Azriel x CoN Sex Worker! Reader
Warnings: smut, talks of assault, reader is one of Azriel’s spies in Con, derogatory language, and shadow play
Time ran out. You'd give him your decision tonight. Here, in the heart of the Hewn City, at the Court of Nightmares. You kept to the walls of the gathering, watching everyone with a glass of wine in your hand. You didn’t back down from the glares directed at you. They could whisper all they want.
It wasn't unusual for whores to be invited to the lavish parties. In your three hundred years of living, you knew who were the usual ones to come. It didn't bother you, you had other clients to cater to during these gatherings. Especially when it involved getting information out of them.
Being an orphan in the Hewn City taught you to be strategic and resourceful, and it paid off. A century ago, the High Lord’s spymaster approached you at the pleasure house. He needed information about one of your clients. You obliged, giving him what he needed for your normal rate and a good fuck. Except it wasn't a good fuck, it was fantastic. You thought about it constantly until he returned. After three successful missions, he trusted you to be his spy in the Hewn City. The agreement was simple, you gave him information in return he pleasured you. For once, you got to finish before a male. You spent five decades working for him, and he then disappeared for five more.
You knew something was wrong, but you couldn't do anything without risking exposure, a whipping, or death. The Mother knew you had enough scars on your back from stealing food in your adolescence.
“Now what would a gorgeous female like you be doing on the outskirts of a party?” The Morrigan smirked, sliding next to you against the wall. You eyed her, noticing the curiosity and lust in her gaze.
“Waiting for someone,” you shrugged. She was looking for a more descriptive answer, but something told you to continue being vague. Before you could continue, a dark tendril of shadow slid over your wrist. It began tugging and you smiled. “Looks like they’re here, nice to meet you,” you said, and walked with the shadow still tugging you toward the dais.
Your heartbeat quickened the closer you were to the High Lord and Lady. A new anxiety settled in you at the sight of them. The High Lord’s gaze landed on you, inspecting your attire then your face. Before he could speak, the Shadowsinger appeared from behind the throne. His honey-colored eyes met yours, his scarred hand extending out for you to step up.
You hesitated, the anxiety keeping your feet planted where they were. The whispers growing behind you and flooding your mind. Whore and bitch were thrown around, nothing out of the ordinary. Though now that you’re here, doing this so publicly, it was unsettling your usual swagger.
The High Lady hissed and they all settled. The music fills the space once more. With a clear mind, you stepped up and took Azriel’s hand. The tension in his shoulders dropped, but he noticed yours hadn't.
“Everything will be fine,” he said softly.
“Azriel, who is this divine female you've brought to us?” The High Lady asks with a devious smile. You bowed as the shadow that brought you here returned to its master.
Your bow didn't last long when you felt an attempt to break your shield. Your head shot up to look at the High Lord. He only smirked, a mask of intrigue and indifference on his face.
“It’s better discussed in private,” Azriel says, his hand settling on the small of your back. You watched all three of them, seeing whatever silent conversation they were having clear as day. Rhysand nodded once before Azriel ushered you away. Once gone from prying eyes, you clung to him like a child.
“For a moment, I thought you were going to run again,” he said as a faelights illuminated the tunnel you were using. Your face heated up at the embarrassment.
“You've never frozen in panic?” you ask.
“Once, when I thought my brothers were dead,” he admitted. You squeezed him tighter in comfort. During nights of information exchanges, you might've gotten too personal with Azriel. He knew you were an orphan, and you often asked what it was like to have a family. He wasn't one to sympathize with fae in the Court of Nightmares, but you… You were different in many ways.
Azriel set his hand against the wall, pushing against it until the door revealed a private study. Inside stood Mor and the Illiryan General Azriel had brought once to indulge in a fantasy you shared. Once again, you face warmed up at the memory.
“We meet again,” Mor smiled. She properly introduced herself to you. A promise that we’d be seeing each other more. Cassian greeted you next, kissing your knuckles. That smirk had you falling to your knees last time, but you could scent his mating bond and kept a respectful distance away. Finally, Rhysand and Feyre arrived. The latter was now dressed in a sweater and leggings.
“Now, tell me what this is about,” Rhys sighed and you looked up at Azriel. He nodded and you dropped your shield completely. Wind bristling Feyre’s hair as your shield surrounded the room. She gasped at your scent, Rhysand looking to his brother for confirmation. Cassian and Mor also seemed unsettled as you exposed the mating bond.
“Well, that complicates things,” Rhys sighed, moving to pour himself a drink. You watched him select a bottle, uncapping it and pouring the amber liquid into a glass. “Who taught you impenetrable shields?”
