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azrielbrainrot · 7 months ago

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Moonlit Shadows - Act I

Pairing: Azriel x F!Reader

Description: When tasked to find the once famed Temple of the Moon Goddess, Azriel only expected to find old, forgotten ruins if anything at all. He could have never imagined that not only would he find a temple but also someone who would change his life forever.

Tropes/Tags: Star Crossed Lovers (in a way), Forbidden Romance (kinda), Slow Burn, Mutual Pining, Strangers to Friends to Lovers, some Angst with a Happy Ending

Warnings: a bit of angst

Word Count: 12,4k

Rating: 18+ (this part is actually kinda chill)

Notes: Just as a warning (?) reader has white hair and white silvery eyes in this story but those are the only physical descriptions I will make, they're kind of part of her magic. Also when I started writing this I totally intended on it being a one-shot but the story got away from me and I decided to split it up into 3 parts. I really hope you enjoy!

You've been pacing in front of the temple's door ever since the sun set over the mountain, the warm rays slowly being replaced with the brilliant pale moonlight. You keep wringing your hands together and smoothing down any possible wrinkle on your dress, repositioning the diadem perched on your head to make sure it sits perfectly. It's not often you get visitors up in the temple, let alone any your Goddess went out of Her way to warn you about and gave clear instructions to help in any way you could. You can't quite distinguish if the anxiety building inside you is the result of excitement or wariness - possibly a healthy dose of both.

The last time someone climbed these steps had been almost a full decade ago. It was a quite short affair as well since the visitor only needed a book long forgotten in the temple's library. You'd read it multiple times before, and offered it without hesitation, prompting the traveler to thank you and immediately start descending the mountain, going on his way all the while muttering about finally having all the knowledge he needed to achieve his goal. That small interaction served as a reminder of your purpose in this temple, filled you with a sense of accomplishment you usually felt in such situations, but you've been alone in between these walls since then.

After almost four centuries you're more than used to the quiet, to the way your steps echoe in the grand empty space. The loneliness had been a more prominent companion, but even that had come and gone throughout the years. You had no place in the world, nor family or friends waiting for you anymore. All you had left was your duty to the temple. But you're still only fae and the longing for some company catches up to you every once in a while. At times you think you only want the reminder that you're still alive.

There wasn't much to do around the temple either, it magically gave you food and kept itself clean so you didn't even need to bother with that. You could recite every book in the library at this point and you found you weren't the best artist as you tried your hand at painting and sculpting, even music and dancing. The flowers around the temple seemed to grow effortlessly, not even needing you to tend to them either. Even keeping a journal proved inefficient as there was little to write down, the monotony of your life not interesting enough for such a thing. When tasked with guarding the temple, you would never have imagined boredom would end up being your biggest problem.

You still recall the day your hair started turning white and your eyes dulling, losing their color slowly until they turned into the silver, almost white color they were now, mirroring the moonlight. At first your parents thought it could be some disease or even a curse, they were scared for your health and safety beyond measure, but when the Goddess contacted you and sent you the amulet you now wear religiously around your neck, it guided you and your parents to this very temple hidden in the mountains of the Night Court. She then told you Herself what the fates had written for you, presenting you with an oath and sharing her power with you, making you the Keeper of the Moon Temple.

Everything had seemed impossible to believe at first, the time of the Gods had passed millenia ago, it was hard to find someone who could even name any of them anymore, you certainly couldn't at the time. So when you were told what your role in life was going to be you had been completely blindsided, not even knowing what to make of your new occupation, of being trusted with such an important task when you weren't even three decades old.

Truthfully, you expected at least a few people to show up every once in a while, asking for help or guidance. You even prepared yourself for there to be some threats to the temple, but things had been mostly peaceful and quiet, so quiet. You understand why guarding the temple is important, this type of knowledge and power can't ever fall into the wrong hands, the safety of the world depends on it, but sometimes you wonder what your life could have been like if you hadn't been chosen by fate to hold such a heavy burden by yourself.

Your heart stalls in your chest when you feel a presence approaching, used to feeling them pass by unannounced as the temple remains hidden in its protective spell. When it's clear this is the visitor the Goddess had warned you about, as they entered the wards seamlessly, you take a deep calming breath, adjusting the diadem one last time, and open the heavy doors, revealing the temple to the moonlight. As the stairs come into view, you step up to the threshold and clasp your hands together behind your back, waiting to be of help as your Goddess instructed you to.

Distractedly rehearsing your greeting, unused as it was, you almost miss the dark shadows swirling up the milky steps, passing by you and escaping to all corners of the temple before you have time to react. Your head snaps back to follow them, breaking the calming character you were falling into in preparation to fulfill your duty. Some of your power drips down to your fingertips, casting a white glow under your skin, as you study these shadows intently. Not finding any ill intent in them, as strange as they were, some of the tension leaves your body. They simply lay before you, more and more of these wispy shadows gathering together as they swirled around themselves, not paling even a fraction under the bright moonlight or your powers. Strange little things indeed.

You wonder for a moment if this was the visitor the Goddess had mentioned, not knowing what to make of it or how to approach such a situation. She had not specified if the visitor was fae, though you're not so sure how you would be able to help shadows. Before you could embarrass yourself in trying to speak to these creatures, the same presence you felt earlier makes itself known, much closer than before. Looking up at the starry sky, you find strong, dark wings carrying someone directly to the temple, a glimpse of blue shining over their dark form.

This was already the most interesting visitor you've ever had. You'd never had the pleasure of meeting any winged fae before, and, given their reaction to the fae approaching, you were confident the shadows were under their command. Those were definitely even rarer than winged fae - Shadowsingers, you remember them being called.

As they fly down closer to you and the temple, slowly letting the wind guide them, you feel a strange tug on your chest, and then another, this time strong enough that it makes you look down at yourself with furrowed eyebrows. Your confusion only deepens when you notice a bright string connected to your heart, raising your hand to try and touch it. Your fingers pass right through it, as if it wasn't there in the first place, and soon after you try catching it, the string disappears from sight.

You lay a hand down over your chest, feeling your heart beating under your palm. The string was invisible now, but you could still feel it tugging incessantly, as if urging you to look up. You follow its silent command, almost gasping out loud when you find the winged fae a lot closer than you had expected, catching him as he lands with a harsh tud on top of the steps, arms bracing out to maintain his balance as if he isn't quite used to landing yet. The shadows swirling at your feet rush to him, and a bewildered expression takes over his face, likely mirroring your own, as he stares at you, mouth agape.

Wide leathery wings stand behind him, open in a somewhat awkward angle as he stands frozen in place. As the moonlight filters through them you realize they're not quite black as they appeared before, the insides actually have a beautiful crimson hue to them. Your eyes seem to have a mind of their own as they keep cataloging his entire form, taking note of every detail as if it was crucial information. He was covered from head to toe in black leathers, you recognize it as an armor of sorts. It clung to his every muscle, showcasing them as much as it protected him from harm. You find the same blue light from before twinkling in the midst of all the black, studying it closer to find it came from gems scattered across his armor, you're almost certain they hold some of his magic somehow.

Moving up his neck, you find tan skin shining under the moonlight and black hair curling into his forehead softly, locks messy and a little damp from the flight. The stranger also had striking hazel eyes, and you find yourself struggling to not get lost in them, only bringing yourself to break eye contact when you notice the glittery string once more in the corner of your eye, only this time it's connected to his chest.

Your breath catches in your throat as you follow its path slowly, careful not to lose the thin thread once more, finding it leading back to your own heart. You feel another tug, prompting you to look back up at the male in front of you. A hand falls over your heart at the implication, right where you could feel the phantom string had tied itself. Yet another tug confirming your suspicions.

How could this be?

⭒.˚ ☾⭒.˚

Azriel wasn't expecting his evening to turn out like this when he was called to Rhys' office. While he knew there was going to be a mission of sorts, he never imagined it would involve a temple no one has ever heard of or a Goddess long forgotten. Even with Amren's knowledge and the old books she found corroborating her words, Azriel was still anticipating coming back to Velaris empty handed. He's flown over these same mountains at least a million times in the five centuries he's been alive, and never once has he noticed a temple or any signs of magic.

The woods under him looked completely untouched as far as he could tell, no one choosing to live so far from the neighboring towns, isolated between the trees and steep mountains. His shadows filtered through the woods in case he missed something from his high position, even if he thought this search was in vain, it didn't mean he wasn't going to give it his best to fulfill his High Lord's order. He felt almost naked without his shadows latching onto his body though, the single companion still perched on his shoulder in order to relay him information not giving him nearly enough coverage to feel at ease when he was so far from home.

Mission and discomfort aside, the wind felt heavenly hitting his skin on this warm summer evening. It had been a while since he was able to fly for this long without dreading his destination as it usually meant he was visiting the Illyrian mountains, the Hewn City or a much more gruesome mission than the one he found himself in at the moment. It also feels good to step away from the full houses he found himself in nowadays. As much as he loved his family, Azriel had always valued his alone time and it was getting harder to find himself completely alone in the midst of missions and the ever growing inner circle.

As he was flying over the edge of the mountain, Azriel was getting ready to make the trip back and throw a very satisfying “I told you so” at his brother's face when his shadows suddenly disappeared right before his eyes. The abruptness of it made him panic for a few seconds, clapping his wings so he was hovering in the same place and was able to study the space ahead of him, trying to feel for any type of ward or shield but coming up empty. He could still feel his shadows, and knew they were alright given how calm the remaining one was as it sat on his shoulder and simply urged him forward, as if confused why he had stopped in the first place.

Azriel trusted his shadows blindly, they had never steered him wrong after all, and so he did as he was told and slowly started moving forward once again. After living for five hundred years surrounded by magic, there isn't much that can surprise the shadowsinger, but he can safely say he's never seen anything like this. He felt his body pass through some sort of gateway, one that went unnoticed by him until now, and as he did his surroundings began changing as if they had only been a mirage before.

In between the trees a path carved in white stone could now be seen, glinting under the moonlight in complete contrast to the rest of the dark woods. As his eyes followed this path, going up stairs of the same stone carved into the side of the mountain, he found a white temple sitting right at the top. It wasn't a huge building by any means, but the white eerie glow it emitted made it impossible to miss had it not been the spell covering it - one that would make the one who kept Velaris safe for centuries pale in comparison - and keeping it hidden from the world and unwanted eyes.

Amren had been right after all, something that happens more often than he would ever care to admit. The Goddess of the Moon still had at least a temple left in this world, leaving it behind when She took to the sky. Not much is known about the old Gods, but Azriel, born and raised in the Night Court, felt himself relax as he looked up at the moon shining above him, not believing this Goddess could be anything but benevolent. She had watched him fly over from Velaris after all, it almost felt like he was guided here.

The entire temple was made of white stone - it appeared to be the same type of stones used for the path and stairs leading up to it, only more polished. There were silver highlights carved into the walls and columns, these glowed with an intensity Azriel had never seen. Most of the roof was a huge skylight, likely so the moon could illuminate Her temple and Her followers could bask in Her brilliant light.

Given the color scheme of the entire building, his shadows were easy enough to spot, which would have been a big problem had he decided on a more covert operation when coming to the temple, he was more than glad he came here in peace. His little companions seemed perfectly content as they swirled around and over themselves right in front of the temple's doors, a few steps from a figure completely clad in white.

Even after finding the temple where he had only seen trees and shrubs before, he couldn't help but feel even more surprised that there was someone inside it. A sudden spark of magic has the shadowsinger moving faster, a gasp catching in his throat when he sees bright, pale light coming from the figure's palms. Even this wasn't enough to send the shadows that would be at the receiving hand of it into alarm, something curious on its own as they were usually as suspicious and careful as their master.

Azriel was already within earshot when the person in front of him decided his shadows posed no threat and the white light disappeared from her hands. At first glance she might have looked like a regular high fae female, but there was a different kind of power flowing through her, as shown by the strange way this light magic manifested itself, something Azriel had never felt before.

Upon flying down closer, his feet almost touching the top of the steps in front of the temple, he realizes she had not been wearing a white hood or veil as he initially thought but her hair was completely white. There was an unnatural element to it as each strand shone under the moonlight, almost rivaling it in its intensity. The floor length dress she wore was of the same color, made of a light, breathable fabric, almost translucent in certain areas, swishing softly in the faint breeze. She had not looked up at him yet, seemingly intrigued as she watched her own chest. Perhaps looking at the pendant she wore around her neck, the magic coming from it could almost be seen in its intensity.

Azriel took this moment to take her in, not knowing what to say since he was the one possibly trespassing. She was absolutely gorgeous, truly mesmerizing in her beauty and demeanor. It was almost impossible to believe she was real, standing right in front of him and not a Goddess walking his dreams. For a moment Azriel wonders if this is truly the Goddess, if She never left the land of the mortals as it was once believed, instead keeping herself safely hidden in these uninhabited mountains, but when she looks up from her necklace, eyes falling on him for the first time, all thoughts evaporate from his mind. White, silvery eyes meet hazel and a sudden rush of inexplicable feelings hit him right in the chest, squeezing his heart tight and taking his breath away. It felt as if the world had broken apart and put itself together, as if everything finally made sense. The only thing he could make sense of was one word, swirling around in his mind and completely taking over every cell on his body. Mate. You were his mate.

In his stupor, Azriel forgets he was still up in the air, wings freezing along with the rest of his body and sending him falling towards the ground. Thankfully, he hadn't been too high up, and was still able to land on his feet, knees only buckling under his weight slightly as he steadied himself. This had to be the most ungraceful landing he's performed since his brothers were training him between giggles and harmless teasing when he first joined the Illyrian camps. If he wasn't so surprised and his brain was able to formulate a single thought, he would be cringing at the fact that you had just witnessed it, his mate had witnessed it.

It takes several moments before he starts catching on to the situation, the ringing in his ears subsiding and the rest of the world re-emerging around you. He hadn't even noticed his shadows had returned to him, ecstatic for their master finally found his equal. Azriel tries to school his features in an attempt to keep at least some dignity, in fear of coming on too strong as well, especially since it seemed you were in the same predicament as him, a curious but stunned expression locked in your beautiful face as you studied him. His stupid Illyrian senses make him flare out his wings a little before he has the chance to fully take control of his body. When your gaze finds his once more, his heart stalls in his chest before speeding up at an alarming rate. You haven't even spoken a single word to him, but his heart already sang for yours.

⭒.˚ ☾⭒.˚

The oath you made before your Goddess rushes into your head as you study the handsome male in front of you. How could this be possible? The fates had decided your life lied within the temple long before you were born, so why give you a mate? A bond like this is extremely rare, you'd never seen one in your entire lifetime, albeit you lived isolated from the world for most of it. Still, this was something only a few were blessed with, a bond stronger than what mortal minds could even comprehend, so why waste it on you? Could the fates and the Mother be this cruel?

You can't even bring yourself to hope he didn't notice the brilliant bond forming between you - an angry twist pulling at your heartstrings when you dare to think of hiding it - considering the expression on his face and his silence, it seems he's already more than aware of it. All it took was a single glance and it had fallen into place for both of you.

In the midst of the rushing thoughts invading your brain, you try to remember what you've read about mating bonds. There was a book talking about them in the library, of this much you were sure, but its contents were evading your racing mind.

Gaze falling to the floor, trying to sober up from what you imagine to be one of the most intense occurrences anyone could go through, you almost miss the step he takes towards you. The surprise of it makes you flinch slightly, but it was enough for him to notice and take the same step back, wings coiling up tightly to his back and shadows moving to cover him almost completely, excitement wiped off his face and replaced with a hurt expression.

