Gravity

Marvel! If you will hurt Loki we riot!

Repost it. So someone in MARVEL see’s it. Becouse we are his ARMY AND WE WILL PROTECT HIM!

I wasn't watching episode's 8 and 9 while they aired so I watched it together before season finale. Did they just went from episode about war trauma to musical one. Also I know how my Spotify wrapped will look this year.

Wisdom Teeth and Too Small T-Shirts (Peter Parker x Reader)

Request: “10 and 13 from the prompt list with Peter, pretty please????” + “#10 please”

#10: “There is no way I’m going out in public with you looking like that.”

#13: “Hey is that my shirt?”

Summary: When you became Peter’s girlfriend you knew you would have to put up with a lot of things: crazy supervillians, missed dates, late assignments, etc. but you never anticipated that your hardest challenge to date would be something not related to his hero persona at all, but just getting home from the dentist.

“Vhat the hmck.” Peter struggled against the seatbelt that you had just buckled for him. He had just gotten his wisdom teeth out and his speech was pretty impaired by the cotton in his mouth. While it was extremely cute, you focused on the task at hand; getting Peter to keep still and keep his seatbelt on. You were supposed to drive him home and take care of him for a bit while Aunt May was at work and you had openly accepted the job, getting to witness whatever crazy stuff Peter said would be super funny and cute, you just hadn’t anticipated how crazy.

“(Y/N)!” Peter yelled. “Vhere err ooh?” 

“Peter I’m right here. I just walked around the car to get in.” You giggled as you got in the driver’s seat and buckled yourself. You began to back out when Peter screamed and you pressed the brake to the floor.

“Oh my gosh! Peter what?” You looked at him in the rearview mirror. 

He yawned and shrugged. “I just felt like I needed to do that.” You closed your eyes in exasperation. Maybe this wouldn’t be as cute as you thought. 

Once you got on the road you heard Peter rummaging around in the back of your car. You ignored it because of the heavy traffic and hoped he wasn’t causing too much trouble. When you looked up you snorted in surprise. 

“Hey is that my shirt?” Somehow Peter had taken off his own shirt and put on one of your extras that you had kept in the back of your car. It was obviously much too small for him and had a print from a Disney movie on it. 

“No.” He jutted out his chin stubbornly. “This is my shirt.” You couldn’t help but laugh at his look of surprise when he looked down and noticed the shirt didn’t cover his stomach. He looked so ridiculous you couldn’t help it.

“Oh Peter.” You giggled. “What am I going to do with you?” 

“Kiss me probably,” He winked before laughing himself while you just rolled your eyes. He continued to make comments as he reached into your bag and pulled out your tiny makeup bag. 

“Peter no.” You tried to look at him again as you simultaneously tried to turn the corner and avoid an oncoming car that had swerved into your lane. 

“Peter yes.” He answered you as he began to put eyeliner on his nose. You gave up and focused on the road. Once you got home you’d be able to give him the attention he obviously needed.

Soon you were parked in the apartment lot and you finally looked at Peter. 

“I can’t believe you.” You couldn’t stop laughing at how funny your boyfriend looked. You were pretty sure that lipstick was on his eye lids, and matched with the tiny shirt he sure was a sight to see. Peter began giggling because you were laughing. 

“How do I look?” You just shook your head and grabbed the bag away from him, still chuckling. 

Peter went to open his door but it was stuck. “Why won’t it open?” He asked you innocently. You smirked as Peter struggled against the child locks that you had activated as soon as you both had gotten in the car. 

“I’m sorry Peter, but there is no way I’m going out in public with you looking like that.”

24 and 35 for Peter please?

24. “If I trip over one more of your shoes, I’m throwing them all away.”35. “I’ll just tell your mom on you.”_____________________________________________________________

“Dan Reynolds, put that down!” you yell across the chaotic apartment, rushing towards the mischievous seven year-old holding the kitchen knife. He grins at you and drops it on the floor with a clatter before rushing away to find another part of the home to wreak havoc on.

Whoever said babysitting is fun is a dirty liar.

Placing the knife safely back into the block, you turn around and look for where the little monster went. Then you hear a knock on the door. Groaning, you head towards the door, already thinking of how you’re going to tell Mrs. Reynolds that you can’t babysit anymore. You cry out when you trip over something just as you reach the door, and you place your hands against it to regain your balance.

Looking down, you see another one of Dan’s shoes. “Daniel, if I trip over one more of your shoes, I’m throwing them all away!”

With that said, you open the door, and are shocked to see a cute boy around your age, smiling softly down at you with his hands in his pockets. “Hey, I-I’m Peter. I live in the apartment next door.”

You smile bashfully up at him, internally wishing he didn’t see you in this state. “I’m (y/n).”

He smiles crookedly, and your heart melts a little. “So, you’re the Reynolds’ babysitter this week?” You nod. “That’s a crazy thing to take on. Do you mind if I come in?”

Shaking away your mindlessness, you open the door wider and allow him to enter. “Watch out for the shoes,” you warn.

Peter looks around the home, and a blush dusts your cheeks at the state of the apartment. “You know,” he says, “this is the best I’ve seen this apartment when sitters come.”

You scoff. “Seriously?”

He nods. “Daniel!”

“Peter!” You hear the little boy squeal before he comes flying around the corner in his pajamas (that you barely managed to get on him) and hugs Peter around the tops of his legs.

Peter laughs, and your mouth drops open in shock. “Hey, kiddo. Having fun?” Dan turns around and gives you his mischievous grin again and nods. You resist the urge to scowl down at him. “Good!” Peter exclaims. “But it’s time for you to go to bed, but first you have to put your shoes away like (y/n) said.”

Dan crosses his arms and fixes Peter with a glare. “But what if I don’t wanna?”

“I’ll just tell your mom on you.”

Dan’s eyes widen with shock and fear and he rushes away, beginning to pick up his shoes and put them on the rack by the door. You look up at Peter in shock. “How–”

“If there’s one thing you need to know about Dan, it’s that he’s terrified of his mother.” Peter laughs. “Kinda weird, actually, because his mom is the sweetest and,” he leans over and whispers, “spoils him rotten, if you can’t already tell.”

You laugh, and watch as Dan trudges toward his bedroom, mumbling a half-hearted “good night.” Peter and you say it back, and you finally get a good look at the apartment. “This is going to take forever to clean up,” you realize.

Peter glances over at you, and now, it’s his turn to blush. Your (h/l), (h/c) hair is thrown up in a messy ponytail with strands falling out, but he couldn’t care less. And your eyes are beautiful. He gulps and looks away before you notice him staring. You just might be one of the most beautiful girls he’s ever met.

“You know,” he starts, scratching the back of his neck. “I could stay and help you clean up.”

You look up at him and shake your head. “Oh, no no no, that won’t be necessary, you’ve helped enough already.”

“I don’t mind!” Peter insists, already moving to the kitchen and putting dishes in the sink. “With two of us, it shouldn’t take as long.”

Smiling, you move to the living area and begin to pick up the various toys and put them in a basket that the Reynolds’ keep for Dan. You and Peter make small talk as you work, and he’s right–it does go much faster than it would if it was just you. Sooner than you would have liked, the two of you are done cleaning, and you stand at the door together.

“It was really nice to meet you, Peter,” you say, smiling up at him. “And thank you so much for all of your help.”

“Anytime.” He grins. “The next time you babysit, I’ll be happy to come over again. The Reynolds’ know me, so I’m sure they don’t mind.”

Your heart drops–you weren’t planning on babysitting for Dan ever again–but flutters when you think about seeing Peter again. “Sounds good to me.” You smile.

