Where He Is

Daddy Makeover

Pairing: Father!Bucky Barnes x Daughter!Reader

Word Count:1030

Summary: Bucky has a five year old daughter who wants to give him a makeover.

Request:  omg will you write one where bucky is the readers dad and the reader is still pretty young (like 5-7 ish?) and they like to give bucky makeovers and steve walks in when buckys hair is all done up and stuff?

Note: I honestly love writing this kind of stuff, like please send me more of these kind of scenaros with Marvel Parents

“Uncle Tony!” Your, oh so, small legs carried you into the lab of one of the ‘Uncles’ you lived with. “Uncle Tony, have you seen Daddy anywhere!?” You yelled once more before standing in front of him.

Tony grabbed you from the waist and set you on his lap. “Sorry squirt, haven’t seen the old man today.”

“Awn…” You pouted lightly. You jumped off his lap before saying “Alright. Bye Uncle Stank!”

“Halt bugger brain!” He got onto his feet, walked towards you and turned you around to face him. He crouched down to your height. “Where did you here that name?”

“Uncle Rhodes told me.” You giggled a bit. “He told me if I called you that he would give me candy… Which he did.”

He sighed before shaking his head. “Alright, fine. You can run off to find your dad now. Bye squirt.” He gave you a light pat on the head, sending you off. When leaving the lab, you heard your Uncle yelling “Rhodey!”

-

You made your way to the living room, since that’s where most of your ‘family’ would be. In your five years of living, you lived with your dad, Bucky, and the rest of the Avengers in the Tower. You never really knew your mother since no one will tell you what happened to her so you didn’t bother asking until they wanted too.

“Auntie Tash! Uncle Clint!” You ran towards the pair that were sitting on the couch and sat in-between them.

“Hey, bub. What do you need.” Natasha asked you while petting your long hair.

“Have any of you seen Daddy?” You asked them, looking at them with hopeful eyes.

“Sorry, [Y/N], we haven’t seen him today.” Clint told you which made you sigh. “Why don’t you go ask Uncle Steve, he usually knows where he is.”

Your eyes beamed because it was true, Steve always knew where he was. “Thank you Auntie Tash and Uncle Clint!” You gave them both a quick peck on the cheek before you short legs carried you towards where you thought your Uncle Steve was.

“Uncle Steve, where are you?!” You called out, frantically looking for him.

“I’m in the dining room.” You heard his voice and you ran faster, well as fast as your legs could.

When you ran into the dining room, you saw him talking with Wanda. “Uncle Steve, there you are!” You hugged his long leg before he bent down to pick you up which you wrapped your arm around his neck and your legs around his waist. “Hi Auntie Wanda.” You smiled at her and waved.

“Hello, [Y/N].” She came closer and poked your side lightly which made you laugh a bit.

“Hey, munchkin.” Steve gave you a small peck on the cheek. “What can I do for you, shorty?” Steve was your favorite uncle, everyone knew that. He was there with you since birth and after your mother died, he watched over you when Bucky couldn’t or when he needed it because it got hard for him to do it all alone.

“Do you know where Daddy is?” You asked what felt like the millionth time. “Uncle Clint said you would know where he is and it’s really important.”

He cocked an eyebrow at you. “What is so important that you have to look for your dad?”

You shook your head. “You’ll see later, Uncle Steve. So can you please tell me where he is?”

He mimicked your action with a light chuckle. “He’s in his room watching some Television.”

“Thank you, Uncle Steve.” You waited a second but you were still in his arms. “You can let me down now, Uncle Steve.” Yo gave him a serious look.

“Sassy, aren’t we?” He asked you but you didn’t bother answering, you just giggled and nodded. “I’ll see you later, munchkin.” He set you down on the ground where you were once again short.

“Bye, Uncle Steve and Auntie Wanda!”

-

You entered you fathers room with a big smile. “Daddy!” You exclaimed when you saw him sitting on the couch in his room.

He turned his head at the sound of your voice. A smile formed on his lips when you came running towards him, so he grabbed you and sat you on his lap. “Well, hello princess.” He gave you a small kiss on the cheek which you giggled at because his stubble tickled when it rubbed against your cheek.

“I have a very important question too ask you, Daddy.” You gave him the same serious look you gave Steve.

“And, what would that be?” He cocked his eyebrow, such as Steve did.

“I want to give you a makeover.” You gave him a pleading look, a look that he couldn’t resist.

“Why do I need a makeover, don’t you think I’m pretty enough? Do you think I’m… Ugly?“ He played the fake offended. He started to tickle you which put you into a fit of giggles.

“D-Daddy, s-stop it!” You giggled at, it was a sound he could never get tired of.

He stopped once you asked him because, like him, you get mad when you have too ask twice. “Only because I love you.” He told you while giving you another kiss.

“So, about that makeover Daddy…”

-

An hour later and whatever makeover items you had, later, your dad was all dolled up. He had a bunch of braids in his shoulder length hair, red lipstick and blue eye shadow and he still doesn’t know what he looked like.

You heard the door open and Steve’s voice was heard “Hey Buck-” He stopped when he saw the view. “Wow, you never looked any better, Bucky.”

Bucky rolled his eyes. “Shut up, Punk.” You father muttered.

You gasped and lightly tapped your dads shoulder. “Daddy! Language…” You scolded your father on his 'dirty’ language.

“Steve, you corrupted my daughter!” Your father exclaimed.

“At least we know she won’t swear…” You heard your uncle whisper to no one. You saw him take at his cell phone. “The internet will love this. Smile!” You complied and smiled for the picture while your father looked back at you, with a small smile playing on his lips.

XD

REBLOG IF YOU WANT A LOVE LETTER FROM A FICTIONAL CHARACTER IN YOUR ASK BOX NOW

AND I WILL DO EVERY SINGLE ONE, BASED ON YOUR BLOG.

EVERY

SINGLE

ONE

Nurse Bucky - Bucky Barnes x Reader

A/N: So apparently my first follower unfollowed me. Like, okay, bye bitch. This girl even messaged me saying how she loved my stories. Then why would you unfollow? I’m lost. Anyways, I’ll save the drama for another time. I really hope she doesn’t see this and know its her. I’m sorry if you do.

