WHO: Much, Mary, Lust WHEN: Sunday/Monday WHERE: Various locations WHAT: 'Sometimes, when people make me cross, I have to break their toys' WARNINGS: Certainly nothing IFFY in here, sex-wise (that's a lie, it's iffy AF)
Much liked it when he got to make Mary breakfast. Part of it was the simple pleasure of seeing someone eat his food, but part of it was happiness that she’d stayed all night. She didn’t always. Like that first night when he’d woken up and found her next door in the church, she seemed to be a restless sleeper, and there’d been times when he’d gone to sleep beside her and woken up alone. He didn’t begrudge her needing to leave, but it did mean the times she stayed for breakfast were extra good. This morning he’d made waffles, with ice cream, because it was hot outside already. And then they’d gotten distracted in the shower afterwards so it wasn’t really morning at all by the time Mary left.
He walked her to the subway station, spring in his step, wondering if he could ask her now if he could see her again tonight, or if that would be too much. Too soon? Too fast? Where was the line between a booty call and something else? He's been thinking about it more lately, but he kinda got the feeling that Mary might bolt if he asked, so maybe it was better if he held his tongue and messaged her in a couple of days.
He nearly changed his mind while he was kissing her goodbye though. The way she kissed him back made him think she’d be totally keen for hooking up again after work, but then her train was arriving and they were still kissing and she had to break away and run down the stairs toward it, so there wasn’t exactly time to ask.
Well, she’d definitely made his morning, anyway. Much smiled to himself as he turned away from the entrance to the subway and started the walk toward the Parsonage, where he’d promised to hang out for a bit, chuck some laundry on and do some dishes and look at the tiny new addition to their lives.
But walking, well, walking gave his mind time to drift and curiously it drifted back to Marcie, and their moment at the airport. It wasn't even a kiss, just a bump of faces, easily laughed off, and there shouldn't have been any reason to keep thinking about it.
Except he did wonder what it would have been like to kiss her properly. To close his eyes and lean into her, explore that feeling that had pushed its way to the surface the other day, when he'd made her laugh and thought oh, oh this is nice.
But Marian was right. Marcie was still grieving, for fucks safe. This wasn't the time for thoughts about kissing. This definitely wasn't the time to replay the memory of their deathbed kiss either, and the absolute mess of emotions tangled up in it.
None of that! Much thought, and gave his imagination a kick in the pants, and carried on down to the Parsonage.
Lust had been keeping an eye on Mary since their little run-in at the bar and she wished she could have seen the ways Mary must have debased herself after Lust’s touch. She’d made it be a temporary thing, not yet interested in pushing that hard: for now she was just watching, always keeping her distance but seeing what the Christ whore got up to with her dull little life.
It seemed that what she was up to now was kissing and laughing with some guy at the entrance to the subway. Mary looked genuinely happy in his company, as though Lust had never even laid a hand on her.
Well. Lust couldn’t have that, could she? Not after Mary had been so rude to her.
When the two of them parted, the man started walking in Lust’s direction and it didn’t take long before she felt that he was immortal as well. That fitted, as Mary had said something about how she didn’t like to date baby mortals. But what was so special about this one? Or was she just so desperate that any immortal would do? Lust remembered that she’d been fucking that Mexican god with the ridiculous unpronoucable name, and he clearly hated every single Christian on the planet.
Maybe that’s why Mary had gotten with him, then. Maybe he’d told her how worthless she was while he fucked her, and Mary had not only allowed it but reveled in it. God, that was such a hot thought, Mary spat upon and used and mistreated. Gorgeous.
But what was the deal with this new one? Another god that hated their pantheon? Really there was only one way to find out exactly what the deal was here.
Lust sat down on the low brick wall at the edge of the sidewalk and when he got near to passing she lifted one long leg to block his way. “Ding ding,” she said with a playful smile. “You have to pay the toll.”
There were others walking past them- one woman pointedly walked around the area of the path Lust was suddenly blocking - but they were the only two immortals to be felt.
Much’s ability to pick up on other immortals was pretty limited, unless they were one of his lot, or staring him right in the face. Or, in this case, swinging their perfectly curved leg out to block his path... His eyes trailed up the curve of her calf and her thigh to her waist and over her front, taking the scenic route to her face, which was as attractive as the rest of her.
Wow.
And that playful smile.
Also wow.
She shooed all other thoughts from his head, and Much gave a short little exhale, pulling himself together before giving her a grin in return. “Do I?” he asked, playing along with whatever her game was. “What happens if I limbo under it, free pass?”
Lust gave an exaggerated shrug with one shoulder, smiling at him like she was the sweetest springtime maiden he’d ever been lucky enough to meet. “I suppose so,” she agreed, raising her hands a little in surrender. “I couldn’t stop you.”
In the back of his mind he thought there was something about her - had they met? Or was she just so pretty that he wished they had? He bit his lip through his grin, and didn’t try to duck under her leg. “Weeell I could. But see - I wouldn’t want to cheat you out of a fair wage when here you are just trying to make an honest living. So, what’s the toll, then?”
Lust lowered her leg, slowly and with great control, never once taking her eyes off him.
“Your name,” she said.
Christ, the way she moved her leg was something to watch, only he couldn’t, because the moment he noticed her eyes were locked on his he couldn’t look away. His name? What an easy price to pay. Much leaned his elbows on top of the stone wall just at her side, keeping out of the way of the other people trying to pass, body angled toward her. “I’m Much,” he said, smiling up at her. “Do I get to know yours?”
Much. That was a very strange name, but this wasn’t the first time she’d heard it. It was strange enough that she felt safe making a small leap to assuming he was the same Much she’d talked to online. She’d told him people called her Too Much, and he’d soon stopped talking to her after realising that she was a Sin.
She held out a hand to shake his, very proper as well as good for establishing physical contact. “I’m Belinda.”
