#MARRIAGE WHEN

[ilukavee]

Fond Memories

(complete)

[faeskiss]

I’m halfway through the new audio and zaros is SOOOO IN LOVE with the earis and he doesn’t even realise it oh my god😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭

[maydaydiaz]

buckley-diaz has to be their wedded names because. their parents are awful people but let them rewrite the legacy of their names. let them look at every bill, every letter and credit card and be reminded of what they fought through. that you can have a husband and be man enough. you don’t have to change to still be loved, that you’re never too much for the right person. let them raise their children with those same names and give them everything their parents failed to give them

[peterm4rker]

i would like to formally invite yall to mine and @lyvhie s wedding bc I LOVE HER !!

[another-delta-lover]

Our marriage photo😏😏😏

if u were talking about the honeymoon i can't post it here 🤭🤭🤭🤭🤭🤭🤭🤭😘😘😘

[cr4shqueen]

I

pleaes.,., geeen day ring save me

[fortpeatdata]

Fort reacted to two of my comments on insta live!!!!!!!! I'm going to cut the clips soon T_____T

[illyrianbitch]

IM IN LOVE WITH YOU!!! THIS RESPONSE MAKES ME FEEL RENEWED!!!

az is fully understanding how terrifying girls girls can be when they’re standing in solidarity with each other like he’s on the OUTSIDEEE and rhys is just excited he’s not in trouble LMAOO, i just know he’s going to feyre at night and is like aren’t you glad i’m so good😋😋

IM SO HONORED YOU LOVE MY WORKS BBY

Are We Still Friends? — Part Two

Pairing: Reader x Azriel

Summary: You and Azriel are struggling with the aftermath of your heated argument. Unfortunately, you both cope in very different ways.

Warnings: angst! (with a side of some friendship fluff)

Word Count: 5.2k

Part One

✹ ✶ 𖧷 ✶✹ 

The room reeked of stale arrogance and cold stone— like it always did.

You could handle Keir alone. Azriel knew that. You did, too. But that didn’t make it easy. Az’s presence was enough to silence Keir’s snide remarks with a single look. Without him here, Keir was running his mouth like a common court gossip, his words dripping with the kind of entitlement that made your skin crawl.

He was droning on now, his voice a low hum in your ears like the buzzing of a persistent, uncatchable fly; rattling demands, complaints, thinly veiled insults. It was always like this.

You were barely listening. 

Your mind kept drifting to Az, to the conversation the night before. 

Your chest simmered with a new emotion every time you replayed it. Anger, disappointment, betrayal. You weren’t sure which stung more: his sharp tone, the way he’d dismissed you, or the bitter fact that you’d never had Azriel talk to you like that before.

Where was he now, anyway? What had Selene needed so urgently that he’d decided official court matters could wait? Somewhere far more comfortable than this gods-forsaken pit, you were sure.

“…and the resources we’re requesting are more than reasonable, given the sacrifices we’ve made to maintain this arrangement.”

Keir’s voice sliced through your spiraling thoughts, slick, self-satisfied, and grating. He had quite the punchable features, you observed. How had he lasted this long without a good deck to the face?

“If Rhysand truly values his court,” Keir continued, a mocking edge creeping into his tone, “and not just his little city, then perhaps he should send someone who understands the importance of negotiation.”

Your mind jumped again—to Azriel, to the way he’d looked at you like you were the one who’d crossed the line. You couldn’t figure out where you’d gone wrong. Was it the mention of Elain? That small, stillness you’d felt in him? You hadn’t intended it to be a jab, hadn’t meant to make him feel guilty. You were concerned. Your approach was good-natured. Or, at least you’d thought so. 

Keir’s voice drifted in and out of focus as you stared at him, boredom spreading through you, a dull throb in your chest. You were ready to leave. Ready to escape the suffocating air of the room. You were annoyed at yourself, too, if you were being honest. Here you were, seething, ungrounded in a way you rarely allowed yourself to be, simply because of a five-minute argument. A spat. 

Usually, during these meetings, Azriel helped you regulate your dislike for Keir. When the male’s mere existence stirred memories of his cruelty to Mor, Azriel’s presence would be a steadying hand at the small of your back, a quiet reminder to keep your temper in check.

But he wasn’t there. And your thoughts were all over the place. And Keir only wanted to talk to Azriel—why did everyone need him so suddenly?

“Your attempts at diplomacy are largely symbolic. A pretty face to soften the High Lord’s more… aggressive tactics. And, well, without the Spymaster— ”

Something snapped inside you. That diplomatic part of you, the skills you’d fought tooth and nail for, had perfected over centuries, crumbled completely.

“Shut up!”

The words hit the room like a thunderclap. The two males beside him stiffened, their hands twitching toward their weapons.

“For the love of the Mother,” you said through gritted teeth, “Shut. Up.” 

Keir’s eyes widened, his mouth hanging open for a fraction of a second before he recovered, his features twisting with irritation— with offense, with shock. “Excuse me, girl?���

You stood slowly, your chair scraping loudly against the stone floor. You knew you should grimace, should feel some pang of guilt for letting your temper get the better of you. This wasn’t what you were here to do. This wasn’t how you tended to be.

But you didn’t care.

You were tired, irritated, and in desperate need of a drink, a joint, or someone to hit in the face.

“Do you ever tire of hearing yourself speak?” you said, gesturing sharply with your hands. “Or do you enjoy the sound of your own idiocy too much to notice how pathetic you sound?”

Keir’s eyes narrowed, his smirk returning, like he enjoyed your bite. Found a worthy opponent, even. “Careful,” he said, his voice low, threatening. “You’re out of line.”

You resisted the urge to roll your eyes. You’d give Mor a tight hug this week, praise her once more for being able to survive seventeen years under the suffocating arrogance of a male like Keir.

“Oh, I’m just getting started,” you snapped. “You are not some untouchable ruler. You leech off the power Rhysand allows you to have. Do not forget that.”

Keir’s jaw tightened, his knuckles white where they gripped the arms of his chair. One of his soldiers shifted slightly, his hand brushing the hilt of his sword. You turned your glare on him.

