Summary - You take JJ's place in the Abandoned in Europe challenge in the Netherlands and end up teamed with Ethan. The finish line isn't the Amsterdam Lookout for you, it's Harry.
Based on this request
Warnings - Weed consumption. One mention of travel sickness, no actual mention of being sick.
Pairing - Harry Lewis x Reader, Best Friend!Behz x Reader (platonic)
Word Count - 3.2k
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JJ had pulled out of the Abandoned in Europe challenge at the last minute due to something unavoidable, meaning you were asked to fill in. Of course, you were happy to help. A day in the Netherlands, a fun, probably stressful, challenge of getting back to Amsterdam city centre with challenges in the way? Sounds fun.
You were all getting the mic packs on, ready to be blindfolded and put into the cars that would drop you wherever in the Netherlands. Simon and Vik were teamed together, Tobi and Harry, you and Ethan. Josh would be waiting at the Amsterdam Lookout for the rest of you when you finished the challenges and made your way back to the city.
You had to surrender your phones, even before you got in the car you were patting your pocket to look for it.
Harry stands with you, helping clip the mic into place. It's the little things he does, so considerately, so gently, that make you love him even more.
"You'll be alright," he says softly, not wanting the boys to overhear him being soft and getting (lovingly) rinsed for it, "you and Ethan will have a right laugh. Still gonna beat you though."
"Shut up, me and Behz are the dream team."
"Still, I've told him to look after you, bring you back in one piece."
"You do realise we're in the Netherlands, not a warzone. I'll be fine. You worry too much."
He does. All the time. Except when it comes to his own safety and he does something stupid.
"I worry the perfect amount."
-
In the car, you're sat with Ethan, cameras on, ready to go.
You and Ethan have been good friends since Harry introduced you, acting like the stereotypical older brother/younger sister duo. You always had a good laugh whenever you were paired together, the same humor, same energy, no need to rein it in with each other. Maybe that won't be a good thing for this challenge, maybe you'll miss your flight home. Who knows.
You pull your blindfolds on, ready for the however long drive to wherever in the country.
"Ready?" Ethan asks.
"Ready." You confirm.
"You taken a travel sickness pill?" He asks, probably been asked by Harry to remind you before you set off.
"Yes, dad," you sigh, shaking your head with a laugh, "I am an adult, you know?"
"And I'd prefer Bog didn't kill me if he knew I let you get sick."
"He literally watched me take it this morning."
It wasn't anything major. If you were sat in the front and could see where you were going you were fine. But in the back of the car, blindfolded, no clue even what direction you were going, it wouldn't be great.
-
Eventually, after god knows how long and a million laughs with Ethan, you were instructed to keep walking. It was so difficult to get your bearings, there was a slight breeze, the rustling of leaves, birds chirping too.
"Oh, fuck me," you exclaim, walking head first into a tree.
Ethan, ever so helpful, laughs, but because it's him you can't help but laugh too.
"Mate, we're never getting back to Josh," you laugh, waiting to be instructed to take the blindfolds off, "we'll end up lost and miss the flight. I mean, look who we're up against. Simon and Vik are... Simon and Vik. Harry's just weirdly good at stuff like this, reading maps and that, and Tobi's Tobi. What are we?"
"Two idiots with more nipples than brain cells?"
That just makes the two of you laugh all the more.
You. Are. Fucked.
-
You're in the woods.
Like, literally dropped in the middle of the forest somewhere. You can't read a map, the compass isn't working, and there's no one around to even ask where you are.
"Nah, nah, Josh has done us dirty here, ya know!" You look to the left, trees. You look to the right, trees. At least there's a path, but neither of you know whether to go left or right.
"I'm never gonna see Harry again. Are there bears in Dutch woods?"
Ethan just laughs at you and pulls out the card that has the challenges and requirements for the video.
"We cannot use a method of transport for more than twenty minutes. We must use six methods of transport including a boat and a bike."
"Easy, boat in the city, bike in the city. We're calm." You comment.
"Get a new outfit chosen by your team mate. Get a photo with the I Am Amsterdam sign. Eat a stroop waffle - mate I had four of them earlier."
"I had two for breakfast this morning, reckon that counts?" It doesn't, Josh isn't that nice.
"Wear wooden clogs. Find a windmill. Visit a coffee shop-"
"Waheeey." There's no way you and Ethan are going to a coffee shop for a latte.
"Get a photo with something orange, and the finish line is the Amsterdam Lookout."
-
You two end up wandering the woods for age. You put the compass around your neck and try to get it to work, as if you'd actually used a real compass before.
You end up spinning in circles trying to figure out where North is.
Ethan has the map trying to figure out which area of green could be where you are.
"I'll text Harry, ask where he's been dropped." you suggest, patting your pockets before realising. "For fuck sake."
Ethan, used to you and Harry, just shakes his head. "You two are fucking co-dependent man."
"I'm actually usually so smart though, today I can't even work a bloody compass or remember that I don't have my phone."
-
You two eventually find a building, presumably a visitor centre for the woods you've been dropped in.
"You go in, I'm not asking," you argue with Ethan in a hushed voice.
"I'm not asking, you do it."
He doesn't even care about asking, he's only arguing because he knows you don't want to.
"It's your video."
"You're such a fucking child, just ask."
"I'll tell Faith you're being mean to me."
"Fine... I'll ask."
The true brother/sister duo of the Sidemen family.
The lady kindly shows you where on the map you are, giving instructions on how to get to the nearest train station.
Success.
But, you have to walk all the way back through the woods. With Ethan. Winding you up every step of the way.
Great.
You end up finding a play park, the camera cuts to you pushing Ethan on the swing, the two of you acting like little kids as you take turns going down the slide.
The camera also catches when you go absolutely flying off the end of the slide, thanks to the Gym Shark leggings. Landing on the ground with a dull thud and a groan.
"Oh, fuck me."
Ethan's doubled over laughing as you lay flat on the ground, hands holding your probably bruised butt.
"Where's Harry when you need him, he'd kiss it better." you groan from the ground.
"I fucking bet he would." Ethan's in hysterics.
-
You head back the way you came, Ethan taking charge since he can read the map, kind of... he's at least better than you.
"I just don't think we're gonna win, you know."
"Now why would you say that? Why put that energy out into the universe?" Ethan asks offended, turning and walking backwards to face you.
"Because look at us!" you laugh, gesturing to the endless rows of trees around you. "and be honest, Ethan, when we're together we've got one brain cell that bounces between us. What hope have we got?"
"Okay, fair."
-
You end up walking the wrong way. You'd stopped to talk to a guy who ended up directing you left instead of right which added so much time onto the journey and no challenges had been completed yet.
"We could GTA someone off their bike," Ethan suggests as plainly as if he's talking about the weather.
"I could just flash them instead, probably the more legal option."
"Mmh, don't think bog would be too happy though."
"True... wonder where he is right now."
"Fuck sake... you're making me feel so wanted right now."
The dry huomour is typical you and Ethan. The way you both keep a straight face until it's quiet and then burst into laughter.
Hopefully getting closer and closer to civilisation, Ethan ends up sneezing right onto the map.
"Bro! What are you doing? Sneezing into the fucking map?"
Wrong thing to say, Ethan decides it's funny to chase you with the map trying to rub the sneeze covered map.
You end up wasting another five minutes acting like children.
-
You find out you're going the right way, walking through the woods still, but at least there's houses, or shacks.
“Imagine they’re just preying on the weak here, snatching them up out here.” Ethan says, gestuing to the eerie looking hut in between the trees.
“Nah, why would you even say that? And we’ve got to walk how far through the woods?”
“What? I’m just saying.”
“I wish I was on Harry’s team.”
-
“Bet you Harry and Tobi are doing so well, too. Like, Harry’s proper good at this type of stuff and Tobi’s Tobi.” All that’s in front of you is wood. No train station in sight even after what feels like hours of walking.
“I’m gonna need the coffee shop after all of this. We’ve no hope man.” Ethan agrees.
-
"Station!" Ethan yells, pointing to the sign for the train station, "in English!"
"Oh my god! We are so back on!"
You and Ethan go to high five, miss miserably and try again. The train to Amersfoort perfectly timed for your 20 minute time limit.
-
You eventually make it to Amersfoort.
You get your stroop waffles and an actual coffee, needing some sort of pick me up after an absolute trek through the forest.
You end up having to get a taxi, the bus just not a viable option and you'd rather save those methods of transport for when you're closer to the city. So, you're sitting on the bench killing time before the taxi arrives.
"Creature was shit," you start rapping Harry's diss track.
"Why did have to wait four months for it," Ethan joins in, nodding along to the imaginary beat you both know by heart.
"You said you were evolving but you didn't do bits," you sing together, "you just evolved into the first male with tits."
"In all fairness, JJ had bigger tits than me back then."
"So did I."
"Fair. Harry won the diss track era though, can't lie. I was singing that for months after it. Still do sometimes in the shower."
-
The taxi was a great shout. Every bit of doubt about coming last had vanished. You and Ethan were cocky, so sure of yourselves.
You decided to stop and get your outfits for the challenge. The hardest decision was, do you be nice to one another and give each other something nice, or do you humiliate one another?