Request: “ hey! could u do one where reader and Bucky r a couple and reader is sick or got hurt in a mission or hangover idk and Bucky gets all overprotective and takes care of her and she keeps saying she’s fine but she clearly isn’t!! super fluffy pls!!” by anon. ( pssst…these are my prompt lists: 1 , 2 )

Warnings: Slight language, a fever, idk if that’s a deal breaker

Words: 1075

Keep reading

T'Challa x Shy!Mute!F!Reader

Boss, Y/N. King T'Challa and Vision are at the door.“ FRIDAY says interrupting Tony and Y/N who were working on Rhodey’s leg braces. “T'Challa? What is he doing here? I thought he wasn’t coming back until next week.” Tony looked at you alarmed. ‘Let them in Dad.’ You sign at him before going back to the braces. “Let them in Fri”

“Kitty cat! What you doing back so early?” Tony asked T'Challa as he walked into the lab. “My sister Shuri is making me take a few days off as King.” T'Challa says before his eyes flickered over to you. “Who is this beautiful lady?” He smiled at you, causing you to blush and look back down at the braces.

Tony glared at T'Challa and stood in front of you so he couldn’t look at you. “That’s Y/N. My daughter. Who is off limits to you.” Tony growled. You smiled rolling your eyes behind Tony’s back. Vision smiled seeing Tony being overprotective.

“I just wanted her name Anthony.” T'Challa said. “Yeah right. Just know my baby girl is off limits. No flirting. No touching. No looking. No nothing. Stay away.” You threw your hands up from behind Tony. “Mr. Stark I believe Y/N is trying to get your attention.” Vision tells Tony.

“What is it kiddo?” Tony asked turning to you. ‘Can you stop being an overprotective ass and help me with this?’ You signed at him. “No. I’m not. I have to be.” Tony said as he helped you finish the braces. “Now your catness let’s talk while Vizh takes Y/N to Rhodes.” Tony says as Vision grabbed the braces leaving the lab with you.

'Vizh! He called me beautiful!“ You signed excitedly to Vision as you went to the elevator. "You look quite happy about that. Is that good?” You nodded. 'Yeah. Remember when you liked Wanda…well you still do. That’s how I feel about T'Challa. Since I first saw him.’

“A crush am I right?” You nodded. 'Yeah but unlike you and Wanda he doesn’t like me back.’ You signed. “Do you know that for sure?” Vision asked. 'Vizh he just met me. Plus who would like me? I’m a freaking mute. Shy as fuck. No one could like me.’ You say as the elevator stopped. Vision frowned, looking at you in concern. He did not understand why you would say anything like that. You were very beautiful and just because you couldn’t talk didn’t mean anything. He would talk to Rhodey or Miss. Potts later about this.

“Hey Y/N, Vizh. Where’s Tony?” Rhodey asked as you two walked into his room. “Mr. Stark is with King T'Challa.” Vision says as he sets down the braces on the bed.

“What’s he doing back so early?” Rhodey asked. “I do know but I will take my leave now. I will be back shortly.” Vision says before phrasing the ceiling. “He has to stop doing that and use doors.” Rhodey says causing you to chuckle silently.

….Later (Like three days)……

“I cannot believe he has the decency to flirt with my daughter. Every. Single. Day. Can you believe it Rhodes?” Tony ranted as he paced in the living room. “Tone. Y/N is eighteen. She isn’t a kid anymore. You knew this day would come.” Rhodey says from the couch.

“Y/N doesn’t like him. Right? Rhodey?” Tony asked looking at him. “Don’t know.” Rhodey shrugged. “You lie! Rhodey you know something. Tell me!” Tony pleaded sitting beside Rhodey.

“Tony it’s obvious. Everyone knows but you and T'Challa” “Wait….does Y/N my sweet precious baby girl like T'Challa?” Tony asked Rhodey who looked at the blank television screen. “Oh hell no! No chance in hell!” Tony jumped up from the couch.

“Tony. Leave the kids be. As long as Y/N’s happy that what really should matter.” Rhodey tells Tony. “FRIDAY pulls up the security fee of T'Challa and Y/N.”

A hologram appeared. You were laughing, smiling at T'Challa something you rarely did unless it was with Tony, Rhodey, Vision or the bots.

“Your a truly beautiful woman Y/N. I do not understand why you don’t see what I see.” T'Challa says as he lifts your chin up to look him in the eyes. Your face was beat red from blushing. “He better not or I swear I’m going t-” T'Challa leaned over and pressed his lips onto yours.

“I’m gonna fucking kill him!” Tony yelled grabbing one of his Iron Man hand gauntlets. “Tony! Calm down!” Rhodey yelled after Tony who ran to the elevator.

“I’m gonna roast your furry ass if you don’t get away from my daughter!” Tony yelled as he stormed out the elevator. You and T'Challa pulled apart embarrassed.

Tony fired up his repuslor aiming at T'Challa who jumped out the way. Your eyes widened as you watched your dad shoot at T'Challa.

“Keep your filthy hands off my daughter or else I’ll…” Tony trailed off as he watched crystals travel up his gauntlet powering it down. He looked up at you in shocked. You stood in your mutant form which you never used.

“Y/N…you’re….using your powers” Tony said shocked. You nodded. Transforming back to your normal form. 'Dad I’m eighteen not eight. I’m old enough to take care of myself. I know it’s hard to see that I’m grow up but this is reality. I’ll always be your little girl but I’m just not as little you know’ You sighed at Tony who sighed.

“Fine. But I’m watching you.” Tony said glaring at T'Challa. “Ask my daughter on a proper date.” T'Challa smiled. “Y/N would you like to go out on a date with me tomorrow night?” You nodded smiling at him. “I’ll be waiting with my iron man suit too.” Tony hissed. “Now baby girl can you get these crystals off of me?”

Surprise...?

Based on Anonymous Prompt from Drabble Games: OMG. I think 73 would be perfect (replace CIA w/ hydra or shield I guess) if you’re up to doing it. Idc who with. You’re work is amazing btw and almost all of your Steve fics have me melting 😍

My parents dad thought I was working for an insurance company in New York when really I was joining the CIA S.H.I.E.L.D. so I just sort of never mentioned when I met you on an assassination-gone-wrong and now we’ve been married for five years and they still don’t know you exist, this has gotten wildly out of hand and you won’t stop laughing about it

A/N: OH MY GOSH I am so sorry this took me literally forever.  I filmed this week (and it went really well!) and then I was a little busy during the week and then I had severe writer’s block and I can give you a whole string of excuses but here it is (finally) and I am so, so sorry.  I’ll do my best to post at least one story every day until all the requests are filled (although don’t let this stop you from sending one in).

