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faithisyours · 3 days

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Asleep in the Library | Drabble

Azriel x Fem!reader

Summary: Azriel finds you asleep in the library, so he takes you to bed

Warnings: none really, reader and Az are mated, pure fluff

Word count: 900

A/N: Hello brethren I’m back with some Az fluff that will hopefully rot your teeth. I hope you all are doing well. Anyway, enjoy!

It had been a long day. You had dragged yourself through meeting after endless meeting, only wanting one thing. You had started a new book last night, and it was good. Really, really good. All you wanted to do was curl up in the library and continue reading. The weather was perfect for it, rainy and cold, with no chance of letting up soon. It was like the Mother knew all you wanted to do was read, and she taunted you with the ideal weather for it. But your duties came first.

Finally after hours and hours of listening to Rhys yap, you were free. You grabbed your book from your room and made your way to the library, stopping briefly in the kitchen to make yourself some tea. The library was the ideal place to read. Soft leather couches around a blazing fireplace, with windows big enough to see Velaris and experience the weather without having to be in it. It was perfect. You curled yourself into one of the couches and got to reading.

Your book was so good, but those meetings had taken their toll, and eventually you couldn’t help but nod off, soothed to sleep by the pitter-patter of rain. And this was how Azriel had found you, curled on the couch, your half-drunk cup of tea gone cold. The book you had been reading was about to slip from your fingers, and there was a shadow of goosebumps dusting your skin.

Azriel had come into the library looking for a new book to read, but when he found you, his mate, he stopped short. He didn’t want to wake you and tell you to come to bed, although it was getting pretty late, but instead grabbed a thick blanket off the side of another couch and pulled it over you. He also gently pulled the book from your hands, in fear it would soon fall and the noise would wake you up, and marked the page you were on.

Satisfied with what he had done, he pressed a small kiss to your forehead and turned to go find a new book. But you had stirred slightly, and reached out a hand and grabbed his wrist right as he had turned to leave. You pulled him back towards you, although weakly, but he complied.

“Whatime issit?” you slurred sleepily.

“Nearly 10:30 at night, my love,” he replied.

“Welll, why'd you leme sleep s’long?” you asked, starting to wake a bit more.

“I didn’t know you were down here, darling.” he said, crouching down in front of you. You grunted in response.

“Take me to bed, Az,” you wined, shifting onto your back to get a better look at him.

“As you wish,” he replied, and scooped you up. He also grabbed your book from where he had put it on the coffee table, and made his way to your rooms.

He set you down gently on the soft linen sheets of your shared bed and turned to go get changed into his pajamas. You opened your eyes just enough to see your mate through the open door of the bathing chamber. He was shirtless, his tanned tattooed skin gleaming in the fae light, his sleeping pants hanging low on his hips. You opened your eyes a bit more to get a better look.

He caught you staring, giving you a sly smile. He walked back into your bedroom and leaned over you, giving you a quick kiss on the forehead. “Are you not going to change,” he asked, an eyebrow arching.

“I’m too tired,” you said half-heartedly, “can you do it?”

“Of course, my love,” he replied smoothly. He went over to your dresser and opened the top drawer, then proceeded to rifle through it until he found what he was looking for. He shut the drawer and turned to you, presenting one of his shirts that you stole and now occasionally sleep in. He always acts mad that you stole the shirt, but you know he loves it when you wear it.

He walked back over to you and sat on the side of the bed, then gently pulled you to sit up. He dragged your shirt up and over your head while you lifted your arms for him. And then he leaned close, arms going around to your back, as he unhooked your bra and pulled it off you. He gave you a small kiss on the cheek before pulling away.

He replaced the garments he just took off with the stolen shirt, then moved on to your bottom half. He took your socks off first, making sure to put them in the hamper that sat in the corner of the room, then unbuttoned your pants and pulled them down your legs.

You lie there in a state of in between sleep and awareness, admiring your mate taking care of you. Finally your pants came off, which made Azriel’s job done. He got up, walked around the room turning the lights off, then crawled into bed next to you. You cuddled into his side, already half asleep from earlier, and drifted off to the sight of Azriel reading your book in the soft glow of fae light next to him.

#azriel fanfiction #acotar #azriel shadowsinger #fluff #comfort #azriel fluff #night court #velaris #fanfiction #acotar fic

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faithisyours · 14 days

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Returning Home

Azriel x Fem!reader (or GN reader)

Summary: Azriel comes back from a long and slightly traumatic mission bloodied and filthy, so you give him a bath.

Warnings: fluff, blood, nudity but its not sexual, Az and reader are mated, reader caring for Azriel, not proofread,

Word Count: 2.6k (I’m sorry)

A/N: Whatisupyouguys I’m back with another disgustingly sweet fluffy Azriel fic for you. I’m a slut for caring for this poor man, so that is what you will receive. School has been kicking my ass but I was able to pop this sucker out and am working on more Az fics, some of them spicy, even. Also, if you have any ideas for fics and you’d like to share, I’m all ears. I am pretty busy with school but summer is approaching and I plan on writing a ton. Even though this is fluff, minors please gtfo. Enjoy!

You were awoken from your slumber when you heard the back door slam. It was one AM. Why was your door slamming at one AM? That is what you asked yourself, and you could not come up with a good reason. So, you silently slipped from the warm caress of your blankets into the chilled air of your bedroom, pulling on your robe and grabbing the bat Azriel liked to keep next to your bedside table as you tiptoed out of your room.

You made your way down the hallway towards the source of the noise, the bat held high above your shoulder. You didn't think the intruder was dangerous, but it's better to be safe than sorry. As you silently made your way towards the original source of noise, you heard off to your left a shuffling of feet. You pivoted, slinking your way now towards the kitchen.