“Try it,” you said coldly. “I dare you. Lay a hand on me, and you’ll find out just how thin your leash really is. Do you think Rhysand wouldn’t love an excuse to raze this pathetic little agreement to the ground? You think Morrigan wouldn’t personally take that sword and shove it somewhere creative? Trust me, they’re looking for an excuse.”

Keir inhaled sharply as he stood slowly, placing his palms on the table before him and leaning forward with a snarl. The gleam in his eyes was predatory, animalistic. “Are you threatening me?”

“Yes.” You mirrored him, placing your palms on the table and leaning forward, still holding his gaze tight.  “Would you like to see if I’m bluffing?”

Silence blanketed the room as Keir stared at you. You could see it in his eyes—the horror of recognizing that you might actually be his equal. Or worse, his superior. He was struggling with how to approach the situation, how to balance his newfound realization with the need to maintain authority in front of his males.

After a long moment, Keir shifted his gaze to his men and motioned for them to stand down. Their hands dropped, spines stiffening like statues at his sides.

You took the silence as your answer.

“That might be the smartest move you’ve ever made,” you said with an amused hum. Straightening, you brushed your hands off and smiled. “The Spymaster will be back next week to negotiate terms about resources. Pray he’s in a better mood than I am.”

A sense of satisfaction bloomed in your chest as you turned to leave. It felt good to finally tell him off—Lord knew it had been coming for centuries. You’d been biting it back at every meeting, every forced smile, every empty negotiation. It had been far more tame than you’d liked, but it was something, at least. A small victory. 

The relief washed over you for a fleeting moment before it began to slip away, replaced by that familiar unease, the stirring of anger still simmering beneath the surface.

You knew why.

Keir wasn’t the male you were truly mad at. 

At least, not in the way that made your heart ache. 

✹ ✶ 𖧷 ✶✹ 

You’d barely gotten out of the bath and dressed when there was a soft knock at your door. You let out a deep sigh, running your hands along your face before walking into the bedroom proper, feeling the slight chill of the air against your still-damp skin.

The thought of Azriel hit you almost instantly, your body tensing at the possibility. After all, it was just the two of you living in the townhome, and it was late—no one else was expected. As much as part of you wanted to see him—to curse him out, maybe, or pull an apology from him, you weren’t sure—a bigger part of you just wanted to sit alone. To wallow in the strange self-pity that had bloomed in your stomach since the meeting with Keir.

“Go away, Azriel. I don’t want to t-”

Your gaze landed on Mor instead. She stood in the doorway, hands behind her back, a small smile on her lips.

“Good thing I’m not Azriel,” she said, stepping forward. Her familiar perfume drifted through the room. “I’m much more attractive.”

You stifled a laugh despite yourself, the corners of your mouth tugging into a reluctant smile. Mor had always been infuriatingly good at that—chipping away at your mood, no matter how sour. Tonight, she looked less mischievous than usual, wearing a simpler gown—still stunning, but more comfortable.

“What are you doing here?”

Mor’s presence instantly lightened the weight on your chest, even just slightly, but a glimmer of disappointment sparkled in your chest, threaded through your ribs and refused to leave. Part of you had hoped it was Azriel at your door. Even if you’d have sent him away with biting remarks, at least he would’ve tried. At least he would’ve been there.

“I heard through the grapevine that there was a messy meeting in the Hewn City.”

Your stomach twisted. Shit. Keir had worked much faster than you’d thought. You wondered, briefly, how long it had taken for him to go run and complain— had he waited an hour? Perhaps two?

You grimaced, offering a sheepish smile. “Oh, right. That,” you drawled. “Is Rhys mad?”

“Not at you,” she replied. “He’s mad he missed it. I am, too.”

A grin tugged at her lips, and it wasn’t long before identical ones broke across both of your faces. You looked down, scuffing the carpet with your toe. “I don’t know what got into me.”

Mor snorted. “My father got into you.”

You looked up and raised a brow. She shot you an unimpressed look, the kind that would usually mean you were inconveniencing her with your childish humor. But there was amusement in her eyes, glinting like sunlight on glass. She wanted to laugh.

“You know what I meant,” Mor grumbled, lips twitching again. “Keir tends to bring out the worst in everyone.”

You nodded at that, tucking a loose stand of hair behind your ear. “I know I tell you this all the time,” you said, “But gods am I sorry you had to grow up with him.”

Mo shrugged, waving it off with a dismissive hand. The other stayed behind her back. “Character development and all that,” she said breezily. “Anyway, I have something for you.”

“If it’s wine, I think I’ll pass.”

She shook her head and brought her hand around, revealing a small to-go box. It was unmistakable—the kind used by your favorite bakery, all the way in the Day Court. 

“Ta-da,” she sang.

Your chest warmed at the sight. Slowly, you took the offering, running your fingers along the box’s edges. When you looked back at her, she was watching you with a tender smile—the kind only Morrigan could give. It wasn’t the playful smirk or sharp grin she wore for the world. 

“What's this for?”

Mor tilted her head. “You’ve had a rough twenty-four hours. I thought you could use some comfort treats. And company.”

Your heart swelled. You’d told her and Elain little of the fight with Azriel when they’d sought you out, pacing outside your door until they decided you were ready. Elain had apologized profusely, saying she hadn’t meant to spark the argument when she suggested you talk to him. You’d assured her there was no apology needed—not from her, at least. She’d only sped up the inevitable: the realization that Azriel didn’t seem to value your opinion the way you so often valued his.

Mor wrapped an arm around your shoulders, leaning in to whisper conspiratorially. “I also did bring wine. It’s downstairs. We can sit, talk—and if Azriel comes home, I’ll make sure he doesn’t hear us. Or see us.”

You let Mor guide you downstairs, where she opened a bottle of wine and drew you into a conversation—a deliberate distraction about her and Emerie, about apartment hunting and her attempts at civility with Nesta. You listened as best as you could, grateful for the reprieve, and even forced yourself to savor the dessert she’d brought.

It was as good as you remembered. That was something, at least. Azriel hadn’t managed to ruin that, despite the bitter taste your argument had left behind.

Mor waited about half an hour before gently steering the conversation where she really wanted it to go: what happened with you and Az, how you were feeling.

