#witches-unruly-heart
Note
🔥
(I’m sure I’ll get some hate for this) I don’t understand the obsession with Pedro Pascal. He just seems like a generic dude to me, like any run-of-the-mill actor. I just don’t see the appeal, I guess, and I think people are too obsessed with him.
Send me a 🔥for an unpopular opinion
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happy scriblings & playing games (VERY LIGHT new zelda spoilers btw i guess lol)
#witch hat tag#orufrey#me giving up shrines bc of severe joycon drift: this would rly suck if i was oru and qifrey was next to me and i was trying to impress him#qif is better suited to pkmn. having a gaggle of unruly & cute creatures around him feels natural.#he always has oru's starter (traded immediately every time ❤️) 4 adorable creatures to represent the girls#and an unfathomable being to represent a brushbug. the 4 are named after the girls but maybe they get to recommend which things.#like riche would want something really cool & strong & cute. agott something really technically good to help qifrey out..#but qifrey cant let his girls battle. so they're all weak. he sends out oru to protect everyone for him ❤️#oru just plays games to distract from the work grind so he plays them all normally.#they swapped the joycons of their black and white switches long ago too..normal regular tasselcore friendship things..#oru doesnt have the heart to tell qifrey...THAT YOUR JOYCON HAS DRIFT AND SUCKS!!!!!!! he'll accept it...evil joycon of love......#it's weird that im drawing happy sweet art when i feel kinda shitty atm ...
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Unknown asteroids #1
🦭Adorno (21029) – of Spanish origin; means to decorate/embellish; (for females only) if Sun, Mars, Saturn or the Descendant are badly aspected by this asteroid in the natal chart, it can indicate being “objectified” by men; if one of the mentioned planets/angle are positively aspected by this asteroid, it can indicate fighting for women's rights when it comes to the objectification of women
🦭Advincula (23017) – of Latin origin; denotes someone advanced in a certain skill/job/life experiences OR someone who can advance a certain field
🦭Aenna (1155) – of Hebrew origin; means favor/grace, God has favored me; denotes someone getting blessed by a higher force
🦭Aemilia (159) – of Latin origin; means industrious; denotes a workaholic and/or someone who works in engineering; a second meaning: to strive/excel
🦭Aeschylus (2876) – father of Greek tragedy drama; denotes a strong affinity for drama works (either in reading or writing them); if it aspects Uranus, it can bring popularity due to scandals/dramatic past
🦭Bengt (1846) – of Latin origin, but frequently used in Sweden; means blessed
🦭Cappi (49777) – of Italian origin; means lucky
🦭Elpis (59) – of Greek origin; means "the spirit of hope"; like the star card in tarot, this asteroid shows us where we are most hopeful
🦭Gorky (2768) – of English origin; means awkward/strange
🦭Khandrika (12068) – of Indian origin; means small village/small place
🦭Khalat (468725) – of Indian origin; means robe; denotes someone with high social status, someone who dresses expensive
🦭Libby (5672) – of British origin; means God’s promise; if relevant in synastry, it can indicate fated connections, someone given to us from the above
🦭Odeh (34786) – of Arabic origin; denotes someone (or something) coming back into your life, similar to Aesculapia (1027)
🦭Oenomaos (164555) – from Greek mythology (corresponds to King Oenomaus of Pisa); shows love for consuming wine; if prominent in the natal chart, it can point to an alcoholic
🦭Oenone (215) – from Greek mythology; a nymph abandoned by her lover, Paris, who choose Helen of Troy over her; prominent in people who have been cheated on/left by lovers
🦭Okugi (5174) – of Japanese origin; means the heart or depth of something, secrets, mysteries, esoterica
🦭Okuni (7769) – of Japanese origin; means homeland or native country
🦭Olathe (18984) – its meaning comes from the Shawnee language; means lovely/beautiful
🦭Paeonia (1061) – of Latin origin; denotes the latin term for peony (symbols of peony: love, honor, romance, beauty)
🦭Palach (1834) – of Russian origin; means executioner, hangman, butcher, torturer
🦭Piedade (11912) – of Portugese origin; means pity, mercy, kindness towards an enemy
🦭Pierre (1392) – of French origin; means stone, rock
🦭Quigley (18699) – of Irish origin; means “from the mother’s side”; denotes someone very similar to their own mother or her family, heavily attached to the mother figure or someone who has grown up without a father; a second meaning: “unruly hair”; denotes someone with crazy hair
🦭Quinn (107561) – of Irish origin; means wise, intelligent
🦭Quito (10793) – of Spanish origin; means “center of the world”; denotes someone popular and/or famous
🦭Seiwa (16700) – of Japanese origin; means saint; denotes a person of superior knowledge and virtue; a second meaning: peace, calm
🦭Vangelis (6354) – of Greek origin; means good news
🦭Vate (12312) – of English origin, but borrowed from Latin; means prophet, fortune teller, inspired writer; prominent in witches and tarot readers
🦭Vedrana (176014) – of Croatian and Serbian origin; denotes someone who is lighthearted, joyful, cheerful
🦭Xenia (625) – of Greek origin; denotes a great host, someone hospitable and welcoming with guests and strangers in need
(21029, 23017, 1155, 159, 2876, 1846, 49777, 59, 2768, 12068, 468725, 5672, 34786, 164555, 215, 5174, 7769, 18984, 1061, 1834, 11912, 1392, 18699, 107561, 10793, 16700, 6354, 12312, 176014, 625)
#astro#astro community#astrology#astro placements#astro observations#astro posts#astroblr#astro blog#astro notes#asteroids#asteroid astrology#asteroid observations
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Problem Child: Angel Reyes x Reader
Tagging: @crazy4chickennuggets @kmc1989 @oureternalbond @wakeama @witches-unruly-heart @keyweegirlie @trhett21 @annetje @infinity-mars @danzer8705 @im-just-a-mississippi-girl @appreciatelove @the-wandering-lunatic @weiwei0210 @anime-weeb-4-life @multifandomloversworld @harperdoodle @cheyrenee @est1887 @prettyinpunk85 @adaydreamaway08 @thanossexual @briefpersonenemy @creativitybeware @crimeshowjunkie @librarian1002 @mortal--soul @buddinglinguist @spookyboogyuniverse @spaghettificationandpretzels @nu1freakshow @thebaileybugle @legally-a-bastard bonsaijoons @sclitvdes @justreblogginfics
Sequel to Valeria
Ten minutes…
Ten minutes is what you allow yourself to grieve, to cry, to feel all of the emotions that are coursing through your system in the aftermath of the revelation that Angel has a daughter.
It’s agony, this feeling in your chest. You’ve felt it before after your Nana died and you feel it again as you sit in your car outside of Angel’s house. Your chest’s tight, and you think about that baby, left all alone on the porch, the same way you were all those years ago.
Anything could have happened. Someone else could have taken her, the two of you may have decided to go out instead, Angel may have come over to yours. Lord knows how long she could have been out there. These are the thoughts that ramble through your head as you sit there with both hands on the steering wheel staring straight ahead.
There is no doubt that the baby is Angel’s. You’ve seen pictures of him as a child and Valeria is the spitting image of him. You wonder where this leaves the two of you, if Skylar genuinely couldn’t cope or if she did this to teach him a lesson.
She’s your problem now… The letter had read.
Barely a couple of weeks old and already labelled a problem.
You think your mother must have said something similar to your Nana when she’d dropped you off.
You wipe the tears away from your cheeks with the back of your hand, before tilting the rearview mirror to face you. You stare back at your reflection and take a deep breath.
You know what you have to do, someone needs to take control because you know right now that Angel isn’t in a condition to do it. You can’t imagine what this must feel like for him, you know he’s not going to cope, not on his own. He needs some stability, someone who can remain firm, who can guide him when he falters.
You pick up your phone and thumb through the contacts until you find the name that you’re searching for.
“Felipe. It’s me.” You say when he picks up the phone. “Angel needs you.”
***
You’re not coming back. Angel knows that and it devastates him. It feels like his whole life is crashing down around his head, like he can’t catch a second to breath. He cradles the baby to his chest, his lips brushing over her soft skin. He has to push all of that aside, he has to think about Valeria because she has to be his priority right now.
His gaze comes to rest on his father. Felipe is seated at the kitchen table, the letter from Skylar clasped in his hands as he studies it.
“Lila’s not coming back.” Angel says quietly.
“Give her time.” Felipe says as he sets the letter down. “It’s a lot to take in.”
Angel shakes his head because he knows this is too much. He can’t ask you to take on a baby. The two of you have never talked about kids. He didn’t know if you wanted them or not. He figured there would be plenty of time to figure that out later.
He’s surprised when he hears the key in the lock. You mutter a curse as your hip bumps against the door handle, crossing over the threshold with a bassinet tucked under your arm and several bags filled with God knows what.
“Give Valeria here.” Felipe says, raising to his feet and reaching out for the baby. “Go help her.”
He’s already in motion, his heart thudding against his rib cage as he catches one of the bags just as it slips from your grasp. He takes note of the diapers and formula, before he takes the bassinet from you.
“I managed to get this stuff from Carmen, she keeps a bunch of it aside for new parents who are struggling to make ends meet.” You explain as you haul the other bags with you into the kitchen. “Bishop was there, he had a lot of questions, but I told him you’d call him tomorrow. He seemed to be ok with that.”
Angel doesn’t even know where to begin. The words catch in his throat and there’s an ache in his chest as he looks at you because even now, you’re still taking care of him, not just him but Valeria too.
“I think we have everything we need for tonight.” You say as you set the bags down on the table. “I can get the rest of the stuff on my list when the stores open up in the morning.”
“I thought…”
“I needed a minute.” You tell him quietly. “You know what happened to me, Valeria being dropped off like that…” You don’t have to say anything else. Angel gets it and so does Felipe. “I want to be there for her and for you. I want to be part of this little family.”
“Are you sure?” he asks you quietly, his thumb tracing over the blush of your cheek.
You nod your head before your arms wrap around his waist and you draw him close. It feels good to have you back in his arms, he finds the gesture reassuring. You’ve always been a port in a storm for him and the fact you’re here right now soothes him more than he would ever admit to anybody else.
“Yea.” You tell Angel, your fingertips toying with the buttons on his shirt. “I want this, I want this with you.”
“Ok Mi Reina.” Angel murmurs as a smile ghosts across his lips. “Let’s do it. Let’s be a family.”
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#angel reyes#angel reyes x reader#angel reyes x you#mayans mc#angel reyes imagine#mayans fx#angel reyes fanfiction#angel reyes fic
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"Evasive Maneuvers" - Part 4
Read the next part
Summary: You've been in love with Sebastian since the moment you knocked him on his arse on your first day. Entering your sixth year, you finally begin working up the courage to confess your feelings when he suddenly becomes the best Beater Hogwarts has seen in decades - and subsequently becomes the school's most eligible bachelor.
Author's Notes: sorry for the little cliffhanger/teaser a few days ago hehe. i've been really excited to post this chapter and wanted to give you a sneak peek. anyway, seb is a mess, but i promise he gets better at expressing his feelings :) (i forgot to mention in previous parts, but all characters in this fic are aged 18+)
Sebastian cursed as his shoe caught on a loose floor tile, nearly stumbling down the short flight of steps leading to the Potions classroom. He’d woken up on the wrong side of the bed and everything else had gone downhill from there. He’d arrived at morning quidditch practice to an onslaught of rain. Despite the wind and near-torrential downpour, Imelda had insisted they run drills until their allotted hour on the pitch was up. It was their final practice before their match against Gryffindor. Not only was it one of the most anticipated matches of the season, but Madam Kogawa had also chosen this particular match to evaluate the two houses’ players for a chance to represent the school at the Championships. Sebastian barely had time to cast a half-arsed drying charm over his robes before realizing Potions had started ten minutes ago. Now he was barreling through the halls, irritated and hoping that his tardiness wouldn’t affect his partner’s grade as well as his own.
Remembering that his best friend stood just beyond the door in front of him, he paused to run a hand through his unruly curls and adjust his tie. He hadn’t abandoned all decorum in his tardiness, thank you very much. For some reason she was the only one he cared to check his appearance for. The whole world could think him a rumpled, muddy mess, but as long as he maintained his dashing charm in front of her, he was content. This was, of course, all due to the fact that she was his best chum. That was the only reason he could think of. She was a fixture in his life, occupying more space in his heart and his head than he had the words to describe. So it naturally followed that her opinion would matter above the rest. It had been like this for as long as he could remember. Just last week he’d spent the galleons he’d been saving for some new quidditch gloves on a lovely necklace for her. He told her he’d come across it just as he was leaving Honeydukes. In truth, he’d spotted it at Gladrags a week before the start of term and knew it would look perfect on her. He’d only visited the sweetshop after he had acquired the necklace. He decided to downplay his enthusiasm for her gift, just in case she got the wrong idea.
Sebastian was no fool to the nuances of courtship. Ominis had approached him over the summer to ask him for his blessing about courting Anne. Solomon, who had always had a soft spot for the Gaunt boy, and encouraged his endeavor with uncharacteristic enthusiasm. Both boys knew that Anne was her own woman and that asking for his blessing was a mere formality, but Ominis insisted on speaking to both of her remaining family members just in case. He knew what it was like to lose family and he didn’t want to risk causing a rift between any of the Sallows.
Sebastian’s feelings toward his Gryffindor weren’t similar in the least. He’d seen witches and wizards fawning over one another as they walked arm-in-arm at Hogsmeade. He knew how ridiculous his classmates would act when the object of their affections glanced their way. Sebastian Sallow had never acted that way with her a day in his life. Sure, her presence left him invariably flustered, but that was simply because they were the closest of friends. He didn’t know how to put a name to the feelings she roused within him, but calling it something as trivial as “infatuation” seemed nothing less than insulting. No, she was far too extraordinary for that.
He was looking forward to putting this mess of a morning behind him. Spending time with her never failed to lift his spirits - which is why it hurt twice as hard when he stepped into the classroom and saw a familiar ginger nuisance standing in his spot. He was rooted to the spot, incredulous and fuming. He’d never taken issue with Weasley in any year previous, but since the start of term he seemed to be in the one place that was rightfully Sebastian’s - by his Gryffindor’s side.
“Ah, Mr. Sallow. Good of you to finally join us,” Professor Sharp drawled from the front of the classroom. “If you’d like to avoid losing Slytherin any house points for today I’d recommend finding a seat. There seems to be an open stool next to Mr. Clopton.”
Begrudgingly Sebastian stalked over to Everett’s workbench and dropped his books onto the table with far more force than necessary. From across the room his Gryffindor shot him a sympathetic smile. It was like the first rays of sun had disintegrated the clouds from this morning’s offending storm. Looking around, she hastily scribbled a note onto a spare bit of parchment before waving her wand over it. With a soft pop the note appeared next to him. He smiled and snatched it from the table, unfurling it with speed.
Sorry, Garreth volunteered to take your place when Sharp noticed you hadn’t yet arrived. Catch you after class?
He let the note fall to the table and plastered on a nonchalant smile. She seemed relieved, and for some reason that only seemed to irritate him further. Did being his partner mean so little to her that she was already content to continue on? To add insult to injury he was now forced to spend the next hour with Clopton. He was an alright bloke, but his obsession with quidditch meant that he was one of Sebastian’s biggest fans. He felt flattered, truly, but Everett’s presence began grating on his nerves once he started butting into the rare free time he spent with his Gryffindor. Seeking out a distraction from the hornet’s nest of feelings trapped within his head he turned to Everett to ask how far along they were in the potion recipe.
The Ravenclaw stood stock-still, as though he couldn’t believe Sebastian was actually talking to him after nearly a month of dismissed conversations.
“Everett?” he prompted, exhaustion leeching the annoyance from his tone. He seemed to come to his senses at last and fumbled for the open potion book propped up against their cauldron.
“Just here,” he replied, pointing to the second step. “I’ve already gathered the necessary ingredients, so we can just carry on with the chopping.” Sebastian thought he sounded far too enthusiastic for their first class of the day, but obliged. He’d just finished crushing the last bit of moonstone when Everett piped up. Unsurprisingly, and much to his dismay, he began prodding Sebastian about his broom skills. Sebastian gave a few obliging nods as he tuned out the boy’s rambling, intent on finishing their brew as quickly as he could.
“The maneuvers you pull during practice are incredible! And on a school-issued broom, no less!” He carried on. Haughtily he added, “Of course, my broom is one of the fastest on the market. Begged my parents for one of those models for a year. A newer model was close to being released by the time they finally caved.”
Sebastian gave a noncommittal hum and focussed on listening in on the couple occupying his usual station. His hand stilled over the cutting board. Couple? He wondered. When had that word popped into his head? She and Weasley were hardly a couple. She was his best friend, and he was sure that he’d be the first one to know if she were even remotely interested in courting someone. To prove it, he looked up from his slicing to affirm their mutual distaste.
Only it didn’t look like distaste at all. She stood as she always did, elbows on the stained wood as she ran down the ingredient list with the tip of her wand. Weasley towered over her, reading over her shoulder with one arm supporting his weight atop the table. His attention caught on the boy’s face. He was smiling. It was soft and fond and trained entirely on her. Sebastian seethed. He didn’t know why this small act of affection lit a fire in his veins, but it just felt innately wrong, like stretching a muscle just a tad further than it was meant to bend. She was none the wiser as his larger hand brushed against hers in his attempt to turn the page. She turned her head then, realizing for the first time how close they were and blushed. This was ludicrous. Any closer and he’d practically have her pressed against the table. And what if he leaned down? What if he held her impossibly closer and pressed his lips against hers? Would she kiss him back? Sebastian wondered if she’d tug on his tie, pull him down and tangle a fist in his curls.
This was ridiculous. Unbelievable. The whole bloody world was spinning off its axis and Sebastian was the only one who seemed to notice. If anyone should be kissing her, it should be him. He was supposed to be the only one to-
Oh.
Oh, dear.
