thanatossimp

[thanatossimp]

What is Death to a Fury? - Thanatos/Megaera

Summary: Megaera enjoys playing with Thanatos. Thanatos enjoys being played with. He submits, wholeheartedly, to her and obeys her rules until he can no longer. And Megaera reveals a softer side.

Warnings: dom/sub dynamic, edging, hand job, frottage, p in v sex, ruined orgasm, slight embarrassment/humiliation

Word Count: 3k

Also on AO3

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Megaera was unlike any of Thanatos’ previous, or current, partners. Feminine, yes, but unafraid of controlling and dominating very death himself, Zagreus was far too uncertain and Ares far too enamoured. She knew him perhaps even better than he knew himself and she was one of the few he trusted wholeheartedly, and she him.

Within the eerie darkness of Megaera’s chamber, undressed of regalia, leggings and chiton, Thanatos is relaxed, well, as much as to be expected from the high strung personification of gentle death. His cheeks are already a soft golden hue, on his knees thankfully on Megaera’s bed rather than the cool, hard flooring this time, awaiting her next action or, most likely, order.

“You’re going to be good for me, aren’t you, Than?” Megaera drawls, and it isn’t a question at all, he knows, but an order poised as if he had any choice in the matter. Nevertheless, he agrees with a nod of his head, already shy under her scrutinising, piercing gaze.

Sharp nails grasp gently at his jaw, not painful but forcing his gaze to meet hers. Megaera’s expression is neutral verging on judgemental, as usual, and Thanatos cannot help but swallow out of nervousness and blink up at her, waiting and expectant.

“Say it.”

“I’ll be good, mistress” Thanatos whispers, barely audible between the two of them but the small smirk that graces Megaera’s lips is gratification enough.

She is silent as she pulls away, leaving Thanatos with a cool shiver wracking his body, creating goosebumps in its wake. He is impatient, silently, and she knows, Megaera can read him so easily it is almost embarrassing. The faint smile doesn’t leave her as she gets a hand on him, almost cool lithe fingers wrap around his half hard cock and he fights, stomach muscles clenching, not to thrust into her grasp, cock eagerly twitching and hardening under the familiar touch.

Megaera is almost silent in her ministrations, fingers slicking with pre-come and her pacing quickening ever so slightly. Thanatos’ hips twitch unconsciously, his mouth slightly agape with soft gasps and intakes of breath. He is quiet to start off with, Megaera knows, it is his body language that tells – the way his eyes flutter closed, hips twitching, golden flush travelling down his chest. He is cute and comfortably familiar in his expressions, it fills a sort of warmth in Megaera.

So, she pauses, grip tightening, “tell me when you’re close,” she demands.

“Yes, mistress, I-”

“And nothing else unless you want to stop,” Megaera continues, firm and unmoving, both vocally and physically, “got it?”

Thanatos nods silently, holding himself as still as possible under Megaera’s grasp despite the shiver that wracks through him.

“Good boy.”

Her hand is warmer now, slicked ever so slightly with the embarrassingly copious amount of pre-come allowing for a gentler slide across his cock. It’s nice, familiar in a way that only Megaera is – patient and calm where Zagreus most definitely is not and controlling in a way that Zagreus can never accomplish (no matter how many times he attempts to - it is cute and somewhat effective at times, Thanatos will admit).

Megaera is unrelenting in her touch despite her orders, knowing it is on him to say and not let himself reach the cusp of his orgasm too soon. Thanatos is trustworthy and honest, unlike Zagreus. Yet, he is rocking into her touch, hips canting in a reserved desperate manner, eager to be pleased yet all too eager to please her more so. Only when he starts to stutter and his gasps take on a more verbal nature does she slow, squeezing at the base of his cock teasingly.

“Meg- ah, mistress, close, I’m- fuck,” Thanatos whispers out, voice shy yet needy in a very Thanatos way. Words pitching off with an embarrassingly high whine when Megaera removes her hand rather suddenly, leaving his cock exposed, wet, and twitching but he does not chase her touch which earns him a more softly spoken praise of “good boy” from her.

He watches as she undresses, hands sweating where they rest of his knees, wiping them off on the sheets may be allowed but he doesn’t want to ruin his chances of coming today - or tonight. The softness of her cool blue skin slowly revealed through the drop of cloth and regalia, not done in a teasing fashion but rather casually and slowly. Megaera does know just how to play him - seemingly uninterested until she is very, very interested.

Still, he keeps his mouth shut as ordered and Megaera looks him up and down in turn, as if expecting him to break said orders, an eyebrow quirking up in an odd mix of amusement and satisfaction.

“You’re being especially good today, Than,” she quips, casually, as her hand makes contact with his chest, urging him back onto his ass and his legs uncurl from underneath him, “you must really want to come.”

Wisely Thanatos still remains silent, nodding his head a little, just enough for white hairs to scrape his forehead and cheeks, gently pushed away with manicured fingernails in an odd moment of softness from her. He has come to love her short moments of softness with him.

“Good boy,” she says for his efforts, climbing so gracefully atop of him, legs either side his thighs and her cunt dangerously close to his cock, and she’s smiling down at him with a vicious playfulness in her eyes, “you can touch.”

His hands are immediately at her thighs, soft and smooth under the cool sweat of his palms, and her weight atop of him is almost overwhelming. She is warm, so very warm, juxtaposed with Thanatos’ own cool nature. His hands trace aimless little patterns on her thighs, not trailing too far yet, yet his gaze falters between her chest and her cunt.

Almost as if she can hear what he is thinking - and he knows she can’t, right? - her own hands, perfect and slender and cruel, grope at her own chest, grasping the swell of his breasts and pinching at those golden pierced nipples that make his mouth so dry. One of her hands falls away to grasp rather harshly in Thanatos’ hair and he is able to suck in a pained gasp of air before he is led towards her chest, easily taking the solitary nipple into his mouth with a soft moan of contentment.

His other hand travels upwards, past hard muscle and soft skin, to the breast unoccupied by his mouth, displacing her own hand with his own in turn, pinching and caressing at the skin. His eyes are closed but he can feel the heat of Megaera’s gaze on him, lustful and possessive and perhaps a little soft too, though neither would admit it. Thanatos knows she is not the one to be overly touched and brought pleasure in this scene today, though if he asked she would undoubtedly say yes, but she is in control of him, he will do anything she asks of him, verbally or otherwise, even if freely touching her like this, softly, sensually, makes his cock leak all more pathetically into her now awaiting grasp.

Thanatos does gasp at the touch this time, lips detaching from the latch they had on her breast. The touch is barely there, the faint featherlight caress of her fingertips against the slick head of his cock, teasing but assuring that he is under her control, under her thumb, literally. His hips twitch just barely under her weight, not gaining much movement, but her grasp leaves enough for him to brush against her thigh, and the accidental stimulation, forbidden and unintended, draws a choked sort of sound from him.

Thanatos flushes out of embarrassment, gazing up apologetically at Megaera, up at that sadistic, hungry grin.

“Maybe I should let you come like this, hm, Than?” Megeara drawls, her voice thicker with arousal and need with only an edge of shakiness that perhaps Thanatos is imagining, “let you spend yourself all over my thigh like a pathetic little puppy, huh?”

The words, though filthy and downright humiliating, make Thanatos shiver, doing just as she has said, his cock bumping then dragging across the inner part of her thigh, leaving a wet trail behind. And he could, undoubtedly, finish just as easily against her soft thigh as she says.

Still, he shakes his head no.

“No?” Megeara asks, that tone of her teasing and playful, “what if we make a deal, hm? You can rut yourself up against me, just like this, until you get so close to coming, then if you have the restraint to pull yourself away before you come I’ll let you fuck me.”

Thanatos nods, frantic and desperate, wanting- no, needing the very heat of Megaera’s core.

His hands carelessly fumble back towards her hips, holding her gently but steady enough, and she lets him, of course, eager to see just what a mess Thanatos will make of himself, even without her assistance. And he knows he looks a sight, flushed golden from arousal and embarrassment, rational mind cast aside in favour of the pathetic, uncoordinated rolls of his hips, pressing his aching cock flush against her thigh. The angle is awkward and his thighs start to burn with the exertion but it is worth the way his cock drags against the soft, plush skin of Megaera’s thighs and he thinks, distantly, if she would let him do this again, on purpose next time, as a reward.

“That’s it, Than, you’re doing such a good job,” Megaera coos, her fingers gentle in his hair where she caresses his scalp and teases the silky strands, comforting in a strange juxtaposition to the way her nails dig into his side, enough to sting but not enough to puncture the skin. It hurts but it’s so gentle, and his cock responds in kind to the stimulation, direct and otherwise, leaking and twitching and-

He pulls back sharply, tearing his hair from Megaera’s hold and his own hands keep her at a safe distance until he knows she will not follow him, then he collapses under himself without her to keep him upright. His back hits the mattress, fingers tangling into the sheets, his breathing hard and unsteady, and his cock lies, flushed and untouched, against his stomach, creating another embarrassing smear of pre-come.

Perhaps, he thinks closing his eyes for a moment just to regain his senses from the overwhelming thrum of arousal in his very veins, she would punish him for his actions in any other circumstances, pushing her away, not vocalising himself coming so very close to the cusp of his orgasm, just from rutting against her thigh. How embarrassing.

Instead, when Thanatos opens his eyes, Megaera is still sitting atop him, almost, up on her knees hovering over his thighs, her thigh glistening from his actions and her own cunt soaking visibly from where it is spread over Thanatos. He cannot help wetting his lips, wanting her all the more knowing he did this, he brought her to this state of arousal, he feels powerful even beneath her.

“Soon, I promise,” she says, eyes full of something akin to humour as she looks between Thanatos’ face, his mouth, and his cock, “first, I promised you something else.”

She moves, languished and slow, further up his body, the heat of her pussy so close and dangerous to his cock.

“Or maybe you would rather put that pretty mouth to good use and finish by my hand,” Megaera continues, that wicked smirk reappearing aided by the faint drag of the lips of her cunt against the hot length of his cock, only serving to further tease and spread their combined slick, “I’m sure it would be just as good.”

Thanatos freezes under her hands against his chest, thumbing at hard lines of muscle and his soft chest, and he slips up, “please, Meg, please, I need- I can’t- please.” The words tumble out, garbled and whiney, humiliating in the way it sounds foreign to his own ears.

Megaera clasps a hand over his mouth, silencing him quickly and effectively.

“Disobeying me, Than, so late in the game?” She teases, but it’s gentler, softer, but Thanatos’ heart beats hard and fast, and his cock twitches in kind. He knows she could punish him, should punish him. Instead, her hand is around his cock, firm and steadying, and her cunt is hot and slick against him for a moment, then two, then she is sliding down onto him with ease.

Had it not been for the grasp of Megaera’s hand on his mouth the whimper of a moan that left him would have been louder, more embarrassing. Still his hips jerk upwards into her heat, instinctive and uncoordinated, his body taking over the sole want for pleasure after being denied already.

“I’ll let you off this time because you’ve been so good for me, Than,” Megaera whispers, almost in mocking, as she leans down and removes her hand from his mouth to hear those soft whimpers and whines that escape his parted lips, “but next time I might not be so kind.” 

He hopes she wouldn’t dare to think of going easy on him. Not now, not next time, not ever.

Thanatos does not have a moment to even consider her leniency any longer before she is grinding on his cock, fluid in her practised movements and the slick sound of their coupling is obscene. There would have been a time he would have been embarrassed, maybe even humiliated, by the natural sounds of sex, not any more, it takes a bit more, if only a little more.