“No one, it manifested once and I focused on concentrating it closer to my body,” you answer, and before you could shut your mouth the question left your lips, “Does it complicate things because of Velaris?” The glass shattered in Rhysand’s hand. You flinch, shield returning to protect yourself. Azriel widened his stance, shadows preparing to whisk you away if needed.
“How do you know?” Mor asked, her tone sharp. Cassian watched, assessing whether you were a threat.
“I haven't kept this shield down in almost three hundred years, I felt the glamour move across the Night Court. After a month of not hearing from Azriel, I assumed it was a safety measure put in place and kept my mouth shut,” You felt Azriel tug your arm to stop you from getting into Mor’s face. Mentally, he was grinning with pride at your attitude. He often enjoyed seeing the harsher sides the city forced you to have. You could be quite the cruel little thing.
“Forgive her, we weren't aware anyone knew,” Rhysand said. You didn't stop glaring at Mor, hoping she'd see the insanity in your eyes waiting for a reason to let it out. She stepped closer to Cassian, accepting your answer.
“When did this happen?” Feyre asks, an attempt to smooth over the tension.
“When Rhysand returned,” Azriel said before smirking to himself. He gently turned your head back to face him, seeing the fire in your eyes leave as they settled on him. “She ran away from me.”
“You didn't have to tell them that part, it makes it sound bad,” you scolded. You explained the story to them. How you were off and running errands. You decided to take a different path back to your apartment when you saw Azriel again. Initially, it was shock that kept you frozen until the mating bond snapped into place. You hadn't seen Azriel in almost fifty years, and it terrified you. So you ran away, abandoning your groceries to find anywhere to calm your breathing.
“I caught up to her easily,” Azriel said smugly. You rolled your eyes at his pride, attempting to hide the fact that it turned you on significantly.
“We spoke about what to do and entered into a bargain,” you continued, removing the glamour from yours and Azriel's skin to show the swirls of ink that covered your arm. “In one year, I’d give him an answer.”
“Why wait a year?” Cassian asked.
“I figured that Azriel didn't live here permanently, so I used the time to resign from the brothel and send clients to other fae,” you answered then added, “I also wanted to make sure I had enough of my own money to be comfortable. I didn't want you all to assume I was after his money.”
“There is one more reason,” Azriel declared. Oh yes, that reason was more complicated. “My mate’s power is similar to yours, Feyre. Shifting, wind, lightning, healing, amplification, shielding, winnowing, and death magic.” Cassian cursed hearing the list of your power.
“You forgot Daemati,” you mentioned for good measure. This needed to be a fully honest conversation, you knew that and despised it. They were getting a scroll of information, and you knew nothing about them. Almost nothing, you knew certain parts of Cassian at least.
“What is death magic?” Mor asked.
“I can sense death, that’s all I know. I don't particularly entertain that power,” the questions continued, and you answered each one until silence filled the room again. Azriel kept soothing you with his touch. His possessiveness and need to keep you safe in any way possible. He knew his family would have questions. He knew Nesta would have even more when they arrived at the townhome. Gods spare him if you didn't like her.
“Thank you for your honesty,” Rhys said. You bit the inside of your cheek to avoid running your mouth. It didn't feel like a choice each time he asked to enter your mind for confirmation of your answers. You gave a tight nod, relaxing into Azriel. “I’ve been meaning to ask, what else are you hiding with your glamour?”
You swallowed hard. Azriel gave you a quizzical look before inspecting himself. His thumb swiped over your arm, feeling harsh bumps and then you winced when he pressed harder.
“I was attacked in my apartment last night. A former client wasn't pleased that I was leaving. I had temporarily dropped my shield to get ready for bed when he broke in,” you admitted. The wards you had in place weren't strong enough, and you had to learn the hard way. The rest of your glamour dropped, revealing the yellowing bruises and scabbed-over cuts littering your body. Mor let out a soft gasp, all three males beginning to fill the air with silent fury. You could've sworn the mountain shook for a moment.
“I healed as much as I could on my own,” you whispered, the memories beginning to replay all over again in your head. You thought he was going to force himself on you, instead, he tried to murder you. You thanked the Mother for your healing powers each night, last night was no different.
“Take her to Madja, we will be there shortly,” Rhysand stated, his face grave before he, Cassian, and your mate winnowed away with Mor. Feyre reached her hand out to you, and you took it letting her take you to the City of Starlight.
You arrived in an antechamber with Mor and Feyre. Your mouth hung open when you heard the sound of children laughing and playing outside. Your mate’s scent hit you first, this was his home.
