Work Text:
Melinoë didn't know what a traditional childhood was, only that she didn't have one. She knew some concepts; she was supposed to have been raised by a loving mother and a stern but caring father. She was supposed to grow under their care with her brother and their dog. She was supposed to want for nothing and face no responsibilities until adulthood. Instead, Melinoë received none of that. Her family was trapped, missing, or perhaps worse, at the hands of her grandfather, the Titan of Time, Chronos. From the moment she could understand language, Melinoë was told that her purpose was to defeat him. From the moment she could walk, she was trained for said purpose.
It didn't bother her, not really. It used to, when Melinoë was young and couldn’t fully understand the cruelties of the world she was born into. As she grew older though, the princess understood that any regrets or wishes were useless. Her energy was better spent on training. She would have the time to spend on other such things when Time was dead.
Still, Melinoë couldn't always stop her mind from disobeying her. Once, when she was young, Melinoë asked Hecate how she could stop having unwanted and unneeded thoughts. The Titaness shook her head, “You cannot stop them, you can only adapt to them. Mastering your thoughts does not entail trimming away anything you do not deem necessary, you must examine them, deny the ones that would do you harm and incorporate the rest. Nothing good will come of you denying your own needs, young Melinoë.”
Said goddess scrunched her nose and nodded slowly as she parsed through her guardian's words. Melinoë didn't know how to do that, but Hecate was never wrong, so it had to be just like everything else she had learned. Practice would be Melinoë's companion once again.
There was one place in all the Crossroads that always settled Melinoë, no matter what was causing the young goddess distress, even if it was herself.
Hypnos's alcove was relatively secluded, despite being so close to the main walkway of the haven. Large pillars encircled Hypnos's resting place, and nearly every centimetre of open space between them was filled with poppies. Enchanted black stones and little shades ensured that no matter the weather, the area was always well kept. With the rear and one side of the clearing being guarded by trees, Hypnos's garden was almost always shielded from prying eyes, even if the sanctity of the Crossroads were disturbed.
All things considered, it was the perfect place for Melinoë to be as alone as possible.
Nemesis always made fun of Melinoë for talking to Hypnos, and although the others never said anything, their tight lips regarding the chthonic god told Melinoë enough. He was asleep, no spell or ritual could wake him. They all thought he couldn't hear them, that it, he, was hopeless. Melinoë never gave up hope though.
If a spell couldn't wake him, Melinoë would fulfill her duty and kill Chronos. If Hypnos fell into his slumber when Chronos took over, perhaps the Titan's fall would wake him. If not, Melinoë would find another way. She would not give up on Hypnos.
When she was little, and tried to settle her mind, Melinoë would nestle into his side and imagine what Hypnos would do once he woke up. He would have a lot of catching up to do, with his large family and whatever friends he had back at the House and elsewhere. Melinoë knew that he had some sort of administrative role, so Hypnos would be busy as all the shades that were kicked out or never had a chance to go to the Underworld flooded back in. Yet Melinoë would be there to make sure he took a break, it was the least she could do for him.
As Melinoë grew older, she couldn't fit inside Hypnos's blankets anymore, but that didn't change her visits, nor her goals. After hours of intensive training, physical, mental, and spiritual, she would come visit Hypnos and sit on the ground near the sleeping god. Somehow, his presence always managed to calm her. Even as Nemesis beat her in their sparring, as her magic stalled against Hecate, as her own mind whispered that she'd never be good enough, Hypnos made Melinoë relax. She wondered if that was why mortals loved to sleep so much, and if maybe once he was awake, he would help her dream without nightmares. But that was a selfish thought, one that wasn't necessary for her goal.
When she was young, Melinoë asked Hecate when she'd discover her godly attribute. When she was older, was the simple answer. The complicated answer was that it would depend on Melinoë. There would be hints along the way, powers unique to her that would grow stronger as she aged, but the process was different for each god. Melinoë was disappointed, at first from the thought that that meant it wouldn't likely help her task that much, but as she got older, the disappointment stung deeper. No powers had manifested themselves, beyond what she could attribute to her bloodline and Hecate's training. It began to feel like a personal failing. Worse, was when her nightmares decided to taunt her with that failure as well.
Relying on Hypnos’s presence to comfort her was selfish and a waste of time. Her task was going to begin in earnest soon, so Melinoë avoided his alcove like the plague. Every waking moment was dedicated to training and every sleeping moment reminded her of what would happen if she failed. The young goddess didn’t exactly wake up refreshed, but her nightmares were motivation enough to keep going.
Melinoë woke from the latest batch of horrors her mind supplied with renewed determination to prevent such a thing from happening. Thankfully, her training came in handy, and she was able to push the imagery out of her mind while maintaining the fear that came with it. Fear was useful, everything else was not.