The problem was, you couldn’t quite put your finger on why you were so upset. You told Mor the things you knew for certain: that it was unfair for Azriel to assume he knew what you were going to say, that he hadn’t given you—his best friend for centuries—a chance to speak or express your concern. That he hadn’t trusted you enough to even hear you out. Mor nodded along, agreeing that Azriel had been out of line, that it was unlike him to take someone else’s word over yours so easily.

But even as she agreed with you, it didn’t ease the pressure in your chest. It wasn’t just about him being unfair or dismissive. There was something deeper, something you hadn’t yet figured out how to say. Something else about it that bothered you so deeply. 

Maybe it was the way he’d so easily twisted your intentions, the way he’d looked at you as if you were an inconvenience, made you feel like every word you’d spoken had been some elaborate ruse. Like your concern wasn’t genuine. Like the years you’d spent knowing him, understanding him, recognizing the subtle shifts in his behavior, didn’t matter at all. You were just finding a convenient excuse to meddle, to dig your claws into his relationship, sabotage what he had so you could steal him away in the middle of the night. 

It was possible you were being a little overdramatic. And you’d definitely emphasized his words in your retelling to Mor, but it didn’t change the intent. What he’d said. What he’d believed. To imply that after everything, you couldn’t be a good friend to him. That you couldn’t care without an ulterior motive.

He hadn’t even tried to talk to you since. Not a word, not a glance. You tried to reason with yourself—it had only been a day. Maybe he needed time to cool off, to think. Maybe he was as confused as you were, unsure of how things had spiraled so fast. Maybe this silence was just him giving you space.

But a part of you didn’t think that was true. There was a possibility that his silence wasn’t for your sake—it was for his. Because he didn’t think he owed you anything.

That thought was the worst of all.  That he didn’t even care.

And you were furious, too, that Azriel had tipped you so completely off balance, that these feelings had bled into your lashing out at Keir. The memory of it was already clawing at you, leaving a faint sting of embarrassment. You knew it would follow you like a stray dog, nipping at your heels. You’d gotten emotional. You—the Night Court’s ever-diplomatic emissary—had been anything but.

You were certain you’d care more about it in a few days, when you had the energy to think clearly.

“Y/n?”

You blinked, startled out of your daze, suddenly aware of how tightly your fingers had curled around the small fork in your hand.

“Hm?”

Mor gave you a sympathetic smile. “I think you should get some rest,” she said, crouching down in front of you.

You hadn’t realized you’d ended up on the floor, leaning against the table—a habit you fell into when you were upset, like grounding yourself by sinking as close to the earth as possible. Mor extended a hand, helping you up with that steady, no-nonsense kind of care only she could offer.

She started tidying up without asking, brushing away crumbs and organizing the small mess you’d both made. Her eyes flicked to the pastry box on the table. “Are you gonna finish this? Or do you want me to toss it?”

You glanced down, confused, at the small leftover piece in the box. That was strange. You usually devoured these, barely leaving crumbs, let alone a full bite. For a moment, you thought nothing of it.

And then it clicked. It was instinct, an old habit of sorts—leaving a bite for Azriel to try.

You bit back a disappointed sigh. What had once been second nature, something you did without thinking, now felt deeply embarrassing. Sickening. Too intimate, like a little girl with a crush.

“Toss it,” you said quickly, your voice tight, sharper than intended.

Mor didn’t comment, simply folded the box closed and tossed it into the trash. Before she left, she pulled you into a hug, warm and unhurried.

“It’s okay to focus on the anger right now,” she murmured into your hair. “If nothing else makes sense, you’re entitled to it. I think you’re a few centuries overdue.”

You let out a short, dry laugh. “Yeah,” you replied, the word heavy on your tongue. “I think I have a few more remarks left in me.”

Mor grinned as she stepped back, smoothing her hands over your arms before heading for the door. “Atta girl. Make him miserable.”

You lingered on her words as you climbed the stairs.

A grudge sounded great. It sounded righteous. It sounded like something you could do—at least for now, until your feelings settled.

Lucien really was better than you. He’d endured so much, and somehow, he still found room for forgiveness, a way to let Azriel off the hook.

But you didn’t want to let this go. Not yet.

You’d given Azriel centuries of friendship, of loyalty and unwavering support, and he hadn’t even deemed you worthy of the benefit of the doubt. Maybe later, you could be like Lucien, could forgive Azriel for his shortcomings and his idiocy.

Not tonight.

You curled up in bed, willing yourself to embrace the cold, sharp edges of your anger. But, despite your best efforts, that wasn’t what stayed.

The sadness did.

✹ ✶ 𖧷 ✶✹ 

Azriel didn’t apologize. 

Not verbally, at least. It was a habit born in the aftermath of the first war, when he’d been forced to reckon with who he’d become, the things he’d done as Spymaster.

He’d learned quickly that some things were too heavy to face, too raw to acknowledge. Easier to tuck them away, seal them behind his silence. Apologies came with a price he couldn’t play. Because if he started apologizing for those things—acts born of desperation, of blind obedience to a High Lord who demanded it—he’d never stop. He’d be drowning in it for centuries.

So he didn’t. He wouldn’t. And if he refused to apologize for the horrors of his past—if the shame and pain of it were too much—then he had to be consistent. If he didn’t do it then, he couldn’t do it now. Not even for the people he loved.

Instead, he accepted the damage he caused. Accepted that he’d make mistakes. That he’d hurt people.

He stored those moments away in the ever-growing, aching place inside him that proved how unlovable he was—how destined he was to hurt the people he cared for most. How inevitable his failures were.

On the worst days, when the silence felt unbearable, he’d reach for those memories, let them remind him of who he truly was. He’d sit with them, twist them into hatred—at himself, at his failure, at the fact he couldn’t change it. He could never seem to stop.

But Azriel loved his family. He truly did. He’d die for them. He’d commit every horrible act over and over if that was what was needed to ensure their safety. So he usually found other ways to apologize.

This time, though, Azriel felt… embarrassed. Ashamed, even. Humiliated. He’d acted like a child, reckless and unthinking, had been dismissive of someone he loved.

He valued the females in his life, respected them deeply. And usually, for them, he could set aside his twisted need to avoid apologies. Instantly.

You and him had argued before—fought, even. It was bound to happen over centuries. But it had never been like this. This felt different. Everyone knew.

