#so i cant let those two down i suppose | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

freeabortionslol · 18 days ago

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being best friends with the hughes and jack having always been in love with her and everyone knows but her. they finally get together and when jack tell everyone’s no one’s believes him and thinks he joking

okay...so i may have done like way too much plot for this but I honestly cant help myself. i also don't know if this was a request for a fic or a text but I wrote a fic (oops drop it in my inbox if you wanted it as a text and I'll do it)

it's nice to have a friend(jack hughes x bsf!reader)

summary: fluff! pining (from jack ofc), bsfs to lovers, luke being an absolute child, basically jack picking you up on a rescue misson

warnings!! cursing, kissing

wc: 3k

“Y/n L/n drunk and crying on the curb. You’re in your element.” Jack smiled at you out the passenger window from the driver's seat. You had been out with your friends for a girls night. It was supposed to be fun and you were supposed to let loose, but instead you found yourself chasing your wasted friends around all night. You were too busy making sure they wouldn’t do anything stupid to have any fun of your own. When you went to the bar to get a drink you turned around and they were gone. They left you by yourself in the city in the middle of the night, and being scared to ride in an Uber alone, you decided to call your best friend, Jack.

“I’m not drunk, asshole. I’m barely even tipsy.” You got up to stand, walking towards the car door, hopping in with one swift motion. You climbed into the seat, slamming the door behind you, and crossing your arms. Jack’s gaze lingered over you for a moment watching your misery which he hated more than anything. He graced you with an empathetic half smile before turning his hazards off and driving the car back onto the road.

He sighed deeply, turning the radio down slightly “What happened?” he asked softly.

“Maria and Chloe left me in the bar alone. Some creep was all over me at the bar and I guess they assumed I was good with him.” You sniffled out, wiping your eyes with the back of your hand. “I spent the whole night chasing them around.” Jack placed a hand on your shoulder, rubbing it comfortingly. “I just wanted one night of my own to let loose and have fun.” You flailed your arms in the air letting tears escape your eyes.

“Hey, the night is still young.” You turned your head to look over at him, noticing how perfect his jawline looked through the street lights. “We can still have fun. Luke’s staying with Quinn in Vancouver. We'll hang out just the two of us like old times.” Jack’s words settled in, and you couldn’t help the small smile tugging at your lips. Despite the situation, he always knew how to lift your spirits.

You glanced over to him, letting out a deep breath. “Yeah? Sure you’re up for it? It’s already almost one.”

Jack scoffed playfully and squeezed your shoulder. “Of course I am. You’re my favorite person and we can’t have you sad on a Saturday evening.”

The drive back to the apartment was silent for the most part. You watched out the window, the familiar streets making you feel more at ease. You and Jack walked through the apartment complex in silence, watching as he fiddled for his keys in his pocket. You stepped through the door, letting the scent of the cinnamon candle fill your nose. You felt almost immediately at ease as you flopped onto Jack’s bed, letting his soft duvet entrap your body.

“Get out of my bed.” Jack laughed, pulling you up by your arm.

“Why? I’m so tired.” You pouted, giving him puppy eyes.

“You know the rule, no outside clothes in my bed. No makeup either, you’ll get it on the white sheets.” Jack smiled as he walked over to his dresser, pulling out a devils t-shirt and a pair of boxers for you to wear.

“Nuh uh. Your dick has been in those.” You crossed your arms, glaring at Jack who had the clothes in hand.

“They’ve been washed. Don’t get your panties in a twist.” He threw them over to you.

“Correction, don’t get these Jack Hughes gray Calvin Klein boxers in a twist.” You said, making your way towards the bathroom. You slipped your sweaty black dress off your body, stealing some of Jack’s deodorant before pulling the shirt over your head. You took a moment to stare at yourself in the mirror, analyzing everything that had gone wrong tonight. You felt a small sense of betrayal from your friends as sadness crept up on you. You wondered what kind of friend would leave you alone in a bar with some random man in the middle of the night with no ride home. Jack would never do that, no he would’ve never let the guy get within two feet of you. Suddenly relief washed over you, realizing that you were safe at Jack’s house and not sleeping on the floor of Chloe’s apartment. He wanted nothing more than to make you comfortable, though you couldn’t tell why. You pulled the boxers up and began carefully wiping your makeup off with the neutrogena makeup wipes that Jack kept at his place for you. You started to glance around the bathroom noticing that he kept a lot of things here for you. You always knew they were there because you used them, but you never really took attention to the gesture. You looked down at the sink seeing your pink toothbrush, whitening strips, cerave face wash, and your expensive mouthwash he knows you like. You turned your head to the back of the toilet where Jack had put various feminine products in glass containers. You glanced at the shelves in the shower at your shampoo, conditioner, sugar scrub, shaving cream, and your razor. That’s a lot of things that cost a good bit of money. You thought to yourself, this place screams “I have a girlfriend” do girls not notice these when they come over? Come to think of it, Jack’s never really mentioned girls around you. You knew he had them of course from Luke and Quinn, but you never bothered to ask him thinking it may cross a line. You however, spent endless hours talking his ear off about your male conquests. Guys from work, home, bars, hinge, you name him and Jack’s heard about him.

“You good in there?” Jack knocked on the door.

“Y-yeah i’m alright just finishing taking off my makeup.” You replied, his voice breaking your trance.

“Just making sure you didn’t pass out.” You couldn’t see him, but you could sense his sly smile through his voice.

“I’m not drunk, Jack!” You shouted, kicking the door which resulted in several giggles from him. You wiped the final streak of eyeliner off your face and made your way out of the bathroom. You immediately caught sight of Jack lounging on the bed in his sweatsuit, computer in his lap. He looked up from the screen to subtly stare at you in his clothes. His eyes softening at the sight of you, his shirt fit comically large around your frame, but it was perfect to him in some way.

“Gonna keep staring at me like some fuckin’ weirdo?” You raised your eyebrows at him.

He scoffed, “Sit down, pretty girl.” He scooched over so you could lay beside him, your shoulders brushing against each other as you took your spot.

“No, pretty girl left a few seconds ago when I took off my makeup.” You turned your face slightly to look at him. A smile was already growing across his face.

“Impossible. There’s one looking at me right now.” The two of you held your gaze for a few moments, neither of you sure what to do next. Your heart began to pound as you thought of the possibility of him kissing you. You quickly turned your face towards the laptop screen.

“So what are we watching?” You cleared your throat, your head finding its place to rest on his shoulder.

“Not one of those stupid romcoms you like.” You smacked his shoulder playfully and scoffed.

“You love those movies!”

“Wrong. I liked Ten Things I Hate About You.”

“So, that's the pick?” Jack groaned, throwing his head back.

“Fine! But no crying.” He started typing the movie into the search engine, clearly pretending to grumble about it. You settled against him, head on his shoulder, letting yourself sink into his skin as the movie started. His arm wrapped around you, pulling you closer, and you tried to distract yourself from the way his thumb absentmindedly traced patterns along your arm. You could feel him stealing glances of you as the movie went on, his head shifting slightly. You felt the warmth of his gaze and couldn’t help to sneak a few back, each one resulting in a smirk or a soft laugh from him. It was enough to make your heart race. As the poem scene began playing, you couldn’t help but let tears fall. You shifted to wipe your eyes, feeling silly but not caring.

Jack chuckled, pulling you in closer, his voice low and teasing “I thought we agreed no crying.”

“Shut up.” You mumbled, hiding your face in his shoulder. “I’ve seen it so many times, but it just gets me y’know?”

He rested his chin on your head, giving you a gentle squeeze. Your heart thudded as he pulled back slightly to look down at you, his face closer than ever, his blue eyes scanning your expression trying to read your thoughts. You felt a rush of courage and held his gaze, feeling the redness rise to your cheeks. Finally, Jack spoke, his voice barely above a whisper.

“Y’know you don’t need makeup for me. You’re perfect the way you are.” You blinked, catching your breath as his words sunk in. He brushed a strand of hair from your face and before you could think twice, you found yourself leaning in to close the gap between the two of you. Maybe it was the confidence of the alcohol, but that had almost entirely worn off. Jack’s eyes flickered with something unspoken as he met you halfway, his lips pressing softly to yours for a lingering kiss. The two of you held the kiss for a moment, his teeth subtly biting your bottom lip gently. His hand moved to cup the back of your head, as yours moved to his arm. The kiss intensified in an instant, releasing every amount of tension that kept it hidden for so long. You both pulled back, foreheads resting against each other, each of you breathless. He stole one last kiss, before pulling away entirely, smiles growing slowly as the realization hit.

“I love you.” He cooed out, his hand still resting on the back of your head. You let out a soft laugh, moving to rest your forehead in the crook of his neck, wrapping your arms around his body.

“I love you too, Jacky.” He quickly moved his hands to wrap around your waist, pulling you in closer to his body, letting the scent of your perfume entrap him. Your legs were tangled, letting yourself drift off to sleep as the tv played softly in the background, neither of you watching any longer. Jack waited until you were asleep before moving you over, so he could spoon you letting himself breathe. He pulled his phone from the nightstand with his freehand to text his brothers about tonight's victory.

Jack: Guys I did it. She’s mine. Told her I loved her.

Luke: Who?

Jack: Y/n

Quinn: HAHA no way

Jack: Yes way

Luke: No. Number one you're too much of a little bitch to ever tell her, two she would never ACTUALLY go for you.

Quinn: As much as I want you to go for it, you never would

Jack: I DID I SWEAR

Luke: Yeah okay pal cya tomorrow

The night was peaceful, you and Jack were wrapped in each other throughout your sleep. The morning light was harsh on your eyes which Jack took notice of, and got up from the bed to close the blinds. You subtly shifted your body onto the pillow at the sense of Jack’s absence. He chuckled softly and moved his way to the kitchen to start preparing breakfast. Luke was coming home today with Quinn alongside him. He didn’t expect to have you over last night, but my goodness was he happy about it. Jack began mixing batter in a bowl for the pancakes, letting his mind drag him to the memory of you sound asleep next to him in his bed. He wanted every night to be that way. He glanced over to his door hoping that maybe you would stumble out of his room, but he knew you were tired from the night before. He was in the middle of flipping a pancake when he heard the front door open, followed by the familiar voices of his brothers.

“Guess who's back!” Luke shouted, walking into the apartment, throwing his bag on the couch. “Ooh! Pancakes!” Luke ran to the kitchen trying to get in Jack’s way, to which he responded by pulling the plate of finished pancakes out of Luke’s grasp.

“Uh uh! Go wash your hands first.” Luke groaned and made his way to the closest bathroom, which was Jack’s.

“You’re such a mom.” Quinn remarked, taking a seat at a barstool. “Funny joke last night, but seriously you need to tell Y/n how you feel. Even if she doesn’t feel the same, it’ll at least stop you from following her around like a lovesick puppy.” Jack slammed the stack of pancakes on the counter, pulling out four plates instead of three which Quinn didn’t take notice of.

“I’m not joking. I actually did it.” Jack scoffed.

“Uh huh sure, and I quit my job last night.” Quinn laughed out as Jack sent him a middle finger. The scene was quickly interrupted by Luke storming out of Jack’s room, running towards the kitchen. “Woah, Luke. Slow down.” Luke was panting, hands on his knees trying to catch his breath from the run he just took.

“There's…A…” He took deep breaths before every word.

“There’s a what?” Quinn questioned, pulling a pancake from the pile onto his plate.

“There’s a girl in Jack’s bed.” He panted out. Quinn’s eyes widened, immediately shifting his gaze to Jack who was smirking.

“So mr I confessed my love to Y/n last night has a girl in his bed?” Jack threw his head down at the stupidity of his brother. “Knew you were lyin”

“WHO DO YOU THINK THE GIRL IS?” Jack yelled, a wide smile across his face. Luke’s mouth dropped immediately, forgetting about the pancakes he ran back to Jack’s room, Quinn following close behind. Luke didn’t think twice before jumping on the bed throwing his body over yours. You awakened in an instant, you rubbed your eyes and looked up to Luke who was wearing a sly smile.

“Gross Luke. How much axe body spray did you put on?” You groaned out, your eyes still not fully opened.

“No! Gross Y/n. You kissed our brother!” Quinn stated as he moved his way onto the bed, lying down next to you, propping himself up on his elbows. You squinted your eyes, trying to find the strength to keep them open.

“She’s in his bed, they definitely did more than kissing.” Luke laughed out and you sent him a hit to the shoulder.

“Get off me you asshole!” You pushed Luke off, climbing your way out of the bed and towards Jack's dresser.

“After all this time I can’t believe he actually did it.” Quinn let out with a chuckle as you pulled one of Jack’s hoodies from the drawer.

“What are you talking about?” You said pulling the hoodie over your head.

“Dude, Jack’s been in love with you since like seventh grade.” Luke shifted his position to the edge of the bed as you turned to face him.

“Are you serious?” You squinted your eyes, crossing your arms.

“Are you kidding? You never knew? He made it so painfully obvious.” Quinn chuckled, throwing his head back slightly. You stood there still processing what Quinn said, your heart pounding at the revelation. Jack had been in love with you since seventh grade? How did you miss that? All those little gestures, every time he was always there when you needed him, the way he’d listened to you talk about every guy you dated, even if you could sense his slight discomfort. It all made sense now.

Luke, still lounging on the bed, watched your reaction with a mischievous grin, “So do you like him back, or was last night just some…experimental sleepover?”

“Luke, stop. It’s- complicated.” You turned your head trying to hide your blush, knowing damn well that it wasn’t complicated. You just didn’t want to have this conversation with Jack’s teasing brothers who just so happened to be your best friends.

“Complicated?! He literall-” Luke started but was cut off by Jack walking in the room looking mildly confused and a bit exasperated.

“Hey hey! Let’s not harass Y/n right when she wakes up.”

Quinn laughed and stood up, clapping Jack on the back. “Look, lover boy, we're just helping her process the last decade of weird repressed feelings the two of you have. She had no idea how obvious you were being.”

Jack turned pink, giving you an embarrassed smile as he rubbed the back of his neck. “I wasn’t that obvious.” he mumbled, but you could see a hint of vulnerability in his eyes.

You stepped forward, reaching for his hand. “Actually you might have been, and I…I might’ve been really bad at picking up the hints.” You laughed softly, squeezing his hand, feeling the warmth of his palm on yours.

“Finally!” Quinn groaned out, Luke flopping himself back into the bed.

“Now we don’t have to watch you guys be grossly oblivious to each other anymore.”

Jack rolled his eyes slightly, keeping his gaze on you, a gentle smile on his face. “You wanna go for this?”

“Absolutely.” You nodded, heart pounding with happiness. Jack pulled you into his arms, planting a soft kiss to your forehead.

“Good. Because I wasn’t planning on letting go anytime soon.”

Luke groaned loudly from the bed, interrupting the moment. “You guys are disgusting. Breakfast is getting cold.” You and Jack let out a subtle laugh before walking to the kitchen, hand in hand.

#freeabortionslol #jh86 #jack hughes #jack hughes x reader #nhl imagine #nhl players #imagine #fanfic

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world-of-aus · 5 months ago

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The Arrangement - Prologue

Pairing: Mobboss!Bucky x Reader

Chapter Warnings: None.

Authors Note: Any and all writing errors are my own. Am I going to attempt a mobboss, arranged marriage series? Yes. Will I give this series my all? Also yes! I hope yall enjoy this prologue, more to come soon 🤍

Your sister called off the wedding. Come home now.

“Mother please sit down,” you plead, watching her pace the carpet in your fathers office, “you’re going to worry yourself sick, surely she just caught a case of cold feet its going to be alright, she’ll come around you'll see, she’s done this before – she knows how important this union is for both our families.”

Your mother stops in her stride head snapping to you her eyes turned to slits, desperation hidden behind the anger in her eyes. “Your sister went to Winnifred Barnes herself this morning, told her she could no longer marry her son didn’t even give a valid reason as to why, no actual explanation and then what does she do? She up and leaves town, hasn’t answered a single call or text from me or your father even her ex-fiancé cant get a ahold of her. And what’s worse is we didn’t even find out from her, this information came from Winnifred and let me just say – she wasn’t pleased this isn’t just a case of cold feet.”

