#circe x reader

thank you for the request pooks and sorry if it isn't as good...

crossed paths!

pt1 pt2(still working)

pair: Telemachus x circe's nymphs! reader

author note: i kinda like the idea so i might make other hc or scenario with this idea...

note:don't worry there will be part two of this and even part 3 if y'all lucky enough to get 3 chapters out of me.

warning:non just Telemachus being a cutie.

credit: art by gigi

Y/N: *clinging onto her* I'm so sorry

Circe: It's alright, dear

Y/N: You're so strong

Circe: I know, dear

Y/N: I'll pay you back, I promise

Circe: You don't have to pay me anything, love

Y/N: You are so nice to me. Please marry me.

Characters: hermes, apollo, telemachus, and circe

Warnings: None

HERMES

• Since he doesn't sleep, considering he's a God, he'll often watch you as you struggle to sleep whilst giving you an odd look.

• When you eventually give up on the attempts of slumber, he'll ask you if you want to go on a "walk"

•his definition of a walk is flying through your city till you eventually get tired, and when you're finally sleepy, he'll set you down on your bed and let you sleep.

•he'd definitely stay with you all night unless he had any duties to attend to.

APOLLO

•Just like Hermes. He doesn't need sleep, so he'd also be up alongside you.

•he'll try to soothe you by playing songs with his lyre or reciting Haikus, maybe even write a new one on how he adores you.

•will hold you a little closer in hopes that the warmth of his skin would create a comforting atmosphere to help you go to sleep, especially during the colder nights.

• When you eventually fall asleep, he'll continue to whisper a song like a lullaby.

TELEMACHUS

• is out like a light the moment he hits the bed, especially after a long day of training with Athena. He only wakes up when he feels you move around the bed too much and asks you what's wrong.

• tries different remedies that his mother would use on his father after returning from war with PTSD.

•will hold you sweetly and whisper sweet nothings in your ear while rubbing your back until you're finally able to close your eyes and drift asleep.

• probably wasn't able to go to sleep after you did, but he doesn't mind since you're finally able to.

CIRCE

• usually takes cat naps during the day when she's not taking care of her nymphs or testing new spells so she isn't all that tired during the night.

•immediately gets up to fix up a spell to make you sleep, though you are quite sceptical about it.

•calls in her lions to act as a fluffy pillow while she cuddles up next to you. (Still trying to convince you to let her spell you.)

• When you eventually say yes to her spell, she ensures you're comfy in your position so you don't wake up feeling weird, then goes to bed next to you.

♡♡♡

♡♡♡

Content specs:

Hermes x reader, Circe x reader, entrapment?, kidnapping?, Hermes being a little shit, she/her pronouns, female reader, the word darling is abused, Eurylochus is an asshole.

I definitely wasn't inspired by Mulan...

Check the reblogs for a short continuation.

♡♡♡

You wanted to fight, you were strong, trained, strategic, and your father? He was well past his glory days. You could not, in your right mind, allow him to fight in this war, and you hadn't. For more than 10 years you'd kept your gender hidden as you fought bravely against the Trojans.

You kept a low profile, not wanting to catch any unwanted attention, you followed orders, you were ruthless on the battle field. In short you were the perfect soldier.

Then came the journey home. 10 years of war had wore you down, but you prevailed. Even when faced with the God of tides you were able to keep your identity hidden, but then came different circumstances.

You'd not gone with Eurylochus to scout out the island, having a few things to do on deck. Polites' death had left you with more tasks to complete, he used to be the one to keep track of the supplies. You missed him. You'd lost a friend and gained a shit ton of work on top of your own, one of which weighed heavier than the other.

♡♡♡

Having completed your work, you left the ship. The crew had docked at a beautiful island, it felt surprisingly serene. Your captain was only a few paces away, but clearly needed some space. The loss of the fleet weighed heavy on you, you couldn't imagine what he felt as their captain and king.

A flushed Eurylochus caught your attention. Odysseus questioned him and the answer of his state filled you with a strange sense of hope.

A woman.

