Chapter Text
Persephone allowed herself to be led down the labyrinthine hallways of Zeus and Hera’s mansion home on Ares’ arm. His perpetually smug smile made him difficult to decipher, but she got the impression that he was frugal with his words, talking only with purpose, and so she chose to break the silence herself.
“So… where are you taking me?” Persephone said timidly. Of all the times to start losing her nerve…
“Someplace no one will bug us. You’ll see,” was Ares’ cryptic reply.
They turned another corner in silence and suddenly Ares stopped, opening a door on their right and gesturing her inside with an over-exaggerated flourish. “After you!”
The room was an office, and it wasn’t exactly a mystery whose office it was. The room was stupidly extravagant, with gold and crystal fixtures, heavy velvet drapes. In the center of the room was an extra wide marble desk with gold legs.
On one side were two tiny wooden stools. On the other, an enormous gold throne-like chair, studded with crystals and towering over the other two. A luxuriously plush white fur throw carpet decorated the floor under the desk.
But by far the most ridiculous and telling feature was hanging on the back wall behind the desk; a floor to ceiling landscape-oriented oil painting of Zeus, wearing a jewel encrusted crown and strategically draped with fur over his lower half but otherwise nude, long hair spread out on the floor behind him.
The look on his face was obviously meant to be seductive. Persephone started cackling wildly.
“W-what,” She managed in between bouts of laughter. “What in the name of Gaia is up with that!?”
“Well, you know Zeus,” Ares said, trying and failing to keep a straight face. “Always over the top.”
“W-wow. I’m sorry, but can you imagine meeting with him for anything serious in here? You’d have to talk to him with that looking at you over his shoulder. I’d never manage!”
“I think it’s meant to be intimidating.”
“It’s not working!” Persephone was still stifling laughter as she satiated her curiosity by poking around the office. When else might she get a chance like this? Peeking at a photo on top of a ornately decorated console table, she could hardly help it when her eyes lingered on a much younger Hades, looking stern as ever next to his goofy brothers.
It was a candid photo, and he just looked sad next to them, unsmiling and set slightly apart.
“You didn’t have a date tonight?” Persephone asked suddenly, still looking at young, serious Hades and thinking of him out there, looking tired, Minthe clinging to his arm.
“No. Someone was supposed to come. Blew me off, as usual.” Ares said, noncommittal. “It’s complicated, but we’re not what you’d call exclusive, if that’s why you’re asking.”
Persephone looked at him over her shoulder. He’d moved over to the desk, leaning casually against it and tracking her movements almost predatorily, something fiery creeping just behind his eyes.
“I just wanted to be sure. Seems to be a theme tonight, huh? For both of us.”
Ares gave her a wry smile. “Seems like.”
Persephone continued to wander Zeus’ office, stopping next at a statue in the corner of a nude nymph, garlanded with flowers. Ridiculously shapely, with comically large breasts, and hips even wider than Persephone’s. She snorted and moved on to see that while there were more photos scattered around, there were not many of Hades.
Probably for the best. Persephone didn’t want to think about him now anyway.
There was something exciting about this, she thought. Alone in the room with an almost-stranger. A smug, snarky, and incredibly attractive stranger, who she was pretty sure wanted her for more than her conversation. Someone straight forward, who didn’t mince words, and who seemed happy to be with her.
Persephone thought she might be scared, after everything that had happened, but still riding the high of shooting down Apollo she felt strong, capable, and completely in control. Safe. Ares was gruff, and a little rude, but otherwise very decent, easy to be around.
Rounding Ares’ other side there was an identical console table. On this one, several pictures of Hera and their children. None of Hades, but none of Ares either. Probably best not to bring it up, might be a touchy subject, but she filed it away for later.
Having satisfied her compulsion to be nosy, Persephone circled back around, stopping in front of Ares. In front of Zeus’ absurd desk, leaning so casually, an effortless sort of sexiness, with one hip cocked out, arms crossed over his chest.
Persephone in contrast was tense through the shoulders and shaking a little with nerves. She wanted this, gods but she wanted this, and she knew that Ares wanted it too, but how to proceed…
“You always strung this tight?” Ares asked bluntly, and there was that eyebrow again, looking down at her with that shit-eating grin.
“No, this is new.”
“Why do I get the feeling that it isn’t?”
Persephone stepped in closer, eyes locked on his. “You don’t know anything about me.”
