#NAJZJA FUCK
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I was dreaming about how Hades Harry would tease Persephone YN for being all cute and shy about wanting sex but she's too bashful to straight up ask him so she's all grabby hands and tucking her face into his neck to hide 😭
SORRY FOR ANY TYPOS WJSJJWJSJWJS
Persephone couldn’t do it.
She just can’t.
She knows it’s dumb and childish of her because she’s an adult, not the mention a goddess, and everybody does it, but she just can’t find the will in her to say it.
Sex isn’t taboo; Y/N knows that much. The heritage and history of the Greek gods was formed primarily out of sex. Hell, the entire world was founded on sex. Gods, minor gods, demigods, monsters, and humans alike. This shouldn’t be something difficult to do.
But Y/N was raised sheltered from the real world most of her life, the only man to ever have touched her in an intimate way being her husband, Hades. Her mother had never spoken much to her about it and no one else had taken it upon themselves to tell her what it was, so one can imagine how confusing her wedding night had been. It had been awkward when they’d arrived to their get-away mansion for their honeymoon and Harry had pushed her against the nearest wall, groping her chest and mumbling things such as, “’M gonna fuck you so good, darling. Gonna make you a proper queen– my queen.” and “Gonna make you come so hard you’ll forget everything else except for my name.”
Persephone had stared at him bewildered, asking what on earth he was doing and what this whole business was with her “coming” (“Har, we’re already here, aren’t we? We just walked through the door… What are you talking about?”).
And that’s when she’d finally received the sex ed speech. Not from her mother or her nanny or the nymphs she often went about with, but from her husband, who’d taken it upon himself to make it a…hands-on experience.
Now, decades upon decades later, even to this day, sex was a contradictory subject for her. Y/N didn’t have a problem with it or anything– as a matter of fact, she loved it�� but actions and words are two very different things.
Doing it wasn’t hard– no, she could definitely do it, and pretty well if a sweaty, breathless Harry had anything to say about it. They’d fucked in some pretty risky places, ranging from the roof of the castle (where Harry had taken her missionary style as she stared up hazily at the cavernous ceiling of the Underworld, the warm light of the eternal fire below dancing across her husband’s glistening, tan skin and lapping at his glossy emerald eyes), to the throne room (a story from another time) and even in a storage closet in the kitchen, where she’d held on to the railings of a bread shelf as Hades took her from behind with his fingers down her throat and his cold rings pinching at her clit.
But saying it was a completely different matter all together. Persephone usually never had to ask for it; her actions showed it fairly well. A drawn out blink here, licking her lips a certain way there, coasting her hand up her thigh in the middle of board meeting as Harry sat across from her, a small smirk tugging his raspberry lips. Sometimes she’d even go as far as palming him under the table during dinner, spooning her pumpkin soup into her mouth nonchalantly as her other hand pumped him over his toga, a small smile threatening to show as she felt his thighs clench and knees accidentally jump up to slam against the bottom of the mahogany dinner table.
Bottom line is, when Y/N wants it, she makes sure she communicates it. But she’d rather show it than say it because speaking the words out made her feel dirty. She doesn’t know why (probably because of the whole “being sheltered from it her whole life” thing) but uttering, “Fuck me” outside of the bedroom made her sick to her stomach. She just can’t find it in her to force the thought out of her mouth.
And the thing is, Harry knows this, and to make it worse, he takes it as a big joke. He finds it hilarious that she can drop to her knees in the middle of her garden and suck him off behind a redbud tree, but can’t come up to him on his throne and whisper, “Come fuck me in the shower” into his ear. With this in mind, he takes it upon himself to make her world a living hell (as if actually living in Hell wasn’t bad enough already).
So on this particular day, when she comes up to him after he’s walking out of a meeting through the giant double doors of the counsel chamber, Hades decides he’d play a bit of cat-and-mouse with her.
Y/N’s intentions are obvious as soon as she’s within five feet of him. He can smell her– a combination of clementine, rose and the soft scent of sex he’s familiar with from being down on his knees and nose-deep between her thighs. Invisible to anyone else’s nose, but alluringly toxic to his own. He can already feel the underside of his balls give a foreshadowing throb.
“Hey, princess,” Harry reaches out an arm for her to snuggle into, pulling her body against his and feeling her long, shimmery, frilly black dress tickle his ankles. “How are y'doing?”
“I’m good. Just…” Persephone leans forward onto her tip toes, hiding her face into the crook of his neck and biting at his earlobe slowly, her tongue licking at the spot right behind his jaw, where she knows he’s weak. “Just missing you right now.”