Your gaze falls on him once more, a self loathing feeling crawling up your throat and making you want to beg for his forgiveness on your knees at the thought that you put that expression on his face. This bond would take some getting used to, in what world would you kneel before a male you've just met. Still, you didn't want him to think he scared or even disgusted you in any way, mate or no mate, that was extremely rude.

You clear your throat softly, remembering the weight of your role in this temple and trying desperately to fall back into character, hoping the familiarity of your duties will bring your mind some peace and help you get through this moment.

“Forgive me, it isn't often that we get visitors,” his entire body tenses up even further at your words, but it relaxes as you keep speaking, “I welcome you to the last Temple of the Moon. I'm the keeper and sole habitant of this temple. I've been tasked to keep it safe from any possible threats, but also do my best to help anyone the Goddess deems worthy of being shown the way, just as you have been.”

You try not to look too long in his general direction in fear of getting lost in his eyes once more, but that's close to impossible when you're talking to him and he might be the most beautiful male you've ever encountered. Taking a step to the side, you hold out a hand towards the door, inviting him into the temple, something you should have already done.

He nods his head once after watching your outstretched arm for a moment longer, and then makes his way inside slowly. As he passes by, you can't help but breathe in his scent, it feels intoxicating and it takes every bit of strength in your body to not let your mind linger on how well it would smell mixed with yours, until you couldn't point out where one ended and the other began.

A gasp pulls you out of your betraying thoughts, a smile finding its way to your lips, knowing the sight was making him speechless. It always sparks a little pride in you when someone gazes upon the temple for the first time. Even after living here for centuries, this temple's beauty still takes your breath away. The entire floor was made of replandescent white stones, silver gems weave highlights into them, creating patterns across the entire room, maps of constellations and lunar phases, and giving it a particular glow of their own. They were illuminated by the giant skylight making up most of the ceiling, as to allow both the moon and sunlight to enter. You've tried identifying the materials used in this construction before but ended up coming up empty. It seems the precious stones and gems used no longer grew in this world, perhaps they never did.

At the far corner of the room there was an altar, one without statue or offering table, but an altar all the same. Even when She walked this world, your Goddess never accepted gifts or ever allowed anyone to replicate her image because even that could end up leaving traces of her power behind. The altar looks empty right now, and you catch yourself wishing he could be here to see it on a full moon, when the moon rays fall right over it and you can communicate with and receive any orders the Goddess might have for you. The entire room holds an even more intense glow during that night of the month as well, you're sure he would find it fascinating.

Making your way around him, careful not to step too close or accidentally touch his wings, you catch sight of his awe stricken face, tan skin glowing beautifully under the moonlight. A small, fond smile appears on his face when his gaze falls back on yours, and you almost curse the Mother for the challenge she just put in front of you. His beauty was truly otherworldly, it rivaled every shiny gem and stone in this room, maybe even the moon herself. How were you supposed to act normally knowing this was your mate?

“I've never seen anything like this before,” he admits softly, eyes never straying from yours. The sound of his voice makes you pause, it feels strangely familiar, like something you've been waiting to hear your entire life. There's a curious kind of magic around mating bonds, you don't know how it's possible for someone you've just met to already have so much power over you, even when you're trying your best to ignore him.

“I still find myself at a loss for words when gazing at this room as well,” you agree, wanting to cringe at the bashful expression you know has fallen over your face. Your plan of keeping a detached demeanor while fulfilling your duties was doomed from the start. You clasp your hands behind your back before continuing in what you hope is a professional voice. “The Goddess warned me of your arrival and left orders for me to help you in any way I can. If you tell me what you seek, I will give you what you came here for as long as it's within my abilities.”

His eyebrows furrow slightly at your words. “How did you know I was coming?”

“The Goddess knows more than us mortals will ever be able to grasp,” you explain as vaguely as possible while hopefully not raising any suspicions. There's not a single cell in your body that thinks he's untrustworthy, but they're incredibly biased, and the inner workings of your role as the Moon's keeper must be protected.

He seems satisfied enough with your answer, but there's a different kind of air about him now. As if remembering he doesn't know you, and has found himself at your mercy.

“You haven't told me what you came for,” you remind him. If you sit in silence for long your thoughts will start drifting again.

“Right,” he clears his throat, a pinkish tint covering the tips of his rounded ears. “I come on behalf of the High Lord and Lady of the Night Court.” Your eyebrows raise at this, not expecting him to be such an important person. “One of the High Lady's sisters has been turned into a seer recently, and given that she wasn't even born fae, these powers have proven extremely hard to control.”

You've heard the story of the human who saved the fae from the evil clutches of Amarantha, and her sisters who were tragically thrown in the cauldron by King Hybern and turned into fae against their will. Your Goddess had even told you one of the sisters vengefully stole her powers from the cauldron, and the other was gifted seer abilities. Given the circumstances in which this all went down, it's understandable that she has been having trouble controlling her powers. Being a seer is an exceptionally heavy burden, and she's still so young too.

“We have some books that might be able to help, both in controlling one's power and pulling an entranced fae out of any visions or dreams they've found themselves stuck in. Was that what you were hoping for?”

“Yes,” he admits, apparently relieved at having found what he was looking for, “We found texts mentioning the followers of the Moon Goddess often had prophetic dreams, and wrote entire manuals on how to navigate them. Since Elain wasn't born with these powers these books seemed perfect to help her, and so the High Lady sent me searching for them.” You nod, motioning for him to follow you as you turn and start walking to the library, already making a mental list of all the books that might help his friend.

Even lost in thought, you sense him stopping in his steps as you're walking down the corridor, overwhelmingly aware of his every move as you were. This prompts you to turn around and face him in question, only to find him watching you in amazement.

“You're breathtaking,” he blurts out before he can catch himself, making heat rush up your neck and settle over your entire face. He looks away embarrassed for a moment, one of his shadows crawling up his neck and over his ear, before looking back at you with a bashful look. “I'm sorry. I just- Is it normal for you to glow like this?”

This power has been a part of you for so long, you almost forget about the way your hair lights up in the dark, an aura surrounding you as well, giving you an overall ethereal glow. “Yes, I harness power from the moon and She glows so…” you trail off, biting your lip as he keeps studying you. “The library is right up ahead,” you add, turning your back to him once more so you can gather your thoughts for the nth time since he stepped foot into this temple.

As you navigate through the familiar rows of shelves your heart finally calms, easily picking up the pertinent books. You can't help but keep watching him out of the corner of your eye, not out of suspicion, but curiosity for his every reaction. He seems content with following after you as he watches the decorations and studies the books sitting on the shelves, not once asking you what you're giving him, simply carrying the books you hand him. It makes you wonder if he usually trusts everyone this easily or if it's something reserved for you.

When you hand him the last book, you move to the back of the room slowly, the place where you keep some important magical amulets and tools, waiting on any sign from the Goddess forbidding you from lending him any of them. He comes to stand beside you then, likely noticing your hesitation.

“There is also an artifact that I think could help your friend,” you start, picking up the bracelet in question and holding it up as you explain its power, “This can help numb one's powers.”

“Like faebane?”

You shake your head, “No, this is completely painless, but it's vital that it is only used when she's finding herself lost in her visions and you're struggling to pull her out. This is not to be used as a crutch. If she used it to suppress her powers too often, she might never be able to take control of her full powers and this bracelet could become something she can't live without.” He nods, hopefully understanding the gravity behind your words. “It's also extremely rare and dangerous so I ask that, as soon as she has a better grasp of her abilities, I would say within a few years at most, this bracelet is delivered back to the temple so it can be kept safe.”

“What happens if we don't return it?”

The question makes you tense up and close your hands around the bracelet, your voice coming out clipped as you answer him. “I'm not entirely sure as no one has ever attempted something so foolish as long as I've been here, but those types of transgressions are handled by the Goddess so I imagine you would not be able to keep it even if you tried.”

“I wasn't considering keeping it. I was merely curious,” he rushes to explain, sincerity dripping from every word and making you relax a bit.

“Curious?”

“If you would be the one to come for it,” he confessed.

A warm tingly feeling spreads through your body as you digest his words. Would he seriously consider stealing from a God just for a chance to see you again? Even if it meant being at the end of your wrath? Can you be confident the bond wouldn't drive you to such extremes as well?

“I can't leave the temple unattended,” you murmur, much too softly for your own good. Your emotions are running all over the place, it almost seems like they're fighting to see which one will take control of your body, and unfortunately, you have an inkling as to which is winning as his scent overwhelms your senses once again.

“Of course,” he says, taking a small step closer to you, shadows mostly retreating from his body, “Forgive me. I didn't mean to upset you.” Must his voice sound like a cup of hot chocolate after a day spent playing in the snow?

It doesn't help that you've been in this temple for so long that you can't even recall the last time someone touched you, not even sexually, no one has so much as held your hand or hugged you in decades, ever since your parents passed. Looking at him, you know you could get lost in his arms, your head resting against his strong chest.

It's only when you squeeze the bracelet too hard, a bit of its power zapping through you, that you're finally able to pull yourself from the beautiful hazel of his eyes, and your consuming thoughts. Clearing your throat and handing him the bracelet. He only hesitates a second, likely pulling himself out of the moment as well, before carefully taking it from your hand, conscious of not letting his skin touch yours, much to your dismay.

You can feel your eyes widen at the sight of his scarred hands before you have a chance to school your features. The armor he wears and the sword strapped between his wings tell you he's a warrior, but you can't imagine what could have happened for this injury to scar like this. Someone employed directly under the High Lord must have access to the best healers in the court. Suddenly, anger bubbles in the pit of your stomach at the thought that someone dared to hurt your mate.

This time he's the one to pull away from you abruptly, shadows returning to their master, and that infuriating string tugging at your heart as he does. It makes you want to reach out and hold his hand, reassure him somehow, but thankfully your brain catches up to the thought that might be overstepping, and so you simply nod at him and ask him to follow you back to the temple's main room once more.

The walk back is filled with a heavy atmosphere, not only considering your oversight, but also at the realization that you must send him away now, likely never to see him again. If you're lucky he will be the one to return the bracelet, and you will be able to see him in a few years. The thought makes you slow your pace.

It's only when you reach the heavy doors, that you allow yourself to turn to him, his face reflecting your feelings perfectly. You briefly consider mentioning the bond, at least to make sure he feels it too, but you fail to see what good that would bring. You still can't leave the temple and, now that he's gotten what he came for, he will not be able to return either. This will be the last time you see each other, regardless of your feelings.

He studies your face carefully, perhaps wondering the same. It seems he reaches a conclusion as he speaks up, “Can you tell me your name?” He sounded hopeful, but somehow scared of asking, as if denying him could hurt him beyond comparison.

You whisper your name hesitantly, knowing this isn't just another stranger, this was your mate. He repeats it, tasting it on his tongue as he stares at you with an intensity you almost couldn't bear, but were unable to look away from.

“My name is Azriel,” he offers willingly, like he wanted nothing more than to hear you say his name, and who were you to deny him this when you were already withholding so much? You repeat his name the same way he did yours, the impertinent little silver string connecting you and your mate reappearing as the delicious word left your lips.

You keep repeating it in your mind as he thanks you for your help and you watch him take flight, hesitation written in his entire body language as his wings slowly carry him over the clouds, looking back down multiple times as if fighting himself to keep moving. You repeat it once more out loud, when you can't see him anymore and you know he's out of earshot. This time his name is followed by a broken whisper of an apology.

⭒.˚ ☾⭒.˚

The flight back to Velaris was one of the hardest ones Azriel has ever attempted, noticeably taking him much longer than it would have under normal circumstances. He has had to fly back home on an injured body and even injured wings, carrying another with him – Cassian of all people – and he's had to fly through the most extreme weather, heavy rain, snow and the torrid desert sun. All of those things had seemed easy compared to what he was experiencing now with a well rested body.

Both Rhysand and Cassian had mentioned how the mating bond made them act differently, how it seemed like it was taking control of their body and pushing them to act a certain way, but he didn't expect it to be this bad. His every instinct was screaming at him to turn around and go back for his mate.

He even had to take a break along the way, after watching the temple disappear right before his eyes, hidden inside the spell that had kept it safe for millenia. As the sight of the brilliant building was replaced with trees and rocks, the only thing going through Azriel's mind was that he might never see his mate again, the mere thought sending his heart into disarray. He spends a good while sitting under the moonlight, looking ahead at where he knows she is, while his shadows do their best to comfort him. Trying desperately to wrap his head around everything that happened, and how much his life changed in such a short time.

If he had been given a warning, a chance to prepare himself, then maybe he would have approached things differently, but getting blindsided by a mating bond wasn't in his plans. In fact, it had been a good while since he had stopped hoping for a mate.

He had longed for one most of his life. For someone that not only was his equal, but was also able to connect to him in ways only those who have experienced such a thing can begin to comprehend. A person that would accept him no matter how wretched he was, how much blood he has had to wash off his hands for the sake of his court. Someone he would love with every breath in him, even if it ruined him completely.

So many don't truly believe in mating bonds until they see them in front of them, but Azriel always did. He'd seen the worst this world had to offer and knew that if there was such darkness, then its counterpart would be equally as strong. And what could be stronger and brighter than love?

It wasn't until his brothers found mates of their own within a year of each other that Azriel started truly wishing for one though. Before, it was nothing more than a dream, just as he had dreamt of flying when he was locked in his cell, of seeing his mother when his cruel father kept him away from her, but seeing the happiness the mating bond had brought his brothers and how amazing the connection they shared with their mates was, he couldn't help longing for the same.

That was until enough years passed, everyone around him happily mated or in loving relationships while he stood by and watched from the same dark corner of the room. Azriel had convinced himself he wasn't worthy of a mate, even now after seeing you he can't help but feel the same. You were perfect in every aspect of the word, a beacon of light even kept away in your temple, while Azriel was nothing more than a monster. The feared Spymaster of the Night Court. Always ready to drench his hands in blood for the sake of his family and his home, always covered in shadows. A lesser fae, Illyrian of all kinds.

You deserve someone better, of that much he's sure, but the Mother had decided you were equals, and Azriel didn't mind doing his best to be worthy of you even if he had to work for it for the rest of his life. He's been waiting to love someone for so long, has been saving all of that inside him, and he wants nothing more than to shower you in affection, in reverence. Except it didn't seem like he would have the chance.

For most of your interaction, Azriel was convinced you had also felt the bond forming between you two, but he couldn't be sure, not when you hadn't even mentioned it or alluded to it before showing him out. Maybe he had read too much into things, let his own feelings bleed into his analysis, or maybe you simply didn't want a mating bond, not with someone like him. It didn't seem like you knew of him, but who's to say you haven't heard of the awful things he's done, and decided you didn't want anything to do with a monster like him.

The thought had his shadows rushing to soothe him once more, whispering vehement denials of his unworthiness as they covered him. Unfortunately, they wouldn't answer any of his questions about you, claiming it wasn't their place to explain your feelings or situation. In a way they were right, but that left him with no idea of what to think.

Azriel sat on that mountain, mulling over everything that had happened until the first rays of the sun started rising over the horizon. It wasn't until Rhysand reached out to check on him, worried at his spymaster's unusual tardiness, that he resumed his trip back to Velaris, this time passing through shadows along the way to cut his time shorter, hoping his brother hadn't caught glimpse of the heartbreakingly beautiful female consuming his every thought. Trying desperately to clear his mind as the cool wind hit his face, preparing for the meeting that was waiting for him as soon as he got home.

