Greek mythology: Fanfiction: The Penthouse
Title: The Penthouse
Fandom: Greek mythology
Rating: Explicit
Length:
Characters: Hades, Persephone
Pairings: Hades/Persephone
Content notes: Uncle/niece incest, sex work
Author's notes: I am not a sex worker, so I apologize if this story is wildly misinformed!
Summary: Persephone gets called to do a job over Valentine's Day weekend.

Persephone walks into the hotel around 9pm, wearing a designer trench coat that she found at a second-hand store in a rich neighborhood. The company she works for says that her client will be in the penthouse suite. They also let it slip that he had paid her extra to show up alone and stay all night, which probably means she'll need to take off tomorrow to rest up.

Some days this job feels as grueling as any Olympic sport.

This hotel isn't as opulent as the others she's worked in, but it feels more cozy than the large conference halls downtown. She walks up to the front desk, smile false and bright.

"Hi, my partner and I booked the penthouse for the weekend," she says, reciting from the script she was given.

The front desk worker asks for her ID, barely glances at it, then hands the card back to her, along with the room key. "Happy Valentine's Day, ma'am. Enjoy your stay."

Heels clicking across the floor, she makes her way to the elevator, presses the button on the elevator for the 38th floor. She checks her hair and makeup in the dark screen of her phone. Brunette waves cascade down her shoulders, the smokey eye and red lip color will complement the black lace outfit she's wearing under the coat. The black bag she nicked from the lost and found at the arboretum where she works holds makeup on one side and extra clothes on the other. Persephone hopes this is an in and out, client, no pun intended. She already wants to change into jeans and go home.

The elevator bell dings, signaling that she's reached her stop. This client must be either old money rich or a nouveau riche tech bro. This suite is so fancy there's not even a number on the door. The hallway decor looks much different than the lobby. The fixtures are all matte black, with off-white accents.

Is this the penthouse or the Underworld? she thinks.

Persephone steels herself as she reaches the door. There's no telling what a client will be like, but she has the emergency number if anything goes horribly. With a deep breath, she holds her key up to the door. A soft click lets her know that the door is open and she steps in.

This room - the living room, she guesses - is mostly black, with accents of grey, white, and soft browns. A television that could rival a movie theater screen is mounted on the far wall, in front of a light gray sectional sofa. A love seat in a warm brown color is off to the left, in front of a lit fireplace, between the TV and the bar. There's a sophistication here that speaks of age, so it's likely that her client is older, someone who didn't want to be alone on Valentine's Day.

On the other side of the room is a dining table that could fit at least 10 people, separated from the kitchen by an island with another four chairs. A bark from the couches catches her attention.

The agency hadn't told Persephone to expect a dog. She steps back as Rottweiler comes into view. The dog walks over excitedly almost like he -

Persephone's breath catches. She knows this dog. Very few owners purchase solid gold collars with their pet's name engraved on them.

CERBERUS

"I thought about inviting you myself but I wasn't sure you'd come," Uncle Hades said, coming out from a hallway she hadn't seen yet. She swallows. The tension between her and Uncle Hades had been electric after she'd come home from her college. She'd seen him cast heated glances at her during the family barbecues.. but he'd only recently divorced Aunt Minthe. It wasn't right.

"How did you find out?" she says.

"Your father," Uncle Hades says, moving away from the He's a well established patron and saw your picture in one of their advertisements. I'm supposed to be talking you out of this lifestyle."

"He's absent for years and now he wants to tell me how to live?" she scoffs. "And besides, what's his alternative? Olympus is an expensive city. I make a month's pay at the arboretum in a weekend of doing this job. I'm sorry you wasted your money, but this is what I do now."

This argument is a distraction and they both know it. Persephone needs to get out of here before does something she'll regret. She turns back to the door, hand on the knob when her uncle says, "And what if I don't want you to go?"

"You paid and now you want to collect?" She wants to sound angry and yet, all she can hear in her own voice is… desperation and longing. Uncle Hades comes up behind her, turns her around to face him.

"I said it before, I had thought about inviting you myself," his teeth scrape along the side of her neck. "If you don't want this, tell me no. Push me away."

Her uncle's hands undo the buttons on her coat, spreading the lapels wide, exposing her black lace bra & high-waisted panties.

Persephone does no such thing.

They don't make it to the bed, the first time. With a snap of his fingers, Hades sends Cerberus out of the living room and down the hallway. He picks up Persephone by the backs of her thighs, carrying her from the door to the kitchen island. She expects the marble countertops to be cold against her skin, and yet, they feel close to her body temperature.

Persephone launches herself at Hades, their lips meeting while she fumbles with the buttons on his shirt. He bats her hand away, with the same dismissive air he used on the dog.

“This is about you,” he says, giving her a hard stare.

“That’s not - ” she chokes out, just as he unclamps the strap on her bra. “That’s not how this works.”

Hades tugs on the convertible strap on her bra, ripping where the hooks connect to the straps. The lace falls down, exposing her breasts.

“It works the way I want it to. And tonight I’ll make you come so many times that you’ll never want another man; I’m going to take pains with you.”

Hades leans her back against the counter with one hand, then slides off her panties with the other. The hand resting on her back comes around to scratch lightly against her stomach. It’s not until she feels his cheek against her thighs that she realizes what he’s about to do.

Most of her clients don’t like this. Persephone had gotten used to not even expecting it. Now, with his hands molding her into his plaything, his lips ghosting over her clit, she can’t think of this as a job anymore. Her head falls back against the counter as she moans, “Oh, fuck, please.”

“That’s my girl,” he whispers. And then it’s over. He licks her in a way that can only be called teasing, making her muscles tighten in anticipation. Her legs spread wider, seemingly of their own volition and she thrusts up into his mouth. Then it’s all a mess of sensations that make her scratch feebly at the counters, makes noises keep spilling out of her.

Just when she thinks that she can’t take any more, Hades reaches under her again, throws her right leg over his shoulder, and slides his cock into her. Normally, this is when she’d force them to wear protection, but she’s too blissed out to care. Hades moves in and out of her slowly, each roll of his hips deep and deliberate. Persephone leans up on her forearms so that she can see him. He’s hunched over her, eyes looking at her like she’s something to devour and also something to savor.

No one’s ever looked at her like this.

He steps closer, pressing himself further into her, the angle hitting exactly where she wants it. Persephone lets out a low whine, feeling the sensation through her whole body. Hades keeps her on edge; he pulls her close, kisses her softly why his hips speed up, strokes becoming faster, more erratic. He comes inside her, claiming her in a way that she’s never let anyone. Persephone holds onto his back and shakes, her orgasm taking her completely.

He carries her again, this time over to the rug by the fireplace. She thinks he’s going to lift her off of him until he lets go of her hips and she sinks back down onto his cock. Persephone’s eyes fly open.

“Didn’t I say I would take pains with you?” he says, a mischievous smile on his face.

“Hades, I can’t, please,” she nearly cries. She’s swollen and sensitive and can barely keep her eyes open.

“I think you have one more in you, little girl,” he growls.

Turns out, he’s right. With her hands on his shoulders to anchor her, Persephone rides him, fast and hard, nearly toppling them both over. The last thing she remembers is the sound of his voice, low and dark before she falls asleep.