“Come, Madja is here. We’ll find you some more comfortable clothes,” Mor said and you looked at the Healer. She inspected you before a soft frown settled on her face.
“You have gone through much, haven't you?” she asks gently, escorting you to another study. You didn't answer her, too many people knew your story already and you knew nothing about them.
Madja began healing your body, bruises vanishing and cuts becoming new scars on your skin. When you revealed your back to her, you flushed. The scars were horrible, and the healers in Hewn tried to mend your skin as best they could. Only the damage was beyond repair, seven jagged lines covered your back as a reminder of what you'd done to survive.
“Give me some time, and I will find a way to heal these,” Madja promised and the door opened again. You thanked Madja softly as your mate entered with new clothes for you to change into. You could smell the metallic tang of blood on him. The anger was completely gone from his gaze.
“Mor found these for you,” he says gently. You thanked him, taking the clothes and changing into them. The sweater smelled like Azriel, but the leggings had an unfamiliar scent of another female. Perhaps Cassian’s mate. Azriel didn't hesitate to crush you to his body once you were dressed again. His lips were littering kisses over your neck and jaw.
Azriel couldn’t keep his hands off you. He needed to hold you and apologize for his family’s interrogation. Possibly for the rest of his life. He had told Rhysand to be easy, and yet you had to reveal every bit of your life. At least Nesta promised to be gentler.
“Tell me everyone is gone now,” you sigh. “I have food to make.”
“Not yet, Amren has questions for you,” he says and you groan. He understood your frustration. Neither of you spoke about yourselves for forty years.
“What did you do to him?” you ask. He pulls away, smirking at you. “Not much considering the state you left him in,” you grin up at Azriel. You were shocked initially when your former client attacked you, but when your instincts kicked in you fought back hard. You'd left him nailed to the wall of your old apartment bleeding. Azriel was impressed by the magic you used to keep him alive for so long. Until he read the note you left stabbed through the male’s stomach. My mating gift to you. He kept that blood-stained note in his pocket, feeling the weight of it. You were his mate. His equal in every way. He'd continue to thank The Mother and Cauldron for it.
“Amren is only interested in your power, she's older than any of us and will most likely know the source,” He explained. At least you'll get some answers. You follow Azriel out of the study, taking in the art and how it felt like a home. The family room was filled with new faces, one you recognized as Cassian’s mate by her scent. Her eyes narrowed on you, and you didn't back down.
“I’m impressed at how much Azriel has taught you,” you blinked away to look at Rhysand. His playful smirk did nothing to disarm you.
“He didn't teach me to fight, it’s natural,” you defend. You saw his gaze darken, disliking your attitude. Shadows darkened in the corners of the room. You loosened a breath before beginning to speak again, “Forgive me, High Lord, but you are forming opinions and making decisions on me, seeing if I’m resourceful to you. Yet, I know nothing about you aside from what you did to protect what’s precious to you. I don't mean to disrespect you, however, my life has changed completely in one night.”
The tension was thick, your mind clouded by your primal instinct to protect your bond. You let your rage and everything you've gone through show. Letting your mental shields down to show him what it was like for you. Recognition crossed his eyes, understanding that you and he had lived the same fifty years. The circumstances were different, but still too similar for the High Lord’s liking. You and he were whores, without any other reason than to survive.
“You’re right, we haven't been fair. We can continue this conversation later. Take the time you need,” no one expected him to say that. It wasn't an apology, but it was enough to keep your anxiety at bay.
“I like this one,” Nesta smiled. Cassian chuckled at his mate. “Can she be an advisor? Her job would only be to humble Rhysand.”
“She can humble you as well,” Rhys snapped back, and you let out the most delighted giggle. The shadows settled at the sound, their master at ease once again. Everyone began to leave, with knowing smiles at what was about to happen. Nesta winked at Azriel, and he blushed and shoved her shoulder.
“I should subject you to what you put me through at your home,” Azriel mutters, raising your curiosity. Nesta rolled her eyes promising to interrupt them after the mating frenzy. Azriel smiled as he closed the door, finally having you all to himself. Your hand settled in the center of his chest, pressing it gently until his armor crawled off his body. He liked that you knew how to get him out of it. At times he's felt it’s all he ever is, a weapon. He didn't want that for you.
“Can I make you something?” you ask and his grin widens.
“No, but I’d like a strawberry, there should be a box in the kitchen,” he says, an arm already snaking around your waist. You hum when he begins to kiss your neck and jaw.
“There’s one issue with that,” you sigh, gripping the fabric of his shirt. The need for him to be inside you is beginning to consume you.