“Belinda,” he echoed, quite taken with the softness of her hand, and the way her name felt on his tongue. Such an old fashioned name - no, not old fashioned - classically beautiful. “Gorgeous name,” he said, leaning against her wall. There was no great rush to get to the Parsonage, after all, what harm in a little flirting with someone interesting? “But you know, you just gave the toll fare right back to me. Terrible way to run a business. You should ask for more.”
“And here I thought I had such a head for business,” Lust demurred, her smile still playful. Lust was actually fantastic at business, and very good at reading people and manipulating them. And, looking at this one, she knew it would be no different.
God yes. “A fair price,” Much grinned as he nodded, feeling very flirted with and very eager for it to continue. Was this a bit much? Chatting up someone else after walking Mary to the subway? It did feel like a bit much but also, it felt like fun, and Much liked new people, and also fun. And the other option was walking away from someone this gorgeous? He had time to spend, why wouldn’t he spend it getting a drink with a new friend?
He offered her his hand again, this time to help her off the wall. And certainly not as an excuse to touch her again. Christ! He needed to rein it in a bit, he wasn’t usually this shallow.
Lust took Much’s hand and let him help her up, smoothing down her skirt once she was standing. The powder pink should perhaps not have worked with her complexion: the vibrant loose red hair, the pink undertones to her pale skin dotted with light freckles. But, of course, it did work. Once Lust put on anything, it always worked, she always looked good. That was the whole point of this physical form.
“There’s a wine bar nearby,” Lust suggested. “I’ve been sitting here waiting all morning for the exact right person to come by so I could buy them a drink, and I think it might be you.” She paused then and laughed, bright and easy. “That was too cheesy of a pick up line, wasn’t it?”
“One thing you should know about me,” Much said, enjoying her laugh immensely, as the smell of her hair went straight to his head. Well, not just his head. “Is that I’m a huge sucker for cheesy, and I thought that was adorable.”
“Lucky me then,” Lust laughed, as her cheeks reddened with a blush. It was a trick she could pull out of the bag on command and had never even once in her life managed to do without meaning it. What on earth (or below it) could ever cause a Sin to blush? But that pink rush of blood to the face was always a thing that helped disarm the doubts of others, and to make her appear more innocent.
She gestured towards the south sidewalk. “Shall we?”
So few of the women in Much's life were blushers; they tended toward bold and feisty, so this colour in her cheeks instantly set her apart, and at such a simple compliment - did she not get called adorable all the time? What was wrong with people?
"I'd try a cheesy pickup lines on you," he said considering. "But I can't think of what it would Brie."
Oh Lord, was this the sort of thing he was into? Were puns this guy’s deal?
Lust smiled at him brightly. “You seem like the kind of guy who doesn’t need pick-up lines,” she said as they began to walk towards the bar. “There’s something... interesting about you.”
“I try and keep things from getting boring,” Much said, smiling back at her. “Always looking for new things to do, new people to do them with.” Which was generally true - though it felt like he hadn't made any new friends in a while. Things had been rough, he admitted, like all he could manage was trying to keep his head above water, as disaster after disaster occurred.
But, the Sheriff was in angelic captivity now. Marcie was safely out of the city. Addy's baby had been born alive and getting stronger every day. Maybe the tide was starting to turn in their favour.
“I’m always looking for new people and new experiences too,” Lust said, and that part was, at least, completely genuine. Lust was always seeking something new to fill the giant chasms of boredom in her life, so why not make it tormenting this little Mary-lover for now? “Life can sometimes get so repetitive if you let it.”
Much thought of their endless cycle with the Sheriff and Guy and Prince John, and on that hand, she had a point, And on the other, there was always something new. And not just new kinds of torment, but new kinds of all the good stuff too. And right now, he felt too alive to focus on the bad. “Life can, sometimes, but the world is so full of possibilities, now. Way, way more than we used to have. You know the first time I ever went skydiving, it completely blew my mind. Back in the day - like, in the Middle Ages - the highest I ever got was a tree, and sure there were some pretty big trees out there, but then the world moved on and there were planes to jump out of, and for a while as I was falling it was like whoa, the world’s never going to be the same again. You know?”
How relentlessly and incredibly positive and hopeful this Much was. Lust was definitely going to crack him like an egg and watch that good drain right out.
“I know exactly,” Lust agreed, nodding quickly. “I’ve been skydiving and the whole world below was so small, and so far away right up until it wasn’t.” She didn’t share the part where it had been tandem skydiving and halfway down she’d cut the parachute off the instructor’s back so they both plummeted to the earth together, him screaming the whole way down as she held him tight. “Something like that really changes your perspective.”
“Okay - so I know you said you knew a wine bar,” Much said, encouraged by the speed of her nod, and feeling injected with energy. “But we should go to one of those bars right at the top of some skyscraper. Drink something a bit ridiculous up there in the sky, what do you think?”
Those kinds of bars were always so terribly expensive, for Much who was used to the Fox, used to staff discounts at Diogenes, but right now he wanted to drink high above the city with Belinda, like they were about to fly, and it wasn’t like one drink was going to break the bank or anything.
Lust considered for a moment a place that would fit the brief. She knew a lot of the high class bars in the city and there was one jumping to the forefront that would fit Much’s desires. And Lust always did love to fit someone’s desires.
She smiled at him, a little devious, and said, “I know the perfect place.” Then she turned to look at the street beside them and stepped out onto the edge and raised her hand to hail a coming taxi. There had never been a taxi in the city that hadn’t stopped for Lust.
When it pulled over she looked back at Much. “Let’s go have an adventure.”
