AN: It's ab to get a little freaky deaky yaaaalll enjoy 6.7k of dirt!!
hope it's not too terrible :]
*While pronouns remain gender-neutral, reader will be described with female anatomy, including breasts and vagina.*
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You are at a loss.
Genuinely, you don't know what to do.
As fast and lithe as you are in the air, you manage to track Zagreus through Tartarus and Asphodel, only to stop just before the gates leading into Elysium. Not that there's guards posted, but you're fully aware of what will happen to you the moment you flutter over the dewy grass and down the cool tunnels. You’d rather avoid unnecessary altercations. Meaning you lost Zagreus. Meaning you can't talk to him. Meaning you have to wait until he comes to you.
Fine. You're patient. All you have to do is lie and wait for your prey. Sounds easy enough. You’ve done it before after all.
As it turns out, you’re not as patient as you used to be.
Maybe it’s because you haven’t cared so much for another in a long time. Maybe it’s because you’re used to people falling at your feet with just a flare of your aura. Or maybe immortality is finally catching up to you. Whatever the reason, it’s taking every ounce of strength not to snap as you make your way back to your chamber after another full day of work torturing sinners, consuming souls, carrying out orders for the Erinyes. Too tired to zoom through the Tartarian atmosphere, you hover above ground, your face twisted into a scowl, an obvious bloodlust practically flooding out of you in dark waves, forcing fellow demons and condemned shades to part around you like the Red Sea.
Over a week passed and not a single trace of Zagreus. He’s mentioned before that the Underworld works as a labyrinth, no chamber or path across constructed to be the same. Yet somehow, he’s managed to allude your chamber altogether.
Zagreus is avoiding you, or at the very least, doing everything in his power to.
Fucking hell.
This is your fault. Your choice hurt him, but is it truly outlandish a thought to want to stay in your home. To stay in the familiarity of it all. As beautiful as the surface is, it doesn’t have the sparkling stalactites that decorate the ceiling of Tartarus or the warmth of the lava rivers of the Phlegathon (though they should really fix that). It doesn’t give you the best job in the world.
No, it’s no one’s fault that your paths diverge, that you want different things.
… Did Zagreus make it out? Is that why you haven’t seen him? Has he finally escaped? The thought strikes your heart like a thunderbolt, sharp and overtaking, your breathes coming in shallow as your mind races. It has been a week. Perhaps in that time, Zagreus manage to reach the surface.
But Zagreus said he’ll see you soon. Surely he wouldn’t just leave, not without a goodbye at least. You’re closer than that, aren’t you?
Your breathes comes quick and short, your eyes stinging. Who are you kidding, you think wryly as you approach your chamber. With a leap, you gracefully land on your balcony. As gentlemanly as he is, he isn’t obligated to do such things, you realize, pushing open the balcony door and stepping inside. You shouldn’t expect such courtesies from— “Zagreus?”
His name comes out breathlessly, and you blink back your surprise, the door shutting behind you with a soft click. Zagreus kneels on the rug at the foot of your bed, burying his face into the mess of blankets, hands fisting your sheets. His back to you, you watch his broad shoulders rise and fall, his torso heaving with every breathe, like each one is a struggle, though he can’t seem to pull away as he presses his face deeper into your blankets with a muffled groan.
At your voice, he stiffens. Then, like a child caught red-handed, he lifts his head and turns to look over his shoulder at you, bleary-eyed, as if just awoken from a dream. “(Your Name), I thought—blood and darkness, how long have I…”
His voice is hoarse, and as he trails off, you start towards him, brow furrowed with concern, “Are you alright?”
“I'm fine, I just—ngh…” Zagreus groans again, slumping against the bedside. In the firelight, his skin gleams with a thin sheen of sweat. His gaze switches between everything in the room and you, only it seems he refuses to meet your gaze, his unfocused gaze roaming your figure and settling over your shoulder, above your brow, your clavicle. Anywhere but your eyes.
You raise a brow at his odd behavior, leaning down and reaching for him.
“Don’t—”
Before you could stop, the back of your hand’s pressing against his forehead, “You’re burning up. Are you sure—”
At your touch, Zagreus jerks away with a gasp, as if your skin is as scalding as the Asphodel lava rivers. Startled, you trail after him as he stumbles to his feet, frowning when he pauses at your love seat and grips the arm for support.
“Zagreus, please, you’re obviously unwell,” You start, reaching out again before recalling his previous reaction. Filling the silence, your tone is understanding even as your chest constricts achingly, your hand falling limp at your side.
“I’m truly sorry if I upset you before, and I understand if you don’t want to be around me right now. But—”
“What?” His head snaps to you so fast the room spins, and Zagreus has to pinch his eyes shut to shake his stupor. “No, that’s not it. I—it’s just—” On instinct, he fully turns to face you, trying to conjure the best words to explain.