Of course, you go with the latter.
Ethan ends up looking like a mixture between Arthur, the cartoon character, and a suburban dad.
“You look like I’d see you at the club and you’d go ‘Do you know who my father is?’” Your lovely camera man comments.
“But none of us do.” You reply.
“Oi!”
Ethan doesn't go easy on you either. You end up with a bright pink blouse that even your granny wouldn't wear, a matching pink cardigan and a long, black skirt.
"This is a fit, y'know. Ready for the Bingo at 7pm." You pose for the camera like it's Paris fashion week.
Somehow, even dressed like this, you end up paying a guy 250 Euros to give you a lift. That finish line getting closer and closer.
-
The car journey was a great laugh. The guys had the tunes on, you and Ethan looked utterly bizarre, dressed like weirdos and dancing in the back of some cramped, Dutch man's car.
You end up getting pulled over by the police because of the amount of people in the car.
The officer looks at you and Ethan like you had twelve heads and seven arms and asked if you were okay.
It was all good in the end, they waved you off and the driver with perfect comedic timing played Fuck the Police through the speakers as you drove away.
-
You make it into Amsterdam, a 20 minute taxi and a 20 minute car ride mean two modes of transport, plus walking and a train meant you only needed bike and boat which would be easy once you got further into the city.
"Coffee shop!" Ethan announces, and the two of you head in.
"Oh, mate! Red velvet cake!"
It obviously wasn't just a normal red velvet cake, you're in Amsterdam afterall.
You walk back outside, standing on a bridge to stay out of the way of the rest of the crowd.
Ethan halves the cake and both of you eat half. It'd be a while before it kicked in, so you decided to make the most of that time and get the rest of the challenges done.
The I Am Amsterdam sign has been removed, the only one now at the airport and fuck going back there, you wouldn't even have time for that. The shoe shop you went into didn't have wooden clogs, and the finish line was 'miles North'... and the edible was kicking in. All you and Ethan could do was giggle at every little thing.
"Could just sack it all off and go to the finish line?"
-
"Windmill!"
A tiny, ceramic windmill sat in the store front. That counts, it spins and everything.
Sorted.
-
You end up seeing a boat on the canal, step on and step off. Boat challenge done.
-
You're wandering down the street, heading in the general direction of the finish line.
“Mate, I’m getting higher and higher, and the higher I get the more I just want Harry.”
“Me too.”
“Don’t you mean Faith?”
“No.”
"Fair."
-
"Ohmygod, ohmygod, ETHAN!" You point to the overly large clogs on the ground in front of a shop.
"CLOGS!"
You each take turns stepping into them to get proof for the cameras, challenge complete.
-
After a bit of debating wether a guy driving you on a bicycle counted as the mode of transport, you decided it does. So you both hop in the back and the guy takes you towards the boat that will take you across the river right to the Amsterdam Lookout.
“And I would bike five hundred miles.” You sing, holding the go-pro out in front of you and Ethan.
“And I would bike five hundred more.” He joins in.
“Just to be the girl who biked a thousand miles to end up with Bogo.”
“You two are terrible, you know that?”
“Er, how?”
“You’ve only been away from him for like a few hours, and you’re sat there near salivating for the man.”
“I’m sorry, but have you seen my man?”
Yeah, okay, maybe it's sad that you miss Harry, but in all fairness Amsterdam is your place with him, first couples holiday and all that sentimental stuff, and you've had the special red velvet cake, and it's Harry Lewis, how could you not?
-
The ferry means you've completed the boat challenge legit, even better.
The closer you get to the look out, the more confident you are that you and Ethan have won.
The elevator inside is trippy as hell, even if you hadn't had the cake. Strobe lights moving with the way the lift goes up. Trippy, but cool as hell.
When you find josh, it's how marathon runners must feel beating their PR.
"Zerkaaa!" Ethan yells, finally seeing Josh.
"Joshuaaaa!" You mirror his excitement. "Who won?"
"You did!" He states with a grin.
"Yeaaah!" You and Ethan start celebrating, jumping, hugging, shouting.
What a win. You'd been so sure you were fucked after being dropped in the middloe of the woods like some sort of horror movie, then the guy giving you the wrong directions.
"What did you say earlier, Y/N? That we had one shared brain cell that bounces between us." Ethan laughs.
"We do, but that one brain cell was working overtime."
After you calm down a bit, buzzing you'd won your first Abandoned Challenge video, you ask Josh about Harry. "How far away is Harry?"
"Too far." He laughs, showing you on the map where Harry and Tobi are.
"Oh..."
"You sent us to a coffee shop that didn't sell coffee, by the way." Ethan tells Josh, not that he needs informing. You and Ethan are clearly faded, red eyes, giggling like children at the smallest thing.
"We got red velvet cake, it was class."
"Oh, for fuck sake," Josh sighs, laughing and shaking his head.
-
Simon and Vik turn up five minutes later. They'd tried to get on the same ferry across the river as you and Ethan but got stopped at the gate.
Harry and Tobi were like two hours away and with the flight home today you had to move the finish line to the hotel so you could all leave on time.
You'd changed out of the horrific old lady outfit Ethan gave you, back into one of Harry's SDMN hoodies and leggings. The full effect of the red velvet cake hitting as you sit walk back to the hotel to meet Harry and Tobi.
When you spot the tall blonde head you make a break for it, running and jumping onto his back.
"We won!" You yell in his ear without noticing your volume.
Harry and Tobi were in shock, looking at you and Ethan like they didn't believe it possible.
"Fuck off."
"No, I'm serious. Me and Ethan fucking smashed it! Got a red velvet cake too, I fell off a slide, paid some bloke to give us a lift, got stopped by the police too."
"You offered to flash someone so they'd give us their bike too!" Ethan grasses on you.
"You threatened to GTA someone for their bikes, mine was at least legal." You argue back, petty as always with Ethan.
Harry puts you down on the ground, taking out his own brownie as everyone talks about the days they've had. You tuck yourself into his side, faded and all you want is your man.
He passes you a quarter of the brownie, and Tobi, ever the responsible one tries to get you both to slow down.
"Mate, I need it after today, I fucking need it," Harry laughs, stuffing his mouth with weed brownie.
"Next time JJ has to cancel, you can be on my team," you smile dopily up at Harry, "We'll win for sure."
"Thanks, baby." He chuckles, brownie crumbs over his face.
"Oi, you didn't do fuck all, I read the map and asked people for directions," Ethan tells on you again. "All you did was talk about Bog."
"Er, I used the compass and got us the red velvet cake, you ginger prick."
You had a fantastic day, but you're so happy to have your man back. You and Ethan make a good team, but you and Harry are the dream team.
Summary - You and Harry are stressed and overstimulated at your own engagement party and can't just leave to go home, so you improvise and end up reminiscing about how far you've come.
Pairing - Harry Lewis x Reader
Warnings - Mentions of Harry's various injuries in videos. (Some of them still make me cringe😬)
Word Count - 1.9k
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The whole day had been stressing you out. Firstly the miscommunication between the caterers and the venue. Then your hair wouldn't cooperate when the stylist came to the house to do your hair for tonight, meaning the appointment ran over and the makeup artist was sat waiting for you to finish. Then you had a near meltdown because your skin wasn't as clear as it was for the makeup trial and it didn't look exactly the same.
Normally you'd be fine, you'd have done your hair and makeup on your own, but tonight isn't just any night. It's yours and Harry's engagement party.
Harry hates big events like this anyway, but you couldn't not invite people just because you didn't want a big event. The Sidement and partners alone were a lot, plus family, plus other very close friends. It was a lot, and neither of you would ever be able to say who not to invite. So, Harry had suggested renting the club that the Sidemen usually use for events in London, because fuck tidying up the house tomorrow after having everyone over, drinking and celebrating.
The night just ended up getting bigger and bigger. You wanted a cake, because obviously, and that then had to be big enough to cater to the massive guest list. Then you had to organise a caterer, because people would want food after a few drinks. Nothing too heavy, just picky bits, but again, there had to be enough for everyone.
It didn't matter how many of the girls had brought you over a glass of champagne, an XIX Vodka and lemonade, or a shot of something or other, no amount of alcohol would soothe your nerves.
Harry had been dragged into conversation with a group after group of friends, making his rounds as much as he hated it. The girls had pulled you away straight away too, for shots and dancing and the obligatory photo in the mirror in the toilets.
Despite everything running mostly smoothly, you were still on edge. The cake had gotten a tiny bit of damage in transport, the design smudged a little in the box but thankfully, one of the catering staff had managed to smooth it out and now it's only noticeable if you look for it.
Harry eventually manages to leave Freezy, Lux and Chip to their drinks, immediately finding you. You'd went to the bar for a virgin daiquiri, knowing if you ordered just an iced water you'd be (lovingly) rinsed by Freezy and Lux.
"Mate, why the fuck did we think this was a good idea?" He grumbles, standing behind you at the bar, wrapping his arms around your shoulders.
"We have too many friends," you reply, leaning back in his arms as you wait for your drink, even just having him with you is calming. "We're gonna have to do all of this again when we get married, you know."