“Oh yes,” Much said, not even trying to hide his enthusiasm. There was something very alluring about sliding into the back of a taxi with a stranger with a devious, stunning smile. Maybe he should message Tuck, and say he was going to be a little late, but he didn’t want to split his attention between his phone and his new friend. Maybe he wouldn’t be late at all, maybe they’d have their drink and she’d come back to the church with him and they could bake something together, laugh together, maybe she’d offer a taste of the mixture and he’d wrap his hand around her wrist and suck it off her finger -
“Tell me what other adventures you like to have,” Much asked, his body angled toward her as he tried to get his mind off sucking her fingers. He’d only just met her. He wasn’t Scarlet, he shouldn’t fantasise about sucking someone’s fingers when he’d only just met her.
Unless she was into that too.
In the back of the taxi she spotted the look in his eye for a moment - the look told Lust he’d gone somewhere else, somewhere where Lust was probably naked. Some people hid the look so well, but it was in her nature to always see it.
This wasn’t some priest she needed to play extra demure with, and so she didn’t amp up the innocent act to the heights she might usually.
She watched him, letting her eyes drop to his lips for a second, before saying, “I’m trying to think of some acceptable adventures that are G-rated.” Lust ran her finger over the leather of the seat between them, not quite touching his leg but only barely.
Much could feel her gaze on his lips, almost as if she’d reached out to touch him, and without any conscious thought he dragged his own teeth over his bottom lip, then (quite consciously) swallowed to keep his act together. Or to try to. But why was he trying? Take the world as it comes, right? Roll with the wild ride life hands you! “I can handle a higher rating, you know,” he said, with a devious smile of his own. “Try me.”
Lust bit her lip - both to draw his eye to her lips and to mirror his action - and then said, in an undertone, “maybe not the subject for a backseat of a cab. Although,” Lust added, “I’ve had a few adventures there too.” Then she winked at him.
Much laughed, and could feel it between his legs. Goddamn. “A bit naughty, hey Belinda?” he asked, reeling it back for the sake of the cab driver and, like, propriety. “Alright - so what do you do with your life, when you’re not… having adventures.”
“A bit, yeah,” Lust agreed with a slow and suggestive smile. It was somewhat cute to be referred to as ‘a bit naughty’, Lust liked it.
The taxi stopped and Lust leaned forward to pay the driver, her thigh brushing against Much as she did so. Then she looked at Much and told him, “I own a lingerie company,” before climbing out of the backseat and out onto the sidewalk.
“You own a company?” Much echoed, surprised, since there weren’t many folk he knew that did that, since people who owned companies didn’t tend to gel with the Merry Men. But - his mind was quick to remind him there were so many little local companies who looked after their employees and used sustainable sources of cotton and… satin and… lace and…
There was no way she looked like some greedy CEO, therefore, she wasn’t one, was she?
“That’s so cool. Lingerie. Everyone needs lingerie.”
“It’s just a small company,” Lust added, “but it’s mine and so I love it. I just like for women to feel sexy and powerful.”
She moved towards the glass door to their left and said, “the top of this building has an amazing bar.” Reaching out behind her, Lust took Much’s hand and pulled him towards the elevator, entwining her fingers with his.
“I like that too,” Much said, pretty thoroughly distracted from thoughts of corporate greed by her reassurance it was small and also, by her hand. “Sexy and powerful women are - yes.”
Glass elevators were also yes. As the doors opened Much kept hold of her hand and pulled her toward the back, facing out over the city as they rose above it. That was a pretty huge distraction, too. Somedays the enormity of this city and all the people contained within it filled his little Sherwood heart with awe. “Y’know I wish I could sometimes go back in time and tell the Much who used to delight in climbing trees that he’d get to see this, one day,” he said, turning to Belinda and smiling.
If Much thought he was into sexy and powerful things that looked like women, then he was going to simply adore Lust. She’d have to put up with his pathetic conversations until then, but if this got under Mary’s skin then it would be all worth it. And besides, he seemed like a good man, and that was a thing worth breaking all on its own.
She turned to Much and matched his smile. “And how much more will change in the blink of an eye.”
“So much, I bet,” Much said, her smile dazzling. “God, Belinda, where did you come from?” he asked, just as the elevator dinged to announce they’d reached the top.
From your most blissful nightmares, would have been such a wonderful answer, but Lust wasn’t ready to give it yet. He’d learn soon enough. She looked him in the eye and drew their clasped hands up between them so she could so softly and briefly kiss his knuckles. And then she released him with a smile to slip past out of the elevator, knowing that he would be following.
At the bar she smiled sweetly at the bartender and said, “two strawberry mojitos,” before turning side on to look at Much as he joined her. “Hope you don’t mind me deciding for you.”
“Not one bit,” said Much, perfectly happy about bossy (sexy, powerful) women and strawberry mojitos. “So long as I get to pick where we sit, over here?” he asked, spotting a very promising spot, failing even to finish deciding without checking in to make sure she didn’t have other plans. Hey, she knew this place better than he did, she might know the perfect spot, and Much had utterly no problem with letting her lead him there.
“Perfect,” Lust agreed with that warm smile once again, making her way over to the table to wait for their drinks. They were high up, but leaning towards the tall glass fences they could see the cars and people below. “A heavenly view of the city.”
Then she turned her attention fully to her mark. “So I run my little company, what do you do, Much?”
Heavenly views alright, Much thought, but not about the city. “Lots of stuff, really. My friend Tuck owns a church and I’m there helping out a lot, they have this soup kitchen thing going and I am epic at making bulk soup taste incredible. And most afternoons and evenings I bartend at a palace called Diogenes, do you know it?”
His friend owned a church where Much helped out- that was just too perfect. There were few things that Lust loved as much as fucking with the faithful, and this one had fallen right into her lap. She wondered how he justified that faith with fucking Saint Mary Magdalene, but she unfortunately couldn’t ask. Not until she laid out her cards.
“I know Diogenes,” she nodded. “Haven’t been there for a good while, but I know it.”
The bartender brought over their strawberry mojitos and Lust reached into the top of hers to fish out a slice of strawberry and put it in her mouth, her pink lips lingering against her fingers as she watched him.