Trying to be the voice of reason you go to reassure your mother, “this a big event in her life mother, she’s to be handed off in less than a week for a merger that’s been written in the stars for years now between two families ours and the Barnes. You must give her some grace, she’s overwhelmed, she’s probably scared, her life is going to change drastically in less than a weeks a time. She knew – no she knows how important this merger is for both families, she wouldn’t do this she loves him.”

“But she did sweetheart,” your father speaks up a weak and tired smile on his lips, “and as much as you want to come to her aide, there is no defending your sisters actions. We’re even lucky that Winnifred has agreed to give us a chance to right her wrongs.”

“That’s great, we can buy ourselves time! I’ll change her mind, make her come home.”

Your father shakes his head, “we’re out of time sweetheart.”

“No, just give me a chance to talk to her, talk her off the ledge, I’ll even reach out to Winnie.”

Your dads shaking his head again, your mothers pacing stopped as she moves over to you, “there is no more time sweetheart,” your mother murmurs as she takes the seat next to you, her hands reaching for yours, “they no longer see your sister as an option for this marriage.”

You suck in a breath, “but that means –“ your fathers expression is enough to confirm your suspicion.

“You’re to be married to James Barnes in a weeks time.”

You forget how to breath, “No. No. We can – I can.”

“I’m sorry sweetheart.”

Those words are the nail in the coffin, neither your mom or your dad stopping you as you bolt from the room. As you race down the hallway you rip your phone from the confines of your coat getting your sisters contact open.

“Tell me where you are, I can come to you – we can fix this.”

“I can’t do this. I love you all so much, but I just can’t. I’m sorry, please understand.”

“I know you’re scared, but you won’t be alone I promise, please just tell me where you are lets talk about this.”

Free MSG: Unable to send message—message blocking active.

“No. No. No.” You breathe pressing the call icon bringing the phone up to your ear. Your curse when you’re automatically forwarded to her inbox .

“Please don’t do this, they want me to marry him, I cant do that to you, to him, please!”

Free MSG: Unable to send message—message blocking active.

No. No. No.

This couldn’t be happening, this wasn’t part of the plan, this wasn’t part of the plan.

It was supposed to be her, not you.

He wanted her, not you.

#bucky x reader #bucky barnes x reader #bucky x you #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes fanfic #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky barnes au #mobboss!bucky

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manias-wordcount · 1 year ago

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um !! so ive totally been using ur page as my nightly routine teehee and like. sorry in advance if ur requests r clsoed , im new to tumblr so i seriously have no idea how to check😭😭

but i was thinking ;; could you please write a smut for totk link and fem reader ? in whichhh u both hide in a closet together in like the castle or smth.. and to calm u down he like lets u ride him HAJHAH

so embarrassed, but imagining the shakey breaths and sounds of his armour clanking against the wall as he thrusts upwar ds .....

i know im a slut but im only a girl !! i cant help it..!

- r 🍒

Hero's Duty (BOTW Link x Reader)

𝗔/𝗡: 𝗵𝗲𝗿𝗲 𝘆𝗼𝘂 𝗴𝗼!

𝗪𝗔𝗥𝗡𝗜𝗡𝗚: 𝗿𝗶𝗱𝗶𝗻𝗴, 𝘃𝗮𝗴𝗶𝗻𝗮𝗹 𝘀𝗲𝘅, 𝗹𝗶𝗻𝗸 𝗹𝗼𝘀𝗶𝗻𝗴 𝗰𝗼𝗺𝗽𝗼𝘀𝘂𝗿𝗲 𝗼𝘃𝗲𝗿 𝘀𝗼𝗺𝗲 𝗽𝘂𝘀𝘀𝘆 𝗟𝗠𝗔𝗢

𝙒𝙖𝙣𝙩 𝙩𝙤 ��𝙚𝙖𝙙 𝙢𝙤𝙧𝙚? ⇒ 𝙈𝙖𝙨𝙩𝙚𝙧𝙡𝙞𝙨𝙩

𝙟𝙤𝙞𝙣 𝙢𝙮 𝙙𝙞𝙨𝙘𝙤𝙧𝙙 𝙨𝙚𝙧𝙫𝙚𝙧?

𝙗𝙪𝙮 𝙢𝙚 𝙖 𝙘𝙤𝙛𝙛𝙚𝙚?

He shouldn’t be doing this. He shouldn’t be giving in like this. He should be stronger than this. He shouldn’t be thinking like this. He shouldn’t be wanting this. He shouldn’t. He shouldn’t. He shouldn’t.

But fate is a cruel mistress. And he can’t stand it when you squeeze your thighs together and look at him like he’s the only thing you’ll ever need. He can’t stand it.

Still, He’s supposed to be a knight. He’s supposed to be a hero. Disciplined and proper. Courageous and strong. Polite. Gallant. Respect. Dignified. Honorable. He’s supposed to be all those things. And he is! He swears, deep down inside he is. He knows he is. Everyone knows he is. He’s been congratulated by the king directly before. Called upon by him to take up arms and join the fight. And He serves Princess. He serves the people. He serves the kingdom. Hell, he’s even wearing some of his royal armor right now. He’s supposed to be a knight. He’s supposed to be a hero. He’s supposed to be protecting you right now.

Not lifting up your dress and gripping your hips as he bounces your needy little hole down onto his cock over and over and over and over again.

It’s not what he should be doing. He has a mission. He has orders. He has a task to complete. Duty to fulfill. People to protect. People who need him. But your pussy feels so tight and so warm and so wet around his cock it’s amazing how he managed to last this long. But now that he started, he knows he can’t stop. He won’t stop. Not until he’s finished. Not until you’re both finished.

“ Ah….um, Link- Ah~”

However long it takes.

“You like that, princess?” He murmurs lowly, blue eyes narrowing in on your face as your eyes cross and your mouth falls open into a lewd expression. You don’t respond- at least, you don’t respond with words to his question. But at this point, he’s not even sure if you would have been able to hear him over the sounds of your cute little whimpers and moans as he thursts his hips into you. Or maybe it’s the dirty sounds of your soaking wet little cunt taking in every single inch of his dick that keeps you from hearing the sound of your lover’s voice. He doesn’t know for certain, but the selfish, selfish part of him likes to think it’s a combination of the two. And the rational part of him? “You’re taking me so well pretty girl. So well. ”

The rational part of him knows it’s a little bit of both. Plus the fact that you always manage to get a little dick drunk when someone fucks you good and proper. And luckily for you, Link’s happy to play knight in shining armor to his needy little princess and her perfectly tight little holes -

Fuck, you bring out the worst in him. But you know that don’t you? He swears it. He swears you do. He swears you have to . Goddesses, he doesn’t even remember what he’s supposed to be doing right now. He knows it was supposed to be something important. Something only he could do. But then you started getting anxious. After every battle, after every fight- you still manage to worry about him. You still manage to fear that your powers and your efforts as his support won’t be good enough.

It’s cute how you worry. It’s cute how you care. But he had a job to do. And he needed you in good shape to do it. But no matter how hard he tried, he couldn’t quell your nerves. Your silent shaking. Your quiet whimpers. And worst of all? Every promise that he’ll protect was starting to fall flat in your ears. Every comforting touch didn’t seem like it worked. Didn’t seem like it was enough . But he had a job to do. A job that included your safekeeping and your safe return. So he did what any good knight would do.

He pulled you into the nearest closet he could find and got you nice and relaxed on his fingers before stuffing you nice and full with his cock.

Now your moans bounce off the walls like hymns in a church. Now his name falls off of your lips like deities in a prayer. Now you can be protected. Nurtured. Cared for. All by him. All for you.

And maybe there were better ways of taking care of you and your fears. Maybe an orgasm and a good dicking down isn’t exactly what you need in this moment. But your precious little pussy is taking his cock so effortlessly that he’s starting to feel less of a knight and more like a man. A man who can’t help but have wants. A man who can’t help but feel lust. A man who can’t help but need to fuck a pretty girl when he’s not supposed to and make excuses about it.

And he’ll do it again the next chance he gets. He’ll do it all over again.

“ Mmm, Link I’m…I’m close…”

Your whimper is quiet, but within the four walls of this closet, it could be the loudest thing in the world right now. Louder than the loud slap of his pelvis hitting against your skin. Louder than his armor groaning and creaking under all this movement. Louder than the sound of you get exactly what you asked for when you look at your hero to distract you- to save you - from this moment of fear.

“ Oh, yeah baby? You’re getting close? ”

But that’s the thing… he knows. He knows because you’ve been getting louder. He knows because you’ve been getting tighter . He knows because every single time his gaze falls back to the spot where your bodies join, and his dick gets swallowed up by your perfect little cunt time after time, he feels his own core tightening up in a way he can only assume will leave you nice and full and messy until he gets the chance to clean you up later on. He knows you’re close. He knows .

“ Well, that’s too bad, princess.” He grinds out, eyes narrowing into slits as his hands tighten his grip on your hips. And goddesses, how you whimper. Goddesses, how you whine . But no matter how many times you beg him and you cry to him he doesn’t change up like he knows you want him to. He doesn’t shift his angle to hit deeper. He doesn’t speed up his thrusts to hit faster. He doesn’t cater to your every whim. He doesn’t listen to your heavenly cries when you beg him to let you reach euphoria with every single breath you take. At least, not this time. At least, not yet.

But fuck, you bring out the worst in him. You bring out the absolute worst in him. You bring out the man in him. So it’s only fair. It’s only fair that he takes what’s his. It’s only fair that he calls the shots. That he makes the orders on this battlefield. That he fucks you how he wants to. That he fucks you how he needs to.

That he fucks you like he absolutely should.

Because deep down in his mind, he’s still a knight. He’s still disciplined and proper. Courageous and strong. Polite. Gallant. Respect. Dignified. Honorable. He can learn to say no to you. He can learn not to give into your every want. To your every need. He can learn. He can do it. He’s your knight in shining armor. He’s your one and only hero. Your one and only everything . So he can do it. He can do it. He can.

Can’t he?

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romugh · 2 months ago

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TWO OF A KIND - NR

ROMUGH’S KINKTOBER

october 2nd — cloned pleasure, double penetration

DAY TWO || kinktober masterlist || 2024.

pairing- avenger!natasha romanoff x fem!scarletwitch!avenger!reader

cw- 18+!!; dom!top!reader + clone lol, sub!bottom!natasha, double penetration, mommy kink (reader), daddy kink (clone), breeding, creampie (i'm not sorry), all kinds of positions icl, strappie (r wearing), blowie (clone rcv?), thigh job!! , rough, crying (n). pure porn actually, no plot at all. i think those are all the warnings... CANT BELIEVE I FORGOT ABOUT THESE LOL; anal, dp in 1, dp in 2 !!

wc- 11.198k ;)

a/n- i'm sorry but i genuinely could NOT read this a second time to truly finish editing, so there's possibilities of repetition (although i tried to catch any while i wrote and re-read the first time) :') catching up tho, let's gooo!! beware of the warnings!!!!!!!! ;) also, russian translations from google translate, i didn't want to ask my friend! (sorry)

prompts- cloned pleasure, double penetration

synopsis- filth. i'll think about this later, but this is PURE PORN.

taglist?- @lost-mortemanghel, @idkwhatever580, @elliecoochieeater, @left-and-right-up-and-down, @deadlesbianwitches

The mission had gone sideways fast. You were supposed to be in and out, a quick retrieval of stolen intel buried deep in enemy territory. But now, the safehouse was your only option. Snow crunched underfoot as you and Natasha hurried through the dimly lit forest, the cold biting through even your tactical gear. The tension between you had been brewing long before the mission, but now it was thick, unavoidable, and simmering beneath the surface.

You stole a glance at Natasha, her breath visible in the freezing air, the tight lines of her jaw a sure sign she was on edge. She was used to dangerous missions, but this one had pushed both of you. You hadn’t even needed to speak; the way her green eyes darted to you for assurance told you everything. She trusted you—but something else lingered there too, something unspoken.

Finally, the safehouse came into view, barely visible through the dense trees. It was nothing more than a tiny cabin, hidden away, off the grid. It looked worn and uninviting, but it was shelter, and that was all that mattered. The door creaked as you forced it open, ushering Natasha inside before taking one last look at the surrounding forest. No movement. No signs of pursuit—for now.

Inside, the temperature was hardly any better. You rubbed your hands together, fingers still tinged black from the magic you’d used during the mission. Natasha’s gaze flicked to your hands for a brief moment, and you could see the curiosity in her eyes mingling with the tension. You were trying to suppress it, trying to hide the way the Darkhold’s magic was affecting you, but it wasn’t that easy.

The room was dim, illuminated only by the pale light filtering through the cracks in the walls. There were no blankets or supplies in sight, and the chill of the air seeped into your bones. You felt the weight of the atmosphere around you—a mix of adrenaline from the mission and an underlying current of something more intimate, more personal.

“What are you thinking?” you asked, your voice softer than the situation warranted, as if the space between you held more than just cold air.

Natasha hesitated for a moment, glancing at your hands. “I’m thinking we barely made it out.”

Your hands still glowed faintly, and Natasha’s gaze drifted back to them. Her lips pressed into a thin line, like she was holding back a question. “And?” You raised a brow, knowing she wouldn’t let it slide.

A beat of silence passed before Natasha spoke again, her voice low. “And I’m wondering how much control you still have over that power.”

There it was—the elephant in the room. The Darkhold had started to leave its mark, changing you in ways even you didn’t fully understand. But the question hanging in the air wasn’t just about the mission. It was about the tension between you and Natasha, a tension that had been building for longer than you cared to admit.

You stood up, moving toward her with slow, deliberate steps. “I can control it when I need to.”

Natasha didn’t flinch as you approached, her gaze steady. But there was something else there now, beneath the surface—a curiosity that went beyond concern. “And when you don’t?” she murmured.

You were standing close now, the cold air swirling around you, but the heat between the two of you was undeniable. The soft sound of your breath filled the silence as you lifted your hand, watching the way Natasha’s breath hitched when your fingers hovered near her cheek. The magic wasn’t meant to feel like this—intimate, charged. It was dark, unpredictable, but when it was just the two of you, it felt like something else. Something almost seductive.

Natasha’s chest rose and fell a little faster, but her expression was unreadable. “You should rest,” she said finally, breaking the spell for a moment, stepping back just a fraction.

“I will,” you said.

Without waiting for permission, you reached out, cupping her chin gently between your fingers. Her skin was cold, but she didn’t pull away, her eyes fixed on yours as your blackened fingertips brushed along her jawline. There was an intensity in her gaze, a spark of something that told you she wasn’t as unaffected as she wanted you to believe.

You leaned in, voice barely above a whisper. “You trust me, don’t you?”

Natasha’s response came with a pause, as if surprised you even had to ask, but it was clear. “I do.”

You let the weight of her words settle for a moment before releasing her chin, stepping back. “Good. Because I’m going to need you to trust me a little more tonight.”

Her brows furrowed in the slightest way, but she didn’t ask any further questions. She simply nodded, watching you as you began preparing the small space for the night, making sure you had everything set in place. The chill in the air was oppressive, and without the option of fire, the only warmth you could find would have to be shared.

As the silence stretched between you, the weight of unspoken words hung heavy in the air. You could feel Natasha’s eyes on you again, her thoughts trailing in a direction neither of you had fully addressed yet. Something in her demeanour shifted, almost imperceptibly, but you caught it—the faintest flicker of something more than tension, more than concern.

You stood up, crossing the small space between you and Natasha. Her eyes followed your movements carefully, the tension between you palpable, the unsaid words swirling in the air like the winter chill outside.

“Strip,” you said simply, voice calm but firm, as if you were giving a casual order rather than a command.

Natasha blinked at you, her eyes widening slightly. For a split second, she looked genuinely taken aback, her brow furrowing in surprise. But then, just as quickly, her lips curled into a smirk, eyes narrowing with amusement. “Wow,” she teased, the playful glint in her eyes unmistakable. “You usually ask that in a much sweeter manner.”

You rolled your eyes but couldn't stop the small smile tugging at the corners of your lips. Leave it to Natasha to turn a serious moment into an opportunity for teasing. You crossed your arms, raising a brow at her as if to say, Really?

