just, like, really drunk.” You laugh, awkwardly, trying to pretend that you’re talking to just anyone. Trying to pretend like her hand on your waist wasn’t the hottest thing you’ve ever experienced.

She smiles, Jesus Christ that fucking smile, your knees go a little weak.

“Oh, good. Would be a shame if that pretty head got a concussion.”

You laugh, staring at her smile. Intoxicating. It’s the only word that comes to mind- maybe enchanted. She’s like some drug, and, God, it’s so stupid but you think you might be addicted after hearing her voice just once.

And, the suddenly, so vividly you almost fall over again, you realize what she said to you.

“Here, let me help you,” she says, effortlessly taking the now pretty much empty red solo cup from you and placing it on the table behind you, wrapping her arm around your waist and leading you to what you assume is a bathroom, probably where she was originally going. “I’m Caroline, but you can call me KK.”

Your mouth is slightly agape as she leads you through the crowd, and you suddenly pass by Jackie who gives you a big smile and a thumbs up- disappearing into the crowd before you can curse her name.

Fuck it. She’s right in front of you. The alcohol is getting to your head, the dim lighting is making everything hazy- everything except her pretty blue eyes and her intoxicating smile.

“KK,” you say, testing the nickname. “That’s cute. I’m Y/N.”

“That’s cute,” she echoes, and the way you can hear the smile on her voice seriously makes you almost fall over.

Thankfully, the bathroom she leads you to is kind of out of the way, it’s completely empty and the door clicks behind the two of you.

Your mood immediately deflates when you see yourself in the mirror, your top noticeably darker where sticky alcohol has sunk into the fabric.

“Fuck,” you mumble, peeling the sticky fabric from your skin.

Before you can even think to do anything, Caroline- KK- is running a random hand towel under the sink and gesturing to you. You expect her to hand it to you- but she doesn’t.

“Okay if I touch you?”

God in Heaven.

“Y-yeah,” you choke out, feeling your world literally recalibrate when she puts her hand on your shoulder- so fucking close to your neck- to keep you steady. You always thought it was the stereotype that basketball players have big hands, but apparently hockey players do too.

Her hand is really warm. This bathroom is suddenly really warm. Your cheeks are heating up, and as much as you try to tell yourself it’s from the alcohol- you know it’s not.

“Sorry,” she mumbles after a few more seconds. “I don’t think this is gonna do much. Maybe try putting it in the wash, though.”

You sigh, now turned sideways, hip to the bathroom sink, looking at yourself out of the corner of your eye.

“It’s fine, my friend… bumped into me, and then I backed up straight into you. Not your fault.”

You look up at her, realizing at this close proximity that she’s taller than you, maybe only an inch.

“I might just go home,” you sigh, feeling kind of disgusting in this nasty shirt.

A frown immediately forms on her face.

“Party’s just started, though. Can’t go home yet, baby.”

She wants you to die. She literally wants you to die. She’s secretly an assassin, and you’ve blocked out the memory of some horrible crime you’ve committed, and now she’s here to kill you by calling you baby and having the sexiest abs you’ve ever seen.

Not a bad way to go, though.

“Here,” she says, reaching up and tugging her jersey over her head, again revealing those fucking abs, and she’s left in a black tank top you didn’t even notice the first time you were staring at her abs. “Take my jersey.”

“Oh, no. I can’t, KK. I mean…”

“I was getting hot anyways, it’s good. Take it.”

It’s nicer quality than any other jersey you’ve ever touched before- nicer than the obligatory Wisconsin sweatshirt you bought at the school store.

You cough, taking it with a hand that shakes slightly, not able to look at her.

“…Thank you,” you say after a moment.

She smiles, big and goofy. “It’s no problem. Maybe you can repay me by having a drink with me, though?”

You pretend to think about it, but really you have to knock your knees together so you don’t fall to the floor in excitement.

“That’s a pretty good price.”

You finally meet her eyes, holding your breath as she stares into your eyes like they’re a lifeline.

“Yeah, a drink with my sexy self- pretty good fuckin’ deal.”

You laugh, and she takes a step back, looking you up and down in a way that literally gives you butterflies-

“I’ll let you change,” she says. “Come find me when you’re done, yeah, baby?”

“I’ll find you,” you breathe, turning around to start slipping off your shirt so she doesn’t see the way you literally bite your lip.

The jersey is huge, since they have to be to cover all the padding and gear hockey players wear, and you’re almost worried that you’d look really stupid in it- but your jean bottoms pull it together, somehow.

It smells good. It smells dark, like a forest, still with a hint of something fresh and light. Is this her perfume? You might want to bathe in it.

You still look pretty good, and your mind races, wondering if KK would compliment you in it- but someone bangs on the bathroom door.

“Y/N?!” Jackie. “Y/N? Holy fucking shit- did I just see what I think I saw?!”

Tyla quickly shouts too. “I got dragged away from a really hot guy for this!! Please tell me it’s true!!!”

You open the door wordlessly, holding your hands out wide so Jackie and Tyla can see the the jersey, the Badgers emblem.

“Ladies, hold your applause.”

“What the fuck!” Tyla screams, forcing you to turn around, then tracing a finger along your back, no doubt where Caroline’s last name is printed on. “Harvey. Fucking Caroline Harvey.”

“God, she’s so hot,” Jackie groans, and you whip around to shoot her a glare. “Calm down, jealous bitch, I mean this is hot. Fuck, does she have any friends? This red is a good color on me…”

“Well,” you smile, mirroring Jackie’s own “evil” smile from earlier, “She said to come find her and get a drink. With her.”

“A drink…” Tyla breathes. “With… fucking Caroline Harvey?”

“Fucking Caroline Harvey.”

“I think I might faint from, like, secondhand hotness.”

“Well,” Jackie starts, looking away from the jersey in awe and back at your face, “You look hot. Go over there right now, get that girl, and make out. Just- right on the couch. Fuck right on the couch.”

“I second that,” Tyla smiles, adjusting the jersey slightly. “Fuck her.”

“Okay, shut up, thanks. We’ll see where the night goes.”

“Oh, my God, I can’t even believe you’re doing this. What happened to my little studious best friend?”

“Alcohol,” you shrug, momentarily wondering if you would regret all of this the next morning- but everything is just so goddamn hazy in this frat house, and you can’t think straight, can’t think about anything other than her.

“Okay, okay,” Tyla says, grabbing your shoulders and staring into your eyes like she’s about to gift you with the greatest wisdom. “You want her to come back?”

You inhale sharply. “Maybe.”

“Okay, well, if this goes good- you gotta leave her before midnight.” She glances at her watch, “It’s 11:06 right now, flirt her and romance her, all that, but leave before midnight, got it?”

“Um… why, though?”

“To keep her guessing, to keep her thinking about you, obviously,” Tyla rolls her eyes. “Trust me girl. We’ll meet you outside at 12 and then take an Uber back, right?”

“Right,” you and Jackie both repeat.

“If you really want her, before midnight, okay?”

“Okay, okay, Tyla. I’ll meet you guys then?”

Jackie pretends to wipe a few tears away. “My girl’s all grown up.”

“Shut up,” you laugh, hugging both of them quickly before disappearing into the crowd of people.

—-

You make your way towards a big couch, some armchairs, and a coffee table filled with liquor.

KK’s eyes light up when she sees you, and you notice there’s a conveniently placed empty seat right next to her, and two cups in her hands.

You don’t think anyone has noticed you wearing her jersey yet, and if someone has commented on KK’s lack of jersey, you can’t tell. You smooth it down, take a deep breath and plaster a smile on your face.

A seductive one, you hope, one like Tyla would do. And with the way she mirrors your smile with her own- except this one is just as big and goofy- you think it’s working.

“Y/N?”

Someone walks past you, then immediately stops and steps back, looking right at you.

“Yeah-?”

Oh.

“Hi, Dylan,” you mutter, smile falling from your face immediately.

“Y/N. I haven’t seen you in… forever, it feels like. How’ya been?”

“I’m fine, Dylan. I’m sorry, I’m meeting somebody, okay?” His face falls, and you feel sort of bad, so you add on “Talk soon,” to make yourself feel better.

“Wait,” he says, grabbing your arm, eyes moving from yours down to your outfit. “The fuck are you wearing? A jersey?”

“…Yes,” you say after a moment, genuinely confused until you remember how much Dylan despises sports, thinks they’re all just some popularity contest. “Okay, I’m meeting someone. Bye, Dylan.”

“Hi,” a new voice says, and you smile just a bit when you realize it’s Caroline. “I’m Caroline,” she says, ever-so politely, and it kinda makes your stomach twist. “Are you a friend of Y/N’s?”

Dylan’s eyes narrow at her. “No, I’m her ex.”

“Oh, my God,” you mumble to yourself, stepping close to Caroline. “Shut up.”

KK shoots you a look, and you can’t help but avoid your eyes. You tug your arm away from Dylan, but he doesn’t budge.

“Dylan, please,” you sigh. “I have to go, okay? Let go.”

“No, Y/N, come on-”

“Uh, I think she said let go, buddy.” She still has that same smile on her face, but your eyes flick to her exposed arms, now noticing just how much muscle is there too. There’s this glint to her smile, this edge to her voice, and you would genuinely be kinda scared if it was directed at you.

“This doesn’t involve you,” Dylan huffs. “Y/N and I need to talk- why the fuck are you going around trying to purposefully piss me off? You know I hate sports.”

“Dylan,” you start, genuinely having to take a deep breath. “We dated for a week in freshman year. Let go of me, stop embarrassing yourself, and stop talking to us.”

He stares at you, before scoffing and letting your arm drop. “You’re such a fucking bitch.”

“Okay,” you sigh. “Thank you, Dylan, goodbye.” You turn around, wondering if KK is even going to be there anymore. “I’m sorry-”

“What the fuck is his problem?” She says, and you genuinely smile at the pure disgust on her face. “Seriously- what?”

“I’m sorry,” you giggle. “It’s just… you’re so, disgusted by him.”

“You aren’t?”

“Well, yeah. But I know him.”

“And I’m sorry for that. I met him once and I never want to meet him again. Weird fucking bitch.”

You laugh again, linking your arm through hers without thinking. “Thanks for trying to defend me, though. I’m sorry- he’s just… an annoying bug that won’t go away, normally he doesn’t talk to me- but I guess he was bored tonight.”

“Don’t be sorry. I’m sorry, I think we lost the seats I saved.”

You look towards the couch, now completely filled with hockey players. “It’s okay,” you hum. “We can find somewhere else. Wanna go outside?”

—-

With the hum of the party behind you, and the stream of people walking out and walking in, the little bench on the corner of the porch was shrouded in darkness, and you felt like you were just in your own little corner with KK.

You sipped on the drink she had gotten you, exchanging basic information like what majors you were taking, how many siblings you had, and al that boring stuff before she finally stopped talking and just looked at you for a moment.

“What?” you asked, wiping some of your sip from around your lips.

She smiles. “Nothing. My jersey just looks nice on you.”

“Oh,” you say, stupidly. “Really? I was worried it didn’t get the same vibe as my original fit.”

“No, I would say you look even better.”

You smile, taking another sip for confidence before you place your hand on her arm. “So, tell me about hockey. Maybe workout routines?”

She laughs. “Workout routines?”

You softly squeeze her bicep. “Well, you don’t get these by just sitting around, do you?”

She takes a sip of her drink, trying to slyly cover her face, and you smile even wider.

“No, you don’t.” When she looks back at you, there’s the faintest hint of something on her cheeks, you don’t move your hand, sinking back into that addiction of making her blush. “Mostly lifting weights, cardio, boring things.”

“M’kay, what about actual hockey? I heard you were an Olympian, right?”