You drew the bat back, gearing up to swing, and hurtled yourself through the kitchen. But you came to a screeching halt when you saw your mate, Azriel, leaning over the kitchen counter, still as a statue, not even looking up to acknowledge your presence. He was covered in blood and grime, his leathers were muddied and damp, his shadows frantically swirling around him.

He had been on a mission, this you had known. He had told you this one might take a while. He had told you that two weeks ago. You had not expected him here, back home, at this hour, covered in gods knew what. It took you by surprise, his presence, but also the state he was in. He looked half dead, drained and pale and haggard. You dropped the bat.

The noise caught his attention. He raised his head, although it looked like it took effort, and locked eyes with you. Those hazel depths you loved so much now looked dull and dark. You moved towards him, your bare feet clicking on the polished wood beneath.

“Az?” you asked quietly, not wanting to startle him further. He pushed up from the counter, standing, but not to his full height. He was slouching in on himself, his wings almost dragging on the ground. He looked so tired.

You caressed his cheek in your hand, wanting to feel him. His shadows embraced you, but remained frantically swirling. You had missed him so much, it had almost torn you in two. And now he was here, in front of you, back to where he should be. But somehow it felt as though you had only gotten his body back, his mind still somewhere else. You tugged on the bond, hoping to get a reaction, recognition, something out of him. A small pull on the shadowy thread connecting you two was all you received.

“You’re home,” you breathed, “I’m so glad you’re home.” Both of your hands were now caressing his face, which was prickly from weeks of not shaving. He was staring back at you, but his eyes were vacant, barely any recognition that you were standing in front of him. It made your chest ache. You distracted yourself by looking over him, checking for injuries or any signs of distress. You found none, but you would have to get his leathers off to be completely sure.

“Azriel,” you grabbed his face and locked eyes with him, “You need a bath, okay? I’m going to give you one. Nod your head if you understand.” It was almost imperceptible, his nod, but you felt it, and that was enough. You took his hand in yours and led him towards the bathing chamber, which was just off to the left of your shared bedroom.

You stripped off your robe and hung it on the door, then turned to the massive tub and turned the water on. While you waited for it to fill, you turned your attention back to your mate. “I’m going to take your leathers off, okay?” He nodded, and it was visible this time. You took that as a good sign.

You began with his top, unbuckling and unbuttoning until his chest was bare. You looked over him once again, checking for injuries. You noticed some slight bruising on his ribs and a healing slash on his right bicep, but nothing extreme. You weren’t happy about him being injured, but he would live, which meant so would you. His wings didn’t look injured much, either, but they were covered in mud and splattered with blood. Gods, what had happened to him?

You checked on the state of the tub, adjusting the temperature and adding some rose oil into the water. The water level was almost to where you wanted it to be. Once again you turned your attention towards Azriel, this time to his bottom half. You pulled at the laces of his pants, loosening them enough to slide them down his legs. He lifted his legs, one at a time, so you could pull the material off. You also took this as a good sign.

You didn’t know what had happened on his mission to make him borderline catatonic, but you would do everything in your power to help get him back to his usual self. His shadows had calmed down a bit, now swirling slowly around the both of you, the frenzied movements gone. You looked towards the tub, the water at the perfect level, so you turned the faucet off. You tugged your nightgown over your head, then slid your panties off, joining Azriel in his nakedness.

You pulled him towards the tub, urging him to climb in. He did as instructed, sliding down into the water and pulling his knees up to his chest. You climbed in after him, sinking down into the steamy water so that you were kneeling in front of him. You grabbed the spong and lathered soap onto it, then got to work.

You grabbed one of his arms, pulling it out towards you, and started scrubbing the grime off his tattooed skin. “I made blueberry muffins while you were away,” you informed him, trying to distract him from whatever he was thinking about and pull him back to you. “I know they’re your favorite, but don’t get too excited. I ate them all. But I’ll make more tomorrow, okay?” his eyes were on your hands, where you were scrubbing his arm, but he nodded in recognition.

You moved on to his other arm, repeating the ministrations you had just done. Wanting to distract him further, you said: “Last week I went to Rita’s with Mor, Cassian, Nesta, and Feyre, and Cass got so drunk that by the end of the night he was telling Nesta he was mated and couldn’t go home with her. She hasn’t let him live it down since.” You smirked at the memory. Azriel looked slightly more relaxed, the corner of his lips almost lifted. Almost.

His arms were clean, so you moved on to his legs. They were less dirty compared to his arms, having been soaking for a while longer, but still needed scrubbing. You picked his left leg up by the ankle, raising and extending it so that it was just below the water, and began scrubbing. You wracked your brain for more stories to tell him, but you could not come up with any. So you stayed quiet.

Azriel so rarely let you take care of him. He always focused on you and your needs. And although the circumstances were not the best, you enjoyed being able to care for your mate in this way. You just prayed to the Mother your care would be enough to bring him out of the headspace he was in.

You finished cleaning his legs, which left his torso, back, and wings to scrub. Wanting to save his wings for last, you opted for his torso first. Azriel had pulled his knees back up to his chest, but you needed them down in order to properly wash him. So you grabbed his legs again, laying them flat, and when he resisted, you spoke down the bond, “I need your legs flat so I can clean your chest, okay?” He stopped resisting, letting you do what you needed to do. You lathered more soap onto the sponge, then scooched closer to him. You could feel his eyes on your face, and with it could feel him coming back to himself. You almost sighed in relief.

Bringing the sponge to his neck, you started scrubbing in small circles over his skin. You brought your free hand to his shoulder to lean him back, putting him at a better angle for you to see where you needed to scrub a little harder. Azriel brought his hands up to your hips, not grabbing them, just placing them on you. The action startled you slightly, just because you weren't expecting it. But once the shock went away, you leaned into his touch, the action as grounding for him as it was for you, and gave him a quick kiss on the cheek.

