I’m Declaring It Now. 2020 Is Going To Be The Year Where We All Unironically, Whole-heartedly Throw

collision course

Pairing: Azriel x f!reader

Summary: A hasty escape and a wayward storm results in Azriel crossing paths with you. Over the centuries that follow, you meet again and again, gently tucked away in a corner of the world only you two are privy to. But as wars loom and time begins to erode the once carefree interactions, it seems inevitable that the tentative sanctuary built will collapse... and it's unclear if either one of you will come out on the other side.

Series Overview/Warnings: Angst, pining, fighting/injuries, slow-burn, some of the og timeline may be tweaked to better suit the story

Status: On-going

part one — genesis

Healing Wounds

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Reader

Rating: T

Word Count: 3661

Warning: Strong cliches (miscommunication, bed sharing, etc.)

Summary: You and Mr. Metal Arm are ex-friends, but a mission leaves you stranded and you’re forced to stay in a motel room together. The catch? There’s only one bed.

Notes: why are my stories so long compared to everyone else’s?

if you have a request, my requests are open! also, if you want a part two to this (for some odd reason??? it’s a standalone, but if you like the personality of the reader, i guess) let me know!

Exhaustion plagued your body, but you kept a stern expression and marched on, despite being fairly slow. Bucky trudged along next to you, but you could tell he was slowing his pace down to match yours. The both of you were in the middle of nowhere, having gone on a mission with no extraction team. You were somewhere in America, at least you knew that, and the both of you were walking through a forest. It could be worse as you could have ended up in Arizona or somewhere ridiculously hot. The temperature in the forest was slightly warm for your tastes, especially due to all the gear you were wearing.

Keep reading

Episode

A/N: Okay, let me say right now that I really like this request and I just really hope I can do it justice. Haha. Feel free to continue requesting imagines or drabbles!! :)

Prompt: @arianaamaris asked: Hi!! I just followed you! I really liked ‘Your Highness’ it was really well done. So I was wondering, if you wouldn’t mind, a Bucky X Reader where Bucky has an episode one day in his room when he starts to have nightmares and she runs in to help him. While she tries Bucky kinda hurts her and so to not hurt her tells her to get out of the room and she really doesn’t want to leave so she just sleeps curled on his shut door. Then he finds her and takes her in. Lol I’m sorry if it’s a lot!! Thanks!

A loud shout shook you awake from you peaceful sleep. Nightmares weren’t new to you. They weren’t new to anyone, especially after the recent of events. You’d known the team for close to four years, now and had officially been welcome to join the team two years ago. You sat up, rubbing your eyes as another shout sounded from the room next to you. You woke up more as you processed the shouts as Bucky’s.

You pushed the blankets off of you as you worried for Bucky’s safety. The two of you had been together for a few months and you’d witnessed a few episodes once or twice, but they never scared you. Bucky frequently worried that you’d run away after witnessing a particularly strong episode, but you never left. You’d always been around, always.

You walked into Bucky’s room and spotted him standing on the other side of the room. He was pacing around the room, looking for something. He had already thrown the table over and broke his window. You weren’t sure what to do, but you knew sneaking up on him wasn’t a good option. “Bucky,” you spoke, cautiously.

Bucky’s eyes whipped towards you, showing both fear and coldness. You’d never seen this look in his eyes and you were a little scared, but you weren’t going to run away. You stood your ground and watched as he winced. “Y/N,” he rasped. “Leave, it isn’t safe for you in here.”

Keep reading

Idiot

Peter x reader(girl)

Imagine request: dad Tony talking to Peter about his relationship with you and saying “She doesn’t say ‘I love you’ like a normal person. Instead, she’ll laugh, shake her head, give you a little smile, and say… ‘You’re an idiot’. If she tells you you’re an idiot, you are a lucky man.” please!!

Warnings: A few not so nice words here and there.

Note: WHOOP DE DOO THIS IS SO CUTE. I hope you enjoy this imagine! Tony as a dad seems so irresponsibly cute. This is my first Peter POV, testing it out to see how you guys like it. If you want me to write something in something in someone’s POV, don’t hesitate to ask.

Peter POV

“Hey, Pete!” Y/N said, beaming a beautiful smile that lit up avengers towers.

“Hey, Y/N. What’s up on this morning?” I said to her, looking at her.

