Top Harry Sagas

Posted originally on the Archive of Our Own at http://archiveofourown.org/works/21745030.

Rating: Explicit
Archive Warning: No Archive Warnings Apply
Categories: M/M, Multi
Fandoms: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling, Smallville, Teen Wolf (TV), Sherlock (TV),
True Blood (TV), Vikings (TV), 9-1-1 (TV), The Hobbit - All Media
Types, Hawaii Five-0 (2010), X-Men - All Media Types, The Boys (TV
2019), Station 19 (TV), The Avengers (Marvel Movies), The Gentlemen
(2019), Criminal Minds (US TV), Supernatural, Twilight Series - All
Media Types, Naruto, John Wick (Movies), Pacific Rim (Movies), The
Last Kingdom (TV), Gangs of London (TV), Deadpool - All Media
Types, The Chronicles of Riddick (2004), Pirates of the Caribbean
(Movies), S.W.A.T. (TV 2017), Shadowhunters (TV)
Relationships: Clark Kent/Harry Potter, Peter Hale/Harry Potter, Sherlock
Holmes/Harry Potter, Eric Northman/Harry Potter, Harry Potter/Oliver
Queen, Harry Potter/Ragnar Lothbrok, Harry Potter/Eddie Diaz, Harry
Potter/Bruce Wayne, Harry Potter/Thranduil (Tolkien), Steve
McGarrett/Harry Potter, Carl Grimes/Harry Potter, Derek Hale/Harry
Potter, Logan (X-Men)/Harry Potter, Harry/The Homelander | John,
Harry Potter/Rigo Vasquez, Loki (Marvel)/Harry Potter, Raymond
Smith/Harry Potter, Harry Potter/Spencer Reid, Harry Potter/Dean
Winchester, Carlisle Cullen/Harry Potter, Namikaze Minato/Harry
Potter, Harry Potter/John Wick, Harry Potter/Danny "Danno" Williams,
Harry Potter/Stacker Pentecost, Harry Potter/Young Jun, Uhtred of
Bebbanburg/Harry Potter, Harry Potter/Gabriel Lorca, Harry/Alfred the
Great, Harry Potter/Sean Wallace, Gojo Satoru/Harry Potter, Harry
Potter/Wade Wilson, Harry Potter/Thorin Oakenshield, Harry
Potter/Richard B. Riddick, Harry Potter/Jack Sparrow, Harry
Potter/Severus Snape, Harry Potter/David "Deacon" Kay, Harry
Potter/Jace Wayland, Merle Dixon/Harry Potter
Additional Tags: Top Harry Potter, Alternate Universe
Language: English
Series: Part 1 of Top Harry MultiVerse, Part 1 of Top Harry Sagas
Stats: Published: 2019-12-10 Completed: 2022-01-23 Words: 136,606
Chapters: 45/45
 Top Harry Sagas
by SlashyJazz

Summary

Stories dedicated to Top! Harry Potter because they are seriously lacking.

Inspired by Top Harry Drabbles by stridermagic

 Intro

I'm kind of fan crazy over the idea of Top Harry Potter and have found that it's seriously
lacking in that department, so I have decided to contribute to the amazing cause of giving
Harry ample chance to raid some booty and build amazing relationships with every male
character I've grown attached to and just wish would bottom on screen.

I'm not exactly a pioneer of television watching or an avid movie goer to be honest so if you
all have any prompts you want fulfilled that I know nothing about I'll have to either watch the
show or do some intense research.

The stories here will be as it says on the title, complete and utter Top Harry. I already have a
couple pairing stories written out.

Will include werewolf Harry, Master of Death Harry and other variations I want to squeeze
him into. Mpreg or at least implied mpreg will be featured in some, I'm not too sure which
level I want to push it to as of yet.

Fandoms I am familiar with:

Harry Potter

Smallville

Teen Wolf

Vikings

Hawaii 5-O (2010)

9-1-1

The Punisher

Warrior (This is a 2019 tv show that I have yet to see in the fandom list on Ao3 but it's pretty
good imho)

Sherlock Holmes

The Walking Dead

X-Men (with just a heavy focus on Logan tbh)

The Dark Knight

Marvel Universe

Venom

Supernatural

True Blood

Twilight

Criminal Minds

Feel free to drop me some prompts to help churn the old imagination pot.

I will update the relationship and character tags as the stories get added. The archive
warnings may or may not change.
 Harry/Clark Kent
Chapter Summary

The confusing courtship of Kryptonian teenagers. (Harry/Clark Kent, Smallville)

Chapter Notes
See the end of the chapter for notes

Of Krypton and Farm boys.

Clark clenched his jaw, teeth grinding as he resisted the urge to curse the boy back to
whatever pit of Krypton he had crawled from, the hand around his throat squeezed until he
was reduced to gasping breaths, chest tight from the lack of air. His hands were being held
above his head in an equally if not more so tight hold and while he was sure that within a few
minutes he would suffocate he couldn’t help but want to head butt the smug grin from his
face.

“Do you yield?” the voice was as patient as it had been when this whole thing started and it
made Clark want to scream in frustration but he could barely breathe so that was off the
table.

“Do. You. Yield.” each word was punctuated with the smirking face of the green eyed teen
coming closer to his face, until their lips were brushing, the knee between his thighs pushing
rather suggestively against his privates and Clark for all the boy scout he was according to
Lex, knew what arousal felt like.

“Y-yes..!” he gasped out, words barely audible but the hand removed itself and he sucked in
lungfuls of sweet oxygen.

Clark wasn’t a small teen, at seventeen he had the body to play the sport his human-father
loved, broad shoulders and a trim waist and while he wasn’t the biggest guy on the team he
wasn’t the smallest either by any long shot.

Harry Potter had transferred to Smallville High just shy of two months ago and like whatever
tornado that dropped him in the quiet town he seemed to have bewitched everyone even the
headstrong Chloe but Clark wasn’t fooled.

He could see the underlying contempt the year older boy held for everyone he interacted
with, and at first he believed it to be perhaps a superiority complex, some rich kid fetish of
charming people but secretly wiping his hands if they touched him. It had annoyed him yes,
but it wasn’t his business if people didn’t see an obvious danger in the new kid.
It did however become his business when he caught Lana giggling over something the other
boy had said.

‘Can I kiss you?’

The words were spoken slowly, voice low and that of a man and not a teen going through
puberty, and Lana, sweet Lana who ignored all other jocks and had recently begun smiling at
Clark blushed a deep red and nodded hesitantly.

Potter had leaned down, because the bastard was a good two inches taller than Clark’s
impressive 6”1. He stood there in the middle of the hallway with other students who were
looking on at the kiss, mutterings of a new ‘power couple’ emerging from the girls, phones
out already texting away.

Lana sunk into the kiss, her books falling to the floor and hands coming to clench the soft
knitted dark green sweater Potter was wearing. Girls squealed, a few lamenting and cursing
Lana while the boys wolf whistled and cursed Potter for grabbing one of the hottest girls in
school.

All Clark could do was flinch as those green eyes lifted and stared directly at him even as he
continued to kiss the girl of Clark’s dreams.

Those eyes were taunting, daring him to come after him and even after Potter had broken the
kiss, passing Lana a slip of paper before he left her to gather herself once again, a group of
girls circling her like vultures for the details and ‘if the kiss was good.’

Of course it was good, even Clark could see it was good if the trembling of Lana’s body and
the labored breathing, her chest rising and falling as though she had been under water for
hours was any indication.

He followed Potter with his eyes, the other teen walking down the hallway with his backpack
slung over one shoulder and like the cocky asshole he was he raised a hand and crooked a
finger in a ‘come here’ motion over his shoulder.

He was baiting Clark.

And like the idiot Chloe often told him he was, he took the bait and confronted him. Asked
him why he had done it only to get a -

‘Toying with them is fun’

He hadn’t meant to lash out, to hit him but the mere fact the other boy had been playing with
Lana’s feelings made Clark so very very angry that his body moved before his brain could
stop his arm.

There was a split second of absolute fear, of heart gripping panic when he realized he was
using his normal strength and not the watered down version he used to pretend to be human,
and because of a stupid teenage crush he was about to kill a human.
When Potter’s head only whipped to the side and not off his shoulders as he would have
expected in a spray of blood and gore Clark let out a shaky breath of relief, an apology on his
lips until it clocked in that Potter’s head hadn’t flung itself off his neck even though he had
just been hit with a super-powered right hook.

Standing on defense had done very little because one moment Potter was swallowing the
blood that had welled up on the inside of his mouth, what little managed to dribble from his
lip, and the next he was returning the hit that sent Clark flying across the dark football field.

This was perhaps the first time he had felt pain other than from the green kyptonite and like a
vengeful spirit Potter kept coming again and again, each hit landing precisely that Clark
didn’t have anytime to block them. Not that he could because he had never gotten into a
proper fight in his life - at least not any that he fought back in.

The one sided fight had ended with him being choked several miles away from the school
and on a small dark bay somewhere on the coastline after the land borne fight took to the air
when Potter threw him like a rag doll and flew after him.

“I yielded, why are you still holding onto me?” the infuriating smirk only widened and Clark
wanted to scream out in frustration at the other’s arrogance.

“Don’t you know in wars the victor gets his choice of the spoils.” it was said in a very matter
of fact way that made Clark twitch.

“I’m no ones spoils Potter, certainly not yours, now let me go.”

“Harry.” the smirk was gone and in it’s place was a slightly annoyed glare.

“What?”

There was an eye-roll now and the older boy squeezed his wrists hard enough he felt the
bones creak beneath his skin in protest.

“My name is Harry , not Potter.”

“But Potter is your last name what does it matter if I call you Potter?”

“Because I said don’t, no one calls you Kent do they? Then call me by my first name.”

“Why should I? I don’t want to!” Clark watched at the annoyed glare intensified and the
green eyes seemed to glow.

“Because I want you to!” it was also the first time he heard the other raise his voice and for
once he was acting his age.

“Why the hell should I?!” he didn’t mean to scream back but the other apparently kyptonian
unless they were other super-powered races that could fly, brought out the worse in him.

“Because I like you!”

The declaration startled Clark into silence and he could only stare at the other hovering above
him, face twisted as if in pain and green eyes glowing in the dark like beacons.

“I’ve tried to tell you, leaving small notes in your locker, buying you lunch and bribing the
canteen women to hand it to you, leaving those god awful sports drinks I see you guzzling
down by your locker after practice but you only ever have eyes for Lana Lang .”

Lana’s name was said with so much venom a protest was bubbling on Clark’s tongue in her
defense.

“So I showed you just how much she liked you today, how much she treasured you, just as I
showed everyone how easy she was.”

“She’s not easy! Don’t say that about her!”

Harry yelled in frustration, his knee pressing harder by mistake against Clark’s crotch and a
surprised moan escaped Clark’s lips.

They both froze, wide green staring down into blue as a blush covered Clark’s face from the
humiliation of moaning in pleasure, and Harry the bastard smirked, leaning down again with
his knee pressing then grinding down on the slight bulge that had risen after the first press.

The moan that tore itself from him this time was much longer, much breathier and more
embarrassing than anything Clark had ever done.

“S-stop it!” he couldn’t believe he was getting an erection from the rough treatment inflicted
on him by the other boy, that his body was liking the hard press of the knee against his
crotch.

Harry looked down and Clark followed his line of vision, face burning darker when he
realized the other was staring at the obvious tent in his jeans.

Harry raised an eye-brow at the fellow kryptonian under him, it had been a surprise when he
had been hit and tasted blood in his mouth afterwards. The power behind the fist spoke of
otherworldly abilities and the fact he wasn’t changing shape or his skin wasn’t morphing into
green like a Martian told him that Clark Kent, his crush for all of two months was from his
planet as well.

He kept his knee where it was but used his hand this time to press against the large bulge that
was straining in the blue jeans, hand squeezing it and eliciting a deep groan of pleasure from
the boy under him and shit if those sounds weren’t going straight to his own dick.

He didn’t know what had drawn him to the other but he knew from the moment he had
signed up to join the american game of football and saw Clark who had welcomed him to the
team his chest had constricted so painfully he thought he was about to die.

He had tried to woo the boy, leaving him gifts and small tokens but Clark in all of his simple
minded farm boy ways had thanked others for the gifts and the humans hadn’t once rebuffed
the thanks.
Playing with the covered length, his knuckles brushing over the material of the jeans before
squeezing it again to draw another throaty moan from Clark, Harry chuckled, hand tightening
around the erection and Clark bucked upwards, not in pain but pleasure.

“S...st-stop...p-please…”

Harry stared down at the flushed face of the boy he was crushing so hard on it might just be
love and tsked, his hand retreating along with the one holding his hands captive. Clark looked
close to tears that Harry felt his dick jerk in rebellion at being confined and he had to stomp
down on the urge to blow the boy where he laid on the sand.

Groaning he flopped down beside the younger kryptonian, listening to Clark draw in deep
breaths to steady himself even as he tried to pull his tee-shirt down over the probably painful
erection he was sporting in his jeans.

“You’re such a virgin.”

Harry snickered and received a slap to the chest for his troubles. Rubbed the spot that stung
he pouted a bit at the fact he had made sure to pull his punches during their little scuffle but
Clark seemed to like to use his full strength on him.

“...So what if I am. Not everyone is like you.”

“Charming?”

“No, a sex addict. There are a lot of stories going around school about you. How many
people you’ve slept with, even the teachers.”

Harry rolled his eyes and covered them with an arm. “Just ‘cause people talk don’t mean
they’re true.”

“So you didn’t sleep with half of the cheerleading squad?” Clark sounded doubtful and Harry
shrugged.

“Believe what you want, not like anything I say will change your mind.” Harry murmured
and he felt Clark shift beside him, the small movement causing him to open his eyes and look
to the side to see two expressive blues staring back at him.

“Did you?” Harry stared at the beautiful, because that was what the other boy was, farm boy
or not, that face was one he would gladly start a war over if there were any wars to ignite.

“No.” he confessed “They wanted to but I never went further than light kissing.”

Clark continued to stare at him and Harry could feel a knot of hunger forming in the pit of his
stomach. He wanted Clark beyond any form of carnal pleasure, yes he wanted to consume the
other entirely but he also wanted the parts of Clark that he had been willing and ready to give
to fucking Lana Lang.

“You really like me... don’t you?” it was asked with a sense of wonder as if Clark couldn’t
believe that someone wanted him other than as a friend and Harry wanted to crush whoever
the asshole was who placed that doubt in Clark’s pretty head.

“I do.” and that was perhaps the easiest confession he ever made.

Clark hummed, pushing himself up from the sandy bay and tried to subtly readjust his still
raging hard on, the sight from below making Harry’s mouth water a bit, Clark noticing
because he turned around to hide himself.

Rolling his eyes again Harry stood as well, shoving his hands into pockets and hunching his
shoulders to make himself appear smaller in case Clark decided to grow skittish once more.

When Clark turned around again, arms crossed over his chest Harry’s eyes were drawn to
them and his flexing biceps and then the less than impressed expression on his face.

“You get one date.”

Harry’s eyes widened slowly and he dared to not breathe. “I owe you that much for punching
you without a proper reason.”

He could only nod numbly and Clark nodded as if that was the end of their deal making.

“Now I have to get home, my mom is gonna to kill me because of you, do you know how late
I am for curfew?” the teen rambled on and Harry could only stare at him, hell he was beyond
caring if he looked like a love sick puppy.

“You can’t fly yet can you.” he let the amusement leak into his voice just to see Clark’s
feathers get ruffled and he wasn’t disappointed.

“I’m learning, besides you brought me out here, it’s only right you take me back home.”
Clark had hardly finished his sentence when Harry stepped into his personal space, and
wrapped his arms around the two inches shorter boy making Clark’s ears turning red in an
instant.

“Of course.” he took Clark’s hand in his, feigning bringing it to his lips just to see the
embarrassment escalate to new heights before placing the hand to hold his shoulder then held
Clark around the slim waist.

“Hold on tight.” he wouldn’t mind carrying the other in his arms bridal style but he had a
feeling Clark would hit him again if he tried to. Propelling off into the air he left a small
crater in the sand and he felt Clark’s hand shift slightly and wrap more securely around his
neck.

“Don’t worry. I won’t let you go.” that came out more sappy than he intended it to but Clark
turned his blue gaze on him, squinting as if he was trying to figure something out.

He would try his best on the date, in fact he planned on wooing the holy shit out of Clark
until the other boy could only think of him.

“What did you write on the paper you gave Lana?” Clark asked and yelped when Harry dug
his fingers into his side. “Nothing important.”
 Clark eyed him suspiciously but soon forgot when Harry tickled his side again.

It really wasn’t anything important, just giving her a fair warning.

Fuck off from what’s mine Lang.

Chapter End Notes

Smallville was my favourite tv show growing up, but I've always hated Lana even as a
kid.
 Harry/Peter Hale
Chapter Summary

Peter Hale is infuriating and Harry's heart goes pitter-patter. (Harry/Peter Hale, Teen
Wolf)

Chapter Notes
See the end of the chapter for notes

Harry gave an appreciative hum as his betas wrestled the half shifted Were to the forest floor,
the man roaring his rage through a garbled mess of fangs and anger. Stepping closer he let the
cool earth under the dry leaves relax his body, his stance, his own simmering and building
aggression at seeing Peter fucking Hale on his territory again after so long.

With a knee pressed into his spine, arms bent backwards far enough that any sharp movement
would break them and claws prickling at the meat of his neck Peter finally settled down
though his eyes still burned into the nearest beta promising retribution.

Ah, that was so like Peter, always scheming and plotting even when he had the bad end of the
stick or funny enough perfectly happy and content. Harry wanted to hit him hard enough his
pretty face was permanently broken but he was never the type of man or alpha to use a
vendetta to harm someone weaker than him, because despite what Peter might think or
believe so hard it had the ability to manifest - he was still just a beta.

“It brings me to wonder why exactly is Peter Hale in my territory smelling of blood and
hunters.”

Those lovely blue eyes that Harry would have gladly drowned in years ago snapped to him
and he watched as recognition, alarm and finally apprehension flickered through them, his
body seemingly remaining relaxed but Harry could see the tense lines of his spine and
shoulders, minute twitches that he had once mapped out with his tongue several times a day.

“Harrison.” Peter drawled, a slow smirk coming to his lips “Surprise seeing you here.”

Harry couldn’t help the huff of exasperation that left him as he crouched down directly in
front of Peter, the beta’s eyes widening a bit and nostrils flaring as he took in his scent. From
the vantage point Peter was as beautiful as he had been all those years ago, matured now and
packing more muscle than he had before, a dangerous man with a lot more experience under
his belt.

“Uh huh. You rushed headfirst into my territory after giving a fleeting warning howl. There’s
a crashed SUV a couple miles back, two dead hunters and enough wolfsbane in the
surrounding areas to potentially take out a pack. Whoever else was in the car got away, no
doubt by the other car reported heading back to town. You yourself are injured, not counting
the bullet in your thigh. So unless you found yourself being called out on poker again I
suggest you spill your guts before I literally make you spill them. I’m sure Talia would mourn
the lost of her favourite enforcer and baby brother.”

He watched as the lines of Peter’s back went rigid and the easy composure the man had
crumbled, shifting from anger to fear and back again before the Hale beta slumped forward,
head hanging low enough that his lose disarrayed hair brushed over the ground.

“That’s quite the dirty play Harrison.”

“And you have once again brought trouble to my doorstep Hale. Speak or I’ll drag you to the
hunters myself.”

Harry ignored the raised brow from his second in command, the red head wouldn’t call him
out on his bluff in front of Hale but his betas all knew him better than that, and at one point in
time what seemed now like centuries ago Peter had known him better than anyone. From the
bitter scent of panic that wafted from the Hale beta he bought the lie, new flush of sweat
prickling at Peter’s skin and his struggle renewed.

“You can’t! They will kill me Harrison!”

“Then they would be doing me and others a favor.”

The hurt he saw flash across Peter’s bloody face was almost enough for him to apologize but
he bit his tongue and kept the indifferent facade. Peter deserved a lot more hurt than just a
simple line of crass words.

“Will you talk or should I just let the wolfsbane currently circulating in your bloodstream do
the hunters job for them. Either way, your body will be going back as a truce.”

Peter let a shaky breath go and unlike before his body did go loose, all the fight he had
building and pent up was exhausted and released. “I’ll talk.”

“Good boy. Bring him. Bill go and tell Luna she’ll be having a patient and let Hermione
reinforce the barriers just in case we have unexpected guests. Ron get the patrol back in order
and tighten the ranks. We’ll be on high alert until I say otherwise.”

The two brothers nodded, both going off in different directions and Harry motioned for the
betas to take Peter back to the center of his territory. Standing straight again he stretched his
back and sighed, more annoyed at the turn of what had been a quiet week but definitely
irritated about the sting of longing he felt after initially smelling Peter before he even saw
him.

Taking his time in heading back towards the pack house, behind him the wards that kept his
people safe glimmered for a few seconds before it shimmered into transparency.

By the time he arrived at the med bay, which was a two storey cottage a few yards away from
the main pack house Luna was already treating the wayward Hale, the bullet extracted and
the powder from one of their many stores of wolfsbane and bullets alike having burned its
way through his flesh to allow the wound to heal. Peter himself was passed out on the bed,
face devoid of the blood from before and complexion pale.

“Alpha.” Luna greeted him, voice soft and dreamy as always and he brushed the back of his
hand to her cheek. “Mr. Hale will be fine. A bit of blood loss and fatigue but both can be
fixed with rest and a good meal.”

“Hmm. Thank you Luna.” the platinum blond woman gave him a sleepy smile before she
drifted out of the room and Harry took her seat by the bed, the hours ticking by in silence as
he sorted through several documents while Peter slept.

The slight uptick of a heartbeat other than his own and the barest of changes in scent alerted
him to Peter being awake but the Hale enforcer was nothing if not careful and Harry smacked
him over the chest when the minutes went by and he still pretended to sleep. “I don’t have all
night with you Hale. Get to talking.”

“I am here on behalf of my Alpha Talia Maria Hale to request your help. We are at war with
the Argents and two of their allied clans. They accused us of killing one of their own - the
former Matriarch of the clan Victoria Argent. Gerard has stepped in as the new leader until
Allison - Victoria’s daughter reaches of age and it’s him who pushed for retribution.”

Harry’s eyebrow’s slowly raised until they were nearly blending in with his hairline. “Well
shit.”

Peter hummed and stretched on the bed, the slight cover draped over his lap shifting further
down and Harry did not even try to pretend he was not looking and Peter gave him a slow
grin before rolling over onto his belly but not without a grimace of pain.

Harry’s eyes were drawn to the curve of Peter’s ass, the beta’s rump no longer perky but most
definitely on the side of firm and bubbly. Giving Peter a flat stare the man grinned back in
response, hand reaching out to rest on Harry’s jean clad knee. Staring at the hand then the
man himself he felt the simmering resentment and anger from before come alive again and
only when Peter’s eyes flashed blue, neck bared ever so slightly did he realize his were red.

“Alpha…” the word was whispered but there was a fine tremor in his voice that Harry had
once sought out almost reverently.

“We’re not doing this Peter, not after what you did.”

The hand moved further up his thigh and the alpha of the Black Pack stopped breathing for a
moment. Red eyes a warning that Peter didn’t pay heed to.

“Alpha.” Peter rolled over onto his back, the thick cord of his neck bared fully and his
vulnerable belly exposed. Harry barely had a second to reign back in his self control when he
found himself leaving the chair, clawed hands pressing Peter into the mattress and teeth just
shy of grazing his skin.
 “We’re not doing this Peter.” even he could hear the lie in his voice, his heartbeat thumping
under his skin rabbit fast.

Peter arched up into the warm body pressing into his own, unashamedly rubbing his erection
against Harry’s stomach and Harry growled, a sound more animal than human that made
Peter whine.

“Alpha, please…”

Chapter End Notes

I lived for Ian Bohen appearing in an episode of TW. Peter is basically v-necks and
snark but he was bae.
 Harry/Sherlock Holmes A/B/O
Chapter Summary

The art of deduction sometimes involves the deduction of clothing. (Harry/Sherlock

Holmes, BBC Sherlock Holmes)

Chapter Notes
See the end of the chapter for notes

Sherlock was still confused as to how he ended up in a bathroom stall, slacks thrown over the
door and his long legs wrapped around a tapered waist where there was an interesting and
particularly wicked looking scar just along the right hip bone.

Still, he could not figure out how between one conversation and the next of him dissecting an
alpha who made a pass at him and just when it seemed as though the man would give into the
urge to hit him, the meaty fist balled and shaking, four words had distracted him.

“That is simply amazing.”

He had turned to stare at the man who was on equal height with him or perhaps an inch taller,
dark hair slicked back with a rebel curl hanging dead center of his forehead, glasses perched
on his nose that were quickly pushed up.

Sherlock squinted at the man, an alpha in every way physically and the words sounded
familiar in the sense that they begun and ended with a short blond man who was perhaps the
only person to applaud his ability rather than be disgusted or afraid.

What happened after that was a blur and Sherlock clung to the alpha, arms holding the man
tight and his nails digging into the muscular back where the tips of his fingers could feel the
slight rise and notches of skin to signify scars and burns. His legs were spread and for a
fluttering moment Sherlock was amazed at the show of strength because while he was an
omega he was not a typical one and people assumed that just because he was slim it
correlated to him being light .

The cock in him was a hard and hot intrusive presence that he could feel reaching far deeper
than any toy he could buy, slick pouring from his crevice and making what would have been
an inconceivable tight fit; smooth if not just slightly uncomfortable with the girth.

This man was dangerous, that much he could deduce and Sherlock moaned at the prospect of
finding someone interesting to amuse him for the duration of the wedding event. He tried to
muffle his voice, to keep the small sounds contained but for once his restraint failed him and
his moans filled the bathroom stall, sounds reaching a fever pitch that only seemed to
encourage the man to fuck harder, fuck faster, to milk him for all he was worth.
“Come…! I’m goi- I’ll come!”

The thick length grinding against his prostate, the direct stimulation sending Sherlock over
the edge, eyes rolling backwards and body shaking as he came across both their chests. He
shuddered when the cock was pulled out, grey eyes peering down to stare at the monster that
had been within him, the base being squeezed in an effort to prevent the knot from forming,
an effort that took more than Sherlock was aware of if the ragged breathing from the
nameless Alpha was anything to go by.

A thick line of precum dripped from the tip and his eyes followed it as it landed on the
ground where a mess of slick pooled, then back up to the painful looking erection and
Sherlock without much reserve crouched down and took the thick head into his mouth, the
alpha slamming a hand into the side of the stall from both surprise and pleasure of having a
warm mouth suddenly wrap around him.

Sherlock trained himself to subdue his gag reflex for years, swallowing the toys he brought to
pleasure himself during heats since he was a boy and was given his first. Swallowing the man
should have been easy but with each inch he took in he found himself struggling, but he was
nothing if not persistent.

Feeling it nudge the back of his throat then slide down into the warm abyss Sherlock’s hole
clenched down on the empty space that the cock had left behind, the hole gaping and fresh
slick sliding from it to join the growing puddle on the floor.

Looking up, face flushed and his own dick erect again he stared into the startling green eyes
and found such heated lust and interest in them before all thoughts were dismissed from his
mind when his face was fucked. It wasn’t savage in the sense the alpha was rough and brutal
when in truth he was careful and considerate but the thickness and length of it made Sherlock
feel as though he was choking and the oxygen no matter how he breathed through his nose
was never enough.

He was going to cum again.

He was going to cum again untouched and only stimulated by a cock in his mouth in a
bathroom stall at his best-friend's wedding.

The alpha was still squeezing the base of his shaft and Sherlock barely had to roll the heavy
balls in hand before the man was shooting off and this time Sherlock really did choke, the
flood of cum was expected, the amount however wasn’t and the globs he didn’t manage to
swallow escaped through his nose causing him to pull away from the alpha's cock before he
really did die on it.

Coughing Sherlock idly realized the man was still coming, thick ropes of white that landed
on Sherlock’s face and the omega part of his brain bemoaned the fact that had he been
ejaculated in and knotted he would have become pregnant without much fuss and they missed
the chance.

It was several minutes later when they both came from the euphoric high that Sherlock
noticed he really did cum for a second time and his throat was an aching wreck, his ass felt
ruined, pucker still trying to clench around something that was not there. A hand on his chin
pulled him from his inner reflections of his body’s delightful damages, grey eyes watching as
the man’s face came closer and then something wet swiping over his face.

“I did not mean to ah… do this across your face. I apologize.” his voice was baritone, much
like Sherlock’s but much smoother and he found himself leaning towards the solid figure
before he caught himself.

Sherlock let himself be taken care of, the paper towel in the bathroom being wet by the sink
to clean off both their spunk from his face and chest until the evidence was gone and flushed
down the toilet drain. The alpha then fixed his clothing that were now a bit wrinkled before
he fixed himself, tucking the flaccid cock back into his pants and Sherlock followed it’s
disappearance with his eyes until the black dress shirt was tucked into the slacks again and
the green tie perfectly resting on the broad chest.

Reaching out he straightened the tie before he looked up and found the same hunger there as
before.

“I would enjoy it greatly if I could hear more of your deductive reasoning.”

Sherlock raised a brow and leaned against the wash basin before holding out a hand
“Sherlock Holmes.”

The man looked briefly surprised before taking the hand in his larger one and shook it “Harry
Watson. Not to be confused with Harriet who goes by Harry as well.”

Sherlock’s brain came to a screeching halt and his eyes widened “Relation to the groom…”

“Older brother, different mother.”

“Ah.”

Harry stepped forward into Sherlock’s space, thigh wedging itself between Sherlock’s own to
press against his crotch “I really do mean what I say. You are perhaps the most interesting
human being I have encountered in a very long time Mr. Holmes. My little brother has
spoken much and very well of you.”

Of course John has because when the man is excited he tends to ramble, that much Sherlock
knew, but how he failed to mention he had an older brother, half brother or not was a mystery
when the man told him the most mundane of stories about the supermarket of all things.

Walking back to the small church Sherlock held his head high when it was obvious people
would be able to smell the scent of sex on him and Harry walked beside him, long legs
keeping with Sherlock’s strides.

John’s expression shifted from surprise at seeing them together then to mild disgust at
realizing just why they were together before he fetched some spray and doused them both to
mask the heavy and distracting scent of a fresh fuck.
 “I suppose it’s safe to say you two have been properly introduced.” the sardonic way it was
said made Sherlock rolled his eyes.

“Really John. I get told about the rising prices of strawberries and apricots but you fail to
mention the fact you are indeed the second son who is preceded by him?”

A thumb was rudely jabbed backwards to point at Harry who just smiled happily and took he
finger in hand to lower it “That’s rude Sherlock.” both Watson brothers intoned and Sherlock
was the one who looked mildly disgusted now.

“If you two could refrain from anymore hanky-panky until the end of my marriage ceremony
I would be grateful.” John glared at them both and Sherlock rolled his eyes again before
turning his attention to Harry who was standing ramrod straight.

“Army?”

“Special Forces.” Harry corrected and smiled wider when Sherlock crept closer and begun to
pick him apart.

Chapter End Notes

Happy Holidays everyone, I hope you all had a pleasant Christmas~

I wrote this while listening to Celine Dion. Is that a special prerequisite for Hell?

I'm still trying to figure out how often I should post, and which pairings I should post
since I have a few written out already. Thanks for the comments and kudos, seriously
they are awesome motivation!

Next chapter will be posted in a few days!

 Harry/Eric Northman
Chapter Summary

Harry pack is new in town and as a courtesy he meets the so called Sheriff. (Harry/Eric
Northman, True Blood)

Chapter Notes
See the end of the chapter for notes

Eric could feel Pam tense beside him as the occupants of Fangtasia parted to the side to allow
the newest guests of Bon Temps through, most of the vampires under his control baring their
fangs at the presence of the other predators.

Eric himself could feel the hairs on the back of his neck raise in alarm and the unfamiliar gut
churning feeling of flight or fight began to boil, an instinctual response he had not felt since
he was human and dying now made itself known because of a werewolf. He wanted to laugh
at the irony of the situation because biologically a vampire his age had no natural predators
with the exception of sunlight and a stake to the heart, werewolves stood no chance against
him but yet - his hand clenched around the arm rest of the chair he was lounging in.

It took less than ten seconds to know that the werewolf standing before him and flanked by
two others was unlike Alcide Herveaux, this man had a feral and raw energy around him that
spoke of blood, death and hunger and Eric could see the strength in the broad shoulders and
powerful legs.

His companions were not too far under the spectrum of power either, one an older man with
his hair slicked back, eyes that showed no changing from the wolf-state and his teeth that
bared in a mockery of a smile at some bolder vampires were pointed. The next a red head
with two scars running down one half of his face, expression somber with hazel eyes focused
on Pam rather than the snarling vamps surrounding them as if they were mere flies to be
ignored.

The packmaster, because there was no possible way the middle man was a mere beta. The
relaxed slouch did very little to diminish his impressive height and Eric who was 6’4 could
see the werewolf was taller than he was, the man smiling at him, a simple tilt of his lips
enough so to make him look harmless had it not been for the scent of blood and death
engraved into his pores.

“Let’s have a private conversation Sheriff. Come along.”

“Who do you think-”

Eric raised a hand to stop Pam and repressed a shiver at the deep rumble of the packmaster’s
voice, the wolf careening off to the side where Eric’s office was, steps lazy in nature and back
still hunched. Unlike with Pam he did not bother to stop the three vampires who lunged at the
wolf instead he watched with heightened fascination as the claws extended and with a
careless swipe three heads rolled to the ground before their bodies burst in a spray of blood.
The other vamps quickly backed off and Eric stood from his seat, brushing a hand to the back
of Pamela’s thigh before he followed after the alpha wolf.

In the deep hues of Eric’s office the wolf looked even more intimidating sitting sprawled in
the single seat couch in front of the desk, head tilted back over the top and the pervasive
green eyes that had pinned Eric earlier closed.

“You are getting blood all over my chair and carpet.” he murmured after perching himself on
the desk and the werewolf looked up to give him a dopey grin.

“It’s the blood from your pets, you should clean it.”

Eric had lived long enough to distinguish a command from a suggestion and the casual
spreading of the wolf’s thighs was in no way a suggestion. If his heart could still beat it
would be pounding in his chest cavity but all he could do about the excitement and
apprehension thrumming under his skin was to not let his fangs drop. Stepping between the
long legs he leaned forward until their noses were almost brushing, blond hair mixing with
black and blue clashing with green.

“Why are you here in Bon Temps.” the man chuckled and raised his hips so Eric could yank
the soiled jeans off, the blood from the exploding trio of vamps soaked through the material
and down to his skin. Eric removed the thin sweater as well, droplets of blood running down
the muscled plains of the wolf’s chest and abdomen to disappear into trimmed dark curls.

“Isn’t it obvious.” came the vague reply and Eric hummed as he lowered himself to his knees
and began to lick the bloodied thighs of the wolf clean, the muscles he could feel under his
tongue flexed every now and then when he swiped over a ticklish area and without prompt he
swallowed the limp member that was already huge in the flaccid state.

“See? Unlike those yapping dogs outside you are smart aren’t you.” a large hand brushed
through his hair and Eric suckled on the hardening cock, the length growing and fattening
even more until Eric choked slightly on it, his throat bulging in what he imagined to be
surrealistic fashion. Never had he been so glad he lost the ability to breathe upon being
turned because no doubt now he would desperate for air with the meat that was lodged in his
throat, twitching and jerking from the tightness surrounding it.

The long fingers wrapped in his hair and Eric winced at the tightness of the hold before he
focused on the feeling of his throat being fucked albeit in a lazy manner all the while trying
to not choke. It didn’t help matters that he was already rock hard in his jeans, ass twitching in
anticipation of what was to come.

This was all a game of power not unlike besting the biggest and baddest person in a prison in
order to take the throne, and by taking Eric who was the Sheriff of Area 5 it would effectively
place him on top.
As the leader Eric would fall under his command after that of his right and left hand betas,
Pamela directly under Eric and then the rest of the wolf pack and any other Eric considered to
be a part of his direct connections. He was not pleased about the fact but he would rather live
than be killed.

Lips spread wide around the wolf cock he looked up into the piercing green before he was
pulled off the length completely and with more speed he believed someone of the Were’s size
could manage Eric was flipped over onto his belly, the items on the desk being pushed to the
ground. Pants quickly yanked down he braced himself when the wet fat tip of the cock was
pressed to his hole, the apprehension and thrill skyrocketed once more, dueling for first place
because that was an area that had not been used by anyone in well over two centuries.

He was practically virginal again and Eric was not delusional to think that any form of
foreplay would be given, the initial press turning into a push and Eric felt himself open up
forcefully under the hard cock pushing at his pucker.

Eric screamed as white hot pain burned through his body and he wondered in the recess of
his mind if being staked was nearly as painful as this was, the thick cock tearing him
immediately and continued to do so until it was rooted to the hilt and Eric moaned at the
feeling of being stuffed to the brim, his belly bulging a bit from the intrusion.

It took nearly five minutes before his body began to heal itself and almost three minutes
before Eric was thanking Godric for turning him, for allowing him to be able to take such a
cock, the desk having moved several feet from the original position until it was pressed
against the wall from the force of the thrusts.

It had been too long since he was fucked and Eric had missed the hot pulsing of something in
him, of being held down and fucked silly. His status as a leader didn't warrant him the
privilege of allowing another to dominate him and he wouldn't trust any of the vampires as
far as he could throw them.

The cock in him was hot and pulsing, several degrees hotter than his body could ever be and
it felt as though he was being burned from the inside, impaled over and over by something
that would surely kill a human but here he was, begging for moremoremore.

“Ah! Th-there! Fuck me righ-aghnn!”

Eric howled as his prostate was throttled, the strokes angled to pressed against the nerve
ending without release, his body shuddering before he came, dick remaining erect and
trapped between the desk and his belly, the werewolf not slowing down in the slightest, the
heavy balls slapping against the curve of his ass. His leg was hitched onto the desk causing
the angle to change and white spots danced in his vision.

“You are going to be very special to me in the coming months Eric Northman.” the wolf
draped himself over Eric’s back, cock grinding deep in the vampire’s belly as his head was
forcefully turned to the side for him to be kissed, tongue dragging over the dropped fangs
without a care for the blood that was spilt, Eric swallowing the fresh blood on impulse before
whimpering as his second orgasm was torn from him.
Afterwards he lost count, the constant pressure on his prostate leaving him little choice to
remain hard until his balls ache and his belly felt abused from the inside, his ass loose and
sloppy from the copious amounts of precum the wolf leaked and Eric could only claw weakly
at the man’s shoulders and back when positions were changed.

He was well over 1000 years old and should have the stamina to match but maybe that was as
much a myth as vampire lore the humans told one another.

His legs were pressed above his head until he was folded nearly in half and Eric felt the wolf
speed up, cock plowing into him with such force it renewed his moans beyond that of the
delirious whimpers they had dissolved to. The pressure in his hole grew and a small voice in
his mind idly told him that he was about to be knotted, the packmaster grunting as Eric’s hole
fluttered around the bulbous knot locking them together.

The gushing of hot cum filling him to his limit and then past that forced another orgasm from
him and Eric’s eyes rolled backwards, the last thing he saw was the wolf grinning down at
him, dark locks sweaty but eyes satisfied his breath tickling the shell of Eric’s ear as he
spoke.

“I am the changing tide Eric Northman. You may call me Harry Black.”

Coming to Eric felt utterly and completely exhausted, his body hurting in places that had
never ached before and his ass still gaping wide, his natural healing abilities having not
kicked in yet strangely enough but the burn was pleasant. Opening his eyes he stared at his
rounded belly, the once previously tight skin curved with what could only be cum. Hesitantly
touching the warm skin that differed from the rest of him and Eric moaned, hand slipping to
touch between his cheeks where the liquid was slowly trickling out until he pried four fingers
inside and the flood of cum erupted outward.

Back arching the vampire panted as what felt like galleons of werewolf cum flowed from him
to settle then drip from the sides of the table and he watched as his belly slowly began to
deflate. He could feel Pam approaching through the link and there was no stopping his
progeny from coming inside, nor was there stopping the feeling of humiliation as she gasped
in horror upon seeing him in such a state. He probably looked like a discarded whore with his
legs spread wide, hole an opened sloppy wreck and enough cum to knock up every female on
Bon Temps dribbling from him.

“Oh Eric… what… why .”

He nuzzled into her hand when she came closer to cradle his face, red tears running down her
cheeks to drip onto his face. Pam was still young despite the age she was turned at, and he
wanted to shield her from most of it but he knew eventually he would have to explain.

“He would have killed us both had I not.” Eric murmured to her, hand petting her soft tresses.
Harry would be back he knew that much and Eric could not wait to bathe in the blood that
would no doubt spill because of the wolf.

"I am the changing tide."

 Pam blinked in confusion, tissue dabbing at the blood which clung to her cheeks "What?"

"It's what he said, I don't know what it means however." she gave him a frustrated squint of
the eyes and he chuckled, hand moving lower to rub at his stomach that still held a tiny and
barely noticeable curve. "He also said he has plans for me."

Pam bristled like a cat threatened with water "What plans?"

Eric poked at the slight rise of his lower abdomen with a gentle finger tip "We'll just have to
see."

Chapter End Notes

Happy New Year!

 Harry/Oliver Queen
Chapter Summary

A massage therapist is hired, Oliver gets some tension worked out of him. (Harry/Oliver,
Arrow)

Chapter Notes
See the end of the chapter for notes

He might have been a bit busy with life at the moment, the whole running a city by day as
mayor and then being a vigilante of justice at night but he was handling it okay?

Sure the long hours with little rest got to him sometimes and he often took his exhaustion and
frustration out on unsuspecting criminals with more force than needed but no one on his team
could say that he slipped up, because if there was one thing that Oliver Queen could do it was
multi-task.

Yes sometimes he may fall asleep at his desk in the Mayor’s office, and there were several
occasions where he fell asleep behind the wheel and one memorable moment he did so during
an important ceremony. Sure his body ached something fierce and muscles freaking hurt with
the simplest of actions but Oliver knew how to power through pain.

So while he realized that maybe he could use a couple days to recuperate and sleep away the
exhaustion and frustration before it got the best of him he also knew his body and his mental
state better than anyone, so no he did not need a day off like his friends were suggesting
because he was Oliver Queen aka the freaking Green Arrow!

“Sir?”

The low but smooth voice brought him back from his inner monologue and Oliver blinked at
the man standing outside his door whose head was tilted to the side slightly, a worry line
creasing his forehead or maybe he was wondering if Oliver was a nut-job.

“Yes?” he asked lamely and the man laughed a little, covering his mouth to not seem
impolite. Reaching into the front pocket of his v-neck shirt, a pretty mellow green thing made
of light material that showed off more chest than was strictly professional and did absolutely
nothing to hide his biceps that flexed with the movement of holding out the card.

Taking the standard rectangular piece of card he looked down at the details that cataloged one
Mr. Harrison James Potter, professional massage therapist with several numbers and names at
the back for references. Oliver blinked in surprise “I didn’t request a masseuse Mr. Potter. I
am afraid you have the wrong address.”
Harrison hummed and retrieved a sleek black phone from the pocket of his grey sweat pants,
Oliver’s eyes trailing lower down his body until they settled at the impressive if not
frightening print that rested to the side.

“You are Mr. Queen are you not? Your friends John Diggle. Felicity Smoak and Roy Harper
hired me for the day to provide you with a massage.”

He hated his friends.

“I was made to sign a contract but that was hardly strange given your status, I have also
already been paid and the last thing I want is to be seen as a thief for not providing the
service I was paid for sir.”

Oliver sighed and rubbed his forehead feeling a headache coming on. Casting another look at
the man before him who was slightly taller, green eyes amused because no doubt he could see
how at odds he was between disowning his friends versus thanking them.

Stepping to the side Oliver motioned for him to come inside and Harrison smiled brightly at
him, reaching off to the side to pick up a huge folded table and a duffel bag, murmuring an
‘excuse me’ as he walked past Oliver and into the spacious penthouse.

Oliver observed as the hired masseuse set up his space, the table unfolding and was actually a
lot bigger than he had anticipated with a smaller one being detached from it, a few candles
placed on the surface along with a bottle and a couple salves.

“If you don’t mind Mr. Queen can you undress now please.” Harry stated after spreading a
white towel down over the table’s surface.

“Call me Oliver, Mr. Queen was my father.” pulling the hoodie over his head he shed his
pants and underwear next before climbing on-top of the table laying face down, the candles
having been lit and already the aroma had him relaxing.

“You can call me Harry, no one but my professors have ever called me Harrison.”

Oliver could hear the mirth in Harry’s voice and he mumbled an affirmative, not willing to
raise his head up from the comfortable position it was in.

“I will begin now Oliver. Ms. Smoak has also told me to tell you that should you try to leave
before it is finished then she will release blackmail video number 64. Sorry.”

Oliver groaned because of course the woman had more blackmail material on him but
seconds later Oliver groaned for a completely different reason when Harry pressed oil slicked
knuckles into his back signally the beginning of the massage.

The oil had the faint scent of cocoa-butter with an undercurrent of a herb he couldn’t put a
finger on but whatever it was, it did magical things to his body. The longer it settled on his
skin the hotter it felt and for his aching muscles it was perhaps the best feeling in the world.

“Oh god…” he moaned when the aches and pains slowly disappeared leaving his back
feeling several years younger and Harry chuckled, the slippery slide of his slightly calloused
hands dragging further down Oliver’s body until they settled on his thighs.

Oliver groaned again as knots and tensed muscles in his hamstring were undone, tension
leaking away under the experienced fingers and maybe, just maybe he would hold off of
revoking friendship privileges from John, Felicity and Roy.

A match was drawn and another candle lit, this one slightly bitter to the senses but then
changed to a mellow scent that made Oliver squirm minutes later. Oliver could feel a familiar
haze of being slight high drifting over his mind, the feeling not strong enough to rouse
suspicion, just a tingling fog of relaxation that his body followed without question.

His hips were paid attention to, then his ass cheeks, the muscled area being squeezed and
kneaded hard enough that Oliver groaned lowly when he felt his cock react, the length
already at half mass where it was pressed against the table and towel.

“Can you roll over for me Oliver?” Harry soft voice cut through the embarrassment and
Oliver shook his head, lifting one hand wave in the general direction he believed his crotch to
be. “I’ve got a uh - situation.”

Harry chuckled and pressed his thumbs under the meat of Oliver’s ass, the area sending
another spark of heat into his belly as it was kneaded. “The reaction is perfectly normal
Oliver. You have no reason to be embarrassed.”

Groaning he rolled over onto his back, cock resting against his thigh and he covered his eyes
with an arm as Harry continued with his feet, long fingers pressing into his soles and under
his toes, Oliver biting his lip to withhold a whimper as the pain was relieved.

Harry’s hands moved further up his body to pressed into his thighs once more, an oil wet
hand gentle grasping his dick to rest it to his belly instead but the brief contact was enough to
make Oliver keen.

He didn’t want to think about the last time he had sex because the number of months would
only serve to depress him.

His thighs were spread a bit wider and the moan Oliver let out this time was nothing short of
erotic, paying little mind to more blood rushing south. The bliss he felt rivaled none and soon
enough he felt he might as well be goo under Harry’s talented hands, hands that were now
travelling over his abdomen, pressing into the tight core and tender sides then to Oliver
chest.

“Shit!” biting his lip he shuddered as his pecs were groped and squeezed, nipples being
pinched and rubbed until they were hard and sensitive. Oliver’s cock let out an appreciative
dribble of precum and he felt his embarrassment sky-rocket as the clear liquid ran down his
belly, his legs spread wider under their own violation as the nipples were tweaked and
twisted.

Peaking out from under his arm he could see the nubs glistening with oil and perked, the
action seeming all too erotic for him but felt much too good for him to say stop. Harry’s
hands moving lower and lower until -
 “Fuck!”

Arching off the table when his cock was grabbed again but this time with purpose, the large
hand squeezing the hard length as the next rolled his balls underneath. Quickly without losing
momentum more slick was squeezed into Harry’s hands and Oliver watched as his cock was
stroked in a tight fist, thumb rubbing the leaking tip and smearing more fresh oil over the
slit.

“Y-You… what are you- hgnn!” Oliver gasped when a lone finger slipped between his cheeks
to rub at his hole, the slippery pomade against his pucker effectively short circuiting his brain
to the point where if not for the sudden pressure he would not have noticed it slipping in.

“Ah!” the finger moved slowly in him and Oliver’s eyes rolled back slightly as his insides
were massaged as well, the digit reaching deep in places he nor anyone had ever ventured to
before. His hips were moving on their own, thrusting into the tight fist that enveloped his
cock and Oliver could only watched through blurry eyes as Harry stroked him faster.

“Mhmm! Shi-ah!” another finger was pushed in, the slide of the two digits in him almost
surreal and Oliver spread his legs wider when a third breached him soon after. This was better
and worse than that high, his body feeling as though it were on fire and the only way to sate
the heat was to let go.

Harry’s finger pressed to an area inside of him that made stars appear in the periphery of his
vision, hips chasing the intense feeling with the drive of a madman and Harry indulged him,
rubbing wet circles against it until Oliver was shouting his release, thick white ropes shooting
from the wet tip and onto his face and Harry’s hand, the previously relaxed muscles tensing
as he nearly bowed off the table.

Harry retracted his fingers and gave Oliver a silken smile “Shall we continue Oliver?”

The hard thick line in the grey sweat pants made Oliver’s head swim and he whimpered a soft
“Yes.”

Chapter End Notes

Is anyone familiar with the 2019 tv series Warrior? I just came to realize that it might
just be a generally unknown series and I've gone ahead and written an entire smutty
chapter already.

Anywho, I have several chapters written with pairings requested already and yes I am
thinking about expanding some of the pairings, still unsure whether in the Saga or in a
separate fic. I'm trying to update every 5 days C:

As always your comments are very welcomed, as well as any prompts and pairings you
would like to see. Thanks for the love so far~
 Harry/Ragnar Lothbrok
Chapter Summary

Ragnar dislikes the Saxons but he likes Harry. He likes Harry even more when he's
rough (Harry/Ragnar. Vikings)

Harold privately known as Harry stared up at the beautiful human he had taken for himself at
a whim. Maybe the word ‘beautiful’ was perhaps too soft of a word for the Viking man who
was all hard lines and harsh words spoken in a tongue he was still learning by the day but to
Harold he was one of the most stunning creatures he had laid eyes on since coming to the
new world.

During his two decades or so within Northumbria first as a simple man, then as one who
performed ‘miracles of healing’ for the common people he soon had the attention of the
royals and most annoyingly King Aelle on him.

Though the support of the most powerful man in the kingdom wasn’t too bad, he had riches,
prestige and was a Hand of the King, having more say than most of the man’s advisors who
held him in contempt since he first arrived.

They had called for his head, called him a ‘witch’ that used black magic - and it was
laughable because they were not too far off. King Aelle had ignored them and here Harry
was, being ridden by a former Viking King who had conquered and sieged Paris and
destroyed other towns under the guise of riches but Harry saw deeper into the blue eyed
Viking.

This man thirsted for knowledge like a man would water after traversing the desert for days
with none.

What had drove Harry to declare he wanted the dying Viking for himself he did not know,
perhaps it was the intense shade of blue as he welcomed death or even the fact that it would
unnerve the people within the castle and court he had their most terrifying enemy just behind
lock and key.

Whatever it was he could hardly see himself turning away the man now, not after he did
indeed heal him and bring him back from welcoming his precious Valhalla. Excellent shape
he was in now compared to when he first arrived. Maybe not tip top because while he could
have healed him immediately he chose to take his time, to let the viking get used to his touch
and voice, to his presence and to establish his position over him.

Over the course of traversing worlds Harry was amused to admit that he had become a bit of
a sadist, and who better to exercise such a fetish on but a man who lived for blood and death
while screaming the name of his All Father.

Harry wasn’t without his quirks however, and to keep up appearance of being the ‘master’
over the ‘filthy viking dog’ he had made sure Ragnar in his brief instances out of the
extensive chambers and adjoining library was well groomed. He could do nothing about the
beautiful ink that was etched into his skin and head though the hair had grown back in and
covered most of it.

The former king had given Harry what could have been called a vision inducing blow job in
order to convince him to let him maintain the mohawk and some beard, just not the ragged
thing he had been found with upon his chin. Harry would have let him have both even
without Ragnar sucking his soul and magic from his cock but who was he to deny a starving
man.

Ragnar rolled his hips and tried to focus on anything but the pleasure building within him. He
tried counting how many stars had been painted on one section of the walls within Harold’s
chambers or how many leaves the forest on the left wall carried but the Anglo-Saxon doctor
was persistent in his pillaging, hard cock never once missing the spot within him which sent
scalding heat throughout his body.

His own length was hard and straining against his scarred abdomen, the tip an angry red
bordering on purple that was painful as it leaked for every roll of his body.

He never had any inclination towards being fucked by a man, of course he was more than
ready to do the fucking but no one stirred the lust within him enough to allow himself to be
bent over like a woman and penetrated. He had fought the Anglo-Saxon the first time the
man had proposed it, had fought him even as he spoke logic of loosening his body before
sex.

Odin knew he fought him until he came from the man’s fingers in a shocking bellow as his
balls clenched and he came for the first time in months, the built up frustration exploding
forth and from fingers within his asshole no less.

He felt less of a man, and though he had wanted to bed Athelstan he never considered how it
would have made his dead friend feel.

That had been months ago, the seasons changing several times now and the feeling of
inferiority had long since washed from his mind with the changing of the tide. Harold’s cock
was a comfort he never knew he needed and the Anglo-Saxon gave into his every demand,
smiling as he did so as if it amused him to be ordered around by Ragnar, and perhaps it did
because from the snippets he could hear from the maids Harold was a powerful man, nearly
as powerful as King Aelle.

The green eyed man, gaze as sharp as an eagles and intense as a serpents let Ragnar boss him
around just for his very own amusement, just as he let Ragnar take sex from his body and
food from his plate.

He shivered as calloused fingers dragged along his body over old and healed scars, to the
puckered flesh where some of the venom had destroyed the tissue according to Harry, then to
his nipples; fingers teasing the nubs, twisting them until he moaned in pain, cock twitching
and leaking more pre-cum against his abdomen.

The man was as calm as ever, and in the changing seasons he had yet to see him lose his
composure despite being run ragged by the King’s orders, coming back to the chambers just
to be pounced on by Ragnar then for it to repeat over again. Sometimes he would watch the
man as he slept so deeply, arms wrapped around Ragnar’s body as exhaustion forced him into
slumber.