He wanted to apologize the night it happened. But he couldn’t. He’d gone too far. He told himself that his apology needed to be big enough to make up for it. 

All week, the memory looped in his mind, relentless and punishing. The second the accusation left his lips, regret had consumed him—an instant, choking thing. Even his shadows had recoiled, letting out a sound that might’ve been a gasp. But the worst part, the part that kept him up at night, was your face.

Your features had twisted into something he’d never seen before. Not in all the centuries you’d been by his side. Something like offense. Or maybe, Azriel thought bitterly, something worse. He’d convinced himself it was disgust. Pure, unfiltered disgust.

It bothered him more than he cared to admit.

Azriel was used to people being upset with him. It came with the territory—his silence, his sharp edges, the anger he carried like armor. He could be difficult; he knew that. Could be impulsive, cold, quick to anger. Over centuries, he’d learned to live with it, to endure the way disappointment settled in others’ eyes when he pushed too far.  But it never suffocated him like this.

He had disappointed you. You were angry, disgusted by the accusation he'd thrown your way—why had he done that?

Selene's words lingered in his mind, over and over, such meaningless, small words. They’d burrowed themselves deep, driven him borderline mad. He couldn’t figure out why.

It made him itch, made him unsettled in a way that didn’t make sense. He had assumed that itch meant the words bothered him—something about them, something he couldn't quite grasp—and that had gotten under his skin, gnawing at him.

He’d been avoiding you since that night.  It was easy, despite the fact that you were the only two in the house. After all, you had been avoiding him too.

He was being a coward. He knew it. Avoiding you when he knew damn well he needed to find you, get you alone, and apologize. Profusely. Repeat it until there was some hope of undoing the damage. But avoidance was easier. Safer.

It was what he was best at.

The thought of apologizing only for you to turn him away, for you to look at him with disgust, with anger, was more than he could stomach. And he'd convinced himself that that was the most likely scenario—and it would be valid. Completely, utterly valid.

So, he did what he did best: he retreated into himself. Into Selene.

But a few days had passed, and now the ache in Azriel’s chest was gaping. Raw. Unbearable. He couldn’t breathe.

The guilt had started before the sun rose, creeping up Azriel’s spine as he pulled away from Selene’s warm embrace. She’d stirred when he slipped out of bed, her lips parted to protest, but he hadn’t stayed to hear her argument. It wasn’t comfortable—none of it. Not the weight in his chest, not the way his shadows murmured disapproval like a broken melody on repeat.

He needed to be here—at family brunch. He wanted to be here. And for the first time in days, his shadows seemed content with a decision he’d made. Thank the gods for that.

The house was full by time he arrived. He didn’t need his shadows to tell him. He could hear their laughter from the doorway, could smell the pull of a sweet feast. Rhysand was the first to notice his presence, a faint smirk tugging at his lips as he leaned back in his chair. 

“Look who decided to join after all.”

Az didn’t reply, not in the way he usually did. Instead, his gaze immediately found you, his breath stalling as he caught the subtle stiffening of your shoulders. You didn’t turn. You didn’t so much as glance back.

Mor, seated beside you, did. Her brown eyes flitted from you to him, a semi-scowl in her expression as she turned her gaze to Emerie on her left, dismissing Azriel entirely.

Another person he’d probably have to apologize to.

Az swallowed, his shadows tugging at him like restless children, desperate to curl around you, to offer something—comfort, perhaps, or a plea for forgiveness he hadn’t yet put into words. But you still didn’t move.

Clearing his throat, Azriel finally said, “I’m sorry I’m late.” 

It was Feyre who responded, casting a quick glance towards you before offering Azriel a smile. “No worries, Az. We’re glad you’re here.”

That was a lie. But the chatter began once more, anyways. 

Az moved forward, gaze flicking to the one empty chair at the table— the chair beside you. Just as he reached for it, your head snapped up, eyes meeting his for the first time in days. 

“Are you sure you want to sit there?”

Azriel froze. “What?”

You tilted your head at him, eyes narrowing in a way he hadn’t quite seen before—a look that was, if he was being honest, downright unnerving. But then, just as quickly, the emotion fell away, replaced by something sharper, crueler, and laced with exaggerated concern. “What if I’m overcome with lust and expose myself to you?”

From across the table, Cassian choked violently on his drink, Nesta muttering something under her breath as she thumped his back.

Azriel closed his eyes for a brief second, forcing a steady inhale before lowering himself into the chair anyway. He could feel his shadows retreating reluctantly, curling tighter against him, sharing his discomfort. Only when the conversation resumed once more did Az lean closer to you, dropping his voice low enough for only you to hear.

“Can we talk?”

“I don’t know, can we? Did Selene give you permission?”

Azriel clenched his jaw, willing himself to take another deep inhale. Before he could pull a response, your face shifted into something exaggerated, all false excitement and mock sweetness. “Don’t tell me I’m being considered as your third? Oh gods. Should I throw myself at you now, or—?”

“Y/n, come on,” Az murmured, his voice tight— pleading. “Please.”

For a beat, Azriel thought you were mulling it over, almost expected to see your face soften like he was used to. But it didn’t. 

 “Rhys,” you said, your voice carrying as you turned to the High Lord. “Would you like to tell Azriel what to expect during his meeting with Keir next week? He’d like to know.”

Az’s stomach twisted at the sound of his name—not Az, but Azriel. Cold. Formal. Foreign. He hated the way it sounded coming from you, devoid of the warmth or familiarity he’d always taken for granted, like he was a stranger. Had he truly made you that angry in the span of a few minutes? 

This, Az thought bitterly, was why he opted to never speak unless it was needed.

Rhys nodded, though his gaze flickered between you and Azriel with something like caution. Before Azriel could protest, or even try to get another word in, you turned to Mor, engaging her in conversation as if the exchange hadn’t happened at all.

The rest of the meal passed in a strange limbo. It wasn’t hostile—if anything, it felt painfully normal. Conversations swirled around the table. Laughter floated between bites of food— and his shadows had danced whenever the sound of yours had reached them.

Azriel was willing to admit that, with the situation aside, he’d missed this—missed his family. The time spent with Selene lately had only highlighted how much he craved the sense of home that these moments brought. And yet, he couldn’t bring himself to apologize for his absence.

