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MIDNIGHT | azriel
summary; azriel is happy, you are happy. you're both very drunk and enjoying starfall, and the two of you are indulging in a midnight tradition.
word count; 4204
notes; first day of starfall week! I hope you guys love it, and I hope we have a wonderful week ahead. I personally absolutely love this piece, I think it might be one of my favourites, so I hope you all love it too!
‘midnight’ moodboard
You were staring up at the stars, still tumbling in bright sparkles across the sky, the rush from an hour ago beginning to simmer down as the initial burst slowed. They’d go all night, long into the early hours with showers of pretty colours raining from the sky. The air was colder than usual, your breath clouding with every heavy exhale, and yet not a single goosebump rose along your exposed flesh. How could it, with the burning heat of your Illyrian mate pressed up behind you, wrapping you in every inch of him as his wings created a protective barrier around your body?
“What’y’ thinkin’ about?” Az mumbled, lips tracing over your shoulder, continuing to press kisses along the column of your throat as your head remained lazily tipped onto one of his shoulders, making space for his tipsy kisses.
With the soft shake of his words rumbling against your back as you leaned a little further into his chest, you gave a sigh. You were happy, so very happy, and that newly-formed bond between your hearts thrummed with joy upon feeling your emotions. “You. Us. This night.” You shrugged a little, his arms tightening further around your waist.
“Oh?” A teasing nip was placed to the juncture just above your collar, and you squealed slightly, feeling him place a soft kiss through his smile to the same location.
“Isn’t it funny how much things have changed in a single year?” His hand splayed further across your hip while he only hummed, obviously distracted as he nuzzled into your neck, and the phrase ‘Illyrian baby’ that Feyre so often muttered flashed across your mind. You’d never have expected a year ago to find out that Azriel, the terrifying shadow of death incarnate, would be so affectionate. And when he was drunk? He became positively clingy. “To think, just one year ago, I was just another of Nesta’s wayward friends that you were training.”
That drew a laugh from him, your choice of wording attracting the attention of Cassian as well as he stepped out onto the long-since cleared balcony to join you both, eyeing the many empty glasses you and Azriel had managed to consume, lining the stone wall. “You were never just ‘another of Nesta’s friends’.”
Twisting in his hold, you wobbled only slightly on your heels, proud of yourself for being able to implement all Cassian’s lectures on balance even when you were this intoxicated. As you took in your mate’s face, you weren’t sure whether perhaps he was even drunker than you were. Flushed cheeks, half-lidded eyes as he peered down at you, messy hair and a pretty smile he rarely ever showed outside of the walls of your own bedroom. Your brows rose at him, despite the blur at the edges of your vision and the lazy pace of your heart in your chest, the sight of him still made it skip a beat.
Cassian scoffed at his brother, swilling his own drink around his glass and downing what was left of it, scoffing at Azriel’s claim.
Azriel sighed, giving in. “Alright, so you were, but I get a free pass, I was in a weird headspace.”
Your grin grew, his eyes widening to normal as he took in your playful expression, mouth opening to correct himself, but it was too late. “Weird headspace, is that what we’re calling it? Y’know, that makes our first hook-up sound like a pity fuck.”
The red on his cheeks deepened, crawling all the way up to his temples, and his lips pressed together as the general to your left all but howled with laughter. You couldn't hold back your own giggles, swaying slightly as you looped your arms around his neck, pulling yourself up and him down, until your noses were brushing.
“S’okay, loverboy, it was one hell of a pity fuck.”
He bit down a little on that lower lip, nudging his nose over your own a little more firmly, the tightening of his hands on your exposed lower back was a warning of his own attitude getting ready to shine through, uninhibited. “How about, we call the first around a pity fuck, and all the other rounds that night were just mindblowing sex that resulted in our wonderful mate bond?”
He dipped down, taunting you as he pressed a kiss to the edge of your mouth, your cheek, wet lips kissing everywhere except your mouth, and you panted a little, wobbling on your raised toes, even in the heels. “Oh, baby, we can do better. I’m thinkin’ we call it a pity kiss, and the rest was, what did you call it? Mindblowing.”
