I coin the name Oliver for the general. This man needs a name and just using Oliver seems to flow with his last name. Something only the reader may call him.
warnings: none, some suggestive content if you turn around and squint, fluff, and banter
summary: you and azriel entertain your guests during the after hours of your resturant.
note: this has been in the works for a while and I finally finished it. thank you so much for all of your support :)
m.list | navi
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You smiled to yourself as you continued stirring dutifully at the pot of stew, your back facing towards him. You had felt him before he arrived- or rather, you felt his shadows caress the nape of your neck and down your arms then vanishing. They always appear first, alerting you before he shows up seconds later. He paused in the doorway, watching you for a minute and then soundlessly walked towards you, being mindful of all the squeaky wooden boards on the floor that would give him away. But you knew this place better than anyone- no matter how light the steps of one might be, the floors always shifted at the added weight. So you didn’t jump when he came up behind you, so close that you could feel the heat of his chest at your back.
Azriel reached over your shoulder to grab your chin and guide your face towards him. His lips were immediately on your own, pressing harder with every passing second. You dropped the ladle and your body turned in his direction, your hands grabbing at the leathers on his chest to ground yourself. The dizziness clouded your mind as so many emotions welled up inside of you. Relief because he is safe, joy because he is in your arms again, and love because he is still able to make you feel this way even after over 200 years.
When you pulled away from each other, your lips were swollen and your chest heaving. Your breath slowly caught up with you, your tongue passing over the assaulted area as you tasted him. His eyes remained on your mouth and he licked his own, not sparing another moment as he captured yours in another kiss. This was as unrelenting as the first one and it made you just as lightheaded.
You broke apart from him again with a hand on his chest lightly pushing him away as you heard the stew start to dangerously bubble and steam. The heat was turned down when you reached behind you and twisted the knob, the fire yielding. His hands were not shy in where they touched, a true testament to how much he has grown since you first got involved with each other. They squeezed and stroked in all of the right places, your full figure taunting him to do something more sinful. Your hair was messily tied up, your apron dirty and oily from when you wiped your hands, and your worn out clothes that you wear when meal prepping in the evening- and yet… and yet he still looked at you like that. Looked at you like you were something he desired the most in the world.
“Hi.” He breathed, his forehead coming to rest on yours.
“Hi.” You echoed, your hands trailing from his chest to loop around his waist.
Once you were able to pull yourself together and clear your mind in the few seconds of silence, you looked up at him through your lashes with a small smile. “Your little puff ball friends always give you away, I hope you know that.”
Azriel’s eyebrows pinched together in annoyance, tilting his head to the side to glower at the shadows pulsing up and down his arms. “Traitorous bastards,” Is all he says, both of you watching them dance and bob as if laughing at him. The twitch of his lips betrays his distasteful words as they retreat back into him but not before they brush against you one last time.
“Do you need any help?” He asks, leaning back to survey the kitchen that had different stations in various states of completion. His wings were definitely too large as they flexed and made the room look a lot smaller than it already was.
“After you bathe,” was your answer as you scrunched up your face. “You stink.”
He chuckled but didn’t dare refute it, instead he chose to give you a brief kiss and then released you to saunter towards the back of the kitchen where the door is that leads him straight up into your living area. It may be meager and a little cramped, but you have made it into your home. The bedroom and living space is an open floor plan with the only room closed off in one corner being the bathroom. The first floor consists of a dining area in the front of the building and the kitchen located in the back, a small restaurant that you had opened with little funds and a dream.
It was shortly after you opened when he stumbled through your life- he had a grueling training session earlier in the day, hoping to walk off any remaining soreness in his limbs by venturing towards the center of the city where all the markets were. It’s not known to some that the market side streets hide gems waiting to be discovered, truly unique hole-in-the-wall shops that deserve recognition.
The rain storm had already passed an hour prior and the sun peeked behind the clouds over this particular side street, casting a faint glow on the stone road. Small puddles littered the street, the sun’s light winking off them. He had misjudged the depth of a puddle and, quite literally, stumbled into your shop. Azriel immediately jumped up, dusting himself off quickly and profusely apologizing for disturbing your business and being the cause of the door falling off its hinges. You had been serving a guest near the front when he crashed in. The whole place froze as he swore softly and got up. As you drifted closer to him, you helped him prop the door against the doorway. You thought he looked so cute with an angry flush on his face, his eyes avoiding you in embarrassment. The soft laughter that came from you caused his eyes to fall on your face. He had never seen a more beautiful being in his life. All thought had simply ceased to exist in his mind.
“Hello, mate,” You say gently, the twinkle in your eyes and the tender smile made his legs weaken. “I’ve been waiting for you.”
You laugh quietly to yourself as you pull out the roasted meat and plate it. That memory never fails to lift your spirits.
“What’s so funny?” You hear Azriel’s low voice rumble in your ear as he crowds you, yet again, against the table.