Harold wasn’t human, that much Ragnar knew. There were times he would see the green eyes
glow - not by some trick of the fireplace or the lantern or sunlight. No, they would glow an
unholy green that spoke of death and destruction if he was particularly irritated or sometimes
when he in a rare moment of dominance fucked Ragnar into unconsciousness.

The former viking king shuddered at the most recent memory, the small sounds he wanted to
contain slipping out the longer he remained seated on the throbbing length that was snug
within him. He wouldn’t scream like a woman, he refused to stoop that low, but his body
ached and so his lips were loose from pleasure.

Every now and then, hardly twice per season Harry would take from his body, hours long
fucking sessions and no matter how much he pleaded for a break he would be gripped in a
supernaturally tight hold and held down upon whatever surface they were on and pounded.

Be it bed, floor, wall, table or washing tub.

He was always fucked thoroughly when Harry got into that mood, fucked until all he could
do was moan, cum and cry.

During those times Harry was a force to be reckoned with, no one dared to enter or interrupt,
not after a royal advisor was killed and though Harry had yet to remove his cock from within
Ragnar’s body, the sword from one end of the room flew and impaled the red faced man to
the wall, the steel slicing through his body like butter and embedded itself into the wall
several inches deep.

Others had seen it happen too, servants and guards that tried to stop the man from
interrupting them, eye witnesses who stopped King Aelle from having to place the man on
trial for murder just to please those who hated Harold.

Harry had barely given the dying man a single glance before he continued on, commanding a
guard to close the door after they managed to yank the sword and by consequence the man
from the wall.

After those sessions Ragnar often felt so sloppy on the inside, his stomach distended just a bit
from what he knew to be Harold’s seed, the man always taking great pleasure in caressing the
tiny rise of his belly. He was ashamed to admit that those rare times Harry did consume him,
when the Anglo-Saxon doctor took him over and over again until he couldn’t cry out the All
Father’s name and could only lie limp while the thick cock fucked and filled his deepest part
he loved it as much as he feared it.
Harry sat up in one smooth movement, muscled abdomen clenching, his tongue licking a wet
stripe over Ragnar’s nipple - the nubs overly sensitive recently to the point where a cotton
shirt was the only thing he would wear outside of the chambers. Ragnar moaned aloud as the
bud was sucked, Harry kneading his chest as a babe would to its mother.

“Ha..rreh…” his lips were covered next and he leaned into the kiss, hands going to his hips
and all but forced him to bounce on the cock deep inside him.

“We will be going on a trip to my estate in a few days. I will have to travel back and forth
between it and here but you will remain for the majority of the time.”

Ragnar barely heard him over his own pants and moans, eye rolling backwards as he came,
his seed dripping down Harry’s chest and the man hummed, a smile upon his lips as he took
his pleasure, the warmth from his come filling Ragnar and once again his hand was settled on
his lower abdomen.

“Why are we leaving?” Ragnar asked after his heart ceased trying to escape his chest. Harry
already in the process of wiping him down with a wet cloth.

The hummed as he dragged his bright green gaze over Ragnar’s naked tattooed body “You
will see.”
 Harry/Eddie Diaz
Chapter Summary

Some fluff, some whump then some sweetness. (Harry/Eddie, 9-1-1 (2017) )

Chapter Notes
See the end of the chapter for notes

I can see clearly now the rain has gone~

I can see all the obstacles in my wayyy

Eddie pulled the tacos from the oven before dancing over to the fridge and poked the top of
the tres dulce leche cake, hips shaking as he moved back to the tacos, placing them on a wide
plate that was center to the rest of the food.

“Daddy is this okay?” Christopher held up the bowl of grated cheese that he had been
working on diligently for the past forty minutes or so and Eddie made a sound of agreement,
ruffling his son’s hair and taking the grated cheese.

“This is perfect buddy, thank you.” Christopher beamed and Eddie felt that despite the rough
two years the boy was finally back to his old self.

Shannon’s death had hit Eddie hard but not nearly as hard as it had hit the then seven year old
boy. He had hidden it well from everyone, even Eddie but there was only so much a child
could withhold before the carefully placed wall came crumbling down.

Running to the bedroom he opened the closet, rummaging through the various shirts before
holding up two, changing into both in the mirror before choosing the soft grey one that was
well worn and used but still looked new weirdly enough.

The doorbell rang and before the fireman could leave the bedroom he heard the shrill cry of
“Uncle Harry!” and the image of his now nine year old son in the arms of his boyfriend was
one he would remember for years if not decades to come.

Moving a bit slower as to give Christopher enough time to get one of the many hugging
sessions in; Eddie accepted the kiss to his cheek, tickling his son when the boy giggled.
Peering up at Harry he smiled, taking the man’s hand in his own to tug him towards the
table.

“We’re having a party?” Harry asked as his green eyes stared at the table full of food plus
more within the kitchen.
“I uh -”

“Dad said he’s gonna introduce you to everyone!” Christopher explained and Eddie ducked
his head at Harry’s raised brow of surprise.

“I… I hope you don’t mind. I should’ve told you but it was sudden and I don’t - I don’t want
to keep you a secret anymore. I want you to meet my family, my firehouse family and - and
be able to -”

Eddie was hushed with a kiss and he blinked in surprise only to get another in return until he
chuckled, Harry’s calloused palm cradling his face.

“Edmundo Diaz I would be honored to meet your family.” Eddie returned the kiss and
hugged the taller man, hand moving to ruffle Christopher’s hair from where the boy was
seated at the table grinning up at them.

“Christopher buddy why don’t you go and find a pants and shirt you want to wear so I can
help you put it on yea?”

Christopher hummed and slipped from the chair “Okay Daddy.” and both Harry and Eddie
watched the boy turn the corner.

“You’re exhausted.” it wasn’t and question and Harry did not bother to treat it like one, only
shrugging and giving Eddie that stupid dopey grin.

“I’m close Eddie. I’m so close, but there’s something I’m missing and I know it’s right there
but I can’t seem to see it and it’s driving me up the wall.”

“You’ll find it, you always do. When was the last time you slept?” his hands slipped the
jacket from the man’s shoulders to throw it over the back of a chair before helping to undo
the rest of the three piece suit. Never did he think he would be dating someone as
phenomenal as Harry, much less someone who owned the city’s largest hospital.

“I’ll get some after the party, I promise.”

“Harry-” Eddie made a sharp noise in the back of his throat when his butt was pinched “I
promise Eddie.”

Rolling up the shirt sleeves of the dress shirt Harry pressed a kiss to the fireman’s forehead
“Now how about you rescue Chris from his closet of superhero shirts and let me help you
clean up some of the dirty dishes before everyone comes.”

Eddie huffed but did just that, finding his only child staring at three different shirts of Tony
Stark and unable to pick one. Eddie laughed silently when the boy whined and told him to
pick one for him only to veto the choice. It was a few more minutes before the blue one was
chosen and a pants as well that Christopher was happy with the options and honestly, Eddie
was never so happy to have him as his kid.

The sound of a dish being broken made him stand from where he was crouched and
Christopher tilted his head.
“Harry?” he called out and from the distance the other man should have been able to hear him
since the house was not that big.

“Harry!” standing he brushed a hand over Christopher’s hair “I’ll be back buddy, try to find
your watch, the one that Auntie Hen gave you.”

Moving back towards the kitchen he frowned when he didn’t see the tall figure of his
boyfriend until he caught sight of a foot on the ground.

“Harry?!” running over he avoided the broken casserole dish, hand pressing along Harry’s
neck. “Harry? Hey, baby, open your eyes for me.”

He rolled Harry over gently and whimpered at the sight of blood on the man’s lip. His
breathing shallow wheezing breaths and his face scrunched in pain.

“Harry please, open your eyes for me baby-” his other hand fumbled to get his phone from
the back pocket of the jeans, punching in 9-1-1 and waiting the three agonizing seconds for
someone to pick up.

“9-1-1 what is your emergency?”

“Help me, m-my boyfriend he’s - there’s blood on his lips and his breathing is shallow and
he’s not waking up.”

“Can you tell me your location?”

“P-Palm View Central number uh- number 22. I don’t know what’s wrong. When I left him
in the kitchen he was fine and then I heard a dish break and found him on the ground and -”

“I’ve sent ambulance to your location sir.” There was a pause before “Wait… Eddie? Eddie
is that you?”

“Maddie? Maddie! Oh God Harry’s -”

“Daddy?”

Eddie turned his body to see Christopher staring at the unconscious man whose head was
resting on his lap, grey eyes wide with a horror that Eddie never wanted to see in his boy’s
eyes.

“Chris -”

“Daddy what’s wrong with Harry?”

For once he couldn’t give his son an answer and Eddie shook his head “I don’t know. Auntie
Maddie is sending an ambulance to help.”

“Eddie? Can you tell me what his skin is like? Cold, clammy?”
“He’s sweating and pale… he looks like he’s in pain.” Eddie felt like crying because it was
like deja vu back to that city street where Shannon had died, but he couldn’t cry because
Christopher was there watching.

“In pain… can you gently prod along his chest? Where his heart is, light touches should do.”

Eddie did as instructed and though he had medical training and could scale a burning
building that was tilted side ways his brain felt empty, any knowledge about what to do, what
he should have known to do was lost, knowledge he should have been able to remember now
blank in the face of his panic. Pressing gently over Harry’s heart he watched as the reaction
was instantaneous, the green eyes flew open and the man lurched to side to vomit what little
he had eaten.

The scent of stomach acid was strong but Eddie could care less because Harry looked as
though he had been shot and was dying.

“Eddie?”

“H-He… chest pain yea. He also vomited.”

Maddie was silent for a moment before her voice filtered back through the phone. “It’s
possible he may have an aortic sissection Eddie. Sweaty skin, nausea, chest pain, shortness
and wheezing of breath… though the blood on his lips may be a complication to blood
having gone to his lungs. He’s going to need surgery immediately if I’m correct about the
prognosis.”

“W-what -”

“You told us that Harry is a CEO yes? But he also works in the lab? It’s possible the
hypertension caused this, stress coupled with exhaustion are major inducers or maybe blunt
force, was he in any accidents recently?”

“He said… he said he got into a small one and his car needed repair but it wasn’t anything
serious..”

“We can’t know for sure but it may have torn the inner wall of his aorta. Try to keep him
awake.”

“Harry?” the green eyes were unfocused but somehow managed to turn in his direction, the
shaky and pain filled smile on his lips enough to make Eddie return one back, eyes blurring a
bit with tears. Harry’s wheezing was becoming worse and Eddie could see more blood on his
lips with every exhale.

“Don’t you dare die on me Potter. You hear me?”

The sound of sirens outside his house and then the heavy footsteps of people made him look
up to see the paramedics in his kitchen and Christopher missing. Eddie was numb as Harry
was loaded onto a gurney, nicely expensive shirt cut open to reveal a nasty looking bruise on
his chest that had not been there the last time they spent the night together a week ago.
“You said it was a small accident! Harry!” he followed them out of the door the same time
Buck and the others arrived in their respective carpools, each of his friends rushing out and
Hen going straight for Christopher who was standing by the door.

“Sir we need to go are you coming are not?”

Eddie was torn but Hen made it easier when she motioned him to go and so he did.

The surgery took hours and by the time he was informed that Harry was resting in the ICU
section of the hospital it was well past six in the evening. Chimney and Bobby sat on both
sides of him in the waiting room, silent support and Athena had stopped by with three bags of
food each before returning to her shift, the soft kiss she placed on his cheek making him ache
for his own mother's affections at a time like this.

Harry didn’t have any family, or at least any family he was comfortable speaking about and
as far a Eddie knew he and Christopher were the only people that could be classified as
family for the man by default.

Going to the room he paused at the door and the tears he had held back finally spilled free,
the nurse patting his back in what he supposed would have been comfort.

Sitting by his bedside careful of all the wire and tubes Eddie took the large hand in his and
pressed a kiss to it. The same hand that had saved Christopher from tripping while they
shopped for groceries well over a year ago.

"How could you do something so stupid huh? Do you have any idea how terrified I was?
How scared Chris is?" he asked and the only respond he received were the continuous beeps
from the machines.

Harry was the one who helped him piece back together his life after Shannon, the pieces the
team couldn't fit and glue back for him, the ones that Christopher noticed and did his best to
help but could never fill.

Harry asked for nothing and gave everything. His time, his patience, even going so far as to
pay for an expensive surgery for Christopher and most important of all his love.
Unconditionally and consistently he gave and gave and now Eddie was at a lost what to do
because there was no fire to put out and no one he could save.

"Eddie..." looking up he hurried to wipe the tears from his eyes, Bobby laying a hand on his
shoulder to stop him.

"There's no shame in crying, especially around us." it was a gentle reprimand that Eddie took
with a wobbly smile and he could practically see Bobby's shoulder slump.

"Oh kid. It's going to be okay. The doctor said his recovery should be unhindered as long as
there is no infection and he will be kept for a few days to a week for observation. But he's
young and in good physical shape so she does not think any complications will arise
alright?"
 Eddie nodded and hesitated a bit before allowing Bobby to pull him into a hug. The captain
was a strict man but he was also incredibly gentle.

He had no clue as to when he fell asleep but he woke up to a hand gently carding through his
hair, Eddie blinked awake to stare at Harry who gave him his stupid dopey grin, the one that
made a dimple appear on his right cheek and softened his features a bit.

Eddie despite his best efforts whimpered and Harry’s eyes widened when fresh tears slipped
down Eddie’s cheeks, panic settling clearly in his green eyes and he made an abortive move
to sit up only to yelp.

“Idiota!” Eddie admonished, placing a hand on his middle to get him to stay still, and Harry
gave a him a small albeit weak smile as Eddie rattled off in Spanish to help mask some of his
worry.

Harry reached up, slipping two fingers into the collar of the fireman's shirt to pull him down
so he could press a soft slightly chapped kiss to his forehead “I know. I love you too."

Chapter End Notes

I swear I love Eddie and canonically I ship him with Buck so freaking hard, but here he's
all Harry's.

His relationship with Christopher is adorable and really if you haven't watched 9-1-1 as
of yet you really should, though Eddie doesn't appear until the 2nd season.

May have had incorrect medical information, I did my best with google I swear.
Feedback as usual is alwaaays appreciated!
 Harry/Bruce Wayne
Chapter Summary

"Rich people are crazy."

Harry had to agree that Ron might just be onto something. (Harry/Bruce, The Dark
Knight)

Harry stepped inside the dimly lit room, his footsteps the only sound to be heard as he
continued down an even darker corridor before a door opened to reveal the coveted club he
heard so much about from his business associates.

The half mask on his face, a requirement to enter would hide his identity from the other men
in the area who barely cast him a glance from behind their own masks, and he settled down
on a comfortable one-seater couch that gave him a full view of the room.

It was a Gentleman’s Club in the loosest of sense. A club for the filthy rich who knew no
better way to waste their money than on entertainment based on humans and sex.

The men and women hired were not even slaves but instead people of pedigree breeding and
equal standing who all wanted to be degraded and humiliated by strangers who could very
well be signing a contract with them tomorrow..

The masks protected the buyers as well as the coveted pets. No one could blackmail you if
they didn’t know your identity, and even so it would be hard to do so without exposing
themselves.

Contracts had to be signed and a fee of 25K paid upfront. Small pocket change for the
stupidly rich, Harry knew himself was included.

“Champagne, scotch or wine sir?”

He looked up at the woman dressed in a slinky golden dress that exposed more leg than it did
breasts and he reached out and took the tumbler of brown liquer off the offered tray, the
woman who barely looked older than twenty gave him a slow smile before sauntering off to
another guest.

Gotham for all that it was a city full of crime, super villains and the one place anyone could
definitely guarantee to find themselves kidnapped or killed in a blink of an eye certainly had
one of the most entertaining under bellies.

“If I could have your attention gentlemen! The auction is about to begin!”
The same waitress came by again with a black paper paddle with the number 31 painted in
white on both sides, and refilling his glass with an extra ice piece. Harry had heard about the
auction, a lucrative bidding that sometimes went well into six figure digits for whoever was
on the stage. Ron was right, rich people were certainly crazy.

Snorting he hid his amusement behind the glass, a small stage up front displaying a woman in
barely there lingerie, breasts heavy and mask hiding any prominent features other than her
blond hair done up in a jeweled top knot.

“The bidding shall begin at 1 million!”

Almost immediately the numbers rose until they settled at 20 million and the next attraction
for the evening was bought out. Harry had yet to raise his paddle, not to say the women and
some men were not beautiful or bodies not attractive they just did not call out to him.

The proceedings continued and he found himself sipping at his third glass of aged scotch, the
tingle at the back of his throat that told him to slow down was ignored for now and Harry
watched the show through half lidded eyes and little to no interest.

“Next we have Darling!” the auctioneer announced, waving dramatically at the stage until a
man came out to stand on the platform for a few seconds before lowering himself to his
knees.

Harry could feel his interest pique instantaneously, the rush of clarity that chased away the
tipsy haze made him sit even straighter, tumbler forgotten in place of the paddle.

His green eyes dragged slowly over the muscled body of the man, black leather slave harness
complimenting his skin tone and the leather pressing into his body in just the right places. His
eyes were particularly drawn to the man’s chest, the pecs large and hard nipples protruding
slightly more due to the leather pressing into the skin.

His cock twitched and he barely waited until the announcement of 6 million starting bid was
declared before he doubled it.

Darling looked over to him from behind the black half mask, pink lips curling as he leaned
back on his haunches, the leather backless t-back straining over the erection he was sporting,
showing off, provoking.

Harry had to admit, Darling certainly knew how to play the crowd, the men in the area going
wild when he spread his legs a bit wider and let out what might be the most obscene moan
Harry would ever hear.

“27 million!”

“30 million!”

“38 million!”

The numbers continued to steadily rise as the men themselves stood and shouted the numbers
leaving the auctioneer a bit stunned on stage while Darling looked rather pleased with
himself as he lounged on his side on the stage, like a huge cat overlooking silly prey from the
branches above.

Standing Harry slowly maneuvered himself through the crowd of men until he stood less than
a foot away from the stage, Darling perking up slightly and his blue eyes behind the mask
trailing over Harry’s body.

He knew he looked good, not in a fit of narcissism but because Draco had dressed him, the
blond taking personal satisfaction in being able to style and force him to wear whatever he
pleased simply because he felt like it.

Not that Harry had much room for objection, he was fashion blind as much as he was legally
blind without his glasses.

“One hundred and fifty million.”

The blue eyes widened behind the mask as his voice seemed to cut through the noise, the
crowd growing silent and the auctioneer tapping the gravel on the podium once with a loud
crack when no one contested the amount.

Not that it was a large amount but no one was willing to spend that much on a simple man,
Harry however could see something that they could not and it made the hardened length
trapped in the black slacks he wore throb.

“Darling goes to Number 31!”

“Sir?” Harry broke the stare off he and Darling were having to glance at another woman
dressed in a dark blue dress, a clipboard in hand with a man obviously meant to fulfill the
‘muscle’ part of the equation. “This way please.”

He followed after Darling who was led to the back. Taking out his black card he swiped it,
his signature being placed in a thick stack of paper that basically told him his rights and
limitations as well as those of the entertainment that was bought.

He watched as a black collar was attached to Darling’s neck accompanied by a sturdy leash
that was placed in his hand, the thick cord of the lead heavy but the man on the other end of it
looked content behind the mask, blue eyes lowered to half mass and body relaxed even if his
cock strained under the t-back.

Harry, the man who had no respect for contracts and secrecy had revealed his name and face
the moment they stepped foot inside the luxury loft apartment, mask being taken off and
dropped on a table with a “Hello, my name is Harry, and what’s yours?”

The genuine politeness had surprised a laugh out of him and after he was finished he
straightened his back and held out his hand, his own mask in hand “Bruce.”

It had been amusing watching the flicker of pleasant bewilderment when he responded alike
but Bruce could hardly help it, the question had been expected but never so childlike and
honest, many men wanted to know his name simply for business advantages that he would
never give.

The pleasantries had ended there however and Bruce had found himself soon after on his
hands and knees, back arched and ass in the air trembling from the assault on his hole.

Harry as it turned out was a lover of fore-play and Bruce found himself coming twice before
the other even deemed to undo his pants.

The heavy slap of what was undeniably the man’s cock tapping against his loosened hole
made Bruce clench a bit and Harry draped himself over his sweaty back, fingers brushing the
fringe of dark hair away from his eyes.

“You decide how the first time will be.” he murmured and Bruce shivered at the sound of his
voice, feeling for the first time in years like he was back at boarding school and experiencing
his first blowjob then giving his first as well.

It was cliche and a bit silly because here he was, a 35 year old man who was just auctioned
off to a complete stranger at an underground ‘gentleman’s club’ simply because he had half a
day free tomorrow and needed some frustration to be released.

Normally by now he would be on his way back to his penthouse in the city after a quick and
probably rough fuck leaving his bought partner asleep in whatever lavish hotel he was
dragged to, but here he was on orgasm number two and a stranger - Harry, telling him to
choose how he wanted to be fucked.

Bruce chuckled into the mattress his hips rolling so the heavy presence of the cock pressed
between his cheeks rubbed along the crease, just before turning onto his back and spread his
legs wide so the twitching bud nestled between was exposed.

“I want it like this… I want you like this please.” the leather harness had long been striped
from his body and Harry had licked each area that the straps had pressed against, his nipples
especially still tingled from the onslaught of an eager tongue.

Harry hummed and took off his glasses, the spectacles being placed on the bedside table and
Bruce watched as the man took off each piece of clothing, the dark green pin stripped waist
coat, the black dress shirt and finally the slacks came off leaving him as naked as Bruce.

Harry was a marvelous man that much Bruce could see and when the other hovered into his
space, lips pressing invisible marks along his skin before teasing his lips Bruce opened to the
kiss, legs to wrapping around the tapered waist.

He moaned into the kiss as he felt the blunt pressure of Harry’s cock press to his hole before
it slipped inside, the lube covering the length helping to draw a long deep moan from Bruce
as he was filled to the brim more than he had ever been before.

“Big… you’re so big…”

Harry only pressed another light kiss to Bruce’s temple, hips rolling to send the remainder
few inches inside until he was nestled in balls deep. The tightness and wet pressure around
him was delicious, almost as much as the small sounds the man under him was making.

“Such a good boy you are Bruce.”

The pace was slow at first and Harry let him get used to the girth of his cock as the walls
clung to it almost impossibly tight. Bruce was keening, hands tangled in both the sheets and
Harry’s hair before he pulled away and leaned back leaving Bruce to clutch the sheets alone.

“Spread your legs for me love.” Harry murmured and watched as Bruce’s muscular thighs
were spread wide enough until he could see the pink hole being stretched wide around his
cock, the lube coating it glistening and wet sounds came from where they were joined each
time he pushed in deep.

“I am going to fuck you now.” there was no room for negotiation, a kiss being pressed to
each ankle before Harry grasped it to push Bruce’s legs back but still open, his cock sliding
out until just the tip remained inside and Bruce had a three second grace period to brace
himself before Harry slammed it back inside.

Bruce felt as though he was about to die from pleasure alone.

Eyes rolling back he shuddered as the cock fucking deep into him rubbed against his prostate,
the nub of nerves oversensitive at that point and it barely took him a few seconds more before
he was coming again, white painting his chest and hole clenching down in a vice grip around
Harry.

Harry wasn’t deterred and fucked him right through the orgasm and post bliss until he was
writhing and crying out again. Bruce’s spent cock was slowly revived again with every
intentional prod of his prostate and only when he was fully hard again did Harry allow his
cock to slide against the over-sensitive set of nerves.

Bruce felt as though he was delirious with fever and riding a never ending high all at the
same time. Harry sped up and Bruce arched off the bed, hands scrambling to find purchase in
the sheets or Harry’s arms that still held his thighs open.

“What do you say Bruce?” Harry sounded breathless but his hands tightened around the meat
of Bruce’s thighs where they had slipped lower.

“Th-thank you!” Bruce gasped out and was reward was a near brutal slam of hips that drove
the thick cock deeper still.

“Thank you whom?”

Bruce barely had enough brain cells to rub together at the moment to cause a spark and he let
his head fall back until his nipple was pinched and pulled as punishment. “I asked you a
question Darling. Thank you whom?”

“Thank you Daddy… ple-please Daddy I want your cum.”

Harry hummed in appreciation at the words, green eyes sharp even through the haze of sex,
fingers rolling the hard nub between them just to watch Bruce come undone even more. This
was the man he had seen on stage, the predatory gaze that surveyed the men waiting to buy
him because despite whatever high powered position Bruce had in the real world outside
none of it mattered.

Bruce at his very core was a masochistic little slut and while Harry wouldn’t be able to
explore just how far the streak went tonight he would be sure to revisit Gotham to find out,
but for now -

“Where do you want me to cum Darling .” he asked, the heat in his belly becoming near
painful pressure with the need to release but Harry was nothing if not dedicated to duty.

Bruce reached between their bodies to pry his hole wider with his fingers, his blue eyes
blown so wide only a thin ring of ocean blue remained among the sea of black. Harry stared
at the flushed face of a man completely lost in ecstasy then to where his fingers tried to
stretched his hole further.

“In m’pussy puh’ease… cum in m’pussy daddy!” Bruce whimpered, words slurring and
Harry felt something in his chest flutter at the sight.

“Open your cunt for me Bruce. Say ahh.”

Bruce trembled under him, dilated eyes wide as he stared up at the man who had bought him
for 150 million.

Harry let his weight rest on top of Bruce, one hand braced against the mattress and the next
grabbing a hold of a fist full of Bruce’s hair, the sounds of skin slapping skin loud in the
apartment but not as loud as Bruce.

“Daddy! Daddy !”

Harry groaned and snapped his hips forward one last time before he came, Bruce crying out
soundlessly with his own nearly dry orgasm, eyes fluttering close seconds later and Harry
laughed between pants for breath.

Bruce came to hours later with the first rays of dawn peaking over the horizon and a warm
hand to his face, calloused thumb gently rubbing his cheek. He stared at the man in confusion
for a few seconds before the previous night came flooding back to him and he blushed but
didn’t shy away from the hand.

It took him a couple more seconds to notice that Harry was already bathed and dressed, three
piece suit ironed and pristine.

“You are leaving.” it was not a question and Harry nodded. “I have business to attend to in
Dubai.”

“I see.” he tried to not sound disappointed in the fact that Harry was leaving when normally it
was Bruce who snuck out during the early hours of the morning. It was a simple arrangement
after all.

Harry bent at the waist and coaxed him into a kiss with Bruce reaching up to wrap his arms
around the other’s neck.

“If it would not be too forward to ask, can I see you again the next time I am to be in
Gotham? Without the pretense of underground sex clubs of course. Maybe over several dates
of home cooked dinner.”

Harry tried to not look hopeful at the prospect of securing a date with Bruce, a man who he
had no idea as to his last name but was willing to learn slowly.

“I know the contract stated explicitly that we were not to -” he paused at Bruce’s laughter,
blue eyes tearing up and a pillow being hugged to his bare hickey bruised chest.

“You broke the contract the moment you told me your name Harry, it’s actually frightening
how little you regard your security.” Bruce mused before sitting upright slowly when the ache
of his lower back made itself known.

Reaching out he straightened the tie and fixed Harry’s waistcoat all the while trying to ignore
the storm of butterflies in his belly at the proposal.

As Bruce Wayne the sole inheritor to the Wayne fortune and everything that fell under his
parents name he wanted for nothing but the simple idea of a home cooked dinner intrigued
him more than it should.

Holding his hand out he watched as Harry blinked in confusion “Your phone.” it was handed
over quickly and Bruce input his personal digits into the contact list and gave the phone back
to a pleased Harry, the man pressing a kiss to Bruce’s lips that was returned in earnest until
Harry climbed on top of him and began to shed himself of the jacket and then the rest of his
clothing.

“I thought you had to go to Dubai.” Bruce mumbled into the kiss, legs parting for the hand
which snuck between them and a reedy moan escaping when Harry hoisted his legs over his
shoulders, tongue licking warm soothing strokes over his abused hole.

Looking up from between Bruce’s thighs, tongue dragging a wet line over the hardening cock
Harry smirked and nipped at the pale skin of the thick muscle in Bruce’s inner thigh.

“ Darling I’m nothing if not devoted.”

 Harry/Clark Kent pt 2
Chapter Summary

A continuation of part one.

Chapter Notes
See the end of the chapter for notes

Clark was effectively and properly wooed before they stepped foot from the farm and maybe
that should have been a warning sign.

Harry had shown up an entire hour early in his Ford f250 model, his father drooling at the
design of the truck and after shaking his parents hands had given the Jonathan a tour of the
vehicle and even the keys to drive it for a few minutes.

Donuts and fat pastries were given to the Kent patriarch and a bottle of wine with a bouquet
of flowers that looked so exotic, Clark suspected the other boy had flown to another country
to obtain them

This was before he gave Clark a genuine red wine leather jacket that felt so expensive he was
afraid of putting it on least he tore it, and surprisingly - or maybe unsurprisingly it fit
perfectly.

All of these events happened before he declared to Clark’s parents his intentions of dating
Clark seriously and wanted their blessings.

Driving down the highway after leaving behind a gushing and bemused parent alike, Clark’s
face finally settled from the tomato red to a light pink, blue glaring at the far too amused
driver and Clark for all that he tried could not say that he hated anything so far.

Harry didn’t have to but he properly sat down with both Martha and Jonathan, brought them
both gifts and proudly announced that he wanted Clark for himself.

Playing with a loose thread on his jeans he gave the older boy a quick glance, gaze sweeping
over the dark hair, broad shoulders that stretched the thin shirt, long legs covered in the dark
jeans and -

“If you don’t calm down you’re gonna pass out.” Harry chimed in and Clark absolutely did
not pout.

He did however jump as far as the seat belt would allow when a hand rested on top of his
head and somehow the fingers managed to knead the perfect spot that made Clark’s spine
turn to jelly.
Harry was staring at him, truck parked in the morning rush traffic, green eyes bright if not a
little tired.

Curling his hand around the large one in his hair he tugged it down to his lap and held it, eyes
facing forward with the determination of someone willing to ignore everything other than the
road and the stupid sports car in front of the truck.

It was Harry’s heart turn to pound in his chest.

It was embarrassing to say that in his 16 years upon Earth Clark had never once gone to the
amusement park a few hours drive away from Smallville, or any park of amusement for the
matter. He heard tales of it yes, but never once did he ever make any plans to venture beyond
his little town just to ride a few attractions.

He was having the time of his life.

Pinching off a piece of blue cotton candy Clark pulled Harry in the direction of a game, the
man yelling about winning the largest stuffed animal on display - a huge yellow duck.

“You want it?” Harry asked, motioning to the stuffed animal several people were trying and
failing to get.

Clark shook his head “What am I gonna do with a huge duck huh? Never mind let’s go to -
Harry wait!”

Harry pulled him the remainder of feet to the stand, slapping a ten dollar note on the counter
before picking up the toy gun. Clark watched as the final balloon failed to fill up fully and
burst, the owner announcing that Harry had one more chance.

It was obvious the game was rigged and by the slight tensing of Harry’s shoulders he noticed
it as well.

Harry filled the balloons up again, using one hand for the last one and he watched as Harry
picked up a tiny splinter from the counter, too thin and practically invisible in his hand to
normal eyes and flicked it, the balloon popping and the salesman gaping. Five minutes later
Clark was the proud owner of a huge yellow duck.

“You really didn’t have to you know…” he mumbled on their way back to the truck to
deposit their load so far.

It felt like everything Clark let his gaze linger on for more than five seconds found it’s way
mysteriously in his hands without much thought, and on one hand he was incredibly flattered
but on the next slightly insulted.

He did not have his father’s hatred of the rich and powerful because Clark had yet to meet
someone like Lionel Luther, and most of the animosity came from the fact that the man loved
Martha with little regard for Jonathan’s feelings when he flaunted extravagant gifts to his
wife; all which were rejected.
“I know, but I wanted to.” Harry shrugged, plucking the yellow duck from Clark’s arms to
stuff it into the backseat with two bags full of stuff he barely paid attention to when buying.
He just wanted to see the glow of happiness that lit up Clark’s baby blues whenever he was
given something.

“But it’s a waste of money spending on so much today.” Clark frowned when Harry rolled his
eyes.

“Better than it sitting in the bank catching cobwebs.”

“What would your parents say if they found out you were spending so much on me?”

Harry was silent for a short moment before shrugging “They’d approve. Look.”

Cupping Clark’s face in his hands he leaned closer and watched with vivid delight as the
younger boy’s face turned progressively red, and Harry took his time in feeling just how soft
the other’s skin was, the curve of his cheek bones and the arch of his jaw.

“This is supposed to be a date Clark Kent. Let me woo you. Please.”

What was he to say to that other than a mumbled okay.

Screams made him look to the side of the roller coaster and he shuddered at the thought of
being so high up, or moving so fast in a metal contraption and Harry followed his line of
sight.

“I take it you’re not a fan of roller coasters.”

Clark shook his head “I just don’t like heights much.” it was a secret not even Chloe or Pete
knew and Harry gave him a queer look, head tilting and gaze accessing before an arm was
wrapped around is waist and Clark was tugged closer.

He had super strength, super speed, enhanced hearing and x-ray vision while learning how to
properly fly more than five feet off the ground. Yet he was scared; downright terrified of
heights. It was silly, he knew that much and Harry just tugged him closer, a soft smile on his
lips that made Clark’s insides squirm.

“Don’t worry. I’ll protect you.”

Clark felt like punching Harry but he settled for turning cherry red instead, heat bubbling in
his belly and chest.

He might as well have been a superhero with his abilities, maybe even stronger than many of
the ones in the comic books, yet the idea of being protected for once, of allowing himself to
be watched over in a way his parents couldn’t… Clark bit his lip and relished in the surprise
on Harry’s face when he intertwined their fingers together in a loose hold.

Getting into the seats of the roller coaster was easier said than done and Clark barely resisted
in sticking his tongue out at the little girl who eyed him funnily when his legs shook.
“Relax… I got you.” Harry murmured from beside him, arm draped across his shoulders and
the next squeezing Clark’s knuckles where his hand curled over the hand bar, the metal
creaking under the hold and threatening to bend under it.

“I hate heights.” he repeated and Harry hummed, taking the chance to admire the other boy
closer, the blue changing to a pretty pale green under the glare of the sun.

Taking a deep breath Harry watched as the other passengers loaded onto the ride, the five
seats in front of them filling quickly.

“Would it help if I told you what I’m afraid of?”

Clark’s grip relaxed somewhat, curiosity sparking and the loud voices of the people around
them dulled to a gentle hum as he focused solely on Harry, the older boy looking slightly
uncomfortable as his lips thinned.

During his interactions with Harry after their fight that late evening he had yet to see the
other look anything other than confident in the very air he breathed, yet now Harry
practically radiated uncertainty and instead of being gleeful of finding a crack in the
seemingly impenetrable armor Clark felt unsettled.

“Hey, you don’t have to tell me if you don’t want to, if it makes you feel uncomfortable.”

Harry gave him a small smile and shook his head as if banishing unpleasant thoughts “No,
it’s okay. It’s more embarrassing than anything else.”

Clark remained silent as he watched emotions flicker across Harry’s face, far too quick for
him to decipher.

“I’m afraid of small spaces. Of being trapped and confined without a viable escape. Severe
crippling claustrophobia that makes me unable to breathe.”

Without his enhanced hearing Clark was sure the words would have gone unheard but the
volume did nothing to mask the embedded fear he could hear in a fine tremor that lined
Harry’s voice. This was not some silly fear that Clark had, like an indestructible bird being
afraid of flying, but a fear which was reinforced by habit and trauma.

His insides twisted in anger, Harry’s eyes flickering to his blue clad chest where his heart
thundered to a different beat. He wanted to ask, to know who or what could have kept
someone stronger than Clark confined but -

“It happened when I was a kid.”

“Who -”

“Not everyone is as nice as you are Smallville.” Harry cut him off from asking, instead he
brushed a thumb over Clark’s cheek as an apology.

“Not as beautiful, or kind, or loyal either.” the thumb tickled Clark’s lower lip as a blush
crawled over his skin anew. Harry was deflecting and Clark allowed him to do so if only so
the tenseness of his jaw and shoulders would ease.

“Pretty words won’t get you anything more than a kiss Potter.”

The words left his mouth before he could yank them back in and Harry went preternaturally
still, green eyes wide and a slight pink flush over his cheeks. Clark blushed deeper when the
forest green gaze lowered to his lips and Harry’s own curled in a smirk that could only be
called devious.

“I’m getting a kiss? So forward Mr. Kent, who knew you had it in you.”

The ride moving swallowed Clark’s protest and he gripped Harry’s hand instead of the
yielding handle bar as the coaster sped up and Clark found himself screaming as Harry
cackled beside him, arm still holding him close.

The conversation from earlier was in no way forgotten but Clark shelved it for later as a way
to not ruin the good mood they had going after the initial heart-attack he suffered on the roller
coaster.

The little girl had given up on eyeing him and settled for loudly proclaiming to her older
brother than Clark was a scaredy cat.

Harry had only laughed and tugged him along as if Clark was about to start a fist fight with
an 8 year old.

“You never know. You did start one with me remember? Or did you sucker punching me not
ringing any bells.”

Clark pouted, not even bother to resist the urge to “I apologized for that didn’t I?”

“Did you really?” Harry hummed, laughing when Clark shoved him as they made the short
walk back to the truck, a few more items being placed in the backseat.

Driving down the highway again Harry turned the truck off-road, the wheels and general
build of the truck making the uneven bearings of the dirt road no more than slight bumps and
Harry snorted at the raised eyebrow sent in his direction.

“Calm your beating maiden heart, I’m not trying to take your virtue in the backseat of my
truck Clark, believe it or not I have better taste than that.”

The skepticism did not diminish in the slightest as they drove further and further away from
main-road, the off-road track becoming worse as they drove until Clark had to hold onto the
safety handle just so he wouldn’t bounce a foot off his seat.

“This is the second part of our date.” he elaborated and Clark tried his best to communicate
silently that Harry had to give just a little more.

“‘Sides, I would need more than three hours to properly take you. I promised your dad I
would have you home by seven and since someone dragged me all over the fair grounds three
times over, we have just under four hours left.”

Clark couldn’t rebuke him even if he tried, cheeks burning as he in now way missed what
was unsaid but loudly spoken nonetheless and he chose very wisely to not ask about it much
less think it. The presents in the backseat were all the proof that was needed and Harry sent
him a grin at his silence.

The second half of the date turned out to be an early dinner by a a small lake created by a
waterfall and Clark marveled at how clear and pretty the water was, the surroundings lush
and green with a small pier extending out near the middle of the translucent body of water.

Finishing his second sandwich Clark eyed the other boy who was still working his way
through the first, green eyes pinning him to the spot until Clark squirmed.

“What?”

Harry shrugged and Clark huffed, throwing a fat grape at Harry who caught it in his mouth
with a cheeky grin.

“Seriously, what is it.”

“Just wondering how it is you’ve never had a girl-friend or boy-friend when you’re -” Harry
motioned to all of Clark “so that .”

Clark raised a brow “That?”

“Sweet. Cute. Genuine.” the words were paired with a look of puzzlement as if Harry was
confused about what he was seeing and Clark’s face felt beyond heated.

“And just when you decide to date someone you try for Lana Lang.”

The contempt was clear as day and Clark frowned “Why do you hate Lana so much? She’s
really nice and help out at a lot of clubs even though she’s so popular. She also -”

“I don’t care about Lang, Clark.”

“But I’m just trying to understand why you -” Clark barely had time to yelp when Harry
rolled his eyes in clear exasperation, super speed and strength being utilized to man handle
Clark up off the picnic blanket and into the slightly chilly waters of the pier.

“Potter!” he gasped as soon as he broke the surface, treading the clear water as Harry rose up
a couple feet away, devious smile and non too apologetic.

“You rang?” Harry drawled and Clark splashed him in the face.

There was a moment of silence only broken by the birds in the surrounding trees and the
breaking of the waterfall before both boys grinned, one more tentative and the other wolfish.

A water war with enhanced strength and speed was nothing short of chaotic and Clark
ducked under the surface to avoid a mini tsunami Harry sent his way with a push of his hand,
the older boy following quickly after and Clark focused everything he had on avoiding his
grasp.

Three huge waves of water later with several surprised fish and frogs being caught in the
aftermath Harry grinned down at a panting Clark, the youngest Kent trapped under him with
his clothes clinging to his body as if he were wearing a body suit.

Harry unashamedly took his time in looking over the other, the blue shirt outlining his narrow
waist and the perked nipples under the material from the chill of the night air and water.
Clark was staring at him too and Harry’s breath was stolen the moment he returned the gaze,
the feeling of being captured, a willing hostage.

He leaned a bit lower, fingers squeezing Clark’s hand intertwined with his own while the next
rested idly by the slicked dark hair. He wanted to kiss the poster boy for all things good and
kind, to bruise his lips and his neck and his soul until Harry knew Clark inside and out but
that was neither now or perhaps anytime soon.

“Clark I - mmph!”

The kiss was clumsy and unpracticed but it was without a doubt the sweetest thing Harry had
ever tasted. The inexperience was not a turn off, if anything his dick appreciated it more than
ever if the rebellious twitch in soaked jeans was anything to go by.

Pressing closer he licked Clark’s bottom lip until the soft mouth opened and he deepened it
slowly to give Clark time to retreat but all he did was wrap his one free hand around Harry’s
neck and - oh.

At least he was not the only one hard.

Breaking the kiss was more difficult than it should have been, because on one hand they
needed to breathe but on the next Clark was too fucking cute and delicious, the kitten licks he
returned against Harry’s experienced tongue were steadily cracking his resolve. Parting from
the kiss he groaned in response to Clark’s soft whimper, Harry burying his face into the damp
neck as Clark caught his breath.

“So much for not stealing my virtue.”

Tickling him into submission was second only to the kiss.

The drive back to the farm was done in silence but it was both appreciated and needed after
the day of excitement and what Harry hoped to be progression, shit, he was praying it was a
step forward in his favor.

Jonathan was sitting on the porch when the truck came to a stop, the eldest Kent raising a
steaming mug to them from where he was sitting and Martha came out soon after to give
them a cheerful shake of her hand.

Clark groaned but the indulgent smile gracing his lips told Harry it was just for show, or
perhaps that was how most teenagers felt about their parents. Loved them silly but
embarrassed beyond control. It was nice to witness even if he would never experience it
himself.

As if sensing his sudden drop in mood Clark turned towards him, brows furrowed “You
okay?”

Harry blinked once, then again before nodding without his normal present smirk or
confidence, instead Clark would say he looked tired, the same he saw earlier than day but
deeper, more depth and caution, but before he could say anything Harry closed the space
between them to press a soft kiss to his lips, chaste compared to their first.

“Thank you for the date Mr. Kent.” he murmured against Clark’s kiss swollen ones, the
younger teen blinking slowly in a daze before a blush creeped onto his cheeks.

“Your dad looks ready to come over here. I think you should get going.”

Jonathan Kent did indeed look ready to leave the patio, the mug of coffee or tea set down and
he now stood on the top step, Martha holding onto his arm as if to stop him. Harry snorted
and Clark pouted.

“You still have to help me with all of that.” he motioned to the backseat full of stuff that was
bought at the amusement park along with the giant yellow duck.

“Woe is me.” Harry drawled, ever present smirk back and Clark smacked him on the arm.

Trudging towards Clark’s waiting parents Harry watched as delight spread across Martha’s
face and something akin to worry over Jonathan’s but Harry had no time to try and decipher
the expression before Martha descended upon them and the bags of whatever Harry had
brought Clark.

“You two look like you had a fun time together.” Martha pet the yellow duck and Clark the
huge virgin that he was blushed sputtered in denial about no fun to be had until Harry
elbowed him in the ribs.

“She meant the park.” he said mildly which only served to make Clark even more flustered.

“Thanks for returning him home in one piece Harry. You should get a moving now, wouldn’t
want your parents to worry.”

Jonathan spoke up soon after the bags had been set down and Clark watched as cool
indifference masked Harry’s face, shoulders tensing slightly and hands burying themselves
into the pockets of the jacket he wore.

“My parents are dead sir, but thank you for the consideration.”

The words sounded almost rehearsed and Clark found himself sliding closer to the older boy,
Harry’s green glancing at him in surprise and confusion. Martha suddenly looked heartbroken
and Jonathan stricken by guilt.

“I’m… sorry to hear that son.”

 Harry shrugged, looking for all the world not bothered by the revelation even though Clark
could see it did indeed cause some worriment.

“Mom do you think you can squeeze in one more for dinner next week?”

Martha nodded slowly before perking up “If he eats anything like you then I’ll be happy to!”

Harry’s nose wrinkled in confusion and it was Clark’s turn to shrug “Think of it as our
second date Potter.”

Confusion turned to bewilderment and that to amusement, Harry angling his body towards
Clark, green eyes narrowed.

“Did you just pity me a second date Kent?”

There was only ever one answer to that question and Clark rolled his eyes “No. I just figured
that since mom will be bugging me to invite you over for dinner eventually then why not on
my own accord. Not everything is about you Harry.”

Clark snuggled into his brand new spanking leather jacket and gave Harry his best mulish
stare down until the other boy raised his hands in surrender.

“We would be happy to have you over Harry, it’s really not that often Clark has his friends
over for dinner much less his boyfriend -”

Clark sputtered again and Martha continued as if her only child was not choking on his
embarrassment.

“I always cook too much anyway, having you over will be a blessing Harry.”

She gently touched his hand and he nodded “Yes ma’am.” Martha patting him on the
shoulder.

“See you at school?” Clark intoned before Harry turned on the engine and the other
Kryptonian gave him a small grin, tugging the younger closer by his collar to press a kiss to
his lips.

“You can count on it Smallville.”

Chapter End Notes

Sorry for the delay in updating this chapter too stupidly long to be written, nothing
seemed right and the wording annoyed me so I took a break. Uni has begun again so
there's another fresh hell for me to focus on unfortunately.

As always drop me comment, your reviews keep me fueled and going.

 Harry/Thranduil
Chapter Summary

Thranduil's consort has a plan. (Harry/Thranduil, The Hobbit)

Chapter Notes
See the end of the chapter for notes

The guards stationed by the massive doors meet gazes as another whisper of a moan escaped
from within the throne room where their King and the royal Consort were left after the
meeting with the Dwarves and the lone Hobbit.

When another gasp designed with the workings of pleasure filtered out of the sturdy wooden
doors both guards broke eye contact, pink staining their cheeks and pointed ears each because
they were sure even the dullest of the Dwarves could piece together what was occuring
behind the closed doors.

Haarithir held his One as the male shuddered, nearly bowing off his precarious perch on the
throne where Haarithir was seated.

‘My One’ was a term used by Dwarves alone but he felt it accurate in his affection for
Thranduil, the elven King was the only one to pique his interest in his long life lived, and
despite Thranduil’s obvious frosty and contempt inducing personality Haarithir had found it
quite endearing.

“The guards will hear you my love.” amusement clear as he murmured into the male’s
pointed ear, teeth nipping the lobe whenever Thranduil descended to roll his hips, stifled
whimpers filled the empty room and Haarithir hissed when his midnight black hair was
gripped for his cheek.

Pressing an apologetic kiss to the pale sweat slicked neck he licked at the King’s throat
seconds before raising his hips to meet the demanding male on top of him and Thranduil gave
a long moan, the deep sound reverberating follow swiftly by sharp smacks of skin on skin.

Lifting the elven king he set the blond onto his feet, long fingers gripping the throne for dear
life as Haarithir withdrew and with all the impatience of a hungry Drawf he slammed back
into the tight heat and Thranduil lost any pretense of acting ‘proper’ voice growing louder
with each direct jab to his pleasure gland and it was not long before the King of the Silvan
Elves climaxed.

Haarithir watched as the pale back tensed, the muscles under soft flesh bunching and white
blond hair falling to the side when Thranduil arched up, a minute effort to get away from the
hard length still within him when Haarithir held onto his hair and kept him in place.
To others had they been in his position might have felt a power surge at being able to
dominate and completely subdue someone as powerful and old as Thranduil but all he felt
was a deep aching love for him.

Draping himself over the ElvenKing’s back, thrusts growing in intensity until the blond elf
was could do nothing more but cry out as Haarithir took his pleasure before spilling inside.

“Please…” came the whisper and he reached around to grasp Thranduil’s perked cock again
and all it took was a few quick strokes of his hand and gentle prodding of his own hard but
softening cock to have the King spill in his hand.

Thranduil went boneless quickly after that and Haarithir chuckled into his soft hair, easing
himself out in a rush of semen and oil Haarithir cleaned them both, kneeling before Thranduil
as the elf slouched on the throne, skin still flushed a healthy pink.

“Are you alright Meleth nîn?” rubbing the bare thigh of his bonded one Haarithir pressed a
kiss to alabaster flesh, Thranduil’s winter frost blue eyes opening to stare at him, long fingers
brushing Haarithir’s cheek.

“I still do not approve.” the bitterness was evident in his tone and even in his exhausted
disheveled state Thranduil still managed to look every bit of the noble-born he was and
Haarithir loved him even more for it.

“But?”

Thranduil scowled, ivory fingers moving past the strong jaw to the pitch black hair which
shined blue under the right light, hair that entranced him upon their first meeting and still did
to that day. Tangling his fingers in the raven locks he tugged the other elf from his knees and
onto his feet until they were nose to nose, green eyes sparkling with mirth.

“But I will allow you to have your way. I see the merit in what you suggest even if I do not
like it. Those damned dwarves bring nothing but trouble and calamity.”

The word dwarves was spat with venom making Haarithir frown slightly but Thranduil
calmed quickly enough when Haarithir pressed a warm hand to his stomach, the skin slowly
but surely shaping from the slim and toned middle to something softer and rounder, a
testimony to the life he was carrying.

“I refuse to lose you because of a foolish quest made by a bunch of ignorant, bull-headed,
knee high, stone eating -” Thranduil’s rant was put to a stop by a kiss, Haarithir’s lips sealing
over the soft ones of the King.

Cradling the ElvenKing’s face he deepened the kiss before breaking it, noses brushing he
nuzzled his mate and pulled his naked bonded to his body in a hug that was returned without
hesitation.

“You will not lose me Melethron nîn, not to a silly Dwarf, nor a dragon.” Haarithir promised,
trailing kisses down the fair skin, Thranduil’s breath hitching.
“Nor will you lose me to a war.” licking a light pink nipple he suckled on the nub until it was
well and perked on his tongue. “I am your sword and shield. The one who will rid you of
enemies and dangers and always, always return back to your side Thranduil. As both one of
your own and your husband.”

The blue swam with emotion and Haarithir pressed their foreheads together and simply let his
senses be filled with his beloved, not flinching when his hair was gripped nor reacting when a
soft prayer was murmured.

Many called Thranduil cold and heartless, said he was souless and underserved of his title as
King because he lacked compassion when it was in fact the opposite. Thranduil’s love for his
people was unmatched to a point he allowed hundreds to die in Erebor because he rather they
die than risk those under his protection.

The ElvenKing was afraid of the unknown, a long life and many deaths would wear on the
soul in a way most mortals did not have time to understand but Haarithir did, memories of a
past life in a new world kept him awake at times, tears shed for people he did not know but
his heart remembered.

The love he held for Legolas and his people drove him to abandon the dwarves in their time
of need and the already tense relationship crumbled completely because of the rash decision.

Haarithir understood and he respected the choice that was made before his arrival to
Mirkwood. He also knew the damage could only be healed by a show of goodwill and if he
was to be the one to face the dragon in the end he would, if it meant protecting what was his.

Everything would depend on the Dwarven King’s answer to what Haarithir would ask for.

“Thorin Oakenshield is a stubborn fool just like his grandfather. He would rather perish in
flames than to give you his precious rock Haarithir.”

“Mhmm. It is a good thing out of all those dwarves we have seen at least one creature with
sense.”

“The Halfling?” the skepticism made Haarithir laugh before he carefully redressed his
beloved, the close fitting material would soon have to be changed in coming months and he
looked forward to the change.

“The Hobbit yes. Give me a chance to convince them. My dreams have yet to be proven
wrong and I would like to prevent the bloodshed I dreamt of. The blood of Durin must stay
on this plain and the pale orc must be killed.”

Thranduil scowled again, the sneer marring his beautiful features but not making him any
less enchanting.

“And I suppose you are the one to do this.”

“If it will protect you, Legolas and our people then I will face down a hundred dragons and
stain my sword sanguine with thousands. Do you doubt my love for you Thranduil? My
devotion?”

The hard glare in Thranduil’s eyes was softened by the kiss he urged to his lips and he held
the other elf when he all but melted into Haarithir’s embrace.

“Never.”

The single word bellied every fear Thranduil held and he knew his husband was a worrier by
nature, brooding and generally unapproachable when doing so but he worried. Smiling softly
Haarithir nipped at the pointed end of the ear until he was swatted.

“Then believe in me. I will not have you on the battlefield but I know I can not stop you from
assisting the injured as much as I can stop Legolas from engaging in battle with Tauriel.”

Thranduil swallowed heavily and not for the first time felt himself drowning in the love from
the other male, unconditional love he never believed he would find. Legolas’s mother had
been a dear friend and for a long time his perception of mate and love was shrouded by the
gift she had given him in his son. Her death had hurt like a rib being torn from his side but it
had not been the love he felt radiating from Haarithir.

He had appeared out of what seemed to be thin air covered in wounds so deep Thranduil
himself while assisting the healers had not imagined he would live beyond the night.

Trailing his thumb over one of the scars along Haarithir’s abdomen, curved wicked things
neither knew the story behind but recovery had been long and for a moment touch and go.
Thinking back to the nights where he sat by the bedside of the strange elf, green eyes filled
with so much pain it could be sampled from the air itself.

He had held Haarithir’s hand when the other reached out blindly, the numbing herbs doing
little to combat his agony and holding onto Thranduil always seemed to calm him. Their first
encounter had joined their fates he was sure of it and as Haarithir grew stronger so did the
power he held, his foresight saving many of Silvan elves from danger that was overlooked on
account of arrogance and underestimation.

Haarithir showed himself to be valuable, not hesitating to swear himself to Thranduil for his
mercy and aid when he did not have to. Skill in combat unmatched by any of the royal
captains and a viciousness unseen beyond the savage lands. Haarithir had very few memories
leading up to when the scouts found him in the forest but the handful remembered often
started and ended in blood. Of magic and screams and fire, a beast consuming everything that
moved.