He’d been nervous to disrupt what he and Selene had, even if “alright” was the only word he could muster to describe it. It wasn’t perfect—it wasn’t love—but it was... something. It could develop into something. Right?

But as good as the meal could’ve been, your silence weighed on him like a stone. You ignored him completely. No more snark, no insults, not even a glance. It got to the point where he wanted a petty remark, wanted you to look at him and tell him exactly how stupid he’d been. Usually, you were vocal when you were angry. Confrontational. He’d seen it over centuries, the way your fury blazed as brightly as you. You didn’t let things stew. You didn’t let him stew.

Why were you so quiet now? Why weren’t you yelling at him, demanding answers, or throwing his mistakes back at him like daggers?

Why had you accepted him—and his stupidity—with the same quiet resignation as that night?

It was worse. It was so much worse. Your anger felt different with him. And he hated it.

When the meal ended, Azriel stayed seated, watching as the others began to leave. He watched as you leaned down to Nyx, your hand brushing the baby’s cheek with such tender care it made his chest ache. Feyre’s expression softened at the sight, and you smiled at her and Rhys, thanking them for the meal before leaving with Mor, Emerie, Cassian, and Nesta.

None of the females spared him a glance. Cassian offered him a small, apologetic smile. He wasn’t sure if that made it better or worse.

Thank the gods Amren wasn’t here. Small blessings, Az supposed.

He sighed, clearing his plate and bringing it to the kitchen. He rinsed it, the sound of water doing nothing to drown out the weight in his chest, and when he turned to leave, Rhys was there, Nyx balanced on one arm.

“Good luck, brother,” Rhys said. Az didn’t bother asking what he meant. He already knew.

The wistful, pitying smile Rhys wore was infuriating. The amused gleam in his violet eyes was worse. Rhys looked almost... grateful, as if relieved it wasn’t his head on the chopping block.

“A fight with the one member of our family collectively loved by everyone else,” Rhys mused, shaking his head. “Phew. You’ve made an enemy of a pack of vicious, beautiful wolves.”

Azriel’s jaw tightened, but before he could respond, Rhys shifted his attention to Nyx.

“Can you say, ‘Uncle Az is screwed?’” He cooed. Nyx babbled nonsensically, waving a tiny fist, and Rhys grinned. “Yeah, he’s gonna have to grovel, huh?”

Azriel glared, his shadows bristling as he brushed past him with an unamused glare. Rhys’s laughter followed him down the hall.

Must grovel, his shadows repeated, Grovel. Apologize. Admit.

Whatever the hell that meant.

✹ ✶ 𖧷 ✶✹ 

authors note:

me trying to write reader and getting sad that shes lowkey gaslighting herself and downplaying her emotions bc she cares about az: ☹️

me writing az as someone who just accepts he hurts people and doesnt realize he can like...just apologize: 😒

me knowing this angst is gonna be so fun:🥰

anyways thank you for reading!! i've already written a lot more, so expect 2-3 more parts! <3 (i have their makeup written😏) every comment or ask yall leave gets me so inspired

but until then... how long do yall think its gonna take for them to talk? tehehe

permanent tag list 🫶🏻: 

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

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

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

@starswholistenanddreamsanswered @feyretopia  @ninthcircleofprythian @velariscalling @azrielrot

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

@melissat1254 @secretsicanthideanymore @m4tthewmurd0ck @beardburnsupersoldiers @isnotwhatyourethinking

@tothestarsandwhateverend @raginghellfire @angel-graces-world-of-chaos @acoazlove @paradisebabey

@inkedinshadows @mellowmusings @paankhaleyaaar @curiosandcourioser @thisrandombitch

azriel tag list 🫶🏻:

@thisiskaylin @serrendiipty @acourtofsteelandthunder @mortqlprojections @ushijima-stits

@honethatty12 @chillymountsjess @velaris-avatar-formula1 @idkitsem @kazbrkker

[lovesexdhokha]

mother slay the ground down

you are downbad

[ash-and-starlight]

taking the crumbs of venetian agna qel’a chewing biting gnashing on them until there aren’t even bones left and then spitting out. carnevale northern water tribe style

[simonbrain]

love the idea of reader just trying to fuck all her stress out with a random at the bar before returning back to her mundane life, and simon deciding he's going to keep her instead 🙂‍↕️

the prick doesn't budge when you try to kick him out; instead, he drags you back into bed and works his mouth to loosen you up again, and now you've forgotten why you were trying to haul his ass out of your home.

(you attempted to sound stern while telling him to get out of your house, but he merely chuckled, the sound so raspy and condescending that it stroked a heat within you that you thought was sated last night.

"this is our home. now get your arse back in bed, i'm fuckin' hungry.")

you had to really fist at his hair to pull him off of you, and that only turned him on if the deep groan rumbling out of him was anything to go by—you swear his tongue sunk deeper inside you. he only relented so he could fuck you dumb in the shower after, leaving you with trembling legs and feeling more dirty than clean (atta girl, don't you waste any of tha'—keep it all in).

you blink, and now suddenly you're seated as he spoon-feeds you a nice, hearty breakfast, huffing something like messy girl when toast crumbs get all over your face and the wooden table.

words can't express how flustered you are; you're too stunned to even continue telling the big man who's now feeding you scrambled eggs that he needs to leave. all you feel like you're capable of doing is opening your mouth to accept another spoonful, ignoring the ache you feel between your thighs when you catch his heavy stare and hear a low hum of approval.

then he's leaving (and it's not because of your nagging), muttering something about having to work those mutts to the bone today, all while you're trying to make sense of what's happening. he gives you a sloppy kiss to silence your questions and exasperation, one that makes you feel hot all over and almost melt into a puddle had it not been for the firm grip he had on your ass.

he licks his lips when he pulls back, eyes darting to where your shirt just barely covers where he'd rather be all day than having to go and train recruits. he stares for an uncomfortably long time and before you can speak up, face growing a little hot from the tension, he's turning around to finally leave.

before the door shuts, he says, "be a good girl, ay? see you tonight, birdie."

you're left with your thoughts and feelings of dread and anxiety. there definitely isn't any underlying interest or anything; the freak has fucked your brain out of your head, that's all. you're sure he didn't even mean it anyway. maybe. hopefully.

a drop of his come rolls down your thigh, and arousal shame burns through you. since when did you let one-night stands finish in you?