He smirked, finally catching your lips in a searing kiss that had you moaning: hot and sweet and a little messy, his tongue dipping into your mouth long enough to make you gasp. He tasted of the spicy whiskey he’d been drinking all night, working like he was seeking out the flavours of the fruity cocktails Nesta had been pushing into your hands since the moment you’d arrived.
“Ahem!” Cassian made a loud cough, tapping the edge of his glass in sharp rings that made you wince, ruining the soft haziness you’d fallen into, and Azriel gave a delicious growl into your mouth before pulling back, but barely. His eyes fluttered open, snapping to look at his brother as you slumped down against his chest, cheek resting over his heart.
“Beat it, Cass. You fucked Nesta on the dining room table last week, I’ll kiss my mate on the balcony if I want to.”
You chuckled, twisting to bury your face in his chest to hide the sound, and Cassian spluttered indignantly. “Hey! At least I didn’t make you two a third-wheel when I did that!”
“You made us retch when we had to smell at dinner that evening.” He sniped back, and Cassian smirked, head tipping back to laugh in a silent ‘touchè’, before wandering away and giving you your privacy. Your head was spinning, too many thoughts and none at all, everything going silent as rough, calloused hands slid up to cup your face, tipping your head back to catch his gaze. “Now, where were we?”
He left a kiss on your cheekbone, your eyes fluttering at the hot feeling of his lips as you all but melted into him, your already weak body feeling like you were utterly boneless as he showered you with such affection. His kisses moved, trailing along your cheek slowly, making his way toward your mouth, and you were ready to spend the whole rest of the night right here, doing exactly this, until a flash of a thought across the front of your mind had your eyes snapping wide open.
As you pulled back, Azriel let out a very un-warrior-like whine, pouting in a way that made him look ridiculously cute as he pulled back too. “What is it, baby?”
“What time is it?”
“Time for you to kiss me.” He muttered, stealing a peck from your lips, and another, and another, until you were giggling, and he was tugging on that bond happily, the feeling like a string wrapping around his finger.
“Az! I’m serious, what time is it?” A dramatic sigh left him, as though you’d just assigned the most awful and laborious task in the world to him. Sweeping you backwards and over his arm, he gave you one last heavy kiss on your lips, spinning the two of you as he did until he was able to peer into the room inside. His neck craned up to see, blinking several times as he tried to focus, and you took the chance to leave several of your own kisses along his jaw.
“No fair.” He groaned, but tipped his head back anyway, your lips dragging softly over the apple of his throat, bobbing as he swallowed thickly, before pulling you back upright. So close you were sharing breath as you stared up at him, a dazed look on his face as he smiled down at you, both of you swaying a little, struggling to stay upright and utterly happy about it.
“S’like, eleven-thirty.” He tucked a few strands of hair behind your ear, the delicate up-do of twists and braids Nesta had done for you coming loose after hours of dancing and drinking and mingling. Mostly from Azriel’s fingers threading into it. “Can we go back to kissing now? I like kissing. Kissing is good.”
His voice trailed off with each dip of his voice, until he was whispering, so low you could barely hear him over the raucous band Rhys had hired, heavy gaze fixated on your mouth once again. “Traditions!”
“What?”
“Traditions, Az! I have traditions.” With that, you pulled away, his wings loosening as soon as your back brushed the leathery appendages. Your fingers found one of his hands, lacing tightly together, and he stumbled a little as you began to pull him along behind you.
He didn’t ask, he never did when you went on one of your whims, and you could feel his bemused adoration through the bond as he sent wave after wave of it over to you while you weaved between the corridors. Leaving the music behind until it became nothing but a dull throb through the marble pillars and stone walls, glass doors of the beautiful kitchen pinned open and blissfully empty.
Letting go of his hand, you spun, faltering a little on your heel as your arms flung out to the sides in demonstration, and you both laughed when you tripped, catching yourself on the island in the centre of the room.
“We’re in the kitchen!” He cheered, arms pumping enthusiastically above his head, and you giggled, watching him whoop loudly in support. Then, his arms slumped down, brows furrowing a little, eyes calculating as he looked around. “We’re… in the kitchen. Why are we in the kitchen?”
“For food.”