Dreams which had filled the medical wing with screams of anguish so severe Thranduil took
it as a personal offense the male could not find peace in his palace, could not have his mind
be at rest with him tending to him.

“I can not lose you Haarithir.” he repeated “Meleth e-Guilen… I would wither away should
you not return to me.”

“Then I will surely return now. Your beauty is on the line after all.”
“You joke when-”

“Your beautiful eyes, the curve of your lips, the hair I enjoy touching while you sleep. The
sound of your voice is the only nourishment I need and your touch erases any pain I feel.
Your heart is as golden as it is shielded and I would never do anything to hurt what I hold
dearest to me Meleth nîn. I intend to spend the rest of our very long lives together creating
memories and if you will allow it more gifts to surround us with.”

Thranduil closed his eyes to hide from the raw emotion Haarithir displayed, his stomach
warming further by the large hand covering it and the tiny life blossoming within.

“You’re a sentimental fool.”

Neither made mention of the near lachrymose undercurrent in his voice or how he cleared his
throat after.

“Yes, I am.” he agreed and Thranduil chuckled, brushing the dark hair back so he could see
the shining emeralds.

“I make no promises but Legolas has always been wistful of younger siblings.”

“Who are we to deny him such a simple wish?” Haarithir murmured and Thranduil’s
chuckles filled the throne room, the guards outside smiling at the sound of their King so
obviously happy.

Haarithir stood before the chained dwarves and the single hobbit, the half-ling the only one
who was not trying to kill him with a glare or sprouting curses in the language of the
dwarves, so it was him whom he addressed.

“Until your companions settle I shall only speak to you Master Hobbit.”

The halfling’s eyes grew wide and Haarithir crouched so they were closer in height and not
towering over the poor thing. He did not share most elves dislike for dwarves but he had to
admit, they were a bit foul.

“W-w-why me? I-I am b-but a l-lowly H-hobbit Master Elf.”

Haarithir smiled softly and the tiny creature squeaked, the dwarven king’s curses simmering
somewhat to stare back and forth between him and the hobbit, jealously so obvious in his
blue eyes it was a wonder the dwarf did not bellow ‘Mine!’

“It is because you are a simple hobbit is why I shall speak to you. Until your friends be quiet
and are willing to listen to me I have no intention of paying neither young or old a shred of
attention. You may call me Haarithir or as the children of Men prefer, Harry, and what may I
call you Master Hobbit?”

Bilbo blushed slightly “B-Bilbo Baggins of the Shire please.”

Haarithir smiled at the gentle creature who did not fit in with such burly and brutish dwarves
and he moved to unchain the hobbit, the look of surprise and the stuttered gratitude reminded
Haarithir of a young child shown kindness.

“Bilbo.” he murmured, holding a hand out for the hobbit to shake because he was civil and
also just to see the one named Thorin nearly implode from anger.

“You! Do not touch him you filthy good for nothing -”

Haarithir tuned out the dwarven king, offering the hobbit a seat at the small table and chair he
requested be brought in the room.

“What I am requesting of you and your companions pertains to your mission of reclaiming
Erebor.”

Though he spoke to only Bilbo the dwarves soon went quiet at the mention of the Misty
Mountains.

“King Thranduil has agreed to let you go onward with your mission without interference at
the risk that the dragon Smaug is indeed still alive and could raze us all to the ground should
it be angered enough. He has accepted you will never stop to reclaim the mountain and
should you fail many filled with greed will surely try, so why not it’s rightful King and
people.”

Bilbo nodded in understanding and Haarithir pushed the bowl of assorted sliced fruit towards
the Hobbit.

“My concern rests with another matter.”

“A-and what matter would that be Master Haarithir?”

Standing he began to undo his long coat, draping the dark green material over the back of the
chair before removing his tunic, the hobbit blushing and the dwarves cursing once more and
screaming about indecent tree huggers.

Silence soon reigned the room, the elven guards respectfully looking away as Haarithir’s
multitude of scars were put on display. The long curved and jagged healed wounds were in
various states. Some healing to thin angry red lines while the ones along his stomach, ribs
and spine remained deep, the flesh too damaged to close like the rest.

The high neck of the coat had hidden the claw marks along his neck that were meant to sever
his throat as the ones along his belly should have gutted him.

Elves were known for their beauty and grace so it was quite obvious none of the dwarves nor
Bilbo had ever seen one of his kind with such gruesome and extensive wounds. Haarithir at
times did not like to look into mirrors and many times he would sleep in a long tunic in an
effort to hide the battered skin from Thranduil.

He knew his mate did not care if he was half an elf or whole, his kisses unreserved and his
love for Haarithir entire body and soul, which made his duty and mission all the more
important.
Bilbo looked close to tears and he gave the hobbit an apology knowing the creatures like
Bilbo did not see much if any violence at all. Such gentle creatures who lived and loved in
peace.

“Do not ask how I obtained these wounds for I have no answers to provide. I do not
remember how or what nearly killed me but the proof remains and my life, my very well-
being is all thanks to King Thranduil.”

Haarithir began to redress “With these scars and survival I was blessed with a gift. It cannot
be controlled and often only when many lives are at stake. I have the gift of Foresight. I have
never been wrong about a prediction and my dream told me of a war between five armies.”

“Five armies?” one of the dwarves asked and Haarithir raised a brow, the chained dwarf
stepping forward as best as he could with shackles around his ankles, a small bow towards
Haarithir.

“Balin son of Fundin at your service Master elf.” the grey dwarf said as he ignored his
companions shouts of disbelief. Haarithir returned the bow but made no indication of
unchaining the son of Fundin.

“Dwarf, Elf, Men, Orcs and Goblins. The battle of the five armies and it all begins because of
your King.”

All eyes turned to a stunned Thorin because the outrage began in his defense by those around
him, Balin silent.

“What do you mean Master Haarithir. Why do you say Thorin is the reason for - for such a
war of that magnitude?”

“The Arkenstone.”

The dwarves started up once again and Haarithir sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose as a
headache simmered to the forefront of his head, a dull throbbing pain.

“SILENCE!”

Thorin shouted and Haarithir supposed at least the young King lived up to the anger
Thranduil rolled his eyes about. Thorin stepped forward, elbowing one of the dwarves from
his path to stand beside Balin, his blue eyes burning with rage but there was a glimmer of
uncertainty as well.

“How do you know about the Arkenstone?”

Haarithir regarded him for a moment as he finished clasping the final button to the high neck
coat which hid the scars upon his neck.

“I do not. I simply heard it’s name being called in the dream and the little the ElvenKing has
told me. A stone which shines white light and is the treasure of all treasures for the line of
Durin. It is also the cause of your madness, a dark magic which makes you paranoid and
hateful. Your grandfather fell to the madness and so did his father before him. It is that
madness which shall be the driving force of the war, the stone will divide your gained allies
and your greed will create calamity.”

For once there was no shouting or cursing and Haarithir motioned for the guards to remove
the chains from both Thorin and Balin. “There is more is there not?” Balin asked and
Haarithir nodded at the perceptive dwarf.

“The sons of Durin all fell in the battle. You and your nephews Thorin Oakenshield do not
leave the battlefield and you three leave to meet your ancestors and loved ones in the great
halls.”

The blond dwarf pushed a younger dwarf behind him as if to protect him from Haarithir’s
words. The dwarven kings’s face turning pale and ashen while the rest looked unsettled.

“A pale orc shall take your lives and your line will end with you three. All because of the
stone.”

Thorin snarled the name of the orc and Haarithir could see nothing but pure hatred for the
creature that had killed his family.

“How accurate are your visions Master Haarithir…” Balin’s voice was thick with emotion.

“Definite without error.”

“Am I really gonna die Fili?” a young voice asked and the blond dwarf snarled no “You will
not die! I’ll kill that filthy orc before he ever lays a hand on you Kili!”

“What is your request Master Haarithir?” Bilbo spoke for the first time in a long time,
shoulders weighed down by the future possibility of losing several of his companions.

“Upon reclaiming the mountain you will give me the Arkenstone for me to ensure it’s
destruction.”

“You wish to destroy the jewel which gives me claim to Erebor? That makes my kingdom
what it has always been? The hope of my people?” Thorin’s voice was low and soft, Haarithir
nodded.

“You already have claim to the throne King Under The Mountain, your bloodline is your
claim as it is your nephews and a kingdom is made up of its people and the compassion of it’s
rulers. You do not need a silly gem to rule your people when they will readily follow you
when you show them you were able to reclaim their home and your birthright. Will you really
risk your life and those of your young nephews for a rock which glows? Will you see them
dead because of greed?”

“NEVER! Do not think to assume you know-”

“I know that greed removes rationality, it poisons the mind and makes friends into enemies.
The madness which takes your line because of that stone will sooner see you dead than for
you to give it up, and that is exactly what will happen should you keep it. Dwarves all suffer
from gold sickness, it is how your maker created you but the line of Durin, the descendants of
Durin the Deathless himself suffer tenfold, the Arkenstone amplifies that ailment a
hundredfold.”

“I will give you the Arkenstone…” the dwarven king sounded broken and his shoulders
slumped for the first time since their imprisonment, Balin and Bilbo who jumped from the
chair settling against him on each side and Haarithir could see the patient love the hobbit held
for the dark haired monarch.

“It will not prevent the war but it should change the outcomes. Men and Elf will stand with
you instead of against you when the pale orc comes riding for your lives. King Thranduil
gives his blessings for the continuance of your journey and hopes that the assistance he
provides for the war shall help to mend the error and horror done to you.”

Many of them had a lot to say about the ElvenKing but a sharp glare from Balin silenced
them all. The guards unchained the rest of the gathered dwarves and Haarithir clapped once
to turn their attention back to him.

“Your belongings will be given back to you and then after a meal and rest we will depart at
first light in the morn.”

“W-we?” a young dwarf asked and Haarithir smiled at him when he ducked his head after the
blurted question.

“I am of course going with you. I have always wanted to see the mighty dragon Smaug. As
Consort to the ElvenKing and Captain Commander it is my duty to ensure the King’s will is
done. Ensuring Smaug’s death is as much for the benefit of my people as it is for your own
young dwarf.”

“C-C-Consort!” Bilbo squeaked, Balin grimacing at the show of disrespect they had showed
him previously and the dark haired elf just shrugged one shoulder.

“It matters little beyond political arenas Master Baggins. You may still refer to me as
Haarithir. Get some rest and fill your stomachs Dwarves of the Misty Mountains and Hobbit
of the Shire we have a taxing journey ahead of us come daybreak.”

He let the guards guide the dwarves and lone hobbit to one of the larger rooms where several
soft pillows and mattresses were gathered in the area so they could sleep together to lessen
suspicion. It also helped they would all be in one area and better to keep an eye on them in
the event they decided to run off in the dead of night.

Wrapping his arms around Thranduil as soon as he entered their bed chambers, the King
leaning back into the embrace and smelling of floral soap, the long soft tunic covering to his
knees.

“It went well I see.” Haarithir nodded and pressed a kiss to his husband’s neck then again
upon his lips.

“We leave in the morning.” he murmured only to yelp when he was pushed onto the bed,
Thranduil climbing to straddle him, the tunic being lifted to expose his naked skin beneath
 and Haarithir felt himself harden in an instant at the sight.

Thranduil unlaced his breeches and with the hunger of a starving man Haarithir let himself be
devoured.

Chapter End Notes

Thranduil imho is beautiful and I decided he needed some loving.

 Harry/Steve McGarrett
Chapter Summary

There are certain sides of his best friend Danny never wishes to see.
He does anyway because of Junior. (Harry/Steve, Hawaii 5-0 (2010) )

Chapter Notes
See the end of the chapter for notes

“But Commander McGarrett has never called in from work before! He once came to work
with the flu Danny, the flu so you have to assume-”

Danny sighed and rubbed his forehead as Junior continued on his worried mother-hen of a
rant, a rant that had been going on for over half an hour now and was wearing on Danny's last
precious nerves. Said rant only now reaching it's peak as they all walked towards the
McGarrett family home, an unfamiliar vintage car out front that he would definitely ogle
later.

Danny could easily tell Junior, a young alpha who had been on suppressants since he was
first introduced to the concept of popping a knot and even more heavy hormone sedatives
once he got enlisted probably never smelled an omega’s heat.

Hell, he would bet his last dollar the poor man didn’t know that Steve Kill-First-Ask-
Questions-After McGarrett was in fact an omega and that while the man had never before
taken a heat leave had signed the form to take them recently.

As an alpha himself Danny was instinctively protective of the taller man, even if Steve could
probably kill him with a toothpick.

Yes, he wouldn't lie and say he wasn't curious as to whom had gotten Steve to reconsider
taking his heat breaks but he also knew that his best friend for the past eight years would tell
him when he was good and ready.

Not when some young overprotective upstart decided they needed to know, i.e Junior.

“Look kid, if we confirm that Steve is okay and just nursing a typical hormone rush will you
shut up and let us go back to work?” he snapped and Junior nodded quickly, practically
vibrating where he was standing.

Rolling his eyes he fished out the extra pair of keys Steve had bestowed upon him, unlocking
the door and was immediately hit was the heavy scent of omega, sex, cum and alpha.
Years of being a policeman, being the older brother of two omegas and being the father to
one as well made his restraint iron clad, Junior on the other hand had the control of a kitten
who smelled catnip.

“Whoa whoa whoa! Do you want to be killed you little navy idiot?!” yanking Junior back by
the collar of his shirt, the younger man choking from the pull back.

“You don’t just barge in on two people mid-heat that’s… that’s…”

He trailed off as he brain finally registered what his eyes were witnessing just a couple feet
past the door and into the living room.

Steve.

Steve being bent in a rather flexible position.

Steve being bent in a rather flexible position with an alpha buried balls deep in his best
friend’s ass.

Steve moaning from a particularly power slam of hips and the tell tale shuddering associated
with an orgasm.

Said alpha just gave him a glance and went back to drilling the moaning commander,
completely and utterly uninterested by and of their presence, one hand flexing on Steve's hip
and the other squeezing the back of his neck.

“Oh my god!” flinging his hand in front of his eyes as if it would erase the image that was
burned into his brain.

Danny quickly slammed the door shut, yanking Junior along with him until the fresh outside
air of lawn clipping, car fumes and salt water all but put a damper on the mixture of alpha-
omega pheromones. Leaning against the frame he settled his heart and wondered if he could
get away with pouring bleach in his eyes without the side effect of blindness and pain.

“W-w-why was…” he watched through squinted eyes as Junior’s brain seemed to short
circuit before it rebooted.

“Why was Commander McGarrett…”

Danny watched it promptly cut connection again, words choking the younger alpha and
Danny was content and horrified enough to let the kid flounder for a while longer, maybe
asphyxiate in the process.

Junior was sweating and there was a very obvious tent in his pants, one that Danny refused to
acknowledge because while the navy trained their soldiers to be the perfect weapons, they
slacked off on teaching them to be human, that much he found out with Steve during the first
few months of playing partners with the man.

“Am I really going to have to give you the bird and the bees talk kid?”
The newest member of their team shook his head, eyes wild and alarmed at the prospect of
being sat down and explained the dynamics of knots, omegas and what happens when one
doesn’t wear protection.

Good, because Danny hardly wanted to give it to a twenty-something fresh from the navy kid
a talk about sexuality, statuses and where knots and cocks should go and lock.

Much less his own daughter when she became curious enough to loan half a brain-cell
towards the other secondary gender for more than a simple play-date.

Who was he kidding? He would never be ready for that...

Danny finished dragging a silent Junior back to the car, rolled the windows down all the way
despite the throat scorching heat and threw Junior into the bathroom back at the palace with
two bottle of cold water and sharp order to 'get it over with, shower and get your shit together
kid.'

Five days later Steve sat his team down and introduced the man Danny had seen anally
invade his friend.

He wished it was not so literal in meaning.

“So this Harry Potter-Black, my alpha since I was maybe 22 years old.” Steve cheerfully
stated “We’ve only recently bonded though since our lives have been a bit hectic.”

The ‘recently bonded’ was perhaps an understatement since the fresh red and very raw bite
mark on the back of Steve’s neck had made Danny cringe and wince in sympathy.

“Harry, this is my team.” Steve motioned to Danny who stood a bit straighter.

“This is Detective Daniel Williams, the one I told you all about.” he had a look of amusement
on his face that Danny wanted to wipe off by hitting the smug looking bastard with a book or
something non lethal.

“Nice to meet you man.” Danny held out a hand and the dark haired bespectacled man who
looked like he should be cuddled up in a too soft arm chair with a book and a checkered
cardigan smiled at him shaking his hand.

“I’ve heard nothing but wonderful things about you… for the most part Detective.”

“Uh huh, I’m sure.” Danny drawled, giving Steve a side eye that was returned with his
typical 'I'm innocent believe me' smile.

The rest of the team was swiftly introduced, Harry shaking everyone’s hand and it was all
going smoothly until a mystified Jerry snapped his fingers

“You’re M.I 7!” he declared, shaking the stunned man’s hand.

“Not quite but good guess. I am however retired.”

There was a silence and Danny raised both brows at Steve who gave him that stupid doopey
smile of his and what was Danny to do about that huh?

“Aright, alright, leave the man alone. I don’t know about you all but I’m starving. Where’s
this amazing food you promised us Steven?”

Filling his plate he glanced up just in time to see Harry, the apparent retired British spy
whisper something in Steve’s ear that made him give a full body laugh and Danny looked
away from the private moment, grabbing a bear and settling down in a chair.

They already knew one British spy, why not another one to join their crazy family.

Raising his beer to Steve, the former navy officer gave him a wide eye squinting grin in
return.

Harry waved off the blond alpha he had to give thanks to for keeping Steve out of trouble for
the years they were separated. The stories he had heard from his fellow alpha had made him
cringe, insides twisting and Steve the shameless bastard had not even tried to be subtle in
avoiding his gaze.

Harry knew logically their jobs had been both dangerous but he figured when Steve had sent
him a missive saying he was leaving the Navy to run a task-force in Hawaii on the request of
the Governor, that it would be safer than infiltration missions in enemy territory.

How was he to know that snipers, bombers, anthrax, terrorists, dirty bombs, being shot out of
the sky, having to get a liver transplant, parkour-ing over buildings, hunting down cults, serial
killers, and his favourite of all the slight radiation poisoning would be involved.

All of which Steve had taken liberty to not mention.

His omega was by no means a typical omega and he was sure if anyone believed him to be
weak they had probably died incorrect, but the primitive side of Harry growled in reminder
that Steve was his omega.

The love of his life, the only one he had wanted since they were both young, foolish and too
ambitious, and the only person Harry wanted until it physically hurt to remain away from the
other man any longer.

He loved his job, the thrill and rush of saving people and toppling governments and rising
dictators without the vast majority of the world’s population having the faintest idea, but he
loved Steve more and while Steve was not the stereotypical damsel in distress if he did
anymore crazy shit Harry was going to lose his hair.

The word ‘traditional’ did not apply to him in the slightest because any other alpha would
have bitten Steve years ago and at the very least had him filled with a pup or three by now,
but here they were on the cusp of early 40’s with Steve’s prime breeding window closing bit
by bit and only recently bonded in the physical sense of the word.
It did not mean however that he was going to be able to rest easy knowing Steve was going to
be chasing serial killers in woods, hunting down suicide terrorist and jumping from god-
damned buildings like an adrenaline rush addicted lemur.

It also brought to question why all of the crazies seemed to populate or relocate to Hawaii to
conduct their business.

Picking the plates and cups from around the room he dumped the Eco-friendly disposable
wares into a garbage bag, tying it into a knot before getting started on the glass containers
and other cutlery that were soaking in the sink.

He was down to his last square tupperware belonging to the Grover family when arms
wrapped around his middle and Steve pressed himself to his back. Harry hummed but made
no other move, dutifully scrubbing the corners where stubborn tomato sauce clung from the
deep dish pizza the family had brought over.

“You’re angry.” it was not a question and he didn’t treat it as one.

“It’s my job Harry and you know better than anyone why we keep secrets like this. To stop
the other from worrying and making mistakes on the job.”

“Having to get half of your partner’s liver is hardly a secret one should keep Steven.”

Steve rolled his eyes where his face was pressed into the back of his alpha, finger tips digging
lightly into his firm chest where they were snaked around his front.

“Neither is getting open heart surgery after being abducted and tortured for four months, but
there I was getting intel from Catherine who heard it from McAvoy, who heard it from
Samteel, who heard it from Roswell, who got it from her sister-in-law that was a nurse in the
hospital you were being treated at. Apparently she found disclosing information about a and I
quote ‘hot, single alpha she would gladly sponge bathe everyday’ was the needed gossip of
the navy intelligence system.”

Harry groaned at the reminder, a reminder that Steve would not let go despite it being almost
four years ago.

“You know why I chose not to tell you, and had the nurse not blabbered her mouth you would
not have known.”

“Exactly my point.”

“Your long thought dead mother had just come back into your life!”

“And you could have died without me knowing you complete asshole!" Steve snapped, face
red in anger but Harry could see the traces of hurt lingering in his eyes.

"I had to hear it as gossip on the fucking grapevine Harry, you were an afterthought to
someone’s gossip and I wouldn’t have known until it was too late! How is a liver transplant
any different from having your chest hacked open?!”
Harry let the dish fall back into the soapy water, spinning in his bare feet to match the glare
being directed at him.

Another reason as to why he was not a traditional alpha would be that any of the military
brats Steve had trained with would have had the man pinned by the neck three sentences in.

His hands clenched and loosened at his sides and the mutinous expression on Steve’s face
hardened even more, back straightening as if ready for a fight.

Taking a step forward he nudged Steve backwards until he was pressed against the island and
Harry buried his face into the sweet smelling neck that had always smelled like Home since
the first time they met were paired up together.

“I do not believe I properly apologized for that, have I?”

Steve smelled like the salt from the sea, coffee and cinnamon and all Harry wanted to do was
stay there forever.

“No. You haven’t.” the words were as stiff as his frame and Harry felt guilt shroud him like a
cloak.

Wrapping his arms around the omega’s frame he pulled him flush to his body, forehead
pressed to the shorter of the two so he could look into the blue eyes, his glasses long
forgotten in some part of the house half way through the party.

“I’m sorry I hurt you. I only thought about possibly yanking you away from your mother
after so long. I know how badly her death had hurt you and to be selfish enough as to request
you come over… I’m sorry Steven.”

“I was 16 and it numbed by then. Yours would have killed me.”

Harry made a sound reminiscent of a dying animal in the back of his throat at the declaration,
mouth opening to refute it but the feeling of the calloused palms on his cheek, a thumb
brushing over his lower lip made him pause.

“I couldn’t breathe Harry.” he whispered.

“When Cath told me about a British intelligence officer being rescued by some of our own,
badly beaten, evident torture wounds and so weak the S.E.A.Ls who saved him thought he’d
be dead in a few hours. I couldn’t breathe Harry. You were radio silent for months and no one
could tell me where you were because I didn’t have the clearance to know and you were not
my alpha on paper yet.”

“Steve I-”

“Doris was a huge part of who I became, she and my dad both, but you are my everything
Harry and I thought I would lose you without ever getting the chance to show you."

"I'm sorry, I'm so sorry Steve."

They remained like that in each other's orbit until the tears dried and all that was left was a
deep ache.

"I have eight years left, six if we want to be extra safe." Steve brought Harry's hand to the
hard plains of his stomach, the skin warm even under the shirt.

"I want to use these last few years filling this house with as much babies as I possibly can."

Harry's throat went dry at the declaration, green eyes steady on Steve's form as the former
SEAL slowly stripped until he was naked, the tattoo on his arm as bright in the moonlight as
the precum on his cock.

Steve rubbed his lower abdomen and smiled up at the taller male "One is already in here. Call
it omega intuition or whatever but I know, I can feel it."

Harry lowered himself to his knees before Steve whose breath hitched before he moaned
lowly when warmth encased his cock, legs spreading to accommodate the two fingers
prodding then pushing into his already wet hole.

"Harry..."

"Hmm?" swallowing the entirety of Steve down Harry the feeling of Steve surround him,
from the unusually thick omega prick in his mouth to the potent omega hormones filling the
room.

Steve was like his light at the end of the tunnel, his sole reason for continuing to life and
survive and overcome every obstacle in his way.

The reason why he rose the ranks until only two people could give him orders and why no
one would dare to step on his toes.

"Harry! Haa-nghnn! I'm..."

Hands curled into his hair and Harry let his face be fucked, used to it by now as he was every
atypical attribute his omega possessed. Steve was coming undone, head thrown back and
throat exposed as he ground his hips, cock rubbing the soft lining of Harry's throat making
the alpha gag a bit.

Pressing his fingers against his prostate, the area a bit swollen due to the uptick of mixing
pheromones Harry massaged it and soon after swallowed everything Steve gave him, the
commander shuddering and muscles drawn tight as his balls clenched again for a third time.
Swallowing every last drop Harry suckled the cock and then the tip before allowing the soft
member to slid out, Steve panting still and expression dazed.

"Come here luv."

Steve fell into Harry's arms like a drunk puppy, a whine leaving his throat when Harry picked
him up and took the stairs to lay him on the bed.

"Harry please, please."

"I know, I know. Show me."

The command had Steve raising his legs, his thighs spreading wide to show the wet pucker,
slick shining as it leaked from the hole and down the curve and crack of his ass.

"Please, please, please."

Harry tossed the light shirt to the side and stepped out of his jeans and boxers, the heat of
Steve's gaze making him smile as he guided the fat head of the alpha cock to the sopping
entrance.

The omega cried out when he was breached and the thick cock pushed its way inside the slick
smooth hole until Harry settled balls deep inside, the walls clenching around him, welcoming
and possessive.

"Shall I fuck you darling?"

Steve nodded, pupils blown wide until only a thin ring of blue could be seen and Harry
grinned, hips moving in a slow thrust and pull, cock dragging across Steve's sweet spot with
every movement until the omega was hard and leaking again.

Harry leaned his weight on the muscular thighs of his mate as his lazy thrusts picked up
speed, enough so to send Steve from begging to crying, hands scrambling for purchase as he
was fucked.

"Like this? You want me to fuck you like this baby?"

"Alpha... Harry!"

Steve's legs wrapped around his waist preventing the alpha from withdrawing more than a
few inches, the snaps of his hips centered on driving the cock hard and deep, Steve plaint and
sobbing by the time Harry's knot began to swell.

"I'm going to keep you nice and full of my pups Steve. I'll make sure you're never without a
baby in your belly and your cunt stuffed full with my knot."

"Mhmm! Alph-aah!"

"I'm going to breed you until all you know how to do is beg for it. I'll show everyone on this
island who you belong to Steve. Is that what you want?"

Steve though he was barely coherent nodded, nails digging into the meat of Harry's back
where there would surely be scratches and broken skin in the morning.

Steve cried out as he trembled, toes curling and back arching off the bed as the knot swelling
to completion in him set off his own orgasm, cum landing on his lips and neck while Harry's
flooded him, the alpha grunting into his neck as he filled him.

Panting into the dark hair of the only man he loved Steve rubbed soothing lines down the
strong back of his alpha, the man shuddering as he came again, heavy balls resting along the
 curve of Steve's ass clenching again.

Danny would have to get used to calling the shots sooner than later when Steve gave him the
reigns to handle stuff in the field while he remained in the office. No doubt Grover would get
a kick out of this before congratulating him, the older alpha sometimes being more fatherly
than he realized.

His partner would probably laugh his ass off and accuse Steve of going stir crazy in a month
or two and he'd probably be right but he had some catching up to do in terms of family.

"I love you." he murmured and Harry raised his head, green eyes bright as Harry gazed down
at him, hips stuttering a bit where they were still locked together.

"I love you too Steve."

Chapter End Notes

So Hawaii 5-O is ending. I'm not upset it is ending because I could the material was
starting to lack, but more so how they are choosing to end it. Like give us another
season to properly wrap stuff up, not a 2 hour episode.

Anywho, Bottom Steve is always a fav. Omega! Steve is practically life.

 Harry/Carl Grimes
Chapter Summary

It was weirdly therapeutic watching his molester be eaten alive. (Harry/Carl, The
Walking Dead, S4-Ep16)

Chapter Notes
See the end of the chapter for notes

It would not be the first time he was face down in dirt. As a kid he and his friends used to
tackle one another at the playground or the grassy backyard of their homes, it had been fun
because it was just play and he liked the roughness his mother never allowed and his father
was too wary to do around her.

This was different however.

During his times with his friends there was never a big sweaty hand squeezing his neck or
another trying to tug his pants down. He could hear his father begging and Michonne
shouting, their voices soft as if in a distance because all he could focus on was the wet
panting breaths against his cheek.

The hand slipped into the waist band of his jeans when the belt came undone and he resumed
his struggles even more earning the hand tightening around his neck.

He couldn’t move. He couldn’t escape. He couldn’t get away -

“Dad! Dad help me! Daddy!”

There was a struggle and Carl heard his father grunt in pain, a gunshot, another grunt of pain,
Michonne begging them to stop and Carl called for his father louder until the beefy hand
gripped his hair tight, lifting his head and slammed it hard against the ground.

Everything was muffled now but his other senses were on high alert.

He could smell the days old sweat from the man on top of him, the gunpowder on his
fingertips and the hard bluntness rubbing at the curve of his spine.

“Dad…”

The hand yanked down his jeans and Carl shivered at the coldness that lashed his skin and
Carl screamed for his father again, for Michonne who was more a mother than a friend, for
Daryl who was the weird stoic uncle, for anyone to help and save him because for once he
couldn’t save himself.
He was going to be raped wasn’t he?

A finger pushed his cheeks apart and Carl whimpered, eyes squeezing shut and body tensing
as disgust crawled up his throat and bile burned threatening to spill out as Dan - Dan the man
who was going to take him laughed in glee.

A deep growl filled the area and a hush fell over them and even delirious with fear Carl could
tell there was a sudden shift in atmosphere.

“What was that? You got a dog or somet’ing hiding in the woods? Huh? Answer you piece of
shit!”

“We don’t have a dog! Please just let the boy go, you don’t have to do this…”

Carl craned his head up when the hold loosened and he stared at Michonne who stared into
the barrel of a gun without unflinching as she begged for him to be spared, his father being
held at gun point as well as he swayed where he stood.

“If you don’t got no dog then what the fuck was that huh?!”

The sound came again, a deep rumbling thing which vibrated in his chest like a powerful
engine and Carl’s eyes widened when one of the men kicking Daryl got yanked into the
darkness.

There was a scream and then a crunch before silence descended again.

“Tony! Tony answer me!”

“What the fuck was that! What the fuck was the that!”

The men huddled closer together but not before another man cried out as he was tripped and
all the adults turned as one to watch a huge black dog bite into the man’s ankle white teeth
shining and eyes an eerie colour shining before it pulled him into the cover of the night as
well.

The screams lasted longer this accompanied by bestial snarls, a loud crunch filled the air just
like the first time.

Rick took the shock and used it, lunging forward not for the gun but for the pale throat
directly in his view, teeth sinking into soft skin until iron bubbled onto his tongue and he
yanked until skin gave away and warm blood stained his shirt.

He watched as the man stared in shock, too surprised to move his hands to try and stop the
blood flow, too dead to protest and Rick spat the mouthful of meat from his mouth, ears still
ringing from the gunshot and balance off even as Michonne killed her captor and rushed to
steady him, her gun pointed at Dan who was suddenly very alone.

Carl was dragged onto his feet, pants pooling around his ankles and if there was not a sharp
blade to his throat he would have felt embarrassed at being half naked before his adoptive
mother.
“I’ll kill the boy! Stay back!”

Carl tried to keep the tears at bay, tried to not breathe to deeply or sob or draw any attention
to himself because Dan’s hands were still on him, still touching him and it made him sick.

“You let him go! Now!”

“Shut up you bitch! I-I’m the one calling the shots here, you shut the fuck up and stay back or
I’ll kill him!”

The huge dog came back but until before it made no move to attack only trotting up to stand
beside Michonne who tried not to inch away from the mammoth of a dog, intelligent grey
eyes staring at the spot behind Carl and Dan.

“Tsk, tsk, tsk. Is that anyway to treat a lady Dan?”

The hand holding the blade shook and Carl without warning found himself forcefully turned
around and pushed towards the stranger who spoke, a boy close to his age, an older boy but a
teenager just like him.

“H-Harry you, why are you -” Dan’s eyes darted around the area as if looking for someone
else “Where’s your fa-”

“Dan.” Harry smoothly interrupted, hand curling around Carl’s shoulder as if they were close
friends and not strangers forced together in a fucked up situation.

“Let’s play a game.” there was a tilt of humor in the voice and Carl could do nothing but stare
at the chest draped in a dark green shirt with a leather jacket resting over the top. Leaning
away from him Carl fixed his pants smiling at Michonne and his father when the man made
an abortive move to get to him, the black dog snarling in warning

Carl had never seen four words create so much fear in a man before and Dan gave a full body
shudder, eyes wide and his chest heaving in panic, blade raising as if it would protect him
from the people around him.

“N-no… No! Fuck you Harry! I’m not playing any fucking game! Think I'm crazy enough to
listen to you huh? Crazy like your fucking old -”

“Sirius. Eat.”

There was no more humor to be found in his voice now and the dog black dog dubbed Sirius
advanced in an instant on the fat man who barely stumbled two feet back before the huge
animal lunged and took him down with it's weight.

Carl stared as sharp teeth tore through the shirt and into a fat belly, blood welling to the
surface before tissue, fat and his guts next. Dan screamed for help that would never come as
the animal dragged out his intestines, the red organs like freshly roped sausages. It was
weirdly therapeutic watching his molester be eaten alive, the knife useless in the face of rows
of sharp teeth and claws digging into his body.
Was it horrible of him that he was glad Dan was still alive through it all? That he could feel
every drag of his guts and flesh being torn away? Would he have felt any differently had the
man not been a few minutes away from raping him in front of his father and Michonne, all
the while laughing and whispering dirty things in his ear as if the words were meant to be
comforting.

Sirius’s teeth cracked through his rib cage, clamping it’s maw around Dan’s neck with a loud
crunch of bone and a spray of blood, and that was the end of that.

Carl continued to stare at the corpse of the man who had touched him, threatened him with a
fate possibly worse than death, whose hands pressed into his skin hard enough to leave
bruises. Evidence of what could have been, that lone finger pushing him apart to try to -

Leaning to the side he puked until he dry heaved when his stomach became empty, a warm
hand holding him up while a next brushed back his hair.

“Give me - give me my son, com’ere Carl.”

Carl found himself being pulled from one body to the next until the tired and bloody face of
his father came to view and the tears he thought had dried burned his eyes as they came
tumbling down once more. The sound he made was akin to a wail but the only thing Carl
wanted now was to bury himself in his father’s warmth, to just let him hold him and promise
him sweet things with a hint of revenge.

Michonne eased him from the death grip Rick held, thumbs brushing away the tears until he
could see she was crying too and maybe her hold on him was tighter than his dad’s.

“Who are you?”

Rick’s attention was on the young man who stared at the carnage which remained of the
Claimers, expression serene despite the remnants of flesh scattered around the area.

Carl sniffled and quickly wiped his face clean because trauma or not he couldn’t let the other
boy see him cry like Judith does, there was a certain code he remembered Shane and his
father telling him about one day in the back of the squad car after a run of donuts, coffee and
some fancy named not-coffee for him.

Shrugging Harry welcomed the black dog as it trotted over to him, long pink tongue licking
at it’s maw and Carl refused to look at what was left of Him .

“Harry.”

Kneeling down he ruffled the dark fur and Carl watched as a smile appeared on the older
boy’s lips as he was licked. It was not exactly repulsion he felt at the moment witnessing the
obvious affection but that same tongue had just been licking the bone marrow out of
someone.

“Harry who.” Rick pressed, gun in hand and blue gaze steely, the drying blood in his beard
and covering his mouth gave the impression of a madman but Harry only smiled.
“Does it really matter in this day and age? Am I gonna be arrested for breaking curfew
officer?”

“How do you know I was a cop?” suspicion decorated Rick’s voice and Carl tensed,
remembering people in the pre-apocalypse world who stepped on his father’s toes, it never
ended well but the older boy, Harry, barely looked bothered by the gun now pointed at him.

“Despite my good Samaritan efforts I was very acquainted with cops before the world went
topsy-curvy. Abused by my relatives, ran away, got dragged back only to be beaten some
more, starved occasionally before the government decided I was better off in an orphanage.
Turns out foster homes aren’t ideal either.”

Scratching the side of his neck Harry picked something from Sirius’ coat that looked
suspiciously like a piece of flesh, the pink thing being tossed to the side. Michonne tightened
her hold on Carl and Carl could see his father waver in the face of the story he was told, the
gun lowering for a few seconds before it was brought back up. The boy Harry looked bored
as if he had repeated the story over a dozen times and was tired of the script.

“How do they know you.”

That was the million dollar question, Dan having nearly shit his pants at the sight of Harry.
The strange boy was silent for a few moments, facial expression twitching as he
contemplated internally it seemed like before he shrugged, leather jacket moving with his
shoulders.

“They know my old man and so they know me. Before you ask, when I was around 13 a real
nice couple adopted me. My old man just so happens to have gained a reputation in this
lovely world.”

Rick’s expression soured some “How.”

Harry’s brow raised “How what?”

Carl could see from the slight tilt of his lips Harry was enjoying the little game of back and
forth, of baiting his father even with a loaded gun to his head and no weapon of his own.

“How did your father gain his reputation. Don’t make me ask again son.” the warning was
clear.

Harry stared down Rick and Carl wondered if his new found savior was suicidal or just plain
stupid but soon enough he sighed and stood, a wide yawn splitting his jaw.

“How do you think officer? He protected what was his, kept his territory and people safe
from people like Dissected Joe and Half-Eaten Dan there. People like my dad get a bad rep
because they don’t allow others to bully them, instead he gets to them first, a hierarchy if you
will.”

“And you’re here to keep that hierarchy in place? You’ve come for us?”
Harry gave him a queer look, confusion written all over his features “Dad doesn’t need any
help with keeping the peace, believe me.”

“Why aren’t you with him then, if he’s such a force to reckon with.”

“‘Cause I need some space to breathe sometimes. Believe it or not, father’s are super
overbearing when corpses try to eat your face. So I took a small detour from a tiny trip I was
sent on, so what.”

Carl could not believe the other boy had really run away during a zombie apocalypse just to
spite his father. The dog moved back to the corpse and took another bite, the fluffy black tail
wagging slowly.

“I was passing by when I recognized Dan and Joe. Obviously you three needed help and - as
bad as my old man is he doesn’t condone rape. Would you have liked it if I kept on my
way?”

Rick glared at the boy and Harry stared right back, neither giving in until Michonne softly
called Rick’s name and the gun was lowered.

“Thank-you… thank you for savin’ my boy.” there was raw emotion in the former cop’s
voice and Harry nodded.

Silence reigned the area over until Harry rolled his eyes, trotting back into the darkness to
gather a backpack. A bottle of water was tossed at Rick and a bag of chocolate coated
pretzels at Michonne who simply raised her brow.

Slinging the bag over his shoulder Harry adjusted the straps, whistling once to summon the
still feasting dog.

“Well it’s been great but I really should be on my way.”

“You’re travelling at night? That’s dangerous.”

The eye-roll was epic this time “I know, thanks.” came the dry reply and Harry winked at
Carl before turning on his booted heel, barely seven steps away before Carl called out to
him.

“Wait!”

There was a pause then green eyes were on him with mild curiosity and Carl swallowed,
determined not to look at his father’s disapproving face or Michonne’s silently calculating
one.

“H-How about you come with us? It’s safer in groups and we can - uh we can -” Carl
fumbled with the words because what exactly could they do for the other boy who saved their
lives?

“We can give you companionship, you and Carl look similar in age. It must get lonely talking
to a dog that can’t reply.” Michonne chipped in, voice as calm as ever along with her gaze
and Carl was eternally grateful to have her.

Harry looked amused, eyes lingering on Carl before settling on Rick, the man’s expression
pinched before he nodded.

Harry came closer again, the huge dog following closely at his heels and Carl watched as he
took in their surroundings, the corpse a few feet away and then Daryl who had remained
silent during the entire confrontation.

“Not like I have anything better to do, besides, it’s been a while since I met anyone my age.
Might be fun to hang out together yea?”

Carl nodded, smiling a bit at the other boy who had seen him at his worse and still wanted to
‘hang-out’. Did he even know how to hang out anymore? He suppose it would be like muscle
memory in riding a bike though every memory he held at the present time was killing walkers
or trying to find food and praying none of their rag-tag family had died during their eviction
from the prison.

Harry settled next to him after they found a new area to spend the night, the corpses taken
care of to prevent reanimation and the fire warming all four of them. Ignoring Rick’s scowl of
doom he pressed a Hershey chocolate bar into Carl’s hand.

“Y’know. To make you feel better, though a bath would help a lot more.”

There was a surety in his voice that made Carl’s heart stutter and his hands tighten around the
chocolate, from the corner of his eye his father stilled and Michonne’s lips thinned.

Carl laid between his father and Michonne that night as Harry kept first watch, Rick too tired
to protest much when Michonne literally knocked him upside the back of the head with a
sharp ‘go to sleep’, the woman settling down soon after giving Harry a long look that
promised retribution should he misplace her trust.

Looking at the other boy who sat on the other side of the fire, hand buried in the black pelt of
his canine Carl blushed slightly when his staring was caught and Harry grinned back with a
wink. The next morning a slightly less grumpy Rick announced they would be going to find a
place called Terminus to see if it was really the safe haven it was said to be.

Harry paused, expression scrunched and eyes accusing Rick of clearly being an idiot.

“That place is no good.”

The adults and Carl waited for an explanation, Harry slinging the backpack over his
shoulders and adjusting the straps before he answered.

“Oh, it’s full of cannibals. So like I said, no good. Unless you’re into vore and gore and weird
shit like that.”

A sharp whistle brought the dog to his side and Harry smiled at the three of them until Rick
groaned in frustration and started ahead. They would still be going to Terminus because there
was a good chance their people would head in that direction as well. Carl lingered to the back
 of their small group to walk beside the older boy, wearily eyeing the huge dog that seemed
both less and more terrifying in the bright daylight.

“Thanks for uh, thanks for the chocolate last night.” He mumbled lamely after stuffing his
hands into his pockets, ears pinking when Harry grinned down at him from the two inches he
had on Carl, green shining and a lone dimple along his right cheek.

“Anytime.” he slung his arm around Carl’s shoulder and tugged him close enough that Carl
could see the pink beginning of a scar along his forehead under the dark hair.

“ A chocolate bar is nothing. Believe me. Besides, you needed it.” Harry grinned again and
Carl watched as a pink tongue swiped to lick a bottom lip, his eyes following the retreat.

“Don’t worry Carl, I got you. We’re gonna have fun together, pinky promise.”

Somewhere between the camp and Terminus the next night Harry disappeared with Sirius and
Carl could not help but feel a bit betrayed by his absence, Michonne tugging him along after
an impatient Rick.

Inside his coat pocket were two more chocolate bars. One fudge caramel and the next cookies
and cream, a note written in a sharpie stuck to one.

Don't forget the cannibals. Want some place safe? Try this community called Alexandria.

See you later Carl. Pinky promise.

Chapter End Notes

The TWD chapter people have been asking for, part two is already being planned.

Uni is sucking the life out of me but I'm super excited for the next chapter I'm planning
on posting. Some good ole Teen Wolf!
 Harry/Derek Hale
Chapter Summary

Derek's phone is a dick. He gains a friend because of it. (Harry/Derek, Teen Wolf)

Chapter Notes
See the end of the chapter for notes

Harry dropped the plush toy and lego robot he held, the toys having been found in one plant
pot and stuffed behind the tv set, why? He would never understand the thinking of four year
old and their need to hide things around the house like paranoid hoarders, Teddy being
devoted to hiding his so called favourite toys each week and refused to sleep unless he had
them on the bed with him.

Seriously, the kid was adorable and Harry loved him to death but this demented game of
Find-The-Toys was a habit that needed to be broken soon.
“Holy shit…”

Harry barely paid Ron any mind, eyes still fixated on the screen in his living room where he
had been having a conversation with his best friends via chat. That very same two way
conversation had suddenly been hijacked to include another.

That said other was half naked, sweaty and very muscular with a healthy amount of definition
in his pectorals to make them - Harry swallowed - bounce .

“Ronald why are you curs- oh King Arthur’s shiny balls…”

Hermione stuttered in her chastisement of her husband and practically forced him from the
screen to ogle the jumping pecs, the sweat glistening just enough to make them shine along
with the first three of the possible eight pack.

“H-Harry, who is that? Why is there a silent half naked man exercising in our chat?”

Harry wanted to know exactly that and he only shrugged dumbly, eyes glued to the screen
and the high definition it was in. At least the extra money he spent on the tv was worth
something, even if that something was an impromptu PG-rated porno.

Perhaps the funny or devastating thing was the man on the other end had yet to realize his
phone had connected with their linked chat. There was no sound coming from his end so it
was possible the volume was muted or disabled so Harry had no way to alert him to the fact
he was jogging in front of three strangers.

Harry also knew it was perhaps a tad creepy standing there in his living room at four in the
evening staring at an unaware stranger but he was hardly a saint despite what people may say,
and goddammit raising a little boy from a new born to now four years old hardly left any time
for thoughts towards sex.

So who could blame him if he had become fascinated with the soft but yet still firm looking
chest of a faceless and voiceless man who by the brightness in the room was perhaps on the
other side of the world.

“Harry you really shouldn’t continue to stare, it’s indecent and an invasion of his privacy.”

Ron snorted from where he had been exiled away from the camera “But you’re staring too
‘Mione.”

“Oh hush Ronald, this is about Harry not me.”

“How about you both be quiet and let me gain some fuel for my dreams yea?”

“Harry!” Hermione’s scandalized gasp was drowned by Ron’s thunderous laughter and Harry
really could give a rats furry bottom about his friends at the moment.

As if the universe had decided time was up the volume on the stranger’s side suddenly came
on and the whirring of the treadmill was loud but not as loud as his pants for breath and shit -
Harry squeezed his crotch in a tight fist when his dick jerked from semi interested to fully
hard in an instant.

He could already imagine hearing those pants in several different and very distinct scenarios,
none involving a treadmill.

Hermione was giving the hairy eyeball from her half of the screen and Harry rolled his eyes
before clearing his throat loudly, the man looking down in confusion and then a shocked yelp
before he fell off the treadmill in a tumble of limbs.

“Holy shit dude are you okay?! What the hell happened?!”

Someone yelled from the other side of the video, still out of sight but as alarmed as Harry
was at the moment. Hermione had taken that moment to disconnect her end, leaving him to
deal with the possibly injured man Harry had played peaking Tom to.

There was a sound of movement, the treadmill whirring to a stop and then a scandalized and
very angry face with a five o’ clock beard appeared in front of the camera, the scowl on his
lips and the glare in his eyes could probably set someone aflame.

His cheek bones can probably cut a good sheet of glass Harry mused, giving a small wave to
the obviously handsome angry man. Harry’s eyes dropped lower to the stranger’s lips,
another canister of fuel for his dreams tonight.

“What the hell - who the hell are you? Why are you connected to my phone?”

Ah, an American… at least his voice was pleasant, unexpected from such a big man but
lovely nonetheless.

“I’m afraid you have things a tad mixed up. You are the one who connected to my chat, my
friends who left just after your tumble can testify to that. There was no sound on your end so
the volume must have been muted and I am no where near the keyboard to have sent you a
message.”

The man glared even harder before sighing loudly, the downright beautiful eyes closing and a
hand coming to massage his forehead and Harry watched as the anger slowly disappeared
from his features until they softened some.

“My phone had been giving a few issues as of late, it must have done another weird trick and
connected to your line. I’m sorry, I don’t know why it’s doing what it’s doing.” half naked
stranger admitted and Harry found himself nodding along.

There was snort from somewhere off screen and the man glared towards the left.

“Dude you dropped the phone in a sink full of soapy water and greasy plates.”

Someone else distinctly female laughed “You also dropped it down the stairs last week.”

Another male chimed in “And I also stepped on it after you left it on the floor by the the
door…”
Harry found his eye brows raising with every declaration of neglect, half-naked stranger’s
eyebrows furrowing with each sentence by the three invisible witnesses Harry could not see.

Snorting he laughed a bit when the glare was now directed at him, the tip of the stranger’s
ears burning red.

“Sorry, it won’t happen again.” came the biting reply and Harry silently bemoaned the lost of
American stranger when the screen went black, the words ‘Video Call Ended’ blinking on the
screen.

Well, at least he had enough wanking material to last a good long while.

“Teddy! Come along, it’s time to visit aunty Hermione and uncle Ron!”

A text apologizing for the sharp end to a conversation where Half-naked Stranger said
“Entirely my fault and my stupid phone.” came a few days later and Harry stared at the
message for a few minutes before finally typing back.

It is perfectly fine. Accidents happen.

If you say so.

I do say so. How are you after the tumble?

What?

Harry rolled his eyes, side eyeing Teddy who was building a precarious tower of building
blocks with his favourite action figure at his side.

After discovering you had company you tripped and fell from the treadmill.
Are you okay? No injuries?

The message was read and left unanswered for a few minutes before Harry’s phone chimed
with a new reply.

I’m fine.

And if that was not the universal answer for those who did not know or trusted to express
their emotions then the sky was not blue.

“You fell rather hard. Are you sure nothing is bruised or broken?”

The message was read and left unanswered for over ten minutes now before another came in.

“I’m fine. Why.”

“Because it is polite to wonder if the man you surprised into falling from a treadmill was
okay and recovered.”
“I’m fine.”

“Okay, as you say. Happy to see that.”

The chat came to a crawl after that, Harry tucking the phone away to assist Teddy who stared
in disbelief as his tower came tumbling down after the fact he knocked the action figure into
it. This kid was lucky he was cute.

Derek stared at the eight words over and over again until he felt too silly to reply and simply
closed the app, the phone that caused the entire incident looking brand new except for a small
crack along the side.

It was laughing at him.

Erica and Isaac were laughing at him.

Said two betas were on the couch watching some anti-superhero show, Erica sprawled half on
top of Boyd like he was a big human chair with Isaac tucked into the bigger beta’s other side.
Boyd just remain impassive as he did in everything troublesome, not even twitching when
hunters tried to kill him or when Erica did something eccentric.

Derek had made the best choice in biting him, his other two betas were options he should
have revised.

Carefully.

With a fine toothed comb.

“Was that your British sugar daddy?” Erica chimed in from her position on her boyfriend,
Boyd’s dark eyes rolling but otherwise remaining still when she wiggled.

Derek ignored the blond as he did in most things because how was he to know Erica would
become a terror when bitten?

“Easy on the eyes too though a little tired looking. Do you think he’s into guys Der?”

She was egging him on that much he knew, so Derek kept focus on the lettuce he was
chopping and not on his troublesome beta whom he wished still lacked control just so he
would have an excuse to chain her up in a basement.

“And he certainly didn’t mind being all up close and personal with your chest.”

“Erica…”

Derek could hear the pout from the other side of the room and the lone female of the group
fell silent under Boyd’s gentle admonishment.

Later that night when the three had found their way out his home and to their shared
apartment Derek stared at the conversation again. The man probably meant nothing in
showing his concern but Erica’s goading got to him and he wondered if there might be a
reason to the interest towards him beyond making sure he didn’t break his neck.

This was perhaps not the most normal conversation or a normative mode of meeting he knew
that much, and typically people who get invasive chats might block, delete and report said
number but here they were - conversing .

Despite what Stiles said Derek was not a caveman, he could have normal adult conversations
if he so wished. It wasn’t his fault that Stiles and Peter were practically the same soul split in
two and could talk for hours on end about weird shit like the male foreskin, the history of
circumcision and mating rituals.

Derek could have am ordinary human conversation without grunting, glaring or even minutes
long silence. Stiles knew nothing, his uncle knew nothing and his pack members definitely
knew shit.

He could be social.

Pressing open the chat Derek typed whatever first came to mind and sent it before he could
regret it. Quickly shutting the phone down he tucked it under the other pillow. Out of sight,
out of mind.

It was barely three minutes before a ‘ping’ alerted him and Derek wearily without high hopes
or expectations dragged it out from under the pillow to check the sender. The number was
still long and foreign but the message had been answered.

I’m sorry again for the flashing.

Really, you don’t have to apologise again.

It really was not horrible at all, in fact I would say it was a very lovely late afternoon
surprise.

Derek could feel heat rising along the tip of his ears at the genial compliment.

You do?

Yes I do. Can I assume people do not compliment you often?

No.

People stared, whispered about him to their friends but no one beyond his pack outwardly
complimented him to his face with the exceptions of a few dirty comments.

Well that’s a load of bollocks. Are the people in your country blind or just lacking in taste?

That brought a smile to his face at the rather dry comment and Derek despite himself found
his fingers typing again seconds after reading.

Maybe both?
Well I assure you that you are a very lovely sight to behold.

Derek squirmed where he laid, eyes hungrily re-reading the sentence again and again.

I am?

Yes you are. Honestly, I’m starting to believe the people over the pond really are blind.
Devastatingly handsome men like you might as well be unicorns.

Snorting Derek rolled his eyes are the silliness of the text.

This unicorn has a name.

And what may I call this unicorn?

Biting his lip he wondered if he really should say. There was a good chance the conversation
would end and he would be forgotten soon after. His personality wasn’t shining and being
social for too long was taxing but -

Derek.

Hello Derek.
My name is Harry. It’s lovely to put a name to the chest.

Same.
Well not chest, but y’know, the face and voice.

I need to go for now.

Sending my troublesome munchkin off to school always requires full concentration.

You have a kid?

Four years old and as hyper as a fox on crack.

Derek laughed aloud.

My condolences.

Thank-you.
Later lovely unicorn.

I have a name remember?

I know.

But it is always good manners to remind someone of their beauty and rarity.

Derek’s cheeks burned this time and he closed his eyes for a few seconds to allow the words
to sink in and for him to push away the butterfly like feeling with a great dose of disbelief.
It must be quite late over on your end. Get some sleep.

It was more so gentle prodding than an order and the alpha part of him twitched at being
given a command but Derek listened nonetheless.

Ok.

His message was read and Derek turned the phone off and rolled over.

The should have been one off conversation turned into a daily occurrence with Derek actually
looking forward to seeing the man’s name pop up and instead of the slow replies he gave his
pack when they just wanted idle conversation he replied in an instant if his hands weren’t
covered in some monsters guts.