-

“It’s not funny, Steve,” you whine, struggling to keep a straight face.

“I don’t know, (Y/N).  I think it’s pretty damn funny.”

“Language,” you mutter.  Steve shakes his head.

“(Y/N), this is hilarious,” he laughs and you can’t help but giggle.  You love his laugh.  It’s absolutely infectious and entirely genuine and it’s one of the many things you love about your husband. 

“It’s really not,” you reply.  “He’s gonna kill me.”

“I’m sure it’s not that bad,” he replies, his laughter finally starting to die out.

“My dad is gonna kill me,” you moan.  “Like, it’s bad enough that I lied to him about working for an insurance company, but now…the fact that I’m not only dating you, but have been secretly married to you for five years?  I’ll be lucky if I’m not disowned.”

“Why not just tell him we just started dating?” Steve suggests, and you can see that he’s on the verge of laughing.  “And then in a year, we can have a second, fake wedding.  And then you don’t have to tell him you work for S.H.I.E.L.D.”  You shake your head.

“First,” you say.  “We don’t want to have another wedding.  Because my dad will go crazy.  Fireworks, ice sculptures, doves, you name it, he’ll want it for the wedding.  Second, the minute he sees you, he’ll know that we must have met through S.H.I.E.L.D.”

“Tell him we met online,” he suggests and you snort.  

“‘Yes, Dad,’” you say mockingly.  “‘This is Steve Rogers, better known as Captain America.  I met him on eHarmony.’”

“I met you when I came to purchase insurance.”

“I’m pretty sure no company insures superheroes.”

“I ran into you at the coffee shop.”

“Since when do you have time to go get coffee?”

“Do you have a better solution?”

“Tell him the truth and pray to the gods of Asgard that he’s not too angry.”  Steve nods and looks at you curiously.

“Why now?” Steve asks.

“What do you mean?” you reply.

“Why are you finally coming clean to him now?” 

You look up at Steve and take a deep breath.  You reach into your pocket and pull out a small, folded piece of paper.  You hand it to him and watch as he unfolds it, his face slowly stretching into a smile.

“I figured he should know who the father of his grandkid is,” you beam.  

Steve looks at you with a look of pure happiness on his face.  He pulls you into a giant hug and kisses you gently.  

“Well, I think I can face any scary father-in-law now.”

-

You reach the restaurant where you’re meeting your dad.  Steve helps you out of the car, slipping his hand into yours as you walk inside.

You take a deep breath and decide it’s time to drop the second half of the bombshell.

“Steve, there’s something you should know,” you say as the waiter escorts you to the table.

“What is it?” Steve smiles and you savor the look on his face.  It might be the last time you see it tonight.

“My dad…he’s-”

“Steve?” 

You look up at find your father, Tony Stark, sitting at a table, a look of complete and utter shock on his face.

“Tony?”

An awkward, uncomfortable grin spreads across your face as both men turn to glare at you.

“Surprise…?”

The first pride was a riot, more specifically a riot against police violence. Trans women of colour like Marsha P. Johnson paved the way for the celebration of pride today. You cannot celebrate your pride this month, or any month if you aren’t also supporting Black Lives Matter and the riots going on against police violence right now. Us white LGBTQ+ need to stand up for our black siblings and their rights, their struggles. We need to amplify their voices and show any support we can.Hey! Better yet, reblog this version:

Extensive BLM Google doc including places to donate to, education resources, etc

List of 75 things white people can do right now

Simple way to donate to the cause if you have no money to

Imagine Becoming Best Friends With Peter, Despite Being On Team Cap

“Tony, I really didn’t want to do this,” Steve sighed. He looked up at you, and you jumped down from your perch in your own new suit, the force of your landing cracking the ground.

“Oh, come on, this was supposed to be my big idea,” Tony sighed.

“Sorry to disappoint,” you shrugged. With a surge of power, you launched yourself at Spider-Man- a familiar face to you from YouTube- and used your telekinetic field to throw him across the airport, stealing back Steve’s shield and tossing it to the soldier.

“Wow, that was awesome!” Spider-Man said, though he quickly recovered, “I mean…nice moves, but I don’t think you can keep up!”

“I’ve seen you swinging around the city, Bug Boy,” you smirked. “You may be able to handle street-level stuff, but I don’t think you’ve ever met anyone like me.”

“You’re from New York, too?” he asked, swinging out of your reach and trying to shoot you with webbing as you followed with precision and used your field to project the webbing away. “Is that a kinetic energy field?”

“Tactile telekinesis,” you grinned, “it’s super-fun. Almost like flying! So, really, where’d the whole Bug Boy thing come from? I’m curious.”

“Long story, radioactive spiders, I’d rather save it for a rainy day,” he said, managing to land a burst of webbing to your hand and sealing you to the ground. “I’m from Queens, what about you?”

“Manhattan!” you grinned, kicking him hard as Scott grew to giant size and you pulled your arm free. “We should hang out sometime!”

This, you could tell as he swung back around to try and hit you again, was going to be the start of a beautiful friendship.

(For Anon)

The Biggest Fanboy (Pietro Maximoff Award)

—————————————————————————————
 Pairing:
 Peter Parker x Reader Winner:
 @hair-dye-or-nawh Warnings: None Notes: Here is the fourth award request (almost halfway through, yay!) After this one I think I might try and write another part to We Start Over and maybe some of my old requests. I just wanted to take this opportunity to say thank you for 3k followers and once again apologise for how little I’ve been posting. I have alot of stuff going on in my life (more mental than anything) and it’s just so mentally exhausting that I don’t have alot left to put into my writing. Anyway thankyou to everyone that has stuck by me and always enjoy! —————————————————————————————

Being the youngest Avenger definitely had its perks. Such as Tony making you all the tech you could possibly want just to make sure you were safe, and basically having a super soldier bodyguard. However, there was thing that sucked about being the only young member of team. It was incredibly lonely. Sure the rest of the team tried to include you whenever they could, but you were so much younger than them that you didn’t really have all that much in common. That was why when you heard of the spiderboy, you were intent on making him your friend. It would be great to have someone your own age that understood the whole superhero lifestyle, so you’d pretty much begged Tony for his address and decided to drop in on him the first chance you got.