“So the temple truly exists?” Rhysand had been as skeptical about the temple's existence as Azriel, finding it hard to believe that such a thing could be hidden in his own court without his knowledge.

Azriel nods and sets the books you've given him on the dark desk, dropping the bracelet on top of the pile carefully, trying not to be reminded of the way you had handed it to him, or focus on your scent still clinging to it faintly. Shaking himself out of it and letting the spymaster mask fall over his face, he starts explaining how he had found the temple behind a powerful spell, going into detail about the building itself, the keeper who had helped him and the books and bracelet given to him, including the warnings you gave him, making sure to stress the fact that the bracelet was to be returned as soon as Elain gained enough control of her abilities.

“You really didn't feel the wards around the temple?”

“No, if my shadows hadn't disappeared right before my eyes I wouldn't have even noticed they were there.” So much had happened that Azriel almost forgot how peculiar those wards were, in fact all the magic present in the temple and in you had felt different.

“And this keeper?” His heart speeds up treacherously, enough so that Rhys gets a curious glint in his purple eyes, undoubtedly noticing it. “Tell me about her.”

A soft scowl takes over his features, a strange possessiveness creeping up before has the chance to quell it. “She was waiting for me at the entrance. Apparently the Moon Goddess warned her there was a visitor coming.”

“She can talk to the Goddess?”

“It seems so,” Azriel hesitates for a moment, “Her magic is different from any fae I've seen. Her hair is completely white, and her eyes aren't much darker, maybe a bit more silver. There was a certain aura about her, her entire being seemed to glow beautifully under the moonlight, even more when we moved inside. She truly looked otherworldly. In that moment, she looked even more radiant than the stars and the moon combined.”

A moment of silence falls over the room as everyone digests Azriel's words, tiny gasps leaving Feyre and Elain, who had been out of it for most of the conversation as a result of yet another one of her visions, and Nesta's jaw dropping significantly as they were not used to hearing the Shadowsinger muse about someone like this. Unfortunately, the others have seen him drunk enough when he was younger, so it wasn't as much of a surprise.

“What was that, brother?” Cassian's teasing voice cuts through his thoughts, “I thought you didn't resort to poetry.”

Azriel looks up at this, heat rising to his cheeks at the amused looks shared by everyone in the room, realizing he had lost himself in his descriptions of you, unable to keep them as clinical as he normally would, especially when it came to a mission.

“I just meant her magic manifests in a way I've never seen before,” he finishes lamely, one of his shadows oh so helpfully crawling up his neck to notify him that no one seemed to believe his excuse.

“Right, her magic,” Nesta mocks, suddenly interested in hearing about the temple after focusing on the books that would be helping her sister.

Thankfully, Amren didn't care about whether he found the keeper beautiful or not, and wanted to keep the conversation on track, a bored expression on her face as she pulled the attention back to her and the topic at hand.

“You said she called herself the keeper of the temple, correct?”

Azriel nods at her while checking his mental walls just in case, lest he also let them fall in his moment of distraction, and his High Lord or Lady saw something they shouldn't. He can only guess what feelings and thoughts would be attached to your image in his mind. If they saw this he would never hear the end of it.

“I believe she not only can communicate with the Goddess but also shares some of her powers. It's hard to determine just how powerful she truly is,” the ancient one turns to Rhys and Feyre, a serious look taking over her features, “She could become a threat to us.”

“She's not a threat,” his voice cuts through the room, protecting his mate instinctively.

Rhysand raises one annoyingly perfect eyebrow at Azriel's sudden outburst. Some of the amusement still lingers around the room, but the anger behind his statement was undeniable, creating some tension and confusion between everyone. It's not often they see him so on edge, to the point of raising his voice at Amren of all people.

He tries to calm himself as much as possible, knowing this is a symptom of the mating bond and that his brothers and sister-in-laws might be able to figure that out, and tries to explain himself once again.

“I was the one who talked to her, there were no ill intentions when she guided me through the temple and gave me the books. She even added more books than we wanted or knew existed, and the bracelet. She helped us willingly.”

Amren studies him through narrowed eyes for a moment longer before finishing her earlier thought. “Even if she had any ill intentions, keepers are bound to their temples and can't physically leave, so there wouldn't be much to worry about.”

It feels like the world stops when Azriel hears these words. Every little hope he was clinging to in regards to your bond escaped him in that moment. If what Amren said was true, you couldn't leave the temple, even if you wanted to come and find him, and he couldn't find the temple unless he needed something and the Goddess showed him the way. He could very well never see you again, or only once more, when Elain got better and he had to deliver the books and bracelet back to the temple. Was that why you ignored the bond? Because you knew there was no hope for the two of you?

Azriel spends the rest of the meeting in a sort of trance, barely able to listen to what his family was talking about, or even register what they decided when it came to helping Elain use the books. It was impossible to focus on anything when it felt like his life, a dream that had barely started was crumbling right before his eyes. He only tunes back in when the meeting is over and most of the Inner Circle starts leaving, hoping he can at least go rest from his flight, take a long bath and find a quiet place to be alone and digest these life changing last few hours.

He was already on his feet, dragging his exhausted body to the door when Rhys called out his name, making him turn around in question. “There's something else we need to discuss.” His brother was always the most perceptive at the worst times. The last thing Azriel wants to do right now is discuss his miserable fate with anyone.

Everyone filters out the room then, even Feyre who drops a kiss on her mate's cheek before following her sister out - a gesture he's more than used to witnessing but bears a different weight today - leaving the two brothers alone in the quiet office. Azriel doesn't move from his spot, standing in the middle of the room with crossed arms as Rhysand studies him, daring him to start the conversation, secretly praying he simply has another mission to send him on instead of the conversation he's almost sure is about to start.

“Are you going to tell me what happened with this keeper?”

Azriel has to physically stop himself from sighing. Why couldn't the Mother let him have a moment after everything that has already happened in the last few hours?

“Nothing happened,” he sounds defensive even to himself, his mind too preoccupied to try and mask his emotions, “She gave me the books and then I left.” This much was true, unfortunately.

Rhys simply hums, always sounding irritatingly sure of himself. “So you wouldn't mind showing me your memories of last night, right? I'd like to take a good look at the temple. It seemed quite intriguing,” he pauses for a second, head tilting a fraction to the side, mouth forming into a smirk, “and so did she.”

A snarl escapes Azriel's mouth at his brother's words. Even if he knew he was being baited, controlling this damned bond was impossible right now. Rhysand's smirk only deepens, like a predator who successfully lured its prey, since his brother gives him the exact reaction he was expecting with that little comment. No wonder Azriel has to work so hard as his Spymaster, it's a miracle Rhys has lived this long.

“You look very defensive of a female you've only exchanged one simple conversation with.”

“Like I said before,” he says, that snarl not quite leaving his lips no matter how hard he tries, “She helped us without a second thought, even more than we expected. I just don't understand why everyone keeps insisting that she might be a threat.”

“I didn't say she was a threat, I simply asked you to show me what she looked like.” The High Lord taps his purple painted nails on the table, waiting for a response. When it becomes clear that Azriel isn't taking the bait, Rhys keeps going, “Can't blame me for being curious of how this keeper beautifully glows under the moonlight. She looked otherworldly, you said?”

The thought of assassinating his loving brother crosses Azriel's mind. He doesn't even know what to respond knowing those were his own words, and any reaction would be amplified by the mating bond. The High Lord had him right where he wanted him.

As he keeps staring at his brother, shadows climbing up his body until most of him is covered from those intense violet eyes, Rhysand's expression changes, a somewhat defeated look replacing the earlier amusement as he accepts that he'll have to pry the truth from his spymaster.

“Azriel, I've known you for over five centuries. I can tell when you're hiding something from me,” his face and tone turning even more serious as he continues, “I also know what a fresh mating bond feels like, the emotions it evokes in us.”

Azriel stares at his brother for another moment, before realizing there was no need to try and pretend he wasn't right, letting out a sigh before sitting down in the chair across from him defeatedly, shadows settling while his wings drooped, enough to touch the floor.

“If you already know, why are you asking me about it?”

“I didn't expect this to be your reaction,” he says, thoroughly studying Azriel's face. “I don't understand why you wouldn't be happy. I know it can be scary, but you've always wanted a mate, Az.”

“There's nothing to be happy about.”

Rhys simply rolls his eyes, “I know a bit more about mating bonds than you do. Trust me there's a lot to be happy about.”

His temper rises at this, emotions still not having settled - he's starting to wonder if they ever will. Even his shadows were becoming overstimulated, not knowing how to soothe their singer in these circumstances.

“Didn't you hear what Amren said? She can't leave the temple, she's bound to it, and I can't go back there since it's hidden under whatever spell that was,” the words almost caught in his throat, “I'm never seeing her again.”

Saying it out loud makes the whole situation unbearably real. It's not often Azriel sees himself in conversation such as these, always one to ignore his feelings for as long as possible, and then isolating himself when they become too much, but his brother knows him too well, as he said before, and was prying out everything too easily.

“I don't even know if she wanted this,” he finds himself whispering.

“Why wouldn't she?”

Azriel swallows all the self-pity, the unworthiness he felt when it came to you, or anyone else really. Diving into these feelings would lead them into a different conversation, one he wasn't sure he could handle, much less right now, and so he opts for the simpler answer.

“She didn't mention the bond once, she was ignoring it – if she even felt it at all,” he leans back and runs his hand through his hair, “my feelings were muddled the whole time I was there so I can't even know for sure.”

“You didn't tell her you were her mate either,” Rhysand reminds him.

Would things have gone a different way if he had? Or would you simply let him down as soon as he brought it up? Did it even matter? Would he be able to survive your rejection?

“She told you the temple showed itself for the people who needed it, right?” Azriel looks up at his brother, nodding. “Seems to me like you need to talk to her.”

⭒.˚ ☾⭒.˚

You're not entirely sure what one is supposed to do after finding their Mother-blessed mate, and then proceed to send them on their way, possibly to never return. Not being able to get even a wink of sleep and spending the next few hours searching your library for any information on mating bonds seems appropriate though. There wasn't anything written in these books that you didn't already know about mating bonds: extreme attraction, a connection of emotions, feelings of primal possessiveness, the possibility for a love unlike any other.

There was no mention of the silver string you'd seen tied around both of your hearts, but the bond seems to manifest itself differently for everyone, and the magic your Goddess has poured into you was peculiar to say the least. Even Azriel might not have seen or felt it manifest the same way you did, but that doesn't mean it's not there. Denying it is out of the picture at this point.

The section about rejecting mating bonds caught your eye, but it quickly soured your mood. It seems there's no way to reject a mating bond and hope for life to ever go back to normal, especially for males as they would always feel like a part of them was missing. The book didn't exactly go into depth on the topic – there can't be too many other idiots thinking of turning down a mating bond, – so it didn't mention anything about just ignoring the bond. Would it just fizzle out until you could barely feel anything, or would it end up with the same effects of a rejected bond? As much as you knew this bond was doomed from the start, you didn't want to convict Azriel to a lifetime of madness, or even worse. It was bad enough he couldn't get a mate out of you.

After your mood deflates at the bleak prospect for your future, and the sun has already replaced the moon, you decide to indulge yourself for a moment. Since your encounter had been so brief, you ended up not finding out too much about Azriel aside from his name, and, as much as there was a voice nagging at the back of your mind, warning you that trying to learn more about your mate won't help you in successfully ignoring the bond at all, you're still only fae and curiosity got the best of you. How could you not be curious about your mate?

You'd heard stories about a shadowsinger working under the High Lord of the Night Court, but you didn't know if that was him as the High Lord had changed since then. If it was though, this would make him a truly important figure for this court, country even. You can't help but feel proud at the thought.

Your search for information on Shadowsingers soon proves fruitless, not being able to find much else aside from their abilities to communicate with shadows, rare as they are, so you move onto researching winged fae instead, in hopes of finding out what kind he is. There are various kinds, this much you know, but for some reason you've always imagined them all to have feathered wings. It's at times like these that you wished you had traveled more when you were younger.

Most of the day is spent like this, tucked into your favorite sofa in the library, the temple refilling your teacup and offering you little snacks as you search for any bit of information that could help you understand who Azriel is. A tug on your silver string finally pulls you out of the moment, body immediately going into alert as you feel your mate nearing. These feelings are entirely too abstract, there's no way of knowing if he's flying over the temple or simply a bit closer than he had been an hour prior - which could still be halfway across the Night Court. You'd also found in one of the books that mates could attempt reaching out to each other through the bond, the descriptions of the resulting feeling appearing quite similar to what you were experiencing at the moment.

You try to ignore it and carry on reading your book on wings - the irony not lost on you - but the string keeps tugging incessantly, even more firmly now, and you suddenly get the feeling that he was actually close, possibly even trying to reach out at the same time or following the bond.

Had he come looking for you? You told him the temple kept itself hidden unless the visitor needed something from within these walls and the Goddess allowed them passage. He had to know that he wouldn't find anything more than trees and shrubs in this forest, the temple keeping itself out of sight even if he had been here before and knew its exact location, such were the wards around this place.

Putting away the book and sitting up on the sofa, you wonder what you should do. There's no way of communicating with him, and you won't be able to let him in, no matter how desperate you were since that decision was not your own to make. Your role was to protect the temple, but you knew he wasn't a threat either. Were you to simply stand by and watch while he looked for you, only to be met with silence? The Mother seems to have a twisted sense of humor.

As you were preparing yourself mentally for what you assumed were going to be a tough few hours, you feel the unmistakable sign of someone passing through the barrier, prompting you to stand up and winnow straight to the main hall, opening the front doors in a rush, only to find a familiar dark figure waiting for you.

If you weren't witnessing it with your own eyes, if your heart wasn't beating at that rhythm that seemed reserved solely for him, you wouldn't have believed this to be true. Your feet move of their own accord, carrying you towards your mate as he stands at the entrance to your temple, a contagiously hopeful expression on his face as he watches you move to him.

“How did you get here?” You can't help the dumb question, not being able to understand what is happening in the midst of your surprise and every other feeling that came with his presence.

“I needed to talk to you,” he explains in a breathy tone, smiling down at you like he wasn't sure if this would have worked either, if he was actually going to be able to find you.

The Goddess showed him the way, if She hadn't he wouldn't have been able to find you, even with any shadowsinger trick he might have had up his sleeve. Could She know he's your mate? She had been the one to warn you of his arrival the day before after all.

You're still trying to gather your thoughts when he continues, skipping over all the pleasantries as if he couldn't keep the words in any longer.

“You're my mate.”

Hearing the word coming from his mouth makes your heart soar, a tingling feeling spreading over your entire body as if lava was now running through your veins. This was not a confession you needed to hear, but the bond welcomed it anyway.

“I know,” you admit, a bittersweet smile overtaking your features.

“Are you unhappy with it? With me?” You quickly shake your head in denial, but he continues before you have the chance to explain, “I would understand it if you were, and if you don't want the bond, I won't force you to accept it. I promise I will never hurt you.”

Is this what has been going through his mind since he left? That you wouldn't want him? The thought makes you swallow, you've only wanted to spare him as much pain as you could, not hurt him more yourself.

“Azriel, that's not it. There's nothing wrong with you, or any reason I wouldn't want you as my mate” you assure, “but I swore my life to protecting this temple, and I can't physically leave the grounds. That's not fair to you.”