(your so-called one-night stand came home hungry and pissed, so worked up that he dragged you over to the nearest surface and played with you for a good hour. by the time you had half the mind to tell him about the dinner in the oven—your eyes nearly bulged out of their sockets at how much money he had sent you for groceries earlier, nevermind how he got ahold of your account details—he grunted and finally gave your poor pussy a break, scarred mug all slick and flushed.)

good luck when he takes you to meet his mates at the bar a week later, the same bar you brought him home from; the comments from them make you wish a hole in the ground would just swallow you right up.

"pretty thing ye caught, lt," johnny grins, a mischievous gleam in his eyes. he's a bit over the top, ogles your chest too hard, but overall he's... alright. you'd probably notice how perverted he really was if you actually looked at him longer than a few fleeting glances, but his stare is kind of unnerving.

kyle—perfection personified—hums in agreement, a warm smile on his face that puts you at ease. somehow you don't pick up on the ulterior motive behind his gaze running over your body, eyes roaming over your chest more discreetly than johnny but just as appreciative. "pretty indeed. you don't mind sharing, do you ghost?" kyle teases, pretty eyes glancing over at simon, who only huffs at that and shakes his head (much to your confusion).

who the fuck is ghost? you only know big guy and simon.

there's a deep chuckle and your focus flits over to the man seated in front of you, captain john price. if you thought simon was scary, john's a man who demands respect and attention just by being in his presence. "you chose the wrong dog to bring home," john hums, voice deep and gravelly and making you shamefully squeeze your thighs together.

"but that's alright, sweetheart. you have three others now, yeah?" the purr that comes out of his mouth is sinful, and when you nod and stammer out a yes, sir as if you were one of his soldiers and not the sweet girl that simon has brought to his captain, looking for approval of his newest toy, he only smiles.

simon's hand squeezes your thigh underneath the table, trailing upwards, and you're slowly understanding what it is that you've gotten yourself into.

[ebodebo]

OMG THANK U FOR INCLUDING ME AHHHH UR SO FUCKING SWEET ILY PLZ READ THE OTHER FICS ON THIS LIST THEY ARE SOO YUMMY‼️‼️🫦

hello fellow reader!! my name is Mor, and this is my beautiful blog!!

this blog is just straight horny…

and I reblog shit I like!

MINORS DNI (18+)

NO AI IS ALLOWED. ALL REBLOGS/POSTS BELOW BELONG TO THEIR RIGHTFUL WRITERS/OWNERS. AI USE IS THIEVERY.

fav fics/drabbles recos: (IN PROGRESS)

Smut Levels (💚/💛/❤️‍🔥)

Call of Duty

“Bone Deep” by @the-californicationist

Pairing: John Price & Fem!Reader

Tags: Angst, Hurt/Comfort, Happy Ending, Married Life

Smut Level: 💛

Personal Notes: The writing style is sooooo well done, angst was top tier, groveling from Price was also very top tier.

Any Fic by @ceilidho

Pairings: Price & Fem!Reader, Ghost & Fem!Reader, Soap & Fem!Reader, Ghoap & Fem!Reader, Ghost & Soap

Smut Level: ❤️‍🔥

Personal Notes: I’ve linked their master list above because all of their fics ARE SO FUCKING GOOD. Oh my god. I cannot tell you how many times I’ve reread some of them.

“Permission” by @bi-writes

Pairing: Ghoap & Fem!Reader

Tags: Dark Fic, Power Dynamic (D/S/S), Possessiveness (kinda?)

Smut Level: ❤️‍🔥

Personal Notes: This thread had me BARKING. That’s all I have to say, anyways…

Any Fic by @charliemwrites

Pairings: TF141 & Fem!Reader/GN!Reader, Nikto & Fem!Reader

Smut Level: ❤️‍🔥

Personal Notes: Another one of my all time fav writers!! I linked their master list because everything is so FUCKING GOOD. I reread their fics all the time!!

Any Fic by @makoodles

Pairings: Gaz & Fem!Reader, Price & Fem!Reader, Ghost & Fem!Reader, Avatar & Fem!Reader

Smut Level: ❤️‍🔥

Personal Notes: You want plot? Done. Angst? Done. One of the best fucking writing styles ever? DONE. Oh my god. I’ve linked the whole master list because Jesus Christ. I would recommend starting off with this…you’ll understand why, (I was frothing at the mouth).

Any Fic by @kneelingshadowsalome

Pairings: Ghost & Fem!Reader, König & Fem!Reader, Price & Fem!Reader

Smut Level: ❤️‍🔥

Personal Notes: Some of the most well written fics I have ever read on here, all of them deserve a looking at! Please pay attention to the warnings posted, some of them cover dark topics!!

“Tired” by @cordeliawhohung

Pairing: Pornstar!Gaz & Pornstar!Reader (Fem)

Tags: Comfort, Exhausted Reader, Faked Orgasm, Blossoming Relationship

Smut: 💚

Personal Notes: So cute and fluffy. Def a pick-me-up read!!

“Apocalypse” by @bi-writes

Pairing: Ghoap & Fem!Reader

Tags: DARK FIC. Attempted SA. Please read tags!!

Smut: ❤️‍🔥

Personal Notes: Literal fucking poetry. Nitty Gritty. 10/10 as always.

“Double Date” by @shotmrmiller

Pairing: Ghost & Fem!Reader

Tags: Good sex. Slight Dubcon?? (in the beginning, but don’t worry girl, they’re both def into it 🤭)

Smut: ❤️‍🔥

Personal Notes: Literal drool seeping from my mouth hole. That’s all.

“What Binds Us” by @imperihoe-writes

Pairing: Soap & Fem!Reader

Tags: Divorce. Angsty Angst. Happy ending.

No smut!!

Personal Notes: Kid you not, I’ve reread this work of art three times. It’s so good if you’re craving some angst and a pick me up!! Such a good read!!