“You should come… by,” he said, her fingers hooking his attention part way through his sentence as surely as if she’d slid a hand up his leg. He coughed lightly and took a sip of his own drink, the ice cold fruitiness of it refreshing, but not enough to make him stop thinking about her lips. “I'll make you a mojito, however you like it.”
“You promise?” Lust asked, lifting her glass to her lips to take a sip. “What kind would you make me?” She put her drink down before running a hand through her hair to flick it back over her shoulder. “If I asked you to guess how I like it?”
Fuck. Did she like being pressed up into the corner of a booth and kissed? Much was sorely tempted. “Something daring,” Much said, leaning forward on his elbow. “Lemon lime, maybe some ginger simple syrup. Something out of the ordinary, for you.”
Lust leaned in with a smile, matching his pose, “I like the sound of that. I’m sure I’d love to taste whatever you made for me.”
“I have to work tonight,” he said, feeling a little breathless at her attention. “You could come by. You should.” Was this how Alan felt, falling hard and fast for someone? It hadn’t happened to Much in what felt like forever. He was so much better at friends-first, but Belinda… she was something special.
“Then I will,” Lust smiled at him brightly, straightening up in her seat with a nod. “If you want me to, then I’ll be there.”
Oh fuck yes he wanted her. Much beamed at her, feeling like the smile reached his whole body, feeling like he was glowing with it. As she straightened up, so did he, leaning back into his seat to take in the wondrous view with his drink in hand. “Today is awesome,” he declared.
While they chatted, Lust ordered them two more rounds of mojitos and talked to Much about imaginary good deeds she did for the poor, and about adventurous swimming with jellyfish, and singeing all her hair in front of an active volcano, and almost getting arrested for snowboarding naked. (The only untrue one had been the giving to the poor.)
The image she was trying to build was Adventurous Good Girl, and her natural allure stopped too many doubts from Much, just like it did to everyone else.
How one drink had become three, Much had no idea. Time around her just vanished, and yet it felt like they’d been talking for hours, and then time had slowed right down when he lifted his hand to touch her hair - no longer singed - in the middle of her volcano story. Her hair slid through his fingers like satin, and made him want to bury his hand in it completely, and pull her in for a kiss, but she was still talking, and Much was loving listening to her.
He had to text the others - somewhere between mojito two and three - and let them know he wasn’t going to make it down to the parsonage before work today, that he was out being a friend-making machine and he’d tell them all about it later.
“I’m going to have to leave for work soon,” he said sadly, as he finished up one of his favourite stories from the old days, throwing flour in Rob’s face before fighting him. “As much as I wanna just, stay up here till they kick us out. Talking to you is amazing,” he said, running his fingers up her arm, the touch encouraged heavily by the three strong mojitos. His knee, too, was pressed against hers, and had been for some time. Her skin was so soft, his mouth wanted to follow his fingers path up her arm. Her knee pressed back against his and he couldn't help but think about sinking to his knees in front of her, run his tongue over the skin hidden by her skirt.
Lust looked at her watch and said, with fake surprise, “oh wow, I didn’t realise how long I’d kept you!” She raised her eyes and smiled at him. “Time really flies, huh?” She reached out and took his hand in hers - the one that wasn’t stroking her arm - and ran her thumb across the back of it. “I’ll see you tonight though. I can’t promise I’ll be so well behaved,” she said, biting her lip suggestively.
It wasn’t just how interesting and gorgeous she was that was drawing him in, it was how clearly she was into him, too. He curled his fingers around the back of her elbow, eyes on that bitten lip. “You don’t have to behave,” he assured her, leaning closer toward her mouth. “Outlaw, remember? I like misbehaving.” He closed the small distance and kissed her for the first time, and her lips were as soft and as strawberry flavoured and even more intoxicating than he’d spent the last long hours imagining. Maybe he should call in sick, he didn’t want this to end.
Lust drew a surprised and delighted breath against the kiss that hadn’t at all surprised her and only delighted her for what it meant. She leaned forward across the table and let her tongue find his, almost feeling the glowing tendrils of herself slipping inside of him.
While some of her siblings had occasional pangs of something that could almost be conscience - Wrath was absolutely riddled with them - Lust had no such petty emotions. Lust, above all else, knew what she was: Lust was an apex predator. She was the giant squid that wrapped its tentacles around a ship, cracking beams and boards, dragging helpless sailors to the depths. She was the tiger that waited, sun-dappled and hungry and beautiful, in the canopy above jungle travelers. She was the alligator that clamped its jaws shut and death-rolled until there was nothing left but meat for her enjoyment. Lust was nothing more than desire incarnate seeking a thing to be desired and consumed.
But she knew how to smile like a girl, and she knew how to kiss like a girl, and that was enough of a mask for any poor fool.
She was the one who broke the kiss, because she doubted Much would ever find the ability to do it. “Turns out I like outlaws,” she told him.
Much nearly fell into her when she pulled back, her gravitational pull was too strong to ignore. He wanted to keep falling, to climb on top of her, slide his hand under her dress and make her arch her back in pleasure, to kiss her throat, seek out the tender bumps of her nipples through the fabric that hid her breasts away. He wanted to slide his fingers between her legs and see if she was as wet as he imagined. He wanted - god, he wanted.
How was he supposed to leave her? How was he supposed to go to work for hours and hours and hours, waiting for it to be over so he could meet up with her again? Much tried to think of something - went so far as debating faking another emergency - but it was so close to his starting time now, he couldn’t call in, it wouldn’t be fair on the others (especially Lars, who kept stepping up to cover Much's genuine emergencies) and Much believed too strongly in fairness, so he forced himself to move.
He pulled her back toward him in the glass elevator, though, holding her body close to his, sliding his hand into her smooth hair, and kissing her, slow and deep and sensuous, as they descended all the way back down to earth.
“I’ll see you soon,” he murmured, on parting, finding it difficult to let her go. “You can tell me about all the adventures you will have had while I was working, and then I’ll kiss you again when you taste like lemon and lime.”