She flexes her other arm, and you can see a tattoo made up of the Olympics logo, intertwining rings, on her inner bicep.

“I’m defense, number 4, and I’m basically the star of the team.”

“Really?” You laugh, pressing your thigh against hers. “Would your other teammates agree with that?”

“Ehhh, maybe don’t ask them so you stay all impressed.”

You smile, and suddenly you realize you’ve been smiling all night ever since you started talking to her. And it feels so good to smile with her, it feels so good to be all giddy, and even when Dylan was bothering you it felt good knowing she was right behind you. And it felt even better when you turned around and she was still behind you.

“Can I have your number?” You blurt out.

“Course, baby.”

You hand her your phone, feeling like a damn middle schooler with a raging crush, and she hands you hers.

You make your contact name Jersey Stealer and she laughs when she sees it, and that sound might be your favorite thing about her- second only to her abs.

You can feel the night coming to the end, but it’s a good end, a comfortable one, and there’s definitely doors unopened and words unsaid. It feels like a really sweet beginning to something really beautiful.

You check your phone, smiling at the contact name of Hockey Star and seeing the time is 11:58.

“My friends are waiting for me,” you say, almost with a grimace. The night is coming to an end but you still don’t want it to end. And like clockwork, you watch as Jackie and Tyla walk out of the party arm in arm- sneaking subtle glances all the way to the end of the driveway, eventually disappearing out of sight behind a tree.

“Oh,” she says. “No problem.”

She sounds disappointed. It makes your stomach twist yet again, to know she doesn’t want this to end as much as you do.

You both stand up and walk to the edge of the porch, down the steps and onto the concrete walkway to the driveway. Somewhere along the way, your hand had slipped into yours.

You stop where concrete meets driveway, turning around to face her. She tucks a piece of hair behind your ear, and you don’t think you’ll ever get used to the feeling of her skin on yours. It feels like an electric rush, like an addictive high.

“I’m really glad I give you a concussion.”

You laugh. “I’m glad you didn’t either.”

She looks from your lips back to your eyes, and you’re suddenly reminded that, yes, kissing exists- and you suddenly want to kiss her. Badly.

Fuck.

“Okay, well, I’ll let you go.”

You softly place your hand on her face. You lean forward, placing your lips in a grey area between her cheek and her lips.

“Goodnight, Caroline,” you whisper, an inch away from her skin.

Suddenly she surges forward, lips fully pressing against yours, hand on your waist, and God does the feeling of her lips on yours feel so good, so right.

Oh, God. She’s succeeded in killing you, you think to yourself- everything fading out for a moment before it all comes rushing back in. The sounds of the party, the chill of the nighttime air, and the sweet sweet feeling of Caroline’s lips on yours.

You don’t think your lips will ever recover from this feeling, from the weight of her lips on yours- you’ll always be chasing this feeling, this moment.

Tyla’s words flash in your mind. You revel in this moment for a heartbeat longer until, just as quick as she kissed you, you pull back.

“Didn’t know you were the type to kiss girls on the first date, Harvey. How scandalous.”

She seems disappointed you pulled away. You can see it in her pretty blue eyes- it makes you feel like you’re on top of the world.

“Are you really just any girl?”

“Nope,” you smile, silently thanking Tyla and every star in the sky- you can see it in her eyes, the way she wants to kiss you senseless, and if the game didn’t feel so good you would have let her.

And the way she’s looking at you, slightly blown away, completely in awe, lips parted but curling into a smile- it gives you an addictive rush.

“Text me when you want your jersey back.”

You take a step back, softly prying her hand off of your waist, but holding onto it for a moment.

“Oh, no, you can wear that to my next game.”

“Really?” You smile, fingertips grazing the back of her knuckles as she tries to hold onto you, but you eventually let go. “You’ll save me a good seat?”

“The best seat,” she corrects. “For the best girl.”

This time, you don’t bother to try and hide the way she makes you feel. You clench your thighs together and let your tongue dart out to slightly lick your lips.

“I’ll be there. You better win, though.” You turn around, then look over your shoulder to see her eyes fall down to your ass.

“With a pretty good luck charm like you? I’ll probably score the winning goal.”

“Bye, Caroline,” you say over your shoulder, smiling so brightly you’re sure you look all lovesick. You can’t care, it’s just how you feel for her. Maybe you should be embarrassed, the way she makes you feel kinda like silly putty in her hands, but it feels so good. So right.

“Bye, Y/N.” Her voice is breathy.

And when you check your phone, you see it’s after midnight. So much for Tyla’s advice.

But, you think to yourself, shoes clicking on concrete and KK’s gaze on your back, you kissed her after midnight- maybe all the good things just happen after midnight.

—-

laila when kk hit her for saying the taking girls down on and off the ice thing: 😞😞😞💔💔💔💔💔

y/n also being happy that she left kk AFTER midnight bc she doesn’t just want her she actually likes her

jackie and tyla wingwoman supremes i love them sm

dylan you are annoying i wish you suffering

#caroline harvey #caroline harvey x reader #kk harvey #kk harvey x reader #ncaa hockey x reader

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hairmetal666 · 2 years ago

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Eddie's at a party, lunch box in tow, and he's making a fucking killing.

He sets up shop in the crowded kitchen, but that doesn't stop him from spotting King Steve in the living room. Harrington's face is still fucked up from the fight with Hargrove, and he's tipping a cup almost vertically into his mouth. He's not too surprised when--the next time he spots the jock--he has a can of beer in each fist.

More customers flood up to him, and he can't help but be a little grateful for the distraction. Harrington is one unrequited crush he just can't kick.

Lunch box cleaned out, Eddie heads outside for a smoke. He's fishing his cigarettes out of his jacket pocket when he hears a snuffling sort of shuffle that sends his heart racing.

He edges forward, just enough to make out the heap of a person half-heartedly sitting up against the house. A person in fitted blue jeans, tight polo, and Member's Only jacket; swoop of chestnut hair catching in the flash of fire from Eddie's Zippo.

"Harrington?"

The guy startles, stability wavering, eyes blinking too much. "Munson?"

"You alright, man?" He asks, though he can already tell that Steve is most definitely not.

Steve shrugs. "Why do you care?" It's not mean, sounds genuinely curious.

Eddie gets it. He has no reason on earth to show concern about King Steve. In answer, he taps his boot against Steve's sneaker, giving him a small smile. "Not sure. But I'm here, so..."

"Just needed some air. Clear my head."

"How much have you had to drink?" Eddie asks.

"One or two,"

"Dozen?"

Steve laughs. "You're funny. Has anyone ever told you that?"

"I've heard," Eddie says, can't help but laugh a little too. "Wanna talk about what's going on?"

Eddie thinks that'll be a "no," but then: "Nancy dumped me."

"Yeah, big news."

"Ugh, people are talking about it?" Steve whines. It's really cute and Eddie hates himself for noticing. Hates himself more when Steve loses his balance, tips onto Eddie's shoulder, and Eddie doesn't tip him back.

Eddie can tell that Steve isn't fully with him anymore. He's a little afraid to leave the guy alone, so Eddie talks about the latest Hellfire campaign. Sober Steve Harrington probably has no idea what dnd is, but the drunk version is kind of a rapt audience.

He's just explaining about owlbears when Steve's voice, soft and sad, says "I just want someone to love me, you know?"

The admission renders Eddie speechless for a second, his chest fucking aching for the jock. He says "Oh, Stevie," knows he sounds too sad, is sure of it when Steve's nose wrinkles (it's cute; it's so fucking cute. Eddie hates himself for noticing).

Before he can backtrack, Steve slumps over, body going limp as he passes out. "Jesus H Christ," Eddie barks.

With a heavy sigh, and way too much fondness, Eddie stands. "Let's get you home, sweetheart."

He gathers Harrington up in his arms--dude is heavy--and carries him around to his van.

---

Steve wakes up, head throbbing and tongue fuzzy, with no idea how he got home and into bed. Can't really recall anything after he stumbled outside, aside from talking to Eddie Munson. But maybe that was a dream? Either way, he's home, not really any worse for wear. It's enough to let him forget all about it; what's one drunken party in a life full of them?

That Wednesday, he opens his locker after the final bell, and a Hershey bar falls out. He picks it up, flipping it over to see a note on the foil wrapping, "thought you might need something sweet to cheer you up." It's not signed, and Steve slips it into his backpack, knowing he's got a silly smile on his handsome face.

The little gifts continue to show up once or twice a week. Candy, plastic vending machine toys, sketches of the school grounds, caricatures of classmates and teachers. Sometimes they even come with a note in handwriting he doesn't recognize.

Along with the little treats, he starts seeing Eddie Munson kind of everywhere. And it's not like Steve hadn't seen him before--guy was hard to miss--but he was never around this often. Wasn't around this often and he and Steve had never shared a smile, a quick bob of the head, a quiet hello.

It isn't long before they're talking. Nothing much, nothing serious. Complaining about teachers, about classmates; sharing weekend plans. Only now Steve can't pretend to not notice the way Eddie dimples up when he smiles, the subtle muscles that bunch under the sleeves of his Hellfire Club shirt, the long litheness of his legs. Steve knows he's attracted to other guys, it's just that he didn't realize he'd be attracted to Eddie.

The gifts keep coming. Once, he opens his locker to find a plastic ring fashioned into a golden crown and a note that says, "made me think of you, Stevie." There's something about the "Stevie" that catches deep in his brain, but he can't make it connect to anything.

A few months later, Steve opens his locker and pulls out a drawing. This one--it's of him. He's gazing out into space in a way that managers to be dreamy and wistful. The Steve in the drawing is lovely, and it makes something clench deep in his gut, that someone sees him like this.

Steve tries to be more aware of the people in his surroundings, to figure out who his admirer is. He's not very good at it, even as more sketches of him--all depicting him as a gorgeous, ethereal thing he definitely isn't--show up in his locker. Especially when, so often these days, the person he sees the most is Eddie.

---

The presents in his locker continue into April, and would probably last until the end of the school year, but Steve's got a migraine starting. He keeps aspirin in his locker, gets a hall pass out of English to get some.

When he reaches his locker, though, someone is already there, with the door open. Someone in ripped black jeans, heavy black boots, a black leather jacket, and patch covered denim vest.

"Munson?" He asks. His heart beats so hard it reverberates in his ears, making it hard to hear.

Eddie jumps back, hands fluttering, face flushing bright red. "Ste--Harrington! I--uh--," he's backing up, his hands held out from his body, like he's pushing Steve away even though they aren't touching.

"Were you--?" Steve tries to ask, but the words won't quite come. There's familiar warmth low in his stomach, a twisting that has nothing to do with his impending migraine.

"I wasn't doing anything, I swear," Eddie says. He's breathing hard, eyes too bright, and Steve thinks he might be about to cry, but then the metalhead is turning away, starting to run.

"Eddie, wait!" Steve calls, chasing after him without much thought. "Please!"

Eddie doesn't stop until after they've crashed out one of the side exits, are alone outside.

"It was you? Leaving the--?"

Eddie nods, presses his hands to his eyes. "Sorry, I'm sorry, Harrington. I just--"

"Don't be sorry," Steve begs. "It's been--I liked it."

"Even now that you know they're coming from the freak?" Eddie spits. He still hides his face behind his hands.

"It's sort of been the best part of my year, if I'm being honest."

Only now does the metalhead remove his hands, blink back at Steve, dark eyes wide with shock. "Really?"

"Yeah. It made me feel-- important, I guess? Like, maybe someone saw me as something more than King Steve."

Eddie smiles now, looks down at the pavement. "I just didn't want you to think that you weren't--" he stops then, presses his mouth tight.

"Didn't want me to think what?"