Then your eyes drop below his waist and he freezes. You freeze.
You blink up at him. Then down at him.
Oh.
Oh.
Zagreus, flushed and looking as if Lernie swallowed him whole and spat him out, is hard. So much so there’s a prominent bulge in his tights and tenting his toga. A wet splotch darkens the fabric.
Drool pools in your mouth, and you swallow.
Zagreus clears his throat, “Aphrodite, she…”
Ah. Side effects. Of course.
Your gaze shoots up to his face, your own quickly burning. Zagreus's jaw flexes, face flushed though you’re not sure from embarrassment or lust. Maybe both. Unable to meet your gaze, he sighs in defeat, “I didn’t want you to see me like this.”
You tilt your head curiously, “What do you mean? You know I’m the last person who’d judge you for something like this.” As a literal sex demon, you've seen your fair share of boners, though admittedly not as… equipped as Zagreus appears to be. The tent seems to grow at your acknowledgement, which shouldn't phase you. And yet…
Zagreus shakes his head, “That’s not it.”
Heat gathers between your thighs. you ignore it. “Okay, then please explain.”
“I—I…” Zagreus lips part and close, looking at all but you as he hesitates. It takes a moment for him to collect his thoughts, and when he speaks, his tone is strained, raspy, like his throat went dry. “I wanted to see you, believe me. But then Aphrodite offered me boons and only her, and I’ve never relied solely on her before. I just… couldn’t allow myself to see you in this state.”
Zagreus glances down at himself, and your eyes flick back to the boner straining under his toga.
“I was grateful enough that Tartarus hadn’t led me to your chamber, well, up til now. I’m sorry; I didn’t want you to think I came here expecting anything of you or—”
“Do you want my help?”
Finally, Zagreus meets your gaze, eyes wide, taken aback. “Excuse me?”
“I asked if you want my help?” You tilt your chin up, your tone oddly casual and cool, your stare intense.
His heart shivers. “It’s okay, you don’t have to—”
“You didn’t answer me,” You step closer, enough you have to tilt your head back in order to maintain eye contact, gaze unwavering. “Do you want my help? Yes or no?”
You lick your lips, and Zagreus follows the movement, his breath stalling as they gleam in the light invitingly. His heart thrums in his chest, his blood roaring louder than ever in his ears, in his cock, his breaths coming in shallow. When he speaks, the word comes hushed and breathless.
“Yes. I do.”
Something in your eyes shift. Gone is the calm, steady (your eye color) gaze as your pupils thin with a predatory glint. With a small push, you sit him down on the loveseat and lower yourself, the fur rug soft on your knees.
Then you're tugging down his tights, and he hisses as your warm hand gently pulls him out.
You softly curse, resting your head on his inner thigh as you eye his dick with what Zagreus can only describe as hunger. The thought sends a wave of heat through his entire being, as if you're a worshipper at his very own temple, praying to him instead of cursing his name. You're so close, your warm breath puffs against his cock, sending shivers through his shaft and up his spine.
Zagreus breathes, “I hope that's a good curse.”
“Very,” You flash him a ravenous smile, canines glinting. Gripping the base, you place a sweet kiss to his tip, making him sigh, before running your tongue along the underside of his cock, from base to tip, his thighs clenching as you stop to tongue the tip.
It’s as you thought; Zagreus is packing.
You lavish him, licking and sucking yet not fully taking him in. The skin's soft, but he’s hard as hell, smelling like sweat and soap and bonfire. And it’s good. It tastes like you can easily get addicted to him, the weight of him evident on your tongue. A part of you always wondered—imagined what hid underneath every time he dropped by your room brandishing bloodied wounds, his clothes burnt or torn in places revealing just a little more skin. But as quickly as they came, you brushed aside the thought, feeling as if you crossed a line. Zagreus is your friend—your closest friend even. It felt wrong, at the time.
Now, as Zagreus moans and twitches above you, the edge of the arm rest caving under his grip, you think you're a little more than that at this point.
“(Your Name),” Zagreus grinds out as you suck at the head leisurely.
His dick gleams with precum and spit as you pull away and glance up at him, playing innocent, “Hm? What is it?”
“More,” Zagreus grinds his teeth, bucking into your hand.
“More…?” You prompt, pumping his cock at a leisure pace. He’s big, enough that he fills your hand with his girth, and your clit pulses as you imagine how much he’d stretch you out. He'd probably test your limits. Oh, how’d you let him.
Zagreus shoots you a desperate, almost pained look, rolling his hips into your hand as he hisses, “Take more of me. Please, (Your Name).”
