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The first time Melinoë came to Nemesis with one of those rare bottles of nectar, Nemesis couldn’t help but feel a dichotomy of emotions.
Firstly, Nemesis was absolutely baffled that Melinoë, of all people to whom she could give such a gift to, would choose her for the honor. Surely there was a number of other people at the base that Melinoë would feel far more inclined to express generosity towards; but, no, the stupid woman chose to come to her.
Secondly, Nemesis felt that familiar undertone of bitterness, anger, ripple through her gut, her hand closing tight and hard over the pommel of her blade. Nemsis wouldn’t say it out loud — ever, and she’d rather die a thousand deaths before she’d ever say it to any soul, living or dead — but Melinoë choosing others above herself, over, and over, and over…
WIth a sneer on her lips and derision in her tone, Nemesis took the damn nectar and, like always, Melinoë replied with a curt retort before turning away.
Nemesis couldn’t help but let her gaze linger at that spot of bare skin between Melinoë’s shoulderblades, just underneath the nape of her neck, as her would-be rival strode off. Nemesis’ hand flexed over the pommel of her sword, and she tried not to think of oft-repeated, but impossible, thoughts.
—-
“You raised her as a sheep for slaughter,” Nemesis hissed, voice dripping with harsh blame and long-held anger. “And she knows none the better for it.”
Hecate’s eyes narrowed, a more intense flare of flame flashing around the edges of her fearsome gaze as the god turned from the cauldron.
“There are better ways to address your frustrations towards Melinoë being chosen for the daunting task of confronting Time, than by confronting me so,” Hecate said, voice straight but Nemesis didn’t miss the undertone — she was toeing a very, very, very dangerous line here.
But, like always, Nemesis never backed down from a fight. Eris would be proud.
“This isn’t even about her being chosen for it — this is about the fact you raised her to know nothing else,” Nemesis said. “She puts her whole self, her heart, her soul — her damn body — on the line and what is she rewarded with? Nothing.”
Hecate said nothing for a long moment. It took everything Nemesis had to not divert her gaze — she couldn’t lose this battle. She couldn’t. She wouldn’t.
“You’re right,” Hecate said, and Nemesis was taken aback. “You’re right, I’ve rewarded her with little for her numerous efforts, and the infinite cycles of torment she’ll endure as she descends towards the House of Hades will earn her nothing but the ire of Chronos and his minions.”
“But,” Hecate continued, and she tilted her head. “Assume, if I’m to play at your level, that I willed her not to do any of this. What, do you believe, would happen to the world then?”
Nemesis swallowed, and she couldn’t help but feel the bead of sweat on the back of her neck.
This was the harsh truth of the world they lived in, and it was a truth Hecate knew she knew.
There was no one who could do what Melinoë could. She was the only one whose heritage allowed her to control the paths of the Underworld, and she was the only one whose blood and will could compel the deepest depths of the Hells in her own name.
And if she didn’t go, if she didn’t put a stop to Time, then all of reality as they knew it — their family, the world, its people — all of it would be bent, crushed, and squeezed into Chronos’ coldblooded fist.
The pressure was immense. The situation dire, on an entirely different level than any other legend or myth.
And it was why the truth was harsh, and so, so, so, unfair.
“Your lack of response tells me your apparent answer,” Hecate said. “You know why Melinoë has to do this.”
“It’s not — it’s not fair. She deserves far better than to be treated as a weapon—”
“And you’re right. I concede that,” Hecate replied. “But neither am I so softhearted or weak of will to not understand that Melinoë is the world’s only chance of survival against Time. All aspects of my kindness and my generosity went to training her for this — it would not be kindness, rather, it would be cruelty, to have deprived her of the knowledge she needs to succeed and survive in a war like this.”
Nemesis tried to find a reply; but all that the witch said was true, harsh and unforgiving, but true.
“I see you finding it difficult to grapple with this,” Hecate said, and the witch raised a hand to her chin, her gaze briefly narrowing in thought. “If it would placate you so, then why not extend Melinoë a helping hand in the field?”