He doesn't seem to be surprised at the information, meaning he was probably already aware of your predicament and decided to come talk to you anyway, but he still takes a moment before speaking, thinking through his words as he watches you, shadows coming up to whisper in his ear.

“Did you make a vow of chastity or anything similar?” The question takes you aback for a second, heat rising to your cheeks at the implication.

“Not explicitly, no,” you clear your throat, “but it's hard to keep a relationship when you're bound to a temple hidden in the middle of nowhere. I can't even walk past the first few steps.”

Azriel looks behind him at your words. If he took a few steps down, you wouldn't be able to follow him, a different set of wards keeping you within these grounds. When he meets your eyes once again, you add carefully, “This isn't a relationship worth pursuing when we both know it won't end up working.”

“I think I would like to decide that for myself,” he says as he takes a small step closer to you, “if you'll allow me.”

“What?”

“I would like to come visit you whenever I can, and get to know you. This… I don't think we should throw away a chance like this so lightly, not without at least giving it a try.” He closes most of the distance between you, raising up his hand and holding his palm up for you to take, “Even if it never becomes a romantic relationship, or if it ends up breaking both of our hearts, I don't want to be the person who didn't fight for something so special in fear of getting hurt.”

You watch his hand as you mull over his words. It's not as if he doesn't make sense in his argument, you're more than aware how downright stupid it is to throw away a mating bond when some people spend their whole lives searching for one, but you're scared, for both of your sakes. Letting your mate into your life, even without accepting the bond, knowing that there will come a time when you will want more from it than what you're capable of having would not simply hurt you both, but change both of your lives beyond recognition – it could even kill you. And yet, staring into his hopeful eyes every little reason why you should be turning him down, walking back into the temple and closing the door behind you, seems to escape your mind.

When his hand lowers slightly, wings drooping as well, possibly taking your hesitation as denial, your hand moves to hold his instinctively, surprising the both of you. You had been kidding yourself into thinking you could fight a bond like this. The smallest sign that your mate would leave and your body moved to keep him by your side. Your decision has been made. You can only hope the Gods will have mercy on you.

“I would like to get to know you too, Azriel,” you say, squeezing his hand in yours as a blinding smile takes over his devastatingly handsome face. “As long as the Goddess shows you the way to the temple, I don't see anything wrong with… talking.”

He lets his thumb run over the back of your hand before raising it to his lips, sending your heart into disarray as he leaves a soft kiss on your skin. A flush covers the tip of his ears, and you catch a flash of the silver string connecting the both of you.

“Then I promise to come see you as often as I can.” He lets your hands fall between you two, fingers still intertwined as you stare at each other like fools. You catch yourself after a moment, thanking the Mother for living in this isolated mountain for once so no one could witness this.

“Do you want to come in? You must be tired after your flight,” you invite, letting go of his hand, missing the warmth of his skin immediately.

His gaze drops to your hand before meeting yours once again and nodding, following you inside into the main hall he had been in before. It looked different in the light of day, his hazel eyes studying it once more.

“I didn't fly all the way here,” he starts, gaze still stuck on the stone covered walls, “I can travel through shadows, similarly to how most high fae can winnow.”

“Oh.” You watch as his shadows move lazily around him, coming up his legs. “Is that one of your shadowsinger abilities?”

“Yes.” You wanted to ask more, your earlier curiosity returning, but you find a conflicted expression when he meets your eyes, you can also feel it in your chest, and so you wait for him to decide if he wants to share it with you.

“I'm not high fae,” he admits.

“Right, the wings,” you let out, much too excitedly, as your eyes fall on the huge appendages on his back, “I've never met anyone with wings, and haven't even heard of featherless wings. I searched in the library for types of winged fae, but most of our collection is a bit outdated, and the Goddess was never too interested in those sorts of things so I couldn't find anything that fit your description.” Your mind finally catches up to your words then, eyes widening before falling to your hands as you play with your fingers, and add lamely, “I have a lot of time on my hands here, and I didn't think I'd see you again so…”

You dare a look at his face when his silence drags on too long, finding him watching you with a surprised expression, wide hazel eyes staring into your white ones. His shadows had crept up his neck once again - singing to him you suppose.

Azriel finally finds his words after another moment, your eyes not straying from his for a second, “I'm Illyrian,” he starts, studying your face carefully before continuing, “As far as I know, we're the only ones whose wings have no feathers.”

“Illyrian?”

“Have you heard of it?” He seems scared somehow, but you're not exactly sure why he would be. You try to remember where you've heard the word before, only taking you a moment to remember them as people who live in the mountains up in the north, and were part of the High Lord's army.

“Yes. I know they're people who live in the mountains, and fought in the war but I didn't even know you had wings,” you gesture to them, “I didn't get much of a chance to travel before I came to the temple, so I've never met any Illyrians.”

“That's all you've heard?” You nod slowly, eyebrows furrowing at his insistence. “Illyrians have an unfavorable reputation. The males train their whole lives to fight, and the females aren't regarded as much more than a means for procreation,” he explains further, “Some have started changing their ways, slowly, but most camps insist on their traditions, no matter how cruel. They- We just don't have a good reputation.”

You start understanding where he was getting at. Some fae had trouble opening their eyes to how the world was changing around them, choosing to remain willfully ignorant to the harm it brought those who were different from them, who they deemed as lesser. He was scared that, had you heard about whatever cruelty he's seen from his peers, you would judge him for it. You feel a little offended that he would think so lowly of you, but the truth is he doesn't know you at all, or you him.

“It's hard to outlive archaic traditions when we live for centuries. I wouldn't ever dream of passing judgment on an entire group of people for the beliefs some of its members insist on clinging onto,” you clasp your hands together behind your back, shrugging as you smile up at him, “and I might be biased, or even wrong, but I think you're very kind, Azriel. You came all the way here to help your friend, with no real proof that you'd find what you were looking for, and then you came back to ask permission to visit me, even when you thought I might not accept it. Cruel is the last word I'd use to describe you. I'd rather go with sweet.”

“Sweet?” He asks, a flush rising to his cheeks and a bashful smile finally erasing that conflicted expression off his face. “You think I'm sweet?” You hum in agreement, your grin growing so large it hurts your cheeks. “I'll have to let my mother know at last someone agrees with her.”

You let out a laugh, the image of a baby Azriel getting showered in praises from his mother entering your mind. You almost have trouble imagining him as a child, but you have no doubts he was more than sweet, adorable even, with his round cheeks and small wings.

“So…” You lean back on your heels, intertwining your hands behind your back. “Do you want me to show you around the temple?”

“I would love to,” he agrees with a blinding smile on his face.

#azriel x reader #azriel x y/n #azriel x you #azriel acotar #azriel shadowsinger #azriel fic #acotar fanfiction #acotar x reader #my writing

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cthulhus-curse · 7 days ago

Text

Once Upon a Time

Pairing: Wanda Maximoff x Fem!Reader

Word Count: 10,031

Warnings: Drugging, Dubious Consent, Impact Play, Jealousy, Manipulation, Mind Control, Mommy Kink, Nursing Kink, Possessive Sex, Sadism, Smut, Somnophilia, Spanking, Strap-Ons, Vaginal Fingering, Womb Tattoos | 18+ Minors DNI

Summary: You never expected to meet the twins you had given away over a decade prior on your 29th birthday, but after a chance encounter, you visit the quaint little town of Westview to find more than you bargained for at the hands of its mayor — the dark, elusive, puppeteering Wanda Maximoff. (Once Upon A Time AU)

The journey to New Jersey was seemingly endless. All which could be seen from the inside of your yellow bug were dark trees which embraced the dimly-lit roads of the rural side of the state. It had not been your plan to drive through the most remote part of the tristate area, living in the depths of New York City yourself, but for a spontaneous birthday trip, it was entertaining to say the least.

You eyed the two small children sleeping in the back of the car through the rearview mirror. It had been years since you dared remember the twins you gave away over a decade before. You were young and stupid, getting pregnant before you had even finished your first year of college. Not being fit to be a parent, you decided to have an outsider raise them. Although you never met the one who adopted them, you just knew they were in good hands.

The last thing you had expected was for them to show up at your doorstep on your twenty-ninth birthday. Your phone was in hand ready to call security about two missing children, but after the one with longer hair, Tommy he said his name was, told a story about twins you once gave away, you nearly passed out from disbelief.

They had carried around a rather curious book filled with various comic book stories. You knew them from passing through stores and seeing such familiar names present, but when they each told you they were real people in their town, it took all your energy not to laugh then and there. After brushing it off as a simple case of being children, listening in to them talking about how various people were from such stories, such as their mother being the Scarlet Witch, the waitress at the dinner Black Widow, their psychologist Hulk, among others, you made up your mind.

Not trusting a train to take them back home in the late hours of the night, you drove out to a quaint little town called Westview, New Jersey. You could only assume it was as small as a simple street without much surrounding it as it didn’t even show up online, but with a map – old-fashioned as it was – the boys gave you, you set forth to bring them home. The least you expected was for them to keep you company through the drive, knowing not to get close or else you’d get attached once again, but as soon as you left the city, they passed out.

“I can’t believe I have to drive to creepy New Jersey on my goddamn birthday,” you grumbled. There wasn’t much waiting for you at home, only a frozen pizza to heat up while you watched reruns of your favorite comedy shows, but then again, that was the only entertainment you cared for.

Far too afraid to awaken the slumbering children, no music was put on. You carried lazy, exhausted eyes while driving through the empty roads, confused at the fact that it was a seemingly desolate path no one dared venture forth. It had already been an hour since the last sign of civilization was seen.

When you finally saw the sign reading ‘Westview’, relief shot through you. Only a few more minutes and you’d be driving back home to resume your boring night. Impromptu babysitting was not something you’d signed up for.

“Hey, little runts, we’re here,” you said while turning around to shake the boys awake. “Come on, where’s your home? Your parents must be worried sick about you two.”

“Our mom doesn’t care,” Billy sleepily mumbled, rubbing his eyes as she awoke before his brother. “She sucks.”

“Dude, you’re like ten. Everyone thinks their mom sucks at that age until you’re at least 17,” you shrugged. “And you’re the ones that left this bumfuck town to find me . What kind of birthday gift is this? Haven’t you ever heard of the postal service? Couldn’t you send, like, arts & crafts and call it a day?”

“What’s bumfuck?” Tommy suddenly piped up from the other seat.

“Your parents are going to kill me,” you whispered to yourself. “Just tell me, guys. Where to now?”

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After seemingly driving around town in circles, you landed before a decently sized mansion. It was much bigger than the other surrounding houses. For a moment you frowned, seeing how private and reclusive, bushed guarding it from perfect view, it was. With a front yard covered with blossoming apple trees and a lengthy path leading up to the front door, you felt a sense of familiarity hit you – remembering seeing it once in a dream along with a red headed creature with glowing scarlet eyes made you shake your head with disbelief.

“Home sweet home. It’s time to say goodbye, kids,” you announced when turning to the twins. They had their knees close to their chest while eyeing their house with fear. It was not a good sign. “Come on, get out of the car. I’m exhausted and need to crash soon before I kill myself in the car.”

“Can you walk us to the front door?” Billy asked with a hopeful voice.

“Kid, you’re practically an adult now. I’m pretty sure you can walk by yourselves,” you rolled your eyes with slight annoyance. Seeing their glassy eyes in the dimly-lit car broke your heart. No names, no attachment. And yet you found yourself wanting to wrap them up, your own children, in a hug. “Okay fine. Grab your things and pray your mom doesn’t kill me.”

You had barely stepped out of the car, opening the back door for the twins to exit, when the front of the house revealed a shadowed figure. Walking down the bricked path to the mansion was seemingly tedious. You weren’t afraid of many things in life let alone for the woman who stood back, a messy bun over her head and donning a rather expensive dress only accented with high-heels and crossed arms over her chest. The closer you got, the more your eyes widened.

With your subconscious taking you back to such a dream, everything in your surroundings turned a macabre dark red. There had been pitch black trees without leaves in sight as their trunks stood mangled as though tortured by the very presence of the woman at the end of the seemingly haunted forest. Glowing red eyes had pulled you forth then and as you stared at the door of the mansion, you saw them once again.

“Please don’t take us back there,” Billy suddenly cried when tugging at your shirt.

“I have to,” you sighed, knowing the kids weren’t going down without a fight. “I’m sure your parents are worried sick about you.”

“We don’t have parents. Just a mom and she’s evil,” Tommy explained from your other side. You hadn’t even noticed how they lacked the book they always carried, leaving it in your car for their ulterior motives.

“Evil?” You shook your head in disbelief. “That’s a bit extreme, isn’t it?”

“She is. She doesn’t love us,” Tommy shrugged, huffing as he stared down at who appeared to be his mother inside the house.

“She only pretends to,” Billy finished.

“Kids,” you sighed, knowing exactly how they felt. Dropping to your knees to be at the same height, you threw them a sad smile. You’d already gotten far too close, so you mused a bit more closeness couldn’t hurt. “I’m sure that’s not true-”

“Boys!”

The familiarity of the voice which rang through made you frown.

“Tommy! Billy!” the voice exasperated. The hidden figure which once stood by the door ran towards you. Arms were quickly wrapped about the twins, hugging them close. You noticed tears in her eyes which mirrored those of a crocodile. Ignoring the wild red mane which you knew from your dream, your lips formed a thin line. “Are you okay? Where have you been? What happened?”

“We found our real mom!” Tommy snarled before grabbing his brother’s hand. Neither of them dared turn back, instead running off into the house and ignoring everything their mother, well, adoptive mother, had spoken their way. Grimacing, you were left alone with the older woman.

“Y-you’re my boys’ birth mother?”

There was something enchanting and yet secretive about her. You couldn’t help but feel as though she towered over your being, smirking with raised eyebrows while you hid underneath her shadow. Each little second that passed by in silence, you allowed your eyes to rummage through her body. The tight, perfectly cut black dress accented her thin eyeliner. Hands were on her hips, clearly dominating you without daring to say a word. You allowed yourself to stare up her perfectly toned legs to her midsection, then find her cleavage before snapping yourself up to her lips. With them parted slightly, lipstick all prim and proper, you knew she was a woman impossible to forget.

“Hi,” you awkwardly replied. At the hospital when giving away the twins, no one had dared to prepare you for such a moment. It was supposed to be a closed off adoption, no one was to know and yet you were easily found by a pair of children who carried hatred for their mother.

The older woman took a moment to compose herself, lips going from disdain to a fake smile you saw right through.

“How would you like a glass of the best apple cider you’ve ever tasted?” She questioned, her voice thick with an accent you couldn’t recognize.

Chuckling, you shook your head. “Got anything stronger?”

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Tommy and Billy had long run upstairs when you were allowed into the house. Greeting the woman who you learned was Wanda Maximoff, mayor of Westview, was awkward on its own. Mostly due to the rampant disbelief and similarity to a witch having appeared in your dreams. On the way to their home, the twins had shown off a book filled with various comic book characters – superheroes at that. You shook your head when they mentioned an entity called the Scarlet Witch, said to be their mother, but as you eyed the woman who handed you a glass of brandy, you couldn’t help but let your curiosity win.

“How did they find me?” You asked after taking a sip of your drink. With the way it went burning down your throat, you closed your eyes with relief.

“No idea.” Wanda replied, her viridescent eyes unmistakably glowing red without your knowledge. “When I adopted them, they were only three weeks old. Records were sealed. I was told the birth mother didn’t want any contact.”

“You were told right.”

