神々の悪戯

She aches. Everything about her aches, even her hair. How the hell does hair feel anything? It's dead, it doesn't even have nerve endings. It's the morning after the night before (obviously), and she feels worse now than she had after three rounds of sex, showering, eating, and soaking in the hot-spring (followed by another round of glorious (if she's got to be completely honest with herself) sex).

Four rounds with a power-shackled god…

Hell, what would the night have been like if he'd not had his godly powers bound?

…

Huh, she suddenly has so much more respect for every single mortal woman he's ever had sex with.

Sighing, she stretches slowly, little bits at first, just to warm the muscles up after sleeping all night, moving in waves that get longer and longer until she's fully stretching, just managing to stop before she pulls a muscle. You know that feeling where you ache, but it feels good? Makes you feel alive?

Yeah, that feels gooooood.

She might shriek, big 'might' there, when the bed moves whilst she doesn't, but she easily recognises the groan, given how often she'd heard it the previous night.

Huh.

Oh yeaaaah, she hadn't left after round four, had she?

"Mmm, morning," is muttered as a hand and arm slide onto and over her hip, waist and stomach, a face being pressed against the back of her neck as she's forcibly pulled backwards; what feels like the entire back of her is pressed against warm skin. It's not the worst feeling in the world, especially since a certain body part is waking up alongside its owner.

"Considering the time we finally went to bed," she pauses to try and gather saliva in her mouth, and wow, she's thirsty, "I really don't want to hear the word 'morning'." Another pause as she nuzzles her pillow, rests her hand atop his on her stomach. "How do you know it's morning anyway? Maybe we slept in past noon." She feels him breathe in to answer her, only-

"Dee-Dee, are you up yet?" There's a knock on the door, light to start with, only to repeat a few seconds later with more force. "It's too late for breakfast, but the cafeteria's always open!" Another bout of knocking, less forceful this time though, and she groans, even as she tries to pull the sheet up over her head. "Dee-Dee? Are you-… Cee-Cee?" His nickname for her is said lightly, tentatively, like a test.

"Nooooo, it's too early to deal with your brother," she moans, turning to face Dionysus as she pulls the sheet up over their heads, a large portion of the morning light blocked out. "If we ignore him, will he go away?"

"It's Apollo, so normally no, but-" she's lightly pushed onto her back, part of the sheet over their heads falling to let more light in as he leans over her, pressing his groin against hers, his hardening cock brushing against the curls between her legs, a sudden warmth against her lower lips. "I think I know a way to get him to leave."

She aches, but it's a good ache, and already she can feel her own pulse going faster, her breathing hastening without thought from her; she can't miss how Dionysus' eyes drop to her more rapidly moving chest before flicking back up to meet her gaze.

"Lunch," she states, licking her lips as she looks up at the god above her, his eyes seeming to glow in the shadow of the sheet. His lips meet hers for a few seconds before they're interrupted by another knock on the door. "Apollo! We'll meet-" Her words cut off as Dionysus slides himself inside her smoothly, unceasingly, and it feels like he pushes all her organs up into her throat as he fills her completely. She might have taken him easily before they'd slept, but that was hours ago; her body has begun working to tighten her back up since then, and the move is not done without the faintest twinges of pain.

"We'll meet you for lunch!" Dionysus continues for her, staying as still as possible whilst she clenches and relaxes around his cock. Oh, big dicks might sound amazing in theory, but in practice? But raising his voice whilst inside her? It's not like when he laughed, but ooooh…that voice combined with him moving….

"O-Okay!"

神々の悪戯

If Apollo runs, if he bangs on the door again, if anything happens beyond the edges of the bed, she really doesn't know. Even as she runs her hands up and down Dionysus' back a few hours later, yawning wide enough to hurt the corners of her lips, all she feels is damp warm skin, all she smells is wine and sex-drenched air… All she knows is-

"I didn't realise human bodies could get this empty," Dionysus states as she both hears and feels his stomach rumble…as well as feeling the faintest trickle of semen leave her body to seep into the bedsheet. Thank fuck she can't get pregnant, given the amount he's cum inside her.