You'd been at war, at sea, woth men who were not very respectful. You'd seen the atrocities done to the people who shared your gender, and had nit been able to do anything about it. But most of those men had been lost to the tides, the soldiers on Odysseus' ship were more respectful. Mainly because the captain's love for the queen allowed no room for misogyny, not on his ship.

"Not to insert myself, or speak ill of your plan, but perhaps I could speak to the witch." You interrupted their discussion.

"And what could you do to the witch, that the captain could not?" Eurylochus replied, accusingly. But the captain held up his hand, stopping the second in command from speaking any more.

"I believe she'd be more willing to hear out another woman."

"And what do you suggest we do? Dress up? Wait for one to magically fall out of the sky?"

"Shush, Eurylochus, let him speak." The captain intervened again.

"I am a woman. I'm surprised it took this long for my secret to be discovered." You state.

Odysseus smiled. "Polites was aware. He came to me about it. Concerned for your wellbeing if one of the crew members were to find out."

Your heart swelled and broke at the same time. Your greatest friend had kept the secret you weren't even aware he knew of. And so had your captain.

♡♡♡

Your captain insisted on escorting you to the palace, ready to step in if you needed him to. But an unexpected presence stopped the both of you in your tracks.

Hermes. A God you'd prayed to for safe travels, a God who'd heeded your prayers, a God who was here, in the flesh, offering a deal.

He'd help you, but dealing with Gods always came with a price. One you'd only find out if you won. How selfless.

"In the root of this flower, lies the power to take her on. Once you digest it, you'll be able to manifest a being of your creation, if you're creative enough. It'll only exist until the fight is over." The God explained. "Open up, darling, no time to waste." He said, putting his hand under her chin.

He placed the flower in her mouth and pressed it closed, swiping his thumb over her lower lip. "Chop chop, you haven't got all day." He said, giving her a lopsided smirk.

"Lady of the palace, sorry that I ask this..."

♡♡♡

The fight had gone in her favour, as had the negotiation. That was until Circe asked her: "Why would you risk your life to save these men?"

"I risk my life, not for these men, but for my captain who would not leave without them, and who has a wife and son waiting for him to return. There's nothing in this world that he wants more than the company of his beloved. I risk my life for my fallen comrades, one in particular, who's lives I do not want to end in vain. If they cannot return, they must do so for them. I risk my life, as I've nothing left to return to and I would welcome death with open arms. So I beg you, Circe, let these men free."

"I will let those men free, and I offer one thing more. Stay. You've nothing to return to, so why suffer trying to get to a home that's no longer yours. Why suffer the wrath of Poseidon for a wrongdoing not of your own? Stay with me and my nymphs, we will treat you well. You'll no longer have to fear a man's selfishness."

"No can do little witch, she's made a deal with me. Isn't that right, darling." A familiar, but unexpected voice interrupted.

"Hermes, so you're the one who aided her? I should've known." Circe mused. "Very well, but if you are ever free of this deal, know you are welcome here, love." The witch almost purred.

"May I say goodbye to my captain?" You asked the messenger God.

"I'm feeling generous today, let's go say bye to my great grandson." He replied, picking her up, and flying her outside.

♡♡♡

"This is entirely unnecessary, my feet work perfectly fine, please put me down, and oh my Gods that's high up." You hid your face in the crook of his neck, feeling the vibrations from his laughter.

"You can look, were almost on solid ground, darling."

"Before I say goodbye, what exactly does this deal entail?"

He smirked at her. "Their freedom cost you yours, but don't worry darling, I'll treat you nicely, and I won't turn you into a pig."

DROWNED LOVE, LET ME SEE YOU AGAIN...

Various! Yandere/Obsessed! EPIC Characters x Reader

Content Warning: Yandere themes, Odysseus' obsession with you grows stronger, mention of themes

Description: While Odysseus meets the prophet Tiresias in the he learns about his future, but what about you? He has no answer to that (or does he not want to give an answer?). Meanwhile, Hermes visits Circe who wants to find out more about you, so Hermes decides to take you to Circe when Apollo, Athena or one of the other gods isn't looking and then things start to get different…

Part 4: Whispers of the dead and other ways of persuasion

A/N: here is the next part :3 I'm so sorry that none came, I'm currently in training and in exam phase, I try to upload at least one part every weekend. I am so grateful that you like this series (maybe I'm planning one-shots from other fandoms)

PREV / Part 5

‧₊˚ ☁️⋅♡𓂃 ࣪ ִֶָ☾.

