Note: they do it in this part, fair warning. NSFW, and silly to boot. Soul is totally the maiden sacrifice in this story and I am not sorry.


She snags five hours of sleep, documents seven loads of dead souls, breaks up a crowd in the Elysium Fields after Hermes takes it upon himself to distribute reward posters of her missing underwear collection, (attempts to drown Hermes in Styx), and daydreams about Soul's lips while stuck in an extended council meeting on Olympus.

Zeus catches her attention from across the triangular-shaped conference table, her left hand morphing into a likeness of Soul Evans while her face silently and intensely demands a progress report. Maka hides a smile behind her hand, pinned beneath Kim's pointed stare. Not wanting to disrupt the meeting (Gaia assures everyone she is perfectly fine, she feels refreshed after that little cold snap, even), she shrugs enigmatically at her sister.

Blair, having seen everything, leans over and whispers in Black Star's ear, who gleefully writes a note, folds it into a paper star, and flicks it at Zeus. Upon reading the contents of the note, Kim's face becomes deviously obscene. 'You made out!' she mouths from across the table.

Maka's cheeks burn. She studiously ignores the gossips, trying to pay attention to the council, but she can only think of Soul's mouth. She relives his lips opening to hers, his breath tangling in her lungs.

The moment the council is (finally) dismissed, it's purely an act of self-preservation when Maka folds between space, retreating to her office. As flustered and brain-fogged as she presently is, if she suffers through a Zeus-Interrogation, her face may explode.

However, her escape plans rarely succeed. One can only run so far from the ruler of the heavens. Loud footsteps echo in the stairwell, and Maka braces herself in her office chair, preparing to have her personal life completely invaded.

She's not expecting him to appear in her office, pendant swinging across his sun-bleached tunic. He's even taller than yesterday, face matured and smile fitting his jawline in a way that makes her immortal heart threaten to stop.

The smile is not a pleased one.

"Even I have my limits," he pants, catching his breath from running all the way from shore.

The gravel of his voice stalls her for several seconds, her mind reeling from the myriad of changes in him. He'd turned into a grown man overnight. "Soul, I… Wow-" Maka closes her eyes, trying to regain her composure. Opens them again. He's still there, a commanding presence with eyes like forgefire. "I wasn't expecting you?" she squeaks.

The smile evaporates, sweat running down his brow. Depositing a pair of age-worn slippers on her ebony desk, he says, "Well I was. For five years I waited. You did not see me once."

Maka risks a glance to the slippers and experiences a strange mix of mortification and giddiness. She attempts to straighten her hair, her desk, her blood pressure. Suddenly blindsided by the memory of his lips on hers, she stammers, "The, uh, time zones-"

"Five years," he repeats, blunt. "If you want a consort that isn't senile, you're gonna have to tell me. Soonish."

"Consort," she silently mouths, astonished. She can't think, watching as he leans on the edge of her desk, his calloused hands gripping the surface. Determination rolls off his body in palpable waves, a storm simmering under his clothing.

"Maka." There aren't many who would dare look at the keeper of Hades in the eye, and she can count on one hand how many of them are mortal. A strange, somewhat pleasant tingle wraps around her spine when he locks gazes with her. As if a mortal has any right to question the divine, he says, "Tell me truthfully: are you dating someone else?"

Her back presses tightly into her chair as Soul stalks around the corner of her desk, fluidly approaching her like a beast of prey. She takes a deep breath to calm her nerves but she breathes in his scent, instead; he's brought the mortal realm with him, all sun and fertile soil and wheat and sweat. Her thighs absently press together. "I kissed you only yesterday," she says thinly.

He's closing in. "Do you still want a partner for eternity?"

Dizzily, she nods. Her mouth goes dry, eyes following the line of his spine as Soul bows- slowly, deliberately- in a sensual tribute to her station. He's inches away, still leaning forward when he looks up at her in her office-chair throne. The fire in his eyes scorches her. "Maka, I have only ten minutes," he says, voice tangling her bones. "Do you?"

Unable to look away from his face, she blindly feels around her desk for her planner and sloppily closes it. "I… I can give you fifteen." Feeling his breath on her lips as he moves closer, she murmurs, "If we take the chariot, I can save you travel ti- mmph."

The chair squeaks when the force of his kiss presses her into it. She's so caught up in his urgency she wraps her arms around him and tugs him closer. His mouth peppers down her neck and back up again, hands slipping through the part in her cloak and burning her body through her robes.