"There's a few things I could say to that, but I won't because I'm thirsty, and hungry, and I need to shower, and- Oh fuck, I only have the clothes I wore down here. Urgh, okay, off you get." She punctuates her sentence with a slap across his lower back, and she watches the way he gasps and looks at her and- "No. Just, no. Food, and drink, and a shower, but not necessarily in that order." She forcibly rolls them, placing him onto his back, and continuing the movement until she rolls off the bed onto her feet; the movement dislodges more of his cum, and now she feels it sliding down her inner thighs. In a way, it's gross, but in another way, it's evidence that he's wanted her and had her.

"You look good like that," he calls to her, as she gathers her items of clothing, and she turns to look at him with an eyebrow raised. "Naked. Loose-haired. Dripping with my cum."

"A veritable wet dream for you, I suppose?"

"Dream, memory…reality is always better though." She eyes him, the way he's on his side, leaning on an elbow, a leg bent just enough to draw attention to his cock. Flaccid, thankfully, because she's not sure she's got another round left in her right now. It's taking a good portion of what she has left just to stand upright, to not let her legs tremble like they're undergoing an earthquake.

Actually, if the hot-tub is really a hot-spring, then could they possibly get earthquakes in the Garden? Under the Garden?

"I suppose there's a lot of chances to make dreams into reality," she softly mentions as she wanders out his bedroom into the hall, heading into the bathroom for the second time in about twelve hours. Maybe. Given how long they might have slept for, and how long they'd been…occupied for after Apollo woke them, and how loud her stomach is being…

She does not lock the door, but she is not 'surprised' by him joining her. She's…not sure how to feel about that. There for the sex, but not for the clean-up? Then again, maybe if she'd left the door ajar…

神々の悪戯

She does not sneak back up to her room. She probably could if she tried, walked on her tip-toes in these shoes, or left without her shoes, or carried them in her hand, but-

Sneaking implies she's done something wrong. She hasn't. She's had a good night (and morning), had a really good time with a guy she's wanted for several weeks now, the tension being amped up every time someone interrupted them.

She supposes it's because of society she thinks that way, what with the amount of times the situation is shown in every form of media, be it books, or tv programs, or movies, or even goddamn music videos. It's the way 'everyone' is taught that men are studs if they sleep with someone every time they go out, but a woman is a slut if she does the same thing. The man coming back after a night not in his own bed is celebrated; the woman coming back in last night's clothes is vilified. It's a woman being supposed to save her first time for the man she's going to marry, but a man is encouraged to lose his virginity when he's a teenager, when he's still a boy.

It's not fair. Societies not fair in how it propagates those ideas.

So fuck society and it's bullshit 'rules'.

She lets herself almost saunter, even though she comes across no-one in the hall that she can grin at to show just how much of a fucking good time she's had.

Huh. Fucking.

Hehe.

But what a night for inspiration…at least what she can remember of it. Her fingers are twitching with the desire to sketch layouts, to start mixing paints and resupply her canvas supplies and-

No. First, she needs food. Like needs food or she'll pass out. Art will have to wait for twenty minutes, unfortunately.

神々の悪戯

Art doesn't wait. She sketches out drafts in a new sketchbook; beds and couches and long naked limbs and a hot-spring with a recognisable garden that makes Apollo blush when he peeks over her arm as she eats at half the speed of light in the cafeteria.

She doesn't quite understand why when Apollo is known to have lovers, multiple lovers, both male and female and gods and goddesses. Is it because she's a female doing something so overtly… Well, it's not exactly sexual, because although she's warm for Dionysus' form, she can also definitely appreciate him on an aesthetical aspect. Like, that body…

Then again, Dionysus is his brother…half-brother… Depends on which story you know and follow, she supposes. Oooh, maybe she can ask for the actual history!

History…history…

!

Are there any books of pictures of Dionysus' old temples and stuff in the library? That could be useful, a mix of the old and the new…-ish. Exactly how old is Dionysus though? Or like, does time work differently between earth and Olympus?