Peter scratches the back of his neck. “So, um, could I, maybe, have your number? We could go see a movie sometime, or do something else, or…” He trails off, laughing as a blush comes over his cheeks. You’re blushing too.

“Sure,” you whisper, getting your phone out of your pocket. He smiles, and the two of you exchange numbers, before continuing your awkward stalemate by the door. He’s smiling adorably down at you, and you up at him. Neither of you want to leave quite yet.

Gathering your courage, you stand up on your toes and press a quick kiss to his cheek. “Bye, Peter.”

By now, he’s blushing madly. “Bye,” he whispers. You smile once more at him before shutting the door behind you. Leaning against it, you smile to yourself. There’s something about that boy.

Little do you know, he’s skipping back to his apartment, thinking the same thing.

First Impressions (Young! Loki X Young! Reader)

Words: 1634 Pronouns used: She/Her Warnings: fluff

Your POV “Come along (Y/n), this will be fun!” My mother squealed.

“Odin and Frigga have two boys around your age, now that I think about it.” My father followed up. I sighed and rested my hand against my chin, looking out the window of the carriage. “At least pretend to be excited when we get there.”

Putting on my best smile, I giggled. “Of course, father! Why wouldn’t I be excited?”

“That’s the spirit, dear.” The carriage came to an abrupt stop in front of a large castle. The driver helped us out while his assistant grabbed our luggage and carried it to the front door. A large, burly looking man opened the door and shook my fathers hand.

“Faas! Good to see you!” The man boomed. “And Alva, you still look as beautiful as ever.” (They are your parents)

“Odin, wonderful to see you too.” My father smiled. The two had been friends since childhood, and they hoped you and Odins sons would get along as well. A lady dressed in gold appeared behind him.

“Invite them in, Odin.” She said.

“Hello Frigga!” My mother practically sang. The lady ushered you in, and you gathered in the kitchen.

“Of course, you two know (Y/n).” My mom gushed.

“Oh, we haven’t seen you since you were a babe. If you wish, our sons are in the library.” Frigga smiled.

I thanked her and rushed out of the room, my dress flurrying behind me. I roamed the castle, peeking behind all the doors in attempt to find the library. I passed a room, poking my head in to see two boys. One was sitting in a chair reading, while the other was leaning on the back of the chair.

“Come on brother! Let’s spar!” The blond one whined.

“Thor, I’m trying read.” The black haired one replied.

“But Loki-”

“I’ll spar with you.” You interrupted. The two looked at you in surprise before Thor started to laugh.

“You? You are merely a girl!” Thor chuckled. “But if you really want to go, I’ll go easy.”

He led me to a room with matts on the floor and padded walling. Loki counted down, still engrossed in his book.

“Go.” Thor came towards you at full speed, attempting to take you down. I side stepped, taking his arm and flipping him which took him down for the count.

“I never thought a lady could be so… Manly!” Thor exclaimed. “I am Thor, and this is my brother, Loki. What may we call you?”

“(Y/n). (Y/n (l/n).” I laughed. “Say, could you show me back to the library? It was rather big and I’d love to look at what books you have.” Thors face fell, but he reluctantly led the way, Loki trailing behind us.

I grinned excitedly, thanking Thor before running off to find a book. “Aha!” You exclaimed, twenty minutes later, holding a midgardian book called ‘Romeo and Juliet.’ I began to climb down the extremely tall ladder, but it began to wobble, causing me to loose my footing. “oomph!” Was I dead? No, I couldn’t be. So how…? I opened my eyes and saw Loki holding me bridal style.

“You really should be more careful. You’ll get hurt if you keep being so reckless.” I’m sure in that moment, my face would put a tomato to shame.

“Thanks. Can you, uh, put me down now?” He set me down on the ground gently before going on his way. I found a chair in the room, sitting on it and beginning my book.

“Miss, dinner will be served soon. You’ve been requested by the sons of the household.” I looked up from my book at the maid.

“Of course. Would you mind showing me the way?” I asked.

“Not at all.”

Third person POV

That evening you sat under the covers on the guest bed, reading a book about constellations and midgard with a flash light. A knock on your door could be heard, but you were so caught up in the information that you didn’t hear it. The door creaked open, and a grumpy looking Loki walked in.

“I can see your light from across the hall, would you please go to bed?” He seethed.

You peeked out from under the covers and shone your light on him. “Sorry, but this book is really good!” He walked over and threw back the covers to reveal you and your book.

“You like Midgard?”

“Yes, it fascinates me! The constellations, their methods of buildings. Oh, my favorite era was the 1950’s!” You began to explain.

“Well one day, I’m gonna rule Midgard.” He grinned. “If you want, I’ll let you help me take over.”

“But we barely even know each other!”

“So? I’ll need a queen.”

You stared up at him and laughed. “Yeah, alright!”

The next day, you wandered down to the library with the large book, having agreed to meet Loki there last night. You heard girlish voices and a few deep chuckles coming from inside.

“Oh Thor, you’re so smart! Could you maybe help me with my homework?”

“Yes, me too?” Two girls sat on either side of Thor, pressing their cleavage up against him and looking ‘oh so lost.’ Loki sat across from them, back to you.

“Of course!” Laughed the blond. “I was always taught it is only polite to help ladies.”

You snorted and quietly walked behind Loki, throwing your arms around him.

“Hi Loki! Whatcha reading?”

“Hello princess (Y/n). It’s not of importance.” He shielded his book. You shrugged it off and sat down next to him and took out your book. The girls continued to press themselves onto Thor, and you could practically feel Loki’s annoyance of his brother getting all their attention.

“Loki, how do you say this?” You feigned stupidity. He raised a brow at you, but complied all the same.

“Eccentricity.”

“Right.” You said, bringing a finger to your lip. “And that means…”

“The measure of how an object’s orbit differs from a perfect circle. Eccentricity defines the shape of an object’s orbit.” He described. The girls eyes were now on him, and they whispered to one another. They got up from their current spots and shoved your seat away, sitting next to the black haired god.

“Wow Loki, you’re so smart!” Exclaimed one

“Yes, and handsome, too.” Said the other seductively. The boy began to bask in their attention, now ignoring you.

Looks like your plan worked too well.

Smiling sadly,you got up from the table and left the library, strolling through the gardens and occasionally meeting up with Thor throughout the rest of the day.

That night you slept soundly in your bed. That is, till someone shook you awake.

“What?” You groaned.

“Sh. I need you to come with me.” Loki whispered.

“Wh-”

“Just do it!” You were taken aback, but followed him all the same. He led you through the gardens into an open field where he sat down with a big book.

After a moment, you joined him in the wet grass.

“You said you liked stars, right? Well, that’s the constellation Orion, and that bright orange star is beetle juice. The one shaped like a pot is the Little Dipper, and if you look a little farther, you can see the Big Dipper.” He explained, pointing to each.

“Where’d you learn all this?” You asked, fascinated.

“The book I was reading earlier. Speaking of which, this is for you.” He slid you a large, leather bound book with gold lettering. “It’s all about Midgard and heavenly bodies. Thought you might like it.”

“Thanks!” He stiffened when you hugged him.

“You are very welcome.”

The two of you say like that for hours until you were falling asleep. He picked you up and carried you back to the castle, where he found two guards and his parents standing there.

“If you are going to blame someone, I’ll take it. I forced her out with me.” He explained sturdily. His parents sighed and Odin took the small sleeping girl back to her room. Frigga led Loki back to his.

Her words said, “We aren’t angry,”

But her face said “You’ve disappointed me.”

The boy didn’t sleep easily that night, knowing he was in trouble, and that he may have gotten his friend in trouble as well.

