For @spoonking-andmasterofyoursoul…song Is “Gasoline” By Halsey. Such A Good Song, By The Way.

bucky who can’t quite seem to get over the fact he can pick up mjolnir even though it’s been a good three months since the first time he accidentally plucked it from the ground in avenger’s tower. the hammer itself always seems to be in the most random of places and bucky will walk over to it whenever the opportunity comes along and look around to make sure no one is watching before picking it up again as it expecting one day that he won’t be able to lift it again. except every time it comes off the ground without hesitation and he grins like an absolute idiot because it means more to him than it probably should just that mjolnir deems him worthy at all so that must mean there’s something good about him, right?

and of course tony eventually asks why thor leaves his hammer just sitting around the place and thor simply smiles and says, “because it helps where i cannot.”

and nobody knows exactly what he means by that

i will not ask you why you were creeping (in some sad way i already know)

this is part three to this azriel and his best friend fic :)

azriel x reader

word count: 5.8k

warnings: mentions of bad family dynamics and childhood trauma, mentions of canon typical violence

summary: starfall has passed, but the revelations of the night keep her anxious and a little embarrassed. there's nothing like having a best friend to ease all your worries - until he goes on a mission, that is

a/n: here it is finally!! I hope you enjoy it and make sure to let me know what you think :) all feedback is welcome! if you want to be added to the taglist let me know here

“Oh, he did not say that!”

“I swear to the Mother, Az! And he looked so pompous too!” a rare laugh bubbled out of the shadowsinger’s lips. He was sitting up over the navy blue covers of his bed, almost doubled over, his stomach hurting from laughter.

“I cannot believe you kept this story from me for a full week” she giggled in response.

The pair of best friends were currently locked inside Azriel’s bedchambers, after she came running into his room about an hour earlier with one groaned out in exasperation explanation - “Cassian and Nesta,” she had practically growled out while throwing herself head first into his pillows “again! It’s the fifth time this week!”

The cause for her visit in his chambers may have been out of a need to escape the sounds that the mated pair made, but Azriel welcomed her with open arms and a big smile, as always. That was one thing about her best friend - there was always some form of smile on his face, each time he saw her.

It was special, that he reserved those moments for her only - and their other family members too - sweet, even.

“You got any other recent stories from your studio for me?” Azriel asked with a quirked eyebrow as he settled back against his bed, biting on one of the freshly baked cookies she had brought with her.

“Not really, you know. Starfall season is over so there’s not that many customers now” she had opened up a dressmaker studio a few decades earlier, despite Azriel’s insistence that she did not have to work, that Rhysand had enough money to support her.

But she had wanted to work.

She never had the chance to before and even though it initially came as another piece of defiance against her parents - she had a need for many of those when she first fled her hometown - it quickly became a great passion of hers.

Dresses were one of the few things from her old life that she did really love, despite how poorly she used to make them for the first few years. She’s pretty sure Rhysand had spent more money to keep it open than the shop actually made. He would never admit it to her though. Now, however, she was one of the most renowned dressmakers in Velaris.

She still pictured her parents' faces if they found out she was a working female now. This was one of the few things they couldn’t bring her down about.

Yes, it was outrageous that a highborn female like her chose to work - with her hands too - but she was successful at what she did. They could insult her about it all they liked, but they couldn’t take her skills away from her.

Sometimes it felt like a sole proof that she could do well in life without them, without their money and prospects and marriage and the golden cage she had spent her youth in.

Sometimes it felt like a lifeline to hold onto, when anxiety and guilt wrecked her guts.

She was still, so, so embarrassed about starfall. She woke up the morning after already dreading seeing Azriel again after he saw her fall apart like that.

Despite it not being the first time. Despite it likely not being the last time either.

But he acted as though nothing had happened - took her out to breakfast before helping her tidy up the studio for opening in a few days.

She knew that the good weeks now were like sunlight before the storm. She could feel the unease already brewing deep inside her. The two months mark would be here soon and- she didn’t even want to think about the mess that would follow.

Azriel knew. Of course he did.

He acted calmly, though, maybe so she could anchor herself to him, try and mirror his behaviour. He made sure she knew he was there for her, offering more long flights over the Velaris skyline than usual or bringing her new fruit flavoured pastries from a bakery down the street to her studio.

Only he could act like that and make it not feel like pity.

She didn’t know how to express gratitude, so she resolved to baking. Example: the cookies they were both currently snacking on.

She had just finished hers and now she lay flat on her stomach, playing with the shadows curling around her fingers.

“They’re so cute” Azriel visibly stopped in his tracks, the hand holding his cookie up to his mouth freezing

“Excuse me?” she glanced up at him

“Your shadows. They’re cute” her eyes momentarily gained focus after sensing Az’s startled reaction, a hint of sharp amusement awakening in them. He opened his mouth to argue, but before he could say anything, his shadows just about tripled in quantity. Curling and brushing around her whole body, twining around her fingers and lifting individual strands of her hair into the air.

Her eyes widened and she let out a giggle.

“Stop this. Right now.”

“I’m not even doing anything!”

“You know exactly what you’re doing” she burst out laughing at that, genuine joy shining off her eyes

“I’m not doing shit, it’s them!” and Azriel was shaking his head, nothing but fondness in his eyes as he looked at her, laying there in his sheets and blankets, catered to by his shadows. Something akin to a string pulled at his rib.

Eventually, Azriel spoke “Fine” he shrugged his shoulders and brought the cookie back up to his mouth to bite. t was intimate to see him so at ease. Laying in bed, posture and body fully relaxed shadows leisurely curling around the entirety of the room. It was vulnerable how safe they both were in each other’s presence.

“Fine?”

“You’re their favorite. Can’t argue with that” he said between chews.