“What is it?” Azriel asks, still not removing himself from the crook of your neck. He wanted to keep you in his arms for the rest of his damned eternal life.
“I have no clue where the kitchen is,” He snickers into your neck before leading you further into the home. The home he now shares with you. He couldn't wait to always have your scent around him. No longer a mountain and politics in the way of him being with you.
As promised, he took you to the large kitchen, and on the island was a small carton of strawberries. They were different from the ones back home. These were a vibrant red, large, and plump. Their scent was strong and sweet as you grabbed one and extended it to Azriel. He grabbed one as well, mimicking your actions. You furrowed your brow. “Equals,” he said causing your emotions to stir up again.
Yes, you could be vicious and cruel like anyone else in the Court of Nightmares. He knew what you were capable of. But you both knew that under every hard exterior, there's vulnerability. Azriel’s family may only see where you come from, but this side of you was who he always saw. Someone who thought they were unworthy of this type of balance in a relationship. You both would break the cycle for each other.
Together, you simultaneously took a bite out of the fruit. Unable to control yourself you moaned at the flavor. It was better than any of the ones you bought at the markets back in Hewn. Another reason to despise the imbalance of the Night Court. You'd save that note for your next debate with Rhysand.
The stems fell from your hands. Azriel slid his hands to cradle as he pressed his lips to yours. His patience was gone, the golden thread between you buzzing with lust, acceptance, and unbridled joy. He noticed you were crying and quickly kissed away your tears. Your nails dug into his back, a spot you knew that gave him some pain. He purred against your skin when you started to massage it for him.
“That’s going to help so much later tonight when I watch you unravel on my cock,” he moans in your ear. You shudder as his breath tickles your ear. Shadows creep up your legs, begging to explore their master’s mate. They enjoyed cooling your warm skin as you kissed their master. Azriel tried to shoo them, but the damned sentient power disobeyed him. No, they wanted you as much as he did. You were theirs as well.
You gasped when Azriel picked you up and set you on the island. It shouldn't have turned you in so much being handled like this. You didn't care once he knelt before you like you were a goddess. The intensity in his gaze had goosebumps forming on your skin. He truly is the most beautiful male you've seen.
You helped him take your leggings off, his hands greedily kneading your thighs as they opened and revealed your glistening core. He hummed, beginning his journey at your inner thighs. He kissed his way up, leaving marks on your skin that had you writhing with want. You tried to guide him where you wanted him to kiss and lick, but shadows quickly restrained your hands.
“You don't play fair,” you pout before more shadows slither over you to fondle your chest. Your back arched at the light stimulation. Then Azriel finally put his mouth where you wanted him. In two swipes he had you coming on his tongue. He was impressed with himself, moaning at your sweet taste. He wanted more, completely insatiable and spurred on by your moans.
The magic of the house moved the strawberries to another counter, anticipating your mate’s next action. Azriel hooked your legs over his shoulders, tugging your hips for a better angle, and sliding two fingers into you. His tongue swirled around your clit, and all you could think of was him. His name is a broken prayer on your lips as you feel the shadows gliding against your skin, and their master between your legs giving you orgasm after orgasm until the dam broke. Stars burst behind your eyelids, your back frozen in an arch as your arousal soaked his face and shirt.
When your eyes finally opened, you were met with your mate’s wide grin. Your arousal glistening on his chin and lips. You twitched when the shadows that held your wrists ran down to your core. Azriel hissed at the shadow, sparking your arousal once more. You pulled him back to your mouth, tasting yourself on his tongue. He groaned unlacing his trousers as you tugged on his hair. He hadn't had anyone touch him like you, a boundary he could never enforce with you.
You felt his cock being freed from his trousers. The length slides along your core, languid thrusts to make your mind go wild. “Azriel, please,” you whined, grinding in sync with his movements. His wings bristled at your needy tone. He slid into you, reveling at how tight and warm you were. You clenched around him as he slowly filled you. He didn't let his eyes leave your face; he watched as your jaw slackened, the way your brows furrowed in pleasure, even the slight tug to his hair. This was you, soft and precious.
You felt a tear drop fall onto your skin. Your eyes opened, seeing the twisted features in Azriel's face. He was feeling too much. You knew how he could get lost in himself. The self-loathing he wore like a heavy cloak he couldn't get off. He thought he didn't deserve this, didn't deserve you.
"Azriel," You start softly. He loosened a shaky breath as you sat up more. You wiped away his tears, bringing his forehead to touch yours. Shadows began to cover you both, protecting their master and what's precious to them. “I see you, and I love all of you,” you say, letting him feel the honesty in your words.