“And the father?” she curiously wondered. You took note of how she refused to drink alcohol and instead went to her apple cider. Her apparent obsession with apples was something you found quite amusing.

“There was one,” you giggled a bit. It was a mistake more like it, a chance encounter at a bar you were far too young to enter with a fake ID and your friends. You hadn’t even gotten his name, but of course ended up with his children.

“Do I need to be worried about him?” Wanda dragged herself down the hall where you followed obediently. Without daring to say a word, you’d exhibit no hesitation when listening on to silent orders.

“Nope. He doesn’t even know.”

“Do I need to be worried about you, Ms. Y/L/N?” There was fear in her voice which dismayed you from the well-put together, secretive woman. Whatever the kids said, you could tell she truly cared for them.

“Absolutely not,” you were quick to reply. As much as they would love for you to take them away, you had your own life built without any children. There was a reason you had given them to someone else. You weren’t fit to be a mother so Wanda, even as severe as she seemed, took that place in your name.

The office reeked of cinnamon apples when you first walked inside. The smokey nature of it, only a light turned on in the corner alongside a strip of pictures the mother and children pilled, made a warmth settle over your chest. You always did pride yourself in holding down your alcohol, but even a slight sip of the drink made your head feel woozy. Sitting down on the couch, you huffed. With hazy eyes you could barely see Wanda’s blurred figure who closed the door and sat across from you.

Gripping the faux leather couch, you frowned. There was still control you exerted over your body, but felt a strange, wicked attachment to Wanda. Looking down at the drink you noticed bubbles rising from the remaining liquid. It wasn’t a good sign but then again you were far too gone to care.

“I’m sorry they dragged you out of your life. I really don’t know what’s gotten into them.”

“The kids are having a rough time,” you shrugged. It took a moment to situate yourself, blinking various times until your vision, to your disdain, only got worse. “Happens.”

“You have to understand, ever since I became mayor balancing things has been tricky. You have a job I assume?”

“I, uh, I keep busy, yeah,” you shook your head. Wanda stared into your soul when you so much as made eye contact with her. She licked her lips, hunger striking while you grew more loopy by the second.

“Imagine having another one on top of it. That’s having a single mom.” Crossing her legs, the woman’s eyes flickered over your body. Beneath the pristine cover as a mayor lay a beast, a witch, who only wanted to come out and play. Unbeknownst to you, she had been expecting your arrival ever since she casually dropped a slip of papers near her children’s room knowing they would unknowingly bring you to her. “So I push forward. Am I strict? I suppose, but I do it for their own good. I want my boys to excel in life. I don’t think that makes me evil, do you?”

“I’m sure they’re just saying that because of the comic book thing,” you pointed out.

“What comic book thing?”

There was feigned confusion from Wanda. Truly she knew about the book which carried the stories of the townspeople. It was crafted with the help of the Darkhold, telling each person’s lives in the universe they had previously called their own. As the ruler of the cosmos, she simply had to find her children. If it took taking a chunk of their universe and bringing them to a town, which was not supposed to exist in that universe, in another, then so be it. Wanda would have her happy ending no matter what – you were only an added bonus to having her children already.

“Oh you know, their book. How they think everyone’s a superhero from it,” you chuckled at the mere idea of it. For a moment you wondered if you were in it. “Like their shrink is the Hulk.”

“I’m sorry. I really have no idea what you’re talking about.”

“Oh. You know what? It’s none of my business,” you ended up awkwardly laughing. It was so difficult to breathe. With eyelids growing heavy, you held onto the couch for support. “They’re your kids and I really should be heading back.”

In your attempts to stand up, you nearly fell face first after so much of a step. With surprising speed Wanda was there to grab you in place, humming amusement as you fell onto her. She grabbed your hips, pulling you close enough to her until your face lay against her shoulder, bodies melting together.

“Of course. It’s getting late, darling. I’ll have to get you to a safe place all by myself. We can continue this conversation some other time.” She dragged you out of the room, flicking her wrist so that all the lights there dimmed down and the door closed behind her. Lips were pressed against your cheek, dropping a kiss there before making their way to your ear. “Have a good night, darling,” she breathed out with a tone dripping with lust. “Happy birthday.”

There came a frown when she uttered the words, but you were barely conscious to properly react. Your body had a mind of its own as it sagged while being pulled away. Wanda had your body and soul the first time she had set her eyes on you in your dream, only controlling you by having slipped something into your drink. As fear began to set in, eyes growing wide, everything suddenly turned black.

Under Wanda’s grasp, you were nothing but an obedient pet.

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When you awoke your head felt like it was about to burst. You grimaced, massaging your temples as the pain shot through the rest of your body, which was suspiciously lacking clothes let alone for your underwear. Not even the bed sheets beneath your back covered you up while inside the strange room. It carried a horrid floral wallpaper similar to that of the 80’s almost as though you had gone back in time.

Sighing, you shook your head. All you could remember from the previous night was having one too many drinks at the mayor’s place before inevitably needing to be taken away to the local inn. a brain filled with fake memories was not something you could put a finger on, only following what you believed to be real.

“I’m such an idiot,” you mumbled to yourself. Ignoring the growing headache from what you imagined to be a typical hangover, you huffed. Making yourself look like a drunk in front of your children’s mother who incidentally was the most powerful person in town. You ignored the book that casually sat on the bedside table of the inn, mysteriously appearing alongside you after having previously been sitting in the backseat of your car.

Deciding to get a head start on the drive back home, you gathered a few of your belongings sprawled across the room and headed out. The lanky hallway reeked of lavender which was far too much for your suddenly sensitive nose to get used to. Peering through the mysterious path, you waltzed on. Your stomach was rumbling far too loud for your comfort.

You ended up at a diner connected to the inn. It was small, quaint, and rather old fashioned with a jukebox still sitting at its side playing light tunes from past decades. Although it was barely packed, all eyes were on you. Perhaps it was the clothes from the previous night you still wore, desperately requiring a shower already, being a new face in such a small town, or both. Still, you ignored each patron of the restaurant and sat by the corner of the bar.

The menu was handed to you by a woman with dark hair and similarly sharp hazel eyes. She gave you a onceover, not daring to say anything before shaking her head and moving away. As cold as she was, there was an odd sense of familiarity to her.

“What’s a cutie like you doing in a dump like this?” came a voice which snapped you from your thoughts.

Facing from the menu, the sight of a smirking redhead standing at the other side of the counter took you by surprise. She donned an outfit similar to that of a waitress while holding out a mug filled with steaming coffee. Although rather dashing, you only had eyes for Wanda – at the silent revelation you frowned, almost as though she was in your head which, not that you knew, was not so far from the truth.

“Just dropping a pair of kids off. Not exactly how I thought my birthday weekend would go, but it’s better than sitting home and lighting a candle on a store-bought cupcake,” you chuckled dryly. “I’m just getting some breakfast before I head back home.”

“Oh it’s your birthday?” She casually asked.

“It was yesterday.”

“Well, happy belated birthday, malyshka,” the redhead mumbled before pointing to the menu. “Guess it’s on the house for you. It’s not every day we get such cute visitors. I wouldn’t mind seeing you around more often.”

“If you’re ever in the city you know who to call.” You gave the menu a once-over before landing on a whole stack of pancakes which made your mouth salivate. That along with the coffee would be the perfect fuel to get you back home safe in a matter of hours. After telling the waitress your order, you took your chance. “I’m Y/N by the way. Y/N Y/L/N.”

“It’s nice to meet you, Y/N. Name’s Natasha,” she beamed before holding out her hand. You didn’t hesitate even a second to shake it. “Sorry about my mom by the way. Melina’s not really used to new people. We actually haven’t had any visitors in years.”

“I get it. I couldn’t even find directions to this place on my phone. It’s a bit weird, but it seems like a nice enough town. Very different from the loud and obnoxious city.”

Natasha was very different from Wanda. You quickly learned that she was adventurous and longed to meet new people, perhaps escape the small town of Westview to move out west with her sister in tow. The two of you talked for what seemed like hours even between you gnawing at your pancakes and her being yelled at by her mom, who spent most of her time in the kitchen alongside her dad, to tend to other incoming customers.

To your dismay each time you so much as attempted to get close, even with light brushes against her hand, you felt a burning sensation on your lower stomach each second you talked more with Natasha. Hissing quietly, you pressed a hand against the skin. The searing pain along with glowing red eyes which zeroed in on you from outside the diner foreshadowed the life you’d lead, never daring to leave Westview even as much as you wanted.

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You had barely stepped into your room at the inn, already full with breakfast and ready to jump ship, before your mind turned blank. No thoughts swirled over your head, only mere images of a certain powerful redhead who, once again, plagued your life. Not being aware of the woman standing behind you made it easier for her to force you into the bedroom. With hands showing off their red glow and eyes mirroring it, she had you under her spell.

While nearly unconscious, Wanda dragged you to the bathroom. Your eyes were barely open, already drunk with exhaustion as your clothes were shed away. Obedient as she wished, the woman had you stand back as she turned the faucet of the shower. She had taken you to the inn late on the previous night aiming to return in the morning to take what was rightfully hers. Although when seeing you interact with Natasha, the green monster popped out – it was time to show you who owned you.

“Come here, baby,” she cooed while dragging you into the shower. In your naked glory the mayor allowed her eyes to feast up your skin. It was perfect, a blank canvas ready to be used by her. Only making it better was the tattoo she had impulsively decided to give you over your womb – a marking which shone with a scarlet tint in the shape of a particular comic book character you knew. “In the shower, now. If my little angel can’t take care of herself then mommy has to. You’re far too dumb to do it, huh? Always needing my help.”

Stepping into the shower without another word, you sighed. The warm water hit your body leaving you in awe of its silent yet powerful demeanor. While basking on the relief it made you feel, you were ignorant to the curtain which remained open as another naked body slipped behind you. Once perky breasts pressed against your back, nipples rubbing your skin, you let out an involuntary moan.

“That’s the sound I love to hear. You’re such a pretty girl, honey. I’ve missed you,” Wanda mumbled, lips brushing against your ear as she held you close. “You don’t know me, at least not here. You’ve barely even met me and yet here we are. It’s rushed, I get it, but I couldn’t stand another second away from you. Did you miss me, buttercup? I love being in your head as you sleep, but it’s nothing compared to having you here with me.”

“Miss you,” came your hypnotized reply. “So, so much, Wanda.”

“Yeah?” she smirked devilishly. Although it was her own magic making you say those words, she didn’t care. Hearing them again after having lost you in her own universe along with her children made it all better. “You’re safe now, honey. You’re home with mommy. I promise I’ll never let you go again.”

Wanda spent what felt like hours dragging soap along your body. She explored every inch, never forgetting your ticklish spots which made you giggle as she beamed at the joyous sound. Being careful when cleaning the area where the fresh tattoo lay was a must. The last thing Wanda wanted was to ruin the gift she so happily got her pet – a marking so that even touching another person, a potential threat to your owner, made you hiss out in pain and crave her even more.

Fingers danced along your sides as their nails left red marks upon your skin. She desperately craved to possess you entirely, to leave you dripping with blood, body all maimed, with bruises and little cuts she had once left on you. Wanda was nothing if not possessive. You were her property and, whether you liked it or not, she’d make it known to the world.

“You’re doing such a good job for me, baby girl. Now you’re ready for us to have some fun. I want it to be perfect though. You can’t rush this,” she said while allowing the water to overtake your soapy body until you were fully clean. “We can take it slow if you want. But just know that whenever I want to, I’ll have you. I want you to behave and not spend time around that silly waitress. Can you do that?”

“I’ll do as you say, mommy,” came your robotic reply with a mind not your own.

“There’s a good girl. Now it's time to get out of the shower.”

She helped you leave the steaming space, making you stand by the curtains as she dragged a previously dry towel across your naked body. Wanda tilted her head when brushing against the tattoo. Leaning in, she pressed her lips against it. Owning you was the greatest pleasure of her life along with being a mother – doing both made her life perfect.

“You’ll put on the clothes mommy left for you in bed. I want you to stay in town for as long as I say. You will live here, alright? If you behave, then you can stay with me,” Wanda instructed calmly. She stepped back and allowed you to go into the room to eye the pile of clothes on the bed. She knew exactly what you’d be comfortable wearing. “It’s easy, honey. You be a good little pup and I’ll reward you. If you misbehave, I’ll punish you. Am I clear?”

“Yes, mommy.”

“Good. Now let me help you get dressed. You’re far too dumb to do it yourself, huh?” Wanda hummed as she stepped closer to you. Eyes roamed her naked body which stood mere centimeters away from your own. While the redhead helped you into your new clothes, making sure to allow her lips to kiss every inch of skin she ended up covering, you were left holding onto her for balance and enjoying the view. “I’ll allow you to spend time with the twins. It’s not like you’ll remember much anyway. Just be sure to keep our children safe otherwise I won’t be sweet with you.”

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You were left to roam the reclusive town of Westview for days upon days, mindlessly walking across every area and becoming yourself acquainted with it. Various townspeople had eyed you with confusion. As Natasha had said, none of them were used to outsiders. There was fear and confusion stricken over their faces as they saw a new face waltzing down main street.

Wanda had allowed you to see the twins more often than not. They were ecstatic to spend time with their birth mother, running to you to wrap you up in their little arms before jumping up and down, asking what the plan was for the day. She didn’t allow you to leave town. As much as you wished to do so, fighting back and humoring the idea of taking them to the city for a day, the mayor flicked her wrist. Eyes turning red, she was sure to make you see the light.

Most days you spend hiking out with the boys. Tommy was quite fast if you said it yourself. The both of them would do races with him always coming out on top. Admittedly so, Wanda had her anxieties about the twins running around the forest after school, but once you promised to help them with their homework and bring them back to the mansion with full stomachs, she agreed to it – mostly when seeing in your mind how sincere you were.

“What’s going on between you and Wanda?” Billy asked one day when you walked back from the depths of the forest to the car.

“You call your mom by her first name?” You couldn’t say you were surprised about it. After all, they had trash talked their mother each time you were together. A part very deep inside you agreed, but with Wanda in your mind swallowing your thoughts, you tried to dissuade their feelings.

After shrugging, Billy continued. “Sometimes. But seriously, you’ve been weird. You shouldn’t get close to the Scarlet Witch. She’s wicked and evil.”

Tommy remained silent, seemingly exhausted from the walk. As soon as you unlocked the car, he threw himself in the backseat, begging for you to take them to the diner so they could have a burger. You quickly learned they easily dramatized their emotions at times to get what they wanted. You’d say something if it wasn’t for them being your kids.

“It doesn’t matter if you think she’s this villain or not. Wanda is your mom. She’s been taking care of you all your life. She wouldn’t hurt you, alright? You’re her kids. She loves you, little dudes,” you explained when starting up the car.

During the rather short trip to the diner up main street, Widow’s Diner & Inn, both twins remained silent. You took the time to gather your thoughts which, unbeknownst to you, were no longer your own. Pensive thoughts of Wanda have become a daily occurrence for you. At times you’d lay in your bed at the inn all sprawled while your mind went to the woman. She was fierce and powerful, but as much as you feared her, there was something familiar about her which went beyond your dream. You swore you had known her forever.

You shook your head when arriving at the diner. The boys were rather excited to finally eat, already jumping up and down with sudden bursts of energy which were only dissuaded when you ordered them to bring their backpacks – the homework would not be done by itself unless you wished for Wanda to have your head, figuratively you hoped.

“Burgers and fries for you guys again?” You asked when taking a seat in a booth in the corner of the diner.