She gasped, quirking up, legs bent and kicking in the air. “You really think so?” Azriel laughed softly.

“Of course I do”

She pursed her lips, and poked her cheek with her tongue in contemplation. Finally, she huffed “You’re making me blush so we’re changing the subject,” he was shaking his head again, smiling softly at her, arms bent behind his head, resting against the headboard.

“Any missions this week?”

“Yeah. One in the continent. Tomorrow” a bit of loaded silence followed, and then

“What? Really?” his eyes softened when he noticed how she visibly deflated. She stopped kicking her legs, the fingers playing with his shadows stilling their movement too.

“I just found out today, sweetheart. But it should only last one day”

“Yeah, okay then” she moved up the bed to sit next to him, moonlight reflecting against her nightgown “Promise you’ll be careful?”

Azriel could swear something even the Mother herself could not explain was happening to his heart.

His fingers clenched and unclenched as he fought the urge to do something. Gods, he was barely able to breathe when the sweet scent of her shampoo hit his nose and there she was kneeling next to him like it was nothing.

Green eyes wide, hopeful and waiting looking up at him and golden-brown curls cascading down her shoulders and over her breasts.

She was in his bed, covered in his scent, shadows and blankets, clad in nothing but a nightgown after bringing him godsdamned cookies to eat.

How was he expected to function properly?

Her full lips parted when he brushed a strand of hair behind her ear.

“Of course I promise, angel,” Azriel replied with a raspy voice. And with that, the night went on.

After a while, her movements started to become slower, sluggish even. Sleepy girl.

“Tired?” she only nodded.

He sometimes wondered whether the reason behind how often she became sleepy when next to him was because she felt safe.

Mother, he hoped it was.

The alternative was far more daunting and sent a spike of alarm through his mind - was she overworking herself at the studio? No, surely his shadows would have informed him of that.

“Want me to walk you to your room?” his heart clenched awaiting her response, before immediately warming up when she said:

“What, you won't let me sleep here? No sympathetic cuddle for your best friend?” her smile was sheepish as she already lowered herself onto the pillow he usually slept on.

Azriel chuckled, laying down next to her, bringing the covers and a wing to keep her ever chilly body warm.

“All the cuddles my best friend wants, she gets”

“Wake up,” there was a voice disturbing her sleep. Azriel’s voice. “Sweetheart. Wake up”

“Leave me alone”

A chuckle escaped Azriel’s lips as he crouched in front of his bed. He let her sleep in when he sneaked out of bed earlier to get ready for his mission.

Partially because he had wanted to let her sleep in, and partially because she turned into a demon whenever someone tried to wake her up.

“Come on, angel,” he brushed a hand down her hair. She was laying on her side, facing him, features relaxed.

A familiar feeling warmed his chest to see her like that. And he hated that he had to leave, that he couldn’t get under the covers next to her and-. He has work to do.

Azriel tried again in a soft, warm tone “Open your eyes”

The groan she let out was bordering on growling “Seriously Azriel if you don’t-”

“I have to go”

A bit of silence ensued, her brow furrowed and then she was groaning again, turning onto her back. “Your mission wouldn’t get ruined if you slept for an extra hour, for Mother’s sake”

He didn’t say anything, waiting for her to open her eyes.

After a few seconds she scooted closer to him, but stayed on the bed. She draped her arms around his neck, resting her head on his shoulder, barely awake.

Sleepy, grumpy girl.

The movement made him sway and spread out his wings to balance himself. Absent-mindedly, he buried his nose in her hair.

“Be careful. And come back to me quickly, alright?”

“Alright. I promise”

She slowly raised herself up onto her elbows, eyes lidded, still half asleep, movements slow. “M’ sorry if I was mean”

“You were actually quite nice. For your standards”

“Hmph”

“Go back to sleep. I’ll be back for dinner” before his sentence was out, she had already laid back on the bed and snuggled her face into his pillow.

“M-” she yawned, eyes drifting close “Mkay”

After sparing one lengthy glance at her soundly sleeping form in his sheets, Azriel was out the door to meet Rhysand who would give him some final instructions.

He would also give him shit for making him wait for the extra fifteen minutes that the spymaster spent trying to coax his best friend awake.

He wouldn’t pay it any mind.

The day at the studio was incredibly boring, as she had expected. The post-starfall lull came every year without fail.

At one point she had considered closing shop for the day, but working seemed to be good on her mind.

Working meant she didn’t worry about her parents, and about Azriel. Who hadn’t even told her what his mission was about. Or where exactly it was.

Was it because she had talked over him so much that he hadn’t even had the chance? Gods, she hoped not. And she hoped he wasn’t offended she fell asleep on him mid-conversation, again.

It kept happening and she wanted to stay awake for longer to spend more time with him, the Mother knew she did, but her eyes always closed on their own accord. Which was especially strange considering that for most of her youth, she had huge trouble with sleep.

Whether it was waking up in terror in the dead of night, or being unable to fall asleep at all - she had dreaded almost every nightfall back in her family estate. Even though it was the only time she could ever really be herself - unjudged and unguarded.

She shook her head - those years were well past her.

Well, she hoped so, at least.

The day passed quickly - she spent it starting up on some projects that she may or may not finish just in time for spring to arrive.

Except for when a few customers came in, the quiet of the shop had been filled with her soft humming. And a little bit of talking to herself.

Well, not entirely to herself. She spoke to the shadow that Azriel always left with her when he left on missions. Or the shadow stayed behind on its own whim, as her best friend never mentioned leaving it with her.

Either way, with Azriel away, it was the sole subject of her babbling. Up until afternoon, that is, when Elain Archeron came into the shop.

She was alerted with the presence of a new customer, courtesy of the bell hanging over the door.

“Just a second! I’ll be right there!” she squealed out from the backroom. She hadn’t expected any more customers today, especially so near closing.