Harry talked about mundane things and Derek responded.

Harry spoke about his friends and son. His many nieces and nephews from the assortment of
friends he had gained over the course of his boarding school education.

Sent him photos of desserts he baked for a school fair and random images of random shit that
was such a dad move even Derek had the space to tease him about it.

Derek in return told him about his pack disguised as a rag-tag family because there was no
way he was busting out the biggest secret of his life just yet. A story of how he was in a
mentor-ish relationship with teenagers and his sarcasm riddled uncle being one of two family
members left alive.

Harry never prodded and Derek never explained why.

Every now and then something would be said that made his insides twist warmly and his ears
turn red, Harry’s method of flirting was to compliment him into oblivion. It was not done
every day or even every week but consistently enough Derek wondered if he should take
them to heart to mean something extra.

A part of him wanted extra while the other half reminded him that extra always seemed to go
side-ways and blow up in his face.

A voice which sounded suspiciously like Stiles called him a martyr and a sucker for guilt.

What happened with Kate was something he would shoulder for the rest of his life and he
knew his trust issues ran as deep as the ocean but he was a lot better compared to when he
had first come back to Beacon Hills.

Then there was Jennifer to consider as well...

Trial and error. Near lost of his betas, near destruction of the pack he shakily built and broke
all at once. Now they were whole and not the miserable teenagers but near adults and all over
the legal age of consent otherwise Derek was sure the Sheriff would have thrown Peter in jail
by now with five bullets in his ass and one in his dick.
He would always blame himself for the fire but his therapist had said he should not let it stop
him from living.

Uncle Peter had said pretty much the same but with more sarcasm.

I honestly have no idea what to do. I tell him not to run, he runs and falls.

I tell him to walk, he walks and falls. My kid has two left feet.

Derek chuckled in the face of Harry’s dillenma of Teddy who was his adoptive son,
previously godson whose parents died and grandmother followed due to grief.

He’ll grow out of it.

My youngest sister used to trip on flat ground until she was maybe 7.

Oh? And how is she now?

A terror.

That in no way consoles me for the future Unicorn.

Oh, should I have comforted you? My bad.

So mean to me, after I fill you up to the brim with laughter and joy.

Maybe you should try a different method of filling me up.

There was a lull in the conversation and Derek bit his lip, re-reading his overly suggestive
text and wondered if perhaps he had crossed a line. The sound of an incoming message
should not have made him so antsy but it did and he swallowed, nervous at the prospects of
having just royally fucked up.

Is that an offer Derek?

The use of his name made him sit up straight on the couch where he had been lounging.

Harry religiously used the nickname Unicorn for the five months they were conversing like it
was on his birth certificate and not Derek Michael Elijah Hale.

Seeing his name being used sent a jolt down his spine. There was no point in being coy.

Yes.

There was delicious tension between them now and despite the hundreds of miles of ocean
between them Derek could feel the electricity sparking, heat pooling in his belly and his
mouth running dry.

I’ll be sure to remember that for future reference.

Derek whimpered and pressed his thighs together as if it would stop the steady swelling in his
jeans or make the rabbit quick beat of his heart settle.
 He shouldn’t be this bothered over a man not even close to his location, shouldn’t even
considered anything physical when physicality was impossible.

“Shit…”

It’s approaching 2am here now unicorn, I really must go.

Ok. The meeting is later right?

Some huge fancy meeting between Harry and ‘stuffy old men who couldn’t find their balls’
or something along those lines. The Englishman sound exasperated whenever he spoke of it
and Derek wondered what it was all about.

That it is.

Good-luck .

Does a kiss come with that luck?

I’ll bite you. Go to bed.

I bite back, I promise you.

Derek was most definitely hard now and he sent a shooing GIF causing Harry to send back
three laughing emojis.

Staring at the tenting in his jeans Derek could easily summarize he was perhaps way over his
head.

Chapter End Notes

I'll have this as a separate series. Be on a look out for it~

I hope everyone is safe out there, remember to build your immunity!

 Harry/Logan
Chapter Summary

Logan's nose had yet to lie to him, and up this close he could practically smell the power
coming from the man. (Harry/Logan, Pre- The Last Stand)

Chapter Notes
See the end of the chapter for notes

This was like a game of cat and mouse or maybe more accurately a game of seek and ignore
because Harry was being steadily ignored by the cigar smoking, whiskey drinking man he
had stalked for over two hours.

Logan from what he gathered had the abilities of a wolf with keen sense of smell and hearing,
some speed as well and definite strength enhancement, nothing too fancy. His key abilities
were super healing, adamantium claws and the inability to die.

The golden spinner took Harry to a snowy place where the pine trees were covered in snow
and the people bundled up almost comically, so far only he and Logan were commonly
dressed, the chain smoker having on a simple jacket and Harry in his previous clothing. He
found the man walking through the town, expression gruff and body big enough to warn
anyone off before he settled in a bar, cigar and whiskey never leaving his grasp for too long.

Harry knew he had been noticed a long time ago, a slight tensing of broad shoulders
confirmed his assumption but Logan remained calm in an otherwise tense situation.

He watched from across the bar as Logan stood up, slammed a couple bills on the counter
and left, Harry following without shame and not even pausing when he was led to an isolated
area deep in the forest. His dick twitched and he could feel his magic humming under his
skin.

Turning around Logan blew a cloud of smoke into the chilly air his shoulders rolling “What
do you want bub.”

Harry gave him a lazy smile “Would you believe me if I said you?” Logan snorted around the
cigar and Harry shrugged.

“What d’you need me for, I don’t feel like fighting today.” Logan’s eyes narrowed as Harry
surveyed his body, green eyes trailing over the bit of hair peaking at the top of his shirt, the
firm chest and trim hips to settle on his crotch. “Hey, where the hell are you looking?”

There was a slight hesitance in his gruff tone as if any sexual observation of his body was
foreign and Harry was half hard now, Logan’s nose flaring and Harry wondered if the man
could smell the lust wafting from him. His disgruntled visage was now slightly wary and
Harry’s smile widened.

“Like I said, I’m here for you. Not to fight but if you resist things may go a little... rough. My
name is Harry by the way.”

Logan’s eyes narrowed at the threat “You don’t know what you’re getting into bub, I suggest
you turn around and leave before you get hurt.”

Harry’s smile turned to a grin and he splayed his hands palm up “I don’t mind your sharp bits
Logan, it’s what I plan to place there is what matters.”

Logan chanced to look down to where Harry was pointing towards his middle and when the
Wolverine looked back up he found himself with a hand around his throat, loose for now but
the flexing of fingers told him it could change very quickly.

He swallowed slowly, adams apple brushing the slightly calloused palm of the man who was
obviously a mutant because no normal human could move so quickly unnoticed, especially
enough to sneak up on him .

His nose never lied, had yet to fail him after so long and with every passing century it seemed
to only get stronger and right now he could practically smell the power radiating from the
stranger.

He could fight, try to escape, but Logan knew he would lose and so far the only hostile action
was the sudden sneak up, the fingers brushing over his pulse were gentle and non-threatening
despite their place on his very vulnerable neck.

“What do you want.” he asked again, heart pounding in a way it hadn’t since the experiments
done to him and he accepted with a boiling shame that he was afraid.

Harry leaned in closer, nose brushing over the furry cheek “I want you Logan. Your body,
your patience, your devotion. You will be one of the many who will help me rebuild my race,
to help return The Mother to her glory.” he crooned, his other hand pressing lightly to the
muscles mid-section and Logan grit his teeth as the warmth from the finger tips suddenly turn
scorching, whatever was done taking seconds but the after effects left him panting.

“Wha…” he swallowed and licked dry lips “What are you talking ‘bout. What race, what
mother.”

Harry hummed and peered into the light brown eyes, the hand resting on Logan’s belly
sliding under the old and worn shirt to rest on his bare skin and received a hiss at the apparent
sensitivity.

Fingers moving upwards to the man’s nipples, the nubs already hard due to the cold but a
slight touch had the near immortal trying to get away, a small sound escaping his lips.

“My people were slaughtered by muggles - common humans and their weapons of
destruction. I am the last of my race, of my species and it is up to me to rebuild. The Mother
is my peoples Goddess, a deity of great power that sustains us and gifts us our abilities, a
symbiotic relationship. She provides us with power and life and we give her nourishment in
return.”

Harry explained as he casually undressed the man, the cigar snuffed out in the snow where it
had been dropped minutes earlier. Logan was still frozen and Harry wondered if it was
animal instinct, that drove the preternatural stillness.

“And you need me to do this?” the skepticism was clearly heard and Harry smiled all
indulgent as he caressed the furry chest and abdomen, the hand now free of the other’s neck
dipped to rub slow circles upon his lower back before dipping into the undone jeans.

“You and others like you. Those with supernatural abilities, the so called Heroes of the
world.”

Logan grunted and whether it was from the two fingers Harry wiggled inside of him or from
the information Harry cared very little to know. He pushed his fingers knuckle deep, lube
easing the passage somewhat but dear Merlin was the man tight. He couldn’t wait to sink into
his ass.

“Why are you telling me all this, not afraid I’ll blab?” Logan asked, shuddering when his
body lit up from the inside as the fingers rubbed over a spot, his own hand digging into the
rough bark of a tree to steady his suddenly weak legs.

Harry raised an amused brow “I could care less if you tell anyone, it won’t do a thing to
change the outcome of the end.” Logan’s pants dropped to the snowy ground and he hummed
in appreciation when the other stepped out of them without prompt, a reward of pressure
added to his prostate made the gruff man’s knee’s give out and Harry looked down at the
panting mutant, tanned skinned skin flushed and the smell of cigars should not be so
appealing but it was.

Letting his own cock spring free the length slapping Logan on the nose, brown eyes widening
at the sight of it.

Coaxing him Harry moaned as clumsy inexperienced lips wrapped around the tip, an almost
shy tongue pressing into the slit before dipping into the foreskin. Honestly Harry could not be
blamed for taking Logan’s head in hand and forcing the entirety of the fat cock down his
throat, the struggle the hero put up only made the moment sweeter.

Logan gagged around the intrusion in his throat, esophagus bulging and eyes watering with
the only thanks to his healing abilities to stop him from puking, it did nothing to stop him
from gagging however.

Looking to the man he tried to breathe through his nose as his face was fucked, the long thick
cock pummeling him where no other had ever been over and over again until Logan felt
delirious from the lack of oxygen, his own cock was hard against his belly and his asshole
felt empty from the lack of fingers.

“Gguhh…! Ack!”
Harry rolled his hips and rutted into the convulsing warmth, saliva dripping past Logan’s lips
and Harry grinned wide enough to mimic a maniac as the hero’s eyes began to rolled back
slightly. Taking pity on the man he stepped back, cock slithering from his gullet like a long
wet snake and Logan gasped, coughing and gagging where he bowed over in the snow.

Laying flat on the snowy ground, a summoned thick winter quilt under him he pat his lap and
Logan hesitated before crawling the short two feet to straddle the stranger who flippantly told
him to call him Harry .

“I like you Logan so I’ll treat you well. Turn around for me Luv and let me loosen you a bit
more before we get started.” Harry tapped his lips with the two fingers that were still slick
with lube from where he shoved them up Logan’s ass and the mutant grunted, turning around
so his ample ass hovered over Harry’s face, the Wizard rolling his eyes at the obvious
embarrassment before pulling him down the remainder of the way.

It took a shorter time than Harry expected before Logan was riding his face, the mutant hero
gasping behind a hand as Harry fucked him with a magically elongated tongue so the warm
muscle wiggled and curled along his passage, flicking his sweet spot enough times Logan’s
cock drooled continuously along Harry’s chest.

“St..top… I ca-can’t…” Logan groaned low and long, walls contracting around Harry’s
tongue “‘Unna cum… gunna fucking cum… fuck!” the sound Logan made as he came was
music to Harry’s ears, hot cum splattering him on the chest before Logan went limp.

Rearranging the blissed out man onto the quilt, a sticking charm holding it in place he spread
the firm surprisingly fairly hairless cheeks to stare at the fluttering hole, the saliva slicked rim
gaping slightly.

Tapping his erection against the loosened hole he pressed the wide head to it and slowly sank
in, Logan’s asshole swallowing him in eagerly drawing a broken cry from the man.

Harry had intended to take it slowly but the velvet tightness around him propelled him to
fuck Logan nice and hard, the ass his hips were pressed again bouncing with every smack.
There was resistance deep within the man but soon enough Harry felt something give way,
Logan trying to crawl away from him at the tearing within his guts but firm hands kept him
still.

“It’s okay Luv, that’s normal.” Harry panted “It was just your cunt getting broken into.” he
braced himself on Logan’s back, angling his hips and thrusts downward until the Wolverine
cried out and a fresh wetness filled his hole, slick bubbling to the surface to dribble out of his
spread wide ass. “That right there is your pussy and this…” he shoved his cock the rest of the
way and Logan screamed as he came again “...is your womb.”

“I’m going to breed you Logan, fuck you nice and full with my kid until you can’t see your
fucking feet. None of that silly hero business anymore, no saving foolish greedy humans. All
you will need is your baby in your belly and then in your arms before I put another in you.”
Harry belatedly realized he got off on this kind of talk, on the action of inseminating
practically unwilling men and shit, he was about to cum.
 “Your code name is Wolverine isn’t it?” Logan was far from lucid, his hips pushing back into
the pounding hips, fingers griping the quilt as if it were a life line and sounds of pleasure
freely leaving his mouth.

“Hgnn! Ahh! Mhmm!”

Harry let the magic focus at the base of his cock until he felt the tissue begin to expand and
balloon, his thrusts forcing the magically induced knot into Logan’s hole until the rim
clenched down over the bulbous ending, cock pressed as deep as it could within the hero and
Harry finally let go.

Pulling Logan up so the man sat in his lap, powerful thighs splayed wide and prostate being
pressed onto without cease Harry watched as he came again, a long jet of white shooting
from the tip and then a clear liquid. Laughing he harassed Logan’s abused prostate again,
another shudder wracking the muscled frame before he pissed himself again.

Casting a warming charm around them Harry took his time in caressing the growing stomach
as his cum filled the other, belly expanding slowly and knot preventing a drop from escaping,
Logan moaning low when his neck was worried by persistent teeth. Pulling out from the hero
when the knot deflated the rush of cum melting the snow when it slipped from the spelled
quilt and Harry spelled the unconscious man’s clothes back on, wrapping the magicked
blanket around his frame.

“I shall be back for you soon Logan. You and my baby both, to take you to The Plains.” he
had delved into the memories while Logan slept and saw just how much pain the other had
gone through.

“You won’t have to worry about anything ever again.” nuzzling the furry cheek he cast a
protection charm around the area before spinning the golden piece around his neck and
Logan awoke alone and sore.

Chapter End Notes

The wizarding world was destroyed by humans after they were discovered and Harry is
the last remaining magical person alive.
Mother Magic and Death sent him to a parallel universe where wizards don't exist but
the world isn't dying and so the only way to repopulate his people is to find suitable
'mothers' in Earth's strongest i.e Heroes and some Villains before exacting his revenge
on the muggles. So this Harry is basically super-powered and has very little morals.

The Plains - a dimension created by Mother Magic in Harry's image of a utopia of sorts.

Golden spinner i.e 'the golden piece around his neck' - is a revamped time turner that lets
him travel to different areas where Heroes are located, it also has the ability to travel in
alternate universes.
I may expand on this in a series, I dunno. Right now I'm doing everything except what I
should be really doing i.e assignments. Procrastination is a bitch but she loves me.

I hope everyone is still as safe as can be, remember to keep your immunity up!
 Harry/Homelander
Chapter Summary

All Homelander wanted was a firm hand around his throat and someone to call him a
good-boy. (Harry/Homelander|John, The Boys)

Chapter Notes
See the end of the chapter for notes

Homelander whined around Harry’s cock, jaw opened obscenely wide to fit the inhuman
length in and down his throat. It had taken weeks for him to finally be able to swallow the
thick cock, weeks for his asshole to take it completely until Harry could smugly say he was
balls deep in him.

Not that Harry was ever really smug or malicious or vindictive or any of the emotions many
at Vought held towards him behind sweet smiles fearful gazes.

“Such a good boy.” the murmur was followed by a hiss and then a low groan of pleasure, the
hand in Homelander’s hair petting the blond tresses making him whine again.

Suckling the tip he played with the slit, savoring each and every fat drop of salt-tinged
precum, the taste one of his favorites in a world of mundane shit, where everything was the
same and everyone blurred into one predictable mess of human stupidity.

He gagged a bit when Harry thrust into the wetness of his mouth because despite being able
to deepthroat the man his cock was still too much to handle without preparation. He didn’t
mind, he liked it when Harry’s restrict slipped away, loved it when he received the full
unbridled affection and desire.

“Mhmm!” closing his eyes until the blond lashes obstructed his view of Harry, he took the
cock further and further until all 11 inches of hard, unbelievably thick meat settled snuggly in
the depths of his throat, the length throbbing, pressing against his esophagus until it bulged.

It felt amazing. He felt used and loved and Harry’s hand though firm was gentle.

“Ahghn! Nghnn!”

Homelander’s hips jerked as the vibrator was amped up, the massager snug against his
prostate increasing in speed and the supe really did choke on Harry’s cock this time as he
tried to swallow the sounds of his orgasm, cum dribbling from his own dick and down to the
hardwood floor.
He was choking but he didn’t dare pull away because he was a good boy and only when
Harry’s hand pulled him off did he allow himself to cough and then breathe.

“John! John what did I tell you?” large hands cradled his face and Homelander let the feeling
of warmth flood him even as he continued to sputter.

“Honestly what will I do with you hm?” fingers carded through his hair, scratching the spot
towards the back to the left until he melted again, nosing the spit slick cock, tongue tracing
the veins underneath the heavy shaft with attentive patience until it once again met the tip.

“Fuck me?” John offered, a cheeky smile on his pink swollen lips and Harry laughed either at
his face or what he suggested, hands hauling him up and John moaned into the kiss he was
given, tongues twisting around one another, Harry tugging him closer until Homelander
allowed himself to be devoured.

Breaking apart, a line of drool connecting them, Homelander panting while Harry looked a
little bit disheveled. The green eyes that had the ability to pierce his soul pinning him where
he kneeled between the pale muscled legs, tightly corded muscles he had licked days before
on his venture to the prize between Harry’s legs.

“Do you deserve to get fucked John?”

Homelander’s gaze diverted to the side, blue staring out the huge windows he could never see
within when outside, the sky was as blue as his eyes, cloudless and cheerful unlike him.

“No.”

Harry’s hands caressed his jaw again and he went willingly down, mouth opening and tongue
hanging as he once again accepted what he craved, the heavy cock rooting itself back into his
windpipe until all he could taste and knew was Harry.

“Hands behind your back.” he followed the instruction, locking both hands behind him.

When Harry thrust into his mouth Homelander’s toes curled. The second, third,
immeasurable shifts of the man’s hips propelling the cock out and cascading into his
esophagus were punishing, each shove as delicious as it was brutal and the leader of The
Seven let himself be used, vision blurry with tears but he was happy, deliriously happy.

His cock bobbed between his legs, a thin line of precum hanging from the tip, the vibrator
still buzzing in his ass and his mind was going blank. He didn’t want to think, he just wanted
to feel and be touched and be fucked.

Harry was his beacon of light in the dark and dreary world that was earth and it’s trash. The
one person whom he believed could save him from himself and the mechanisms of Vought.
Of the curse that he was being a fabrication of nature. An abomination.

He wanted to shout at Harry to fuck his face harder, to shove his cock so deep down into his
throat he felt it in his weeping asshole, the lube sliding out and down his thighs because
Harry never seemed to under the concept of him wanting a little pain.
“Aghn! Ahhn! Ngh!”

Each hard shove was bringing him closer to another orgasm, the seventh since he arrived at
the man’s loft practically salivating, his asshole clenching with the need to be filled.

“Shit… John…” the tendons of Harry’s neck was always a sight to see, powerful broad
shoulders, a body honed and crafted with a litany of old scars and wounds decorated his
abdomen and back. A work of art.

He would never allow another to do this to him. In his relationship with Maeve he had taken
control, fucked her until her legs trembled and pussy clenched down hard enough around his
cock he felt as though her walls would snap it in half.

She was a good fuck, always willing and ready after a long boring day of saving humans. But
she could never measure up to what he wanted. Not in ruthlessness nor in domination.

He didn’t want to be in control, he didn’t want to call the shots or be at the forefront of the
fight. He wanted to be directed, to have a firm hand in his hair - Harry.

To have someone call him a good boy, darling boy, sweet boy, darling John - Harry .

To pet his hair and kiss him on the forehead - Harry .

To fuck him into the mattress, walls, floor, kitchen island, shower, bathtub, the study table,
over the toilet - Harry

To choke him and tell him to take his cock, to cradle him after he came so many times his
super healing could no longer keep up and his balls ran dry - Harry .

To fuck him so deeply his consciousness slipped and he floated on a plain beyond earth and
he woke up wrapped in strong arms and a blanket, hot chocolate sitting nearby for him -
Harry .

HarryHarryHarryHarryHarry HarryHarry

Homelander’s eyes widened when the positions were switched and he found himself on the
couch, Harry trapping him between his thighs. This angle was new and each drive of Harry’s
hips sent a pleasurable jolt down his spine until he was cumming.

He was cumming again from a cock down his throat. Harry's cock.

Blue eyes rolling back his back arched as he orgasmed for the eighth time, warm cum
splattering along his stomach and the back of Harry’s thighs. A few seconds later he found a
new reason to choke as Harry came, hot cum flooding and pouring down into his belly.

Harry groaned, weakly sinking once more in Homelander’s wetness before pulling out.
Staring down at the gaping mouth, Homelander’s tongue still out and his tanned skin flushed
red. Leaning down he pressed a kiss to the sweaty cheek, then another to his forehead,
brushing the damp hair away from his face.
“You were wonderful darling. Always such a good boy for me.”

A bit of clarity returned to the sharp blue eyes and without prompt, the supe climbed to his
feet, legs unsteady but he did not have far to go, draping himself over the couch he pulled the
vibrator out, the toy sliding from him to leave him aching from the emptiness.

“Please Harry… I want - I need you.”

Homelander arched his back so his supple ass was on full display, hands spreading his cheeks
apart, two fingers prying the wet and ready hole wider so Harry could see for himself just
how soft his insides were.

“I-I’m ready, please Harry, pleasepleaseplease!”

A warm hand pressed to his lower back, a calloused thumb brushing over the pink pucker and
John shivering at the brief contact, the sensible part of Homelander’s brain, the logical
section that never shut off except for when he was being fucked into oblivion whispered
Nullification.

“It will hurt, you still need stretching John. Sometimes I think you forget what I am.”

Three lubed fingers poked at the hole, his hands being swatted away until only Harry’s
remained and Homelander gasped as the long digits spread him open again, a slight burn
racing along his spine.

“I de-deserve ah… I deserve it so just - mhhm!” biting his lip Homelander rocked back onto
the digits fingering him and he splayed his legs further apart, pressure tingling the already
sensitive prostate until he mewled.

“You deserve nothing but happiness John. Pleasure, happiness, long life and more. I don’t
blame you, I will never blame you.” Harry retorted, voice as calm as ever without a negative
inflection and John soaked in each word and syllable.

Another finger added, a hiss leaving him before Harry could soothe the ache.

Sometimes he really did forget what Harry was, what he was capable of and what he had
done as well.

His super healing would not work near the dark-haired man, would not activate again until
the other stopped touching him and -

Homelander shuddered as his cock jerked, cum dripping from the leather cushion of the
couch, balls clenching for two more spurts of white juices before he could breathe again.

Nullification of all powers of any Supes within an unknown radius. Harry never specified and
no digging Homelander had done relinquished any results on the man who could turn them
human by just being near them.

“There we go, darling… I think you’re ready now.”

The leader of The Seven peaked back to watch Harry rub a generous amount of lubricant
over the still hard shaft, heavy balls resting underneath before facing forward again.

Blunt warmth pressed against his hole and his heartbeat sped up in anticipation.

Harry watched as his cock slowly speared the hero called Homelander, his pucker spreading
like a flower unfurling to allow his cock passage one grueling fat inch by fat inch. Small
sounds left the Hero of Heroes, the man worshipped by the humans who knew nothing but
the mask he wore like a second skin and the naive heroes who saw him as a role model.

He didn’t take it slow because today was not one of those days where he could slowly and
patiently wring orgasm after orgasm from him, coax him into the tub for another round and
then a few more times back in the bedroom.

Today John did not want to be loved he wanted to be screwed and so Harry complied.

Slamming home in one smooth slippery push he relished in the sound of the hero screaming
in a mixture of pain and pleasure, his scream tapering off into gasping moans as Harry rode
his ass for all it was worth.

He watched as strong hands gripped the leather cushions, had his powers not been nullified
his couch would be a ruined mess by now and he rather favored the piece of furniture.

“Agh! Ah! Mhm- fuuuuck!”

“Language.” he muttered out of habit and increased the speed, the sound of his hips
connecting with Homelanders ass would forever be one of his favorite sounds and what an
ass it was. The cheeks plump with muscle enough to have a jiggle to them that they bounced
upon each thrust.

There would be bruises on the tanned hips when he was finished, his hold painfully tight no
doubt but John wished to be punished. Allowing a bit of super-speed to filter into his system
Homelander cried out from the viciousness of the fuck.

“H-Hurts!”

“But you’re about to come again aren’t you darling? You’re squeezing down on me so tight.”

Draping himself over Homelander’s back Harry bit down hard on the tanned shoulder until
blood welled over his tongue, Homelander bodily shuddering from the force of his newest
orgasm. Leaning back Harry stared at the bloody wound of teeth imprints, fingers sliding
down the sweaty back of America’s greatest hero.

Taking a step back the 11-inch cock slipped free, rubbing against the abused hole before
plunging back in to force a whimper from the blond. Grasping the soft locks in one hand he
twisted his head to the side, the kiss filthy and as uncoordinated as it was amazing.

The position was switched, Homelander spreading his legs without a hint of hesitation,
fingers once again widening his hole for display until Harry’s tip pushed past the soft rim.
“Shall we really begin?”

He slowly sank back into the warm wet heat, lube bubbling to the rim of Homelander’s hole
to slip down just as Harry bottomed out inside him with Homelander caging him in seconds
later with powerful legs.

“Scream for me darlin'.” Harry murmured and Homelander did just that.

Watching the blond sleep was perhaps one of the most rewarding things Harry could imagine,
his face devoid of worries and the annoying smiling mask the public seemed to love. Harry
knew better because he unearthed every expression he could from the other man, dug them
out until his hands were bloody and Homelander - John was nothing but a sobbing mess.

The Homelander the public knew was charming, helpful and most of all full of mercy. The
Homelander the veteran heroes knew was a sadistic, aggressive and intelligent, immoral with
an indifference to human life.

The John Harry knew was all of those things condensed into a ball of a needy, bratty and
broken man. Not understanding love but wanting to, confused about his emotions and where
they stem from but knows hitting and murder makes him feel better. Loved to be in Harry’s
company, the terms of endearments, gentle touches, kisses, home-cooked meals, stories,
being fucked.

Homelander was a mess on the inside and Harry sympathized with him because once upon a
time he too had been like him. Lost without direction, guided by invisible faces and shackles
around his neck with so much anger in his body accumulating until it exploded.

Brushing away the golden strands Harry pressed a feather-light kiss to his forehead, the Hero
of Heroes turning to snuggle further into his warmth. John was nothing but a man seeking
genuine love and affection, twisted by those who created him until his warped idea of love
became nothing more than a psychopathic craving to feel something.

Like a dog trained to fight and kill, only to be punished for doing just that.

Looking out of the huge windows that displayed the night sky, the city miles and miles of
twinkling lights and car horns, so much louder than his previous home but the people were
the same. The heroes were the same. The enemy was the same.

He knew why Homelander had come to him today, the plane crash of Flight 37 having
featured on several news channels even with the intervention of Homelander and Queen
Maeve the lives that were lost were tragic.

It was not that Vought’s cover boy felt guilty for what he had done but mostly because of the
lack of empathy he felt was what worried him, the ‘punishment’ a way for him to feel what
he could not.

With the Nullification still in effect, John’s body was a myriad of bruises, bites and red skin,
his hole swollen and a belly full of cum, the man had passed out between the 10th and 14th
orgasm, not that Harry stopped either way. Supes bodies were made to last after all.

“I’ll protect you, darling, I’m here now.”

Green electricity crackled around the room in fleeting flares, the temperature dropping by
several degrees.

Homelander could look all he wants, there were no files to found, no evidence Harry existed
beyond the corporeal body because there was no one alive left to say otherwise.

Vought was not the first to play God, but it was the first to train and tame its heroes.

The British Empire’s attempts were highly successful until they created something they could
not control and could not stop. Harry back then having taken pleasure in ripping everyone
involved in his creation limb from limb, the memories of children he grew up with in the
caged rooms spurred his drive to kill them all.

Little Hermione and Ron deemed failures, gassed until their hearts stopped but not before the
chemicals burned their lungs, eyes, and skin.

Neville and Luna were given the lethal injection for failing to meet the standards.

Countless more children created and discarded at the whims of those who felt it was there
right to play God.

Harry had passed every test.

Superhuman strength, superhuman speed, superhuman stamina, superhuman healing,

invulnerability, flight.

Showcased to higher-ups, to sponsors, to anyone rich enough to bare witness to the most
powerful lab experiment in the country's history. They did not take into account the telepathy
or telekinesis.

Bringing older heroes into the room to subdue him because killing him would mean billions
of dollars wasted, they certainly did not account for the Nullification.

His first thoughts after removing the head of a hero called The Auror was that blood felt
really warm and really good. He did not consider it to be murder as he killed them all,
ravaging the labs and the floors above, the higher-ups trying to escape but received the same
sentence as the scientists.

It was justice being exacted.

“We will kill anyone who gets in our way, won’t we darling.”

Homelander mumbled into his chest and Harry smiled at the image the man presented.

“Starting with that pesky shadow of yours called Black Noir.”

 Nuzzling the crown of Homelander’s head Harry sighed, fingers slipping into the still wet
ass, Homelander whimpering to cognizance, cheeks flushing a lovely pink and pupils already
blown. Harry grinned down at his little lover, no matter if the man outweighed him.

“Round two darling.”

Chapter End Notes

If you have never watched The Boys then here's your chance to binge that bitch.

Stay safe.
 Harry/Rigo Vasquez
Chapter Summary

Eva should know by now that he can play any game she can, but better. (Harry/Rigo,
Station-19, a S3 Ep7 Fix-It)

Chapter Notes
See the end of the chapter for notes

The doorbell rang and Rigo tugged on the hem of his shirt once more before walking from
the bedroom and to the door, hand hesitating for a few short seconds until he opened it.

“Thought you said last time was the last time.” Harry drawled, Rigo, snorted and stepped
back to allow him in, eyes on the tall broad-shouldered man.

Sliding off the jacket that Rigo took Harry made himself at home in the Vasquez household,
having walked through the halls and doorways many times before to know where things
were. Rigo hung the jacket and without another word climbed on top of Harry’s lap, his half
erection pressing into the other man’s middle as he ground down on the slowly filling cock
hidden within the grey slacks.

“Not going to wine and dine me?” Harry asked, not moving a finger as Rigo undressed him
of his three-piece suit, the waistcoat flying to the left and tie to the right, with every button
from the shirt undone the expansive tattoo on his chest that circled around his arms and the
entirety of his back was exposed.

Dark ink with hints of colour and as always Rigo took care to lick the lotus flower on his left
pectoral, wet tongue trailing after the body of the serpent that ended halfway down his arm.

“No hellos or calls for almost an entire year before that vague text yesterday evening.”

The fireman bit a dusky nipple and Harry’s hand intertwined with his hair to pull it sharply
until Rigo was staring at him with those dark brown eyes that always seemed to challenge
him, a stubborn set to his jaw and tenseness of the shoulders Harry learned to associate with
the man’s wife.

“Ah… this is about Eva, isn’t it.”

The jaw locked tighter and Harry gripped the slicked-back curls tighter until Rigo winced, a
hand coming to Harry’s wrist as if that would diminish the hold he had.

Harry rolled his eyes behind the glasses, hand petting Rigo’s hair so his hands could slide
down the firefighter’s frame unhindered, thumbs digging into his waist to cup his ass before
he stood in one smooth movement. Rigo clutched him, a scowl on his face and Harry grinned
because he knew the man hated to be carried, to be treated like he was anything but a ‘manly-
man’ and not completely precious to Harry.

His feet led him to the bedroom where he sat on the bed but did not relinquish his hold on
Rigo, hands kneading his ass through the pants.

“I asked you a question, Rigo. Take the shirt off.”

Rigo tsked but complied easily enough, much too easily and Harry blinked in surprise at the
lack of a rebellion, though he did not complain when he now had access to brown nipples.
Licking the bud he rolled his tongue over it, the nipple perking quickly.

Drawing a moan from the man was his favorite pastime beyond his actual hobbies, the
normally so unflappable face would crumble and flush, the taunting voice would break into
whimpers and pleads and - Harry just got himself rock hard.

“We’re not doing shit until you answer me Rigo, and you know I’m perfectly content to suck
your tits until the cows come home.”

He received a scowl for his words and a light slap to the back of his head “They’re not tits
you ass.”

Harry suckled the left one noisily, squeezing the tanned chest “I willfully disagree.”

Rigo snorted, shifting on Harry’s lap so his fully hard bulge pressed against Harry’s abs again
and the roll of his hips was done with intent but Harry was nothing if not a man of his word
and Rigo knew that much.

“She did it again. This time with a guy at the station.”

The words were spat out like venom and any relaxation Harry had managed to get into the
other’s body evaporated in wake of his wife’s infidelity. Again.

“Isn’t there a code or some fantastical crap between you fire chasers?”

“There is a code yes.”

Harry hummed “And he willing broke it.”

Rigo’s face did something complicated “Not the first time no, the kid didn’t know I even had
a wife, I not too recently transferred over to the station, but I saw a look in his eyes that I’d
seen in other little shits when they realized Eva was married.”

“There were other times then.”

Rigo nodded stiffly. “She doesn’t clean up as well as she thinks she does. It wasn’t too hard
to guess who. Kid doesn’t look like the type to do this kind of crap, gets all shifty-eyed and
pale, a pretty white boy.”
Harry laughed, hands helping Rigo step out of the pants until there was nothing left on the
beautiful tanned skin. His hands squeezing the heavy cock standing proud against Rigo’s
belly and the man’s knees buckled, a hiss drawing from between his teeth.

“I’ll have you know I too, am a pretty white boy.” Harry murmured between marking the
officer’s abdomen with bites, the blood welling under the skin to bruise.

“Yea…” Rigo panted “But you’re smart.”

Harry peered up at the man, amusement clear on his features, glasses off to the side of the
bed and he watched Rigo’s eyes darken more with lust as he licked the leaking tip of the
man’s cock before sucking on the head.

The moan he drew forth was nothing short of desperate, rolling the taste of precum around
his tongue Harry pat the bed and Rigo climbed up, once again silent and oddly docile, Harry
following after the second he shed the remainder of the silk dress shirt.

Spread out like this Rigo looked vulnerable and once again he wanted to proposition the fire
officer to be his, to live the high life of no worries in any penthouse or house he chose, as
long as he was to be Harry’s and Harry’s alone.

Slipping a finger between the well-sculpted cheeks honed from years of training and hard
work he grunted in surprise at finding it wet and soft already. Green eyes finding the dark
ones that quickly turned away.

“You played with yourself.” it was not a question and Rigo yelped with three fingers pushed
in to the final knuckle, a burn racing up his spine that made his toes curl and a moan leave
him.

Rigo spread his legs, holding the thighs apart and Harry stared down at the pucker spread
around his fingers, lube making the passage smoother. Crooking the digits Rigo flinched,
body tensing and Harry knew no matter how many times they fucked Rigo would probably
never get used to the inexplicable pleasure he could get from his prostate.

This was why whenever they hooked up he always made sure to let the man feel the full
extent of it.

Rolling the walnut-shaped nerve endings under the pads of his fingers Rigo shuddered, sweat
gathering on his forehead and his cock drooling in a steady line that pooled in his naval.

“H-Harry that’s… ugh - that’s eno-enough.” Rigo’s eyes were bright upper body shifting
between a crunch to laying flat on his back, mouth gaping as his legs twitched in time with
the clenching hole.

“You were telling me about Eva remember. She knows the code as well. Is she not to be
blamed too?”

Rigo couldn’t answer even if he wanted to, he small sounds escaping him nothing but
nonsense in Spanish, his hands gripping the sheets in a death grip, the six inched thick cock
jerking.

Harry applied more pressure to his prostate, finger fucking him without failing to prod the
sensitive nerve bundle.

“Dios… ah, mhmm! Dios, Dios, Dios, Dios! Fuck !”

Rigo gasped, cum shooting from his prick to land on his chest and chin before the remainder
dribbled on the sunkissed belly.

Harry growled at the sight Rigo painted, a man he once witnessed beat another man to a pulp,
all aggression and ferocity gone in place of a dark flush, heavy chest and twitching cock, his
walls clenching again and again around Harry’s fingers.

“Your wife is as much to blame for this, but I suspect the kid is getting most of the heat.”

Rigo nodded, hand brushing back his sweat damped hair, blown pupils watching as Harry
unbuckled his belt and untucked himself, the ten inched cock already wet on the tip.

“Your wife is a slut Rigo, and not even in the best of ways.”

Rigo bristled where he laid on the bed, expression twisting from the post-orgasmic bliss to
furious.

“She is not! Don’t talk shit about my wife Potter!”

Harry rolled his eyes hard enough that it hurt a tiny bit “She flirts with guys to get you angry
enough so you fuck her hard enough the neighbors called in domestic abuse a few times.
Sleeps around at her fancy when she grows bored of you, willing destroy a brotherhood code
by roping this kid in again and again without any thought of how it will reflect you or the
boy.”

Walking to where he knew Rigo kept the lube stashed away from Eva’s prying gaze he
squeezed a generous amount over the length.

“She’s a ticking time bomb waiting to happen Rigo.”

Rigo’s jaw grew stubborn again “Your wife sleeps around too.”

Harry snorted “We have an open marriage, open communication, and trust. As long as neither
of us brings home unwanted baggage we have no issue with the other being with other
people. Ginny is great like that.”

Stepping out of the slacks and underwear raised a brow “How do you want it this time.”

Rigo rolled over onto his bed on uncoordinated limbs, hand grabbing a pillow to rest his head
on as he arched his back with his ass high in the air and to this day the man looked better than
any other in this position like he was made for it.

“Shit…”
The fireman peaked back, smugness decorating his face “Something wrong?”

The thrust that buried him balls deep into the tight wet heat quickly wiped the complacent
expression from his face, Rigo screaming aloud before he buried his face into the pillow, the
rough intrusion of Harry's thick cock melting him from the inside out.

The sounds of flesh slapping flesh filled the room along with the muffled screams of
pleasure, Rigo’s hole clinging to Harry’s shaft whenever he pulled out some, the fat member
dragging along and prodding against his over sensitive prostate without reprieve.

Leaning his weight onto the sturdy body under him Rigo flailed where he was pinned “Agh!
Ahh!”

“No more smart-ass comments?”

“Fuck you man” Rigo mumbled into the pillow, ass still held high despite the rough handling,
the firefighter clutching the pillow tighter when Harry gave a loud bark of a laugh.

Fewer words were said after that and Rigo allowed himself to float away knowing Harry’s
hands would keep him grounded and steady, the man’s voice bringing him back whenever he
could feel himself slipping, the hot hard slide of the cock piercing him open to his deepest
was perhaps the best feeling he experienced in a very long time.

His hips moved backward on their own, chasing the pleasure and the affection and Rigo
wondered how Eva would react to seeing him be pounded into their bed, ass bouncing back
on a fat cock and drooling from the sheer euphoric intensity of it all.

“Jesus fuck Rigo…” Harry cursed and the firefighter moaned, body lighting up from the
inside out, the small sounds progressively getting louder until they reached a fever pitch of
half Spanish, half English warbles and Harry only pounded him harder, hands gripping his
ass and hips, each punch of the heavy cock pushing Rigo closer and closer until

“Augh! Ah! Fuuuck! I’m cummi-”

His body shuddered so hard he felt as though he was in the middle of a seizure, cum spraying
and dirtying the bedsheets but Harry had yet to stop if anything he grew wilder until there
was another pressure building in Rigo’s gut.

“Wa-wait! It’s gonna, it’s gonna come out!”

Harry grinned when Rigo tried to get away, to run from the throbbing cock fucking him only
to be dragged backward.

“Harry it’s comin’ out, it’s fuckin’ comin’ ooout.”

Grabbing him by the arms he pulled the man up, hips driving into to the tight heat his eyes
closed as Rigo whimpered, a sob tearing from his mouth when his half-hard dick jerked once
then twice before a clear stream squirted out, soaking the bed.
Grunting Harry buried himself once more before he came as well, cum filling Rigo to the
brim and only when he was nice and soft did Harry pull out slowly, turning Rigo carefully to
lift him.

“Harry, Harry, Harry.”

Harry hummed “I got you darlin’ don’t worry. Don’t I always have you? Take care of you?”

Rigo fell asleep with the eyes of a serpent watching him, the inked snake realistic enough to
shock him at him first but now it was soothing.

Harry sat down on the couch, Rigo wrapped in a blanket on his lap and when the door
opened, two men striding in he declined for the firefighter to be taken, instead, he strode out
of the house in only his slacks and into the huge SUV waiting outside between two other
black ones, the windows tinted and bulletproofed, a needed upgrade in his line of work.

When Rigo woke up he felt funny, blinking and grumbling he sat up and it only took his brain
a minute or so to catch up with what his eyes were seeing.

“Harry why the fuck am I on plane…”

The man in question looked up from the papers he was reviewing, secretary at his side typing
away and armed guards loitering in around the remainder of the cabin.

“Jet.”

Rigo’s eyes narrowed “What ?”

“You’re on a jet, to Bora Bora to be exact. You slept longer than I thought you would.”

Harry smiled innocently as Rigo processed everything he had heard, blanket being thrown off
but before he could start, could bite into the stupidly rich bastard who probably did illegal
shit for a living, Harry raised his hand.

“I already called your fire captain Maya Bishop? Explained your particular situation and
stated you will be taking a week from your accumulated sick-days. I also made a sizable
donation to a fund Luna saw trending about retired fire officers, and another to your
firehouse personally.”

“What about -”

“Would anyone really question your need to get away for a few days Rigo? After what Eva
did? Because as much as you want to kill the kid you know, she’s to shoulder most if not
entirely all the blame.”

Rigo glared at Harry but said nothing, the man though speaking about a vacation isle was
dressed awfully formal, three-piece suit as pristine as always, hair slicked back.

“So for the next week you will relax, unwind, get luxury massages, drink fruit drinks and
probably do crazy shit like swim with sharks and other wildlife. You will relax and let me
 take care of you, and if you wanna fuck some more then that’ll be greatly appreciated.”

Harry winked at the firefighter and Rigo couldn’t help but snort, against his better wishes he
could not stay truly angry at the other man and Harry knew it.

“Bora Bora huh. How nice of you.”

“Of course. It’s not called the honeymoon destination for nothing.” the stupidly cocky leer on
the stupidly handsome face made Rigo want to punch the bastard but he just settled for
thanking Luna for the tray of breakfast, the blond woman who always seemed a little ditzy
but was apparently incredibly competent at her work.

"Oh, there was apparently an explosion. Your station handled it, a kid named Jack Gibson
saved a ton of people from some rocket shit. Nearly got himself gutted too from shrapnel."

He knew Harry was observing him for a reaction, Rigo grimacing. "How bad was it."

Harry for a moment longer before shrugging "The report said surgery was successful. He
saved a kid and took the brunt of the explosion."

Rigo nodded and hid his face behind the jumbo mug of coffee. Jack Gibson was still shit for
sleeping with his wife but Rigo knew the kid was good at his job even if he was a dumb runt
who didn't know how to stay away from dangerous women like Eva.

Peaking at Harry from over the rim of the mug he stared as Harry's brows furrowed at what
he was reading, tattoos hidden under the fine material of Armani, looking nothing like the
gangster Rigo knew he was but never confirmed.

A break from life sounded nice, his hole clenching around nothing and feeling awfully empty,
though he resisted squirming when his cock filled out in his jeans.

Harry smirked at him from across the cabin and Rigo calmly gave him the finger.

Chapter End Notes

So Rigo did not deserve to die as he did and Eva for sure does not deserve Rigo. This is
my fix it.
 Harry/Loki
Chapter Summary

Harry finds his Second in the trickster who just failed on enslaving the human race.
Sequel to Logan's chapter. (The Avengers)

“I am a God you dull creature and I will not be bullied by -”

Harry tilted his head to the side as the man, Loki , his memory provided, was quite literally
slammed into the ground again and again by the big green creature - The Hulk .

“Puny God.” the Hulk walked to the edge before leaping into the chaos below leaving Harry
to snort, dragon-hide boots crunching over glass and cement as the concealment spell slowly
disappeared from his body.

Crouching next to the whimpering man because surely this was not a god, not when he was
so weak to be left defenseless by a creature who could only string together two word phrases.
It took longer than Harry hoped for the man dressed in green and gold to notice him, eyes
widening at the sight of another in the room.

“Hello there Loki.”

The man the humans called a God made an abortive movement to get away but a simple snap
of Harry’s finger pinned him in place, an invisible weight pressing him back down into the
human size crater his body had made.

It was obvious from the blatant unrestrained fear in Loki’s eyes that he felt the power
contained within Harry’s body, the Asgardian’s pupil’s dilating from pin-pricks to barely
there rings of green.

Brushing the dark locks away from the pale skin with a careful finger Harry let the digit trail
down the lean form, the clothes melting away from the touch to evaporate like ash until Loki
was completely naked. The God’s chest was heaving, the inability to move and speak - the
vulnerability was perhaps overwhelming and Harry took pity on him like a lion giving mercy
to a young gazelle.

Gasping as if he had been denied breath Loki uttered his first words since Hulk stopped him
rant, eyes wide and sweat gathering along his forehead.

“W-who are you? Why do you… what do you want from me?”

Harry’s lips quirked into a smile, thumb brushing over a dry lip to press into the split of skin,
the stinging pain making Loki hiss but unable to move away.
“My name is Harry.” he brushed over the cut again and the small wound healed in an instant,
his fingers brushing feather light impressions over the bruises and scratches along the other's
body until the pale skin was unmarred once again.

“I desire your body, your… life.”

Loki swallowed the lump in his throat, eyes bouncing from the face of the man the hand
painting an invisible trail along his body, dipping into his collarbone to slide over his
sternum, belly and then

“Mhm!”

Harry lazily stroked the limp cock, magic tickling the tips of his fingers before he allowed it
to seep down to his palm.

The reaction was instantaneous, Loki crying out, body bucking under the weight of the magic
over him in an effort to get away from the magic coursing through him into his quickly
hardening prick.

“I am the last of my kind. Wizards and witches, those blessed by the The Mother and from
the imprints of your magic I suppose your Goddess is a descendant of The Mother. Weaker,
frail, barely enough magic to bless you with…”

Harry frowned, thumb sweeping over the leaking head of the now erect cock, the tip flushed
pink.

“As I am the last I require mothers for my children. The newest generation of my species.
Men such as yourself who will be able to gift me healthy and powerful offspring for years to
come.”

The sounds of war just beyond the destroyed tower wall were muffled and despite several
aliens and heroes alike flying past the gap no one seemed to notice them. Pressing a hand to
Loki’s flat middle Harry released the magic which weighed him down, letting his power seep
then burn into his core to mold and shape the essentials of a healthy and permanent womb.

Loki’s shouts of pain echoed in the room as his magic tried to resist the foreign one before
Harry’s more potent, more volatile power humbled it.

Infecting his magical core with tendrils of his magic was hardly a problem with how
defenseless Loki was and the after effects left the God panting where he laid, sweat glistening
upon his body with faint trembles.

“What did you do.” the whisper was loud in their bubble of invisibility, Harry tilting his head
to the other side.

“Why ask silly questions my dear.”

Loki would be able to tell exactly what had just transpired, what changes were inflicted on
and within his body and the aversion of eyes told Harry just that.
“Why me.”

Harry settled himself between the space of Loki’s legs, magic guiding the man’s legs apart
and then up to expose the pink hairless hole nestled between two pale perky cheeks. Brushing
the pucker with his middle finger Harry unceremoniously plunged his finger inside, forcing
the digit into the too tight hole eliciting a shout of pain from the subdued deity.

Crooking the digit Harry waited patiently until he felt the soft walls become wet with slick
and Loki moaned from the sudden change as the finger glided in and out smoothly now.

“Because you are one of human-kind’s hope. A hero to the people.”

Loki keened as his prostate was lazily circled, precum dribbling onto his belly to pool in his
naval, snorting in disbelief “I am the one who nearly enslaved them. They - ah… they will
never see me as a hero.”

“Perhaps not now.” another two fingers were added to stretch him further, a flare of magic
making the man shudder, his walls spasm around the three fingers buried in him and Harry
sent a stronger jolt of the power through him.

“But they shall in the future, however I believe you will serve a better purpose at my side
than a slave to the humans.”

Loki cursed, the sound ripping from him followed by a reedy cry as he came, cum splattering
over the lightly defined chest.

The fingers slipped from the slightly swollen crease, slick following their fast retreat. A snap
of his fingers and he was naked, all 12 inches of thick cock curved towards his belly, Loki’s
green eyes growing once at the sight of the heftiness of the length.

Pressing the fat tip to the leaking hole Harry let it be smeared by slick, the juices flowing
from the Asgardian's cunt thick and slippery.

“Your fate has been rewritten Loki Odinson.” the blunt tip slowly spread the pink pucker
apart, Harry watching as his cock painstakingly marked the other as his own, the cock
stretching Loki’s hole wider, and with each inch pushed in the velvet walls clamped down
harder.

“From today on you are mine and mine alone. Your body shall be the home to my children.”

Slamming the remaining six inches in Harry’s groan was muffled by Loki’s scream, balls
resting against the swell of his ass as the large cock twitched within the confines of the God’s
cunt.

“Your chest nourishment for them. You will be one of the honored to birth my children under
the blessing of The Mother.”

This man was not Logan who understood and surrendered himself based on animal instincts
and the need to survive. Logan had chosen the easy way and given himself up without much
fuss, had taken all of Harry and accepted his seed without fully understanding what he was
being told.

Loki was entirely different. This was a cunning man who was used to manipulating others to
get his way, who had suffered and still suffered to this day. A lack of love and acceptance,
judgement and criticism.

Not enough.

Loki understood the finer aspects of magic, understood the balance of nature and fate. He
knew, could feel, probably even see Harry’s magic even if he would never witness the true
extent of it. Leaning some of his weight onto the smaller man, the fat cock grinding deeper
into Loki enough to make him whimper.

Cupping both cheeks in hand Harry dug his finger tips lightly into the silky black hair, Loki’s
gaze growing distant as he showed him his future.

A little girl with black hair, green eyes smiling widely as him as she levitated several boulders
bigger than she was.

A baby nursing at his chest as a little boy spun around and around as hundreds of fireflies
danced around him.

Loki laughing among several faceless people but the feeling of happiness, contentment and
love washed over him filling him.

Gasping Loki clung to Harry and he held the lithe man to his chest, the faint trembling of his
body for an entirely different reason now as the feelings of love clung to him like a second
skin, reaching deeper than Harry cock was at the moment.

“You swear?” the magic caster pressed a hand to the flat plain of his stomach “Do you
swear?”

Harry gathered Loki’s face in his hands once more, forehead pressing to the pale one and he
let his eyes glow with the power of The Mother and then the influence of Death, the sclera
and pupil itself cloaked by pitch obsidian before they returned to normal.

“I will give you the world and any dimension should you ask for it and lay your enemies at
your feet.” he murmured.

Loki moaned faintly, thin arms wrapping around Harry’s neck as Harry’s hands kneaded his
ass.

“I will give you more love and prosperity to last you several life times. Enough so to fill you
and our many children.”

Their noses brushed as Loki leaned in closer, breaths intermixing between a strangled moan
and a huff of amusement when heavy hands were brought down over the pale cheeks.
“I will fuck you full of mines, each powerful wizards and witches and just as it is now, your
pussy will accept me gladly. It will thank me for breeding you full, for pumping your womb
to the brim with my cum and each time I will watch as my seed takes.”

Loki’s cheeks were flushed now, the magic caster’s hips rolling in unconscious stuttering
movements.

“Beauty beyond compare, even more so when you are round with my child.”

Loki crashed their lips together, Harry biting the soft lips before sucking the smaller tongue,
his hands guiding the Asgardian up from his lap then down again, the slick filling their
bubble of debauchery with wet squelches.

“Fuck me… fuck me please.” Loki raised his hips up and down, fucking himself on the thick
length splitting him wide, soft pleads leaving his lips, half of which Harry captured and
swallowed.

Pushing from the ground with an expulsion of magic he walked the Asgardian over to the
edge of the ruined tower where the city was still fighting, Loki clinging to the man who
promised him the world, who showed him a future he never imagined. The Avengers were
winning against the Chitauri as the alien species were pushed back, the huge ships falling one
by one in balls of inferno.

Harry hated the sight of fire of such magnitude, of such destruction and a part of him
wondered just how much the scales of fate would tilt should he help the the creatures
descending from the heavens win. Something blew up a few feet away from them in the sky,
a reinforced magical shield blocking the aftershocks and heat from reaching the two casters
but Harry flinched nonetheless.

It reminded him all too much of the battles he had fought among his people, the humans
firing canons into their camps, their magic then unable to stop the metal bombs. Unable to
slow the speed of machine-gun bullets.

A cool palm to his cheek snapped him from the unpleasant memory of being so powerless,
defenseless against an enemy the pure-bloods scoffed at and Voldemort in his own twisted
way warned them of. Loki’s green eyes peering into his own unflinching but burning with
desire and lust and concern .

He would never forget but he should not dwell on the past, on the entire universe he was
swept from and placed on this earth which was still alive and not diminished from the lack of
magic and grey from core deep pollution of war.

Loki’s position was changed so he could see the ravaging of the city, buildings falling and
humans dying among the rubble, their screams inaudible against the sounds of weapons and
explosions but Harry knew that Death was pleased, the reapers collecting the souls of the
dead as quickly as they fell.