Blood and darkness, when he puts it like that… Each crude word makes the ever-growing moisture build between your thighs.
To distract yourself, you duck your head, finally taking him into your mouth. Zagreus groans, throwing his head against the backrest as you relax yourself, taking him deeper and deeper, but he’s too big. Even you can only take so much, you realize as his tip nudges the back of your throat and tears well in your eyes.
Zagreus seems unbothered though. He strains to keep his eyes open, as if not wanting to miss a second of this. Sweat beads his forehead. His chest heaves with each labored breath, his other hand digging into his thigh. Your mouth full, you reach out, and he glances down at you as you guide his hand to the back of your head, urging him. You want him to feel good. You want to learn what he likes. How he likes it.
Zagreus swears he can’t get any harder than he is now. With an understanding nod, his hand moves.
Then he's fucking your mouth.
Despite the aphrodisiac haze, he’s not forceful or rough as you expected, and you’re not complaining. It's a nice change of pace from your usual sinners, normally too blinded by your lust-inducing aura to be cognizant as you (literally) suck their souls dry.
And Zagreus doesn’t seem concerned by the prospect of turning to dust. Instead, he gazes down at you, heavy eyes burning as he meets you halfway, hips trembling as if holding back from completely shoving himself down your esophagus. His thrusts are careful, slow. He thrusts again and again, the wet echoes of noise **filling your chamber, until eventually your nose grazes his pelvis. His dick’s already so far down your throat, you concentrate on inhaling through your nose before you suffocate.
Gods, what a way to the River Styx. You can imagine it now. Lord Hypnos reciting outloud as you approach the King of the Underworld; (Your First Name) (Your Last Name). CoD: Oral asphyxiation by godly cock. Lord Hades would have a field day.
You know Zagreus is. For all his gentleness, Zagreus is quite vocal, and you love it. His cock grazes the back for your throat, he grunts. You moan around him and he pants like a dog. He grunts and groans, each sound going straight to your clit. You’re forced to ignore the urge to touch yourself, choosing to occupy your hand with massaging his balls, the other gripping the base of his dick.
Zagreus's thrusts falter, and you take over, sucking him harder and faster while pumping what can’t fit in your mouth. Above, he yelps, his breaths coming quick and shallow.
Blood and darkness, he’s so close. His vision blurs and he blinks, concentrating on breathing and you. Saliva and precum leaks from the corner of your mouth, a trail of tears stream down your cheeks, and snot drips from your nose. Oh gods, he’s made a mess of you, yet you persist, too engrossed in the pride and pleasure.
Zagreus thinks you look just as beautiful as the first day he entered your chambers.
Before you know it, he shudders over you as ropes of cum shoot down your throat. You swallow, continuing to suck him off eagerly as his back arches into you and the armrest crumbles under his death grip. There’s so much, spilling from the corners of your mouth, streaming down your chin. He moans, pulling you off him. Gods, he's still hard.
As if you hold all the answers to his problems, he stares bleary-eyed as you move to stand between his legs. You cock your head, wiping your mouth. Normally, you don’t feel anything when you engross yourself in work, but this didn’t feel like work at all. In truth, the usual sense of focus that washes over you is replaced with a warm pride, making you smile as you await for him to catch his breath.
Then he pulls you in and his lips crash over yours.
Something short-circuits in your brain, and any hesitation you felt previously dissipate as you tilt your head to deepen the kiss. You lost count how many times you imagined kissing Zagreus. Wondered what’d he be like, how he’d feel. It’s more than you could've dreamed. Everything you've wanted.
Unlike the gentle care earlier, he kisses you hungrily, like you sucked the soul out of him and he wants it back, a push and pull that you return in kind. His lips are soft against your own, and when his tongue grazes the seam of your mouth, you gladly part your lips, your tongues meeting eagerly. He groans at the taste of himself, dirty and unrestrained.
Fuck, you want to devour this man. To climb into his lap and ride him until tomorrow comes. Until he's got nothing left in him, nothing but you on his mind. On his lips. On his tongue.
Before you even get the chance, big hands grip the back of your thighs, and Zagreus swallows your surprise as he lifts you into his arms and stands. Refusing to break the kiss, it's a few steps when he unceremoniously lays you out like a feast on the bed.
There’s only a moment’s breath before Zagreus is upon you once more. You gaze up at him, captivated as he crawls over you like a panther, his movements graceful, heated stare gleaming in the firelight. He's tall—you know—but it's more evident now as he reaches your face and captures your lips again, more languid now, your tongues intertwining. His body drapes over yours, encompassing you in his embrace as he cages you between strong forearms. So close you can feel the body heat coming off him like a furnace.