“Your Starfall tradition is a midnight snack?” He stepped a little closer, lips pulling up at the edges, and you wobbled once again in your heels, cursing the items for catching on the rough-hewn stone of the kitchen tiles.
“My favourite Starfall tradition is a midnight snack.” You corrected, and he nodded fervently, as though it made total sense, despite the confused expression still marring those handsome features. “Help me out of these heels and I’ll explain.”
“My pleasure, my lady.” Large hands settled on your hips, lifting you like you were nothing but a feather onto the counter you’d been leaning on, prompting bursts of shy giggles from your lips at his manhandling. He smirked, knowing how much you loved it, before sinking to one knee before you and propping one foot onto his bent leg. Lifting the long skirt of your dress out of the way, he pressed a lingering kiss to your knee, fingers struggling a little with the clasps as he tried to keep them steady, to focus through the whiskey blur, eventually managing it and slipping on shoe off. He took your foot in his hand, thumbs pressing into the sole in a way that made your head roll back in bliss. “Tell me about your traditions!”
“Oh, yeah!” Excitement flooded through you once again, stomach rumbling just in time for your plans, and you patted at it lightly as he moved onto the second shoe, a matching kiss to your other knee, too. “I never really celebrated Starfall with anyone special, but I’ve always loved it, and wanted to make it special for myself. I’d watch the stars and get a bottle of really good wine, and I’d sit in the window or outside. The first time I did it, I was just sad, so I made myself all my favourite snacks to cheer myself up when it turned midnight. The year after that, I did the same thing, just to make myself happy. It kind of just… snowballed from there. Eating junk food and watching all the spirits fly by on their journey. It makes me happy, and I want to share that with you.”
“And I would love to share it with you, my love,” Azriel mumbled, dropping the heels to the floor, and kissing each leg once more, before rising to his feet. “But we only have a half-hour ‘til midnight, what are we going to make?”
“Why don’t we both come up with an idea, and say it on three?”
His eyes lit up at the suggestion, a look stitching onto his face that suggested extreme concentration, and your eyes scanned the room, gaze a little vacant as you tries to work out what you were actually feeling. A champagne bottle popped loudly somewhere in the distance, and you gasped a little, only one idea coming to mind.
“Okay, on three.” You held up your fingers, just three, and Azriel leaned forwards, a cheesy grin on his face as he placed a kiss on the tip of each one, a bashful smile on his face at your awed look. You shook your head clear.
This was not the time to be distracted by his cuteness. Instead, you counted down: three, two, one,
“Popcorn.”
“Cheese fries.”
Your eyes widened at his suggestion, stomach rumbling happily in agreement at the idea of cheesy carbs to soak up all the bubbling alcohol, and Azriel let out a gruff moan, rubbing his stomach absentmindedly. “I could so go for cheese fries, Az.”
“No, we need popcorn…” He mumbled, eyes glossing over as he stared into the middle distance, lips parted, and you could practically see the images flashing before his eyes. “With melted butter, and we stir in some caramel sauce.”
“Woah…” Your mouth watered, tongue tingling at the mere thought of it all, eyes widening as you pictured the sticky, sweet treat. At that exact moment, brain fuzzy and body feeling heavy, you were absolutely sure it was the best idea you’d ever heard. Except, of course; “What about cheese fries, with little bacon pieces, chives on top, and sour cream?”
Azriel’s eyes only opened even wider, head tipping back, and a drawn-out moan falling from his lips. “We make both?”
“Both is good. Both is perfect.”
“I’ll start on the potatoes.” He was swift, even in his drunk state, and he was quick to retrieve a knife from the stand and several potatoes, beginning to slice them all into thin sticks for fries. “Baby, chop-chop. Get the stuff for the popcorn!”
“Sir, yes, sir.” You saluted, a crooked grin forming on his lips as you searched around in the cupboard for popcorn kernels, before making quick work of finding a pan for both the potatoes and the corn.
He was done in record time with the fries, despite his general sluggishness and lethargy from the many drinks you’d both had, he was somehow still quick and efficient with a knife. If it wasn’t so unsettlingly hot, you’d be scared. The sounds of the first pops made you jump, and you were staring at the pan in front of yourself as Azriel began to work on the bacon.