When she greeted Hecate and her retinue at the cauldron, her Headmistress surprised her. “Melinoë, you may take today to rest. Your task will begin on the morrow. Prepare your mind,” the titaness nodded her head, then turned to the shade of a witch next to her. They continued with whatever their previous conversation was, ignoring the way Melinoë was stunned into silence.
A day off? She hadn’t had one of those in… Quite frankly Melinoë couldn’t remember the last time she had an entire free day. After a moment of staring foolishly, the princess turned away from her mentor and walked back into her tent. A full day to prepare her mind. Yet, Melinoë felt ready. She was confident that she would succeed. There was no alternative. Dora wasn’t even in her tent to keep her company for once! Maybe she should take advantage of this brief period of peace to organise her shelves again. They were perfectly arranged, but changing things to celebrate the beginning of her task would be a good use of her time…
Melinoë shook her head to chide herself. Headmistress Hecate said that proper rest was an essential aspect of self-maintenance. She needed to get out of her tent, but she was certain that if she went to the training grounds, Nemesis would tattle on her. Perhaps the Taverna? No, she didn’t want to be around the shades right now.
After a second’s more thought, the goddess realised exactly where she was going to go, and felt a little silly for not realising it sooner. Melinoë marched straight out of her tent and didn’t stop until she was in the safety of Hypnos’s alcove. Once there, she took a moment to simply breathe in the smell of the poppies. The noise of the Crossroads felt far away. Melinoë could feel her shoulders lower as she relaxed.
Although she was far too old for it, Melinoë allowed herself to be selfish this once. As carefully as possible, the young goddess climbed into Hypnos’s blankets. It was a tighter fit than she remembered, and Melinoë had to press herself tight against the other god’s body to keep from falling out.
She breathed in deeply, taking in the stale scent of poppies and his blankets. Warmth blossomed in Melinoë’s chest and she nuzzled into Hypnos’s chest. He made sweet, small noises as he breathed. It would be only too easy to be lulled in by his song and join the god of sleep in his domain. Melinoë needed to stay awake though, so she allowed her mind to wander as she traced the lines of Hypnos’s sweater. It didn’t take long for it to wander back to the last time she was here.
It wasn’t that long ago, but it was long enough that she didn’t remember exactly when. The memory fell into that hazy area in her mind. Melinoë felt a pang of guilt that she’d spent so long away, but she pushed that feeling away to linger on the events of that night.
After a long training session with Nem, Melinoë’s body was tired yet energised. Far too wired to sleep, and unable to relax with meditation, the young goddess went to see Hypnos.
She lost track of the time that she spent, just staring at the slumbering god and thinking. If—when she succeeded in her task, Hypnos would wake. He would be so grateful, even though she did it for many reasons, he would know that Melinoë did it for him as well. The god of sleep would thank her, and insist on repaying her in some way. He would kiss her deeply, and shove his hands up her dress—
Melinoë stopped her thoughts in their tracks. What was she doing? It was wrong to think of the god like that, like this. Yet now the idea cemented itself in her mind, and it wouldn’t leave. Heat pooled in both her face and her groin. She wasn’t ignorant of what that meant, but she was always able to ignore it before.
Although… She was entirely alone, save for the sleeping Hypnos. Melinoë took a risk, and trailed her corporeal hand up her thighs.
It was a pleasant experience, and one that Melinoë was all too eager to partake in again. At this time of night, the closest one to Hypnos’s alcove would be Odysseus, and he was off surveying her route into the Underworld. No one would hear her if she indulged.
Heat pooled low in Melinoë’s stomach already, and her breathing quickened. With her face buried in Hypnos’s chest, Melinoë reached down and rucked her dress up. The cool air of The Crossroads hit her lower half, but she could hardly feel it. With a shift, the young goddess pressed her mound down onto Hypnos’s leg. The fabric of his robe pressed into her. It wasn’t the most pleasant sensation, but she knew that would change quickly.
To help herself along, Melinoë slipped her hands under her dress, pulling it up further as she reached for her breasts. She squeezed the pert mounds, massaging the flesh tenderly. Before she knew it, the princess closed her eyes, falling back into a daydream.
Chronos was dead, and Melinoë had ensured he wasn’t coming back. She reunited with her family, meeting her father and mother and brother. Despite the time it took to save them, they loved her. Head Mistress Hecate was proud of her, and reassured the young goddess that The Crossroads would always be open to her. Even Nemesis admitted that Mel had done well.