Keep reading

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

permanent tag list 🫶🏻: 

@rhysandorian @itsswritten @milswrites @lilah-asteria @georgiadixon 

@glam-targaryen @cheneyq @darkbloodsly @pit-and-the-pen @azrielsbbg

@evergreenlark @marina468 @azriels-human @book-obsessed124 @bubybubsters 

@starswholistenanddreamsanswered @feyretopia  @ninthcircleofprythian @velariscalling @azrielrot

@justyouraveragekleemain @marigold-morelli @mrsjna @anarchiii @alittlelostalittlefound

@melissat1254

@secretsicanthideanymore

@m4tthewmurd0ck @beardburnsupersoldiers @isnotwhatyourethinking @tothestarsandwhateverend @raginghellfire

@angel-graces-world-of-chaos @acoazlove @paradisebabey @inkedinshadows

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

Watch Me

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Reader

Word count: 687 words

Warnings: Absolutely none. This is all fluff and cuteness. 

Request: Bucky sees the reader one day and follows the reader but keeps his distance and is to nervous to approach the reader but you notice and introduce yourself. Anonymous _______________________________________________________________________

You can feel his eyes like daggers in your back, but you don’t think he means harm. He’s been watching you clear tables all afternoon and you’ve dropped things several times throughout the day, because his stare makes you nervous. Every time you look his way he quickly looks at something else, but you’re confident that he is indeed looking at you. 

“How can I help?” you ask another customer but your mind is somewhere else; what would happen if you introduced yourself? You take down the order while you ponder the question. The worst thing that could happen is that he denies everything and you scare him off. 

“Mary, can I leave a bit earlier today?” you ask your boss wanting to talk to the man before he disappears.

“I don’t see why not. You take the finished orders out and you’re free to go,” Mary smiles. You thank her and hurry out with the last dishes before heading out back to change into your regular clothes. 

“Here goes nothing,” you mumble to yourself before heading outside. But when you get outside you notice that the man is gone. As if he was never there to begin with. 

“What the hell?” you ask yourself looking around. He couldn’t have just disappeared. He was there just a minute ago and the streets are too crowded for him to make a quick exit. You sigh as you begin to walk home. It’s a 30-minute walk and after 15 minutes of walking you feel his glare again. You turn around and notice him behind you. It’s starting to creep you out because he seems to want something from you. Why else would he be following you? Deciding to catch him in the act you turn around a corner and wait for him to follow. It doesn’t take long before you’re suddenly face to face with him. 

“Hi,” you breathe a little nervous. It’s starting to down upon you what you’re actually doing. He could be a stalker or something worse. 

“Hi,” he says a bit wondrous. It’s only now you notice that there’s something different about his arm. Is it silver? 

“I’m Y/N,” you say wanting to tread carefully. 

“That’s a pretty name,” he says and you wait a moment, but he doesn’t say more. He doesn’t introduce himself and you can’t help but wonder who he is. 

“Thank you,” you say blushing a little, “what’s your name?” 

“Bucky. I mean that’s just my nickname. I-My name is James Buchanan Barnes,” the tall man replies. You can’t help but laugh a little. 

“I like Bucky.” It’s quiet for a while. “Why have you been following me?”

“I just thought you were really beautiful. You are really beautiful,” he says stammering a little. You can’t help but find it adorable how shy he is. With his enormous arms and his tough exterior you’re surprised to learn that he’s practically a teddy bear at heart. 

“Thanks. You don’t look too bad yourself,” you reply feeling your cheeks burning. Both of you stand there in awkward silence waiting for the other to say something. 

“Well, are you going to ask me out or not?” you ask feeling a little bold. You’ve clearly taken Bucky by surprise with sudden outburst. But he quickly recovers and smiles. 

“Can I buy you a cup of coffee?” he asks. 

“I don’t drink coffee,” you say deciding to tease him a little. You need to get him back for staring at you all day. He looks like a lost puppy because coffee is apparently the only idea he has. 

“I’m just joking. I’d love a cup of coffee,” you say laughing a little. He starts laughing himself as he realises your comment was meant as a tease. 

“Come on,” you say grabbing his hand and intertwining your fingers with his. You’re surprised at how bold you’re acting, but Bucky seems to give you confidence. And it doesn’t take you long to find a coffeehouse. Once inside and seated you can finally have a proper conversation with the gorgeous man in front of you. 

“Tell me about yourself.”

I was today years old when I learned that when you type “otp: true” in AO3 search results it filters out fics with additional ships, leaving only the fics where your otp is the main ship

“You’re dating Peter Parker? How long? Y/f/n we’ve talked about you dating and-” A loud sigh escaped from your lips as your father, Steve Rogers, was preparing for a mile long speech that you weren’t at all in the mood to hear.