Knocking on the apartment door, you were greeted with a face of a kind looking woman that you assumed to be his aunt. “Hello, Ms Parker. I’m Y/N, a friend of Peter’s.” You smiled innocently at the brunette woman, hoping she believed you. “Oh of course, can’t say Peter’s ever spoken about you before but come on in.” She smiled, opening the door for you to enter. Nodding, you stepped in to the small apartment. “Peter’s room is just upstairs and to the left.” She gestured with a smile. “Thankyou Ms Parker.” You smiled, heading up the small staircase and towards the newest Avenger’s room. Knocking twice you waited for a shout of confirmation that you could enter before pushing open the door.

What was inside was definitely not what you expected. Flickering your eyes over the walls you could see multiple pictures of the team, but the face that seemed to be covering most of the pale blue walls, was yours. “Sorry Aunt May, I’ll come and fix the washing machine in just a…” Peter trailed off eyes latching on to your awed expression. “Wait… you’re not Aunt May…” Peter stuttered. “You’re… you’re…” He gulped, watching as you stepped towards one of his posters, running your fingertips over the image of you in your mission outfit. “I’d introduce myself, but it seems that’s not needed.” You smiled, turning on the nervous looking boy sat at the desk. “Uh… no… I uh…” He stuttered, cheeks flaming red. “Well, for the sake of moving this conversation along…” You grinned, perching on the edge of his bed, “I’m Y/N, one of your new teammates, I just thought that since, y’know we’re the ‘babies’ of the team, that we should get to know each other.” You babbled, eyes still darting around the room. “Uh yeah… hi… I’m Peter.” He replied, standing up and shuffling around slightly before crossing his arms. “I know.” You grinned, patting the space next to you as you pulled your legs up and sat cross legged. “So Peter, when did you become my biggest fanboy?” You chuckled, jabbing him in the side slightly as he sat down. “I wouldn’t say that I was… I’m not…” He babbled, looking adorably flustered. “You know you’re cute when you’re embarrassed.” You smirked, enjoying the pink colouring that came to his cheeks, yeah you two were gonna get on just fine.

Worth It - Bucky Barnes

Reader and Bucky have been dating for a long time, but the reader is not very emotional. One night, when they fight because she wants to go on a mission with him and the rest of the team, Bucky says he loves and cares too much to risk losing her and she just says “I’m not sure if I can say the same.”. In the mission, she gets seriously injured when take a shot for Bucky know she will not survive, Bucky begins to blame himself and she just cuts “Bucky, I love you. It’s worth it die for you.”

N/A: Okay, i hope that you like it! And thank you for your request!!

(Masterlist)

You weren’t good at expressing your feelings, you just didn’t have great examples of romantic emotion - or any kind of cute emotion from romance movies - it was as if all your life, until the moment you met Bucky, you lived like a damn robot. But then you created an interest in the charming Barnes and all officially began after a meeting at Steve’s house, where you, the two super soldiers and Sam drank too much. Fortunately for you, Sam and Steve drank to the point of not remembering the night and especially your moans that Bucky proudly caused. You didn’t know what or how you managed it, but then you two started dating, Bucky always being a precious soft ball to the point of you got along extremely well. He understood you extremely well. You really complemented each other and you felt glad that he didn’t require emotions you didn’t know how or felt comfortable in trying to express. Everything seemed perfect during the long months of relationship… Until now.

“You can’t be fucking serious!" you growled angry, raising your hands in frustration and glancing at Bucky. “You can’t do this! I’m not a fucking property. Especially your property!”

“You have to understand that this mission is dangerous, (Y/N)! You’re not coming, period.“ Bucky said through clenched teeth, his body language in full defensive position like a wolf waiting to pounce.

“Fuck that shit! If I have to electrocute you to be able to go through that damn door, I will.” you simmered, starting to focus on the electrical charge on the tips of your fingers and you saw Bucky’s eyes stare for a few seconds your hands before relaxing his posture. “Good, now let me pass.”

“(Y/N), please, I just… Dammit, this mission is really complicated and dangerous! I care about you, worry about your safety and don’t want to risk losing you.” Bucky ran his flesh hand on his now short hair, a pure anxiety gesture, his voice now controlled and you could feel the emotions he tried not to show it, but you could see through his blue eyes. “I love you, (Y/N).”

“I’m not sure if I can say the same.” you said coldly, keeping your expression blank and, trying to avoid Bucky’s hurt look, you took the time to pass through him and head toward the quinjet where the others waited.

Shit. Your surprise attack had gone awry, Bruce lost control after a guard shoot his direction and so the mission went in a complete chaos. There were many soldiers and machines to fight at the same time, the whole team was split into the huge warehouse that seemed like almost a maze. Shit. You managed to get rid quickly of the machines thanks to your power, doing the same with the soldiers that appeared, then you fled to the top of the wall that created that damn maze. Your eyes searched for the members of your team as your heart almost pounded in your ear. Shit. Who were you trying to fool? Your eyes looked worryingly for Bucky and when you found him, you didn’t think twice about going to him. And then you noticed one of the machines appear behind Bucky and aim at the back of his head. You didn’t stop to think or wait to see if he would notice, you just threw yourself in front of the machine while it fired several times in your direction. For a moment you lost your breath and felt your eyes roll back as you fell with a heavy thud on the floor.

“(Y/N)!” you heard Bucky scream and you forced yourself to open your eyes that you didn’t remember having closed. Bucky knelt beside you, taking you in his arms and trying to stop your bleeding, but the front of your white uniform was getting completely stained red. “No, no, no! My love, hold on! Doll, keep your eyes open!”

“James-” you choked slightly trying to breathe, leading your trembling hand to the face of the man you had learned many important things. Bucky closed his eyes for a moment trying to control the tears, but quickly returned to look at you when he felt your heart beat increasingly weak, he hugged you with affection and sobbed heavy. “James Barnes, I love you. Don’t cry- Die for you… it’s worth it. ”

“I love you too, doll” Bucky whispered, but you didn’t hear his answer. And he stayed there with you in his arms, his body shaking as he cried his pain. Nothing would be worth it if you weren’t coming home with him. You should have heard him.