You continued your ministries on his chest, slowly but surely making progress. When you were halfway down his torso you felt an immense wave of gratitude and love pouring down the bond at you. You couldn’t help but smile, pouring your own love and reassurance down the bond towards him. Finally all that was left was his back and wings. The bathwater was still warm, but you could feel it cooling down. And you wanted to get Azriel clean before the water got cold.

You put the sponge down and laid your hands on top of where he rested his on your hips. “Your wings need washing, they’re covered in quite a bit of blood and dirt. Do you want to clean them, or do you want me to?” you asked gently. He looked up at you, hazel eyes clashing with yours.

“Could you…” his voice was thick, and hoarse, so he cleared it. “Could you do it?” he asked quietly.

“Of course, my love.” you replied, rubbing your hands over his in reassurance. He turned around, giving his back to you, and once again brought his knees up to his chest. You tried not to think about it too hard, the fact that Azriel, the gods damned Shadowsinger of the Night Court, an Illarian fucking warrior, was drawing his knees to his chest, slouching in on himself, making himself smaller due to the memories wreaking havoc in his mind. You wanted to know what happened, shoulder some of the burden for him, sooth his mind from these memories. But it was unlikely he would tell you anything tonight.

You picked the sponge back up, added more soap to it, and began scrubbing his back. You started on his upper back, gliding the sponge over his tattooed skin. Running the sponge down between his wings drew out a long sigh from Azriel. Wanting to save his wings for last, you then focused on his lower back, gliding your free hand along with the sponge, wanting to make sure you were getting all the grime off him as well as comfort him with your touch.

Finally, all that was left were his wings. You started at the base of them, working your way up and over the dark, scarred membranes. Azriel extended each one while you worked, following your movements and positioning them so that you didn’t have to. You glided the sponge firmly along the patagium of each wing, working quickly to clean the grime off. You had learned over the years that this was the best and most efficient way. There was no way to avoid the sensitivity of the wings and what they elicited, but working swiftly, as well as using something other than your hand, seemed to ease some of the tension that would inevitably build up when it came to touching wings.

You looked over his back and wings one more time, checking for spots you might have missed, but found none. So, you put the sponge down and turned your attention to the person, rather than the body, in front of you. You placed your hands on his shoulders and scooched closer to him, so that your front was pressed up against his back. And then you slid your arms around his front, embracing him from behind.

You stayed like that until the water went cold, the only sounds filling the room were your synchronized breathing. Azriel broke the silence first. “Thank you,” he whispered, “for taking care of me. I don’t deserve you.” You tightened your embrace in response.

“I’m going to go get the bed warmed while you dry off, alright?” you said over his shoulder. He nodded, and adamant nod, a nod you knew was going to be the last nod you received before he picked back up answering with words.

You unwrapped yourself from your mate and climbed out of the tub, grabbing a towel on your way back into your room. You quickly wrapped the towel around you then got to work warming the bed. You also lit the fireplace, both for added warmth but also in hopes it would help Az sleep better. And just as you were getting done adding enough wood to the fire to last the night, Az walked out of the bathing room, a towel wrapped around his waist.

Besides looking clean, he looked much more himself now. His shadows had traveled out to the corners of the room, seeking darkness away from the fireplace. You hoped they didn’t mind much. You got up from your place before the fire and walked towards him. He embraced you this time, pulling his strong arms around your body, holding you to him.

“I love you so much it hurts sometimes,” he said, barely above a whisper, “I’ll tell you about it tomorrow, but I’d like to cuddle with my mate now, if that's okay.” It was your turn to nod. You pulled away slightly, looking up into his eyes. You could live with him telling you what had happened tomorrow. And for now, you kissed him, gentle and slow, pouring as much comfort and love as you could down the bond. And he kissed you back like he was a dying man and your kiss was his lifeline. You supposed, in a way, it was.

You broke the kiss, shed each other of your towels, and tumbled into bed, holding one another like death was the alternative.

“Thank you,” Azriel whispered to you.

“You’re welcome, my love,” you replied. And you fell asleep, tangled together in an embrace.

#acotar #acotar fic #azriel fanfiction #azriel fluff #azriel shadowsinger #azriel x reader #fanfiction #comfort #night court #velaris #fem reader

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faithisyours · 28 days

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Just a Dream

Azriel x Fem!reader

Summary: after a long day you come home to the house of wind to find Azriel having a nightmare.

Warnings: fluff, comfort, talk of nightmares, mentions of family and friend death, not too detailed, though, not proof read

Word count: 2.1k

a/n: Hello, God? It’s me again. I’m here on both knees to offer you some bbg Azriel content. This man is tormented, just the way I like them. First Azriel fic, and first ACOTAR fic in general, so please don’t kill me if I get any of the lore wrong (I read these books a while ago and barely remember the plot😅). This came to me in a dream. I’m just kidding. I’m gonna quit my yapping and go now. Minors please go away. Enjoy :)

It had been a long day. Your mission had taken longer than you had expected. Rhys, your High Lord, had sent you to do a routine check on the southern border, but of course, since it was your turn to do this check, a fight had broken out, one that you had to break up, and smooth over, and make sure wouldn’t happen again, and file a report for. By the time you were done, it was already dark out.

You double checked you had completed everything you needed to do, as well as make sure you had filled out that report correctly. Gods forbid you forgot to fill in one pesky section. Rhys would be on your ass about it for weeks. Finally, when you had double checked everything and grown too tired to care if you had forgotten something, you winnowed back to the house of wind, your home.

It was quiet, not even the noise of the house settling could be heard. You tip-toed your way to the kitchen for a little something to eat, your long and busy day allowing no time for dinner. You made yourself a plate, stacking crackers, cheese, meats, and fruits atop one another. The house provided a glass of cold water for you, and you took it, thanking the house silently.