"Nah, we're eloping," he says in a way you're not sure if he's joking or not. "Vegas, Elvis wedding chapel, ten grand on black"
Again, not sure if he's joking or not.
"Fuck off," you laugh, playfully nudging him with your elbow, taking your drink with a thanks to the bartender, "your mum would kill us for a start, and when we have kids I'm not telling them we got married by the King of Rock."
"Vegas for the honeymoon then."
"We'll go for a few days but I'm not spending my honeymoon watching you piss away all of your money in the casino." You counter, taking a sip of the drink, leaning your head back against his shoulder to look at him.
"Just tell me you don't love me then."
"You're right, I'm only with you for your body and bank balance."
"Right, well I'll just take this back then, shall I?" He jokingly snaps, reaching for your hand with the stunning engagement ring on.
You two laugh as you clamp your hand shut so he can't touch it. Virgin daiquiri sloshing dangerously close to the edge of the glass, so you put it down on the bar before it can splash all over your dress.
"Nonononono!" you laugh, fighting with him to keep your hand. "I love you, not just your body and your wallet."
The two of you need a moment like this, in your own little bubble, taking the piss out of each other. The noise of the club fading in the background, just you and your man.
Harry turns you around, big arms wrapped around your waist, head dropping to your shoulder. "I'm so overstimulated. Everyone keeps hugging me and congratulating us and I'm like 'yep, thanks', cause what else do I say. I'm too wound up to get drunk and all the shots and drinks are doing fuck all."
You laugh quietly, picturing his awkard face when he doesn't quite know what to say, or doesn't like too much attention on him. Ironic really, considering his work. But, you know really he's glad your friends are all here and happy for the two of you. You also know that sometimes when he gets like this he just wants quiet.
"Bog!" Ethan calls across the club, waving Harry over.
Harry groans against your shoulder. "Can we not just go home."
You hold up a hand to Ethan, gesturing to give Harry two minutes.
"Come on, let's have five minutes of quiet."
You lead him out past the bar area, to the room the venue had set aside to keep any gifts your friends had brought safe. There's a couch, table full of gift bags, and most importantly, the bass from the music is dulled.
Harry sighs in relief when he sits down on the couch, slouched back, eyes closed. He loves his friends, loves socialising, but sometimes it's just too much. All this fuss, celebrations, the stress to make sure everything goes well. It's only the engagement party, the stress will be tenfold on the lead up to your actual wedding day.
There's a few bottle gift bags on the table, you'd agreed to go through them tomorrow and send out thank you notes for everyone who brought a gift. There's a lot, which honestly should have been expected because of the sheer amount of friends you have.
You pick up one, labelled 'Love from Josh and Freya', inside a bottle of Dom Perignon.
"Oh, mum and dad got us the good stuff," you smile, holding up the bottle.
"Yours or mine?"
"Josh and Freya."
That causes the two of you to chuckle. Josh and Freya really are like mum and dad sometimes. The amount of times Harry has almost ended up in A&E or worse during Sidemen videos and Josh is the responsible one who looks after him. The numerous times Freya has been your big sister since you and Harry got together, always looking out for you, being your shoulder to cry on, giving the best advice when you need it.
You decide to save it until you'd enjoy it, instead you put the bottle back in the gift bag and plop down onto the couch next to Harry, sitting side on, legs draped over his lap.
Harry takes your hand in his, holding up your hand so the engagement ring sparkles in the light. He hadn't told you but he'd agonised over finding the perfect ring for months before even buying it, then agonised over where and when to propose for just as long.
He knew neither of you would want a public proposal, nothing too cliche like Paris, or one of those heart arches lined up on the street in Dubai or something. Definitely not on the pitch after the charity match, both of your faces would end up redder that the YT All Stars tops.
The way he proposed was perfect. He'd taken you to Bali, spent the day on a yacht, acting like your silly selves. You'd convinced him to play mermaids, obviously. He'd RKO'd you off the side of the boat in typical Harry fashion. When you got back to the villa, he waited for you to shower and then began setting everything up out on the deck of the villa. Candles, wine, your favourite dinner ready for you. It wasn't over the top, it wasn't overly mushy. It was perfect.
"Mad we're actually getting married, y'know," he murmurs.
"You did ask." You lean your head on his shoulder, careful not to get any makeup on his top.
"Clearly," he chuckles, "I just mean, sometimes I still feel like that idiot launching footballs at his mum's head, or jumping off the roof for content."
"Nah, I get you," you hum in agreement, "it's genuinely a miracle you're still a functioning person to be honest."
The ammount of injuries your fiance had injured himself was unreal. The paintball gun shots to the back in your old flat, next to a glass window mind you. The time he tried to jump up on the car in the Sidemen video and and litereally landed on his head in a carpark, that was horrific. The time he 'fell' off the roof at his parents house, but actually grazed the skin off his elbow. The bruised ribs from the trampoline park. And the rest.
"Actually, it's a miracle you're still alive. It's a good job you are though, wouldn't want to be doing this with anyone else?"
"Hiding from our friends and family or getting married?"
"Both."
You've got an arm around his shoulders, nails gently running through the hair at the back of his head. Neither of you are really big on PDA, but when it's the two of you at home, he loves your nails scratching over his scalp, his back, his arms.
"I know what you mean though, feels like we should still be in your old flat reacting to JJ firing shots at me in a diss track."
Harry laughs, that era of YouTube was mental, but you're proud to say you know all the words to his diss tracks and he definitely won that era. JJ had called you a gold digger, but hey, he said you knew how to suck. He wasn't wrong on that part.
"Or filming cross bar challenges, try not to laughs." he continues, the nostalgia of the old Sidemen videos bringing back so many memories.
"Or smashing your TV, multiple times, or the monitor, or your chairs, or screaming at the screen over Fifa," you list off teasingly, old W2S was and will always be iconic. "But now look at you. You've grown up so much, got Sides, Side+, XIX Vodka, Sidemen Clothing, Inside, the documentary on Netflix. You're not just a YouTube channel, you're literally a brand, and the fans have grown up with you."
It is crazy to think about. When you announced your engagement online there were a lot of comments about W2S being engaged before GTA 6. Valid, to be fair. You'd both grown up together, grown up in front of Harry's audience, grown up alongside them. Now, you're starting a life together, planning a future instead of just going with the flow.
"Proud of you, you know," you murmur, softly pulling his head towards yours for a kiss.
Nothing too passionate, just soft, loving, savouring the quiet moment between the two of you.
He hums against your lips, pulling away just enough. "Love you. "
"Love you too."
You sit in a comfortable silence for a few moments before deciding that you'd better head back out to the party, both feeling a million times calmer. Sometimes all you need is ten minutes with your man to remind you that everything is fine.
Just as you reach the door leading to the club, he tugs your hand to pull you back to his chest. His hands cup your jaw, tilting your head so he can kiss you once more.
🫶🏻summary: making azriel blush shouldn’t be so easy.
Azriel was the definition of broody.
Cold.
Unfazed.
The way his hazel eyes held so much boredom—you hated all of it.
So, you came up with a teensy, tiny little plan.
Getting a reaction out of him seemed nearly impossible. He had seen it all, learned it all, and heard it all. But the way he tried to act nonchalant whenever he blushed? That was his - and your - weakness.
The plan was simple: make him blush whenever and however you could. Because seeing that pink hue slowly creeping up his neck, ears, and handsome face?
It triggered ovulation.
The plan began one morning during training. He was already there with Cassian, their eyes still bleary at the crack of dawn, wings slightly droopy and senses a little dull. You greeted both of them, your eyes slowly but surely locking onto Azriel.
He stood tall, shadows swirling lazily around his broad shoulders, wings stretching wide. Yet, it was the dark circles under his beautiful eyes that made your heart squeeze painfully.
You knew he worked too hard and barely slept; with whatever strength he had left, he tried to put up a facade, masking the way his guard was cracking. You hated Rhysand a little for that.
Cass and Az slowly began to circle each other, swords raised high and eyes now determined. Sweat glistened on both men.
You couldn't help but shout when Azriel passed you a fleeting look.
"That shirt's doing you no favors. Take it off!"
Cassian roared with laughter, his head thrown back and shoulders shaking.
Azriel, though? He froze. His eyes widened, but there wasn't a hint of annoyance in them. And when his cheeks warmed fast, the color rising before he could stop it?
You pocketed it like a total victory.
—-
Dinner at the River House could be described in one single word: chaos.
Nyx was throwing food left and right while Feyre tried desperately to stop him. But before either parent could react or reach him, his spoon was already raised, sending food flying across the table. Cassian laughed, chewed food displayed in his open mouth as he ate like a pig, earning a sharp scolding from Nesta for his childlike manners. Meanwhile, Mor was drinking more wine than should be humanly possible, and Amren sat silently—or not so silently—judging everyone in the room.
After surviving the ordeal of dinner, wine glass in hand, you sat down next to Azriel on the couch. His wings automatically curled around you, creating a private, shadowed cocoon. You fought the blush trying to creep up your own cheeks; it wasn't your turn to blush.
"I can feel your heartbeat. Is that for me?" you asked innocently, blinking up at him from under your lashes.