Azriel swallowed hard, his grip on your waist tightening before he regained his composure. “You are not just a weapon. You are kind, loyal, and a good male,” his shadows lessened, his wings twitching endlessly at the kindness he believed he did not deserve. You persisted, saying the words over and over paired with your soft kisses until he calmed down.
“I love you,” he replies before beginning to move again. He didn't rush, he took his time, feeling this connection between you and him. For once in he didn't know how long, he let himself feel.
You didn't stop kissing him. Any available expanse of skin was quickly covered by your lips. Azriel knew he wouldn't last long, and you knew it too. His resolve and boundaries slowly crumbled. The one rule that he had with you was banished as his wing extended toward you. “Touch them, please.”
You whined at the trust he put in you. “Come on, baby. I know you want to,” you shuddered at the timbre in his voice. Nodding, you reach out and run a finger down the leathery membrane. His moans were hoarse, louder than he normally is. You wondered how far you could push him by just touching his wings.
Azriel’s thrusts began harsher, your touch pulling the beast you knew out of hibernation. “I’ve been waiting for you to come out,” you whisper, fingernails gently dragging down the membrane near the bones. Azriel lifted you off the counter, holding you tight as he continued to slam into you. His head was buried in your neck, teeth and tongue working in tandem to mark your pretty throat. When he felt you come again, he finally let go. His canines buried into your neck causing you to come again. The golden thread between you humming at the acceptance of the bond.
“Fuck,” you breathed out, exhaustion beginning to take over you. This was only the first night. You smiled at what this new life would bring you.
“Are you sure you’ll be fine?” Azriel asked, the worry evident in his eyes. It had been two weeks since you accepted the bond. You hadn't left the townhouse since you arrived, occupied by the frenzy. You'd lost count of how many times you fucked and you were ready to venture out in the city of starlight.
“I’ll be fine, my love. I’m only going to the market to buy food for us, and you have reports to finish for Rhysand,” you reminded him as he opened the door for you. He grumbled something about them not being due until the end of the week. You rolled your eyes and turned to face your mate with a stern but seductive look. He stopped his complaining, anticipating what you'll tell him.
“Well, if you finish them tonight you won't have to worry about them for the rest of the week. We’d have more time to continue our endeavors,” you declare. “Though, we do need to air out the place. It smells like the brothel in there,” You wouldn't say it out loud, but you were impressed at how you both managed to make such an intense scent of sex by yourselves.
“I will do that while you’re out. Be safe,” he said and you nodded, finally leaving to poke around your new surroundings. You noticed a community garden at the entrance of the street. You smiled at the various fae in the garden as you kept walking to the market.
“Beautiful day,” a male smiled at you as you made a stop at the bookstore. You hummed your agreement, taking in the male for a moment. His hair was snow white, and a tattoo ran down the side of his face. What stood out most was his scent. Pine and snow, something was familiar about it. That unsettled you.
“Have a nice day,” you said, and continued to the market. You managed to get everything on your list, keeping everything safe in a pocket of nothing until you got back to your mate. It was nice. The guard you normally kept up was looser, it helped knowing your mate was one of the most powerful warriors in history. Except, you didn't want to rely on him for being your savior. Yes, he did save you, but he also made you feel loved, wanted, and needed.
So you started to walk back home. A soft smile had replaced your normal mask of indifference. Cassian and Nesta were coming for dinner, and you thought of what you could make for the four of you. Perhaps a roast and some cookies for dessert.
“Beautiful day,” another male smiled at you. There was a darkness to him that felt familiar. His predatory smile had you on alert. He reminded you of death, and that was enough for you to keep moving again. You kept walking until the male with snow white hair came into view. The smile was gone, his face a mask of seriousness that reminded you of your mate. Your mate. The shadow that followed you understood and slithered away to get him.
The small wall connecting you and the High Lord crumbled down. His sight quickly entered your mind, confusion and fear flooding you.
“Move, or you'll regret harming me,” you threatened as a presence at your back and left finished circling you between the males.
“I don't think we’ll be doing that any time soon, daughter,” your breath hitched as the male. Daughter? He had to be joking. There was no chance that the male was telling the truth. Yet… each one felt familiar. Death was the most apparent, the High Lord’s curiosity was piqued as well.
Something sharp was injected into your neck. You yelled and grabbed the male’s wrist, breaking the bone over your knee before trying to win now away. Whatever was in the injection didn't let you go far. Rhysand was quickly pushed out of your mind as he arrived at your last known place. Azriel emerged from his shadows ready to attack, but there was nothing. Only you scent and four others, the most intense one being of pine and snow.
So… should this be a series? 👀