Her name is almost on his lips, so close, but he holds back lest he completely revoke his own orgasm. Instead Thanatos whines, whimpers, moans at the ministrations of the fury atop of him - her thighs, strong, bracketed either side of him, holding herself up with her hands grasping back at his thighs, giving him the gorgeous view of pale blue skin stretched upwards, golden jewellery shining in the candle light, her breasts moving with each bounce from her or thrust from him. He doesn’t touch though. Hands firmly planted on the mattress, sheets tangled between his fingers.

It’s all he can do not to come.

The air is thick, suffocating almost, his muscles tense and clench then ache from the action, coated in sweat, wisps of white hair clinging to his forehead and cheeks, painted golden in a flush from the tips of his ears to his chest. His eyes dart from looking up, admiringly, at Megaera - who watches him all the same, perhaps more predatory but affectionate - to where they connect, intimately. She is wet, so wet that he is too now, cock dripping not only from his own arousal and continuous edging but her slick too.

The sight is almost too much yet Thanatos cannot look away, his hips twitching, wanting more of the sweet, wet heat that envelops his cock, needing to be buried deep inside of her. Except he’s good, obedient, and hers.

“Meg- I’m going to- stop, I’m-”

She does, quickly, perhaps too quickly, pulling herself off his cock, leaving her legs spread and cunt on display as she leans back on her arms. And he cannot help it, his cock twitches a valiant effort at the absences of her heat, spurting quick and all too easily onto his own abdomen. Thanatos whines, a truly pathetic little thing that is lost to himself over the thrum of ecstasy in his ears, his mind frazzled, body pushed to breaking point. He does not even move his hands to attempt to help himself - nor does she - accepting it as he comes, painting himself in streaks of white, back arching and hips twitching for a stimulation that will not come.

“Fuck.” is all that escapes him in a breath as he relaxes against the sweat soaked sheets, golden eyes closed from her undoubtedly smug look.

Megaera drops down hotly on his thighs, low enough, just resting slightly and not putting her full weight down. 

“Now, I must admit that wasn’t part of my plan,” she says, voice taking on something softer, sweeter even, and he feels a hand on the side of his ribs, gentle and comforting, “but I would be lying if I said that wasn’t one of the hottest things I’ve ever seen and I would love to see it again, with your permission of course, and I want to make it happen on purpose next time.”

Thanatos blinks his eyes open at that admission from her, almost frightened to find himself teary eyed, worried perhaps under the release of his climax. She looks gentler, her lips pulled into a smile rather than a smirk, her body curved down just slightly towards him, shielding him, protecting him.

“So you’re not mad?” he asks, for his own peace of mind later, no doubt, when the anxieties are keen to scramble back to him when he is alone.

Her finger tips brush his cheekbone, dragging white hairs away with it, then with the other side.

“Of course not,” Megaera reassures, “you did as I asked, you even told me when you were close to climax, we both were just perhaps a little too caught up in the moment.”

Thanatos blinks. Then again. He is sure Megaera, the vicious fury, dominant lover, taker of no one’s shit, looks embarrassed. But she has no right to, no reason to, why would she… oh.

“Oh,” Thanatos breathes out, dumbfounded, stupefied that someone like Megaera even had the ability to get so lost in sex with the likes of him that she lost focus of her own goal.

Then in a moment her eyes are rolling, smirk returning to her features, and she speaks up again, “now, why don’t we put your mouth to good use and then maybe I’ll consider giving you a proper orgasm now? Hm?”

“Yes, mistress.”

#megthan #thanmeg #hades nsfw #hadesnsfw #dom megaera #sub thanatos #edging #frottage #ruined orgasm #poor baby than #he enjoys it though #megaera #thanatos #el writes #thanatossimp

[thanatossimp]

A Brotherly Discipline - Hypnos/Thanatos/Charon

Summary: For Hypnos this is punishment. Only it doesn't quite feel like it when his brothers make such a pretty picture in front of him. He only wishes he was allowed to touch.

Warnings: incest, bondage, teasing, dirty talk, embarrassment, overstimulation, riding, blow job

Word count: 3.8k

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In his defence, Hypnos has never had a good sense of judgement or known when best to shut his mouth, even around his brothers. Especially around his brothers. He pushes them a bit too far, teasing a little too much, a little too loudly, a little too forcefully. How can he not when it is so fun? When Than will flush that pretty gold and hide under his hood, even glaring at Hypnos in a way he knows scares shades and mortals alike, he just giggles. Or when Charon will smack him upside the head in that playful yet slightly too hard way, pulling him upright by his wrist until he still only comes to chest height and gives him a stern ‘talking’ to. Oh gods, does that turn him on.

So, maybe it’s not a lapse in judgement but Hypnos leans into his easy teasing nature to rile his brothers up. Yet, it might not always be a good idea, he knows, but the uncertainty of the repercussions of his actions makes it all more fun. Something to break up the mundanity of his life in the underworld.

He isn’t surprised then when he’s woken with a start and is up on his feet quicker than he can get his bearings, stumbling over himself to find his footing. Yet, Charon’s hand doesn’t let go of his arm, dragging him along with Thanatos trailing obediently beside him, both silent as they escape the main hallways of the house of Hades.

“Hey! What’s-” Hypnos starts, indignant and voice high pitched. He recognises he’s being pulled towards his twin brother’s room rather than the elder’s, maybe this was more Thanatos’ plan then but, gods, if Charon wasn’t a great executioner.

As if following his intimate thoughts Charon groans, low yet quiet still in the communal hallways of the house, warning yet vague. But Hypnos knows his fate is already set in stone, most likely that his two other brothers have discussed his outcome and, well, he welcomes it. Easily he lets himself be led, unceremoniously hauled into Thanatos’ dark room and onto the bed, he doesn’t move at all, letting himself get comfortable against dark sheets and too few pillows for his liking.

Hypnos watches as Charon shuts and locks the door whilst Thanatos casually lights some candles scattered around the room - it is nice mood lighting, Hypnos will admit.

“To what do I owe the pleasure, dearest brothers?” Hypnos asks, smirk clear on his face and teasing in his voice - he knows, or at least he can guess, some of the things that has gotten him, once again, in this position. Thanatos blinking down apprehensively at him, hungry yet uncertain as he casts a glance towards Charon. And Charon’s piercing gaze does not falter from Hypnos at all, even as he holds out an expectant hand towards Thanatos.

A silent request then as Thanatos gladly moves, rifling through a drawer, returning to Charon’s side at the foot of the bed with ropes - dark yet vibrant purple in colour - and Hypnos is perhaps all too familiar with them. His heart sinks and leaps all at once with anticipation, need, arousal, want, maybe a little fear but it is drowned out by the way his brothers look at him, as if he is something to devour.

Now he doesn’t think he’s been particularly good. That is not his thing. That’s more of Thanatos’ department - eager to please whereas Hypnos prefers to tease. A self-proclaimed brat if anything. But he hopes his brothers are feeling generous.

“Strip.” The order comes from Thanatos, quiet but no less stern than if Charon had ordered him. And Hypnos obliges all the same, under the heated gaze of the two brothers he eagerly sheds himself of his cloak, chiton, leggings, undergarments, even his eye mask he forgets is often on his head - all unceremoniously collapsing to the floor as he does not even make to move from the bed to set them aside.

Hypnos watches them watching him - Thanatos looks a little unsettled by his piling of clothes onto his neat floor but his gaze falters into something needier with every inch of Hypnos’ cool blue tinted skin that is revealed. Charon, on the other hand, gives barely anything away, unfortunately, save from the excess of purple vapour exhaled that lets Hypnos know he is enjoying the sight.

He reclines back against the pillows, easily, unashamed of his splayed out form, half hard cock exposed and resting against his thigh. His mouth opens, wanting to goad or tease either brother - Thanatos is always fun but with Charon he gets more results. But before he can, the unspoken plan is seemingly in place, Charon moves, ropes in hand, and pulls Hypnos’ hands in front of himself none too gently.

The rope is smooth around his wrists, tightening too much before loosening under Charon’s fingers until his hands are bound almost together. He moves easily with a pull of the excess rope in Charon’s hands, arms pulled out in front of himself before, slowly and carefully, being raised above his head, the position forcing him to lie back flush against the pillows. Hypnos swallows, watching as the rope is tied, slowly but with practised ease, to the headboard above him, he flexes his fingers then tests a pull against the binds - loose enough to feel and budge slightly but he could not escape even if he wanted to.

His cock twitches eagerly and in plain view at the simple and careful bondage, even as Charon pulls away and stops becoming the only thing Hypnos can see. He does chance a glance up before his older brother turns, frustrated by the lack of attention now, yet he knows to stay quiet.

Thanatos had not moved, seemingly content in watching the scene play over - at least the start of it - though he eagerly leans into Charon as he returns to his side, his shorter by far frame cradled softly by their elder brother and Hypnos feels an echo of envy but the forefront of anticipation outweighs it. He watches, for it’s all he can do, the mimic of a kiss between them, soft and patient in a way Hypnos can never be, but Charon’s hands inch under Thanatos’ clothing, pushing his hood away before divesting him of his chiton, golden regalia slowly following.

Each reveal of grey skin accompanied by soft touches, barely there scratches of nails, harsh pads of fingers and callouses from countless hours of manual labour - Thanatos revels in it, arching into touches even after he’s naked and visibly hard. Thanatos’ hands don’t caress in the same way, they grasp and fist almost impatiently in Charon’s cloak yet he doesn’t speak, not exactly, the soft gasps of breath and gentle whines when Charon caresses a particularly sensitive spot are involuntary and completely without words. Hypnos knows, in Thanatos’ place, he would be begging. He might even start begging now, frustrated and aroused as he is, cock flush against his abdomen and twitching with need.

Hypnos realises he must have made a sort of noise as Thanatos turns his face to him, flushed golden with embarrassment and arousal, perhaps caught off guard by Hypnos’ intense stare at them or his own forgetfulness of his brother being there altogether. Charon moves then, his hands coming to Thanatos’ naked hips, pushing him towards his twin, instinctively as soon as his knees knock against the foot of the bed he climbs atop.

He tries to reach out, wanting his hands on his twin’s cool flushed skin but the rope holds him back and he whines again, longer this time, “please.”

Charon hums something low into Thanatos’ ear that he cannot hear but the eldest shakes his head at his begging, too late to sway him and now he must endure the repercussions of his actions. Charon nudges Thanatos again who shuffles forwards on his knees at the silent command, allowing little space now between Thanatos’ knees and Hypnos’ slightly parted legs, he lets them fall further apart to accommodate his twin, and their older brother takes his space behind Thanatos, divesting himself of only his hat and cloak for now.

He takes Thanatos into his lap with ease, the younger following the guidance again without word, and Thanatos’ legs splay either side of Charon’s knees where he is almost precariously perched atop of them if it was not for Charon’s arm around his torso, holding yet caressing at his collarbone for a moment. The eldest ducks his head against Thanatos’ shoulder and Hypnos cannot see what he does behind the curtain of white hair but he watches as Thanatos’ mouth opens in a sudden, sharp intake of breath, surprised but his mouth hangs open still in soft pants that increase to a sort of whimper when the hand on Thanatos’ chest travels and pinches at his nipple.

Whilst unfair Hypnos cannot claim the sight is not hotter than the stuff even in his wildest dreams - even he cannot conjure up the very real, physicality his brothers bring, of their bond and fondness.

“Please,” a soft beg resounds in the otherwise quiet room and Hypnos is mildly surprised it did not come from himself, his lips still hang open in soft pants that he cannot control but it is Thanatos that utters such a gentle but needy beg. Charon mutters something in return, lifting himself out of Thanatos’ throat where Hypnos can finally see the faintness of teeth marks and bruising - and his cock twitches and leaks at the mere sight of it, of his twin marked and claimed by their elder brother.