That definitely took Nemesis aback, and she pulled a face, baffled. “You made it quite clear what Melinoë’s role was and what my role is to play in this grand war. I thought my job was to stand guard over the Crossroads?”
“It is. It always will be.” Hecate turned away, and Nemesis let herself breathe a little, now that she was free of Hecate’s burning gaze. “But it’s not as if I’ve told you you’re not to do anything else.”
Trying to salvage what little bits of pride she had left, Nemesis straightened her pose — she was still shorter than the damn Titan — and turned away. “Whatever. As you said, she has her role, I have mine.”
If Hecate had said it though, then…it would be possible, for Nemesis to head out to the field. To try her hand at Melinoë’s impossible task. To ease her burdens, if only a little — and, for the matter of Nemesis’ pride, to show she could do just as good as, or better of, a job at whittling down Chronos’ armies.
As Nemesis strode away, Hecate called after her, “I warn you now — your efforts will be futile.”
“As are hers, as we both know,” Nemesis said under her breath.
—-
“Nem? You’re here?”
Nem. Melinoë had started calling her that some time ago, the nickname sprinkled into conversation like brief rains in a large desert. Normally, Nemesis would strangle, behead, and/or punt whoever dared address her in such an informal way, but when Melinoë said her name like so…
“What are you doing here? Aren’t you meant to be guarding the Crossroads?” Melinoë asked, panting still from the last glade she’d torn through. Nemesis tried not to focus on the rise and fall of Melinoë’s chest.
Kneejerk instinct had Nemesis retorting, “I’m showing you how it’s really done.” She gestured to the empty glade they stood in now, devoid of enemies.
“Headmistress Hecate won’t be pleased knowing you’ve abandoned your post,” Melinoë replied, brow furrowed in a cute scowl. Gods, she could never really pull off anger well, not when she looked just so…so…
“What Headmistress Hecate doesn’t know won’t hurt her, and I know you’re certainly not going to tell her,” Nemesis said. “And, besides, normally when someone else does your job for you, you say ‘thank you.’”
“I won’t give thanks for something I never asked you to do.” Melinoë strode past Nemesis, intending to leave for the next area—
“You’ll thank me next time you’re bleeding out and need a helping hand.” To rub salt into the wound, Nemesis sprinted past Melinoë, grin on her mouth, and barreled her way to the next glade, and the trees closed behind her just as she heard Melinoë’s offended ‘Hey!’
—-
Nemesis would still rather die a thousand deaths than ever admit it, but, damn, this shit was hard.
Erebus wasn’t hard to clear — it was standard training practice, anyway, but Oceanus proved to be a tough battle with the denizens of the deep, and then the Fields of Mourning were an entirely different league of difficulty with its armored monsters and massive valleys.
And yet, somehow, Melinoë chose to endure every level every single night, without complaint. Even on nights when she returned early, she would spend only a short time resting before resuming training with Commander Schelemeus and then departing for yet another attempt.
Nemesis couldn’t possibly fathom that form of insanity. For Melinoë to remain so adamant and steadfast in the face of utter and complete impossibility was insane to comprehend. It was like the woman didn’t even understand the concept of impossibility.
Which, honestly, was probably true.
Because each time there’d been an impossibility, somehow, Melinoë had overcome it.
Like the Fates’ written law that the blood of Hades could never last, nor live, on the surface — yet, Melinoë had achieved the impossible and undone just a partial word of the absolute law of the Fates. She’d been able to ascend, to breathe that surface air, to even fight in Ephyra’s streets for longer than a minute.
And, like any impossibilities, Melinoë seemed intent on overcoming any impossibility in her path.
For example, Nemesis herself.
“Hah! I won this time,” Melinoë said, panting heavily, staff gripped in her hand as she whipped around with a joyful grin. “That’s ten to eight. I beat you.”
“Yeah, ha, ha,” Nemesis said, straightening up and trying not to make it look like she was just as winded as Melinoë.