You made your way up to your room. You didn’t want to stay in the kitchen for fear you would make too much noise. So you padded up the steps and down the hallway, but before you could make it to your room, you heard muffled noises coming from inside the Shadowsinger’s chambers. At first you thought it was the noises of a well spent night, but as you grew closer, something you had no choice in doing since to get to your room you had to pass Azriel’s door, the muffled noises were that of distress.

“No, no please! Don’t!” you heard the Shadowsinger call out. He must be having a nightmare, you thought. You did not know what possessed you to open his door and walk right in, but you did. You saw the Illarian sprawled out on his massive bed, blankets tangled around his legs and damp from sweat. His bare chest heaved and glistened with a sheen of cold perspiration.

You put your plate of food and glass of water down on the dresser, then slowly closed the door behind you. You did not want anyone to find you in here, but you also did not want Azriel's nightmare to wake the whole house. You were all aware he had them, everyone in this house had them, and occasionally one would be bad enough to wake the whole floor. The fact that everyone had them made the embarrassment more manageable, but it was embarrassing nonetheless. And you did not want Azriel to be embarrassed.

You took a moment to consider how best to wake him. He was thrashing slightly, his movements becoming more rapid, and he was crying out louder now. You needed to pull him from this dream, and soon. You chose to call his name quietly, in hopes that would pull him out of his torment, but your efforts were futile. You decided you were going to have to touch him.

You made your way to the side of his bed and sat. You turned to face him, so that your right leg was on the bed, bent at the knee, body facing the headboard. You gently took his hand in yours, then slowly began tracing circles on the top of it. This seemed to stir him just a little, but not enough. He was still squirming, eyelids twitching, still calling out in distress.

“Please, don’t! Take me instead. I deserve…” he trailed off. You began calling his name, starting quiet but getting louder. You were sliding your free hand up and down his arm soothingly, the other held tight in Azriel’s scarred hand. But your efforts were still not working.

You shifted your body fully onto the bed now, kneeling next to him, making sure you weren’t pinning his wings. “Azriel, it’s just a dream. Wake up. You’re safe,” you cooed. With your free hand, you cupped his cheek, trying to stop his shaking. “Az, wake up! Please!” Your pleading was getting louder, and you were scared you were going to be the one to wake the whole floor. “It’s just a dream. You are safe. It’s just a dream.”

In an instant Azriel sat up and frantically grabbed onto you. He was disoriented, upset, and panicky, but your words calmed him. “Azriel, you were dreaming. You’re alright. It was just a dream,” you told him. You smoothed away the hair that was stuck to his forehead with sweat. Cupping his cheek, you forced his eyes to meet yours. You searched those hazel depths, trying to gauge his understanding of the situation. “It was just a dream, Az,” you repeated, and did not break eye contact until he nodded that he understood. When he started to calm down you removed your hand from his cheek, dropping it down to the hand clasped in your other one. “Just a dream,” he murmured, nodding slightly.

You suddenly became very aware that you were in a half-dressed Illarian male’s bed. Azriel was one of your dearest friends, but that didn’t make the situation any less awkward. It’s not like you’ve never been in his room, or seen him without a shirt, it was just never both at the same time. Trying not to dwell on it, you asked, “Do you want to talk about it,” for which he promptly shook his head. “Would you like some food?” you offered, remembering the plate of food that still sat on his dresser. He looked up at you questioningly, so you slid off the bed, walked over and grabbed the plate of food, then walked back, presenting it to him with a half-grin on your face.

“Why?” he simply asked, growing increasingly confused.

“I just got back from my mission and didn’t get the chance to eat dinner, so I was gonna take this to my room so that I wouldn't wake anyone up but I heard you, so…” you trailed off. He nodded in understanding.

“So this is your dinner?” he asked, trying not to dwell on the last part of your sentence, the fact that he was talking and you heard him. It was your turn to nod.

“Ya, but I think my eyes were bigger than my stomach. You can have some,” you reassured, grabbing a grape and popping it into your mouth. You lowered the plate onto the bed next to him, then sat. Az took a cube of cheese and a cracker, then slid them into his mouth in one fell swoop. He chewed slowly, then swallowed. He was sitting up now, his sheets still tangled in his legs, but he seemed to be calming down a great deal.

“There was a fight that broke out at the border today,” you offered, trying to distract him further from what remained of his dream. “Right when I was almost done, too! I had to stay an extra two hours to smooth everything over. Ridiculous!” you exclaimed. Az breathed out a huff of amusement, a small smile making its way onto his lips. “Oh, you think it's funny?” you teased with an incredulous tone. His smile was starting to part his lips, and you couldn’t resist yourself, you smiled back.

“Thank you,” he said, picking up a strawberry and raising it to you in thanks.

“No problem,” you replied. You were about to stand up and leave, but he stopped you with a hand over yours.

“What did… what was I saying?” he asked you shyly.

“Oh um…” you were startled by his question slightly. You didn’t want to bring up a sore subject, but he was the one asking, so you guessed it was alright. “Ya know just the usual “no, please don’t”’s and the “take me instead”’s. Very chivalrous of you, might I add.” You wanted to lighten the mood a bit, but it didn’t seem to be working. There was a line between the Shadowsinger’s eyebrows, and his eyes were downcast. “You also said you deserved to go instead, but that part was a little unclear.” You didn’t mean to pry, but you were curious. And if Azriel thought he deserved to die instead of someone else because he deserved it, well you were going to have to fix that opinion real quick.

Az simply nodded. It did not seem like he wanted to elaborate on that last part, so you offered up one of your most common nightmares in hopes it would comfort him. “I often dream about my family being killed in front of me. That I am restrained or incapacitated in some way that prevents me from helping. And I always seem to offer myself in exchange for their lives. It never works, though.” His eyes were on you now, sorrow-filled hazel that glittered in the moonlight streaming through the windows. His fingers had taken up tracing lines on the hand of yours that was clasped in his.