"That you weren't loved, Stevie."

The statement hangs between them, Eddie's face pinking again, as the words wrap their way around Steve's heart. Loved. That he's loved. It clenches at every part of him, and he surrounds himself with the truth of it, what all those little presents were saying without words.

"Eddie, I--" he's overwhelmed by the gesture, the meaning, the reciprocal buzz in his chest, because Eddie Munson, Eddie Munson, loves him, and this fact is turning Steve's world on it's head in the best way.

"I'm sorry, Steve, really. Please don't hate me, or--or--"

"It means so much to me," Steve says, his voice a little broken. He reaches a hand out, slow, telegraphing the movement. "Can I?" He whispers.

Eddie nods, and Steve strokes the skin of his face with his thumb. "Thank you."

The metalhead nods, leaning into Steve's touch, they shift close, until their foreheads meet, until they share the same air. They stand that way for a while, long enough that they hear the bell ringing, and only then does Steve break their quiet. "Eds?"

"Yeah, Stevie?"

"You wanna hangout some time?"

Eddie laughs. "Yeah. I really, really do, sweetheart."

#steddie #steve x eddie #steve harrington #eddie munson #ficlet #one shot #secret admirer #fluff #a tiny bit of angst #friends to lovers #feelings realization #feelings confession #pining eddie munson #oblivious steve harrington #mutual crushes #high school au #eddie is in love with steve

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apocalypticclownin · 1 month ago

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What's so tragic and difficult about season 1-2 walking dead and their treatment of daryl is how hard he tried to be a good member of the group. he defended camp in season 1, he fought to get out of the c.d.c with everything he had, he saved t-dog with no hesitation, he looked for sophia (he looked for that girl every single day!!) the moment they told him they needed something daryl made it happen. he even had the drugs to fight tdogs infection. AND he was offering everyone as much comfort as he could along the way. The way his conversations with carol and andrea went,,,, the man just wanted to make things okay in his on way. and people judged him so much for being a hick and never thanked him for all of the effort he put into everything he did- and because they never thanked him and showed him the kindness he deserved he genuinely thought they looked down on him in the way merle said.

ugh

season 2 daryl dixon you mean everything to me

#the walking dead #twd #daryl dixon #andrea harrison #carol peletier #rick grimes #t-dog #dale horvath #merle dixon

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eggcats · 8 months ago

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Radioapple fic, where after it's revealed that Pentious was redeemed, Heaven sends some angels (including some of Lucifer's own family) down to check out this Hazbin Hotel. (common fic theme)

And Lucifer is STRESSED. He hasn't seen any of his family in millennia, and they absolutely did not part on good terms. Especially because now he has to make as good of an impression as he can because he will NOT be the cause of Charlie's dreams failing.

Anyway, one of Lucifer’s estranged family arrives and they have absolutely NOTHING good to say about the hotel, it's people, or even hell itself. Insulting the decor, how it looks, being like "You got kicked out for free will and THIS is what they do with it? Ugh." and the like.

Lucifer is trying to keep himself together for Charlie's sake. (He's only had 3 breakdowns today, he's doing good!)

However, the last thing he expects is Alastor coming to his defense. Alastor looks at this shitty relative of Lucifer’s and is immediately like, "How DARE you? Antagonizing this angel is MY JOB, and I don't send him into hysterics, I send him into MUSICAL NUMBERS. Get out of my hotel immediately." But, obviously, he can't SAY that (for many reasons, the least of which is that Charlie needs them here for her redemption project).

So instead, he just picks at everything they say. "Hmmmmm, yes, but we at least chose to do this with this, free will you're insulting. What's your excuse for that eyesore youre wearing, hmmm?"

Alastor goes as far as to defend Lucifer’s choices in decor in the hotel, and Lucifer is completely confused because he and Alastor literally fought the day before about that SAME decor??

(The second the angel leaves Alastor turns to him and goes "They're right, you know, that is the ugliest interior design I've ever seen," and then DISAPPEARS before Lucifer can even respond. What the hell?!)

Alastor is not ignorant of toxic family dynamics, and while part of his initial issues with Lucifer stemmed from his belief in him being a deadbeat father, actually knowing him kind of changes his thoughts on this. It's a little telling that Charlie has been (apparently) attempting to contact her mother during her 7 year disappearance and has heard nothing, but the father who (she believed) thinks she's a failure shows up within an hour of her calling him ONCE. And then he does whatever he can to help her dreams, and the second she implies she wants him around more, he MOVES IN. It's kind of hard to continue thinking that LUCIFER is the toxic parent in the family dynamic, after all this.

(He still fights him, though, because it's fun to tell the most powerful being in hell his choice of interior design is ugly. If Alastor kind of doesn't go for the throat in all of Lucifer’s insecurities anymore, no one needs to acknowledge that.)

So, during the entire Heaven tour, Alastor is strongly in the "form a united front" boat. He can and WILL come out of the shadows for a sarcastic quip that simultaneously shuts them down AND makes Lucifer feel better.

(Alastor will NOT acknowledge the anger that goes through him at the idea of someone other than him picking at Lucifer, especially when they are CLEARLY trying to send him into a breakdown. How dare they. *cough* Anyway.)

So the whole ordeal winds up not as stressful as Lucifer was dreading, because somehow he has an antagonistic cannibal deer defending him the entire time. And Lucifer has no idea HOW that happened, but it does kind of make him feel better. (And Alastor's form of mocking him does, too, somehow.)

When they're alone, however, Alastor still picks at him so they can fight. (And Lucifer didn't notice until now how much FUN he has fighting with Alastor, and that Alastor insulting him makes him want to do better and prove him wrong, unlike his visiting family that makes him want to lock himself away for a decade.)

The tour ends, and Alastor and Lucifer go back to how they were before. (Sort of. Lucifer might be re-evaluating every interaction they've ever had and might send himself into a mild crisis.)

#hazbin hotel #radioapple #alastor #lucifer morningstar #duckiedeer #hazbin alastor #hazbin lucifer #fic #mine #long post #Alastor seeing someone else making fun of Lucifer: how DARE you thats MY job and youre not even DOING IT RIGHT get out of my hotel now

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cafe-smut · 2 months ago

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I'm realizing that if Obey Me!MC ever met WHB!MC, they'd lose their shit.

OB: YOU HAVE TO DO WH A T TO SURVIVE?!

WHB: You dont?!

OB: that feels, and I mean this sincerely, so illegal. Are you ok? Is it consensual? Do I need to call someone for you?!

*demon bros fighting*

OB: SIT BOYS! Anyways, like I was saying-

WHB, staring at the Demon Brothers unable to move, kneeling on the ground: I cannot express to you how jealous I am right now.

OB, glaring at WHB!Leviathan: oh my diavolo you're a bitch. I feel like I just touched something dirty. Gross, ugh. LEVI COME SNUGGLE!!

WHB, watching Leviathan about to murder OB as other Levi turns into a happy blushy mess and gets headpats* oh no

Bael and Beelzebub staring at Beel and Belphie: so you don't just leave to do whatever?

Beel: no? I have a job here outside of Rad- why are you crying.

Bael: can we please trade???

Belphie: hELL NO!

OB: wait so your mammon is like, rich rich?

WHB: more like three but- wait is yours not?

OB: . . . No comment.

*WHB screaming in terror and trying to run at the sight of Simeon, Luke, and losing it at the name Raphael*

OB: angels where they're are evil and trying to kill them. Don't worry about it.

*10 minutes later*

WHB nestled in Simeon's wings literally having the time of their life and super upset about it: mAn, ouR aNgELs fUcKinG SUCK.

OB, staring down a chained up WHB!Barbatos with disgust: your demons suck too. Where are his clothes?

OB!Solomon: ^ ^

WHB: oh you're their solomon?! Man my demons would probably love to mee-

OB popping their head in: NO THEY WOULDNT HES A SHADY BITCH!!

OB!Solomon: how could you say such a thing?

OB: You poisoned me just last week!

OB!Solomon: I made you dinner as you weren't feeling well!

WHB: aww, how ni-

OB: EXACTLY!!! POISON!! I COULDNT MOVE FOR TWO DAYS!!

WHB: 0_o

*The whole demon bros and kings and company staring each other down*

WHB: ok, so um- this is kind of hard to explain-

OB: SOLOMON AHAT THE FUCK DID YOU DO THIS TIME YOU SHADY BITCH?!

Literally the whole WHB cast: SOLOMON?!

WHB: he's not like our Solomon. Sorry guys.

Someone: but it's-

*cue OB flipping OB!Solomon off as he hides a large thick tome behind his back while yelling at him. Lucifer facepalms, groaning*

OB!Lucifer: I have too much work for this.

OB, turning around and grinning: HEY YOU GUYS WANNA SEE A MAGIC TRICK?!

OB!Mammon, clocking it right away: TREASURE NO-

OB: Lucifer, bark!

OB!Lucifer: woof . . . You're fucking dead.

*silence. Both Satan's burst out laughing among others*

Meanwhile poor Luke is being threatened by a couple WHB Demons and that's OB!MC's child so NO THANK YOU!!

WHB is extremely jealous of the magic they can wield, but does help stop their more powerful demons from killing the OB angels. Who are horrified at the thought of aimless murder like that. Except Raphael, he's a warrior angel, but even he agrees that these angels are wrong.

(If OB!Micheal shows up that's going to be a shit show and I've got popcorn)

#obey me crack #obey me #whb #what in hell is bad #obey me mc #whb mc #im not tagging everyone #i just think this is funny #especially with simeon #sweet lovely little angel #their first positive experice with an angel #is with him #and it will never be topped #also whb solomon vs ob solomon?#peak comedy #ones loved and revered and missed dearly #the other has been trying to get with lucifer for centuries with no luck #and cant stop poisoning people

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wasitforrevenge · 4 months ago

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new romantics

pairing: MODERN AU!college azriel x female reader

warnings: may be some triggering content including tampon is a douchbag at a party, mentions of drugs and alcohol, mentions of sexual activity but nothing major, smut books mentioned (hehehe) a fight occurs but can you blame him? he’s just defending your honor ugh, two idiots in love who want nothing but each other and can’t admit it, no use of y/n, imagine her as you, because it is YOU! half editted… ill get to it later i promise

word count: 4.5k

summary: your new study partner is better than you first realize… and now you can’t stop thinking about him, but he can’t stop thinking of you either.

authors note: hi first time writing for acotor! been a fan of these books for a while and my baby azriel does something to me!!! so here’s something i spent the night writing it was 10 different things before it was this lol! pls like, reblog and comment! thank you everyone for reading! photo credit to pinterest, and please i strive to do better so any thoughts pls free feel to let me know! thank you for the support! this is the first time i’ve had the energy to write in months so pls dont go too hard

you met azriel in a greek mythology lecture that you both ended up in during the second semester of your sophomore year. getting partnered with an incredibly built and handsome man for a history report your teacher assigned was the least of your problems when you realized how fucking kind and beautiful azriel is on the inside and out.

the real problem came when you realized how hard you were falling for this man when you started hanging out casually, hitting the coffee stand before class or getting food after a long day. you learned so much about him in a matter of months and couldn’t get him out of your head.

you never spoke existence to your feelings for him, mainly because you didn’t want to ruin a very good potential friendship but partly because you didn’t think you were good enough for someone like him. you’ve heard little whispers about his other… activities and you couldn’t help the way it made you feel.

at the start of your junior year, you and azriel were practically best friends and it just felt so natural. the way you two were together. the way your conversations flowed and the way the silence was never deafening when you were together. you spent time cuddling on the couch in your living room watching movies and rating tv shows and going to visit parks around town and getting high as fuck. once time you had even gone crazy and took some acid and spent hours at the aquarium watching all the fish. you studied for classes together, the one you shared and the ones you both took on your own.