“Az…” You whispered, leaning in close enough to him to be able to prop your chin up on his shoulder. He turned a little to face you, noses bumping together.
“Yeah?” His whisper matched yours.
“We have a major problem.” He frowned, grip on the knife a little tighter, whirling around with one protective arm around you.
“Where? Who?”
“Me!” He gasped, dropping the knife back onto the chopping board as he turned to you, forehead pressing to your own.
“What’s wrong? I’ll fix it. I’ll fix the world. No problem is too big, I can do it, what happened?”
“I forgot how to make the caramel sauce.” Your bottom lip jutted out, a pout to mirror the one he’d once worn, and somewhere in the background, potatoes began to bubble in their pan, bacon sizzling as it heated up.
“Oh… that is a big problem. But it’s okay, because I remember.” His lips brushed a simple kiss over your own, before he was straightening, sniffling the air and whipping his head back around to bacon bits were nearing too crispy, had he not dove in to save them. “You need butter, and sugar, and cream.”
With a smack on your ass, he sent you on your way to the fridge to retrieve the three items, lining them up neatly beside him as he drained the potatoes, quickly transferring them to the oven to begin crisping up. Peering over his shoulder, you watch him stir the bacon, arms wrapped around his waist, balanced on his tiptoes as your body pressed between his drooping wings. “You know what I just thought of?”
“Raccoons.”
“What?”
He only shrugged, brushing off his hands and finding yet another pan to make the cheese sauce. The dishes were really beginning to pile up. It sounded like a problem for your sober-selves tomorrow morning. “They’re these little fuzzy things from the human realm. They’re weird. They wear little bandit masks and have stripy tails and they have these creepy little human hands. I think they’re funny.”
“You should bring one back.”
“You want one? I’ll get you one, I get you one right now-” His back straightened, like he might really fly out, and your grip on him only tightened, sinking back down onto your feet as he turned in your arms, guiding you away from the heat. “What were you thinking about besides raccoons?”
“I wasn’t- whatever, I was thinking about onions.”
“Are you going to make a weird joke about me being an onion? Layers ‘n’ stuff.”
“No, but I will save that for later.” You mimed tucking something into a pocket, winking conspiratorially. “I think we should fry some onions, for the cheese fries.”
Azriel’s lips parted a little, staring in shock at you for several seconds, before both of his large hands were cupping your face and he was pressing a passionate kiss to your lips. One so strong and searing it dragged a squeak from you, your body going lax in his arms as you gripped the lapels of his smart blazer just to hold yourself up. “I love you, I love you, I love you…” The words were like a prayer, whispered into your mouth, until you were too breathless to continue. “I love you so much.”
“You love me because of the onions?” Your words were panted a little, and you swore Azriel was glowing as you stared, reverently. His lips were still shining and swollen from all of your night's activities, looking so goddamn delicious you wanted to dive right back in.
“Yes.”
“Understandable.” You hauled yourself up, bodies colliding as your mouths slammed together once again, and he groaned. Licking his way into your mouth, Azriel tasted like heaven and sin and love all rolled into one, sweet cocktails and whiskey mixing to create a balance more heady than any other spirit or drug.
A clock chimed.
You broke apart.
“It’s midnight.” You whispered, fingers brushing through his hair, far too messy to be tamed at all now. “We haven’t finished the snacks.”
“Then we’d better do that. What my girl wants, she gets.”
Like a perfect team, in clumsy harmony, you worked to prepare the meal, skirting around the kitchen in bare feet while Az stripped off his blazer and bowtie, eventually abandoning his own shoes too. Soon, piled up before you in copious and severely overestimated quantities, was a pile of cheese fries, dripping sauce with bacon and onions, matched unusually with hot caramel popcorn.
Something clinked, and Azriel placed down two elegant wine glasses before you, popping a very expensive-looking bottle of wine, too. “A meal like this deserves suitable wine to pair.”
“What an excellent suggestion.”
Music pounded through the doors of the kitchen as Azriel poured the glasses and prepared cutlery, your body swaying happily to the tunes coming through the large mountain-top house. A scarred hand threaded through yours, spinning you in a sudden movement, before you were crashing into his chest. “Would you give me the honour of this dance, my love?”