Charon is quick and deft in his movements, standing again and letting what remains of his own clothes and regalia drop to the floor which leaves Hypnos swallowing at the sight of his older brother’s cock that he would give anything to reach out and touch or maybe even get his mouth on, but his hands catch any moments in the binds, keeping him safe and still, right where they want him. Which is unfair.

“You must learn restraint, brother,” Thanatos says, voice clearly a poor imitation of his usual stern and stoic tone of voice. But Hypnos’ gaze travels back to his twin, flushed and kneeling between his legs, and his cock aches at the position, the memories it conjures up.

“Not a chance, Than,” he quips back, flexing his fingers where they remain stuck above his head, it’s futile, he knows, but it’s something to distract from the leaking of his cock and terribly arousing sight of his twin.

Thanatos sighs, exasperated but there is a sort of fondness to it, Hypnos knows, it would be far too boring if they were both innocent, good, obedient submissives. And someone has to keep Charon on his toes.

Speaking of, their elder brother returns, silent and graceful, taking his place behind Thanatos - and Hypnos almost mourns the loss of the sight of his gorgeous, hung cock. But alas his hands are firm on Thanatos again, having cast aside the lubricant he retrieved, insistent on his thighs, prying them further apart easily, giving Hypnos a downright sinful view of his twin’s hard, golden flushed cock.

“Then,” Thanatos speaks again, after a moment too long, perhaps having forgotten in the return of their older brother’s presence and his manhandling, “that is why you are in your current position and not in mine.”

There is a sort of smugness in his tone that Hypnos wants to hate, to wipe that smirk off his beautiful face and add to the golden flush that adorns his cheeks. He cannot. Yet, Charon does it for him, unintentionally of course, but it feels like a small victory to Hypnos. Thanatos squirms where he is knelt, the only indication of his impatience waning, and Hypnos’ eyes follow Charon’s hands - picking up the lubricant and applying it to his fingers, deftly with practised ease, before capping it again - and his fingers disappear from view behind Thanatos.

So, Hypnos watches his twin’s expression and body, how his brows knit together in a tension before relaxing along with his mouth that opens in gentle breaths and pants, his cock twitching in the exposed air, his own hands digging nails into his thighs. Charon leans over him, just barely, whispering to him something Hypnos cannot hear over Thanatos and his own panted breaths and the ichor rushing in his ears. It must be good or downright filthy because Thanatos gasps, flushing all the way down to his chest before his head rolls forwards, shoulders shaking with pleasure and need and anticipation.

And the puddle of pre-come on Hypnos’ stomach is ever expanding. His cock aches for any sort of touch - a touch Thanatos could provide, he is close enough and his hands unoccupied.

“Than,” he whines before he can stop himself, “please, Than, gods, please.”

His twin brother’s gaze raises to the noise yet his eyes are unfocused and disorientated, and Hypnos has to wonder how many fingers Charon has inside of him right now, and just how he is playing their brother just so. Thanatos blinks at him for a moment or two before shaking his head, he moves his hands and Hypnos’ cock twitches only for him to deflate back into the sheets when Thanatos leans forward and grasps at the very same sheets.

“Can’t-” Thanatos gasps out with another shake of his head, forcing his hips back into Charon’s touch and Hypnos cannot move his gaze off his beautifully debauched twin, and Thanatos moans something obscene, incomprehensible and incoherent, but then a stuttered “Charon- Charon said I- I couldn’t- shit, gods, Charon, please.”

It’s followed by another moan, high pitched and Hypnos would call it embarrassing, humiliating in fact coming from his usually so stoic and stern twin but he cannot help the way his cock twitches and leaks at the mere sound. Then there is that deep, low laughter from Charon, a little mean but entertained, and Hypnos is sure if they keep this up he might just come completely untouched from this entire affair.

“Hrng?” Charon asks, draping himself low over Thanatos’ back, who it seems only keeps getting closer and closer to folding completely over himself, pressing faux kisses to the once cool grey skin there.

“Please, Charon, I need it, I need you,” Thanatos begs - and all Hypnos can do is watch as his twin brother begs and pants and moans for their older brother. It’s an excruciating, exhilarating sort of torture that he is sure must be used in some parts of Tartarus.

Charon makes a humming noise of consideration before he removes his fingers out of Thanatos’ with an audible squelching noise and a sharp intake of breath from Thanatos. His hands, one dry and the other slicked with lubricant, come underneath the younger brother, manoeuvring him back onto his knees no matter how unsteady Thanatos holds himself he manages to stay upright. He is gathered back into Charon’s lap, closer this time, and Charon’s thick cock lies almost flush against Thanatos’ own between them.

Hypnos whimpers, softly but audible, and then he has the gaze of both of his brothers upon him. It’s a little intimidating but so very hot and Hypnos kind of feels obliged to say something, as always.

“Fuck, you’re both so hot, that’s unfair,” he babbles, less a compliment and more a complaint, and his whiny tone leaves nothing unsaid.

Charon laughs, again, and now Hypnos feels sort of embarrassed for saying anything at all, he knows it could affect his own outcome and he really, really wants to come. Thanatos, though, seems embarrassed all the same but at the compliment, he has never been good at receiving them, and Hypnos feeds off that reaction just as much as Charon’s.

“So pretty, Than, you’re always so pretty but right now, almost sat on our big brother’s cock, gods, you’re gorgeous, I bet you can’t wait for him to put it in you, uh huh?” Hypnos babbles, in no order particularly but all of it true, and he is sure that if Thanatos’ flush could deepen any more it would have done. Thanatos looks downright mortified, avoiding his twin’s piercing stare, but he nods, instinctively and desperately, squirming in the hold Charon has on his hips.

“Hrm?” Charon mutters, cooing almost in tone, right into Thanatos’ ear but Hypnos can hear him, is meant to hear him, and it sends shivers down his spine, he can only imagine what Thanatos is feeling.

It’s silent for a moment, one of hesitation, before Thanatos responds, voice barely above a whisper in his embarrassment, “please, Charon, I need you, I need- I need your cock, please.”

That seems enough to sway the elder, they all know Thanatos isn’t half as mouthy as Hypnos is nor as unashamed in his desire but it is endearing in its own right. Charon leaves one hand on his hip but removes the other to slick up his own cock and guide it, slowly, into Thanatos’ hole.

Hypnos can see it now, with the way Thanatos’ legs are spread either side of Charon’s own and perched atop his lap, thick cockhead pressed against his hole, obscured by Thanatos’ balls but Hypnos can use some of his imagination. His gaze flickers though, watching his twin’s face as their older brother slides so carefully and slowly into him, lowering Thanatos’ down into his lap and onto his cock. Thanatos’ lashes flutter closed onto painted golden cheeks, mouth agape in the softest moans, throat bitten and chest flushed moreso, Hypnos’ gaze travels downwards to where his brothers connect, and not for the first time does he want to touch.

“What did I tell you?” Hypnos pipes up, again, but his voice is strained, “beautiful, Than, you take his cock so well, you’re made for it. Does it feel good? So big inside of you, isn’t it? Such a big, beautiful cock our brother has.”

He’s babbling, he knows, but the reaction it gets from Thanatos is worth it one hundred times over, the hooded, dark look in his eyes as he watches Hypnos watching them, the breathless moans and hitches of breath, no doubt also from the way Charon’s hips begin to roll underneath him. And Hypnos wants nothing more than to get a hand around Thanatos’ leaking cock, to bring him over the edge so easily with so little effort, to have his twin spill himself over him. His hands twitch in the bonds, unintentional and unsuccessful.

He settles then for using his mouth, “come on, Than, I want you to come on me, mark me all over my chest here, make me yours. Let yourself go, and Charon is going to fill you up so well, he’ll come so deep inside you, won’t you, brother?”

There’s a sort of rumbling noise of agreement from Charon, low in his throat, and his grip on Thanatos’ hips look bruising - Hypnos will want to kiss the marks later, and the ones on his throat. Then Thanatos’ is whining, loud, unable to hold back what little restraint he has over his own reactions, as Charon wraps lithe fingers around his cock, pre-come mixing with lubricant and the slide is obscene.

Thanatos shakes then, thighs trembling and his hands reach back towards Charon, nails digging into bone so hard it must hurt but Charon’s hips only thrust faster into the tight heat of his younger brother. The room is hot now, overwhelmingly so, sweat on skin and naught but pants and moans fill the air.

Except when Hypnos speaks again, “are you going to come, brother? You’re going to come for us, please, you’re so pretty when you do. Come, Than.”

He does just as Hypnos asks, with a deft stroke of Charon’s fingers and thick cock buried inside of him, Thanatos comes in white stripes across Hypnos’ abdomen and chest, streaking his twin brother with his spend. An almost pained sound escapes Thanatos’ lips when he comes, incoherent babbling, perhaps a mix of his brothers’ names, but it’s all lost to the groans and whines they tamper into when Charon does not quite let go of his cock nor does he stop fucking into him.

Hypnos’ cock aches so badly, one touch and he knows he will come, his back arches begging for contact, for anything. But Thanatos is still very much in Charon’s grasp, fucked up and down on his brother’s cock as if he were no more than a toy for this very use, and Hypnos is sure he is crying now, Thanatos’ cheeks shine with wetness but he does not stop Charon. Not yet. And Hypnos watches, a man entranced, as Charon bites down on Thanatos’ shoulder with a powerful groan, burying himself deep inside his brother as he comes, and Thanatos goes completely lax in his hold.

It is still for a moment more, Charon’s hands creating soothing patterns against Thanatos’ hips before he slowly raises the younger from his lap, come leaking from his hole as he’s laid down in front of Hypnos, his eyes are still closed but he reaches for him, hand on his thigh and his head follows, pressing a most chaste kiss there. Hypnos whines at the sensation, the only touch he has had since the start, and there are tears forming in his eyes.

“Please, Than, please, I need to come, you need to let me come, I- please,” Hypnos begs, without care, without shame and inhibition, his only thought is on his potential climax.

Thanatos’ soft golden eyes open to stare at him, taking in his undoubtedly needy expression, and he hums, letting a hand fall against Hypnos’ abdomen, just to the side of his flushed cock.

“Can I, Charon?” Thanatos asks, gaze never wavering from his twin’s as he addresses their elder brother.

It’s permission he wants, as does Hypnos, desperately so. And Charon grants it with a soft murmur and gesture, his hands come to Hypnos’ thighs and splay them apart. Then Thanatos has his mouth on him, on his cock, fingers holding him by the base so gently and he suckles the head into his mouth. Hypnos cannot give a warning, it is all too overwhelming, wet and warm inside his brother’s mouth, he spills all too easily with a whine of his twin’s name. His legs cannot close against Charon’s hands despite the want and how badly his body shakes, his arms trapped still no matter how much he wants to pull on those white locks between his thighs.

Hypnos is forced to endure the painful pleasure of his orgasm at the hands, and mouth, of his brothers. And he is sure that this is not punishment enough.

#hades game nsfw #hypnos/thanatos/charon #sub hypnos #sub thanatos #dom charon #bottom thanatos #top charon #brat hypnos #bondage #teasing #dirty talk #thanatossimp #el write #hypnos #thanatos #charon

[thanatossimp]

Inexperience Insecurity - Thanatos/Charon

Summary: Thanatos is very nervous about his sexual inexperience, especially in comparison to Zagreus, so, he seeks out his older brother for some... advice. Charon gives him more than that and Thanatos is very, very greatful.