Anything for You

pairing: Azriel x Reader

content warnings: descriptions of menstrual cycles and menstrual blood, discussion of the loss of a parent

word count: 5.2k

synopsis: Fae menstrual cycles are notoriously terrible to endure, but yours seem to be especially torturous. Mor normally helps you through your cycles, but when yours comes early and Mor is away, a certain Shadowsinger steps in to help.

my masterlist

~ ~ ~

You were convinced your cycle was a curse that spawned from the depths of hell. Every fae female endured painful and taxing cycles, but yours was vicious. It had been since the very first time you bled, and every cycle since for the last 20 years was laced with the same crippling agony. The same pain that had you heaving into your toilet now. 

You were a healer, for Mother’s sake, and even you could not find a remedy to alleviate the pain that accompanied fae cycles. When you were young, your mother would do her best to soothe you. She would create potent sleep tonics to lull you to sleep through the pain, but even those would last only a few hours before the pain shredded through the momentary peace. She never told you what she put in those tonics, and she never gave them to patients, and you had not yet been able to replicate it since she passed. 

When she passed five years ago, the pain of your grief only compounded with the pain of suffering through your cycle for the first time alone. The agony was unbearable, and it was the first and only time you had passed out from the pain. Before you had to suffer through another dreadful cycle on your own, you blessedly met the Inner Circle of the Night Court.

~ Five Years Ago ~

The drink you had been nursing for the last hour swirled around in the bottom of the crystal glass. You frowned at the dark liquid, having lost your taste for it tonight. You weren’t much of a drinker anyway, but tonight was your mother’s birthday, and Rita had begged you to stop by tonight to pour you a drink in honor of her beloved friend.

You were grateful for Rita. You knew she kept tabs on you, if her weekly visits to your tonic shop down the street were any indication, and you appreciated her worrying about you. It was nice to know that at least one person still did. Although, you couldn’t bring yourself to down the rest of the free drink. You were sandwiched between two drunk males at the bar, one nearly passed out and the other contributing to the deafening chatter of the crowded room. 

You were just about to stand up and leave when the splintering of wood and a heavy thud shook the room. You followed the gazes of everyone else to where two winged males were hefting another male up from the floor covered in the wood shards from a table.

You couldn’t make out what they were saying to the sneering male over the murmur of the bar, but it was clear he was belligerently drunk. You noticed a blonde female standing nearby, speaking softly to a visibly terrified female. It didn’t take a genius to connect the dots. Your gaze then snapped back to the two winged males, and the glowing red and blue siphons adorning their wrists made their identities suddenly dawn on you. Your eyes snagged on the blood smeared across the red siphoned one’s wing, and they widened at the sight of a large slice through the delicate membrane.

The one with blue siphons and shadows swirling around him yanked the snarling male toward him, and the two of them suddenly disappeared. The injured male and female, who you now recognized as the Night Court’s general and the Morrigan, ignored the gazes of the bar as they made their way to the back exit. You watched Rita intercept them to share a few quick words, and then they were gone.

You didn’t know what compelled you to follow them out the back door just a minute later. Perhaps it was because you were innately nosey, or maybe it was the healer instinct in you pushing you to help someone in pain. It was likely the desire to dull the throbbing pain of missing your Mother by involving yourself in a potentially precarious situation.

The wooden door to the bar shut slowly behind you as the cool night air kissed your warm skin. You took in a small breath, savoring the freedom of the fresh air, before fairly loud voices at the end of the alley pulled your attention.

Morrigan and the general were standing together, seemingly arguing. “He was clearly violating her!” the male yelled.

“I know that, Cassian!” the female hissed. “I’m not saying you shouldn’t have done anything. I’m saying you should have deescalated the situation before he stabbed you and you threw him through a damn table!”

“I’m sorry!” He threw his hands up. He looked like he might have said more, but suddenly the second winged male, the Shadowsinger, appeared next to them from the shadows.

A beat of silence passed before the returned male said, “I assume she’s reaming you for acting like an impulsive brute?”

Wasn’t he right by the general’s side when that male was kicked through the table? You thought it was strange how casual the three of them were interacting with each other, even if they were arguing.

“Fuck you, Az,” the general grumbled.

The shadowsinger asked, his voice softer, “Are you alright?”

“No, he’s not alright,” Morrigan cut in, waving her hand toward his wing. “His wing has a damn gash in the middle of it.”

The general ran a hand through his hair and sighed, “We’re going to have to call Madja.”

“Are you happy now, Cas? Your bar fight–”

“Mor,” the shadowsinger cut her off quietly, and she quickly halted her verbal lashing.

A larged winged body was suddenly a foot away from you, and you yelped at the sudden intimidating presence. “Who are you?” he asked, his voice cold and hard.

You swallowed, mouth suddenly dry. “I–I’m Y/N. I don’t mean any harm. I followed you out here.” You glanced toward the two still at the end of the alley, now staring at you, as you spoke quickly to try to calm the menacing male in front of you. “I followed you out here to see if you needed any help. I’m a healer, and I saw your wing, but then when I came out here you were arguing and I–I froze.”

The shadowsinger seemed to believe you, taking a step back from your tense and wide-eyed form before dismissing you, “We don’t need your assistance.”

You bit your lip and glanced at the wounded male down the alley, agony slowly creeping through his resolve held up by the adrenaline coursing through him. “I know Illyrian wings are…delicate,” you swallowed. “But really, I can help. My mother–she was Illyrian.”

The shadowsinger glowered at you. “We would know if there was an Illyrian in Velaris.”

You shook your head slightly, holding his inscrutable stare. “Her wings were clipped,” you said softly, before adding, “if you can call it that. She was a teenager. Some boys in her camp ambushed her, took her wings.” You looked at him earnestly. “I don’t know how she made it to Velaris. She never told me. But she was a healer, and she taught me about caring for Illyrian wings. She always said it was important to be familiar with my,” you hesitated, glancing between the two full-blooded Illyrian males, “my culture.”

“Az,” Morrigan called, snapping his attention to where she stood with her arm now around the general’s middle. “I don’t know if we can wait on Madja. His wing, it’s already healing.”

His face was stoic when he turned back to you, but his eyes held a sense of urgency beneath his cool assessing gaze. “You know how to properly heal him?”