Loki was practically vibrating as Harry lifted him again, large hands holding the alabaster
thighs open until Loki was on full display to the unsuspecting warriors beyond the tower’s
edge.

Loki gasped, fingers digging into the back of Harry’s neck and scalp, tendons of his neck
bulging slightly when Harry invaded his hole again, the slick wet cock pushing deeper and
deeper until something gave away and the Asgardian God whimpered when the length
pushed to an unfathomable depth.

His stomach held the imprint of the huge cock, the throbbing hardness bulging against the
slim abdomen and Loki moaned at the sight.

“Let them bare witness.” Harry murmured into his ear, teeth snagging a delicate lobe to bite
into as his magic enveloped them in a shield several feet wide in circumference that
shimmered green and black, the concealment spell dissipating.

Driving his hips upward in time to the falling ass Harry fucked Loki with the carelessness of
a madman driven by lust and need, as if submerging himself balls deep into the other would
be the only way to save him and Loki screamed his consent, spurring Harry on with sharp
tugs of his hair and the most filthy words of encouragement.

Magic tickled the perked nipples and erect cock slapping against Loki’s belly, each brutal
bounce of his body descending back down onto the thick shaft left a smear of precum as his
cock drooled from having his prostate continuously jabbed.

“Breed me full! Yesyesyesye -ah! Agh! Mhm!”

Loki’s toes curled, body tensing and Harry growled in a show of affection blurred with
pleasure as warm rivulets of blood ran down his neck when Loki’s nails broke the skin.

He felt more than saw as the other came, the tightening of wet walls around him and how
Loki practically arched in his grasp, body shaking and whimpers escaping afterwards.

A man in an red iron suit flew past the tower, pausing for a few seconds to stare before
rushing off and up towards the gigantic hole in the sky. Harry followed him with his eyes but
he was hardly of concern for now.

Licking the sweaty neck of his Second he tasted the foreign magic, diluted and weak in
comparison to his own but still oh so delicious.

Harry groaned lowly teeth latching onto the pale column as he drove his cock into Loki one
more time before he reached his peak, cum flooding the Asgardian prince’s womb in large
spurts until the flat belly ballooned out a few inches.

“Th… thank-you… thank-you.” Loki whispered, brain a cloud of hazy pleasure and Harry
grunted.

Bloodied nails drifted down his now distended stomach, a smooth palm pressing along the
warm skin where he could feel magic gathering - creating .

Lowering them to the ground where a small pile of conjured pillows lay Harry watched as
Loki almost reverently caressed his bloated belly, the bitter taste of his magic that had licked
at him during the first few seconds of them meeting was now mellowed and sweet.

The concealment spell was back into full effect but the shield had yet to drop, the limp cock
sliding from within the loose hole followed by a spurt of cum and slick that dribbled down
onto the soft pillows, Loki moaning softly at the feeling before bemoaning the diminishing
size of his belly.

“Don’t worry, it will soon return.” he pressed his hand over Loki’s “Our child is growing as
we speak, you can feel it can’t you.”

Loki nodded, head tilting back to stare up at the man who promised him not the world but
simply happiness, a brow being raised in question at his staring.

“Will I ever meet her?” he elaborated “The Mother. Your - our Goddess.”

Harry hummed “Eventually yes.”

A snap of his fingers and the mess leaking from Loki’s gaping asshole disappeared. Another
snap of his fingers and they were both dressed.

“I will come back for you soon. I have more work to do, but until that time.” he squeezed his
fist as magic glowed and condensed in the middle of his palm until an emerald jewel attached
to a delicate chain dangled from his index finger to Loki.

“This shall take you to a safe location before we go to The Plains for the birth.” he turned
Loki’s head by the chin when the other looked towards the cheering masses below, Ironman
having saved the day.

“They will not find you. They will not dare to harm you, you have my word.”

Placing the necklace around Loki’s neck, the jewel resting against his breast bone. “Go.”

Loki’s hand wrapped around the shining emerald of pressurized magic, features devoid of
madness but his eyes still gleamed with mischief. No words were returned and with a squeeze
of the stone the Trickster of Asgard blinked out of existence leaving Harry to stare at the spot
previously occupied by him.

Stepping closer to the edge of the ruined tower Harry looked down at the destroyed city, a
shiver running down his spine as cries came from all directions as the humans mourned the
dead, wailing for loved ones who were in the embrace of Death.

It was a beautiful sound, one he aimed to hear for years to come.

A blur of blond and silver appeared from the side out of the corner of his eye and Harry
turned partly to stare at the God of Thunder, Loki’s brother - Thor . The man’s blue eyes
searching the ruined building for Loki no doubt before he finally noticed he was not alone.

“Where is he?! Where is my brother!”

Harry smirked at the second Asgardian he met for the day, his eyes falling to the armor plated
middle of the blond, gaze lingering before green eyes drifted back to the enraged blue. His
smirk widened before he disappeared.

Thor could only stare bewildered at the empty spot, cautiously moving to where the man
dressed in black had stood just a split second ago.
 Harry/Raymond Smith
Chapter Summary

Raymond finds his mate and alpha in a tiny cupboard under the stairs. A/B/O
(Harry/Ray - The Gentlemen 2019)

Chapter Notes
See the end of the chapter for notes

Imagine mother nature believing humans to be so incapable of reproducing efficiently

enough that she made them into sub-categories of Alpha, Beta and Omega.

Nothing special.

One could get wet like a slippery waterslide and pop out babies while the next just got a big
ole fat ball of tissue at the base of their dick to impregnate said baby popper. The middle
ground were just normal blokes and ladies.

Then humans decided to fuck that up and mother nature had to rehash her plan to ensure at
the very least 35% of the population on earth met their destined partner. She did this by
having the two paired bodies create a chemical explosion that could solidify water particles
on the ground, a sheet of ice being created out of thin air connecting the two people.

It was as much as an alarm as nature could give them without making one literally explode
because then the point would be moot.

Raymond stared in shock as the wooden floorboards before him froze in a jagged line 12
inches thick and 5 feet long to connect him to the frightened and horribly bruised kid in the
fucking shoe cupboard under the stairs.

The boy looked more alarmed than he was or maybe the dark bruises covering his face and
half naked body made him seem more startling. What stood out however were the brilliantly
green eyes, one half-way swollen shut but the other was wide, like the freshest grass
Raymond had ever seen and brighter than any fancy jewlery.

“Holy shit kid, you found your mate.” Dave muttered from beside him, the rest of the crew
gawking at the solid sheet of ice on the floor.

Great just what he needed, an audience.

Crouching Ray held out his hand and tried to not frown when the boy gave a mighty flinch
back, retreating a foot inside the small space. A space that smelled like shit and piss and
something dead and no doubt the kid smelled exactly like those three nasty things but as far
as Ray could tell the dirty little bugger was his .

“I won’t hurt you, I swear.” he tried to mellow his voice to the softest he could and like a
spooked animal the boy stayed still, eerily still like it had been practiced over and over again,
so still Ray could barely see his chest moving.

“I’m a friend.” he glanced down at the ice between him and the boy “More than a friend. I
won’t let anyone hurt you, alright?”

The kid could not have been any more than eight, seven at best and had already seen the
nasty side of humanity, perhaps more than that.

So far only the bruises could be seen, clear signs of physical abuse by someone much larger
than the small body hiding in the cupboard. Any other signs of abuse would have to be
checked later.

The boy stared at him then behind him where the ten men were still no doubt gawking like
stupid birds, Ray twisting to glare at all of them and with a meaningful sharp motion to the
door they filed out one by one until only Ray, the kid and the smell of shit and piss remained
in the room.

Taking off his jacket slowly he held it out and open, a nice big warm leather winter jacket
with a fur collar and insulated pockets in a rich brown, Ray’s favorite of the set he had in the
closet.

The house belonged to a family named the Dursley’s, the very same family who borrowed 20
stiff ones from Mickey and then fled the country when the dogs came knocking. The records
only stated a wife, father and child - Petunia, Vernon and Dudley, their photos ingrained in
Ray’s head and the frightened boy before him was definitely not in the records but was most
certainly living in the house.

The cupboard door had been locked, bolted with padlock under the latch meaning the
Dursley’s had intended for the boy to die there and he would have had Ray not been sent to
collect a couple fingers from one Vernon Dursley.

Dark matted hair poked out of the dark cupboard first, then a battered naked torso, too big
pants covering too thin legs and bare feet that were turning a bit blue. The boy skirted around
the ice and stumbled the rest of the way before Ray caught him, wrapping the big warm jack
around the bony frame that shuddered from either the contact or the sudden decrease in
coldness.

“I got you kid. I got you. It’s gonna be just fine alright?” the boy just burrowed deeper into
the jacket, Ray barely feeling his weight in his arms because he was so fucking light it was
disturbing.

His jacket smelled like shit and piss and his .

.
 .

Mickey was mind boggled when Ray, his stupidly loyal Ray had come back from a simple
go-fetch-my-money job with a child bundled in his arms like he was the most precious thing
on the planet.

Ray who never asked for anything, never flinched at the order to shoot someone and most
certainly did not ever let his impulses get the best of him, biology or otherwise. So to see his
left hand man come waltzing in smelling of stale shit and ripe piss was surprising.

To hear the smelly bundle of human in his arms was his mate was another completely fucking
ball game, and who was Mickey to rain on Ray’s already gloomy parade when obviously
some serious shit had gone down in that house of what appeared to be good upstanding
middle class people.

And they called the mafia monsters.

“He’s yours huh.”

“Yes.”

They both had already calculated the age difference between the two, Ray shouldering a good
possible 13 years on the kid and to ensure the highest chance of conception when the kid
reached his legal majority then Ray would need to come off his suppressants, which meant
irregular, before they became regular again, heats.

Mother nature was a really mean bitch sometimes.

Staring at the kid sitting opposite him with Rosalind petting his hair as she won’t to do, his
then gaunt face filled out some in the four months he had joined the Pearson family. The
family doctor stating explicitly without mincing words that the kid was lucky he was not
dead.

Malnourished, anemic, poorly healed bones that were broken one too many times, some
having to be rebroken in order to heal properly, and his left eye suffering permanent damage.

Thankfully he found no evidence of sexual abuse but given the time frame and the mottle of
old bruises mixed with new ones there was no concret evidence it had not occurred.

Rosalind cooed at the boy and really Mickey believed it was time to give her a baby or seven
but she wanted a few more years to get her own business off the ground before being
weighed down by a human growing in her guts.

And yea, Mickey could respect that, one of the reasons he had fallen for her besides her
morbid sense of humor, wise cracking comments and the ability to touch his soul through his
dick.
The boy had not spoken for the first two months under his roof and had it not been for him
answering with nods or shakes of his head Mickey would have believed him to be deaf but lo
and behold when Ray finally managed to dig up his birth records to find out just who the hell
he had found, the left hand storming into the kitchen with a brown foldr.

“Harry. That’s your name innit? Harry?”

Harry had brightened upon seeing Ray as he always did, a visible perk in his shoulders a
small shy grin that had quickly disappeared upon hearing the name.

“You can’t say that!”

The sound of a childish albeit husky voice, hoarse from lack of use, startled the three adults
in the room, Harry’s green eyes glancing left and right as if expecting someone to appear. The
fear in him had been visible, tangible, learned.

Ray frowned and came to crouch in front of the boy and like a cat catching sight of laser his
focus was on Ray and only Ray, Mickey and Rosalind might as well have been shit on the
side of the road.

“Why can’t I say your name Harry?”

Two hands were unceremoniously shoved in Ray’s face to cover his mouth, the twenty year
old looking more bemused than angry.

“Uncle Vernon gets angry when that name is said.” he whispered, voice rough in contrast to
the childish quality of it.

“Then what did they call you all this time kid.” Mickey asked since Ray’s mouth with still
occupied.

Harry blinked owlishly at them and though both eyes were bright and green, the left one
according to the doctor would always be a bit fuzzy. Consequence of blunt force and he
should count himself lucky.

“Freak.” the word was loud despite the near inaudible quality of Harry’s voice.

There was silence after the blunt answer masked in hoarse unused voice and Mickey sighed,
rubbing the bridge of his nose with two fingers.

There was a clatter of a chair and Mickey watched as Harry practically jumped from the
perch by the table to to hug Ray, clumsy hands hovering over the broad shoulders of the
twenty year old, unsure if he should touch him before he gave in and did.

“D-Don’t cry! I’m sorry!”

The words only made Ray cry more, the once single tear now evolving into both eyes
leaking.
Ray wasn’t by any measure soft, but Mickey’s heart would break too if Rosalind - his sweet
darling angel Rosalind had been abused or even vaguely mistreated. Mates were their other
half, the equal part of their soul, it must have physically hurt Ray to hear those words.

Harry panicked, wild hair whipping to the left so he could stare at Mickey and Rosalind, eyes
begging them to help before Ray wrapped two big arms around him, face buried in the small
boney neck and too sharp collarbone. Harry whined, skinny arms petting Ray’s blond hair
like an inexperienced child petting a too big cat.

“You got nothin’ ta apologise for Harry.”

“You -” Harry began but Ray squeezed him tight enough to make him let out a surprised
‘eep’.

“You are not a freak! That’s not your name and if I ever see that fat land whale again I’ll
carve it into his skin until he -”

“Raymond darlin’ let’s not get carried away.” Rosalind piped up and Ray deflated, furious
anger disapating.

“You’re not a freak Harry. Never have been, never will be.” his voice softer now and Harry
nodded much too quickly, not believing Ray but not wanting to upset the man anymore.

That was a few months ago.

Mickey sighed and thumbed at the rim of his glass, the scotch sitting around a partially
melted oval block of ice, his Rose was at her auto shop leaving him alone with a bad case of
blue balls and an empty bed. Raymond was writing up a report and Harry was learning his
letters because for an 10 year old he was several years behind in every subject, never mind he
looked eight years old.

“Kid.”

Harry looked up from the notebook, head tilting in question because he still didn’t use his
voice much other than to talk to Ray.

“Do you know what me and you are in comparison to Ray?” he asked, ignoring Ray’s look of
suspicion instead focusing on the boy.

Harry shook his head and Mickey figured the shit stains of a family never taught the boy
anything other than to feel pain. Draining his glass he refilled it, rolling his eyes when Ray
removed the bottle from the table all together, oh well.

“You and I are Alphas.”

“Al...phas?”

“Yea that’s it. Alphas. That means we’re to protect our loved ones like Ray who’s an
Omega.”
“Ome...ga?” Harry’s face was scrunched up adorably in confusion and Mickey motioned for
the boy to come closer, the kid hopping down from the chair and over to the boss of the house
he was living in.

Mickey pulled him up onto his lap, not minding how he tensed before relaxing minutely.
Trauma like that would not be healed in a few months, and he suspected not ever.

Pointing a finger at Ray who by now was watching Mickey like a hawk and should he not
know what the protectiveness over a bondmate felt like he would have been offended since
he was the Boss for fucks sake.

“Ray’s an Omega yea. That means he’s yours and you as an Alpha are his.”

Harry twisted to blink at Mickey “But what’s the difference?”

“Ray here can pop out wee ones and your job is to put them in him.”

“Wee ones? Like babies?” his eyes were growing wider with each new input of information
and Ray’s frown turned deeper in turn, Harry’s voice taking on a tilt of fascination.

“Exactly like babies.” Mickey clarified.

Harry turned to blink at Ray who gazed back steadily, Harry smiling widely at the man across
the rectangular table, a brilliant thing that made his face glow and Ray basically melted right
there and then.

“I’ll protect you Ray.” Harry declared, jumping from Mickey’s lap to trot over to Ray’s side
like a faithful dog, his small hands cupping the bearded jaw.

“And I’ll only give you babies if you want ‘em.”

Mickey watched as his left hand blushed and the soft scent of omega pheromones filled the
room before Ray shook himself out of the stupor.

Ah, young love.

Turns out with good nutrition, exercise and a soft bed to sleep in with love and comfort from
all the adults around him when they weren’t carrying a dead body did wonders for
malnourished, almost starved, touch starved kids.

In the next five years Ray watched as Harry packed on weight and height.

He was still lean, bordering on lanky but his skin was healthy and so was he, the shy,
frightened and panicked young boy had turned into a quiet but confident young man who was
weirdly excellent at any weapon he picked up.

Ray would have thought with a busted eye his aim would have been off but no, the paper
targets hit dead center with headshots, bullet holes where the heat, liver and kidneys were, all
fatal spots on a human.

Ray’s heats returned back to normal two years ago, consistent and frequent and always a
fucking pain in the ass by not having a dick lodged up there - or more specifically Harry’s
dick.

But as much as his body and mind craved the boy, he was in fact just that, a boy compared to
his 25 years. Ray was determined to wait until Harry reached 18 before initiating any sort of
sexual contact.

He was a killer, blackmailer and part of a country wide bush ring but he was not a rapist,
much less one that it to their own soulmate.

So each heat Ray would request Harry give him something that carried a heavy stench of his
scent, preferably something he sweated in or as of late - jerked off on. His innocent Harry
was growing up and because of the testosterone dominated household the alphas all under
Mickey’s control filled his head with shit. So yea, Ray wouldn’t touch Harry like that just yet
but he sure as hell could jerk off and fuck himself on a toy to his the scent of his alpha.

Harry was growing more bold by the month, hormones no doubt raging with not only puberty
but the makings of a maturing alpha and Ray found himself to be the sole target of wandering
hands, feather light touches over his nipples, a press of a body behind him when he was
bracketed against a counter.

And that one memorable time he had been on all fours in his office trying to reach a pen that
had fallen and Harry came up behind him, crotch to his ass, an innocent question of “Need
help there Ray?” despite the indecent actions.

It was driving him and his omega sensibilities up the fucking wall.

The first time Ray discovered Harry was indeed not just another poor, abused kid was when
the boy stopped a bullet in midair from hitting Ray in the chest.

It was an ambush and they had just walked right into it without the proper back up or
weapons, Ray’s men at least two blocks away and the enemies were around them.

Villainous monologue later and the dickwad fired the gun.

There was a shout of his name and then the bullet slowed to a stop two feet away from him.
He was glad he was not the only one fucking freaked out about it, the looks on the goons
faces would have been hilarious had he known what was going on.

Harry was fury personified and Ray could only stare at the two glowing green eyes that
pierced the men around them.

An explosion of green mist seconds later, the lights overhead flickering dangerously before
exploding and the two dozen or so men flew back as if they were dragged by invisible string,
bodies hitting the concrete floor and walls hard enough to knock them out.

Ray attention however was on the heaving chest of the 17 year old who was rapidly turning
pale, nose dripping blood and breaths wheezing.

The bullet that had been floating midair dropped with a soft plink and Harry followed it with
his own unconscious thud.

Five hours later and a very worried Ray later, Harry woke up with an IV in his arm and a
bemused Mickey sitting crossed leg on one side of the bed with Ray on the other, his slightly
larger hand in Harry’s own.

“So. Magic huh kid?” Mickey was never one to beat around the bush and Harry nodded
stiffly, never one to lie.

“I told you I was a freak didn’t I.” the question was not aimed at anyone in particular but Ray
thought back to that day in the kitchen, the doubt of his name really being Harry and the even
bigger reluctance in accepting he was not a freak.

“Kid, you’re gonna make him cry again.” Mickey drawled and Harry’s eyes widened
comically, limbs flailing as he sat up to cup Ray’s face like he used to do when he was tiny
and innocent and not one year away from maturity.

“Don’t cry! Jesus Christ don’t cry Ray.” his thumbs pressed under Ray’s eyes gently then
over the shells of his ears before coming to rest by the corners of his mouth.

“I’m sorry for calling myself a freak alright? Please don’t cry love, please don’t.” he pleaded
softly and neither was aware Mickey had left the room.

Ray squeezed his eyes shut, shoulders slumping when Harry pressed soft kisses along his
jawline line then to his lips, a kiss that Ray eagerly returned until Harry’s room smelled like
horny omega and equally horny alpha.

“W-we can’t… not yet…”

“I know. We won’t. But you know I don’t like it when you’re upset love.” Harry reasoned,
shushing Ray’s indignant shout when he ripped the IV line out of his arm before pulling Ray
onto his bed.

Palming the omega’s ass through the slacks that always accentuated his curves, the soft
cardigan being undone so Harry could lick and nip at his nipples through the dress shirt, the
bud growing harder by the second until they peaked in erect points against the material.
Ray gasped at the feeling of teeth pulling at his nipples, unable to stop the flow of slick
leaking from his ass especially when Harry’s hands kneaded the round globes. At the smell of
Ray’s slick Harry pressed two fingers against the crease of the pants until they reached the
wetness of his asshole, fingers rubbing over the clothed pucker until Ray was shuddering
with pleasure.

“Harry we - we can’t .” he reiterated, face flushed and words reedy with pleasure but resolve
firm.

“And we won’t. Just let me… let me cheer you up.” it was more of a request than a command
but Ray still went limp, Harry rolling them over so the positions were changed.

Dragging Ray closer Harry settled in the V of his thighs, the young alpha pressing the hard
line of his cock against Ray’s own burden, the press of erection on erection making them
both moan.

“I’ll buy you a new one, don’t fret.” Harry chirped before tearing Ray’s shirt open to expose
the hard nipples to the autumn air.

He would indeed fret later because there was a lot to be said about ripping open peoples
clothes but for now - now all he could do was grip Harry’s hair in a tight fist as a warm
tongue bathed his aching nipples, the alpha sucking one as his hand pinched the other one.

“Harry! Ah…!”

Suckling the nipple Harry rocked his hips downward to draw another low moan from Ray,
the thick thighs of his omega wrapping around Harry’s tapered waist to keep him close as
they dry humped, covered cocks sliding with friction against one another while Harry toyed
with his chest, the sensitive nubs sending lightning down his spine and to his balls.

Harry knew he was a lucky man, lucky enough to be rescued from living in his own filth and
a dead bloated rat under the rickety cot they told him was a bed.

Lucky to meet his soulmate the same day he saw the sunlight for the first time in days. Lucky
to have been cared for, raised and fed and loved.

He also knew he had a screw or two loose, a psychological scar left from the Dursley’s
mistreatment that might never go away.

But Harry also knew he was fucking lucky to have an omega like Ray. Someone who was
strong, frighteningly intelligent and could probably kill anyone with a pencil should he put
his mind to.
Shoving his tongue as deep as it could go into the sweet tasting hole Harry slurped at the
slick leaking from the twitching hole, Ray’s hips shaking and pushing back against his tongue
with small sounds of esctasy leaving his mouth where he had his face buried in the pillow.

Harry could shove his entire cock in right now and Ray would take every inch without
complaint, his hole already open and dripping from his oncoming heat but Harry had been
raised by gentlemen, men who opened doors for omegas and some betas, shook hands with
alphas and shot assholes in the dick then the face who decided to fuck around and test his
patience and lacking to little morals.

He learned the fine art of dressing to kill, could handle most guns, hand to hand combat was a
favourite of his despite his stance of no-violence-until-needed, he was not too shabby at
handling blades and had waited eight years to be able to properly touch Ray.

For eight long agonizing years he had to stand by and watch his other half parade himself
before Harry, the form fitting slacks, large chest stretching against material of the shirts and
all he could do was kiss and lightly touch. The sweet smell that always gave him a headrush
was now right under his nose, the slick tasting as sweet as it smelled.

“Ray can I - can we do it from the front? Wanna see your face.” his voice was rough, eyes
dark as he stared over the form of his first and only love, a formidable man in his own right
but as sweet as honey to Harry.

Ray groaned and rolled over to show Harry his flushed cheeks and bitten lip, nipples stiff
peaks on the tan expanse of his chest and Jesus Christ his cock looked ready to burst, the
slightly above average omega dick an angry red hovering shy of his lower belly.

“Shit… you’re beautiful Ray.” his hands sliding up the powerful thighs, over the muscled
abdomen and up to the large pectoral he loved to secretly call tits, better than any he’s seen
on a woman in his unbiased opinion.

“Spending too much time around Mickey.” the omega mumbled but Harry knew he was
pleased.

“Maybe.” the first lick over the omega cock head made Ray arch up into a half crunch,
abdomen contracting and his thighs tensing.

“Or maybe I just believe my omega is Mother sent and the most beautiful creature I will ever
see.” he drawled, warm breath brushing over the flushed tip and on the whining insistence of
Ray he swallowed the four inches down, tongue rolling over the short shaft to slurp on the
tip.

“ Haa! ” Ray was not fucking up into his face so much as he held Harry down, legs spread
and both hands in the messy hair.

“Nghnn! Ah!” Ray shuddered, convulsed when three fingers shoved inside his wetness to toy
with his prostate, the stimulation too much for his already overloaded nerves.
Harry moaned and swallowed happily as the sweet almost creamy sterile cum filled his
mouth. Suckling the omega cock until Ray was once again soft, Harry slid up the panting but
gloriously impressive body of his mate, a wide grin on his lips.

“Not bad for the first time eh?”

Harry’s cock was an aching bulge in his jeans, having been hard since Ray dragged him from
the Parson home and to one surrounded by high hedges, a huge backyard with the word
Potter on the mailbox outside of the gate.

It had been a surprise for him, Ray buying them a house to make a home and if that was not a
declaration of the intent to make little ones then grass was blue and chickens could bark.

Then the smell of preheat hit Harry like a sock full of bricks.

That had been nearly three hours ago but despite being a freshly minted 18 year old alpha he
wanted to take the time to explore the body he had been denied for eight years. He knew what
his own cock looked like, this was the first time he was seeing Ray’s and fuck if it wasn’t
beautiful.

The smell of heat was getting stronger and Ray insisted on having Harry before all logic left
his brain and he turned into an animal.

Harry very much so wanted to see this animal but whereas Ray was his saviour, Mickey was
his role model, a good man and an even better alpha to Rosalind and Harry wanted to be that
to Ray.

“Do you, do you want me to uh wrap it up? Put on a condom I mean.”

“Hmm?” Ray peaked up from where he was still enjoying his post orgasm bliss, hazel eyes
taking in the now adult alpha, distinct from the tiny kid with his now broad shoulders, muscle
that would continue to build along his biceps, abodmen and back and then to the prominent
curve in his jeans.

Sitting up he crawled forward to nuzzle Harry’s crotch, the alpha jerking away but like a
magnet came right back. Using his teeth he pulled down the zipper and Harry the ever helpful
boy undid the button, hands trembling faintly where they brushed back Ray’s blond’s hair
from his face.

Ray used only his mouth to tug the underwear down, alpha musk and mate filling his nostrils
before a fat cock slapped him in the face. His hole fluttered at the sight of it. A long thick
line, veins bulging from the strain and precum dribbling from the tip.

This was the first time he was seeing it whereas before he had only felt it pressing against
him where ever Harry could corner him and they had five minutes alone.

Licking a broad line from the heavy balls to to the tip Ray wasted no time in sampling him,
tongue dipping into his slit and Harry for all his patience was a very impatient man, fisting a
handful of blond hair he pulled Ray forward making several inches slide into his mouth and
the sound of Ray gagging was perhaps top two of the most wonderful sounds.

Ray grunted but continued on, bobbing his head despite his jaw aching from how wide it was
stretched and it would take practice but he knew eventually he’d be able to swallow the
entirety of it, right down to the base and far down enough he would feel it in his throat.

“Ray I want - I need to fuck you.” it was a near whine and Ray blinked slowly at the haze
filtering in his brain, the building heat in his body and throbbing centered inside his asshole,
down to a part of him that craved everything Harry was about to give.

“Fuck.” he assumed half a day until his heat was now probably thirty minutes or less.

Dragging Harry down onto the bed with him Ray let the younger man push a pillow under his
lower back before he opened his legs, hole fluttering where it glistened with his natural juices
“Come on then love, didn’t you say you were gonna fuck me?” it was a taunt and Ray gasped
soon after.

The prodding of the wide head then the slight burn as Harry eased his way in, hissing at the
tightness and a Ray whimpering mess as he was filled to the brim and more, Harry’s cock
pressing dangerously at his cervix, the tip nudging at the closed opening and with how close
his heat was to approaching the possibility of it entering was very real.

The hot push and pull of Harry’s cock rearranging his insides was a sensation Ray could not
have prepared for, the slick helping but not making the friction any less as he was opened up
wider than any other alpha had been able to before.

Vaguely he realized he was crying out and Harry responded by pressing his full weight down
onto him, not that he was heavy because Ray was still bigger, more muscular but the heated
kiss, a tongue sliding into his mouth to coil around his own muscle as his hole was fucked
wide and sloppy and -

Jesus fucking Christ son of Mary...

“Shit!” Harry yelped when the already tight hole constricted further around him as Ray came,
his omega shivering from the aftermath and Harry could only move when he relaxed, a
tentative thrust then the snapping of his hips.

Nipping at the tan flesh of Ray’s chest he suckled on one of the hard nipples, Ray cursing and
holding him close to pull him up into another kiss when he felt the base of the alpha’s cock
beginning to swell.

Ray had never been knotted before, that honor was only given to a mate or the second best
option, someone he was in love with.

Harry just happened to be both of those things.

Harry pushed Ray’s legs further back, thrusts driving forward in hard slaps of his hips
bordering on brutal, each slippery slide of the cock felt like he was reaching a peak of heaven
someone like him would never be able to touch. This was no longer a carefully executed plan
or whatever it was Harry was attempting to do by licking, sucking and fingering him for over
three hours.

This was rough and carnal and Ray fucking loved it. His hole squelching and walls
tightening, omega cunt welcoming in Harry as his pheromones clouding the room
encouraged him to do more, fuck him harder, breed him full.

The knot was bigger now and he winced when Harry pulled it out only to shoved it back in,
panting breaths and the look of utter concentration on the younger man’s face was both
adorable and endearing, but the swelling of the knot inflating inside him was neither.

“Ah! Harry it’s -” toes curling Ray keened, his cock letting out a short burst of white and
Harry grunted, slamming forward once more and with a stifled cry he came, knot fully
swollen and pushing Ray beyond anything he had ever experienced to the point of pain.

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry.” fingers brushed under his eyes to wipe away the tears, the
sharp twinges radiating where the knot pushed him far too wide, Harry nudging forward and
then it was like fireworks exploding in Ray’s head.

“Do that again.” he mumbled and Harry ever the compliant boy even when he was still
cumming load after load inside of Ray moved forward again, his cock rubbing deliciously
against his enlarged prostate.

Suddenly the pain turned to pleasure and his lower belly distended slightly from the influx of
cum trapped within him, Harry occupying himself by driving Ray up the wall by sucking on
his chest, his hands kneading the heavy pecs where the mammary glands laid under the soft
muscle.

“When you get pregnant I’ll suck on these even the baby comes. Wonder how sweet your
milk’ll taste.”

Ray blushed, covering his face with a hand to hide the sudden onset of embarassment. Harry
did that sometimes, voicing his thoughts without knowing but Ray had to admit the image
was… thought provoking.

Harry panted, lungs trying their hardest to supply his body with oxygen, heart beat racing and
his cock spent. Glancing to the side he drew the blanket further up Ray’s body, the man
unconscious and for the first time in three days was not trying to kill Harry with his sheer
propensity of needing to be fucked.

Omega heats were no joke he surmissed.

 Between having to make sure Ray didn’t brain himself on the floor when trying to follow
Harry, he had to be fed easily swallowed foods and definitely kept hydrated all before and
after the omega clawed at him to get his share of being filled.

Biology was amazing. Never did Harry know he had the ability to cum as much as he did or
the skill to repeatedly get hard just by smelling the pungent sweetness of Ray’s heat
pheromones, a heavy cloud in the room that kept the alpha part of himself on his toes.

The bed was mess of cum, piss and sweat, Harry managing to fuck not only an orgasm but
Ray’s bladder out of his body, the initial spray of clear liquid had shocked him but Ray’s
wanton cries for “More Alpha” and the gushing of slick got him over the surprise very
quickly.

Harry had just cum, the foresight of pulling out to cum on the omega’s back rather than to
knot him again and Ray had suddenly slumped, a dead limp weight on top of Harry. A
freakout later and the conclusion Ray was just conscious Harry could lay in the bed and just
breathe .

Getting his legs to work was an effort but not nearly as much as the shock he got at finding
Rosalind, Mickey, Bunny, Dave and Frank in his kitchen having tea, the men cheering upon
seeing him and Rosalind smiling at him.

Harry shook his head and turned around, locking the bedroom door then snuggled up against
Ray, pressing a soft kiss to crown of his sweat damp hair, the man grumbling but inching
closer enough to plaster himself over Harry’s warm body.

Victoria Belladine Potter announced her arrival with a powerful pair of lungs and a headfull
of dark downy hair and already so displeased with the world.

Harry stared at the wrinkled red thing that was his daughter, her little grunt of irritation after
her screaming cries quieted when the doctor passed her off to her omega mother, Ray cooing
and the baby mewling in response.

Harry stared, a bit numb, a bit too raw and sensitive, eyes never leaving the image of his tiny
family.

Ray looked up, hazel eyes swimming with so many emotions Harry was damned to look
away and damned to keep eye contact, stumbling closer when Ray held out a hand to him, the
other tilting the nursing baby so Harry could see the squinted baby blues of her eyes.

“Say hello to your Papa, Victoria.”

Chapter End Notes

I need to get my laptop serviced, she's 7 years old and still kicking so I'm honored lol.

If you haven't watched The Gentlemen yet, you should, it's awesome and Ray is adorbs.

Drop any prompts and pairings you guys wanna see. Thanks for the comments and love.
 Harry/Spencer Reid
Chapter Summary

Pop-culture logic dubbed them zombies, or perhaps Walkers as the show Garcia made
him watch called them, but Reid’s scientist brain could not, would not name the
reanimated human corpses as something as silly as zombies.

Chapter Notes
See the end of the chapter for notes

Reanimated, Shoot, Sex

Inspired by Zombie, Hide, Sex by Yodogawa Yuo

Logically it should be impossible for a deceased human being to revive itself through the
power of the synapses alone and no heartbeat, much less a pulse.

Biologically it most definitely was impossible.

However, Reid in the last few months learned that logic and stuff like biology no longer were
a combined force when dealing with the world. He had watched entire clips be emptied into a
man only for him to drag himself off the ground to continue the attack, and as much as his
brain had screamed impossible, his eyes witnessed it.

Grunting he pushed back against the door, feet sliding but thankfully he did not lose his grip
on the one thing standing between him and five of those things that were once human.

Pop-culture logic dubbed them zombies, or perhaps Walkers as the show Garcia made him
watch called them, but Reid’s scientist brain could not, would not name the reanimated
human corpses as something as silly as zombies .

So the ‘Reanimated’ would have to do.

It sounded a lot better too, a bit long compared to a decades-long title but his brain frazzled
and mouth locked up when he tried to say the stupid name of ‘zombies’.

Ugh, who even created that name? Who sat down one day and decided to create a name for
corpses who ate people?

A hard slam against the door made him yelp, shoulder throbbing in pain and the noise only
seemed to spur them on more.
He was tired. A tiny section of his brain entertained the idea of just letting the door fall open,
to see how quickly he would be killed just so he could end the agony of talking to ghosts and
hearing corporeal spirits wandering the streets.

A louder part of his brain that sounded eerily like Morgan shouted at him to keep fighting, to
keep pushing, to keep up hope.

He had for a brief moment believed himself to be in love with the older man, whether it was
from his gentle teasings or his kind smiles and sound encouragement whenever Spencer felt
less than adequate.

What he did know was that not only Morgan was selfless, brave, kind, and gentle, he could
also reject someone with the same altruism he would offer a fallen child.

Derek admitted that while Reid was cute, he also only saw him as a younger brother.
Someone he had to protect on and off duty, and yea it did sting - a lot, but their relationship
became stronger for it. Whereas he had been hesitant, Morgan would drag him to Penelope’s
place with him to have a movie night, wine and take-out.

It was also there that he was the first to be told they were dating.

His feet slipped and Reid scrambled to keep a hold of the door.

He was tired, had not eaten in days, his water ran out yesterday and a decent night's sleep was
only a figment of his imagination. Spencer may not have ever been a social butterfly but
being on the BAU made it near impossible to shut himself off from his colleagues, the
memories, the outings, the interactions all were now so deeply ingrained in him he felt he
was about to go crazy from the isolation.

Morgan was still telling him to not give up, voice so clear in clarity he felt as though the man
was beside him, but it was hard to fight when you no longer wanted to.

Hotch would probably give him a disappointed frown, that intense paternal stare would be
enough to make him stand a bit taller.

JJ perhaps would have punched him in the shoulder for even thinking of dying, intense as
well but in sisterly love.

Rossi would have muttered something in Italian before pulling him in for a hug simply
because he was more touchy-feely than Rossi would ever admit aloud.

Prentiss in all of her stilted words of affection would pat him on the head and tell him quietly
to never give up, to try and find the silver lining.

Penelope would have cried. No doubt the computer whiz would have broken down in tears of
such mass effect he would instantly feel guilty enough to find a new drive to carry on. She
would also hug him while smelling like everything good in the world.

Derek.
Derek’s hugs were the best. Warm and encompassing with the smell of coffee, vanilla, and
what smelled like cocoa butter. Derek would have ruffled his hair just to irk him before
making him stop and think of how dumb his idea was. He might have been disappointed too,
and that Spencer noted was somehow worse than Hotch’s trademark frown.

Spencer giggled despite the reanimated outside the door gaining ground, their snarls loud as
ever and he dared not shout for help in the event it brought more to him.

He didn’t want to die, no, but was there really a point in living in the world anymore?

He missed his mom.

He missed his team.

His eyes burned and he gasped at the realization he was crying.

A bad idea given how dehydrated he was but the tears would not stop, chest tightening, and
breaths short.

“I don’t want to die…”

His feet slipped again, Spencer slamming his slight weight against the door quickly.

“Someone please help me.” he whispered.

“Please. Please. Please.”

An additional weight pushed against the already heavy door and Spencer cried out when he
was bodily flung across the small empty space and within seconds the undead spilled in and
Spencer could only stare at death as it stumbled towards him, jugular missing.

He had always thought some unsub would have gotten the drop on him, or maybe he would
die an old man recounting the tales of his team to the children of his friends, because he did
not think he would ever find someone to a share a bond with so deep he’d want to create a
family with them.

A man who could settle down with his rapid information and consistent talking while being
painfully virginal and needing time to understand everything that came with a relationship.

Instead, he would die in an empty tiny storage space eaten by reanimated corpses, alone.

Spencer giggled again and was tempted to open his arms wide in acceptance of the rotting
corpse of a man, the smell of it so putrid his eyes watered and he gagged.

The sharp and ear-ringing sound of gunfire startled him back to reality in time to watch the
five reanimated drop dead and the final one who was about to aim for his neck to be taken
down by a single bullet to the head. Spencer had enough common sense to close his eyes and
mouth before the splatter of gore could get into either.

He was covered in reanimated blood and brain matter but he was alive.
He was alive.

Wiping away the sticky, smelling liquid Spencer peaked up at his savior because it was very
much so a man no matter, how he looked at the tall figure, said man was staring back at him,
eyes accessing behind the balaclava but silent.

“I-I’m not bitten!” he gasped, standing quickly but not moving forward when the M-4 was
raised slightly.

Without hesitation Reid stripped himself of his shirt, turning slowly in a circle so the man
could see every inch of his exposed torso. He moved down onto the filthy jeans and though
his face burned in embarrassed humiliation Spencer made sure the man could see his thighs,
hips, and calves were devoid of any injuries beyond scrapes and small cuts but no bite
wounds.

The balaclava the stranger wore only allowed Spencer to see his eyes just as the tight
S.W.A.T issue standard shirt only showed his forearms with a tattoo spiraling from beneath
the black material and down to the elbow. Military cargo pants and boots with a duffle bag
behind him on the ground.

Nodding once the man stepped back, reaching down to pick up the bag and Spencer felt panic
build in his chest.

“W-Wait!”

The man turned again, bag over his shoulder and Spencer quickly pulled up his pants, face
still burning at having exposed himself to another.

“Can… can I come with you?”

He got the impression a brow was raised.

“I- I don’t have anyone, my friends… I haven’t seen them since this started and I’m… I don’t
want to be alone anymore…”

The staring was beginning to unnerve him and Spencer looked down, hands clenched to his
sides.

“Please take me with you. I’ll do anything I can to help and I won’t slow you down! I used to
be part of the BAU as a supervisory special agent. I can use a gun and I know about
medicinal herbs, how to treat wounds and - and…”

He bit his lip to fight off the tears threatening to spill over, only looking up when he heard a
muffled sigh, the man coming forward and so close up Spencer realized just how tall and big
he was, the man would have no need to use a gun should he want to kill him.

A Glock-17 was shoved into his hands, the balaclava being tugged down to reveal dark hair
and a couple of days worth of beard.
“I’m trusting you to not shoot me in the back. My name’s Harry Potter-Black, member of the
BPSF.”

Spencer’s eyes widened “I’m Spencer Reid, former BAU special agent.”

Harry nodded again and motioned for him to follow, the M-4 raising only when the threat
was imminent but otherwise, he used a blade to dispatch any of the closer undead, Spencer
following his lead as they traversed through the clinic he had run into hoping to find food or
water.

“Um, can I ask you a question?”

“Sure.” the balaclava was back up and Spencer walked a bit quicker so he was more next to
the man rather than behind him.

“Why is a British Police Special Forces here in Virginia?”

Apocalypse or not, Spencer was a sponge when it came to information.

“A two-week long joint exercise where SWAT from five countries came together and trained
together, exchanging tactical information and the like. Ten members from each country.”

“And your squad is -”

“Dead. Along with most of the others. Despite our numbers, we were not prepared for
something like this.”

Harry nudged for him to turn left at the sign of the pharmacy, most of the heavy drugs were
cleaned out but the boxes of paracetamol and Tylenol were still on the shelves along with
antiseptics, antibiotics, and bandages. Spencer packed the items in while Harry stood to
watch, Reid glancing back every now and then to the broad back just to make sure he was in
fact not imagining all of it and Harry the BPSF was in fact there.

“Done.”

“Can you carry it?”

Spencer nodded, the bag weighed practically nothing.

“Here, drink all of it.”

A sealed water bottle was thrown to him and Spencer groaned at the taste of cool water, his
parched throat being soothed from the near cold liquid, Harry stared at him as he gulped the
entire bottle down. He squirmed and Harry snorted.

Leaving the clinic was less amusing, a horde having been attracted by the sounds of gunfire
from before and Spencer bemoaned the fact they were not normal slow-walking undead as he
and Harry ran through the streets, the man stopping occasionally to trim down the size of the
horde with single bullet headshots.
Spencer took out any that came close to the man, shots not as perfect but they got the job
done, Harry giving an appreciative nod.

“Come this way, I set up camp here a few days ago.”

Harry took his hand and ran again, Spencer mystified at the feeling of a warm hand around
his, squeezing the larger appendage to confirm its realness.

The place they ran to was dark on the inside, Harry turning on the flashlight on the M-4.

“Stay close to me Spencer.”

Reid did just that, practically blind in the darkness around him. It took several long minutes
but space was deemed clear and Harry led them up some stairs, several of the doors barred
off and the sounds of muffled snarls and groans reached his ears from the hallway.

Harry opened a door further down the dark hallway, a room consisting of a bed and bathroom
with a window of a three-story drop.

“We can stay here until tomorrow morning.”

Spencer nodded and timidly sat in a chair next to the bed as Harry shut the blinds to the
window and set up two solar-powered lanterns to provide some light into the room, a smaller
third one placed in the bathroom.

“The water still works, you can take a shower first. I can’t do much in the way of pants but I
can provide you a shirt. Wash the jeans and underwear, maybe they will be dry by the
morning.”

Spencer blushed and nearly tripped over his two feet on the way to the bathroom, stripping
again for the second time that day. The water was cold but compared to how dirty he was it
felt amazing, the shower having half a bar of soap and a tiny bit of shampoo.

Staring at himself in the dirty mirror Spencer poked at his thin belly and sharp collarbones.
Hair wet but still curly and thanks to the water Harry gave him his lips were no longer so
chapped. Wrapping a towel around his waist Spencer startled when the bathroom door
opened, hazel eyes widening at the naked well-built torso he was now staring at.

His eyes trailed down the chiseled chest, defined abdomen and down to what was perhaps the
biggest penis he had ever seen, limp or hard.

Spencer flushed until his face felt as though it was on fire.

“Are you finished?”

“F-finished?” he did not mean to squeak but Harry only gave a small quirk of the lips and
stepped closer.

“With the shower.”

“Oh! Oh yes! I am, sorry!”

Spencer moved to the right and Harry stepped that way as well, both stepping to the left at
the same time until Harry laughed, warm hand resting on Spencer’s wet bare shoulder to
squeeze past him.

Walking from the bathroom to sit on the bed he realized with horror he did not have anything
to wear now that his clothes were hanging in the bathroom after being scrubbed somewhat
marginally clean.

Harry came out five minutes later toweling his hair with the towel that should have been
wrapped around his waist. Spencer turned his head away, a voice that sounded suspiciously
like Garcia telling him to peak, that one peak would never hurt.

Spencer peaked and in the bright room, he could see every distinguishable feature about the
tanned and very naked body a few feet away.

Harry was a very strapping man.

Muscular legs from years of training and a body that contained what Spencer knew to be a
ton of raw strength, biceps burly enough that he did not need to flex, broad shoulders and -

“You shaved?”

“I did yes. You finished?” Harry asked, an amused inflection in his voice and the mirth only
increased at the confused expression on the BAU agent’s face.

Spencer blinked, tilting his head to the side “Finished with what?”

Harry snorted and walked the short distance to where Reid sat, the towel that hung over his
head now drying the former BAU agent’s hair despite Reid’s protests. It was only when his
hair no longer dripped water did Harry stop, stare at it then roughly pat himself dry afterward
with the same towel that was carelessly tossed in a corner.

Spencer watched as the man flopped down onto the bed groaning at the feeling of a mattress
and pillows, even if they were slightly musty.

Harry looked at the other man from where he laid against one of the pillows, chest rising and
falling slowly, eyes taking in the image of Spencer who sat awkwardly at the edge of the
mattress, eyes trailing down the slim figure which could probably use a couple of meals to
put some healthy fat on him.

“When was the last time you ate?”

He murmured but in the silent room and even quieter surroundings he was heard clearly.
Spencer turning to look at him like a doe in headlights, hazel eyes round and his tousled hair
frankly making him look comically adorable.

“A um… a few days?”

Snorting Harry sat up with a grunt, dragging his feet over to the duffle bag he had carried
where it rested on a table across the room. Within was ammunition for the two Glocks,
shotgun and M-4 he carried, water and canned food with a couple of snacks and other items.

Fishing out a bowl he placed it in Spencer’s hand when the man hovered beside him, opening
a can of tuna with preserved corn, onions and other veggies inside he dumped the contents
into the metal bowl along with a dozen crackers.

“Here, we’ll share that one.”

Spencer took another bottle of water and demurely returned to the edge of the bed, Harry
sitting next to him close enough he could feel the other’s body heat. The BPSF settled with
just a packet of pretzels and Spencer tried his best to eat as civilized as possible but the taste
of actual food on his tongue made it difficult.

“Hey, slow down or you’ll make yourself sick.” the chastisement was as gentle as the large
hand on his head, Spencer ducking his head a bit to hide his pinkening cheeks.

It was more so the warm hand on his head than the words that made him slow down, the
agent taking his time to chew the salted cracker topped with tuna. He didn’t mean to moan,
but now he actually took his time and tasted the food it was probably the best thing he had
ever eaten since the world flipped upside down.

Glancing over to the silent man Spencer shifted on the bed, his arm bumping into Harry’s. It
was a mistake but it had gained his attention so Spencer swallowed the nerves and asked
what had been on his mind for the past few minutes.

“Aren’t you going to uh, take care of it?”

“Hmm?”

Spencer flushed a bit and pointed towards Harry’s lap where his penis now stood erect
without prompt, Harry looking down at it only to shrug.

“I’m used to it. Normally happens when adrenaline is still in my system after the kind of day
I had. It will go away on its own.”

The British man popped two pretzels into his mouth and honestly, Spencer was a bit baffled.
He did not really take part in masturbation, only recently venturing towards butt play and
even then he was still wary to do anything extreme like buying a dildo.

Absent-mindedly chewing on the cracker in his mouth the former agent stared at the rather
thick but long penis. If he measured correctly with his eyes it was maybe about 10 to 10.7
inches long with an impressive girth.

His toes curled where they were pressed into the carpet.

“And um… wh-what if it doesn’t go away on its own. What then?”

His heart was pounding in his chest at the silly questions he was asking because there was a
good percentage that Harry was as straight as they possibly came and his questions would
aggravate the man who was practically his life-line at the moment.

Harry remained silent for a long moment, the bigger man turning so he faced Spencer, green
eyes serious and expression neutral.

“Then I go into the bathroom and wank it out.”

Harry’s eyes darkened by shade and the analyst nibbled on his lower lip, his heart nearly
stopping when a calloused thumb pressed to the bottom lip and gently extracted it from his
teeth. The finger remained, gently brushes over his abused lip before it lowered and pressed
to his pulse point.

“Or do you perhaps have a better idea.”

Spencer forgot how to breathe and without his consent, he felt himself swell under the towel.
He could list all the mental disorders there were in the world, could pick out sociopaths,
psychopaths, and any other from a crowd of people just by observing their mannerisms, but
this? This was an entire area of his life he had never explored before.

To think it took a reanimation apocalypse for him to end up on a bed with a naked gorgeous
man with a beautiful erection.

“Y-you… you could - you could use me?”

Harry looked vaguely amused.

“Are you asking or telling me to.”

Spencer went a bit cross-eyed when the thumb slipped from his pulse to his nipple, electricity
sparking along his chest where he was being touched.

“Telling… definitely telling.”

“Is that so.” the finger pressed over the stiffening nub, tugging on it until it was well and
truely hard.

“I’ve never.” he gulped.

“I’ve never done anything with a man before. Not that I didn’t want to but the circumstances
were never correct and I was waiting for the right time, with the right person. Though I’ve
done extensive research on anal sex, the risks as well as the benefits, and I know my prostate
will be a source of pleasure should it be tended to correctly I’m actually very -”

He stopped abruptly mid-rant waiting to be told he spoke too much or there was too much
information.

Harry chuckled. “I don’t think I’ve ever really researched sex before. Kinda all just fell into
place.”
Spencer’s ears burned in embarrassment causing Harry to tilt his head up so he could peer
into his eyes.

“I never said I was not interested in hearing. I’ve got the prostate part covered, however.
Don’t worry about that.”

Harry winked and Spencer ducked his head when his penis did something obscene like leak
from the tip. He knew scientifically it was called pre-ejaculatory fluid that came from the
Cowper’s glands and it was supposed to happen when a man became aroused but; Spencer
whined.

Harry looked between the flushed face to the tented towel, curiosity on his features. He had
known Spencer the BAU agent for less than 12 hours but he could already tell that the man
was a bit quirky. Whether he had been aware of it during their journey from the clinic to the
motel, Spencer mumbled. A lot.

Sentences with long words Harry did not know existed in the human vocabulary, enough so
he concluded that Spencer was perhaps some sort of genius.

Though the impromptu strip-show in the clinic empty broom closet had been surprising it
was not unwarranted, he had gotten a look at a perky bum after all.

But this apparent fear of his own erection?

“Have you… never had one before?” he asked slowly, not wanting to scare off the man.

Spencer flushed deeper “Yes I have! I ju-just… I don’t really m-masturbate…”

“Ah.” Harry gave a pause. “Why not?”

Spencer looked at him as if he asked why cannibalism was not acceptable, hazel eyes wide
and mouth agape, and by whatever god was watching over them Harry tried to keep his
thoughts clean but it was quite literally hard to do so.

His cock twitched, Spencer looked down at it in clear fascination before their eyes met again.
A pink tongue licked over the bitten bottom lip and Harry groaned.

“My job it… it did not allow for much pleasant masturbatory material given what I have
seen.”

“Mhm. And is our current predicament any different than a gory crime scene?”

Spencer blinked. “I - I suppose not.”

Harry pointed down to the tent towel “Yet you are erect.”

Spencer blinked his wide eyes again “It would appear I am.”

Harry ducked his head to hide his smile, if he had known there were such beautiful
Americans in Quantico, Virginia he would have signed up for the joint exercises years ago.
“Shall I help you with it?”

Harry was honestly beginning to worry the man might pass out given how much he was
flushing, his offer only increasing the blood flow to his face and ears, pink beginning to
blossom on his chest as well. The agent worried his lip again before nodding, a shy but
determined expression on his face.

“Are you sure? Despite my stature, I will not force you to do anything you are not
comfortable with Spencer.”

The smaller man shook his head “It’s not that. Just… my aunt Mabel always said dying a
virgin was better than dying a sinner, a foolish thing to say since I highly doubt whatever God
she worshipped would have cared if she was a virgin or not given the lack of science behind
religion and the afterlife but - dying a virgin is not something I had ever wanted to do.”

That confession startled a laugh from Harry, Spencer smiling at the bark of laughter.

“Today I was ready to die. There was no way out and I was frightened that I wanted to give
up but then you appeared.”

“So this is a way to show your appreciation?” he frowned a bit and Spencer scrambled to
correct himself, hand resting on Harry’s thigh without thinking.

“No! Well, maybe? It is more like should I die tomorrow then at least I can scratch one thing
from my bucket list.”

The hand on Harry’s thigh was a bit cold. Placing his own larger one over it he squeezed
Spencer’s hand lightly.

“And what would that be?”

“T-to have sex with an attractive but kind man.” it was mumbled so softly Harry barely heard
him.

Sighing the BPSF officer ran his free hand through his hair before tilting Spencer’s head up
again.

“I will protect you, you have my word. The BPSF may be disbanded given the outbreak but
I’m still sworn to duty, whether you are a civilian or otherwise, so if you are doing this as a
way to thank me for saving you then, we might do this quite often.”

It was a joke to lighten the mood some, to take that dark cloud of dying away from Spencer’s
thoughts, and perhaps see the shy smile again.

Spencer blinked and nodded “Alright. I see no problem with that.”

Harry sputtered at the bold statement “You see no problem with us having sex each time I
save you or protect you?”
It came out more as a wheeze and Spencer nodded again and Harry did not have it in himself
to argue.

“Okay, up onto the bed you go.”

Spencer froze “Will it hurt? I read several articles and they said penetration should not hurt to
the point of extreme pain but some mild discomfort will occur even if they are properly
prepared especially if the partner is as large as you are and I -”

Spencer moaned into the kiss Harry surprised him with, it was deep, Harry’s tongue twirling
and licking over his own. He might have whimpered when the other pulled away.