Odysseus POV:

The air is cold, voices echo from every corner and I have the oppressive feeling in my chest that I can no longer escape from here, from the underworld. Circe sent me and my men here, a prophet who can help us get back home. But I don't want to go home until I find (Y/N), I need her by my side. The souls of my deceased comrades are tugging at me, I can't stop thinking about the past events. A short time later I hear a familiar voice, but it can't be, "Mother?" I ask quietly as I see my mother's slightly glowing soul on the other side. "I'm waiting... Odysseus... (Y/N) when are you coming home?" her voice sang, I didn't know what to say or how to react. My mother and loved ones have died, what should I do? I said goodbye to my mother quietly and prayed to the gods that I would find (Y/N) here, but it was in vain, where was she? She must be here somewhere if Poseidon really killed her back then. (Y/N), where are you... I'm waiting..

‧₊˚ ☁️⋅♡𓂃 ࣪ ִֶָ☾.

While Odysseus let his gaze wander towards you, they arrived at the prophet, but what Odysseus said was not what he expected. The prophet who went by the name "Tiresias" spoke his prophecy without mentioning you in any of his syllables, like a secret that no one should guess. "I see a song of past love, I see the sacrifices of men, I see depictions of betrayal and a brother's last stand. I see you on the brink of death, I see you taking your last breath, I see a man coming home alive, but it's no longer you." Those were the words of the prophet Odysseus was shocked but his question about how you are, where you are and what your future looks like, are he and Penelope still a part of it, continues to circle around in his head but Tiresias apparently has no answer to that. The only thing he answers is "Your future is dark." After Odysseus was on his way out of the underworld, a slight glow appeared around the prophet, he had successfully completed the task of not telling Odysseus about your future, he can now also see your future without having to see Odysseus in it like a stain that tarnishes a beautiful painting.

‧₊˚ ☁️⋅♡𓂃 ࣪ ִֶָ☾.

Meanwhile, you are sitting in one of the magnificent gardens on Olympus, surrounded by every imaginable kind of flower, they shine in their full splendor and even glow a little. It is rare that you are alone at the moment, as you are usually always accompanied by a god or goddess. But right now you are completely alone, listening to the trees rustling in the wind in the garden, the quiet conversations of the nymphs and the twittering of the birds. While you are completely alone in this quiet moment, you don't know what Hermes is planning.

‧₊˚ ☁️⋅♡𓂃 ࣪ ִֶָ☾.

Hermes POV

I visited a good friend of mine again, Circe. The sorceress saw me and looked annoyed, to which I just laughed quietly. "What's that face for, my love!" I called out in a good mood. After she told me what had happened, I had to laugh quietly and shrugged my shoulders. "It was funny," I answered skillfully. But then her expression changed. "Tell me more about her." I knew what she meant and I'll be honest, I told her everything about her. We decided that I would bring her with me. I was aware that I had a challenge to get past the other gods. But please, I stole my brother's cows when I was a baby. I knew that our dear (Y/N) was alone at the moment, so why don't I take her on a trip to Circe Dawling.

‧₊˚ ☁️⋅♡𓂃 ࣪ ִֶָ☾.

Protected by the warm sun, you were still sitting alone in the garden until you felt a gust of wind. When you opened your eyes, Hermes was standing in front of you with a broad grin. "Lord Hermes?" you asked the god, but you couldn't say anything else. The god lifted you up in his arms and with a grin he said, "We're going on a trip now, Dawling." And before you could process it, you felt the wind blowing through your hair as Hermes ran off at his inhuman speed. In less than a few minutes you were already on a beautiful island, and in the middle of it stood a magnificent palace. The palace was not like the one on Olympus, but the palace was perfect for a goddess. When Hermes let you down, you felt the soft grass and the gentle wind. When you turned your gaze in the direction of the palace, you saw two white lions approaching you, but when you wanted to back away, he held you with a gentle grip, "Don't be afraid, they won't hurt you." The lions sniffed you curiously and led you towards the palace.