Warnings: sibling incest, loss of virginity + sexual inexperience, fingering, anal sex

Word count: 2.6k

Also on AO3

For the prompt on HadesKinkMeme

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It was not that Thanatos was afraid – death incarnate, scared? Almost laughable to presume so. And this was Zagreus he was… considering. Yet, perhaps he was a little anxious, nervous, reserved with his more physical urges for the younger godling. Confidence, he knows, comes with practice, something he does not have in this department. Thanatos understands his options, considers them, and must swallow his pride and anxieties for a mere moment or two to, hell forbid, ask for help.

He most certainly is not about to ask Zagreus right off the bat, he knows his lover would be considerate and attentive, but his embarrassment merely outweighs it. He dares not ask his mother; Nyx is all too supportive of his budding relationship with Zagreus. Megaera on one hand is a viable option but he knows she would not resist the gentle teasing and ribbing at his expense especially within the lounge over a drink or two. Hypnos, then, is similarly out of the question too – far too loud and obnoxious to keep anything to himself for more than a few moments, unless asleep of course. Charon he also pushes off the list all too quickly only to… reconsider, even for a moment.

Charon is quiet, like himself. Charon is standoffish and a little broody, like himself. And Charon is pining over a short, dark haired godling, like himself. Perhaps they are more similar than Thanatos would like to admit.

He does not intend to bring it up so soon though, the idea quite frequently thrumming on the backburner of his brain, unable to rid his mind of such thoughts. Only when the last of his mortal souls has stepped off the boat does he linger, just a fraction of a second too long, his mind torn between staying and being, well, honest with his brother or fleeting off to succumb to his embarrassment and anxieties once again.

“Hrrng,” comes softly from Charon, now at his side, peering down at him with a mixture of confusion and worry that Thanatos would usually not permit from anyone else – well, other than Nyx.

“I’m fine,” Thanatos responds reflexively, then sighs softly, “I’ve just a lot on my mind lately. Or, well, someone.”

Charon looks at him, really looks at him, encouraging Thanatos to go on, even if he does not want to.

“I understand that Zagreus and I’s relationship has developed, as such, lately and it’s merely that, well, Zagreus has far more experience than I and I would not like to let him down,” Thanatos explains, looking out across the river instead of at his brother, cheeks already flushed golden, hoping that his brother will not ask for any more clarification and let the implications speak for themselves.

“It is not that he would think less of me or taunt me for such but…” he trails off, shoulders deflating, and his head bowed.

“Hrm,” Charon comments.

“I know,” Thanatos says, almost snapping at his patient and well-meaning brother, he sighs again like the lovelorn maiden he supposedly is now, “I should, I could just tell him but… I’m afraid I’ll do or say something horribly wrong and the next thing I know I’m no longer in bed with Zagreus but hiding somewhere in frustrated embarrassment.”

“Hm,” Charon replies, setting a large yet similarly cool hand on Thanatos’ shoulder, comforting in its familiarity but the words left unspoken by his brother let a chill run down his spine.

Thanatos swallows, then again, stuttering out a nervous sort of laughter in the completely not humorous situation.

“Charon, I appreciate the offer, I do, but I would not put you in such a situation unless-”

“Hmmm.” Charon’s tone is lighter, softer even to Thanatos’ ears, something he has not heard since he was but a small godling. It is sort of nostalgic in the way it makes Thanatos feel, soft and warm and quite small again.

“Then, if you are certain,” Thanatos says, a little softer, less nervous perhaps, gentler. He laughs, quick and soft, “so, your place or mine?”

That is how Thanatos – stoic, stern death himself – found himself against blankets and pillows soft enough to rival that of his twin, in a room lit with an abundance of candles, shelves upon shelves of things and oddities and obols. And with Charon, looming, intimidating Ferrier of the Styx, and his own brother kneeling in front of him, easing his own cloak off and dropping it to the floor. Not left for long as his heavy adornments and hat follow easily.

Thanatos can only watch on, in awe and uncertainty, of his brother’s shamelessness and he is certain he is blushing beyond belief.

“Hrmm,” Charon whispers, a cool hand gracing Thanatos’ jaw in a soft gesture.

And all Thanatos can do is breathe out a soft, pitiful, “please.”

It was less of a kiss, more of a sharing of breath. Cool wisps of purple against flushed golden skin, teasing his lips and then into his mouth. Thanatos goes so willingly, hands coming up to grab at Charon, his shoulders, his waist, his chest – the lithe spread of muscle not unsurprising to him but unfamiliar to the touch, at least in this manner of wandering. Charon groans into his mouth, leaning into the touches so slightly, and his own hands wander, slipping off Thanatos’ regalia, belt, and chiton. Charon’s hands are big, smooth and Thanatos cannot get enough of them, arching up not so subtly into the touches. Then his hands are teasing at the waistband of Thanatos’ leggings, not pulling but teasing the hints of skin just underneath. Asking permission.

Thanatos’ hips jerk upwards, seemingly unable to pull himself away from being almost flush with Charon, needy and willing, very noticeably hard beneath the dark leggings when Charon brushes the backs of his fingers against him.

“Charon, please,” Thanatos whispers, barely audible amongst their laboured breathing.

With permission granted Charon peels the leggings off and discards them to the floor with the rest of their belongings, leaving Thanatos bare and exposed to him. And lithe fingers easily wrap around his cock, aching and twitching in the unfamiliar grasp – though any other than his own is unfamiliar to Thanatos.

Charon lets out a sort of hum of satisfaction at the sight, leaning back and drinking in his younger brother flushed pretty with gold and eyes glassy, then another “hrggg.”

Thanatos barely deciphers it through the rushing of blood to his ears, it is overwhelming in the best ways possible. He worries to think what it will be like if Zagreus touches him in such a fashion.

“Shit- I, well, I have, alone, but- Charon,” Thanatos stutters out, hips twitching of their own accord, wanting more but overwhelmed all the same. Yet, he whines when Charon’s hand leaves him, his legs splaying unconsciously, a silent plea for more.

Charon is slipping free of his pants and long black chiton, leaving him just as nude as his brother, before settling between those dark grey splayed thighs, a hand on each and urging them open further. He meets a soft resistance though, Thanatos’ hands come to rest atop his own.

“Hhhrrgggg.”

Thanatos seemingly flushes anew, avoiding the elder’s gaze for a moment before letting go of his hands, settling himself back onto the blankets and letting Charon spread him open. It’s awkward and vulnerable, Thanatos is flushed golden from cheeks to chest, yet there is a soft sort of warmth spread throughout his chest. It’s nice yet odd, to be wanted, physically and intimately, and to want back in return.

“I know, I know and I trust you, I promise, I want this,” Thanatos says, reassuringly, voice barely above a whisper though it cracks with need.

Charon hums, light and noncommittal, he’s leaning over Thanatos and to the side, there’s a fumbling that Thanatos tries to follow but Charon is quick in righting himself back between Thanatos’ thighs, vial of oil in hand. And Thanatos flushes anew, bright golden with embarrassment but also arousal.

He nods before Charon even has the chance to ask, uttering the softest “please” between them before pressing soft, chaste kisses to the corner of Charon’s mouth. That seems to be all the urging his older brother needs, uncorking the vial and coating three fingers easily, if not a little sloppy. Eager, Thanatos thinks, almost giddy at the fact that this maybe isn’t just for him, that Charon is enjoying this as much.

Thanatos is pulled, abruptly, from his thoughts by a slick finger at his entrance and Charon’s gaze upon him almost molten. He gasps, unable to stop the soft noise escaping him, but bares down against the pressure and Charon relents at the silent plea - a language without words, an ease of unspoken nature betwixt the two brothers. That is not to say that Thanatos does not moan, nor groan, softly whimpering and biting at his lip to silence himself only to relent with a gentle whine of Charon’s name as the elder fingers him open so very gently and carefully as if Thanatos was made of porcelain. One wrong move from breaking. And perhaps he is.

“I’m a virgin, Charon, but I’m not so easily breakable,” Thanatos manages out between rough gasps and laboured breaths, chest rising and falling with the harsh suddenness of said breaths, and Thanatos is unable to keep his eyes off his older brother. Mostly where Charon’s hand sinks below his cock and balls where he can feel, but not see, the fingers, three of them now, sinking into him and spreading him open obscenely so that he feels so put on show it would be embarrassing if it were anyone else. But this is Charon - sweet, deceptively gentle, silent Charon.

And Charon does not respond aside from a meaningless hum of what Thanatos hopes is appreciation. Then Thanatos can do naught but jump, hands fisting tight into sheets and thighs quaking as Charon does not relent, grinding his fingers into him at such an angle that has Thanatos’ cock weeping against his abdomen and obscene, loud noises spilling from his lips. When Charon stills it is almost a relief but then he is easing his fingers out of Thanatos’ hole which leaves the younger whining at the loss and the cool sensation left in Charon’s absence.

“Please,” Thanatos gasps, apparently not above begging in this instant, unconsciously and unthinking perhaps but so wrapped up in his own mind and his own body of the pure pleasure Charon was supplying that the sudden vanishing of it is cruel. But he does not have to wait long as those large, now warmer fingers grasp at his thighs, holding yet grabbing in a somewhat possessive manner, and Thanatos groans. Only then to squeak as Charon pulls him down and flat onto his back for a moment and he stares up, wide eyed and so very aroused at his brother, unable to stop himself leaning up and kissing the other.

Charon allows it, seemingly a minor break in his plan, but as soon as Thanatos breaks for air he moves again, grasping for a pillow Thanatos had previously been resting upon and shoving it underneath Death, arching his ass up perfectly. One hand welcomes its place back on Thanatos’ thigh but the other, he watches, grasps Charon’s own cock, stroking it and slicking it with a mix of oil and pre-come. Thanatos swallows, unconsciously, and his mouth is simultaneously very wet and very dry. He supposed if Charon was not opposed he is sure there are other things his older brother could teach him, including oral.

He waits, patient and perhaps entranced, as Charon guides his cock, long but proportionally so, to his slick and waiting hole. Thanatos gasps at the push, instinctively tensing up at the intrusion, his body seemingly at war with itself over wanting and not wanting. He breathes slowly, gently, at Charon’s recommendation, tilting his head back against the sheets and simply focuses on breathing for the moment. Which is harder said than done when Charon, thankfully, keeps easing his cock inside of him at an agonisingly slow pace.

It feels like aeons but is probably only a few minutes until Thanatos feels full, unbelievably so. Unable to stop himself from clenching down every so often, moaning at the feeling of being filled so intimately, and Charon groans in turn at the stimulation, which makes Thanatos all the more happy to do it again until Charon’s hands are on his hips and his ass is flush against Charon’s thighs.

“Oh,” Thanatos breathes out, a gasp of an exclamation, unable to think of anything else to say, anything more coherent. His vocabulary is all but gone, head swimming with nothing but arousal, of fullness, of pleasure, of Charon.

“Please,” he finds himself saying again, “Charon, please, I need- please, more, I need it.”

Charon’s head bows at his request, head resting against his sternum and then Thanatos feels an imitation of a kiss, then another and another against his chest. It makes him squirm in Charon’s hold, impatient and needy, and his cock twitches as Charon squeezes his hips in warning or anticipation. Then he moves, slowly pulling his cock out, barely even half way, before grinding back into Thanatos’ tight heat.

“Charon,” Thanatos manages to choke out before the grip on his hips becomes bruising, thrusts picking up speed into some sort of rhythm that Thanatos cannot keep up with. His legs bend behind Charon, keeping him close, and his hands fumble with the sheets for grip as Charon fucks him, fills him so incredibly so, brushing past the point that makes him feel on edge. Until he hits it, undeniably by the lewd broken groan that escapes Thanatos’ throat, his cock leaking considerably onto his stomach and then onto Charon’s as he leans down to kiss and nuzzle at the other.