“Yes!” came the little voices simultaneously.

After giving your order to a rather giddy Natasha, who made sure to ask about your day along with the twins’, you tapped on the table rhythmically. The boys were instructed to take out their homework and get a head start before finishing it in your room, but Tommy had other plans. The last time he was at the inn he took the book you’d curiously found yourself flipping through late one night. When he slipped it out his bag, you knew you were in for a long dinner service.

“Guys, we don’t have time for fairytales right now. Your mom’s gonna kill me if she finds out you’re doing work when you get home. No offense, but I am more scared of her than you two.”

“Come on, ma. It’ll just take a second. We gotta show you something!” Billy exasperated happily.

You rolled your eyes and let them continue. Without daring to admit it, ever since they had begun calling you ‘ma’ days before, the name coming naturally, your happiness had increased. “Fine, but make it quick. So, who else is a comic book character?”

“You know Mr. Stark Pawnbroker & Antiquities Dealer? Well, he’s actually Iron man,” Tommy whispered as though it was a long lasting secret they were to keep. He slid the chunky book towards you showing off a picture of a man surrounded by suits of armor. “And his wife, Pepper, is actually Rescue. Isn’t that crazy?”

“Yup, that’s insane,” you replied with feigned interest. While part of you only saw them as silly comic books, you couldn’t help but begin putting the pieces together especially when it came to Wanda. You had yet to say anything about your little encounter, not that you remembered much of it. Still, you knew she was someone not to be tried whether she was the Scarlet Witch or not. “Who else?”

“There’s Brunhilde who’s a Valkyrie. She’s the one that takes care of the horses and everything. Carol is her girlfriend and she’s a bartender who is supposed to be Captain Marvel. We don’t really see her much though. We’re not allowed in the bar. Mr. Stark says they sell really good wings though!” Billy huffed with apparent frustration, suddenly craving hot wings. “T’Challa is the coolest. He’s supposed to be Black Panther and he’s, like, the best math teacher ever! Oh and there’s Peter who’s in high school and he’s Spider-Man. I really like him. Sometimes he visits our school and we get to hang out! But Wanda isn’t a fan of him. She says he’s a bad influence. Oh! She calls him a mu'dak whatever that means.”

At what you knew to be a swear word, you smirked. They were fairly young, sure, but you wouldn’t punish the usage of such a word without knowledge of its meaning. Either way, you were sure you wouldn’t mind if they evolved to much more colorful words. As long as their mom was oblivious to said actions, you weren’t complaining.

“Mr. Rogers, our gym teacher, he’s supposed to be Captain America. Then Thor, the guy that works at the stables too, is, well, just Thor so that’s pretty obvious. You’d think the Scarlet Witch would pick better names to hide their identity,” Tommy shook his head with amusement. “You know Dr. Banner is actually the Hulk and,” he leaned in close, “Natasha is Black Widow. Her dad is actually the Red Guardian. Yelena and Melina are also Widows. Then there’s Clint who owns his own farm with his family. That’s Hawkeye. They’re the main six, ma. They’ll help you break the curse and bring everyone back to their universe.”

Parenting did not come naturally when you decided to give away the twins, but when getting the chance to be around them, to see how similar in nature they were to both you and Wanda, it just felt right. They each had small characteristics shared with you, primarily their propensity for stubbornness and pushing back against authority; their mother being their enemy. While you couldn’t figure out a way to remain in their lives without casting Wanda to the side, it was awfully nice to spend time with the little runts.

Still, it worried you that they put so much effort into accusing their mother of being an evil witch who created and teleported an entire town to a different universe, erasing their lives and memories before implanting new ones. While they were still letting their imagination run rampant as children often did, they took down the already weak relationship they had with their adoptive mom in the process. In the short amount of time you had known Wanda, you knew she didn’t deserve that – she forced you to think she didn't.

“Kid, this isn’t Disney. There’s no curse to be broken. You’re mom’s kinda weird, sure, but that doesn’t make her a witch,” you pointed out.

With a deflated look on their faces, the kids began pouting. It was something you quickly found to be your weakness. You had yet to spend enough time to get to know them well-enough, but knew you would do whatever it took for them. Crushing their dreams wouldn’t help you win the parent-of-the-year award, but perhaps it would get you in Wanda's good graces allowing you to potentially see more of the twins.

When Natasha arrived with your food, only a side of mac & cheese for yourself with a mysterious apple on the side, she flashed you a smile. You allowed yourself to bask in her beauty, thoughts swirling around how badly you’d want to take her hand in your own to bring her close until your lips were ghosting over one another’s. As your lower stomach burned bright red, you clutched it. Surely you couldn’t see yourself willingly settling in Westview, but for the sake of the twins it was worth it, Natasha being an added bonus.

The witch inside your head was not a fan of that, her lips turning into a thin like as you took a bite of the apple she sent your way. In minutes you were dumbed down and controlled just like she wanted. Even before having come to town she was in your head. Only given your arrival, she fully took control of her little toy. There was nothing you could do other than sit back and let her take you once again.

｡☆✼★━━━━━━━━━━━━★✼☆｡

“You should’ve known better, princess. Everything was going so well. We were going to be a happy family, but of course you went ahead and ruined that. Now I have to force you to listen whether you like it or not.”

They felt like macabre thoughts swirling in your subconscious. You were sleeping soundly in the inn during the depths of the night. With closed eyes and deep in your sleep, you were unaware of the atmosphere around you changing. The air grew thick and musky, your window having been opened by a bout of red magic before an unknown figure made itself into the room. A simple flick of her wrist got your clothes to disappear, not that you knew anyway. That’s just how she’d love to keep you, fast asleep and easily corruptible.

“Just look at how beautiful you are when you sleep. All mine and ready for the taking,” the mysterious voice mumbled as its owner made herself close to the bed. She undressed herself with another flick until her clothes were properly folded over the nearby desk. Leaving the children sleeping peacefully at home, Wanda wandered off to find you. “I was trying to make this special for us, but you left me no choice. Now you’ll have to pay the price. If only you could’ve done what mommy said then none of this wouldn’t have happened. Maybe I should teach you a lesson and hurt that Romanoff girl. Would you learn then, baby, that you’re all mine?”

Wanda took her time to use her magic and bind your wrists to the headboard. She had yet to wake you up, instead settling on the bed and between your legs. Her hands found themselves roaming all across your body. She had seen you naked before various times, especially when using her magic long before your arrival to town and watched as you hopped in the shower to sneak a hand between your legs. She was quite the fan of seeing you turn into a mess while she watched without your knowledge.

Sharp nails dug upon your skin before moving down. They left angry trail tracks running upon your chest. They were deep enough to draw small bouts of blood which she happily leaned in to lick clean. Seeing you in pain, writhing in your sleep while she marked your frail little body, was something making Wanda’s heart swell.

“Time for you to wake up,” she said. Fingers went near your forehead before your eyes widened. You were awakened forcefully, fear immediately striking down your being. It wasn’t long before Wanda used her magic to dumb you down once again, the effects of the poised apple mixing with her powers. “Good morning, sleeping beauty. It’s time for us to have some fun.”

“What?” you grumbled while on the bridge between your own consciousness and Wanda’s.

The woman held down your hips and pushed her hips forward enough to let you feel her little secret. While your tattoo burned bright red, so did the dildo nestled between her legs. She let its tip glide up and down your slit, the strap-on growing wet with your juices and spreading against your folds. The mere sight made her groan with arousal.

The redhead urged herself forth. Soon enough, the toy stretched your hole apart, making you moan while making eye-contact with eyes which dripped with bloodlust. Even if she couldn’t feel it, Wanda knew you were a tight, needy mess for her. She drove herself inside far enough to have the head touch your depths, the entire thing being covered inside your cunt in one swift movement.

“Don’t worry pup, it won’t hurt at all. Just let mommy use you, alright? It’s what you’ve wanted ever since you came to me huh? You just needed someone to use you like the cute little fucktoy you are,” Wanda maniacally huffed out. “Mommy’s here now, no need to keep worrying. Let me make your thoughts all mine. You won’t have to think about anything else from now on.”

“W-wanda?”

“Shhh don’t overexert yourself, honey. It’s not good for you. I can tell you’re exhausted. Close your eyes for me. Let mommy use you while you get some good sleep,” Wanda whispered, her lips running up your skin. Teeth grazed every inch before coming down to nip the softness beneath. “Did you like the apple mommy gave you? It made your brain all fussy, didn’t it? It’s just what I wanted. Sometimes my pretty girl needs to take a step back and let mommy help. You want me to make your cute pussy feel good, right?”

“Yes,” you hazily replied. It was difficult to keep your eyes open as you slowly drifted closer to sleep. Your pussy throbbed at the feeling of Wanda moving deep inside you, the dildo attached to her hips being much larger than anything you had ever taken. Even with the mix of pain and pleasure you felt, you didn’t dare complain. “Harder.”

“You want it harder, buttercup? Oh my. Does my dumb baby need mommy to fuck her pussy with my cock?” She was more than happy to hear that hushed plea. “I bet no one��s ever filled you up like this. I’ll ruin this cunt, my fucking property, for anyone else. Not even that Romanoff slut will get to touch you. You’re my little bitch.”

“Yours,” you lazily replied.

“That’s right, Y/N. Mommy’s fleshlight, all happy to be fucked like a whore. After I’m done with you,” she leaned in dangerously close, “you’re going to be an obedient little pet. I can’t wait for you to cum all over my cock. Your cunt is all mine now for the taking.”

Wanda spent countless hours driving the dildo in and out of you. She noticed a bulge appearing each time she went deeper, smirking with pride whenever pushing down on it. You were far too hazy, your mind a mess while laying down and taking whatever she gave you. The tattoo over your skin, the proof of ownership from your master, intensified the lustful feelings hiding inside you.

Fingers gripped your breasts until you cried out in pain. You’d be lucky if your sounds didn’t awaken the entire town, let alone the tristate area. Wanda didn’t care though. If she got caught, everyone would get to see who your owner was. They’d see the stupid, dumbed down little whore she could turn you into without much effort.

“What are you-” you muttered when gaining a bit of lucidity, still coming on and off from Wanda’s strong grasp. Even with your failed attempts to push her off, she continued fucking you with her faux cock.

“I don’t think you want to do that, honey. I could have the entire town here in minutes. Do you want them to see your slutty little body being fucked hard by mommy?” Wanda questioned with raised eyebrows, waiting until you shook your head lazily. “Good. Then shut up and take it. This will be our little secret if you behave.”

“Yes, mommy.”

She did not care when you were driven near the edge. Wanda slapped your breast, nails grazing the mounds and leaving scratches behind. It was a hellish momentum which you could not willingly rid yourself off, but admittedly so, you didn’t want to. You loved the way she rolled her hips, your own moving rhythmically. Each little tug against the magical bindings made a burning sensation shoot down your body. That was enough pain to make you hum with approval.

The sole mistake you made while Wanda writhed on top of you was coming undone without permission. You allowed your eyes to close, exhaustion sliding in, as the knot inside you was finally loosened. Wanda eyed you with fury, viridescent orbs turning bright red as she roared. After a much-deserved slap landed over your face, she huffed.

“You dumb slut. Who gave you permission to cum all over my cock. Stupid girl needs to learn some manners, huh? You always have to wait for mommy to order you around. That’s nonnegotiable, princess.” Wanda slid the strap-on out of you and for a moment you were disappointed at the sudden emptiness between your legs. She used her magic to make the makeshift cuffs around your wrist disappear, leaving red marks along your wrists, along with the dildo strapped to her hips. The way she tilted her head sadistically struck you with fear. “Turn around. I want you on your hands and knees, baby. You don’t get away with being a disobedient little bitch.”

“I’m so sorry, mommy,” you sobbed against the bed sheets, still making sure to follow directions so as to avoid any more anger from arising in her. “I didn’t mean to be bad. It just felt too good. I didn’t know what to do.”

Wanda ignored your apology and instead waited for you to get in position. When your ass was up and ready for the taking, your face still hidden over the mess of pillows by the head of the bed, she found herself to be satisfied enough to continue.

A hand found itself striking down on your backside without notice. She hummed, face lacking emotions before hitting you again with the back of her hand. The actions were carried out over and over again. With hotness shooting across your frame, you felt your cunt practically begging to be touched. Juices ran down your inner thighs all slick and shiny underneath the moonlight.

“Stop squirming. I was very clear with my order’s, wasn’t I? Now stay still and let mommy give you the punishment you deserve.” Wanda remained smacking you until she was satisfied. Your cheeks were red and sore, almost turning to a dark hue the more she torture you. The one moment which she dared stop her attacks was when you allowed yourself to breathe, body sagging while your sweat profusely with fear. “Did you know apples mature very slowly? I grew tired of being alone when enticing this universe. No one knew who I, the Scarlet Witch herself, was. They all forgot about their stupid little heroic past selves and knelt to me, their rightful ruler. I figured that until you had my boys, I had to make preparations. There are over twenty varieties in my garden, just like there are many more of you. Now you better behave, be a good girl and take what mommy gives you, taste my forbidden fruit. Unless, of course, you’d like to be replaced. That can always be arranged.”

“I’ll be your good toy, I promise. I swear I’ll do whatever you ask of me. Just please, don’t hurt me,” you begged.

“Oh but baby, don’t you know? I fucking love hurting you.”

Your cunt was dripping with juices when Wanda smacked it with the palm of her hand. She wasn’t soft by any means, instead hitting you, fingers brushing against your clit from time to time, until you desperately craved more. Each attack made you grow wetter. At one point you began grinding down on her hand each time it touched you. Turning you into a brainless little whore was her greatest pleasure in life.

“Such a cute fuckable puppy. All for mommy to ruin,” she grinned before giving you one last slap for good measure. “I must say you’re taking this all so well. Who knew my baby would enjoy her punishments? It’s adorable.”

“Anything for you- ah!”

Wanda did not allow you to speak. Instead she eased a pair of fingers in you, letting out a throaty moan as she felt your walls clench around her. You were far too soaked allowing her to dive in deep without any issues. She could feel how you throbbed against her digits, your velvety insides practically begging for more.

The craving sensation inside her, a monster who had to be sated, ran rampant. Wanda felt alive as she brought a third finger inside you, spreading you apart further while you clutched the white sheets in torment. It was dirty and animalistic, your body swallowing the witch with gluttony. You couldn’t remember anything but her. Always in your mind and always would be.

“Now you can cum, darling. Go on and put on a little show for mommy,” Wanda snarled as she curled her fingers up inside you.

An all-consuming orgasm took over your being. Your mind, body, and soul were all wrapped around in it, finally being brought peace and piercing pleasure you so desired. Wanda’s free hand was on your body, gripping one of your sore cheeks with might until her sharp nails drew blood. As she had wished, you had crumbled at her feet.

She kept ramming her digits inside you until you’d had enough. When being taken out they weren’t plopped in her own mouth, instead your own. Lips lightly sucked on the fingers as you tasted your own essence. It was sweet and savory. Your eyes were barely open, your body having been turned so you could stare down at Wanda who hovered from above you. As wicked as you knew she was, her mere appearance underneath the blanket of the night was one of an angelic figure.

“You did so well for me, Y/N. Just look at how happy you’ve made mommy. I can’t even tell you how proud I am of you, pretty girl,” Wanda said as she pulled her fingers from between your lips. She cupped your face tenderly, smiling sweetly at the tired little eyes which looked back. “Seeing you all fucked up for me has made mommy really wet. All you have to do is make it better, okay? Then I’ll finally let you rest for a bit. I know you can do it.”