When he woke up the next morning, he found (Y/n) crying in the dining room as her parents punished her for her actions. He decided in order to no longer get her into trouble, he would keep away.

(Y/n) didn’t understand why he stopped talking to her out of the blue, but she did know that when she went home three days later, she was upset when he didn’t see her off.

“He didn’t even say goodbye!” She cried to her mother that evening, clutching her dress. The book he gave her sat on her bedside table, pages already worn from how many times she thumbed through it.

Her mother left the room not too long after, and the girl was alone once again, or so she thought.

“I’m sorry I didn’t see you off. I thought you would be angry with me for getting you in trouble.”

The (h/c) haired girl looked up. “L-Loki?” She sniffed.

“Only a projection, but yes, it’s me.”

(Y/n) began to laugh. “You idiot! Getting in trouble is worth it when you have fun.” She explained.

He threw her a confused look before grinning. “So we can still be friends?”

“Of course! My family and I will be visiting again soon. Could you tell me more about Midgard?” You pleaded.

Loki gave a soft smile. “If you wish, princess.”

:0

Hurts like hell (Steve Rogers x Reader)

Summary: Y/N and Steve used to secretely date when Steve dies and she had to deal with his death. Based by the song Hurts like hell by fleurie.

A/N:I love that song and I cried during this!

How can I say this without breaking?

You walked out of the cemetery and got in your car. You and Steve met each other four years ago when he woke up from the ice. Since then you loved each other but decided to do it secretely, away from the others. But he died. Yes, being an avenger meant sacrifing your life but you didn’t know it hurts like this.

You’ve seen him dying in front of your eyes and couldn’t do anything. He was by side your many times and saved you several times but you couldn’t return it. From then you only cried. No smiling or laughing. Yes, the others were sad too, but not like you were. You had to take Bucky, Sam and Wanda with you in the car. Wanda knew about you and Steve. She was the only one that could understand you this time.

“Y/N, we know you’re sad about Steve, we all are, but, you need to calm down.” Bucky told you grabbing your shoulder with his human arm.

How can I say this without taking over?

“I can’t, Bucky. Steve was my.. Friend. How can I calm down?” You couldn’t see well and you were tired.“Sam can you take the weel for me please? I’m not in position to drive right now.” He nodded and sat in the front sit. Wanda wrapped her arms around you to calm tou down.

How can I put it down into words?

“It was all my fault.” You murmured.

“No Y/n. It wasn’t your fault. Please stop saying that.” Sam said giving you a small smile and brushing circles with his fingers on your knee.

An image popped in your mind. Steve was returning from a mission back to the tower and you decided to go see of everything was alright. He was badly hurt and you cried. He reassured you with a hug and a kiss. “Y/n, love, it’s alright. I will never leave you. I will be here with you always” were his words. It made you cry even more. Your sobs filled the car.

When it’s almost too much for my soul alone.

The cars stopped outside of the tower leaving the twelve avengers move back to their dorms. Natasha and Clint sat at the kitchen talking, Tony, Bucky, Sam looked shocked. They just lost their friend and said the last goodbye to him. Bruce, Thor, James and The Vision were drinking their coffee to the balcony Steve loved and Pietro was sleeping in his room. Wanda helped you get in your room and then you locked all the doors so you could be alone.

I Loved and I loved and I lost you

Steve was the person for you. The man you trusted. The man you loved. And now you lost him. Since the day you met him he was kind and sweet with you. The day he passed away was the day you were going to tell the others about your relationship but never did. You remember not many things from that day. He stroked your cheek, kissed your lips, got out of the quinjet, fought, him laying in the ground murmuring that he loves you. After this everything went blank. Only tears.

And It hurts like hell

Was there life without him? Without his smile? Without his touch, his beautiful blue eyes looking into yours? His kisses and hugs? Oh no. Everything hurted and reminded you of him. Everytime you walked out of his room you stayed outside the door leaning against the wood. It still smelled like him. Everytime you walked to the gym his locker was there waiting for him to open it and grab his cold water but not anymore. Yesterday Tony replaced it with a collage of photos of all the Avengers with him. Your favorite was the one were you were together. The picture was taken the day the two of you got together.

Yeah it hurts like hell

You decided to open the radio. The music would calm you down, people said. It worked on Bruce the most of the times. But how could it calm you down when Steve’s and yours favorite song played? It was the song the two of you danced before he died. You were in his room when the song played and the two of you danced for hours. But moments like this don’t stay forever.

I don’t want them to know the secrets.

You remembered the talk you had with Steve. Two days before you lost him. You had a talk about how you would tell the team about you. About your love. Steve didn’t want to do something to bring you in a hard position. He wanted the best for you. But now he’s gone. Never coming back.

I don’t want them to know the way I loved you

You also had an argument. You would never forget that. He wanted to tell everything to the team about you. Make clear that you were his and nobody else’s. But you didn’t. You wanted them to start having hints. Like a treasure hunt. Love hunt.

I Loved and I loved and I lost you.

I Loved and I loved and I lost you.

And It hurts like hell

Dreams Fight with machines

He was at the hospital. Laying on that bed without moving. You touched him for the last time. Then he took his last breath. You shouted at the doctors to come and help but they couldn’t do anything. The next thing you remembered was the team trying to hold you from falling of the roof of the tower. They didn’t understand you.

Inside my head like adversaries.

Come wrestle me free. Clean from the war

Lost in your thoughts you started shouting, panicking now. The lock of the door didn’t stop Tony and Pietro bursting in to see what was going wrong. You were laying on the floor crying. They came next to you and helped you get up. Then they took you to the kitchen.“Y/N you haven’t eaten for days. Just eat something.” Pietro said offering you a bowl with cornflakes. “Y/N, you need to tell us what’s going wrong.” Tony asked. Can they understand me?No.

Your heart fits like a key.

Into the lock on the wall.

I turn it over, I turn it over

You walked out of the kitchen and stood to Steve’s balcony. Were you given your first kiss. Finally a place to be alone.

But I can’t escape.

Afraid that you would do something stupid like the first time Thor and Natasha took you in holding you and not leaving. They think I am crazy? I’ve lost it?. They sat you at the couch and started asking you question you couldn’t reply.

I turn it over, I turn it over

I Loved and I loved and I lost you

I Loved you and I loved and I lost you

I Loved and I loved and I lost you

Everyone was in shock. Noone was moving or talking. They just looked behind you. You looked around. Steve was behind you. Alive. You ran to his hug. Tears in your eyes. Then you kissed him deeply. The grip around you tightening.

“Hey sweetheart”

And It hurts like hell

Sleepover

Bucky Barnes/Reader

The Avengers tower was luxurious. The beds felt like actual clouds, there were light and sound systems in your room that you could adjust perfectly, and your apartment was so high up that you couldn’t hear the noises of the city, but still could see the stars. Your shower had been long and relaxing, as you could adjust the pressure just right. Your lights were off. You were in a somewhat comfortable position. So why the hell couldn’t you fall asleep?

Groaning in frustration, you got up and padded barefoot into your living room. The design of the whole little apartment (though it was missing a kitchen) was sleek and modern. You loved the atmosphere it set. Normally, you would feel right at home with these surroundings, and yet, you were just too worked up to sleep.

You chalked it up to still being relatively new here. You were already close to the avengers, but after an attack on your own home, they decided to move you into the tower. It was like a constant sleepover with good friends—but with a lot more weapons and fighting.

You stared at your clock for a moment. It was 11:30. Most of the avengers would already be asleep. Silently, you slipped out of your room, deciding to explore the tower more.