“Trouble in Paradise” by @groguspicklejar

Pairing: RegencyEra!Ghost & Fem!Reader

Tags: Angsty Angst, Arranged Marriage, Emotional Neglect, Simon is a dickhead at first…(but everyone can learn from their mistakes 😌)

Smut: 💚 (brief, and not enjoyed on either side — martial duty thing)

Personal Notes: FINGER. LICKING. GOOD. Call me KFC cause I’m about eat this SHIT UP. But on a real note, so excited for this fic!! I just know it’s about to be DELECTABLE.

“Wherever You Go, I Shall Follow” by @heavenbarnes

Pairing: OlderBf!Ghost & Fem!Reader

Tags: Fluff, Domestic Life

No smut.

Personal Notes: So well written and so fucking cute!! I reread this twice in one sitting, and it’s so cute to think that he’d follow you around everywhere in yalls home. Super cute and def recommend!!

“Simple Math” by @peachesofteal

Pairing: Ghoap & Fem!Reader

Tags: MENTIONS OF PREVIOUS DOMESTIC ABUSE. Hurt/Comfort. So much Positive Reinforcement I could get a toothache from how sweet and gentle this fic is. PTSD. Panic Attacks. Angst. Fluff (There are tags on each chapter, please read them.)

Smut: ❤️‍🔥

Personal Notes: Absolutely fucking amazing. The writing is SO well done and formatted, the world building, the relationship building — all of it is top-fucking-tier. I HIGHLY recommend this chaptered fic if you (1) need a good, long read, and (2) want some fluff and angst. Words cannot truly describe just how RICH this fic is.

“Soap Soulmate AU” by @all-purpose-dish-soap

Pairing: Soap & Fem!ShadowReader

Tags: Angst, Interrogation, Meanish!141, Reader is a Shadow

Smut: 💚 (so far)

Personal Notes: Girlllllllllll — this shit is fire. The pining?? Deadass has me in a chokehold. God bless.

“A Helping Hand” by @void-my-warranty

Pairing: Ghost & Fem!Reader & Soap

Tags: Established Relationship (Ghost & Reader), Voyeurism, Ghost asks Johnny to help his gf cum

Smut: ❤️‍🔥

Personal Notes: I’m a slut for a good relationship that involves great communication and soooo much affection. Absolutely love the premise of this fic, and I can’t wait for more!!

“Cool Girl” by @peachesofteal

Pairing: Ghoap & Fem!Reader

Tags: ANGST, Hurt/No Comfort, Meanish Soap and Ghost (for now, them bitches better grovel), [UPDATE] SIMON WTF

Smut: ❤️‍🔥

Personal Notes: Anytime you read a fic by @peachesofteal, you already KNOW it’s about to be fucking great. Can’t wait for the updates!!

“The Nanny” by @moondirti

Pairing: Ghoap & Fem!Reader

Tags: Established Relationship, A Tiny Human, Reader is a Nanny, Voyuerism

Smut: ❤️‍🔥

Personal Notes: Homegirl has these boys fIENDINNGGGGG — like?? As you should. The second parts ending made me audibly gasp, can’t wait for the updates!!

“That Man is a Dog” by @luvit

Pairing: TF141 & Fem!Reader/GN!Reader

Tags: TF141 are dog shifters, #no I don’t support bestiality and this is not that, Reader is a Trainer

Smut: ❤️‍🔥

Personal Notes: The writing is so fucking good, smut is mouth-watering — girl just read this damn fic. So excited for more updates!!

Any Fic by @391780

Pairings: TF141 & Fem!Reader, Nikto & Fem!Reader, Kate Laswell & Fem!Reader, Nikolai & Fem!Reader

Tags: DEAD DOVE DO NOT EAT — please read each fic’s respective warnings, some of them cover very dark topics.

Smut: ❤️‍🔥

Personal Notes: I’ve been spamming the fucking reblog button girl. All of their fics are so well written, the character building and scene building are literally fucking insane. Not to mention the smut?? Girl?? My vibrator is about to say deuces, grow legs, and leave my horny ass alone in my bedroom.

“Feast” by @ceilidho

Pairing: Ghost & Fem!Reader

Tags: Ghost is a construction worker and really fucking unhinged, Reader is an elementary school teacher and is unhinged as well, god-tier smut, I’m a slut for a good cunnilingus scene

Smut: ❤️‍🔥

Personal Notes: Jesus-fucking-Christ you’ve done it again. Good lord. This is just so filthy and desperate and I’m SO here for it.

“Bury Me Beneath the Basswood Tree” by @vanderilnde

Pairing: Ghoap & Fem!Reader

Tags: DEAD DOVE DO NOT EAT, please check their tags.

Smut: ❤️‍🔥

Personal Notes: Literally so well written?? Hello?? And the smut?? Oh my god?? Girl I ate this shit up, no crumbs left. CLEAN FUCKING PLATE.

“Fields of Elation” by @charliemwrites

Pairing: Captain John MacTavish & Fem!Reader

Tags: Persephone/Hades Dupeeeee (funny reference, laugh pls), toe curling smut, fated soulmates

Smut: ❤️‍🔥

Personal Notes: IVE BEEN WAITING FOR THIS ONE — TURN IT UP!!! Love love LOVE the premise of this!!! So excited for this story!! Writing is on point, as always!!

“Soft” by @all-purpose-dish-soap

Pairing: SoapGaz & Fem!Reader

Tags: Gaz & Soap are curious, mentions of a bite, attempted drowning (unsuccessful bc Gaz gives Soap a slap on the wrist)

No smut

Personal Notes: Literally fulfills my childhood dream of merpeople except it features two of my favs. Love this!!

“Royalty” by @cadotoast

Pairing: Knight!John Price & Fem!Reader

Tags: Meet-Cute (Damsel in Distress type shit), John is in the background (for now), Eventual smut?, Medieval Time Setting

No smut rn

Personal Notes: The writing is so well done?? Hello?? Love love LOVE when writers do time appropriate language so this is such a slay girlboss. World building and setting are so WELL DONE. CANT WAIT FOR THE NEXT CHAPTERS!!!

“Body Electric” by @yeyinde

Pairings: TF141 & Fem!Reader, Rudy & Fem!Reader, Alejandro & Fem!Reader

Tags: Gangbang

Smut: ❤️‍🔥❤️‍🔥❤️‍🔥

Personal Notes: I have been thinking about this fic for fucking MONTHS!! So glad to have found it again!! Oh my fucking god. This is such a horny, depraved read and I fucking LOVE IT. Thank you for this gift you’ve bestowed upon us.