They were in the Fields, testing each other, driving each other to the limits. It would always please Nemesis, slightly, to turn around and see Melinoë dashing to her from a distance — almost, sometimes, beelining it straight for her and ignoring any boons along the way. It was almost as if Melinoë herself was also eager to see Nemesis and to meet her in the Fields, but that was definitely wishful thinking.
“Don’t get too full of yourself. I’m just having an off-night,” Nemesis said.
“Right, sure.” Melinoë rolled her eyes. “You’re just reluctant to admit defeat. That reminds me, though.”
Rummaging in her pack, Melinoë then pulled out—
“You’ve got to be kidding me,” Nemesis said. “Really, here?”
“Why not?” Melinoë asked, offended. She held out the nectar to Nemesis. “I thought this would be a nice reward after how well we’ve cleaned up here. I appreciate the assistance, truly, and I think you deserve this.”
Nemesis bit her tongue, trying not to think of how Melinoë didn’t think she deserved it.
To save her pride, Nemesis said, “Look, you said it yourself, we cleaned up here. We should just share it, if you’re insistent on giving me one.”
“Really?” Melinoë brightened, and something tripped and stumbled in Nemesis’ chest. “If you insist, I won’t say no. Honestly, I’ve always wanted to try one of these.”
“You’ve never tried it?” Nemesis asked, baffled, as she watched Melinoë pull out the cork from the bottle and raise the rim to her nose, sniffing the sweet liquid inside. “You’ve been giving it out to everyone and their mother this whole time, and yet, never thought to try it yourself.”
“It…never felt right,” Melinoë said, but she didn’t meet Nemesis’ gaze, before her eyes briefly darted to meet Nemesis’. “Look, I’m trying it now, with you. That feels fine to me.”
Nemesis watched as Melinoë took the tiniest, smallest sip.
“That’s wonderful.” Melinoë’s expression of shock and awe was almost too bright for Nemesis to look at. “Gods, I understand why this is considered such a gift now.”
“Then have some more of it, if you like it so much.”
“I can’t just take more, you should have your share—”
“Mel. You haven’t even drank half of it,” Nemesis said, exasperated. This stupid woman was going to be the death of her. “Drink your share, then I’ll have mine.”
“Fine, fine, no need to be so pushy…”
After Melinoë had her half — and Nemesis really made sure she did — Nemesis raised the bottle to her lips and tried not to think of the secondhand kiss she was about to have as she too drank her fill. It was sweet, alluring, and oh so delicious, but the thing that Nemesis savored the most was looking back down at Melinoë and seeing the slight sheen of nectar left on her lips…
And, for some reason, Melinoë looked breathless, face flushed. “W-well, now that you’ve had your share, it’s time for me to go. I’ll see you back at the Crossroads, Nem!” she called out, as she ran off towards the next field.
—-
Standing guard at her usual post, Nemesis heard familiar footsteps near her and turned to see Melinoë coming close.
“What is it now?” Nemesis asked.
“Charon’s made another delivery, and I — he delivered some bath salts.” Melinoë held out her hand, and there it was, the oh-so-desired bath salts that no doubt cost the bones of an arm, a leg, and perhaps other unnamed parts of a skeleton. “I…wondered if you’d like to join me, once more, at the baths for a soak. We’ve both been fighting in the field for some time, without reprieve.”
“Huh. It’s…tempting.” Again, Nemesis wondered why Melinoë went out of her way to do this — not just invite her personally but why she’d spend so much of her time and resources and Charon’s abilities on getting menial items such as this.
But even Nemesis wasn’t ignorant of the need for breaks — working oneself too hard was bound to drive you six feet under the dirt, and that wouldn’t benefit the war efforts at all.
“Lead the way then, Mel.”
Melinoë’s expression brightened, her smile sweet. “I’ll help you with your armor — you did say it was a hassle to take off.”
The two of them reached the baths and Melinoë’s swift fingers were already at the clasps and bindings of Nemesis’ armor. Almost a little too eager, but Nemesis didn’t comment, nor was she bothered by the attention.