“It will not hurt because I will not be penetrating you today.”

“But I -”

“There are other ways to have sex, Spencer. Ways that will bring us both pleasure. Prepping
you for sex shouldn’t be done in such a dirty place anyway. It should be somewhat nicer.”

Spencer looked ready to protest again but Harry quickly silenced him with another kiss, the
agent frowning slightly.

“You can’t make a habit of silencing me with a kiss.”

“Can’t I?” Harry grinned when the other huffed and diverted his eyes.

“Look, I know it may be much to ask but just trust me alright? You can add this to your
bucket list.”

Spencer was highly doubtful of this method but he complied because a) he was the virgin
between them two and, b) Harry was confident in his assumption, so who was Spencer to say
no when he had only ever wiggled a single finger inside himself.

Harry had rearranged him on the edge of the bed, bottom high in the air and his head on his
folded arms, Spencer resisted the urge to squirm as Harry searched the drawers next to the
bed, a triumphant sound and then a warm hand on Spencer’s lower back.

“It may be a bit cold but it’ll warm up soon enough alright?”

He barely gave a confirmation before a cold liquid was squirted over his ass, the goo going
warm seconds later as it slipped down his crack and over his balls, some coating his thighs as
well.

“You have a pretty hole, Spencer.” Harry murmured and Spencer stifled a moan when a
finger rubbed lightly over the tight pucker, his length getting increasingly wet again.
“Th-thank you.” came the mumbled reply and Harry snorted “You are very welcomed.”

“This is called a thigh fuck, close your legs a bit more for me.”

Spencer shifted his stance, keeping the arch as he was instructed but tightened his thighs. He
gasped when he felt a blunt hardness nudge over his hole, the lube making it slippery before
it nudged against his balls then his thighs.

“Ah…”

Harry watched as the tight crease winked and by God if he had less of a moral compass he
would have screwed the American into the mattress proper preparation be damned, but he
was raised right by his godfather and the last thing he wanted was a disapproving ghost
hovering while he slept.

Pushing his cock between the slippery thighs Harry snapped his hips forward, length rubbing
against Spencer’s balls with every thrust forward and retreat.

“Mhmm!”

It was a strange feeling to have only his thighs used but also have his body react in such a
way. He was never so hard before in his life, cock bouncing with each smack of Harry’s hips
to his ass as the large cock rubbed against his balls and nudged occasionally at his own
length.

It felt as though he was being fucked.

Spencer was totally exposed, the warm hands on his hips keeping him steady and in place,
hole covered in lube as Harry thrust against him, each slap of skin on skin making his hole
twitch and cock leak.

“Ah! Hah! Oooh...Mhmm!”

Never before had these sounds left his mouth, Spencer was not even aware he could make
such noises because even when he masturbated he was quiet, worried the neighbors might
hear him. But here in an empty motel where the only other occupants were locked in their
rooms and the only living people were him and Harry, he felt totally at ease.

Harry leaned down, front pressed against Spencer’s back and the dark-haired man licked the
sweat-damp neck before settling next to Spencer’s ear.

“Does it feel good?”

Spencer moaned and squirmed, thighs rubbing around the cock wedged between them and
Harry’s breath hitched, the BPSF member huffing directly over the lobe, the agent jerking
under him.

“M-My ears are sensitive! You can’t - Haah!”

Harry latched onto the lobe, nibbling it to elicit a strangled moan from the man under him,
Harry’s hand snaking around the slim waist to wrap a calloused hand around the drooling
cock.

Spencer nearly headbutt him but Harry leaned to the side in time.

“Easy… easy, I got you Spencer.” he whispered, stroking him in time with the roll of his
hips.

He had an IQ of 187 and could read 20,000 words per minute with the boost of eidetic
memory, yet right at that moment with Harry pounding him from behind with a hand stroking
his penis Spencer could not even recall the geographical list of fungi he had learned when he
was seven.

“F-feels good! Harry I’m going to - Nghh! Ah…!”

Spencer shuddered, vision going blurry and when he sat down later to recall his first orgasm
in over six months he would remember how his eyes rolled backward when he came in
Harry’s hand, balls clenched and the feeling of Harry’s cock twitching between his thighs.

Harry groaned low in his ear, Spencer moaning softly when the other retreated and warm
liquid spilled over his lower back and between the lube wet cheeks. It was a lot from what he
could feel, the semen mixing with the motel lube over his hole.

Spencer felt sleepy, whether it was from his first having sex or the rough couple of days
before meeting the soldier but he allowed Harry to manhandle him onto the bed, the lazy kiss
pressed to his returned with a grumble.

When he woke next the sky outside was bright beyond the thin curtains and there was a
blanket over his body that felt devoid of lube or semen and Harry was already awake, dressed
and seemingly patiently waiting on him to wake up.

“You should’ve woken me up.”

“You were exhausted, Spencer. You didn’t even twitch when I wiped you down. Besides,
anyone who can sleep for 16 hours straight deserves the rest.”

Spencer sat up in an instant “Sixteen hours? I slept that long?”

“We arrived here after three in the afternoon, had sex after five, and now it’s maybe minutes
to ten in the morning.”

Spencer gaped then groaned “You should have woken me up. I thought we agreed I would
pull my own weight.”

“I also agreed I would protect you. No use in having you faint from exhaustion Spencer. We
can use the rest of the daylight hours to make up for the time lost if it will make you feel
better.”

He nodded and Harry smiled at him making a light blush dust the agent's cheeks.
“I will have a quick shower and we can leave.”

“Mhmm.” Harry watched the man jog to the bathroom with the towel wrapped around his
waist to hide his bum as if Harry had not seen, touched, and cum all over it yesterday.

He watched as Spencer redressed in his slightly damp jeans, one of Harry’s shirts covering
the man’s torso though it was too big.

“Here, eat these.”

Spencer took the two granola bars and the bottled water gratefully, already munching away
on the first by the time they took the back entrance to the garage, his shoes kicking something
making him look down.

Keys.

Harry picked them up, pressing the button until the lights to a Jimny jeep flashed across the
garage.

Taking his second Glock from the holster on his leg Harry looked under the jeep then inside,
the glass unbroken and the doors were locked.

“It’s safe, come on.”

There was half a tank of gas left.

“I never asked but where are you heading?”

Harry turned out of the underground garage and onto the streets, careful to dodge debris and
the occasional undead.

“Before the last of my team got wiped out we heard a message over the radio about a camp in
the south where the old military base is stationed. I don’t know how true it is but at this point,
it can’t hurt to try.”

Spencer knew of the base, the mayor citing it had historical value so they never tore it down
despite maintenance taking up millions of dollars every year.

“Can we… we can stop somewhere first? It’s on the way, I just want to check something.”

Harry nodded “Sure. Where are we heading.”

“Bennington Sanitarium, I’ll uh give you direction since you’re not from around here. My
mother lives there, I just want to see if she made it out or… if she didn’t.”

The admission sat heavy in his chest and Spencer clutched the seatbelt, not flinching but
leaning into the hand that rested at the back of his neck.

“I’ve got you, Spencer.”

 Spencer gave him a watery smile “How about you. Anyone back home that you need to get
back to?”

Harry shook his head “Nah, my godfather who raised me died a few years back. An ex-wife
who hates my guts and took my son from me in a custody battle when he was a year old.
Haven’t seen either of them in almost 10 years. He calls another man dad now so.”

It still hurt to admit but not as much as it did during those early years.

“I’m sorry.” Spencer murmured and Harry shook his head again “No need to be.”

The hand on his neck slipped into his hair then down to his hand, Spencer looking down at
the tanned hand interlaced with his paler one.

He squeezed it.

“When you stand at the abyss, you fall to your knees and you fucking grab for any
comfort, any little thing to keep it from swallowing you whole.”

― T.A.

Chapter End Notes

My laptop has been down but I am back! Hope you enjoyed this kinda long chapter with
darling Spencer!
 Harry/Rigo Vasquez pt2
Chapter Summary

(Continuation of Harry/Rigo. Station 19, a reimagination of the snow storm in ep6 but
would now come after the Fix-It ep.)

Chapter Notes
See the end of the chapter for notes

The minute he walked into Station 19 he knew something was up because not only were
people smiling at him like he was the Saint Mother Theresa but they were offering to do shit
for him.

Victoria ‘Don’t-Ask-Me-To-Do-Shit-Unless-You-Wanna-Owe-Me-A-Favor’ Hughes offered

to carry his bag to the locker while Travis tried to take his coat.

Rigo drew the line at Dean’s offer of a plate full of ham, eggs and fucking golden fluffy
pancakes with a mug of expensive smelling coffee that they never had the week before, all
with a bright smile and a pat on the damn shoulder like they were old buddies and not co-
workers who barely spoke to one another just to keep shit amicable.

It was then that he noticed the new and huge flatscreen tv mounted on the wall, new lights,
the new coffee machine that looked like it came directly from a sci-fi movie, and new
couches. It took him a minute to piece everything together before he groaned into his mug of
the damned wonderful tasting coffee.

Fucking Harry.

Fucking annoying co-workers.

Fucking Pretty-boy Gibson.

“Soooo.” Victoria slid into the chair next to his, her curly hair drawn back in the standard
style but her smile was anything but standard and way too innocent, Montgomery joined her
seconds later like a twin leech.

“No.” Rigo grunted and drained his mug, ignoring Victoria’s gasp of ingenuine shock.

“But you haven’t even heard what I’ve got to say!” Vic exclaimed and Travis shook his head
beside his best-friend. Rigo for a moment was amused, tickled enough to give a sigh and a
wave of his hand for her to continue.
Grinning widely Hughes interlaced her fingers together on top of the table, brown eyes bright
and smile even brighter, all former indignation gone in place of good-natured scheming.

“So we noticed you have a super-rich friend and -”

“He’s not my friend and no.”

“So it’s a He .” she drawled and gave more interested than it had been seconds ago.

Rigo gave a pause. Shit.

“The answer is still no.” he grunted and she pouted “I just wanted to thank Mr. Super Rich
for being all nice to us, not many people are that generous for no reason at all and -”

He snorted in return “Harry’s anything but nice .” that was a lie but Hughes didn’t need to
know.

Besides the pimped up fire-house was not given all it’s shinies simply because Harry felt like
splurging on strangers. Rigo’s ass and body was the payment for his generosity.

Hughes certainly would never know that.

“So his name is Harry .” she drawled again, excitement pliable now and Travis was looking
more and more interested in the conversation than he had been before.

Rigo paused again before abruptly standing to take his plate and mug to the sink to be
washed, hastily throwing back a “Don’t follow me Hughes!” when the woman made to do
just that.

It took three days before he threw in the towel and hide on top of the truck next to the only
other person he could stand beyond Sullivan and Warren.

Andy tilted her head in his direction only as an acknowledgment and he grunted out a “Hola”
the only thing said between them for ten minutes or so before he rolled over onto his side to
stare at Hererra with a groan when the rafters of the station became too much to look at.

“You’re Mr. Popular.” he heard the amusement in her voice and Rigo groaned once again
making her giggle.

“I hate everyone.”

“So does every angsty teenager not knowing what to do with their hormones.”

“Are you calling me a puberty stricken kid?”

Andy gave him a secret smile “Never.”

Rigo sighed and resisted in dragging a hand through his gelled hair. “I don’t want to be. It’s
creepy, tus amigos son raros .”
Andy laughed but didn’t refute the claim. “They’re just happy y’know. Fire stations are
underfunded at times and then boom a pretty blond woman drops a check-in Sullivan’s hand,
then Maya comes down and says you’re taking a week off. I mean, they are weirdos but they
aren’t stupid weirdos.”

“Then they could just thank me like normal people instead of acting like - like -”

“Crazy people?”

“Gracias! Gente Loca! I don’t know why they can’t just stop being so nice .”

Andy’s face did something complicated before it settled on something that vaguely resembled
sadness, maybe even a little pity.

“Oh Vasquez…” she murmured, hand reaching on to pat his shoulder twice and Rigo
watched as she left the top of the rig, leaving him even more confused.

On the fifth day of his return from his impromptu vacation, he found himself moaning into a
possessive kiss, legs held up and open by Harry, with his eyes rolling backward and blunt
nails digging half-moons into the tanned back and neck of the man currently ruining him.

Rigo’s chest was already a mess of cum and sweat, three times he had orgasmed, and finally,
finally, he could feel the twitching of the cock in him as Harry came, cum filling him until he
felt so sloppy inside he felt a flush of embarrassment.

Moaning when the slippery retreat of Harry’s spent cock left him and calloused fingers
circled his hole until Rigo slapped away the hand trying to coax the cum out.

“Maldito demonio.” he mumbled into the soft pillow he was convinced was made of angel
wings.

“Hmm?”

“I said that you’re fucking demon, you prick.” he groaned.

Harry laughed and Rigo was half tempted to kick the bastard from his own bed, only he
couldn’t move and he didn’t want to move. Harry as if sensing his helplessness snuggled up
behind him, lips pressing light kisses to the sweaty nape and curly black hair.

“You tell me the sweetest things Mr. Vasquez, should we go for round five? I’m sure I could
manage to get back up in about ten minutes or so if I ate you out.” Harry cheerfully said,
hands already wandering over the sore nipples and hickey bruised belly.

“Bring you dick anywhere near me and I will feed it to you Potter.” the growl was fearsome
enough to make the supposed mobster laugh, an arm snaking around Rigo’s middle to drag
him closer as if there was not enough space on the bed for four more people he could have
occupied.

His grumbling was silenced but a slow, deep kiss and he could only gasp when Harry pushed
back into his loose cum wet hole minutes later, and his fifth orgasm was as dry as the fourth
but no less delicious.

“You know you could always open the door and jump out if you’re that uncomfortable with
me driving you to work. It’s not like you won’t be late should you catch the bus or
something.”

Harry flippantly said while going 60mph on the freeway, some asshole blaring his horn as
they drove past the Benz in an overtake.

“Whose fault do you think it is that I’m this close to being late - eyes on the road Potter!
Fuck!”

Harry tsked, finger-wagging at him in mock disappointment “Such a dirty mouth so early in
the morning Rigo, honestly, it makes me want to send another pretty check and have you take
another vacation.”

Rigo glared at the man from where he was strapped into the passenger seat, full well knowing
the other was completely serious. He learned early in his encounters with Harry that
boundaries had to established firmly, like training a dog if any weakness was sensed it would
be exploited happily.

“I’m not taking another vacation until the end of the year.” he murmured, eyes remaining on
the road even when he could feel a heavy stare on him.

“I see. Snow or Sand.”

Rigo remained silent for nearly a minute before hesitantly answering “Sand.”

“It’s a date.” Harry smiled at him and Rigo felt like he was losing whatever game they were
playing but not as much as the domesticity of the situation bothered him.

Looking out the rearview mirror he could spot neither head nor hair of the normally present
SUV’s that led and followed Harry everywhere he went, like clown cars, only instead of
colourfully dressed people with a flair for body paint and awful dress codes they were heavily
armed men dressed in suits and monotone voices.

“Where are your puppies?” he asked and Harry shrugged.

“I ditched them. Daddy needs a few hours to himself.”

Rigo’s nose wrinkled at the self-dubbed title “Don’t call yourself that.” he managed to sound
both disgusted and offended to Harry’s ears making him snort loudly

“You do know that I technically am a father right? James, Al, and Lily? I married Ginny for a
reason and it was not because of her cherry pie or tendency to fall on the cocks of athletes.”
The fire-officer stared at the downright dopey grin on Harry’s face, all proud father and
nothing like the lewd bastard he had grown accustomed to.

“And here I thought you married for love. Silly me.” he drawled.

“Like you did? Tell me, does your wife know you can cum from just a prick up your ass?”

Harry retorted and gave Rigo no time to respond when he turned into Station 19’s driveway,
his hand dragging Vasquez closer to give him a bruising kiss, tongue tasting the minty
toothpaste lingering and the mouthwash, tongue licking Rigo’s bottom lip before he let him
go.

They both panted and despite the air condition blasting in the car the space felt too hot and
too constricted, Rigo opening the door to the Benz to stumble out, duffle bag in hand.

Harry watched him stomp up to the doors where there was a gathered crowd of curious-
looking people all staring at the tinted windows of the car, one woman waving cheerfully in
Harry’s direction and Harry honestly couldn’t help but flash the front lights at her in return,
Rigo turning around to glare at him and Harry took that as his cue to leave.

“That’s a hell lot of snow and a hell lot of wind.” Dean stared out at the snow lashing against
the windows of the station, all of the crew both early shift and late shift were stuck on the
inside, no one willing to risk commuting.

“We should start preparing. Storms like this have a tendency to cut power and so -” Sullivan
paused as the sound of the electricity going out was momentarily louder than the wind
outside, the station being cast in darkness before the whirring of the backup generator kicked
in and the lights came back on with two flickers before it remained steady.

Sullivan rubbed his forehead and all of the crew stood straighter when he pinned them all
with dark eyes and a hard stare, even Rigo straightened out his spine some.

“As I was saying, the power will be out and people will come seeking warmth and shelter, I
need you all to find every available blanket, take into account our food storage and make sure
any weapons are inaccessible to the civilians.”

Hours later they were dealing with hordes of desperate, cold, and hungry people, some
agitated by the lack of quick responses and more than once Rigo had to stare down a man or
woman whose temper blew the lid.

“Vasquez! You got a visitor!” Gibson hollered over the voices of the crowded station and
Rigo barely cast him a glance before weaving his way through the crowd and over to the door
where Harry stood.

Three-piece suit covered in melting snow and his hair was windswept, naturally in messy
waves.
Rigo did not know whether to be annoyed at the sight of the familiar face or be happy that
there was now one person he could stand, if just barely.

“What are you doing here in the middle of a storm?”

“Can’t I come and see my second favorite woman?” Harry teased, grin wide and posture
relaxed. Rigo rolled his eyes and dragged the man further into the station and away from the
door before other people came knocking, people he refused to deal with.

“Only second huh.” he grumbled.

Harry took that as an invitation to lean into his space the moment they were around an empty
corner close to the bathrooms.

“Ginny is number one because she gave me my kiddos. If you could pop out one or two I’d
marry you right here and now.” a cold hand pressed to Rigo’s belly and the officer flinched
from both the touch and the chill.

“Our kids would be gorgeous, all that deadly temper of yours and my natural charisma.”
Harry continued.

“Sounds like you’ve thought this over for a while now, daydreaming Potter?” Rigo
murmured, still partially pinned to the wall, head tilting to the side to allow Harry to nuzzle
his neck.

“Every night since our trip.” he admitted and Rigo swallowed reflexively.

“Too bad I’m not a mutant then.”

Harry chuckled lowly and stepped back when voices came from the entrance of the hall “Too
bad indeed.”

Rigo led him around a corner and up the stairs, neither having noticed Vic, Andy or Dean
pressed to the walls of the bathroom where they had snuck off to get away from the influx of
people. The moment Rigo’s voice faded Hughes squealed, hand slapping the hard bicep of
Dean who looked stunned and Andy blinked several times before nodding.

“Kinda makes sense.” she mumbled, Dean whipping his head towards her, eyes wide and
mouth slight agape

“How does any of that make sense.” he pointed in the vague direction of where Harry and
Rigo were seconds ago, eyes still wide and more than a little horrified.

Andrea hummed. She could understand why Dean was so… unsettled. Rigo Vasquez had
swept into Station 19 in a wave of testosterone, sarcasm, mild hostility with a nonchalance so
great it made Travis wary to try and befriend him, which said a lot because Travis tried to
befriend everyone as long as they breathed.

Yet Rigo Vasquez, the man who had been so ready to break Jack’s face for sleeping with Eva
was now so comfy in the arms of another man. They had all peaked out when they heard the
familiar tilt of Rigo’s voice, ready to usher him into the bathroom that no civilian was
allowed to use, their sanctuary from the needy people, only to see him pressed against the
wall and willingly remaining there.

It was mind-boggling to see him so submissive and pliant but at least they now had a face to
the man who granted them some luxury items in the firehouse.

“So Rigo is gay now?” Dean was hesitant in voicing his question and both women looked
just as confused.

“That really doesn’t seem like a new development.” Andrea contemplated and Vic nodded.

“Think it’s serious? I mean given the whole situation with Jack and Eva, I mean… can you
really blame the man?”

Andy frowned “It wasn’t Jack’s fault - okay I mean it was his fault the second time he should
have known better but -”

Dean and Vic both wore identical flat expressions and Andy gave up trying to defend her
once fiance, kinda friend now.

“Look, whatever is going on between Vasquez and his mystery man -”

“Harry!” Vic exclaimed suddenly in pure excitement “The mystery man’s name is Harry, I
know cause I squeezed it from Vasquez.”

Andy blinked “ Whatever is going on between Vasquez and his friend is none of our
business.” she stressed, eyeballing Vic until her friend stomped twice before relenting.

“Fiiine. Jeez.”

“Good now let’s all go back out before Sullivan finds us and drags us out by our ears.”

Rigo knew Sullivan would probably make him scrub the toilets and the rig for the next two
months with a toothbrush should he happen to come upstairs and catch them but shit, less
than twenty-four hours and he was already pent up.

Closing his eyes he tightened his grip in Harry’s hair prompting Harry to dig his blunt nails in
his ass and no doubt there would be bruises come morning but fuck if he cared, not about
Sullivan, not about the firehouse full of people nor the storm raging outside the building in
angry whips of wind, snow, and rain.

“Hgn! Mierda…” Rigo moaned softly, hyper-aware of just where they were and the
possibility of being caught by anyone who wandered up the stairs to gain access to the office.
Harry’s tongue circled the weeping tip of his cock, one hand sliding between Rigo’s legs to
give his balls a less than soft roll, just enough pressure, just enough to make him shudder.

“Ha-Harry fuck… Mhm gonna cum… I’m gonna cum.” he whimpered.

His toes curled in his boots, hips shoving without direction into the warmth the mobster
kneeling between his legs provided.

Rigo cried out, hips bucking up when Harry pressed a finger inside and he could be ashamed
later at how quick he was to cum from just a stupid fucking finger but for now… for now…

“Fuuuck.” collapsing bonelessly on Sullivan’s desk Rigo watched through blurred vision as
Harry gave his cock one last suckled, standing slowly with cum dribbling down his chin
before catching it with a quick swipe of his tongue.

“Good?” Harry’s green eyes were bright, a visible bulge in the dark slacks but the only
movement he made was to tuck Rigo back in, fixing him until he was once again decent, the
only evidence of their actions being the scent of sex and Rigo’s pants for breath.

“Muy jodidamente bueno… tan bueno.”

Harry chuckled and leaned over the limp fire officer to place a gentle but deep kiss to his lips,
Harry’s eyes widening in surprise when Rigo’s arms wrapped around his neck to draw him
closer.

It honestly was unfair.

Harry couldn’t remember ever being so swept away by someone, not even Ginny who was
beyond wonderful in every way. A wonderful wife, a wonderful sex partner, a wonderful
mother and friend, but this - this electrifying spark he felt whenever with Rigo was different.

A hand squeezed his cock through the material of the pants and Harry groaned into the kiss,
hand fisting Rigo’s slicked-back hair and with a growl, he bit the man’s lip.

“I’m barely holding myself back from bending you over the desk and fucking you darling.
Let us not poke the bear shall we.”

Logically Rigo knew he should be happy with a blowjob, not because Harry was ever stingy
with pleasuring him in fact it was annoying how much the idiot wanted to put his mouth on
him, in him, but because the likelihood of being caught increased with every tick of the
clock.

“What if I want you to.”

Harry’s green eyes darkened and Rigo squeezed the thick stiff rod again, stroking the covered
length making Harry give an aborted jerk of his hips.

“Want you to ruin me right here, fuck me so hard until I can’t see straight.” Rigo bit his kiss
swollen bottom lip, brown eyes peering up into dark green.
“Maybe I can jump to number one woman tonight.”

Harry snorted. Dragging a hand down his face he took the hand massaging his aching cock to
press a lingering kiss to the calloused palm then the back of his hand. Honestly, this crass,
abrasive man was adorable. A freaking rare gem covered in mud and grit but beautiful when
polished and taken care of.

Leaning closer again Harry smiled, thumb brushing against the stubbled jaw “Really now?”

“Mhmm.” Rigo hummed, suddenly sleepy and awfully cozy on the hard desk but his
attention was solely on Harry, the sounds of the outside muffled beyond the walls and now
completely omitted from his hearing.

“Gonna give me a baby are you?”

“Si. Maybe I’ll get fat like a cow and you’ll stop wanting to fuck me so much.” Rigo
grumbled and he absolutely did not pout.

The mobster laughed softly his face hiding in the sweat-damp neck cloaked with a subtle
cologne.

“Unlikely. I made a mess of Ginny when she was carrying. Got banned from my own
bedroom for four months.”

Rigo laughed along with him “You’re such a frea - uh I didn’t mean like that Harry.”

Shaking his head Harry pecked him once more “I know. It’s okay.”

Vasquez sighed slowly and yanked him down by the tie again for another kiss, soothing any
ruffled feathers that may have been caused by the slip of tongue.

Not much bothered Harry he realized in the time he knew the man, but for some reason being
called a freak would make his mood sour in an instant, made him volatile and cold, but
thankfully the kiss was reciprocated.

“After the shift, we can uh, do something if you want. Y’know, I wouldn’t entirely hate you
for a late-night dinner.”

Harry was so amused it hurt as much as his dick. Watching Rigo fumble was perhaps one of
his guilty pleasures since it rarely happened but when it did it was always a beautiful sight.

“Rigo it’s -”

“What the fuck!”

Both men jumped in alarm, Rigo flying from the desk and Harry standing straighter to stare
at the younger man by the door dressed in a winter coat, jeans, and sneakers. Latino mixed
with Caucasian and a healthy dose of wannabe street thug oozing from him.
“Can I help you?” Harry asked, moving two steps ahead and coincidentally in front of Rigo
to block the officer from the line of sight.

“I ain’t got no business with you faggot.” the man spat and Harry raised a brow.

“Do I know you?” Rigo asked. His shoulders were square and legs spread in preparation for a
fight, any of the softness he had shown before gone with the appearance of the runt before
them and now Harry was annoyed.

“You ain’t know me but I know you.” the cocky little shit took two steps forward and Harry
took another to block his path, eyes not moving from the younger man before him and not on
the two others who stepped inside the office with a click of the lock behind them.

“I said I ain’t got no business with you fruit so back up, what, you protecting your bitch?
That what you are now Vasquez? A white boy’s bitch? I dunno what Eva sees in a pussy like
you but damn she can choose ‘em”

“Wait, Eva? You’re here because of Eva?” Rigo asked in clear disbelief.

“She told me her husband was cheating but shit, never thought the big tough fireman would
be on his back kissing a man. No wonder she’s looks to get cock, yours must be full of shit.”

He made another move to step closer but Harry blocked his path again, not flinching when a
gun was suddenly whipped out with the barrel less than five inches away from his face.

“Hey! Hey! Come on man there’s no need for that, put the gun away.” Rigo raised his hands
before him, clearly panicked but Harry remained calm, a small smirk on his lips.

“Shut the fuck up Vasquez! I ain’t get to you yet, get but your little buddy here? I thought I
told you to back up huh fag? All that cock gone to your head freak?”

“Tony man… come on we ain’t come here for this shit, put the piece away, and let's go.” the
bigger of the two men tried but was quickly shot down by ‘Tony’.

“You can go fatass, I know why I’m here.”

“And why’s that Tony? Hm? To pretend you’re a big boy with a big gun?” Harry’s smirk
widened when the cool the Glock's barrel pressed to his forehead.

“Big words for someone with a gun to his head.” Tony hissed.

“Then let me enlighten you to even bigger words with bigger meanings. Obviously your tiny
brain and homophobic inclinations have no idea who I am but let me ask you something,
Tony. Do you know what will happen to your family, your friends, and their family if you
don’t leave here right now?”

Harry stepped closer to the younger man whose eyes widened at the brazen move, the Glock
pushed closer to his forehead.
“One phone call and they will all make national news. The headlines will read massacre in
big bold print because that is what it will be if you lay a hand on that man behind me, if you
so much as look in his direction with anything other than goodwill.”

“What the fuck are you -”

“I will lay the bodies of your mother, father, woman, side bitch, and even your fucking dog
out in the streets for the rats to shit on you little fuck. I will personally see to it that your two
friends families receive the same treatment. The children first, then the women and then the
men before I put you out of your misery.”

Tony blanched and Harry grinned, ignoring Rigo’s soft attempts to get him to stop.

“You’re messing with the wrong freak you infant. But if you want to test how big your balls
are go ahead. Pull the trigger, I fucking dare you. Pull the trigger and be a man, I can promise
you your families deaths won’t be painless, won’t be as quick as a bullet to the head.”

“Harry…” Rigo tried again.

“You know what a Colombian Necktie is kid? A Blood Eagle? Because if you don’t take the
fucking gun away from my head in the next ten seconds I’ll personally give you and your
friends a taste.”

“Harry come on, that’s enough.”

“No, no. The freak is giving this little wannabe gangster some vital information as to why
guppies shouldn’t fuck around with sharks yea? Why the kids should stay sucking at their
mother’s tits and not get between adult conversations.”

Tony’s eyes shifted between Harry and Rigo, breaths coming out in heavy pants and now
Rigo could look past the gun the kid couldn’t be any more than 19, the other two behind him
pale and no older.

“Harry that’s enough!” Rigo grabbed Harry by the arm and surprisingly the other man
complied, Tony shaking where he stood, eyes darting to Rigo once more, jaw ticking and
Harry started up again.

“Was Eva’s pussy that good you’re gonna shoot two people over? Billions of people on the
planet and you choose a loose whore.” Harry snorted, brushing Rigo’s arm off and like a ship
catching a wind Tony puffed up again.

“Take that to fuck back!”

“What? You didn’t know? Eva’s nothing but a good for nothing whore. What -” Harry
paused, head tilting as he took in the righteous anger on the kid’s face.

“Don’t… don’t tell me you’re in love with her.” Tony’s grip on the gun tightened and Harry
barked out a laugh.
It was not hard to see what Harry was doing. Partly because of the freak comment but the
taunting, the continuous diversion of Tony’s attention to him and away from Rigo - the man
was protecting him.

He was going to kick his ass later.

Tony’s friends had one foot in the door and the next out, they were not going to be trouble but
Tony; the kid no doubt saw red with each word and insult Harry hurled in his direction and
the last thing Rigo wanted was for the man to make do on his promise.

A part of him knew what the connotations of being ‘mafia’ meant but Harry contrasted so
harshly with the word he sometimes forgot until he was reminded. Harry was gentle and
sweet, a pervert, and a giver in and out of bed. He was annoying but endearing, dorky but
serious, intelligent but awfully foolish at times.

All contradictions but none of them screamed killer. But there were always two sides to
people and Rigo should know.

Before Harry, he had never entertained the idea of sleeping with another man, had found the
idea disgusting and below him but between one moment and the next in a bar where they met
he found himself drawn to the sharply dressed man who checked him out without
reservation.

Harry had swept him back up a year later, made him soft and pliant when they were alone as
opposed to his prickly self. He made Rigo want him more than he desired to go home to a
cold bed and a lying wife, made Rigo yearn .

His radio was on the desk, taken off to avoid it being scratched and while he did not want to
involve his teammates in a situation involving his secret love life and a loaded gun the
numbers would be enough to pressure Tony to drop it, maybe if they were lucky a police
cruiser would be available.

Inching backward towards the desk Rigo froze when the gun turned to him, the trigger finger
stupidly close to the spark.

“Don’t fucking move!”

“Kid just relax just -”

“Stop telling me what the fuck to do! Just shut up! Shut the fuck up! I don’t wanna heart
anythin’ from a bitch like you Vasquez! Eva should -”

Harry stepped in Tony’s space and knocked the hand aside, his finger squeezing down on the
trigger and an explosion of sound went off with a bullet burying into the wall, Tony
struggling to get the upper hand on Harry while his two friends fled.

There were screams outside, people panicking at the sound of a gunshot within the building
but all Rigo could focus on was Harry and Tony.
Tony was younger but Harry had experience and muscle on him, a head butt to the kid’s nose
broke it with a spurt of blood but his hand remained tight around the weapon.

Three more gunshots and Rigo ducked low cursing as his ears rung, and then the sound of a
body hitting the floor before it was silent.

Between one heartbeat and the next Rigo stared at Tony whose face paled, handshaking, and
the gun clattered to the ground before he gave a frightened wail and ran from the room.

Five heartbeats after the gunshots Rigo looked to his right where Harry laid with his chest
heaving aborted intakes of breaths, the inhales wet and wheezing.

“Harry?” Rigo climbed to his feet all of a sudden numb as he unbuttoned the waistcoat to
find a thin bulletproof vest stitched within the material of the coat with two holes penetrating
the plating. Ripping it off and then the shirt underneath he could vaguely hear someone
calling for him over the radio, the panicked voice sounded like Sullivan but the loudest
sounds he could hear right now were his own heartbeat.

There were two holes in him. One in his shoulder and the next his lower abdomen, the
implications of the amount of damage done on the inside made Rigo’s head spin.

“Ri… Ri… go.” Harry gasped, fingers digging into the carpet under him.

Snapping back to the present he shook himself from the stupor, he could go into shock later
but right now, right now “Fuck!”

Scrambling for the radio he answered Sullivan who was now cursing at him, the normally
unflappable man’s worry for those under his command was commendable but Rigo didn’t
need Sullivan right now he needed a medic.

“Warren!”

The radio crackled and Rigo apologized softly in Spanish as he used his jacket to press down
on the stomach wound that bled too heavily for his liking. The bulletproof jacket had slowed
it down some and probably mitigated the damage.

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry - Warren!”

“Vasquez I’m here, where are you! We are -”

“Sullivan’s office bring your - Harry hey hey hey, look at me, breathe keep breathing for me
okay?”

Rigo dropped the radio and kept the pressure, apologising when Harry whimpered in pain
between struggles for breath, blood welling pass his lips to dribble down the sides of his
mouth.

“Warren!”

“We’re coming, Vasquez!”

 “Shh, shh, just keep looking at me yea? Just aliento para mi.” he pet the dark hair as Warren
and half the team burst into the room, Warren taking control and Rigo ignored how his heart
tightened upon hearing the normally jovial man curse lowly.

No one made comment on kneeling in the pool of blood, the red so fresh it soaked into their
clothes in an instant or how it was worrying how much blood was outside of Harry’s body.

“Solo respira por mi Harry.” he whispered as he cradled Harry’s head with one hand bloody
and the next clammy.

“No te rindas, no te atrevas a rendirte…”

Chapter End Notes

Any butchering of the Spanish language I sincerely apologise for, I just used google
translate.

I honestly love Rigo and am still upset for how they killed him off sigh.

Hope everyone is staying safe in the madness that is 2020!

 Harry/Dean Winchester
Chapter Summary

His future is changed all because of a simple question. (Harry/Dean Winchester -

Supernatural s3 ep16.)

Chapter Notes
See the end of the chapter for notes

Harriel had first wandered over to the Racks after hearing a new voice or perhaps it was the
pitch which had called to him because there were hundreds of new souls added to the racks
each day, and one measely human should not interest him so much, but yet this one did.

Drifting over to the human, a man in his early thirties with his features etched in
undescribable pain from the hooks and chains impaling his chest, shoulder, stomach, legs and
arms; his mouth a bloody mess and green eyes - or were they hazel?

Harriel drifted closer, claw tipped hand grasping the man’s face to peer into the glassy eyes
closer until their noses nearly touched. Even in the dim and frankly awful lighting in Hell
Harriel could see the human’s eyes were a mixture of hazel and green and a beautiful shade
as well no doubt when not hazed by pain and desperation.

His black wings beat once slightly to keep him steady in the air, thumb brushing over the
cheekbone of the human then over his bloodied bottom lip, the skin slick with red but still
soft under the touch, plump.

“SAM! SAMMY!”

The demon raised one dark brow at the sudden verbal vomit of the singular name, grasping
the hook impaling the human he yanked him closer drawing a soul deep scream of agony
from him, the name leaving his lips coming to a whimpering halt, the sound going straight to
Harriel’s crotch. Looking down at his pelvic he hummed in appreciation. Erections and
pleasure were not something he indulged in often, demons too malicious and humans too
disgusting, but this man, this human male made him react.

Squeezing the pale neck, throat undulating under his palm and despite the pain there was a
certain clarity in the hazel-green and Harriel leaned closer once more, nose brushing over the
tortured soul’s own.

“Do you want to get off of the rack?”

“He won’t say yes.” Harriel did not need to turn to know it was Alastair, the stench from the
demon was enough.
“And why is that.” carressing the soft cheek then the stubbled jawline before drifting to the
red lips again he waited for Alastair to answer, the other demon coming closer warily after
having been on the end of Harriel’s ‘punishments’ before.

“The human you’re so interested in is Dean Winchester, one of the humans who fight to keep
Lucifer in the cage. He’s strong willed and resistant to bribes. I have asked him three times so
far and each I have been refused. He won’t agree to be released from the racks, you have my
word.”

Harriel was silent for a long time, wings folding around the human once more to stay afloat
and he could feel the triumpant glee from Alastair because no demon wanted to relinquish
what they considered to be a well won prize and obviously as he was now informed this
human male, Dean Winchester was a very big prize indeed.

He had been one of the first to fall after Lucifer had defied their father’s wishes and will, had
gladly plunged himself from the heavens and down below not because of some silly dispute
of father and son bonding - or the lack thereof.

No, he felt suffocated in heaven. Like a hamster running on a wheel day in and out until he
could not be the perfect drone angels were designed to be. He disliked humans, would even
go as far to say that he hated them because of the freedom God bestowed upon them.

For centuries he had watched them laugh and cry, enjoy levels of happiness and plunging
moments of despair, they knew what pleasure was and met death as an old friend or fought it
like a worst of enemies. Humans had lived , they felt and Harriel felt cheated.

So he followed Lucifer, not because he wanted God’s love and pride but because he was sick
of God and his biased ways.

This Dean Winchester was the first human in a very long time who had interested him, who
made him want something beyond solitude. Lucifer might have been one of the first angels
and the dubbed leader of Hell and all that resided within but Harriel knew as well as the
caged angel turned demon that he was no one’s subordinate.

Dean whimpered in pain and Harriel brushed his nose against the pale sweaty one of the
humans savior, hand flexing around his neck to bring the clarity back again where it had been
consumed by torment. Alastair’s word meant less to him than the shit of a hellhound and at
least the demonic dogs feces could be used in certain potions when cured and dried.

“Dean Winchester.” he rumbled and Dean’s hazel-green eyes flickered to Harriel’s own
vibrant green, the human’s pupils dilating twice.

“Do you wish to be free of this place?” he asked once more and behind him Alastair snorted
in derision.

Dean swallowed as his eyes drifted to the massive wings on either side of Harriel, the black
feathers darker than the surrounding area and only the constant flashing of lightning made
them visible. His gaze settled on Harriel once more, expression one of desperation and like a
starving man being given food he whimpered
“Yes.”

The word was followed by a wet cough and Harriel tasted salt on his tongue as he licked
away the tears ignoring the indignation which radiated from the demon behind him.
Wrapping a hand around the first chain that impaled the human he squeezed it until it broke
away, disintegrating like ash and Alastair screeched in anger but had yet to dare come closer.

The chains and hooks were all Alastair’s essence, fortified by his blessing from Lucifer to
create the space of torture and to Harriel the Racks were childish not in creativity but in the
power behind the equipment. He barely had to concentrate as he broke each device stuck
within his human.

Yes, his human sounded perfect.

“Stop it! You can’t take him! He’s mine I earned him! HE’S MINE!” the thunder and
lightning rolled and clashed louder by the minute as Alastair screamed, the torture space
reacting to his energy and emotions and Harriel felt rather than saw as several dozen hooks
and chains rushed from the depths and towards him all with the intention of perforating him.

Dissolving the final hook, the one buried in Dean’s side, the wet slide of blood and the groan
of pain from the unconscious human who Harriel failed to notice had passed out from the
pain.

Turning to stare at Alastair Harriel sighed softly, annoyance clear upon his features, the
chains and hooks freezing five feet away from him as if an invisible barrier halted them.

Cradling Dean in his arms Harriel tucked the human’s head to his chest synchronously as
Alastair choked. In less than a second Harriel’s hand was pressed to the demon’s face,
squeezing it until the torturer struggled with no avail, black blood leaking from his ears, nose
and eyes from the pressure of the grip.

“You forget your place.” he murmured, contemplation colouring his tone unhindered by the
male cradled in one arm.

“I shall remind you.” Alastair screamed as white light glowed from Harriel’s palm, his face
slowly peeling from the heat of an angel’s smite and only when the demon’s face was more
blood meat and bone than actual features did he let go, Alastair groans of agony joining those
of the humans still attached to the racks.

Harriel’s wings beat twice “The next time you believe you are worthy, I will send you to The
Empty.”

Alastair flinched at the casual name drop of the place where Demons and Angels went after
they died an eternity of nothingness.

“Let it be known now that Dean Winchester is mines. Anyone who dares to set their sights on
him, to lay a hand on him will be smited and welcomed into The Empty.” his voice resonated
loudly and he knew the demons watching from the outskirts of Alastair’s domain would
spread the word.
.

Dean learned quickly that his pleasure and rewards were based on how well he pleased
Harriel.

It did not always have to be a sexual favor but his demeanor, attitude, how quickly he would
fulfill a request, how well he did a task. Small things that made the angel turned demon lip
twitch in a smile-not-smile.

After the Rack being under Harriel’s thumb seemed like heaven. It took him a long time to
adjust to his new way of life, to being someone’s possession and even now the word made
him frown but he understood the importance of his presence in Hell with Harriel.

Dean made a deal as he always did. He would not rebel, he would not fight but accept every
and anything Harriel gave him if the angel who resided in Hell would swear to protect his
Sammy, Bobby and several others who were precious to him. A request he believed would be
ignored but to his surprise it was honored and Dean after resisting and fighting the other’s
advances could finally relax and just let himself be.

Turning to stare at the sleeping angel, the massive dark wings tucked from sight and the
normally impassive face smoothed out into youthfulness, long dark lashes brushing his
cheek. According to a demon when asked he was now in Hell for 200 years, conversion rate
of one year and eight months in the human world.

Rising from the soft mattress he crawled across the bed to straddle Harriel upside so his face
was less than an inch away from the limp cock, a cock he had choked on, swallowed and let
fill him countless times now.

Dean knew his place and accepted it better than he thought he would have had it been any
other creature. He was Harriel’s bitch or perhaps his kept woman and he would gladly be his
whore and more if it kept Sam safe.

Snorting Dean nosed the flaccid cock, the angel’s dick though limp was still a far bigger than
any he had seen, even his own.

Licking the softness Dean gathered it within his mouth, gentle sucks upon the head where his
tongue dipped into the foreskin to savour the spurt of thick precum, the taste as salty as a
human’s but with an underlying flavor that made it all the more enjoyable.

Giving a hum of affection Dean let the length fill out while inside his mouth, the cock
doubling in length and girth until his eyes rolled back slightly due to it being snug in his
throat, the skin of his windpipe distended and only when Harriel rubbed three fingers over his
still loose and sloppy hole did Dean allow the fat cock to slip from his esophagus with a wet
squelch.

Nosing the saliva wet cock he licked a long line from base to head, pucker parting easily for
the three digits, tongue lapping at the wide and darkening tip. He should be content after
having been fucked into unconsciousness last night and only a short hour ago did Harriel’s
cock slip from within him, the rush of cum he expected never coming beyond a trickle.

“Your cum is still in me.” he murmured to the other before swallowing the angel down again,
Dean’s cock hard against his belly when Harriel sat up suddenly to grip his hair forcing him
to keep the engorged cock buried in his throat.

Dean choked around the demon’s length when he jerked in surprise from a warm wet tongue
against his hole, the sensitive crease opening more to welcome it in and honestly he might die
because between his throat stuffed and inability to moan without choking there was not many
options to choose from.

Harriel pulled him up and off the twitching cock, Dean bouncing on the bed and with hurried
practiced motions he spread his legs and held each thigh open to display his ready hole, the
pucker twitching almost in a greedy motion only amplified by his words to the winged
creature.

“Hurry up… I want it, please.”

From a human point of view Harriel was marvelous, body reminsicient of a greek statue and
cock one of envy that Dean knew many pornstars would kill to have.

Breath hitching in anticipation as the angel came closer, long fingers wrapping around his
ankles to bend him in near half, the familiar position of a mating press making him whine.

“I have been a bad influence upon you.” Harriel mumured, green eyes taking in the eager
human spread wide before him, Dean’s flushed face and still kiss swollen lips making him
press the tip of his cock to the loose rim of muscle and with one smooth thrust he was buried
within his human.

Dean groaned his thanks, walls fluttering around Harriel’s cock and gripping it with a
ferocity the human should not have after last night.

“Fuck me, please fuck me Harry.” he moaned, the human nickname falling from his lips.

Already Harriel could see just how close Dean was to orgasming and he squeezed the man’s
member until the moan of pleasure morphed into a moan of pain, his walls clenching even
tighter around the cock that was sheathed in it.

Harriel changed positions so Dean was ontop, the man shuddering at how deep he was
penetrated before the former human savior pressed both hands to the angel’s chest, and rose
up until the bulbous head only remained inside.

The squeal of euphoria filled Harriel’s domain and he watched with a heavy gaze as Dean
fucked himself on his cock, the human bouncing on the considerable length with more gusto
and glee Harriel found it hard to believe that a short seven months ago the man had snarled at
him like a caged animal should he try to touch him. The fight never deterred him before and
he found the previous sex to have been a battle of wills with Dean eventually submitting.
This Dean however was like a beast in heat, the smaller human cock bouncing in tune with
his rear and Harriel’s eyes were drawn to the long line of precum clinging to the tip where it
dribbled onto his belly.

“Thank-you! Mhmm-ah! Fu-fuck yes! Tha-ah~!”

Harriel grunted as Dean turned around without dislodging the hard length and the obscene
sight of the pink hole spread wide around the angel’s cock made him shiver, his hands
reaching out to grasp the thick globes of Dean’s ass.

Sliding his hold to the tapered waist he brought the man down onto the pulsing cock harder
than necessary and Dean’s scream of elation was enough for the action to be continued
because with ever stilted grunt and groan Dean was brought closer to the edge, an edge he
would not get until Harriel said so.

“Pl-please… ‘anna cum… ‘Arry I ‘anna cum pul’ease…”

Harriel took his pleasure, eyes chasing a bead of sweat that slid down Dean’s back to the
taunt crack where Harry’s slicked cock perverted the human’s hole again and again, the
thickness pushing the rim to the limit. Dean shuddered and his cries for release amplified
with his desperation.

“Please! Fuck please! I-It’s ‘onna come out! ‘Dun ‘ant it to yet ‘Arry… pl-please let me -”

He shuddered again when Harriel stilled, the meaty shaft pressing without cease against his
prostate.

Sitting up Harriel licked the beads of sweat gathered along the muscular back before he sank
his teeth into the back of his human’s neck. Dean came with a near silent cry, back arching
until he nearly slipped off of the angel’s cock and only Harriel’s tight grip of his hips kept
him seated as he followed after Dean and let his own orgasm wash over him.

Holding the man close Harriel licked the wound until the blood came to a stop and his cock
softened, Dean’s muscled abdomen sporting a small mound in his lower belly of what he
assumed to be the accumulated cum. Rubbing a gentle hand over the mound Dean grumbled
softly, his calloused palm covering Hariel’s and sleepy eyes peered back to him.

“It’s a cum baby.” he slurred and a filthy grin later Hariel blinked at the obscene joke,
releasing a sigh.

“Is that so.” the angel murmured as he continued to caress the raise of tanned skin “Let us
keep it that way yes?”

“Hmm - ah!” Dean yelped when cool metal pressed to his leaking hole and the wide tip of a
buttplug eased inside securely trapping the loads of cum within him. Hole clenching and
unclenching around the new intrusion he relaxed against the hard plains of Harriel’s chest,
fingers playing with the demon’s until his hand was kissed.
 He missed Sam, would forever miss his little brother and Bobby and everyone else who made
an impact on his life so far but this life, down in Hell where it was less fire and brimstone but
whatever surroundings Harriel conjured up. No one messed with him and Alastair avoided
him as if he carried the holiest of bibles.

He ate the best food, the most delicious pies and burgers known in the universe and had sex
whenever he fancied. He was taken out to the human world every now and then, places he
would have never ventured to simply because he refused to go into a flying death trap.

Paris, Eygpt, Fiji.

Places he would have loved to share with Sam but couldn’t.

It was the price to pay for keeping his important people save, to have them remain protected
by the most powerful demon in Hell either second to or equal to Lucifer.

He would watch them grow old and hopefully his bother would grow a pair and settle down,
he always wanted to be an uncle afterall and with no more end of the world there would be
nothing stopping Sam from having the mundane life he had always craved. Be a bigshot
lawyer, marry a pretty and sweet dame, have a gaggle of kids.

Looking down at the cum baby he was sporting Dean stretched his legs and turned in
Harriel’s grasp, a dark brow raising when Dean kissed him lazily.

“You are sad. Why.” the demon questioned and Dean shook his head, directing Harriel’s
attention to his nipples. The angel had a fascination with them and just as he planned the
distraction worked, a warm wet tongue and mouth enveloping the perked and sensitive bud.

Moaning the oldest Winchester let him be laid down onto the mattress, fingers brushing over
the well groomed and thick obsidian feathers that came into existence once more.

“Harry?”

“Hm.”

Dean tapped the broad pale shoulder until the creature paid him attention and not the sore bud
“Again.”

Harriel stared for all of ten seconds no doubt analyzing him because for all he was a powerful
being human emotions were still a learning curve he sometimes stumbled on.

The plug was removed and Dean arched off the bed with a whimper as he was filled to the
brim once more, nerve endings frayed but his body was needy, a wanton urge to have Harriel
again and again overriding any form of discomfort. Harriel moved and Dean let himself float
away in a litany of praise and a never ending euphoria.

Chapter End Notes

I don't think I've said lately how much I appreciate the comments you guys give,
comments are like my fuel. I read all of them but reply to most of them in my head, but I
sincerely value them all. The suggestions for pairings I've also started to look at but
pairings are one thing, where are the prompts you'd like to see for said pairings!

I am also posting the continuation of Harry/Rigo separately into its own little mini
series, more length has been added on existing chapters and a new chapter is already
written, so look out for that some time this week.

Also a shoutout to ElvinaPotter who unknowingly gases me up *hides face*

 Harry/Homelander pt2
Chapter Summary

Part of two of the Harry/Homelander story.

There were not many things Harry liked, even less were things he took pleasure in
witnessing, but the sight of Homelander flushed and glowing with a faint sheen of sweat, his
tan skin beautiful and lips kiss swollen was perhaps his favourite.

It was a sight he would never grow tired of even though he had seen the man in such a
position nearly a hundred times, scene burned into his retina and forever programmed into his
brain.

Homelander kept his thighs spread wide regardless of the burn that must be coursing through
the powerful legs, one hand clutching Harry’s sweater but not tight enough to tear the thin
material, his next hand twisted in the bed sheets.

“Mhm! Augh…! P-please Haa… Harry !”

Harry hummed, fingers lazily rolling over the enlarged prostate he had been toying with
hours now. Today was going to be a laid back day, this was decided when Homelander
showed up to his apartment in the dead of night not begging to be fucked but instead silently
asking to be held.

Harry did not know what inspired his sudden need for affection when the man had left half a
day prior to returning, but he would never deny the Supe anything, not as long as it was
within his power to provide.

John whined, chest pushing against Harry’s fingers as they brushed over the puffy nipples,
the nubs wet with sweat and saliva where Harry had spent as much time suckling on them
until they were sore peaks, Homelander’s hole soft and wet around the four digits making a
mess of him.

The supe was barely conscious, pupils blown wide until a thin ring of blue remained and his
stare was far away. It was to be expected he supposed, after driving orgasm after orgasm from
the man, his healing and durability cut off due to Harry’s nullification.

“John, darling.” he murmured, fingers splaying inside the wet heat and John twitched at the
sound of his name.

“You look so beautiful, do you know that?”

All muscle and sun kissed skin, nipples puffy and cock hard though it had run dry of cum two
hours ago, the mess licked away by Harry who basked in the shivers he could draw from the
powerful supe.

Homelander squirmed at the compliment and Harry kneaded the pec, squeezing and
massaging the man’s chest with only light brushes over the sore nipples.

“Th… thank you.” came the slurred mumbled and Harry smiled brightly down at the blond.

There was a shrill cry from somewhere in the room and Harry blinked forgetting where he
was, or more specifically where he had taken Homelander.

Madelyn Stillwell sat frozen across the room where Harry and John occupied her bed, John’s
superhero costume thrown to the side and Harry’s dirty boots muddying the white comforter
of the king sized bed.

As with everything related to John, he had gotten caught up in ruining the man, what had
been at first a simple display to show Madelyn her favourite and most feared Supe was no
longer under her or Vought’s thumb turned into hours long teasing and coaxing the man into
cumming. Harry encouraging him to give more of what he did not have and still some.

And now, his eyes turned towards the adjacent room where the shrill crying of a baby came
from.

“Forgive me Ms. Stillwell. I forgot you were here.”

Madelyn swallowed heavily and Harry smiled at her, green eyes drifting down her slim
frame, blond hair in disarray and only half of her pants suit on, of course Harry had
apologised for entering the home unannounced and coincidentally interrupting her getting
dressed.

“Is it a boy or girl.”

“P-pardon?”

The question seemed to startle her and Madelyn’s eyes shifted from him to the baby room
and back as if gauging the distance, Harry rolling his eyes, momentarily ceasing the
movements of his fingers until Homelander whined and grinded down on them.

“Impatient.” he tsked, John just panted, soft sounds of ecstasy escaping but not stopping the
movement of his hips.

“Your baby. Is it a boy or girl.” he repeated.

Maybe it was his calm demenor with no signs of hostility that had her on edge. Humans
worshipped Supes until they feared them and he believed without a doubt that Homelander
was both revered and feared, the latter in much larger amounts by those who created him and
knew him personally.
No matter how much Madelyn buttered up the Supe she was still frightened by his strength,
invulnerbility and lack of empathy, the little affection he garnered from her during their
‘private time’ could never hold a candle to what Harry had done and currently still did to
Homelander.

Harry had nothing to fear, thus he could freely love the man. He had nothing to lose and so
Homelander was free to be himself.

Madelyn Stillwell had everything to lose if she lost favor with Homelander. Her job and most
importantly her life.