“I know a lot about you, after that little display in the ball room.” Ares uncrossed his arms, leaning back onto the desk. “Seems to me that you’ve never just… let go. Let yourself feel angry, be mad at someone when they’ve done you wrong. Not very safe, with the kind of power you’ve got in you. You need an outlet.”
They were getting to it now, after a good stretch of time circling each other, getting closer with each pass. Persephone took another step towards him. “What kind of outlet do you suggest?”
Heat pooled in her belly, a sweet tingle spreading between her legs. Like touching herself in the safety of her bed, but more. Different, new, exhilarating. Persephone wanted him in primal, raw ways that she didn’t know she had in her, and it was clear from the way he licked his lips, his quickened breathing, that he felt the same intense attraction that she did.
The toothy grin that stretched his face made her face flush.
“The sweaty kind.”
“You’re so subtle,” she teased. Crass, but Persephone couldn’t help but laugh. She stepped forward one last time, close enough to reach out and touch him, so close she could feel the heat radiating off of him.
Ares reached out to frame her face with his hands, strong, thick fingers pressing into her cheeks, moving forward so that his nose almost touched her nose. “Who needs subtle?”
Persephone’s brain zeroed in on those two points of contact, the heat generating in the two inches of space between the rest of them. The laughter in his eyes had given way to feral hunger. They were poised to topple over the edge of something volatile, savage.
The way he looked at her like he was drowning, like she was the fresh air between him and suffocation. Persephone wanted to swallow him whole, or crawl inside him, or both. The thought surprised her. She laid her hands over his, swaying with the rise and full of his chest, hungry to touch him, to get close. There was power in that moment, in her hands over his, like he was waiting for her to say it was okay.
All at once they made the move from sharing breath to surging forward into a bruising, crushing press of mouth on hungry mouth. Persephone dug her nails into the top of Ares’ wide hands where they were still tight around her face, and with one rough move she was pushed back until the bare expanse of her shoulders slapped against the office door behind her.
Persephone hissed into Ares’ mouth, the bright pain blooming between her shoulder blades where they’d hit the wall. It should have hurt, but it felt good, as something ravenous awakened in her that needed to be satiated. When his tongue slid into her mouth it felt like the most natural thing in the world, hot and wet as it slipped over her tongue, coaxing her mouth wide.
One long, muscular thigh moved to part her legs and she whined, squeezing him tight between her thighs, an almost involuntary shifting of her hips in a delicious, slow slide against him, and she was glad her body seemed to know what to do even when she wasn’t quite sure herself.
Ares peeled the top of her dress down over her breasts, and she helped him along with a little shimmy. He broke free from her mouth with a gasp and moved to lave his tongue over one stiff nipple through the black lace of her bra, the fabric wet with his spit.
When Persephone felt his teeth she jumped, a choked moan escaping her, the pleasure-pain shooting straight down through her body. She reached around to unclasp her bra, and when she couldn’t quite get it she started laughing in spite of herself. All nerves, struck by the insanity of the situation she found herself in. Ares let out a small laugh too, teeth still worrying at her nipple through the material, but then she was finally able to get at the clasp properly and undo it.
The bra fell to the floor, her breasts bouncing free, and Ares covered them with his hands, grasping them, rubbing his thumbs over her nipples until they were taut and flushed. Persephone whimpered his name, and he let out a pleased hum in response as he covered one nipple with his mouth, swirling circles around it with his warm, spit-slick tongue.
Then she was being turned around by the hips so that her back faced that ridiculous portrait (don’t think about it, don’t think about it), and with a mischievous look on his face Ares began backing her up until the back of her thighs hit the frigid marble of Zeus’ desk.
“Sugar snaps, that’s cold,” Persephone squeaked.
“Sugar snaps, huh?” Ares chuckled, taking off his jacket and laying it down on the desk behind her. Persephone huffed at him and hopped up, scooting back on the warm jacket and then boldly started unbuttoning his shirt, pushing it off his shoulders and onto the floor.
“Don’t make fun of me, you jerk!”
“Wouldn’t dream of it” Ares replied, smug, reaching under her dress to pull it slowly, stopping when it was up around her hips. She was captivated, watching him unwrap her like a present, revealing sleek black garters and french-cut delicate lace panties in stark contrast to her pink thighs.
Persephone was uniquely unprepared for the wicked grin that followed when he wrapped his hands around the seams on either side of her panties and pulled, the delicate fabric ripping effortlessly, and suddenly she was bare to him, exposed to the cool air. The soft pink trail of her pubic hair was already damp with her arousal, and she couldn’t even find it in her to be mad about her underwear.