you and azriel were always testing out new recipes in his large kitchen. its wonderful that he lives alone. alone as in by himself but you cannot glance over the fact that the rhysand and feyre along with cassian and nesta live on the same floor of this apartment building close to campus. you luckly only live 2 floors down, a thing you realized when you managed to see him in the elevator about a week or two after you first started studying together.

you were debating all summer about confessing your feelings to him but could not gather the courage to bring yourself to admit it to him and face rejection. you couldn’t mess up the relationship between you already. he was your best friend and you really didn’t have too many besides him. you’ve met his family and have spend a lot of time with them, they’re all practically adopted you at the point, they welcomed you with smiles and open arms (besides amren but they told you she’s always like that.)

but a couple weeks into the semester, you and nesta were standing in a kitchen of a person you don’t know debating on what shitty cheap alcohol you’ll be indulging in tonight. it was the first big back to school party and it was still hot as hell out so you were dressed in dark denim shorts and nice tank top along with your black converse.

you and nesta instantly clicked when you met. bonding over smutty books and all the tv shows you managed to watch. she’s felt like your first real girl-friend ever, you guys got some comfortable together and every time you guys hung out, it felt like no time had passed. it was refreshing to have someone to talk to. she also happens to be the only one who knows about the feelings you harbor for your other best friend.

as you’re about to pour the tequila into your red solo cup, you hear someone call nesta’s name and she tells you she’ll be right back before scurrying off to whichever of her friends was calling her. leaving you there alone not knowing anyone at the party, nesta told you the rest of the group was going to meet you there but you have yet to see any of them as you turn your head around the room.

as you fill your cup and turn to put the bottle back down on the counter, you feel a hand glide around your waist and are suddenly aware of a man extremely too close your liking. “hey baby” he said as he slurred his words, clearly intoxicated, by the way he looked and smelled. it sent more warnings through your head even after he grabbed you like that. you had to leave, this couldn’t happen. thoughts are rushing through your head. you move your hand to push his arm off you as you turn around to be face to face with a tall blonde with long hair.

“what was that for?” he drags out as he tried to put his hand back on you. you instantly tried to move towards the way nesta went and told him, “please get off!” but he was too fast and held your upper arm in a death grip before he tugged you closer to his chest, his other hand back on your waist like the first time he did it. your eyes close in fear as he leans down to whisper something in your ear, but he’s gone in an instant.

it all happened so fast. all you see is a large, muscular, tattooed arm flying in front of you, hitting the man who was on you just seconds ago. you watched shocked as you finally lock in to the situation before you.

azriel beating the shit out of the man who had just laid his hands on you.

azriel swung his fist again towards him, hitting him square in the jaw, “what the fuck do you think you’re doing?” he screamed at him, having another punch already landing with his other fist.

the man doesn’t respond before he swings back at azriel and managed to get a decent swing in, the hit landed to his lip but azriel doesn’t move at all. he’s standing still in the spot, continuing to tower over him.

azriel shoved the man back into the counter and landed a powerful hook right to his nose simultaneously. he cried out as it made contact, “fuck dude c’mon,” he reached up to grab it, blood pouring from his broken nose and busted lip. he steps closer as he removes his hand looking at the red liquid that has held onto his skin, ready to defend himself against the beautiful man that your eyes cannot stray from.

but azriel is faster and before he could even blink, managed to grab a hold of his shirt and pull him up to where his toes barely touched the floor. his hands fall at his sides and his eyes widen in fear as azriel gets closer to his face, leaning down to whisper something in his ear that you can’t hear over the loud music, people partying and the screaming and crying in your heart as you watched this all unfold.

suddenly azriel is tossing the man back into the counter and he barely managed to grab it and hold on, azriel suddenly grows larger, as if he could get any bigger, and leans to spit out the blood that had collected in his mouth behind him. and suddenly your attention is focused on the warmth now englufing your wrist. your eyes immediately register the sight of him standing in front of you, this was warm and right, his hands on you. it just felt so right.

his other hand reached out and gently lifts your chin to meet his gaze. the way the sense of safety coursed through you with his simple touch just confirmed, yet again, that this was going to be so hard for you to tell him.

“hey baby…” he spoke softly, his eyes darted between both yours. his attention solely on you. he let his finger rub against your cheek as he finished, “are you okay?” you can’t help the feeling the shoots through you at the use of the pet name and the look of shock that painted your face. not knowing if it came from, whether it was from what unfolded in front of you at this party or the fact he still holding your face and talking to you like this, so sweetly.

you blinked a couple times and the realization hit you that you’ve just been standing there, staring into his beautiful eyes. not paying attention to the group of people that crowded around as the fight was happening or the looks you guys are getting from other party goers that still surrounded you. the only thing you can stand to focus on his gaze.

azriel.

“i don’t know,” you almost whisper towards him, feeling his warmth covering you both. before you can talk again, he moves his scarred hand from your wrist, you feel almost… empty at the loss of contact but that doesn’t last long as he slipped his hand into yours and intertwined his fingers with yours as he guided you towards the front door.

you passed by so many people, you tried not to pay attention to all the looks you were getting. girls stared as they realized it wasn’t themselves in azriel’s grasp, but you. it was your hand he was holding. your heart beat at just the thought of it, your nerves were already shot as the events unfolded not even 10 minutes ago and this did not help one bit.

your eyes manage to catch nesta’s in the crowd, her eyes widen as she takes in the sight before her, azriel holding your hand and leading you out of the party. oblivious to what actually happened to cause this, she gave you a huge smile and two thumbs up. you cant help but silently chuckle at your friend despite the other overwhelming feelings you have. you’ll explain the situation later when you text her but you were sure eventually she’d hear what happened.

he leads you out the front door and looks back at you with a small smile as you trail behind him. he walked you over, without a word and hands still intertwined and you finally notice your next to his old beat up mustang on the side of the street, the one that smells like him and the faint smell of weed that always lingers regardless of the last time he smoked in there.

he opened the car door for you and you released your hand from his and got into the passengers seat. once you were in, he reached over and buckled your seatbelt for you, giving it a tug to make sure it was connected before smiling down at you from outside the car. he shut the door satisfied and walked around the back of the car to open his own door and sat inside.

the silence is comfortable. it always has been, you pray that sometimes it’s awkward or uncomfortable but it never is. you sit in your seat, eyes staring down towards the hand he had been holding, almost in disbelief, that he defended you like that. you’ve never seen azriel angry like that either. he turns to face you, wanting you to meet his eyes.

azriel walked in the front door of the party, after having a pretty day. the customers at the restaurant he works truly sucked today. small tips and even shittier people. all he wanted to do was smoke off some steam and get drunk with cassian and rhys. he knew you were going to be here. cassian mentioned it in passing while talking about nesta so he was also on the look out for you. the girl who managed to catch his heart after having been partnered together. azriel couldn’t help the way he felt about you even though it almost felt wrong to him.

he didn’t want to take advantage of you, he knew you were shy and never really been in a relationship. he found that out when he walked into the kitchen of cassian and nesta’s apartment, and overheard nesta telling cass all about you after her and you hung out for the first time outside the group. so he just tried to ignore his feelings but regardless of that fact you were his bestfriend. he just couldn’t escape you.

and when he walked into that kitchen to see tamlin standing over you, your arm tight in his grip, the way your eyes were slammed shut trying to back away from him. he didn’t even think. he was there pulling him off you before he could even recognize what he was doing. throwing punches left and right towards the man who dared touched you. he barely even registered the hit he managed on no one but him can put his hands on you. he’s had that thought before but never brought life to it, but here? now?

all thoughts of guilt for feeling that way vanished. there was no way he was letting anyone touch you. but him. that’s all he wanted. he wanted you in a way he didn’t think was reciprocated. love was a funny thing to him, something he was never accustomed to until after he met rhysand and cassian.

his family never showed it, he lives with the constant knowledge of that every time he looks down at his hands. he thought about the way you never judged him of them, like it was nothing at all to you but that was everything to him.

the one sided crush he harbored on mor for a couple years was nothing in comparison to the way he felt about you. his few flings he had over the past couple years (after he realized it was pointless liking mor, also… because she slept with cassian) were mildly of convince and of urge but once he met you, he knew he was a goner.

he stopped the girls. the stopped the meaningless flirting and hooks up and took to just pleasuring himself to the thought as you, as shitty as it made him felt after. sometimes he just couldn’t look you in the eye the next time he saw you but you never said anything. you never commented on it and he silently thanked you in his head.

but right now, after he pulled you out of the party, scarred hand in yours, he needed you to look him in the eyes. but you still hadn’t and he couldn’t just keep staring at the face of the beautiful woman in front of him while it was coated with anxiety and exhaustion.

azriel lifted his distorted hand to your face meeting the soft warm skin that was your own. he gently brought your face to meet his gaze and as you locked eyes, the spark hit you yet again.

gods he was breathtaking. dark hair that covered to above his ears, the eyes that seemed to stare into yours every single time they met, the tattoos that covered him and his golden brown skin that you swore shined outright during different points in the day. your heart cannot handle this man.

“please,” he practically whispered you barely even registered that he said it before he continued, “are you okay, what can i do?” the sound in his voice felt desperate as his eyes bore into yours, the feel of his hand on her face, you couldn’t help but lean into his grasp and close your eyes, taking in the feel of him. you responded a moment later after letting out a sigh and looking at him again.

“can we just go home? i just want to sleep” you asked him with a pleading tone as you feel his thumb rub against your cheek for the second time that night. ugh the things this man does to you. all you wanted was for him to hold you, to feel the press of his body against yours. anything to get the feeling of someone else off you. “yeah baby, we can.” he said gently before he moved his hand down to yours and gave you a light squeeze before he turned the car on and shifted into gear, pulling off in the direction of home.

once you arrived back to the apartment building, he parked in the lot next to the front door and moved around the car to open your door, he gave you his hand as you stepped out. he went to put his hand at your lower back as he opened the door for you but decided against just in case that was a lot for you right now. he did not want to make it worse. he could see the fear in your eyes back there, no way would he subject you to that if you weren’t comfortable with it. so instead he just followed behind you, hitting the button to the elevator to take you up to your floor.

the elevator luckily isn’t taking forever today so when it opens, you and azriel step in and he goes to hit the floor for your apartment but your hand reaches out and stops him. “can we go to yours please?” your head moves up to meet his gaze but his eyes are focused on where your hand is on his wrist. a second later his eyes meet yours and he gives you a small nod and hits the button for the fifth floor. you remove your hand and lean against the wall right next to him, his hand reaches out and entangles his bumpy fingers with yours.