Azriel looked completely dumbfounded, though a small smile tugged at his lips. "People who tend to be alive usually have heartbeats."
"Ah. Boring."
He raised an eyebrow, his fingers tapping a slow rhythm against his muscular thigh. "What's boring about being alive?"
"You, not getting flirty," you stated as a matter of fact.
His lip twitched. "Are you trying to flirt with me?"
"Yes. Is it working?"
He looked entirely taken aback by your straightforwardness. He didn't say a word, entirely trapped as he held your gaze. He cleared his throat, but no sound followed.
Yet, under the warm, golden lights of the sitting room, a soft heat settled across his face, completely giving him away.
You bit your bottom lip, a huge, satisfied grin spreading across your face.
—-
Fighting consciousness after a wild night at Rita’s—when Cassian would bribe you into shot competitions you always lost—was nothing compared to this. Hangovers were a joke. Nobody ever told you how exhausting it actually was to fight for your life while actively bleeding out.
"You fucking idiot," Azriel hissed.
His voice didn't have its usual icy calm; it was raw, jagged with a panic you’d never heard from him before. He dragged you behind a shattered stone wall for safety, his large, scarred hands slamming down onto your side. The agonizing pressure made you hiss, your heels digging into the dirt.
"When have I ever told you to jump in front of a lethal blow, you nuisance?" Azriel’s shadows were frantic, whipping around him in a chaotic storm as he desperately tried to stanch the flow of blood. "Look at me! Open your godsdamned eyes, for fuck's sake!"
You forced your heavy eyelids up, your vision blurring at the edges. Even covered in grime and terror, he was beautiful.
"I like the way you say my name," you whispered, a weak smile pulling at your lips. You could taste the copper coating your teeth. "Say it again."
"Mother above, shut up," he choked out, his hands trembling against your wound.
"But you like it... when I say shit like that."
"I fucking do!" He yelled, a fierce, desperate sound. "But you have a death wish, I swear to the Cauldron. Don't you dare close your eyes."
"One kiss before I die?" you coughed.
"You are not going to die!"
"So... no kiss?" you murmured, your lips pouting.
"You can get a kiss when you stop being so godsdamn reckless," he promised fiercely, leaning down so his forehead rested against yours, his breath hot and ragged.
Despite the horror of the blood on his hands, despite the battle raging around you, a stark, unmistakable heat bloomed along his cheekbones, vivid against his pale skin. He couldn't hide it, no matter how hard he tried.
You were going to be the death of him, surely—if you didn't survive this first.
—-
Azriel was hunched over a stack of reports. His eyes were intensely focused on the text, yet his shadows were deeply restless.
"You're staring," he said, stating it as a simple matter of fact without even looking up from the papers.
"I am," you replied calmly, cradling a warm cup of coffee in your hands.
He let out a quiet sigh, but the faint ghost of a smile lingered on his lips. You strolled over to where he sat, leaning over his shoulder under the pretense of being deeply curious about his work. At your proximity, his shadows darted toward his ears, then splattered down across the floorboards, a few brave tendrils winding playfully around your ankles.
His massive wings widened slightly, twitching in a sudden flash of tension.
"You're standing really close," he murmured.
"Yeah? Are you gonna move?" You raised an eyebrow, looking down at him expectantly as you took a slow, deliberate sip of your coffee.
Azriel snorted, finally looking up to meet your gaze. His expression was calm and cool, but not entirely collected—a faint, telltale color was spreading across his cheekbones, subtle but impossible to ignore.
Yet, when he spoke, his voice didn't waver a bit. "You know exactly what you're doing to me, don't you?"
Your heart skipped a beat.
"I could ruin you," you countered, your voice dropping, trying to hold your ground.
Azriel’s smile softened into something devastatingly handsome. "I know."
And just like that, under the weight of his unyielding gaze, he managed to make you blush at your own game.
Description: Things between you and Azriel had been going great, until he comes home from a mission wrapped around another. Realizing it wasn't as serious to him, you run. Just intending to take a walk, things go south when you realize you're in trouble... and the shadowsinger might just not care.
Tags/ Warnings: Angst, injury, hurt/comfort, Azriel is a meanie, Cassian being Cassian.
Smoothing the skirts of your gown, your gaze couldn't help but fall on the necklace you hadn't taken off in weeks. Azriel had gifted it to you for solstice, the blue of the gem looking suspiciously similar to that of his siphons.
You wouldn't say you were courting, per se. Your relationship had simply bloomed on its own into something neither of you had ever bothered to name.
Your fingers drifted over the stone's surface, and for the first time all day, the tightness in your shoulders began to ease. Azriel was meant to be home tonight.
It was no surprise to you that Rhysand had deemed Azriel's mission over the same night he intended to host a feast for the inner circle and outside friends. According to your High Lord, Azriel was due back any moment now, the details of his mission unbeknownst to you. You were just excited to see him.
Azriel had gone on a few missions since this relationship had intensified, the male always seeking you out the second his feet touched down on the balcony of the house of wind.
You hadn't intended to miss him so much. Things were still fairly new, and to feel this attached to him was almost alarming. You weren't used to having someone to wait for, unsure if you should act overly joyful at his return or a little more nonchalant.
Shaking your head for some clarity, you let your gaze fall upon your figure one last time. You had chosen the best getup you had available for the occasion, something in you itching to see the reaction of the shadowsinger. The dark fabric and intricate lace might have been on purpose to reference his shadows, but that was insignificant.
He always took you in appreciatively, whether in a nightgown or training leathers, his gaze slowly dropping to your feet before rising to your face. You felt your cheeks heat at the memory of the way his eyes darkened when landing on you.
Finally tearing your gaze from the mirror, you cleared your throat from the intensity before making your way out of your bed chambers.
The violins grew louder as you neared the party, your shoes clicking lightly against the stone of the ground beneath you. Finally catching sight of a few guests, you sighed in relief when your eyes fell on Mor already chatting up a familiar looking couple.
Timidly approaching her, you let your hand meet her arm before she turned to look at you, her gaze lighting up immediately at the recognition.
"Finally! I was starting to think you weren't coming!"
You giggled as her arms wrapped around your neck, her stance slightly wobbly likely from the wine glass already clutched in her fire red nails.
"I see someone has already cracked open the wine..."
She lightly smacked at your still outstretched hand, the glass sloshing lightly at her movements. Pulling entirely away from the couple she was previously speaking to, she wrapped her arm around yours before leading you deeper into the party.
"Ha. Ha. Very funny. I know you're just itching for a glass yourself." She huffed, heels clacking along as she kept her pace beside you.
An hour or two later, you were three glasses in, watching amusedly as Cassian reenacted an interaction he had in the market earlier this week.
"I don't understand why it's so laughable that I, warlord and killer of men, would be interested in personal hygiene?! You should've seen the females giggling from the stall over!"
A content laughter settled among the few fae around him, his expression exaggerated as if waiting for someone to answer his rhetorical question. Just when he seemed ready to continue, his posture stiffened at something he was seeing behind your back.
Furrowing your brows in confusion, you went to look behind you when Cassian's hand suddenly landed on your shoulder.
"Hey! Why don't we- uh- would you like to come get a drink with me?"
You could see the nervous gulp trail down his throat as his gaze searched yours, his eyebrows lifted almost in a plead as he gently pulled you toward him. Glancing down at your almost full wine glass, you lifted your gaze back to him confused, raising it slightly to catch his attention. It would have almost been comical if he didn't look so close to soiling his trousers.
"Not you, silly! Me! I need a drink, you know, all this 'working the crowd' has really dried out my thr-"
His plead was interrupted by a few gasps from the fae around you, your attention quickly snapping back to the situation at hand. Just as you went to turn around a second time, Cassian quickly pulled you again, your wine splashing over the rim and onto your fingers.
"Hey! What is going on with you? What is everyone starting at-"
Just as the words passed your lips, your gaze finally landed behind you. Across the party, an unmistakable spymaster was stood in the crowd. Feeling your pulse increase at his presence, you let your body fully turn in his direction, eager to greet him.
You were stopped in your tracks as your gaze lowered, your feet coming to an abrupt halt when you noticed a manicured hand wrapped around his bicep. Eyes quickly shooting to his right, you felt your heart stop entirely as your eyes fell on a beautiful fae woman. His eyes were on her as she laughed, her gaze more than friendly as she looked up at him.
All you could manage was a small "Oh." as Cassian appeared at your side, his hand finding your arm and tugging again.
Letting him steer you away from the sight, the gears in your mind began turning as you walked with him to his unknown destination. Voices invaded your mind, whispers from the party guests. Statements along the lines of "Azriel never brings a female" or "I wonder if he has found his mate". You only snapped out of your spiral momentarily when you heard a door shut behind you.
"Look y/n. I know what it looks like. Just listen to me-"
You raised your hand abruptly, cutting him off.
"What it looks like? Cass, it's what it is. You don't have to try and spare my feelings."
Cassian ran a hand through his hair, a frustrated sigh leaving his lips.
"No y/n seriously. Let me explain."
You took in his devastated features, matching his look with your own. How awful that Cassian would have to be the one to let you down easily, his own brother too occupied to reject you himself.