Okay, now that would be interes-

"Is that going to be blood?" Loki asks as he leans over her shoulder, and-

"Where the fuck did you come from?!" A thick line gets scratched through the outline of a throne she can imagine Dionysus sitting on, slouching with a bent elbow in the arm, his chin on his hand as the other was outstretched towards the observer. As though reaching for them, to pull them into his world. Her eyes flick around the table, finding- "Where- When the hell did you all get here?" Why are they all here? Is it-

She leans forwards, and…yup. All of them. Except- She hears him before his hand lands on her shoulder (there can only be one person here who'd do that), so she tilts her head slightly, even as she turns back to look up at him.

"Hey."

"Hey." He peeks over her shoulder, and she suppresses the immediate reflex to flip the cover over and cover it with her hands and arms and start chanting that it's 'only an illusion'. "Blood or wine?"

"I don't know yet." She turns properly to look at him, standing there looking down at her, and- Imagining him on the throne…wine or blood? Huh. Actually… She turns back to the sketch, the thick line through the throne, but- "Huh."

"What?" Chairs shuffle as everyone moves around, Apollo grabbing one from another table for Dionysus to sit on, but she misses the screeching noises as she starts small doodles around the throne; the shape of eyes, the angle depending on if it's a seductive look or a ferocious angry one. A smirk or a smile. Outstretched fingers or slightly curved. Armour of some sort, or exposing silk? The slightest change could affect the whole demeanour…

Wait, where's the lead?

She pushes at the end of the pencil, only- Seriously? Didn't she only refill the lead, like, yesterday?

"So did you decide then?" She looks up, Dionysus sitting opposite her with an array of cans and bottle in front of him, some open, others not. There's a platter of sliced cheeses and meats to one side, and she suddenly realises she's a bit peckish. Everyone else however-

"Did I miss something?" They've all gone. A few of the chairs are still pulled up from the table, and there's a few food-stains on the other end of the table, mostly droplets with something that looks like a high-velocity splatter.

"The others had things to do." He leans forwards, elbows resting on the tables and his chin on his joined hands. He looks-

"Whaaaaat?" He doesn't look like he's undressing her, which is weird, because the few times she's come across a lover from the night before (after they've parted ways), all they've ever done is look at her as though they own her, just because they've had sex. No, it's… He looks bemused. What the fuck for though? That is the question.

"Nothing." He slides the platter and a bottle of water over to her, and she accepts them, gratefully, if not with a slightly suspicious gaze.

"Buuuut?"

"No, it's just…" His head cocks, a smile forming at the corner of his lips. "I knew you got into your art," he lifts an eyebrow and she remembers the time she just painted all day without a break, and urgh… "But watching the process develop, the way you decide what looks good what everything else… Did you know you wrinkle your nose when you come across a problem?"

She had; it had been something her previous housemates had mentioned, had tried to turn it into an insult by saying the look crossed her face 'all the time', that she was 'indecisive about her work'. Her rebuttal had been that at least she had artistic thoughts in her head to have problems about; that hadn't gone over too well with them in the end. Had probably been one of the reasons they'd left so soon after, come to think of it.

"It's been mentioned before." She slides a piece of ham into her mouth, watching as his eyes follow the way she licks her fingers. "What time is it anyway?" In fact, why is she even asking him? She pulls her phone out, and- Wow, that's a huge chunk of time gone today, especially when you include the late-start she'd had. "Huh. I need to go to the store. It's open on Sundays, right? I need more canvases. And paint. And probably brushes, now I'm thinking about it."

"Want a hand?"

神々の悪戯

The brushes clatter to the floor as they enter her room, rolling to hit the skirting board as her back hits the wall right next to her door, lips pressing hard against hers, his hands on her hips as her fingers work their way underneath the hem of his shirt. She'd say something about him potentially breaking the new brushes, but a) her mouth is currently occupied, and b) it's not like she paid for them.

It's a dance almost that takes them to her bed, something with a lot of spinning whilst moving in a specific direction, but not something viewable for the public, considering how they strip on the way. Clothes fly off to random places, and she lands with a thump, first her arse then her back in rapid succession being firmly pressed against the duvet.

"Can I?" he asks, pulling back from having his tongue in her mouth, and she feels one of his hands on her inner thigh, paused what feels like miles away, but can only be inches, from a place she really, really wants him to touch. And the fact that he'd even asked, hadn't assumed that having her once meant he could have her whenever he wanted…

"If you don't, I'll kill you," she attempts to threaten, except it comes out more like a rasp. It has the right effect though; he smirks, and those fingers move up and up and- The sharp breath is instinctual, she probably couldn't have stopped it, even if she wanted to, not with the way a fingernail almost scrapes its way across her sensitive walls. And she means sensitive.