As the Senior Vice President of Hero Management it was her job to keep the heroes in line
for the perfect photo op, to make sure the humans trusted the Supes with their lives and the
world did not see them as the threat they really were.

Harry would admit, from what he had seen, read, and observed, Madelyn did her job well.
Efficiently without a hitch and removed any obstacles that would ruin the perfect image she
had crafted of The Seven.

Homelander was her prized bull, the one who relied on her for the comfort and affection he
craved, who listened and kept the others in line. She was his life line and sole confidant, she
had been the one to hold the golden leash to the most powerful and volatile superhero
created.

Until she lost hold of that leash and Harry picked it up.

“I really do dislike repeating myself Ms. Stillwell.”

She flinched, hands gripping the arm rests of the small couch “A boy… my baby is a boy.”

Harry smiled again, hand gently brushing through Homelander’s sweaty hair and with a hard
press of fingers the man cried out, hips shaking as he shuddered, a dry orgasm taking control
of his body before his cock jerked and clear fluid shot out.

John twisted his body to bury his face in Harry’s stomach as sobs wracked his frame and
Harry rubbed his back, not shushing him as he cried from overstimulation because he would
never deny John the ability to let go of whatever emotion he felt, not when it had been
verbally beaten into him to never show anything but a bright smile.

Madelyn stared at Homelander as if she saw a ghost or perhaps an alien, the man curled up in
Harry’s embrace was foreign to her. His naked body slick with sweat and remenants of cum
Harry had not licked, face heated from pleasure and nose red from the tears. This
Homelander was the product of Harry’s touch and careful teaching, a product of
monopolization and genuine affection.

“Are you okay now?” he asked the blond when the tears ceased and the trembling of his body
followed until John breathed slow and deep but still awake.
Bleary blue eyes peaked up at him and Homelander gave Harry a small smile, hand still
clutching the thin dark green sweater, looking for all the world vulnerable and not like the
psychopath he was capable of being.

“Stay. I will be right back.” Harry pressed a kiss to John’s forehead, the man’s grip on his
sweater loosening and Harry ignored the shout from Madelyn when he wandered into the
nursery.

“Please don’t hurt him! Don’t hurt my baby!”

Blinking down at the tiny screaming human, the chubby limbs flailing as fat tears rolled
down it cheeks. He had never had a chance to interact with babies before, but there was a
certain genetic imperative he often felt while watching humans with children, an ache to
have.

Picking the boy up carefully Harry bounced the baby, hand gently patting his back even as
drool and tears wet his shoulder.

“There there little one. Harry won’t hurt you, you’re safe with me, just ask mummy.”

Madelyn reached out for the baby, not daring to move from the chair, Harry ignoring the
outstretched hands to sit on the bed once more as little Teddy , the name stitched on his
onesie settled down to soft hiccups. Homelander stared at the baby, a look of scorn filtering
across his features and Harry tutted, fingers dragging through the blond locks to grip the back
of his head.

“Come now darling, unlike Ms. Stillwell young Teddy here has done nothing to garner your
hate.”

Homelander held his tongue, not willing to say that the baby had stolen his milk during his
time at Madelyn’s breasts when he believed she would be the one to provide him with the
security he lacked as a child. A mother figure to hold him and tell him it was okay to be as
fucked up as he was.

The hold on his hair was borderline painful, Homelander going limp with an apology on his
lips.

The grip loosened and Harry leaned down, Homelander accepting the kiss, relishing in the
dominance of the tongue that intertwined with his own.

He was getting hard again, cock twitching where it rested against his sore thigh, the muscles
burning from the long hours he kept them raised and spread in the air.

“On your back for me love.”

He complied instantly his hole twitching in anticipation for what was to come, Harry’s cock a
hard presence at his back during the time he wrung orgasm after orgasm from Homelander’s
body. He could practically feel the thick length in him, fucking him, ruining him like he
always did -
“Fuck!”

He went so still he might as well have been petrified, blue eyes wide with surprise and
apprehension as Harry placed the baby on his chest, the toothless mouth latching onto the
nearest nipple and with more suction he believed a human so small to have it suckled on his
chest.

“T-take it off! Harry take it off!” anxiousness filled his chest as blood filled his cock, the limp
member swelling to fullness again as the baby kneaded his chest, frustrated by the lack of
milk.

“Look at him go John! He’s really trying to milk you.” Harry’s open amusement at
Homelander’s clear shock made him all the more anxious, hands hovering over the tiny
human leech that pressed against his chest, gums and tongue worrying the already sore
nipple.

John flushed as Harry chuckled, a whimper bubbling forth and he may have went slightly
cross eyed when Harry tweaked the other sore bud, rolling the nipple between two fingers as
the baby continued his attempt at nursing.

“He won’t get any, Harry take him off, it feels weird - it’s… it’s -”

It was too much and too little all at once.

Teddy suckled harder, tiny hands kneading the soft skin of what he recognized to be the thing
that fed him, Homelander hissing at the stimulation.

Harry smiled down at the Supe, licking a wet line from his lips down to the neglected nipple
before he took it into his mouth as well, the leader of The Seven crying out at the dual
sensation.

“You look lovely like this John.” Harry hummed, teeth biting down on the aleady abused nub
hard enough to make John clutch the sheets once more, legs spreading in response to the
pleasure mixed with pain Harry brought forth.

Homelander gasped as the baby continued to suckle, the little boy aggressive though he was
so small and he knew Harry well enough to know the man was scheming under the neutral
stare he laid upon his body. Leaning into the hand petting his hair, the limb warm and large, a
source of comfort he could melt away into even with an annoying attachment on his chest
tried to get the impossible.

“Cradle him John.”

Homelander could feel Madelyn’s heavy gaze on him as he sat up, the baby in the crook of
his arm and still going strong with a determination he did not know a spawn so young could
possess. He had seen her hold the boy like this multiple time, a support of his head and back
that somehow was firm enough to keep him from rolling out of the grip.
Harry smiled wide looking for all the world normal and sincere. His hands squeezing
Homelander’s shoulders though his attention was now on the lone woman in the room.

“Do you know who I am Ms. Stillwell?”

Madelyn shook her head and Harry just gave an understanding nod.

“I know who you are however. What you do at Vought, who your employers are, what secrets
you hold and how many skeletons you’ve buried - quite literally.”

His smile twitched “I know many a great things about you Ms. Stillwell. So many, many
things.”

Harry moved from the bed after pressing a kiss to Homelander’s head, fingers brushing the
baby soft hair of Teddy, green eyes pinning Madelyn to the chair with slow measured steps.
Each step seemed to drag a sob from the woman her eyes shifting between the approaching
man and the baby in Homelander’s arms still attempting to nurse.

“W-What do you want? Do you want money? I can get you money, just tell me how much
and Vought will be happy to pay it just please, please don’t hurt my baby.” she pleaded.

Had Harry not known how many people the woman had condemned, how many Supes had
died because they refused to comply to orders from faceless men and women; all murdered at
her order to maintain the peace and lies then he might have felt sorry for her.

The Experiments.

“You are perhaps very confused as to who I am and why I am here ruining your idealistic
playtime of ‘mummy dearest’ with your son.”

“I just wa -” Madelyn’s voice trembled with barely supressed fear, the woman leaning back
into the chair when Harry stopped less than a foot away from her.

“You do not speak Ms. Stillwell.” he tutted gently.

Standing behind the chair he lightly took her shoulders in hand to massage the stiff neck and
taunt arms, Homelander’s disgust at having a human baby in his arms and panic of having the
boy still suckle at is chest morphed into anger at the touch of familiar intimacy he showed the
woman.

Harry smiled at the Supe “It’s alright darling, focus on young Teddy for now.”

Homelander’s eyes took on a faint red hue, Madelyn flinching backwards recognising the
sign of laser eyes.

“John.” he softly reprimanded, amusement fading and the laser died down just before
Homelander ducked his head, a mumbled apology leaving him.

“Back to the matter at hand. What I want from you and Vought by extension is a simple
matter of transaction, however, while it may be simple I have no doubt in mind you all will
make it incredibly difficult.”

Madelyn gasped in pain when the hands tightened around her shoulders, the bones creaking
as pressure was applied to them but she was unable to move, both by fear weighing her down
and the iron grip of the man behind her.

“I would like John to be free, and yes before you say anything I know that will impossible
because he is your greatest toy, the one success story Vought has in terms of perfection, and
because of that you will never let him go correct?”

It was not a question because they both knew the answer. Vought would rather send out every
hero under it’s belt to be slaughtered than to lose Homelander who was worth more than they
all did combined. Madelyn swallowed heavily, her teary blue eyes staring into the green of
the man who tamed Homelander as he crouched before her.

British, tall and no doubt a powerful Supe as well. She had learned over the years to pinpoint
the strong ones. The not-humans who were incredibly strong and stood out from the rest of
the mundane flock. People like the man currently smiling at her, a bland curve of the lips
with utter disgust shining in his eyes. The strong ones were often calm, too calm, either
always smiled or were completely indifferent.

They never tried to fit in but left everyone else to conform to their sphere without words.

Homelander was not someone they could control because he knew his value, knew his
limitless limitations and his uniqueness. She had been close, offering him a lap to lie on and
then a breast to nurse from as an imitation of a mother he never had and the warmth he was
never given but Madelyn for each time she was alone with the Supe felt as though her heart
would burst from anxiety.

Homelander was too powerful and so they created someone who could take him out if
needed.

“Ms. Stillwell.”

She snapped from her thoughts, focus once more on the man.

“I am simply here to make a formal declaration that my John will not be returning to Vought
or any duties you may have for him.”

My John.

Her eyes widened and Harry’s smile stretched further.

“I have no reservations about killing other Supes, I most definitely have no problem
decimating a city if the need arises. Vought will send out it’s strongest in hopes of supressing
me, and should they fail they will attempt to kill me. I will retaliate and leave this city
without a single hero alive and I shall start with Black Noir.”

“H-how did -” her jaw snapped shut when the corners of his lips pulled down into a frown.
No talking.

“You are simply the messager Ms. Stillwell, but make no mistake, the moment your
usefulness is over I will be coming for you as well and I will take great pleasure in sorching
you alive.”

Madelyn could do nothing but stare at the the suddenly luminous green eyes as electricity
crackled around the man, her lungs growing tight.

“Every stain to have blemished him will be removed. Do not give me a reason to kill young
Teddy as well Ms. Stillwell.”

He looked back at the two blonds on the bed, John’s face still twisted in mild disgust but his
arms rocked the back slowly, a toothless mouth wrapped firmly around the man's nipple still.
Sensing eyes on him Homelander looked up and his expression softened in the face of
Harry’s smile, a light flush appearing on his cheeks.

“You and everyone at Vought broke him. Crumbled whatever innocence he held and turned it
putrid. My John is so beautiful on the inside, like a bright star, but by allowing Vought to
exist he can never shine, can never shed the cloak that is Homelander and embrace John fully,
and for that alone I deem it unforgiveable.”

“Everything you represent, everything that is Vought, I will destroy just to protect him and
that Ms. Stillwell is the message you shall in turn give your supreriors. I know I can trust you
with this task, otherwise I will ensure I string young Teddy up where you can plainly see.”

Madelyn shook her head, pleads on the tip of her tongue but his warning from before fresh in
her mind.

“I get no pleasure from killing children, especially those as young as he is, but test my
patience and I will not hesitate.”

Harry turned and clapped his hands, the blond man now pouting down at the small human, a
small glare still on his features but he looked more anxious than angry.

“John my love, redress, it's time to go.” Harry took Teddy from his arms, the little boy having
fallen asleep despite receiving no nourishment and Harry envied him slightly as he packed
the baby bag with clothes and the other necessary items.

Unopened baby formula and three bottles were added last, Harry swinging the bag over his
shoulder to smile at the silently crying woman who had yet to move from her seat. Madelyn
would do as he asked, not because she was commited to Vought but because Teddy’s life was
on the line, and that was the greatest motivator a mother could ever have.

Homelander was dressed once more, tanned body hidden under the shirt and jeans Harry had
made him bring along and Harry could not help but to squeeze the bulge, the persona of the
indestructable hero shattering under his palm with a low moan, features softening when
Harry pressed a soft kiss to his lips.
“Let’s go home shall we John, today was your last day as Vought’s pet. Ms. Stillwell here has
agreed to hand in your resignation.”

He passed the baby back to John, the man looking startled all over again but tucked the child
to his shoulder easily enough. Harry watched as John stared at Madelyn, two pairs of blue
eyes peering into each other but no words were spoken, John simply walking away and down
the stairs leaving Harry and the blond woman alone.

Harry would kill her the moment her purpose was over and he would enjoy it greatly. What
he would do with Teddy still had yet to be decided but the baby boy would never know his
mother that much was sure.

Whatever she saw in his expression made the woman burst into fresh tears, Harry humming
as he strolled down the stairs to the car they had driven to the Stillwell home. John was
already in the backseat, Teddy in his lap, downy hair in the crook of his arm and Harry had to
chuckle, not minding the glare aimed at him.

“You look so domestic John.” he murmured choosing to look at the man from the rear view
mirror.

John blushed lightly “I do not.”

Harry pulled out of the driveway “Would you like one.”

“One of what?”

Harry glanced at him in the mirror again “A baby John. Would you like a baby. One of your
body and mines, a small creature that is perfectly us.”

John was silent for a long time and Harry let the quiet stretch on for as long as needed, the
car turning into the driveway of the apartment building. Nothing was spoken between them
for hours, John occupying his time with a book and Harry his own plans, Teddy fed and
sleeping.

“I don’t want one, they are loud and always cry for no apparent reason. Annoying little things
that take up too much time to care for.”

The words came near to midnight when Harry came back from the showers and John sat
naked under the comforter of the bed. Harry stared at the former hero whose head was
lowered and eyes diverted, hands clenched in the blue material of the heavy blanket.

“And?” Harry prompted, gently nudging him to continue.

“I don’t want to share you. Not with anyone, you’re mines.”

There was a dark look in those blue eyes Harry loved, one that spoke of possession and
madness that reminded Harry of the John he had first met who was drowning in expectations
set upon him, a mask so tightly glued to his face he sometimes slipped between personas.
Taking the towel from his waist Harry dried his hair not missing the gaze shift from his face
to his crotch and he allowed the other to stare, to squirm, all in an effort to remove the stain
Vought had embedded in John. He was not foolish or optimistic enough to believe that John
would ever stop being a sociopath and his murderous tendencies towards humans would
probably never go away but John was learning, Harry was slowly chipping away at the muck
Vought had covered him in.

John moved from under the covers to kneel on the edge of the bed, his nipples still a bit
swollen and red standing out against the golden skin of his chest and already his pupils were
blown, cock curved hard against his belly.

“Harry…” his name was said with such reverence it made Harry smile.

Harry came closer until his limp cock pressed against those soft pink lips, John nuzzling the
length with before Harry gave him permission to continue.

“No hands.”

A warm mouth enveloped him as gentle sucking sent him further into John’s mouth, his
tongue massaging the underside of the thickening cock until John’s throat bulged with it,
Harry’s fingers running through the blond strands.

“I want a family John.”

John stilled and Harry’s hand gripped his hair to keep him impaled on his cock then a finger
to pinch his nose close as the blond tensed more and more.

“I want a family with you.” he elaborated.

“To provide what we never received as children. To nourish and love a baby and then more.”

He was slowly fucking the warm wetness of John’s mouth, small gags leaving the former
superhero whose hands clenched the sheet in an effort to not fight for breath.

“If the humans created us then I’m sure one will be smart enough to know how to implant a
womb strong enough to carry life yes? You would look so beautiful with my child John, the
baby would love you as his or her mother and I would love you even more for what you’ve
given me.”

John’s eyes were slowly rolling back from the lack of oxygen.

“I would do nothing but worship you and your body, I’ll keep you happy and filled, whatever
you desire, whatever you want my love I will provide it.”

Harry had thought on this for a long time, had narrowed down names of scientists in Vought
and around the world who specialized in the immoral shit Vought conducted, who knew how
to manipulate the human body and bring life where there should be none.

Of course they would all have to die afterwards along with their families, close friends and
colleagues so the secret remained as such but it was a small price to pay.
“I’ll fuck you full of my children enough so your tits will really leak milk. Imagine it John.
You won’t have to share me because they will be an extension of you and I, I am yours with
or without a child. All of me.”

Harry withdrew and John gasped loudly before coughing, saliva running from his mouth and
his eyes watered, Harry rearranging the hacking man so his legs were spread, hole virgin tight
now since Harry turned off the nullification effect.

“Will you do that for me John?” Harry asked, voice so deep with lust it made the former hero
shiver, his legs spreading as wide as they could go as he arched his back.

His throat still burned as well as his lungs but his healing kicked in and the wet blunt pressure
pushing at his hole was enough to distract him. John moaned loudly as the wide head pushed
inside, the rest of the spit wet cock forcing his too tight walls apart inch by painful inch.

John was in heaven.

His cock throbbed, precum dripping from it enough until he had an impressive wet spot under
him. He was so close he wanted to cry but Harry was only half way inside, fat cock piercing
him deeper still, spreading his hole wider by the minute.

The nullification was activated and John cried out when Hary thrust the remainder of the way
in, hips slapping sharply against the curve of John’s ass.

It hurt but it was a delicious sort of pain, a filling ache that made his guts clench and his hole
spasm around the hefty intrusion. John knew Harry would never force him to do anything,
consent had been the first word he learned with him, always consent.

He was being fucked roughly but Harry was still careful, the hands gripping his hips and the
meat of his ass kept him from running, made him stay still and take every inch that was being
slammed into him and John needed to cum, he had to right now.

“Haa-arry… I haa... have to… c-cum… please!”

A hard slap to the ass was his answer and John bit the sheet between his teeth.

“Pl-please! Please! I wa-wanna cum!”

Harry closed his eyes and simply listened to John beg, combined with the wet sounds his ass
made along with the creaking of the bed it was like the greatest symphony to ever reach his
ears. Leaning most of his weight onto John’s back Harry wrapped a hand around the pulsing
length of the former hero, John squealing as Harry gently stroked him, thumb rubbing over
the no doubt angry coloured tip.

“You may cum.” he murmured.

John went taunt under him and Harry moaned as the man’s walls clamped down around him
as John came, milky white coating Harry’s hand until it dripped from the digits. Pulling out
he turned the panting blond over onto his back, the cum stained fingers hovering over the
open mouth and John in his orgasmic bliss held out his tongue when Harry brought the cum
soaked fingers closer.

John licked Harry’s fingers clean then moaned into the kiss he was given, Harry tasting
John’s spunk on his tongue, not breaking the kiss to thrust back inside but swallowing the
startled groan from the man under him.

Peppering John’s neck with bites, he sucked deep bruises into the flawless skin, efficient now
at multi-taking, cock drilling the former hero into the mattress, John’s screams rising and
falling, fingers digging bloody lines down Harry’s shoulder and back.

“Let me breed you full like this everytime John, let me fuck a baby into you.”

John writhed under him, erect and close to the edge once more.

“Let me build you the life you deserved. I will raze the ground Vought stands on, any heroes
who dare to oppose my mission. I’ll bring you their heads if you ask.”

John stared at Harry with watery blue eyes, hands wrapped around Harry’s neck and holding
his hair as his body rocked with each powerful thrust. Staring at Harry now John could see
the barely contained desperation in his eyes. He was not blind or oblivious to the stares the
man often gave the humans when they went out, John out of his Homelander suit and in
civilian clothing.

Harry would stare at the annoying little creatures with such love it made John jealous because
only he should garner that expression. He loathed anything and anyone who could make
Harry feel , he was to be the only person Harry looked at, the only one he touched, the one
who could make Harry happy.

“I won-won’t be… be able t-to lo-love it…”

“You can learn.”

John shook his head.

He would never say it because then he would have to see the hurt in Harry’s eyes, but he
would rather kill a child than to pretend to like it. He had no capacity to take care of
something so needy, not when he had not been given an ounce of love beyond a blanket.

Harry went silent after that and John let himself be lost in the movements, the drag of Harry’s
cock against his inner walls and the building orgasm stabbing him in the gut.

He came again with a whimper this time and Harry held him close when he spilled inside of
him, John's belly suddenly full of cum. They remained like that even when Harry softened
inside of him, John’s eyes remained close but his hand gently pet through the thick black
waves of Harry’s hair.

He knew he had disappointed him, he could feel it.

“I only want you Harry.”

Harry shifted where he laid ontop of John, face pressed into John’s neck to inhale the man’s
unique scent.

“I know.”

John’s lips thinned slightly.

“Do you still want me?”

Harry bit him in the neck, John yelping at the sudden pain, Harry’s bemused face and bloody
lips making John squirm.

“I am disappointed yes, but I’ll get over it. Do you think I would ever stop loving you
because you said no? And here I believed you to be smarter than that love.”

John gave a mighty roll of his eyes but only pulled Harry down for a kiss, gasping when he
felt Harry’s cock swell again inside him, the length thickening into his cum filled depths.

“Tomorrow I shall deal with Black Noir. Vought will go on the offensive after that.”

Harry rolled onto his back as John took control, gasping as he rode the raw cock, the cum
inside him making it slippery.

“I love you John.” Harry murmured, the nullification cancelling and John shuddered as his
healing kicked in making his hole impossibly tight around the huge cock.

John bounced on the fat length, asshole stretching anew from the snug fit but his grin was
wide. He didn’t say anything back but Harry didn’t need him to.
 Harry/Carlisle Cullen
Chapter Summary

“Tell me what you want Carlisle. Tell me.” he commanded and the younger blond
sobbed under him, cock drooling and no doubt he was close once more. (Harry/Carlisle -
Twilight)

Chapter Notes
See the end of the chapter for notes

The very air of Forks made him disappointed, the place dreary with a gloom surrounding it
like fog, the people from what he observed simple and comfortable in the simplicity they
lived in, and that alone made Harry’s skin itch.

Why on earth would Carlisle subject himself to such a place when he had once lived like a
king in Harry’s home in Rome and then like a prince in the halls of the Volterra afterward.

Forks in comparison was like the sewer Carlisle had once occupied like a rat and Harry’s lips
could not help but curl in further distaste at the smell of wet dog or more specifically wolf
shifters.

It was not a hatred based on discrimination because Harry had lived long enough to know
where the lines blurred between vampires and werewolves, he knew of the origins of their
long-standing feud and knew that it would perhaps never end because of pure stubbornness
and a need for a reason to feel alive.

No his hatred of wolf shifters stemmed from their propensity of breeding with humans and
having the humans remain mortal. Perhaps he was just too traditional in the old ways of
accepting the bite regardless of where it came from. He did not fault them for having children
and ensuring their bloodlines continued but to have a human amongst them, a weak thing that
easily broke was like placing a toy dog in an enclosure with wolves and not asking for it to be
injured.

The town was quaint with a peaceful serenity about it, and maybe that was the reason Carlisle
choose it as a place to settle down.

Rolling his red eyes behind the sunglasses Harry wondered if the man would ever change
from such a childish notion, his compassion boundless for humans and vampires alike, unlike
Harry who found everyone beyond a chosen few to be annoyances.

He lived long enough to see empires rise and fall, nations dissolve into war and the lush
fields turn into graves for the fallen who were never carried home. Harry had even sat in
some meetings which decided genocide for others, labs creating viruses to destroy and reduce
populations, humans as a whole were awful creatures fueled by greed and clinging to the
notion of superiority.

The bond thrummed stronger the more he walked until it was practically vibrating in the
depths of his soul, the silvery thread connecting him to Carlisle glowed like the purest
mithril. His feet led him to a three-storey house constructed of mostly glass windows nestled
in the forest away from the prying eyes of humans.

This close he could smell Carlisle, that wonderful scent of richness that never failed to make
his mouth water and venom seep, the other six scents mingling around the one and
intertwining.

It was Carlisle’s compassion which led them to be a part for so long.

The desire to explore and experience life through the eyes of an undead, or whatever drivel
his beloved spouted one night after Harry had wrung several orgasms from the younger
vampire before reaching his own.

Pressing the doorbell with a gloved hand Harry listened to the chime sound off three times,
the sole person within the house coming closer at a human pace but the thread glowed
brighter than ever and had Harry had a beating heart then his would surely be pounding in
excitement.

The door opened and the sounds of the forest dulled to nothing and Harry’s eyes glowed
brighter, the dull red intensifying to a bloody hue. Taking the shades off he let them drop to
the floor of the step, his body being forced to take two steps back when Carlisle collided with
him.

“Oh, my beloved. How I have missed you.” he murmured into the golden hair and Carlisle
clung to him tighter, body trembling in Harry’s hold, a garble of undistinguishable words
escaping.

“Have you had your fill of exploration? Are you satisfied?”

The Cullen patriarch took a step back, his golden eyes glowing with emotion and his pale
skin burned where Harry brushed a thumb over it, and only then did Harry notice what the
blond wore.

His robe sheer to the point Harry could see his nipples through the material perked already
and both adorned with a thin gold chain so delicate a slight tug might break it.

The plains of Carlisle’s abdomen just as Harry remembered it being, creamy paleness abed a
defined structure and there resting on his belly just below his navel was a painted sigil Harry
constructed almost 200 years ago.

The night before Carlisle left Harry had pressed a vial of his blood into the other’s palm
attached to a chain, the act alone spoke wonders of his trust in the younger vampire.
Harry wondered for countless nights if his actions were the correct ones if he should not have
just persuaded the other to remain or perhaps even forced him to. His blood was one of the
most precious materials on earth and placed in the wrong hands meant Harry would have to
venture from his domain to clean up a few insects and then the unthinkable should it come to
pass.

“You naughty child.” he murmured, red eyes still fixated on the sigil painted in his blood.

Vampires were dead in every sense of the word. No heartbeat to pump blood throughout the
system and as such, they were little more than walking corpses and as such conceiving was to
be as impossible as an elephant gaining the ability of flight.

“I could sense you coming.” Carlisle gasped, knees buckling and golden eyes fluttering close
when Harry trailed a gloved finger up and along the hard line in the white brief shorts.

“I waited for so long for you - mhm!” Carlisle clung to Harry as the older vampire gently
pushed down the material of his underwear, glove discarded like the shades and a cool hand
wrapped itself around his perked cock.

“Yes?” Harry intoned, prompting the man to continue.

“I - I felt so empty… so cold, Harry please n-not here in the doorway I can’t -”

His words were cut off by the kiss and he melted into it, Harry’s human tongue morphing
longer until Carlisle choked on the muscle and he swallowed the moment he felt venom
mixed with blood begin to flow against his tongue.

The effects were almost instantaneous.

His body grew warmer and his skin tingled, blood rushing to his cheeks and cum spurting
from his cock seconds later. The orgasm so sudden he could only cling to Harry, cries silent
and eyes wide in shock and bliss, Harry licking around his mouth as if to sample his taste
before the older vampire withdrew and Carlisle felt his hole clench.

Those familiar red eyes were as warm as he remembered them to be, his touch just as
electrifying and Carlisle smiled sweetly at the man who promised him everything. Taking the
other by his hand he took a step back past the threshold of the doorway they had yet to move
from, Carlisle’s cum dripping to the floor below from between their intertwined palms.

“Welcome home husband.”

The second the words left his mouth the eldest Cullen gave an elated shout when he was
picked up from the floor and Harry stepped inside, the door slamming close behind him and
they descended onto the softest surface.

Shedding himself of the black suit with Carlisle tugging down the zipper so the erect length
of his cock sprung free and like this so close to the other he could smell the arousal
permeating from his skin similar to a dog smelling heat upon a bitch.
A three inched black claw grew over his human nails and tilted Carlisle’s head back before
slicing open his wrist and like a starving man, the eldest Cullen latched onto his wrist, the red
blood being sucked lazily.

Knocking the pale thighs apart Carlisle easily spread his thighs where he laid on the white
couch, pucker winking and the barest indication of something wet shining over the wrinkled
crease, the shine turning to a dribble and then that to a leaking.

Pressing a thumb to the hole Harry watched as his finger was swallowed in an instant, the
soft insides slick with Carlisle’s wetness and walls iron tight.

The thumb switched for two fingers and the blond vampire gasped aloud when Harry buried
both to the knuckle, a third digit added swiftly after. Lifting his wrist to his mouth Harry
licked the slice over until it closed up leaving only the smear of blood remained.

A fourth finger pushed past the tight rim to slot itself beside the others, each digit wriggling
around the wet hole to loosen up the blond but Harry knew given the time frame there would
still be a bit of pain.

Carlisle panted under him, face flushed and lips cherry red with blood and his cock hard
again standing tall just shy of his lower belly and already looked so wrecked and debauched
it made Harry chuckle and gladly went with the motions when Carlisle dragged him forward
into another kiss.

The vampire hummed in distinct gratification when his boy pried the slippery fingers from
within him and instead took ahold of the heavy cock and guided it down to his wetness.

Harry had not bared witness to the wonders of his blood since Carlisle left his home in 1808,
or perhaps he should say nothing so pleasurable.

Only Carlisle reacted like this, body morphing into perfection beyond the capabilities of a
human male and Harry watched as his cock was slowly taken in, the bulbous head catching
on the rim before slipping inside with a bit of effort.

“Ah… aah…”

Harry brushed away the condensation from his boy’s brow “Is it too much? Should we
prepare you more?”

Carlisle shook his head despite his features telling Harry he was in pain and the too-tight
walls shuddered around the fat girth before reluctantly parting to allow more in.

Pursing his lips Harry allowed Carlisle to do as he pleased as he always had since first
meeting the freshly turned boy who fed on rats like some deranged beast. Carlisle was the
only individual who Harry would allow leeway, whom he allowed control.

It was slow going even with how wet he was on the inside, a crevice not used for nearly 200
years and he listened as the blond vampires hissed curses only to groan when Harry finally
filled him to the hilt. Panting he peered up at the older vampire through pale lashes, hole
stretched wide for the first time since he left Harry with a heavy heart but a determination to
see the world before he settled down.

He could feel the twitching of his mate’s cock in him and he knew it must have been
uncomfortable for the other to stay still but Harry never once did anything he did not want,
never intentionally hurt him, and never would. If his life thus far had been uncertain with
each addition to his pseudo-family then Harry would always be the one constant entity he
could rely on to never change.

He wanted to ask so many questions, to sit on and listen to the smooth voice as Harry
detailed every tiny thing he did during these past 200 years without Carlisle by his side to
ensure he rested and ate to make sure he was happy.

Leaning into the cool palm he returned the slow kiss, the lazy drag of a human tongue against
his own, then the slower retreat of the length all before it pushed inside again and he keened,
hands clenching the broad shoulder and the short hairs along Harry’s nape.

Biting his tongue the vampire let his life essence flow into the blond’s mouth, the word mate
resounding in his skull like the tolling of a bell, Carlisle drinking it without reservation.

Oh how long he had waited for this moment.

For the lovely man under him who cried out until his voice filled the empty house and seeped
through the wood, walls, and glass. His hole so wet each thrust back in delivered a squelch
and splatter of juices onto the pristine white cushion and Harry took personal satisfaction in
ruining the white couch, Carlisle’s blunt nails digging into the soft covers until the sponge
spilled out.

“Harry! Harry!”

Carlisle squealed, legs closing briefly before spreading further and his untouched cock jerked
once before he came again, the release landing on his parted lips and cheek, both of which
Harry gladly cleaned with his tongue, hips not ceasing but only sped up.

“You are so beautiful, so perfect for me Carlisle.” Harry mumbled against his lips and was
rewarded by a squeeze around his cock.

“I wish you could see yourself like this.” he continued, hand trailing upward over pale sides
to pinch a nipple.

Moaning loudly he let each sound, every whimper, and exhale fill him, gaze shifting down to
the mark of fertility etched in blood, the dried paint holding a wetter gleam now and Harry
shifted his stance, turning them so he could clamor onto the couch as well.

Driving forward Carlisle screamed, nails digging into the skin of Harry’s back and neck but it
was a minor insignificant pain in face of the immense pleasure rippling through his core.

His name was wailed like a hymn of worship.

Carlisle for the first time in a long time experiencing the stinging of salty tears as his prostate
was hammered relentlessly and he could feel another rush of release coming forth, balls
rising and he cried out amid tears this time.

The sigil’s blood was fresh once more and held a slight sheen to it and Harry suckled one of
the perked pebbles resting on the pale chest of his mate, of the only person in his entire
existence he felt compelled to care for and that he would risk everything to gain.

In the back of his mind he could feel six presences coming closer along with the rumble of an
engine and if Carlisle was not so far gone in the delirium of euphoria he might have
recognized his family returning as well.

“What do you want my love, tell me exactly what you want.” he murmured into the blond’s
ear, teeth biting the lobe.

Harry was swiftly reaching his peak as well but he had a point to prove to the approaching
vampires who no doubt could hear the happenings from inside.

Carlisle whimpering when Harry’s length swelled slightly, the tip reaching to the depths of
his belly where magic was working on building a home for their future. It was when Harry
drove his hips forward once more did he feel something that had not been there previously
give way, like the tearing of a thin membrane then there was pressure and Carlisle yelped in
pain.

Pulling out slowly Harry pressed a hand to Carlisle's belly and the man squirmed.

“I may have just penetrated your cervix.” he tried to not sound smug about the ordeal but the
new addition just told them both it was complete and Carlisle’s eyes widened, hands seeking
to touch his lower belly and despite their fingers brushing over the mark it did not smudge.

“We can do it?” Carlisle whispered, as if afraid to ask.

The question tentatively asked and Harry smiled down at the only person he had loved in his
thousands upon thousands of years alive, his time in the early bronze age until he met
Carlisle had been empty and lonesome with anger fueling his desire to live until even that
tempered to cold numbness.

“We will.” he was rewarded with a brilliant smile and when he pressed to the gaping hole
again they both groaned in unison.

Pushing Carlisle’s strong thighs forward he held him there in a mating press and when he let
his cock prod at the new space, the cervix so brand new and already violated by him Harry
growled and shoved forward, Carlisle’s eyes rolling back.

“Tell me what you want Carlisle. Tell me.” he commanded and the younger blond sobbed
under him, cock drooling and no doubt he was close once more.

“Tell me!”
The door opened and Harry looked up, eyes blazing red and fangs in place of his human
canines to stare at the six people crowding in just beyond the door. Each pale and baring the
typical looks of those who were turned, the woman at the forefront staring at Carlisle as if she
saw a ghost.

“I want your cum!”

The exclaim brought Harry’s attention back down to the man who clung to him tight enough
to draw blood and Harry grinned savagely and yanked a scream of pleasure from Carlisle, the
man crying but begging for more with every breath.

“I want you to breed me Harry, pleasepleaseplease !”

Harry licked away the sweat from his mate’s brow and neck, tongue lavishly the pink lips
with wet kisses.

“I want a baby Master, I want a baby with you so please -” he choked on a sob, wheezing
seconds later and Harry groaned low like a bear rumbling from the depths of a cave, cock
swelling a bit more and he wrenched Carlisle’s head back by the golden strands so his neck
was bared.

“Educ tecum, mihi placet! Harry!” he begged.

The slip of Latin was what surprisingly pushed Harry over the edge and he slammed his hips
forward once more to bury the meaty 12 inches within the soft hole, cock propelling past the
cervix to rest in the newly constructed womb before his seed poured out in a surge of potent
white to saturate Carlisle from the inside.

His teeth sinking into the pliant human-like skin and Carlisle gave a full-body shuddered as
he spilled his seed between them, nothing more than a spurt then a dribble.

Drinking two mouthfuls of blood he raised his head to stare at the stunned family, all shocked
silent, and fearful, the stench of prey battling to overwhelm the aroma of sex.

Licking his lips Harry dismissed them to kiss Carlisle, his beautiful ray of sunshine, the most
precious creature upon the earth in Harry’s sight.

The sigil sank below the skin bit by bit until the flawless abdomen remained and Harry pulled
out only when he was limp and Carlisle unconscious under him. No doubt there would be
glares for doing such an indecent thing while the group of people watched but Harry would
be as unapologetic as he had been after slaughtering Carlisle’s village full of idiots.

Lifting him Harry padded up the stairs to the room which smelled of the blond vampire the
most and he sneered when the scent of the woman mingled with his mate’s own intimately.

Descending back down to the living room Harry took up the white throw blanket from over
the couch and wiped his cock clean of cum and Carlisle’s wetness, discarding it on the floor
before redressing sans the waistcoat and jacket.
 None of the Cullens moved and the door remained open as a way for a viable exit and when
Harry turned to face them slowly, eyes bloody red and clothes all black he grinned to expose
his fangs.

“I suppose introductions are in order before Carlisle reawakens.” he drawled, neck rolling
then cracking.

“My name is Harrison Potter-Black.” he rolled the cuffs of his shirt up to just below the
elbows.

“I am Carlisle’s husband and I suppose the new Master of his lovely home.”

Raising his index finger he stopped any questions or denial, leveling them with a hard stare
his red eyes drifting over the beautiful girl to the hulking man who partially shielded her from
his view. To the boy whose features showed indifference but his back was held straight to the
short girl sporting a pixie cut, past the woman who still looked shocked, and finally, the gaze
settled on the sour-looking boy near the back.

“As the new Master of this house, I am giving you a chance boy to explain why you smell
like a human .”

Chapter End Notes

Shout out to @Lets_be_badass who gave the prompt "Carlisle never telling his family
about his mate or something and them being surprised when he shows up"

I don't have control over what I write guys, when inspiration hits I just roll with it
*facepalm*

@ElvinaPotter - Oops I did it again.

Fun facts:
This Harry was born in 3000 BC during the early bronze age so I think that roughly puts
him around 5007 years old in 2008 if the calculator thingy I used is correct.

He is more old school daywalker vampire than the Twilight version and his blood is
special in the sense it can 'thaw' the effects of the vampire virus so to speak as seen with
Carlisle, though Carlisle's reaction is a bit unique.
 Harry/Minato Namikaze
Chapter Summary

The Fates transport Harry to another universe and Harry discovers it isn't all that bad.

Chapter Notes
See the end of the chapter for notes

This was both new and annoying Harry surmised as he stared down at the blond human, a
male and one wielding a weapon and why the hell was his soul being sucked towards Harry?!

Yelping internally he flung the glowing human-shaped blue mass back towards the human
and the man barely had two seconds before he was bodily thrown away from Harry across the
field they were standing on, his figure bouncing several times before crashing into a tree in a
hail of green and brown leaves.

Ouch.

Taking in his new body Harry’s lips curled, or at least they tried to because apparently
holding a sword in one’s mouth became a thing in this world. Dried purpling skin like a
corpse, a boney chest, white hair, and frankly he felt uncomfortable with how many souls
were swarming in his gut.

Okay, time for a change.

It was one thing to be teleported away from his comfortable chair during his mid-day tea and
midway during him being blown by the lovely male prostitute of the club he owned because
more clubs could be made and more tea could be had, but it was an entirely different situation
when the Fates chose to give him such an ugly body without a cock!

Honestly, he was offended.

It had nearly 500 years since the Fates decided to throw him through space and time, 400
years since the last one was war-torn but never did he land in such a gross body before. Ugh.

Reconstructing his physical stature took less than five minutes, the hair shades darker until it
was his usual black hair with an after he made the tresses straight to manage the ridiculous
style of hair, the new waves falling down to his center back and over his shoulders. Bones
shifting and realigning until his frame bulked with muscle, the boney chest filling out and his
cock grew back to hang in all of its 14 inches of limp glory.

Sighing in relief Harry wiggled his fingers and with a tingle, the decayed looking skin turned
pale and healthy, fingernails painted black and could change between claws and human-
shaped. Interesting.

An internal self check later and Harry scratched his head in frustration at the influx of
information he found. War, beasts made of chakra, jutsus, and a shit ton more that would
never have made sense to him in his past universe.

Changing the rags for a more expensive-looking yukata he kept it tied loosely so his chest
was exposed and hints of his thighs, the black material held together by a wine-red belt.
Foregoing underwear he deflected a hail of kunai from the unconscious blond whose soul he
had been in the process of eating.

The ninja attempting to take out the blond dropped dead seconds later as his struggling soul
vacated his body captured by tendrils and Harry hummed as the soul absorbed into his body,
glancing at the individual in an orange swirled mask who Harry dismissed a second later.

Crouching before the man Harry took him by the chin and tilted his head, clawed thumb
brushing over the slightly chapped but lovely lips, tanned skin slightly pale from having his
soul taken out then forcibly shoved back in. Good stature, nicely muscled thighs, and a
beautiful face.

A mouth full of sharp teeth grinned wide as he stood straight once more. It was not hard to
guess the problem was the giant ass fox rampaging yonder.

Picking up the human he slung the man over his shoulder and with a step Harry propelled
himself into the air to float above the treetops and finally he took in the amount of carnage
and chaos surrounding the land.

No wonder he was full of souls already.

Cupping a feel of the ample firm ass under the robes Harry snuck a look into the human’s
mind, flashes of a red-haired woman, and a miniature version of himself coming to the
forefront.

Ah… his family.

A flare of chakra to the right made Harry blinked at the sight of chakra chains causing the
giant tailed fox to howl in rage and the Death God sighed.

Sucker punching the most powerful tailed beast.

Watching a dying human stare at him in utter horror them mild amusement before she cradled
her crying baby.

Sealing the comatose fox’s chakra into the said baby and then sealing off its power with nine
separate gates having to be opened in what would be a gradual development.

He savored her soul, a delicacy almost buttery unlike the masked man’s whose soul had held
a bitter tinge akin to vinegar.
Once again he crouched before the human male and Harry not even two hours of waking up
in this strange world found himself smitten with a human he had yet to speak a single word
to.

T he baby the woman called Naruto was sleeping comfortably in the crook of his arm - Harry
snorted because who named their kid Fishcake?

Naruto whimpered in his sleep and Harry shushed the baby by gently rocking him “Don’t
worry little fishcake, Oji-chan is here and I won’t be going anywhere, no I won’t be, no I
won’t~” he cooed as ninja around them cried for their lost ones and village continued to
burn.

“Accommodations for Tsunade-sama’s plans for the hospital and general clinics will be
discussed after the break and then Fugaku will give the report on the police development as
well as the plans for alliance negotiations. The meeting will reconvene in an hour and a half,
enough time for everyone to eat and stretch our feet. Dismissed.”

Minato smiled at the congregated clan heads who all groaned with Tsume cursing rather
loudly about how sore her ass was and Minato had to agree.

Sitting for five hours straight with only tea and light snacks between them was rather taxing
but it needed to be done.

Five years after the incident and he had lost Kushina, Minato could say he had grieved and
could comfortably live with her death. It still weighed a bit on his soul and in moments he
missed her laughter and rage, some smells still reminded him of her but life was good, he was
happy even.

It was amusing to see all the clan heads with children heading in the same direction, himself
included walking towards the room several doors down from the conference hall and already
the sounds of groans could be heard.

Harumitsu laid comfortably under the pile of children all trying to get him to move. Eight
five-year-olds grunting and sweating as Harumitsu floated a bowl of assorted candy and
chocolates several feet off the ground. It was not difficult to see the point of the game, one so
serious even the normally timid or aloof children like Hinata, Shikamaru, and Shino were
drawn into it.

Get the man to move and they get the candy.

It should have been an easy win with eight bodies against one but the odds were stacked
against the children.

For one, Harumitsu was a giant. Standing at 6’9 he towered over all of the adults in the room
or probably everyone within Konoha.
The second reason which became privy to the Clan heads five years ago pertaining to
Harumitsu being the Death God in human form, a contract formed between him and Minato,
one of protection for servitude.

“Oji-chaaan! Get uuup!” Naruto huffed and Minato snorted at his son’s red face, Fugaku
sighing softly next to him at seeing Sasuke squat low and his pale face now cherry red with
exertion.

As funny as it was no doubt one of the children would grow frustrated and try to use a kunai
on the man. It wouldn’t do Harumitsu any harm but it was the moral of the actions which
mattered.

Minato had no doubt Naruto would be the first to try.

“Harumitsu.” he called out and the children all yelped in shock when the huge man suddenly
sat up, the movement so fast it was a second later that all eight children fell to the ground,
hands now empty.

Fugaku flinched next to Minato, Inoichi rubbed his eyes and Hiashi’s expression tightened.

Each of them had reached for a weapon, more instinct due to reaction than any real cause.

Five years and they were still wary of the man and for good reason.

“Minato.” Harumitsu purred, shark teeth no longer frightening.

Behind him, the bowl of candy fell and Shikamaru caught it and eight pairs of eyes glared at
the broad back of the man their parents left to babysit them before descending on the bowl
like ravenous wolves.

Leaving Naruto with Sasuke, the two boys already attached at the hip, he nodded to Fugaku
who guided both boys towards the door and out of Hokage tower, Naruto’s cries of ramen
drowned out by the louder protests of Sasuke’s adamant “No!”

The walk back Minato’s office was brisk and the moment they entered, doors locked and
Anbu disappearing the fourth Hokage stripped off his robes until he stood naked before the
God in human form.

Their arrangement was initially all business-like. Every night Minato would stiffly come to
Harumitsu’s room and lay naked like a doll for the Demon God to take, his efforts to hold
back his cries of pleasure failing and then humiliation burning his belly afterward.

Somewhere along the years, it had changed to this.

No longer scheduled and Minato was no longer afraid, if anything he looked forward to
seeing the Haumitsu who was as smitten with Naruto as the little boy was of him, and
Minato… Minato was man enough to admit his feelings towards the giant had changed as
well.
“Mina-chan.” Harumitsu purred, large hands lifting him off the ground to place him on the
desk, calloused fingers dragging over sensitive nipples and an even more sensitive cock
causing the Hokage to flinch, a reedy moan leaving him.

Laying back he parted his thighs, legs drawn back until his feet rested near his head, a perk of
being flexible and he heard Harumitsu rumble in appreciation at the sight he presented to the
God.

Taking the loose yukata from his shoulders and arms Harry licked his lips, hands caressing
the tanned flesh of Minato’s ass and legs, thumbs spreading each cheek further apart so he
could get a better look at the puffy hole still loose and leaking the remnants of his cum from
earlier.

“Are you hungry again Mina-chan?” he murmured and Minato’s pucker winked, clenching
down on nothing as if to show him just how starved it truly was with a dribble of cum
escaping the swollen crease.

Crouching down Harumitsu tilted his head, claw-tipped hands holding the human down as he
observed the place he spent most nights and mornings buried to the hilt in, where he emptied
his balls continuously into the human he considered so precious he might just level a rival
village to protect him.

Minato made his transition into this new world bearable. Naruto made it fun. The two blonds
made his life wonderful and he would do anything for them, his two fragile humans.

Nuzzling the pucker he licked it with his human tongue once to send a shiver through the
Hokage and by doing so he tasted himself still leaking from the man, tongue lapping over the
puffed hole to bathe it in his saliva.

The human tongue changing to the normal 8 inches long and two inches thick, and he
wriggled it inside Minato’s already sensitive crease to drag forth a stifled scream from
Konoha’s fearless leader.

Rolling it around he made sure the appendage got as deep as possible, twisting and turning
and not stopping even when the man grabbed two handfuls of his hair, their positions
suddenly switched to the floor with Minato seating on his face, hips undulating and eyes
glazed in pleasure.

Sucking on the hole while keeping the inhuman tongue fucking him from the inside
Harumitsu grasped the small human cock in hand to allow Minato to fuck into his fist and
should any of the ANBU have remained they would bare witness to the Yellow Flash in the
peak of his first orgasm.

Not that they would ever have a chance to, Harumitsu made sure his possessiveness was
made clear the first time.

Pushing Minato off he held the human down, tongue slipping from his wet hole to wrap
around the twitching cock causing his human to cry out as the tongue wrapped around his
shaft four times and the suction increased.
“Haru! Haru I’m cumming! I’m -” Minato’s toes curled and the God hummed as the cum
filled his mouth before he swallowed. Minato going limp on the floor and Harumitsu tilted
his head down at the panting blond, his hair golden hair spread out like a halo and if angels
were a thing in this world Harry would definitely call him one.

Conjuring a futon under him he let Minato roll over at his own pace as Harumitsu finished
removing the yukata to let his already stiff cock taste the warm air, a thick line of precum
hanging from the tip. Minato rolling onto his hands and knees, the delicious globes arched
into the air, and his upper half-pressed low to the futon.

The bulbous tip of Harry’s cock pressed to the leaking snatch, supernatural green eyes never
wavering as he watched the tip get sucked in and there went his control.

Snapping his hips forward the fist-sized cock opened the Hokage up again, his walls parting
and belly bulging from the sheer length and girth of the inhuman cock with Minato wailing
into his hand, embarrassment forever permanent even as he squeezed down around Harry.

Leaning forward so his chest was flush against the tanned back Harry’s clawed hands gripped
the sides of the futon next to Minato’s head, long tongue licking away the sweat gathering
over the sun-kissed skin along his back and neck as his cock plundered the sweet hole.

Each thrust bloated the firm belly making the skin distend and each deep fit clawed a
strangled moan from the blond, his hands clutching the mattress as Harumitsu used his body,
cock aching again as it bounced against his stomach to smack against the intrusion in his
guts.

It was a fast and sloppy fuck unlike their nights when Naruto was down for the count
sprawled in ridiculous positions on his own bed. At night Harumitsu could take his time in
taking apart Minato until all the man could do was beg and cry.

Harumitsu groaned low and Minato raised his ass a bit higher and relaxed when the God
clung to him when they rolled to the side and he looked down when he felt the beginnings of
hot cum fill him.

It was always a sight to witness when the man came, his belly taking in the copious amounts
of semen until he was filled to the brim then more. Gasping Harumitsu’s name as the clawed
hand wrung another blind orgasm from him Minato writhed back on the still hard cock
lodged balls deep in his sloppy hole, the God still cumming, and just like magic Minato’s
stomach began to grow.

The skin stretching and stretching as he was slowly filled with cum until his belly bared a
bulge as if he had eaten a week’s worth of food all at once. He looked as Kushina had during
her second trimester and as a silent kink, he liked to secretly entertain the idea of something
growing in his belly. A sibling for Naruto to dote on.

“Mina-chan.” Harumitsu mumbled and Minato craned his head to the side and accepted the
lazy kiss as a large hand covered his own where it rested on his bloated belly.

“Did the kids tire you out?” Minato asked softly and the Death God snorted.
 “No. They were well behaved until I introduced the game. I had a nice nap while they were
trying to move me. Kinda like a massage with all their slaps and stomps.”

Minato chuckled then moaned loudly when the limp cock was pulled from his hole, the
pressure of chakra at the gaping pucker made him wiggle slightly.

“It would be troublesome to clean it all out now wouldn’t it.” the God murmured and Minato
allowed Harumitsu to lead him to the showers where large hands gently scrubbed him down
to wash away the pungent scent of sex.

Adorning his clothes and robes again Minato rubbed the heavyweight of his distended
abdomen under the clothes, Harumitsu leaning down to kiss him once more before the voices
of the children reached their ears.

“Oji-chan! Chichi! Fugaku-san bought me ramen and Dango!”

Harumitsu watched as the tiny ball of energy collided with Minato’s legs and he braced a
hand to the man’s back to keep him steady. Lifting the five-year-old Minato nuzzled the soft
hair of his baby until Naruto squirmed when his friends snickered.

“Chichi not in front of everyone!” Naruto whined through he didn’t struggle much.

Plucking the child from Minato’s arms Harry propped him on one broad shoulder, doing the
same to Choji who blushed while Kiba scrambled onto his back with his arms around his
neck.

“Come on brats. We’re going to the training ground. Let your parents do the boring stuff like
talking .”

All the children wrinkled their noses and Harumitsu turned to wink at Minato before he was
harassed to walk faster.

Minato led them all back into the conference room and ignored Tsume’s shit-eating grin. He
knew she could smell the sex still clinging to his skin because nothing escaped her nose.

Sitting at the table he adjusted his robes to help hide the bulging belly and if Fugaku noticed
the Uchiha head said nothing.

"Welcome back everyone. Shall we continue?"

Chapter End Notes

I really did not expect the response for the Harry/Carlisle pairing haha! I still have to
reply to you guys but just know I read and appreciate all of the reviews!

Btw the new chapter for Rigo/Harry is up as well.

So University has begun again and I'm in my final year. Yay.
Updates may be a bit slower because of that, but feel free to drop prompts to inspire me
during this mental enslavement in a bid to make money in the future.

Thanks for reading!

 Harry/John Wick
Chapter Summary

Regrets and anger make John a very angry boy. It also makes Harry very adept at
dodging bullets. (Harry/John Wick - John Wick 2014)

Chapter Notes
See the end of the chapter for notes

Harry ducked behind a slab of concrete and ignored the stinging pain of a bullet grazing his
arm. His coms were still dead and he might as well be dead too if his opponent had anything
to say about it.

The pistol fire turned into heavy artillery and Harry cursed when the cement pillar was
steadily chipped away from the rapid-fire.

Shit.

What was that saying again? Hell hath no fury as a woman scorned?

Well, obviously they had not met John fucking Wick yet.

“John! Jesus fuck! Are you trying to kill me?!” Harry hollered when he narrowly missed
being shot in the back with a crafty twist then a roll.

Admittedly it was not his best work but then again it was not every day he went up against a
top-tier hitman with countless bodies under his belt and a grudge the size of Manhattan
against Harry.

Admittedly Harry might have deserved being shot at.

“John! Can we talk about this please!”

The gunfire came to a halt and Harry wanted to breathe a sigh of relief but the sound of metal
bouncing against the broken ground destroyed by a too enthusiastic John Wick made Harry
look down, green eyes widening at the sight of the grenade.

“Fuck.”

He sprinted away but the blast still propelled him into the air and over the balcony, the heavy
bulletproof vest absorbing some of the impact of landing on a wooden table below but his
weight shattered it.
“Argh… bloody fuck… ” Harry groaned before rolling over to his side. He definitely broke
something - make that two somethings.

The club was terrifyingly quiet given the seconds before were full of explosions and clips
being emptied in an effort to weed Harry out.

Coughing Harry gagged briefly before stumbling to his feet, combat boots crunching broken
glass and bits of the destroyed table, hand pressing to his side where two of his ribs were
grinding against one another, broken but thankfully not piercing any vitals he needed.

He was used to taking down warlords, greedy politicians, dictators, and the occasional
criminal with a high enough bounty on his head.

He was excellent at his work, one of the best with more A.O.A’s than D.O.A’s because
sometimes he liked justice being done to the big bad rather than having a bullet put between
their eyes.

He was great at his job but his job never accounted for people like John Wick, especially a
John Wick who had a score to settle.