"No Cass. It's fine. You don't have to explain for him."
You quickly turned away from him, dropping your glass on a nearby table. You didn't realize you were crying until you caught your reflection in the mirror above it, tears trailing through the makeup you had spent hours perfecting.
Steeling yourself in the reflection, you didn't let Cassian speak another word before you were gone. The rage and utter betrayal in your mind blending into one tainted landscape. Where the winds matched the ice you felt in your veins, the temperatures as brutal as the thrum in your heart.
Landing on your knees, you didn't even have to look up to know where you had landed. The snow cushioned your fall, pooling around the skirts of your gown. Your chest rose and fell rapidly as you stared, watching as a thin layer of sleet covered your lap almost instantly.
Letting your hands fall to your sides, your fingers didn't even flinch as they came in contact with the freezing sludge beneath you. You just sat there, letting your body become one with the elements and bring you back to reality.
It didn't take long before you felt the biting chill racing across your skin, your gown not doing anything to shield from the biting winds. It was refreshing.
This place was not unfamiliar. You had been here before, many times. When you had nightmares, when you were so overwhelmed with emotion you couldn't escape, your mind always conjured you here. You don't know why, but the place that once seemed to frighten you was now calling with open arms. The one place nobody knew. The place of your deepest fears, now becoming your sanctuary.
Nobody would be crazy enough to follow you out here. Even if they somehow knew where you were.
It felt like hours had passed when you finally stood. Body uncontrollably jerking with the cold, you forced yourself onto unsteady feet. Letting your gaze fall on your destination, you took in the twisted black trees and steady downpour of sleet. The hairs on the back of your neck immediately stood. Something was watching from the darkness.
Whipping around at a cracking twig beside you, your hands immediately raised in defense, body tightening with anticipation. Feeling your breaths tumble past your lips, you couldn't help the jumps in your muscles from the freezing temperatures. As you squinted through the snowfall, you made out a large figure twisting its' way through the forest.
You jumped when you heard another sound behind you, forcing you to take your eyes off the first creature and check your blindspot in case of an ambush. Not seeing anything, you quickly whipped your head back to the original threat, but were shocked into a gasp when the creature appeared right in front of you. Tripping over your own feet, you gathered your skirts in your hand and ran.
Jumping over roots, ankles twisting and bending at awkward angles, you ran through the snow as fast as you could. Your toes were numb as the snow soaked through your slippers, making it even harder to measure your steps. You checked behind you every few steps, anguish crawling up your throat in a scream as you realized it was gaining on you faster than you anticipated.
Deciding running wasn't going to save you, you swallowed your fear and stopped your steps. Whipping around, you prepared to strike at the monster on your heels. A shudder crashed through you at the sight of it.
It was nothing you had ever seen before. A large reptile-like head rested on an even larger body, the moon glinting off of massive claws digging into the slush before you. It's long serpent-like neck twisted and turned as it looked at you, teeth baring and tongue lashing curiously as it sized you up.
You didn't even have a chance to take in the creature before it was pouncing, teeth chomping at the space your head was just in. Dodging, you tucked and weaved as quickly as you could to dodge its' blows. As you danced around the creature, you could hear its' voice in hissing whispers, and one of them made you stop dead in your tracks.
"The Ssssspymasssterssss mate!"
You could only stare as its' tongue flicked with each 'S', a pang of confusion almost knocking you back harder than one of the creature's blows.
Your moment of pause would cost you.
Before you could even utter a word, one of the creatures scaled legs soared, its claws sinking right into your side. You could feel as each claw pushed through your ribs, nothing but a small wheeze escaping as you held the intense eye contact. The searing pain was nothing compared to the memory you'd have of those eyes, holding your own like it never wanted you to forget. Your body had no choice but to collapse where you stood, the world blurring until you were looking up at the sky above you. You could barely make out a scaled tail whipping above you as the creature slipped into the night.
Your hand clutched your side, white hot pain shooting through you. You sucked in a ragged breath, only for it to catch as fluid invaded your lungs. A harsh cough wracked your body, your body convulsing and warm liquid spilling out onto your face.
Trying and failing to suck in a full breath, your battered body jerked and pulsed with the pain, your vision becoming hazy for a moment before focusing back on the night sky. You could feel the sleet hitting your face harshly, forcing your eyes to blink rapidly.
The wind howled around you, the once still trees looking alive as the rays of the moon slipped between their branches. You could hear the whistle of the wind through them, creaks and groans echoing around you at the pressure pushing against them.
Just as your vision blurred a second time, you thought you heard something. Your fae ears twitched, straining against the raging winds around you. Hope bloomed in your chest, fragile, as you listened.
There it was.
Faint at first, then louder.
"Y/n!" a voice bellowed through the trees. "Answer me, sweetheart!"
Your heart lurched.
Azriel.
Every instinct urged you to call out, to let him know you were here and you needed him. You opened your mouth, but only a weak broken gurgle escaped past the blood on your lips. Pain ripped through your chest.
You didn't realize you were crying until you felt the shrill trail of tears down your temples, the realization that Azriel wouldn't find you in time bringing a rough cry past your lips.
Your heart lurched a second time as another shout cut through the trees.
"Y/n?" His voice cracked with panic. "I hear you, baby."
Footsteps thundered through the forest, growing closer with every passing second, branches snapping beneath his steps. Shadows stirred between the trees, racing ahead of their master.
"I'm coming." he called, breathless. "Hold on for me. I'm coming."
Your blurry gaze catches a movement in the tree line before you, branches separating and snow falling as a tall figure bursts through. Before you can even orient yourself Azriel has landed on his knees beside you, the glow of his siphons drawing your focus to his chest.
Hands come up to cradle your face, your eyes flickering to his own as his head blocks your line of sight to the sky above. You can feel the trail of blood running down your chin when you attempt to smile up at him.
You can feel his hands leave your face as he assesses your body, another gurgle coming from you when his hand comes in contact with the wound on your side.
“I know, baby. I’m sorry.” he coos, his free hand coming back up to wipe at the tears rolling down your temple.
Your hand comes up to grab at his resting on your hair now, your own blood coating your fingers visible in your peripheral.
A broken sound leaves his lips as you choke once again, an almost feral growl you had never heard from him before.
His shadows slowly start to surround you, and before you can attempt another breath, his face steeles into one of resolve.
“I’m going to winnow you. I have to get you back to Velaris so Madja can help.” his hands automatically start moving to hold your body to his, one sliding beneath your back and the other cradling the back of your head.
At the movement, you can’t help the wince that tumbles past your lips.
“I know it hurts, sweetheart. But you have to stay with me, okay? Can you do that for me?” his eyes are pleading when he locks them with your own, his breaths trembling.
With as much of a nod as you can muster, you brace yourself for the pain about to consume you.
Azriel brings your body to his, tucking your face into the crook of his neck. You watch in awe as the shadows surround you fully. You had never been surrounded by such complete and utter darkness.
You can hear Azriel talking to you, a repeated “I’m sorry. I’m so fucking sorry” passing through your ears as the world around you disappears.
With the warp through time, you can feel your entire being teetering over the edge of life and death. The pressure on your limbs is so strong you can do nothing but hold your breath, praying to the mother that you make it to the other side.
Azriel might love another, but you still have friends, a family waiting for you. Even though your heart was on the verge of breaking, you still had hope. Hope for happiness and a future where you didn’t feel like this.
Just as a bright white began taking over your vision, Azriel clutching to you like he would never let go again, the shadows dissipated. You could feel the coolness of their embrace leave you suddenly, before your consciousness began to fade.
Muffled in the background, you could hear Azriel yelling. “Get Madja! She doesn’t have much longer. She can’t breathe.” tore through his lips as your body transferred from his to a softer surface. You finally could let your mind relax.
The first thing to return to you was sound. You could hear the faint crackling in the hearth, a soft sound coming from the fae lights around you. Letting your ears tune into the new environment, your fingers began searching of their own volition.
A soft, familiar texture smoothed under your fingertips, the warmth of the comforter feeling foreign after so long in the cold.
Clearing your throat, your eyes immediately popped open when you realized that there was no longer anything interfering with your breaths.
It took a moment for your vision to clear, almost as if the sleet had to clear away before you could fully take in your surroundings. Slowly sitting up, you winced at the pinch in your side.
Your brows furrowed as you realized that this was not your room. The dark bedding and wall of daggers gave you a good idea of whose bed you were occupying, but you weren’t sure why.
Realizing you were alone in the room, you forced your legs to swing over the side of the bed, the grunt of effort an added reminder of the trauma your body had gone through.
You didn’t even stop to take in your appearance, which you were sure had been cleaned up by some form of magic, before tiptoeing through the cracked bedroom door.
It took a couple of stops against the wall before you began hearing muffled voices in the dining room. Your fae healing had gotten you this far, but you weren’t entirely confident in your own movements.
Steeling yourself and taking a calming breath, you prepared yourself to see the Illyrian you were sure held your broken heart in his own two, scarred, hands. Right as you were about to round the corner, you stopped again when you heard the smooth timbre of his voice rumbling through the room.