“Oh, it’s alright!” came a soft voice from the main room of the shop “Take your time”

“Oh, hi Elain!” she said walking to greet her friend “What brings you here?”

“I was just running some errands and wanted to check up on you” if even Elain of all people resorted to this gentle handling and coddling her, then she didn’t even want to imagine what would go down on dinner tonight.

They all still talked about starfall, then.

She appreciated the worry, she really did, but frankly there was nothing for them to do. And she couldn’t ask a High Lord to send out a letter telling her father to frankly, fuck off. Even though he probably would, if it came to it. But she did not want to let someone else handle her life for her, ever again.

She would be fine. Even if dismissing the whole situation probably didn't prove that she could, in fact, fix all of her problems on her own.

The female must have noticed her lack of response and opened her mouth to say something, but she was quickly cut off “I’m fine, Elain, really” she told her friend with a tight lipped smile.

“Are you sure?” something about the look in the middle Archeron sister’s eyes told her she didn’t entirely believe her. Elain gripped both of her hands in hers and continued on “Because if you’re not-”

“I’m alright, really” she assured

“Well, if you say so” the female dipped her head sheepishly, words slow and unsure.

“Can we change the subject, please?” she walked toward the counter near the back of the studio “I have these new projects here, maybe you could take a look…”

The two females ended up taking more than just one look at the projects, as they were now, well over an hour later, sitting on the wooden floor of the shop, papers scattered around them.

Elain gasped as she looked at the time, saying she was supposed to meet with Lucien in a few minutes. She left quickly after complimenting her unfinished works.

She stood up from the floor, wiping her hands on the skirts of her dress. She had a bit of time for a general clean up before Cassian came to fly her to the house for family dinner.

She sighed out through her nose and fixed the ribbon holding half of her hair up. If she was perfectly honest with herself, she would say that she’d much rather hide in her bedroom all night than deal with more coddling from her family.

Maybe it was some long-ago built in shame for expressing vulnerability. She was supposed to sit pretty, quiet and pliant. What was scary was how sometimes, when she fell apart or was especially exhausted - that was a form she craved taking.

But she was alright now and it was ridiculous for her to require this much attention from the people around her.

As she went on with tidying up the studio, her mind wandered over to Azriel. She worried for him, as she always did, but she knew how experienced and seasoned he was. The mission wasn’t anything for him to even bat an eye over, she was sure.

And anyway, he was probably already on his way home.

Azriel did not yet appear to be on his way home. Her stomach churned as she squirmed in Cassian’s arms.

“What do you mean ‘he hasn’t reported to Rhys yet?’” she looked up at him, and wide eyes demanding explanation

“I’m sure he’s alright, seriously. I did not mean to worry you” Cassian replied with a light voice as he soared over the city. When she didn’t reply he looked down to find her still staring at him sternly, jaw clenched and eyes squinted. Uneasy in his arms. “If I knew this would be how you’d react, I’d never would have told you”

“Well that’s comforting, Cassian.” he bristled a bit, eyes softening at her worry.

“He probably just got held up somewhere. This has happened before, remember?” Cassian tried to reason “He usually comes home late”

“But he always reports it, no?”

Cassian sighed, adjusting his grip on her.

“I’m just worried, Cass”

“I know. But he’s fine, I’m sure of it”

Her worry had not eased one bit in the next half hour.

After immediately taking notice of Azriel’s absence at dinner, unease started to creep up her chest. It was possibly a bit unreasonable to get overly worried, this soon. This wasn’t the first time he was late from a mission.

But why hasn’t he reported back?

Everyone else at the table seemed to think exactly the same way Cassian did - that everything was fine. But she had a bad feeling about this.

She swore she could feel worry and anxiety in her chest as though someone had tied a string to her rib and actively pulled it. But with some more convincing from the inner circle, she chose to dismiss the worry for a little while.

If he didn’t get back when they were done eating, that’s when she would seriously start worrying.

“So, I heard you and Azriel are going on a trip to Summer Court soon?” Feyre asked in a light tone, a fair try at deflecting the conversation.

“What? Summer?” Cassian gasped at hearing the question. He looked at her, eyes wide with betrayal. “You guys know I can’t go!”

Nesta chuckled, patting her mate’s arm.

“You’ll live, big guy”

“Well,” she looked at Cassian, and smiled sheepishly “that’s because Az and I were planning on going alone”

Cassian just sat there, mouth hanging open, staring at her in disbelief. Nesta was fighting her smirk; Feyre, Elain and their respective mates were chuckling, while Mor was outright laughing in Cassian’s face.

“And you all knew about this?”

Silence, broken by a few giggles, engulfed the dining room of the House of Wind.

“Traitors” Cassian huffed, slumping back in his chair with his arms crossed.

And for a moment, a comforting lightness came over her. Her friends were all laughing, the evening was peaceful and Azriel surely would be home safe and sound soon.

That feeling lasted all but about ten seconds before a sharp voice cut through it like a knife.

“Well, it’s good to know you and Azriel will be gallivanting around another court while we will be left to deal with your family, once they come here” Amren spoke smoothly from her chair at the other end of the table, eyes sharp and focused.

The room was casted in a heavy silence.

Before she could open her mouth to say something, Rhysand was already shaking his head in disapproval. Violet eyes held warning in them as he spoke to the female. “I think that’s enough, Amren”

She scoffed. “What, you make a show of breaking down over this on Starfall and now Azriel is taking you away to have a vacation just when things will get dirty here?”

“I-” she stammered. A doe closed into a corner. “We haven’t decided on when we’re going-”

“Like that’s the issue here” there was a hint of disdain in Amren’s voice as she replied, before bringing her wine glass to her lips.

She looked down at her like she was a bug under her shoe.