You nodded.

With a slight twitch of his jaw, he nodded toward the general. “Then help him.” Then, as an afterthought, “Please.”

You nodded again, gathering your remaining courage to stand up straight. “Take him to my shop. It’s just a few buildings down.”

~ Present ~

Since that night, the Inner Circle started to visit you for various tonics and treatments. Madja had vouched for you, telling them that many of the tonics she used in her clinic came from your store. You bonded quickly with the group, and even became friendly with Amren when she decided to visit your shop herself. Eventually, they invited you into their fold, hoping you could use the Court’s resources to further your tonic development and research.

You moved into the House of Wind. Cas, Az, Mor, and even Amren became your new family. Not long after you moved in, Mor had found you writhing in bed on the morning of your cycle, and for every one since then she was there to help you through it. Today, though, Mor was away in the Winter Court, and it looked like you would have to fend for yourself this time.

Your cycle was early. You tracked it religiously, given its severity, and you knew you had to prepare for it to take you down for at least a couple of days. You were always prepared. This time, though, with it nearly three weeks ahead of schedule, you had nothing you needed to get through this. No linens, no pain relief tonics, no sleep tonics (not that they did much), nothing. Worse yet, you were supposed to meet with Feyre today for lunch.

You loved your High Lady, but you still feared upsetting her, or worse yet, upsetting the High Lord by proxy. Rhys had been nothing but kind and welcoming to you since he returned to Velaris. Feyre, of course, knew no different. However, you were still hyper aware of how you had altered the tight dynamic Rhys expected to return to, and you were terrified of disappointing him or making him regret keeping you within his fold. The last thing you needed was to stand your friend, your High Lady, his mate up for lunch.

The mere thought of the pastries served at the patisserie you were meant to be at in an hour sent you hurdling over the toilet basin again, heaving as pain radiated from your abdomen. Breathing heavily, your vision swam as a ripple of pain so intense spread through you that you swore you felt it in your teeth. You slowly laid your body down on the cool tile, curling up in a ball. Tears leaked from your eyes as your vision grew hazier until eventually they closed on their own accord, darkness engulfing you.

~

“Y/N,” a deep voice drawled. The voice was muffled, and you were confused where it was coming from. “Y/N,” the voice said again, this time much clearer, and you felt heat seeping into your skin. “Please, wake up!”

Brightness flooded your vision and you took in a small gasp as you reoriented to your surroundings. You squinted at the figure above you as they muttered, “Thank the Mother.”

“Azriel?”

His thumb brushed your cheek. “Yeah. Yeah it’s me.”

You winced as pain sliced through your abdomen, rolling onto your back. Azriel shifted to give you space to do so, but your side brushed his knee he had on the ground.

“Hey,” Azriel said softly, his hand now on your clammy arm. An uncomfortable layer of sweat coated your skin that only added to your misery. “Did you hit your head?”

You furrowed your brow. “What? No.”

“Then why did you pass out on the bathroom floor?”

Mortification seeped through the daze that lingered. “I—” You swallowed and glanced down at your body, still clothed in only a nightgown. A bloody nightgown now, since you’ve been laying here for who knows how long without any linens. Your face flushed. “My cycle started,” you told him meekly. “The pain—it was too much, I guess.”

His face softened and he brushed a gentle hand over your head. “Let’s get you cleaned up.”

He reached to pick you up, but you jerked away, mortification flooding you. “No.”

He frowned, hurt flashing through his eyes. “What? Why?”

You shook your head, looking away. Tears stung your eyes. “I’m fine, Azriel.” You weakly pushed yourself up, bracing a hand on the toilet. You quickly hunched over as pain gripped you. “I’ll be fine.”

“You’re in pain,” he argued. “Let me help you.”

Your stomach twisted and a tear ran down your cheek. You weren’t sure if it was from the pain or the absolute humiliation you felt right now from Azriel seeing you like this.

“Hey,” he said softly, warmth suffusing his normally cool voice. He gently brushed away the tear rolling down your cheek. A shadow curled through your hair that was now damp at your nape. “Can I run you a bath?”

You gazed at the blood on your gown and cringed at the sight. Your hyper awareness of it coating the skin of your legs only amplified your repulsion and discomfort. Finally, you nodded reluctantly but avoided his eyes.

You expected him to get up to start the bath, but instead he lifted your chin to make you face him. His eyes were so soft, so warm, when he said, “It’s just blood.” His hand shifted to cup your face. “It’s just me. There’s no reason to be embarrassed. I’ll leave if you really want me to. I can see if Feyre can stop by after—”

Your eyes widened. “Oh gods,” you gasped. “Feyre. I was supposed to meet her for lunch. What time is it?”

Azriel shushed you. “It’s okay. You missed lunch, but it’s okay. Feyre was worried about you, but she had an art class to teach, so she asked me to check on you. Clearly, she was right to be worried.”

“I can’t believe I stood her up—”

“You passed out in the bathroom from pain, Y/N,” he cut you off. “Feyre would never hold that against you. Neither would Rhys,” he added, knowing you far too well.

Water suddenly started filling the tub behind you. Azriel smiled softly. “I guess the House beat me to it.”

He stood up, and then reached down to pull you up by your underarms. You shakily stood in front of him, hands crossing over your abdomen. Your knees started to buckle under the intensity of the pain, but Azriel quickly stabilized you by your waist. You closed your eyes and sucked in a breath, in far too much pain to keep protesting his help you desperately needed. Help you desperately wanted. “Azriel,” you whimpered, nothing else coming out.

“I’m right here, sweetheart,” he reassured. “Do you need help getting in the bath?”

Resigned, you nodded. “I don’t think I can do this,” you whispered.

“Okay.” He nodded. “Let’s get you in the bath then. First, we need to get this gown off you.” His thumb gently brushed your hip, and his shadows mimed his gentle touch across your cheeks and neck. “Can I?”

You chewed on the inside of your cheek and nodded. He swiftly pulled the gown up and over your head, and while he turned to toss the gown in your hamper, you slid your ruined underwear off. You stepped toward the bath, but you embarrassingly tripped over your own feet. Azriel was there instantly, swiftly resting a hand on the middle of your bare back and another under your arm. “Easy,” he murmured, gently guiding you to step into the tub, stabilizing you as you sank down beneath the sudsy water.