“Oh,” was the only thing she could come out with as Ares unbuckled his pants, dropping them to the floor, revealing tight black boxer briefs with a lengthy bulge straining at the front of them. Palming himself through the tight fabric, he dropped to his knees and drew her pelvis towards him, burying his face between her thighs.
Persephone was sure she’d black out. It was by some sort of miracle that she didn’t scream, and she didn’t even think of this as a possibility until it was happening to her. Ares and that clever, hot tongue of his lapped at the hard nub of her clitoris, circling it, licking and sucking, occasionally pausing to push inside her, until she was a writhing, mewling mess, all sensation gone except what was going on between her thighs.
It was indescribable. Pleasure building steady inside her, dancing on the edge of release, until she almost couldn’t take it anymore. Persephone fell back, head hitting the desk with a smack, and when Ares pulled her legs over his shoulders, looping his thumbs under the garters he'd left her wearing, she gripped his hair in her hands, tugging at it until he groaned.
When her orgasm ripped through her it was so unlike anything she’d experienced before, her interior muscles shuddering and contracting and her legs shaking. Persephone clenched her thighs together around Ares' head.
“ARES!”
Then he was gone, pulling away from her to remove his underwear, cock springing to attention against his belly. It was big, not that she had much by way of reference points, flushed a sunset red and dark at the top. When she looked at it it twitched a little as if approving of the attention. Curious, she wrapped her hands around the length of it and squeezed.
Ares grabbed her wrist, gritting his teeth. “Later. As much as I appreciate the thought, this isn’t going to last if you do that. Not with those noises you were making.”
The word later floated across her fuzzy consciousness, but at some point Ares had produced a condom from… somewhere. She didn’t think too hard on it, but she was grateful. Persephone watched with interest as he rolled it down until it wrapped him snugly down to the base of his cock. With several more long, open-mouthed kisses, showing incredible restraint, he leaned her back ever so slightly and positioned himself at her opening.
One shuddering breath, then two. A lingering kiss and he slid into her slow, almost gentle, so much more gentle than he’d been thus far. Persephone closed her eyes, steadied her breath waiting for pain, but she was more than ready, slick with want, and even when Ares was buried deep inside of her she didn’t feel the pain she’d expected.
“Fucking fates Persephone, you feel amazing,” Ares murmured above her. Persephone opened her eyes to see him, and he was looking down at her like a man possessed. He stayed there for a moment, not moving, gasping for breath, and her heart grew heavy— she had done this, this was her. “You’re a fucking force of nature. Out there in that ball room. You’re so fucking powerful and I don’t even think you realize how you look when you let go.”
Persephone shuddered, loosing a low and wanton moan. She didn’t know, didn’t know it could feel like this, didn’t know what the power she had over someone, even someone so powerful. Didn’t know what had been taken from her. Didn’t know—
Ares pulled back, back back, almost entirely removed from her, just the swollen tip of his cock inside, and then slammed back into her with sharp force, the clap of his skin on hers echoing in the posh office. Persephone cried out, and the stretch stung a little when he pushed back in, but it was a good sort of hurt. That feeling rising again in her belly as Ares paused again, looking into her eyes, and continuing a gruff string of praises just for her.
“You’re so wet for me, so hot and fucking tight. Your face when you came apart for me. Could live on that forever, just thinking about that look, you’re a goddamn miracle.”
Ares pulled all the way out, and this time he reached a slick hand between them to grab his cock and rub the tip against her throbbing clit, circling, before pressing back inside. Clap, he slammed into her again, and Persephone realized the whimper she’d heard had come from her own mouth. Everything was so much, too much, and she could feel her insides trembling, clenching, and she keened as another orgasm wracked through her.
Ares cupped her cheek with one hand and she was coming with a strangled sob. After a moment of watching her face intently, he stifled her gasps with a quick kiss. “So good. I love your face when you come for me. So fucking beautiful.” Instead of pausing this time he began moving at a steady pace, pulling all the way out to the tip and then snapping his hips back into her.
The opulent marble desk creaked underneath them. Ares rose up to take hold of her hips, gripping the fleshy skin, fat bunching up pleasingly under his hands, and he started pulling her as he pushed. With Ares’ jacket under her Persephone slid a bit on the slippery surface, and she put one hand across her bouncing breasts, the other scrabbling for purchase to steady her, bracing on the top edge of the desk, back arching.