“And nobody thought to fucking tell her that?”
Realizing you were the topic of discussion, you decided to stop the inevitable and make your presence known. You only made it two steps into the room before every head snapped in your direction, and another two before your body was brutally crushed into an embrace.
“Oh, thank the mother! I am so glad you’re alr- wai- what are you doing out of bed?!” Mor’s voice screeched against your ear. You could only wince as she bombarded you, her arms immediately pulling back as she jerked herself away from you.
You only smiled apologetically at her as her expression filled with guilt. It only took two seconds before that look turned into one of gratitude, her body coming in to hug you a lot more gently the second time around.
A round of agreements and scolds met you as Mor finally released you, your gaze jumping around the room to take in the entire inner circle. Out of nerves, your eyes purposely avoided the darkest corner of the room.
You could feel the cool drag of shadows as they assessed your frame, only steeling yourself further until they were content and sliding back to their master.
As all eyes stayed locked on your form, you finally cleared your throat once more before letting out a scratchy “Anyone got any water?”
After what felt like hours, you had finally finished explaining every detail of your mishap with the serpent like creature. Leaving out the tidbit about your rescue, everyone seemed content enough to begin parting for their own duties. With an order to rest and hydrate, you also turned to leave the dining room when a deep voice stopped you in your tracks.
“Can we talk?”
Your body felt frozen as you took in his voice. A mixture of exhaustion and sadness finding you from across the room.
Keeping your back turned to him, you let everybody else pass you by before swallowing your nerves and turning to face him.
You could only bring yourself to look at his chest, his fighting leathers now traded for a black shirt and trousers. You could see the daunting outline of his wings behind him, your fingers immediately coming to twist in front of you.
You tucked a stray hair behind your ear, gaze dropping as you waited for him to break the silence.
It took a few long moments, but the first words to leave him almost had your mouth dropping in shock.
“Can you look at me please?”
Your eyes immediately lifted to his own, a frown of confusion painting your face when you took in the sight of him.
His hair was disheveled as if he had been vigorously running his fingers through it, his under eyes dark and a shadow forming on the lower half of his face.
Just as you went to blurt out something, anything, his form crossed the room. He looked almost afraid to get too close to you, choosing instead to stop with a good yard of distance between you.
Your eyes flickered between his own as you processed your thoughts, unsure what you were really supposed to say. Before you could get out a word, his rough voice stopped you again.
“How are you feeling?”
You were a bit taken aback by his question. A few embarrassing stutters leaving you before you finally coughed up a quick “Good. I feel pretty good.”
Your fingers kept violently twisting as he eyed you up and down, your brain bouncing a million different questions around before it finally settled on one.
You didn’t even have a moment to second guess before the words were forcing past your lips.
“Am I your mate?”
A look of certain shock passed over Azriel’s face before he steeled himself again, his mouth opening and closing like a fish out of water. His hand came up to run through his hair as his face portrayed the inner turmoil clearly a jumbled mess in his brain.
“I only ask because before that… snake thing… attacked me it hissed out something along the lines of ‘the spymaster’s mate’ and it really confused me because after the party I’m not really sure what’s going on. I understand if you were planning to reject the bond for that female but why string me along before then, you know? I thought something was forming between us but now I think I might have just been exaggerating things in my own mind- I mean, that woman was beautiful, and I understand why you would choose her over me but-“
You only stopped to take a breath as Azriel roared a growl, your body flinching back as he whirled towards the dining table. He looked as if he was about to break something before his hand came up to rub at his chest.
Your shocked gaze stared at his back as his shoulders heaved, his wings twitching wildly before pulling tightly back into their normal position.
A sigh that carried the weight of the world left him before he whirled back around, his legs taking two more steps toward you. His hand reached out as if to touch you before he seemingly thought better of it and brought it back to pinch at the bridge of his nose instead.
“Reject you? Y/n, please, you’re killing me.” his face held nothing but anguish as he brought his gaze back up to meet yours. “Rhysand asked me to escort that female to the party. She was linked to some Illyrian’s we’ve been monitoring and he wanted me to get more intel. Fuck, I would’ve never- I never- Cassian was supposed to tell you. He was supposed to tell you before the party started but he was too busy following Nesta around like a lost pu- oh fuck this.”
He seemed to decide against the last part of his explanation before he closed the rest of the distance between you. Your breath caught at the proximity when his hands came up to cradle your jaw, his eyes piercing yours as a confused furrow took over your brow.
Without realizing, your hands came up to grip his forearms, your eyes fleeting between his own as you processed his words.
His body only pressed closer to yours as you hesitated, the gears running a mile a minute in your mind.
“I swear to you, y/n. There is no one else in this galaxy I would’ve rather been with than you. I hate that you even questioned my feelings for you. I’m yours. I have been since the day we met.”
His eyes only intensified his words as you searched them, the gold flecks throughout his orbs almost glowing as they locked with yours.
You felt the trail of a tear before you could stop it, your lip wobbling for a reason unbeknownst to you. Azriel was quick to wipe it away, his forehead coming down to rest against yours. His voice lowered to a whisper as he continued.
“I almost lost it when I heard you were missing. I don’t even remember leaving the party or how I knew where to find you. I would tear this world apart inch by inch if it meant keeping you safe, sweetheart. I promise you that.”
Your breath shuddered through a gasp as more tears made their way down your cheeks. Letting your eyes fall closed, you shook your head against his before meeting his gaze again.
“So basically you’re saying that my disappearance was a slight overreaction?” you whispered, your teeth finding your lip as you waited for his reaction, a smile threatening to break out on your face.
Azriel shuddered a laugh of disbelief, his hands pulling you fully into his embrace. You could’ve sworn you saw a slight wetness in his eyes before your face was tucked firmly into his neck.
You and Azriel had reluctantly split after your embrace caused a sudden twinge in your side, his warmth immediately turning into panic at the wince that left your lips.
You had parted with the promise that you would get some rest before finding him in the morning to finish your conversation.
Flipping harshly onto your other side, you sighed in frustration as sleep continued to evade you. Every time you closed your eyes you saw manicured nails, serpent like eyes, and the look on Azriel’s face as it assessed your form on the floor of the woods. Also, the mantra of mate, mate, mate playing on a loop in your mind didn’t help.
Kicking the blankets off of your legs, you didn’t give yourself time to rethink your movements as you tiptoed out of your bedroom and towards Azriel’s. Pausing at his door, you let your knuckles lightly tap the surface before you heard a quick “Come in”.
Pushing past the threshold, you let the door close behind you before you made yourself as small as possible in his doorway. Wringing your fingers again, you slowly gazed up at Azriel, sitting wide awake in bed with a book resting on his chest.
You twisted your mouth in contemplation before letting out a small “I can’t sleep.”, your gaze dropping to your bare feet before snapping back up at the sound of rustling blankets.
Azriel had lifted his duvet, his body sliding further into the bed as he gestured for you to join him.
Shyly stalking towards his bed, you gently climbed into the open space next to him before his hands immediately made contact and brought you into his embrace.
The position almost ended up being a horizontal hug, your head tucked under his chin. One arm was wrapped around your waist as the other rested under your head, his hand coming up to twist a strand of your hair. His wing folded over the both of you, the lights instantly dimming into a soft glow through the membrane.
You slowly tilted your head back to meet his eyes, chewing on the inside of your cheek as you took in his features. Letting it out as a whisper, you started with “I’m sorry for bothering you..” only to be immediately cut off.
Azriel tucked your head back into his neck, his chest rising with a deep inhale before he whispered back.
pairing: harry lewis x reader
synopsis: a chaotic night at sidemen hijingo takes a blurry turn when you lose all focus on the game and completely abandon your team to find cozy, clingy comfort on your boyfriend's lap.
word count: 3.8k
tags/warnings :alcohol consumption, clingy reader, established relationship, fluff
“Welcome to Sidemen Hijingo!”
The room erupted into cheers and applause as Simon’s voice echoed through the venue.
Purple and pink neon lights washed over the venue, reflecting off glasses scattered across each table. Conversations overlapped from every direction as everyone started getting comfortable in their seats, already laughing amongst their teammates before the game had even begun.
You were teamed up with Tobi, Becky, and Pie, seated right in between them with your first bingo card and drinks splayed across the table.
“I just know that today is going to end badly for me.” You said turning to Tobi.
“For as long as you follow the rules and don’t say Hijingo, don’t worry I got you.”
“Of course you do, ya big softie.”
Across the room, you caught sight of your boyfriend Harry, with his own team staring at you.
The second he noticed you looking back at him, he grinned and sent you a thumbs up.
You rolled your eyes, and turned back to Simon as he continued to list the rules, asked for team names and started the first round.
Immediately, everyone’s attention snapped towards the front to see the first number call out.
“Number Twenty-seven”
Chaos had well and truly commenced.
Round after round, drink after drink, mystery challenge after mystery challenge, nobody seemed capable of staying quiet for longer than five minutes.
Every few moments, another table would erupt into cheers or groans, followed almost immediately by someone insisting the game was rigged in their favour or against it.
Your team, somehow, was doing well.