“is this okay?” he asks you. you can barely hold it in after that, the tears finally fall. he feels the sudden change in your body as he moves closer to you but removing his hand from yours in fear that you didn’t want to touch him. but in reality that’s all you want. you want him to touch you. you want him to love you. you want everything with him. its all just so overwhelming, everything that has happened.

he goes to speak but before he can get a word out, your body is on his engulfing him in a hug around his long torso, he instantly wraps his arms around your smaller frame. he can feel your body shake with tears and all he wants to do is make sure that no one ever makes you feel like this again. you deserve so much better, he only wishes he could be better for you too. you squeeze him tighter and he just holds you until the elevator door opens and you pull away from him. mascara and tears running down your face, you can see it on his shirt. he smiles at you before he pulls his hands to your face and wipes your cheeks off with his rough yet soft hands.

you cant help the laugh that escapes you as he wipes his hands on the t-shirt staining it even more with the leftover residue on your face. he gives you a chuckle before connected your hands yet again, walking with you out of the elevator to his one bedroom apartment. he fishes in his pocket with his other hand and pulls out his keys. he unlocked the door and held it open for you to walk in.

your senses are taken over by the smell of him. the smell of his candle lingered from the coffee table covered with textbooks in the large living room, he has a basket of blankets he keeps in the corner because he knows you get cold watching tv. he has a big L shaped couch which had a 60 inch tv across the room, with a boatload of dvds underneath. something you both agreed was a dying art. you and azriel swear physical media will make a comeback one day but you guys will never forget how they ruined it!

his space was a lot bigger since you have a two bedroom apartment. but it was perfect for him. azriel had loved the way he made his space his own, his bass guitars set up in the corner next to his collection of vinyl records and a record player that rhys and cassian got him when he turned 21… as well as a shit ton of booze. he had a bookshelf that held his favorites, as well as your own.

he bought a copy of almost every book you talked about so that he was in the loop with what you were reading. even the ones you didn’t talk about that he caught on your nightstand or in your reading nook. when he bought one of those and read it, his jaw dropped. he immediately thought of nesta and her smutty books but this sent something else though his body. he couldn’t help but keep reading… he wondered if you thought about him while reading these scenes of them ravishing each other, in every way imaginable. he sure did! his right hand hates him!

and you definitely did to… thought about him in ways that you shouldn’t. thinking about him doing all those things to you. the way you knew he would take care of you. the way you knew you could take care of him, despite how inexperienced you are. the thoughts drove you crazy. it was practically all day and every day at this point. thinking about the way his hands would feel running up your thighs or the way his lips would feel on yours.

now here you are, standing in his living room, just wanting all that and little did you know… he did too.

“hey az…” you uttered towards him. he was already next to you as you spoke, “can we lay down please?” your voice was barely a whisper.

he didn’t even need to speak, he just brought you to his room. he lead you to sit on the corner of the bed as he turned and riffled through his dresser, pulling out a large dark green shirt and handing it to you with a smile, “change into this, i’ll be right back.”

“can i take a shower?” you asked azriel shyly. “yes of course, one sec.” you watched as he walked out the room and shut the door behind him. you took your shoes off and placed them by the bedroom door next to azriel’s shoes. he came back in a second later with a fresh towel and a water bottle.

“here you go, you already know where the shower is,” he says with a small chuckle. you give him a grateful smile and a thank you as you took the items from his hands and gave him one last look before heading into his connecting bathroom.

you turned on the hot water and you stripped out of your clothes and threw them into the laundry hamper in the corner of the bathroom. you got in the shower and felt instantly better. the way the water followed hot you could feel the touch of the man from the party washing away, only to be replaced with thoughts of azriel touching you instead. you reviled in it.

you washed your hair and body with his shampoo, conditioner and body wash. silently thanking him for not using 3-in-1 (nesta found out that’s what cassian used and flipped shit) you finished your shower and dried off with the towel he gave you.

you put on his t-shirt that made its way down to your mid thigh when it was on completely. you loved when you were covered in him. you walked back out into the room and didn’t see azriel so you took your seat at the edge of the bed and waiting for him to come back. you sat there and picked at your nails, feeling so wore out you didn’t even want to cry anymore.

azriel came in two minutes later, dressed him long flannel pajama pants and you can see the band of his underwear peeking out as he gets closer to you. he changed after you went into the bathroom, and then went to the kitchen to make sure he was stocked up on the tea you liked and the snacks you guys enjoy together, just in case you got hungry.

he ran around his living room and cleaned random odds and ends. putting dishes in the sink, folding the blankets thrown on the couch and organizing his cd collection. anything to busy himself instead of thinking of you in his shower. anything to get his mind off the amazing woman just in the other room. he hears the shower turn off and waited a few more moments before heading back into the room.

he moved the covers down to make room for you as he said, “after you princess,” with a smile on his face. you returned it and stood up to make your way to the bed but not before turning to hug him again. his arms wrapped around you as you mumbled “thank you azriel,” into his chest. you hold on for a few moments before releasing him. he looks at you before motioning to the bed, “i would do anything for you, you know that.” you felt your cheeks grow red at the thought, at the knowledge that he would.

you climb into the bed and laid your head on the pillow, turning to look at azriel, you wondered why he was still standing. “az are you coming?” you said bashfully. he blinked and bent down to the bed to be eye level with you. “i’m gonna sleep on the couch tonight.” you could feel the way your face dropped in disappointment as you registered what he said. he saw it too and felt it deep in his chest.

he stood up and was about to say goodnight but you beat him to it, “azriel please i need you.”

you could feel how desperate you sounded but you didn’t care. you just needed him. next to you right now. he said nothing else as he moved the blankets again, but this time he was under them. he didn’t hesitate to pull you into his chest, your hand found it’s way over his fast beating heart and his tattooed arm wrapping around you. the warmth and scent of him took over everything in your body. you finally felt safe. your legs tangled together as you eventually fell asleep to the rise and fall of his chest.

“i need you too.” he said to a room with no one awake but him to hear.

part 2??? i would love to write one! let me know what you think! i’d love to keep writing for acotor so yay! pls enjoy :) i’m on the edge of my seat writing this hehe

#azriel #azriel shadowsinger #azriel acotar #azriel smut #azriel fic #azriel x reader #azriel imagine #azriel spymaster #azriel series #azriel supremacy #batboys #acotar #a court of thorns and roses #a court of silver flames #a court of mist and fury #a court of wings and ruin #a court of frost and starlight

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catiuskaa · 6 months ago

Text

charcoal, paint, post-its and tape.

SUMMARY: seeing your boyfriend’s messy art studio, you couldn’t help but want to try and surprise him with a painting of the most gorgeous piece of art you knew: him.

REQUESTED! here by my pookie wookie @4ln-stay8, and honey, this was a beautiful idea! i love writing about art and hyunjin and hyunjin and art (and hyunjin) lol, hope you like! <3

CW: hurt/comfort, mentions of anxiety, reader is really hard on herself as a perfectionist (which sadly i can relate), crying and cursing, lots of fluffy comfort in the end!

WC: 1.6k

[☆🌷🖼️🌷☆]

You hate it.

Your hand feels cramped, your head hurts and you’re close to breaking the paper if you keep on erasing the same lines over and over again.

But it’s hideous.

It’s a sad excuse of an attempt in art and you hate it.

You were tempted to kick the sketchbook away, but knowing that it belonged to your boyfriend, to hyunjin, who could actually do art, made you refrain from doing so, opting to just harshly shove it away from your lap.

It wasn’t fair. You’d seen tutorials. You had practiced beforehand. You went as far as to use his anatomy books to study it, wanting to be able to do justice to his ethereal, beautiful self by at least getting proportions right.

But no. Art wasn’t accepting your preposterous attempt to join into it.

Hyunjin entered your shared apartment as he hummed a random melody, happy to come back a bit earlier than usual, his head drifting off to how he could surprise you and what kind of activity the both of you could do with the newly-founded time.

But he froze after he kicked his shoes off at the entrance.

“Angel?” He called, and you cursed, but barely had any time to put anything back into place as he followed the sound of your gentle sobs.

“Hyun…” you started.

“My love.” He crouched down next to you, looking at you as if you held the stars and the moon just for him. “Want to tell me what’s wrong? Mhh?” He hummed shortly, his hands traveling to your face and stroking it sweetly.

You stared at him, your heart troubled, so the only coherent response you could come up was throwing yourself to his arms.

The long-haired artist hugged you tightly in response, a part of him appreciating having the type of trust that allowed you to break before him and let him watch you reasemble with a little helping hand.

You sniffed, then shook your head sideways.

“Are we doing the nod and shake?” He smiled in efforts of making you join him, which you did shortly, and he allowed himself to take that as a win. “We can do that, pretty. Nod if you want to.” He snickered.

But you shook your head, staring down at the forgotten sketchbook.

“I-it’s just th-a-at I… I w-wanted… wanted to surprise you… b-because I-I wa-s trying to paint…”

Hyunjin’s face shined upon your confesion.

“My pretty girl was painting?” He chimed back with a gleeful joy. “But you’re not having fun. What happened?”

You just shrugged, sinking your head in your hands. “It’s horrible.”

“Can I see it?”

Watching you nod, it was only then when Hyunjin separated himself from you just enough to grab the sketch, then sprung back to your side.

A silence only broken by your unsteady breathing clouded the house as he viewed the canvas.

“Do you want my opinion, my advice, or my shoulder to keep crying?” He offered soothingly, and you rolled your eyes at his last mention. “What? My shoulders are very comfortable. I don’t even charge if you leave tears on my shirt, you know.” Hyunjin teased with a smile that you were quick to match. Another win for him.

“I just… I don’t know…” you sighed, melting against him. “It’s… ugh.”

He stared at your piece in silence, which you didn’t, only zoned out, playing with your hands as the silence crept up your spine.

What if he hated it too?

“It’s just like how you do with your post-its.”

He interrupted your spiral of thoughts, and you blinked at him, so Hyunjin repeated himself with a gentle smile. You then sniffed, a small chuckle fighting to get out in the midst of frustated tears. “What are you on about?”

“You have your cute organizing board filled with post it notes, don’t you, lovely?”

You nodded, but scoffed, still submerged in the depth of the painting —or rather lack thereof. “What’s that got to do with anyth-“

You trailed off when his hands, still a bit colder from the weather outside, cradled your face, forcing you to look at him, a beautiful sight you didn’t notice you were evading.

“Listen to me for a second. Please?” He pleaded, eyes soft, and giggled sweetly when you pouted, a petty way of letting him know you were listening. You blushed when he kissed you.

“So. Your post it notes.” Hyunjin smiled. “You stick them on the board, but often, they slip down, right?” He asked, to which you nodded. “And when that happens, I noticed your little trick, brains.” He booped your nose, and you couldn’t help but smile coyly. “Tell me, beauty. What do you do when they don’t stick?”

“I… I put a small piece of tape on the back.” “And it works like magic,” he grinned, beaming in a kind of proudness you had never seen on anyone, not when it came from others aside from themselves. And it mended your frustrated heart to see him like this, his now warmer hands stroking your cheeks.

He took one of your hands, and with a strained groan, reached to his pencil cade, grabbed a piece of charcoal and stained your hand with it, kissing your palm sweetly

“These are now the hands of an artist. And artists, just like you and me, can be quite like those little post it notes of yours. We bend right after taking us out of the package.” He chuckled, and you followed along, letting the sound of his voice lift your spirit. “It won’t matter how, there can always be a crease, or the glue won’t stick right, or the color is too blinding, maybe too dull, perhaps the paper got stained with paint or ink.” He stared at you, deeply so, allowing you to see through him, allowing you to understand.

This wasn’t about post it notes. Not anymore.

He continued. “But, just as your post its, sometimes…” he smiled. “Sometimes all we need is a bit of tape to stick in place.”

He kissed your tears away one by one, allowing your breathing to even out, matching and following his as you relaxed against him.

“Let me help you stick back on the board.” He looked at your lips in a flash, then bashfully went back to your eyes. “Let me be your tape.”

He hugged you tightly, and he showed you the sketch.

“To me it looks fine, beauty.” He started. “It’s a really nice attempt. Would I redo some things? Probably, if I wanted to be really perfectionist, because it doesn’t look bad at all. Or maybe I’d let the color do its magic.” He shrugged nonchalantly. “The thing about drawing is that we cannot let it control us, hoping to achieve perfection. That can’t be achieved, my love.” Hyunjin laughed. “Even what we see sometimes doesn’t look right in real life. There are references and references, and if a drawing’s sketch isn’t quite what we’re looking, sometimes we may need another one.”

You stared at him softly, comforted in his honest commentary.