With a dramatic sigh, you played along, voice oozing with mock sincerity. “Oh, dearest Natasha, kindly remove that lovely head of yours from the gutter and take off your clothes,” you drawled, playfully sarcastic. “We’re going to cuddle for body warmth.”

Natasha’s smirk grew, a laugh escaping her as she shook her head. “Body warmth, huh?”

“That’s right,” you replied, keeping your expression straight. “I’m freezing, you’re freezing, and this room isn’t going to get any warmer on its own.”

Natasha didn’t argue, though the teasing glint never left her eyes. She hesitated for a moment longer, clearly savouring the small power she held by keeping you waiting. Then, slowly, she began to unzip her tactical gear, slipping out of the layers of fabric one by one.

Your eyes stayed on her the entire time, trying to maintain a neutral expression, but it was impossible not to feel the rising heat between you. Each movement she made was deliberate, almost calculated, as if she were drawing out the moment. She peeled off her jacket and tossed it aside, her lithe, toned arms finally free from the constraints of her gear.

You swallowed hard, forcing yourself to focus on the practicality of the situation, but it was difficult to ignore the effect she was having on you. Natasha knew what she was doing, and the fact that she didn’t rush made it worse—made it more intimate.

When she finally stood in just her undergarments, Natasha tilted her head, her lips still quirked in that infuriating smirk. “Better?”

“Almost,” you replied, gesturing for her to continue.

Natasha arched a brow but didn’t complain. With one last teasing glance, she slipped her hands behind her back and unclasped her bra, letting it fall to the floor. Your breath caught for a moment, but you tried to keep your reaction under control. The tension between you was palpable now, both of you fully aware of what this moment could lead to, but also silently agreeing not to push it—yet.

As she finally rid herself of the last of her clothing, Natasha stood in front of you, bare and completely unbothered by the situation. She seemed to thrive on your attention, that mischievous glint still in her eye, as though daring you to take the next step.

You let out a small, satisfied hum and gave a playful shake of your head. “There we go. Much better.”

Natasha folded her arms over her chest, looking at you expectantly. “And what about you?”

You raised an eyebrow. “So eager, Romanoff.”

Natasha chuckled, clearly enjoying herself, but you weren’t about to let her take complete control of the moment. With a flick of your fingers, the magical tendrils from the Darkhold flickered to life, glowing just faintly enough to catch Natasha’s attention. She looked your now bare body up and down before she glanced down at your hands, her teasing grin fading ever so slightly, her gaze lingering on the blackened tips of your fingers.

You stepped closer, close enough that you could feel the heat radiating from her body. “Lie down,” you instructed softly, your voice low but with just enough authority to remind her of the situation. “We’re keeping each other warm, remember?”

Natasha raised an eyebrow but complied, sinking onto the bare, cold wooden floor of the cabin. The slight chill in the air contrasted sharply with the warmth you both radiated, and the tension between you only seemed to intensify. You couldn’t deny the way your pulse quickened as you settled down beside her, the two of you fitting together perfectly in the small space.

As you lay down, Natasha nestled against your side, her head resting comfortably on your shoulder. The proximity sent a shiver down your spine, a blend of cold air and the heat radiating off her body. You draped an arm around her, pulling her closer as she shifted to find the perfect position.

“Is this warm enough?” you asked, your voice barely above a whisper, and you felt her smile against your skin.

“Maybe spooning would be better,” she replied, her tone teasing but laced with warmth.

Your fingers traced featherlight patterns along her side, grazing just beneath her breast, teasing but never fully touching. Each brush of your blackened fingertips left her shivering slightly, though not from the cold. You chuckled softly before turning on your side, urging Natasha to do the same.

You could feel it—how her pulse quickened beneath your hand, the subtle rise and fall of her chest betraying her attempts to maintain composure. The steady rhythm of her breathing was interspersed with small, sharp intakes, and you knew, despite her silence, that she was feeling every inch of you pressed against her.

Your lips grazed her neck again, a soft kiss lingering there just long enough to make her squirm slightly. "You're a little tense," you whispered, voice low and smooth, your breath warm against her skin.

Natasha let out a quiet hum, but it was clear she was biting back a response, the teasing dance between you reaching a breaking point. You felt the shift in her body—the way she subconsciously arched her back, pressing herself harder into you. She was holding on, keeping herself in check, but her body couldn’t lie.

You smirked against her neck. "I thought we were just keeping warm."

"We are," Natasha breathed, though the words came out softer than intended, her voice laced with a tension she was no longer hiding.

You let your hand drift lower, tracing the curve of her waist, your fingertips brushing just above her hipbone, teasing but not giving in to the desire thrumming between you. "Just warm enough?"

"Maybe a little more than warm," Natasha admitted, her tone finally breaking, betraying her carefully constructed facade.

You smiled, pressing akiss to her shoulder, and felt her body shudder beneath the light touch. "That's what I thought."

And just like that, you let the magic pulse faintly through your fingertips. It was gentle at first, a slow, humming energy that wound itself around Natasha, barely noticeable but unmistakable in the way her breath hitched, her body stiffening for just a moment.

You felt the shift in the air almost immediately, the familiar, dark energy surging within you. You didn’t need to speak for the magic to do your bidding—it understood you, knew you. With a subtle flick of your wrist, you felt the conjured presence materialise in the room, and you watched Natasha stiffen at the sound of the door creaking open.

Her wide eyes snapped to the doorway, her breath catching as she saw the silhouette standing there.

A perfect replica of you, standing in the shadows, watching the two of you on the cold hard floor.

Natasha sat up slightly, her wide eyes flicked back to you, then back to your clone, trying to make sense of the impossible situation. Her chest heaved as she breathed faster, confusion mingling with something far more dangerous. You could see it—how her body betrayed her. How the sheer wrongness of it, the shock, only added to the electric tension.

“Wha—” she started, her voice barely above a whisper.

You smiled and pulled her back down, pressing a soft kiss to the shell of her ear. “Don’t worry, sweetheart,” you murmured. “She’s not here to hurt you.”

Natasha didn’t reply, her gaze glued to the clone standing ominously at the edge of the room. Her chest rose and fell rapidly, a soft, involuntary whimper escaping her lips. You heard it—the quiet sound she tried to suppress, and you felt it, too. The way her hips pressed down harder onto your thigh, her body reacting instinctively to the overwhelming mix of shame and arousal coursing through her veins. You seized the moment of her confusion, letting your fingers slip down to collect the slickness that had begun pooling between her folds.

Your smirk widened. “You’re fine,” you soothed, though the heat in your voice told a different story. “She’ll do whatever I say, Natasha. Whatever I want.”

As if to prove a point, you brought your fingers—blackened and wet from Natasha’s arousal—up to her lips. Her eyes flicked to your hand, and another soft whimper escaped her, louder this time. The sight of her own slickness glistening on your fingers was too much for her to hide behind that carefully built exterior. She parted her lips, breath shaky, as you hovered your fingers in front of her mouth.

“Look at how wet you are,” you whispered, your voice low and teasing. “You see that?”

Natasha's gaze remained fixed on your fingers, her lips trembling as she nodded, her cheeks flushed with embarrassment and desire. She couldn’t tear her eyes away from the sight of herself on you. You let her watch for a moment longer before slowly slipping one finger between her parted lips, pressing it against her tongue. Natasha’s eyes fluttered closed, a soft, muffled moan escaping her as she tasted herself on your skin.

“Good girl,” you purred, withdrawing your finger slowly, tracing it along her bottom lip. The tension in the room was thick now, Natasha’s breathing shallow, her body writhing slightly in your grasp, torn between the embarrassment of the clone’s presence and the growing arousal she couldn’t ignore.

You turned your attention back to the clone, watching the way it stood perfectly still, awaiting your command. The dark magic swirled within it, just as it did within you, and the power surged through your veins, intoxicating. You could feel the pull, the desire to let it go, to let the clone take what it wanted from Natasha—but not yet.

You had to keep control. For now.

You leaned down, your lips brushing against Natasha’s ear once more. “She’ll be rougher with you,” you murmured, letting the words hang in the air for a moment. “But she won’t do anything I don’t allow. You understand?”

Natasha’s breath hitched again, her hips grinding back against you, and she nodded quickly, her body trembling with anticipation. She was barely holding on, the shame and desire mixing in her veins, making her weak.

“Good,” you whispered, pulling her tighter against you. Without waiting for her response, you slid your fingers back into her mouth, the warmth enveloping them as her lips wrapped around you instinctively. You could feel her tongue swirl around your fingers, soft and eager, heightening the sensations that danced along your skin. Each suck sent a thrill coursing through you, a delicious reminder of the effect you had on her.

“Just like that, Natasha,” you encouraged, your voice barely above a whisper, thick with desire. You revelled in the sight of her losing herself in the moment, her eyes fluttering closed, surrendering fully to the sensations swirling around her. The taste of her slickness mingled with the heat radiating from your body, intoxicating her further.

Her muffled moans vibrated against your fingers, sending ripples of pleasure through your entire being. You could feel your own arousal growing, tightening low in your belly as you marvelled at how completely and utterly she surrendered to you. “God, you’re so beautiful,” you breathed, entranced by her wordless response. You moved your fingers in and out of her mouth, slow and deliberate, enjoying the way she lost herself in the rhythm, the way her body reacted to each gentle thrust.

As the moment intensified, you felt Natasha’s hips begin to shift once more, slowly grinding against your thigh with growing urgency. The slickness coating your leg increased, a stark contrast to the warmth emanating from her body. The sensation of her arousal against your skin sent a jolt of heat coursing through you, every soft stroke of her body igniting a deeper hunger within you.

With each deliberate grind, she coated your thigh in even more of her slickness, her movements becoming more urgent, more desperate, as she sought that delicious friction. You could feel the way her body responded instinctively to the sensation, the wetness contrasting against your skin, fueling your desire. She was overwhelmed, and the thought of her being so turned on by you sent a rush of pride surging through your veins.

“Sweetheart, we want to feel you,” you murmured, her breath hitching slightly, the words spilling from your lips before you could stop them.

Natasha’s movements faltered, confusion flickering across her features as she turned her head slightly to meet your gaze, still gently sucking on your fingers. Your eyes weren’t on her anymore, though, so she looked in front of her again to see what you saw.

Her breath hitched, eyes widening in shock, her body momentarily frozen in place. Your clone had begun to strip, slowly peeling away the layers of clothing that concealed its form, and Natasha's lips parted around your fingers as her attention shifted.

The clone’s body was just as enticing as yours, perhaps even more so in this moment, and as it unveiled itself, Natasha caught a glimpse of the clone’s member. The sheer size and girth of the clone’s cock was enough to drive her wild; it embodied everything she’d ever confessed she wanted in a strap. Just the sight of it sent a wave of sinful excitement rippling through her veins.

“Don’t worry, she won’t hurt you,” you reassured her, your voice low and steady as you observed the way her body reacted to the sight before her. You could feel the tension in her frame, a mixture of excitement and fear swirling within her, and you needed to bridge that gap, to show her just how pleasurable this could be.

With a gentle nudge, you turned on your back, taking Natasha with you, her back still pressed against your chest. The warmth of her skin felt heavenly against the cool air, and you revelled in the sensation of her weight settling atop you. The new position was intimate, your heart racing as you held her tightly, feeling her soft curves against your body.

The clone approached, its smirk growing wider as it took in the scene—Natasha on top of you, her cheeks flushed with desire. Natasha whimpered softly, overwhelmed by the sensory overload coursing through her, the heat of your bodies mingling as she tried to process everything happening around her.

“Relax, baby,” you whispered soothingly, caressing her sides. But before you could soothe her further, your clone roughly grabbed Natasha by the hair, a predatory glint in its eyes. Natasha gasped, her body instinctively responding to the sensation, and you could see the flicker of excitement igniting in her expression.

“Sit up on her abs,” the clone commanded, pulling Natasha to her knees just by her hair. With a mix of force and eagerness, it manhandled her, guiding her to straddle your stomach, manoeuvring her into position, and you could feel her core flush against your skin, slick and warm. Your breath quickened as you felt the wetness gush out of her, soaking onto your abs, a testament to her desire.

Your hands instinctively found their place on her hips, fingers digging in slightly as you helped guide her movements. You urged her to grind softly against you again, teasingly coaxing her to move without overwhelming her just yet. The sensation of her slickness against your stomach sent a jolt of heat through you, and you bit your lip, relishing the connection between you.

“Just like that, Natasha,” you murmured, your voice thick with desire as you watched her react to your touch. “Just let us take care of you.”

Your clone stepped closer, positioning itself just in front of the two of you, its gaze locked onto Natasha with an intensity that sent shivers down her spine. “Open your mouth, sweetheart,” it instructed, its voice low and commanding. Natasha’s eyes widened, a blend of excitement and trepidation flickering across her features as she tried to look from you to your clone, only partially completing that mission.

Feeling your encouraging nod, she leaned forward, her heart racing as she obeyed, parting her lips to take the clone's cock into her mouth. The moment she wrapped her lips around it, the pleasure coursing through her was electric. Your clone telepathically showed you its view, and you could see the way her eyes fluttered, pure bliss washing over her as she began to suck, her cheeks hollowing out around the girth of your clone.

As you held her hips, guiding her gentle grinding on your abs, you felt the wetness spreading even more beneath her, a glorious reminder of how deeply she actually craved this. The sensations intensified, each movement sending waves of pleasure rippling through you both. Natasha moaned around the clone’s cock, the sound vibrating through her body and making her grind even harder against you.

“Good girl,” you praised softly, the words slipping from your lips with a hint of authority. You loved watching her surrender to the pleasure, losing herself in the rhythm of the moment. Your clone took control, urging Natasha to take it deeper, the mix of pleasure and power sending her further into ecstasy.

The tension in the air was palpable as you continued to hold her hips, guiding her movements.

The clone’s grip on Natasha tightened, a possessive hold that sent a thrill of excitement coursing through her as it guided her movements. With each thrust of its hips, it began to push deeper into her mouth, testing her limits, and Natasha instinctively bobbed her head, desperate to please.

“Just like that, Natasha,” you encouraged, watching her struggle to take more of the clone inside her mouth. “You’re doing so good.”

But as the clone felt her lips tighten around its length, the sensation sent it over the edge, losing its controlled demeanour. It thrust forward more forcefully, practically using Natasha’s mouth as a fleshlight, taking what it wanted with reckless abandon. Groans and moans spilled from its lips, the sound almost identical to your own, echoing in the air and driving Natasha wild with desire. Each noise was like a siren call, resonating deep within her as she tried to keep up with the overwhelming sensations.

Tears were streaming down her cheeks, a reflection to the intensity of the pleasure and the stretch of her mouth. She could feel drool pooling at the corners of her lips, mixed with the clone’s precum, and she couldn’t help but lose herself completely in the moment. The skin of her cheeks flushed a deeper shade as the clone's rhythm became more frantic, the wet sounds of its thrusts echoing through the room.

Natasha’s eyes fluttered shut, overwhelmed by the experience, but the moment she felt the clone’s hands tighten in her hair, she forced her gaze to meet its own. You could see the haze of pleasure in her eyes, her breaths coming in ragged gasps as she struggled to take more of the clone inside her.

The clone, clearly intoxicated by the sight of Natasha's beautiful struggle, leaned down closer, its voice dripping with desire. “Look at her,” it groaned, the words laced with a primal edge. “She’s such a mess for me, for us.”

Suddenly, the clone transmitted its sensations directly to your body, filling your senses with the exquisite feeling of Natasha as she fought to accommodate its girth. You could feel her lips stretched impossibly around it, her cheeks hollowed out as she desperately tried to swallow every inch. Drool dripped from her mouth, pooling at her chin and sliding down to her neck, adding to the deliciously lewd scene.

The way her body responded was intoxicating—her back arched, and her hips instinctively rocked as if trying to grind against the phantom sensations. Each thrust from the clone pushed her closer to the edge, her moans vibrating against its shaft, heightening the intensity of everything they were experiencing together.

“Good job, princess,” you urged, the words slipping from your lips as you watched her struggle to breathe, more tears spilling down her cheeks, a beautiful mess of arousal and submission. “Take it all. You know you want to.”