It wasn’t long until Nemesis shrugged out of her armor, relief coming to her sore muscles as she was freed of its heavy weight, and she flexed her body freely, letting herself feel as aspects of freedom for just the briefest moment.
As Nemesis then made to get into the water, she turned to see Melinoë still standing there, fully clothed, watching her with her mouth slightly agape.
“Do I have to remind you, again? You can share in the rewards that you’ve worked so hard to gift to me,” Nemesis said, completely nonplussed at the aspect of nudity between them, and therefore surprised to see Melinoë had made no move to strip herself. “I’m not just gonna get into the bath myself, fool.”
“I’m no fool,” Melinoë answered, face flushed now as her gaze snapped up to Nemesis’. “I’m eager to earn my reward just as much as you are.”
Soon enough, they were both in the baths, and Nemesis heaved a great sigh of relief as the heated waters did wonders to her body, to the soreness of her arms from wielding her blade all these days.
As Nemesis reached a hand up to push back the bangs of her hair, she saw Melinoë shift closer to her, near to her side.
“What?” Nemesis asked.
“Your arm,” Melinoë said, eyes narrowed as she reached forward, fingers brushing a fresh scar on Nemesis’ bicep. “What happened?”
“A mistake is what happened,” Nemesis said, but she didn’t move away — normally, she would abhor the contact with herself and anyone, but Melinoë’s touch was soft, gentle, as her fingers brushed across the scar. Something about her concern made Nemesis feel a certain way; perhaps it’d been too long since she’d experienced that rare and fleeting thing called concern, called kindness, called care.
At Nemesis’ side now, Melinoë pursed her lips, brow furrowed. “I can try and find something on our travels that might help.”
Pride once more bared its fangs and Nemesis bluntly said, “I don’t need your damn help with a little scar. It’s a war, shit like this is expected.”
Bristling, Melinoë fired back, “I understand that, but it doesn’t mean I don’t want to make you feel better—”
“I don’t need you fawning over me like some wounded animal,” Nemesis said, the words out of her mouth before she could stop herself — it was so instinctual, to bite, to hiss, to show her teeth at the merest mention and show of anyone being concerned for her. This wasn’t what she wanted to say to Melinoë, but years — no, centuries — of habit was so hard to break.
“I’m not — I’m just —”
Crossing her arms and taking her arm away from Melinoë’s touch — and immediately regretting it — Nemesis turned her head away. “I think you need to focus more on yourself and your shit form when you were out in the Fields yesterday, rather than me.”
“My form was perfectly fine—” Melinoë’s words were heated now, and the conversation was fast devolving into another one of their familiar arguments.
“It wasn’t, you lost nearly half your health trying to take out the twenty lamias—” Nemesis snapped her head around, glare intense now as she looked down on Melinoë.
“If you’re so intent on critiquing me, then you should know you would’ve figured out how to not get lost in the Fields by studying the golden boughs,” Melinoë hissed. Her scowl was heated, face red, not just from the hot springs but also from her emotions.
“Oh, ho, ho, look at you, lording it over me that you know so much more than I do.”
“I—Nem, this isn’t—” Melinoë started, mouth opening and closing as she tried to find a reply, but then she heaved a frustrated sigh and turning around, crossing her own arms. She looked so ridiculous, so small, but so clearly full of anger too.
“This isn’t what, Princess? You just playing pretend at being friends with me? Because we both know that’s what this is.” Oh, no, the harsh truth. Nemesis didn’t want to say it out loud like this but habit’s such a bitch to break when she’s spent years harassing Melinoë with words made from daggers, with spitting remarks fashioned with poison and vitriol.
Melinoë whipped her head around to shoot back, “You know that isn’t what this is. You’re — you’re always so focused on how I’m not perfect and that you would never make the same mistakes that I do—”
“Yeah! I wouldn’t! You’re always screwing yourself over, making these same mistakes over and over, every night—”
“Then do it yourself then,” Melinoë spat. “If you’re so insistent on saying that I screw myself over all the time, then do it yourself!”