Only minutes before your dad had sat you down at the kitchen table, you were wrapped up tightly in a blanket watching a movie with you boyfriend, Peter Parker. The two of you had been together for a short span of two months but you were both keen on keeping it quiet. It was no secret that your father didn’t like the idea of you dating, he even went to the extreme of having a member of the Avengers watch over you at almost all waking moment to make sure the unspoken rule was followed.

Natasha would ‘casually’ tag along on your trips to the mall when Steve suspected you were meeting with a boy. Sometimes Tony would offer to drive you and your friends around because your father was dead set on the idea that a boy would be involved. Bucky and Steve refused to let anyone besides the team train you thinking that one of the male agents would pull something on you. You were beyond thankful and appreciative of your father ( and the rest of the teams) over protectiveness but at times it was overbearing.

You hardly went out to movies with your friends anymore because Wanda’s suspicious eyes made them uncomfortable and Thor could quickly turn your hang outs into awkward learning sessions on Asgardian terms and ways of life. You felt suffocated and smothered twentyfour-seven, well that was you did until you met Peter Parker.

Despite your father having forced you to sit out of the fight between him and Tony a few months back, you still traveled along with him to Germany. Nobody dared involve you in the fight so you kept yourself roaming on the down low in the streets of Munich, Germany with a trusted S.H.I.E.L.D agents watching over you. When the fight was over, Natasha escorted you back to New York and on the plane ride home you were introduced to the one and only Spiderman himself.

It was an odd thing meeting Peter. You quickly found the two of you had a long list of traits in common. You both were total dorks, top of your class, had special abilities, and felt stuck on the outside. When your father and Tony worked everything out and the team became one again, Tony Stark offered Peter a spot on The Avengers, if he earned it.

Peter was ecstatic and trained nonstop with you, soaking all the information you could possible give him up like a sponge. But along the way through all your flirtatious comments and teasing acts, you began to develop feelings for Peter. He was the same age as you and you shared so much in common so how could you not fall for his adorable smile?

When Peter came to you early one Sunday morning with the news that Tony was letting him join in on the next upcoming mission, you couldn’t hold back. You leaped across the room closing the space between the two of you and pressed you lips against his chapped ones without warning. An eruption of butterflies and fireworks exploded inside of you at the embrace. Peter’s hands trailed up your side and stopped at the small of your back pulling you tight against his body. You kept your hands by your side feeling a bit awkward not knowing what to do with them, it was your first kiss after all. You pulled away moments later and grazed your numb lips with your fingertip.

“Wow…” Peter mumbled smiling widely.

‘Yeah…” You responded still glued to a state of shock.

From there on Peter Parker and yourself made a plan and vowed not to tell a single soul of your relationship until your dad eased up. The team never questioned either of you and Steve trusted you with Parker, thinking of him as only your friend. You had no idea how long it would take and for a while you pondered over the possibility of never being able to come public with your relationship. But now as you sat soundlessly in front of your dad the idea of never coming clean to Steve didn’t seem so bad.

“Dad I like him alot and I know you do too. He’s nice to me and he doesn’t make me feel so lonely in this place. I don’t have many friends, dad. Peter had always been there for me and he understands me.” You explained softly staring at the marble countertop. The mesh of greys and white were suddenly the most interesting thing you had seen as your the padding of your finger traced the designs.

“I did like him,Y/n. That was before I knew he was dating you.” He said sternly. After you dad caught you with snuggled up to Peter and demanded an explanation, he rushed you back home to your apartment in Brooklyn that your father shared with your Uncle Bucky.

Bucky was seated on the couch flipping through channels and trying to remain out of the argument. He had had his fair share of wars within the last year and the last thing he wanted was to get between Steve and you.

“We’re still dating, dad.” Your voice was shallow and low. You could feel your throat clenching up and tears building up in your eyes. Peter was your best friend and were quickly developing deeper feelings than you could handle, the last thing you needed was your dad against you.

From the corner of your eye you could see your Uncle Bucky shifting from his seat on the couch to turn and subtly glance at your father and you.

“That’s not the point- Y/n I’m just… I’m just upset you didn’t tell me, alright? I thought you knew you could tell me anything.” He admitted defeatedly. His eyebrows were scrunched together in deep thought as he stared at you from across the table. A bit of guilt washed over you as you took in his words knowing exactly what he was touching on. Your mother, whom was long gone and had no intention of returning, was a very distrustful person after your birth. She betrayed your family and left in the middle of the night without warning leaving your dad in ruins.

The last thing you wanted was to turn into your wariness mom.

