#reader and azriel

(Azriel x Reader)

Fluff, no warnings.

Masterlist

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The Inner Circle had stayed later than planned at Rita’s, which was how you ended up tucked under Azriel’s arm on the walk out, slightly tipsy, entirely happy, warm from both wine and his scent.

Azriel wasn’t drunk—of course he wasn’t—but the faint pink at the tops of his ears said he’d actually enjoyed himself tonight. His shadows were quiet, content, flickering lazily as you stumbled over a cobblestone.

He steadied you instantly.

“Careful,” he murmured, voice low and warm at your temple.

You blinked up at him, heart suddenly too full.

“Az?”

“Mhm?”

“I love you,” you said, very seriously. “Like… love-love you.”

A soft laugh escaped him. “I know, sweetheart.”

“No, but like…” You poked his chest. “I love you so much I want to have your baby”

Azriel stopped walking.

Completely.

Up ahead, Cassian bumped into Rhys and muttered something, but they were too far to catch the words. Nesta glanced back, eyebrow raised—then kept walking.

You didn’t notice any of it.

“I mean—not now,” you continued. “I’m not ovulating at Rita’s, that feels rude.”

Cassian made a confused choking sound. Feyre elbowed him and kept moving.

“—but someday? I think I’d like it. Your baby. Little wings. Little shadows. Very cute.”

Azriel’s breath left him.

His shadows went still.

And then:

“Say it again,” he murmured.

You swayed closer. “Azriel, who else would I want that with?”

He looked like you’d dropped a star into his chest.

And then—because tipsy you had no volume control—you added, loudly:

“I kind of want your baby now, honestly.”

That part the Inner Circle definitely heard.

Cassian tripped over his own feet. Rhys grinns, Feyre pinched the bridge of her nose. Nesta cackled.

Everything after that was quiet—Azriel’s hand sliding to the small of your back, pulling you closer, shadows cocooning the two of you the second he decided the conversation was no longer for public consumption.

He lowered his mouth to your ear, voice barely a whisper—soft, dark, meant only for you.

“Sweetheart,” he breathed, “if you keep saying things like that… I’m going to take you home and fill you until you can’t form a single word.”

Your breath hitched.

He brushed his nose along your cheek, still whispering against your skin.

“Don’t tempt me with giving you my child. Not here. Not when I’ve imagined it so many times I can barely think straight.”

Your legs actually wobbled.

“Az…” you whispered.

“If you want that future with me,” he murmured, “you only have to say the word. I want it more than I’ve ever wanted anything.”

Your fingers twisted in his leathers. “I meant it.”

He pressed a kiss to your ear—slow, reverent.

“When you’re sober, I’ll ask again. And if you still want it… I’ll give you everything. Every dream. Every future.”

You giggled, flushed.

“And the baby?”

Azriel pulled back just enough for you to see the smile—wide, boyish, devastating.

“That, too,” he whispered.

Up ahead, Cassian yelled, “CAN WE PLEASE WALK FASTER, I’M TRAUMATIZED,” but his voice barely reached through Azriel’s shadows.