She smiled at him like the enamoured girl she was pretending to be and said, “I better go find some adventures to have.” She ran her thumb slowly across his lips with a smile. “Until then, Much.”
It might have been for the best that work was busy tonight, that Much didn't have screeds of time to think about elaborate fantasies with Belinda. Although his brain still managed, drifting off into thoughts of her while he blended and shook and did rounds for the empties. Any spare moment! He was itching to take his break, and when he finally did he googled her, trying to get a hint on who she was, reading about famous Belindas, failing completely to find any.
It didn't worry him, aliases were aliases after all, and his mind was set on trusting her. There wasn't any room for suspicion between the thought of kissing her in the lift, and promises to misbehave, and her voice when she said she liked outlaws. Why would he feel such a strong connection if it didn’t mean something?
It wasn't a long break - they were too busy, and even still too busy for him to linger and chat with her when she came in, though he did swap sides of the bar with Lars so he could be the one to make her his mojito. "If you like it, I'm calling it the Belinda," he said, struggling to drag his eyes away from her as another customer called for attention. He didn't get to properly speak with her till after they were closed, and he could duck under the bar while Lars did the register, take her hand, and lead her out into the night.
The moment that Much had seen her in the bar, Lust had watched the way he practically fell over himself, and it brought her a certain amount of pleasure. She wished she could say that it thrilled her, but it was so hard to find thrills in this world, and Much was unlikely to turn into one of them.
But he would, at least, be entertainment.
In the backseat of a taxi she explained that her apartment building was being fumigated and she was staying in a hotel room. She couldn’t exactly take this rob-from-the-rich type back to her palatial and disgustingly expensive apartment overlooking Central Park, not while she was still being just sweet lil Belinda.
They made out on the way to the hotel, Lust continuing to stop and slow it down when he got too handsy. It wasn’t for the benefit of the driver or for her own morals, but more that she wanted to keep him revved up in a constant state of needing more.
Back at the hotel - it had pained Lust to book something so basic - she dragged him into the room and kicked the door shut behind them, wrapping her arms around Much to kiss him deeper, to pull him against her body.
Oh thank god they were alone now. With every bit of his pent up desire Much kissed her, thrilled by the way she’d kicked the door, by her arms pulling him close, by how utterly irresistible she was. The taxi ride had been a torment, his hands felt like they were burning to get under her skirt, and every time he ran his hands up the bare skin of her leg she’d stopped him and yeah - yeah it was good that she did, but goddamn it filled his head with fantasies of fingering her in the back of the car, his mouth pressed against hers to catch her cries of pleasure.
But now there was no taxi driver to watch them, or stop them, and Much slid both his hands into her hair, walking her backwards toward a wall so he could kiss her against it, his body pushed hard, and growing harder, up against hers. He rarely felt so overcome that he didn’t want to talk through it, but Belinda? His mouth had other things to do when it came to Belinda, and his hands… they still craved the touch of her bare legs, and with a lusty sound of want he picked her up so her legs could wrap around him, and his hands could slide up those god-fucking-damn smooth thighs to her arse.
Lust liked to think of herself as a very focused monster. She aimed, she schemed, she set the course. But even Lust was not fully immune to her own nature and there was something distracting when it all became this desperate with need. Her own desires got a little mixed up with those of her prey, which did sell the whole thing better, but it meant she had to really draw her focus back if she was interested in anything more than just sex.
And tonight she was. Tonight there was something more that needed to be done here before she let those fingers go further, before she let him fuck her right against this wall. She’d been considering all day the best way to play this, trying to decide which method would best work on this man that she’d been needling for information about himself. He’d given that information all so freely and it had helped her build a picture of who he was, of what his goals were, and - more importantly - what his desires were.
Not the desires he was displaying right now, his hand groping her arse, but the other deeper desires: What did he want in this life? Who did he wish to be? How did he see himself and what was required to be true to that?
And so she had something of an idea. It was, perhaps, risky, but if it didn’t play out she’d lost nothing but an afternoon.
She drew back from the kiss, breathless and with the very face of distraught indecision. “Wait,” she whispered, her tone suggesting the frustration of one who was making a decision against their own horny interest. “Stop. This isn’t- please, just give me a second.”
Much whined as he pulled himself back, but wait meant wait, no two ways about it, and he nodded and swallowed, and set her back down on her feet. "Okay," he schooled himself, followed by a breathy laugh at his own eagerness, a sign to show he was good, he could wait, he was listening, no pressure. "You're good, you're good, phew." Fuck, this was intense. His cock ached with need but he breathed and breathed so she could speak.
Lust ran her hands through her hair, making a show of collecting herself. She put her hand against Much’s chest - she wanted the connection to remain strong - and then said, “I have to tell you who I am, before we do this.”
Much slid his hand over hers, stroking it while he watched her, hips wanting to push forward again but holding back, because yes yes of course he wanted to know who she was, this dazzling woman he'd clicked so hard with, so fast. He'd listen to anything she wanted to say. "Okay, yes," he said, still breathing heavily. "Shoot."
She considered taking a step back from Much so that he couldn’t touch her anymore, but thought keeping the physical connection was a better idea.
“I’m from the Christians,” she told him, careful, slow, as though afraid of his reaction. “They call me Lust.”
The thing Much noticed first was the fear in her voice, before her words even filtered through, and his first instinct was to try and allay her fears - she didn't have to be afraid of his reaction. Of him. God no.
But - "Wait what?" He blinked in confusion as his ears caught up. He didn't move away, didn't take his hand off hers though he did pause stoking it. "Lust? The... Sin Lust?" That couldn't be right, though. She was… no, it couldn't be right.
“The Sin Lust,” she agreed with a small nod, watching his reaction to this, now truly curious to see what his thoughts would be here. “Belinda is my name, it’s what I go by.”
