Lydia Willingham

Mercy nodded with an small smile, feeling certain about it. “I’m seven hundred and fifty years old. I’m older than most witch’s but you might be different,” she conceded. Some witch’s knew how to extend their life to unnaturally long lengths. Lydia didn’t seemed annoyed with her assumptions, putting the angel at ease as she shrugged. “I’m glad my guesses aren’t off,” The mistress already knew enough about her to be satisfied but Mercy decided to divulge some more information. “I’m a naturally gifted healer but I’m better suited to a battlefield than being a slave.” Maybe it wasn’t right to say what was better for her, given the position she was in but she didn’t want to play coy.

Lydia’s smile grew and she raised an eyebrow at her. “700 years. Wow. You have over 600 years on me, darling. That’s impressive.” The witch said to her. She truly was impressed. She knew that there were supernatural beings a lot older than her, but it’s always impressive to meet those creatures. “I am assuming that most people are more suited for other things than being a slave.” She commented with a shrug, taking a step closer to the other woman. she reached out and put her hand on Mercy’s cheek gently. “I wonder how many people you have healed in your lifetime. Are you as selfless as I assume? Caring about the wellbeing of other people but neglecting your own?” 

Hanna chuckled and nodded. “True. Very true. In a place where you can be yourself. Why not just present yourself and let your interest show. I admire that.” He said as he shook her hand. “Angel. You are correct. Even though as an angel, you can say that my parents were religious.” Hanna laughed. “And you are? Hopefully not just a cute face and.” He said as he looked her over. “What looks like is probably a nice ass.” 

“I am glad I have earned your admiration so far, darling.” Lydia said, her smirk still in place. She chuckled at his joke and nodded her head. “Yes indeed you could say that.” She agreed, her smirk turning into a genuine smile. “If you play your cards right you might get to see more than just my ass.” She commented. “I am a witch.” 

Hanna raised an eyebrow with a small smirk at the compliment. “Thank you. You’re very upfront. I admire that trait. And you look quite pleasing as well. Very beautiful.” He admitted right back. “Nice to meet you Lydia.” He held his hand out to her. “My name is Hanniel. You can call me Hanna.” 

“Why would I waste my time dancing around you, trying to figure out if you’d be interested if I can just walk up to you and ask you if you’re interested. It saves the both of us precious life time.” Lydia stated bluntly, winking at the man in front of her. “Hanniel. Interesting name. I am assuming an Angel? Either that or your parents are very religious.” She teased as she reached out to shake his hand.

“To try and feel like you’re not pint sized? I don’t think you need the heels to be intimidating though.” Even as an older brother, he had been on the bad end of a enough wrathful glares to make him intimated by his more powerful sister. “You know what, I’m not going to argue purely because I don’t want my ass kicked in public.” But he wasn’t going to agree either. He loved that no matter how much time passed, they were still the same. They were twins after all and that meant they were closer than most siblings. His nose scrunched up but he decided to just let it go and agree. “Alright, I guess we just have to be more open,” he said, feigning a shudder of disgust. “I’m not going to fight you for them so don’t worry. I don’t want them. Not that women aren’t great and all that, they’re just not my thing,” he laughed. It wasn’t like Lydia didn’t already know that. 

“Always making fun of my height.” She teased him with a chuckle. Their height difference was quite impressive and she knew Oscar liked to tease her about it, but she honestly didn’t mind. “I am glad we can both agree that I’d kick your ass if it came down to it.” She winked at him, taking a sip of her drink in satisfaction. “Hey. We tell each other everything this is just something to add to that list. We don’t have to go into details.” She said softly, putting an reassuring hand on his arm. Lydia chuckled at his words. “Oscar? Are you telling me you don’t enjoy the company of women? How scandalous.” She teased slightly. She never minded that her brother was into men. She has supported him from the beginning and she believed that love is love. She herself often sought out the company of the same sex, so it would be hypocritical of her to judge her brother for his desire towards men. 

@thornhavenstarters​

“One person’s fetish is another’s perks, I guess.” Pink panties, how cute. One of the guards had given her some new clothes as a good behavior ‘reward’, or whatever he wanted to call it. She’d almost be willing to bet that he was a little s w e e t on her. He gave her clothes not because she ‘deserved’ them, or to ‘reward’ her, but because he wanted to see her in them. She wouldn’t complain.

The sound of footsteps into the showers do little to get a reaction out of her. She doesn’t jump, nor flinch. Instead, she pulls a tank-top over her head and steps to the side to grab her clothes. “It’s all yours.” At least the water was warm at the shower she’d used.

Lydia didn’t really know why she chose to venture to the showers, but as soon as she saw the barely clothed woman in front of her, the witch thought it was a good idea. She leaned against the wall and tilted her head to look at the girl. “I hope you are talking about yourself and not the shower.” She replied with a smirk.

Now they were alone in her apartment, Mercy wasn’t sure what to expect. “Don’t worry, I’m likely very old fashioned. I’m very old in the human sense,” she said with a warm smile. To the eye, the woman didn’t look over thirty years but the supernatural were tricky that way, much like herself. Glancing back at her, she pointed to some of the items. “The herbs mostly give it away, unless you’re a big chef and you cook in the living room?” she asked. There were a few other trinkets she recognised but they could have just been decoration. 