“Just remembering how you crashed into my life,” is your teasing response, biting your bottom lip to keep from grinning. He groans, his weight sagging against your back, “You promised you’d stop teasing me.”
“Hey! I didn’t say anything!”
“You know I literally crashed into your life.” He muttered, pinching your hip. You gasp, side step him and turn to face him, pointing the tongs at his chest- the sauce from the meat dangerously close to staining his clean shirt.
“You’re the reason my door won’t close properly on windy days so-” You’re cut off as he bats the tongs away and grabs the sides of your face, pulling you towards him. His lips find yours and when he pulls back, his tongue peeks out to lick away the sauce that splashed onto the corner of your mouth. You’re breathing hard as your head spins. “What was I saying?”
He shrugs with a grin, grabbing the serving plate stacked with meat and walking out of the open door towards the tables that you had pushed together. As you put the last touches on the rest of the dishes, Azriel carried them out and put them in their rightful places on the table. You had just enough time to fly up the stairs and change into something presentable before returning to the kitchen to plate the salad on tonight’s menu.
The noise and commotion from past the kitchen doorway had you wipe your hands on a towel and greet the guests. You let out an excited squeak at the sight of your friends and ran into Feyre’s arms before making your rounds and greeting everyone else. Once the seats are filled and toasts are made, the room is filled with small chatter as multiple conversations flow around you.
As the night goes on, people leave gradually, retiring for the night until all who are left are Rhys, Cassian, Azriel and you.
“Tell me again why you decline my offer every time to work in the kitchen at the House of Wind?” Rhys asked, leaning back in his chair to sip his drink from the goblet.
Cassian rips out a chunk of meat with his teeth from the bone he was holding in his hand and then points it at Azriel. “Because he probably never asked her when you told him to.”
Azriel just shoots him a sideways glare and opens his mouth to argue. “He has told me and he has tried to convince me,” You cut him off, giving him a slight nod to let him know that you got this. “And I appreciate your very generous offers but I have worked very hard to build this up on my own.”
“Would it make a difference if I tripled my last offer?” Rhy’s asked, a lazy smile growing on his face when he saw your eyes bulge out of your head for a split second before you composed yourself.
“Rhys-” You started, folding your arms and leaning them on top of the table in front of you.
“I know, I know,” He says, waving his hand to stop you from saying the same speech you had always given him when you declined his offers. “But promise me you’ll let me do your shopping when you prepare for the next festival?”
“As long as you don’t import expensive ingredients from other courts,” You look at him pointedly and when you meet his eyes, you immediately regret saying anything.
“Now that’s an idea,” He says thoughtfully, tapping a finger on his chin as a sly smirk curls on his lips.
“Rhysand, no.” You said sternly, hoping there was enough authority in your tone to get him to rid that notion from his head. He just drains his cup and stands, Cassian following suit. You know the little shit heard you but is choosing not to engage.
“It’s getting late, I need to get going.” Rhysand announces, making a show of yawning and stretching out his arms.
“Rhysand, don’t you even dare-”
“Goodnight,” He cuts you off, hugging you before Azriel and walking out into the chilly air.
“We’re not done!” You call after him, the door muting his chuckle.
“You won’t win,” Cassian grins, giving you a quick squeeze. “Goodnight.”
You sigh, returning the hug and send him off with packed leftovers. When you turn back to the table, it has already been mostly cleared off save for a few silverware scattered about. You clear the remaining items and wipe the table down, dumping the dishes in the sink filled with warm, soapy water that already had some dishes soaking in it. Azriel is wiping down the countertop that is used for prep when you call out to him.
“Let’s leave this for tomorrow, I just want to go to bed,” You mumble, sleep clinging heavily on your lids now that you’ve turned off your hostess persona. He takes the hand that you offer him and lets you lead him up the stairs. You kick off your shoes at the top before stepping through the arched doorway, tugging him towards the bed. He makes quick work of ridding you of your clothes and pulls your long sleep shirt over your head.
“Bra,” You pout, pointing out the uncomfortable elastic digging into your side. His calloused fingers trace up your back and unclasp the offending material, tossing it somewhere behind him. He then guides your arms through the shirt like you would a toddler, brushing a kiss against your temple.
“Better?” He asks, guiding you to sit on the bed when you nod. You shuffle on the bed until you reach the far side that is pressed to the wall and lay down on your side, watching him through sleepy eyes. Azriel dresses down and pulls the covers back, sliding in and shifting his wings into a more comfortable position. His hands reach out to guide you closer to him as they wander under your shirt, rubbing soothingly at the irritated skin on your sides- his shadows whispering over you as if checking for more sore spots. Your body relaxes completely with his touch, eyes closed as you quickly spiral into blissful sleep.
“I love you,” Azriel whispers above you, settling in for the night. “More than you’ll ever know.”
By the way, if anyone is interested, I made a separate work on ao3 specifically for the world building and lore of Changing Drifts. I figured that might be a little easier to access than clicking multiple links on the master list.