He blinked again, still trying to process when really, he just wanted to be kissing her, so bad. But - he remembered suddenly the things she had been saying to Mary on her journal, read the threats she’d made against Mary’s mortals, and beyond that, he’d met her sister, and Much still hated thinking about how doped up Sloth had made him feel, hated the memory of how angry everyone had been at him over it.
His brain wasn’t doing so well at finding a clever reason to back away. “Oh - uh - I should go…” he said, but it felt like he was betraying part of himself to say it.
Watching the cogs turn in his head, watching him consider who and what she was (and what he might know about that) Lust put on the beginnings of a hurt frown. “Why?” she asked, not yet drawing her hand away from his chest.
Because you’re a Sin! He thought, panicked, but didn't say it out loud. Why though? Why couldn't he just say it and get out? There was logic behind his panic, and evidence! And experience! But the hurt on her face - god, Much had to pretend he couldn't see that hurt. Much couldn't ignore someone's hurt, though (especially not a pretty girl, especially not someone he wanted to kiss so much). But he had to.
“I-I saw you talking to Mary,” he stuttered an explanation, the thought of Mary helping him focus. “You threatened one of her friends.”
You sneaky little shit, Lust thought, but had no interest in losing this game that easily. It was time to see how she would spin this. Instead of annoyance, she schooled her expression into surprise. “I’m not going to hurt her friends,” Lust said, as though it were the most obvious thing in the whole world, drawing her hand back from him and feigning offence. “God, you should hear some of the things she threatens me with. I’ve known her for thousands of years, which means we know exactly how to get under each other's skin.” She sighed. “I don’t really like Mary, I’ll admit that, but I wouldn’t hurt her.”
“But you said-” Much began, not quite sure what to do with his hand now that she’d released it. It should have been a relief, but he felt oddly bereft. He shoved it into his pocket, fingers wrapped around his thumb, trying to remember. What had she said, exactly? Bad things. He knew they’d been bad things. “You threatened to break that guy. I read that.” Saying it out loud helped to convince himself. He should go.
“It’s what she expects of me,” Lust said with a little bit of a pout, crossing her arms protectively. “God has given us all roles to play, and if Mary is going to be the hero, someone has to be the villain. I’m supposed to say threatening things and cape around dramatically so that she has a foil. That’s how this whole Heaven and Hell thing works.”
“Yeah,” said Much, agreeing with her as he pulled his hands out of his pocket, holding them up, palms facing her. He was doing it. He was going. “Maybe you’ve got your roles, but I don’t want anything to do with Hell, so, I am going to go now,” he told her, and stepped away. Maybe he should’ve said something stronger, firmly, but he didn’t want to piss her off (or hurt her) and he didn’t want to draw any attention from Hell, generally, or Lucifer, specifically. She was super hot, but that didn’t mean anything if there wasn’t any good underneath it. Best to nope on outta there now, as fast as he could.
“I’m not part of Hell,” Lust said firmly, picking righteous offence over anything else. “Mary likes to pretend I am, likes to think every strong human emotion is bad and wrong, but I take orders only from God.”
Much hesitated, somewhere between unsure and so, so curious. Not part of Hell? He wanted to believe that. Well… the insistent part of him that wanted to fuck her wanted to believe that. The part of him that said roll with it and fuck the consequences - imagine how good she tastes...
“No - what? What do you mean?” he asked, looking back at her. She sounded so sure, and her offence put him on the back foot, and… maybe he just wanted to figure out what she meant, first, before he left. I bet she tastes so, so good.
“God made both the virtues and the sins,” Lust explained, holding her hands out, palm up, as though to represent both groups. “He made each of us with a counterpart - Chastity is mine - to show that His universe and His beloved humans needed balance. But it got messy over time, and it’s hard sometimes to remember what I’m supposed to be.” She frowned at her hands as though thinking too deeply about this. “It’s hard to always stay true to the path God put me on, with so many cultural influences pushing me in worse directions. And now everyone thinks we Sins are evil and bad and sometimes-” She shrugged, not looking at him. “Sometimes it’s too easy to fall into that way of thinking.”
She was looking down, and Much’s eyes dropped down her body again, even as he tried to stop them doing that. He blinked tightly, and focused on trying to understand what she was saying. Sins were evil, though. He knew that. He'd always known that. So why was he even doubting it?? It was her frown, the way she dropped her eyes. It was… his heart telling him not to dismiss her so quickly. His heart? “Are you saying you don’t want to be evil and bad?”
“I’m not evil,” Lust said, sudden and defensive and hurt. (God, was this one more trouble than it was worth just to mess with Mary? But on the other hand… this was kinda fun on its own. Lust had always been into the play-acting.) “I’m just- sometimes my mouth runs away with me and I say cruel things that I don’t mean.”
“Ah - yeah my mouth can sometimes run away with me too,” Much admitted, still struggling to find some way to ease her hurt. “I think that happens to everyone, you say things without thinking and people get hurt and…”
And yet he’d still never threatened to break a mortal just to get under Mary’s skin, had he? They were both talking about very different levels of hurt, right now. But she’d said she wasn’t evil, and Much found himself really wanting to believe it.
Ages ago - months and months, back when Marcie had been friends with the Sheriff, she’d said to him It helps. Having someone who expects better of me and it had been one of the best things anyone had said to Much in ages. Knowing that the simple act of him believing in someone could help them change something about themselves for the better.
“So... you didn’t really mean it?” he asked, tentatively. “When you threatened her friend?”
“No,” Lust said vehemently. “I don’t hurt people. Or-” she corrected, as though realising she’d been talking about such terrible threats. “I don’t hurt people physically. I try not to.” She crossed her arms again and turned her back on Much. “But Hell thinks they can make me doing whatever they want. Lucifer and Satan think they own me and that they get to control me and use me against anyone they like.” She turned her intense gaze back to Much. “They don’t own me, and I don’t take their orders.”