Lydia chuckled before smiling at the other woman. “You’re probably older than me, are you?” She asked her with a light smirk on her face. Lydia laughed once more, crossing her arms over her chest. “You’re very perceptive. You’re right. I don’t cook in the living room. And I am a witch.” She confirmed with a nod and a smile. “Tell me something about yourself, Mercy.” 

She absently followed the mistress towards the kitchen, not entirely sure what she should be doing. Mercy had visited people’s homes before but never for what was intended this time. Taking the glass, she took a small sip. “Thank you.” It was the sweetest thing she had enjoyed since being in the city. “Your style shows,” she commented, turning to look back at the decor. “Are you a witch?” Mercy asked. From the bits and pieces, the angel could guess what species had taken her home. It was more comforting than a demon or a vampire at the very least.

Lydia gave her a soft smile and a nod. The other girl was shy and the witch kinda liked that. “It’s a little old fashioned I suppose....but I am a little older after all.” The mistress joked lightly with a chuckle. Lydia nodded her head at her question. “I am indeed. What gave me away, darling?” She asked with a raised eyebrow, stepping a little closer to the other woman.

the decision to make snappy remarks wasn’t completely conscious. and maybe somewhere deep in her subconscious, like the greater picture of an ice burg hiding beneath cold waters, she wanted to rile her. it appeared that lydia dodged all remarks without hesitation however. lydia’s lips were the devil at her neck, pulling her into her sins so easily. as the witch carried on, her breath became uneven. her nails dragged further up the woman’s back, not minding the red streaks traveling up lydia’s back. there came a point where myra was determined to hold out. it took more mental strength than her next action would let on. “lydia..” the word barely came out coherently. her hands now grabbed behind lydia’s thighs where her ass and thighs joined. she held firmly to stop the rocking of her hips. 

one hand slid between them, pushing at the others woman’s abdomen to ask her hips to lift. her hands continued to snake between their two pelvic regions. her fingertips found lydia’s sack of nerves, hard between to slick lips. “look at me.” she says in a husky breath. her fingers continue to manipulate the flesh at its possession. soon they are rubbing in quick circles, then switching to slow strokes, then back to quick circles. she wanted to be reminded of the mess she could make of this witch. 

Lydia could tell that the marks Myra left would be more than visible on her back in the morning. But she didn’t mind. In fact, she loved that there was gonna be a reminder of their night etched into her back. Her whole body shivered when the wolf said her name. God, she has missed the way her name sounded coming off her lips. It was pure bliss. The witch gave her a look of confusion when she stilled her hips. She was definitely enjoying it, and she sighed when she had to stop. 

“See the staring thing, I get. But the funny look on your face ought to be explained.” he said, though with a good for nothing smirk and a quick up and down movement of his eyebrows. Where he stood practically naked, only the thin towel covering his more precious body parts, Ramiel wasn’t feeling insecure at all. Rather the opposite. 

@thornhavenstarters​

Lydia simply smirked in return, not even a little sorry about staring at the male. He was handsome and she needed to inspect the goods. “Can you really blame me, darling? With abs like those there’s ought to be some staring. I am simply doing what needs to be done.” She told him, her voice as husky as it always was.

“that’s your problem, isn’t it?” her tone became lower, giving a smart response what sounded seductive. her fingers contact sent her nerves mad. an uncontrolled moan let out in response. her eyes closed to hide her eyes rolling. “i think your tongue could be used much more efficiently than what you’re using it for right now.” her eyes open enough to make eye contact with the witch. “no, it’s for the guard outside..” her eyes lustfully watch her long fingers disappear between wet lips. myra pushes herself up with one hand to greedily claim dominance over the other’s mouth with her own tongue. it’s sloppy and it’s wet. nails in lydia’s back are there to ensure she is pulled back down as myra leans back. her hips attempt to roll at the contact of lydia’s hips. 

“just going to stare at me all day?” myra speaks up. her head has rolled to the side so she can watch lydia comfortably. her knees push back against hands, trying to use the strength of her thighs to squeeze the woman’s sides. “you can get a better look when you actually do something about it.” a smirk toys at her lips. 

she decided to forget what awaited her outside of their small fantasy. s fantasy where they were back at lydia’s place, and completely ignorant to the war and responsibility of a young witch. myra smirks again. she feels silly having lydia stare down between her legs–knowing how wildly desperate the wet skin is making her look. 

Lydia leaned forward and placed a kiss on her stomach, right above her belly button. “I haven’t seen you in 40 years.....let me look at you.” She said softly, though there was a slight playfulness in her voice. “Yeah? And what would you want me to do about it?” The witch asked with a matching smirk as she teasingly ran her fingers through Myra’s already wet folds.