Your arms come around his neck, fingers combing through his hair and bringing him closer. He groans and kisses you harder, mumbling in between, “I want you, I want you. I want you so much—you don’t know how much I l—”
“Then show me,” You urge, grinding your core against his cock, unyielding and warm, precum soaking into your chiton. A glimmer in his eyes, Zagreus kisses you with renewed vigor, something unspoken passing between you as his hands begin to wander. Over your thighs, up your ribs, until he grazes the curve below your breasts. He massages you over the fabric, swallowing your sweet mewls, and you’re forced to break away for air. But his lips chase after yours.
When you help him shrug off your chiton, enough to expose your chest, it’s then he allows you to catch your breath as he pulls back, leaning over you and simply watching your chest rise and fall, like he’s trying to commit this to memory. Seconds pass and you begin to squirm; you’ve been stared at before—your victims usually leer at you—and it always made your skin crawl, which you’re used to, but this…
His eyes are so warm, heterochromia shimmering with admiration and awe, as if your body was made with the finest porcelain and adorned with gold. Burning under the heat of his stare, you bring an arm up to cover yourself.
“Stop that,” Zagreus pushes your arm aside, instead grabbing your hand and twining your fingers together. “Let me see you.”
“How about less ‘see’ing,” You reach down, and you bite your lip, smearing a bead of precum over the head of his cock. “And more doing.”
He shudders, head dropping to your chest. Not between your breasts but above, where your heart stutters as his breath puffs against your sternum, sending goosebumps along your flesh. “Soon, I promise. I have too many things I want to do to you, and it’s a bit overwhelming.”
“Oh? What kinds of things?”
He groans, “Blood and darkness, where do I start?” He kisses just above your breasts as he palms them with firm hands. Your breathing grows heavy, arching into him, egging him on. Slowly, he kisses his way down, his tongue laving around your areola before taking your nipple into his mouth and sucking. With the other hand he massages the other, making sure both get the attention they deserve. His eyes flick to your face, watching smugly as you whimper and gasp, chest heaving. He switches to the other side, giving the same treatment to the other. Slow, torturous kitten licks that leave you arching into his mouth.
You almost whine when he pulls away, but it’s not for long as he kisses his way down your stomach, from your navel, to the crook of your hips, to top of your thighs. Then he’s tugging down your chiton, pushing your legs apart as he lowers himself for worship, as if you’re not some common demon but a god.
Cheeks burning, you purse your lip and close your legs, unable to help yourself.
“Nope, none of that,” He scoffs, gently pushing your knees apart again.
You squirm, “Then don’t stare.”
“Why not,” He snorts, pointedly looking at your pussy.
“It’s embarrassing.”
“It’s pretty,” He corrects, managing a chuckle. He’s breathless from the aphrodisiac, and his eyes, warm and affectionate, sweep over your form, from your core and trailing up to your chest, until they finally meet your gaze. “You’re pretty. I don’t think I’ve outright said that yet.”
“No, I don’t believe so,” Your cheeks flush, and you squirm as his hands grip your thighs. It’s mortifying, really. Such simple words you’re more than familiar with and yet you find yourself growing hotter by the touch from each word. Zagreus is surprisingly alert for someone in a lust-inducing haze. Your previous contractors, prisoners, victims; they’d compliment you, sure, shower you in honeyed words and the sweetest adulations—anything that could excite you.
You’ve grown to hate the overly sweet. The unnecessary admirations and endorsements.
It came with a price. An exchange you weren’t always keen to take part in.
Except it’s your job. Your food.
Still, such pleasantries lost their meaning with time, and you found yourself inwardly rolling your eyes at your victims, suppressing the urge to gag at them.
However, you don’t feel such a way as Zagreus places a tender kiss to your clit. Instead, your breath hitches, and you accept each appraisal with a mix of joy and uncertainty. You’re unsure how much is honest and true, where the aphrodisiac starts and where Zagreus ends as he languidly flicks his tongue over your clit, until you can't help but savor each stroke. His tongue flattens, licking hard and long swipes up the seam of your core, as if taking care not to waste a drop of the most delectable nectar.
You almost scoff at the irony; he’s a god after all. You imagine he's used to the taste.
Then he dives nose first into your sex, dipping his hot tongue into you, and you think perhaps he doesn’t quite indulge himself as much as you thought. Otherwise, he wouldn’t be pressing his face into you like it's his first taste of ambrosia.
“Blood and darkness, you taste better than I imagined,” He murmurs into you, and you stifle your moans because he imagined you? They way you thought of him?
He tongues your cunt with fervor. His grip on your thighs is firm, unrelenting as he keeps them out of his way. He doesn’t even bother to look up at you, his eyes closed while he buries his nose in you, seemingly content in just tasting you till you tire of him, which you highly doubt you will. You can’t remember the last person who went down on you. Your prisoners were always selfish in their desire, most sinners are.