The level you lived on was just a hallway with two rooms. Steve lived beside you. A faint light shone from under his door, and a soft tune could be barely heard. You recognized it as an Elvis song.

You rolled your eyes. “Grandpa,” you whispered fondly under your breath before continuing down the hall.

You called the elevator, punching in the numbers for a few floors down. But the elevator started slowing to a stop a floor above your destination. You furrowed your brow in confusion. It was almost midnight—why would the other avengers be awake?

The metal doors slid open to reveal a very disheveled looking Bucky Barnes. He was clad in sweatpants and an iron man shirt, and his eyes squinted at the bright lights inside the elevator.

You hadn’t ever really talked to Bucky. He moved into the tower only a few days after you, but wasn’t much for conversation. You assumed he was getting over the traumatic experiences with Hydra—something all of the other avengers knew about, so they kept their distance. He was wary of everyone in the tower, though Steve tried to get him acclimated to living with all of them.

His blue eyes finally adjusted to the light and landed on you. You were also in pajamas.

“Can’t sleep?” He asked, raising an eyebrow.

You shook your head.

“Me either.” He stepped inside the elevator, and pushed the button to the same floor you were headed to. There were all sorts of rooms to poke around in down there.

You sat in awkward silence, contemplating your options. Bucky didn’t seem like the type to run around an empty floor at midnight. Then again, you didn’t really know what type he was. Eventually, your boredom got the best of you, and you said, “I’m gonna explore a bit. Want to come with?”

Bucky considered this for a moment, eyeing you levelly. “Tony keeps a stash of Oreos above the fridge,” he said finally. “We’re headed there first.”

You grinned at him. “Fair enough.”

“I can’t reach them!” You whispered harshly, jumping up and down in front of the fridge. Bucky was standing guard, just in case someone came down to this floor.

“Really? It’s not that high,” he said, obviously trying to hide the humor in his voice.

“Easy for you to say. I don’t have a super soldier serum! I’m normal human height!”

“Okay, I’ll get them—”

“No! I can do this!” Stubbornly, you looked around for anything to help you. “I’ll just climb on the counter. Just a sec—”

“Don’t, it’s slippery!”

Bucky’s warning was too late. You’d just pulled yourself onto the counter when you felt yourself slipping, falling fast toward the ground. Bucky was there in an instant, catching you right before you hit the floor.

You looked up at him, a mischievous grin overtaking your features. “Hey, guess what?” You said when you realized he was still holding you.

He raised his brow.

“I just fell for you!” You snickered at the pun as Bucky titled you upright again.

“You’re ridiculous.”

Quite a few Oreos later, the two of you wandered down the halls, having explored the rooms on that floor thoroughly. 

“Hey, wait a minute,” Bucky said, lightly grabbing your arm to stop you. The contact sent a small shiver through you. You told yourself it was a draft.

“Let’s go to a different floor,” you suggested. “Maybe one of the offices. We could scare a few late workers.” It was already past midnight, so you doubted anyone would still be there—but you were getting bored. “We’ve already explored everything on this floor.”

“Not everything.” He pointed to a small crawlspace in the wall.

“What? No way!” You shook your head.

“Scared?” He arched a brow.

“No!” You defended. “Just…I think it’s too small for your shoulders to fit. And I’m not going in alone.”

“I think you’d be surprised to learn what I can fit into, doll.” He sent a suggestive wink your way. Scoffing, you playfully pushed at his shoulder. You were glad the lights were off—you didn’t want him to see the way your cheeks heated up.

“Besides, it’s a bad idea. Haven’t you ever seen a horror movie? Going into a dark crawlspace is like, the number one way to die.”

Bucky frowned. “I don’t think I have seen a horror movie.”

You stopped. “What? Really?”

He shook his head. “I’m sure they played them at drive-ins in Brooklyn,” he said thoughtfully, “But I can’t remember watching one.”

Astounded, you instantly made up your mind. “That’s it! We’re watching a horror movie!” You declared, grabbing his hand.

Bucky stiffened. For a moment, you panicked. You remembered how he shied away from the other avenger’s attention, avoiding physical—or even social, for that matter—contact. You really didn’t want to make him uncomfortable. The night had been going so well.

But then he grinned at you, letting you lead him down the dark hallway of the tower.

“I don’t understand why we can’t just go down to the movie theatre. That’s what it’s there for!” Bucky exclaimed, shaking his head with an exasperated smile.

“I have no idea why Tony thought a movie theatre was necessary in the tower,” you stated. “Plus, it takes away from the experience! Here, hold this end down.”

Bucky grabbed the corner of one of his sheets, keeping it in place as you draped the other side across a few chairs. The blanket fort was your idea, but Bucky had brought down his own materials. He’d provide the blankets if you shared your snacks.

Standing upright, you dusted off your hands and nodded approvingly. “It’s perfect.” The conference room table had been moved out of the way, the chairs strategically placed to hold up your fort. The opening was wide enough to see the tv.

“How do we get in?” Bucky asked, eyeing the tent.

“The door’s over here!” You held up a blanket at the end of the fort. 

He took the blanket from you, motioning for you to go in. “Ladies first,” he grinned.

You complied, crawling into the tent while grumbling, “Don’t look at my ass, Barnes.”

“Wouldn’t dream of it,” he replied rather sarcastically.

Once Bucky had finally managed to crawl in, he looked around the fort. “What are you, some kind of blanket architect?”

“I’ve been building these ever since I can remember.” Using the remote to start the movie and turn the lights off (still a surprising feature to you), you settled in next to Bucky, nestling into the pillows and blankets you spread out on the floor. You opened a pack of candy and popped a piece into your mouth, content with how the night was going.

After a while, the movie was boring you. It was one you’d watched at least a thousand times. So, wanting something to do with your hands, you began to braid Bucky’s hair.

He didn’t flinch this time, but you saw his face twist with confusion. “…What are you doing?”

“Fishtailing,” you answered simply.

He nodded thoughtfully. “Oh.” A few moments of silence passed before he asked, “And what the hell does that mean?”

You smiled. “It’s a type of braid. Your hair is really soft, by the way. What shampoo do you you use?”

Instead of answering, he snorted. “You’re braiding my hair.”

Sitting up properly, you continued the braid, decided to make it wrap around his head. “This has got to be a real sleepover experience. Blanket fort, snacks, horror movie at 2 am, braiding hair, gossiping about friends…” You trailed off, watching his amused expression. “Actually, let’s skip that last one. I don’t want to gossip about people that can kill me.”

Bucky laughed, a smooth sound that contrasted so greatly with the man you first met a few days ago. Here, illuminated only by the tv, he didn’t look like the Winter Soldier. He just looked happy. You finished the braid, smiling at the finished product.

He sat up suddenly, earning a shout of protest when he almost knocked the fort down. “Teach me how,” he said.

He was suddenly very close, you realized. His lips were just inches from yours. You tried not to think about it.

“Teach you how?” You asked, internally wincing at how your voice wavered. He smirked, just the tiniest bit. “To braid. I’ll do yours.”

You grinned up at him. “I’ll show you.”

You took a small strand of your hair and separated it into thirds, demonstrating it for him. “Just cross it over into the middle each time. Like this.”

He nodded, studying the strand before moving behind you to start the braid. “So, over one to the middle…” He trailed off, sounding lost.

You giggled. “Here. I’ll help.” You rested your hands on his, guiding him through the steps.

Your felt his breaths on the back of your neck as he concentrated, trying once again not to think about how close he was. A small shiver ran down your back. You hoped he didn’t notice.

You didn’t realize how hyper-focused you were, because when a scream sounded from the film, you jumped with a startled yelp. However, with Bucky’s hands still in your hair, you didn’t get too far. The tug on your hair sent you falling backwards, straight into Bucky, who happened to be leaning on one of the fort’s support chairs. The whole thing collapsed on the two of you.