Reaching across the tabletop you laid your hand on top of your dad’s giving it a light squeeze. “Dad I’m sorry I didn’t mean to hide anything from you. The only reason I kept it from you was because I knew you would react like this. I really like him, Peter that is, but I was scared you wouldn’t let me be with him and be mad at me.”

Glancing up at you with watery eyes Steve shook his head,

“No sweetheart, I could never be mad at you. You’re my little girl and I love you more than anything. I’m sorry I’ve been so protective of you I just don’t want to lose you like I did your mom. Parker’s a good kid, he’ll take care of you and I’m sorry I embarrassed you, Y/n. I shouldn’t have reacted the way I did.” A small visible trail of salt tears were skimming down Steve’s cheek making you feel even worse for not telling him in the first place. “You didn’t embarrass me, dad. I’m sorry I didn’t tell you about Peter and I, I should’ve never tried to hide it from you at all.” Maneuvering around the long island you managed to throw your arms around your father’s broad shoulder hugging him tightly. He returned the gestured immediately and rubbed your back soothingly.

“It’s okay, sweetie. I can understand why you didn’t tell me, but from now on I want you to know you can be honest with me, okay?” He explained. You smiled happily and nodded your head in agreement.

A new presence filled the room as Bucky stood awkwardly by you two. Pulling apart Steve wiped his eyes and turned to your Uncle with curious eyes. Bucky threw his arm around your shoulder and chuckled loudly.

“You know Steve, I’m surprise it took you so long to figure out those two are dating. Natasha and I have caught them millions of time sneaking around the tower together.” Your eyes grew wide at his words. “Wait you knew?” You gaped up at him. James smirked down at you and ruffled your hair. “Of course I did. You guys aren’t exactly the best at keeping secrets.” Bucky teased reaching across the table to grab a purple plum from the bowl. Steve turned in his chair and stared at him in confusion. “Buck, why didn’t you tell me sooner?” He questioned. Chewing on the plump fruit Bucky shrugged. “Because I knew you’d freak out, besides they’re cute together and it was pretty amusing watching them think they were slik.” A faint blush painted your pale cheeks red. How had you not known Bucky had caught on to you and Peter? You thought you two were as careful as could be, what sort of slip up had you caused? Before you could push the matter anymore a loud knock on the front door cut you off. You dad excused himself and walked over to the door as you continued your discussion with Bucky who gave you a play by play on the exact moments he caught you and Parker together in the couple form.

A voice from the apartment door drew you away from Bucky and caused you to gaze over in realization. When Steve opened the door he was face to face with the one and only Spiderman who stood with his chest puffed out and a look of determination tracing his perfect features. You tried to signal to him from behind your father that you had worked everything out but he simply ignored you and started his mini rant.

“Hi Mr. Rogers, I’m sorry for dropping by unannounced but I needed to talk to you about Y/n and I. I’m sorry for disrespecting you and not telling you about how I feel for your daughter but I care about her a lot and you sort of intimidate me. Actually you really intimidate me and scare me a bit.  Anyways, I like Y/n a lot. She’s my closest friend and basically the only person I can relate to around here. I promise I have never nor do I plan on ever treating her wrongly, she means alot to me and she is beautiful and smart-” Stepping aside your dad motioned his arm towards the inside of you home and smiled warmly at the young teen.

“Peter would you like to come in for dinner? I was just about to put a pizza in the oven or maybe make some pasta. If it’s alright with your Aunt we would love to have you over.” Buck and you shared a look and snickered quietly watching the sudden mixture of dementedness and revelation. His hands were shoved in his pocket and he once again stumbled along with his words. “I- uh…um… you- well… yeah sure I g-guess. That uh- that sounds really nice.” Peter’s hand worked its way to the back of his neck scratching it uncomfortably. Steve shook his head and pointed his finger towards the kitchen. Peter’s big brown eyes landed on you the second he entered the room and his lips stretched.

“Y/n…” You gave him a small wave slowly making your way to him. Bucky sipped on his water trying to mask his laughter and avoid staring at you and Peter shifting awkwardly in front of each other. Steve bit his lips as he turned on the oven and strained his hearing hoping to catch in on your conversation.

“Hey Peter, what are you doing here?” You whispered grabbing ahold of his upper arm. Peter shrugged his shoulder and looked past you watching your dad pull a pizza out from a brown box.

“Well, uh it’s sort of lame but I came to talk your dad into letting us be together. I thought it would be all dramatic and he’d hate me but I think he took it pretty well.” Peter admitted. You could hear a muffled chuckle from your Uncle Bucky but he managed to replace it with a cough before Peter noticed.