A thought possessed her. One she couldn’t let go of once she’d had it, and she surged up to curl around Ares at the end of the deck, arms wrapped around his neck, body pressed to the length of his torso, thighs open wide and framing his hips. She took his face in her hands and kissed him, a sloppy half-wild slide of mouths, and pulled back to look at him.
“I want— I want—“ Persephone couldn’t quite get it out, and Ares chuckled, nipping playfully at her lower lip but not relenting.
“What do you want, little spitfire? What can I do for you.”
Fueled by a new and exciting self-confidence, Persephone grinned and put both hands on his chest to push him back. Ares groaned, surprised, as his cock slipped out of her, slapping wet and glistening against his belly.
“Sit,” Persephone commanded, feeling brave, and she dumped off of the desk with a clack of heels as she guided him towards Zeus’ stupidly elaborate gold chair. Ares complied wordlessly, eyebrows raised, a surprised smile ghosting his mouth. Ares plopped into it with his legs spread wide. A string of clear fluid dribbled from the tip of his twitching cock and mixing with the sticky wetness that coated it.
Persephone paused to look at him, all that long lean muscle, a slight tremble in his taut belly, all manner of scars she hadn’t noticed before across his chest and shoulders. Broad, and big. Strong. With his eyes fixed on hers, Ares took his cock in one hand and began pumping it in a tight, insistent fist. Persephone was shivering, but not because she was cold.
Would he let her have this? Would it be okay? Looking down at him she thought, yes. Right now he might let her do just about anything. Maybe she should just dive in, not think about it…
Ares let out a desperate groan, squeezed himself, looking up at her with half-closed eyes. Resolved to get what she wanted, Persephone darted forward, climbing into Ares’ lap. It must have been alright because he positioned his cock for her, and she slid down onto him, a whole new hosts of sensations hitting her as he bottomed out. The change of angle hit a different part of her, pressing harder forward, and her clit pressed against him in the most delicious way.
The throne-like chair was plenty wide and armless, and she felt tiny next to Ares, in that chair where her feet even in heels couldn’t touch the ground. Small, but not helpless. Worshipped by this powerful God. When she wriggled her hips experimentally, Ares let out a choked moan, moving his hands to cup her plush ass. He lifted her and without ceremony dropped her back onto him with a slick slap, letting gravity do its work.
Persephone saw stars, digging her nails into the hard plane of his shoulders, and before long she’d gotten the hang of his guiding rhythm, the undulating swing of her hips that slid her up and down on his cock.
Ares had no more filthy praises for her, having devolved into low and breathy moans, biting at his lower lip. One hand remained squeezing her ass, the other moved to explore the rest of her body as she moved. Pinching one nipple, rubbing it, cupping the weight of her breast. Moving down her navel with just his index finger, going down where he slipped his thumb into her folds to find her clit and rub gentle circles into the tiny nub of wet flesh.
What happened next was a garbled mess of sensations, more than she could keep track of. Vision blurry around the edges, Persephone was compelled to start moving frantically, bouncing on his cock, all wet squelching and insistent moans and the drag of hands on slick-sweat skin.
The smell of them both mingling together in the warm, humid air between them, that heady smell of their arousal and the spicy-cinnamon-earthy smell of his cologne and the soft floral smell that clung to her skin filling her nose, making it impossible to breath without breathing them in until every sense was overtaken by their coupling.
When Persephone came a second time her hips stuttered, a sob ripping its way out of her, and she couldn’t help but stop moving as her orgasm took her. Ares’ sharp nails dug into her hips, fingers leaving light bruises as he scrambled to grab at any part of her he could hold on to. While she stilled, overstimulated, he plowed into her, unyielding, frantic.
Persephone grabbed Ares’ face in her hands, lips wet and parted and swollen, eyes gone crimson and hazy with a new surge of power. The red vines which had receded after the run-in with Apollo had returned, and he was shaking. She was drunk on the thrill of what she was doing to him, buzzing with it, as she looked into the eyes of the God of War and watched him come apart.
“Come on, Ares. I want… I want to hear you say my name. I want to see your face when you come,” Persephone murmured, capturing his mouth in a quick, open mouthed kiss.
“Persephone!” To her delight he shouted rather than said her name, and she could feel his cock throbbing. One thrust, then another, and then faltering, a third clumsy thrust and he was pulsing into her, filling the condom with hot semen, a strange but pleasant feeling.