"Darcy?" He pulls back from where he'd been lowering his face towards her neck, and that look on his face…

"If you even think about stopping…" All his movement stops as he stares at her, the look so intense that it freezes her to the point where the ever-so-slow movement of his finger inside her… It's no longer pain; it's a slow tingle that starts in her toes, a lack of control as he presses another inside her that makes her thighs shake. Her fingers twitch with the need to just do something, and- "Icy…"

"Oh sweetheart…" The soft croon is almost enough to make her sob, but only almost; it's the way he twists his wrist so that he can rub his thumb against her clit as he slowly yet firmly pumps his fingers in and out of her that makes her cry out. Her thighs automatically close, clenching around his arm, her brain unable to decide if it's excruciating pleasure or exquisite agony. "I have you, I have you. Give yourself over to the frenzy, Darce. Give yourself to me."

The words are pretty, beautiful almost, but not quite enough, (who the fuck can come on command anyway?), but he practically pries her thighs open, which lets him adjust the angle of his wrist and arm and-

"Fuck yes! Fuck, fuck, oh my god!" Her nails catch something, her heart is in her throat, she's sweating like a pig, there's a lock of hair in her mouth, and she can't stop her body from trying to buck all over the place… She catches sight of those glowing green eyes…and it's perfect.

神々の悪戯

"Do you like my hair that much?" she asks him when she blinks awake, and he looks down at her, where he's placed her head on his thighs. The Fall from the Frenzy had hit her hard, especially with the little dribbles of power he'd found he suddenly had access to, the way he'd unconsciously used them on her…

So small an amount that he hadn't even realised he was using it until he was channelling into her body through his fingers and into her sex. But unprepared, so small an amount had been almost too much, especially after these weeks without it, the long-learnt control and direction he'd had over it no longer automatic.

But the way she'd responded…

"The way it gets all twisty and windy… It's like a crown of snakes on your head." She cocks an eyebrow at him, which looks slightly weird at this angle, and-

"'Crown of snakes'? I take it that's important to you somehow then?"

"Just a little bit." Unlike his more pureblood brothers and sisters, he's only a demi-god that's been uplifted to Olympus and the pantheon by the grace of his father, as well as the way he's assembled followers over the centuries, the careful gathering and hoarding of the power granted to him through the prayers and actions. Unlike his siblings, because of his mortal blood, he doesn't remember his birth, or the early years of his childhood, had grown up at an almost human rate, as far as he's aware.

But after his second birth, with his father crowning him with the snakes…

Stupid Hermes with his fast feet and even faster lips. He's fairly certain the saying about 'loose lips sink ships' was originally said about his older brother at some point centuries ago.

"Wouldn't waves be better than these curls then? With the way snakes move?"

"I don't quite know. There's something about the way," he pauses to tug on a curly lock, "the way they stretch and then spring back into shape." He lets the lock fall onto her chest, trailing his fingertips over her belly, the indents of the muscles present there. Around her belly-button, and down, over, across the short tight curls and-

"Hmmmmm… Your turn this time?"

"…With pleasure."

神々の悪戯

Author's Note 28/07/18: 'Wotaku'! OMG, 'Wotaku ni Koi wa Muzukashii'! Everyone who works but is still an otaku about something, be it gaming or manga or anime or whatever, you need to watch this anime. It has so many things in it that several people will find completely relatable. It's only eleven episodes (which completely sucks, but fingers crossed for a season two!) so it's an easy enough anime to binge watch, again, and again, and-

Forgive me! It's just, a person can only take so much high-school romance/drama/magical/sports shit. Something that's actually based around adults, with relatable real-life responsibilities…. It's a nice break, okay?

Anyway, sorry about the slightly longer gaps between chapters this month. Have managed to develop a bit of RSI in my right wrist, and being right-handed… Yeah, it sucks. Slower typing, slower everything. My plan to finish this before uni starts again next term may be about to be scrunched up into a ball and tossed into the rubbish.