Wait, the way those words came out. It had Nemesis pause for a second, and so did Melinoë, and the both just stared at each other for a beat, both of them processing what Melinoë just said.
“I — I’m leaving.” Melinoë immediately hauled herself up and out of the baths, almost scrambling in her hurry to leave before Nemesis could wrap her brain around Melinoë’s words. “I — I’m not talking to you, when you’re so intent on criticizing me for no reason other than to upset me, when all I do is try to be to kind to you.”
“Th-that’s—Mel, wait—”
But Melinoë was good, towel hastily wrapped around herself as she made her escape, and once again, Nemesis found herself staring at that bare spot of skin between Melinoë’s shoulderblades, the sight of it rendering her breathless, like countless times before.
—-
The next time they saw each other in the Fields, neither of them said anything to each other. Melinoë barely even glanced at her before starting another combat trial, and the two said nothing the whole time they were beheading, spearing, stabbing, and swinging at hordes of enemies.
When the battle ended, Nemesis tossed Melinoë a favored pom, before departing. She didn’t bother waiting to hear Melinoë’s response — not that she expected any.
Still, as Nemesis left the field, she couldn’t help but feel a twinge of regret in her gut. This wasn’t how she’d wanted things to be between them both, as much as she didn’t want to admit it.
—-
This continued for several more nights.
Sometimes, Nemesis would stand at her post, and see from afar, Melinoë tending to the gardens. The way her expression softened as she’d admire the flowers, the poppies, the nightshades…Oh, Nemesis’ heart twinged in her chest at the sight.
And then Melinoë would proceed to the training grounds, barely even casting her a glance.
Stupid Odysseus even had the gall to walk over to her, thumb jerking in Melinoë’s direction as he asked in a low tone, “I know you two have a shared animosity for each other, but gods, what happened?”
“It’s none of your damn business, that’s what happened,” Nemesis said with a snarl. “I don’t need a master strategist to tell me what Mel’s thinking.”
Odysseus held his hands up in defense as he slowly backed away, no doubt sensing the physical aura of animosity surrounding Nemesis’ figure. “Understood, I’ll keep my nose out of this then.”
—-
One night, Melinoë was gone for far longer than usual.
Rumblings and rumors and whispers amongst the shades and inhabitants of the Crossroads made the atmosphere of the place almost unbearable, and Nemesis couldn’t help but pace back and forth for a while at her post, scowling and baring her fangs at any shade dumb enough to come within her vicinity.
Several times, she thought of jumping into the fields down below, to see if she could find where Melinoë was at and why she was taking so long to return. However, the odds of meeting her again in the labyrinthine paths of Erebus, Oceanus, and the Fields only ever so rarely leaned in her favor. If Melinoë were this far, this meant, no doubt, she was in the depths of Tartarus and only halls away from the House of Hades — and this was an area Nemesis herself had never reached, nor did she even think she’d be allowed access to without Melinoë’s heritage.
Battlehardened and experienced Nemesis may be, she couldn’t help but think of a myriad of unfortunate incidents Melinoë could’ve fallen into with the embodiment of Time.
If she was defeated, surely, Chronos wouldn’t deprive her of the ability to return…?
And then, she heard it.
Familiar footsteps, racing into the grand clearing, near the cauldron.
“Hecate — Hecate! I did it!” Melinoë’s words of excitement, of celebration, reached the ears of every shade and every being in the Crossroads. “I defeated Time!”
Everything and everyone converged on Melinoë as she came close to Hecate, and the two witches converged together, expressions of similar excitement, joy. Odysseus and Moros were near as well, listening and offering input on the conversation, but Nemesis held back because like always, she knew the harsh and unforgiving truth.
Defeating Time once was one thing. Permanently defeating him was another thing.
Melinoë’s success would be fleeting as Chronos no doubt put himself back together, no doubt resurrected himself for yet another battle, another night. This wasn’t over — it was far, far, far from over.
Nemesis stopped pacing, heart rate falling to a more suitable level now that she knew Melinoë was at least safe in the Crossroads, and resumed standing at her usual post. She didn’t bother joining with the brief celebrations, not when she knew her place and not when she knew Melinoë’s opinion of her.