‧₊˚ ☁️⋅♡𓂃 ࣪ ִֶָ☾.

Reader POV:

I don't know how I got into this situation, I was just on Olympus and now I'm standing between the messengers of the gods Hermes and the sorceress Circe. Circe's fingers gently stroked my skin and her voice was soft and she cast a spell over me. "Don't be afraid, my love, you'll really like it here, I just hope Hermes was gentle with you too." These words penetrated deep into my heart, she seemed to be worried about me. At least that's what I thought, her eyes were full of affection. "Hermes has already told me so much about you, I just had to see you in person," she whispered softly to me. "And I must say, you are even more lovely than Hermes described you." I blushed at her words, these words touched my heart and spread a warm feeling. "Thank you Lady Circe..." I managed to say. I flinched when I felt Hermes' hand on my hip. I took a step forward out of reflex and felt Circe's arms wrap around me. "Hermes, not so rough, it could break." She warned the god and gently stroked my hip and whispered in my ear in a seductive tone, "Don't worry, my little flower, I'll make sure you're okay here." I felt the heat spread across my face, my vision began to change. Circe looked so beautiful and Hermes' proximity put me in a state that was hard to explain.

‧₊˚ ☁️⋅♡𓂃 ࣪ ִֶָ☾.

As you stood between the two of them, you felt a pair of lips sliding over your shoulders. A slight shiver ran down your spine. "If it's too much, tell us, little flower." Circe's voice rang out before she lifted your chin with her fingers. You nodded in agreement, a slight gasp escaped you as Hermes began to kiss your neck. "Don't worry, my little flower, I'll make sure it's the best for you," Circe assured you with a gentle smile before you felt her lips on yours, her kiss was gentle and tasted sweet like honey...

‧₊˚ ☁️⋅♡𓂃 ࣪ ִֶָ☾.

idk this just randomly came to me but if you don’t want to/don’t feel like writing this just delete this ask!

Circe with a fem! ex-pirate! S/O

࣪𖤐.ᐟ note -> NO ONE UNDERSTANDS HOW MUCH I LOVE PIRATE READERS!!!! ALSO I'M OFFICIALLY OFF BREAK!!!

࣪𖤐.ᐟ warnings -> none.

࣪𖤐.ᐟ content includes -> fluff, readers crew is mostly women, smitten, the nymphs, idk what else to add lol.

rare pair but may i request circe x hermes x reader (kinda flirty kinda rivalry if u can read me), or just zeus x reader / poseidon x reader im always up to devour sone zaddies

I'm so glad you like my writing!

Also, Reader is female in this because they're a nymph and most nymphs are female.

TRIGGER WARNING FOR KIDNAPPING!

Like That

︶⊹︶︶୨୧︶︶⊹︶︶⊹︶︶୨୧︶︶⊹︶︶⊹︶︶୨୧︶

Word count: 2.3k

Summary: While teaching nymphs how to stretch, you effortlessly drop into a split—unaware that Circe and Penelope are secretly watching, completely entranced by your flexibility. Later, the air is thick with magic and intent. They confront you, hungry with desire, and take their time... worshipping you.

Pairing: Fem!Reader x Circe x Penelope

A/N: this is so freaky I TRIED MY BEST I PROMISE

Warnings: MDNI, implied fingering, oral sex, threesome, praise kink

︶⊹︶︶୨୧︶︶⊹︶︶⊹︶︶୨୧︶︶⊹︶︶⊹︶︶୨୧

The midday sun hung high, draping the glade in a molten veil of gold. Light filtered through the canopy in soft shafts, dappling the clearing with flickers of brilliance that danced over moss and skin alike. The earth beneath your bare feet was warm and forgiving, a blend of soft loam and sun-soaked grass. The air was thick with the scents of summer: crushed rosemary underfoot, distant salt from the sea, and the sweetness of blooming myrtle in the trees.