The world was no longer spinning off its axis. In fact, it wasn’t spinning at all. Everything and everyone was frozen and Sebastian was left to feel all these feelings in painful crystal clarity. He’d read about romance in the muggle novellas Anne had teased him for buying, but on paper everything was straightforward. The hero knew he loved the girl, and the girl loved him right back. In all the books he’d read the couples were inseparable. There was never a question of whether they loved each other, not one true doubt to be found. From Prologue to Epilogue he felt safe knowing that the couple would ultimately get their ‘happily ever after.’ Things were different once the books were back on their shelves. Happy endings were rare, if they even existed at all. His parents were kindred spirits, their love for one another so powerful that it flowed into every nook and cranny of their home. His mother used to tuck them in and say that she loved their father so much, the world decided they needed two children to carry it all. Those happy honeyed years were tucked safely away in his mind, where the memories of his parents’ demise and the rest of reality couldn’t touch them.
Love was soft and sweet, and the world was a sharp and insatiable thing. The years following their move to Feldcroft were a special type of purgatory. The memories of his beloved childhood swirled cruelly in his mind’s eye each night, just vivid enough to remember yet just out of reach. A shard of fear pierced his chest. He couldn’t bear to lose her like that. He didn’t think he could stand getting so close to another person only to have them inevitably ripped away. Sebastian Sallow yearned for fairy tale endings, but he didn’t know if he believed in them anymore.
A high-pitched hissing tore his focus away from his epiphany and the world spun on as if he hadn’t just realized something beautiful and horrible and terrifying. It intensified and he realized the noise was coming from Weasley’s cauldron. He could only watch on as it erupted, sending metal shards and acidic splatters every which way. Garreth tackled his Gryffindor to the floor, shielding her with his own body while the failed potion smoked and ate through his robes. She frantically tore the tattered robe from his body before it could make contact with the rest of him and the two froze. Although he couldn’t hear them over the chaos the rest of the room had erupted into, he knew she was asking if he was alright. He nodded and Sebastian saw red as he brushed her hair back to look at a nasty cut on her forehead. Garreth’s discarded robe smoked behind him, his shirt torn in a few places, and gently held her face in his hands as he checked for more cuts. He only barely registered Sharp dismissing the class for the day before he was grabbing his things and slipping out of the classroom.
.
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Taglist: @snickette, @findingtruenorth23, @plooloo, @paganicher, @smilesworldsposts, @snoozebun, @crazyllamasurfer, @pixie-dustss, @margottheviking, @lollife1617, @tired-meg, @somethingiswrongwithme
#sebastian sallow#ominis gaunt#garreth weasley#sebastian sallow x reader#sebastian sallow x you#sebastian sallow x mc#angst#fluff#pining
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It's Bingo Time!!
I usually do some kind of bingo for my birthday/spring and I figured it'd be fun to do one again this year. Though the timeline may be different, we'll see lol.
Prompts are all spring/summer themed or smut. Any and all of them can be made as suggestive as you’d like, you don’t need to keep the smut fics to the smut prompts!
Submissions can be anything! A mood board, headcanons, drabbles, gif sets, a one shot, a mini series/collection including all the prompts, social media au’s, whatever you want!!
The rest of the rules are under the cut!
Prompts can be made into any genre, make it super spicy, super fluffy, or heartbreaking. Just make sure to include any and all appropriate warning at the top and in the tags!!
Fics can be a ship, reader insert, an OC, whatever you want! This is for you to have some fun and get creative!
Accepted Fandoms:
-Anything and Everything!! Yes!! I am always wide open to every fandom out there! It does not need to be something I write for, regularly read or even know what it is! It’s your choice!
Some examples:
Law and Order (svu, oc, og, ci),Criminal Minds, 911, MCU, One Chicago, NCIS, Grey’s Anatomy, OUAT, CAOS, Private Practice, Abbott Elementary and everything and anything in between!
Rules!
You must tag me @storiesofsvu and use the hastag #kbdaybingo2024 on each creation. There’s a chance I will put together a masterlist (and if I do I likely won’t until it’s all over)
Bingo begins May 1st and runs all the way to June 27th
Only post ONE creation PER DAY, and only one square per creation
No under age oc’s/yn’s
Tag all and every warning appropriately at the top of the fic
Anything over 1000 words MUST be under a readmore
Please appropriately tag your characters! I don’t want to see a list of side characters who have one line or are only mentioned when it’s a specific character x reader fic!
For each fic you write, you’ll earn a ballot and at the end I’ll do a draw and there will be a winner!! (don’t ask me what the prize is yet lol)
Everyone is welcome to participate! (anyone submitting or reading smut must be over 18!!)
If you have any questions feel free to message me!!
___________
tagging some people I think might be interested!
@whiteberryx @rustyzebra @iamnotoriginalphil @happenstnces @bullet-prooflove @hotchfiles @prentiss-theorem @scorpsik @thatesqcrush @witches-unruly-heart @polkadotpenguin16 @escapingrealtiylovinginsanity @waitingfortheendtocome @five-bi-five-mind @demonicbaby666 @baubeautyandthegeek @safficranger @valentinesfrog @milfandh0ney @asolitaryrose3 @alexblakegf @hotchs-big-hands @just-a-torn-up-masterpiece @mxmmyprentiss @alexblakeisgay @jordanstark007 @chestnutninny @maximoffcarter @lizdonnelly @v3nusxsky
#writing#writing bingo#criminal minds#law and order svu#law and order#grey's anatomy#ncis#abbott elementary#chicago pd#chicago med#mayans mc#marvel mcu
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Not A Bad Idea
Fandom: A Murder at the End of the World (Not Retreat)
Pairing: David Alvarez x reader
CW: smut, pure filth… language, p in v sex, an*l sex, cunnilingus, tit play, ass play, etc.
AN: @witches-unruly-heart requested David + honeymoon… enjoy!
“Please, accept this as a gift from us. It’s the least we can do. David, you are more than just our friend - you are family.”
David finished replaying the voicemail from his best friend, Andy Ronson. He looked over at you and raised his brows. “After all the shit Andy’s put me through, this is the least he can do?” He scoffed.
“Babe, I know Iceland isn’t exactly where we thought we’d honeymoon, but where else could we have it be where it’s just you and I minus some staff?”
You looked at David, your soon-to-be husband. “I’ve never been to Iceland anyway,” you continued.
You turned back and continued to chop the parsley and oregano in front of you.
David walked over to you, and wrapped his arms around you. He nuzzled your neck, his spicy cologne wafting over you. “I went a couple years back, for a retreat at Andy’s hotel. It was the most fucked up time… but that’s a story for another day.”
You hummed and nodded but continued to prep the herbs. “Besides,” David murmured, “we can take advantage of the hot spring right on the property.”
You dropped the knife to the side of the cutting board, before leaning your head back so it rested on David’s shoulder. David’s fingers trailed up along the sides of your body, before reaching around your ribcage to your tits, squeezing and kneading the fat of your flesh. The bristles of David’s beard tickled your skin and you let out a small moan as he sunk his teeth along a sensitive spot, before running his tongue over the tender, now darkened spot. David continued to play with your tits, feeling how hard your nipples were through the thin fabric of your sundress.
“I’ll never get dinner done if you keep that up,” you gently chided. You could feel David’s smirk along your skin. He let out a low chuckle before nipping at your ear.
“I’ve got my dinner right here,” David husked as he used the tips of his brogues to spread your legs. He sunk down to his knees and pushed the hemline of your dress upwards. He could see how your simple cotton panties were soaked with arousal. He took a deep inhalation of your scent before pushing your panties to the side. You cried out as he buried his tongue inside of your hot, needy cunt.
-
The wedding was later that summer, but business kept David busy soon after. You didn’t have to worry about work due to David’s abundant wealth.
When a small break in David’s calendar opened up along the Fourth of July weekend, it was perfect timing to go away. While certainly not the weather you were accustomed to in July, temperatures rose, leaving the days at a comfortable (on the cooler side) 52 degrees.
Andy’s hotel in Reykjavik was closed off to all but you and David and hotel staff. Anything you wanted or needed was just a push of a button or call away. The majority of the days and nights were spent fucking every which way. Towards the end of the week, the two of you decided to emerge from the cocoon of sheets to take some time to enjoy the hot spring. The hot spring soothed you both, the heat sinking into your bones.
You wrapped your arms around David, brushing your lips against his. The kiss is soft, unhurried. You press your body against his, your nipples diamond hard as are his. He pushes you back against the wall of the spring, the water sloshing with the movement. Steam emits from the spring, creating its own foggy cocoon. His cock is hard against you and you ache to feel him again, splitting you. David’s fingertips trail over the contours and planes of your body, re-exploring familiar areas and delighting in your heady response. You angle the nape of your neck, and David pushes your hair back as he presses open kisses along your wet skin. He dipped his head to mouth your pert tits, using his hands in tandem to tease you. You take one of his hands and push it between your bodies, stopping at your cunt. You sound more needy, desperate for more and David is quick to oblige. It’s just the two of you, so no bathing suits were needed. David’s fingers tease your inner thighs and then your outer lips before pushing two fingers inside of you. You let out a gasp which turned into a groan as he curled them, his fingers finding a steady rhythm. You drag his face back to yours and you kiss him. He swallows your moans with his mouth all the while promising all the filthy things he wanted to do with you.
You grasped his biceps tightly, your nails leaving crescent shaped marks along his skin. Your hips moved on their own accord, riding his fingers. You whined his name, further spurring the pace in which David fucked you with his fingers.
“That’s it pretty girl,” David husked. “Come for me.”
You bit David’s shoulder as you came hard, your cunt clenching and quivering around his long fingers. You hung onto his frame as you came down back to reality.
“Let’s take this inside,” David murmured as he kissed you once more.
—
You gripped the duvet as David took you from behind, his cock driving in and out of you at a brutally hard and fast pace. His fingers gripped your hips tightly, fingers digging into your flesh. You were certain you’d find marks on your hips after. Your ass was in the air, your torso bent all the way down. Your arousal, mixed with lube, dripped down your thighs as David took you balls deep.
“Ay, mi muñeca, mi tesoro, you’re so fucking tight. Taking me so well,” David grunted.
“Please! Give it to me!”
David leaned forward and grabbed you around your waist, pulling you flush against him. He stilled, leaving him deep in you, the connection never breaking. You whimpered and tried to move to get him to continue but he held you still.
“Stay right there muñeca. Just feel me,” David growled. His hand pawed at your tits, pulling and squeezing. “Tell me you love my big cock.”
You trembled, the feel of his cock splitting you was almost too much - where pleasure hovered around the line of pain. “You know I love your big cock, David.” Your words were punctuated by pants.
His hand reached down your body to your clit. He rubbed in slow circles before laying a sharp slap on your clit. He repeated the actions, almost in a pattern - rub, rub, slap, rub, rub, slap.
“Tell me your mine, your body is for me alone.”
Tears pricked your eyes as you felt another stinging slap. “You have me David, you know you do.”
“Yeah?” David asked as he resumed with slow, short thrusts. “Your pretty pussy is mine?”
“Yes,” you whimpered. “Yours.”
He pushed you back down on your hands and knees, never once stopping his pace. You let out a gasp as you felt his fingers by your ass.
“And what about this pretty little hole here? You want my cock in your little asshole?”
You nodded, the material of the duvet rubbing against your cheek. “Please, need to feel you.” Your voice was slurred, drunk on pleasure - drunk on his cock.
David reached over and grabbed the bottle of lube. He poured an obscene amount of liquid between your ass cheeks, before sliding his thumb inside.
“Good girl,” he murmured. “Such a good girl.”
He’s possessive of you, obsessive almost. But he is always looking out for your pleasure just as much as his. Your adventurous spirit in bed makes him love you all the more.
He slid his thumb out after a bit, and then used some of the lube to coat himself. He took his cock into his hand and just above where he would position to slide into you, he began to push through your cheeks slowly.
“You tease,” you gasped, pushing back.
He pushed slowly, watching as the head of his cock slipped out on the other side of your ass cheeks, pushing through to your crack. He repeated his actions, his hands squeezing your cheeks tightly as he thrusted, pushing his cock through your flesh.
You whined and begged some more. David chuckled darkly.
“Okay, okay mi muñeca. I won’t make you wait anymore,” he tutted quietly.
His cock is well lubed so he pushes into your tight hole easily, until his hips are flushed against your ass. His eyes rolled back - his cock is being squeezed by your ass, deliciously tighter than your already tight pussy.
David made sure that you were okay - and you murmured that you are. The thrusting is slow, punctuated and when he’s certain you’re ready for more, he doesn’t hold back.
He held your hips and fucked up into your ass, watching how your ass rippled and clapped against him with every thrust. He smacked your ass, causing you to squeal with delight. David looks at the scene below him - your cheeks are red and hot and you look absolutely fucked out, hair a mess, your jaw slack, eyes shut. It’s then he noticed what you were doing.
“That’s it - play with that pretty pussy while I fuck you like this,” he all but growled. “Come for me - make a mess, princesa.”
“God your ass is so tight,” David continued. “Gonna milk all that cum out of me. Fucking squeezing me.”
His words sent you over the edge. You gasped, body tightening, little fireworks going off behind your closed eyes. He closed his eyes as he pushed deep, his cock throbbing as he filled your ass with spurts of hot, white creamy cum, panting against your back, before dropping a few kisses along your damp skin.
He thrusted shallowly, riding out his orgasm as he pressed more kisses to your skin before moving back and withdrawing. You felt boneless and you didn’t dare move. He spread your cheeks once more and his eyes watched as you pushed some of his spent out, dripping.
David flopped onto his back, his arms wrapping behind his head. You mustered strength to face him and as he gave you a satisfied smile, you gave him one in return.
Finally you settled over him, playing with his chest hair. You let out a small yawn. “Now can you agree that Iceland wasn’t such a bad idea?”
David hummed. “You know, Andy and Lee are probably keeping tabs on us through all their alternative intelligence system.”
You shrugged. “Probably. Hoped they enjoyed the show.”
FIN.
Tags: @beccabarba @witches-unruly-heart @adarafaelbarba @dreamlover31 @madpanda75 @mrsrafaelbarba @storiesofsvu @plaidbooks @detective-giggles - not sure who wants to be tagged for this character, so just msg me if you do (or don’t)!
#david alvarez#David Alvarez x reader#David Alvarez and reader#David Alvarez smut#a murder at the end of the world fanfic#amateow fanfic#AMATEOTW imagine
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Nine people i’d like to get to know better ^.^
omg thank you sm for tagging me @artknifeandglue so happy to find another active kingsman blog in 2023 💖💖💖
Last Song: “BATTLE OF THE LARYNX” by Melanie Martinez
Favorite Color: It’s a tie between pink and black >.<
Last TV Show: “New Girl” which is currently on the television 🤣
Sweet/Spicy/Savory: All three. don’t make me pick i beg. i am a foodie and a black hole gimme all of them
Relationship Status: Single and newly celibate by choice, avoiding relationships and everything associated w them like the plague rn
Last Google: “dead dove do not eat” i searched that to find the arrested development clip it came from to explain to a coworker why people use that label for fanfiction 🤣🤣🤣
Current Obsession(s): the “Now You See Me” movies and paranormal investigation 👀
not tagging a full nine individuals but some people i see in my notifs i’d love to know more about ^.^ no pressure tho! @witches-unruly-heart @thyneighbors-wife @narcassistic-bitch @ughwaitwhat @kimnowls
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→ Chapter Three: Harboring a Fugitive
Pairing: Jimin x Reader
Other tags: Werewolf!Jimin, Witch!Reader, Shifter!Reader, Shifter!Jimin, A/B/O Dynamics, Alpha!Jimin
Genre: Supernatural!AU, Werewolf!AU, Angst, Mutual Pining, Fluff, Smut,
Word Count: 14.2k+
Synopsis: Within the four realms of Lustra lay the Bangtan forest home to the Foxglove pack of the south and known as the “land of magic.” It is also home to the Bridd, a powerful witch from a cursed bloodline who is one of the sacred guardians of the forest. Y/N is the newest Bridd, a young girl who was given her position too early. Now a woman, Y/N is revered amongst the wolves as the most powerful witch they have ever known, but hiding under the surface is a woman who has to battle between her duty and her heart.
Warnings: Long haired Jimin, Strong language, blood, main character injured, main character beaten (not explicit), fighting, argument, near death experience, angst, fluff, backstory time, flashbacks, I’m putting PTSD on all of these because poor reader is suffering, I love Taehyung so much, I forgot how much I missed his playful attitude, brooding Jimin as always, crying, hurt/comfort, I hate Ahn, let me know if I missed anything
A/N: This rewriting has been more fun than I thought it would be. I think the next chapter will have the most changes thus far, but I am still trying to keep everything as close as possible. Thanks for reading!
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I was awoken by rapid knocking at the front door. Cracking my eyes open, they burned in protest as I surveyed my surroundings. I had been changed and the blood was washed off of me, but I could not hear Yoongi anywhere in the house. Jimin must have left as well, but I could not remember when Yoongi arrived here. I was already too far gone to sleep. The knocking continued and I forced myself out of bed.
My body screamed in protest, and I limped to the living room. I heard Shiloh’s soft breathing inside of her nest and I frowned. She must have been exhausted from last night if the knocking did not wake her. Finally making it to the door, I opened it to one of the most pitiful sights I had seen in a long time.
My heart ached at the sight of Taehyung Kim. He looked worse for wear, his unruly hair tangled into matts that would take hours to brush out, and not a single piece of exposed skin was left tanned and untouched. He was purple and blue everywhere and I forced myself to stand up tall. I was so tired, but it would seem we both were. Ushering the boy inside, my heart broke when he started to sob.
I knew Ahn would do something to the sweet boy that wedged his way into my heart the second he stepped foot into my cottage. My rage simmered just below the surface, but I kept my mouth shut. Taehyung was in pain, both physical and emotional, and I would have to focus on his needs right now. In between his anguish he told me about what had happened.
After we left, Ahn pulled Taehyung into an isolated room at the palace where the beating began. Apparently, the old man believed he could beat the man into the boy, and I had to stop myself from screaming. Soon, three others from the council joined in on the fight. Taehyung said that there had been others who objected to what was happening, but none of them were brave enough to stand up against it either. Sol was taken away from him and he could hear her screaming the entire time.