The clone took full advantage of Natasha’s compliance, pounding into her mouth relentlessly, using her like an obedient plaything. It thrust harder, deeper, and with each movement, it pulled more of those delightful sounds from her, the groans and whimpers blending into a symphony of desire that echoed in the room.

Natasha could feel the world around her fade away, the only thing that mattered was the feeling of the clone’s thick shaft stretching her mouth and the dizzying pleasure building within her. She was drowning in the sensations, and it only fueled her need for more.

Every thrust sent waves of ecstasy crashing through her, each moment causing her to lose herself further in the pleasure that enveloped her. With every droplet of precum and every tear that fell, she surrendered to the overwhelming waves of sensation, her body responding instinctively to the relentless rhythm, succumbing to the sweet torment of being used by your clone.

Taking advantage of Natasha's overwhelmed state, you conjured the strap you knew she loved, your magic weaving it into existence with a soft, glowing green hue that danced around it like an ethereal mist. The length was impressive, longer yet less thick than the clone’s member, designed to fit comfortably alongside it when the moment was right. As the strap settled between Natasha’s thighs, the shimmering aura reflected the powers at play, accentuating the beautiful contrast against her flushed skin.

Natasha was lost in the rhythm of her own pleasure, unaware of the strap that now stood ready for her. She continued to grind down mindlessly on your lower belly, seeking any semblance of friction that would drive her closer to the edge. But then, as her movements became more frantic, the strap made contact with her clit. The sudden sensation sent shockwaves through her, and she gagged on the clone’s cock, her eyes widening in realisation as the fullness in her mouth deepened.

She tried to cry out, to convey just how much she needed you—how desperately she craved both of you—but the thick cock filling her throat and the clone’s relentless thrusts silenced her words, reducing them to muffled gurgles. Even so, you could sense her urgency; the way her body quivered beneath the weight of ecstasy.

As if drawn to her need, your hands wandered from her hips to her breasts, feeling the softness of her skin under your fingers. You couldn’t resist the way her body responded, the way she arched into your touch. Slowly, you sat up a little, your abs flexing beneath her as you moved, the strap now pressing firmly against her folds. The sensation jolted Natasha, drawing a cry from her lips that vibrated around your clone’s cock, sending a thrill through both of you.

A rush of wetness spilled out of her, coating the strap with her slickness, and you revelled in the sight. “You like that, don’t you?” you whispered, your breath hot against her ear as you captured her attention. “Feeling both of us, giving in to every need?”

Natasha’s eyes fluttered, her body shaking with desire as she nodded, the overwhelming sensations bringing her closer to the precipice. She was a beautiful mess, lost in the throes of passion and desperation. Your fingers traced over her breasts, squeezing gently as her whimpers filled the air, the sound mingling with the rhythmic slapping of skin against skin.

With each thrust of the clone’s hips, the strap nudged against Natasha's clit, intensifying the pleasure radiating to her core. It felt like a dance, a symphony of sensations that only heightened the tension building between the three of you. The clone, sensing Natasha’s turmoil, began to thrust harder, forcing her deeper onto its cock, and you leaned in closer, brushing your lips against her shoulder.

“Just let go, Natasha,” you urged softly, your voice low and coaxing. “Let us take care of you.”

Natasha’s body responded instinctively, bucking against the strap as she chased the spiralling pleasure that engulfed her. “Please... I need...” Her words were drowned in another moan as the clone pulled her hair, holding her in place, and she could do nothing but submit to the sensations overtaking her.

Your strap shifted again, rubbing against her swollen clit, and the fire ignited inside her. The combination of the clone’s relentless thrusts and the way the strap stimulated her sent her spiralling closer to bliss. The pressure built, coiling tightly in her core, and you could feel the tension radiating off her body, signalling that she was on the verge of an explosive release.

“Come for me, Natasha,” you whispered, your fingers moving to her hips to guide her. “You’re so close. Just let go for us.”

And in that moment, Natasha succumbed to the tidal wave of pleasure, her cries muffled but filled with undeniable passion. The sound of her release echoed through the air, drowning in the intensity of the sensations and the overwhelming connection that bound you all together.

The moment Natasha succumbed to the overwhelming sensations, it was as if time itself froze. A wave of euphoria washed over her, igniting every nerve ending as her body tensed, spiralling into pure bliss. Her mouth was still filled with the clone’s cock, and the muffled cries of ecstasy vibrated against it, sending shivers through both you and the clone. The strap pressed firmly against her clit, rubbing against the sensitive flesh as her body writhed in pleasure, sending surges of warmth cascading through her.

As her orgasm took hold, her vision blurred, and the world around her faded into a haze of colour and sensation. She felt every touch, every thrust, amplifying the heat coiling tightly in her core. The slickness between her legs only intensified, soaking the strap and pooling around it as she bucked against it, lost in a sea of pure ecstasy. A guttural moan escaped her lips, and tears of pleasure streamed down her cheeks, a testament to the intensity of her release.

With each wave of her climax, Natasha felt her body convulsing, as if it were trying to escape the sheer delight enveloping her. The clone, sensing the height of her pleasure, pushed deeper into her throat, its rhythm becoming frantic, mirroring Natasha's mounting need. Her heart raced as the pleasure began to ebb, leaving her breathless and dazed.

But just as she began to float down from that euphoric high, the clone grew increasingly frustrated. As your clone pulled Natasha away from its throbbing length, it was clear that it demanded her undivided attention. The instant Natasha’s mouth was freed from your clone, she gasped for breath, her lips swollen and glistening with a mix of drool and precum. The clone's frustration surged, and with a firm grip on her hips, it manhandled her upwards, lifting her off its cock and positioning her directly over yours.

“Now, take this,” it commanded, pushing Natasha downwards as she lowered herself onto your strap, the length filling her completely in one fluid motion. The sensation was exhilarating, and Natasha let out a startled cry as she felt the entirety of you stretch her. The pressure was overwhelming, pushing her right to the edge, and she could do nothing but submit to the feeling.

You watched in awe as Natasha’s body enveloped you fully, her walls clenching around the strap, creating a delicious friction that sent jolts of pleasure coursing through both of you. She gasped again, her eyes wide with a mixture of surprise and delight as she felt the cold silicone filling her warm depths.

“God, you’re so tight,” you breathed, your hands instinctively finding her waist once more, guiding her movements as she adjusted to the feeling of being filled completely.

Your clone smirked, taking a step back to admire the sight before it. Natasha’s back was arched, her face flushed, and her breaths were coming in quick gasps as she savoured the sensation of being impaled on your strap. It was a sight that drove both of you wild.

“Ride Mommy,” the clone urged, voice low and sultry. It revelled in the power dynamics, knowing Natasha was entirely at the mercy of both you and your clone.

As if compelled by the command, Natasha began to lift herself slightly, feeling the strap sliding in and out, her slickness coating the length of you. But just as she began to find her rhythm, the clone leaned in closer, grasping her hair and pulling her head back gently to expose her neck, its breath hot against her ear.

“Now, let’s see how much you can really take,” it whispered, urging Natasha to push herself further.

With a sudden, assertive movement, your clone guided Natasha downwards harder, forcing her to take the entire length of the strap again. The sensation was overwhelming, and Natasha’s breath hitched as she felt the fullness stretch her further. It took everything in her to hold back a scream, the sheer pleasure coursing through her body making her skin tingle.

You felt her body shudder above you, the warmth and slickness surrounding you creating an intoxicating blend of sensations. “That’s it, Nat,” you encouraged, your hands tightening on her waist as you helped her find the perfect angle to ride you. “Just like that.”

But your clone wasn’t done yet. With each upward thrust of Natasha’s hips, it took advantage of her momentary distraction, pushing her back down harder on your strap, driving the full length into her in a way that left her breathless. She felt utterly consumed, every thrust sending waves of pleasure radiating through her, igniting the spark of ecstasy within her core.

“Feel how good you are for us,” the clone said, watching with pleasure as Natasha began to lose herself to the sensations. Her body moved in perfect rhythm, each thrust pushing her closer to the precipice of bliss.

“Please,” Natasha gasped, overwhelmed by the intensity of it all, but you both knew exactly what she meant. She craved more. More friction. More pleasure. More of both of you.

The clone, clearly impatient with the slow –but hard– pace, decided it was time to take charge. With a firm grip on Natasha’s hair, it yanked her off your strap, forcing her to gasp in surprise as she was pulled away. The sudden shift made her body tremble with anticipation, and before she could fully register what was happening, the clone manoeuvred her back onto you, repositioning her like before.

Natasha’s back pressed against your soft breasts, the warmth of your body enveloping her as she nestled into them, feeling safe yet overwhelmed by the sensations that coursed through her. The strap remained nestled between her thighs, brushing against her sensitive skin, an enticing reminder of the pleasure still to come.

As your clone positioned itself in front of Natasha, ready to enter her, the anticipation hung thick in the air. The moment Natasha felt the clone’s girth pressing against her entrance, a shiver shot through her spine. The sensation was so familiar yet different—she knew this wasn’t your strap; it was something else entirely, and the knowledge sent a thrill through her.

“Just relax,” your clone purred, voice low and sultry. With that, it pushed forward, filling Natasha in one powerful thrust. The feeling was unlike anything she had experienced before; the clone was thicker, hotter, and it stretched her in ways that made her see stars.

Natasha’s head dropped back against your shoulder, her breath hitching in her throat as the wave of sensation crashed over her. She turned her face into your neck, muffling her cries against your skin, the sound lost in the warmth of your embrace.

Your hand instinctively found its way to her breasts again, fingers teasingly groping them while your other hand roamed down to her stomach, tracing the soft contours of her body. You could feel every muscle quiver under your touch, the tension radiating from her as the clone began to establish a rhythm.

With each thrust, your clone buried itself deeper inside Natasha, pushing her tightly against you. The contrast of sensations was intoxicating—your warmth wrapping around her like a cocoon, while the clone filled her completely, driving her wild. Natasha squirmed beneath the onslaught, desperately trying to control her feelings, but it was proving impossible.

As the clone picked up the pace, Natasha instinctively leaned further into you, her body grinding against yours as she sought more friction. You could feel her slickness coating your strap and stomach, mixing with the clone’s thrusts, creating a delicious mess.

“God, you’re so beautiful,” you whispered, unable to resist leaning down to kiss her temple. Each kiss you left only fueled her desire further, and Natasha responded by sucking hickeys into your neck, desperately trying to stifle her moans with your flesh.

Your clone’s grip on her hips tightened, its movements becoming rougher and more demanding, forcing Natasha to take every inch. She could hardly think, lost in the haze of pleasure, her mind swirling with the feeling of being so thoroughly filled. Each thrust hit the perfect spot, igniting sparks of ecstasy deep within her core.

“Don’t hold back,” you encouraged, your voice a soft murmur as you cupped her breasts, fingers teasing her nipples. “Let it all go.”

With each thrust of the clone, Natasha felt herself teetering on the edge, the world around her fading once more as her body succumbed to the pleasure. It was a symphony of sensations—your warmth, the clone’s depth, and the exhilaration of knowing she was being completely claimed in this moment.

“Please,” she gasped, words spilling from her lips like a prayer, “I need… I need you both.”

The clone only responded with a growl, driving harder into her as it relished the power of the moment. The sound echoed in her ears, blending with your soft coos of encouragement, pulling her closer to that sweet release she so desperately craved.

Natasha surrendered herself to the waves of pleasure washing over her, the tension building to an almost unbearable point. With every thrust, every touch, she felt herself spiralling closer to the brink, her body singing with need.

As the clone drove deeper into Natasha, the sensations began to overwhelm her. Each thrust was met with a delicious ache, pushing her closer to the edge of pleasure. Natasha felt herself slipping away, her mind clouding with bliss as the clone’s relentless rhythm ignited a fire within her core. The world around her had faded, leaving only the pulsating waves of ecstasy crashing over her like a tide, almost dumbifying her senses.

“Please… I can’t… too much,” she whined, her voice barely above a whisper, yet it carried the weight of desperation. The overwhelming pleasure pulled her further into subspace, each thrust sending her tumbling deeper, her breath hitching with every movement.

In that moment, you focused your energy, telepathically communicating with your clone. Slow down, you urged, your voice echoing in the shared space of your minds. Let me join you.

Your clone smirked mischievously, the glimmer in its eyes matching the wickedness of its intentions. Just as it heard Natasha’s whimper, “Daddy, too much. Slower, please,” the tension in the air thickened with anticipation.

You and your clone exchanged knowing smirks, an understanding passing between you both. With a gentle yet firm touch, you began to circle Natasha’s sensitive clit with your fingers, a silent promise that you would fill her too in just a few moments. Natasha’s body responded, her cries turning into soft sobs, “Mommy, please. Need you, need you and Daddy in me, please fill me.”

With those words, the clone manoeuvred your strap to Natasha’s entrance, the one already filled with its girth. Slowly, it pressed the strap alongside its own cock, teasingly close yet not fully joining the two.

To your surprise, the moment your strap touched Natasha’s sensitive entrance, you felt everything as if it was a part of you, like the two were connected through some magical bond. You couldn't tell if it was your imagination or if your powers were taking over, but the sensation was dizzying, a mix of pleasure and overwhelming intimacy. It was something you’d have to figure out later, but right now, the sight before you demanded your attention.

Natasha’s pleading pulled you from your thoughts, her hand coming up to grasp the side of your face, her gaze desperate and filled with need. Her face remained buried in your neck, wet kisses and drool spilling from her mouth as she surrendered completely.

With a steadying breath, you slowly pushed into her, feeling the strap glide against the slickness of her folds and your clone’s shaft. Natasha whined and choked on her cries, hearing your voice twice, a beautiful harmony that reverberated through her. As your strap joined the clone’s cock nestled deep inside her, she gasped, her body quaking with the overwhelming fullness.

“God, you feel so good,” you groaned, your voice a breathy whisper as you watched her face contort with pleasure, the sight of her blissful expression driving you wild. The twin sensations of being filled by both you and your clone sent Natasha soaring to new heights, her body arching as waves of ecstasy rolled through her.

With each thrust, you felt the connection strengthen, your movements harmonising with the clone’s, creating a rhythm that left Natasha breathless and begging for more. The way she clenched around you was intoxicating, a visceral reminder of the connection you all shared.

“Just like that, baby,” you coaxed, fingers still teasing her clit, amplifying her pleasure with each calculated stroke. Natasha’s cries filled the air, a melody of need and desire, each sound sending shivers down your spine.

As you sank deeper into her, pushing your hips up as much as you could, your breath mingling with hers, you knew you were entering a new level of intimacy, a space where pleasure and connection intertwined beautifully. And as Natasha’s body began to tighten around you both, you could feel her on the verge of yet another climax, her mind and body succumbing to the overwhelming sensations you and your clone were creating together.

The clone’s restraint began to wane as it felt the intoxicating pull of pleasure surging through both you and Natasha. With each thrust, it pounded harder, pushing Natasha deeper into you, driving her body against yours. You flexed all your muscles beneath her, amplifying every sensation, forcing her to feel everything.

Natasha cried out, the sound a beautiful mix of ecstasy and desperation. “Please, please, don’t stop!” she begged, her voice raw with need as she writhed against you, lost in the tidal wave of pleasure. The way her body moved, the slickness coating your abs and thighs, only heightened your desire, turning your focus solely on her.

The strap nestled inside her, pressing snugly against her walls, the sensation of fullness overwhelming her senses. The clone continued to thrust, each movement sending jolts of pleasure rippling through Natasha’s body, amplifying the exquisite sensation of being filled by the two you’s.

“Just let go, baby,” you encouraged, your voice low and filled with desire. “Mommy’s right here with you.”

As the clone lost its last shred of control, it began to pound into her relentlessly. Natasha’s back arched, and she gasped, her head pressing against your shoulder as the force of the thrusts sent waves of pleasure crashing through her body. The rhythm turned chaotic, the clone’s hips snapping forward with a desperate urgency, and you felt every thrust radiate through you.

“Fuck!” you gasped, the intensity of her cries echoing in your ears, every sound driving you further into your own desire.

With a sob that echoed through the room, Natasha felt the pressure building to an unbearable level. The clone’s relentless pace pushed her toward the edge, but as she neared her peak, she suddenly found herself overwhelmed, lost in the sensations coursing through her. “Oh my god!” she cried, the sound almost a plea as her body quaked with pleasure.