Nodding you wrapped your arms around Peter’s waist and hugged him close. He reacted quickly, his hand reaching up to comb through your hair. With your head resting on his chest you gazed up at your boyfriend with a sweet smile,

“That’s so kind of you, my hero.”

Steve’s heart practically melted at the sound of your loving voice. As much as it hurt to see you growing up, Steve knew it was bound to happen eventually. Besides, he thought, things could’ve turned out much at worse, at least you weren’t seeing Deadpool.

-Daizy x

A/N: Okay, so I might have a slight obsession with Bucky being with kids but alas, the obsession continues… 

“Ugh, why won’t you stop crying?” I growled in frustration. The howling infant stopped for a second and looked up at my anguished expression. I thought that it had done the trick. He had stopped crying. I breathed a sigh of relief, but it was premature. He began to wail again and I was at a loss. It went without saying that I knew nothing about parenting or child care but when the owner of the diner where I worked asked me to babysit her four-month old baby for a week I jumped at the opportunity; simply because I needed the money.

I inspected the baby’s diaper and fed him but still he wouldn’t shut up. I didn’t know what else to do. It was only the first night and I was already losing my mind.

No amount of money could be worth this hell!

There was a hard knock on my front door. I assumed it was one of the residents of the building, coming over to complain about the screaming child at 11pm; probably that old hag Gertrude from the apartment upstairs. If it was her, I was going to give her an earful about how I never complained whenever she practiced for her irritating tap-dance class. I cracked open the door and peeked out,

“Can I help you?” I asked the man standing in the hallway. I had never seen him before.

“Look, I’m not trying to be an asshole but could you please keep your kid quiet? Some of us are trying to sleep here.” He wasn’t being rude and from the look of it, he really needed his sleep.

“Listen, buddy, I don’t appreciate you coming over here to…” The baby began to cry louder and drowned out my voice. Maybe he had a point. “…okay, I will see what I can do.” I sighed and the man smiled kindly before.

When I shut the door, the baby began to cry louder. I pressed my back against the wood of the door and sank to the floor, sobbing helplessly. Another knock, softer this time. “I said I will see what I can do!” I spat as I swung the door open. It was the same man as before. I wiped away my tears with the back of my hand and took a deep breath.

“Are you okay?” He asked as I sniffled and folded my arms across my chest. “I don’t mean to upset you but have you tried holding him?” I stepped aside and gestured for him to enter the apartment,

“be my guest. I can’t take this anymore!” The man looked hesitant, at first. He furrowed his brows and looked as if he was thinking deeply about what to do. “Well?” I asked expectantly and he stepped inside.

“Your apartment is really hot!” He complained as he removed his jacket. The shirt he wore underneath was long-sleeved as well.

“Yeah, the heat regulator is broken and I can’t afford to get it fixed just yet.” I confessed as I shut the door.

He pressed one knee onto the edge of the bed and unwrapped the blanket from around him as he lifted him into his arms with the gentlest touch; he was clearly afraid to the fragile infant. The baby curled into his body into the man’s arm and eventually stopped crying all together. “Wow, you’re really good at that.” I smiled as I watched him rock the baby back and forth slowly.

“See? He just wants to be loved.”

“Don’t we all?” I chuckled and the man smiled tightly. “You got a name?” It probably wasn’t a smart move to invite a man I didn’t know into my apartment. For all I knew, he could have been a mass-murderer. The man raised his head slowly before answering,

“Bucky.” I thought it was an odd name. I hadn’t met many men named ‘Bucky’ but I didn’t point that out. “You look a little young to be a mom; what’s his name?” He asked, wrapping his left arm around the baby’s leg. It was the first time I noticed that his fingers were metal.

“Err… he’s not my kid and his name is Christopher.” If he had any more questions, Bucky didn’t ask them. “Did you lose your arm in the war?” My curiosity got the better of me and I had to ask.

“Something like that.”

“Yeah, which one?” I placed my hand on his bicep, lightly. This guy was an all-round hero. He served his country, was great with kids and not that bad looking either.

“You wouldn’t believe me if I told you.” I was about to ask him to tell me more but he handed little Christopher back to me and grabbed his jacket from the chair. “I should get going, good luck with everything.” It was almost like my apartment was on fire and he needed to get out.

“Will I ever see you again, Bucky?” I didn’t want to come off too strong or too hopeful either. Bucky stopped in the doorway and looked at me over his shoulder.

“Maybe, one day.”  

Unfortunately, one day never came.