“I’ve got your face,” I mumbled, reaching back into another jar of salve. I had used two on his face and neck alone. “Take off your clothes. I need to make sure nothing is infected.”
Taehyung nodded, still crying. I did not mind. I felt pity for the alpha. I was not surprised to find his body in just as bad of shape as the rest of him. I took great care not to stare for too long. I was not uncomfortable with his nakedness, but I was still aware that he was a man. Grip harsh, I started with his stomach. I let out a large, frustrated breath through my nose.
“I can’t believe this,” I grunted. “Why would you allow them to do this to you?”
Taehyung hissed in pain as I pressed too hard on a tender spot. I mumbled an apology.
“I did not want to fight,” He replied. “I do not want to rule with violence. I don’t like fighting or shouting. It’s… uncivilized.”
I laughed humorlessly. “So, they get to do as they please with you then? You’d let them kill you?”
He did not know what to say.
“If you ever want to be taken seriously-” I opened up another jar of salve and began rubbing it into his chest, “-this will never happen again. You know your definition of civility does not line up with the older generation in the village.”
Taehyung bit his lip and furrowed his eyebrows. He seemed upset by what I had said. He was such a naive boy, and I felt my eyes watering with anger. If Ahn were here right now, I would kill him myself. How dare he allow anybody to do this to a child let alone orchestrating an entire attack? I would be sure he knows just how unhappy I am with him if I had my way.
While I agreed with him, I knew that the others would have a difficult time swallowing that pill. Taehyung needs to fight if he wants to be seen as an equal. It is the only way to garner respect unless he wants to be compared to the others for the rest of his life. Chief Ahn would never allow that. Again, my anger spiked. Kim Taehyung was twice the man that miserable waste of oxygen could ever be. I knew Sol would cherish his mind and all at once I had an epiphany. No one else was more suited to rule Foxglove than the diplomatic, sensitive, and kind Kim boy.
“I understand you, truly,” I winced when he flinched away from my hands. “I’m sorry. What I mean is that you cannot allow them to push you around like trash.
“Their ideas of what makes a man are archaic at best and I think your village knows this, but fear is a powerful thing. Sometimes we will take the evil we know over the potential of change being worse. Ahn knows this and exploits it in order to parade around with his chest puffed like the loser he is.”
He looked at me strangely then, but I could not decipher what the expression meant. While his face was filled with life and never sat still, the alpha had a set of impenetrable eyes. Eyes that followed my every movement but gave nothing away. Taehyung seemed to consider his words carefully.
“I wanted to fight,” He whispered as though he was ashamed of himself. “I wanted to kill them all, but then they would win, right? I would be the man they wanted me to be, but the rest of the village would fear and resent me for it. The way they fear Ahn.”
His introspection was a surprise but not abnormally so. I had never heard him talk intellectually before, but it suited him nicely. His voice was deep but smooth like molasses that hummed a gentle tune with every word. He always sounded like he was singing, and it was such a juxtaposition from his boyish charm it was easy to forget he had turned 18 less than a month ago.
“Isn’t running away also letting them win?” I asked.
Taehyung sighed, “I had no choice. Ahn was attempting to rile up enough people in order to get someone, anyone, to challenge me for Sol. As far as I know no one was taking the bait, and it gave me enough time to sneak out. Jong-gyu helped get me out of the village while Eun-jin told our mother I was leaving.”
Somehow Taehyung always found a way to sneak his little family into every conversation, and his little siblings were the stars of his life. Jong-gyu was only eleven while Eun-jin had turned six in February. They were mischievous children and always got into trouble, but Taehyung loved them more than anything. Picturing the three of them making an escape plan so the oldest could get help shattered me to pieces.
I wiped my hands on my nightgown and stood. Taehyung was covered from head to toe in the salve, and already the marks were going away. It would take more than that to heal his bruised ribs. So, I went to the kitchen and looked around for a healing potion. I did not feel like making one at this hour and we both needed to get some rest.
“Why did you come here?” I asked, gently.
Taehyung sighed. “Because I knew you would help me.”
Again, my pity returned. While my blood boiled, my heart hurt for the alpha as well. I could imagine him hurt and abandoned, nowhere to turn to, and not being able to trust the local doctor. I found an old potion in the back of a cupboard. After quickly smelling it, I was sure it was still good to take.
“You can stay here as long as you need to,” I offered, handing him the potion. “Sol is my friend and I’m making it my job to keep you safe.”
Taehyung seemed at ease with this. Downing the potion, he curled up on the couch and closed his eyes. “Thank you, Bridd,”
I did not reply. Instead, I used my magic to bring him a few blankets and struck up the fireplace. He was weak and may not be able to regulate his body temperature as easily. It got cold in the living room at night. Seemingly satisfied with his place on my small, uncomfortable couch, Taehyung fell asleep within seconds.
I had never seen anything like it in all my life. Stifling my laughs, I began blowing out the candles around my house, and put away all the used tubs of salve. I would need to make more soon. Exhausted and still recovering from the ceremony, I drug myself back to bed. Shiloh was waiting for me when I arrived.
“How many times do I have to tell you to take your bedrest seriously?” The barn owl nagged.
I groaned and rolled into my bed. It was warm and soft. Shiloh flapped to her nest, a few feathers falling on my sheets that I ignored. I had gotten used to the constant cleaning many years ago.
“It was Taehyung,” I argued.
“I don’t care if it was Fenrir at the door, you better stay your-”
“Shiloh,” I warned, “Swîgian âstillian.”
The bird grumbled to herself, but I was too far gone to pay attention.
Someone was knocking on my front door. Groggy and still stiff, I groaned and rolled on my side. I could hear voices outside, none of them sounding happy, but I heard someone calling for Taehyung and my temper flared. Angry and sore, I used magic to lift myself out of bed and threw on my robe. I saw Taehyung curled up in a ball in front of the sofa. He did not notice me until I was standing in front of the door.
Shiloh was shouting at me to get back in bed, to let the wolves handle their own business, but I ignored her. When they decide to take their politics to my doorstep, I have every right to give them a piece of my mind. Squaring my shoulders, I took a deep breath before forcing my arms forward.
My front door flew off its hinges and into whoever was standing behind it. Namjoon was unfazed by this and slapped the thick wood out of his way. I could see the shock in his eyes, but I was not finished with my assault. I began to sing, a whirlwind of objects floating around the room. Namjoon backed away but this only pissed me off more. Shiloh shouted as a large, hot, blue flame sprouted from the palm of my hand and flew at the wolf.
“Hwæt−hwugu ðrîstian êow?” I shouted, everything dropped once my singing stopped. “Who the hell do you think you are?”
Hoseok and Jimin stood on either side of their brother. I knew I would regret attacking them eventually, possibly the moment they left, but I would not let myself falter. No one was going to come here and intimidate me. The rational side of my brain told me to stop, breathe, and listen to what they had to say, but the other (louder) voice wanted to break them into pieces. Taehyung was broken and bleeding last night and yet none of these people helped them.
“Bridd-” Hoseok pled.
Ignoring him, I kept my gaze perfectly trained on Namjoon. He stared at the large, ashen spot at his feet as I stared at him. My face burned with anger, and I felt another surge of magic rush through my body. A dull ache began to form in my back, and I knew I was bleeding again. I had used too much magic, and my body was having a hard time healing.
“Sê ðafian êower m¯ægð teohhian êower weorðfulnes?” I roared, eyes burning. “Sol chose him. The Gods chose him! Do you all somehow believe you to be superior to them now? Are you all that blinded by your precious Chief's biases that you would allow for this to happen?”
Namjoon swallowed thickly before finally looking at me, “Of course not. I-”
“You listen to me,” I sneered. “If you ever get the gull to come bang on my door again, I swear to you, I will not show you the same mercy.”
Namjoon stuttered over his words, unable to form a proper sentence. I could feel myself growing tired again and the red in my vision was dissipating. Shiloh was still shouting at me to come inside, to let Taehyung handle this himself, but I could not let him stand here alone. No one else was here to help them if the three men decided to attack and I would never forgive myself for leaving the boy defenseless. I stood tall but visibly more relaxed.
“We’re here to speak with Taehyung,” Hoseok pleaded. “I swear we have no intentions to fight with you or him. Namjoon needs to relay a message.”
I opened my mouth to speak, but a voice from behind me beat me to it.
“I’m fine, Bridd,” Taehyung said. The alpha looked at the others but stayed safely behind me. “What’s the word?”
“Don’t be angry with me, cousin,” Namjoon started, stepping towards us.
Instinctively, I got into a defensive position. Namjoon stopped walking and held his hands up in surrender while Hoseok flanked him. Jimin was still standing perfectly still, his eyes on me, and I wondered if he was thinking of a way to get at me if need be. If I was thinking rationally then I would understand why, but in my elevated state it only served to hurt my feelings.
“I have challenged you,” Namjoon continued and all thoughts of Jimin left my mind.
“Quare?” Taehyung’s tone was incredulous, and I could hear the betrayal that coated his tongue. “What have I ever done to you?”
Namjoon seemed to soften but I felt my muscles clench as I readied myself to defend the boy in response. No one was going to hurt him. Sol was my good friend and I refused to let harm come to her mate. I would sooner drop dead before I allowed someone like Ahn to destroy the lives of a group of people because of his complexes. I knew Namjoon well enough to know that he would try to play both sides if it meant keeping the peace within the village. I did not respect that- not at all.
“So no one else would,” Namjoon willed Taehyung to believe him. “We are trying to buy time to come up with a plan, Taehyung. I swear, I have no intention of fighting with you.”
“Putasne me stultum esse?” Taehyung hissed and I could feel his body heating up. “Sol a me auferre conaris!”
Namjoon blanched. I was proud of the young wolf, and I had to admit that I agreed with him. Namjoon was so proud of the fact that Sol would be his mate that I had a difficult time believing the challenge was only for Taehyung’s benefit. Looking at the other two wolves it was clear to me that they also did not believe the eldest man.
“I do not want to hurt you, Taehyung,” Namjoon plead but I could see his growing agitation. He did not like the way he was being spoken to. “I mean what I say even if you are too dense to understand that.”
Taehyung growled, and I had to steady my racing heart. I would have to protect him inside. Namjoon would have the advantage of leaving, and I was vulnerable to the sun’s rays if he decided to extort that. Still, I positioned my hands defensively. Taehyung was done talking and both Hoseok and Namjoon waited for his next move.
Suddenly, Shiloh flew out of the house and screeched loudly. Everything happened quickly. First, Shiloh was barreling towards Namjoon and then a wolf was standing in his place. I knew it was an accident, and Taehyung was only trying to protect me, however, his massive frame surged me forward. I was in the sun before I could save myself, and soon my face slammed into my front steps and the sun beamed on my back. My ankle burned as the metal cut through.
My skin burned immediately, and I could not help the tortured screams that flew out of my mouth. Unfocused eyes trained on Shiloh and saw her turn towards me before a large, russet wolf shoved her out of the way with his nose. I felt many hands on me, and I was dragged back inside. My body trembled as I screamed. Every inch of my skin was on fire, and I closed my eyes only to see white. It felt like someone was tearing me apart. All around me I heard screaming and shouting.
“Quid irrumabo facimus?” Hoseok shouted.
“Nescio,” It sounded like Taehyung was crying.
My eyes rolled to the back of my head, and I could not think straight. The pain was numbing. Opening my eyes again, I saw my ceiling and raised one of my shaking hands. Black feathers had pierced through the skin, and I cried out once more.
“Recedite ab ea!” Someone screamed but I could not make out who.
“Licuitne futura est?”
I knew something was happening a few feet away but all I could focus on was the fire in my body. I knew this would subside eventually on its own, I had not been in the sun long enough for the full transformation to take place, but I had something that could help. I just needed to gather the strength to get it. I opened my mouth to speak but could only scream.
“It burns,” I managed to grunt, convulsing.
I could feel hands on me, but I could not get my eyes to focus. Sleep would be impossible now and I knew my body was in the worst shape it had ever been. Between the ceremony, the small amount of magic I used, and the sun I would be out of service for an entire week at this rate. Possibly even more.
“Move,” I heard Shiloh’s voice through the rest of the nonsense going on around me.
Looking through my lashes, instead of an owl there was a beautiful woman before me. Her fiery hair glistened in the sun and looked like it was underwater. Her skin had a dim glow to it and shimmered brightly. She looked like diamonds, and I reached out to touch her. The spirit had tears in her eyes, the water shining brilliantly, before she caressed my hand.
“Slêpte,” She whispered, fingers grazing my arm.
Instantly, I felt the relief I had been begging for wash over me. Sighing in relief, I closed my eyes and curled closely to Shiloh’s side. I felt her fingers running through my hair and the exhaustion hit me all at once. I could hear growls and snarls, but the frantic talking was much louder. Someone was crying but I was too tired to figure out who it was.
“I’m going to put you to bed,” She whispered. “Where you belong.”
When I woke, I could smell food cooking. I was in my bed, my memory faded and hard to recall, but I knew Shiloh had been in her spirit form. It was what she wished to look like in her next life, and I secretly thought she would be extremely beautiful. Rubbing my eyes, I could not remember the alphas leaving and knew I needed to get up. My body screamed in protest as I sat up, but I pushed forward. No one was going to harm the boy- not while I still had air in my lungs, and I could only hope that he was alive and well in my living room.
Upon entering the kitchen, I had to grasp my door frame for support. The stove was lit, I could smell the applewood, and one of my large pots was on top of it. The rest of the room was clean. Far cleaner than I ever left it. Someone had mopped and swept by hand. I could smell the lemons they used on the wood mingling with the strong scent of onions.
“You should be in bed.”
I jumped up. Whipping my head around, Jimin was sitting in my recliner across the room. Taehyung was staring at me from in front of the fireplace. Neither Hoseok nor Namjoon were there. I could not feel or smell my familiar’s presence either, and I had a pang of fear shoot through me.
“Where’s Shiloh?” I demanded, stumbling forward and grabbing on my island.
Taehyung stood up and came toward me quickly.
“Please, don’t push yourself, Bridd,” He said softly.
The alpha led me to the small loveseat that was tucked away and helped me to sit down. Jimin stood and covered me with one of my spare blankets before taking the seat next to me. He must have gone digging around while I was asleep. Sparing a glance at my hands, all of the feathers were replaced by nasty scars that were already lighter than the surrounding skin, like they had been there for years, and I felt sad looking at them. I could only imagine the state the rest of my body was in. It seemed like Jimin sensed my mood and placed his hand over mine.
“She stepped out for a while,” His voice hoarse like he had been screaming.
I had been angry with him; I remember vividly I thought of him and Namjoon as one entity here to hurt Taehyung but being in front of him now it had all but vanished. There was no way Park Jimin would ever be fine with what had happened. Nor would Hoseok or Namjoon. Even thinking of him I found myself hurting for him. I could only imagine how he had felt after everything had happened. I did not think anyone could have prepared for that amount of shock. However, gazing at Taehyung, most of my sympathy stopped there. Namjoon was still acting like some know-it-all, high who was high and mighty for what he had done. If Taehyung did not believe his intentions were good, then neither would I.
“Is everyone alright?” I asked.
Jimin hummed, “Everyone but you. Namjoon and I got into a fight before he left but he’ll be fine.”
I scowled at Jimin. “I don’t like the idea of you fighting.”
He grinned, “Don’t worry, amica. I won.”
“Doesn’t change my feelings.” I grumbled and looked at Taehyung.
He seemed confused. While most of his face was perfectly schooled, his eyes told a different story. As they bounced back and forth between Jimin and I, I could see confusion turn into something… other. Almost, acceptance. Strange, I thought. I did not think about it too much. My affection for Jimin was likely apparent, and stronger, than that of the other alphas. The boy was probably trying to get used to it. Then he winked at me, and I looked away,
Was it possible that he had caught onto my feelings? Had I sized him up too quickly? I knew he was mischievous and carefree, but I also knew he was very aware of others. When he had spoken so passionately about being what a good ruler was, I had gotten that impression as well as his own naivety. However, my troubles were quickly dismissed as I looked into Jimin’s eyes. It was impossible to stress when he was around.
“If it is alright with you then I would like to stay here until Taehyung decides what to do,” My eyebrows shot up.
“What for?” I replied.
“I’m sorry for pushing you,” Taehyung butted in. “I didn’t realize you were standing so close, and I was overwhelmed.”
I shook my head and assured him an apology was unnecessary, “I’m serious, Taehyung, it wasn’t your fault.”
“Yeah,” He scoffed, “You’re covered in scars because of my actions, and now my cousin is angry with all of us because of the fight. Hoseok said it was best if we stayed away from the village for a while. We can’t go back home.”
This was not surprising, at least, not to me. I did not plan on Taehyung leaving my cottage for a while, but Jimin’s own exile was either completely self-inflicted, or a way for Hoseok to calm Namjoon down before he made any other rash decisions. Like challenging Taehyung. Even if he claimed it was only to stop others from doing so, I could understand why his little cousin would be offended by his complete lack of faith in him. A challenge did not sound like a great way to get others on Taehyung’s side and would only make the boy’s stress raise.
“I found the letter that your friend sent you in your coat pocket,” Jimin suddenly said.
Confused, I frowned. I knew he was trying to change the subject, but I had no clue what he was talking about. Racking my brain, I found myself at a loss before the lightbulb went off.
“Wendy!” I exclaimed.
Going to stand, Jimin gently grabbed my arm. He looked bashful and unsure of himself. I was just like the last time he had been here, only it felt different. He almost looked… afraid to tell me what he had read. My breath quickening, I pulled my arm out of his grasp.
“What did it say?” I asked, wearily.
When I got no response, I lifted myself up and ignored the two men. I hobbled to my coat rack. However, strong arms wrapped around me before I made it a foot away from the sofa.
“Taehyung,” I threatened. “Put me down. Now.”
“Sit. You’re hurt.” He pleaded and walked me back over to the living space.
Frustrated and anxious, I turned my head and bit the side of his arm. The wolf yelped before letting go of my waist. I stumbled, wobbled over, before landing on my ass.