As both of you reached the brink of ecstasy, the clone began to slow down, savouring the moment, prolonging the exquisite tension building between you. The pace became almost maddeningly slow, each thrust deliberate, dragging Natasha closer to the precipice of another orgasm.

“Please… don’t stop,” she whimpered, her voice thick with desperation. “I need—”

But before she could finish, another wave of pleasure crashed over her, sending her spiralling into bliss. The feeling of fullness, the dual sensations of the clone's cock and your strap filling her up, made everything burst into a kaleidoscope of sensations.

“God, Natasha!” you groaned, your body responding to her release, every muscle tightening as she surrendered to the overwhelming wave of ecstasy.

And in that moment, the clone and you both felt it more than ever—the twin sensations of Natasha’s body clenching around you as she rode the wave of her climax, your own pleasure coiling tightly within you before spilling over. The moan that escaped your lips mixed with hers, creating a symphony of raw desire.

In those final moments, as Natasha's cries of pleasure echoed through the room, the world outside faded away, leaving only the intoxicating haze of fulfilment that enveloped you. As the waves of ecstasy subsided, Natasha's body trembled with residual pleasure, but you could feel an insatiable need bubbling up within you. You wanted more. You wanted to see her face—truly see her, not just through the lens of the clone's shared images.

With a sudden surge of energy, you gripped Natasha's waist, pulling her up and spinning her around, determined to make her face you. The clone smirked, still behind her, watching with a mix of amusement and eagerness. Natasha gasped as you manhandled her, positioning her so that she straddled your lap, her thighs encasing you as you held her steady.

“Now you look at me, Natasha,” you breathed, your gaze locking onto hers. Her eyes were wide, still glazed from pleasure, yet there was an unmistakable spark of desire flickering within them. “Mommy needs to see you.”

“God, you’re breathtaking,” you murmured, your hands roaming up to cup her face, feeling the heat radiating from her skin. The contrast between her warmth and the still chilly air heightened your senses even more. You could see the remnants of tears glistening in her eyes, a reflection of the pleasure she had just experienced.

Your clone wasted no time in positioning itself behind her, its cock pressing against her slick folds already filled with your strap, teasing her with the promise of complete fullness. “Ready?” it asked, its voice deep and laced with mischief.

Natasha nodded, her breath hitching in her throat as she took in the sight of you—her gaze flickering from your eyes to the clone behind her. “Please,” she begged, her voice a desperate whisper, as if the simple word contained all her longing.

With a swift thrust, the clone buried itself deep within her, and Natasha cried out, the sound reverberating through you both. Her body instinctively bucked, arching toward you while her hands gripped your shoulders for support. You held her close, watching the way her face twisted with pleasure, a sight that fueled your desire even further.

“Come on, princess,” you encouraged, your fingers trailing down to her hips, guiding her movements as you urged her to ride you, feeling the sensation of her warmth enveloping you. “Show us how much you want it.”

The clone’s hands gripped Natasha's waist, pushing her back and forth, allowing her to feel the exquisite pressure building between them. As she began to ride, you could see the conflict between pleasure and control etched on her face—a mix of vulnerability and power as she took charge.

“Look at you,” you praised, your voice low and sultry. “You’re so beautiful like this.”

Natasha's body moved with a fervour that left you breathless, her gaze locked onto yours as she rode you with reckless abandon. The pressure of the clone behind her only heightened the sensations as it thrust into her, filling the same heated space while you filled her from the front. She was caught in a delicious dance, both of you driving her closer to the edge.

“More,” she gasped, her voice trembling with the intensity of it all. “I need more!”

You could see the way her body shuddered, the pleasure coursing through her as the clone thrust deeper, driving her wild. “What exactly do you want from Daddy, baby?” you teased, your tone sultry as your hands roamed down her body, cupping her breasts and revelling in the softness of her skin.

With a breathy whimper, Natasha looked at you, her eyes glazed and wide with need. “I… I want you both,” she pleaded, but there was something deeper in her request. “I want Daddy to take me… in my ass.”

The words hung in the air, shocking both you and the clone into silence. The sheer boldness of her request sent a thrill through you, but uncertainty quickly followed. You glanced at the clone, who mirrored your surprise, its eyes reflecting the same mix of excitement and concern.

“Are you sure, sweetheart?” you both asked in unison, your voices blending together, creating a curious harmony in the heat of the moment.

Natasha's breaths were rapid, her body trembling with a mix of desire and need. “I need it,” she whimpered, tears brimming in her eyes as she looked down at you. “I need to— Please. I need… Stretch.”

The vulnerability in her tone, paired with the overwhelming look of desperation in her eyes, left you both at a loss for words. You could see how deeply she had sunk into subspace, her mind fogged with pleasure, making her almost dizzy with the intensity of it all.

“Okay, baby,” you said softly, brushing a stray hair from her face. “But only if you really want it. We’ll take care of you, I promise.”

The clone nodded in agreement, its cock still nestled deep inside her, teasing her as it awaited your cue. Natasha nodded vigorously, her body arching back against the clone, urging it to fill her.

“Please,” she cried, a sob of need escaping her lips. “I need to feel you both—stretch me, Daddy.”

You felt a rush of heat at the word, your heart racing as you shared a knowing look with the clone.

“Alright,” you murmured, your voice steady. “Just breathe through it, okay? We’re right here with you.”

With that reassurance, the clone repositioned itself, the head of its cock teasing Natasha’s tight entrance. You could feel the tension in her body, the way she braced herself for what was to come. Natasha was so far gone, her thoughts jumbled, the edges of reality blurring as she focused on the sensations overwhelming her senses.

As the clone began to push in, you watched Natasha’s eyes widen, her breath hitching as she adjusted to the sensation. “Relax, baby,” you urged, your hands smoothing over her arms, guiding her through the intensity of the moment.

The clone pushed deeper, inching into her until you could see her body quiver, her moans mixing with gasps of pain and discomfort. “You’ve got it, just breathe,” you encouraged. “You’re doing so well.”

Natasha’s head dropped down against your forehead, a soft whimper escaping her lips as she adjusted to the fullness. Her body trembled, the combination of sensations sending her whirling into bliss. “More,” she begged, her voice laced with desperation. “Please, move!”

With every thrust, your clone filled her, pushing her deeper into the realms of pleasure she had yet to explore. You could feel her body clenching around both of you, her walls tightening with each movement, and it was intoxicating.

“Look at you,” you praised, your fingers brushing against her cheeks, feeling the warmth radiating from her flushed skin. “So beautiful and full.”

Just as you coaxed her to ride you harder, Natasha cried out, her body shuddering as another orgasm washed over her, sending shockwaves through her entire being. She convulsed against you, her cries muffled against your shoulder as her body surged with pleasure, and she felt blissfully alive, even as she hovered on the brink of exhaustion.

“Mommy!” she cried, her voice raw and pleading. “More. Please don’t stop!”

You exchanged a glance with the clone, both of you grinning at the sheer intensity of it all. Natasha was lost in her own world of pleasure, her mind tangled in the blissful haze that engulfed her.

“Okay, baby. You’re such a good girl for Mommy” you whispered, kissing her softly on the neck as the clone continued its steady rhythm, pushing her deeper into the realm of ecstasy.

“Just hold on, Natty. We’re going to take you higher,” you promised.

As Natasha continued to ride you, her movements became more frantic, each upward thrust heightening her arousal. The sensations overwhelmed her, and as she felt the clone still thrusting deep within her from behind, she teetered on the edge of yet another orgasm. The waves of pleasure coiled tightly in her core, and she gasped, “I’m so close!”

“Let it happen, Natty. Just let go. You don’t have to ask or warn Mommy,” you urged, your voice barely a whisper, yet firm with encouragement.

With a final thrust from the clone, the tension snapped. Natasha’s body erupted in a symphony of pleasure, her cries mingling with the gasps of ecstasy that poured from her lips. She squirted slightly, the sensation washing over her, making her see stars. The feelings were almost too much as she shuddered on top of you, riding out the waves of her orgasm.

“Mommy! Please!” she whimpered, her body trembling as she struggled to stay upright, lost in the aftermath of her climax. “I need more!”

The urgency in her voice spurred you on, and without hesitation, you adjusted your grip around her waist and lifted her effortlessly, standing up until you were carrying her in your arms. Natasha clung to you, her legs wrapping tightly around your waist, the strap still nestled snugly inside her, making her feel filled and deliciously full.

“Hold on, baby,” you instructed playfully, feeling her breath hitch in excitement as you positioned her. The clone shifted behind her, hands gripping her hips as it prepared to take her again.

With a firm thrust, the clone began to pound into her ass once more, each one sending waves of pleasure coursing through the redhead. The dual sensations were almost overwhelming as she felt both of you moving together again, the rhythm sending her spiralling deeper into euphoria. The pressure built inside her, and Natasha found herself gasping, her moans mingling with whimpers of delight as she surrendered completely to the sensations enveloping her.

The new position intensified everything. You felt every flex of her muscles against you, the sensation of her warmth surrounding you heightening the intimacy. The clone’s thrusts were deep and relentless, driving her further into a haze of pleasure, each stroke hitting a spot that made her cry out breathlessly.

Natasha’s body responded instinctively, her back arching as the clone continued to thrust into her. You could feel the rhythm of both of you, creating a symphony of pleasure that drowned out any rational thought. The overwhelming sensations flooded her senses, and she felt herself teetering on the brink of something beautifully intense.

“Да...да...please...” she babbled, her words tumbling out in a mixture of Russian and English, barely coherent as the pleasure swelled within her. Each thrust sent shockwaves of ecstasy coursing through her, the dual penetration pushing her deeper into a euphoric state where everything else faded away.

As she surrendered completely, her moans morphed into gasps, and you could feel her heartbeat quickening, the desperation in her voice reflecting the sheer intensity of what she was experiencing. The world around her blurred, and she felt as if she was floating, the sensations spiralling into a blissful abyss where nothing else mattered—only the exquisite connection between the three, the two of you.

With each thrust, the boundaries of pleasure expanded, and Natasha found herself lost in the rhythm, her body trembling as she embraced the overwhelming waves that threatened to pull her under completely.

“Just like that,” you encouraged, your voice thick with lust as you watched her expression shift from blissful concentration to pure ecstasy.

Natasha could feel the heat radiating from both of you, and as the clone thrust deeper into her, she could hardly contain herself. The movements became more frantic, and you could see her losing control, the familiar warmth pooling in her belly as the tension coiled tighter and tighter.

As the clone’s thrusts grew more intense, Natasha couldn’t hold back any longer. She cried out, her body shaking as her second orgasm crashed over her like a tidal wave. The climax ignited her senses, sending her plummeting into oblivion. She squirted again, this time with an intensity that shocked you, the warmth cascading from her, soaking the ground beneath you as she lost herself completely. The sensations enveloped her entirely, pushing her to the brink of consciousness as pleasure consumed her.

“Oй! Боже мой [Oh! Oh my God]!” Natasha wailed, her voice a desperate blend of ecstasy and disbelief as she clung to you with a death grip, burying her face in your neck. Each powerful thrust from the clone behind her sent shockwaves of pleasure through her body, igniting a fire that burned deep within her core. “Я не могу! [I can’t take it!]” she gasped, her words tumbling out in a frenzied mix as her mind began to unravel.

The stretch of being filled by both you and the clone left her breathless, every thrust pushing her further into euphoria.

“Наполните меня! [Fill me!]” she begged, her voice trembling with desperation, matching the frantic rhythm of her heartbeat. Her begs turned into screams, the feeling of both of you surrounding her senses, every nerve ending alight with pleasure as she felt the clone’s thickness coat her walls. “Fill me! Fill me more!”

As the clone withdrew, leaving her gaping and desperate, it suddenly plunged back into her pussy with an intensity that made her scream. The sheer fullness was intoxicating, driving her wild. You felt the clone’s cock throbbing against the strap again, its thickness coating her walls with each thrust. Natasha’s cries vibrated against your skin, breath warm and shaky as she surrendered completely to the sensations enveloping her.

The clone’s movements became frantic, and Natasha’s body responded eagerly, waves of ecstasy crashing over her as it filled her with its seed. “Oh, боже, да! [God, yes!]” she cried, each pulse of the clone’s release sending you both spiraling deeper into pleasure. The warmth flooded her core, and you could feel your clone’s throbbing cock pulsing inside her, your own body tingling as the sensations intertwined. The heat radiating from Natasha was intoxicating, a sweet rush of satisfaction that coursed through you with every throb of the clone.

The combination of sensations was overwhelming. The way the clone thrust back into her, slamming against the strap, sent her drifting into another dimension of bliss. Natasha cried out as she felt the clone stretching her in ways she never imagined possible, and it drove her wild. You could feel the slick warmth of her inner walls enveloping both you and the clone, mingling with her own juices, creating a heady mix that made your skin prickle with desire. Each pulse resonated within you, a delicious reminder of how completely she was filled, and it ignited a primal need in you to hold her tighter.

“Я такая полная… [I’m so full…]” Natasha babbled, her voice thick with pleasure as she felt the warm slickness spilling out, dripping down her thighs. “Пожалуйста! Ещё! [Please! More!]” She clung to you tighter, her body quaking with each thrust, and you felt her heat radiating, igniting every nerve ending in your body. The clone’s release filled her to the brim, and the sensation sent a rush of pleasure through you, mirroring her own ecstatic response.

As the clone surged inside her again, the potent warmth enveloped both of you. Each pulse of its release drove her deeper into ecstasy, creating a continuous cycle of pleasure that left her gasping for breath. You could feel your own arousal heightening with every movement, your body responding in kind to Natasha’s cries and the rhythmic pounding of the clone. Her moans echoed in your ears, intoxicating you as they mixed with the sound of skin slapping against skin.

“Ah! Yes! Please!” Natasha screamed, the overwhelming sensations sending her spiraling into yet another orgasm. You felt every pulse through the strap, a visceral connection that made you acutely aware of her pleasure. The slick warmth spilling around you only heightened your own arousal, driving you further into the intoxicating haze of shared ecstasy.

Her screams filled the air as the pressure peaked, and she squirted again, the force of her orgasm leaving her breathless and light-headed. You could feel the warm release of the clone filling her, and that sensation sent a jolt of pleasure coursing through you, making your body hum with excitement. The overwhelming sensations wrapped around her like a blanket as she felt her body go limp, her vision fading into darkness as she passed out, completely lost in ecstasy.

As Natasha’s body went limp in your arms, the clone began to dissolve, its form fading into nothingness as if it had never existed. The strap also vanished, leaving you feeling achingly empty yet exhilarated from the shared experience. You gently slid down against the wall, cradling Natasha against your chest, her breath warm and steady against your skin.

Your fingers were completely black now, a vivid reminder of the intensity that had just unfolded. But despite the darkened marks, you couldn’t help but smile, knowing every moment had been worth it. Holding her tightly, you felt a rush of protectiveness and tenderness wash over you as you watched her drift into a blissful slumber, the aftershocks of pleasure still evident in her soft sighs. In this quiet moment, you revelled in the connection you shared, cherishing the way her body fit perfectly against yours, as if you were two halves of a whole.

The world outside faded away, leaving just the two of you in this cocoon of warmth and intimacy, a perfect refuge after the storm of ecstasy.

A little while later, Natasha slowly regained consciousness, her senses gradually returning to her. You were sitting on the ground with your back against the wall, her knees around your waist as she sat on your lap, her body completely leaning into you. She felt so warm and safe, a serene calm washing over her.

As her eyes fluttered open, she blinked lazily, taking a moment to adjust to her surroundings. When her gaze landed on you, a soft smile crept across her lips, and she chuckled tiredly. “I’m warm now,” she whispered against your lips, the playful spark in her eyes bringing a warmth to your chest.

You couldn’t help but grin as you took her face in your hands, savouring the moment. You mentally captured the image of her—hair tousled, cheeks flushed, and that blissful expression that showed just how thoroughly spent she was.

Without thinking, you leaned in and kissed her passionately, feeling the spark ignite between you. It was the first kiss you had shared that night, and both of you knew that this was more than “just” an 'I fuck my friend' friendship, it always has been more. The kiss spoke of something deeper, an unspoken connection solidified by the level of intimacy you had just shared.