“Always, mommy,” you whispered back – lips were cracked as your body was ready to shut down and yet you had a drive which forced you to please her. “Let me make you feel better, please.”

“Hmm there’s my good girl.”

Wanda crawled up your body, but not before planting a kiss upon your lips. She praised you for your willingness to please then allowed herself to straddle your face. Even with a blurry eyesight ready to give up, you could see wet juices that coated her needy pussy. Licking your lips, you stared up with hunger ready to eat her whole.

The first taste of Wanda was unlike anything else you’d had the pleasure to try before. She lowered herself over your mouth and allowed you to feel her arousal up close. Folds were sloppily spread apart as you ran your tongue through them, groaning at the ecstasy overcoming you.

“You look beautiful with a mouthful of my pussy, angel. And your tongue feels so fucking good,” she swallowed her pride and mewled, “Come on, Y/N. I’m not close. Be good and make mommy cum all over your stupid mouth.”

You spent heated moments eating her out. Your body shifted underneath her while the older woman grinded over your face. She grabbed the headboard for support. Each little thrust brought her pussy down closer to your lips which devoured her greedily. With your hands finding themselves holding her thighs open, you turned Wanda into a mess mirroring your own ragged, fucked up body.

“Just like that, baby. Keep going. Fuck, that feels amazing. I’ll have to give you a reward for making my pussy feel so good,” Wanda chuckled in disbelief. She had never felt such an intense pleasure in her life. Even the way your nails dug over her skin made her arousal shoot through the sky. “I’m c- fuck! Puppy, I’m cumming!”

Your face was left coated with a mess of her juices as Wanda caught her breath. She was tired, exhaustion mirroring your own setting in. it was hard to move herself from your face knowing how glorious she felt with your mouth pressed between her legs. The previous vexation she had experienced was replaced with relief.

Wanda did not hesitate to show off her caring side only when around you. Albeit worn out, she grabbed you from the bed, picking up your weary body before dragging you to the bathroom. There she was quick to run a shower for the two of you. Knowing it would be impossible for you to stand without help, mind blank and eyes closing, she held onto you while running soap all over your decayed skin.

Kisses were dropped along your body as you were taken from the shower. The softness exuding from Wanda was startling to say the least. She had spent tedious, painful years without you by her side. Surely her twins soothed the empty hole in her heart, but without you, there was no family. Having them unknowingly bring you to her was a risky yet fulfilling choice she made.

“I love you so much, baby. You have no idea how much I’ve missed this,” Wanda breathed out as she hugged your wet frame from behind. She sighed with relief and grabbed a towel to dry you both up. She’d finally gotten her happy ending. “You’ve been such a good girl for mommy. I’m always so proud of you. Don’t worry, you’re home safe now. I will never let anyone hurt you again. We’ll be so happy here, I promise.”

“Thank you,” you replied. There was no way of knowing whether the effects of the apple had worn out and you were lucid enough to form a coherent sentence or if she still controlled your mind. All you knew is that a sudden burst of adoration for her began soaking your heart. You held Wanda close, not caring if you were naked in the middle of the bathroom, and hugged her with tears in your eyes – it was a mixture of your overwhelming emotions and the enticing pain on you. “I love you too, mommy. Always.”

The night was filled with the remembrance of an old life you’d lived. While you remained in her arms, Wanda held you out of fear of losing you once again. The darkness that exuded from her being, finally falling into her role as Scarlet Witch, did not go lost when she pulled you into the bed. She was flustered, a vision of her past-self, an innocent Sokovian girl who found herself siding with the Avengers to save the world, was clear as day for a moment. Shame filled her features when she ran her fingers down your mutilated thighs, the tips finding the womb tattoo she had gifted you with.

She cupped her face and for a moment, you swore you were back in her universe. You gained clarity, mind coming to terms with the recent events as you place a hand above her own. Wanda was broken, tears filling her eyes as she allowed herself to be weak for once, to be vulnerable before her star-crossed lover’s appearance.

“We’ll be together forever. I’m never letting you go again,” she murmured, her lips shining down upon yours. It was the first time during those weeks she was the slightest bit tender with you, while laying in bed, legs all interlaced with her dragging you on top, you knew you were home. “Kiss me.”

You spent what felt like hours devouring one another. Your brain was still woozy, mind overtaken by Wanda who made you hers over and over. Her nipples brushed against your own, skins slapping as you turned to one. There was no need to fight for dominance as Wanda would come out on top, groaning as she slipped her tongue between your lips.

“Come here, honey. It’s time for us to sleep,” Wanda whispered as she dragged your face to her chest. She guided you until your mouth brushed against one of her nipples. Curiously eyeing up at her with big, doe eyes made her smirk. “Go on, baby. You can suck. I remember you loved doing that with mommy. It was your favorite reward of them all.”

Latching onto her nipple felt natural. Wanda sighed with relief, beaming as she got to feel the happiness experienced in her previous universe. She spent years seeking you out after fighting Thanos. He had taken everything from her – her happiness, her love, and you. She was not proud of herself, of having succumbed to the Darkhold while taking the life of a rather powerful girl to gain her abilities. Bringing those fallen behind had soothed her grief. After all, Natasha and Tony had forever been part of the team she once called a family.

You sucked on her nipple for countless hours. A hand came to play with your hair, fingers drifting soothingly upon your scalp as your eye began closing once and for all. Wanda hummed quietly to a tune you found oddly familiar. While on the run after Germany, she always did love holding you close and whispering sweet Sokovian lullabies until you eventually succumbed to rest.

“Missed you,” you grumbled all tired and ready to fall asleep. You were barely conscious when she turned around with confusion over her features.

There were dreams you’d had which you didn’t know she’d tainted. For decades Wanda had found herself in that universe waiting for you to come to her. She was patient, a feline creature waiting for her prey to be vulnerable enough for the taking. Eyeing you happily, she found herself prouder than ever.

“Hey, look at me,” Wanda raised her eyebrows before roughly grabbing your chin. She pulled you from her nipple, eyes turning red as a sudden jolt of adrenaline shot through her. “You’ll be mommy’s good girl forever, won’t you.”

No hesitation was required for you to give your answer. Even with your jaw all sore, dry tear tracks adorning your flushed cheeks underneath the moonlight, you replied with a choked “Yes.”

For Wanda, that was enough to seal your fate without daring to look back at your previous freedom.

#cthulhus’ fanfics #wanda maximoff x reader #wanda maximoff x y/n #wanda maximoff x you #wanda maximoff x fem!reader #wanda maximoff x female reader #wanda maximoff smut #wanda maximoff imagine #wanda maximoff fanfiction

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sergeantbarnessdoll · 5 months ago

Note

I’m just thinking about Bucky denying that he doesn’t feel well because I’m a super solider, I can’t get sick!

So he goes and tells Dr. Raynor what’s going on during his next session. As it would turn out, super soldiers are immune to many physical things, but they aren’t immune to anxiety attacks.

While he’s gone to his session, Reader finds an old recipe book with a handwritten soup recipe inside of it. It’s probably as old as Bucky is, if not older— but it’s very well-preserved. She makes some of the soup for when Bucky returns, because no matter what, soup is an exemplary comfort food.

Bucky comes back and he could swear he smells something that he hasn’t smelled in decades, since he was a kid. He smells his grandmother’s soup recipe— but that can’t be right, right? His body’s lying to him, there’s no way it’s there, a century later.

As he walks into the kitchen, the scent gets stronger. Reader made soup just for him. His anxiety starts to evaporate like the steam from the soup.

After all: it’s made with the secret ingredient.

Made With Love » Bucky Barnes/Winter Soldier

Pairings: Boyfriend!Bucky Barnes x Girlfriend!Reader

Summary: Bucky comes home from therapy to find out that you made his grandma’s soup recipe.

Warnings: Fluff, language, mention of Anxiety, kissing, pet names

A/N: Thank you to the lovely anonymous person who requested this🩵

Written on my phone. My apologies for any mistakes.

Header made by @buckys-wintersoldier

GIF IS NOT MINE! Credit goes to the creator.

“Are you sure you’re ok, baby?” You asked while sitting on the bed and watching Bucky get dressed.

“Yes, I’m fine, doll.” Bucky answers.

You frowned. He sounds different. He doesn’t sound like his normal self. It worried you. You got off of the bed and walked over to Bucky.

“I hope you’re not getting sick.” You say worriedly, putting your hand on his forehead to make sure he doesn’t have a fever.

“I can’t get sick, doll.” He gently took your hand off his forehead and kissed the back of it. “I’m a Super Soldier, remember?” He says.

You pouted up at your boyfriend, knowing that something’s off about him, but you can’t figure out what it is.

“I have to go to therapy.” He sighs. “I’ll see you later, ok?” He says.

“Ok.” You sighed. “I love you.” You say, standing on your tippy toes to kiss his lips.

“I love you too, babydoll.” He says softly.

You watched him walk out of the bedroom and listened for the door to the apartment to close. You looked down at the basket of clean clothes that needs to be folded and hung up. You sighed loudly, not wanting to do it, but it needs to be done.

You grabbed the clothes that need to be hung up in the closet and took them in there, hanging them up. Your foot bumped an old box and knocked it over. You crouched down and picked up what fell out of it. You came across an old recipe book. You picked it up and opened it. The inside of the front cover was signed “Grandma Barnes”. That was enough to tell you that the recipe book once belonged to Bucky’s grandma.

You found a piece of paper with a handwritten recipe on it. You read the ingredients on it, seeing that it’s a recipe for soup. You got to thinking… if you make this for Bucky, he’ll feel better compared to how he felt this morning. Everyone loves soup, right? It’s comforting.

You wrote the ingredients down on a different piece of paper, making a grocery list. You put the recipe book on the kitchen counter and went to the grocery store to buy the ingredients for the soup. Meanwhile, Bucky was at his therapy session, not wanting to be there.

“How are you?” Dr. Raynor asks Bucky.

“I’m ok I guess.” Bucky answers and shrugs.

“What do you mean you guess?” She asks.

“I been feeling off for the past couple of days and I don’t know what it is.” He tells her. “My girlfriend thought I was getting sick, but I can’t get sick. Super Soldiers are immune to everything.” He says.

Dr. Raynor wrote what Bucky said down in her notebook, making him roll his eyes. He hates that fucking notebook.

“I think you’ve been experiencing Anxiety.” She tells him. “Are you still having those nightmares?” She asks.

“Not lately.” He answers honestly.

Dr. Raynor looked at Bucky for a few seconds, making sure he’s not lying before writing it down in her notebook.

“You’re just having some Anxiety.” She closed her notebook. “Like you said, Super Soldiers are immune to everything, but they’re not immune to Anxiety.” She explains. “Try talking about how you’re feeling with your girlfriend and you might feel better.” She says.

Bucky nods before leaving her office. He got his phone out of his pocket and texted you.

Bucky: I’m on my way home

Doll🩷: Ok see you in a little bit😘

Bucky smiles at your text before shutting his phone off and put it back in his pocket, making his way home.

Bucky sighs contently when he walks inside of yours and his apartment, closing the door behind him. He stops in his tracks when he smells something all too familiar. He knows that smell. It’s something he hasn’t smelt since he was a kid. He made his way to the kitchen to see a pot on the stove. He walked to the stove to look inside of the pot, seeing the soup his grandma made when he was a kid. He seen her recipe book and soup recipe a few inches away from the stove, which confirmed it for him.

“Baby, you’re home!” You smiled. “How was therapy? Did Dr. Raynor help you figure out why you haven’t been feeling good the past couple of days?” You asked.

“It was- I umm-” Bucky was too speechless to answer you.

He turned around so he was facing you. You looked at him, waiting for him to say something.

“Did you make this?” He asks, referring to the soup.

“Yes!” You answered. “You weren’t feeling good the past couple of days so I made you something comforting. I also found what I think is your grandma’s recipe book in our bedroom closet when I was putting away laundry.” You tell him.

“It is my grandma’s recipe book.” He says, picking the book up.

You stood there, watching him look at his grandma’s recipe book. You couldn’t tell if he was happy or you accidentally did something wrong.

“I overstepped, didn’t I?” You asked. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to. I thought you might want something from your childhood and-” Bucky kissed you before you could finish your sentence.

Bucky kissed you with so much passion that it took your breath away.

“You didn’t overstep in any way, babydoll. I’m just speechless, because I haven’t eaten this since I was a kid.” He explains. “I could marry you right now.” He says happily.

You smiled widely. You stood up on your tippy toes and kissed him sweetly.

“To answer your question, Dr. Raynor said I’ve been having Anxiety and talking to you about how I’m feeling might help.” He says, finally answering your question from a couple minutes ago.

“Is she going to give you medicine for it or something?” You asked curiously.

“No.” He answers. “Why would I need to take medicine when I have the most gorgeous girlfriend in the world?” He says.

You blushed when he called you gorgeous. Bucky kisses you passionately again.

“I love you more than anything in this world, doll.” Bucky whispers, looking deep in your eyes.

“I love you too, baby.” You say softly.

You kissed him once more before getting him a bowl of soup. He took a bite of it, savoring the taste of it.

“I think I just fell in love with you again.” Bucky says.

“Is it good?” You asked. “I know it’s probably not as good as how your grandma made it.” You say.

“It’s amazing! You made it just right.” He says.

“I also made it with everyone’s favorite special ingredient.” You tell him with a smile.

Bucky smiles widely, already knowing that special ingredient is love. You got yourself a bowl of soup and tried it. You savored the taste too.

“This is amazing.” You say, agreeing with Bucky.

“I told you.” He says with a smile.

There was a moment of silence while you two ate. Bucky looked at you with the look of love and adoration on his face. He reached over and gently put your hand in his.

“My grandma would’ve loved you.” He says softly with a smile.

“I bet she would’ve.” You say, smiling back.

🪖🪖🪖🪖🪖🪖🪖🪖🪖🪖🪖🪖🪖🪖🪖🪖🪖

-Bucky’s Doll

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ohimsummer · 1 year ago

Text

LOWKEY, SHE’S SO SWEET ft. SUGURU GETO

— minors dni, light angst?, suguru x fem! reader, penetrative sex, mention of gojo x reader (one kiss), slight dumbification, nipple play, biting/hickeys, making out, lovesick! suguru, what could’ve been a creampie, pussy taps, dry humping, reader gets a little flustered (duh it’s suguru), pussy whipped suguru ?, a little proofread

wc 3.3k

Gojo had a lot of bad habits. Eating an over abundance of sweets, not taking things seriously, hiding his feelings, along with procrastinating and, more importantly, avoiding things he shouldn’t.

“Since when were you such a coward?,” Shoko asks and elbows him in the ribs.

He faces away, a lip jutted out as he mumbles a response. “‘M not a coward, I just don’t like her in that way.”

Suguru stands nearby, lighting a cigarette as he eavesdrops on the conversation. The lighter falls deep into his pocket, while he’s wondering how he could have such an absolute idiot as his best friend. People who don’t like someone else ‘in that way’ don’t get butterflies when they kiss that person, but he digresses. If Gojo wants to let you go and keep denying his own feelings, so be it. Suguru will gladly swoop you up and make you his own. Ever since that kiss you and Satoru had shared, one the former was adamant meant nothing because he definitely wasn’t in love with you, the two of you had been avoiding each other for a few weeks now. Well, Gojo was avoiding you. Geto discovered through Shoko that you just didn’t want to force him into anything, putting Gojo’s feelings above your own and essentially condoning his childish actions—and that you were struggling to come to terms with the fact that you’d wasted your first real kiss on someone who apparently thought you meant nothing special.