Thanatos comes with a high, needy and downright embarrassing noise that he will no doubt later regret if he even remembers making such noise. His cock trapped between them both as Charon ruts into him, gripping him tight as if he could disappear at any moment, and Thanatos’ hole clenches back, spasming through his orgasm as he wets their stomachs and chests with his release. And Thanatos is on the cusp of returning from wherever his mind goes during an otherworldly orgasm, apparently, when Charon stills and then spills, hot and fast inside of him and Thanatos can do nothing but lie there and take it, gladly, moaning at the overstimulation it gives him.

“Hrmm?” Charon whispers, lifting himself more so off of his younger brother, and then eases his cock out of him. Thanatos watches, closer now, without the undercurrent of anxiety and nervousness, the purple flush of Charon’s cheeks go deeper as he, undoubtedly, watches the come leak from Thanatos’ hole, and Thanatos feels his own face heat up in turn.

“I’m- yes, good, very, um, good,” he stumbles over his answer, voice cracking, though not with dishonesty but something else he can’t quite place, “you’re a good teacher, Charon. I have no doubt I could learn even more if you were so willing.”

Charon laughs at that but the soft, resounding sort of laugh, reserved for those closest to him. It isn’t a yes but it is not a no either. Maybe then. Thanatos can deal with that, on top of putting into practise what he has learnt so far with Zagreus. He just hopes the overenthusiastic prince doesn’t expect him to top. He joins in his brother’s laughter at that thought.

#hades game nsfw #hades nsfw #virgin thanatos #bottom thanatos #thanatos/charon #thanatos #charon #thanatossimp #el writes

[thanatossimp]

Voyeur’s Pleasure - Thanatos x Achilles & Zagreus x Patroclus

Summary: Zagreus watches his lover Thanatos fucked and ruined by Achilles whilst his very own lover, Patroclus, has his way with the underworld’s Prince.

Warnings: voyeurism + exhibitionism, group sex (kind of), anal, 

Word count: 2k

Also on AO3

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Thanatos had been shy when they first met, of course, but now Zagreus was in awe at the sight of his beloved, flushed golden and pinned beneath those strong arms of his mentor that he knew too well. Zagreus' own breath catching at the sight, sat upon his knees, nude and flushed bright red in front of the two that pay him little to no mind. Content in his watching though, Thanatos makes a pretty sight on his back, knees spread, mouth agape in slight pants and gasps typically reserved for Zagreus alone. Yet, Achilles seems to revel in them, lips quirked in that soft yet teasing smile, his soft hair cascading across his shoulders, a subtle faux blush across his cheeks.

Achilles does not hold him down, though Zagreus knows he has the strength to do so, but instead his hands are firm on Thanatos’ waist, keeping him in place slightly off the mattress as he fucks into him. Thanatos’ legs wrapped the best they can around Achilles’ hips, impatient in the way his hands grip at biceps, at shoulders, in hair, and it only seems to urge his old mentor on. Thanatos’ own cock lays hard and leaking against his abdomen, untouched and needy in the way that he knows Than likes, not too overwhelmed just yet but teetering on the verge of losing himself to pleasure.

Zagreus doesn't doubt he could watch them forever, his own arousal almost forgotten in favour of committing to memory the sinful sight he will no doubt revisit when alone or, if Thanatos so deems it, together. But strong arms around his own waist distract him, if only for a moment, dark sun kissed skin against his own pale stomach.

“Pretty, aren’t they, stranger?”

He makes a noise of agreement, or at least he thinks he does. Rewarded with a scratch of a beard and soft kisses to his bare shoulder, hands daring to wander, encircling the base of his cock before lazily stroking, not enough to completely distract but satisfying in an accompaniment to the view. Zagreus does not miss the glance from the other two, Thanatos’ neck craned ever so awkwardly, eyes glazed over in that pretty arousal and hair mussed in his face, and Achilles looks almost shy all of a sudden, to be so caught up in Thanatos to almost forget his mentee and lover in the same bed, but Zagreus knows it is all too easy to be caught up in Thanatos’ rapture.

“You know, my Achilles and I did oft share our bed, in life I mean,” Patroclus’ tone is soft, conversational, as if his very lover he speaks off was not indulging himself in Zagreus’ own, “but to have yourself, stranger, a powerful little godling and very death himself, I would consider it a privilege.”

If not already flushed a bright red from arousal and need Zagreus would have blushed from the words, his hips jerk slightly as he fucks into Patroclus’ fist, only steadied by the arm around his waist. He does, however, miss the soft gaze of Achilles towards his lover of remanence of their living years, the gentler moments at least. Zagreus is distracted by his own beloved, Thanatos whines, impatient and needy at Achilles’ sudden slowing, intentional or otherwise he is being deprived.

“It’s okay, I’ve got you,” Achilles says, as soft spoken as usual despite the grip on Thanatos’ waist that travels to his thighs, one hand on each thigh, prying them up and apart, spreading Thanatos obscenely so. And Zagreus shivers at his mentor’s voice, unable to stop himself arching back into the heat of the body behind him, need coursing through him.

“Please, Patroclus, sir,” Zagreus babbles out, finding his voice once more as is not unusual for him, craning his neck a little, gaining view of Patroclus’ side profile. His eyes dart from the two in front of them and then to Zagreus.

“Please what, stranger?”

“Fuck me, please, I need it, sir,” he mutters, mouth working perhaps just a little ahead of his brain. But he is rewarded with lips against his own, and he moans into the kiss, unable to contain himself any longer, the kiss is forceful, a little harder than necessary. Zagreus smirks into it, knowing that Patroclus must be just as worked up as he is, that is if the thick length of his cock was not already pressed against Zagreus’ ass. He’s stretched enough, Thanatos had made sure of that and vice versa, no matter how Zagreus whined or whimpered or begged he hadn’t brought him to release, not that it would quell his simmering arousal now.

The hand around his cock leaves, trailing his stomach before Patroclus pulls away. Zagreus turns to look, a little impatient, but is stopped by a hand on his jaw, firm in the way he forces his head.

“Watch them, stranger,” Patroclus orders, fingers firm on Zagreus’ jaw, forcing his gaze on their lovers instead.

“Yes, sir,” Zagreus breathes out, eyes fluttering at the sensation of Patroclus’ fingers at his hole, slick with lube and impatient in the way he slides two thick fingers inside at once. Though prepared Zagreus moans at the stretch, wanting to beg for more, for faster, but he knows that Patroclus will take it at his own pace as always.

Instead, he watches again, in his moment of distraction Thanatos has pulled Achilles down, undoubtedly by his hair as his fingers still lay intertwined in golden locks, into a messy kiss, keeping the both of them relatively quiet at least aside from the soft moans and gentle gasps for air. Achilles pulls back, breathing hard into the crook of Thanatos’ neck before biting down, hard judging by the lewd, sharp moan that escapes Thanatos.

Zagreus’ cock jumps at the sound, sight and then the feel of Patroclus’ fingers spreading him open so obscenely before leaving his hole and Zagreus cannot help the embarrassing whine that leaves him. And Thanatos’ piercing golden gaze locks with his, his mouth is agape in harsh breaths as Achilles licks and bites at his throat and his fingers dig into his thighs now, still fucking him patiently but roughly. Zagreus doesn’t want to look away, not from the sweat slicked bodies and obscene way Thanatos takes Achilles’ cock, but Patroclus is very hot behind him, slick head of his cock nudging against his hole.

“Stranger?” Patroclus asks, voice deep and close to Zagreus’ ear that he shivers, shifting slightly but Patroclus’ hands on his hips keep him still and from impaling himself back on his cock.

“Please, sir, please, fuck me,” he babbles out, head falling back onto Patroclus’ shoulder, exhausted with need and arousal at this point, cock leaking onto the sheets underneath him, and he whines when Patroclus’ touch on him tightens before finally sliding inside of Zagreus’ hole. It’s gentle, slow, patient, everything that Zagreus wishes it wasn’t but relents at the pure size of Patroclus’ cock inside of him.

Patroclus is not even halfway inside of him before there is a hand on his jaw, pulling his head back up to the sight in front of them and Zagreus cannot help the noise that escapes him, clenching down against Patroclus’ cock inside of him instinctively, causing a sharp intake of breath from the other man.

“Gorgeous,” Patroclus states at no one or nothing in particular but then at Zagreus says, “watch them. Do not move your gaze from them or I will stop.”

Zagreus nods, deftly, almost in a daze. They are gorgeous. More so. More than his words can currently manage. Patroclus doesn't say more though, content with his response enough to move inside of him, pulling out only an inch or so before grinding back into the heat of Zagreus’ ass, earning a hitch of breath and a soft breathless moan from the prince. This time he doesn’t stop but slides further until his cock is sheathed inside of Zagreus, hot and thick, and Zagreus’ own cock leaks at the glorious intrusion. 

Still he obeys, his gaze faltering but never leaving their two lovers intertwined before them, soft and gentle in their touches but greedy and passionate. And Zagreus knows they are going to do this again. If not for Thanatos’ want and need alone then for Zagreus’. Thanatos’ dark and soft skin contrast with Achilles’ sun bronzed and muscular body, physically overshadowing Death even within the underworld, and Thanatos does little more than revel in it, in the hard grasp Achilles has on him, holding him, steadying him, worshipping him, pinning him.

Thanatos does not muffle the sounds the escape him, past the point of ecstasy to even consider embarrassment at this stage, and Achilles responds in kind with his own grunts and gross as he fucks into the very pliant body under him. Only when Achilles reaches between them, fingers encircling and gripping at Thanatos’ leaking and golden flushed cock, does Thanatos scream. Hoarse and rough from use, hands gripping into Achilles’ hair with force as he drags him closer, enrapturing the demi-god in a brutal kiss as he comes, coating Achilles’ fingers and his own stomach with his come.

He must clench down something fierce as Achilles’ groans into the messy, sloppy kiss - or what can only be described as a kiss - stilling inside of the God under him, thighs shaking and breathing hard.

Zagreus cannot tear his eyes away, even as Patroclus’ hands bruise his hips, wander over his thighs, fondling his cock until he’s on edge. Achilles pulls back, both from the kiss and pulling his cock free of Thanatos’ hole. It’s obscene, watching as Achilles’ watches his own come leaking from Death’s used hole. He moans, he can’t stop it before it escapes, and Patroclus responds in kind, thrusting harder, his hand working Zagreus’ cock faster, slick with pre-come.

As Thanatos’ gaze flickers to him, lazy and well fucked out, hair mussed and sticking to the sweat on his forehead, Zagreus comes with a high whine on his lips and clenching around Patroclus’ cock, his eyes finally closing in pure bliss as his orgasm overcomes him. And Patroclus is not far behind, thrusting a handful more times before spilling inside of Zagreus with a groan of the Prince’s name low in his throat and his grip on his hips hard and, undoubtedly, bruising.

When Zagreus opens his eyes again, after a moment or two of catching his breath, he finds that the tables have turned. Both Thanatos and Achilles are looking towards them, the blond curled behind and with a comforting arm splayed over Death yet holding himself up with his other arm to watch the sight of their lovers intertwined. Zagreus knows himself and Patroclus must look a sight, he can feel the sweat on his skin, the flush on his cheeks and chest, the burn of when Patroclus’ hands have been. 

“I take it the… ‘show’ was to your liking?” Thanatos asks, soft yet neutral but there is the hint of a teasing smile pulling at the corners of his lips that gives him away.

Zagreus laughs softly, going to respond in jest but Patroclus beats him to it, “very much so, my lord.”

He is just as sarcastic as Thanatos is, fittingly so, Zagreus thinks as he shares a playful glance with his mentor over his lover’s shoulder.