Your skirt was knotted high on your hips, fabric bunched loosely at your waist to allow for movement. Your skin glowed with exertion and sun, dewy in the heat, your arms extended gracefully as you moved with slow, deliberate elegance, guiding the nymphs clustered around you. They followed in scattered mimicry, giggling, breathless, stumbling over limbs and balance, their laughter bubbling like a brook down a mountainside. Pure, melodic, endless.

You smiled, patient, serene. “No, no—breathe through it. You have to relax your hips. Let gravity do the work.”

And then, effortlessly, you dropped into a full split. The laughter stuttered into silence. Gasps rose in unison, wide eyes blinking in awe as they watched your body lengthen, open, and settle into the earth with fluid grace. But you barely noticed. Your arms reached skyward, spine lifting tall, crown tilted to the sun. You held the pose with tranquil confidence, your expression soft and unbothered. Like a priestess in morning devotion, channeling something ancient through muscle and breath. The light caressed every curve, every line of strength in your thighs, your waist, your outstretched arms. You were sun-kissed, supple, radiant.

And at the edge of the glade, hidden beneath the green-gold shadows of the trees, two figures watched in rapt, breathless silence. Circe lounged against a gnarled oak, her body half-swallowed by vines and leaves, one hand resting at her side while the other absently twirled a lock of hair. Her golden eyes were slitted, low with desire, watching your every motion like a huntress stalking prey. The sunlight made her golden tattoos shimmer faintly, alive against her bronzed skin, her expression somewhere between amusement and hunger.

Beside her, Penelope stood as if carved from stillness. Her posture was composed, her hands delicately clasped at her waist—but her parted lips and dilated pupils betrayed the storm beneath. Her chest rose in a slow, shallow breath, reverence etched into every line of her face.

“Did you know she could do that?” Penelope asked, her voice barely more than breath—hushed, reverent, nearly aching.

Circe’s smirk deepened, curling at the corners like a secret spell. “I’ve bent her legs back before,” she murmured, the words honeyed and rich, “but not like that.”

Penelope swallowed, eyes glued to the supple arch of your spine, the long stretch of thigh, the soft curve of strength in your core. “I want to see how deep she can arch,” she whispered. “How long she can hold it. How much she can take..”

Circe’s gaze didn’t leave your form. “Then let’s find out,” she said, her smile slow and sharp and promising. From the glade, the nymphs continued their breathless mimicry, but you remained in your stretch, unknowing and open beneath the gaze of two women who were already imagining how to worship and ruin you all over again.

You returned to the cottage much later, the sun low behind the trees, painting the horizon in hues of honey and flame. Your skin was warm and flushed, still tingling from the heat of the day and the laughter of the nymphs echoing in your bones. A lazy smile lingered on your lips as you nudged the door open, humming faintly to yourself, the scent of wild thyme and sun-scorched grass still clinging to your clothes. But the moment you stepped inside, everything changed. The air shifted.

It hit you like the press of velvet to bare skin. Thick, sweet, heavy with something unseen but unmistakable. The warmth inside was not from the fire. It was denser than heat, laced with heady perfume. Sandalwood, crushed rose, and something darker beneath, something charged. The kind of scent that curled in your lungs and made your pulse quicken without permission. Before you could react, the door clicked shut behind you. Then locked. A soft sound, final.

You stilled. “Hello?” you called, voice wavering at the edges, though you weren’t sure why. No one had answered, but something or someone was watching.

From the shadows near the hearth, Circe stepped into view. She moved like poured wine, like a promise about to be broken. Silks clung to her like a second skin. It was barely fastened, slipping down one shoulder to reveal gold-dusted flesh. Her tattoos gleamed in the low light, serpentine and fluid, seeming to pulse with her breath. Her golden eyes found you instantly and devoured—tracing every inch of your form, from the fine sheen of sweat on your collarbone to the soft muscle of your thighs beneath your skirt.

Her smile was slow. Dangerous. “We saw your little display..” she purred, voice the kind that wound around your spine and pulled.

Another figure followed—Penelope, quiet as moonlight on water. She was all grace and restraint, wrapped in linen the color of doves’ wings, her hair unbound and curling slightly at the ends. But her eyes, so sharp with heat, darkened with a hunger that made your breath catch. She looked at you like you were a feast she’d been fasting from for far too long.