“That's not your fault,” he whispered. You both sat there for a long minute. “I was…” he started, but seemed to think better of it. You placed your free hand over his, encouraging him to continue. He took a deep breath. “In my dream, Cassian was in trouble. He’s my brother, my closest friend, I couldn’t just do nothing. I offered myself as an alternative. Cass is so good, so much better than me. I guess I just thought… he deserves to live,” he paused, “more than I do.” he finished, and it took everything in you not to break down right in front of him.

“Azriel,” your tone was firm. “You are good. So good. You are amazing, and so so loved. And I know it was just a dream… but our thoughts influence them, and they influence us. Please believe me when I say you do not deserve to die in the place of someone else because it would be better, or because you are not good enough. You are.” Tears were threatening to pool in your eyes. Azriel was one of your closest friends, and your life would be incomplete without him in it. You lifted your hand to caress his cheek, pouring comfort and reassurance through your touch.

He nodded. “Thank you,” he said again. “For waking me up, and for your words. And for the food,” he added after a small pause. You gave him a small smile, and he returned it. You got up to leave, wanting to take a hot bath and change, but he stopped you. “Can you…can you stay, maybe?” he asked. You grinned, how could you not? You loved his awkwardness.

“Yes. But under conditions.” He waited for you to continue. “I stink, so I’m going to take a bath. And then I’ll come back in, okay? Give me thirty minutes.” he nodded once again.

You made your way to your room, plate of food and glass of water in hand. You quickly bathed, and ate, then changed into your sleeping clothes. You weren't going to lie to yourself, either. You were glad Az asked you to stay in his room. Both of you calmed each other down in a way no one else could. This was not the first time you had slept in each other's beds, either. Your relationship was strictly platonic, but Azriel’s cuddles were unmatched, and you always seemed to sleep better in his presence, the same going for him.

Once you were done bathing and changing, you made your way back to the Shadowsinger’s room. He had changed the sheets of his bed, and was now wearing a shirt. He sat propped against his headboard reading a book. You made sure to close the door behind you, then made your way over to his bed. You pulled the blankets back and crawled in, snuggling right into the side of him. He dog-eared his page in the book (an act that almost made you get back up and leave) and set it on his night stand. He sank down into his bed and wrapped his arms around you. And there you both slept, peacefully, dreaming of absolutely nothing.

#azriel #azriel fanfiction #acotar #night court #azriel fic #comfort #fluff #azriel fluff #azriel shadowsinger #fanfic #female reader

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faithisyours · 1 month

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A Salvaged Night

Mountain x fem!reader

Summary: Mountain comes home after a long day of band practice to find you in the kitchen making dinner. Things go slightly awry, but you make the most of your night together.

Warnings: comfort fic to smut, reader has some negative feelings about self, established relationship, knotting (cause who do you think I am?), PIV, oral both receiving, praise kink I guess, unprotected sex, use of tail, a little bit of aftercare

Word Count: 2.7k

Note: This got off track a little but that's what I get for not having a plan when I start writing. This is my first time writing smut so be gentle. If I missed any warnings please let me know. I forgot to write this in my last post but minors DNI. I want to write more so if you have any ideas you want to share feel free to request them. Hope y'all enjoy.

It had been getting late and Mountain still had not come home from band practice, so you decided to start making dinner for the both of you as a surprise. Pasta had sounded like a good idea at the time, but your time management had gotten away from you, and now the pasta water was nearly boiling over, the sauce was getting everywhere, and the chicken was close to burning. In your frazzled state you did not hear the door open, so when two arms slid around you from behind you almost punched the culprit. Almost.

“Oh my Dark Lord! Mountain,” you exclaimed. “I didn’t hear you come in.” You gave him a swift kiss on the lips, then turned back to the disaster that was supposed to be dinner. You moved the pot with the sauce off the hot burner and onto a vacant one, then moved out of Mountain’s embrace to put the colander in the sink. The kitchen had progressively been getting more smokey, but now the smoke alarm decided it needed to go off that instant. You hated the noise, hated how loud it was. The blaring made you want to crawl out of your skin, and Mountain knew this. While your hands flew to cover your ears, Mountain went to get your headphones, which were never far from where you were. He quickly put them on you, then turned the oven off, took the boiling-over pasta and poured it into the colander, then took the slightly-more-burnt-than-is-acceptable chicken out of the oven. He fanned the smoke detector, which finally relented and stopped blaring.

Naturally, you were now upset. You had wanted to do something nice for your partner but instead had made a mess and had to have someone else clean it up. It seemed like this always happened, but today especially, you were not in the mood. Mountain noticed your distress and came closer to you.

“Can I take these off?” he asked gently as he reached up to your headphones. You nodded, and so the headphones came off. The commotion had finally died down, and now what was left was the mess. A tear had worked its way out of your eye and was now slowly making its way down your cheek. Mountain brushed it away with his thumb, then pulled you into a tight hug, a hug that hit all the right pressure points, the ones he was so good at giving.

“I just… I just wanted… to make dinner for you,” you sniffled. Mountain hugged you impossibly tighter.

“I know, my love. And you did. Nothing is ruined,” he assured you. “We can fix it together, okay?” You nodded, sniffling still. His embrace loosened, but he did not fully pull away. You both turned to the stove, the source of all the previous commotion. “I’m gonna open a window, okay?” Again you nodded. He kissed the top of your head, then went to open the window.

You moved to the stove, made sure all the burners were off, then took the drained pasta and mixed it with the sauce. Once that was done, you moved your attention to the chicken. It was pretty burnt, but there were parts that could be saved. You worked to salvage those pieces, starting to feel a little better about the situation. Mountain came back and stood close to you, offering his help in any way you wanted it.