You groaned, your head still in Bucky’s lap. He lifted the sheets and looked down at you, quirking his brow in amusement. “You alright?” He asked, unable to keep the humor from his voice.

You nodded with a sheepish smile. “Guess I was just distracted,” you mumbled. “Sorry I ruined your braid.”

He leaned forward, hovering slightly above you. “I don’t mind,” he said, moving closer to you. “Truth is, I had a sister. I already knew how to braid.” He didn’t look the least bit apologetic.

You scoffed, feigning indignation. “You think you’re smooth?” You said, amused.

“No,” Bucky answered, so close you could feel his breath on your lips. “I know I am.” His hand moved to cup your face as he leaned down farther, finally closing the distance between the two of you. The kiss was slow at first, hesitant—but after a moment, you worked up enough courage to deepen the kiss, only breaking away from him to sit up properly.

When the two of you finally pulled away, breathless, Bucky rested his forehead against yours. The sheet was still wrapped around the two of you, keeping you close, and the movie credits were just coming to an end. You giggled at the absurdity of the situation. Here you sat, in a collapsed blanket fort with the winter soldier, who still had your braids in his hair.

“What’s so funny?” He asked.

You shook your head. “Just…haven’t had a sleepover like this before.” He chuckled, gently lacing his fingers with yours. You yawned, slouching slightly. “It’s already around 4 in the morning,” you said, a sleepy smile overtaking your features. “Want to just stay down here?”

He untangled the two of you from the sheet, returning your grin. “Fine by me, doll.”

You settled down into the heap of pillows and blankets, sighing contentedly as Bucky’s arms wrapped around you. You fell asleep almost instantly.

“Where the hell are my Oreos?” Tony stomped out of the kitchen, eyeing the avengers in the lounge. “Which one of you took them?”

Wanda put her hands up defensively, the rest of the group simply shook their heads.

“Maybe it was Bucky. Or Y/N,” Sam suggested.

“Speaking of which,” Nat asked, “Where is Y/N? We were gonna go for a jog.”

Tony, who had begun sulking back to the kitchen, froze in front of the door to the conference room. “Oh my god. Cap, at least your friend is warming up to one of us.” He immediately took out his phone, snapping a few pictures. Confused, Steve made his way over to Tony, raising his eyebrows in disbelief when he saw the scene before him.

The other avengers crowded around to see you on a nest of blankets and pillows, curled up in Bucky’s arms, sleeping peacefully. There were snacks all around you and an old case for a horror movie. Bucky’s hair was still in braids.

“Bucky was good at charming the ladies,” Steve said, shaking his head.

Tony cupped his hands around his mouth, ready to shout something to the two of you, when Natasha cuffed him on the back of the head. “Just let them sleep,” she said. “We can humiliate them later. I don’t want to have to deal with both of them being grumpy.”

“Fine,” Tony groaned. “But next time, they need to get their own damn Oreos.”

Are We Still Friends?

Pairing: Reader x Azriel

Summary: Worried about how his new relationship seems to be changing him, you talk to Azriel about your concerns. Things take a turn when he refuses to listen.

Warnings: some wine sipping, gossiping, angst, miscommunication, friend fighting, jealousy (but no one realizes), az being defensive and blind

Word Count: 5k

(Completed) Series Masterlist | Part Two

✹ ✶ 𖧷 ✶✹ 

“It’s not that I don’t like her.”

The words tasted as false as they were, and you grimaced the moment they slipped out, already bracing for the look Mor would throw your way. True to form, she didn’t disappoint, her expression halfway between amusement and exasperation.

A defeated sigh escaped as you accepted the glass of wine she offered, watching as she filled her own nearly to the brim.

“You’re better than me, then,” she hummed, settling back onto the couch across from you. “Because I don’t like her.”

You raised a brow. “You don’t like many people nowadays.”

She shrugged, casual as ever, though a smirk tugged at her lips. “True. I’m not exactly lining up for any peace medals, am I?”

You chuckled softly, leaning back in your chair. “I just… have this odd feeling about her, you know?”

Mor tilted her head, letting out a noncommittal hum. “Oh, I know. She drags Az around on a leash.”

You were tempted to say something about the irony in her words—remind her, in a loving manner, that she might've been guilty of that once upon a time, too. But you decided against it. She wasn't wrong.

You swirled the wine in your glass, watching the dark liquid move in slow, mesmerizing circles. The feeling wasn’t new; it had been there since the first time you’d met her. Azriel’s new girlfriend Selene was perfectly fine—charming, even. But there was something else, something you couldn’t quite name. Like a faint hum in the background of a quiet room, just irritating enough to notice but not enough to prove anything was wrong.

“Why don’t you talk to him?”

You glanced up, finding Mor’s bright brown eyes sharp and focused on you, the lazy humor of a moment ago gone.

“I doubt he’ll listen,” you admitted, resting the bottom of your glass on your thigh. “He didn’t listen to you.”

“That’s different.”

“It’s really not.”

Mor raised a brow like she wanted to argue, but she only sighed in response. “He’s been so weird about his love life. Gwyn didn’t work out. Elain’s probably the happiest out of all of us. Maybe he’s treading lightly.”

“Maybe,” you murmured, though you weren’t convinced.

Azriel had changed in small, almost imperceptible ways since everything had settled—since everyone had paired off and fallen in love. Everyone except you. And him.

You were fine with your situation, content in the quiet steadiness of your life. Azriel wasn’t. You knew it. He knew it, though he’d never admit it. So much of his self-worth was tangled up in whether he believed himself worthy of love. And the absence of it—of a solid, undeniable love in his life, of a partner, of a potential bond—seemed to weigh on him. To him, it wasn’t just an empty space; it was a failure.

You’d almost go as far as to say he’d become desperate, living in the shadows and watching his brothers experience loves so profound they might as well have been plucked from stories meant to inspire poets and dreamers.

Mating bonds were rare. You reminded yourself of that often. Your family was just an anomaly, their luck skewed impossibly high. But logic wasn’t enough to soothe Azriel, and it certainly wouldn’t stop him from chasing it. He was obsessive. Stubborn.

Nothing you said or did could change his perspective.

Mor’s voice pulled you out of your head again. “Speak of the devil,” she sang out. “Hi, Elain.”

Your gaze snapped up to the doorway, finding Elain standing just beyond the archway. She looked like a spooked deer, frozen in place with that polite smile you’d come to recognize as her default around company she hadn’t fully warmed up to yet.

“We were just talking about Azriel’s unfortunate romantic history,” Mor said smoothly. You glanced at Elain for her reaction.

It had taken time for that particular history to fade. Maybe it was appropriate to joke about now, but you personally would’ve waited a few more years before bringing it up so flippantly. Mor, however, had little patience for such niceties.

Elain’s expression didn’t shift beyond a faint flicker in her eyes, and you realized how much her composure had improved over the years. Then again, it had been a while since she and Lucien had found each other for good—long enough for their bond to solidify and for them to leave for the Day Court after their mating ceremony.

A twinge of jealousy sparked in you before you brushed it aside.

“We’re just gossiping in general. Want to join us?” you asked, gesturing to the chair beside you. Plush and inviting, it mirrored the one you sat on. “Unless Lucien is waiting for you upstairs?”

Elain’s cheeks flushed crimson. 

“Lucien’s still with Feyre, catching up,” she said, stepping further into the room. “What are you drinking?”

Mor reached for the bottle on the table, plucking it up and turning it in her hand to read the label.