But then, familiar footsteps came near.
“Yes?” Nemesis asked, not daring to say more, lest habit catch her tongue.
“I just wanted to inform you I’ve defeated the Titan of Time once,” Melinoë said, tone curt and polite, as if the two were strangers. “I already know what you’re going to say, however.”
Nemesis said nothing.
Melinoë turned her gaze to the side, crossing her ghostly arm over herself. “I know, it’s just one temporary victory, and it proves nothing as I know Chronos will return — Time always does.”
Again, Nemesis continued to say nothing.
“But just knowing I can do it, in the event — the future — that I find a way to permanently stop and defeat Time, then it’s a good sign, and it’s a win I’m willing to take.” Melinoë turned her gaze to Nemesis’ now, and her expression is determined, hard, fierce.
Oh, she’s so beautiful.
“I know you’re going to tell me, Nemesis, for the hundredth time, that my attempts are futile, and perhaps they are — for now. But I’m not going to let that stop me. This only gives me the courage to continue, to find more of Chronos’ weaknesses, because now I know he has one — me.”
Nemesis swallowed. Her full name, not ‘Nem.’
“I’ll be seeing you, then.” Melinoë turned away.
Now was her chance, if she were to say anything. Nemesis sucked in a breath—
“That was, exactly, everything I was going to say,” Nemesis said, and Melinoë paused, glancing back at her. “But you missed one thing.”
“And…what is that?” Melinoë was hesitant, rightly so.
“Good job, not making any mistakes out there,” Nemesis said.
That definitely wasn’t what Melinoë was expecting Nemesis to say, her lips slightly parted in surprise, but then she turned forward and continued walking away. Just before she was out of earshot, though, Nemesis heard Melinoë say…
“Thanks, Nem.”
—-
“Watch out!”
The two were in the Fields once more, fending off waves of enemies, when Nemesis saw a fanged, and armored, wolf pose to strike Melinoë from behind.
No, no— Mel was already so wounded from the battle with Scylla and the sirens, on her last legs, her skin already bloodied from fresh injuries in an earlier wave. She wouldn’t make it, she wouldn’t dodge in time—
Nemesis had only a second—
Nemesis tried to turn, to reach Melinoë in time, but several beasts came and cornered her, costing her time—
In that last, last, last second, Melinoë’s eyes met Nemesis’.
Eyes of familiar red and green, then softened.
‘Don’t worry,’ she mouthed.
And then the shadows took her.
—-
Nemesis had never returned so fast to the Crossroads. She finished slaying the rest of the beasts with an unknown kind of fury, her blade meeting flesh and monsters alike with a ferocity unseen in even the most savage of warriors, and then Nemesis furiously hauled her way back to base with an insane speed that even Hermes himself would admire.
When Nemesis sprinted towards Melinoë’s tent, she nearly ran face first — no, more like, knee first, the shade was so small — into Dora, who hastily phased herself out of the way.
To Nemesis’ relief, there Melinoë stood, at her table, a tome in hand.
Expectedly, unharmed and healed up from her battle, but still, Nemesis could not help but stomp forward, scowl on her brow.
“You made another mistake—”
“That’s not the greeting I was expecting,” Melinoë said dryly, lowering her tome. “I told you not to worry, you know.”
“You were hurt—”
“I returned to the shadows, as I always do when severely wounded and on the brink of death,” Melinoë answered, and the small smile on her lips just infuriated Nemesis even more, because, clearly, Melinoë was enjoying the attention, and could also clearly see through Nemesis’ facade of anger.
“It’s sweet of you, to be so concerned,” Melinoë said. “Never took you for one to care when I die. Really, I thought you’d be more of the ‘I’m upset I wasn’t the one to kill you,’ kind of type.”
“This isn’t a joke!”
And yet, Melinoë laughed, a sound that was so rare, and yet so exceedingly beautiful, Nemesis couldn’t help but be stunned by it.