A week after the incident, Geto was over at your place again, as he often was since you two did hang out a lot. Shoulders drooped, the usual playfulness in your voice is gone, he never gets a good look at your face and that’s on purpose. At that point, it was too hard to conceal your emotions about the whole thing—Geto can read you like an open book, and the conversation wouldn’t be worth the heartache. You’re nothing like yourself. If he’s being honest, Suguru’s annoyed and a little bit jealous that you’re this way over his friend. He could treat you so much better. He’s not the type that needs to be pushed so hard just to admit his feelings; the type to just up and pretend his friend of almost a decade doesn’t exist anymore over one kiss.

It’s not like Geto was being unfair here. He’d been eyeing you for years already, anyway, stuck watching you pine after—and now, lose sleep over—his snowy-haired best friend. Almost two months had passed, and this was the final straw to push Geto over the edge. If the strongest sorcerer in the world was going to waste both his own and your time, then Geto would move things along himself.

“Glad your mission went well.,” Suguru says as you usher him into your spacious apartment, coming to check on you after an especially grueling curse you’d been assigned to kill.

“Oh yeah, easy-peasy.,” you laugh. Your hand waves through the air as if swatting away a fly. “Didn’t even break a sweat.”

He’s used to this, your bravado after every mission, regardless of how dangerous it actually was. Something to lighten the mood after just putting your life on the line. You’re similar to Gojo in that aspect, only the tiredness behind your words and expression is far more evident, but you power through regardless. Calm and collected as ever, pouring yourself a glass of milk and gesturing a chilled water bottle at your guest in offering. Geto rests on the couch with an arm slung over the back as he watches you toss the half-empty jug within the fridge, before prancing over to him with a playful grin.

“Milk?” An airy chuckle puffs from his lips.

Your eyes narrow as you toss the bottle into his lap, your own glass hesitating before your mouth. “Listen, I had a craving while I was out, and it’s going to help my bones grow. I have to catch up to you and Gojo somehow.”

Your silly comment elicits a tugging at Suguru’s lips, ignoring again how you’ve started using his friend’s last name. There’s a flicker of discomfort that crosses your features at the thought of Gojo—he’s noticed your sudden unease at the mention of the sorcerer—before you’re chugging the milk in swift gulps. Geto sees the tension, traces of it at least, leave you through the relaxation of your shoulders.

“So,” you lower the glass just a little, tongue swiping the milk mustache below your nose. “Wanna watch a movie? You don’t have a mission tomorrow, right?”

A shake of his head. “Nope. I’m all yours for the night.” His cheeky words brings a warmth to your face.

Geto lets you pick the movie, giving in to you like he usually does, and accepts the invitation to sprawl out on your bed upstairs. It’s more spacious than the couch, and also adorned with various plushies to protect you both from the frights of the dreadful movie about to play. It’s a typical psychological horror—filled with cheap jumpscares and agonizing suspense in the form of characters lingering through the shadows. He’s never seen this film before, so Geto should be paying attention because he knows you like to discuss after, but he just can’t. Not with both your sides pressed together and the heat of your body radiating onto him, or when your head lolls against his shoulder, face half-hidden behind the fuzzy dog plush in your arms.

It’s sweet, the way you jolt when a character springs from behind a corner, squealing in fright, lowering just a little further behind the stuffed animal. His heart races a little faster when you cower against him, eyes soften a little more at your goofy comments about the idiotic choices of the cast members. You, laughing at your own words, which makes him laugh in turn, and Suguru feels like he’s just falling more in love with you and your being.

Another hair-raising scene occurs, and Geto slinks a comforting arm around your shoulder, face growing warm when you shuffle to sink further into him. From the corner of his eye, he can see the fear written on your face. It’s amusing and just endearing really, how you’re seemingly more frightened by the fake movie monster than an actual cursed spirit. His hand snakes over your face to cover your eyes, fingers spread so you may peek through, and Geto chuckles when you scrunch your nose up at him.

“Are you trying to say I look scared–!”, The accusation barely leaving your mouth before a loud gasp erupts from your throat, the source of your shock being the sudden loud noise of a bookshelf falling in the movie. Alas, your boldness is thwarted by another cheap scare.

“Ah, silly me. Of course not.” Geto’s voice is mocking as he brushes hair from your face. “So fearless, I can tell.”

“Shut up, that doesn’t count, you distracted me.”

He laughs again. “Oh, so you’re gonna pin that reaction on me?”

You mumble into the stuffed dog something unintelligible, face half concealed against Geto’s chest. His hand falls to rest on your shoulder, drawing circles and then hearts into the warm skin of your body. You squeeze an arm behind yourself to wrap around him, giggling when he turns to glance at your smaller hand on his other side.

“So you won’t be scared the rest of the movie.,” you tease with a toothy grin.

“Me?” He thinks you’re ridiculous in the cutest way. “I haven’t jumped once.”

“Yeah, whatever, you’re lucky I was too busy watching the movie to notice you shivering over there.” The faint smell of his cologne is intoxicating from this distance. “Your heart’s probably pounding right now.”

It is, Geto thinks, but not for the reasons you’re thinking. Less of the movie, and more of your pretty face inches from his. The film continues playing on your laptop, a scene shot at night and through the dark screen, Geto admires you in the reflection. Those wide, doe-eyes seemingly hyper-focused on what’s in front of you, darting to take in everything on display—maybe you’d find an Easter egg in this shot, some reference to another movie, perhaps? Your breathing hitches when a sound makes the main character twist to look behind them, and Geto finds himself hugging you just a little bit tighter.

“I’m fine, y’know.” You huff the sentence out at him, catching his curious gaze through the dark reflection of your laptop. “Why are staring at me like that?”

Your head raises, turning to confront him. Amongst the love in Suguru’s eyes, you see hints of fondness, soft and subtle as he studies you. And behind that, something else that’s not so innocent. It all intrigues you.

“Got something on your mind, Suguru?”

This was supposed to be happening with Gojo. Or you’d originally hoped it would, anyway.

The movie was long forgotten, laptop dark as the credits had ended a while ago. The device teetered along the edge of your bed before falling, luckily cushioned by the discarded yellow puppy plush that’d met the floor through Geto’s foot.

Your moans bounce around the room, occasionally colliding with his grunts of satisfaction as Suguru’s tongue danced around in your mouth, him nibbling on your bottom lip as a hand crept up your shirt. Shaky legs squeeze around his waist, parted by Geto’s knee, and you grind against the flex of his thigh to relieve the building ache in your core.

There’s the soft smack of parting lips whenever Suguru breaks away, eager to shower kisses along your exposed neck, littered with the dark marks of his possession—then he returns for the taste of strawberry on your lips again. There it is again, this endearing sweetness about you, it’s engraved into your very being: your laugh, your smile, your silly jokes, the flavor of your kiss. A needy grip, wandering hands that don’t know their destination, rubbing over Suguru’s shoulders, his back, gripping his nape and threading amongst dark strands of long hair. In the back of his mind, he can’t help wonder if Gojo had an experience such as this and, if so, how he could ever risk never being able to go through it again?

It only takes one hand to unclasp your bra with expert fingers. The undergarment is inched away to expose your breasts, and soon, your shirt with it to leave your top half unveiled for Suguru’s longing gaze.

“Fuck, you’re perfect…,” he mutters to himself, pink dusting the tops of his cheeks. Satoru’s such an idiot, he thinks, missing out on this, on you.

Your hot pants graze his skin; fuzzy, indecisive eyes flicker between Geto’s flushed face and the prominent tent in his sweats, where it just brushes your panties and sends a flood of wetness between your thighs. Trembling hands finally find purchase on his shoulder and behind his neck, where you pull him towards your body, arched to raise your tits and the gesture sends an intense throbbing straight to Suguru’s dick. Offering yourself to him like that, wordlessly begging for his mouth to indulge in you—he’s wrapped so right around your finger, just a lovesick fool for you.

A sharp gasp slips out—Geto’s mouth meets one of your stiffened nipples, rolling it on his tongue before tugging it between his teeth. ‘Ah! Suguru!’ you mewl his name with your head sinking into plush pillows, and he gropes your other lonely breast with a large hand, thumbing the hard bud and pinching it between his fingers.

It’s easy to match the greedy rhythm of his hips, and you uplift your own to meet the grinding of his erection against your heated pussy. A loving kiss pressed to your chest, over the swell of your tits, a bite or two in between while he worships your body. “M—!” Geto cuts you off with a harsh suck of your nipple, prompting a desperate whine from your throat. “O-oh, god—! Fuck, Suguru, k-keep going!”

He pauses the feverish assault on your chest, licking a stripe up the center of your throat, and muttering sweet nothings over your glistening skin before continuing ministrations on the pebbled buds. Your legs hug tight around Geto’s hips, pulling him ever closer until the stiffness in his pants massages your clit through sopping wet panties. Drool soaks your chest, messy and riddled with a new array of bite marks and blemishes. Evidence of Suguru’s obsession, and a clear claim over you because you’re all his now.

“Suguruu…”, you jut out a lip when dark eyes move in your direction, tongue hesitating on your nipple. “Hurry, pleasee?” You whine and flutter long lashes, purposefully grinding against his length again in a needy plea.

He gives one last suck on the erect nub, causing your mouth to fall open with a small moan, and Geto balances himself on an elbow next to your head, easing fingers beneath the waistline of your panties. Snorting, his eyes trail over your heaving form, watching your own fingers tug at the hem of his pants.

“My darling’s so eager, isn’t she?” It’s a soft taunt that fills your ears, makes you conscious of the blazing heat in your veins that sets fire to your skin. “Can’t be that desperate for me, can you? Want me in this pussy that bad?”

Your clit throbs in response, and you keep fingers tucked into Suguru’s sweats, pulling them down for a glimpse at the dark hairs of his happy trail, before growing a little more embarrassed and hiding it away again. He chuckles at your shy behavior.

“Shut up.,” you search the room, pouting, for something else to look at. “You can’t get me like this and then be so mean.”

He lowers himself towards you. “Like what?” A little closer, now locks of his hair brush your face. “Getting this pussy all sloppy and wet for me? Begging to have my cum stuffed in her?”

Eyes widening, you break his gaze, cramming your lids shut as your face twists with a look of bashfulness. “God, Suguru, you are sooo–!” Hot? Dirty? Perverted? “Embarrassing!,” you finally groan in frustration.

Suguru sits up to stare down at the soaked wet patch staining your panties. ‘I’ll tell you what’s embarassing…’ and you give a playful glare at his comment. He chuckles, and adjusts both your legs to rest on his left side before fingers hook beneath the fabric, pulling it off in one swift motion. The slickness of your pussy is a sight to behold, mouth-watering. Juices cascade down your thighs, drenches his protruding digits as he slides them up and down your fluttering hole that threatens to suck him in and never let go.

“ ‘S not my fault, she just knows what she likes.” Geto marvels at how easily his thick finger sinks in, cock twitching at your lengthy whine. “And I think right now she’d like me to break her in.”

He’s so insufferable. “Suguru–“

“God, I’m gonna make this pussy mine, just wait.,” he sighs. The squeeze of your walls at his promise is mesmerizing—your words can’t fly high enough to reach him in the clouds. “Til you can’t remember anything but the shape of my dick, gonna breed this tight fucking hole–“

“I think actions speak louder than words, Suguru.”

Your little taunt pulls Geto out of his daydreams. “Oh, you’re going to be much louder than my actions, darling.”

It’s like sand on your tongue the way your mouth goes dry, him grinning at your flustered expression as he frees his cock from it’s prison. Precum drools from the tip, leaking down his length to leave a stain on his dark sweats. Your tongue darts over your lips, craving just a taste, a desire to encompass his bobbing length in the safe warmth of your mouth.

He glides it over your spasming pussy, making a mess as precum and slick smears everywhere. Amusement dances in Geto’s eyes when he slaps the tip a few times against your clit, sending a jolt through you and bringing a cry from within your throat. He does it again, circles your clit with his tip until your hips are gyrating to match his movements and tears prick the corners of your eyes. ‘Suguru…’ falls off your lips once more in a pathetic plea, and Geto can’t wait any longer when you blink so innocently at him, sigh so prettily at his teasing motions.

It burns a little, the stretch of his fat tip making its way inside. But Geto is slow and patient—he notes any sign of discomfort as he awaits your go ahead, as torturous as it is, especially when the deepest parts of your pussy are calling for him. Your gooey walls are snug around his length, holding him so tight and inviting him inside as inches sink deeper into your fluttering heat—it’s maddening. As Geto finally bottoms out, he cages you between his arms, face flushed pink and framed by long, jet-black waves of hair. So pretty. And his pleasured smile wavers for just a second. You’re so fucked out already that you don’t even know you just mumbled that out loud. Looks like you’re both a pair of lovesick fools.

“F–fuck me, please.,” you whimper. He won’t make you ask twice. Lazy yet deliberate, the drag of Suguru’s cock has your head reeling, especially when he keeps brushing that spot inside you, sending floods of euphoria throughout your body.

Your arms move to wrap around his neck, tangling fingers in his hair and pulling him closer. “S-so full, Suguru, it f–eels, feels s’ fucking good, don’t stop.” And he replies with a low grunt, ‘shit, I won’t, could never’ as his pace quickens. Tears cast a blurry haze over your vision, sounds of skin against skin picking up in your ears, along with desperate, broken moans from either of you. The sharpness of your nails leave a collection of scratches along Suguru’s back, and the slight pain of it all only fuels the plunge of his dick, making itself at home within the gumminess of your walls. He uses a hand to shift your pelvis, moving himself for a deeper angle and fucking hard into your sweet spot. ‘Oh, fuck, fuck!’ You cry into Geto’s ear, tugging his hair and grasping at him to fit against you. ‘S-Suguru..! Right there–!’, finished off with a loud cry. Your orgasm is right around the corner, a blazing pool of desire overflowing in the pit of your stomach.

“C–um..!” You’re starting to babble, mindless and stupid. “Inside, inside, Suguru!”

And he wants to, trust, but it wouldn’t exactly be responsible without a condom on or knowing whether or not you’re on the pill. Maybe if he was a little less caring—or not tucked away in the crevice of your neck to hide from the hypnotizing power of your eyes—he’d make good on his promise and fill your pussy up until you couldn’t take it anymore. It’s so tempting, the heavy urge to mark your insides with his seed, til they were coated in white, but he just can’t be sure. So while you’re shivering and crying, high off your own orgasm, Suguru uses his last remnants of sensibility. He pulls out, low, raspy grunts and a hiss leaving him at the sight of his cum painting your thighs, spurting onto your swollen clit and leaking down to your quivering hole.

He collapses next to you, chests both heaving and an arm moves to wrap around your waist. Your teary eyes glaze over Geto in his divine glory, too dazed to see him doing the same to you.

“What’s with that face?,” he pants a short chuckle at the pout of your lips.

You turn further onto your side, pressing your bare bodies together and wrapping an arm around his neck, the other rubbing through his hair. “Told you to cum inside me, you wasted it everywhere.”

Suguru scoffs, playful. “Couldn’t risk it, sweetheart, I’d be hooked after one go.”

A shiver runs down his spine as you brush a thumb over his nape. “Oh, is that so bad? Thought you were gonna stuff me, Sugu, you don’t wanna breed this little hole and fill me up?”

“…Keep talking like that and I might.”

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