“Something good and expensive,” she replied, with a half-hearted air of indulgence, before tilting her head at Elain with a faint grin.

“It’s from Rhys’s rather gluttonous collection,” you said, sensing Elain’s hesitation. “It won’t be missed at all.”

She smiled at that. “I’d love some.”

“There are a lot of glasses in that cabinet,” you said, pointing to the wood door with ornate carvings. “Grab whichever one you’d like.”

Mor sat up straighter, scooting herself back into the pillows behind her. You hummed, impressed, at her ability to hold both her full wine glass and the bottle without so much as a wobble.

You hadn’t spent much time with Elain one-on-one. Emissary duties had kept you busy during the years the Archeron sisters had adjusted to their new lives. But you liked Elain, from what you’d seen. She had a kind heart. She also had a sharp humor that surfaced at the oddest moments, usually when she and Lucien were whispering in corners, conspiratorial before seamlessly rejoining whatever social event they were at like they’d never left.

Elain returned and sat down with her chosen glass—a delicate crystal piece that gleamed in the soft light. Mor went to fill it instantly. 

“Can I ask why you were discussing Azriel’s romantic life?” Elain asked. Her voice was smooth, certain. No hesitation.

It didn’t faze her anymore, you realized—being such a strange, pivotal turning point in Azriel’s past experiences. She’d made peace with it, the way immortality seemed to demand. Time softened the edges of even the messiest situations, turning them into stories you could recount with startling detachment. Almost humorous, really.

Because how else could you explain being casual about the fact that your best friend had almost allowed his pride—and arrogance—and, somehow simultaneously, his insecurity—to lead him into a blood duel over Elain’s affections? A blood duel.

But now, it was just… something to write off. A distant memory, softened by the years and Lucien’s easy confidence. Lucien was better than you. You would’ve held that grudge against Azriel for many more years—long enough to make it a point of pride. But then again, Lucien had won everything he wanted in the end. He had the girl, the bond, the certainty that whatever lingering rivalry Azriel might feel was entirely one-sided.

It wasn’t important enough for Lucien to waste any more energy on.

You exchanged a glance with Mor, who arched a brow, clearly just as amused by Elain’s openness.

“Y/n doesn’t like his new girlfriend,” Mor said.

Your mouth fell open. “You don’t either.”

“True,” Mor agreed easily. She looked to Elain. “We don’t like her.”

“For clarification,” you said firmly, “I never said I didn’t like her.”

Mor laughed, sipping her wine with an amused grin.

Your face fell flat. “What?”

“Nothing,” she replied breezily. “But if you get a bad feeling about someone, that’s usually dislike.”

You resisted the urge to scowl, already turning over the guilt in your mind. You didn’t want to be that person—the kind who dismissed another female off the bat. Maybe your gut was wrong this time. Maybe her smile had reached her eyes, and you’d been too preoccupied to notice. Maybe her tone hadn’t been as assessing as you remembered, and you were projecting. You wanted to like her. You wanted to be happy for Azriel.

But he didn’t seem happy. He seemed distracted. Busy. Not himself.

And not the kind of busy you’d seen before—the methodical, obsessive focus he funneled into work or training. This was different, scattered in a way you couldn’t quite pin down. It had made sense in the beginning, when things were new and exciting, but now it was starting to feel uncomfortable. He’d started missing things—small things at first, like sparring sessions or those late-night conversations you, Mor, and him would have when you couldn’t sleep. Then came the bigger things. He’d stopped being able to review external court updates with you, even when those meetings were critical for your diplomatic roles.

Azriel had always been the one you could count on. Out of everyone, you considered him your closest friend—even more than Mor, though you’d never admit it out loud. But now it seemed like every time you made plans, Selene needed him more.

And then there was how fast it was all moving. Too fast. At a recent family dinner, she’d casually mentioned that she and Azriel could move in together—offhand, like it was the most obvious next step. Something about leaving the townhouse behind, creating a space with décor that matched her aesthetic. Azriel had just stayed quiet, looked at her like she’d just proposed the most brilliant idea in existence.

You noticed he did that. The way he looked at her. The way he’d looked at Elain and Gwyn back when they were seeing each other. It weirded you out—that tendency to put the people he saw as romantic interests on a pedestal, as though they were flawless. As though they were something he didn’t deserve.

You knew where it came from. That deep-rooted insecurity that even centuries hadn’t managed to erase. He didn’t see it, the way he wore himself down trying to prove his worth to people who, for the most part, had already accepted him. But you saw it. You always had.

And it made it harder to like Selene. To trust her intentions. Maybe that was unfair, but you couldn’t help but feel like she was just taking—taking all the parts of Azriel that used to be all of yours to share, and twisting them into something else. Something that didn’t include his family.

Still, you wanted to try. To let go of the gnawing irritation in your chest and convince yourself it didn’t matter. If she made him happy—truly happy—then none of it should matter. You were adamant on ensuring that you didn’t turn into the stereotypical overbearing female best friend.

Elain tapped her glass lightly. “Lucien doesn’t like her.”

You blinked back into reality. “Really?”

She nodded, a beat passing before she added, “To be honest, I’m not sure I do either.”

Mor leaned forward, grinning like she’d been handed a stack of gold. You almost wished Amren was here to bask in the moment. Amren didn’t like Azriel’s girlfriend, either. Maybe your family really was as unwelcoming as people claimed. Or maybe Selene simply brought out another level of scrutiny. The thought of either option made you feel bad— gross. 

“Why?” Mor asked.

“She was dismissive toward Lucien. And,” Elain hesitated, her brow furrowing slightly, “She seemed… entitled, I suppose. Especially with Azriel. Like she expected him to accommodate her every whim.”

You frowned, turning over her words. “I’m sure she was just nervous. We can be an intimidating group. Maybe she just needs time to settle in. We just want Az to be happy, right? So, if she makes him happy, then I’m absolutely fine with her.”

The silence that followed was thick. For a moment, you wondered if you’d said something wrong. Something weird.

“Are you?” Elain asked, her tone sincere.

“Are you?” Mor echoed at the same time, voice dripping with sarcasm.

You shot Mor a glare, but she only raised her brows and sipped her wine again, infuriatingly unbothered. Exhaling, you willed yourself to meet Elain’s gaze.

“I am,” you said, trying for conviction. “Really.”

Elain pursed her lips. Her gaze shifted to Mor, lingering longer than you liked, and then back to you.

“Alright,” she hummed. “I guess I was wrong.”

You stilled. Elain reclined deeper into her seat, accepting a refill from Mor. Her wine glass remained only half-full compared to yours and Mor’s.

Curiosity burned. You leaned forward. “What do you mean?”

Elain furrowed her brows. “What do I mean about what?”

“You said you guess you were wrong. What does that mean?”

Mor’s gaze bored into the side of your face. Any second now, you were sure she’d make some quip about how bothered you were. But you weren’t bothered. Just curious.

Elain swirled her wine, watching the light catch the liquid. “I’m not sure. Things feel off. Like something’s coming. Az needs help with it, I think.”

You froze. “Off? Like—how?”

She hesitated, thoughtful. “It’s hard to explain,” she murmured, her voice quieter now. “But I feel it. In my chest. My visions sometimes do that. That’s why I asked.”

Well, that unsettled you. You glanced at Mor, whose amused grin had fallen into something more contemplative.

It seemed you might need to have a conversation with Azriel after all.

“I don’t like that,” you admitted, your nose crinkling. 

“I think I heard him get back earlier. Go talk to him,” Mor said, her tone gentler now, though a hint of mischief lingered in her eyes. You didn’t read too much into that. Mor’s eyes tended to be expressive. She also tended to be mischievous when her blood was primarily red wine. 