“This is ridiculous,” I complained, slowly lifting myself up. I ignored Taehyung’s outstretched hands. “You come to my home, go through my things, and then not allow me to read my own letter? She’s my friend! If it’s important I ought to know.”
Jimin sighed, frustrated. I refused to back down and continued to stand despite the slight sway I was fighting. Taehyung had given me some space, which I appreciated, but was close enough to catch me if I fell down again. The older alpha and I had a stare off.
Finally, after a few minutes of silence, Jimin spoke, “If you had more patience, I could have given it to you. It’s in my pocket.”
“If you had just said that instead of looking at me like an idiot-” I countered, limping back to the sofa, “-then I couldn’t have gotten up.”
The alpha glared at me but said nothing more. Snatching the paper from his hands, I made myself comfortable in my spot. Taehyung came closer, a weary look on his face. An apology was in order, but I fought with my own pride to give it. He picked me up without consent and so I bit him. End of discussion. Still, the need to tell him I was sorry was strong.
B,
I’m happy to hear you are feeling better. However, I’m sure by the time this reaches you the Luna’s ceremony would have taken place and you’ll be back in bed again. I’ve always marveled at how powerful you are and yet so fragile. My mother thinks it was the way the Gods meant for it to be. You’d be far too much if you had all of your abilities and the same willpower as any other witch. In other words, good luck and I hope you have a fast recovery.
My sister has decided to marry a man by the name of Bastian. I am very happy for her, and I know Nixie will make a good wife- even if their children will be raised as humans rather than witches. Apparently, Bastian’s family is against magic and Nixie is unbothered by it. She was always rather bad at it, so I can guess why she has no issue giving it up. The entire time I have been here I’ve been barred from playing around. Nixie is very strict when she wants to be. They are very in love, and I am happy for her.
This trip, however, had made me think of my own life more than I thought it would. Y/N, would you hate me if I told you I was considering staying here? My time in Northorn has opened my world to many possibilities. Then I think of you, Yoongi, and Seokjin and the thought repulses me. Oh, I love him. I love Seokjin. I want him to be with me and yet… my eyes still wander. Is that wrong? I know you understand me more than anyone else. Have you ever thought about telling him how you feel or is it too scary? Because I’m scared, Bridd. I’ve hurt him too much.
I should stay here, right? Spare both him and Yoongi the heart ache. God knows I’ve put too much of a strain on their relationship already. From what I hear, they’re already back to being friends since I’ve kept away. Yes, I think I will stay here.
Please help me. Do something for me. I’m confused and unsure of myself. Nixie says I’m overthinking everything, but I know you will be more honest. Sending you all of my heart- at least what is left of it.
Your dearest friend,
Wendy
Rereading the letter over again, I felt my heart sink. Shiloh must have decided to go and see her after finding out. I mentally thanked her and immediately went to fetch a pen and paper. Neither wolf tried to stop me.
It made sense now why Jimin would hesitate to talk with me about the letter. He had never, as far as I know, met Wendy. It must have been confusing to read through. I remembered her line about me understanding her and my stomach sank. That must have been a strange thing to read about, too. I cursed under my breath before I began to write.
Wendy, darling,
I am fine. There is a lot happening in Bangtan at the moment, most of which I hardly understand, and it has taken its toll on me. Between the ceremony and now I haven’t one moment of peace. I do hope you can help me relax once you return. I know you will.
Forget about those two fools and remember why you have stayed here all this time: your mother, the sisterhood, your coven, and the forest. Who else can tame a magindara like you? No one. Who can purify the sea and sing with the shore like you? No one. Do not let petty, childish things stop you from enjoying your life. You will always have me, and I will forever be there. I’m happy for Nixie! Her engagement is splendid news and I wish I could be there with her.
However, life has chosen a different path for me just as it has chosen one for you. I am frightened, Wendy. Every day I am scared of what it will bring, but I do not let that stop me from enjoying the sunshine. I love the flowers, the trees, and the winds that ripple through them. Aldara used to tell me, “Fear reminds us that we’re alive, and without it many would surely be dead.” So, don’t kill yourself off just yet, darling. Keep swimming and come home. Talk to Seokjin and he will understand. Yoongi has no ill will toward either one of you. Let go of your fantasies and stay rooted in the reality of your heart.
You have made many mistakes in this life, but who hasn’t? I do think that we can salvage our friendships if nothing else, and if you truly want to be with Jin, then I would say try to win him over. He has spent many years running behind you while your sights were set on someone who did not see you very clearly. I want our circle back together again, but I want all of you happy within that circle. So go for it. Even if I am afraid, you do not have to be. See you soon.
Missing you greatly,
B
My body was beginning to loosen, and the pain was becoming bearable. Satisfied with my response, I waved it in the air to make it dry faster as I rummaged through my drawers for an envelope. I could only hope I could muster the strength to send it off. If Shiloh were here, she would have gone off herself or asked one of the boys, but I was on my own now. Alone and in desperate need to get this damn letter to Wendy. Shuffling to my ceremonial bag laying by the front door, I sifted through it until I found my meteor powder.
I knew I was taking a risk with this sort of thing, but I had to be willing to risk it if it meant I could change Wendy’s mind. I was already hours behind. Without a second more to lose, I gathered up a piece of parchment and a pen to begin drawing. Remembering Wendy’s face was simple enough, years of drawing and perfecting using the powder making it almost easy to do, but I still felt uneasy. My heart would not rest until I received word back or the sea witch showed up at my door.
Praying that I got every soft feature right, I contemplated adding color but quickly dismissed the idea. It would not really make any difference and I was not sure if her hair was dark or light anymore. Wendy often went through fazes with that sort of thing. Laying the paper on the floor, I said her name for good measure, and threw the powder on top of it. Less than a second later, the paper was gone, and I sighed.
“Hope she got it,” I mumbled to myself.
It was Taehyung who broke my trance.
“That was so cool!” He exclaimed.
I chuckled, “Not as cool as my own magic, but it’ll have to do. I can hardly feel anything in my body.”
Walking back to the couch, I curled up beside Jimin. He looked worried again and I realized I had messed up. Admitting that I was weak and tired would only make him drag me back to bed. Readily myself for another spat, I squared my shoulders and looked at him.
“She seemed upset,” He said instead. “I had not realized your friends were involved in that way.”
I hid my surprise well. It did make sense for Jimin to worry about others, I had just never imagined he would take my friend’s hardships so seriously. Looking away, I nodded.
“It’s been a thing since we were children. Don’t worry too much, she will come back, and they will be together. It’s their never-ending cycle.”
“Why aren’t they now?” It was Taehyung who asked.
“Because,” I sighed, “they don’t truly know what they want.”
Jimin fixed me a bowl of the cabbage stew he had made for us. It was rather plain but filling and lulled me into an unsettled sleep on the small couch. I could vaguely remember waking up shouting, but for the life of me I could not recall the dream that had frightened me so. It was Jimin who brought me to my bed after that and I did not wake up again. Not even when I shifted after sunset.
Taehyung was a nice company to have around. He took good care of his things, cleaned up after himself, and was useful. I had stopped sending supplies to Foxglove, something that neither Taehyung or Jimin agreed with, but it did not change my mind. They did not deserve my help if this is what they were going to do with it. No one had come to collect anything either, so I assumed they were boycotting my services indefinitely, or no one felt comfortable enough to come here with the wolves present.
Wendy had written to me the following morning confirming she was coming back. She had even written to Jin. While I did not know what she had said I could take a few guesses. It was only a matter of time before Seokjin told me all about it. He was the worst at keeping secrets.
Taking a deep breath, I opened my eyes and stared at my altar. My magic had come back a few days ago and I had been allowing it to rest. Today was the first time I had performed a ritual spell in days. Looking over my shoulder, I smiled gently at Jimin napping on my sofa.
While we had not spoken much since that night, he was doing his best to help Taehyung make a plan to win over the town. While I thought it was foolish to think he could do such a thing without a fight, I believed in them enough to support it. Jimin was a beloved figure of the community and having him on Taehyung’s side greatly increased his odds. I knew the pack was feeling both of their absences and I hoped Namjoon would show his face here again. We had much to discuss and I wanted to apologize for my loud outburst. No matter what anyone else had to say I placed much of that terrible encounter on my own shoulders.
“What’s a cah-dee-jo?” Taehyung asked, obnoxiously loud.
“A cadejo-” I corrected, rolling my eyes, “-are spirits that help worthy travelers find their way.”
Taehyung raised an eyebrow. “And if they’re not worthy?”
“They’ll eat them,” I replied easily.
The alpha had been interested in my books after finding something I had written about the magindara when I was a kid. He was going through them so quickly, I was having to go to the cellar to get new material for him. As naive as he was, Taehyung Kim was a bright young man with a vivid imagination. He always asked questions, never settled for one answer, and listened carefully.
“Why?” He asked.
“Why not?”
He said nothing after that and went back to reading. I had started growing fonder of the man and hoped he was able to go back home. When he spoke of his siblings his eyes lit up and it broke my heart. His parents must be worried sick.
Having spent most of my morning sitting, I decided to make lunch. I was expecting Shiloh to be back later today. Wendy said my familiar had gotten to her inn just before she sent off her letter, so I knew the owl was safe. Thinking about her I grew emotional. Exposing her spirit form was extremely dangerous, a risk I would never have asked her to take, and she had done it regardless.
Going to my kitchen window, I whistled loudly and began pulling out a pot and pan. Tomato soup sounded lovely and I could always make a quick loaf of bread. A few minutes later, Delinah was at my window. Looking up from the onion I was dicing, I grinning at the deer.
“Morning, Dee,” I greeted.
She bowed her head. “Glad to see you moving around. You gave us all a fright.”
I hummed, scooping the onions and throwing them into the pot along with three whole heads of garlic, some fresh herbs, and oil. In the corner of my eye I saw Jimin beginning to stir on my sewing chair.
“I’m good as new,” I joked, using a spell to light my stove. “Would you mind fetching some tomatoes from Seokjin’s garden? I’d ask Shiloh but she’s out of the forest for the day.”
“Where’d she head off to?” Delinah asked, pulling the cloth tote I kept on the windowsill into her mouth.
“Northorn,” I replied.
“Northorn? What’s so important in that miserable place?”
I laughed, placing my knife down to help my friend get the tote around her neck. Delinah nuzzled my hands. Giving her a quick pat on the head, I promised her carrots when she got back.
“And to answer your question,” I walked back to the counter. “Wendy is attempting to run away so she’s bringing her back.”
She laughed, “Oh, that Wendy Byrd. You never know what you’re going to get with that one.”
“But we love her.”
Jimin was up and walking around right after Delinah left. Taehyung was still head-first in my magical beasts book. I took over my try of onions and garlic and let them begin roasting over the open flame of the stove. The tomatoes would not take long to char. I could hear the two men talking quietly but decided to play them no mind. It was hard to have privacy in this house as it was.
Delinah was back quickly and I sent her off with a bundle of carrots. After roasting the tomatoes, I used my pestle and mortar to blend everything together. Working in small batches, I took my time to be sure everything was smooth before throwing it into the pot I had taken out.
“Bridd,” Taehyung called out. “Can I get your opinion on something?”
I nodded, “Ask away.”
“I want to write a letter to Namjoon but I’m not sure how he’d take that.”
I paused for a moment to think. While it might be a wise idea to test the waters with a note of some kind, I was also not foolish enough to think he would be able to deliver something to the village at this time. People were looking for him and to show his face might lead to more speculation. However, he had to do something before the elders made a decision as to what to do with him.
Namjoon had officially challenged him and only revoking that, which would terminate the fight, would be his best option. I had full faith in Taehyung’s ability to defend himself if he truly wanted, but his personality would make it hard for him to commit to a brawl. Namjoon would win just from his determination alone, if it came down to that, but I had a difficult time believing it would. The only way for Namjoon to win would be killing Taehyung in exchange for Sol and he would never bring himself to do that.
“I don’t think that would help much,” I admitted. “You are aware of Ahn and his tricks. I don’t believe a letter would arrive to him if you wrote one or not.”
I heard his sigh of defeat and felt saddened. I empathize with the alpha’s situation. I knew he was preparing himself to fight his older cousin, possibly kill the man, and no one was pleased by this. In my younger years, Aldara enjoyed teaching me defensive magic but I could never strike her back. It was not until that night I truly saw what I could be capable of if left to my own devices. I shuddered at the thought. I would not wish that on anybody- especially Taehyung Kim. Mixing the soup, I spoke.
“I’m sorry it has to be this way.”
“Me too,” He replied.
The three of us ate our lunch in silence. Jimin had been more quiet than usual and I knew his brain was on overdrive. He had also been away from his family, his pack, and his home for three days without an end in sight. I knew how hard the silence could be and even then I had been quieter. Still, it must be hard on him. It was a wolf’s nature to be with his family.
Taehyung did not ask anything after that. The rest of the day, he sat on the floor near the fireplace and read book after book while Jimin looked out of the windows and wrote down in a journal I had given to him when he asked. They never went outside. I managed to do a few chores, practiced some new spells, and wrote in my grimoire, but nothing else had struck an interest in me. The tension in the house was suffocating. It was not until Shiloh returned at sunset that the house stirred.
In a whirlwind, the barn owl flew through my bedroom window, her loud voice bouncing off the walls. Carelessly I threw my pen down onto my grimoire. Black ink smeared into the pages ruining all of my hard work, but I did not care. She was back and I could breathe a bit easier then. I knew Shiloh would have an answer. She always knew what to do.
“Between those wolves and you witches,” She complained, “I’ll never, ever catch a break.”
“Oh, Shiloh,” I cooed, opening my arms to her.
My familiar raced into my waiting embrace and let herself be babied. I pet her head and smoothed her feathers down gently. The owl leaned into my touches with joy. I could not remember the last time I had smiled so widely since she had gone.
“You’re so strong and mighty, little one. I missed you dearly.”
She laughed, “I’m so happy to see you up and walking around.”
“Where’s Wendy?” I asked, letting her go.
Shiloh flew into the kitchen and I followed behind her. She must be exhausted after the long journey. She pecked at the bread from lunch and made note of the wolves in the living room. Pleased that they were still here, Shiloh told me how much she liked Taehyung before giving up any other information. I chuckled at her antics.
“She’ll be back after her sister’s wedding.”
“Oh, wonderful!” I clapped my hands together in delight.
“Another pain in my ass,” She mumbled.
And I laughed, and laughed, and laughed.
It was always an adjustment when you first transform, I found. Even after all this time I was slightly disoriented after the whole ordeal. The first night Taehyung had been here, he had almost broken my bedroom door down trying to see if I was alright. If Jimin had not reassured him, I was sure he would have been traumatized by the scene. It was the fourth night now, and Taehyung slept peacefully through my screams. Shiloh had gone to bed extra early. Jimin was the only person still awake when I flew through the kitchen window.
He was still dressed in the same clothes he had been wearing for days. I hand washed everything twice but he insisted on keeping them. I had made clothes for Taehyung and was a bit upset at Jimin’s rejection. However, I never brought it up again. I simply washed them and used magic to get them dry.
Tonight, however, he had taken off the long cape he usually wore. His socks and shoes were also somewhere else and I noticed his belt was also missing. He wore his hair down, the silver strands sitting at his waist, and I saw a simple headband keeping his bangs out of his eyes. He was sitting at the kitchen island staring at whatever he had been writing. I decided to go to him.
“Hello,” He offered, a smile that did not meet his eyes thrown my way.
He looked tired, more so than usual, and worn. Taehyung snored loudly on the floor and rolled over. Jimin did not bat an eyelash and continued looking at the papers. I hopped closer and twisted my head to look at them. The alpha did not try to stop me. It was difficult to make out everything as the ink was smudged and worn, but I recognized the handwriting from anywhere.
I realized it was the paper I had used when I had visited him a few weeks ago. I felt myself growing emotional. He had kept it… something so inconsequential and yet he had kept it. Apparently, he even walked around with it. My heart grew fonder with every encounter we shared, and I found I could not breathe properly.
I’m feeling better.
Not if it’s something you like.
I love blueberries.
You did nothing wrong, Alpha. I promise.
“It brings me comfort,” Jimin whispered. “Knowing that you’re out there.”
Turning to look at him, I found him crying. The moonlight illuminated his delicate face and the tears that ran down his cheeks. For the first time since I have known Jimin, I felt sure of myself. Drawing near, I gently flapped my wings and landed in his lap. Clicking, I rubbed my face on his stomach and allowed the warmth within me to shine. He kept it.
Jimin grabbed me and held me tightly as he wept. What his sorrows were for, I was not sure, but I had to guess it was something to do with this situation. Whatever the case may be, I melted into his touch. He was always so open with me like this. I wished he would hold me tightly as a woman, too. I knew I was beginning to grow greedy but did not care anymore. He had kept that stupid piece of parchment and I was completely done attempting to care about customs or the opinions of others.
“I don’t know what to do,” He whimpered. “I understand them both, know that neither one of them are happy with the way they left things, but I can’t do anything about it.
“I don’t want to leave Taehyung, but I don’t want to watch my friends kill each other over a miscommunication.”
And as mad as I was at Namjoon, as badly as I wanted to throw him against a wall and scream in his face for playing into the game the others were creating, I could not say I wanted him dead. We were friends after all. Even after our spat the other morning I could call him that freely. I knew something had to give sooner or later.
The alpha only allowed himself two minutes to cry. After that, he apologized to me profusely before gently setting me back down on the island. Wiping his face aggressively, he excused himself before leaving the cottage entirely. I wanted to go after him but thought he might need the space and time to think. Looking down at the paper at my feet, I felt something shift inside of me.
So what if a letter is offensive? They beat Taehyung to a bloody pulp, exiled him, and made his family think he needed to be challenged in order to keep the pack in order. If a simple letter would be the thing to set them off then I would happily be the bad guy. Knowing that I was more than likely making an awful choice, that the chances of someone else getting their hands on Namjoon’s letter were high, I still had to try. I would never see Jimin cry like that again. My mind made up, I gathered up some paper and an ink jar and began to write.