“You didn’t tell us you were that flexible, love,” she said gently, but her voice was taut with want, reverence curled beneath the words like an undertow.

You blinked, startled by their intensity, your smile faltering as something low and liquid stirred in your belly. “I didn’t think it mattered.”

Circe was in front of you before the last word left your mouth—two long, effortless steps, and then her hand was beneath your chin, tilting your face up to hers. Her fingers were cool and sure, her gaze molten.

“Oh, it matters now,” She said softly, the words like smoke, like silk, like the beginning of something inevitable. They undressed you slowly, worshipfully.

Penelope’s fingers moved with reverence, tracing the curve of your spine like she was reading scripture written in skin. Circe followed the path of her hands with her mouth, lips brushing over your collarbone, hot and deliberate, as if she meant to kiss the breath right from your lungs. Their touch didn’t rush.. it unraveled. Inch by inch. Layer by layer. Until you stood bare before them, warm and golden in the firelight, chest rising and falling with something thick and thrumming.

They guided you to the bed like an offering.

Circe settled behind you, legs framing your hips, her thighs firm and warm against yours. She draped herself over your back, hands resting at your waist like they belonged there. Penelope knelt between your parted legs, her gaze reverent, dark eyes shining with something between worship and hunger.

“Can you show us again?” Penelope whispered, her voice a velvet thread, barely audible over the pounding in your ears. Her fingertips skimmed the inside of your thigh—featherlight, reverent.. As if you might vanish if she touched too hard. “How far can you go?”

You didn’t speak. You didn’t need to. The air had already thickened with knowing. With a slow, fluid shift of your hips, you lowered yourself into the splits—effortless, sinuous, your body opening like a prayer answered. The tension in the room snapped.

A strangled sound ripped from Circe’s throat, half-growl, half-moan. Her hands found your hips like they were drawn there by spellwork, her fingers clutching hard enough to bruise. Her nails bit into your skin, anchoring her to the sight of you. “Fuck,” she rasped, her voice wrecked. “You’re going to kill me.”

Penelope’s breath caught audibly. Her lips parted, her eyes devouring every inch of you like she couldn’t quite believe you were real. She dropped lower with reverent slowness, her hair brushing your skin as she kissed her way up your trembling inner thigh, her touch was soft, unhurried, like you were something sacred. When her breath fanned over your slick heat, your hips twitched. She paused.

“My my…” she whispered, the words soaked in awe and hunger, her voice nearly broken. “Look at you.”

And then her mouth was on you. Hot, soft, devastating. The first drag of her tongue stole the breath from your lungs. The world tilted, spun, melted. You forgot your own name. Circe groaned behind you, her grip tightening, her chest rising and falling against your back like she was struggling not to come just from the sight. But you could barely process it. All thought drowned beneath the slow, sinful worship of Penelope’s mouth.

Penelope's tongue was warm, slow, precise, circling, dipping, drinking. She moved like she was savoring something sacred, like your pleasure was holy and she was its high priestess. Circe held you open, her grip tight, worship-rough, nails biting crescents into your hips. She kissed your shoulder. Soft, murmuring words into your skin in a language you didn’t know, but your body understood. Every syllable lit sparks beneath your ribs. Every breath she fed you trembled straight to your core.

Your leg lifted easily, muscle pliant from hours of movement and stretch, and Penelope guided it over her shoulder, angling you wider. Deeper. Her moan vibrated against you as you cried out, helpless, trembling under the onslaught of pleasure. Her fingers joined her mouth—two, then three—moving in a rhythm so deliberate it made your spine arch. Circe groaned into your neck, rocking against your back with abandon, drinking in every sound you made like she’d go feral without it.

“You take so well,” Circe whispered, her voice ragged, hips grinding against your lower back. “So pliant. So good. I want to see how many ways we can make you come.”

And boy, they made good on the promise.