“Okay,” you said. “Maybe just to check in.”

Elain nodded. “Just to check in,” she echoed, almost reassuring.

“Have fun,” Mor added, her grin returning just enough to be annoying, but not enough to distract you from the unease curling in your chest.

You didn’t respond, instead taking another slow sip of your drink. The glass clinked softly as you set it down on the table before you made your way upstairs.

After a moment of comfortable silence, Mor turned to Elain. “Did you really feel something that unsettling?”

Elain let out a laugh. “No,” she said lightly. “I completely made that up. But she doesn’t need to know that.”

Mor’s lips curled into a slow, wicked smile. Seconds later, her head tilted back in a laugh just as vibrant as it was unapologetic.

“Genius,” she declared, raising her glass in mock salute.

✹ ✶ 𖧷 ✶✹ 

The walk upstairs was quiet.

The townhome, in general, was quieter nowadays. Aside from the times others came to visit—like Lucien and Elain—only you and Azriel lived here full time.

When you reached Azriel’s bedroom door, your steps faltered for a moment. There was a hesitation in you that hadn't existed before. You raised your hand to knock, but the action felt more awkward than usual. It made you sad, momentarily, that you hesitated. You never second-guessed yourself with Azriel. You wanted to tread carefully in this new era of his life, though. You didn’t want to overstep, to become a nuisance. But whatever this was—whatever had unsettled Elain enough to mention it—you needed to know. Azriel had always been a constant for you, and if something felt “off,” you wanted to understand why.

Your knuckles rapped lightly on the door. “Az?” 

Inside, you heard the shuffle of movement, followed by his low, familiar voice. “Come in.”

You didn’t see Azriel immediately, but the smell of soap and the damp air told you that he recently showered. Shadows slithered across the floor, comfortable and excited, exploring the familiar confines of his room.

You greeted the tendrils as you usually did, letting them brush against your legs as you flopped onto his bed. The bed, like everything else in his room, was simple: plain black sheets, no extravagant pillows, just the bare necessities. It used to drive you mad, the emptiness of it all.  But what was in his room spoke volumes—— bare walls except for a dagger mount on one side, a small uncluttered desk with a well-worn sharpening stone. 

Azriel exiting the bathroom pulled your attention, your eyes settling on him as he rubbed his wet hair thoroughly with a towel. He shook his head slightly, wet curls bouncing onto his forehead, and met your gaze. His eyes flicked to where you lay, scanning your body. He nodded toward your feet.

“C’mon,” he almost whined. “No shoes on the bed.”

You looked down at yourself, grimacing as you realized that your shoes were, indeed, on his clean comforter. A simple set of house slippers, so nothing entirely too dirty, but it had completely slipped your mind. Very comfortable shoes, you noted, maybe you’d get Feyre a pair as a solstice gift.

“Oh whoops,” you said with an apologetic smile. “My bad, clean freak.”

He rolled his eyes, but you caught the quirk of his lips anyways.

For a moment, the old sense of comfort settled over you. But then, a thought crept in—the thought that maybe you shouldn’t lie on his bed like this anymore. It had been fine before, but now… now it felt different. He had someone else in his life. It wasn’t weird, exactly, but it was a little inappropriate.

You sat up straighter.

“Did you and Mor grow tired of rehashing the same centuries old gossip?” He teased.

You snorted, watching as his shadows flitted above his shoulders. They were amused, laughing in their own way. “Never,” you responded, pushing yourself off his bed. You were drawn to the otherside of his room, to the simple dresser against the wall. “Elain joined us this time.”

Your back was to him, but you had a feeling that the momentary silence, the stillness that you felt, was a knee-jerk reaction from Azriel—something reminiscent of embarrassment, shame, or guilt at her name. But all he responded was, “Oh?”

“I like her,” you said, brushing a strand of hair behind your ear. “I kinda wish I spent more time with her…”

You paused, your words trailing off quietly as you took in the small details before you. 

Azriel’s dresser had always been the one surface he decorated, not because he cared for decoration, but because it was the only surface large enough to hold anything. Over the years, it had become a quiet testament to the things that mattered to him: a mix of Solstice and birthday gifts, trinkets you’d both collected on missions and trips. You liked seeing what had changed, what had been added. It gave you a glimpse into where Azriel had been, who had been with him. 

Lately, there had been more—more trinkets, more oddities that stood in stark contrast to the weapons displayed elsewhere, the ones mostly hidden away in his closet. A macaroni necklace from Nyx. A horribly made clay version of him you’d created during a drunken pottery night with Feyre, Mor, and Amren.

But now, the dresser was foreign. The once familiar surface had been wiped clean, replaced by delicate perfume bottles, jewelry that looked too fine to be his, and a candle that smelled—oddly—like the puke of a flower faerie. Some of it was new. Most of it was hers.

Azriel’s presence had vanished from his own furniture entirely.

“Huh.”

“What?” Azriel asked.

You glanced over your shoulder. “I see you’ve decorated more.”

Azriel tilted his head, and a few of his shadows slithered down his body, crossing the room to pool around your ankles. “I guess,” he said. “Selene said my room needed more life.”

You leaned forward, brushing your fingers along the ceramic jewelry dish, the cool surface sending a strange chill through your skin. The shadows flickered over your hand, almost as if they were inspecting it too. They moved with purpose, then slowly obscured it, hiding it from view.

You frowned, confused.

Azriel, still silent, was rifling through his closet. You could feel the weight of his eyes on you as he moved, but he said nothing. The shadows returned to his side as you turned to look at him.

"Are you going somewhere?" you asked, trying to break the silence.

Now, Azriel barely spared you a glance.

“Yeah. Meeting Selene,” he replied simply.

After a few seconds of silence, Azriel turned his head and properly held your gaze. “Why? Everything okay?”

“Yeah, yeah,” you responded with a casual wave of your hand, but Elain’s words echoed in your mind. You cleared your throat. “Well, actually, no. I was hoping I could talk to you.”

He frowned, standing up straighter, his wings flexing with the motion. “Is it something serious?”

You paused, carefully filtering through your words. “No, just something that’s been on my mind.”

Azriel studied you, doubt flickering in his hazel eyes. It was the kind of look that always made you feel like he was reading you too easily. He probably didn’t believe you, not entirely—but he nodded anyway. His lips curved into a small, apologetic smile. “Raincheck then?”

You mirrored his smile, though it felt thin. “Yeah, sure. We can talk tomorrow, once we’re back from the Hewn City.”

Azriel stilled. The way his gaze dropped to the floor and lingered felt like a guilty dog, an animal caught in an act forbidden. “Shit,” he said, his tone cautious. “I can’t go.”

You blinked, the words taking a moment to settle. “Seriously? Az, Rhys is expecting an update.”

“I’m sorry.” He sounded sincere enough. It didn’t matter. “But you can handle it on your own, you know this.” 

“Are you serious?” you said, the hurt slipping out before you could stop it. “I don’t want to deal with Keir alone.”

Azriel sighed, running a hand through his hair. “I’ll talk to Rhys, but Selene’s been wanting to—”

“Never mind,” you cut him off, shaking your head. You forced a smile. “Have fun tonight. And tomorrow.”

Azriel scanned your face. After another moment of silence, he sighed.

“Okay, what is it?” He asked, crossing his arms over his chest. “You clearly have something on your mind. Tell me.”

You hesitated, holding his gaze. “I actually wanted to talk to you about Selene.”

Azriel’s jaw tightened instantly. He looked away, his tongue running across his teeth as he shook his head. “Not you too. Don’t be like this.”