You forgot how pleasant it was, how hot it feels.
Zagreus isn't shy about it either. He moans into you, the tone needy and deprived, reverberating against your folds as he firmly laps and slurps at your pussy. You’re not even sure what he’s trying for. There’s no fishing for cues: he does what he feels like, which seems to be everything. He’s just happy to be down there, and there’s no stopping him as he finds ways that make your back arch, your body jump, and your hips grind against his mouth. You’re helpless, in a womb of pleasure, only able to weakly grip at his sweaty, dark hair. It’s all too much yet not enough.
As if reading your mind, he rises for breathe, leaving you empty and cold.
“Zagreus, please,” You beg, weakly batting his head away when he tries to dive in again. He looks up, lower half of his face glistening with your slick, “Gods…”
He licks his lips, barely wiping his face as he crawls back up and kisses you. His tongue tastes of you, and you both groan.
“No gods,” He breathes. His nose brushes yours, and his eyes seem to bore into you. “Only me.”
Yes, just Zagreus and you in your chamber. For the briefest moment, you’re reminded Zagreus is Cthonic royalty, that you’re completely different stations, that what you’re so close to committing is inappropriate of your status, unless you dredge up the will to push him away. You’re better than this, (Your Name), you tell yourself. You’re more than your nature, more than a demon of Lust. Stop it before you cross the line, before you’re more than friends but less than lovers. Before your heart breaks in the end.
Then his cock leaks onto your thighs, and you shiver with anticipation as he instinctively grinds into you. You groan. You can feel him, his head brushing your clit, hot and growing more slick with every glide against your soaked lips.
So you ignore the whispers of doubt, of facts and logic. Instead, you focus on the growing heat pulsating at your core, the electric jolts of desire that plague you, as you hook your legs around his hips and finally pull him in.
Now, you are simply flesh on flesh.
In truth, more often than not you weren't granted an adjustment period, a moment your victims didn’t care to give. Not that you ever needed it for them.
However, Zagreus is a god, you realize, stretched so taut and delicious around him that you have to breathe through it. Of course his godly genetics would seep into his stature and anatomy.
But you’re a professional.
Only seconds after he fully sheathes himself inside, you sigh, bucking your hips against his. The warmth of you alone sends his eyes rolling back and without another cue, he drags himself out of you. He looks pained, as if he’d rather stay put. His brow furrows, and he bares his teeth, his eyes pinch shut.
His tip is just at your entrance when he stops. Then he’s fucking you. Finally. In and out, his cock drags against your walls as he thrusts into you. He’s quick to find a rhythm as his eyes pry open enough to watch your face, your body language. He captures every gasp that escapes your lips when he thrusts in deep. Every moan when he hits you in that one spot that has you trembling. The way your mouth drops in a groan as he pounds into you with just the right amount of force. Every little thing, he commits it to memory like this might be the last time he gets to have you under him like this. As if you’d never let him touch you again.
Oh, how wrong he'd be. You’d stay forever if it were up to you. Skin upon flesh, bodies barren of cloth; every blemish and scar between you highlighted by the crackling fire of your hearth.
Zagreus fucks you steadily, not in a rush to move on with the run, his thrusts unfaltering. It shouldn’t phase you, but every drag of his cock against your walls is mind-numbing. He’s painstakingly gentle and trembling with restraint, as if you’re some virgin temple maiden who pledged celibacy. It’s maddening.
You clench tight around him and he shudders to a halt. “Zagreus, please,” You reassure him, lightly skimming your hands down his broad shoulders and flexing your walls around him again and again. He whines. “There’s no need to hold back.”
“Don’t think that’s a good idea, love,” Zagreus breathes, sweat gleaming off his bare chest, his forehead. His flaming laurels, long been forgotten, now lay haphazardly on the stone floor, flames flickering to a dim light.
“I’m no mortal,” You smile warmly, eyes crinkling as you wrap your arms around his neck and pull him close till your lips brush his ear. “Trust me, I shall not break.”
In the closeness, you miss it; there’s hearts in his eyes, glittering in the firelight when your words greet his ears. They strike a cord in him, one you don’t even realize he needed.
A huff of amusement escapes him, and you feel his lips curl in a smile against your neck. “If you say so.”
Without warning, his hands grab the back of your thighs. You yelp, not pained but startled as he folds your legs into your chest, baring yourself to him. Your sex glistens and drips, and you crane your neck to see Zagreus’s cock still buried in you, a prominent bulge just below the pouch of your stomach. Your core pulsates.