“Though I would not be opposed to a repeat, perhaps the other way around this time?” Thanatos continues, and the darkening of the golden hue on his cheeks highlights his embarrassment, though he smiles at the way Achilles tightens his hold on him.

“I’m sure we could figure something out,” Achilles says, though Zagreus almost missed it for Patroclus pulling his softening cock out of him, his come leaking out with it, trailing down his thighs as he sits back down on his knees.

“You know, you can just ask Pat to fuck you Than?”

He’s going to regret his bluntness later.

#hades game nsfw #hades nsfw #patzag #thanchilles #patzagthanchilles #pzta #bottom zagreus #bottom thanatos #top achilles #top patroclus #listen thanzag are both bottoms and they need to be topped together #bottom rights #el writes #thanatossimp

[thanatossimp]

till death do us part

twitter

#the colours are so soft and pretty #patrochilles

[thanatossimp]

waiting for the underworld prince ✨

obsessed with the concept of consort than

#respectfully this man needs to be railed #thanatos

[thanatossimp]

Stoic Sinful Sex - Thanatos/Hypnos

Summary: Hypnos likes to take things slow but wants - no needs - to take stoic, stern Thanatos apart one orgasm after another orgasm until his brother is a puddle of pure bliss and completely incoherent.

Warnings: brother/brother incest (but c’mon it’s greek gods), penis in vagina sex, vaginal fingering, oral sex, multiple orgasms, trans Thanatos (use of the words ‘cock’ and ‘cunt’)

Word count: 2.2k

Also on AO3

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Hypnos is not a quick being, he is not one for doing things in that instance, no matter how many higher ups tell him, including his own twin brother. He is more of a slow worker, thinker, doer. That is when he isn’t asleep. And in the bedroom, he is no different, though he can be persuaded, he does like to take his time, less out of laziness but more out of appreciation, worship, or pleasure of the other, or, hey, others.

His brother, Thanatos, is his opposite. Quick and impatient, thrumming with nervous energy, wanting more, wanting now, wanting. The mere imagining of stoic Death wanting is beautiful, breath taking, erotic in ways that Hypnos did not think of in their centuries before. Their relationship, as chthonic gods, as brothers, sons of Nyx, employees of the underworld, as friends, dare he say, has always been a little strained. They are too different of beings to ever be close, well, that is always what Hypnos had believed, persuaded himself to believe.

But now, having Thanatos, grey skin on display, silver hair splayed across soft pillows and sheets, a light golden flush across cheeks and chest, inching downwards, Hypnos is having so many second thoughts. Maybe they are not as different as he thought, but not too alike either. A forearm covers Thanatos’ own eyes, clearly more than a little embarrassed if not already obvious from the inchor flush against grey skin, darker than Hypnos’ own.

Yet Hypnos has barely even touched him save for undressing him, slowly, carefully, as if he would spook if he dared to go any quicker, not than Hypnos could be pushed to do much quickly. Though due to Thanatos’ more shy, skittish nature he would not exactly think of pushing the other too far into discomfort. He does not bother removing much of his own clothes aside from his plush cape, laying lax on his side between Thanatos’ splayed thighs, his forehead pressing against the warming skin of his thigh, daringly close to the sweetness of his brother’s cunt, already wet from anticipation, teasing in his stubbornness to maintain a slow pace.

“Hypnos,” Than slurs out behind the arm on his face, daring to glance down at the sight of his twin brother between his legs, a position which, yes, has always been inviting, but he had never dared to stray this close to, and it is just as obscene as in his dreams.

“Thanatos,” comes the response, softer in tone, lax and slow with barely contained tiredness that lingers there always. A chaste, sweet kiss is pressed to his inner thigh, the touch brief but sudden, and Thanatos manages to hide behind his arm again, embarrassed at just how little his brother has to do for him to become a mess. True he is not one for socialisation, a stranger to friendly touches and the grasp of lovers, but still the mere press of his brother’s lips on bare skin has him leaking like a whore in heat.

It is all too much and not enough.

“Brother, please, I can’t- I cannot take it any longer, please, Hypnos,” Thanatos begs, pleads, softly under his breath, as if anyone could hear him from the soft confines of Hypnos’ room.

And Hypnos relents, unwilling to leave his brother unsatisfied for a moment longer, his hands finding purchase on the underside of Thanatos’ thighs where they meet his ass, pushing wider the eagerly parting legs, allowing his head of soft curls to dip lower until his breath ghosts against wet lips and eager cock. Thanatos can do little more than whimper at the contact that finally comes, tongue against sensitive cock, licking, daring to dart further downwards and into his cunt for far too brief of a moment before taking his cock into his mouth and sucking, as if it were the job he was meant to do.

Thanatos’ free hand grasps aimlessly from the sheets to Hypnos’ white hair, curling tight into the messy strands but not daring to tug least it stop Hypnos from his current preoccupation. Instead, his hips roll as far as possible in little jerking movements, stomach muscles tightening under the strain as Hypnos keeps a firm grip on his thighs still, keeping them apart as his mouth seeks out exactly what it wants, what Hypnos wants, to take his time utterly ruining his brother for anyone else.

His mouth is slow but not unkind nor inattentive, brief swipes and sucks at his cock juxtaposed by the wet fucking of his tongue inside of his brother’s cunt. And Thanatos responds as equally obscenely; soft, incoherent whimpers cut only with the gentle utterances of Hypnos’ own name, the tightening of fingers in his hair urging more, now, please. Hypnos still finds it in him to smile, barely, lips around Thanatos’ cock, pressed tight to his cunt by the firm thighs that threaten to crush him easily between them. Maybe that is a thought for another time, a thought that Hypnos knows will not leave him alone after this… encounter.

Hypnos’ jaw aches in a dull sensation, seconded only to the way Thanatos’ arm uncovers his face, reaching above him to grasp at sheets, steadying himself as his hips jerk and grind against Hypnos’ mouth. He still does not look down, eyes squeezed shut and head tilted back, and Hypnos watches carefully the flex of his jaw, the drop of his mouth as he utters nonsense and then, “Hypnos, please, please, Gods, Hypnos, oh-”

As easy as that Thanatos comes. Thighs shaking and unsteady, pulling a little too hard at Hypnos’ hair but he is not dissuaded, rather licking quicker, eager to coax the other through his orgasm and perhaps a little further as Thanatos is soon gently shoving at his forehead. Hypnos, reluctantly, relents, letting go of Thanatos’ thighs in favour of hoisting himself up on his forearms and enjoying the view before him. Smooth skin flushed gold and sweat soaked, chest rising and falling with laboured breathing, hair a mess, thighs still spread, lax and lazy, cunt still glistening with pre-come and spend.

If Hypnos was an artist, he would have painted this vision time and time again. Yet, he is not. So, he settles for looking – which he will also do time and time again and never tire of it. And maybe a little touching, swirling patterns into his brother’s thighs with fingertips, muscles clenching under the ticklish sensations.

“That’s it, Than,” he says, voice softer than usual but still too loud, “didn’t I promise you that would feel good? And that wasn’t even all of it!”

Thanatos blinks up at him, still dazed slightly, taking him a moment to compute Hypnos’ words, then he just blinks again, eyes glassy and unfocused just a little.

“I promised you, didn’t I?” Hypnos continues, not dissuaded by his brother’s silence in the slightest, “how many more do you think you could give me? Two? Three? More maybe?”

He watches Thanatos’ mouth open in a breath, tongue jotting out to wet his lips, an unconscious action surely but an attractive one that draws Hypnos’ attention. He wants to kiss him, softly, slowly, gently, like he deserves. But he settles for the next best thing, pressing a kiss to his inner thigh, only nipping a little after Thanatos relaxes under the touch again.

His fingers though are a surprise, sliding through Thanatos’ slick and easily two of Hypnos’ slim fingers slide inside of his cunt. Said cunt clenches hard at the sudden intrusion, yet Thanatos jerks, feet planted down to the mattress, bracing down hard on Hypnos’ fingers, aching, begging all but verbally. And Hypnos wants to make him beg, push him just too far that his stoic brother is pushed into a more pitiful display of passion that may even be agreeable to Aphrodite herself.

So, he slides another finger alongside the first two, curling them upwards just so, again and then again. Thanatos is responsive, body sensitive from underuse, hips bucking of their own volition for more despite his oversensitivity. Hypnos admires, not for the first time nor for the last, the lithe stretch of his brother, thigh muscles tense as is his abdomen as he rushes to meet with Hypnos’ fingers inside of him, taking as much as he can, urging and rushing the other for more. Hypnos does relent, twisting his fingers gently if not a little quicker inside of his brother’s cunt.

Thanatos whimpers, unintentional and indeed embarrassing to his own ears, and Hypnos feels hot all over, suddenly so aware of how his own chiton sticks to him, the curls of his hair stuck to his forehead with sweat, and just how painfully hard and leaking his cock is between his legs, pressed against the mattress. It does not matter though, Thanatos is panting open mouthed and pretty, cunt clenching down on his fingers and Hypnos pushes further, thumbing at Thanatos’ cock, slick with spit and come, and it leaves his brother writhing against the sheets, hips jerking.

He comes, again, louder this time, with more fervour and Hypnos’ name strong on his lips, foregoing his previous silent nature. Hypnos cannot help but smirk lazily at the sound and the wetness of Thanatos’ spend against his fingers and palm has his cock twitching in his leggings, undoubtedly leaking through the material. He cannot help the swiftness in which he pulls his fingers free of his brother’s cunt, unusually quick and frantic almost, Thanatos’ whines and hitch of breath at the emptiness pulls on his heart strings.

“Shh, I promise, another, soon, just…” Hypnos trails off, fumbling with his own clothing, shoving his leggings down and his chiton up and over his head, both unceremoniously cast to the floor. He feels Thanatos’ eyes on him, glassy and unfocused yet staring at Hypnos with such hunger and need that Hypnos grasps at him – at thighs, at calves, at hips and chest – with an impatient, hurried, unusual need. Thanatos moans at each touch, each grope and pull of lithe hands.

Hypnos does not leave him waiting, the long yet slim slide of his cock, weeping against his brother’s glistening cunt.

“Please, please, Hypnos, I need- please- please-” Thanatos gasps out soft pleas, his own hands grasping at sheets and attempting to reach for Hypnos, to get him closer.

“Soon, Than,” Hypnos coos, soft and gentle, patient despite the impatient twitch of his cock that slaps back down against Thanatos’ abused cunt. They both moan, Hypnos’ eager whilst Thanatos’ is higher in pitch and more pained. Then he slides his cock inside, easily with no resistance with how obscenely slick and wet his brother is, and those long legs wrap around him, holding him tight and forcing him to slide further into his heat until Hypnos’ sharp hipbones are flush with Thanatos’ ass.

“Fuck,” is all Hypnos breathes out, forehead coming to rest in the column of Thanatos’ throat, curls of hair tickling his chest and shoulder slightly and Thanatos’ breath comes out in hitches of laughter between gentle moans.

Thanatos’ thighs clench around him, urging and impatient still, and it spurs Hypnos out of his delirium, cock wet and aching inside of his brother but he forces himself to move, hips pulling back before thrusting with a messy, awkward sort of eagerness. Yet, Hypnos is still not fast, languished and slow in his thrusting, hands firm but gentle on Thanatos’ thighs, keeping him spread open despite the clutch his legs have behind him.

“Hypnos, please, gods, please,” Thanatos babbles, his cunt spasms and clenches around his brother’s cock, his hand not clasped on Hypnos’ shoulder reaches between them, fumbling in his reach for his cock, which he brushes with a gasp of breath, but his fingers also graze the base of Hypnos’ cock, slick with his come. Hypnos whines undignified and high, and he knows it won’t be long until he comes himself, thrusts picking up, and he takes one of his own hands to knock Thanatos’ out of the way and rub his cock instead.