“Y/N,” Auntie whispered, her fingers running through my hair.
The sun had just begun to rise, the sky was still purple, and I struggled to open my eyes. Stirring, I moaned and rubbed my face. My eyes continued drooping closed and I yawned loudly.
Aldara chuckled, “Wake up, sleepy head. I want to make breakfast together.”
Shaking my head, I flipped over the pancake. In the dining room, Taehyung, Jimin, and the witches were talking about the best fishing spots in Bangtan. Seokjin and Yoongi had decided to drop in this morning, and while I did not get a reason for the sudden visit, I assumed it had something to do with Wendy. Jin seemed surprised about the wolves and asked if we could speak privately after everyone had eaten. I heard Taehyung asking if vegan pancakes tasted good and I laughed.
I had started a vegetarian diet after Aldara died. It was nearly impossible to get meat when I was unable to leave my home. I cut out animal products completely four years ago after I got closer with the critters in the area. It felt wrong to eat someone I could have known.
“They’re not that different from ‘normal’ ones,” I answered. “I just use oat flour, bananas, and flaxseeds mixed with water. Everything else is the same.”
I could not see the face the alpha made, but I knew it was similar to disgust. Taehyung emoted the same for several emotions. Confusion, disgust, and anger were all similar enough to take a guess. Yoongi laughed and it made me smile. The two of us were the most similar in terms of lifestyle choices, but he ate fish with Seokjin from time-to-time.
“Why would you mix flax seeds and water together?” Taehyung asked, his bewilderment coating his tongue.
Grabbing a plate, I flipped the fresh pancake onto my small stack before heading over to the table. Various jars of preserves and marmalades were out along with Yoongi’s homemade syrup he had sent to me. While I had always enjoyed honey on my pancakes and toast, after cutting out animal products, I started mixing and matching to find something I liked more. Peanut butter and banana slices have not been topped by anything else. However, I had used all of my bananas making breakfast and had to settle for syrup.
“It replaces the egg,” I explained. “You mix it with the banana and let it sit for a few minutes to thicken up. It’s something a boy called Enver taught me. He lives in Moland and doesn’t get access to the market very often.”
“How do you get things from the market?” Jimin asked.
“I go very often,” Seokjin replied. “I always get things for Yoongi and Y/N when I go. Yoongi does the same as well.”
I hummed and nodded. “I have great friends.”
After breakfast, Yoongi invited the boys to go on a walk with him in the forest. Taehyung had brought up his newfound interest in the beings that lived in Bangtan, and the witch had offered to show him a jackalope borough a few minutes away. Jimin offered to go so he could keep an eye on Taehyung. I knew they could handle themselves, but I caught Jimin’s eye before he left and knew he was giving Seokjin and I space to speak. After they left, I began picking up the dishes with Jin’s help.
We worked quietly for a time. I washed while he dried. I knew whatever he wanted to say was on the tip of his tongue, his constant opening and closing of his mouth making that known, but I stayed patient. Seokjin was hesitating, which was strange for him, but I knew he was trying to collect his thoughts. Wendy threw him off kilter often and all of us were friends, so it made talking openly challenging. Yoongi had the same problem but would only come alone if he needed to vent. Enver was always his first pick since he was far removed from the forest, but he was too young to understand what Jin was feeling.
After the dishes were done, I began to wipe down the table and put away the toppings. Seokjin lingered but did not help with this. Instead, he put away the dishes. It took a few more minutes before he spoke.
“Wendy wrote to me,” He said.
I hummed. I did not want to talk about her letter to me yet. I tried to respect privacy as much as possible and kept a lot to myself. We were all too close for comfort at times and overzealous. Wendy was the worst with this, and Seokjin was unable to keep his mouth shut for forever, and so I tried to be someone reliable. Yoongi was better than I was but that was because he never gave much thought to other people. Their problems were not his and therefore did not truly matter.
“She said she wants to be with me.”
“Well,” I sighed. “How do you feel about that?”
He ran a hand through his hair. “It’s… complicated.”
Lifting myself onto the kitchen island, I nodded.
“I’m sure I can keep up.”
“For as long as I’ve known her, I’ve liked her to some capacity. She’s never really liked me in the same way, at least, not as much as I liked her.” He reasoned. And that was true.
Wendy had always looked the other way, said one thing and did another, and never truly opened her heart to him properly. Sure, she admitted that she liked him but would run after Yoongi when given the chance. At first, I thought Seokjin was reading too much into things, but when I stopped to think about it, he was right to be upset. Wendy placed Yoongi on a pedestal and often ignored how much she hurt everyone else in the process. Even the kitchen witch himself, a man who found himself an unwilling participant in their love triangle.
“I knew she meant it when she said she liked me,” He continued. “I knew that she had feelings and affections, but the second she saw him it was like we were twelve again. How can I know she’s serious this time? She’s been away, hasn’t seen anyone in months, and decides she is in love with me. What about when she sees Yoongi again? Will it still be true?”
I felt sorry for Seokjin. He’s never looked away from Wendy, much like Wendy was never able to fully look away from Yoongi. I knew his heart was genuine, but I was also aware of how sheltered he was. Bangtan was secluded and meeting others was difficult. I was not sure if his want for Wendy would be the same if he realized that the world was much broader than this forest. Still, I was not foolish enough to think that telling someone that there were more fish in the sea would be helpful.
“I don’t want to get hurt again,” He whispered.
“I know,” I replied. “I wouldn’t want that either.”
“How can I trust her words?”
I shook my head. “I… I’m not sure. I’ve always thought you two were just stubborn. I can see how much you both care, but I’m not okay with the toxicity. As much as I want the both of you to be happy, preferably together, I can’t stand the tension.
I think you should try it out- if you want to. See what happens. Maybe seeing her sister getting married changed something for her, or the time away- I don’t know. I do know that if you’re coming to me then that means she said something that sat with you. I would think about that and your own feelings.”
“She said that she loves me,” He muttered after a long moment of silence. “She said that after you two spoke- thank you by the way, that she felt more confident to talk to me. It was the first time I felt her apology was genuine.”
We had a long stretch of silence, the two of us just looking at one another, before Seokjin looked down. With a deep sigh, he ruffled his hair before asking to borrow a paper and pen from me. He knew where everything was, so it was an easy yes. I was no surer of what was to come than before, but hoped whatever it may be that my friends would be happy.
He sent off his letter soon after. I had started sweeping and making a schedule for the day in my head. There was a lot that I needed to get done. My absence had caused a large supply chain blockage to the sea coven, and I needed to get on it right away. Shiloh was asleep, her schedule still recovering from her trip, but I would wake her up to make the delivery later. No one else lived close enough to justify the trip and with Wendy still gone I had no one to send it to magically. After some more thinking, I asked Seokjin if he could write Cordelia and ask if anyone would be willing to pick up the supplies. He agreed easily and got to work.
It was a rare moment of silence with the solar witch. I knew his mind was all over the place, and his anxieties were not helping the matter one bit. I feared the worst but knew he would speak to me about it when he was ready. I would give him his quiet.
“I rejected her,” He finally said, voice cracking.
“Oh, Jinnie,” I cooed, putting my broom down and gathering him in my arms. That was a hard thing for him to do. I was proud of him for doing what was best for him, even if I was hoping my friends could make it work for both of their sake. “Yfel am sorig.”
He sobbed, “I can’t do it again, B. I just can’t.”
And I understood. I would deal with Wendy later, her own emotions probably bubbling over. I was sure Seokjin had alluded to being friends, keeping in contact- something that would give her hope like she had done so many times before. I knew he meant it and wanted the four of us to be like we were. I was no fool to think it would actually happen. Too much had been done and said for anything to be the same as it was.
Still, I hope with time we could grow together. I loved my friends dearly and hoped we could spend Yule together like we had when we were young. I was also not foolish enough to get my hopes up either. The never-ending cycle.
“I know. I know,” I whispered, rubbing his back.
Seokjin held me tightly and cried.
Over the next three days, Jimin and Taehyung started to venture out of the house more often. I had not heard from Wendy or Seokjin, but Yoongi wrote daily to make sure that I was alright. He was worried I would get another unexpected visit from the wolves. I was not sure if that was the case, but I was prepared to speak to someone eventually. I had a feeling Hoseok was staying away in order to keep the peace. When Jimin and I spoke about him it seemed like he was trying to make Namjoon change his mind. So far that had not been very successful, and the oldest alpha was still bitter about the fight with Jimin. Taehyung was becoming more resolute to the possibility of a fight and had been sparring with Jimin in case it came down to a brawl.
Shiloh had woken up earlier and earlier over the course of the last few days. Not as early as I was used to, but I would take noon over eleven at night. Taehyung and Jimin were still getting used to my late mornings. After staying up well into the night I was not out of bed unless absolutely necessary. My magic was stronger than it had been, but I could feel my body was still adjusting. Ever since I was child my magic drained the life out of me and defensive magic more than anything else. The Namjoon incident had thrown me for a loop, and I was having a difficult time coming back fully.
Aldara used to worry about my fainting spells after our lessons. She said that it was unnatural for a witch to become so overwhelmed by their own magic, but after many years of self-reflection, I realized that my body was always using magic. Unlike other witches who could control their output, my gifts left me vulnerable and weakened. The constant possessions and lack of self-control were two of the biggest downfalls of my own power. However, a small outburst would no longer make me as depleted as it once had. The last time I fainted after using magic had been the night, I found the cottage on fire.
Flipping through my grimoire, I tried to find the potion I made that reduced anxiety. Wendy was returning tomorrow, and Cordelia asked if I could send some to Syrena. I had only made this particular recipe twice and was still too unfamiliar with it to make it from memory. It would be Wendy’s luck that I sent over a shifting potion rather than a mood stabilizer, but I had faith in Griselda’s recipe.
I was worried about her. While it was normal to go weeks without talking, I was afraid she may be upset with me over the situation with Jin. She had to be suspicious we had spoken and probably thought I told him what to do. That, or she had convinced herself that Yoongi had something to do with it. Wendy had a difficult time seeing things for what they were, and while I felt empathy for her, I would never choose between my friends. I loved and respected them both and wished I could get out of the middle of everything. It was her who told him about our conversation in the first place.
Unable to find it I grew frustrated. I hated being so unorganized. Everything was sprawled about and jotted down in sloppy, rushed writing. Half of it hardly made sense to me and I pitied my successor. Poor girl will have to learn how to read hieroglyphics before she could understand half of what was written. Giving up, I slammed the book shut and decided to write Enver. He was the only witch I knew that would have something like this on standby. Carefully rolling the paper, I began to chant a new spell I had learned after reading Pippa’s grimoire and blew. The paper turned to ash and was gone.
Pippa was by all accounts a whack job. She had the most unorthodox methods of any witch I had ever read or heard of. Even looking through her countless spell books made that abundantly clear. She drew many of her spells in a step-by-step fashion that was somehow more difficult to follow than normal. Every spell and potion had strange ingredients that you would never put together and yet worked. She was brilliant. Aldara always made fun of my adoration for the woman, called me the next “nutcase,” and teased me about my own muddled grimoire. Still, no one could deny how talented Pippa was. This spell in particular was one of my favorites I learned so far. It was simple, used hardly any energy at all, and was extremely effective. I was happy my days of meteor powder were gone- even if I invented that one.
The front door slammed open. Screaming, I felt my heart speed up and my vision flash black and white for a moment. Composing myself, I shot daggers at Taehyung as he strolled into the cottage. Jimin bowed, his apology clear, before following the younger alpha inside.
“It’s such a beautiful day!” Taehyung exclaimed, rolling onto the couch.
My eyes twitched.
“Try that again,” I demanded.
The man shot up. His confusion was clear. Jimin stood in the doorway, an amused look on his face. Walking inside, he stood near the door and crossed his arms over his chest. I forced my eyes away from his toned back and continued to scowl at Taehyung.
“Try what again?” Taehyung asked.
“Walking into my house like a civilized person,” I deadpanned. “I swear, you act like you’ve never learned manners a day in your life. First putting your dirty, disgusting, muddy boots on my counter and now this? Thin ice, Tae. Thin ice.”
Taehyung scratched the back of his head and did as I asked. This time he gently opened the door and shut it. Satisfied, I hummed before going back to looking at my spell book. I really needed to buy a new one just to fix how ugly it all looked. I wanted to slap the little girl who thought this system was going to work. Groaning, I stood up and decided to take my work to the cellar.
“What are you looking for?” Taehyung asked, face glowing when he realized where I was going.
The wolf enjoyed taking trips with me and looking over my shoulder. I knew he hardly understood anything since most of it was written in Latin, but I knew it meant a lot to him. His curiosity never seemed to lessen or change. Jimin had not asked to come but I had a feeling it was his way of not being “rude.” I wished he would.
“I need to find a spell for a friend,” I answered. “I have one, but I wrote it when I was twelve and did not care if I could read it again. Such a childish thing to do.”
Taehyung laughed and was by my side without another second passing. Both of the wolves enjoyed hearing about my childhood. Tae had said it made me more human, but Jimin always told him that everyone knew I was. I wondered about their own childhood days. Jimin had been brave and reserved when we first met, just as he is now, but there was a sweetness there that was no longer present. This innocence that he could never get back. I knew that he could say the same about me. Seeing him again after all of those years had been a shock to my system. It was almost like our time in the forest had been completely erased from his memory. I was happy to see the gentleness within him again.
“May I join you?”
Pausing, I looked up at the alpha. Taehyung had already gone down the stairs and I could hear him shuffling through things. Jimin smiled at me, and I nodded. I was still riding high after the other night. We had not talked about it, but I knew something had changed since then. Jimin was more willing to be near me, his eyes ever so slightly softer, and his voice was like clouds. It felt like the wall of ice he had around himself had melted and I was able to feel his warmth once more. Jimin followed behind me closely.
After lighting the sconces on the walls, I found Taehyung curled in a corner of the room with a book in his hand. It was probably another one of Aldara’s monster books. She had seen so much in her long life. Before she took her place as the Bridd, Aldara had been a monster slayer. The first person in the world to defeat a Quietus, and was so good at it, she chased them out of Bangtan. All the ones that remain are in the northern part of Moland and tend to stay out of the forest. The book Taehyung held were the short stories Aldara had written about her adventures. She was far cooler than me at that age.
“It’s bigger than I thought,” Jimin whispered.
“It grows whenever we need a new bookcase,” I replied.
Jimin did not ask for clarification. He did not ask as many questions as Taehyung did, which I also chalked up to the etiquette training he received when he became an alpha. Taehyung had barely started those before being exiled. I thought about Namjoon and my letter and sighed. I still had not heard back from him. Jimin said my name, breaking me out of my thoughts.
“Who was the first Bridd?”
Shaking my head, I smiled. “Her name was Rosette.”
“How did this family thing even start?” Taehyung wondered out loud.
Taking a breath, I sat down at my small desk and gestured for the two men to sit. I recalled the first time I had heard this story. Back then, Aldara was less rigid and tense. Her hands were so much bigger than mine, and I remember her cooing at the dimples where my knuckles should be. I had been entranced by the blonde woman she had spoken so highly of.
“Rosette was from the Foxglove Village. This was many years ago when the town was home to all the shifters in Lustra. She was the daughter of a merchant and grew up surrounded by people who adored her. Life in Bangtan was hard but calm. That’s when the tales of the Quietus started to spread down south.”
Quietus were air elementals that had been the first settlers of Lustra along with the dragons. Aldara had called them “lost souls” who were scorned after the Sarkans attacked their land over a thousand years ago. The attack on Bangtan was a result of the people who lived here not coming to their aid when the humans came to take their cities, but they ended up getting it back soon after.
“After the Century War with Etelin, however, their people had been reduced to living in the swamps once the elves had allowed the Sarkans to inhabit what was once elemental territories. The few that came into the forest were stragglers hell bent on avenging their people or those who were so starved they had slowly lost their minds.”
Jimin’s face told me he knew of them. Taehyung was still lost in the fairytale. I sighed before continuing.
“These creatures were unheard of to the shifters; their people had only come to Lustra after their island had been destroyed by a natural disaster. Their treaties were still so new, so fresh, and their numbers so depleted, they had never gotten word of the siege. Rosette said that the first time her people heard of it was when their village was up in flames.
“They were convinced that the Reikans had something to do with the attack, and even if they were not directly involved, they were complacent. The Quietus queen, Nerezza, lost her youngest child during the Sarkan invasion. It was her grief of losing her child that drove her vengeful attack. Of course, they were wrong. The Reikans were skittish and afraid of fighting.”
“Hey! What’s that supposed to mean?” Taehyung interrupted. “Shifters are strong.”
“Yes,” I agreed. “Your ancestors were strong people who lived through losing their homeland and were able to find a home here. However,” I pursed my lips. “Your kind are from Korika and were born fighters, but the people from Reika were very different from those your people remember. Whoever landed on your land integrated into your cultures. The others were left to build this land in their image.
“Those that lived here were no match for the Quietus. Even their warriors lacked the stomach for a true fight. It was said that no one but one made it out alive. Of course, that was not true. Many escaped but only one became significant.”
“Rosette,” Jimin muttered.
“Yes, Rosette,” I nodded. “She was a beautiful girl. Her long, blonde hair and bright green eyes made her stand out in a crowd. She was a bird shifter who was in love with a fox in town. She was only 16 when the attack on the village began. She, her sister, and a lucky few were able to escape.
“Rosette was the oldest and was familiar with military strategies from her time with the fox boy. She told them all to split up and find their way to safety. Rose found herself in this very clearing when she called out to the sky to help her. She asked the Gods for help. Suddenly, she was surrounded by warmth despite the blizzard going on around her. She knew it was them, she never knew how she did, but it was a feeling, and the wind around her asked what she wanted.
“Rosette asked for her sister’s life to be spared and in exchange she would do whatever the Goddess wanted. They accepted this offer. In exchange for her sister, Rosette and her bloodline would be tasked with being a guardian of the forest. That was the day we lost our freedom.