You leaned back in the tub, Azriel releasing you. “I hate that you’re seeing me like this,” you admitted quietly.

Azriel frowned as he kneeled next to you outside the tub. “Why?”

“I hate how weak I am right now. It’s humiliating, Az. I shouldn’t need your help. I should be able to take care of myself.”

“How is me helping you any different from letting Mor help you?” he asked, seriously. 

Well, you weren’t in love with Mor, for starters.

“Mor doesn’t judge you, you know that. I’m not judging you either. I would never think less of you for this,” he told you. “I want to help you. I want to be here with you. So please, let me.”

You stared into his eyes for a brief moment, absorbing the genuine care and concern shining through the normally cool and guarded male. Here was this massive winged Illyrian warrior, adorned in armor and powerful siphons, with shadows swirling around him and a dagger strapped to his side that sent most scrambling, sitting beside you at your weakest most vulnerable state. You felt nothing but safe in that moment, and the thought made you close your eyes to hide the glossy sheen quickly forming over them. 

You wanted Azriel with you. You wanted him to take care of you. You were embarrassed, yes, vulnerable and exposed, but you knew in your bones that there was no one else on the planet who would care for you as well as Azriel.

With your eyes still closed, you asked him quietly, “Will you please help me wash my hair?”

A beat passed, then Azriel said, “Of course I will.”

Your eyes fluttered open to meet his soft ones. Then you yelped as something fell and splashed into the tub, getting water on Azriel. You winced as you leaned forward to scoop it out, finding a bottle of shampoo and conditioner. 

“You can tell the House was Made by Nesta,” Azriel muttered until his breath. You couldn’t help the small chuckle that escaped you, earning a shy grin from Azriel.

He took the bottles from you and sat them on the floor. He slid off some of the armor on his arms, including the siphons, leaving just the one in the center of his chest. You watched him pour a handful of shampoo into the palm of his tan, scarred hand. 

You closed your eyes again as he started gently massaging the shampoo into your scalp, building a soothing lather. His large hands and surprisingly nimble fingers scrubbed every inch of your scalp, and you thought you might melt when he paid special attention to the nape of your neck. When he was done, he filled a small bowl you kept on your sink with water, then slowly poured it over your head to rinse the soap from your hair. 

He pulled a cloth from the stack of towels beside the tub, but he paused his motions after dipping it in the soapy water. Before he could even ask, you nodded your head and murmured, “Please.”

Azriel gently washed your arm and then the next. He ran the cloth over your collarbone, barely brushing the tops of your breasts, but you were too exhausted and numb with resounding pain to think much of it, and Azriel’s touch and gaze remained nothing but respectful. A warm hand on your shoulder gently coaxed you to lean forward so he could reach your back.

A shiver racked your body as he brushed over your spine, and simultaneously another sharp pain pierced your abdomen. Tears leaked from the corner of your eyes from the juxtaposition of sensations you were feeling. Azriel brushed a tear away with his thumb not covered in soap. “Doing okay?” he asked softly.

More tears leaked from your eyes. “It hurts so bad, Az,” you choked out.

“I’m sorry, sweetheart,” he said sincerely, as he finished washing your back. “I wish I could do something.”

“You are, Az.” You placed your hand over his on your shoulder, meeting his eyes briefly before he looked away. “I’ve only spent a cycle alone once and,” you swallowed the ache that formed in your chest, “And it was horrible. You just being here—it means everything. Let alone you taking care of me.”

He didn’t say anything, but he brushed small strokes against the skin of your shoulder before pulling the cloth away from your back. You took the cloth from him and said, “I can finish up.”

He nodded, and for a moment he looked unsure what to do before you said, “Az?” His gaze snapped back to yours. Your cheeks heated irrationally. “I don’t have any linens for…” You looked down at the water before going back to him. “And I don’t have any tonics.”

His eyes widened at the last sentence. “You haven’t even taken a tonic?”

You shook your head. “I’m normally more prepared than this, but this time it was so early,” you told him, embarrassed. 

“Why didn’t you ask someone to get you one? Ask me?” he asked, clearly exasperated. “Mother above, Y/N. I know Mor is usually the one who helps you, but any of us would do anything for you.”

You looked away as he sighed and brushed a hand over your hair. “I’ll get you what you need,” he murmured. “Are you okay here for a few minutes?”

You nodded. “I promise not to pass out and drown in the bathtub.”

“That’s not even funny,” he grumbled as he stood up. He put his siphons back on his wrist and said, “I’ll be right back.” He spared one more hesitant glance at you before exiting the bathroom, quietly shutting the door behind him.

You quickly washed yourself, then leaned back against the tub to wait for Azriel to return. You thought about getting out, but the pain radiating to your thighs and the remaining lightheadedness made you think better of it. A lingering shadow swooped over your collarbone, as if agreeing with your decision. You shut your eyes, practicing some of the breathing techniques Nesta had shared with you from their Valkyrie training to distract you. 

The door creaked open and Azriel’s voice said, “If you fell asleep in the tub, so help me.”

You peaked at him through hooded eyes before fully opening them. A teasing smile adorned his face, and he held a bottle and some linen cloth pads in his hands. He sat the linens on the counter and opened the bottle, handing it to you. “Drink this.”

He didn’t have to tell you twice. He left the bathroom again briefly before returning with a new gown and underwear. “Are you ready to get out?”

“Yeah,” you said, licking your lips of any residual bitterness from the tonic.

Azriel reached for a towel and held it up for you. “I have some food and water for you in the room to wash the tonic down,” he said. You shakily stood up in the tub and he swiftly wrapped you in the towel. He held you by your arm as you stepped out, and guided you over to the counter where your clothes were.

He grabbed the underwear that already had a pad in it. “Here.” He knelt down in front of you, holding the underwear out for you. “Hang on to me and step in these.”

You did as he said, and he swiftly pulled them up your legs. He followed suit with the nightgown, letting the towel drop only after it covered you. He then used your comb on your counter to detangle your wet hair, patting it dry with your towel. 

You wanted to kiss this male for how sweet he was. He presented himself as cold, stoic, and dangerous, but he was the kindest male you had ever met. The gentleness in his touch was a paradox to the career and reputation he had.

He picked you up without warning, cradling you in his arms. “Let’s get you in bed.”