Into her skin, he hoarsely says, "I couldn't escape you." She gasps at the feel of his teeth plucking her jaw, scraping down her throat to worry her collarbones. A hand teases up her thigh, nails dragging on her sensitive skin. "You were everywhere, in the wheat, the trees, the shadows- Maka, did you think of me at all?"

Caught in the chair, she can't touch him enough. She surges upright, forcing him to backpedal into her desk. "Yes," she hisses against his mouth, the blood in her veins warmer than it's been in centuries. She claws through the belt around his waist, banishing his clothing and baring all his skin to her until he's only wearing the pendant she'd given him. "I couldn't stop, I thought of you through the entire... council... meeting-"

Transfixed, Maka runs her hand across a long, gory story marring his chest. His heart thumps under her fingers, ribs expanding as he breathes. "It's old," he murmurs, bringing her closer. "Almost met you a long time ago."

The scar looks like death- she's the queen of the dead, she'd seen her share of mortal wounds. "Does it hurt?"

"No," he murmurs, kissing the edges of her face. "Touch it. Touch me. Please." Cautiously, Maka nestles between his legs, her stomach pressing against his naked body. Soul groans, hands roaming to her backside and bunching the fabric of her clothing as he strokes the base of her spine. "Please, Maka," he says again, his tongue pulling an earlobe into his mouth.

Trembling from his attentions, Maka banishes her cloak and scatters the clutter off her desk, her slippers forgotten. She pushes Soul back across the desk, hitching up her robes and climbing over him. "We'd have more time in your realm," she suggests even as rests on his hips.

He's hard under her, pressing urgently between her legs. "I've waited years for you, Goddess," he breathes, hands mapping her thighs. "Any longer and I'll go mad."

She palms his stomach, his chest, his scar, and she can't help but return his crooked grin. He's thoroughly enjoying the caress of the goddess to whom he has offered himself. His own touches are bold and intense as she grinds over him, but there's a nervous impatience thrumming under his skin, and he twitches anxiously as her pussy glides against him.

Maka leans forward, mashing their bodies together and burying her nose into the crook of his neck. He smells of worlds far away, nearly exotic compared to the damp of the underworld. Soul moves her hair away from the side of her face, tangling his fingers in it and gently urging her to press her lips more firmly into his neck. She sucks his skin between her teeth and his hips cant beneath her, his cock slipping between her folds and prodding her entrance.

Sitting upright once more, she eases over him, taking the length of him into her body. Soul shifts, tilting against her and closing his eyes, lips silently mouthing her name. His hands burrow under her robes, finding the soaked place where they're joined. He spreads her flesh wider with his thumbs, stroking her folds as she begins to rock against him.

It's agony and bliss to have him fill her nearly to bursting, to be stretched wide by his flesh, to have his warm, breathing body pinned beneath her. The glow of Hades reflects in the sweat of his skin. She moans, stirring herself up with his cock and eagerly watching him roll into her hips as he sighs a mantra of, "Ah, god, Maka, urgh-"

The desk shakes as he bucks under her, its inner contents rattling as he pulls her forward to clutch her tightly. She doesn't let up her pace and draws out his pleasure until he's taut and straining with it. Breath ragged in her ear, he says things that aren't words but are simple enough to understand- promises of devotion; pleas for mercy. Soul spills inside her, his seed overflowing. Maka moves slowly over him, savoring the heat pulsing feverishly in her body.

Only when he's a mess, his fingers frantically digging into her skin as he writhes, does she stop. Maka's chest heaves against his, not remembering the last time she'd felt this out of breath. Soul's hands skitter down her back. "You weren't pleased," he rasps.

She shakes her head, smiling. "I am very pleased."

"You know what I mean. Let me finish you, Maka. Teach me."

Despite her fatigue, his words make her quake. The promise in his eyes make her quake, too. She feels wild and girlish from that sly, vulpine smile. "We're out of time," she says, planting a kiss on his lips in regret. "We must get you back home before your brother gets anxious."

Soul groans, and it's not at all in pleasure. The back of his head thunks unhappily on the desk.

This is when Kim thunderclaps into her office. She spies them tangled and fifty percent naked on Maka's desk and announces, "OH. Oh HEY, alright, good deal! OKAY BYE!" before bolting right back out again.

Frozen in place with cosmic amounts of embarrassment, Maka curses on the six rivers of Hades.

"...Despite all that, I'm still hard. Huh."