Penelope curled her fingers just right, dragging them slow and deep as her tongue flicked wickedly. Meanwhile, Circe’s mouth found your throat, teeth grazing, sucking until you cried out. You writhed between them, lost in the stretch, the angle, the pressure. Your knees folded nearly to your ears as Penelope fucked you deeper, her breath catching as she pulled back just enough to look.

“Gods,” Penelope breathed, her voice shaking, eyes wide and devout as if she were witnessing a revelation. “You look divine like this. Open and trembling.”

Her words dripped worship, and they made you whimper. Circe’s hand slid up your chest, slow and possessive, until her fingers brushed your lips. You opened for her without hesitation, greedily and needy. Her fingers pushed past your lips, and you sucked them deep, tongue curling, mouth slick and obedient. The taste of your own arousal lingered faintly on her skin, and the low moan she gave in response only made your pulse spike.

“Good girl,” She rasped, her voice raw silk, heavy with reverence and hunger. Her hips rolled against you from behind, her slick heat grinding against your ass, her body a furnace pressed tight to your back. You could feel her. Every curve, every inch of heat and want. As she moved, slow and relentless. Her free hand found your breast again, fingers pinching and rolling the peaked flesh until your back arched, taut and trembling.

“You’re ours,” she growled, right against your ear, her breath hot and ragged. “Our little stretch of heaven.”

The words tore through you. You shattered. Once—your cry muffled around Circe’s fingers, your body tensing, twitching. And once again, your thighs twitching, curling instinctively, as Penelope’s tongue never relented, her fingers stroking you through each wave like she could read your body by heart.

Your body gave out, wrung dry and burning, hips jerking weakly, muscles trembling and clenching with every aftershock. You sobbed softly around Circe’s fingers, lips wet and swollen, eyes fluttering shut as your body pulsed in their hands—wrecked, radiant, utterly undone. You couldn’t even count. Every orgasm melted into the next. Wave after wave after wave. They didn’t stop. They shifted. Adjusted your body like sculptors molding soft clay, marveling at every tremble, every arch, every broken sound that spilled from your lips. Your strength only fed them. Your surrender made them starved.

By the time it was over, you were boneless and melted into the mattress, limbs sprawled without aim or tension, breath dragging shallow and slow from your parted lips. Sweat cooled on your flushed skin, glistening in the firelight like dew on petaled flesh after rainfall. Your hair was a wild halo, tangled across the pillows and your shoulders, clinging in damp, curling strands. Your thighs still trembled faintly, twitching with aftershocks, overstimulated and gloriously used. Every inch of you pulsed with pleasure, the echoes of their touch thrumming beneath your skin like distant thunder.

You felt claimed in the deepest sense. Not just taken, but known. Worshipped. Marked in ways no mirror could reflect. A constellation of bruises bloomed along your hips and inner thighs, love-bites blossomed over your collarbone and the swell of your breast, each one a story, a moment, a gasp etched into flesh.

Circe’s body blanketed yours from behind, her breath warm against your ear as she draped herself over your back like a lioness at rest, possessive and sated. Her fingers skimmed lazily down your waist, dipping into the hollow of your hip with familiarity that made your belly flutter all over again. She pressed a kiss to your temple. One soft, tender, reverent.

“Tomorrow,” she murmured, her voice husky with satisfaction, lips brushing your skin, “you’re teaching us those stretches.”

A tired, breathless laugh slipped from you, but it was stolen almost immediately by the press of another mouth. Penelope had never moved far, still curled beside you like a prayer, one hand stroking the inside of your thigh in idle, reverent circles. Her touch was feather-light, more soothing than seeking now, as if she could coax your body to melt even further into safety. Her gaze was soft but dark, heavy with lingering want, her lashes casting shadows against flushed cheeks as she leaned in.

She kissed you, lingering like the last note of a hymn in a quiet temple. It tasted like devotion. Like honey and salt and promise. Not an ending. An invitation.

“But tonight,” she whispered, lips brushing yours—

“Let’s see how else you bend.”

︶⊹︶︶୨୧︶︶⊹︶︶⊹︶︶୨୧︶︶⊹︶︶⊹︶︶୨୧︶

my longest fic ever.. yuri.. smut.. okay pop off