This was strange, even for Amren - yes, they were never close friends, but their relationship was also never outright hostile like this. “What exactly is it that you’re planning to do when your father does come here, eventually?”

She didn’t say anything. Shame, so distinct that she could actually feel it cutting into her chest, burned her as she looked around the room.

Wide eyes confused the glances the rest of the inner circles were exchanging as hostile against her, when in reality they were meant against Amren. She felt her breathing become shallow, and more shame licked at her.

Stupid, foolish girl.

“That’s enough.” Rhysand said with finality, at which Amren smirked but sat back and looked away. Nesta glared at her.

She should be fine. She shouldn’t need this defense, all this coddling. She hated that about the matter of her parents so much - the subject left her feeling so defenseless.

Any thought of them was like twisting a knife that had been stabbed through her for her whole life.

The worst thing was that deep down, she knew Amren was right.

She had no plan, no idea what to do, and did in fact hope that her summer court vacation would overlap with her family’s visit. If you could even call it a visit.

The word invasion crossed her mind.

Gods, what a mess this was. She was.

And most of all, she felt stupid for wishing Azriel was here. She shouldn’t need anyone. She usually didn’t need anyone.

She shook her head, not wanting to ruin the evening for herself more. There were things to worry about, now that they were halfway through eating and Azriel was still not here.

With a picked up heart rate and shaky hands, she went on eating her meal. She didn’t look up from her plate once, so she didn’t see the worried glances her friends were exchanging.

Not like it would’ve been better on her mind if she had.

She has been pacing her best friend’s bedroom for half an hour now.

He should be here. Something is wrong, for sure.

More and more nightmarish scenarios passed through her mind as she ran her hands through her hair for the thousandth time.

Just when she was about to step out of the room to find Rhys or Cassian and Nesta, the door opened.

She stopped dead in her tracks as she watched the shadowsinger stumble into his bedroom. Her eyes zeroed in on the hand he was clutching at his stomach. Red stained his fingers.

Her breathing went in and out in short gasps and she didn’t notice the surprise on Azriel’s face when he saw her there.

Her presence alone was enough reason for happiness for Azriel to forget the pain shooting through his abdomen.

The sight of her, however, was not.

Her usually composed hairstyle was a mess, and when she moved to stabilize him when he stumbled in her direction, he noticed the bit through the skin on her fingertips. The look on her face didn’t help either.

She was scared. Worried.

“Are you alright?”

She stopped dead in her tracks, again, and then with a furrowed brow looked down at his abdomen, and then back to his face.

“You’re hurt” her voice was strained, heavy

“I’ll be fine” he went to go inside his room, and she caught him when he almost fell “Just need to-” he gasped “Lay down”

“No, Az, you need help,” she directed him into the bathroom instead and led him to sit on the closed toilet lid. “Here, I’ll get Rhys to call Madja”

“No”

She gave him a stern look. Sweet, caring girl. “Azriel.”

“I can patch myself up,” he laid back against the wall “No healers. And I’ll be fine s’long as you’re here, angel. Been thinking about you all day” he said with closed eyes.

Gods, he must be delirious from the bloodlost, she thought.

If he won’t see Madja she’ll have to heal him herself. A bunch of shadows handed her a medic kit.

Time was a blur as she set everything out and went to start stopping the bleeding and healing the cut. She knelt before Azriel, movements quick, but precise. Her brow was furrowed with concentration, but worry, too.

Why hadn’t he let anyone know that he was hurt? What has happened?

Azriel hissed in pain as she disinfected the already healing wound. He would be fine, she exhaled in relief.

“Sorry,” she grimaced, looking up at him. “I’m almost done”

Azriel looked down at her through lidded eyes, a small smile donning his lips.

After a moment, when he still wouldn’t look away, she continued on her work with pink-tinted cheeks. Azriel’s stupid smile widened.

He could get stabbed everyday if it meant she would take care of him.

Soon, she was done and helped him to bed.

With assistance from his shadows, she had managed to change him into sleeping clothes. The wound was almost healed already, but she still bandaged it up, just in case.

She exhaled for what felt like the first time in hours. Gods, she knew something was wrong. Still, something inside her eased at having him back at her side, even if hurt. At least this way she could personally make sure he would be taken care of.

And she had to admit to herself, as selfish as it was, she was eternally glad to have him here after that cauldron damned dinner. A feeling of safety came back to her chest like a puzzle piece being set in place.

Now that he wasn’t actively losing blood, Azriel could think a little straighter. He sat against his pillows as she fluffed them up for him, brow still furrowed with worry. He lifted a finger to smooth the lines of her forehead.

“You should be better soon, Az. How do you feel?” she gripped his forearm in her hand. Her wide eyes bored into his hazel ones.

“I’m alright”

She let out a sigh in relief that he was at least feeling better. “I’ll tell Cassian that you won’t come to training and I’ll go to Madja for some tonics for you first thing in the morning. I also read somewhere that-”

“Sweetheart” he interrupted her gently “I’m alright, really. No need to do any of those things”

“No, Az, you’re not training tomorrow morning. No way” he straightened up a little when he saw the seriousness in her eyes. The worry, the stress. Gods, she must have really worked herself up over this.

“Alright, okay. I’m not training tomorrow” he murmured gently, reaching up to tuck away a strand of her hair that fell out of the meddled up hairstyle.

She breathed out, nodding.

Sweet girl.

There was an aspect of vulnerability to their relationship that made it quite different from any other ones in their lives.

For example, Azriel was the only one who knew the true details of her past. Of why she acted the way she did when the subject came up, and he knew how to handle her when she got soft and sensitive about it too. And she let him. Only him.

It went the other way around as well.

She knew everything about his childhood and why now so often he kept to the corners and the shadows.