He pounds into you once more, his grip nearly bruising. His regard for your fragility is out the window as he slams into your slick cunt with renewed vigor. His cock hits your cervix and you groan when his pelvis slams into yours again and again. Jolts of pleasure and pain shoot up your spine, intertwining and unweaving till you no longer can differentiate either.
He curses in your ear, voice low and ragged. Your cunt weeps in response. Your hands scramble for stability, something to ground you as he fucks you like tomorrow is the end of the world. One settles for tangling in your sheets while the other claws at his forearm as he holds your legs open. His muscles flex under your touch. Then, as if reminded he can still touch, his hands are all over you body. There’s no decorum as he switches his grip and moves your legs around his waist, his hands exploring your back, your torso. His hands are so warm, trailing heat along your skin as he finds your necks, your shoulders, your breast. He really likes your breasts, it seems, fucking you hard as he kneads them in tandem, before leaning down and laving at your nipple. He pops one into his mouth hungrily, sucking and tugging. You whine, an ache in your core only growing with each thrust of his hips, each flick of his tongue.
He barely slows down as he pulls his mouth off you with a pop, giving you a few hard thrusts and pulling out. You groan in disappointment, but then his big hands envelope your waist before he flips you onto your stomach, pulling your hips up and entering you once more with a grunt. Your mouth drops from him filling you so quickly.
It feels so good to let loose like this, he thinks, pulling you by your hips as he sheathes himself deep once more. It’s been too long since he enjoyed himself in the throws of pleasure, ramming his cock into your warm and inviting cunt. He'd been so driven and focused on his own goals; not once did he stop for a break, at least not until he stumbled upon you. He never thought to smell the roses along Elysium, or fish along the banks of the Phlegathon.
You're not a distraction though. If you were, you’re the most brilliant distraction he could ever ask for.
He's never seen so much of you—gods, he wishes he had more eyes—unable to decide where to focus on. Where he can keep his eyes without bringing himself over the edge. He made an effort not to stare at you before when you first met, not just because of your exposed skin, but your entire being. Your presence brought with a magnetic glow he couldn’t help but turn and absorb, much like the demon moth to a hell-flame, basking in the warmth.
You writhe and quiver beneath him, every soft curve and sweet angle out just for him as your back arches. It’s too much to bear, so much he forces himself to shut his eyes, much to his chagrin, reaching around and cupping your chest to pull you close. He buries his nose in the crook of your neck. You smell so good, like soap and sex and something else sweet. Not quite nectar but subtle like pomegranates.
Blood and—
It was a mistake sniffing you. He might just cum from your scent alone.
He pulls back enough, only to meet your gaze over your shoulder. Behind his bangs, his mismatched eyes darken as he pants, the shadows contouring his face softening his expression only slightly. He looks like he’s restraining himself from eating you entirely.
Would this be the last you see Zagreus? Hot and lusting for you?
You’ve heard constant updates of his exploits. There were days when it was too much to bare, days where you shielded your ears. Everyday, a shade in the square stood upon the tall gargoyle statues annoucing Lord Hade’s summons for demons to join the frontlines, not for war, but practically putting a bounty on the prince’s head and offering a handsome reward to anyone that even tries to thwart his attempts. At first it was just in Tartarus. But eventually Asphodel, and then Elysium shortly followed.
Zagreus grows further and further away, and you know he’s not too far from reaching the surface.
Your pulse quickens. You reach up, brushing away his hair. He closes his eyes and his shoulders relax, similar to a dog being petted as he bows his head into your hand.
If this is to be the last you see him, you think, clenching around his cock. Zagreus groans, encouraging you to do it again, tighter. You’ll make this count. Make it so that he’ll never forget this night, even after he’s long escaped to the Surface. Escaped far from Tartarus. Far from you.
“Cum inside.”
He inhales sharply and doubles over, his sweat-streaked forehead pressing against your back. He didn’t think he could get any harder.
His cock twitches inside you. “Damn it, (Your Name), don’t just say things like that.”
“Do it, please,” You beg, turning to press your cheek into the mattress, masking the solemn look in your eyes and a pained smile as your heart contracts achingly. “Please.”
His grasp on your hips twitch, hesitant, “I—is it really okay?”
You nod, “Yes, it’s safe—oooh—”
Vigor renewed, for over an hour, he fucks you in every position he can think of. Slamming into you from behind, grabbing a handful of your breasts; on your side with your leg over his shoulder, burying himself deep into your cunt; you on top, bouncing and grinding until his hands dig into your hips. He goes down the list, everything he dreamed of doing with you now suddenly coming to fruition. It’s overwhelming yet not enough as he finishes over and over again but never pulling out.
He’s lucky it takes a little longer for you to get there. Any mortal would’ve died from the overstimulation.