“Nem, you know I’ve died countless times in my pursuit of Chronos,” Melinoë said, tone becoming slightly more serious as she set her tome down on the table. “This isn’t any different — and I’ll admit, yes, I made a mistake. Several, actually, when fighting Scylla. My dodges were…dodgy, at best.”
“That’s an even worse joke.”
Melinoë smiled, amused. “And yet, you took it as one, which is a success I’ll say.”
With her pride unwilling to accept that Melinoë’s death could be taken so lightly, Nemesis came close, close enough to have Melinoë turn around, lower back pressing against the table, as she looked up into Nemesis’ gaze. The two were close enough, almost chest to chest, and even with Nemesis’ size, Melinoë was never perturbed by it — rather, her red and green gaze met Nemesis with an unwavering kind of fierceness, a fire in it unquenched and infinite.
“You said,” Nemesis said slowly, picking her words carefully this time, forcing her tongue to obey. “You said, last time, that I should just screw you myself, if I was so upset at you making mistakes.”
Melinoë’s face reddened, but she was cheeky as ever. “I did. And?”
“You still mean it?”
Melinoë said nothing for a moment, and Nemesis almost took that as an answer, making to step away—
“I still mean it,” Melinoë said softly, quietly. Her gaze didn’t waver, at all. “And?”
“And,” Nemesis breathed, and she leaned down, palms landing on top of the table behind Melinoë, and now Nemesis could see the quick rise and fall of Melinoë’s chest, the quick catch of breath in her throat as their faces came just inches apart. “And, I think I’ll do just that.”
—-
Gods, Nemesis had imagined this a thousand times, and she’d rather die a million times than ever admit it, but the sight of Melinoë, naked, beneath her was a sight far better than any godlike nectar.
Melinoë was pressed face first against her pillows, her fists bundled up against the blanket underneath her as Nemesis took her from behind, thrusting her hips deep into her once more, the strap bottoming out inside of her just as the two worked in tandem — Nemesis jerking her hips forwards just as Melinoë pushed backwards, trying to keep the rhythm in check.
She was surprised that Melinoë could even take her like this, but clearly, the woman had been intent on doing this for some time. Melinoë’s moans, her gasps, her attempts to stifle the sweet sounds she made as Nemesis increased her thrusts in tempo — then the little words that slipped from her mouth. Please. More. Please.
And, oh, the way Nemesis’ hands fit so easily around Melinoë’s small waist, the tips of her fingers could touch; it made it so easy to get a better grip on her, to angle the strap more deeply and feel satisfied at hearing Melinoë’s little keen and whine at the shift.
“Fuck,” Melinoë gasped, and Nemesis had to focus, to not look at the beads of sweat at the center spot in between Melinoë’s shoulderblades, that revered spot that Nemesis had seen a thousand times.
Her bare skin, just out like this, for Nemesis to see — to see all of her, Melinoë’s ass pressed all the way up against Nemesis’ hips, Mel’s entire body quivering with exertion and effort…
Insanity made so much more sense now.
Bending over, still keeping up with her deepened thrusts, making sure Melinoë felt each one — Nemesis slipped one hand up from Mel’s waist, upwards to slip her palm over one of Mel’s breasts — if she tried, she could splay her hand out, no doubt tease and play with both at the same time, but she resisted the impulse, taking care to instead focus on her fingers delicately tugging and playing at a nipple, reveling in the choked moans she got in response.
“S-stop, teasing,” Melinoë breathed, letting out another muffled cry against her pillow as Nemesis made a much deeper thrust.
Nemesis’ breath was warm as she chuckled against that spot, that spot between Melinoë’s shoulderblades, and she pressed a kiss there before saying, “Beg, then.”
“Really? Nem, come on—hah—” Another thrust and a tug of her nipple cut off Melinoë’s words, her fists tightening even further in the dampened sheet.
“Beg. Or I’ll never make you come.”
“Fuck you.”
Nemesis chuckled. “Always did like that fire in you.”