“I can help you. You know were to find me.” He smiled sweetly.

“I…” you sniffed, staring at your charcoal-stained hand.

“I just want a coffee right now.”

You both giggled as you stood back up, and he engulfed you in a bear hug, picking you up and carrying you to the kitchen, determined to make you the best coffe in the whole year.

It wasn’t until the next morning that you found him puting your first sketch next to his. Only this time, instead of his usual messy tape lines, yours han bits of tape glued to the back.

Little by little, charcoal and paint helped post-its and tape, but even with the smallest things, it could certainly be the other way around.

And Hyunjin loved it any kind of way— Hyunjin loved you, post-its, charcoal stains and all.

[☆🌷🖼️🌷☆]

catiuskaa, may 2024 ©

~kats, who will now go to bed with my own cup of hot milk (not coffee lol, and sadly not made by hyunjin either)

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caitified · 1 month ago

Note

hi hi hi!! can u write caitlin x reader based on good luck babe by chappell? but reader is the one with bf and caitlin is the one with a hopeless crush on her?

pls pls pls and thank u

good luck, babe!

caitlin clark x reader

warnings:straight reader for a min

being teammates with caitlin clark on the indiana fever was incredible. she was a superstar, both on and off the court, and quickly became your best friend when you joined the team. you clicked instantly—whether it was cracking jokes in the locker room or pushing each other to be better during practices, you two had a bond that went beyond just basketball. caitlin was someone you could rely on, and that meant the world to you.

but for caitlin, it was something more.

from the day she met you, caitlin felt that spark. it started as a crush, the kind you get when someone just captivates you. you were beautiful, smart, and a killer player. but then you became her best friend, and caitlin was stuck. she watched you with your boyfriend, always laughing, always happy—or at least, that’s what it looked like from the outside. you were straight, or so you believed, and caitlin knew she didn’t stand a chance. but she couldn’t help it—the way she felt about you only grew stronger, even though it killed her to see you with someone else.

the worst part was how often you talked to caitlin about him. about how you’d had a fight or how he wasn’t as attentive as he used to be. she wanted to scream every time, wanted to tell you that he didn’t deserve you, that she would treat you better, but she held back. after all, what could she do? you were in love with him—or at least, you thought you were.

“ugh, he’s being so distant lately,” you muttered after practice one day. you were sitting in the locker room next to caitlin, texting your boyfriend and frowning at the screen.

caitlin clenched her jaw, trying to keep her expression neutral. “maybe he’s just busy?” she offered, though she knew that wasn’t the real issue.

you sighed, putting your phone down. “i don’t know… sometimes it feels like we’re just going through the motions, you know? like, he’s there, but it doesn’t feel like he sees me anymore.”

caitlin bit her tongue, resisting the urge to say what was really on her mind. “you deserve someone who’s going to be there for you—really be there,” she said quietly, her voice laced with frustration. “someone who actually sees you.”

you smiled weakly at her, not catching the deeper meaning in her words. “thanks, cait. i don’t know what i’d do without you.”

she forced a smile, though inside, it felt like a knife twisting in her chest. she hated seeing you unhappy with him, but what could she do? you were straight. you weren’t going to leave your boyfriend for her, no matter how badly she wanted it.

but then, everything changed.

one night, after a tough game, the team went out to celebrate a hard-fought win. you had a few drinks—nothing too crazy—but enough to loosen up and relax after the stress of the game. caitlin was by your side, as always, laughing and joking with you. as the night wore on, the two of you ended up outside the bar, sitting on a bench, a little tipsy but still aware of what was happening.

you leaned your head on her shoulder, sighing contentedly. “i don’t know what i’d do without you,” you mumbled, the alcohol making you more affectionate than usual.

caitlin’s heart raced at the contact, but she tried to play it cool. “well, i’m not going anywhere,” she said softly, her hand resting on your knee.

you turned your head to look at her, your gaze lingering a little longer than it should have. something in her eyes made your stomach flutter, but you quickly brushed it off. it’s just caitlin, you told yourself. you’re straight. you have a boyfriend.

but then she leaned in, just a little, and suddenly, the air between you felt different.

“what are you staring at?” she teased, tossing you a wink, but her voice was softer, more intense than usual.

“nothing,” you teased back, grinning. “no big deal.”

she chuckled, but her eyes never left yours. “you know,” she began, her voice low, “i’ve been wanting to say something for a while, but i wasn’t sure how you’d take it.”

you frowned slightly, the playful mood shifting into something more serious. “what do you mean?”

caitlin swallowed hard, her heart pounding. this was it—the moment she’d been dreading, but also the moment she couldn’t hold back any longer. “i like you,” she said, her voice barely above a whisper. “i really like you.”

your breath caught in your throat, and you blinked, trying to process what she was saying. “caitlin… i have a boyfriend,” you stammered, though your voice sounded less convincing than you’d hoped.

“i know,” she said, her eyes locked on yours. “but i can’t help how i feel. and i don’t think you can either.”

you opened your mouth to protest, to say something, anything to push this away, but the words wouldn’t come. because deep down, you knew she was right. there was something between you—something you hadn’t let yourself acknowledge until now.

“i’ve never been with a girl,” you whispered, your heart racing.

caitlin smiled softly, her hand sliding up your thigh, sending shivers down your spine. “you don’t have to decide anything right now,” she murmured, her lips just inches from yours. “but i can’t pretend anymore.”

before you could think, before you could stop yourself, you closed the distance between you, pressing your lips to hers. the kiss was electric, like a spark had been ignited between you, and suddenly, everything made sense. it wasn’t your boyfriend who made you feel like this—it was caitlin. it had always been caitlin.

her hands slid up your back, pulling you closer as the kiss deepened, and you melted into her touch, your mind spinning. you’d never felt like this before, never wanted someone the way you wanted her.

when you finally pulled back, breathless, you stared at her in shock, your heart pounding in your chest. “what does this mean?” you whispered, your voice shaky.

caitlin’s lips curved into a small smile, her hand still resting on your thigh. “it means you’ve been with the wrong person all along.”

#caitlin clark x reader #caitlin clark #wnba x reader #wbb x reader #wnba imagine #wbb headcannons #iowa wbb #indiana fever

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save-the-villainous-cat · 5 months ago

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"Okay, I know you are just here to annoy me and to antagonise me but I really have a problem and I need your help," the hero said through clenched teeth. Their grip on the villain's elbow was tight. Tight enough to make the villain actually believe that something was wrong for a second.

Admittedly, the hero was right about the first part - the villain only attended the gala to annoy the hero. No one would ever believe that the kind billionaire who donated to good causes regularly was fighting the city's favourite hero at night. No one knew, except for the hero and it was by now the villain's special liking to tease their poor nemesis and to let them know the person they were fighting against could get away with most things.

It was more like a hobby. The villain enjoyed watching the hero's little attempts at changing politics or fighting for justice that was clearly manipulated by money. Money which the villain had enough of.

"Oh, really?" the villain asked. "You really want to make a scene? In front of this lovely audience?"

The villain set their hand on the hero's waist and leaned in.

"Don't you think our relationship is more intimate than that?" they whispered into the hero's ear. Messing with the hero excited them more than it should have. The hero was so naive that it was almost funny how they saw the world.

What they believed in and how they presented themselves was admirable but it was a little fantasy world they tried to live in. The hero's faith in humanity was set in stone but the villain had seen how cruel this world could be. In their opinion, the only truly kind person on this planet was the hero themselves - a saint amongst sinners. Someone who tried so hard, yet they were doomed to fail.

Not because they weren't good enough but because everyone around them was too rotten.

"Please," the hero said. They looked a little pale. "You like business, don't you? So how about you help me and I help you in return? Excluding murder or torture or something like that, alright?"

The villain sighed.

"What? Did you rescue a kitten or something and don't know how to bring it home?"

"No, I...just please." The hero's wide eyes were almost unbearable to look at. The villain could feel the hero's hand on their elbow, holding onto them as if they were going to fall over any second.

Those goddamn puppy eyes.

The villain cursed internally. Yes, they had wanted the hero's attention but they hadn't anticipated to turn on their morality and help them.

"Ugh. Fine. What is it?"

"Come with me, please."

The hero dragged the villain through the room full of politicians and celebrities hastily. It must have looked a little strange, almost as if the hero was going to scold them. For a second, the villain really believed the hero was going to betray their trust and simply kick their ass outside.

Those thoughts were discarded quickly, though. After all, this was the hero with their stupid kindness.

It didn't take long for the villain to realise that they were heading for the restrooms.

The hero nearly threw their nemesis into one of the little bathrooms of the hotel and locked the door behind the both of them. Without wasting another second, the hero started to undress themselves in front of the villain which - obviously involuntary - made the villain's heart skip a few beats. They tried to look unbothered but they had never seen the hero like this.

The fancy clothes they'd been wearing all evening came off and for the first time, the villain was aware how vulnerable the hero was right now.

And how much they seemed to trust the villain.

Annoyed at those thoughts, the villain scoffed.

"Christ, next time just tell me if you want to make ou- oh my god?!" Immediately, the villain looked away and stared at the tiles of the bathroom instead of the horror cut into the hero's stomach. There was a giant fleshy wound, something so disgusting, the villain was going to throw up any second now.

"I thought my bandages would be enough but I bled right through them and I really need someone to-"

"And you're asking me to help you?!" The villain covered their mouth with their hand and tried desperately not to vomit. "You know I can't - urgh-"

They couldn't see blood. Their own blood was alright but someone else's? That was a completely different story. Everything inside the villain contracted and they felt a shiver run down their spine. It was such a repulsive feeling they nearly saw this as a punishment.

"Please, I...I was planning on convincing the mayor to invest in more bike roads to lower traffic accidents. I really need to-"

"Oh, fuck off. You are unbelievable. You're going to a gala? With that wound? To convince the mayor to build more roads for fucking bikers?"

"Please," the hero begged. The villain didn't look at them. It was ridiculous enough for the hero to be here, let alone beg them for their help.

The villain felt sick to their stomach. Personally, they didn't use any weapons that could cut through skin. It was way too disgusting for them to even consider it. Whoever had done this to the hero, was sick to their core. The villain swallowed.

And yet...They could hear the hero's quick breathing and their sniffles. Fuck, they were probably holding back tears.

"I really fucked up," the hero said. "You are right about a lot of things, you know? Sometimes, I just want to give up because I feel so dumb for believing I could change anything. But this is really important to me and I really need you to save me this time."

The villain closed their eyes.

I really need you to save me this time.

"Shit. Lay down." They managed to look into the hero's eyes but in their periphery, they saw the blood running down their body, running down their leg. Thank god they were next to a toilet.

The hero did as they'd been told and the villain concentrated on their eyes instead of anything else. That was easy, it always had been. It was more intimate than any situation they had been in together. The villain sat down next to them and kept looking into their enemy's eyes.

"Tell me what to do."

"Can you use a clean towel to stop the bleeding?"

"Yes, yeah. Yes." The villain found one and pressed it against the hero's stomach. Their nemesis made a horrible sound. "One thing, though."

"Yeah?"

"You go home after this," the villain said. "I do this and you go home."

"No, I-"

"That's the one thing I want in return. You'll go home after this. Fuck, I'll drive you or whatever." The villain rolled their eyes, pretending to be annoyed once again. With an injury this big, the hero wouldn't make it through the night without rest. It was true that the hero was very hard to kill. But that didn't make the situation any less critical.

"Did you know over 30% of people in this city die because of road accidents? And over 20% of those include bikes, I've been trying for months to-"

"Okay. I will get those stupid roads for you," the villain hissed. "Just...let me bring you home after."

They didn't expect the hero to take their hand and smile softly.