And that’s it. That’s the cue he should take to make an excuse to his advisors and find his way to their bedroom. But Harry simply tuts at her with fake sadness, pulling back and pressing a sloppy kiss to her forehead because he knows it annoys her. “Don’t worry! I’ll see you later tonight at dinner. Kinda busy with a fresh wave of new arrivals. A boat sank off the shore of the Mediterranean– a war ship. You can guess the numbers are pretty staggering, to say the least.”
Y/N’s arm comes up, wiping agitatedly at the wet spot his lips had left with the back of her hand, her big, innocent eyes giving him a cruel, not-so-innocent glare. “You’re a–”
Harry raises a single eyebrow cautiously, warning her to pick her next words carefully or she’d have to suffer with not seeing him at all.
She gets the message clearly, all anger melting right off her beautiful face. By the way her jaw tightens slightly, he can tell she’s gritting her teeth. Her voice comes out strained and high. “You’re a busy man. I couldn’t expect any less.”
Hades’ mouth twitches into a smug simper, his eyes trailing down his wife’s body in a gloating manner. “Wow. I didn’t like that tone. Was kinda mean and tight. Almost as tight as you.”
That one comment sets Y/N off. All of her annoyance molds into neediness, her eyes going wide and pleading as she clings to his lean arm with one hand, the other fisting the material of his fine silk toga, pulling it away from his chest. “Harry, please come meet me in our room. It’s an…emergency.”
“An emergency, y'say?” His tone is one of faux shock as he pretends to be sifting through the notes from his meeting, all to drag out the torture. “What is it? Did Cerberus get free again? I told Nyx to always double-check his chains but I swear, she’s more of a knobhead than Ares is.”
Persephone just about stomps her foot in frustration. “You know what I mean.”
He turns his body completely to face his queen as he slaps the notebook closed, towering over her smaller frame and looking down at her, bright jade irises full of pretend cluelessness. His words are slow and mocking. “’M afraid I don’t, doll. Sorry. You’re gonna have to be more specific.”
Y/N scowls so hard she can feel the muscles along her mouth ache. The glare she’s delivering to him could kill an entire month’s harvest, easy as a muse could play a flute. “You know I…can’t.”
“Oh, on the contrary, my love,” Harry steps forward, his broad chest pressing her backwards into the nearest corner, where they’re sheltered just out of sight. He brings a hand up to cup her chin, thumbing over her plump bottom lip and digging his two front teeth into his own, the specks of gold in his eyes expanding with raw lust and desire. “I think we both know exactly what you’re capable of.”
She doesn’t mean to, but a tiny whimper stings her tongue. This small sign of weakness is the last nail on her coffin. It’s proof to Hades that she’s close to breaking.
He doesn’t let this chance go to waste, dropping his leather-bound book onto the ground and shoving his now-free hand up her shimmering black silk dress. She lets out a loud gasp, her body surging upwards against the smooth granite of the wall. Harry shoves his thumb in her mouth, telling her quietly to shush. The hand under her dress coasts up her fleshy inner thigh, his chunky rings colder than ice as they bite their way up her skin. His fingers cup her softly, the cold ruby diamond on his middle digit pressing right against the little bulb under all her folds, sending a shiver to wring her spine.
“Harry, no–” Y/N chokes on her desperate plea, feeling him start to rub her at a tender pace. Her eyes roll into the back of her head, her shoulders slumping forward against him as her knees give out. She’s been so wound up the entire day that this small spoonful of ecstasy is enough to send her spiraling.
“No panties, hm?” Harry’s lips ghost over her jaw, nibbling lightly as he trails to her ear. “Naughty, naughty girl.”
Persephone whines over his thumb, tongue lulling around it as she tries to defend herself with words, but is rendered silent. She grasps at his taut arm as he starts to rub her faster, her nails digging into the chiseled muscles of his forearm, the veins under his skin portruding and making him look more intimidating.
She’s trying to tug his hand out feebly, her mind and body in disagreement. Her brain tells her she obviously has to stop him before this goes too far, but her body is telling her to let him play with her. It’s what she’s been craving since she woke up and she was finally getting it.
It turns out, however, that it’s not up to her to decide.
Harry suddenly stops, halting all actions beneath her dress and with his lips. He pulls his hand out from between her dripping thighs, bringing his glistening fingers up to his face. He slowly sinks three of them into his mouth, sucking her juices off with leisure and humming in approval, shimmering eyes fluttering with pleasure. When he speaks, his voice is deep, thick and taunting. “Such a sweet little thing, Y/N. Taste so good f'me.”
Y/N tries to slip out of his grasp, knowing that he’s going to keep this up until she gives in and does what he wants. She’d rather run to the bathing chamber and handle it herself.