“She woke up the following morning in this cottage, her leg chained just as mine is now, and magic she had never had before. After being alone for over 100 years, she was sent Jordana. We never know when we’ll be sent our pupil but when it happens, we have 16 years left. It’s our duty to train them, raise them, and prepare them before our ascension to the spirit world.”
“Why can’t you shift as you please then?” Taehyung asked. Jimin smacked his arm, but I waved him off.
No harm in asking.
“Our transformations are directly tied with the moon and sun. The Gods love to see us dancing, whirling, and twirling through the sky. We’re lucky we were able to keep that part of ourselves in the deal. Magic and shifting is simply unheard of outside of these woods.”
“Is it the same for genuine werewolves?” Taehyung asked. “The sun and moon thing?”
I laughed, “No, silly. Werewolves are cursed to be compelled by the full moon. They’re practically animals after their first transformation. No one comes back from that, and they usually die within the first three months. Nothing like what you and I are.”
Taehyung seemed placated by this. He often called himself a werewolf much to Jimin’s chagrin. I could understand why the older alpha would be offended. They were born what they are, and their bloodline is strong. A werewolf has to be made and their species is dying out in the Ozryn Mountains from starvation. The last werewolf outbreak was decades ago and was swiftly dealt with by the dwarves in Idris.
After the story was over, Taehyung went back to reading Aldara’s book and I got to look around for that stupid potion again. I had yet to hear back from Enver and assumed he was busy. He was awful at writing back.
Jimin walked around the cellar and traced all of the books. It was astounding just how many were in here. Aldara alone had written over forty grimoires in her lifetime, and she was known to only figure out defensive magic spells. Rosette had 120, Jordana had 205, and Griselda had the record for the most with 223. I could not imagine having so many ideas. I have only finished three so far and was working on my fourth. I came up with more spells in my youth than I did now. I had a lot more fun with my magic then, too. Feeling bad about myself, I decided to take a break.
“Your aunt was so cool,” Taehyung said.
“Yeah, she was the coolest,” I grinned, my voice growing quiet at the word “was.”
It was getting late. The three of us had spent the day in the cellar. Jimin quietly skimmed through the books and was happy when I pointed him towards the diaries on the small shelf in the back. Taehyung had enough stories to last him a few more years. I flipped through Pippa’s spell books and made small talk with Taehyung. He always had something to say, and it was nice to have someone fill the silence around here.
Taehyung had gone up to take a nap over an hour ago leaving Jimin and I alone in the cellar. He was hunched over a book, eyebrows knitted in concentration, and tongue sticking out ever so slightly. I was sure he knew I kept stealing looks but chose not to comment on my ogling. It was rare to see him so closely and relaxed. Shiloh had let me know she was visiting Morla to give updates on Wendy. Mumbling under my breath, I watched as the pen and ink I had brought down earlier wrote in my spell book. I caved and let them do the work for me.
While reading over the other grimoires and books within the cellar, I had made myself a few notes of things I could experiment with. It was not as fun as Pippa’s nor as straightforward as Griselda’s, but I was happy to have thought of anything in the first place. Most of my experimenting went to the wolf pack and it was nice to have fun for myself. Aldara would be happy to see my creative muscles flexing again.
“Bridd?” Jimin called, voice soft and smooth.
I hummed and looked over. His hair looked dark gray in the candlelight and I eyed the messy flyaways floating around him. I wished I could brush them down. Jimin regarded me with the same stoic face I had come to love. I knew it was only a small facade put in place for the sake of his people. They needed a strong, dominant leader around them and no one else wanted to fill that role. I saw the ghost of a smile graze his lips and relaxed further into my chair. Those were only reserved for a chosen few.
“Why don’t you have anything here?” He asked.
“Everything that I own is upstairs,” I replied. “It would be far too much effort to come here anytime I needed to write or look over my work.”
He chuckled, “So, you do have a diary?”
Blushing, I nodded. “All of us do. It’s the best way to keep records for our successors.”
I would not allow him to read mine. It had far too many thoughts that I never wanted to reenter my mind. There was a particular time where I wrote daily and thus created five separate books detailing my misery. I would be mortified if Jimin or anyone for that matter got their hands on those. They held my deepest fears, darkest desires, and above all- what happened to me. I was always the most open in my writing and never felt the need to keep anything hidden. No one had ever noticed them on display or bothered to care much for them at all.
“Yours must be very interesting.”
I shook my head, “Not really. Mostly the angsty ramblings of a teenager. Nothing more.”
I sounded convincing enough. I heard Jimin shuffling around but refused to look his way. Deciding that I was done for the night, I began closing and stacking the grimoires I had taken out. I will sort through them later. Glancing at the walls, I could not tell what time it was but knew it had to be close to sunset. I needed to get to my room soon.
Going to turn, strong arms found themselves resting on either side of my waist. Shocked, I turned my head to find Jimin standing directly behind me. He chest pressed against my shoulder as I turned to face him. He had never been so close to me before.
I could count the small, individual freckles that dotted along his nose. His eyelashes were longer than I thought they were and flared out accentuating his eye shape. Everything about him was overwhelming and his scent hit me like a freight train. Hands gripping onto my desk, I struggled to speak.
“Jimin?” I managed to get out.
“Can I tell you something?” He whispered, getting closer.
Our chests touched and his hands moved behind my back. I felt his arms wrapping around me, but his hands stayed on the table. Nervously breaking our eye contact, I glanced behind me to see his hands sitting one on top of the other. I was shaking and had a hard time breathing. Jimin called my name, and I snapped back to his gaze.
“Can I?” His eyes were as black as coal.
A deep shiver went up my spine. Unable to form a coherent thought, I nodded. I swallowed thickly and reminded myself to breathe. Jimin smiled at me.
“I enjoy your company.”
Again, I could only manage a nod, my heart racing and mouth dry. Jimin’s face drew closer to mine. I took a sharp breath and held his eyes. I was searching for the meaning of this but found I could not read him anymore. This was a different man from the person that had been reading moments ago.
“I like being close to you. Is that alright?”
“Yes,” I replied breathlessly.
“Do you want me to stop?” He whispered, his breath brushing my lips.
I knew I should have pushed him away and told him that this could never work. Our lives were too different. It was far too complicated. He had a mate out there waiting for him. He would forget about me soon enough. Even knowing all of that, I shook my head.
“No.”
It was unlike anything I had ever experienced before. Jimin’s lips were soft and warm and lit my body on fire. The kiss was searing, and I felt the flames so deeply they licked at my bones. Hot shots of electricity licked my spine, and I grabbed a hold of his chest without another thought. Jimin’s arms encased me. Everything that I feared, wondered, and regretted did not matter anymore. None of it matters. He was here and he was mine.
Pulling away, I opened my eyes and saw him already gazing down at me. His eyes were so soft, gentle, and kind. Everything about him made me feel safe. He bent down and nuzzled his nose into my hairline.
“Thank you,” He whispered.
Dazed, I only nodded before seeking his lips out again. Jimin cupped my face and drew me impossibly closer. Any tenderness was gone the moment my tongue accidentally grazed his bottom lips. With a small growl, Jimin licked his way into my mouth and roughly grabbed a hold of my hips. Using his leg, he gently pried my legs apart and lifted me onto the desk. My hands had a vice grip on his shirt.
Suddenly, I felt a cold shiver run through my body and yanked away. Jimin took a few steps back. I could see that he understood what was happening. After choking out a “go,” I stood up from the desk and screamed. Jimin was out of the cellar before the first feather broke through my scarred skin.
Translations:
Swîgian âstillian. - Be quiet.
Hwæt−hwugu ðrîstian êow? - How dare you?
Sê ðafian êower m¯ægð teohhian êower weorðfulnes? - Who do you people think you are?
Yfel am sorig. - I am so sorry.
Thither is êower hygd? - Where is your mind?
Belāda mē - Sorry.
Quare? - Why?
Putasne me stultum esse? - Do you think I'm stupid?
Sol a me auferre conaris! - You are trying to take Sol from me!
Quid irrumabo facimus? - What the fuck do we do?
Nescio. - I don’t know.
Recedite ab ea! - Get away from her!
Licuitne futura est? - Is she going to be alright?
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🐈⬛ House Panther ➳ Do you have any pets? Share a photo.
I do! I have my two cats--I'll post pictures under a readmore
🦫 Wooden Lodge ➳ What would your dream home look like?
Oh man--plants everywhere! A few bedrooms--for guests, of course--a nice kitchen, an office space. Not huge, but big enough to not feel cluttered.
🦦 Sea Puppy ➳ What is something that makes you genuinely happy?
You ❤️
🥀 Beauty With Thorns ➳ What is a deal breaker for you in a relationship?
I'll choose just one thing: smoking of any kind.
🌻 Sun Kissed ➳ What’s your ideal type of person to be in a relationship with?
Umm...someone who's a dork. I'm a dork, so I need someone on my level of dork, someone who can be mature if needed, but is also just a giant nerd.
Leroy on the left and Thomas on the right
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Of Dragons and Maelstroms
Themes and Warnings: slow burn, enemies to lovers, blood, violence, explicit language, sexual violence, period-typical misogyny, sexual themes, smut, tension, marriage, jealousy, pregnancy, childbirth, miscarriage, attempted sexual assault, breastfeeding, major character death, divergent timelines
Disclaimer: I do not own any of the House of The Dragon/Fire & Blood/Game of Thrones characters nor do I claim to own them. I do not own any of the images used nor do I claim to own them.
Chapter Sixty-Nine
“Do not think this means I forgive you for lying to me.”
After breaking their fast together following their coupling, Aemond brought Maera to peak again twice more. The minute they had finished eating, the one-eyed Prince removed both of their clothes completely before leading them to their shared bed.
He sat down, reclining back against the headboard before guiding Maera to straddle him, hands on her hips as he slowly lowered her onto his stiff cock. Aemond rocked her back and forth in a rolling motion, hitting her spongey spot just right with every movement, burying his head in her full chest as his breathing became heavier. She gripped onto his shoulders desperately, throwing her head back as she felt her climax slowly build, her arousal coating his cock and thighs with her release.
The second time she peaked was by Aemond once again feasting on her with his tongue, head between her rounded thighs as she lay back on their bed, lapping up their mixed essence with his skilful tongue as he coaxed her orgasm from her, like a starving man who had not known sustenance for an ungodly amount of time. After cumming again, Maera lay on her husband’s chest, a tangle of limbs and warmth in the soft glow of the morning light through the windows.
The Prince’s toned, slim torso pressed against Maera's curvaceous form. His muscular arms enveloped her, one hand gently stroking her hair as they basked in the afterglow of their passion. With his eyepatch removed, the sapphire nestled in the hollow of his eye socket gleamed in the soft daylight, casting a mesmerizing glow across his sharp-featured face. Maera's body was a canvas of curves, her skin bore the faint flush of their shared ecstasy, enhancing the natural beauty that radiated from her every feature. Her brown curls, tousled and wild, framed her face in a cascade of unruly elegance, the silver streak shimmering like a celestial thread woven into the fabric of her being.
Aemond met her gaze, the softening of his violet eye betraying a depth of emotion, though his face retained its stoic exterior. His fingers tenderly weaved their way through her locks as he spoke, "I respect you enough to never presume that forgiveness is easily earned."
Maera shifted her body to lay on her side, aligning herself to face him, prompting Aemond to mirror her movement. Their eyes locked in a silent exchange of understanding. She teased him with a playful sternness, "You are still paying back the debt for being an arse to me all those years ago."
A silent laugh escaped Aemond's lips, his affectionate gaze never leaving hers. "A debt I will no doubt be paying for until the end of my days," he acknowledged, reaching out to delicately move a strand of hair from her face.
Maera responded with a contemplative hum. Despite the intimacy they had shared, the specter of Aemond’s deception loomed large in her mind. Her heart, heavy with the weight of their shared history, yearned for reconciliation, for a restoration of the bond that had once held them fast. Yet, amidst the tender caress of his touch, the echo of Alys's presence lingered. The spells the witch had woven, binding Aemond and Maera together through dark sorcery, whispered like sinister echoes in the recesses of Maera's consciousness, their implications casting a pall of unease over her thoughts.
Anger smoldered within Maera, a seething fire fueled by the knowledge of Aemond's laying with Alys and the tragic consequences that had befallen her extended family. Betrayal gnawed at the edges of her resolve, a bitter taste lingering on her tongue as she grappled with the weight of Aemond's deceit.
Confusion gnawed at her soul, twisting and turning like a tempestuous sea, as she grappled with the conflicting emotions that warred within her, as well as questions she still longed to know the answer to. “If she knew we were fated to be bound, that our union had to happen… why did you treat me with such hostility the moment I returned seven months ago?”
Aemond’s expression softened, his gaze drifting as he searched for the right words. “I was angry, I suppose,” he admitted with a shrug, the admission heavy with the weight of his past actions. “Angry at our fractured friendship, and angry at the sense of inevitability Alys had painted about our future together. It felt like I had no control.”
Maera’s eyebrow arched in skepticism, prompting Aemond to offer further explanation. “I thought that by pushing you away, I could change the course of our lives. But as it turns out, you cannot change fate.”
She focussed on his words. Fate. Helaena also said fate could not be changed. Lady Gael in her dreams said fate was foretold by the Gods. Was everything truly written by the Seven and they were merely acting out their pre-conceived roles? Or could it be altered, even a fraction of an amount? Alys had told Aemond although fate could not be changed, it could be swayed.
Sensing her introspection, Aemond gently cupped her face in his hand, their eyes locked in a shared moment of vulnerability. "I never meant to hurt you, nor dishonor you in the eyes of the court," he confessed, his sincerity evident.
Maera frowned, her fingers tracing the jagged scar beneath his sapphire eye. "What's done is done," she murmured, a mixture of acceptance and resilience in her voice. After a moment of reflection, Maera spoke again, her tone measured. "It will take me some time to trust you again. You will need to accept that."
Aemond nodded, his gaze filled with understanding and a quiet determination to prove himself worthy. With a sigh, Maera's gaze wandered down to her swelling belly, her hand instinctively resting upon the curve of her abdomen. "As tempting as it may be to mount Ēbrion and escape from it all...I want this marriage to succeed."
Aemond's hand found hers on her stomach, a gesture, this time, that brought a sense of solace. Maera continued, her voice tinged with determination. "Not just for the child I carry, but for us as well. We exchanged vows before the Gods in the Sept. With House Targaryen divided and a war raging around us, our child needs parents who are..."
"Who are?" Aemond prodded gently, his curiosity evident.
Rolling her eyes playfully, Maera finished her thought with a stubborn resolve. "United."
Aemond chuckled softly, sinking back against his pillow with a wry smile. "That's not what you were going to say," he teased, his eye dancing with amusement.
Maera propped herself up on her elbow, her gaze fixed on Aemond as she prepared to speak her mind. “What did you expect me to say, husband? Some grand declaration of love or poetic verses about our supposed magical bond?” she quipped, her tone laced with playful sarcasm.
Aemond's smirk only widened. “I would not necessarily oppose that,” he replied, his eye sparkling with amusement.
Rolling her eyes with a smile, Maera continued, her expression turning more serious. “My feelings about you at the moment are... complicated, to say the least. I doubt you would care to hear them,” she confessed, her tone tinged with uncertainty.
Aemond lifted his arm to rest behind his head, his features softening with a hint of seriousness. “I will gladly accept whatever feelings you have towards me, Maera. The good, the bad, the confusing ones too. Your words may burn, but I am a dragon. I can endure,” he assured her, his gaze unwavering.
Maera sighed, resigning herself to the conversation ahead. “You speak of burning, but you forget the wreckage you have left in your wake. My heart has been shattered by you more times than I can count,” she began. Maera glanced at him from the corner of her eye and could see he was listening intently. She continued, “We were children of nine when we first met, and I believed we shared a bond unlike any other. But that bond was shattered when you claimed Vhagar, leaving me to pick up the pieces of our broken friendship.”
Her words continued to flow with an undercurrent of emotion, her hands gesturing animatedly as she sought to convey the depth of her anguish to her husband. “Then I return for Aegon and Helaena’s wedding, hoping for reconciliation, and you treated me with disdain, as if I were beneath you.” Aemond listened in silence, his single violet eye fixed unwaveringly on her face. His expression was a mask of solemnity, his features drawn tight with the weight of her words.
Her brow furrowed in concentration, her green eyes fixed on a point in the distance as she gathered her thoughts, the weight of her memories pressing heavily upon her. “Yet, despite your cruelty, I found myself drawn to you like a moth to a flame, only to be burned time and time again.”
Maera then balled up the sheet covering her body within her fist, gripping it intensely as her anger spilled over. “You entertained the notion of witch’s prophecies, foolish enough to give a woman who practices dark magic your blood and seed. And now my aunt Viserra, my last link to my mother, and her kin, are gone. Sacrificed at your hand, all to bind me to you, to ensure that I am yours and yours alone.”
She shook her head in disbelief, realising how absolutely preposterous this sounded, each chaotic event painting a sad and broken picture of her life with Aemond in it. “You chased away suitors, denied me happiness outside of your grasp, refusing to let me have anything that did not involve you. And now, with the revelation of your manipulations, I question whether my feelings for you are genuine or merely a product of your meddling.”
Maera’s eyes began to water at this. She was afraid, afraid that none of this was real. Aemond’s hand wandered to touch her arm lovingly, a silent affirmation of his attentiveness and empathy, a glimmer of understanding flashing across his face. With each hesitant breath, Maera spoke her next words with brutal honesty, staring him down as tears began to flow freely. “You are cruel, Aemond. And arrogant. And selfish.” Throughout her words, Aemond remained silent, his expression unreadable as he absorbed her criticisms. There was no trace of hurt in his features, but rather a contemplative expression that hinted at deep introspection.
Maera sighed once more, her frustration momentarily abated. “But you are more than that.” She reached across and traced his contoured jawline with her finger, using a feather light touch. “More than your Targaryen blood. More than a dragon rider. More than the second son.” Her head leant down as she traced his jawline with her lips, the satisfying sound of a groan catching in the Prince’s throat. “More than your duty. More than the expectations of the Realm or your family. More than your past choices.”