Mostly because Tobi seemed to have developed an unnatural ability to spot numbers before they even properly registered on the screen.
The moment one appeared, he was already leaning forward.
“We’ve got that.”
“Tobi, this is getting ridiculous,” Becky laughed as she marked another square.
“I’m just efficient.”
“Of course, it’s literally thee TobJZL,” Pie added, though he was smiling into his drink.
Tobi sat back like he’d just been crowned champion of something far more important than bingo.
Across the room, another team erupted into cheers, followed instantly by loud, dramatic protests from somewhere else. The entire venue never really settled; it just shifted between different bursts of noise...
You found yourself smiling at it all without really thinking, resting your chin in your hand.
The drinks didn’t help.
Not in a way that made anything unclear or blurry.
Just in a way that made everything feel slightly softer at the edges. Easier to drift through. The loud voices around you started to blend into a warm, comfortable background track.
You took another slow sip of your drink, feeling the cool liquid hit your throat, and leaned back slightly in your chair.
Across the room, Harry’s table was in its usual state of controlled chaos.
George and Bach were deep in yet another argument about whether the system was “emotionally biased,” while Arthur looked like he had accepted that logic was no longer required for participation.
Harry was laughing through all of it.
He wasn't trying to steer the conversation. He wasn't really contributing to the argument.
He was just enjoying it—properly enjoying it—throwing his head back like the whole thing was the absolute best part of being there.
It made you smile before you even realised you were doing it, your gaze lingering on the way his eyes crinkled.
“Got it.”
Becky’s voice pulled you back as the sharp clack of the marker hit the table.
You blinked, shaking yourself out of the daze, and glanced down. “Already?”
“You were looking elsewhere,” she said simply, her eyes tracking the screen as she spoke, a knowing smirk playing on her lips.
“I was multitasking.”
“Sure you were.”
Tobi didn’t even look up from the card, his finger tracing the grid. “We’re two numbers away.”
That pulled your attention back in properly. The competitive spark finally nudged its way through the alcohol.
For a while, you actually tried.
You followed the screen. The calls. The reactions around the table.
You leaned forward when everyone else did.
You marked things when Becky told you to.
It almost worked.
Almost.
But the room was too loud, too vibrant, to fully settle into. There were too many things happening at once, pulling at your senses.
A sudden shout from another table pulled your attention sideways.
A loud cheer from somewhere else followed it a second later.
Then laughter — Harry’s distinct, wheezing laugh echoing over the music. His table was briefly visible between people moving around the venue, a pocket of bright energy in the crowded room.
You didn’t turn fully this time.
Just caught it in passing.
Enough to register the sound.
Not enough to completely lose track of everything else on your own table.
Still, Becky noticed the half-second delay.
She didn’t comment immediately.
She just slid the pen back across the table, her fingers tapping a quiet rhythm against the wood, and continued watching the screen.
A few beats later, she glanced side-long at you again.
Not annoyed.
Just… noting it.
Like she’d quietly started keeping count of something else entirely.
Tobi marked another number off the card with a flourish.
“We’re actually flying through this,” he said, leaning back slightly in his chair like he was inspecting his own masterpiece.
You laughed quietly, the sound muffled by the ambient noise of the room, your eyes still half-focused on the board.
For a moment, it almost felt like you were fully back in it.
Almost.
“Got it,” Becky said again, already reaching for the marker before Tobi even had a chance to react.
You blinked, looking between the card and her. “Wait—how are you both seeing these so fast?”
“We’re paying attention,” Tobi said, throwing a playful look your way.
“I am paying attention.”
Becky gave you a look, her eyebrows raised, without actually looking away from the screen.
“That’s not what I’m seeing.”
You frowned, shifting in your seat. “What does that mean?”
“It means,” Tobi added lightly, his tone teasing, “you’ve got a delay.”
“I don’t have a delay.”
“You do,” Becky said simply.
“I don’t.”
A beat.
The neon lights pulsed overhead, casting long shadows across the table. Becky finally turned her head slightly toward you, letting her marker rest.
“You do a thing.”
“I don’t do a thing.”
“You do,” Tobi nodded, chiming in seamlessly. “It’s consistent.”
You narrowed your eyes at them, trying to look serious. “What thing?”
Becky didn’t answer straight away.
Instead, another number boomed through the speakers, and both of them reacted instantly, their eyes darting to the card.
You were a fraction slower.
Not enough to lose the point entirely.
Just enough for Becky to notice the hesitation again.
“There,” she said, marking it with a definitive click.
“I was literally right behind you.”
“Emotionally behind us too,” Tobi added with a grin.
You let out a laugh, shaking your head. “That’s not a thing.”
“It is now,” Becky said.
You shook your head again, but you were smiling, the warmth of the room catching up to you.
Across the room, another massive burst of noise went up from the far tables.
Your head instinctively turned—
You caught yourself halfway.
Stopped.
Looked straight back at the card like you had just narrowly avoided a crime, staring hard at the little printed squares.
Too late.
Becky had already seen the movement out of the corner of her eye.
Tobi had too.
There was a long, deliberate pause at the table.
Then Tobi leaned back in his chair slightly, a mischievous glint in his eye.
“I think we should start charging her for every time she looks over there.”
You gasped, your jaw dropping slightly. “Excuse me?”
Becky hummed in agreement, tapping her chin. “We could increase team funding. Buy another round.”
“I am right here,” you protested, looking between the two of them.
“You are,” Tobi agreed, his smile widening. “Just… intermittently.”
“I am fully present.”
Becky finally turned to look at you properly now, leaning her elbow on the table and resting her chin in her hand.
“Are you though?”
“Yes.”
A beat.
Another number was called out by the announcer.
You didn’t look this time. You kept your eyes glued to the center of the table.
You were proud of that.
Genuinely.
Until Tobi spoke again, his voice dropping to a casual, conversational whisper.
“Harry’s laughing again.”
Immediately, your head turned.
Instantly.
Without permission from your brain.
There was a sudden, heavy silence at your table.
You froze, your eyes locking onto Harry's table for a split second before you realized what you'd done.
Slowly, you turned your head back around.
Becky was already smiling, holding back a laugh.
Tobi was biting his lip, trying desperately not to break.
You stared at them, your cheeks warming up under the pink lights.
“…That doesn’t count.”
Becky tilted her head, her smile spreading. “It absolutely counts.”
“It was informational,” Tobi added helpfully.
“I hate both of you.”
Becky reached for her drink, finally letting the full smile show now as she lifted the glass to her lips.
“We’re just saying,” she said lightly, the ice clinking softly against the glass, “you’ve got very fast reaction times…”
Another number flashed up on the big screens.
Becky marked it instantly, her hand moving without hesitation. Tobi followed a second later with a nod, checking it off his own mental tracker.
You leaned forward slightly, resting your hands on the sticky wood of the table, already trying to refocus your attention when the loud announcement suddenly cut through the room.
“Right — mystery challenge!”
The entire venue shifted at once, a collective wave of movement and chatter rising as the neon lights began to pulse a deeper shade of purple.
Becky turned to you immediately. Her expression changed, turning less focused on the card and more on you as a slow grin spread across her face.
“Ooo, go on then.”
You blinked, pointing a finger at your own chest. “Me?”
“Yes,” she said simply, like it was the most obvious thing in the world.
Tobi nodded from across the table, leaning back in his chair. “You should go.”
“I should?”
“Yeah,” Becky said, already smiling. “You’ll be good at it.”
You hesitated, looking at the marker still in your hand. “Based on what exactly?”
“Vibes,” Tobi replied.
“That’s not a qualification.”
“It is here,” Becky said, shifting in her seat and standing slightly now to give you room.
Across the table, Pie gave a lazy thumbs up, his eyes crinkling as he took a sip of his drink. “Go on. Represent us.”
You looked between all of them, completely outnumbered. “You’re all just sending me up there?”
Becky laughed softly, the sound almost lost to the bass of the room. “We’re not sending you. We’re encouraging you.”
“That is the same thing.”
“No it isn’t,” Tobi said.
“It is emotionally,” you muttered.
Becky leaned in slightly, lowering her voice like she was letting you in on a secret over the roar of the crowd. “Honestly, it’s perfect timing. You’ve been way too locked in on the wrong things anyway.”
“I have not.”
“You have,” she said gently, her eyes darting briefly toward the other side of the room before she smiled back at you. “Go. Have fun with it.”
Tobi pointed a finger toward the front of the venue where a small crowd of people was already starting to line up by the stage. “Plus it’ll be chaos. You’ll like it.”
You hesitated for a second longer, the pink neon light catching the edge of your glass. Then the noise of the room rose again — laughter, movement, chairs shifting against the floorboards, people calling out to each other as they got up. And somehow, that decided it.
“…Fine.”
Becky immediately lit up. “Yes.”
Tobi nodded approvingly, crossing his arms. “Good choice.”
Pie clapped once, a short, sharp sound. “Proud of you.”
You stood up, still half-protesting under your breath, but already being gently waved forward by the encouraging hands of your own table.
“I hate you all.”
But you were already walking forward, joining the rest of the selected players weaving through the crowded gaps between the tables. And as you moved through the shifting crowd toward the front—
Your attention flickered, just for a second, across the room.