When you finally pulled away, Natasha rested her forehead against yours, her breaths still heavy but now laced with contentment. “What just happened?” she asked, her eyes sparkling with a mix of disbelief and affection.

You chuckled softly, brushing a stray strand of hair from her face. “I think we just took our friendship to a whole new level.”

Natasha smirked, her eyes still half-closed, and shot back, “Fuck that word. This isn’t friendship. Not to me anymore, it hasn’t been for a while.”

With a satisfied grin, she nestled into you, her body still warm against yours as she closed her eyes, content to linger in the afterglow of the night.

Softly, she snuggled her face into the crook of your neck before whispering the three words she was so scared to say.

The honesty in her voice mingled with the playful spark in her eyes, and it felt like a promise—a thrilling acknowledgment of everything that had just transpired between you.

#romugh slays #romugh writes #natasha romanoff #natasha romanoff reader #natasha romanoff x reader #black widow #kinktober 2024 #kinktober #romugh's kt '24 #pure filth

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shizuturnspages · 1 month ago

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PLEASE hear me out yan ajaw whether hes taken over kinich or made a contract with us like kinich has POTENTIAL and ill DIE ON THIS HILL

and if its the latter u can annoy him and he cant do shit we finna become a bully with this one

... how about both?

I LOVE YOUR IDEA SM.

Let's have Ajaw be the one in control for one sec, and be a victim of our bullying the next sec

Ajaw Taking Over Kinich

❥ When Ajaw takes over Kinich, you’re no longer dealing with just a yandere—now you’ve got this ancient being level of possessiveness wrapped in Kinich’s body. His obsession? Fucking amplified. Ajaw doesn’t just want you—he needs you like a force of nature, like the sun fucking needs to rise. You’re not just a person to him; you’re his divine claim. And this isn’t some subtle obsession—Ajaw’s got that “I will literally destroy worlds if you leave me” kind of energy. It’s overwhelming and all-consuming.

❥ Kinich might still be in there somewhere, but Ajaw’s taken over, and he’s using Kinich’s love for you to fuel his own fucking twisted desires. Imagine that—Kinich still loves you, but it’s buried under Ajaw’s possessive rage, and that makes this shit even more terrifying. Ajaw’s merciless, and Kinich’s gentle nature is just another weapon to get you to submit. One minute you’re being coaxed in softly by Kinich’s memories, the next? Ajaw’s locking you away, claiming you’re his and only his. Forever.

❥ With Ajaw in control, you’re untouchable—but it comes with a fucking price. You belong to him, and he’s going to make sure everyone knows it. This isn’t just regular protection—it’s on a divine level. Anyone who even looks at you? Gone. He’ll bring down the full force of his godly power to keep you safe, and if that means erasing threats from existence? So be it. You’re his, and he’ll ensure no one ever comes between you, even if it means sacrificing the world to keep you close.

Ajaw’s Contract with You

❥ In this scenario, Ajaw’s not taking over Kinich—he’s making a contract with you. And let’s be real, he didn’t want this shit. He’s a powerful, ancient entity, and now he’s bound to you, someone who’s more than happy to mess with him at every turn. And he can’t do shit about it. You’re his contracted partner, and he’s supposed to be controlling the situation, but you’ve turned the tables. He’s stuck, and you’re having the time of your fucking life making him squirm.

❥ Now that Ajaw’s bound to you, he’s technically at your command—but he’s not happy about it. You can push his buttons, tease him, and get under his skin in ways no one else could dare. He’s used to being worshipped, feared, and obeyed. But you? You’re treating him like a toy, poking fun at his divine powers and reminding him he’s stuck with you. And that pisses him off in the best way. He tries to act all cold and detached, but deep down? You’re the one driving him fucking crazy.

❥ The more you tease him, the more fucking obsessed he gets. Ajaw isn’t used to someone who doesn’t cower in front of him, and that only makes his obsession burn hotter. He tries to keep control, tries to act like h.e’s the one in charge, but you keep flipping the script. You bully him, annoy him, and he can’t do shit to stop it. And the worst part for him? He likes it. You’re the only one who challenges him, the only one who doesn’t fall in line, and it fucking drives him wild.

❥ You know those moments when you’re really pissing him off, and he wants to punish you but can’t? That’s where the petty god shit comes in. He’ll try to get back at you in the most ridiculous ways—subtly messing with your day-to-day life, making things inconvenient, like blocking the sun for a few hours or causing minor natural disasters just to make you mad. But the more he tries to assert dominance, the more you push back. You two are in a constant back-and-forth, and honestly? It’s fucking hilarious.

❥ Even though you’re bullying the hell out of him, Ajaw’s possessiveness never fucking fades. If anyone else tries to get close to you? Oh, they’re fucking gone. He might be bound to your contract, but he’ll still pull some divine shit to make sure no one else gets near you. And deep down, you know he’s obsessed. No matter how much you tease him, at the end of the day, Ajaw’s burning need for you is so intense it practically consumes him. You hold all the cards, but fuck, does he love playing your game.

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delphi-shield · 1 year ago

Text

push and pull // leon s. kennedy & jill valentine

Leon x Reader x Jill Smut wc: 2,860 mdni - 18+ read on ao3

the plumber at my house reading this over my shoulder: 😲 this has been in my drafts for like two months, i finally ripped the bandaid off and touched it up. i cant believe people want the jill/leon ship name to be jilleon when 'breakfast sandwich' is right there. ohh nooo i had to cut the scene where they high-five after you cum...... guess i'll have to write more jill and leon......what a tragedy.....

summary: Jill said she'd be home two hours ago. She's stood you up for dinner again. You're so upset, Leon's got to fuck you about it to make you feel better.

content: fem!reader, all porn no plot, piv (reader receiving), some praise from leon & some degradation from jill, spit, crying, hair-pulling, masturbation, blowjob, dom!jill, use of strap-on, established poly relationship, sorry yeah there's more religious imagery, stealing the jill & leon dynamic from this post, fucking your relationship problems away does not work and you should not attempt. very loosely proofread.

Jill's late.

She promised. You cooked, you cleaned, and she promised she would be here. Bought a special candle and everything, three wick, fresh linen scent. Not your kind of thing, but you know she likes those clean, bright smells.

The first half hour, you’d clung to the idea that her physical therapy appointment was just running late. Forty-five minutes in, three unanswered texts, your hope diminishes. An hour, and Leon’s helping you put the food up and clean the dishes.

Leon’s not exactly happy with Jill. This isn’t the first time she’s done this to you. He hates to see you pout. Even more than that, he hates to see the way you’re trying not to cry in front of him. He does everything he can think of to make you feel better. Watch one of your godawful shows with you, play with your hair for you, give you a nice bath if you wanted - none of his offers made much of a difference. He knows better than to take it personally. He’s not Jill. He can’t fix what she broke.

He can fuck you about it, though. That always seems to take your mind off things, at least for a little while.

He let you use him however you like, dealer’s choice. You wanted him in the dining room chair, wanted to ride him slow, grind down on that fat cock till you unwound and your pretty tears weren’t because your girlfriend stood you up, and that’s what you’d get. Not his first choice, but he’s not the one who looks so pretty with those big, wet eyes.

The only downside is that you can't hear Jill's key turning in the door when Leon's got his cock stuffed so deep in your pussy you can feel him in your ribs, when you’re too busy rocking yourself to a gradual, slow-built end. You'd missed your ringtone too - and Leon's for that matter. You weren't intentionally being petty, but intentions never did soothe Jill's moods.

"Nice," she drawls, dropping her bag with a thud. "Real nice."

Your head falls back just enough to get a look at her, pouting in the doorway. Maybe it's supposed to be intimidating. Really, she just looks like a dejected cat, all puffed up for attention. The hand splayed on Leon’s chest flops back uselessly, reaching for her.

“Jill -”

Leon’s hips jut up, reminding you he's here, reminding you who's inside you. Whatever you were going to say melts away into a whine so pathetic even you want to roll your eyes.

"Got started without you," Leon says, callous on your behalf. His hand cups the back of your neck, pulling you back to him. It doesn’t take much prompting for you to curl back into his chest, walls fluttering around his cock, gripping him like your life depends on it. "Saved you some dinner. It’s in the fridge."

How can he be so casual? Feels like you’ve got lava running through your blood. His hands settle on your hips again, push-pulling you back and forth to get you to grind again. You oblige, faster than before, mouthing open kisses against his neck. They ought to canonize him for his patience, crown him Patron Saint of Not Plowing You Into The Carpet.

Jill doesn't say a word. She marches off to the bedroom, leaving her boots behind as she goes. Her cardigan gets flung over the couch - poor thing. It didn't do anything wrong.

She’ll come out when she’s ready, you tell yourself. Ignoring the ingrained need to manage Jill’s emotions for her is hard, but not quite as hard as Leon’s dick. Makes it a little easier to forget. You press your moans into Leon’s skin, let him have them for safekeeping.

Her footsteps pound back into the room. You don't know what she's done that's so funny, but Leon shakes with a laugh. You move to look, and his palm pressing against your cheek stops you. Something clatters onto the dining room table, a heavy thunk and buckles. He presses a light kiss to the crown of your head, strokes your hair.

"Go ahead and finish up, baby. Doin' so good. All yours."

It's all the permission you really need. It doesn’t take long - you’re good for him, after all. So good, you don't even need his help. You just need him to hold you up when that slow heat finally expands, spreads like fire through your limbs and leaves you making a mess of his lap, baptizing his cock with your release and moaning hymns for him.

You slump against him, eyes heavy and limbs loose. Your head nestles against his chest, his heart hammering like crazy. Poor guy. So patient. So sweet. You want to offer to take care of that for him - he's still inside you, sitting so still and so good, the stretch all you need. It feels like a bomb went off in your skull, though, scattered all your thoughts around the apartment. You need a moment before you can be considerate, before you can formulate any kind of offer. You reach up, pat his cheek gently to tell him how good he made you feel, lazily kiss at the hollow of his throat.

Jill's got plenty of words, though. She's not the one who just fell apart.

"You so needy you can't wait forty-five minutes?"

"Closer to an hour," Leon counters, and for the first time you hear the strain in his voice. "More like two, actually."

Jill’s irritation boils over. "Shut up. Why don't you go jerk off in the corner?"

After all, he's supposed to be on her side. He's the one who knows what this life is like, the one who knows what their work entails and the stress of it all.

He's also the one who texts when he's running late. He's the one still on active deployment, the one who hadn't been dodging home like the plague. He got over himself a year ago, figured ways to deal with his emotions that didn’t include running as fast as he could, drinking until they drowned, or working himself to the bone.

Jill’s still working on that part. Again - saint-like patience.

“Maybe I will,” he says, casual as he can. He jostles you in his arms. He’d say it’s to keep you awake, but it’s mostly to keep his dick hard. You pulse around him, groan into his t-shirt and drool a little dark patch onto his shirt.

You’re all soft and pliable when her hands slide up your sides, fingers curling in the spaces between your ribs. You lean back to her, longing for the softness of her tits under your head, and you glide back through the air unsupported, like you’ve faded through the ghost of her. Your head lolls back, pretty, pathetic pout on your swollen lips.

“Gonna be good?” She asks, staring down her nose at you, eyes half lidded. You nod your head. Her eyes narrow. “Words.”

“Yes, ma’am.”

Shifting you off of Leon's lap is a group effort, one that Leon doesn't particularly care to be too enthusiastic about. His poor dick is lonely, and fucking his fist is a poor substitute for the sticky warmth of your cunt. Jill cradles you in here arms - the first hint of tenderness you've had from her all night - and settles you on the floor in front of the couch. She kicks your legs into position, sways back to appraise your form, and gives you a long-suffering sigh that's a far cry from approval.

"Whatever," she mutters under her breath. "It'll do. Don't move."

She shuffles off to the side. You hear the rustle of fabric. You turn your head to look, and -

"I said don't fuckin' move."

Your head snaps to the front again, hands fisted against the tops of your thighs. No arguing with that tone. Your back is ramrod straight. There's movement to your right, and Leon finally comes into view, settling against the far side of the couch. He's at least kind enough to give you a show, stroking his cock for you in long, slow strokes, massaging his palm over that shiny red tip and sliding his own fluid down to squeeze at the base. Makes your mouth water just looking at him.

Not that you have to wait long for a treat. Jill finishes her prep work, drags herself back over to the couch and drops down in front of you, strap-on making you go crosseyed.

“Go on,” she sighs, waving her hand lazily. Like she’s doing you a favor.

And she is. It’s a privilege to suck her strap.

You rock onto your knees and take too much of her at once, gag yourself right off the bat in your eagerness. They both groan, Jill in exasperation, Leon because holy fuck, if he hears you make that noise again he's going to blow his load immediately. His hand shucks his t-shirt up. He's not trying to stain this shirt with cum. Not his cum, anyway.

"Your mouth is so perfect for this," Jill says, leaning forward and fisting a hand in your hair, "and you're still so bad at it. Do I have to show you how to do everything?"

You nod uselessly, tears pricking the corners of your eyes. Jill rolls her eyes, smothers the hint of a smile that threatens to twist her lips up. She guides your head back to the head of her silicone cock and sets an easy pace for you. Lets you take it nice and slow, get accustomed to the weight of her cock on your tongue as if you haven't done this a hundred times - as if she knows you went too hard right off the bat just to get her to guide you like this.

"There you go," she drones, the praise feeling like anything but. You bob your head freely, her hand in your hair just a suggestion now. "Finally figured it out. Not as dumb you look."

You push further, tucking your thumb tight in your fist and gagging only a little when the head of her cock prods at the back of your throat. Leon's hips buck into his fist, quick and rhythmless, swearing under his breath. His leg kicks out, nudges Jill's calf and you swear she's going to snap at him.

Your eyes cut from Jill to Leon, a tear rolling down your cheek, and that’s the final push that has him cumming all over his stomach, head tipped back into the arm of the couch, pretty moans so loud, so perfect that it makes you feel your heartbeat in your pussy.

You don’t have time to savor the way that he looks, paint him in your mind and hang it up on the walls around your skull like a pin-up. Jill lifts you off her cock, stuffing her hands under your armpits like you’re a stray kitten. You would be, for her, if she asked. Let her slip a pretty collar around your neck, hope you’re lucky enough that it’s got a bell.

She doesn’t wait for Leon to recover, just manhandles the pair of you so your back is pressed to his chest, his cum smearing against your skin. Leon’s got that loose limbed laziness that comes with a release that built-up.

“Hold her,” Jill growls. “Stop fucking around.”

Leon's hands curled around the back of your thighs, spreading you wide for Jill. A warm chuckle rumbles through his chest and pours into you. His head ducks down, mouth by your ear.

“She's mad ‘cause I had you first.”

You turn your head, stifle your giggles in his shoulder. The silicone head of Jill's cock slides through your sopping folds, nudging at your clit. Her hips rock agonizingly slow. It’s tough to tell whether she’s teasing you or herself at this point, but your sensitive body twitches and jerks with every pass of her spit-slick cock.

“Gonna make a mess?” Her hand grips your jaw tight, pulling your face from Leon's shoulder. It’s less a question and more a demand. You nod as best you can in her grip, remember too late to try and bumble out words. She taps your cheek twice, hard enough to sting, hard enough to make those pretty eyes water again.

Jill doesn’t wait for you to say it. She enters you in a quick, jerky thrust, no hint of warning, your breath stuttering and back tensing. She rabbits her dick into you, your moans falling as staccato as her pace. Her head bows to spit a fat glob of spit onto your clit. Her fingers rub you frantically, a pace so at odds with the slow push and grind of her hips that it makes you burn. You try to squirm back, the way your blood starts to singe a little too quick for your liking, but there's nowhere to go when you're pressed so tight against Leon's broad chest.

His hand slithers up and over the point of your hip, pressing down firmly just below your navel. Betrayal. You thought he was on your side. Your whining sharpens into a moan that has to have rattled the windows. Jill huffs a laugh, low and cruel. She pulls back just far enough to leave you wanting - and when you claw at her shoulders to drag her back home she's already moving, hard and slow, the light dancing in front of your eyes, her hips driving the breath out of your lungs, your chest caving in. It feels like you've imploded, blood on fire, singeing your bones and leaving the ash to remember it by.