Ares, imposing with his height and the broadness of him, was shuddering in her arms, head pillowed between her breasts, chest heaving as he shook through aftershocks of his orgasm. Persephone pulled him closer, trying her best to press her whole body to his. He lifted her off of his softening cock to reach between them and carefully pull the condom off, tossing it in a trash can under the desk, before wrapping his arms around her, embracing her tightly.
After several minutes of sated, trembling silence, the whole of what had just happened sort of caught up with her, and an unbidden giggle bubbled up in her throat. The red vines flowers, tiny crimson flowers that began to tumble from her hair, which she hadn’t noticed had grown over a foot since they started.
Ares began laughing too, a deep and breathy chuckle, and she pulled back to look at his face. Blissed out, is what he was. Flushed and happy. At least he wasn’t mad at her for laughing.
“Did that just happen?” Persephone asked, in between giggles.
“Hynngh,” was the response Ares came up with, words caught in his throat. He cleared it, and tried again, saying hoarsely, “Yes, little spitfire, it certainly did.”
Their laughter trailed off into a comfortable silence. A tear ran down her cheek. Ares wiped it away with his thumb.
“You okay?”
“Sorry. Not sad, just overwhelmed. That was— Ares, that was amazing.” That self-satisfied smile returned, and Ares leaned back as if to get a better look at her face. She gave him a goofy smile. “You’re going to think I’m silly. I’ve never felt so in control. I never thought it could be like that, that empowering. It was just…”
Persephone trailed off with a happy sigh, face flushing, and she wished she could somehow stop the tiny red flowers that were blooming out of control in her hair. Ares regarded her carefully. “M’not much for words but you’re— you’re something else. We both came to this party expecting disappointment. I don’t know about you, but I’m not leaving disappointed.” Ares sighed, shaking his head “Whoever you were waiting for, he’s an asshole. An asshole who, it sounds like, isn’t any good at fucking, because the problem definitely isn’t you. ”
Persephone considered his words for a moment. “We’ve never had sex,” she confided, opting for honesty in the afterglow. The silence was more than a little awkward. Ares was staring, gaping really.
“What the hell is he waiting for?”
“We’re not at that point yet. We’re still in some flirting limbo, and it feels like we’re never going to get out of it. Anyway, I should probably tell you you, I’ve never really… had sex. Before today.”
“WHAT?” Ares sat up, almost toppling her off of him.
“Until recently I was supposed to be one of the Goddesses of Eternal Maidenhood, but I quit my scholarship because I knew it wasn’t what I wanted, and if feels like this guy is never going to make a move or choose me at all, and—“ Ares pressed a finger to her mouth.
“Wait, shut up for just a minute. You’re a virgin, and you let me fuck you on a desk?”
Anger started bubbling up inside of her. She could recognize it, now, the way it ate away at the edges of her polite resolve. She smacked his hand away. “Stop that. I’m not a virgin, I just haven’t had sex. And yeah, I let you. Me. I wanted this, on my terms. I didn’t tell you because I didn’t need you treating me like I might break.”
Ares’ brow furrowed, leveling her with an intense stare. Nudity didn’t bother her, not really, but under his gaze in that moment she felt naked, laid bare in a way that had nothing to do with her exposed body. She saw the exact moment his brain caught up with what she was saying.
“You didn’t — you should have — eugh,” Ares rubbed his temples, struggling to find the words. “It’s obvious there’s a lot going on there, and I won’t pry. I trust your judgement, you know yourself better and what you want better than I do. But I’d have never done it this way if I knew, Persephone. I’d have at least been a little… I don’t know, gentler. Maybe taken you to my room instead of Zeus’ desk for a laugh.”
“At no point did I feel unsafe, or uncomfortable,” Persephone said simply, reaching up to run her hand through his soft curls. “You were exactly what I needed you to be.”
The silence was a long one. After some time Ares grasped her hips, massaging the soft fleshy curves, and he moved to press a kiss to the crook of her neck. Then without warning he stood up, grabbing her hips and lifting her up with him into his arms.
Persephone let out an incredibly undignified yelp as she was, once again, picked up like she didn't weigh a thing. Her arms wrapped around his neck, hanging on for dear life.
“W-what are you doing?”
“I’m not done with you. But if I’m going to fuck you again tonight, we’re going to do it the right way this time,” Ares growled. Persephone wriggled in his arms, and he clutched her all the more tightly to him as he carried her out of Zeus' office.