Your frown deepened, offended by the immediate shift in tone. “Be like what? I haven’t even said anything yet.”

He met your eyes again, his stare almost challenging. “We both know what you’re going to say.”

“Do we?”

“First Mor, then Nesta, and now you.” His voice was sharp, but not loud. “Should I be concerned that the females in my life are so quick to rally against my girlfriend?”

You scoffed, crossing your arms to mirror his pose. “Well, yeah, Az. Maybe you should be.”

He rolled his eyes, the shadows at his feet flickering with the motion. “Fine. What do you want to tell me, then?”

For a moment, you hesitated, the words lingering on the edge of your tongue. Azriel had always been good at looking through you, unraveling thoughts you hadn’t fully formed yet. And now, under the weight of his sharp gaze, you felt exposed.

“I just want to make sure you’re happy.”

Something flickered in his expression, quick and fleeting—too fast for you to decipher. For the first time in a long while, Azriel felt unreadable, like he’d drawn a curtain between himself and you. “Really?” he asked, his tone tight, almost incredulous.

You faltered, a small thread of doubt weaving its way through your resolve. Was he happy? Would he even tell you if he wasn’t?

“Yes, really,” you replied, a defensive edge creeping into your voice. “You’ve been distant lately. Running around at her beck and call. None of us know her. I want to understand what’s going on with you. I want to understand her.”

Azriel’s wings shifted again, his gaze hardening.

“I want to make sure this is the kind of relationship you want,” you finished, quieter now.

The room fell into silence, heavy and still. Azriel watched you as if he was turning your words over and over in his mind. You waited, unsure of what to expect—if anything at all.

“I wouldn’t be in a relationship I didn’t want. Can we drop it, please.”

You bit the inside of your cheek. What a strange, dismissive answer. It bothered you— bothered you more than anything he’d ever told you before. 

“Az, I just don’t want you to change who you are for someone. You don’t need to cater to her every whim.”

His expression darkened, shadows curling tighter around his boots. “I’m her boyfriend. I do what she asks.”

You raised an eyebrow, unable to stop the scoff that slipped out. Azriel had never been so clipped with you. “That’s not the definition of a boyfriend. That’s the definition of a bitch.”

Azriel’s jaw clenched, his wings flaring in irritation. “Excuse me?”  His voice cut through the room. “Do you really think I’m some incompetent love-sick loser?”

“I think you stop seeing flaws in the people you love.”

The words hung between you, heavier than you’d anticipated. A small part of you wondered if “love” was the word Azriel would use to describe his feelings for her. Another part worried that he didn’t correct you.

“That’s not true.”

“It’s not?”

“No,” he snapped. “I can clearly see that you’re being unfair. Quick to judge, much like Mor. That’s a flaw.”

“Oh, please,” you shot back, “You know what I meant. The people you’re infatuated with—”

“Where is this sudden concern coming from?” he interrupted, his shadows now beginning to curl between you like restless mediators, unsure where to settle. “Are you trying to cause issues?”

Something ran hot through your body.

“Seriously? I’m talking to you about this because I care. Because Elain had some cryptic feeling about you—”

“Elain is involved in this conversation, too?” His voice dripped with frustration now. “Gods, Y/n, should I send word for Gwyn while we’re at it? Get her opinion?”

“What the hell has gotten into you?” You took an authoritative step forward.  “I’ve never judged you. I’ve always tried to support you and your messy love life, no matter how complicated. Don’t you trust me, Azriel? As a friend?”

Azriel didn’t respond immediately, his shadows flickering uncertainly, still deciding whether to retreat or rise.

You gestured around the room. “Look at this place. You’ve erased all traces of your family—of you, of us. Where did you even put—”

“Oh, gods.” Azriel’s voice broke through, and for a moment, you thought he might crumble. His wings folded, and his hand dragged across his face, the weight of his exhaustion sinking in. “She was right.”

You froze. “What?”

Azriel met your gaze, his eyes hesitant for a heartbeat before turning sharp. “About you. Selene said you were jealous. That you had feelings for me.”

The words hit like a slap, and your world tilted on its axis. “What?” you asked again, your voice breaking on the word. Maybe you had misheard him. Maybe he had misspoken.

“I told her she was wrong. But now…” He let the sentence hang in the air, searching your face for something that maybe wasn’t even there.

“Now, what?” Your voice rose, tinged with anger. “You think I’m here because I’m jealous? Because I have some… crush on you?”

His wings flared slightly at your tone, but he didn’t back down. “I don’t know. It’s just—why else would you care so much about this?”

Your stomach twisted, a deep, cold ache settling there. “Why else?” you repeated, the words bitter on your tongue. “Because I care about you, Azriel. Because you’ve been my friend for centuries. Are you seriously confused about this?” 

For a moment, Azriel’s expression faltered, but he didn’t apologize. Instead, he said, “I didn’t ask you to care about my love life.”

“You didn’t have to,” you snapped, stepping closer. “That’s what friends do. But you’re standing there, letting her perception of me—someone who doesn’t even know me—warp your judgment. You’ve known me longer than that. Or at least, I thought you did. And the fact that you’d entertain this—” You stopped, shaking your head. “It’s insulting.”

Azriel said nothing. He just stood there, shadows now curling tighter around him. 

You had no idea how this conversation had gotten away from you, no idea how it turned into this—where this defensiveness, this anger, had come from. This wasn’t Azriel. Loyal, overly so. Impulsive. Protective. 

Or maybe it was. Maybe that loyalty was directed at someone else now—someone who clearly saw you as something threatening. You’d never been on the other side of Azriel before. Never thought you’d see the day. The realization hit like a slap to the face, leaving you shocked, stunned, a pit opening in your stomach that felt too deep to climb out of.

“You know what? Forget it.” You stepped back, the fight draining out of you all at once.

Azriel’s brows furrowed. “Really? That’s it?”

You glanced at him over your shoulder, your lips curving into something that might have been a smile if it weren’t so bitter. “Yeah,” you said, your voice flat. “That’s it.”

You turned for the door, hand on the handle, but paused. The words were out of your mouth before you could stop them, sharp and pointed, a petty jab that felt equal parts satisfying and hollow. “Make sure to lock this door when you leave—I’d hate to accidentally stumble back in and throw myself at you.”

Azriel stiffened, his wings snapping taut behind him. For a brief second, you thought he might say something, anything. But he didn’t.

You closed the door behind you with a heavy thud.

✹ ✶ 𖧷 ✶✹ 

authors note: no one tell them they probs have feelings for each other bc they’ll probably fight you (also elains moment is so self indulgent bc i would totally be making shit up based off my powers. like yeah actually you can’t be mean to be :/ powers are saying you’ll die if you are)

Part Two

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azriel tag list 🫶🏻:@thisiskaylin @serrendiipty @acourtofsteelandthunder  @mortqlprojections @ushijima-stits @honethatty12

Great

Home - a Captain America/Steggy fanfic

WARNING: CHARACTER DEATH

So I had this idea after seeing the trailer for Civil War, and some people saying Steve might actually die. And I wondered, can a super soldier die? And what goes through Steve Rogers’ mind, when he realizes he’s dying? Morbid, I know, but then I thought of something that could be done for him, by someone on his team, in the last minutes of his life (Just a warning that I didn’t do too much research on this person’s powers, just based it off of the MCU ‘verse).

Also, this scene resonated with me, and heavily influences this story:

Rating: K

Words: 638

Summary: In which we find out that super soldiers can die, and a priceless gift is given.

WARNING: CHARACTER DEATH

Czytaj dalej

Sourced from FnC Facebook page. Details of cosplay can be found via link. http://ift.tt/1RtZFOr Powered by IFTTT