He moved swiftly through your room, setting you on the bed with clean sheets. He handed you a glass of water, telling you to drink before handing you a berry scone. “You think you can stomach this?”

You nodded, not entirely convinced you could, but you were starving. Azriel sat beside you on the bed quietly while you ate your scone. You took a few more sips of water before setting it back on the nightstand. Azriel reached for another tonic bottle on the table, handing it to you. “This is a sleep tonic,” he told you. “Madja said they don’t usually work for your cycle? But I thought it was worth trying, if you want.”

You nodded. “Thank you, Az.” You drank the tonic, this one thankfully sweeter than the first one. “When I was younger, my mom always gave me a sleep tonic that instantly put me to sleep.” You smiled, nostalgia hitting you. Azriel listened intently. “I have no idea how she made it. I’ve never been able to successfully recreate it. I wish she wrote her recipes down, so I had more than just the memories of things she told me,” you said softly.

You laid down, head resting on your pillow as you faced Az. His eyes roved over you, uncertainty flickering in them. “Is there anything else I can get you?”

Trepidation laced your voice as you started, “Can you just—” you swallowed hard and shook your head. “Nevermind,” you whispered, smiling half-heartedly. “I’m fine. Thank you, Az.”

Azriel frowned, and he smoothed a gentle hand over your damp hair. The motion had his cool cedar scent wafting over you, and you closed your eyes in a brief indulgence. “Y/N,” he murmured, hazel eyes glimmering with resolution as they met yours, “Tell me what you need. You say it, and it’s yours.”

Your heart skipped a beat. A few beats passed as you grappled for the courage to make your request. “Can you please just lay with me?” you asked, voice cracking under the weight of so many different emotions flooding your system.

Nearly imperceptibly, Azriel’s eyes widened. If you didn’t know him so well, you would have never noticed the shift in his breathing, the twitch of his wings. All signs that Azriel, the Shadowsinger, was nervous. You had feared rejection, but suddenly you were hit with the new fear that you had made him uncomfortable.

“I’m sorry,” you rushed out. “I should never—you don’t have to—”

“Hey,” he rested a warm hand on the duvet covering your thigh. “Of course I will.” He stood up from the bed and moved to the couch that rested under your window, slipping off his boots. “Just let me take some of this off first.”

You shifted to face him fully, watching silently as he removed his heavy leathers from his torso, leaving his chest and arms bare with his shadows slowly snaking across him. He removed his belt and thigh holsters, then he started unlacing his pants before he paused and met your gaze. You blushed at being caught in your ogling, but Azriel didn’t seem to mind. “Is this okay? I can go get some clean clothes from my room. I just—I know you like your bed clean, and I didn’t want to climb in with these dirty leathers.”

“It’s fine, Az,” you assured him, smiling softly. 

He nodded and slipped his pants off, leaving him in his underwear. Your breath caught at the sight of his tanned, muscled thighs, and the blush on your cheeks intensified with the impure thoughts pushing to the front of your mind. A new wave of pain quickly dissolved any thoughts of debauchery, and your wince and sharp inhale had Azriel taking quick strides to your bed.

He climbed in under the covers, the warmth radiating from his body immediately seeping into your cool, damp skin. He moved around until he was on his side, facing you, and his wings sprawled out behind him. A few tendrils of shadow flitted over to you, grazing your neck and cheeks. You grinned despite the pain you were still in.

“Sorry,” Azriel murmured, and you swore his cheeks were tinged pink. “Do they bother you?”

“Not at all,” you told him honestly. “They’re…comforting, really.”

His eyes softened, and he placed a gentle hand on your shoulder. The pad of his thumb grazed the exposed skin of your collarbone, and you couldn’t help the goosebumps that appeared across your flesh. “Come here,” Azriel said softly, gently nudging you toward him.

You both shimmied closer to each other until you were fully pressed against his tattooed chest, cheek meeting the warm skin of his pectoral. You curled your arms up in between you both, letting his body fully cocoon yours as his arms wrapped around you.

“Thank you,” you whispered. “Growing up, my mother would always hold me. Whenever I was hurting. Whether it was because of my cycle, or if I was scared, or heartbroken,” your voice cracked as you continued, “She would always lay with me and just hold me.” You sniffed, and a tear rolled down your cheek as Azriel’s embrace tightened. “I miss her so much, Az,” you sobbed.

“I know, sweetheart,” he cooed and rubbed his hand up and down your arm. “You can always tell me about her. Anytime you want.”

You nodded into his chest, not ready to speak.

“I wish I could have met her,” he told you quietly. “She would be so proud of you, though, I know it. Imagine if she knew you followed the High Lord’s general out of a bar and demanded to heal his wings.”

You scoffed, but it sounded more like a choke. “I did not demand anything.” 

You couldn’t see his face, but you knew he was smiling. “True, you were too polite to do such a thing.”

“Were?”

He laughed. “But we all knew you weren’t going to let Cassian leave without you at least looking at him. Most people run the other direction when they see us, but not you.” His wing settled over the two of you softly, the added warmth and pressure a welcome comfort. “I’m so glad Cas got in that fight.”

“I am too.”

You shifted slightly so you could see the wing hovering over you. You met Azriel’s warm and watchful hazel eyes as you hesitantly reached for the delicate membrane. You paused before touching him, meeting his curious gaze, and when he didn’t stop you, you lightly brushed your fingertips across the smooth and leathery membrane. Azriel shuddered, and you quickly retracted your hand.

“Sorry,” you rushed out, your cheeks and ears hot. “I’m sorry. They’re just so beautiful. I forget how delicate and sensitive they are.”

“Sensitive, being the key word,” Az choked out.

“Sorry,” you murmured, looking away sheepishly.

“It’s okay,” he assured, pulling you tight against him again. “I don’t mind you touching them. Truly. Like I said, they’re just sensitive.”

He jostled you around a bit as he readjusted, holding you tight against him with his wing still offering an extra layer of protection. “Why don’t you try to get some sleep, yeah?” His soft, near melodic voice made you aware of your eyes starting to droop with every passing second. “I’ll stay right here,” he promised.

“Okay,” you weakly rasped as you unabashedly nuzzled against him. “Thank you, Az.”

“Anything for you, Y/N,” he whispered as his cheek rested against the top of your head. “Anything.”