Why he sometimes felt as if he should not touch her with his bare hands. And she knew how to coax out his soft side, too. In fact, after a while it started coming out around her against his own will. And after a while, he started to love it, how safe he felt around her.

But there were corners of his mind that Azriel was still too wary to let even her into. Corners that he visited in his nightmares and in his darkest moments, but ones that somehow felt all too powerful over him.

That’s why when a heavy silence encapsulated Azriel’s darkened bedroom, when the air became heavy and both their breathing shallow, when the pair realized just how close they are to each other and she looked at him wide eyed, so expectantly, as if something groundbreaking were about to happen, lips already opening for him- He pulled away.

That was why he started some meaningless conversation, trying to ignore the way her face fell when he sat back, further away from her.

That was why he hated himself a little more than on his worst days as he told her minor details of the beginning of his mission, eyes not missing the water lining her eyes.

He swore, his shadows had never scolded him as much in his entire life as in that moment. And they were right to.

The conversation went on until Azriel succumbed to the tiredness of being wounded and fell asleep. She watched his breathing even out, and then stared at him for a little while more.

Then, she debated going back to her room to sleep, but quickly rejected that idea. What if something happened to his wound while he was asleep? No, she should stay. But it also felt wrong to lay next to him after he-

No, she must have misinterpreted the situation. Azriel would never try to-

Right?

She tried to dismiss the thoughts from her mind.

Gods, what was wrong with her?

She laid down in an armchair she had dragged to the side of his bed. Her best friend was hurt, and here she was thinking about kissing him. About how she wanted to but-. This is not the time and place.

Sleep wouldn’t claim her for a long time, so she resorted to sitting there and counting her best friend’s breaths. After a while, their steady rhythm pulled her eyelids to close.

The room was still dark when Azriel opened his eyes. Moonlight streamed in through the opened curtains.

Azriel hissed as he turned around. A sharp pain pulled at this stomach and he looked down to see bandages wrapped around his torso. The wound must not have fully healed yet.

His eyes took in his surroundings and the first thing he noticed was that the armchair pulled up to his bedside.

And the person in it.

With a furrowed brow Azriel took in his best friend, still dressed in her work dress, curled in the chair in a position that must have been uncomfortable to fall asleep in.

What was she doing? Why hadn’t she laid down next to him? Possibilities passed through his mind, and finally he landed on the most probable one - that she wanted to watch him while he slept without disturbing him.

He shook his head as he started getting up. Selfless girl.

Too selfless for her own good, if it meant she would have to deal with back or neck pain in the morning.

But her care was a sweet feeling that even after decades of knowing her felt strange to Azriel. Any other member of his family would’ve known he could patch himself up and not worry themselves into madness about one singular stab wound that was nothing new for him.

Because he would’ve been fine. He had no doubt that if something actually life threatening were to happen to him, his family would take care of him.

It was a sweet, strange feeling that she would care over things he discarded as insignificant. That anyone would ever enjoy taking care of him, and willingly take time out of their day to do so.

He breathed out through his nose as he reached down to scoop her into his arms.

He hoped she wouldn’t wake, if only because she would scold him from carrying her when wounded.

And as he laid her on his bed, he thought about how there was one part of her he would probably never understand.

That unfiltered, unprecedented care she had for him. He knew he reciprocated it, that it went both ways, but somehow her care towards him seemed greater.

Maybe it was because he was harder to love. There were many more ugly sides to him that she frankly lacked.

Maybe because sometimes when he touched her he could feel that ugliness actually seep into her skin.

By the Mother, if he were any less of a selfish male he would’ve stopped this a long time ago. But neither did he have the honour to make her aware of his darkness, as cheap as that may sound, nor did he have the guts to make her his fully.

He couldn’t bear to taint her. Not as he looked at her face pressed into his pillow. Not as he thought about how soft her skin was under his fingertips. And certainly not as he thought about the endless streams of tears she let out as she seeked comfort and safety in him because of how badly she was treated by the people meant to love her.

She entrusted herself to him and he was to ruin her with himself, now?

He ran a hand through her hair as he felt his own hatred for himself run deeper and deeper.

Sometimes, in his worst nightmares, he saw something horrible happening to her. Such a tragic incident would make her his match. In his worst nightmares, she always knew that it was all his fault, and still decided to stay. Putting herself on a clear path to destruction, for him.

And, truth be told, he didn’t know what to make of it. What to do. This was one of the only areas in his life, where Azriel felt stuck.

He was hers, for eternity and he has known that for a very long time. But there was a part of him that couldn’t let her do that to herself. That couldn’t let her accept the curse of loving him.

Could he protect her from himself? Did he want to?

He used to think that he could accept this, whatever they had. Whatever form of friendship or relationship she would offer, he would grab handfuls of.

Now, however, he knew there was a problem that made his chest tighten, heart rate pick up and scarred hands clench and unclench when in close distance to her.

The impatience that grew simmering hot in Azriel, waiting to spill over.

taglist: @blonde-bansheee @k-homosapien @azysmate @brekkershadowsinger

if you want to be added, let me know here

Hollow Promises

Matt Murdock x Reader

Summary: Matt finds and loses a life he’s never had. A life he doesn’t even feel like deserving sometimes. Genre: Angst Rating: T Warnings: Swearings, depictions of violence, major character death 2,331 words

Notes: MATT ANGST AS REQUESTED BY MY BAE @potatoersforever​. <3 Sorry for the long wait, baby. Also sorry for the shitty writing. I can’t write angst for shit. AND I’M SORRY Y’ALL for the lack of updates. I just moved into a new apartment and everything is still a mess and I just got the internet connection installed today (after waiting for 5 days) so…yeah. Next one-shot might be a Bucky one. Hopefully. Let’s all pray. Thank you for reading and tell me if there’s any mistake! ENJOY! <3

When Matt wakes up in that morning, he feels his chest tight with apprehension.