Once the table was set and the food was on the plates, you began to relax. Both of you sat and began eating dinner, which hadn’t turned out too bad. Finally you were able to focus all your attention on Mountain, and you found that he looked drained and slightly annoyed. Internally you began kicking yourself. How could you have not noticed? Was the dinner debacle to blame? Were you to blame? If so, you wanted to fix it, needed to fix it. You couldn’t stand being the reason the love of your life was annoyed at you.

“Are you alright Mounty? You look kinda drained. I hope the dinner fiasco didn’t cause that. If it did, tell me how I can fix it.” You were starting to grow concerned.

Mountain sighed and shook his head. “No, no, darling, don’t worry about me. Practice was just a lot today. Copia was grumpy, which made Dew grumpy, which then made everyone grumpy. It was just long and irritating,” he explained. “But I'm glad to be home now, with you. Thank you for making dinner. I really appreciate it.” He gave you a soft smile. You returned it, reassured by his words.

“Do you want to watch a movie after this? Your choice,” you offered, in hopes it would brighten his mood. He nodded.

“How about Howl's Moving Castle?” he offered. That was a favorite of both of yours. You smiled and nodded in agreement.

Once you had finished dinner and the dishes were in the dishwasher, you both made your way into the living room. Mountain pulled the movie up while you grabbed extra blankets and turned the lights off. You both got settled on the couch, snuggled together and covered in a questionable amount of blankets.

The movie was good, like always, but your attention was on Mountain. On where his hand was, what his fingers were doing. He was just tracing innocent circles on your thigh, but it was distracting. You mirrored his movements with your fingers on his arm, slowly tracing circles, feeling his warmth underneath your touch. He shifted his hand higher up your thigh. Your breathing became shallow. You shifted your hand slowly down to his stomach, continuing to trace invisible circles. Now it was his turn for shallow breathing. Two could play at that game, you thought.

Your eyes were watching his side profile in the dark, his soft lips and strong nose glowing from the screen. A small smirk played at the corner of his lips. You knew what he was doing. He knew you knew. And you knew he knew what you were trying to do, too. His eyes shifted to look at you from the side, but before they could land on you, you turned your face back to the screen. Out of the corner of your eye you saw his smirk grow.

His hand shifted even higher, taking liberties in exploring your soft skin. Heat was pooling at your core. The couch shifted, and before you knew it, Mountain was leaning in close to your ear.

“You trace once more circle on my stomach and I’ll show you all the things I thought about doing to you while at band practice today,” he growled out in a hushed voice. Your cheeks proceeded to heat, your breath hitched, and your hand stilled. But only for a moment. You turned your head and looked directly at him, your eyes locked onto a set of endless green. And you traced one more circle.

His smile grew, his eyes sparkled with mischief, every sign of him being drained or annoyed from earlier was gone. His lips crashed into yours for an all-consuming kiss. It was messy and wet. His hands came up to cup your face, yours went to his waist to pull him in. Your tongues tangled together, turning from quick and lustful to slow and passionate.

Mountain leaned into you, pushing you down onto the couch. He broke the kiss only to push the blankets that were in between the both of you onto the floor. Now there was nothing between the two of you except your clothes. Your need was growing fast, and you could feel Mountain getting harder between the both of you. You continued to kiss and nibble, but you were growing impatient. You reached down to cup Mountain, giving him a soft squeeze, which granted you a groan.

“Not yet, love,” he murmured against your lips, then pulled your hand away from him. Through kisses and licks and bites, he worked his way down your body, giving special attention to your breasts and love handles. Mountain was obsessed with your body, always wanting to touch it or kiss it or lick it. His happy place was at the altar of your body. He worked your clothes off one article at a time, slowly exposing your skin to the air and his lips. Finally you were naked underneath him, while he was still fully clothed, albeit disheveled.

“Spread these for me, would you?” he asked, taping your thighs. You did as you were told, which rewarded you a long lick up your core. Mountain ate you out like it was his favorite thing to do. Probably because it was one of his favorite things to do. He licked and sucked, using his hand to keep you open for him while the other kneaded your thighs and your breasts and your belly. Occasionally he would groan against you, the vibration only adding to your pleasure. Your release was growing closer, evident by the increased frequency of your moaning and whimpering. Mountain picked up the speed a little, his pace remaining strong and steady. He slipped a finger into you, which earned him a loud moan. He then added a second, which was your undoing.

Pleasure coated every sense, blurring time and space and consciousness. You rode the wave of your release for minutes or hours or days, you couldn’t tell, but when you came back to reality, Mountain was still lapping at you. You pushed him away, oversensitive and blissed out. He chuckled, then relented, kissing your thigh then moving back over you.

He kissed your swollen lips, then moved to your jaw, waiting for you to gain your senses back. Once you could finally see straight, you pushed to sit up.

“Your turn,” you whispered into his ear, a grin playing on your lips. You pushed him into a sitting position, then straddled his hips. While your hands worked to undo the buttons of his shirt, you kissed him anywhere you could. His lips, tasting yourself on them, his nose, his cheeks, his jaw, his neck. You couldn't get enough. Mountains hands roamed over your body, squeezing and kneading and sliding anywhere they could. It was very distracting, but finally you got his shirt off, exposing his long, golden torso to you. Next to come off were his pants. You could feel him hard and ready for you, it seemed almost painful. You kissed your way down his chest and belly, sliding off his lap to in between his legs. Your hands worked fast unbuckling and unzipping his pants. You worked his pants and boxers down his legs, throwing them to the side once they were fully off. Finally he was naked before you, just how you wanted him.

You looked up into the earth ghoul’s endless green eyes to find them blown out with desire. Eyes locked with his, you slowly worked small kisses and bites along his thighs, getting closer and closer to where he needed you. He was already a whimpering, moaning mess, and you hadn’t even touched him yet.