Closing her eyes, she ghosted her lips across his, hesitant for the next words to leave her mouth. But they were true, and they were needed in this moment, more for herself than for him. A reminder and vow as to why she was with him of her own volition instead of just a political alliance or the spell cast by a witch.
“Ao issi ñuhon,” You are mine, Maera whispered against him, feeling him shift next to her, and his neck crane upwards, his hand reaching out to cup her cheek. “Sepār avy jorrāelan.” And of course I love you.
Aemond’s sighed deeply at her words of devotion to him. Yet as he leaned in for a kiss, she pulled back, a coy smile playing at the corners of her mouth as she stood from their bed, slipped into her robe and rang for her servants.
“But you still have much to atone for, my Prince,” she warned him with a smirk, chuckling to herself as she took in his wide-eyed expression. In that fleeting moment of hesitation, she asserted her independence and agency, a reminder to Aemond that her love was freely given and not to be taken for granted.
And ‘atone’ he most certainly did. For a month, he toiled in her service in order to win back her affections, unknown to other members of the court. The gestures started off small. Instead of retreating to the Tower of the Hand to work alone, he now made a conscious effort to complete his paperwork at Maera’s side, sending for her to join him or setting up his writing desk in their shared chambers.
He sought to express his love and devotion through lavish gifts, each carefully selected to reflect Maera’s diverse interests and passions. Uncensored scrolls from the Citadel offered her unrestricted access to knowledge and information, while new paints from YiTi promised to enrich her artistic pursuits. And when it came to her weapons, Aemond spared no expense, adorning her old dagger with sapphires and emeralds that sparkled in the candlelight, as well as a fresh polish to the metal of the blade.
Aside from these, the Prince also helped the dragon keepers in the design of Ēbrion’s saddle, fit to be used by Maera as a rider. The saddle, fashioned after the design of Vhagar's legendary equipment, was a formidable sight to behold. Crafted from black leather and adorned with intricate chains and ropes, it exuded an air of strength and resilience. The chest harness provided a sturdy foundation for the saddle, while reins attached to the saddle allowed for precise control over the beast's movements.
As the dragon keepers worked tirelessly to fit Ēbrion with the new creation, Maera stood watchful by his side, a calming presence amidst the chaos. Although she was reassured by the Vovnik that the beast would not feel a thing due his tough hide of scales, Maera still winced at the sound of the saddle being bolted onto her dragon’s chest and back. Yet she remained poised and vigilant, soothing Ēbrion with gentle words and comforting touches.
Aemond stood at a distance, watching the proceedings with a mix of admiration and longing. He understood that the beast’s fierce nature required delicate handling, especially in the midst of such significant changes. Maera had explained that since Aemond still evoked some negative feelings, she did not want this to be transferred to her mount, which could possibly result in the death of more Keepers or even her own husband. And as much as he still angered her, she did not wish true harm to befall him.
During his month of atonement, Maera kept the Prince at arm’s length. Although she was grateful for the gifts and his newfound attention, she was still hurt, and had not invited Aemond back to her bed since the day she rode Ēbrion. And the Prince had not presumed to join her, which Maera found oddly admirable, her resolve began to soften as the nights grew colder and lonelier. After a week of restless sleep and silent longing, she finally relented and allowed him back into their shared bed.
That night, and each night after, Maera couldn't deny the comfort of Aemond's warmth beside her. She curled up against him, feeling the steady rise and fall of his chest with each breath. Aemond would wrap his arms around her, pulling her close in a protective embrace. In the darkness of their chamber, they found a sense of peace in each other's arms, their bodies fitting together as if they were made for each other.
Most mornings, she was now awoken to Aemond indulging himself between her legs, calloused hands stroking up and down her soft thighs as he feasted on her, his violet eye shut with bliss. When she was awake enough to realise what was happening, Maera hands would immediately fly to his hair, grabbing onto fistfuls of the silver locks for dear life as pleasure coursed through her very soul, now so much more intense as she entered the second part of her pregnancy.
With each gesture, Aemond hoped to demonstrate his unwavering commitment to Maera, to show her that he was willing to go to great lengths to earn back her trust and affection. And as the days turned into weeks, Maera couldn’t help but be moved by his sincerity, gradually allowing herself to soften in his presence, to once again find solace in the embrace of the man she loved. She had not forgiven, nor forgotten, but the sting of his transgression hurt a lot less than before.
On a windy day during the fourth month of the year, Aemond and Maera worked tirelessly in their shared chambers at their own pursuits. As the storm raged outside, the sky was a canvas of gray clouds, swirling with the promise of heavy rain. Leaves, tinged with the fiery hues of autumn, danced on the wind before being swept away by the downpour. The air was heavy with the scent of damp earth and fallen leaves, a reminder of the changing season.
Inside, Maera sat at her easel, her paintbrush moving with fluid strokes across the canvas. The flickering candlelight cast shadows on the walls as she carefully crafted a new painting, another to add to the growing pile in her room. This one was destined for the nursery of their unborn child. Her brushstrokes were deliberate and precise, capturing the essence of a tranquil night sky.
In the painting, a full moon hung low on the horizon, casting a soft glow over the landscape below. Against the backdrop of stars, nine dragon silhouettes soared gracefully, each representing a member of House Targaryen connected to the new babe. Maera meticulously painted each dragon, infusing them with life and vitality despite their stark black outlines. Two larger dragons, one representing Maera and the other Aemond, stood as parents guarding the night sky. Surrounding them were the dragons of Helaena, Aegon, and Daeron, the aunt and uncles. Two smaller silhouettes represented the child's cousins, Jaehaera and Maelor.
A subtle, keen eye could discern two faint, almost imperceptible silhouettes. One symbolized Lady Gael, Maera's late mother, a spectral presence in the family's celestial tableau. The other, a smaller dragon, paid homage to Prince Jaehaerys, a reminder of the family's tragic loss. Lastly, a particularly radiant star stood out among the rest, symbolizing Maela, Helaena's lost babe, whose memory shone brightly in the night sky.
Softening the lines of the faded silhouettes with a damp sponge, a low hum from Aemond distracted Maera from her work. She turned at him and cocked her head to the side, curious as to what was on his mind. The Prince did not even have to look up from his writing to know the green eyes of his wife were on him.
“It seems that twat in the cells finally succumbed to his torture,” Aemond grumbled, causing Maera to frown, not understanding to whom he was referring. From her lack of reply, Aemond looked up, his brows furrowed. “Blood.”
The butcher. One of the men who had slain Jaehaerys. The one who had been caught at the Gate of the Gods two days later. And who had been under torture in the dungeons ever since. Maera clenched her jaw at the thought of such a monster.
“Death was too good for him,” she replied coldly, before turning her attention back to her painting, softening the edges around the dragon that represented Jaehaerys. “Did he reveal anything useful?”
“Yes, actually. It turns out he was working for one of my uncle’s favourite whores. And that he was asked to bring Jaehaerys’ head back to Dragonstone as a prize for Daemon,” Aemond answered, his words causing Maera to tense. He continued on, “Towards his end, he gave up the names of other spies in Kings Landing, probably some feeble attempt to keep himself alive. So now I am tasked with signing their death warrants.”
Maera let out a shaky breath. “Anyone we know?”
“No one important, just a few guards. But they have patrolled our corridors, stood watch outside our doors,” Aemond sneered, noticing that Maera had now frozen at her easel. She heard his chair scrape along the stone floor as he rose from his seat, striding towards her before wrapping his arms around her waist from behind her. He placed a chaste kiss on her neck before resting his chin on her shoulder, his single violet eye looking at the masterpiece of a painting his wife was producing for their child.
Maera’s gaze lingered on the painting, her thoughts drifting to the uncertainties of their future amidst the looming threat of war. How many more dragons would be reduced to faded silhouettes if their enemies continued to plot against them? The spies lurking within their midst, their presence only now coming to light, cast a shadow of fear over the once secure halls of their home. The prospect of further losses weighed heavily on Maera’s mind, each potential death a painful reminder of the fragility of their house and the dangers that surrounded them.
“We are not safe here. None of us are,” Maera whispered, as if not wanting to breathe life into the fact she knew well. She turned to Aemond, her eyes filled with concern.
His gaze softened. “Come the morrow, those traitors will lack heads,” the Prince proclaimed with reassurance in his voice.
Before Maera could respond, Aemond lifted his hand and revealed a piece of parchment, addressed to her, bearing the seal of House Baratheon, a sight that sparked intrigue within Maera’s curious nature. Eager to uncover its contents, she reached out to snatch the parchment, only to find Aemond teasingly withholding it from her grasp. With a playful pout, Maera’s annoyance was evident, but Aemond relented, allowing her to claim the letter with a mischievous shove in return.
Breaking the wax seal, Maera’s eyes scanned the contents of the letter with keen interest, a smile gracing her face as she immediately recognised the handwriting.
“It’s from Luthor,” Maera beamed, before quickly scanning the words.
Dearest sister (Or should I refer to you as Princess in our correspondence now? Royalty or not, we still threw food at each other at the dining table not that long ago),
I hope this letter finds you in good health and high spirits. Father recently shared the joyful news of your pregnancy with me, and I couldn't be happier to hear that I will soon be an uncle again. I do hope for both your sakes that the new babe is just like your husband, even though I do not know what he was like as a small child. Memories of your mischievous nature and the mere size of you when you were born is enough to put anyone off having more than one child.
Maera’s chuckling caught Aemond’s attention, his single violet eye looking in her direction as he settled back onto his writing desk.
“He says he hopes our baby is more like you than me,” she chortled, the thought of their child filling her with joy. “Apparently I was quite large when I was born, and a difficult child as well.”
“You being described as a handful stuns me,” Aemond replied sarcastically with a smirk, picking up his quill and commencing his writing once again.
Maera rolled her eyes and scoffed. “Tis just as well you are not a jester or we would all be bored of your unfunny material,” she teased before turning her attention back to the letter.
In other news, I am pleased to inform you that I am now wed to Lady Cassandra, the eldest daughter of Lord Borros Baratheon. Our wedding coincided with that of Prince Daeron and Lady Ellyn Baratheon, and I must say, the poor prince seemed quite terrified. I did my best to offer him comfort amidst the festivities. Thank the Gods for whatever the Maester gave him to perform in the bedding ceremony, lest I do not think this would have been completed otherwise. Unfortunately for his new bride, the Prince returned to his duties and flew back to the Reach after bedding her, with the promise to return in a few weeks time.
“My brother is wed, as is yours. And Daeron was able to fulfil his duty, the poor boy,” Maera announced to her husband, a pang of sympathy for the youngest Targaryen Prince in her voice. Aemond simply hummed in response as he continued writing his documents. She read on.
Of course, I had no qualms fulfilling my duty and bedding my new wife. (I will spare you the details. Hearing snippets of what happened on your own wedding night was enough to make my skin crawl, and I shan’t wish that on you in your current condition.) The Baratheon girl seems pleasant enough and I find myself still getting to know her. Lady Cassandra possesses the typical Baratheon traits of black hair and striking blue eyes, and I must admit, I am surprisingly eager to earn her approval. A simple laugh at one of my jokes during dinner felt more rewarding than winning any sparring match.
Father is adamant about the importance of fathering an heir, as a male child could potentially inherit Storm's End. Yet, I fear his ambitions may overwhelm my new bride. I tread cautiously, not wanting to frighten her away. I will fulfil my duty, yes, but I will not pressure nor force the Lady to bear me a child in such haste.
A sad smile graced Maera’s face. Happiness was such a rare thing in political marriages. But Luthor was trying and, for this, she felt proud of her elder brother. Maera was not surprised of her father’s pressuring agenda yet it did not stop her from feeling irritated. Every Lord that steps foot into the Red Keep is so full of self-interest in an attempt to get close to, or even sit upon, the Iron Throne. She could not understand why Lord Jasper would push his children so hard just to have his blood be apart of the tapestry that made up the great Houses of Westeros.
Maera understood Aemond’s desire for the throne. He had worked so hard throughout his life, only for it to be given to his oaf of brother, simply because Aegon was born first. Yet as stupid and ill-equipped as her brother-in-law was, she was glad it would not be a burden that would be passed onto her own children. That ugly metal chair brought nothing but chaos and destruction to those who sat on it.
The specter of war looms large, and I worry for your safety in King's Landing, especially given your marriage to the King's brother. I'm uncertain if the Crownlands will prove a safe haven for your growing family. Please know that even though I am far away, I am always here for you. If there is anything I can do to assist or support you, do not hesitate to ask.
Your brother,
Luthor
With a sigh, Maera folded the letter over and joined Aemond at the writing desk. Anxiety swarmed around her about the safety of her family, as well as her wards, the youngest whom would be the next King of the Seven Kingdoms after Aegon. All the while, spies for the Blacks loomed about the Keep, their identities just now coming to light. And given how easily Blood and Cheese had entered and murdered Jaehaerys, who is to say it would not happen again?
The Prince stopped writing, looking up at his wife to see concern painted across her face.
“What is wrong?” He questioned, clearly confused by her sudden dip in mood.
“Luthor is right,” Maera confessed defeatedly. “We are sitting ducks here in Kings Landing. The Blacks will come for us.”
Aemond placed his quill back in its pot of ink to reach across for Maera’s hand, squeezing it reassuringly as she spoke on. “Whilst I can justify the adults being caught in the crossfire, it is not fair on the children. Our child may nestle in the safe confines of my womb, but Jaehaera and Maelor are more exposed.”
The Prince sighed thoughtfully and nodded. “What do you suggest?”
After a moment of hesitation, Maera finally came to a conclusion. “The children need to be in a place of safety. Outside of Kings Landing.”
Notes: Let’s be honest, this chapter was a filler, which is why I was struggling to finish it. What finally got me to post it was the reminder that in these chapters there’s still key information in these chapters that will be important later on.
Tags: @abecerra611 @0eessirk8 @blue-serendipity @shesjustanothergeek @marvelescvpe @manipulatixe @watercolorskyy
Thank you so much for reading! Comments, feedback, likes, and reblogs are greatly appreciated 🖤
#maera wylde#aemond targaryen#aemond x oc#aemond fanfiction#chapters#hotd aemond#hotd fanfic#house targaryen#house wylde#hotd helaena#aemond smut
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Beware of the Fae | Yandere Lilia
“Killian!!!”
You screamed into the void of the darkening forest trying to ignore the fear tampering with your voice. Pushing past protruding branches and thorns of the brush you continued to search for your son.
“Killian!!”
You desperately call once more unsuccessfully, swallowing away your tears as you found no traces of your son. Wiping at the intrusive bubble of tears you forged on, yelling out with your haggard voice as the light of the sunset began to fade. And as the hope drained with the sunlight an old fear rebirthed itself. A fear that lived on in the forest. The fear that lingered with the naivety of children.The fear of fae.
Years ago, in a time long past you recalled the wagging finger and lecture of your parents before you could go out to play. The ones that were repeated late at night to discourage nightly raids to the forest not so far away. The stories that told you not to give your name to any characters in the forest. The lectures that said not to join in the faerie circles or step into the faerie rings.
It was a fear that the whole town fed into; a single one of many that you wish you could forget. But in all honesty your situation was a unique one, something out of a horror novel you would have read. Mysterious bloating, obvious weight gain, to undeniable pregnancy; the kicker being that you literally couldn’t have children. Lack of genitalia or no sexual partners the situation was unprecedented and really confusing. Not just for you but for the whole town who had done the most humane option and kicked you out. Which you greatly preferred over being branded a witch and burned at the stake. They let you take off on your own as an anomaly not to be messed with left to birth your child in your home that sat closest to the woods.
“Killian!!!”
In the lonesome of your lone house you had Killian. Your mystery baby was a joy even as the only person you were able to talk to other than the occasional pet. He kept you busy as he discovered the small world around him showing a growing interest in the forest. In your attempt to be a better parent you didn’t plague him with the stories and reminders about the fears of being eaten or taken by the mythical fae. Perhaps you should have.
“Killian!!!”
It was especially dark now and you were running blind but what else could you do? Sit and wait? He’s your son. So you ignored the howls of the nocturnal predators and the burning ache in your legs.
You stopped for a minute, involuntarily buckling into the mud trying to catch your breath. As you tried to drown out the bleating of your heart you could faintly hear the sound of bells tinkling. You figured your mind was playing tricks on you, slapping your cheeks to regain some sense of sanity. Only to find that the sound didn’t stop but increased; you looked up to the growing sound to see a blur of lights. Bringing your hands to wipe at your eyes, thinking perhaps you’re just hallucinating.
You stood up slowly moving towards the ring of dancing lights as you inspected the nature glowing with it. Listening, all you could hear was the twinkling harmony and..cheering? As you crept closer, you settled behind the tree to inspect the people dancing and jeering in a celebration of sorts.
These people were of many different shapes and sizes with otherworldly features. Antlers decorated with flowers and moss, pointed ears adorned with jewels, tails waving with their owners. It was a sight to behold. Regaining control of your stupefied state you made sure to keep yourself hidden scanning among the shorter fae for your son’s unruly hair. Not spotting him you were about to turn and leave only to stop as you felt the eyes of someone. Cautiously you look behind you and then back within the circle trying to see who had spotted you. It wasn’t until you looked past the lights at the far end of the circle that you met with the burgundy pair of eyes.
You’d think nothing of it if it weren’t for the fae with familiar magenta highlights holding onto your little boy curled into his lap.
You wanted to run.
You wanted to go home and cry into your bed as you waited for your son to come home.
But you couldn’t. Not when the fae that held your son had no intentions of letting either of you go, beckoning you with a coyness unique to him.
Fighting the tremble in your form, you crossed the dancing lights. Barely comforted by the unperturbed fae-crowd you went on cautiously stepping across the glowing forest floor. You began inching closer to him nearly a foot away you couldn’t bring yourself to look anywhere but your sleeping boy. Hearing a giggle from ahead you finally looked into his eyes.
“We’ve finally met (Y/n), glad to have you home.”