Thanatos keens, clenching down hard and his eyes squeeze shut, back arching taut, and he comes, for a third time, wetly around Hypnos’ cock which doesn’t still. The fingers on his cock messy and uncoordinated and the thrusts lose any sense of rhythm, just as Thanatos is on the cusp of too much, oversensitive and almost hurting, Hypnos comes, stilling and then spilling deep inside of Thanatos’ cunt. The groan that leaves Hypnos is soft, delicate in a sleepy sounding way, and he almost collapses atop his brother who, similarly, is on the cusp of sleep.

They squirm aside, Hypnos falling to the side by keeping his grasp on Thanatos, and Thanatos makes a sort of noise, squirming to keep close bodily contact with his brother as his cock slips free, come trickly slowly out afterwards, coating his inner thighs alongside his own come.

“Hm, sleep now,” Hypnos murmurs into the soft strands of Thanatos’ white hair, unnecessarily as Thanatos’ breath is already low and slow on the cusp of sleep, but Hypnos presses a kiss to his brother’s forehead with a gentle whisper of “goodnight.”

#hadesnsfw #hades game #hades game nsfw #hades nsfw #thanatos/hypnos #thanos #?? #trans thanatos #bottom thanatos #top hypnos #fingering #oral #vaginal sex #multiple orgasms #el writes #thanatossimp

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Hug your tiny prince challenge (2 years later edition)

#hhhhhhhhhhhhhhh #i love them #this is so soft #megthanzag #megaera #zagreus #thanatos

[thanatossimp]

me when the when

#dang zag tell us your secrets #megthanzag #zagreus #thanatos #megaera

[thanatossimp]

Sadgreus hadesgame :’(

#nooooooooo #poor baby #:( #zagreus

[thanatossimp]

what are they talking abt…

#oh they pretty #thanzag #zagreus #thanatos

[thanatossimp]

#they're so in love #my god #thanzag #zagreus #thanatos

[thanatossimp]

Quiet Pleasures - Thanzag

Summary: Zagreus is definitely more of an exhibitionist than Thanatos but it doesn't take much to coax his lover into more daring, public play. And Thanatos doesn't hate it. At all.

Warnings: light dom/sub undertones (dom Zag, sub Than), public sex, exhibitionism, blowjobs, fingering, coming in pants

Word count: 1.2k

Also on AO3

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Perhaps Thanatos should be more hesitant and cautious given the situation, but this is Zagreus, soft, sweet Zagreus with those big, pleading eyes and faux shy smile. Dammit. He is so soft and won over by his lover that it does not concern him. Not that they are in the hallway, alone at least for now, that Hades’ voice still echoes off walls as does soft murmurs of shades, the occasional squeak of chatter from Hypnos, and the melodies of Orpheus. It is unnerving in the way that makes his ichor thrum and inexistent heart beat all too quickly.

It is different but he should have at least guessed at Zagreus’ more exhibitionist tendencies. He just thought the doorless bedchamber was a coincidence.

“Your father will have my head for this, Zag,” Thanatos breathes out, softly, under his breath, daring not to speak even a fraction louder least he be heard by a passing Shade.

Zagreus does not answer for a moment, sitting pretty on his knees in front of him, backed against the wall and pinned by Zagreus hands and stare. His hands playing and teasing at his chiton and leggings, pushing material out of the way.

“Not if he doesn’t find out,” Zagreus counters between pressing soft, chaste kisses to Thanatos’ exposed hipbones, “so, keep quiet.”

Thanatos opens his mouth to quip back but quickly shuts his mouth, one of his hands making home in Zagreus’ unruly hair, pulling taught in warning as Zagreus does not tease for once, taking Thanatos’ cock quickly into his mouth before he even has his leggings to midthigh. There is a soft swear from Thanatos, barely audible, as Zagreus swallows around his half hard cock, coaxing him easily to full hardness.

“Zagreus,” Thanatos whispers, need evident in his voice, his hips jerking instinctively, fingers twisting in ink black hair and ruffling the laurels there.

Zagreus pauses, cock still heavy on his tongue, his hands coming to pull Thanatos’ legs further apart as much as his leggings allow. Then he is teasing, all too familiar for Thanatos’ liking, against his balls, taint, and firmer against his hole, threatening entry as much as teasing. And he knows Zagreus is smirking around the girth of his cock. He pulls off with an obscene wet pop that has Thanatos glancing back down the hallway – cock out, hard and wet, to the underworld air.

“What did I say, Than? Quiet,” Zagreus rasps, his fingers replacing his mouth, lazy and quick over Thanatos’ cock, his other hand goes to his mouth, wetting two fingers, teasing, looking up through long lashes at Thanatos, his tongue poking between his fingers.

“If you can’t be quiet, I’ll have to stop,” he warns, taking his fingers out of his mouth and teasing them back between Thanatos’ thighs, daringly pressing a finger into his hole and swallowing his cock against in one instant.

Thanatos whines, a little too loud, and his head thuds back against the stone wall. Zagreus stills and he attempts to rectify his mistakes, loosening his grip in Zagreus’ hair and babbling apologises over and over.

“No, please, I can- I’ll be quiet, please, Zag,” he whispers, forcing a couple of his own fingers into his mouth to stifle his noises, especially when Zagreus presses another finger inside of him, curling and grazing his prostate with the ease of practise. Thanatos thrusts hesitantly, accidentally, then shaking with effort not to throat fuck his lover – though Zagreus tends not to mind but he hasn’t gotten permission.

Zagreus seems to take his word for it, or perhaps in seeing Thanatos’ own fingers in his mouth, tasking himself on sucking Thanatos off with vigorous intent, as if it were the only thing keeping him alive in this very moment. His fingers quick and impatient inside of his lover, not unusual especially when Zagreus is determined to make Thanatos come before he actually fucks him. And with the rate of his fingers and mouth Thanatos is certain he will come all too quickly.

He bites into the sides of his fingers, muffling his own whines and pleas, soft murmuring of Zagreus’ name that escapes him barely. Zagreus doesn’t stop to chastise him, if anything he fucks his fingers harder inside of him making Thanatos choke on a breath, he knows exactly what he is doing. He is being cruel, Thanatos knows, but his mind is far too clouded in pleasure, overwhelming and crazed on the sensations. His nerves alight and on edge, the sounds of the underworld’s other inhabitants distant as his breath rasps and pants, forcing back whines and moans.

Despite all his orgasm takes him by surprise, coming with a slightly too audible moan regardless of his fingers stuffed into his mouth, it’s nonsensical, garbled as his hips twitch, shamelessly face-fucking Zagreus who easily takes, squeezing tight on the fingers still assaulting his insides. Zagreus only pulls away when he is whining from oversensitivity, cock soaked in spit that connects the head to Zagreus’ lips for a daring moment before breaking and Zagreus drags his fingers out of him and Thanatos slumps against the wall, exhausted and defeated.

He watches as Zagreus’ eyes trail from his softening cock and bare thighs, up his chest and throat to golden flushed cheeks and fingers still firm in his mouth, drooling just a little around them before he yanks them out of his mouth to save face. And Zagreus palms himself, shamelessly and brazenly, still knelt on the stone floor of the hallway. Thanatos is forced to watch, body weak, and he cannot tear his eyes away – not that he would want to – and Zagreus, unashamedly, comes in his pants, panting not unlike a dog and Thanatos’ sensitive cock twitches, visibly, and he watches Zagreus’ gaze drop back down for a moment.

Embarrassed thoroughly now, and coming back to his senses, Thanatos fumbles with his leggings and tucks his cock back away, letting his chiton fall back and righting it to recover some semblance of professionalism – or at least not to look as fucked out as he feels. But the way Zagreus looks up at him tells him he is failing at that. Zagreus does stand, finally, that soft smile on his face, one reserved for his lover only, and he cards a hand through Thanatos’ hair in an attempt to flatten it a little.

“What did I say about keeping quiet?” he asks in a whisper.

“I’m sorry,” Thanatos says, golden flush reappearing high on his cheeks and Zagreus does not resist to press a gentle kiss to one, then to his lips.

“Don’t worry, it was really hot,” Zagreus responds between kisses he now seemingly cannot stop giving, “though you might have to make up for it later.”

The very thought of later has Thanatos pulling up his hood and hiding from the mischievous gaze of his lover, cheeks burning and mind racing in anticipation.

“Later, then, Zagreus.”

With that he is gone in a flash of green and Zagreus is left alone in the hallway. He takes a less than shameful walk, past his father at his desk, flushed, hair mussed, come in his pants, and satisfied. Until later then, he guesses.

#thanzag #hades nsfw #dominant zagreus #submissive thanatos #<.< #exhibitionism #zagreus #thanatos #el writes #thanatossimp

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#thanzag #<3 #zagreus #thanatos

[thanatossimp]

Okay but Thanatos coming real fast and being embarrassed but Zagreus being flattered and thinking it's hot and cute and asking if he can go again

#thanzag #zagthan #hades game #zagreus is only mentioned #hades nsfw #hades game nsfw #listen sub/bottom than superiority #and if he's sensitive all the better #shut up el #thanatossimp

[thanatossimp]

pov: local bi poly king is introducing you to his partners

#oh i love them #sunshine boy zag just showing them off #they look kinda mad but like not really #zag in a crop hoodie is big brain #fanart #megthanzag

[thanatossimp]

Reap - Hades/Achilles (+ Zagreus)

Dead Dove Do Not Eat.

Summary: To break the mentor would falter the student, Hades reasons, and what more to teach his son a lesson than to use and abuse his enabler Achilles. Zagreus is an unfortunate voyeur of his father’s acts towards his father figure.

Warnings: non-con, abuse (verbal and physical), blackmailing, coaxing, non-consensual voyeurism and exhibitionism, humiliation/embarrassment, anal fingering, anal sex, size difference, crying

Different to what I usually write. Definitely Dead Dove: Do Not Eat, please read the warnings carefully, if you do not like please do not read.

Based off this prompt

Word count: 2.7k

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It had been odd. An odd day for Zagreus. After years of training, years of resentment and belittling, days and weeks and months of run after run only to pull himself from the Styx time and time again. Finally, defeating his father and finding his mother. Sure, to have it cruelly cut short was heart-breaking but the fact that he could make it to the surface, to her, as many times as it takes to do the same again, he would. Still, dragging himself out of the Styx and shaking his hair of the liquid is a sensation he is all too familiar with. Hypnos dozing, familiar. Cerberus missing, less familiar but still normal. His father missing, even less familiar but has been seen before.

But Achilles is also missing, not unheard of but Zagreus has so much to say to someone, anyone, he trusts and, well, loves. Nyx is an obvious choice, but Achilles had helped him so much, trained him, fought for him, through him, pushed him on when he thought he could not. He needs to tell Achilles everything.

A loud, resounding thud echoes throughout the mostly empty halls and Zagreus finds himself worryingly drawn to where it resounded from. Leaving him stood outside of his father’s chamber, his deep, dulcet tones muffled but still audible, speaking to whom? Zagreus does not know.

“How dare you! To pit my own son against me in such a fashion,” his father says in that tone that is not quite shouting in anger but a simmering fury that is evident in simple statements, “and for him to best me! I do not even know what to do with you, Shade, no punishment even in the depths of Tartarus would be fit.”

The other party is silent, but Zagreus has a swooping feeling in his gut that he knows just who it is.

“I apologise, my Lord, I was merely training him as you have asked of me,” Achilles responds, voice softer and more calm, harder to make out through the door but Zagreus strains to hear.

Hades laughs, once, and not out of humour.