Finally you took him into your mouth, his salty-sweet taste coating your tongue. Both of you moaned at the same time. Not all of him fit in your mouth, so you covered the rest of him with one of your hands. Mountain was restraining himself from touching you, afraid he would snap and hurt you. You would have no such thing. With your free hand you guided one of his hands into your hair, making sure your eyes, still locked with his, were full of reassurance. Slowly you began to move, setting a slow and steady pace. His grip on your hair progressively got tighter, the profanities and groans spilling out of him more frequently.

“Fuck, you look so pretty with my dick in your mouth,” he babbled. “Your mouth is a blessing from Satan, I swear.” His hand was starting to move your head faster, making you take him deeper, nearly gagging on his length. “Fuck, babe, your mouth feels so good. Taking me like the good girl you are,” he breathed. You moaned at his words, which made his grip on your hair even tighter. His pace grew quicker, his release growing closer and closer.

“Wanna put my knot in you,” he ground out. “Need it.” He pulled your mouth away from him, lifting you up to straddle his hips. He brought your lips to his, tasting himself on you, tangling his tongue with yours. Need was building back up inside you. You lined yourself up with him and sank down, his large size stretching you, the perfect amount of pain and pleasure.

Your hands tangled in his hair, his hands gripping your hips for dear life, you began to slowly roll your hips. Mountain let out a long, low moan, a noise that only added to your own arousal. You loved how vocal he was with you. The first time you had experienced him in this way, it had surprised you how much noise he made. The quiet ones always have tricks up their sleeves, you thought. But now you couldn't get enough of his noises. Every grunt and groan and whimper only made you more wet. Mountain knew this, too.

You could feel his knot growing, the pressure building every time you took him fully into you. Both of you were panting and sweaty, the only thing both of you wanted was release. Mountain shifted his hand down to play with your clit, knowing you weren’t as close as he was to finishing.

“Want you to come on my knot,” he whispered. You moaned, picking up the pace, chasing your high. Mountain kissed down from your lips to your jaw to your neck, surly leaving marks. Good, you thought, you wanted everyone to know you were his. Your pace grew sloppy and more urgent, so Mountain took over, gripping your hips hard enough to leave a mark. His tail replaced his fingers on your clit, circling and flicking and teasing. You were close, and so was he.

The pressure from his knot was growing, making it difficult to move. Finally, when you felt so full and stretched by him, you came, hard, screaming his name, along with a plethora of other profanities you don’t remember. Not long after, you felt Mountain tense, his grip on you impossibly tight, and come with your name on his lips. You felt his warm release spill inside you, held in by his glorious knot. You were both breathing hard, fucked out to oblivion, leaning on one another for support.

You came back down sooner than he did, so you just held him and played with his hair until he finally came back to reality. He pulled away slightly to look at you, his eyes half lidded and sated. He tucked a loose strand of hair behind your ear, then caressed your jaw.

“Do you need anything, love?” he quietly asked. “Any water or anything?” You shook your head. You didn’t want to move, content with staying where you were. But you wanted to make sure he didn’t need anything either, so you asked the same. He shook his head as well, planted a kiss on your forehead, then snuggled you closer to him.

You watched the rest of the movie like that, tangled in each others arms, til you both nodded off to sleep.

#ghost the band #the band ghost #smut #fluff #mountain ghoul #ghost sweden #ghost smut #comfort

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faithisyours · 2 months

Text

Lyric Break

Copa x Fem Reader

Warnings: Mostly fluff but there are insinuations of smut, not proof read

Summery: you find Copia in his office laboring over lyrics and decide he needs a massage to relieve his tension

Word Count: 1.7k

Also I wanted to say that this is my first fanfic ever so if you don’t like it you don’t have to tell me 🫶 I’ve been a fan of Ghost for a while now, but finally decided to start writing stuff about them. I’m also a fan of Sleep Token, so I might start writing stuff for them, too. If you want a part 2 then I guess let me know. I decided to write this because I’m taking an English class and we keep talking about fan fiction (like full on conversations about different fanfics and what books came out of it, which I love, honestly). You can request stuff if you want but I might not have time to write it. Thanks for reading. Hope you enjoy :)

“Satan damn it”

You were walking past Copia’s office on the way to the library to return some books when you heard his cry of frustration. You stopped walking, curiosity getting the better of you, and turned to his office door, which was slightly ajar. You knocked softly, not wanting to startle him.

“Come in.” you heard him say, still with a frustrated tone. You peaked your head in, unsure whether or not you should be intruding. He was leaning over his desk, which was littered with crumpled pieces of paper, his face contorted in irritation. But then he looked up at you, and a small smile tugged at the corners of his lips.

“Cara mia. Come in, come in, please.” He leaned back into his chair, pushed his hands through his hair, and let out a long breath. You stepped fully into his office now, still unsure weather you were intruding or not.

“I’m sorry to bug you Papa, I just heard your frustration and wanted to make sure you were alright,” you say, making your way over to his desk.

You and Copia had been dating for a few months now, but you both decided to keep your relationship on the down low so as to not allow the ministry rumor mill to twist it into something it’s not. His role as Papa was delicate right now, and dating a sister of sin for someone in his position was risky. Dating someone of his position for you was risky as well. But you never felt like you were his dirty little secret. Your relationship was good, better than good. You were starting to fall for him, and he for you.

“Si, Si, I am bene, dolcezza, I just cannot seem to get this lyric the way I want it.” he sighs, looking down at the paper he was laboring over when you first walked in.

“I see. Can I help with anything?” you ask, walking over next to him to read what he’s written so far. You slip your hand over his shoulder, wanting to feel a little closer to him. You love touching him, feeling his body heat beneath your skin.