______________________________________________________________
You sighed, continuing to pack your few belongings into the sack you once moved away with. There wasn’t much but as you stood back to see the empty bedroom, it really all began to settle in. You were shaken out of your reflection by the pull of a tiny hand against your pant leg and the call of your name. You swooned following Killian who was proudly showing you how well he packed his things; you praised him giving him kisses as you inspected his work. He broke away from you perking up as he realized someone had stepped on the property.
“Daddy!!”
Running out the door you inhaled as you made a mental note. You’d have to get used to that. The presence of another parent would be new to you, leaving out your own complicated relationship with him aside. You fixed up his sack, chucking it over your shoulder as you headed outside to the grazing mule.
“Morning, love.”
You ignored him as you hauled the sack into the bin using the nearby rope to secure it. You tried to continue ignoring him as he playfully leaned into your view, giggling when you nudged him out of the way.
“Daddy! Daddy! C’mere I wanna show you!”
You’re grateful for Killian who happily led him into the nearly empty house as if he didn’t know every nook and cranny. You continued your process only flashing a smile or giving the proper response when Killian was looking your way. To say you were less than happy with the following arrangement would be an understatement. Finally prepared to leave you were in no mood to inform the other two instead opting to drown your sorrows with perishable food enjoying it in the solace of your room. Time passed as you satisfied your hunger and distracted from the creeping sorrow in your chest.
You curled yourself on the bare mattress letting silent tears slide down the side of your face. All you felt was the sinking of the bed and the warmth of his body behind yours. You felt his mouth graze against your ear and neck as he positioned himself in the crook of your neck and shoulder.
“He’s taking a nap. Said he was tired after working so hard.”
“Where, there isn’t anywhere for him to sleep well?”
“In the flower bed outside.”
“Flower bed? We don’t have any flowers.”
“Now you do.”
You groaned and tried shifting forward only for the fae to follow, settling even closer to you. Slithering in place his arms wrapped around your midsection, holding you in place as he rubbed your stomach. He placed a kiss along your collarbone speaking into your neck.
“I’m sorry for leaving you for all that time, (Y/n).”
You felt that same bubble of tears begin as you tried to curl away from the body already curling around you. The hand on your stomach traveled lower, unfettered as you tried to stop it on your own.
“I really am sorry (Y/n), let me make it up to you.” His position shifted, caging you in as he settled ontop of you, locking eyes with you as he tentatively rubbed your nose against his.
“Or at least,” He kissed your upper lip. “Let me start.”
#yandere x reader#yandere x you#yanderexrea#yandere#lovelyyandereaddictionpoint#yandere x y/n#yandere x darling#yandere twisted wonderland x reader#yandere twisted wonderland#yandere twst#yandere lilia vanrouge#lilia vanrouge#twisted wonderland lilia#diasomnia#yandere diasomnia#yandere fae#twisted wonderland#twisted wonderland imagines#yandere lilia#yandere lilia x reader#fem reader#male reader#gn reader
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Valeria - Angel Reyes x Reader
Tagging: @proceduralpassion @crazy4chickennuggets @callsignartemis @kmc1989 @witches-unruly-heart @keyweegirlie @annetje @infinity-mars @danzer8705 @im-just-a-mississippi-girl @appreciatelove @the-wandering-lunatic @weiwei0210 @anime-weeb-4-life @multifandomloversworld @harperdoodle @est1887 @prettyinpunk85 @thanossexual @briefpersonenemy @creativitybeware @librarian1002 @mortal--soul @buddinglinguist @spookyboogyuniverse @spaghettificationandpretzels @nu1freakshow @thebaileybugle @legally-a-bastard @bonsaijoons @sclitvdes @justreblogginfics @irishavengersassemble @keyweegirlie
It’s late when Angel makes it home, later than he intended to be. The house is already lit up and the porch light is on, beckoning him inside. He loves coming home to this, knowing that there’s someone waiting for him, someone who cares about him, who wants to hear about his day. He shuts the front door behind him, bending down to untie the laces of his boots before he toes them off carefully and sets them alongside your smaller ones.
He's been thinking of asking you to move in with him. It’s been almost nine months and he’s more than ready, the only reason he hasn’t done it sooner is because you’re a little skittish. You’ve told him before that you’re always waiting for the other shoe to drop. He hopes that you see you don’t have to worry about that with him. That he’s steady, that he wants a place in your life and he’s here to stay.
“Hey baby, sorry I’m late.” he hollers as he treads through the hallway towards the kitchen. He knows you’re probably in there, sitting at the table running through your list of things to do. “We were talking about the food drive this weekend, Bish was worried we wouldn’t have enough bodies…”
He trails off, his hand coming to rest on the door frame as he surveys the sight in front of him.
“I found this on the doorstep.” You tell him, tipping your head towards the car seat and the diaper bag sitting on the kitchen table. “Along with those.”
You’re holding a baby.
She’s tiny, not more than a few weeks old, wrapped up in a white fleece blanket with yellow ducks embroidered into it. There’s a tuft of dark hair sticking out of her head, something that he recognises from his own baby pictures. His heart fucking breaks because he knows, he just knows that this is his baby.
“There’s a note.” You say, swaying from side to side gently as the infant begins to gripe. You hush her and she begins to sooth as you continue with the motion.
He edges towards the table, his fingers picking up the envelop that’s already been torn open. He doesn’t begrudge you that, he would have done the same thing. There’s a letter and a birth certificate tucked inside. He takes them both and smooths them upon the surface of the table along side each other. He studies the birth certificate first.
Her name is Valeria and she’s three weeks old.
His fingertip trails down the paper until he reaches the line where both of the parents are listed. He sees his name scrawled by a registrar along side the word ‘Father’. He puts both of his hands on the back of his head as he breathes the word ‘fuck’.
“Don’t swear in front of the baby.” You murmur, your voice a low, even tone.
“Sorry.” He finds himself saying.
This is so fucking surreal; he can’t wrap his head around it. His gaze strays to the ‘Mother’ column and he sees the name Skylar Rixton listed. Who the fuck…
And then he remembers.
Sky.
The bike bunny he’d fucked a couple of weeks before he met you. She’d been tending bar for a few weeks, a friend of Jess’s. Things had gotten a little wild that night in the Clubhouse, he’d been knocking back tequila trying to drown out the self-loathing that was gnawing at his insides and she’d put herself directly in his path. He’s woken up the next morning with a scratched up back and Sky trying to tempt an encore out of him. He’d stopped it in it’s tracks because he could already see that she was getting attached and Angel didn’t do strings.
She’d taken off a couple of months later after he’d started seeing you.
He read the letter next, and it confirms his suspicions. She’d discovered she was pregnant not long after he’d met you. Decided to raise the kid on her own, then discovered it wasn’t as easy as she thought.
She’s your problem now, the letter said.
“I didn’t know.” He tells you as he raises from his seat at the table.
“It doesn’t matter.” You say, your head tilted away from him.
Your hair falls across your features so he can’t see the expression on your face. He realises that this is the other shoe, that the very thing he promised not to do to you is happening right now and he is powerless to stop it.
“Angel, you need to take you daughter.” You tell him.
Your voice is soft, but he can still hear the hurt in it. It feels like he’s being stabbed in the chest because the last thing he ever wanted was for you to become a casualty of his recklessness.
You’re careful as you hand him the baby. He reacts instinctively, shifting the weight of the tiny infant until she sits comfortably in his arms, her fists flailing just a little.
“You’re alright.” He tells her, his voice kind as he starts to sway. “I’ve got you.”
He doesn’t realise you’ve left until he hears the front door closing behind you. He doesn’t remember you saying anything, only the absence of your presence as he finds himself standing alone in his kitchen with his daughter cradled in his arms. He swallows hard past the ache in his chest, his eyes stinging because he knows he fucked up.
This may be the beginning for him and Valeria but it’s the end of him and you.
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Like My Work? - Why Not Buy Me A Coffee
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“Kisses and Cookie”
Request by @anonymous
Hellooo!! Your writing is really lovely, i was just wondering if you could write lesso comforting her gf who is having... that time of the month, yknow?? Its ok if you dont want to!! Just know that your writing is making a lot of people happy, keep up the amazing work!!
my obsession with alliteration really shines through in this one eh |･ω･)
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Chocolate and cuddles are certainly the cure to cramps that come in crippling currents, although there are several instances of the stellar combination failing to live up to its name. Beyond levelling off the pain, even when they do offer a distraction to take your mind of the awful sensation, chasing it completely away usually transcends their capability.
During such times when you feel as if a hurricane is wreaking havoc on your insides, your saving grace comes in the form of a palm on your pelvis. The owner of which is your wicked lover with a heart so big, and her love for you that seems to know no bounds. She always wears an air of indifference around her as it is her brand, but for you, she always makes an exception.
You are each other’s haven. The condescending cheekiness that is glued onto her face for the better part of the day is replaced by a bright beautiful smile that reflects in her star-kissed eyes, the spine that is kept ramrod-straight from dusk to dawn dissolves into a puddle of touch-starved goo as soon as her tall frame is engulfed in your arms. With her armour stripped bare, she is not Lady Lesso but simply your Leo.
Dressed in nothing but her button down and your underwear, you have, as you always do, welcomed your lover home with a kiss on her lips.
“Thievery is not tolerated in this household, little thief.”
She has murmured, a whisper of a smirk felt on your pulse point as tiny delicate kisses are peppered across your neck and collarbone.
You have only hummed, arms locked around her back, and face silently nuzzling the nook of her neck. When no retorts are returned as expected of her little minx, a palm has cupped your cheek, tilting it back a touch for concerned eyes to examine you.
“You look positively unwell, darling. What’s wrong?”
Pouty-lipped and puppy-eyed, you have told her how ruthless your cramps for this month have been, for even chocolate and cuddles with cookie, a chubby ball of clouds the colour of milk chocolate; a doggo daughter that you and Leo have been parenting together, cannot manage to fend off the pain.
One of your nightly rituals include lounging on the carpet in front of the roaring hearth. With an unruly head of fiery hair on one of your laps and a fluffy head of chocolate fur on the next, your little family of three will be found savouring the moment, simple in appearance but rich in essence.
Tonight as well is no exception, albeit having some adjustments made. Seated on the carpet between the couch and the hearth, you stay locked in your lover’s arms, hips cradled snugly in her thighs, and legs bracketed by hers, long, lean and delightfully toned. In the center of your legs nests chunky little Cookie, content, tongue out, and out like a light.
Even though chocolate and cuddles remain a constant craving during this time of the month, the ultimate cure to cramps is your lover who is not reluctant to shower you with affections. You are convinced at this point that her kisses hold healing properties. It feels as if all sensations of pain and discomfort are banished from your body as soon as soft lips collide with your flesh.
A candle kissed by the flame, you melt once a blossom of kiss is bestowed upon your nape. The sweet blossoms extend towards your shoulder blade, then circles back towards your neck where a butterfly rests upon your fluttering pulse.
Meanwhile, her hand is hidden underneath her shirt which is presently draped over your frame. One of the perks of having a witch as a wife is that you can do without a heating pad. One glow of her fingertip and her hand becomes the very thing. From beneath her palm, which is pressed against your pelvis, pulsate waves of warmness that bleed into your flesh. They feel delightfully pleasant, drowning out the pain until it is but an occasional tinge of discomfort.
“Is my darling girl feeling better?” You feel her query on the shell of your ear, the answer to which is delivered with a gentle press of your lips on her throat. “Mmhm, much.”
“There’s nothing my hands cannot remedy, it seems.”
Her voice, smooth as silver, soft as silk spills shivers down your spine. Still, you act innocent, head collapsing atop your lover’s shoulder to seek her eyes.
“Whatever do you mean? It’s quite obviously the therapeutic effect of watching a sleeping baby.” You glance over at Cookie who at the moment has her thick little limbs facing skyward, her chubby little belly exposed.
“Seeing as my little vixen is back, you really must be feeling better.”
Your wife smiles in that naughty fox-like way, drops it gently atop the tip of your nose, and when soft caresses of her lips turns into playful nibbles, you cannot help but giggle at her antics.
The jostling of your bodies stirs Cookie from her slumber. Your baby, always a ball of bubbling excitement, immediately climbs up your body on her chubby little paws, joining her Mama in bombarding your face with dewy kisses. As if sucked into a vortex, the pain and discomfort vanish, and if they don’t, you can no longer register their presence under the belly-butterfly inducing assaults of your two beloveds.
In the end, the three of you dissolve into a cuddle pile. The two fluffy heads are the first to be tired to sleep, Leo in your arms and Cookie sandwiched snugly between the two of your bodies. You do not know if it is even possible for two entirely different species to look so alike, but they do, charmingly so, and as if to prove your point, both of them start scratching their noses in unison, your wife with her finger and your baby with her little paw. Brimming to bursting with love, you barely contain the urge to squeeze them in your arms, opting instead for dropping a lingering kiss atop each of their velveteen cheeks.
They say that the universe is so unbelievably vast. It may be so for the rest, but personally, you beg to differ. Your universe is but an armful, warm, fluffy, and positively the cure to all.
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here is the floof baby. a newfoundland puppy but when they’re fully grown boy oh boy they literally become a bear 🐻
#lady lesso x reader#lady leonora lesso x reader#leonora lesso x reader#lady lesso#lady leonora lesso#leonora lesso#charlize theron x reader#charlize theron#character x reader#fanfic#the school for good and evil#school for good and evil#sge#sge netflix#sge movie#fluffy#couple cuddling#cute and cuddly#cuddles#puppy baby
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Yearly Festivities
It’s been a while. Merry Christmas 🎅.
WC: 550
Warnings: Fluffy Rafi and Christmas.
Enjoy x
The room was filled with tension, his green eyes fixed on you as you fluttered around the room being social. You were surprised that he showed up, going against the squad twice in just a few months, there was an elephant in the room. But with you, it was a different kind of tension, but it was a case of who would crack first. You had sat and listened to Sonny talk about how he felt about going up against him and then you also heard Liv’s opinion, but you stayed on neutral ground.
You were excited he was here, the butterflies flying around in your tummy. You missed the sparkle in his eye, the sneaky winks he would give you when no one was watching, the smell of his fading cologne as he walked past after a long day and his three-piece suites in colours you absolutely loved. But what you fell in love with that added to the list of things you loved about him, was the salt and pepper hair that was sitting on his face and framed his lips, that were to you, so perfect.
You were chatting away with Amanda and another uniform that had just worked on an undercover with you all, when your eyes darted up and they met with Rafael’s. He gave you a side smirk and a small wink, your cheeks blushing instantly. You excused yourself from the girls and walked towards where he was standing, your eyes fixed on each other till you were a fingertip away,
“Didn’t think you were going to talk to me tonight detective” He smirked again and took a sip of his drink and you scoffed back playfully.
“When have I ever not made the effort to talk to my favourite ADA of all time”
Rafael let out a little chuckle and closed the very small space between you both.
“You look beautiful tonight Y/N, I haven’t been able to take my eyes off you”
Your eyes locked with his and you let your hand rise up to rest on his hairy face, allowing your thumb to run along his bottom lip,
“Rafael- “
Before you had a chance to finished you sentence, Rafael’s hand rested on your hip and slid around to your lower back. You felt his hand press into you and he pulled you into his body, his body heat hitting your skin through your dress,
“May I?” he whispered and then you watched his eye sight move up to the roof “It’s kind of a tradition”
You nodded, grinning, and bitting your bottom lip at the same time. The spark in your tummy that hit you when his lips met yours almost took your breath away. His lips were soft and his facial hair was smooth against your face. Your hand that was on his face slid down and rested on his neck. You felt so safe and comfortable with him, and you fell in love with him a little more when he didn’t deepen the kiss, that your body just melted into him. Rafael finally broke that very long kiss, looking down at you with blushed cheeks before he rested his forehead on yours,
“Shall you get out of here?” you said shyly.
“I’ll go get a cab.”
Tags: @detective-giggles @beccabarba @witches-unruly-heart @dianilaws @scarletsoldierrr @lv7867 @permanentlydizzy @averyhotchner @infiniteoddball @fandom-princess-forevermore @madamsnape921 @annabelleb49 @alwaysachorusgirl @thatesqcrush @gillysoldlady @jemmakates
#rafael barba fanfiction#rafael barba fic#ada rafael barba#rafael barba#rafael barba x reader#rafael barba x yn#rafael barba x you#svu x reader#SVU fanfiction#SVU FANDOM
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Don't Blame Me Masterlist
*
Joe Velasco x reader. Slight AU version where he's definitely not a cop.
Warnings: language, alcohol consumption, smut, mentions of drugs, likely drug consumption, eventual hurt/comfort or a bit of angst. All chapters will be tagged accordingly.
Summary: You meet a stranger at a bar and it doesn’t take very long before you’re completely head over heels for him. Not that it matters, Jose is completely smitten with you in a matter of hours, knowing that he doesn’t want to let you go. It’s a hot and heavy, fast moving, passionate summer romance that nearly feels like it’s taking place in its own little world secluded up in the Bronx. There’s a mystery, almost a sense of danger about Jose that enthralls you even more and it’s that mystery exactly that Joe’s unsure of revealing to you, not knowing whether you’re ready to dive off the deep end with him or not. Because after all, love makes you crazy and if it doesn’t you aren’t doing it right.
Is it named after the Swift song? Yes. Is it inspired by it? No. But it will include similar themes at points.
Series Playlist
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4**
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As per usual, if you would like to be added to/taken off the taglist, dm/send me an ask!
@witches-unruly-heart @fandom-princess-forevermore @cycat4077 @xoxabs88xox @alwaysachorusgirl @plaidbooks @thatesqcrush @im-just-a-mississippi-girl @wandas-wife @katieslotherford @momlifebehard @dondivajade @misscharlielulu @alexxavicry @rosaliedepp @legit9thlunaticwarrior @daffodil-heart @onmykneesformarvel @kmc1989 @silversprings-mp3 @escapingrealtiylovinginsanity @blackbird-brewster @baubeautyandthegeek
#joe velasco#joe velasco x reader#law and order svu#svu#law and order#law and order special victims unit#joe velasco series#joe velasco AU#Don't blame me
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