#this villain is so pathetic send them to JAIL #writing snippet #heroxvillain snippet #heroxvillain prompt #heroes and villains #hero #villain #heroxvillain #hero x villain

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fallstaticexit · 3 months ago

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The Art of Being Seen - a Nancy Landgraab story

୧‿̩͙ ˖︵ ꕀ⠀ ♱⠀ ꕀ ︵˖ ‿̩͙୨

𝔓𝔞𝔯𝔱 𝔒𝔫𝔢 - 𝔜𝔬𝔲𝔱𝔥

Prev / Next

AN / Transcript under the cut

AN: Nancy's story will consist of 3 parts: Part One- Youth | Part Two - Uni | Part Three - Wife Three pivotal moments in Nancy’s life that shaped the Nancy we know today.

As mentioned in the prologue, this story may contain mature and possibly even uncomfy themes and all posts will have their corresponding trigger warners in the post as well as the tags. Trigger Warnings are: Homophobia / Religious Trauma / Death via Car Accident/ Drugs / Alcohol / Infidelity / Sex & Nudity

Also, I have experienced CAS burnout lately, so I aged down most of the townies to teens lol. I figured this version of Cassandra Goth can be the AU version since I’ve already wrote Bella and Morti Goth into my Briar legacy, which this story is apart of that universe.

Transcript:

Cassie: This is Blair Hall, the senior girls’ dorm, and if you ask me, it’s the best one. We have our own private library. Down there is the rec room; we’re not allowed to have the boys over unless it’s with a chaperone.

Cassie: We’re also the closest to the church, which is great for when we have group sessions before service. You won’t have to rush and scarf down breakfast, plus you can sleep in a little!

Nancy: [sarcastically] Gee, how’d I get so lucky?

Cassie: Sister Agnes always says, It’s not luck—it’s a blessing! Vacancies are hard to come by. My old roomie withdrew; she had a really hard time fitting in with the other girls. They can be... kind of intense.

Dina: Oh, look. Another pretty blonde rich girl. Like those aren’t a dime a dozen here.

Nina: [scoffs] Here we go...

Dina: I am not joking. I better not catch her ass around Don. The last hoochie he was tonguing down was also a skinny, flat-chested, blonde bimbo.

Vanessa: You need to put his weenie in a cage instead of fighting every girl that breathes the same air as him.

Dina: Well, he wouldn’t be tempted if these floozies would stay away from my man!

Vanessa: I guess dyeing your hair blonde isn’t working for you, huh?

Dina: Oh, shut it, VV. You’re just jealous he isn’t into redheads.

Nina: Hmm, I thought he was into redheads though.

Dina: Ugh, as if!

Cassie: You can pretty much decorate your space however you want. Just nothing that’s on the prohibited list. There’s a room check every night before curfew, and-

Nancy: What do you know about that redhead on the balcony?

Cassie: Dina?

Nancy: No, she said her name was Vanessa. I ran into her this morning but she didn’t mention her last name.

Cassie: Oh, yeah! VV. Vanessa Villareal. She’s- eh, one of the mean girls. I try to stay out their way. Probably best you do the same.

Nancy: [softly to herself] Villareal. So, she’s old money, too.

Cassie: Her family built the school. Guess that’s why she feels like she can do whatever she wants- eh, don’t tell anyone I said that!

Cassie: But, erm, you’re welcome to hang out with me and my friends during rec and lunch and stuff. I know how tough it can, being the new girl and all.

Nancy: Yeah? ...thanks- Cassie, was it?

Cassie: You’ll totally like my friends. They’re the coolest people on Earth.

Cassie: Definitely better than some people. You can tell who goes here because of their faith and who was forced here because of their lack of it.

Cassie: Hey guys! This is Nancy, she’s my new roomie.

Bob: No way, they filled Angela’s spot already? Money talks. I’m Bob, or Bobby, and this cool, tall drink of water is Geoffrey. Welcome to Paradise.

Bob: [whispers] Geoffrey! Say something to the pretty girl!

Geoffrey: [voice cracks] W-we’ve um, met already.

Geoffrey: Our dad’s are friends. I just haven’t seen her since we were 10 years old. She looks so... different.

Bob: Oh, I seeee. First love? Your ears are beet red, my man.

Bob: Take a seat, newbie! Are you into D&D, perchance?

Nancy: I have no idea what that is.

Bob: Oh, ho ho! You’re in for a treat, m’lady. I’ll catch you up from the beginning of our campaign.

Vanessa: You look so bored. Want to get out of here, new girl?

Vanessa: Don’t worry, I’ll return you back to your nerds in one piece.

Cassie: [grumbles] Um, hello, we’re sitting right here?

Nancy: Go where, exactly? This place is in the middle of nowhere.

Vanessa: Guess you’ll have to come and find out.

Nancy VO: [I learned then, that I would follow her anywhere]

Dina: There she goes, taking in another stray.

Nancy VO: [All she had to do was take my hand]

#Landgraab story #nancy landgraab #dark academia #catholic school #sims 4 stories #ts4 simblr #sims 4 simblr #sims 4 community #ts4 story #a special big thank you to my sister for the title #you’re the best ✨#cassandra goth #geoffrey landgraab #bob pancakes #dina caliente #nina caliente #don lothario #Vanessa Villarreal OC

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iloveacaibowls111 · 1 month ago

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Convenient (Angst Vers.)

synopsis: life as sukuna’s forgotten wife, angsty but nothing changes.

A/N: There’s originally two different versions that I wrote. One that ended as a fluff while this one ended as an angst. This one I like more so I thought to post this one :)

Moans filled your room, accompanied by the unmistakable sounds of skin meeting skin. It felt like something straight out of a sordid fantasy. But it wasn’t you beneath him, breathing hard and lost in passion. No. It was your husband and one of his concubines in the room directly across from yours. You threw a pillow over your head, trying to block out the sounds entirely. You knew he was doing this to get under your skin—retaliating because you’d made him angry, and this was his punishment.

“Ugh, shut up!” you hissed to yourself, fighting the urge to slam your fists against the chamber wall. But you knew he wouldn’t like that.

The girl’s moans grew louder, her voice rising to that high-pitched crescendo, no doubt to draw him further in. You couldn’t bear another second. Grabbing a silk robe, you wrapped it around yourself, messily braiding your hair into a plait. You slipped from your room, away from those sounds, thankful that your handmaiden had gone off to bed. Moving quickly, you slipped on your slippers and darted into the garden.

The moon cast its soft glow over the garden, illuminating the cherry blossoms nearly in full bloom, their pink petals dancing lightly in the breeze. The moment you stepped outside, your fury seemed to dissolve into the night air, replaced by a kind of quiet sadness. You settled onto a stone bench, letting the cool breeze brush against your skin. The noise from the next room had cost you any hope of rest, keeping you from the fragile peace you craved. Still, you refused to cry. Not for him. Not tonight.

He may have been the King of Curses, feared and renowned, but none of that mattered. He was your husband. Yours—not theirs. You were his only true wife, yet he paraded around with women who could never give him the loyalty or devotion you had. He always called you his own, his claim. But in truth, he was never really yours. As the first tear formed, you held it back. You wouldn’t give him the satisfaction. Not anymore.

Your gaze drifted to the cherry blossoms swaying softly, as memories tugged you back to when he had first held your hand, back when you were his world, his queen, his confidante. When his touch sent thrills through you, and his voice was the balm to your every sorrow. But somewhere along the line, you became little more than a treasured relic to him: admired but neglected, a remnant of his affections.

A faint laugh escaped your lips, hollow and brittle. You looked at your hands, hands that had once ached to touch him, to pull him close when the world grew too cold. Now, they lay empty in your lap, unfamiliar even to you. The cherry blossoms above seemed to sway in pity, each petal drifting like fragments of lost hope.

“You were my everything,” you whispered into the night, your voice barely a breath. “And to you, I was… convenient.”

The words felt heavy and painful yet freeing, a truth spoken at last. Maybe they were real, maybe not, but in that moment, they felt like the only truth. You had loved a man who saw you as a possession. And even now, after everything, a part of you still ached for him, for the love that had once seemed so sure.

The chill of the night seeped into your bones, but the thought of returning inside filled you with dread. In that quiet garden, you felt both empty and whole, as if the solitude allowed you to remember who you were before him. Surrounded by cherry blossoms and moonlight, you found peace in your own presence, a place where you were allowed to feel.

A single tear slid down your cheek, and this time, you let it fall. Here, under the moonlit sky, you allowed yourself to mourn the love that had faded, the loyalty that had never been returned. He’d never see you cry, never know the weight of your sadness or the depth of what you had sacrificed. But here, alone, you could finally release the years of quiet heartbreak.

You sat beneath the stars, eyes tracing constellations as if searching for something beyond reach. You let your mind drift to a life you could barely imagine: one where you were free, loved, cherished. A soft breeze ruffled your hair, and you closed your eyes, letting the wind embrace you.

Because, after all, that was all you could do.

#jjk #jjk x reader #jjk x y/n #jjk angst #jujutsu kaisen sukuna #sukuna x reader #ryomen sukuna #jujutsu sukuna

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twstedreamweaver · 5 months ago

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Something Wicked - Yandere Jade Leech x G/N Reader

NRC is a dangerous place and you got on the bad side of some Savanaclaw students.

You end up making a huge mistake, but don't worry, Jade Leech is there to clean it up for you.

TW: A student commits suicide, violence, drugging, reader has a panic attack, slight suggestive content, murder -> minor character deaths, yandere themes, stalking, reader gets into a fist fight, kidnapping

The students of Twisted Wonderland's prestigious Night Raven College are known for many things, but kindness is most certainty not among them.

You knew the first day you stepped foot on campus that this world reveres the strong and preys upon the weak, and in the months since, you have become well acquainted with the unspoken laws of the school. The watchful eye of the faculty and the Housewardens (well, some of them) only extends so far. Out of their reach, in the shadowy hallways and courtyards, NRC devolves into a merciless, brutal game of survival of the fittest.

You're lucky that your friends are looking out for you.

"Ugh, those Savanaclaw students only seem to be gettin' bolder by the day." Ace frowned.

The expression on his face was hard to read, but he seemed... frightened. Genuinely frightened. The air suddenly felt frigid.

In the blink of an eye, Ace returned to his usual, cocky demeanor and his signature shit-eating grin replaced his previously solemn features.

"You're lucky I was here, or your ass would have been toast-".

"You mean we-" Deuce interrupted, annoyed.

"Whatev, dude, it was pretty much all me that made them run for the hills anywayyyy."

Deuce opted to ignored Ace's insult, his eyes clouded with genuine worry, "Y/n, are you alright?"

You glanced behind you, as three figures clad in Savanaclaw uniform rounded a corner. You frowned.

Right before they disappeared, one turned his cloaked head to look at you, features dark, hidden beneath his hood and he curled his lips into a sinister grin.

A chill crawled up your spine. They were too far away to see clearly; you must have imagined it.

You invoked the ire of Savanaclaw once before, during the Spelldrive tournament, but being in Leona's good graces convinced them to overlook you for easier targets.

But not even Leona could deter them this time.

"They've been at it for what? Three days now?" Ace's voice pulled you from your thoughts.

You let out a heavy sigh before giving them a smile, albeit a pained one. You chose to ignore Ace's rhetorical question for the time being.

"Thanks guys. I'm honestly really grateful to always have you guys ready to back me up. I don't know what I'd do without you." You can't remember the last time you admitted something so serious, so sincere and heartfelt.

The constant state of paranoia and hypervigilance you'd been living in were really getting to you.