Oscar grinned, happy to have his sister back in town. As much as he had been trying not to admit it, he had missed her. “Only because you’re wearing heels. Don’t be jealous that I got all the height out of this arrangement,” he said, pointing between them. Even though they were getting older, the childish sibling behaviour wasn’t something that he ever grew out of. It was more fun to not think about the complicated stuff and just focus on the good company. Sitting on a stool, he tapped his fingers on the edge of the bar as he thought it over. “I guess things are about to get awkward then because we’re going to need to discuss our sex lives.” One was certainly more awkward than the other but he would prefer to just name some names without the potential issues. “At least we don’t have to worry about women?”

“Why do you think I am wearing heels, brother? People are less intimidated by short women, so I have to even out the playing field don’t you think?” Lydia joked with a chuckle as she pointed down to her heels. “You got the height and I got the looks. Seems fair.” She teased him, slapping his stomach playfully. 80 years old and still bickering and teasing each other like when they were children. She loved that some things simply didn’t change when it came to them. “It’s only awkward when we make it awkward. We both know that neither of us is particularly abstinent so we can talk about this, Oz. It’ll be fine.” She told him with a soft smile, placing a reassuring hand on his shoulder. Lydia chuckled at his words and shook his head. “Nah. Women are all mine brother.” 

myra watched as the woman dove into her body. saying there had not been women after lydia would be a lie. but to say she hadn’t pretended each was the witch, would be a difficult truth. now as dark hair brushed her skin, lydia could close her eyes without playing illusions on the back of her lids. her back arches enough to cause a raised bridge from her shoulder blades digging on one end of the bed, and her hips digging in on the other side. lydia’s tongue brushed over this bridge and brought the sweetest of feelings. 

hot breath on her lips brought about a smirk. her lips pursed to catch lydia’s lips in brief interlock. “well for starters..” her hands come up from her sides and begins to pull at lydia’s clothing, doing her best to remove them. 

her hands direct lydia’s hands to the last bit of clothing clinging to her hips. “i shouldn’t think i have to do all the work of taking my clothes off either.” a sharper smirk. with her hand over the witches, she leads her hand just beneath the lip of her panties. 

Lydia simply loved the way the wolf’s body was responding to her even after all of those years. How she missed her body beneath her, falling apart after and hours and hours of love making. She was like a drug after 40 years of being sober. It would be so easy to fall right back into her. Lydia knew that it would hurt when this moment was over and they had to go back to the harsh reality of the situation. It might even break her. 

at the feeling of finger tips pressing into her thighs, myra lifted each of her thighs until they were hilted at the tops of lydia’s hips. they squeezes tightly, causing the muscle to burn. her strength was absent in comparison to what it used to be. a heat mixed with a wetness between her legs was met with contact that let out a content hum from myra. her gaze remained down, watching the other woman. her hands cradle her jaws as lips leave sweet marks on the witch’s nose, temple, and cheek.

the dress itched at her smooth skin. she had often wondered how humans found comfort in their clothing. there were fabrics that draped over skin and bone so daintily, that one would feel like it wore nothing at all. those she favored.

another feeling. the feeling of the soft bed beneath her was foreign. it outdid the comfort of a cot–if one could call it that. and to her human body, it matched the soft earth of a green meadow beneath her feral being. lastly, the weight of another on top of her body, sending nerves wild with messages from her toes to the nerves in her brain. “wait, wait–” the words muddle out from beneath hot breath. her arms cross over her stomach as finger tips grab the ends of the dress already riding up to her stomach. they peel the dress from her slender frame and reveal her skin. a simple black bra and panties are left. and as she peels the remainder of the garment of her wrists, she is left completely exposed to the sunlight pouring into the bedroom.

covering her back is black ink. it starts at her lower back and depicts stories all the way up her length, ending around her shoulders. letters illegible to most intertwined with the ink. it was tradition in her pack to mark your skin with culture of their kind. more illegible words  hid beneath her upper arm. these were things that would be new to the witch’s eyes. though a bra covered most of it, a design ran between both breast and and branched out below each. after a moment of pause, she removes the bra, revealing the rest of the art that stained her skin. she slowly leans back on the bed until she’s flat, letting lydia take in a familiar body with unfamiliar markings. she was proud of them. though she could have been focused on the erect nipples reacting to the cool air. she didn’t care. she wanted to watch lydia’s pupils react to the new sight before her.

the black panties are becoming a mess. as her thighs remain open, draped over either of the woman’s thighs she feels a vulnerability that only makes the thin fabric become more slick and cling to her folds.

Lydia almost lost balance when the other woman started to sweetly kiss all over her face. How she has missed the tenderness of her touch. How she has missed the tenderness of any touch. It’s been all rough and fast since she arrived here.....hell, it’s been all rough and fast and meaningless since she left Myra. It felt never the same and she closed off her heart to anybody else. 

Lydia pulled back immediately when she told her to wait. She was ready to pull back completely, thinking that she realized that this was a mistake and wanted to stop. Though the witch relaxed when the other woman simply needed the break to take off her clothes. Lydia’s breath hitched in her throat when she saw the exposed skin of her lover. Blank ink covering the majority of it. It was new to the witch, but she loved it. She wanted to run her tongue over every inch of the inked skin. So that’s what she did. She leaned down and started to trace the patterns with her tongue, taking her sweet time with the markings, teasing Myra.