The genuine frustration and anger at that didn’t need to be faked. Lucifer and Satan didn’t get to control her, no matter what they thought. She was a Sin, a free agent, and fuck anyone who thought she could be contained or directed.
Anything to do with Lucifer still terrified Much (he should GO!) but if Belinda was raging against Lucifer then they were on the same side. Because Lucifer and Satan didn't get to own her, own anyone. Because… she said (with great hurt in her tone) that she wasn't going to hurt Mary's friends, and…
Much really wanted to believe her. "My friend Will works with Wrath," he said, searching for more ways to convince himself. "For a Saint and everything."
Lust smiled at little at that, and it was easy to make it appear that the smile was about the relief of being listened to. But, oh Wrath, Wrath and her stupid love of being ‘good’. Dumb useless Wrath hanging out with the forces of Heaven and making all the lines so beautifully blurry for Lust’s benefit.
“And she’s dating Saint George,” Lust added for his little Wrath information package. “They’ve been together for years. Doesn’t that say something? If we were evil she’d be out there murdering everyone, not working for a Saint and loved by another Saint. But she’s like me- sometimes it’s hard to fight the nasty thoughts inside.”
Mary had warned him. Mary had said she's incredibly bad news.
But Belinda was smiling at him like no one ever listened to her, like he was the first to see past the label to the struggle to be good underneath. Like he was the only one who could.
Mary's warning couldn't drown that out.
"Yeah," said Much, reaching for her hand again. "Yeah, it says something."
Lust’s expression was one of pure gratitude, her smile one of emotional relief. She was so glad that he believed her! (She was so glad that he believed her, the foolish hero.)
“Thank you,” Lust said with deep feeling. “Thank you for choosing to believe in me.” She reached out and took his hands in hers. “You didn’t have to do that, but I wanted you to know who I was before anything happened.”
"See… you didn't have to do that either," he said, convincing himself further. "If you wanted to be awful, you didn't have to tell me anything. That means heaps. Thank you, Belinda," he smiled at her, lacing their fingers together and getting another thrill at the intimacy, the mimicry of bodies entwined together, as they very almost had been… as they might be again, soon, he hoped.
“Will you still come to bed with me?” Lust asked him, even though she already knew the answer completely. There was no way that Much was walking away right now. Lust couldn’t even imagine a universe in which he would turn her down now after only having the briefest of tastes.
But wasn’t it good and moral to make him think he had a choice?
It was what Belinda would do.
"God yes-" came out of Much's mouth in a rush, and he gave a short laugh again at how fast he spoke, but then he was stepping toward her again, cupping her face in his hand and feeling the strong, strong pull of desire, deep in his gut like a hook. "You're so…" were there words? No, there wasn't, there was just the draw of her, and when he kissed her again it felt like the best kind of free-falling.
Some part of him must have known, for it to feel like falling, but shit, there was nothing in the world quite like the abandon he felt when he kissed her.
Every single man on this planet was so easy that it was almost a joke. Lust allowed all of herself to be loosened upon him, the very spirit of what she was, and she wrapped her arms around him and drew him back towards the bed, reaching out hand behind herself to unzip the dress. He was going to lose his mind when he saw her out of this dress.
“I want you,” she said against his lips, the most perfect words to give and there had never been a soul immune to hearing them. Everyone wanted to be wanted, and especially by Want herself.
Her words ramped up the intensity, sending shivers right down his body, his lips so sensitive against her mouth, his whole body overcome with this need to have her closer, to be crushed against her, to feel himself deep inside her. Much felt the fabric grow loose in his hands, and his fingertips brushed the skin between her shoulderblades, helping the dress slide off her shoulders and drop from her body, revealing… her body. “Holy shit,” he whispered, looking down at her, his hands pressing patterns over her skin. “You’re so - you’re so gorgeous. Like I knew you were gorgeous but you’re gorgeous, fuck.” He pulled her closer by her hips, his mouth trailing kissing down her neck and using her bra strap like a road guiding his mouth down to her breasts. He needed to fill his mouth with her, just like his hands needed to fill themselves with the curves of her hips, her arse. Maybe he should go a little slower but - he couldn’t, anymore. She wanted him, and he wanted her so, so much in return.
So easy. So easy to take, so easy to have, so easy to own. She kissed him as she peeled away her lingerie, kissed him as she helped remove his own underwear, kissed him as their naked bodies were pressed against each other and she couldn’t miss the desperation in every one of his movements.
With her hand on the back of his neck, Lust drew back towards the bed and down on top of her, ready to sate his hunger like nothing else ever had. She would become his everything and then, when it pleased her, she would rip it all away.
But not tonight. Tonight he could reach the peaks of pleasure with her, tonight he could have his every desire fulfilled. It was so easy.
“Make me yours,” she whispered in his ear, teeth running along his earlobe.
Much was never a possessive lover, but tonight there was a need in him he couldn’t control, and didn’t want to control. Why try to restrain anything about himself when she was kissing him like that, stripping him naked like that? Why would he do absolutely anything other than make her his when that’s what she was asking for? Much turned his head and caught her mouth in a searing kiss, his knees urging her thighs wide open, fingers pushed through hers, pinned one hand to the sheets. When he slid the head of his dick along her hot, wet cunt he moaned so roughly the growl of it tore at his throat. The heat of her made him feel crazy, and when he thrust inside her, literally nothing else mattered. Nothing but the hot squeeze of her around him, and god he wanted more, kissing her intently as he fucked her into the hotel bed.
Much was hers. The desperate sounds, the desperate desire to fuck her until everything became pleasure, the desperation for this moment- all of it was intoxicating, and the sounds of pleasure that she made were genuine. The sex itself was enjoyable, but the true pleasure of it was brought on by her own power.
“Yes,” she breathed against his mouth, her voice catching both on the words and on his rough kisses. “Yes, fuck me!”