Harry was already right there among the rest of the group on stage — just another person caught up in the same chaos, like this was completely normal.
And somehow, that made it easier.
“Hi,” you said, almost under your breath as you stepped closer.
Harry turned immediately. A grin appeared on his face the second he saw you, looking like nothing about this was unusual at all. “Hello.”
You didn’t even think about it before closing the small gap between you. The hug was quick — natural, easy. One arm each, a brief squeeze, like it was just something that happened without needing permission.
“Well look who decided to participate,” he said as you pulled back slightly, his hand lingering for a fraction of a second.
“I didn’t choose to,” you replied immediately.
“Sure.”
“I didn’t.”
“I believe you,” he said, not sounding like he did at all.
You shook your head, smiling despite yourself. Around you, the rest of the group was shifting into place, laughing, talking, settling into that familiar pre-challenge chaos. Before either of you could add anything else, Simon’s voice cut through the room.
“Right — listen up everyone!”
Neither of you fully let go straight away. You stayed in that half-second of contact, still half-facing each other, while the room slowly shifted into attention around you. Simon continued explaining the rules, gesturing as he spoke about a rock paper scissors tournament. Fast rounds. Immediate elimination. Simple enough that everyone was already nodding along.
Still half in the hug, Harry glanced toward the front. “This is going to be chaos.”
“It always is,” you said.
A small laugh left him. Only then did the two of you properly separate — not abruptly, just naturally as attention tightened across the stage.
You barely had time to settle before Simon was already speaking again. “Right — everyone pick someone. Rock paper scissors. Winners move on.”
The stage erupted instantly. Fast rounds, loud reactions, and people dropping out almost as quickly as they stepped forward. It stopped feeling like separate matches after a while, narrowing down exactly how everyone expected it to until it was obvious, even before Simon said it over the microphone.
“Right,” Simon sighed, looking between the two of you. “Of course it’s you two.”
The room erupted immediately. You let out a small laugh, turning slightly to find Harry already looking at you, still smiling.
“Yeah, that makes sense,” he said.
You rolled your eyes. “Unfortunately.”
Simon raised a hand, and the noise dipped just slightly — enough for the moment to land. You stepped forward, Harry did too, and the rest of the stage blurred into background noise. Just the two of you now.
"Rock. Paper. Scissors."
Instant. You played. A beat.
Then—"I win!"
The room exploded. Harry immediately laughed, shaking his head as he stepped back. "Course you do," he said, the defeat fading into a proud, effortless smile as he looked at you.
You blinked, staring down at your own hand like the reality hadn't fully caught up yet. "...I actually won that."
"Yeah," he nodded, stepping closer to nudge your shoulder playfully. "You did."
Simon pointed a finger toward you through the roaring noise, his voice booming over the microphone. "Right—your team gets to pick a number!"
You caught Becky’s frantic signaling from across the room and called out, "Number Fifty-eight!"
The venue reacted immediately with a massive wave of cheers, groans, and shouts of disbelief. And then—
"HIJINGO!"
Your table erupted into absolute madness. Becky's voice sliced clean through the ambient noise even from a distance, screaming, "I KNEW SHE'D GET IT!" while Tobi threw his hands up, laughing hysterically at the sheer luck of it all.
On stage, Harry looked down at you, his eyes crinkling. "Not bad."
You gave him a small, satisfied look, soaking in the high. "Obviously."
Before heading back down, Harry gave your arm a quick, affectionate squeeze—a private beat of warmth amidst the loud chaos—before you both parted ways to return to your respective sides. You practically floated back to your table, met with high-fives from Pie and triumphant cheering from Becky and Tobi. For a couple of rounds, the adrenaline kept you completely locked into the cards, matching Tobi's hyper-focus number for number.
But the peak of the excitement eventually began to cool.
As the next few rounds ticked by, the game slowly settled back into its usual, rhythmic chaos. Numbers continued to be called, teams celebrated, and George—predictably—resumed his ongoing, passionate argument that the entire venue had a personal vendetta against him.
And that was when your attention, warm and slightly fuzzy from the drinks, began to drift across the room again.
Somewhere along the way, you completely stopped making a conscious effort to stay at your own table.
At first, Becky had been strict about it. She had marched over, physically guided you back by the shoulders, and reminded you that they still had a game to win. You had sat down, taken an obedient sip of your drink, and stared hard at the card. But the alcohol was making the room feel too warm, and Harry's table had a gravitational pull you couldn't fight. Less than ten minutes later, you had drifted right back.
This time, Becky didn't follow. Across the room, you caught her catching Tobi’s eye, pointing a finger at your empty chair, and dramatically dropping her head into her hands. They had officially given up on you.
Completely liberated, you stepped up right behind Harry’s chair, letting one hand settle absent-mindedly onto his shoulder.
Harry didn’t even look up, completely unfazed by your sudden reappearance. Arthur was in the middle of a sentence, George was still complaining, and the game roared on around you, but Harry’s hand instantly lifted from the table. Without a word, his fingers slipped between yours, locking your hands together like muscle memory.
To be fair, the boys had seen this happen countless times. Whenever the group went out drinking, there always came a point in the night where you became significantly more attached to Harry’s side than your own.
You stood there for a few minutes, contentedly swaying to the music, before gently nudging his shoulder. "Harry."
He finally looked up, his thumb brushing over the back of your hand. "Hm?"
You looked at him, then eyed the crowded, occupied chairs around the table, and then looked back down at him with a sleepy pout. "Can I sit here?"
A soft smile immediately tugged at his lips. "Yeah, sure baby."
Harry gave your hand a small tug, guiding you down until you settled comfortably onto his lap. His free arm wrapped naturally around your waist, your legs sideways across his lap.
"Comfortable?" he murmured against your hair.
You hummed happily, resting your head on his chest. "Very."
"Good."
And that was that. Across the venue, Becky slowly lowered her glass, watching you completely dissolve into George's latest dramatic story. She nudged Tobi, pointing with her chin, before gesturing to Pie—who was currently engaged in a very passionate conversation that seemed to be making perfect sense to him and absolutely nobody else.
"Yeah," Tobi laughed, taking a sip of his own drink as Pie joined in on a random cheer across the room. "She's gone, and he's completely tuned out. We're the only two left."
Across the room, the game had officially become background noise—at least for you. George was already in the middle of another joke, fully committed to a bit that seemed to get more ridiculous every time he opened his mouth. Arthur was laughing, Bach was laughing, and unfortunately, so were you.
“You cannot seriously think that’s true,” Arthur said through a laugh.
“It is true.”
“It’s literally not.”
“It absolutely is.”
George looked around the table like he was expecting support. Your hand immediately shot up. “I agree with George.”
“Thank you,” George said instantly.
Harry looked up briefly. “You don’t even know what he’s talking about.”
“Don’t need to.”
“That’s concerning.”
You pointed at George. “He’s got conviction.”
“Exactly!” George said.
Arthur laughed harder. Harry just shook his head before looking back down at the card in front of him.
One hand resting on the table. The other still loosely wrapped around your waist. Not because he was paying particular attention to it. Just because at some point you’d ended up there and neither of you had thought to move.
“You are encouraging him,” Harry informed you.
“I think he’s funny.”
“He already knows that.”
“Good.”
George looked delighted. Harry looked significantly less delighted. You grinned before settling further against his chest.
For a moment, Harry glanced down at you. Then at the nearly forgotten card in front of him. Then back at you.
“You’re supposed to be helping your own team, you know.”
You tilted your head. “My team seems fine.”
Harry snorted. “Right.”
And despite the fact that George was still talking, Arthur was still laughing, and numbers were still being called somewhere in the background—
Neither of you moved.
A few moments later, another drink appeared on the table.
Your eyes immediately lit up.
Harry noticed.
Unfortunately.
The second your hand reached for it, his got there first. His fingers closed around the glass before you could even touch it.
"Harry."
"No."
You stared at him. "You don't even know what I was going to say."
"I do."
"You don't."
"I absolutely do."
You frowned. He looked entirely unconvinced.
Without another word, he slid the drink slightly further away, out of your reach, before reaching for the glass of water beside him. The one that had been sitting there mostly untouched for the last hour.
"Drink."
You looked down at it. Then back at him. Then back at the water.
"You're no fun."
"Drink."
Arthur laughed. George pointed at Harry immediately. "He's doing that thing."
"What thing?" you asked.
"The protective boyfriend thing."
"I am not," Harry said.
"You are."
"I'm literally not."
Bach was already laughing. Meanwhile, Harry simply continued holding the glass of water out towards you. Waiting. Patiently. Like he already knew how this was ending.
With a dramatic sigh, you finally took it from his hand.
"There we go."
You narrowed your eyes, taking a slow sip. Harry looked entirely too pleased with himself.
Satisfied, he returned his attention back to the card in front of him. One hand resting on the table. The other found its way back around your waist without a second thought.
The game carried on around you. Numbers continued being called. Teams continued celebrating and complaining in equal measure.
And somewhere between the drinks, the laughter, and the constant chaos of the room, the rest of the evening seemed to settle into something comfortable.
vaporwave
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