Nothing that he isn’t used to considering the life he leads, except this time it feels different. Heavier, somehow. 

He’s felt guilt and anger and sorrow and sure apprehension but never over something he doesn’t know, never over something he couldn’t sense entirely. 

And he rarely feels this, but when he wakes up in that morning and feels you cuddled up against his body, your warm and soft breath hitting his chest so comfortably, all he can think about is how bad he wishes to see you right in that moment. 

He’s never expected to find in you something that he could hold on to – solace and safety and that sensation of feeling like home. 

Czytaj dalej

Shake Your Ass, Barnes

Summary: One way to meet the new recruit is to have him think he’s seeing double of the infamous Black Widow, but there is Just Dance too.

Pairing: Bucky Barnes/The Winter Soldier x Reader

Word Count: 812

Warnings: Mild Swearing

A/N: I’ve been really inactive recently because of the shit going down in my friendship group but I’ve decided to make an x reader based of a gif imagine I made. Also, младшая сестра means little sister, and мудак means asshole. I thought I’d say before I caused any confusion. Enjoy!

———————————————————————————————————–

Maybe tinkering with Tony’s cars at 2:30am wasn’t the best idea. Especially when he caught you…

“(Y/N), what are you doing?” He asked, concern in his voice.

You pushed yourself out from under the car and wiped your forehead with a greasy rag. “Fixing this pile of crap. How’d you know it was me?”

“No, I meant what are you doing up at 2:30 in the morning. And to answer your previous question, your sister wouldn’t be under a car, is how I know.”

“Well, I couldn’t sleep so I thought that I’d come down here. I’ve finished all of my projects and the blueprints for my new weapons system haven’t finished downloading yet so the next best thing was to fix up your old car.” You said, lowering yourself back under.

“(Y/N)?” Tony said.

“That’s my name, don’t wear it out.”

“(Y/N), it’s not funny. Go to bed, you’ll regret staying up later if you don’t sleep.”

“Fine, but I’ll be back down here after.” You said, pulling yourself up on the large toolbox and dumping the rag on the hood of the car.

-

‘What time is it?’ you thought, rolling over to the bedside cabinet to check your phone.

10:30am

You groaned and let yourself fall back onto the bed for moment, before wrapping your duvet around your body and shuffling to the kitchen for some coffee.

“Mornin’ Sleeping Beauty.” Clint teased.

“Ugh.” You sighed, grabbing a cup and putting it in the coffee machine.

“Aw, what’s wrong? Do you regret being under a car at 2:30am?” Tony smirked. “I told you you would, sweatheart.”

“Shut it Tony.” You said, sitting on a chair.

You heard the soft patter of your twin sister’s trainers entering the kitchen and turned around to great her.

“Hey, младшая сестра.” You smiled.

“You’re only 6 minutes older than me.” Natasha smirked, grabbing an apple from the fruit bowl.

“Indeed I am.” You smirked back at her. “What are your plans for today?”

“Training, then off to a mission. I should only be gone 2 days, max. What about you?”

“Take a wild guess.” You tucked your fire-red hair behind your ear. “I’ll be in Tony’s garage tinkering with that pile of metal he calls a car.”

“Don’t be rude.” Tony retorted.

“Sorry, мудак.” You laughed.

Natasha laughed and choked on her apple at what you called Tony.

“Wait, what did she just call me?” He said, curiously. “Should I be insulted?”

“Not at all Tony, not at all.” You smirked, taking a sip from your cup of coffee.

Another set of shoes walked through the halls and into the kitchen. You all turned our heads in the direction of the mystery person and saw one of your new colleagues, Bucky Barnes. You hadn’t had the pleasure to meet him yet, but apparently you were about to.

“Oh shit.” He muttered. “Shit, Steve! What was in that doughnut you gave me? I think I’m seeing double!”

You looked at him confused and then at Natasha.

‘Ohhh, that’s what’s up.’ you thought.

“What, Buck?” Steve said, jogging into the kitchen.

He looked at you, then at Natasha and finally at Bucky.

“Buck, there was nothing in the doughnut. This is Natasha’s twin sister, (Y/N). (Y/N), this is my best friend Bucky Barnes. He’s our newest recruit.”

You stuck out a hand for him to shake. “Hi, Bucky. Nice to meet you.”

He took your hand in his you shook it wearily. “Likewise, (Y/N).”

“Well, now that that is over I’m going to modify baby number 47.” Tony said, rubbing his hands together and walking away.

“And Clint and I have to go and train for this mission. Bye (Y/N).” Natasha said, hugging you before she left with Clint.

“Well, I’m going to get ready but I’ll leave you guys to talk. See you 'round, (Y/N).” Steve said before waving goodbye.

“So I guess it’s just us.”+++ You said, smiling at Bucky.

“I guess.” He said, staring down.

“So, what do you wanna do? We could play the new Mortal Combat if you’d like? Or is Just Dance more your scene?” You smirked.

“Just what?” He asked, confused.

“Come on, I’ll show you.” You said, walking to the living room.

-

“Wait, what am I doing?!” The super solider asked.

When Natasha asked you what you were doing today, you definitely wouldn’t have said dancing to Barbie Girl with The Winter Solider.

“Hands on your hips, Barnes! Shake your ass!” You shouted.

“I would take this over training any day, let’s just hope no one sees us doing this.” He laughed.

However, little did you know Steve was watching you two from the corridor trying his best not to laugh at his best friend shaking his ass to Barbie Girl.

The song finished and you two sat back down on the chair, laughing.

“Okay, next song. How about Charleston?” You suggested.

“So I see you two have hit it off.” Steve laughed walking into the living room.