“I do not think so, mi amore. Our Dark Lord will have to help me with this one.” He pats your hand that rests on his shoulder.

“Well, is there anything else I can help you with? You seem a little tense.” You rub your thumbs into his shoulder blades gently, assessing his tension. He's knotted up, his muscles tight underneath your thumbs. “My love you are tense. You have been working too hard, pushing yourself too much. Here, come with me. I know what you need.” You take his hand, pulling him from his chair, and start marching out of the room. He stands but does not move any further. You feel his resistance, and look back at him over your shoulder.

“I have work to do, dolcezza. I cannot just leave. Especially for that,” he lifts an eyebrow at you, attempting to imply that he thought you mean sex. “I am also not in the mood.” he states, dropping his hand from yours.

“My love, that is not what I am offering.” You turn to face him, picking up his hands. He has his gloves on, like he always does when he is working. You have a love-hate relationship with those gloves. You love the cool touch of the leather on your skin, but at times you would much rather feel his warm, calloused skin. This was one of those times. You look up into his mismatched eyes, and you can see how tired he is.

“Just come with me, it won’t take that long,” you assure him. He sighs, looking down at where your hands hold his.

“Okay, but I cannot be gone for long. You know how Sister Imperator gets.” He gives you a stern look, imitating Sister Imperator, which makes you giggle.

You pull him through the halls of the ministry, making your way to your rooms while also trying to be inconspicuous. There are many siblings out in the hallway this time of day, and suspicions do not need to be raised about why Copia is following you to your rooms.

You make it to your rooms with minimal suspicion. Pulling Copia through the door quickly, you make sure to lock the door behind you. You press a quick kiss to his cheek, then make your way to the bathroom. You rifle through your lotions, trying to pick one that isn’t overly scented, and once you’ve acquired what you’re looking for, you exit the bathroom and go set the lotion on the bedside table.

Finally you turn your attention to Copia, who is looking slightly confused and still a little irritated. You make your way to him, giving him a smile that says you are determined to make him feel better.

“Okay, take off your shirt,” you tell him, and start pulling his shirt up to reveal a patch of bare skin. Before you can expose more of him, though, he grabs your hand, stopping you.

“Mi amore, I thought we agreed to none of that.” he arches a brow at you.

“We did, and that's not what I’m doing. Just trust me, Okay?” you give him an assuring smile. He concedes, taking his shirt off, and throws it over to a chair in the corner. You can’t help yourself. You ogle a little. You love his body, and his happy trail looks especially good today, but that is not what you are here for.

“Okay, now lay down on the bed, on your belly,” you instruct him. He shoots you another questioning look, but says nothing. He gets into position, and you follow, getting onto the bed and kneeling next to him. You press your hands to his lower back, making sure he knows you're there. You then lift a leg over him, so that you are straddling his hips, your butt resting on his butt.

“Is this okay, Love?” you ask him, wanting to make sure he's comfortable. He nods his head, finally understanding what you’re doing. You could have told him you were planning on giving him a massage, but you wanted it to be a surprise.

You reach over and grab the lotion off the nightstand, squeezing some into your hand. You work it over your hands, warming it up, then start on Copia’s neck. You gently but firmly press your hands into his skin, making sure your movements are slow. You dig your thumbs in just a little more in spots that are really tight, wanting to work Copia’s knotted muscles out fully.

You slowly move down his back and over his shoulder blades. Copia has closed his eyes now, and his breathing has evened out. You would think he was asleep if he wasn’t making noises every once in a while. It started with a soft whimper, barely a whisper past his lips, so quiet you thought you had imagined it. But soon, as you worked your hands down his back, his noises became more frequent. Some came out quieter than others, some came out as groans, others wimpers if it was a sour spot, and of course, the occasional moan. You smiled to yourself, taking these noises to mean you were doing a good job.

You worked your way down his lower back, then up to his shoulders and arms. You stayed quiet the entire time, wanting this to be as relaxing for him as possible. But eventually you ran out of places to message, and reluctantly stopped your movements. This got his attention. He picked up his head and turned to look at you, his eyes full of content and drowsiness.

“You are done, mia cara?” he asks over his shoulder.

“I am, Papa,” you confirm. He nods his head, and you move to un-straddle him, getting off the bed. You go and put the lotion back in your bathroom, and when you return, Copia is sitting on the edge of the bed. His shirt in his hand. You walk over to stand in front of him, taking his face in your hands, and admire how his eyes are now glittery with content, any trace of irritation or tiredness gone.

“That was lovely, grazi, mi amore.” he looks up at you, caressing the hand that is on his cheek. You give him a smile, then lean down to press a kiss to his lips. Your forehead presses against his, staying there even after the kiss ends, matching your breathing to his, and soaking up this moment. He pulls away first, clearing his throat.

“I do have a little bit of a problem though,” he states, which gives you a quizzical crease between your eyebrows. Before you can ask what the problem is, he stands, and that's when you see it. He’s hard. You press your hand to your mouth in an attempt to sequester your giggles, but it is no use. You look back up at his face, which is now covered with guilt, embarrassment, and a little bit of amusement.

“Do you want me to fix that for you?” you ask him, raising an eyebrow and giving him a cheeky smile. He looks at you, defeated, shaking his head. But a small smile dances across his lips.

“Mi dispiace, cara mia, it’s just that your hands were all over me and it felt so good and your hands were so warm and…” you cut him off with a kiss, silencing his ramblings.

“It’s alright, Love. You also weren’t the only one getting turned on. The noises you were making were quite something.” You state the truth. Both of you are blushing, sharing small touches, which turn into longer, more confident touches.

Looks like Copia will have to work on lyrics tomorrow.

#the band ghost #ghost the band #ghost #cardinal copia #papa emeritus iv #papa copia #ghost sweden #ghost fluff

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