InsaneJournal

Ariadne looked at the number of tabs open on her laptop and told herself she had to concentrate. That was why she was here, to concentrate, away from distractions.

Here was her office, a small one she’d been given in the clinic for the duration of her placement. It was hers during the mornings, but she shared it with Shona who took clients here in the afternoon. But, lucky for her, not on Saturdays. And extra lucky, no one minded her staying a few extra hours in the afternoon to work on her thesis.

Her other options were 1, her office on campus. It was fine, but quite the commute from Dioynsus’ apartment.

2, her own flat. Not brilliant, because it was tiny, there were several flatmates around, and it was also quite the commute from Dionysus’ apartment.

Or 3, here. A short four city blocks from Dionysus’ apartment and surrounded by professionals who were all focused on the same topics as she was. It was great! Far, but not too far. She could see her clients in the morning and spend the afternoon rearranging one of the chapters of her thesis. The rearranging she should have finished last week – her meeting with her supervisor was on Monday – but…

Well, but Dionysus.

The reunion sex had been mindblowing, and continued to be mindblowing. The parties he constantly held at his place were the most fun she’d had in years – and she’d had fun! So much fun on campus, so much fun with her mortal friends, but… with Dionysus everything was on a whole nother level. He made her laugh all the time, made her sing, and made it very, very hard to concentrate on the work she was supposed to be doing.

Although she supposed she wasn’t helping herself, anytime she went with study location 4: his place. If she was being honest with herself, she knew that setting her laptop up on the table was an invitation to Dionysus to try and steal her attention away. She knew that saying ‘please, I need to get this editing done’ would make him pout those enticing lips of his, and that the harder she tried (she wasn’t trying that hard) to ignore him the faster he’d crawl under the table and encourage her knees to open with kisses up her thighs.

She supposed if she really wanted to concentrate on editing she’d be wearing more than one of his luxurious (and very short) silken robes.

He’d even graded her last night, seeing as she was so focused (he claimed) on doing well instead of doing him. Never mind that she had him pressed up against the wine cellar door at the time, and his fingers were doing invasive and highly arousing things to her, her attention so intensely focused on him even as he complained that it was split.

A- he’d drawn on her naked back with one of those clever fingers later. Could do better.

Could I?! she’d taken the challenge exactly as it was intended to be taken, and tied him tightly to the bed with four of his brightly coloured scarves and tormented him till he gave her the grade she deserved.

Ariadne liked coming top of the class.

She quite enjoyed coming top of everything.

… And now she’d been staring out of the window thinking about him for – shit, twenty minutes instead of doing any work. She gave herself a little slap on the cheek and forced her attention back to the screen, where a whole paragraph highlighted in yellow demanded to be rewritten.

Maybe she shouldn’t have left him tied to the bed. But it wasn’t like he was going to stay tied. She’d stepped over three sleeping bodies in various stages of undress as she made her way through the kitchen for toast this morning, one of them was bound to wake up soon and help him out, either by untying him or… by not untying him. She’d promised to pop home at lunchtime if she hadn’t heard from him, just in case no one was sober enough to manage the knots, but around 11 she’d opened a message from him: a video of someone dragging her tongue up the shaft of his cock and the cheerful text ‘wish you were here!’ written underneath it.

So he was fine.

Concentrate. Ariande shook her head, and cleared all other thoughts from her mind, and for the next hour immersed herself in her work, ignoring the pings of notifications on her phone. Later baby she thought, smiling to herself, and allowing one brief thought of later before pulling her attention back, though her legs remained crossed as she started typing again, thighs squeezed tightly together.


As midafternoon rolled around, she had migrated onto the sofa to read a study that showed how gratitude could predict someone’s wellbeing more accurately than looking at the big five personality traits. Like many things Ariadne ended up reading, it wasn’t related to her thesis directly at all – but it was fascinating. Dionysus wasn’t the only thing that could distract her.

How were you supposed to figure out where an unknown path led if you didn’t wander down it a ways, after all?

She yawned as she finished reading the study, bookmarking the bibliography to pour through later, and picked herself up off the sofa. She’d love a wine, but no, no, she would pop down to the cafe at the corner and get a coffee, do a couple more hours, and then wander home, where there would be wine aplenty.

According to her phone, wine was already flowing back at his place. Not that she needed a phone to tell her that – wine was always flowing, and Dionysus flowing with it. She read through her messages as she walked the short block down to the cafe, most of them pictures, few of them texts, a couple of them videos. She turned her volume down most of the way as she hit play on a video of a bare chested Dionysus (wearing one of her dresses, though the top was unzipped and hung around his hips) making out with a man Ariadne semi-recognised. It was hard to tell, with her husband on his face. She tilted her head curiously as she walked and peered at the screen closer – and walked straight into someone coming out of the cafe. Her phone slipped from her hand as coffee splashed everywhere, and she yelped in surprise and tried to grab it – or the coffee – or him – or to do anything she could to try to help.