“Of course.”
And it was just like that, swaying through the kitchen in fits of giggles and smiles and silly jokes that you were found, interrupted, by your High Lord, making his presence known in an exaggerated sigh. Behind him, all of Azriel’s friends, your new friends, were crowded, peering in varying levels of amusement and shock at the man who was currently swaying with you across the kitchen.
“We have been looking everywhere for you, brother. To make our midnight wishes.”
“Woah. So many people.” Your statement was somehow so funny that Az burst out in peels of full-bellied laughter, and Cassian chuckled deeply at his friend.
“They’re so drunk!” Feyre beamed, standing tucked under Rhysand’s arm much the same way Azriel often held you.
“They’re so cute!” Cassian cooed, and you only gave him your best smile in return, slinking away towards the smell of food as it called out behind you, threatening to go cold and undo all your hard work.
“Are those cheese fries?” Lucien stepped forward a little, your eyes widening at the look on his face as he stared at the bowl of cheesy carbs, and Azriel growled, stepping protectively in front of the food.
“Our cheese fries.”
You pulled the bowl a little closer to your body as you hopped up onto a stool once again.
“So, no wishes for you, then, Az?” Rhys was barely holding back his laughter as your mate took a seat right by your side, taking a fork, and watching him poke about and create a perfect mouthful with it. You were jealous over that mouthful.
“I wish I was eating these fries, already.” Only as your sentence ended did Azriel push the forkful of fries into your mouth, thumb wiping a stray line of cheese sauce from under your lip. Your eyes watered a little, overcome with emotion that he’d given up the perfect bite for you. He stroked affectionately at the bond connecting you both as he sensed it, and you plucked it back, a pulse of gratitude ripping to his heart. He smiled, finally taking a bite himself.
“I can’t believe you made cheese and bacon fries, and…” As Rhys stepped closer, snatching up the popcorn bowl to sniff it before you could stop him, you watched Lucien carefully as he continued to edge closer to the fries you were guarding with your life. Sneaky fox, you knew he’d find a way to steal them if you took your eyes off him. “Caramel popcorn? And white wine? You two are so odd.”
“Oh, cut it out.” Feyre elbowed him gently, before wrapping both her arms around his arm and kissing his shoulder through his jacket. “They’re odd but adorable.”
“We’re the cutest.” You agreed, nodding more than was necessary but once you’d started, you couldn't stop. Not until Azriel was holding up another pile of cheese fries before your face on the shared fork, and you gasped, letting him feed it to you by parting your lips wide.
“It’s nice to see him so happy.” Feyre sighed, pulling out a chair opposite you both, and beginning to snack on the popcorn. You wanted to complain, but you weren’t really sure whether that counted as treason or not. She was High Lady, was there some kind of law you didn’t know about regarding popcorn and the crown? It was a terrifying possibility.
“I’m so happy.” Your lover muttered through a mouthful of food, and Lucien finally made his move, reaching in and snatching some of the fries up on a fork, pulling back with a smug grin at his victory. “So, so, happy.”
Had it not been for Az choosing that exact moment to dot a collection of love-filled kisses along your cheek, you’d have fought for the fries back. Instead, you decided to concede, allowing Lucien this small victory. After seeing the Day heir get food, however, and as Feyre ate the popcorn, Cassian swiped up a fork and joined in, and Nesta looked like she was plotting her next move.
“Rhys, I want chicken strips.”
With a snap of his fingers, the table was piled high around you all, the plate of chicken strips Feyre had requested sitting right before her, as bowls and stacks of other food filled the island up. Excited sounds left everyone, chairs being dragged out and more glasses and bottles fetched, until nine people were gathered excitedly around the table, digging in and exchanging food.
The doors shut, sealing you all in, the party left behind as you found yourselves in a celebration of your own in the kitchen. The laughter flowed, as did the wine as it was passed around, and your heart was practically tripping with joy. Not only did you get to share your tradition with the man you loved, who was all but plastered to your side, clinging on, but you got to share it with your new family.
“So, since we’re on the topic of traditions, can we circle back to those wishes now?”