Both Deuce and Ace seemed to reel back at your words, surprised. You swear you see the hint of pink grace their cheeks, as they turn away, muttering jumbled combination of "Erk, yeah, uh, no problem!" and "Well, yeah you should be thanking us."

No way that's all it takes to make them blush. You smile inwardly.

"Let's get out of here. It's getting dark."

As the trio, talking amongst themselves, returns to the safety of the main corridor, a lone figure quietly follows.

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

Even Grim's snoring could not distract you from the cacophony of your thoughts that night.

Ace and Deuce were insistent on spending the night at Ramshackle. Ace in particular tried to worm his way into your bed, on the pretense of 'protection'. Deuce vehemently objected of course.

Your bed was already small after all, and Deuce definitely did not seem to enjoy the idea of you lying that close to him while he dejectedly watched from the hard floor. And Grim would have been pissed to not have enough room at the bottom of the bed to curl up.

And Grim did already loudly insist that he - Grim the Great! mind you - is perfectly capable of protecting his human! And he certainly didn't need help from those two.

You turned down Ace's suggestion anyway, teasing him alongside Deuce, leading to a grumbling Ace defeatedly disappearing down the staircase.

In all honesty, you wouldn't mind - given the current situation - but the thought of your bodies touching admittedly made your cheeks grow uncomfortably hot.

The duo opted to sleep on the couches in the foyer instead, as Deuce suggested. It was the best location anyway, as they'd be closer to the main entry if anyone tried to break in.

After giving them blankets and biding Ace and Deuce goodnight, you settled in with Grim, who quickly fell asleep, leaving you to lie awake, alone with your thoughts.

You sighed, staring at the ceiling. Sleep was futile.

Your troubles began well before the incident.

Henry, a Savanaclaw student you had shown a sliver of kindness to in Alchemy class, started following you around the school, trying to talk to you, to befriend you, to be near you. He spiraled into a twisted form of infatuation. He'd give you weirdly expensive gifts (which you'd decline), researched your interests extensively, and hunted down all your socials online.

You weren't interested in him, not romantically or even platonically, he was creepy, to say the least, and you hardly wanted him as a friend. You were civil, polite at first, but you became increasingly harsh as the weeks dragged on.

While NRC was cruel, you were lucky to have made allies with the people you did.

Your friends noticed him within a few days. You had amassed many friends in high places while at the school and they ensured that he never got close to you, except, of course, in Alchemy class, the one class you shared with him. Crewel, ever watchful, quickly noticed and separated you, ensuring that you weren't together on projects.

Occasionally, you'd feel a tinge of guilt. While he certainly was annoying, you couldn't help but feel that he didn't deserve what happened.

Seemingly over the span of a week, Henry managed to amass a large group of very powerful people who all greatly despised him.

Idia deactivated his socials and Leona and Ruggie practically banned him from leaving the dorm after classes. Azul tricked him into a terrible deal and Riddle would slap a collar on him for the most minor of infractions.

You guessed he'd give up. He didn't. He actually got more aggressive, more spiteful towards you for not reciprocating his feelings. More hateful and angry at the injustices he was subjected to by the Housewardens. He got worse and worse by the day, until one day, he inevitably snapped.

Love potions are not only highly taboo, but also illegal in Twisted Wonderland. Moreso, it's incredibly easy to determine the culprit, as each potion is unique to its user.

Jack, with his sharp sense of smell, caught a whiff of something in your drink at the cafeteria. You had no idea how Henry managed to slip something into a sealed drink that you purchased from the cafeteria directly, but he did.

You and Jack went to Vil, arguably the alchemy genius of the school, who determined that it was a love potion. And given the situation with Henry and a strand of his hair, it was easy to determine that it was none other than Henry's love potion.

Henry was expelled from Night Raven College shortly after Vil showed Crowley the evidence. The police were alerted, and it seemed that he was set to spend a year in prison.

But Henry never went to jail. He never even got arrested.

A few hours after the police arrived and they couldn't seem to find him, a frantic student stumbled into Crowley's office.

Henry was found hanging from a tree on the edge of school grounds. A noose tightened around his blue neck, eyes bulging. It was a terrible sight and one that Crowley did not want to get out. And Crowley made sure the truth never saw the light of day.

To the general public and his family, Henry likely ran away to escape prosecution. But you, and a select few, knew the truth.

The whole situation reeked of suspicion to you. You couldn't help but wonder if Henry was framed, if he really did kill himself, or if someone else was responsible.

But for everyone concerned, it appeared Henry disappeared from your life as quickly as he had entered it, but the problem was far from over.

Henry had dedicated friends, and they resented you. Despised you.

They started appearing late at night, tailing you as you walked home. You told Deuce and Ace and you all concluded that while their identities were always obscured, it had to be the late Henry's vengeful friend group. They were upperclassmen, Savanaclaw students, and while Ace and Deuce seemed ready to take the fight to them, you urged them not to. The last thing you wanted was for them, your best friends, to get hurt on your behalf.

After all, they were likely just trying to scare you. But the sinister aura you felt told you otherwise. You wish they knew how guilty you felt, how you cried when he died. It wasn't your fault, you knew that, but you couldn't help but feel responsible for Henry's suicide.

You hadn't told anyone besides Ace and Deuce. Fear and guilt stopped you. Fear that history would repeat itself. That another student would stumble upon three more bodies hanging from a tree.

Why is this always happening to me?

You tossed and turned for an hour, until finally you fell into an unsteady sleep, haunted by nightmarish visions.

Unbeknownst to you, they were waiting for you to do just that.

A person, clad in black, crawled out from under your bed.

"Got you."

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

You awoke to cold, unrelenting, freezing cold. You felt as if you were in a fog, as if your limbs were tied to weights you couldn't hope to lift. You heard distorted voices and the whispers of wind.

The Savanaclaw students. Henry's friends. They got you.

Adrenaline surged through your body, ripping you out of your deep, mind-numbing slumber.

Your eyes flew open, but you couldn't see anything except the night sky as your eyes adjusted to the low light. You were on your back, you felt grass against your exposed skin and the hard ground beneath your head.

The voices sharpened into focus.

"-wait for this lying bitch to get what they deserve."

You have to get up. You're starting to see figures moving around you. Three, two milling around, one trying to lift something with magic. They had a lantern set on the ground, but it was faint, barely enough to emit enough light to see what the one was trying to lift.

"Well, then fucking help me lift this. Jeez, why am I doing all the damn work-"

It almost looked like, a rock?

"Sorry, got distracted. Rich, you recordin'?"

You have to get up, now.

You feel like there's electricity surging through your body, snapping you out of the sleep-induced haze.

You were drugged. It must have worn off before they planned.

"I can't wait to see their head fucking splatter."

You leaped up. The world was spinning, you were moving so fast, your brain couldn't keep up. You stumbled then lunged, aiming for the lone figure that wasn't lifting up the rock.

Your vision narrowed.

One of them yelled, out of the corner of your eye, you saw one of the students whip around towards you, canceling the spell, as the rock fell right onto the other's foot.

Curses, yells, it didn't matter. The man's screams were dilluted by your concentration on the man in front of you.

His face was distorted, his mouth agape. He was turning towards you.

Perfect.

You clenched your right hand into a fist and planted your feet into the dirt, bracing yourself, as you reeled back and aimed for his exposed jaw.

You exhaled sharply right before your fist collided with his jaw with a crack. His head whipped to the left, spit flying out of his mouth, a choked, strangled noise coming from deep in his throat.

Your left elbow was ready, your right arm coming back to guard, twisting your torso as you threw your elbow into the left side of his head, swinging through.

You couldn't feel anything, everything was moving too fast, but you were sure you might have broken your hand.

After the collision, you jumped back, head whipping around to face your approaching opponent.

A punch was heading right for you, aimed at your head.

You side stepped, centering yourself, grabbed his arm with your left hand and then reeled back for another right punch. As he stumbled forward, your right fist met the side of his face. He lurched to the side, and you stepped behind him to kick at his lower back, you planted your foot on his tailbone and pushed, sending him sprawling forward.

The other man was trying desperately to lift the rock off his foot, but he couldn't pick it up with magic alone and he certainly couldn't lift it with his own strength.

The man fell face first into the dirt. He was weak, helpless, entirely at your mercy.

Your vision was red, your breathing was heavy, your lungs and throat burned as you raised your foot and slammed it down.

They deserve this.

You were enraged, terrified, the world was spiraling but. You were finally in control.

You were on top now; you were the one in power.

Your foot slams down over and over again.

They were going to kill you.

You didn't need magic, not this time.

In this shitty world, you were always the magicless nobody, lost, homeless, at the whims of a headmage who couldn't care less.

He was begging for you to stop, trying to lift himself, but each stomp left even weaker.

And you blame me? You go after me?

His face is caved in, you hear a crack as your foot meets his skull again and again.

Why am I always the problem? Why do I always have to deal with this?

The blood looks black under the moonlit night.

I never asked for any of this.

Tears started streaming down your cheeks, the man with the rock on his foot was yelling, begging you to stop as he watched, completely helpless, as his friend was beaten.

You were going to do this to me! Why the fuck should I stop?

He wasn't breathing anymore, was he?

Reality seemed to shift into focus.

What have I done?

"I never wanted Henry to die!" You screamed, as you stepped back, staring at the lifeless body in front of you, shaking.

You collapsed to the ground, sobs wracking your throat, "I never wanted any of this!"

"What was I supposed to do?"

The other student still lay unconscious on the ground a few feet away.

You couldn't breathe.

He was dead, you were certain.

Everything was spinning again, you were nauseous, your hand stung, your elbow stung, your head was muddled by the lasting effects of a drug.

You were sobbing and you couldn't figure out how to breathe. The air wouldn't enter your lungs.

"Oh my god." you wheezed through choked sobs and tears.

A hand landed, gently, on your shoulder.

"It's going to be alright, Y/n."

You whipped around to see Jade Leech towering over you. His expression unreadable in the dark.

"Jade?" You choked out.

The boy with the rock on his foot stared, mouth hanging open. He was quiet.

The whole world was quiet for a moment.

"In the flesh." You saw the trace of a smile in the dark.

"I'll take care of this, Y/n. Nothing is going to happen to you." You suddenly noticed the sharp edge in his calm tone, the piercing sinister nature of his words.

You couldn't move as he pulled a handkerchief out of his pocket and handed it to you. You took it with shaky hands.

He stood up and walked quickly toward the remaining Savanaclaw student.

Like a predator that knew its prey was cornered.

"Please, no, I'm sorry, Jade-" The boy was trembling, his pleas falling on deaf ears. "I'll do any-", the student's sentence was cut short. A gurgling, gasping sound came from the student. Jade's gloved hands were squeezing the boy's neck. The student flailed, arms clawing at Jade, writhing, and Jade only dug his fingers in more.

You watched in horror, at his inhuman strength, at the silent, brutal way in which he drained the life from the student's eyes.

All you could hear was the gasps of the boy in the dead of night, as you stared, helpless to move.

His body collapsed, head lolling to the side, with a final twitch.

Jade refused to let go as the seconds seemed to crawl by, barely half a minute but it felt like an eternity.

Jade dropped the boy, still stuck under the rock, as his body rag dolled and flopped onto the ground.

"No matter how many obstacles I must dispose of, I will always protect you, Y/n," Jade's voice broke the uncomfortable, painful silence.

Your stomach churned and your vision closed in, your arms barely able to hold yourself up. You collapsed onto your side, the drug and the stress and the fear all adding up.

Jade turned his head to look at you, a sinister grin flashing sharp teeth contorting his face.

"I assure you that I will always keep you safe." As you fell into unconsciousness, you heard Jade moving towards you in the dark.

You felt a gloved hand brush hair from your face.

"Allow me to take care of your problems, just like last time."

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