“Can’t Stop Thinking About” by @a-b-riddle

Pairing: Poly141 & Fem!Reader

Tags: ANGST ANGST ANGST, Hurt/Some Comfort, Walk them boys like a dog, they were in a relationship but things fell apart bc the boys treated reader like shit

Smut: ❤️‍🔥

Personal Notes: this should have been added LONG ago. I’m absolutely in love with this fic. Writing is so good, I love to read about men groveling and a woman not being quick to forgive. I seriously cannot state how much I am IN LOVE with the premise of this fic. SO SO SO excited for future updates!!

“Here’s Hoping Things Look Better on the Other Side” by @ghouljams

Pairing: Cowboy!Ghost & Fem!Reader

Tags: Filthy Panty-Wetting Toe-Curling Smut, the sexual tension between them both is fucking insane

Smut: ❤️‍🔥❤️‍🔥

Personal Notes: if you already cannot tell, I fucking LOVED this. Oh. My. God. World building was insane, description of Ghost and the readers sexual tension? Hello?? And that’s even BEFORE the smut happened. Good lord. This is a sweet treat that I will have to repeat.

“Threshold” by @rememberwren

Pairing: Ghost & Fem!Reader

Tags: Ghost is a Virgin and doesn’t inform reader, cute soft sex, I’m a SLUT for a cute cunnilingus scene, Ghost briefly gets head

Smut: ❤️‍🔥

Personal Notes: This is so soft and well-written, it genuinely put a smile on my face. I absolutely loved the premise of this fic, and loved the way the author wrote Ghost as soaking up every moment and trying to extend things, (read it and you’ll know what I’m talking about). This will def be a reread in the near future, and from then on. HUGE recommend. (Side note: another fav of mine from this author is Skin Deep. So fucking good, also another huge rec.)

“Soft Spot” by @cordeliawhohung

Pairing: Ghost & Fem!Reader

Tags: They’re a cute couple, they go through some shit together so plz pay attention to the tags on each chapter, they make it out

Smut: ❤️‍🔥

Personal Notes: Core fucking killed it again. I CANNOT stress enough how fucking great a read this was. The emotional depth of both characters was so well-written and thought out — and the complexity of their relationship?? Girl. It’s such a good fucking read. #SoftSimonForever.

“Cherry Bomb” by @swordsandholly

Pairing: Poly!TF141 & PlusSizeFem!Reader

Tags: shit is finger licking good, 141 owns a tattoo parlor, reader becomes the front desk person (I forgot the name, I’m tired, sue me ig)

Smut: ?

Personal Notes: Two chapters so far, and I’m fucking hooked. Good lord. Well-written as always, but that’s not really surprising with this author, is it?? Character building and depth so far is fucking insane, literally so fucking good. SO SO so excited to see more of this!!

Barry Sloane. by @staytrueblue

Personal Notes: This is literally solely for me, but just for context, there are listed video scenes of Barry Sloane (who plays John Price) kissing and making out. That’s all. #MorIsAHornyBastard — but seriously, fucking props to this beautiful soul for putting this together. And they involve character analysis of his roles?? Def more to dive into if you’re interested.

“In Limbo” by @cordeliawhohung

Pairing: Mafia!Ghost & Fem!Reader

Tags: Ghost is in the Mafia, 141 is part of the Mafia, Reader has Debts, Noncon touching/kissing (not from Simon)

Smut: ?

Personal Notes: This has honestly been a long time coming. Written is top tier — the description of an anxious, and private reader?? Literally insane. Love the way that Simon is written, Core always has a tendency to write characters RIGHT. Super psyched for future chapters!!

“Not What Was Sought” by @dozeydaisy

Pairing: Regency!Price & AFAB!Reader

Tags: This Right Here is a Big Boy, Just the right amount of angst, live laugh love the comfort that comes, #BridgertonButCODversion, please check tags on the fic!!

Smut: ❤️‍🔥❤️‍🔥❤️‍🔥

Personal Notes: Read this in one sitting, and i had to take a moment in the middle to just think — you know at Thanksgiving when they ask you what you’re thankful for? I literally paused and thanked all writers, especially this author. Good fucking god. I hadn’t even gotten to the smut yet and I had to take a minute?? Hello?? The chemistry between Price and the reader was off the charts — and I’m ALWAYS a slut for a good witty character that surpasses their time. Honestly. This is so well-written and perfectly drawn out. And bitch? This is ONE FIC. ONE. I’m hooked. I’m absolutely positive I will be adding more to this rec list from this author, so stay tuned for that. What you shouldn’t wait for, on the other hand, is reading this fic. Do it. Now, (an affectionate threat).

“Cowboy Simon Riley” by @ebodebo

Pairing: Fem!Reader & Cowboy!Ghost

Tags: Explicit Sex in a mfing BARN‼️, Ghost is a party crasher, death threats (not towards reader, in the beginning, and very brief), Enemies to Lovers??, slut shaming, hurt/comfort

Smut: ❤️‍🔥

Personal Notes: I absolutely fucking love the dynamic between characters where they’re desperate for each other to the point where they get irritated by what the other says/does. Oh my god. This author wrote it so well with a little world building and that takes so much fucking talent. 10/10 — will for SURE be reading the other parts.

[faeskiss]

zaros being soft and loving to the earis, not a want but a need, like an actual need, like I need air kinda need

[cymk8]

miss ma'ams..........

[vvanillavveins]

Is she Lucy Westenra, or is she just a vessel for the writer's barely disguised fantasy of a women being punished for her promiscuity? Is she really"Bram Stoker's" Lucy Westenra: a naive, innocent 19 year old, with a cheery personality and a bright future ahead of her? Or has the writer instead just slapped her name on an OC that behaves nothing like her, and- with none of the grace or decorum that Lucy's tragically short story deserves- sexualized her slow and agonising death as much as possible, whilst very unsubtly doing their best to blame her for being murdered, so that we won't object to her being killed again later in an even more gruesome and sexual manner?

[quesocheeso]

Tails of a Time Traveling Monkey (yes it’s a pun)

PART 1

Part 2