Even though it was everything she ever hoped for, there was someone missing. Someone that Melinoë desperately wanted to see. She made her way back to The Crossroads, abandoned, as everyone was celebrating elsewhere. In a familiar alcove, a sleeping god was opening his eyes.
Pink? No, golden. Like Nem’s. Confused for a moment, but rapidly brightening the longer they stayed open. Hypnos had awoken, and he and Melinoë were alone.
“Nn~ ahh…” Melinoë couldn’t help the little sounds that left her throat as she rolled her nipples between her fingertips. The fabric under her was beginning to grow damp, and the more she rocked her hips into Hypnos, the wetter it got. It didn’t take much longer for the glide against him to become effortless.
Melinoë explained what happened to Hypnos, and at first he was in shock. Then, he was grateful. “You have my eternal gratitude, and a debt I can never repay,” the god of sleep’s voice was smooth, and filled with intense emotion. His eyes roamed over the younger goddess’s body. “Yet… I must ask for more. It has been so long since I have felt another’s touch. Would it trouble my saviour to embrace me?”
Melinoë could never argue against such words, and she easily stepped into Hypnos’s open arms. Their touch remained chaste for but a moment before the god’s hands began to wander. They trailed down the goddess’s back before settling on her rear. He squeezed the flesh tight, and when Melinoë gasped, he took that chance to invade her mouth with his tongue.
The fabric beneath her was thoroughly soaked, and her chest was getting sore. As comfortable as she was, Melinoë had to readjust. It was a little awkward—she really was too large for this—but eventually she managed to resituate herself.
Melinoë leaned back against Hypnos’s chest, sitting in his lap, and hooked her legs around the outside of the blankets in order to keep her legs spread. Her head leaned back on his shoulder, his long silver hair tickling her face slightly. With her live hand, Melinoë slipped her fingers through her folds, ensuring they were thoroughly wetted.
The princess couldn’t wait much longer, and slowly pressed her fingers inside herself.
When he pulled back, a string of saliva connected them. “Allow me to show my gratitude, and my selfishness, by pleasing you,” he whispered against Melinoë’s lips. She nodded, and Hypnos wasted no time before he picked her up and placed her in his bed of blankets.
The god of sleep pressed his hips flush to the younger goddess’s. She could feel his hard length press against her even through the layers of fabric that he wore. Melinoë’s own dress did little to separate them. His cool lips found Melinoë’s neck, and Hypnos pressed open mouthed kisses down the length of it. The older god squeezed her ass briefly before moving his hands to her front. One hand groped and grabbed Melinoë’s chest through her dress, while the other slid up underneath the fabric.
Melinoë tried to echo the movements she imagined on herself, but despite her stamina, she was already approaching that peak. Muffling a moan into Hypnos’s chest, the princess’s fingers sped up.
Hypnos pressed himself inside of her, slowly, though he trembled with the effort it took to hold himself back. Melinoë’s hands grabbed the back of his shoulders, pulling him down into her. Their lips met in a messy tangle of teeth and tongues. Neither could hold back their noises, though Melinoë could hardly hear herself over the wet slapping of their coupling.
“Thank you, thank you,” Hypnos groaned out praises and gratitude as he fucked the princess. Despite his title and reputation, the god of sleep’s pace grew punishing. Melinoë gasped and moaned as each thrust pressed deep inside of her, stoking the flames of pleasure.
“I won’t, ah, last long,” Hypnos said, “Cum with me, princess!” His rhythm began to falter, but he made up for it with a burst of speed. His thumb rubbed messy circles around her clit, and it didn’t take much longer for his cock to throb and spill into Melinoë’s womb.
“Hypnos!” The young goddess called out the slumbering god’s name as she reached her peak. Her fingers curled up and dragged across her sensitive walls, drawing out the pleasure further. She spasmed and twitched, grinding down further onto both herself and him.
Once the aftershocks subsided, Melinoë breathed in deeply, trying to imagine how the smell of poppies and must would change after such activities. The longer she stayed there, the easier it was to imagine, and the easier to believe that Hypnos’s body wrapped around hers on purpose.
After a few more moments, Melinoë sighed and crawled out of the mass of blankets. She cringed at the wetness on her hands and rubbed them on the grass to try and dry them a bit. She would take a bath later, before she slept.
Before that though, Melinoë reached out and caressed Hypnos’s face. His cool skin was soft, untouched by time. He mumbled a little, but no words left him. She tried not to feel disappointed, a miniscule part of her believed that he might wake up during all this. The princess knew it was silly, but she cursed herself for hoping for it anyway.
It was just motivation for her task. Melinoë pressed a quick kiss to Hypnos’s lips, resting her forehead against his before she spoke. “Wait for me, Hypnos. You’ll be awake before you know it.”