“Oh, shit. Hey Stevie.” Bucky said. “You didn’t see any of that, did you?”

“Not if you didn’t want me to, bud.” Steve smiled.

He looked at the screen before picking up another remote. “So what song is next, guys?”

For anon…reader is painter as requested. Enjoy! (Just a reminder, all the gifs I use are found thru Google unless I state otherwise) It’s soooo long!

Steve let out a wide-mouthed, quiet yawn as he entered the kitchen in the Avengers tower. He stretched his limbs before cracking his neck and knuckles. He padded over to the coffee machine eager for his morning brew.

Just as he started the machine, he heard some thuds coming from the living room. Curious, Steve poked his head out of the kitchen. A small, amused smile crept over his features as he noticed you sitting on the ground, canvas strewn all over the glass coffee table.

Upon closer inspection, he noticed a pop-tart box, probably one of Thor’s, that had barely been touched. In your hand was a thin brush as you focused all of your attention onto filling in your sketches. You paused a moment to scratch your head and settle into a slightly new position. You hunched your back over the platform.

A beep alerted Steve that his coffee was done. Smirking, the soldier grabbed a second mug and filled them up. The blond carried the full cups as he made his way to the couch. He sat a few centimeters from where you were hunched over, still on the floor. He craned his neck to get a better view of the painting.

“G’Morning, Y/N,” he greeted. You jumped slightly, not realizing he had been there. “Steve!” you yelped. “I thought you went to bed.” He gave you a humored smile. “Yeah, eight hours ago.” “Ah crud,” you mumbled realizing you hadn’t left this spot since last night. He held a mug out to you. “I brought you some coffee.” You accepted it gratefully. “Thanks. Just what I needed.”

Steve leaned forward, picking up a few of the paintings closest to him. You kept your gaze on the one you had been working on while sipping your coffee. For whatever reason, you felt your painting seemed…off. A package of pop tarts landed next to you. Not but a moment later, you felt Steve pressing his lips to your temple. You blushed slightly, not because of the kiss, he did that all the time. You were just thankful that Steve was watching out for you. Maybe the kiss was a part of it, but no big deal. You opened the pop tarts and picked at the food.

“These are amazing, Y/N,” Steve praised softly. You shrugged. “Could be better. Actually, the bird one is pretty good.” He nodded. “The colors contrast quite well. Makes the feathers more seamless.” You quirked a brow at him. “Do…do you paint too, Stevie?” Steve chuckled and shook his head. “No. I’m not that artistic.” “Ah ha! But you are artistic!” You waved your fingers back and forth at him. “C’mon Rogers. Let me take a look since you saw mine.”

Steve licked his lips before smirking. A faint blush bloomed over his cheeks. He set his mug on the table, careful not to touch any of your paintings, and stood up. He walked back into the kitchen and opened a drawer. He pulled out a sketchpad and walked back toward you. You could tell he was nervous by the way he held his book: strong and close. You offered a supportive smile.

“It’s alright, Steve. You can trust me.” He smirked and handed it to you. “They’re not nearly as good as your paintings-”

Your gasp cut him off. His eyes widened slightly, a bit nervous. You gently smoothed your hand just to the side of Nat’s portrait. It was so life-like you would’ve mistaken it for her had it not been for the lack of coloring. You flipped to the next page to see a portrait of Tony laughing. The next was Clint and Nat drinking a beer on a couch.

“Steve, these are…” He sighed. “Let me have it.” “Stunning,” you finished with a grin.

Steve’s eyes lit up as you turned to see a sketch of Thor flying over New York. You noticed a figure on the ground wearing a lab coat. It was Bruce. You continued to flip through the pages.

“’Not that artistic’ you say,” you joked, “I never knew I was always in similar company.” Steve saw you flipping closer to the last page. “Uh, Y/N, please don-”

You sat straight as you saw a portrait of yourself. Steve had drawn you grinning with the sun behind you with a Captain America shirt. Your eyes were held a mischievous glint that only he could draw. Feeling your cheeks warm, you ducked your head. You handed Steve his pad while heading to your room. He let out a sigh, thinking you were running to hide. He was surprised when you reentered, clutching a canvas to your chest. Your face was a pinkish hue. Steve wordlessly raised an eyebrow in curiosity as you walked closer to him. You handed it to him face down.

The soldier gingerly turned it around to see a painting of himself. He was sitting on a bench while laughing. A hand held onto his stomach. He noticed a picnic blanket on the ground as well. Steve blinked a few times. It took just another blink before he was on his feet kissing you desperately.

You returned it just as fervently.

Want to Request?

boy: I really hate it when girls--

me: I have literally never cared less about the ending of a sentence in my entire life.

Bum

Reminder that Steve Rogers was born in 1920, and Bucky Barnes was born in 1917, which means that Steve was in his early twenties during the war, and Bucky was in his mid twenties. I know that they’re both portrayed by 30 year old men, but really? They probably looked more like these guys:

Don’t forget that Steve Rogers and Bucky Barnes had to grow up way too fast, not only because of the war, but because they were teenagers in the Great Depression, they were part of an extremely marginalized group during a time of extreme tension, and the whole dead parents thing. Don’t forget that Steve and Bucky probably never got to do dumb teenager things because they both had to do whatever work they could to stay afloat and then a WAR happened. 

Think about all that pressure once Steve was “Captain America” and became a propaganda piece. Think about the atrocities of war that they’d have seen. Think about the fact that they both faced death. Think about the fact that Steve’s best friend died. THINK ABOUT HOW THESE KIDS ARE NOW SUDDENLY 95+ YEARS OLD. Think about Bucky, waking up and technically being maybe 27 and having to reconcile all the things HYDRA made him do as the Winter Soldier.