“Fuck, how many you got left in you?” You grunt as he pants through a dropped jaw. You’ve lost count after round five.
“Tell me to stop,” He sighs, breathing ragged. You’re back in missionary, your legs spread wide as cum dribbles out of your pussy and he swallows, his abs tense as he forces himself to hold back. Not yet, he reminds himself. Make this last just a little longer. Though the words spoken aloud don’t match. “Just say the word and I’ll go.”
You shake your head, your eyes darkening like a moonless night as you give him a drunken grin, “Please don’t.”
Blast— He snarls, licking his teeth as a carnal need overtakes him. He reaches around to cup your ass and pull you in, pounding against your cervix. Euphoric electricity shoots through your spine and down your legs, and you groan in unison. Every drag of his cock against your walls is mind-numbing. His thrusts are quick yet firm, like he’s trying to burrow deeper into you than he already is. Not like you could possibly take anymore of his godly cock.
His grip on your ass almost stings as he plows into you. You bite your lip, muffling your pleasured groans. The wet squelch of your cunt fills the room as Zagreus fucks his cum into you, staining your sheets. It leaks out of your pussy and drips around his dick. Each slam of his pelvis against yours has you quaking and shuddering, sending you careening towards an inevitable end you’re not quite ready for.
That is until Zagreus swipes his thumb across his tongue and reaches below, drawing circles over your clit, his hips unfaltering. His rhythm remains strong—steady—reaching your depths with every push and pull like the crashing over the river waves against the rocky shore. Your entire body tenses. You can’t recall a time you’d felt so overwhelmed, your nerve endings firing on all sides as he keeps pace, sending heat and electricity across your skin and through your bloodstream—oh gods. Your eyes rolls into the back of your head.
“Zagreus, I’m—” His name tumbles from your lips hoarsely. He takes the sign with grace, maintaining speed and ferocity, his broad shoulders tensing as your entire body bursts. Your hips tremble. You pulsate around him as you cum hard, arching and shuddering, mewling his name like a priestess in worship.
With you like a vice around him, Zagreus moans, his own climax overtaking as he quickens his pace, his rhythm stuttering. You feel when he finishes as his body jerks, and he pumps cum into you with particular and firm thrusts, pressing into your cervix as he fills you up once more, giving you every last drop he can, stuffing you to the brim as your cunt weeps, dribbling onto your bed.
When the tremors subside, he pulls away with a pained sigh, and you sag into the sheets, thinking Zagreus is done. Then fingers, callous and rough from countless battles, brush against your folds, and you whine, “Wha—”
“Hold on, my love,” He slurs. You’re too exhausted to even notice how he addressed you just then, his mismatched eyes finally clear. Now, scarlet and grass green irises stare down at you warmly, with heat and awe as he gathers the leaking cum and folds it back into your pussy. You moan, feeling his thick digits slip in with ease. Your cunt’s deliciously sore, but Zagreus pushes forward, pumping in and out, finger-fucking you, a mix of your cum and his sloshing inside you and filling the chamber with the sounds of your sopping pussy. Your hips buck forward as he circles his thumb over your clit, and you can’t hold back the yelp that escapes as Zagreus latches onto your nipple, suckling and nipping sweetly, steadily. Wet squelches echo in your ear, and you hear his labored breathing as he drinks in your expression.
You feel it again, the heat, the warm knot gathering below your stomach, at your core, faster and tighter than last time. He feels so good. Too good.
A tingling sensation builds along with it, foreign to whatever you’ve felt before alone nor with previous partners.
“Wait—” Your voice is garbled, and your tongue lolls out as you pant hard, unsure if you even want to wait. You’re already close to the edge, a mix of excitement and hesitation jumbling your thoughts, but you find yourself wanting to know where this feeling takes you. “Something—ah—f-feels—ngh—different—”
Something feels wrong but so right.
“It’s okay,” He grins up at you, flashing perfect, white canines as his eyes crinkle. His fingers move faster, thrusting harder and circling your clit firmly, and a cry escapes you. You can’t help as your legs tremble, unable to control as something unusually delicious within begins to spasm around his digits. “Cum all over me.”
Oh gods.
As if your body’s attuned to his voice, the knot within snaps and another in your gut releases in tandem. Zagreus groans as you shout, teetering over the edge, every nerve firing as you cum a second time. Your entire body trembles as an orgams so powerful and crushing overtakes you. Black stars dance at the corners of your vision. Your toes curl, and the room spins as Zagreus curses, wetness spreading through the sheets under you, causing his fingers to fly out of you with a gush of slick.
Twitching from the aftershocks of such a violent orgasm, your bleary eyes manage to find Zagreus's form. You catch your breathe, your gaze focusing on his forearm and chest, glistening and wet, a puddle of your liquid slowly seeping into the bed between you.