“This is very much not what I have asked of you, Shade,” he continues, a wicked drawl in his voice, “you have encouraged him, body and mind, glad to see the boy gone on this fruitless and reckless adventure. And now he is in no need of your… training, perhaps I can think of other uses for you, ungrateful Shade, and do not forget who you are here, in my house, for.”

Zagreus is mad again at his father, another reason added to the list. Lying about his mother, about him, and now threatening Achilles, the man who was like a father to Zagreus when his own father wanted nothing to do with him other than to be kept out of his sight. Now, he wants nothing more than to barge in, insist the fault is all his, for his father to take his anger out on him once more, what is once more between them? But he knows Achilles would not let him, would insist he stay out of it, that it is between himself and his father, even though they’re arguing because of him.

“My Lord,” Achilles starts only to be cut off.

“Do not speak, Shade, you are in enough trouble as it stands,” Hades states, “you trained him into thinking he is better than his own father, you yourself believe you to be superior to me, is that it?”

There is a pause, maybe some movement, Zagreus is not certain, then, “stay put and be good, Shade.”

That unsettles him to his core, perhaps more than the silence. Zagreus mind is racing. Should he get help? Would this end with Achilles emerging from the Styx? Could Hades even hurt him? He knows that if he could he most certainly would, after all he is not above even the murder of his own son.

He does not know how much time in that painfully loud silence persists, but the sharp gasp of pain is what finally breaks Zagreus, forcefully pushing all his body weight into his shoulder to open the blocked shut door, uncaring of the echoing noise it makes throughout the hallway as it slams shut behind him, and his blood runs cold for the first time maybe ever at the sight.

His father, looming, nonchalant if not for the anger simmering in his eyes, kneeling behind soft, gentle Achilles who is in nothing, not even his circlet. Clothing strewn very carelessly to the floor, catching on chairs and bedposts. His eyes are screwed shut, expression pained, hands fisted into the sheets in front of him where he rests on his hands and knees, facing away from Hades and, instead, facing his young son now in the doorway.

“Boy,” is all Hades says. One of his hands placed on Achilles’ hip, holding him in place with a purposefully bruising grip, the other is out of Zagreus’ sight, behind, further than where Achilles’ arched back ends and his ass begins, and Zagreus can hazard a guess at what exactly his father is doing – he is not naïve and no longer a child.

Achilles does open his eyes at the word, wide and horrified at the sight of the prince, his faux flesh flushing at the feelings of embarrassment. And Zagreus feels guilty, voyeuristic to Achilles’ shame and humiliation.

“Lad.”

“Silence, Shade.”

Achilles’ words do cease in favour of another sharp gasp, head bowing to meet the sheets and his own hands, he does not dare to meet Zagreus’ gaze, flush travelling downwards to his chest and up to his ears, and Zagreus has half a mind to wish he did not enter his father’s chambers. His gaze travels sharply from mentor to his father, whose piercing gaze is already on him.

“Father, stop,” Zagreus begs, inching closer towards the end of the bed perhaps against his better judgement, stunned more than anything else right now, “let him go, you’re angry with me, not him.”

“Stay back, boy, I would not want to accidentally hurt your favourite Shade,” his father counters, gaze steel on Zagreus even as his forearm flexes and Achilles responds, whimpering softly, knuckles white in their grip on the sheets.

Zagreus does pause, eyebrows furrowed in worry as his gaze returns to Achilles. He knows he cannot stop his father, not in his domain, in his house, within the walls of his chamber especially, but, hopefully, he can at least comfort his tutor in some way. He understands, now, that not only is this punishment for Achilles but also for himself.

“Achilles,” he tries instead, panicked and worried more so, and he wants nothing more than to reach out for his mentor.

“Don’t, lad,” Achilles grits out, the slight shake of his head sending his golden locks across his face before he clumsily brushes it back out of his eyes, his hand is shaking, that much is obvious.

“Yes, listen to your Shade, boy,” Hades says in that cruelly demeaning way that Zagreus knows must have more of an effect on Achilles. Zagreus would take that tone directed at himself in front of an entire line of Shades over this any day.

And Achilles isn’t his Shade but technically he is Hades’ as much as Zagreus hates to admit it. He has no power here, no weapons, no aid, nothing but his presence, even his words are unwelcomed unsurprisingly.

He settles for sinking to his knees at the foot of the bed and for the first time Achilles meets his gaze. He almost wishes he had not. He looks broken, not in that forlorn wistful way he sometimes looks out in the hallway, but there are unshed tears in his eyes, lips pulled into a grimace with forced tightness, keeping those sounds at bay. Though the silence does not last long, he dares not to glance at his father, instead watching as Achilles’ eyes close and a quiet, pitiful whimper leaves his lips.

Not for the first time Zagreus wants to comfort him, cuddle him close and not let him go, protect him from anything that might hurt him, emotionally or otherwise, as Achilles had done so before with him, both child and adult alike. He wants to return the favour. Despite it all being his fault.

Hades laughs at the reaction, any reaction to his actions welcomed. The pained and surprised noises of Achilles and the mournful expression of his son. It feels just in a sick, twisted way.

“Come now, Shade, you should be used to this, are you not?” he mocks, easily, loudly in the otherwise quiet room.

Two fingers slick and dripping with oil are squeezed just so into the Shade’s hole, unwelcomingly large and invasive with how Achilles’ clenches around him, and Hades can only imagine what the wet, heat will feel like on around cock. His other hand comes to cup the underside of Achilles’ cock, easily engulfing it, content to find him half hard already and pleased in the way a full body shiver takes over him. He rocks, unconsciously, between the dual sensations, the warmth and touch overwhelming for a Shade who’s only other touch had been fatherly towards the very toucher’s son.

“There we go,” Hades drawls, a hint of amusement evident in his tone, satisfied with himself, “finally enjoying yourself, Shade.”

Achilles does well not to speak, expression not quite a frown but something of concentration, focused on the sheets and his own hands instead of on father or son.

“You understand now, boy, you must reap the consequences of your actions,” Hades continues, speaking almost as if Achilles was not there between them, eyes boring where they are locked onto Zagreus even as he does not look anywhere but upon the Shade with a pathetic expression of hurt and sympathy.

“It’s alright, lad,” Achilles says, voice rough and strained yet an attempt at comforting despite the situation, always putting Zagreus before himself, “it isn’t your fault, it’s never your fault.”

Zagreus heart breaks more, if at all possible, guilt laying heavily upon his shoulders, he reaches out, almost unconsciously, and his hands find Achilles’ own, grasping and grounding in perhaps the worst possible way.

Hades, though, is infuriated at the words. All of this is, of course, Zagreus’ fault. To break the mentor would falter the student. His fingers firm and cruel inside of the Shade, curling just so and earning a pitiful, louder whimper, and if he did not think he would break the Shade more in body than in spirit he would have taken him instantly, instead he takes time to torture Achilles on thick, long fingers. And Achilles trembles under him, struggling to keep himself upright as his fingers grasp hard now at Zagreus’ own.

When Hades does, finally, remove his fingers Achilles lets out a gasp of breath, chest falling further to the sheets, aching to relax and stop but the hands firm on his hips are bruising in their grasp, urging him up further onto his knees and away from Zagreus. It startles the boy, scrambling to keep his grasp on Achilles, grounding himself perhaps more than his mentor, a futile attempt. The sound of shuffling of material, of clothes, is deafening to Zagreus’ ears.

“Please, Father,” Zagreus begs, again, despite the way his voice wavers and strains, clearly on the verge of tears himself, “you don’t have to- let him go, I’ll be good, I’ll be better, I promise just don’t…” he cries now, tears falling silently down his cheeks, gaze flickering from Hades to Achilles and back again in a frantic attempt for his brain to come up with some sort of solution to this problem. His problem.

“Zagreus,” the voice is firm, but it is not that of his father, startled by Achilles’ sudden outburst, he looks tentatively at his mentor, “that’s enough, lad, just let it happen, you’ve done enough.”

The words cut hard and deep, somewhere so far down that Zagreus feels physically sick. For his father to hate him is one thing, for him to punish Achilles for his wrongdoings is another, but for Hades to make Achilles hate him that is more than he could bare.

You’ve done enough.

“I’m sorry, sir,” he settles on, leaning forwards to bring his forehead to rest against their joint hands, hoping to convey his guilt and apology. In turn, Achilles squeezes his hand, grip tightening almost painfully so and Zagreus glances up, watching as Achilles’ expression goes from shocked to pained and then, resigned. Loud in the silence, Hades grunts a sort of satisfied, pleased noise.

“You take me so well, Shade, you’re well practised” Hades praises, the praise only furthering the utter humiliation for the Shade under him, Achilles flushed bright red in embarrassment, “I might have to keep you here, quiet and obedient, where you can no longer cause trouble for me and the rest of the underworld.”

Achilles shudders, visibly, palms sweating as he laces his fingers with Zagreus’. The mattress moves with the thrusts as does Achilles, the echoing sound of skin on skin sickening, yet the soft, pitiful moan that escapes Achilles is even more gut wrenching.

“I’m sorry, sir,” Achilles babbles out, voice breaking and stumbling over the apology, and Zagreus watches, eyes not leaving his mentor’s face even as he dares not to look back, as Achilles cries, silent and devastating, the floodgates open as his tears drop to their joined hands and the sheets below much to Hades’ obliviousness.

“Perhaps you could learn a thing or two, boy,” Hades continues, firmer and less mocking now directed at his son, “this is what it looks like to know your place, to be obedient and listen to me.”

Each point is emphasised by a rough, hard thrust into his Shade. Almost all receiving soft whimpers or breathless moans from Achilles, much to his own horror, as his eyes stray to Zagreus now, ashamed and humiliated further by his mentee’s pitying gaze.

“Yet your apology is unnecessary now, Shade, after all, you are most clearly enjoying yourself,” Hades mocks, large hand leaving Achilles’ waist to reach for his leaking cock, and Achilles’ eyes flutter closed, mouth agape in a silent moan. The tears still slide down his flushed cheeks and Zagreus has such a primal, instinctual need to kiss them away. One hand leaves Achilles’ own to drag a thumb across both cheeks, removing the tear tracks before they are brought anew with fresh tears.

“You must enjoy your little student watching so intently, he is learning more now that you have ever taught him,” Hades drawls, gruffer and yet louder than before, “in fact, I’d say you were getting off on the attention.”

Achilles’ eyes open at those words, mouth opening then closing, his hand goes tense in Zagreus’ grip, embarrassment anew with shame. Hades merely barks out a laugh from behind him, his hold hard and unwavering on Achilles’ waist, and his fingers are quickly coated with come as the Shade climaxes under him with a weak whine of a noise, eyes locked with Zagreus’. Tears spill from both mentor and mentee, humiliation and guilt fresh and painfully simmering at the surface.

It doesn’t take long for Hades to finish either, the tightening and tensing of Achilles sees well to that, milking him for most of what he is worth, gladly and eagerly filling the Shade so much that his come spills out of him before Hades has even pulled out. When he does so Achilles groans, a little too loud in the almost silence aside from panting gasps for breath, and Hades takes a moment to look, really watch as his seed spills from the Shade. Satisfied and content at the results of his lesson; Achilles broken and slumped against spoiled sheets, and Zagreus broken and tearful on the floor.

“You should think about the consequences of you actions next time, boy.”

With that Hades rights his clothing and lifts himself from the bed, the door slams closed behind him leaving his Shade and his son alone to reap what they have sown.

#hacilles #??? #what is their ship name #hades/achilles #noncon #tw: noncon #noncon tw #dead dove do not eat #abuse tw #blackmailing tw #voyeurism #exhibitionism #humiliation #embarrassment #crying #el writes #thanatossimp #nsft