“Yes - yes -” He gasped for breath between kisses, kisses on her mouth and her neck, anywhere he could as his hips didn’t stop, as he slid his hand further down her leg to grip under her knee and pull it up harder to push in deeper. More, it was so important he find a way to have more. He let go of her hand so he could wrap his arm around her back and pull their bodies closer, as each stroke pried his mind apart with how good she felt.
There was no way any part of this could be evil. This was the very pinnacle of pleasure, he wanted her and wanted her and wanted her but with every thrust he had her and it was everything, having her was everything.
Lust could feel the way he was unravelling, could practically feel his soul free for the taking. Not that Lust had much use for souls, unless they were pretty things kept in jars, but she felt like if she’d demanded to have Much’s in that moment, he would have handed it over willingly.
He was holding her so close, which really ruined the look she wanted to give him, the look that would undo him even further, but her words could be used just as easily.
“I want you to come for me, Much,” she hissed: the serpent in the garden, the shark beneath the boat, the knife behind the back.
He whimpered, the sound of his name in her voice enough to push him right up against the edge, all tension and glorious agony and the frantic need for more, even when he was coming so hard he couldn’t see, he was still wanting more. Just a few more seconds of this intense orgasm, just a few more seconds of feeling this alive, this pleasure so vivid it was right up against pain because it was too much, too much to handle. So he didn’t handle it, he cried out wordlessly against her throat, collapsing onto her, wave after wave of pleasure breaking on her shore.
Lust ran one hand over his back and the other through his hair. Maybe from the outside they would have looked (and felt) like affectionate gestures, but they were possessive. Her scent was all over him now, in every way that mattered, and she smiled to herself as he lay there.
“That was so amazing,” Lust purred. (I am so amazing.)
Even her purr sent another frisson of pleasure down his spine, adding to the warm, deeply satisfied feeling engulfing his whole body. “You’re amazing,” he managed to mumble, lifting his head to catch her mouth again in another perfectly satisfying kiss. He didn’t want to move yet, still relishing the feeling of her around him. “I - that was - you are - you feel - wow.”
“Thanks,” Lust said with a grin, less predatory now that he was actually looking at her face now and then. “Not so bad yourself.” God, what a cliché, but humans loved clichés. Humans were clichés.
She continued running her fingers through his hair, with each touch making him fall deeper under her charms. By the end of this - whatever that end may be - she wanted Much so dependent on her that he would breathe only if she commanded it.
Her touch made his eyes fall closed, blissed out and mellow in post orgasm bliss, and after another few moments of this enviable treatment he did lift his hips and slip out of her. But even then he didn’t go far, he couldn’t let himself go far, this was too good, and he settled down at her side, fingers exploring the curves of her body again. And again and again. He cupped his hand over her breast, gazing into her eyes, seeing only the women she presented as and nothing else beneath. How could he, with this soft, soft swell of breast beneath his hand? She was so irresistible, so Much didn’t resist, brushing his fingers over her nipple. “I never want to stop touching you,” he breathed. “All night - I want to make you come all night long.”
“Then I won’t stop you,” Lust told him with gentle amusement, leaning in to kiss his throat. “I’ve got nowhere else to be.”
Much wished he had nowhere else to be, ever again. All he wanted was to stay here, his hands and his mouth all over her, their legs entwined as they rolled about, making a mess of the hotel bed, and the floor where the blankets were kicked, and the kitchen bench, and the shower and the bed again and the front door, too, as he said a final goodbye to her with his fingers buried in the heat between her legs. It was morning by then, and he’d only slept because she’d exhausted him, and now, walking back toward the subway, his muscles ached, and his eyes were so tired. And despite the exhaustion he still wanted to grab himself through his jeans every time he smelt her on his hands.
Irresistible, utterly irresistible. God he felt good, worn out but perfect, and only just short of satisfied because she wasn't still here. If she was, he could pull her into his lap on the subway, arms around her slim waist (it was bare, in his imagination) and press his head against her back and close his eyes and rest.
Then take her back to his apartment and back into his bed.
When he did get back to his bed, though, all he could do was set an alarm before he fell into it, face down and half asleep already. His dreams suffered no such physical exhaustion, and Belinda featured in every one of them.
It wasn't till after he'd woken up again, his body aching from last night's endless workout, that the smallest of doubts started to gather and grow. They'd been small enough at first to brush away easily, but as he munched away at toast in the kitchen the doubts found others deep in his belly, like magnetic filings, creating a tug of instinct that was just a bit harder to ignore.
He went back to Mary's post, and read over the messages between her and Lust again, approaching them with the idea that all she was doing was ribbing Mary, that she didn't really mean it, that she wouldn't really hurt anyone. But Mary's message to him about what would happen if Lust killed her was…
Well it didn't feel like a joke. Much gnawed at his lip and with building apprehension he clicked on Lust's journal, scrolling back. They'd talked a year ago, before he'd been warned off, before he'd met Sloth, he remembered that. Still, he could kid himself she was just trouble, not genuinely bad… it was hard to forget the way she'd looked, relief that he'd believed her. Hard to forget her body underneath his, how wet she'd been and how deeply she'd kissed him -
Much had to put his phone down for a minute, thousand yard stare out the window for a few long moments, thumb against his lips.
When he did finally lift his phone again, the next post dropped the floor from under him. Lust posing with a very murdered Wrath. Lucifer, down in the comments, congratulating her.
Every good feeling congealed in his belly. No no no no no.
There was more. Things about keeping a saint's soul in a jar.
They put a whole different spin on her words to Mary after that, and Mary's words to him.
Oh - he was stupid.
He was so, so stupid.
The doubts all turned solidly to horror and shame. She was using him to get at Mary. Of course she was, and he'd let her.
(And enjoyed it, enjoyed it so much, every fucking moment.)
But no. No. That was it. It was over. He knew now, and he was determined: he was going to forget he never met her, that any of last night ever happened, and it was never, never going to happen again.