Blood and darkness, is this squirting? You thought it a myth written by humans.
Oh gods, you squirted.
And all over Zagreus it seems.
Your face burning, you’re unsure what to do, prepared to apologize, when Zagreus brings his hand up and licks his fingers, the back of his hand, capturing what’s left of your wetness before it dissolves. He’s entranced as he watches his hand, unbothered as you stare wide-eyed at the gesture.
Once he’s done, he meets your eyes, his mismatched gaze heated and boring straight into your core.
“Again.” His cock’s already hard.
Oh fuck—
---
TBC (Chap 7/8)
Chapter 6 <- ->Chapter 8 (coming soon)
Posted 10/26/25
AN: sorry it took forever for me to update ;P I really struggled writing this bc it's my first published smut and i wanted it to not be ASS. i really studied a bunch of smut and lemons trying to understand the flow and prose of smut writing, which is harder than ppl think :o
Im also on the ace-demisexual spectrum so i didn't have much personal experience to go off of (until recently ;D)
hope this wasn't a terrible smut scene and that yall got a good goon sesh out of it :P
thank you for sticking around!! i'll work on the final (?) chap in my spare time, tho the update may not be quick T_T
Listen man im like top tier gooner but like theres a fine line between liking goon material and straight up liking shit that requires you to be put in a padded room because i just searched up enji todoroki x reader yk lookin for some fire smut maybe some good age gap (not any type of cest) or secretary x boss TELL ME WHY IM SEEING NOT EVEN A STEPDAD!ENJI BUT A STRAIGHT UP DAD!ENJI OR PAPA!ENJI.
Listen man im like top tier gooner but like theres a fine line between liking goon material and straight up liking shit that requires you to be put in a padded room because i just searched up enji todoroki x reader yk lookin for some fire smut maybe some good age gap (not any type of cest) or secretary x boss TELL ME WHY IM SEEING NOT EVEN A STEPDAD!ENJI BUT A STRAIGHT UP DAD!ENJI OR PAPA!ENJI.
Listen man im like top tier gooner but like theres a fine line between liking goon material and straight up liking shit that requires you to be put in a padded room because i just searched up enji todoroki x reader yk lookin for some fire smut maybe some good age gap (not any type of cest) or secretary x boss TELL ME WHY IM SEEING NOT EVEN A STEPDAD!ENJI BUT A STRAIGHT UP DAD!ENJI OR PAPA!ENJI.
Listen man im like top tier gooner but like theres a fine line between liking goon material and straight up liking shit that requires you to be put in a padded room because i just searched up enji todoroki x reader yk lookin for some fire smut maybe some good age gap (not any type of cest) or secretary x boss TELL ME WHY IM SEEING NOT EVEN A STEPDAD!ENJI BUT A STRAIGHT UP DAD!ENJI OR PAPA!ENJI.
Listen man im like top tier gooner but like theres a fine line between liking goon material and straight up liking shit that requires you to be put in a padded room because i just searched up enji todoroki x reader yk lookin for some fire smut maybe some good age gap (not any type of cest) or secretary x boss TELL ME WHY IM SEEING NOT EVEN A STEPDAD!ENJI BUT A STRAIGHT UP DAD!ENJI OR PAPA!ENJI.
Listen man im like top tier gooner but like theres a fine line between liking goon material and straight up liking shit that requires you to be put in a padded room because i just searched up enji todoroki x reader yk lookin for some fire smut maybe some good age gap (not any type of cest) or secretary x boss TELL ME WHY IM SEEING NOT EVEN A STEPDAD!ENJI BUT A STRAIGHT UP DAD!ENJI OR PAPA!ENJI.
Listen man im like top tier gooner but like theres a fine line between liking goon material and straight up liking shit that requires you to be put in a padded room because i just searched up enji todoroki x reader yk lookin for some fire smut maybe some good age gap (not any type of cest) or secretary x boss TELL ME WHY IM SEEING NOT EVEN A STEPDAD!ENJI BUT A STRAIGHT UP DAD!ENJI OR PAPA!ENJI.
Writing about rap3, non-con or inc3st doesn't make you a versatile writer who's "not afraid to tackle sensitive topics" or whatever. It literally just makes you a massive weirdo.
There's a huge difference between writing about these things with actual context and tact, and writing a few-hundred-word one-shot about a character getting rap3d or two characters being inc3stu0us.
Give me a break
And what's worse is that some even weirder person will always try to justify it.I feel like most of you don't have real problems, or at least not enough of them, so you feel the need to make things up.
turnnoffyourmind
yousharknotpass
theartofmadeline
stormborns