Peggy Carter was born in 1919. She is only a year older than Steve. She’s still in her twenties during Agent Carter, y’all. Let that sink in for a moment. She’s still in her twenties.

That flashback scene in The Winter Soldier with the “I’m with ya till the end of the line”? They were teenagers then. TEENAGERS. 

REMINDER THAT THE MAIN CHARACTERS OF CAPTAIN AMERICA: THE FIRST AVENGERS WERE ALL CHILDREN.

Requested by Anonymous (But I accidentally deleted the request \(._.)/)

Peter didn’t expect this.. 

After he finished with his fight for Mr. Tony Stark, (Yeah, The Tony Stark. Otherwise known as Iron Man. As in the Iron Man in the Avengers. As in he fought with the flipping Avengers. He’s like an elite hero now or something.) he thought that the Avengers would be done with him now. 

At least he kind of hoping.. Do you know how difficult it was explaining to Aunt May why he was gone for so long? 

But it didn’t work like that. 

Whenever they had a mission near them, he was always asked to go and assist. It was polite enough, sure. But he knew that when Black Widow asked him to do something, there really wasn’t an option for him to refuse. 

So here he was now, perching on a ledge of some building while he listened to Natasha and Clint go over the plans. It didn’t seem like that big of a mission, but he wasn’t going to ask to leave. He pissed Widow off once, and even though they kind of shared a name sake, he knew he would get no mercy a second time. 

He scanned the ground underneath him absent mindedly, only half listening to the other two at this point. They were just going to find one thug, and he doubted he was going to do little more than web him to the wall so Natasha and Clint could talk to the dude. 

But that’s when he saw you, you were walking down the streets with your hands in your pockets and your head down. He smiled a little behind his mask, and forgot for a second that the super spies were even there in the first place.

Everything was fine, Peter thinking about when he was ever going to tell you. It wasn’t healthy not doing so, and it wasn’t fair that you didn’t know why she sometimes cancelled or showed up late to dates. And you were as always oblivious to Spider-Man watching you from rooftops, thinking about what homework you still had to complete and the chores you would have to do when you got home. 

Sure, everything was great until it suddenly wasn’t. 

When you were walking past a group of teenage boys, there was a couple chuckles before one stood out just after you passed them and called out to you. 

“Hey sweetie, put a smile on that pretty face!” 

As you glanced over your shoulder startled to see who yelled at you, Peter tensed up on his perch as he watched what was going on. 

“If you come over here, I can do it for ya babygirl.” 

Before Peter knew what he was doing really, he was already swinging down to land on the ground between you and the group of guys before his friends even stopped laughing. 

“Did someone call me?” Peter smiled behind the mask as he spread his arms casually. “But I do have a name though. I actually happen to prefer Spider-Man over baby girl. It’s more direct, you know?” 

The guy who was catcalling you, hesitated now. Not quite sure what to say. 

“What’s up, kid? Cat got your tongue? Getting a little shy now that you’re getting some attention back?” Peter crossed his arms over his chest, and the guy just shook his head and moved back into the little circle of his friends as they started walking away. “Awe, going so soon? Bummer.” 

He turned around to face you to see you have a thoughtful look on your face. Your eyebrows were scrunched together and there was a cute little frown on your lips as you stared at him. 

He gulped. 

“Thank You,” You murmured slowly. 

Peter nodded, trying to play it off cool. “No problem. Just your friendly neighbourhood Spider-Man coming to offer a helping hand.” 

You raised your eyebrows as you took a step closer. “Just my friendly neighbourhood Spider-Man, hm?” 

“.. Yes.” 

“Not an over protective boyfriend in Spandex?” 

Peter almost choked on his spit, and immediately turned into a stuttering mess. “W-what are you talking about? I mean.. You’re lovely, but we just met, and-,” 

“Peter you can’t seriously believe that I don’t recognize your voice. And I mean.. Spider-Man doesn’t stop in for every jerk who yells at a girl.” 

“Maybe he tries his best to.” 

“He?” 

“Me, I meant.. Me. I do. Because.. Yeah. Because I do. I try my best.” 

You took another step forward to him, and taking advantage of the darker time of day and slightly near an alleyway, you reached for his mask. 

“You really shouldn’t do that. It’s hardly poli- Oh, you’ve done it. Hi,” Peter grinned shyly down at you when you took his mask off completely and looked up at him an innocent smile. 

“You’re really Spider-Man, holy shit.” You muttered. 

Peter looked down at the space inbetween you two, and shuffled his feet a little. “I wanted to tell you, it’s just-,” 

He got cut off by you suddenly standing up a little straighter to press a kiss on his lips, and wrapped your arms around his neck to keep yourself stable. 

It took a second for him to snap out of his confusion, but as soon as he tried to return the affection, a voice cut you two off. 

“Get some, bug boy!” Clint shouted down at you two from another rooftop. Both of your heads snapped up to look at him and the Black Widow leaning over the edge grinning at the two of you. 

“Is that..?” 

“It’s a long story.” Peter grumbled.

Omg your Peter imagines are amazing can you say what it would include finding out his secret identity or write a Drabble about his girlfriend finding out

I’m gonna do the prompt if that’s okay? Feel free to request the would involve version another time though! 

“Peter, you’re scaring me.” (Y/N) said honestly as Peter took her hand in his, sitting next to her on the couch. He took a deep breath and got ready for what he was about to tell her, making sure that he was completely ready before he did.

“I know that I’ve been really busy lately and I know that I haven’t been the best boyfriend lately, but there’s a reason,” he promised, looking into her (Y/E/C) eyes. He took another deep breath before continuing. “I’m Spider-Man.”

(Y/N) stared blankly at him for a moment. “You’re Spider-Man?”

“I’m Spider-Man.”

“Holy crap, my boyfriend is Spider-Man!”