She’s not done. You promised her a mess. Your voice is splintered, her hips still driving into you. You don’t feel yourself gushing around her until it’s already happening. You sniffle, your moans choppy and your tears falling quick, humiliation warming the embers in your stomach. Her pace slows and finally stills, finally lets you find yourself in the pile of ashes.

"Already?" Jill mocks, hands rubbing your quivering thighs soft and sweet despite the way she sneers.

You want to scoff, but you haven’t got the breath. Already, she says, like she hadn’t just ripped that orgasm out of you fast enough that you’ve got cartoon tweety-birds spinning around your head.

“My turn,” Leon pipes up.

“Fuck off. You’re not even hard. I'm just getting started.”

“Shoulda thought about that before you made her cum.”

God, they’re like lions fighting over a piece of meat. You push yourself up on shaky arms, give Jill your best gazelle-trying-not-to-get-eaten pout.

“M’tired,” you slur, your brains thoroughly fucked out. You form a T with your hands, calling for a time-out. “Need a break.”

Jill looks like she wants to bite anyway. But you were good, used your good girl hand signal and everything. She sighs, her shoulders slumping, and loosens the straps around her hips.

“C’mere, pumpkin.” Leon gathers you into his arms easily. “Gonna get you all cleaned up. Tuck your ass in.”

You ache when he moves you, in places you weren’t quite sure could ache. It’ll be worse later. Always is. They always have to fuck you at some weird angle. Can’t ever let your muscles get used to it, like you’re some kind of glorified exercise equipment. At least they wipe you down after they use you. Very polite of them.

Leon hands you your water bottle and settles in behind you, slotting up against your back. He’s got the both of you cleaned off even though he seems just as tired as you, bless him. Say a prayer to the patron saint of the bedroom.

Jill found dinner, apparently. You hear the microwave beeping distantly and share an amused look with Leon. Sure enough, she’s got a bowl of food in her hand when she settles at the end of the bed, legs crossed.

The silence lays somewhere in-between battlefields, landmines hidden all around your bedroom. Everything you want to ask is too loaded, too heavy. You’re not even sure you have the energy to stay up for a serious conversation, much less an argument. Jill looks so soft right now, the bags under her eyes seeming lighter in the warm lamplight of your bedroom. You don’t want to see her eyes sharpen. You don’t want to hear her teeth click together when she bites back her words. You search for some other topic, something that will make the tension evident in her shoulders melt away.

"We should do one of those clone-a-willy kits," you murmur, eyes shut, head tipped into the pillow. You open your eyes just enough to gauge her reaction. Warmth blooms in your chest when you see her eyes crinkle and her smile lines deepen.

"Why?" Jill laughs.

"You don't wanna fuck me with Leon’s dick?"

It’s the first time you’ve heard Jill laugh like that in a while. Pride spreads in your tired little grin. Leon's cock gives a tired twitch against your thigh. He groans, pressing his forehead to your shoulder blade.

“You two are gonna fuckin’ kill me.”

#leon kennedy x reader #jill valentine x reader #resident evil smut #resident evil imagine #leon kennedy smut #jill valentine smut #resident evil x reader #x reader #resident evil #jill valentine #leon kennedy

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thelov3lybookworm · 1 month ago

Text

Soon, My Love.

Summary: Eris never thought he would be much of a poet, but being with Y/n has proved him wrong.

•○●⛦●○•

Word Count: 1845

Warnings: hints of beron being a meanie, curse words ig, uhh and a beaten up eris :( uhhh also its kinda cheesy ngl lmaoo

A/n: yall these two are adorable i cant omg 🥺 again, ily all soo much for everything🥹

anyways, enjoy!

P.S BERRY ILY THANK YOU FOR HELPING ME AND LETTING ME YAP (yes i will say this in every days post leave me alone)

p.p.s: this is again based on an indian song....

°•°•°•○🌑○•°•°•°

It was one of those days again. The high lord was mad again, and his eldest son had once again been dragged to the dungeon.

No one talked about why he was taken to the dungeon so often, nor did anyone question why he always ended up locked in his quarters with healers at hand for days after.

But everyone knew why.

He was beaten.

Like some training dummy, he was always dragged to the dungeon by his father to be beaten to a pulp, within an inch of death before being tossed back to his rooms.

No one was allowed to enter his chambers after these beating sessions, but being a maid, Y/n was let in to clean his room.

Being a maid, she was underestimated. After all, what would a lowly servant do? Heal the wounds faster? Give him the things he was deprived of? Love and comfort?

Yes, yes she would.

He had been summoned by the high lord a few hours before, so Y/n knew it was time for her to go check up on her lover.

She had heard through some of the older servants that Eris had been taken to his room moments prior, and that the healer seemed more calm than usual. It in turn calmed Y/n, knowing Eris’s condition was probably better than any of his previous beatings.

Broom in hand, she scurried through the winding corridors, her head hanging, her shoulders curved inwards as she knocked on his chamber doors. The door swung open, and the healer's assistant let Y/n in. Quietly, she began her work, trying to peek into the bedchambers.

She was rewarded.

He was naked from the waist up, bruises littering his torso, decorating his face. It made Y/n’s heart thud in pain, watching him hurt. But this was still better than him being covered in blood, unable to move without assistance.

"My lord, are you sure you don’t want me to heal-"

"Are you deaf, Wood?"

The healer’s mouth shut with an audible click, and moments later, he was shuffling out of the bedroom into the sitting area, his assistant hot on his heels as they left, closing the door behind them.

Y/n released a sigh, then leaned the broom against the closest wall before she entered Eris’s bedchamber.

His eyes met her, instantly lighting up, a barely noticeable tilt to his lips.

"How are you?"

He shrugged like she was asking him about the weather and not his health. "Been through worse."

She gave him a stern look. "Can you never answer like a normal person?"

"Am I a normal person?" She shook her head, tired of his antics as she stepped closer, now within touching distance. "Then I suppose I can’t."

Y/n sighed, eyeing the healing bruises on his face, under his eyes, on his jaw, his cheeks.

Her hands were shaking, but she tried to force them to still as she reached up, gingerly touching the black-blue spots.

He hissed, and she jerked back, tears in her eyes.

"Does it hurt?" She whispered, vision blurring.

"I told you, Y/n, I’ve been through worse. I’ll survive-"

"But I won’t!"

He leaned back like he’d been slapped, his eyes fixed on her. She huffed, angrily swiping at her cheeks, cursing the damned tears that rolled down the expanse of skin.

She cursed herself for already crying.

"How long, Eris? When is he going to stop?"

Eris swallowed. "My love, It’s not that easy to kill him-"

"I know that, Eris. But I can't see you getting hurt every other day. Can’t see you get beat over nothing. I- I just can’t."

Y/n sniffled, her hands roving over the multiple bruises on his torso, avoiding his gaze.

"Y/n." His fingers reached up to cup her jaw, lifting her head, the other one reaching out to grab one of her shaking hands. "I know, my heart. I know it pains you to see me hurt, but there is nothing I can do by myself. I have to wait for my allies to formulate their plan, so I can have aid-"

"And when are they going to be done formulating their plan?"

The vanserra sighed, shaking his head. "They say they are planning, and as much as I wish to ask them how long it is going to take, I cannot rush them."

Y/n glared at her secret lover. "I swear to the mother if they don’t get that bastard to his designated hell soon, I will."

Slowly, a grin spread across his inviting lips, and Y/n surged forward, burying her head in the crook of his neck. "I want you to be happy, Eris. I just want you to live freely, without worrying whether breathing a little too loud will get you in trouble."

"I know, sweetheart, I know."

He pulled her closer. As close as he could while sitting on the table, his legs swinging as she stood between them.

Eris pressed his lips to the crown of her head, sighing.

"Soon, my love, soon."

She nodded against his skin, closing her eyes.

"And when he’s gone, I can finally let the whole world know I belong to you." He teased, his breath tickling her ear.

Y/n giggled in response, pulling away as she slapped his chest. She met his gaze, the warmth, the happiness in them warming her insides.

Even the sight of him simply smiling brought her indescribable happiness. She did not know what she would do when he actually found the happiness he deserved, without restraints.

Watching him now, she was reminded of the lines in a poem she had once read in a book when she was younger, the book as worn and loved as the lines were to her.

I laugh when you sing,

I cry when you wither away,

I get drenched in the shower of your love, my love.

She had not understood how someone else’s emotions could affect the other’s happiness so much, but now as she stared at those eyes she could hardly breathe without, she understood.

She used to think being in love would be like finding yourself someone to come home to. Someone to kiss and hug and live with.

But oh how wrong she was.

Love was so much more than that.

It was having someone to tend to your wounds, someone who would do everything for you just to see that flash of happiness in your eyes.

It was waking up to a warm world on the coldest winter night, it was the first sun after long days of rain, it was the first spring flowers after a long desolate season of grey.

It was knowing that your heart, mind and soul no longer belonged just to you, and still being happy to share yourself with someone else for the sole reason that you trusted this other being.

It was knowing happiness after a lifetime of suffering, it was peace after a century of restlessness.

It was hugging Eris, giggling after long days of sobbing together.

Soon, he had said.

"I’ll go now, or someone is bound to come looking."

Eris’s mood instantly soured. He grumbled under his breath, but Y/n only laughed, standing on her tiptoes as she pressed her lips to his cheek.

"I’ll see you later, hmm?"

He nodded, his sad eyes following her back, his lingering gaze like a soft caress as she closed the door behind her.

Soon.

°•°•°•○🌑○•°•°•°

Everything stopped in a moment,

When you held my hand with yours .

I shall follow wherever you are going.

You’re always by my side when I look,

I am the season and you’re the breeze, Sweetheart.

Eris smiled, leaning back as he surveyed his work. He had always been much of a literature freak, but he had never thought his love for reading poems would then turn him into a poet too. He could write poetry, sure, but he had never had the desperate urge to.

But maybe that’s what love does to a person.

Ever since he’d met the shy little baker on the outskirts of town, he had begun writing poetry in hopes it would help him decipher the unknown beating of his heart, the different rhythm he had never experienced before, the unnatural warmth that made his whole body tingle every time she even blinked his way.

Of course, he had been right in that it helped him understand what this feeling was.

He just didn’t think he would be in love when he started.

You gave me all the colours of love,

And pulled me towards yourself,

Let’s get lost somewhere,

Where the time shall stop forever,

And tomorrow never comes, Sweetheart.

The day he had confessed his love- however unexpected- had been the happiest day in his life.

He’d had a nightmare that morning, of Beron finding out about the bakery his son had been frequenting a little too much for it to be considered normal. He had jerked up in his bed, panting and trying to hold back his sobs.

He had decided then that he would have to either stop visiting without letting her know his feelings, or he would have to stop visiting after confessing his feelings.

He knew which he preferred.

So he had gone to a jeweller early in the morning, picked two rings, and then ran to the quaint little building.

Y/n had been surprised when he had shown up to her doorstep, huffing as he begged her to follow him to the nearby forest because he wanted to talk, but after a lot of pleading, she had agreed.

That day, he had asked her to marry him. He had slipped the ring onto her finger, and then told her he would have to stop meeting her because it would then put her life in danger.

The next week, as he was strolling through the palace lawn, he had spied a new maid.

He had been over the moon that day, catching himself smiling at times when no one was present.

That day, Eris had made a vow to himself.

If you want, I’ll give you a million dreams,

If you’re happy then so am I

And as he had watched her leave, just a few hours prior, he had decided that maybe, rushing his allies would not be too bad.

Fuck waiting, he was tired of watching her eyes flash with sadness everytime he had to tell her that she would have to continue watching him get tortured every time his father threw a temper tantrum.

So he had written a letter just after she left, telling Rhysand to, basically, get his shit together or their deal was off.

If they wouldn’t help him kill his bastard of a father, then he would do it himself, consequences be damned.

He had promised himself that he would do anything to make her happy, and so he would.

Even if it forced him to choke his father to death.

°•°•°•○🌑○•°•°•°

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ma1dita · 10 months ago

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buddy system

a ‘partners in crime’ installment - luke castellan x dionysus!reader

words: 4.2k

summary: (pre-established relationship) The one where he comes with you to rescue your twin brothers, Pollux and Castor. A weekend 'quest' teaches you a lot about Luke, and about yourself too. Luke Castellan x fem!Dionysus!reader

a/n: um i cant apologize for this word count and ive been looking at this for too long so fuck. Anyways do yall think Luke felt bad when he found out Castor died in battle because of his army in this universe? just me?? okay :) also trouble gets a cool magic item that makes an appearance here, kinda works like polyjuice but with smoke

(posted 2/7/24 betad by lovely ellie @lixzey might edit again when i get some sleep)

—

“No. You might be my father, but you’re crazy, man!”

You’re standing in D’s office at the Big House, and what was supposed to be a short talk before the counselors’ meeting has turned into a full-blown argument. It’s hard to focus on anything other than the words leaving your godrent’s mouth.

You’re going to pick up your little brothers.

“Those two statements are both true, kid. You’re old enough to understand that!”

They need your help.

“You’re really letting your 16-year-old daughter drive down to Florida by herself to pick up some kids she’s never met? Won’t even send me with any quest companions, or like, Grover?” you say exasperatedly, before slumping down into a seat.

“Think of it as family bonding! They’re great from what I remember. You all need to get along anyway.”

Whether it was jealousy or the sudden urge to be petty, you impulsively grab your dad’s Diet Coke and chug it, crushing the can with your fist as a tiny act of rebellion.

Another one appears on the desk and you chuck it over your shoulder. Mr. D sighs as he conjures another one, to which you do the same thing.

“I can do this all day, kid.”

“So can I, and you know if I do, we’ll be sitting here until I’m 40,” you say expectantly, tapping your fingers on the hardwood surface of his desk.

“What do you want?”

The keys to his car are a start, as well as extra pocket money—but there was something, or rather, someone missing to make sure this weekend goes as smoothly as possible.

Your smirk widens at your father, and he wonders when you’ve gotten good at playing his own game.

It’s like looking into a mirror but his worst nightmare manifested as a teenage girl.

—

There are only two things Luke can think about when he hears the sound of your laughter.

The first is that, unlike your angelic singing that could rival the Muses, your laughter takes after the sound of a maniac, an incredulous crescendo that only something curated by Hades in the deepest pits of Tartarus could produce. It was almost madness-inducing, and it went off in his brain like you were a siren (although he means the kind used for weather advisory, he too gets lured in by your laughter each time he hears it like a sailor lost at sea).

Second, as he watches you storm down the lawn of the Big House, your anger brewing something comparable to a Category 5, he raises an eyebrow and thinks, well this ought to be good. Or entertaining at the very least.

“You,” you growl at him, guttural and sharp like the finger you jab into his chest, “we’re going on a quest!”

“Me?” Luke blurts, eyebrows furrowing at you.

A loud groan echoes through the grassy space between the house and the counselors as everyone looks up to see Mr. D dragging his hands down his face at the sheer thought of his daughter causing him more gray hairs.

“That’s not what we agreed on, kid!” “If you want any of your children to come back to this hellhole in one piece I need backup!” “There’s more of you?”

Both you and your dad glare at Luke now, like he’s interrupting a private conversation.

“Since when do you like asking for help, princess?”

Mr. D’s arms are crossed over his chest as he speaks to you. Though your height severely differs due to the wooden steps of the Big House, the air is palpable with fear only an Olympian could invoke, reminding the counselors that the man wearing the ugliest Hawaiian shirt known to humankind, is in fact inhuman. You, however, are standing tall in the freshly-cut grass in your combat boots with wrath that could rival Ares’ as you stare your father down like the rest of them wouldn’t get struck into the next lifetime due to your impertinence, as Annabeth loves to call it. She looks up at Luke, with her eyes conveying that she thinks you must be clinically insane, but he knows that already, so he shrugs.

“I’m not asking for it, I’m demanding it. Besides, he’s like my ESA,” you say, then taking Luke by surprise as you grab him by the wrist and drag him off the front lawn. You think you can hear Beckendorf and Clarisse bite back chuckles.

“Someone tell Rodriguez he’s in charge of 11!” you yell into the air, and words of affirmation and good luck are muttered in response.