But Hades sees her intention, quickly pressing his body harder against her’s to keep her trapped, refusing to let up. He grabs her jaw gently, bringing her face to his so that their noses brush. She can see herself on him, the glass chandelier hanging down from the ceiling shining against the liquid on his lips. His abnormally pink tongue peeks out, licking everything up, and he sucks on them to get whatever is left over. He gropes down her bottom until he’s gripping the back of her thigh, yanking her leg up onto his hip and surging forward until his groin is pressed to her’s.
“Just say it, darling. I know you’re horny for me. Nice and wet, as can be seen. Just do it.”
Persephone winces at the dirty word, feeling filthy already. She can’t say it– she won’t. It’s against her nature and she can’t push past it.
“No,” she puffs out quietly, her warm breath sighing over his lips, causing them to tingle. “I won’t.”
“Yeah?” Harry rocks his hips forward, slamming her back against the sleek black wall, the sudden bulge under his toga pressing up into her heat. His voice is a low, dominant, mocking growl. “How about now?”
Y/N whimpers freely, hating how much she loves everything he’s doing. Hating the way she throbs against him, her body begging to be compliant. Hating the euphoric shots of lightning that travel through her nerves as he digs crescents into her skin with his nails. Hating his soft, fluffy hair and his pretty, full lips and how he has her in the palm of his hand without breaking a fucking sweat. But most of all, hating how warm he is because he’s usually always cold to the touch, only getting warm when he’s around her. And now this same warmth is sinking into her, heating her up from the inside out so that sweat breaks across her hairline, tickling the sides of her neck.
Harry’s looming over her, rocking his hips against her center and igniting a slow simmer at the pit of her stomach that she just can’t shake. He looks incredibly hot with his lips in a cocky smirk, eyes glimmering like a thousand jewels, his hair groomed perfectly messy, his tattooed arms flexing as he man-handles her, and his crown glinting cruelly in the buttery light of the long corridor. And she wants him– fuck it, she wants him. Wants him so much it hurts.
But what finally cracks her is what he says next, in a quiet yet powerful voice that booms over her and seems to shake the very ground they stand on.
“Just say it and I’ll take you right there in the training chamber. Bend you over the sword chest and fuck you so hard you’ll be feeling me in your tummy for the next week. Spill so nice and deep inside that tight little cunt, I’ll be coursing through your veins for a proper month. All you gotta do is tell me you want it, and I’m all yours, baby.”
A painful shudder wracks Y/N’s shoulders, the air around her suddenly rising by thirty degrees. She feels as if her skin were melting right off her shaking bones, Harry’s intense gaze dismantling her entirely. At first when she looks at his eyes, she thinks she’s imagining it, but after her sight focuses, she can see it’s true.
The tiny bronze and golden specks in his eyes are twinkling like stars in the vast sea of willow green that are his irises, the thin band of color that hugs them glowing– actually glowing– with a verdurous, watery light. He’s so intent on having her that he’s unknowingly tapping into some of his godly power, causing his true form to slip through the cracks due to his lust-induced vulnerability. The bright light slowly spreads into the tissue of his irises, causing his eyes to crackle with power, yet it is only a slight show of the energy he holds within him.
His voice sounds as if a thousand people are talking in unison. “Do it.”
Y/N smiles– actually smiles. In the face of his unwavering power, only she could handle him so nonchalantly. “Stop being a show off.”
“It’s not on purpose.” His voice is now back to normal, but his eyes are still glowing faintly. “You do this t'me. Now say it.”
Persephone gulps, letting out a rattling breath. “I want you to…fuck me.”
A satisfied smile spreads across Harry’s beautiful, godly features, dimples pinching awake.
“Where do y'want me? Here?” He dips his tongue into her mouth, feeling her cheeks heating up against his. “Or here?” His hand trails down, giving her ass a good spank. “What about here? Fucking myself in between these?” He gropes at her chest, lapping her nipples over her dress. “Where, Y/N?”
“I-In me. In my…cunt.” She almost flinches at saying the word.
Hades grins. “That’s all y'needed to say, peach.”
He pushes back from the wall, pulling her forward. Her knees are so weak she falls right into his awaiting arms, scowling. He presses a soft peck to the damp crown of her head, murmuring into her hair. “Now go be a good girl and wait for me in the training room. When I get there, I want this,” he tugs at the material of her sleeve, “on the ground and you bent over that chest I mentioned. And don’t you dare touch yourself, got that?”
“Alright,” she squeaks, watching with wide eyes as he pulls out the key to the designated door, dropping it in her open palm.
“Alright.” He returns the phrase with finality, sending her on her way with a light, playful spank to the bottom.
As Y/N makes her way down the corridor, she looks back, calling after him. “What are you gonna do?”
Harry throws a look over his shoulder, blinking at her all slow and seductive, a knowing grin spreading his lips as he bends down and picks up his work book.
“I’m gonna go get the lubricating oil and then, I’m gonna fuck you bloody raw.”
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