Then Nemesis shifted her hands back to Melinoë’s waist, before she abruptly pulled out—
“Wh— what are you d—” Melinoë started, face turning back from her pillow, expression offended—
Then Nemesis rolled herself onto her back, next to Melinoë, hands behind her head as she leisurely lie there, smug grin on her face.
Panting, offended and insulted, Melinoë pushed herself up onto her hands, breathing hard as she looked down at Nemesis. “Really? You’re serious, you’re just going stop, right before I come?”
“Hey, I’m still right here,” Nemesis said, smug — knowing she’d get what she wanted soon enough. If Melinoë could play with her, she could do the same thing. “You’re still welcome to use me all you’d like.” She gestured then to her hips, where the glistening strap still remained.
Teeth gritted, Melinoë relented, just as Nemesis knew she would.
Nemesis watched as Melinoë pushed herself over Nemesis, knees on other side of Nemesis’ larger waist, her soaking wet core poised right above the tip of the strap.
“You’re going to pay for this, you know,” Melinoë said under her breath, but the punishment of her words was softened as she lowered herself onto the shaft, a hand clapping up to muffle her moan as she sunk deeper still until she was down to the hilt.
Gods, the sight of Melinoë like this; Nemesis couldn’t resist reaching her hands up now, meaning to once more grasp onto Melinoë’s smaller waist—
And then Melinoë’s hands slapped at Nemesis’.
“No, no. You don’t get the chance to touch me. You’ve deprived me once, I can do the same.”
“Heh,” Nemesis said, reaching her hands behind her head again, conceding defeat. “Alright then. It’s all on you, Princess. Make yourself come, then.”
Really, Nemesis had to say she’d won the battle as she watched Melinoë start up a tempo of her own, rocking forward, hands reaching to grip Nemesis’s shoulders as she rode Nemesis’ strap; Melinoë shut her eyes, brow furrowed with each rapid thrust of her hips downward, and Nemesis watched, mesmerized, as Melinoë’s breasts bobbed up and down in rhythm.
This — this, this was Melinoë coming undone, no thought in her mind except the raw pleasure of sex, of getting her own damn satisfaction. Finally — finally — she was thinking of herself, and no one else, chasing her own wants, her own desires. Finally. What Nemesis had wanted all along to see, to see Melinoë do…
When Melinoë came close to her climax, her eyes opened, and she looked down — that familiar red and green — her gaze meeting Nemesis’ gaze at just the second before.
She came with a cry, nails scratching Nemesis’ shoulders, and Nemesis’ reached her hands forward then, grasping onto Melinoë’s waist, her own hips rising up to meet Melinoë’s as she helped her down from her high.
Hands careful, Nemesis gently lifted Melinoë off the strap and she lightly set Melinoë down onto the sheets next to her.
The two of them took a moment to breathe, lying next to each other, Melinoë with an arm thrown over her eyes as she caught her breath.
“You drive me insane, you know,” Melinoë said finally.
“You’ve always been insane,” Nemesis scoffed. “You’re trying to stop Time.”
“As are you, last time I checked.”
“Your pillow talk is awful. I’m leaving.” Nemesis pushed herself up to sit, making the movements to take off the strap, when she felt a hand at her shoulder.
She turned to see Melinoë making to push herself up too; then, Nemesis was surprised when Melinoë settled her brow against her shoulder, her eyes closing, her breaths slowing as she let out a long sigh.
“Thank you, Nem.”
“Anytime.”
“Not just for this,” Melinoë continued, eyes still closed, and her fingers lightly brushed down the length of Nemesis’ arm. “For trying to fight Time with me.”
Nemesis chuckled. “You drive me crazy too, guess that’s why I’m doing it.”
At that, Melinoë laughed, a sound so light, it made Nemesis’ heart flutter in her chest. “Well, then. To another night of insanity, it is.” Then she slightly shifted away, opening her eyes and reaching a hand up to cup Nemesis’ face.
Nemesis read the cue well enough, and she leaned in close, letting her lips brush Melinoë’s as she breathed, “To another night, and to many more.”
The kiss was sweet. So, so, so sweet, better than any gift.