“Don’t I get a say in this, Trouble?” Luke says playfully, tugging at your arm lightly but unresisting as you sigh and pull him along. Who in their right mind says no to a long weekend away from this place? Monsters and demigods be damned.

“No. Besides, they’re gonna need more luck than we do.”

“Liam, I don’t know why she trusts you, but if my daughter dies, I’ll make sure you’re next!” Mr. D yells out to your retreating figures, and all of the counselors turn to face him realizing that without you, well… that means he actually has to be in charge.

“So what’s the meeting supposed to be about, Annabelle?” Mr. D says, looking at Annabeth only knowing that she’s supposed to be the smart one—and the small girl sighs.

This is gonna be the longest weekend yet.

—

You’re speeding down I-95 with the windows down and the wind brushing through both of your hair. While Luke watches you from the passenger seat with road signs blurring past his periphery, he also notices that it’s the first time in a while that he’s seen you this carefree. Both of you took up counselor positions a few months ago, and your dad appointed you to be in charge of all of them (because why have a counselor for a population of one), so there’s a lot about you that’s grown up in the two years you two have known each other. But what type of demigod gets to enjoy their childhood anyway, right? Luke can only remember bits and pieces of his.

“How do you even know where we’re going? I can barely read the signs,” he asks.

“Cool blessing from my stepmom. Ariadne’s chill. We talk sometimes and she likes that I keep D in check, so now I can never get lost,” you grin toothily, violet eyes flickering to meet his.

“Was it true what your dad said? That you trust me?”

His voice is a bit louder than it should be over the wind tunnel that blocks out the sound of the radio as the air whips in and out of the car.

“Well, I wouldn't say trust,” you drag out, leaning back against your seat with your eyes still on the road, “More like if I got abducted by a harpy, I think you could cut its wings off and give me a fighting chance at living.”

“I’m surprised you didn’t invite Mason to come,” he mumbles, and you smirk, pretending not to hear.

“Who?”

His hands are clenched in his lap as a blush brushes his cheeks, windswept in the rays of the late summer sun.

“Your boyfriend. Wouldn’t he be a better companion?”

Something about the older son of Apollo always ground his gears. It was even worse that you both would sing Broadway musicals together during his sparring sessions. Your harmonious voices echoing from the amphitheater aside, the repetitive grating feeling in his stomach reminds him not to go see Hamilton if he ever makes it out to the city.

“He’s not…” you huff, tapping your fingers on the steering wheel as you think hard on what to say next, “He’s nothing serious.” You pull the sun visor down as you squint, tilting your head in case he says something else, but you hear nothing. Luke’s staring at your side profile, unable to hide his grin at the new information, biting his cheek.

“Besides, he’s a fucking terrible shot. And you’re supposed to be the best, so I’ve heard. Who else would I want on this trip with me?”

He chuckles at this lightly, your words bolstering his ego.

“So you’ve heard.”

And for a second, the sight of his smile distracts you enough that the car swerves a tiny bit closer to the median. You both ignore it and keep driving.

—

Hypnos increases his hold on your senses as you finally take a break somewhere in North Carolina, taking refuge in a dimly lit corner of a gas station parking lot. The old car reeks of greasy fast food and all the sugar Luke could get his hands on at rest stops (it was really cute to see him indulge in more normal things like sweets instead of swordsmanship), and both of your seats are leaned back, but it’s hard to get comfortable after having your butt in the same seat for several hours.

You readjust yourself again, making the car shake a bit as you turn over to face Luke.

“What’s wrong?” he mumbles through closed eyes. His head’s banged against the window one too many times, and it was starting to get annoying.

“Sorry. Just can’t sleep. Thinking too hard.”

He sighs, reaching over to toss your pillow into the backseat, and as you sit up, he rips your blanket off of you too.

“Hey!”

You go silent when you watch him make a makeshift bed for you, turning back with tired eyes as he gestures, “Go ahead. I don’t mind.”

“I feel bad, Luke. You’re taller than me and your knees almost hit the dashboard.”

He rubs at his eyes, looking at you impatiently, and you know his body is calling for comfort too.

“I’ve slept in worse conditions, you gotta remember that, Trouble.” The stories Annie used to tell you about the both of them sleeping on the streets pull at your heart, and as you crawl towards the back, you move before you think rationally–tugging on his arm.

“Come on over here.”

“You sure?” “Before I change my mind, yeah.”

You both move around trying to find a place both of you can be comfortable in, first starting with your heads at opposite windows, legs tangling in the middle before he laughs a little too hard at your fumbling and you launch your pillow at his face. Awkwardly, you climb over his legs into his outstretched arms, slotting yourself against his side as he pulls your hair up from getting trapped between his shoulder and your back.

It’s deadly quiet, and Luke thinks if you could move any closer to him, you might hear his heart thundering in his chest.

“You smell like french fries,” you grumble into his sweater, and his laughter shakes you like an earthquake, uprooting the faint traces of sleep in your mind.

“At least the monsters won’t find us. Gonna be harder when the twins get here. A lot of demigod smell to ward off.”

You don’t answer, and he thinks you may have fallen asleep until he notices your hand playing with the frays of his sweater.

“Trouble?”

“They’re really little,” you mumble, so low that he barely hears the hesitance in your voice.

“The monsters? Yeah, I fucking ho–” “Pollux and Castor. My…half-siblings, with really Greek names, and a mom that depends on me getting them to camp safely…” you trail off before your head jerks up to meet his eyes. It’s colder at night now, your bodies and the tiny throw blanket from your trunk providing ample heat even if his socked feet fight their way out from underneath.

“How old are they, nine?” He feels you nod against his chest before he continues, “I was nine when I left home.”

Your eyes get glassy at the thought of a smaller version of Luke, one who’s not all gangly legs and lean muscle—one much softer and innocent than the boy you lean your weight upon, running away from home to find a place he can belong.

“I didn’t know that. I’m sorry.”

He shrugs, the arm propped against the headrest wrapping around you and resting on your hip, tapping you to continue your previous thought.

“I don’t know how to do this, I guess. I’m ripping them from their home and I—” “You’re not some kind of monster y’know? You put yourself down too much sometimes,” he sighs, and he watches the windows slowly start to fog up, “What don’t you know how to do?”

Ignoring his question, you change the subject hoping to talk about something lighter, and far less revealing to the thoughts inside your head.

“Do you remember all of that? Going to school and chalking up the sidewalks on the way home, hopscotch and ice cream trucks… I don’t want to take them away from that.”

Luke ponders, digging through his brain for anything happy from his childhood, but through the years his memories started to collect dust in the back of his mind.

“I don’t remember much.”

“Gods, I’m sorry…”

Mason had told you of your habit of putting your foot in your mouth. You dealt in extremes, giving too much or too little, always saying the wrong thing—and it was the reason why things didn’t go further with the son of Apollo. As well as with the daughter of Aphrodite you saw briefly that told you you didn’t know how to love, not if you didn’t know how to share yourself with others (yeah that one hurt a lot).

Sharing.

That’s what you’re hesitant about.

“Don’t be. It was a long time ago now,” Luke mumbles, a beat of silence passing before he redirects the conversation like you did, “What don’t you know how to do, Trouble?”

“How to share. Be a sibling. Someone likeable, I guess.”

Luke doesn’t mean to laugh at your expense, but he does, and you punch his stomach hard enough he gasps for air.

“That’s the stupidest thing I’ve ever heard. Everyone likes you.”

“Everyone’s usually scared of me because of D, or hates me because I take dessert privileges and write them up,” you say matter-of-factly, staring out the window above his head at the gentle shine of the moon on his features. It’s a crime for him to look so soft under the low light, and you realize you’re staring when he calls your name.

“No, you don’t get it—you’re the most selfless person I know. You give up sleep to sing to kids before bed, conjure juice boxes so they don’t pass out during training—I’ve seen you carry a kid almost as tall as you across camp because they broke their ankle. You’ve got a lot of love in that twisted heart of yours. I’d know… I mean—I have to share a lot… so I’m basically an expert.”

You blink at him as if seeing him in a new light, and you realize then why you picked him to go on this weekend quest with you. Your heartbeat slows despite the show of vulnerability in front of him, and you understand now that Luke makes you feel safe. Biting your lip to hold back a sigh, you decide to just unload the rest of your thoughts, knowing that you’re in the hands of someone who wants to hold the weight. “I’m just used to being alone, I think. I mean who knows what we're like when we're alone but us, right? What a terrifying thought,” you deflect, and Luke closely watches the slope of your nose, down to the smoothness of your lips, unable to put the right words to how he’s feeling.

I know you, he thinks, and it's not as all bad as you make it seem.

“We’re never truly alone, y’know. Besides, even if you are, you still have me,” he says nonchalantly, and the warmth on your cheeks could generate enough heat to run the car for miles. Chuckling lightly as your eyes flutter closed, you know you need to rest before morning comes since you’re the only one between the two of you that can drive.

You reckon you’ll teach Luke by the end of the year if he wants to.

“We’re getting pretty terrible at this enemies thing, Castellan,” you jest with nothing hard to back it, and a smile falls onto both of your lips.

“We were never really enemies, Trouble. I just like getting on your nerves.”

Your laughs fall silent, settling into a comfortable silence, until his next words send you off into slumber as you listen.

“I remember my mom singing in the kitchen as she put peanut butter on my sandwiches. She'd act like she left the dishes out for me to wash, but let me lick the knife clean every time and I’d put too much soap and the sink would be filled with bubbles. I don't remember much else but that. Her kitchen. She smelled like…chamomile.”

A wandering hand pulls his free one into yours, holding it until sunrise.

—

You push Pollux and Castor out the door before the sun rises after a short stay at their mother’s house, and as the engine heats up, you and Luke watch them say goodbye to her with the both of you thinking of last words with your own. You ward off the hellhounds biting off at your heels for a few hours like how you deceived the police the day previous, with a purple Zippo lighter in hand (the smoke grants temporary illusions through any space you blow it into, and it smells like grapes---thanks D!). The kids sleep most of the way, none the wiser and heavy with sleep and their emotions of leaving everything they’ve ever known. Your eyes flicker to their sleeping heads in the rearview mirror every so often, ready to take them home.

Hours later, Luke decides to make you stop at a diner to get you a bit of rest, get actual food, and let the twins pee, and your head is bobbing slightly in front of your plate of food once he brings them back from the bathroom.

“You wash your hands?” you say tiredly, both Pollux and Castor shaking wet hands in your face in response, making you giggle before sipping at your coffee. Luke cut you off from Redbull yesterday, saying he was scared for your liver and saying you needed to drink something else for a bit. He bristles at the sight of you drinking more caffeine, and you smile as the mug touches your lips.

“You’re gonna kill yourself one day. At least your dad drinks Diet Coke.”

“Not by choice, though what a way to go!” you joke, and the twins giggle as the both of them gulp down root beer like it’s essential to their being. Luke sighs at the idea of you having two minions under your belt, who you’ll most definitely train to raise hell on Camp Half-Blood now that you’ve taken more of the administrative side of things.

“Is he your boyfriend, sissy?” Pollux, or maybe it’s Castor pipes up, swinging his legs under the table and you smile at the sound of the nickname, noticing the dimple in his cheek. Luke chokes on his burger, coughing until you elbow him.

“He’s more of my ESA,” you remark, and he still doesn’t know what that is, so he raises an eyebrow like your brothers do as they peer up at you from across the table.

“What’s an ESA?” Castor, you realize, who has no dimples, spits out behind munches of a pickle.

“Luke’s my emotional support animal.”

He eats the rest of your fries despite your confidence in that response, grumbling exactly how a resistant dog would.

As you’re paying the bill, a large shadow looms over the sunny disposition of everyone at your table—and then Luke shouts for everyone to cover their eyes. Glass shatters over you, revealing a hellhound the size of a minivan, and it pounces toward the twins, large teeth bared at their throats. Before Luke can pull his sword out, you whistle sharply and the sound whizzes through the air like a bullet as you toss the Zippo lighter at him as he’s pushing the kids to the car. Though he’s reluctant to lose sight of you, he covers them with an illusion, locking the doors despite their cries running headfirst back into battle and towards to you, with your thyrsus and him with his sword, back to back.

“They okay?” you heave, jabbing at the red-eyed canine between the eyes as Luke pulls around to slash it across the neck, coming out of the tussle unscathed as you both watch it keel over at your feet into golden dust minutes later.

“Yeah. Are you?”

Though you originally found it funny, Luke does perform his job well, getting you to calm down as he holds you to his chest until you can breathe normally again.

“Mhm. Just scared me.”

The two of you run out of the destroyed diner and into the warded-off car before the police show up, hand in hand as you escape without detection. As he falls asleep, Castor dreams that you two are Bonnie and Clyde like in an old Western movie he was definitely not old enough to watch.

—

You’re finally back on the Island now, only an hour away from Montauk and Luke is getting restless in the passenger seat. He pulls apples out of his backpack, wiping them off with his shirt as you sing along to a Taylor Swift song playing on the radio.

And maybe someday when we’re older, this is something we’ll laugh about…. Foolish one… you hum, tapping the wheel to fight off your exhaustion.

Pollux and Castor are using their fingers to pretend to hop over obstacles in the smudged windows, babbling about something they did in class last week. The son of Hermes pulls out a pocketknife he nicked from a gas station this morning as he starts to cut the apples into pieces, putting some into a ziploc bag for the boys to share, and you smile at him, wistful at your trip nearing its finish line. If you weren’t enemies before this like he said, it’s crazy to consider him your closest friend.

But he is, isn’t he?

His knuckles nudge yours over the console, pressing an apple slice into your palm.

“You know, Castellan, you’re sweet when you want to be. Shame you and that sister of Annie’s didn’t work out.”

Luke scoffs at the reminder of his ex, slicing another piece off for you to eat. She did say he had wandering eyes…always looking for you. He’s not going to admit that though.

“I just know you like your apples cut. Saw you battling it out with a butter knife last week. Couldn’t help but notice,” he says lowly like it’s normal for people to be that considerate about others, normal for him to care about you like that, a constant push and pull between you two.

“Hurts my teeth,” you mutter, and Luke chortles like you’ve told him something life-changing. Your hand bumps into his again, feeling nothing but his calloused fingers, and when you look up his cheek protrudes with the last slice.

“Tax,” he winks, and you’re delirious with this feeling that only he can bring you, almost comparable to being high.

The popstar’s voice continues to trill in the background, with my head in my hands, saying “How could I not see the signs?”

You both don’t realize you’ve stopped singing until Pollux pipes up asking for you to play Fireball by Mr. 305 himself.

—

The car finally pulls into the driveway of the forest path and you’re all greeted by the campers holding blazing lanterns. Chiron, your father, and the nymphs are waving as the twins marvel at the fairy lights strung up along the way for a warm welcome.

“You’re alive,” your dad remarks, and this time he doesn’t say it in jest, sounding more relieved.

“I was in good hands,” you affirm, looking up at Luke amongst the noise of your cheering friends and the feeling that comes with calling this place home.

The boys are tucked in at your side, shyly looking at the crowd, Pollux holding your hand while Castor holds onto Luke’s, and Chiron calls your attention.

“I know you didn’t get your official announcement,” he starts, and you laugh at that, remembering the bubbles in the lake.

“Because I pulled a fast one on D.”

“Nonetheless, I would love for you to get recognized for your efforts. Dionysus. Storyteller, Herald of Chaos,” he continues by announcing your name, and then,” Pollux, and Castor– children of the grapevine, the God of Wine!”

The campers are kneeling and you look at Luke, who’s smiling from the ground beside you.

“Take a picture, Trouble, it’ll last longer.”

“My children are home safe. And thank you, Castellan, for being a formidable companion. My deepest appreciation.” Mr. D sounds serious for once, pulling Luke up as he nods in respect.

It’s a crazy feeling to finally feel at home though you’ve been here for two years now. But you remind yourself quickly of why that is when you see Luke carrying Pollux on his shoulders as Castor latches onto his legs.

“You know, your family is a nightmare. You two hellions will fit right in,” he grins.

You can’t help but agree.

—

“I hadn’t told them about you, but they saw you bathing in my eyes. I hadn’t told them about you, but they saw you in my written words. The perfume of love cannot be concealed.” -Nizar Qabbani

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