Staying upright was harder than it should have been and in the process of him being thrown
over a two-story balcony, he lost his weapon, not that he used it once against the other man or
retaliated other than blocking the persistent attempts to hit him.

Watching the man dressed in a tailored suit descend stairs never got old, nor did the heat in
his guts ever fail to flare.

Despite being bloodied and hair in disarray John looked radiant. The broken windows
allowing light from the outside to stream in casting a golden background behind the hitman
and to Harry he looked like the angel of death.

The barrel of a gun pressed to his forehead and Harry could only give a dopey smile at the
shorter man.

Around them lay the bodies of men who tried to oppose John earlier, many of them whom
Harry helped to kill before John turned that anger towards him.

John looked dangerous, dark eyes glittering with fury and lips set in a grim line and after ten
years of not seeing one another Harry was almost dizzy by how much he still loved this man.

“Hello, John.”

John scowled deeper and Harry had no time to dodge the pistol smashing against his temple.

...

Consciousness was better than he thought it would be given the fact he was pistol-whipped
by a very angry man after crashing landing and breaking his ribs.
In fact, he felt a bit high.

There was also something wet and squeezing around his cock.

Narrowing his eyes when the remainder of his senses came online slowly he tested the zip
ties his wrists were caught in around the bedpost and his ankles were also tied down with
only enough give so he could bend his knees.

Not to mention a naked John Wick was sitting on his lap, cigarette freshly lit and the orange
ember glowed from an inhale followed by a cloud of smoke upon exhaling and oh… oh !

Swallowing Harry looked down to where John was seated directly on his cock and how
Harry only now noticed he was fully encased in the tight glorious heat of a man he dreamed
about almost daily was a wonder.

“If I say hello to you again will you pistol whip me again?” Harry asked softly and John
simply narrowed his eyes, hips rolling once to draw a gasp from the man under him and at his
complete mercy.

“John you -”

Harry’s jaw clench to stifle a moan when the tightness grew more constricting, the ash falling
from the cigarette was nothing compared to the spine-tingling arousal he felt heating his
bones and engorging his cock, the member swelling inside the channel causing John to
wince.

Harry wanted to touch him, to hold him, to whisper every practiced apology he had recited in
front of the mirror for years, to simply say sorry with more than his words.

“John I -”

“Quiet.” the Boogeyman as the Russians called him murmured and Harry obeyed, waiting
until the cigarette was finished, the butt dropped over the side of the bed.

John savored the taste of nicotine and slowly blew the lungful of smoke out as he tried to get
used to the large intrusion splitting him apart. It had been a spontaneous decision and a part
of him long-buried came alive again when Harry responded to his touch even while
unconscious.

That part of him who only knew Harry, who had craved the other man like an addict to a fix
blazed to life after ten years of remaining dormant.

So he had worked himself open for the first time in a decade, hurried and desperate before
using Harry’s cock as a convenient seat like a King taking his place on a throne.

It hurt and burned but it was delicious having his insides pushed apart to accommodate the
thick cock, of having the long length reach deep inside his guts until John felt as though it
would morph him into something else.

He wanted to be someone else.

Harry in the decade of absence from John’s life matured wonderfully, aged like a fine wine
with broad shoulders and the dark ink decorating his chest and arms. The emblem of his
organization, promises made and delivered.

John brushed a calloused finger over the roman numerals of his birthday inked into Harry’s
skin. The bible scripture was written beneath the numbers in a delicate font that John hated
but loved nonetheless.

MCMLXXII

“Peace I leave with you; my peace I give you.”

He wanted to move, to fuck himself on the cock buried in his belly but there was a pervasive
fear settling in his limbs that he never felt while on the hunt, he hated it but it meant there
was still one person who could inspire such emotion in him.

It meant he still had a weakness.

Smelling salts brought the unconscious man to the living again and John had the pleasure of
watching the emerald eyes flutter open, dark at first before brightening with clear confusion
before they settled on John, pink lips bloodied by a cut opening to say something before
hesitation won over.

John knew what he wanted to say but it was the last thing he wanted to hear. Not after the
pure hell Harry had put him through before Helen thawed his frozen fucking heart somewhat
before she was taken away from him as well.

So John smoked his cigarette and allowed Harry to regain focus, to take stock of the position
he was in before dropping the end of the stick in the trash can over the side of the bed.

“Quiet.” he murmured and like an obedient dog, Harry did exactly that.

John could feel the sharp gaze on him and though he had faced down men bigger and far
more dangerous than Harry Potter-Black could ever be the intensity behind those gems made
John want to squirm.

Licking his lip the hitman pressed a hand to the warm chest, Harry wincing from the pressure
filtering down to his broken ribs but no sound of protest was made only his eyes burning
brighter with something more than love.

Lust.

John raised his hips and the wet sound of a slicked-up cock exiting a drenched hole filled the
room, loud and pervasive and Harry’s hips twitched upwards to chase John’s tightness and
warmth.

Locking eyes with the man who had once held his heart before wrenching it from his chest,
before he left John in a numb limbo where the bodies piled up and up until he could walk up
them like a hiker upon a mountain.
He was a machine during that time, unfeeling and mechanical just waiting for another
mission, another bounty, a silent plea to be lucky enough to get killed.

Harry whimpered as John rode him, slow cants of his hips that made the muscles ripple over
the lightly tanned abdomen, the hand on Harry’s chest was rough in comparison to how soft
and sweet John felt on the inside, a precious interior protected by a rough exterior.

“Haa… John .”

Harry moaned, skin flushed and brow gathering sweat despite John doing all the work and he
should be annoyed but his cock was flushed heavy and Harry filled and touched every part of
him from the inside, the girth making his prick weep pre-cum on the bruised abdomen
below.

He had planned on taking his pleasure and leave Harry unsatisfied and in a stupor but the
longer he fucked himself on the burgeoning cock the more he felt that angry part of himself
slip away, flowing away like his rationality and his composure until he had to bite his lip to
stifle moans of bliss.

“Don’t John, don’t hide from me. Lemme hear please?” Harry begged and honestly at 42
years old John should have been unmoved at such an open expression.

...

Harry nearly popped the zip-ties when John let the wet cock slip from his hole, but he
remembered he was to play the part of a captive and he stopped his magic from breaking the
hard plastic.

John was all hard muscle and dark hair, the happy trail creeping from his naval to the light
fuzz above his cock made Harry want to break the ties so he could swallow him wholly to
nestle against the fuzz.

John was panting, cheeks rosy with heat and despite the discoloration over his body, Harry
would say with unreserved admiration and truth that John Wick was the most beautiful
creature he had ever laid his eyes on.

Swallowing spit that gathered in his mouth he watched as a copious amount of lube escaped
from the now empty hole, some falling to Harry’s wet cock and the rest on the bed.

Harry choked when John turned around, pucker loose and gaping, the hole pink and slick and
- fuck it .

His magic rose and the binds around his wrists snapped inaudibly, John unaware Harry was
now free as he lowered himself down again in reverse cowgirl.

“Hgnn…” he still had several inches to go but Harry was beyond patience, beyond playing
helpless when John was touching him again, fucking him again, when John was within arms
reach and he could hold him once more.
Grabbing him by the hips Harry forced John all the way down until he was once again balls
deep inside, John screaming at the rough treatment and his hole tightened impossibly cause
Harry to grunt.

Licking the gathered sweat from the back of John’s neck Harry bit into the meaty shoulder
and with one hand stroked the most feared assassin known to the underground.

“I’m sorry John. John, I’m so sorry.” Harry mumbled, thumb pressing the underside of the
red tip and John shuddered, grunts choked off in an effort of resistance despite leaking so
much.

“John.”

“Don’t.”

“I didn’t mean to hide from you. Back in France when -”

“I said I don’t want to hear it!”

Harry grunted at the jab to his ribs but managed to wrestle the other man down again and he
used his weight to pin him, the hard meat of his cock pressing to John’s sweet spot until the
man went limp with a muffled groan.

“Back in France when I was injured. When you thought I was dead I had already accepted I
was never going to see you again John. It should have been fatal we both knew that but when
I woke up I was back at HQ and a year and a half had passed.”

His fingers danced over John’s chest, calloused digits brushing over perked nipples before
twisting them harshly, John huffing out a haggard breath in response, his hips thrusting
upward.

Harry nuzzled the damp neck, his hips slowly moving now to help John get accustomed to
the size spreading him open.

“Rehab and therapy were hell, my muscles had degraded to less than half of what they had
been, I had to relearn how to walk, how to hold a fork and a portion of my memory was gone.
Then there was training and reinstatement.”

This felt like heaven.

Grasping John’s leg he raised it and with a sharp snap of his hips he changed the pace, John
digging blunt nails into Harry’s thigh as his other hand clung to the sheets, a refusal to let his
voice be heard only spurred Harry on further to make him.

“I was only allowed to have insignificant intel on you during that time, a prerequisite for me
being allowed to meet you was I completed a certain amount of missions and then when I
finally got the chance to be able to talk to you again I learned you were married.”

John bit his lip until blood welled to the surface when a particularly hard jab to his prostate
made him cum, thick spurts of white staining the bedsheets and he shuddered through the
ordeal, his first orgasm in months since Helen had died.

“So I stepped back. I watched you from afar for a few days wondering if I was selfish enough
to say something, to do something but you looked so happy John, so fucking happy that I - I
left again.”

John gasped, hand clutching the one squeezing his chest where the fingers abused his overly
sensitive nipples until his vision blurred.

“Then on a mission in Pakistan I heard you were widowed and Viggo Tarasov’s kid killed
your dog and I felt glad because now I had a reason to go back and talk to you, to hold you
and tell you how very fucking sorry I was for leaving you John.”

Harry felt tears prickle at his eyes and he buried his face in the freshly washed hair at John’s
nape, nearly scentless shampoo but he could detect a hint of strawberry. His hold turned from
possessive to softly apologetic, and for the first time since taking that bullet back in France,
when he felt it shatter his insides and breathing felt as though his lungs were on fire Harry
felt fear.

Fear that John would deny him the chance of reconciliation, that after this fuck John would
walk away from him and he would be left with nothing once again.

So he turned John onto his back and Harry pulled out, enough so he could lick the purpling
bruises over John's abdomen, tongue dipping into the skin where clotted blood settled then
into John’s naval.

“I’m sorry for being glad you’re no longer hers, that she’s no longer by your side.” he sniffled
and blinked away the tears under John’s sharp observation, those dark eyes he spent countless
hours staring into watched him with a foreign emotion Harry could not recognize.

When he spread him open again around his cock John clung to him, strong legs wrapping
around his waist when Harry finally pushed fully inside.

“John…”

John hummed, words barricaded away by incoherence as Harry fucked into him and filled
him so thoroughly he felt as though he was being consumed, the bed creaking as the frame
shifted where it had been pushed against the wall.

“ John .”

“Mhmff! Augh… fuck !” he came again, the orgasms leaving him so easily now it left his
system in a shock, Harry's cock barrelling past all his defenses and ignoring his need for a
small token of a break just so he wouldn’t fall apart.

“John I’m sorry, I’m so sorry.” he could feel the hot tongue licking his neck where Harry kept
his face buried, tongue replaced by teeth and teeth once again becoming a slick muscle.

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry.”

 John let the mind-numbing pleasure wash over him like a tidal wave on a defenseless beach.

The memories of Harry bleeding out so quickly, too fast for help to be sought out, of their
rushed ‘I love yous’, and John forced to leave knowing he was leaving his lover to die alone
against the enemy flooding the building.

Bad intel on what was to be a simple mission and an extended grace period for them to relax.

Harry had died that day and John had gone numb and somehow Helen broke through his
defenses. It was not the same love he had held for Harry, not nearly the same but it was love.

Where the world was loud and always rushing Helen had been a calm shift in reality he could
be at peace with. They used one another to gain something and both understood their love
had a limit, a space that she would never be able to inhabit because someone else had taken
occupancy there already.

John’s back arch when Harry grew larger and he opened his eyes to stare up into green eyes
so vibrant he once thought they were contacts. He looked up to the image of the man who
had aged without John, a few grey hairs in his beard among the sea of dark hair.

“John I’m - I’m so ah… I’m so sorry I -”

“I know.” he mumbled against the waves battering his defenseless beach, against the
smoldering feeling of lust and the comforting knowledge that after all this time Harry still
loved him.

The fear that he still loved this man back.

“I know .” he repeated once more and he closed his eyes when teardrops landed on his cheeks
and lips, Harry crying so openly for him, because of him.

The heavy cock in him stilled and John was unprepared when Harry moved again, powerful
arms wrapping around his bulk so their chests pressed to one another, nipples rubbing and
flicking the other.

It was too fast, too slow, too much all at once as Harry took him and John dug his nails into
the bare skin until it bled.

The rush of cum being pumped into him felt like gallons with the excess spilling out, a hand
wrapping around his dick to get John off, and Harry rocking his half-hard cock in and out of
him until he shamefully came in seven strokes with Harry's name on his lips and then Harry's
lips on his own.

Chapter End Notes

Someone had requested a Harry/John Wick pairing, I have no idea who you are but wah-
la.

Feed me with your feedback, give me some hope for this semester, I beg.

Oh! And I just noticed Top Harry Sagas hit over 1000 kudos! Yay for that!
 Harry/Danny Williams
Chapter Summary

Danny has a hate and love relationship with being called Harry's woman. (Harry/Danny
Williams - Hawaii 5-O.) A/B/O dynamics.

Chapter Notes
See the end of the chapter for notes

The sound of the party going in full swing downstairs reached even the upstairs bedroom, a
Sinatra classic that Danny loved and no one cared enough to veto the choice of music.

From there Harry could hear James shriek something vaguely related to Gracie, who for all
rights and reason was an incredible older sister even to a brat like James who was three years
younger than she was.

All of their close friends and family from different walks of enforcement, from the military to
the police department with a few special forces and rangers from Harry’s side.

“Nghh!”

The entire Five-O family, both the old team and the new recruits Steve had plucked from the
streets of Hawaii along with their families milled about downstairs and out on the deck

Several coolers of drinks, the bar was fully stocked, food brought by all the guests plus the
dishes done by them in the kitchen. Games for the kids out in the backyard, poker for the
adults and enough presents to rival Santa Clause’s factory piled in the living room waiting to
be opened.

A birthday party and baby shower all in one - Steve’s idea.

“Your guests are going to wonder where you went off to Danny.” Harry murmured and
pressed his thumbs into the dimples in the blond’s lower back to readjust the grip he had on
his waist and already he knew there would be bruising.

Danny groaned and fucked himself back harder onto Harry’s cock making the alpha’s eyes
flutter close briefly from the sensation of tight wet heat enveloping him. It was like his cock
was being hugged.

A channel of slick attached to the most beautiful creature Harry had the pleasure of laying his
eyes on.

“You naughty girl.”

Harry muttered and leaned some of his weight onto the smaller body beneath him, the height
difference between him and Danny never failed to stir some form of protectiveness from him,
alpha biology or otherwise, his cock pressing deeper into Danny until the omega gasped and
his hands clawed at the bed.

“Behave now Danny… slowly like I instructed you to… that’s a good girl…” He praised and
Danny moaned, his ass round and spread so obscenely before Harry.

Danny slowed his movements despite just wanting to fuck himself back onto the thick meat
in him, every backward push dragged against his prostate and the grip on his lower back kept
him coming back and back and back until his vision blurred and he blinked away the tears as
he came.

Harry moaned the same second Danny shuddered with release, the pretty pink hole spasming
around Harry’s cock as he came with Harry watching as the rim fluttered around the
circumference of it, as slick spurted outwards to dribble down to the carpet below.

Danny had the prettiest pussy Harry had ever laid eyes on.

Even before he had sunk his teeth into the detective’s neck, before he had met Gracie and
could call the family of two his own. Back when Danny and he used to tumble in the sheets
on occasion and Harry would spread him open on his fingers just as an excuse to stare at the
gorgeous cunt.

Danny wiggled under him and Harry grunted before resuming his thrusts.

Slow and measured, deep, and filling.

“Ahh… ahhh… alph-mhmm!” Danny clung tighter to the sheets covering the bed.

His vision blurred by tears, cock trapped under his belly and the bed, his stomach too big to
reach under for it but his ass was sensitive enough to bring him to another rolling orgasm,
this one sending a gushing wave of slick from his ass.

“Your pussy is so greedy Danny, look at how wet you are for me, how soaked your cunt is.”

Even with the haze of hormones clouding his brain Danny’s face still burned in mortification
even as he tightened up around the too big cock fucking him.

He shouldn’t be so turned on from words Harry uttered a thousand times in his ear when they
fucked, should not be begging for more from such humiliating things, but here he was,
keening with his ass raised high and slick pouring from his hole in response to them.

“You like this don’t you. Being called a woman. Having your pretty asshole called a pretty
cunt. Don’t you Danny.”

Harry spread the tanned cheeks wider so his view of the tight crease stretched wide around
his length went unobstructed.

“Or should I say you like being called my woman? Answer me.”
Danny bit one of the many pillows surrounding him as a particularly sharp thrust dragged
directly over his prostate, Harry intentionally ignoring the over-sensitive nerve so far until
now. Another jab at it and his vision blurred when he came again.

“Daddy…” Danny whimpered a soft sob escaping him and immediately Harry froze behind
him.

“Danny?”

The sound of his name just made him cry even harder and distantly he could hear Harry
curse, the smooth slide of him pulling out before he was turned around gently and sat up.

“Danny? Danno? Hey baby boy, what’s wrong?” Harry asked and if Danny was not so busy
trying to reign in his stupid emotions amplified by pregnancy hormones he would have told
Harry to relax.

Honestly the alpha was such a worry-wart, always anxious about everything especially since
he discovered Danny was pregnant nine months ago.

He even made Grace take defense classes and had plans to teach her MMA before she got to
college which was years from now.

“Did I hurt you Danno?” Harry asked again and Danny just barely managed to shake his head
when the pleasant pheromones in the room spiked slightly bitter from what he recognized to
be Harry’s anxiety. Warm hands touched him, brushing over his arms, legs and then settling
on his belly.

“Did I hurt the babies? Should I go and call an ambu-”

Danny shook his head again and clung to Harry when the alpha made to get up and the sight
of fresh tears made the taller man whine, a high-pitched sound resembling a canine more so
than a human.

“Danny what should I do? Did I -”

Danny yanked him back down so he kneeled between his legs, his belly low and heavy and
so warm between them with the newest additions to their family. Silently Danny took Harry’s
hand and let him just feel what they created, gentle movements under the skin bumping the
alpha's hand.

“Don’t do anything you idiot.” he grunted, face pressed into his alpha’s shoulder, and now
that the tears had stopped and he could function Danny tsked at how tense the man was now.

“Danny -”

“Shhh. I’m alright you big dolt. You didn’t hurt me.”

“Then why were you crying?”

If anything Harry just sounded more frazzled and Danny groaned into the wonderful smelling
neck, Harry’s scent gland was a thing of wonders, a mixture of alpha pheromones, fresh pine,
and the odd cloying scent of chocolate and dark coffee.

A blush formed along Danny’s cheeks and he squirmed slightly on the bed where his slick
continued to soak the mattress.

“It felt too good.” Danny blurted and Harry blinked.

“I was super turned on and then you just kept saying shit and my orgasms were coming too
quickly and it just felt a bit overwhelming.”

Harry stared at him for a few seconds before deflating, Danny smiling down at the head of
dark hair as he kneaded the back of Harry’s neck where the tension had a tendency of
creeping and remaining.

“You were just too horny, oh thank god.”

“Oi, whose fault do you think it was hm? You know everything is like a livewire these days.”

“Hmm. I’m sorry, I’ll be more careful.”

Danny rolled his eyes and flicked Harry’s ear, a bit irked when his alpha didn’t do so much as
twitch.

“You don’t have to be more careful, if you’re any warier I’ll never get off. Just give me a
minute or so between orgasms yea? I thought my head would explode from all that
continuous cumming.”

From over the curve of his belly Danny watched as Harry’s cock perked back to life, the
girthy thing he had gawked at when they first had sex was now one of his most loveable
possessions. Clenching his ass he crooked a finger at the kneeling alpha, blue eyes electric
with teasing with a grin spreading on his pink lips.

He couldn’t remember the last time he saw his own dick, much less having the flexibility to
jerk himself off with how huge his belly had gotten, but Danny supposed that was what he
got for carrying twins.

“Alpha.” his voice was soft like everything about him was these days.

Gone were the days of compact muscle and the ability to run and tackle perps, now all he
could do was waddle and pray to god his breasts remained almost unnoticeable as they had
when he carried Grace.

Harry was alert, like a dog catching a scent, and when Danny spread his legs wider the man
pressed him back against the mountain of pillows on the bed so Danny was elevated at an
angle before he took his mate in his mouth, a warm cavern surrounding the omega cock.

“Fuck! Harry!” he cried out and Harry hummed around him, fingers teasings the rim of the
loose hole before three plunged inside, and nothing could stop him now, not even the iron
grip on his hair.

Slurping the cute omega cock he swallowed all the dribbling precum that tasted as good as
Danny’s slick, both liquids he could happily get drunk on if Danny allowed him the time to
eat him out beyond 30 minutes.

His fingers fucked into the sopping wetness, each push of the digits sending slick splattering
over Harry’s arm before he focused solely on the enlarged prostate, the sensitive gland
perpetually swollen since Danny hit his third trimester and the doctors cited it was normal
with the influx of hormones rampaging in Danny’s body.

Rolling it under is fingers he sucked harder, tongue slathering the tip of Danny’s cock with
attention until Danny’s grip on his hair tightened further and Harry held his husband with his
one free hand as the omega shook, his voice gaining pitch.

Harry pressed harshly against the omega's sweet spot and with a short scream Danny came,
Harry swallowing the sweetly bitter tinged cum happily as the blond went limp against the
pillows, chest heaving and eyes dazed.

Slipping his fingers out he gathered the accumulated slick and spread it over his straining
erection, green eyes centered on the beautiful figure on the cluster of pillows all bought for
Danny's comfort.

Wrapping his hand around his cock Harry stared down at his mate, at his precious husband
and omega.

Danny was an amazing father before he was an exceptional cop and often broke all standards
of what an omega ‘should be’.

Spread out as he was now, flushed and sweaty, his own cum staining the underside of his
belly and nipples so puffy from the milk laying await underneath, shit... Danny looked ready
to burst, his skin stretched tight and stomach hanging low and all Harry wanted to do was lick
over his stomach until he squirmed.

“Fuck...”

Like this, his Danny looked like the epitome of fertility and he was all Harry’s.

The alpha part of his brain whispered that Danny was his to breed over and over again, to fill
up with as many children as his body could handle, to ensure that he would always be fat
with a child or two so Harry would have the pleasure of watching his baby grow.

Danny would probably hit him if he had to say it out loud, would probably try to roll over
and present his cunt to him if he had to say those words.

Harry groaned and stroked himself faster now Danny was coherent enough again, his blue
eyes sharp and a lazy grin on his lips.

Harry watched as Danny pinched his nipples, the puffy pink nubs barely teased before white
beads of milk gathered at the tip to run down down his chest.
“Alpha... look what you did to me.” Danny pouted and Harry’s gaze followed the stray hand
that rubbed over the burgeoning belly.

“Fucked me so hard I got knocked up.” Harry swallowed reflexively, eyes focused on
Danny’s hand as it caressed his stomach, middle so huge compared to his short frame it
looked like a burden.

“You did this to me Alpha. Shoved your huge cock in me and bred my pussy full of your
children mhmm...”

Harry’s gaze flickered up to Danny’s mouth, that obscene thing Harry watched countless
times wrap around his cock and cheeks puff out as he took and swallowed Harry’s cum.

His breath was growing ragged and when Danny motioned for him to come closer, pink lips
falling open and a playful tongue hanging out to show Harry just where he wanted him to go.

Climbing onto the bed he kept his weight off the blond below him, a balance he perfected
during these nine months.

Lowering himself down Harry moaned softly as his cock slowly sank down into Danny’s
throat, all ten inches taken in with only the slightest of gagging.

Fucking into the suffocating crevice the alpha listened to each gag and stifled choke, Danny’s
hand fondling his balls as the next rubbed a finger along his asshole before Danny pressed the
slick wet digit in and Harry went trembled under the weight of his impeding orgasm, the
suction from Danny's sinful mouth and the teasing finger in his hole.

“Mhm! Shit... Danny I’m going to - ugh!”

His cock twitched once, then twice, before he came with a low groan, body shaking as Danny
continued to lazily finger him, his throat working around the heavy length as Harry poured
his load down his throat.

Pulling out carefully Harry drew Danny into a kiss the second he could, the bitter tang of his
cum on Danny’s tongue, lips swollen from the semi-rough treatment of having Harry down
his throat.

“I love you.” Harry mumbled, nose dragging over the stubbled jaw to settle in the crook of
Danny’s neck where the cotton candy sweet pheromones emitted.

Danny drew his head up and into another kiss “I love you too. Now help me up and let’s take
a shower before -”

“Danny! Harry! Where did you guys disappear off... to... oh.” Steve trailed off and behind
him Dr. Emma Okino squeaked and hide her face.

There was a moment of silence before a pillow hit Steve in the face, the man too stunned at
the naked bodies before him to even dodge or catch it.
 “Are you trying to prove my theory that you were raised by animals McGarrett? What’s the
matter with you?!”

“I uh - I was just trying to -”

“Were you dropped off a balcony as a baby? Do you not know the meaning of privacy? Get
out of here!”

Emma with a hand over her eyes dragged away Steve who was still stunned, the woman
giving a rushed apology before closing the door and it took all of three seconds before Harry
burst out laughing, hands wrapped around a grumbling Danny.

“He’s an animal I swear. All of these years as his best friend and the man still hasn’t learned
basic manners. I’ve failed as an educator.” Danny mumbled but happily accepted the kisses
Harry peppered him with.

“Your cousin is an animal Harry. An animal and I - ahh ...” Danny’s toes curled, his hand
cupping the back of Harry’s head when the alpha licked one of his nipples.

“Again?” he asked, words already slurred and pupils dilating with his vision already
beginning to blur the longer Harry continued to suckle on his breasts, milk pouring into the
alpha’s mouth as he kneaded the tit.

“Mhmm.” Harry rumbled.

Danny’s back arched when he was rolled onto his side and Harry pushed inside once more,
cock sliding easily in.

Danny gave a shrill moan as Harry pressed in to the hilt, one hand cradling his belly and the
next flicking a leaking nipple.

“ Alpha ...”

...

Downstairs Emma giggled when Steve dragged her off to a remote part of the Evan-
William’s home, his shocked stupor gone and all that remained was one horny man.

Steve hitched up her dress and lifted her off the ground to press her back to the wall of the
garage, his hand sliding her panty to the side and the broad tip of his heat rubbed against her
wetness before pushing inside of her.

She would have to thank Harry and Danny after the party ended for this.

Chapter End Notes

So it was my birthday yesterday and ironically I actually forgot about it for half of the
day lol. So I decided to gift you guys with this chapter!

Dr. Emma Okina is the veterinarian who cared for Eddie. Out of all the women Steve
liked she was the best.

As always, feed me with feedback. It fuels my motivation to commit to my

responsibilities believe it or not.
 Harry/Stacker Pentecost
Chapter Summary

"In this world and the next." Stacker promised. (Harry/Stacker Pentecost - Pacific Rim
2013)

Chapter Notes
See the end of the chapter for notes

Mako’s young life so far was filled with happiness then terror and sadness before light
dominated it again. Her original parents, her mother who birthed her, and father who sired her
had been the only happiness she knew during her earliest years before the world grew dark
and everything crumbled.

She did not want to die that day and so whatever God that watched over her ensured her
survival, the human hand reaching out to her, warm brown eyes, and a kind smile.

She had taken the hand and held on tight, so afraid that if she let go she would be plunged
back into the nightmare of the huge thing chasing her, of its teeth threatening to tear her open
and eat her and -

Stacker Pentecost had been her lifeline.

Harrison ‘Harry’ Potter was his.

Fundamentally at 13 years old, she understood what a soul bond was, the books she had read
spoke of it as something heavenly, beyond human understanding and maybe it was. Watching
Stacker and Harry move together it felt at times as if they were one person. Watching them
fight from thousands of miles on a screen - it was beautiful.

The greatest duo to ever board and battle in a Jaegar.

Until Harry got sick.

Mako rewatched the video feed from inside Coyote Tango the day in Tokyo when Onibaba
razed the city and killed millions along with her parents. She had heard the story of how
Stacker and Harry killed Onibaba, but she had never seen it happen.

Stacker had watched it for the first time since the incident three years ago as he was knocked
unconscious when Onibaba ambushed them, its massive bulk slamming into Coyote Tango’s
side, his side, and knocking him unconscious. Their Drift process was tossed into disarray
and Harry being the only conscious pilot took the onslaught of controlling the Jaegar, the
neural overload causing a nosebleed within the first minute.
Jaeger's were not meant to be controlled alone, pilots had died before in a much shorter
timespan than it took Harry to effectively stop the Kaiju from its rampage and killing Mako,
yet he remained conscious long enough to ensure Stacker was okay.

The solo piloting for 15 minutes and 18 seconds caused a rapid acceleration of cancer cells to
build and for two years Harry manipulated their soul bond to hide him being sick from
Stacker.

Mako had known, several times she caught her adoptive father hunched over the toilet, and
each time she kept it a secret because she owed Harry that much.

Mako watched the feed again and again of how Harry saved not only her but Stacker as well.

For two years Harry hid his illness from his soul bond and husband before his body gave out
seconds after disconnecting from the drift after a battle recently in what remained of
Chicago.

He was declared defective. A term Stacker growled out for those present to repeat again if
they dared, but Harry accepted.

The PPDC still wanted Stacker to fight, soul bond be damned.

Mako proudly watched as her father told the higher-ups to fuck themselves on a Kaiju dick.

So Mako lived on the base with her two retired fathers. Both training new recruits about
Jaegar usage or just combat in general. She learned early on that Harry was special, an ability
that transcended ‘a lucky guess’.

He was what her grandmother used to call an Uranaishi .

A seer, a diviner.

There were just some things he knew that he shouldn’t, which was why she supposed Stacker
had been so damned pissed Harry had continued on with operating a Jaegar because he must
have seen something. To be able to manipulate a drift connection should have been
impossible, but Harry did it for two years flawlessly.

“Mako! Dinner!”

She spun around then looked up to the bridge where Harry waved down at her, a hand
pushing his round glasses back up his nose. He had seemed bigger than life when they met, a
natural bulk like Stacker possessed, an aura of friendliness that no one was fooled by after he
crushed the windpipe of a recruit, broke his arm, and just to further prove his point unloaded
a bullet into the man’s leg.

Rule number one when Harry Pentecost was around - never point a loaded weapon at
Stacker.

“Coming dad!”
 ...

Holding out his hand he smiled when Mako took it in her smaller one. He still remembered
with perfect clarity seeing her tiny figure running and dodging around rubble trying to evade
Onibaba. She was growing into the little young lady Stacker wanted her to be with the perk
of Harry indulging her so-called ‘tom-boyish’ ways.

Rubbing his chest he paused when Mako stopped, her face holding an expression he often
saw on Stacker’s, and honestly, even if he tried he could not stop the giggle that left him.

“You and your father are so much alike. Sometimes I swear you really came from us both.”
Harry murmured, thumb pressing between Mako’s eyebrows to smooth out the crease.

And just like his husband her expression turned more mulish.

“You’re short of breath?” she asked, and for such a tiny thing Harry mused his daughter
certainly had an imposing figure.

“Hmm.”

Following after her Harry obediently sat on a bench along the deck, Mako hopping up after
smoothing out her skirt under her.

He let the silence reign, a comfortable thing that was only broken by the ever-present hum of
machinery and humans that populated the Shatterdome. Tilting his head down to stare at his
daughter, Harry smiled when she peaked up.

“One day Mako... you will be all your father will have.”

Seeing the hurt in her eyes and how her expression crumbled physically pained him and he
tugged her in close. Their daughter was a smart girl and while they could not take
responsibility for her genetics and most of her upbringing, the last three years had been
wonderful.

“Hey, hey, hey. I don’t mean now , in fact it won’t be for a while but - Mako.”

Tilting her head up he could see her face Harry smiled and pressed a kiss to her forehead.

“When I’m gone you have to make sure he doesn’t get consumed by duty yea? You know
how he gets when the pressure piles up.” he pet her hair, the tresses kept neck length and
though Mako sniffed she nodded.

“He gets grumpy and doesn’t smile.” she mumbled and Harry chuckled.

“So I need you to make sure he smiles at least twice a day. I need you to take care of him for
me Mako. I know this is a lot to ask for but -”

“I’ll do it.”

Her face held such determination Harry was momentarily stunned before smiling.
“I know you will Mako-Taco.”

He laughed aloud when she pouted at the nickname both she and Stacker cringed at but it was
worth seeing them both so amused at his silliness.

“Come on before your father comes looking for us. I don’t feel like getting scolded today.”

...

Stacker gripped the dark hair when Harry bit his nipple, the bud already perked and had long
since grown sore from Harry’s continuous sucking, the other pinched and tugged as he
swapped between them at uneven intervals.

He couldn’t even protest, not when three of Harry’s fingers were making a mess of him on
the inside, cock jerking each time they so much as brushed over his prostate, a healthy
amount of precum dribbling from the tip and down his length.

“I’m… fuck… I’m ready, so just - mhmff.” biting his lip Stacker tried to muffle his sounds,
metal walls or not he was not about to do something so indecent.

Harry ignored him as he always did, hot mouth wrapped around the wet tip of Stacker’s cock,
tongue teasing the underside.

The dual stimulation made him cling to Harry, blunt nails digging into the pale skin of
Harry’s back as his husband took in more and more of his cock with each bob of his head.
His cry was silent when he came down Harry’s throat, hole clenching around the three fingers
perverting his insides and the second Stacker could feel his feet again he stepped back, limp
cock slipping from Harry’s mouth.

Licking his lips Harry tugged the drawstring of the sweats and followed behind Stacker who
climbed onto the bed and like a model of perfection he arched his back, legs spread obscenely
wide.

No one would know Stacker Pentecost as he did, they would never see this side of him, the
filthy side who begged with his eyes before he begged with his mouth, whose gaze smoldered
with enough heat to ignite Harry’s own fire.

Stripping off the teeshirt he dropped it over the side of the bed, his hands running over the
smooth rich skin, muscles honed from years as a Ranger and then Jaegar training. He wanted
to eat him out, to shove his tongue as deep as he could inside that tempting hole until Stacker
came again -

Rubbing the curved cock between the two round cheeks, the tip catching on the loosened rim
and the contrast always made Harry giddy.

How someone like him managed to flirt, fuck, fall in love, marry and remain together with
such a phenomenal man like Stacker was still lost upon Harry after so many years.

Stacker rubbed himself against Harry, his hole glistening as it leaked lube and each time
Harry’s tip caught on the rim he moaned, body inviting Harry to do more, to ruin him on the
inside with his cock.

“Stack… scream for me will you.”

He gave him no time to question the request, Harry aligning himself with the slightly agape
pucker before canting his hips forward, his moan dwarfed by Stacker’s wail, his body
trembling under Harry’s.

He fit perfectly within him, the curvature of his cock nestling in Stacker’s deepest parts while
his walls parted then hugged Harry, slick with lube and so very warm as they squeezed and
dilated around him trying to coax him to cum.

Pulling out Stacker rolled over onto his back and held his arms out, the normally strict visage
blurred with pleasure, brown eyes blown wide and chest heaving with exertion. Harry went
willingly, like a magnet drawn always towards him, both groaning when he slid back in with
a wet squelch.

“ Harry… Harry… Oh god, fuck !”

Harry drilled him, relishing in the filthy sounds their bodies made while connected, the slaps
of skin on skin, the bed creaking under their combined movements. Stacker tasted like the
wine he had for dinner, red and rich, a luxury given the state of the world.

“Ahh! Ahh! Ahgh!”

He silenced his cries with another kiss, tongues fighting for dominance as Stacker’s hole
submitted to Harry’s cock, allowed him to plunge in balls deep and fill him up over and over
again.

Breaking the kiss Harry pushed one of Stacker’s legs to the side and up, the angle giving him
a tiny bit more depth and it was enough to push his husband over the edge, the second load
decorating his chest like war paint and Harry came soon after.

Three more pumps and he groaned low, cock twitching in the tight walls that milked him for
all he was worth causing Stacker to groan under him, tongue licking at Harry’s jaw until he
was kissed again, until Harry lazily stirred his cum filled insides a few more times before he
lost the hardness and even then he remained within him.

“I love you Stack.” Harry murmured and Stacker blinked open sleepy eyes, a beautiful smile
curving at his full lips.

“I love you too Harrison Pentecost.”

Stacker felt numb.

“I’ll do it. I’ll pilot Striker Eureka alone.”

He turned to stare at the one consistent person he held in his life since before his sister’s
death, the one who went through hell and back with him, who saved him, cared for him,
memories created that he would cherish until the end of time and -

The room was silent after the declaration, no one able to voice their opinions, and looking at
Mako he saw her divert her gaze, there was denial but also acceptance meaning she knew
about this suicidal plan.

“No.” his voice though soft echoed in the conference room and Harry’s expression softened.

“Stacker -”

“I said no!”

“You don’t have a choice Stacker. Why sacrifice two young and healthy pilots who can be
used on future missions when you can use a defective and dying one.”

He knew Harry did not mean to be cruel, he was just stating the facts but it hurt to hear him
speak about himself in that way as if he was already dead. Clenching his fist Stacker turned
to the gathered people, personnel, and pilots alike.

“Get out. Now!” he bellowed and anyone who knew Stacker’s anger scurried out
immediately, Mako included, and only when they were alone did he turn back to Harry who
stood calmly in the corner.

“I won’t let you.” he repeated and Harry only smiled before making his way over to where
Stacker stood, Harry’s hand was cool against his cheek as it usually was these days, his body
finding it hard to regulate his temperature now and more than often he was bundled up in a
jacket.

“Darling…”

“Let me co-pilot with you, our chances of survival are better that way and - Harry you can’t
-”

You can’t leave me.

“You’re needed here. What about Mako and the rest of humanity. The UN is full of useless
idiots and Mako is still too young to take command.”

Stacker gripped Harry’s shirt.

“I’m dying my love. It hurts . The medicine is barely working anymore and I… I thought I
would have been ready but -”

Harry pressed their foreheads together and Stacker felt him shudder, felt his fear ripple and
resonate with his own.

“I saw my death the day we met Mako, the day we found our daughter was the day I saw my
own death and our victory. The happiest and saddest day ever.” he laughed despite the tears
tracking down his face and Stacker blinked away his own.

“I don’t wanna die Stacks. I don’t wanna leave you and Mako. I want to stay with you - I
want to live .”

It was a plea that would never be answered and Stacker hugged Harry just as tight, hugged
him tighter than ever, and from the conference room the face of Striker Eureka stared back at
him.

“I love you so much Stacker, so much, more than I’ve ever told you.”

Stacker pressed his face into Harry’s neck and inhaled his unique scent, several lungfuls in an
effort to not forget. This was the first time in years he cried, not since he found out about
Harry’s cancer and he raged and ranted before crying in the bathroom behind a closed and
locked door.

His head hurt and his nose was stuffy but most importantly his heart was about to be broken.

“I love you too Harry.”

Mako was 23 years old now. Thirteen years passed since they saved her and adopted her and,
25 years since he had known Harry.

“We have to drift once more. I need to show you, no, I want to show you everything.”

Stacker ignored the curious gazes of the people standing outside the door who observed his
hand locked securely in Harry’s, their feet taking them directly to the research lab where
Hermann and Newton waited with two Pons headsets.

“It has been a pleasure serving with you sir.” Hermann held his hand out and Harry chuckled,
shaking it before pulling the man in for a brief hug, the overly polite scientist sputtering but
not refusing.

Newton accepted the clap on the shoulder before he herded Hermann from the room, the door
locking behind them. Turning back to Stacker Harry smiled softly at his husband, taking in
the uncertainty and the displeased twist of his lips. Yanking him non too kindly towards him
he cupped Stacker’s face and he relished in the gasp.

Stacker whimpered into the kiss, their hands fumbling for the belts and buttons of their
clothing, Harry laughing into the kiss before they descended onto the floor, Hermann was
nice enough to provide a mattress at Harry’s request.

Easing two fingers in Harry hummed “You’re still loose from this morning.” he teased and
Stacker grunted.

“You did make it a habit to have sex every day for the last two -” he trailed off, eyes
widening as the realization hit him and Harry apologized softly but gave him no time to get
angry, his cock already sliding in.
Stacker gripped Harry’s shoulder as he pushed in, the Pons system turned on the second he
was rooted in.

“Chase the rabbit Stack.”

They always told the recruits to never chase the rabbit, to just accept the memories and never
linger on a specific one but like this with Harry’s memories, both past and future laid bare
like open doors Stacker took his time in observing each.

Their bodies rocked against one another Stacker’s laugh at the memory of their first date, a
mess that ended up in them having sex in the dormitory, too inexperienced to know what to
do but just wanting to touch one another, a reedy cry left him as Harry assaulted his prostate,
cum landing on Harry’s chest below where he laid as Stacker rode him.

Clear echos of the life he lived. Meeting Mako, when she first called them both dad,
celebrated birthdays, funerals for fallen comrades, each time they made love, the victories
they shared and then -

“You have to keep going Stack. You have to see what I did, so you’ll know.”

Stacker forced himself to continue, to keep chasing the rabbit down the long hallway of
memories, the continuous onslaught on his body not stopping even when the memories did.

He lost track of time. Of everything that was not Harry. The Pons system recording the
seconds they shared now, his face, his smile, his laugh, the grunts and moans, the soft curses
he made, and the reverence of Stacker’s name being called.

“It’s okay Stack. It’ll be okay.”

Harry kissed away the tears and the action only spurred more to fall.

This would be the last time, the final moment they would have alone together like this.

How could this be fine? How could his world be okay again after Harry?

“You can’t leave me… you can’t leave me Harry - w-what am I going… what w-will I -”

Stacker stared into the brilliant hues of green above him, their positions flipped and Harry
pressed a kiss to his lips and the emotions of fearful/apologetic/happy/angry/love all flowed
into Stacker until he was left breathless. Like this, he felt everything just as he saw
everything Harry would forever be imprinted in the Pons system, a small moment in time
Stacker would cherish.

Harry began to move again desperation/love filling Stacker as much as Harry’s cum did. He
clung to him, red lines down Harry’s back and bruises on his own skin from the iron tight
grip Harry held onto him with.

This was goodbye and Stacker wanted everything Harry had to give.
Love bites turned bloody and the pounding of the cock reaching what felt like his guts. It hurt
but also felt too good to describe.

This was goodbye and all Stacker could feel down to his core was love on a continuous loop,
an infinity of never-ending reel of love and he sobbed as came again, the kiss no less sweet
despite the tears and sweet, no less precious when there was another rush of cum being
emptied in him.

“I love you, in this world and the next. We’ll find one another again Stack. I swear it.”

He didn’t know if Harry said those words aloud or not, his mind and body chasing the high
he never wanted to end because when it ended Harry would be gone from his life forever.

Mako’s life was bright with two fathers who loved and cherished her. They taught her how to
fight, how to survive in a world that pit her against literal monsters and she would always be
grateful for everything they did for her.

Her life was bright but now the light was creeping away no matter how tight she tried to cling
to it.

She squeezed her father’s hand but he only had eyes for the man on the screen.

This was the first time in 10 years Harry donned the battle suit, the last time he would fight in
a Jaeger and, despite the fear she knew he must be feeling he looked happy, hands flying over
the controls and looking at ease in what would be his coffin.

“Neural handshake completed.” Hermann announced but Mako and Stacker could not look
away from the screen that showed the inside of the cockpit.

Striker Eureka moved, it’s arms stretching and legs lifting. Mako looked down when her hand
was squeezed and she held it back. No one said anything about the nosebleed they saw on the
screen and Harry ignored it.

Cherno Alpha, Crimson Typhoon, and Gipsy Danger followed behind after Striker Eureka,
the two former Jaeger’s and the pilots saved by Harry’s foresight. Chuck and Raleigh
operating Gipsy Danger instead of Mako as she had wanted.

“Stack…”

Harry wheezed, the helmet torn off and dropped so he could see the two most important
people in his life better as he drifted down into the breach where several creatures stood on a
cliff watching as the Jaeger descended. His face was a mess but he managed to smile and
grinned when Mako smiled back.

“I love you Mako-Taco.” he mumbled as the light flashed red, the timer counting down.

“I love you too daddy.” she swore she would not cry because she had to be strong for her
father but - Stacker pulled her into a hug and she hid her face in his chest.
 “Stack…”

Stacker blinked the tears from his eyes. “In this world and the next.”

Harry smiled and the light of the bomb exploding obscuring Stacker’s vision of him before
the feed turned dark.

Chapter End Notes

So I'm not yet resurrected, teaching is coming to an end next week but I still have
several assignments due as well as upcoming exams, but I had written this chapter a
while back so I decided to post it.

Not a happy ending but I hoped you enjoyed it at least.

The ending of this makes me want to write another chapter where Stacker is happy
because damn, that man needs some happiness in his life.

I hope everyone is doing well and staying safe in this mess!

 Harry/Carlisle Cullen pt2
Chapter Summary

Continuation of Harry/Carlisle (chapter 24).

Chapter Notes
See the end of the chapter for notes

Memories of his childhood were blurry with vague impressions of nature and the wind, the
crackling of open fires, and the alarmed squawking of chickens.

As silly as it was he remembered the hens and the cockerels better than he did the faces of his
parents.

Unlike his memories of nature and the rivers that ran along the village, of the heat from the
fire and the smell of chicken dung he could not remember what his parents looked like.

Their faces long since became inconsequential. Two other humans without meaning along
with his many other human siblings whose bones were forever lost to time and whom Harry
had never taken the time to acknowledge.

He had done many things he might perhaps say toe the lines of morality. Experiments on both
himself and humans to see what made him tick as opposed to the more fragile counterparts.
His first and last success in turning a human into a vampire ended with him removing the
head from the newborn’s shoulders when it wiped an entire village clean and infected half the
occupants.

It was then he decided that unless controlled, newborns were not dangerous per se but frankly
annoying little pests.

He had no need for a companion he had to train when he could easily get a dog.

For thousands of years Harry lived his life out in isolation. The occasional vampire or shifter
bed partner to keep his sanity but his experimentations with his blood, with what made him
so special occupied most of his time until he learned every little thing about himself.

About his blood, teeth, molecules, atoms, genealogical codes, why he possessed such human-
like qualities while the new breed of vampires were such horrible mistakes .

A sub-species of what he was, created by others like him but not like him . Fellow day-
walkers who took fancy in creating rather than discovering. Six of them born hundreds of
years apart with Harry being the first and the only one with the unique ability he possessed.
Ethical was never a part of his vocabulary, and his morals while firm, were far and in-
between.

Immortality left very little for him to feel sympathetic for, after all, humans were greedy little
worms whose egos often outweighed their purpose. Races claiming superiority when in the
end they were all equal.

Equal in the sense of being food and such a tiny lifespan it was no wonder they bred faster
than their intellect developed.

In all his five thousand years of living never once did he fall for a human.

Never did he allow one to mark him until his skin reeked of their scent, until their odor clung
to his flesh like an overbearing perfume.

The boy before him wore a mulish expression, the atypical golden eyes of a turned vampire
glaring at him and Harry fought down the urge to remove his head from his shoulders and
watch his body burn on a pyre, Carlisle’s anguish be damned.

“Are you deaf or just incapable of answering a simple question child.” he asked and behind
the obstinate boy there was a wave of nervous shifting Harry ignored.

He would deal with the others later but for now, his attention remained on the silent teenager
before him.

“Boy -”

“I am not your boy and you are not the so-called Master of this house. I don’t have to answer
to some perverted idiot with a complex.”

Edward snapped, eyes rolling before moving to run past the strange vampire standing in the
middle of his living room, the air still heavy with the musk of sex and blood, but no matter
how weird of a vampire he was Edward was one of the fastest and -

His eyes widened half a second before he was backhanded, the force of the hit twisting his
neck causing the bones to snap under the force, Edward’s neck contorting in a fashion a
human would have surely died from.

“Urk --!”

Edward’s body flew past the remainder of the Cullen's as he crashed into the wall to land
outside several feet away from the house. Gasping wetly he coughed up accumulated venom,
bones grinding as they fixed themselves until his neck was no longer broken.

It hurt, a pain he never experienced since his turning by Carlisle but now it hurt.

Scrambling backward away from the vampire who stepped through the rubble of what
remained of the wall Edward no matter how much he tried could not get his feet to work
under him.
“Do not think for one second boy my hesitation to kill you is in any way a form of
compassion or sympathy. The simplicity of your continued existence so far is because of
Carlisle, but continue to test my patience and I shall show you exactly how vulnerable your
kind truly is.”

Harry wrapped his hand around the neck of the frozen child, pupils a pinprick in the sea of
gold and the primal part of Harry who relished in the hunt, that loved the scent of fear and
prey enjoyed the trembling of the body in his grasp.

Edward clawed at Harry’s wrist as he applied more pressure.

“More children like you can always be created. An insignificant blip in the universe with a
mouthful of what you call venom. My peace of mind is much more important than his silly
adoration for you child. So I shall ask once more, and once more only.”

Harry felt the bones under his fingers break causing the vampire to howl, behind him was
movement and urgent hushed whispers, the earth moving slightly before it shifted back in
place as if someone was pushed back.

“Why do you smell like a human boy.” Harry asked slowly.

Edward snarled, feet kicking as he was lifted from the ground and the pressure to his bones
increased, the tendons tearing as sharp claws penetrated the hard skin and venom seeped out
from the puncture wounds.

He was going to die.

After suffering through the Spanish Influenza, of receiving a new chance at life after his
mother died and Carlisle saved him, he was now going to die because he refused to open his
mouth and just answer.

“B- Be-”

“Harry!”

The pressure decreased and Harry turned to stare at Carlisle who pushed past his gathered
family, a cardigan over his naked torso and a pair of opened jeans, his hair in disarray and
skin still flushed and human-like, the bite mark on his neck raw still and the sight of it made
Harry want to ravish the man again.

“Carlisle my love you should be resting.” Harry murmured.

The Cullen patriarch looked between his husband and his adopted son, golden eyes flickering
between the two before they settled on Harry.

“The human is named Isabella Swan. A teenage girl Edward fancies because he is unable to
hear her thoughts and her blood appeals to him. He believes she is his singer.” Carlisle
confessed.
Harry tilted his head and turned his red gaze back to the struggling boy whose gaze held
more fear than stubbornness now.

“I assure you child, this conversation between you and I is not over. This perverted idiot with
a complex will have words with you without interference soon enough.”

...

Carlisle sat beside Harry on the couch, his family gathered on the opposite side of the room
in the assorted seats and for the first time in such a very long time he felt a divide with his
pseudo kin.

In everything they did, they came to an agreement, more than likely him being the final factor
in the decision, but never before have they ever sat apart from him, away from him with fear
licking at their skin and distrust shadowing their eyes.

“I know the events of today may appear as a shock and I apologize for having you witness
such an indecent action without explanation and…”

Harry brushed the fingertips of his left hand to the fine hairs along Carlisle’s nape as he let
his mate’s babbling take back burner to his attention. Knowing the younger vampire he
would try to make his little family feel comfortable in the already enacted changes, he would
try to sway them and make peace with them because he cherished each of the turned
immortals.

Harry could care less if they wiped their asses on the doormat before leaving for good.

If they did decide to stay no amount of compassion from Carlisle could hide them from his
wrath if they fiddled with his carefully laid plans and patience. He would sooner rip them
apart and burn them where they all sat on the other side of the table than have one moment of
inconvenience to his plans.

Studying each whelp Harry observed the smallest of the females first, like the rest she carried
nervous energy around her, fingers twitching every now and then and her eyes would dart
over to him only to lower when she caught his gaze.

From his recollection some turned vampires carried special abilities, powers that made them
get an inflated ego and sense of superiority over others. Like children showing their new toys
and hoping the others would be jealous.

Most of his time was spent away from both humans and vampires, no interactions unless
necessary. He barely had tolerance for what could be considered his own kind, much less
sniveling creatures who were only compelled to breed and destroy like walking parasites with
intellectual capabilities.

The largest of the group was tensed as if he was ready to fight, jaw set rigid and hand curled
around the blond female’s wrist. So not ready to fight, but run with her. She avoided his gaze
and crept closer to what Harry could only assume was her mate.
The vampire he was most interested in from the group however was the one who sat straight
like a soldier, posture loose and neck bared slightly. Unlike the others he had a certain air
about him, one Harry could see potential in if carved properly.

The other two, the boy Edward and the woman with who Carlisle shared a bed, Esme - he
itched to kill them.

It did not take a seer to see the trouble the boy would cause with his fantastical notion that the
human he fancied was better off as a human than a vampire. He held some idiotic idea it
would preserve her innocence if she remained human.

If he was a romantic he would have gone so far as to say Edward was doing it for her and his
intentions were pure, but from what Harry was told it was more curiosity and a deep sated
need to possess something he believed others would want to covet.

This was not love because he barely knew the girl.

His fascination with the human ‘Bella Swan’ was nothing more than greed and curiosity
morphed into desire.

Carlisle shivered under his touch and for a moment Harry was distracted by the subtle
movement, a ripple of desire shifting in his gut and if his little mate wouldn’t damn him to
purgatory and back he would have taken him on the touch for a second time, audience or not.

“Things will not change much, we can all still live here together, happily as we did before.
You will all attend high-school and I will continue my work, Esme will still be here as she
always has been and I-”

“No, she will not.” Harry softly interjected and Carlisle’s words came to a tumbling halt.

“What do you mean?”

“I mean she will leave here within a week’s time. I will tolerate your so-called children, hell,
I will even accustom myself to the addle-brained fool of that -” Harry pointed a clawed finger
at Edward who flinched.

“But I will not tolerate her . She will leave here on her own two feet or I will remove her
permanently.”

When he had taken Carlisle up to the bedroom his first conscious thought was the air smelled
of intimacy, that there was more than bed-play being done and somehow his mate, the person
he gave his trust to had split his heart in two and shared what was solely Harry’s with
another.

But upon inspection, it became obvious the clothes in Carlisle’s closet were what carried the
smell.

Esme’s scent clung to every article of clothing in the walk-in space the odor was nearly
oppressive, like a dog marking its territory. This was not a simple unconscious play of
possessiveness, she was aware and without a doubt every action was intentional.
“Harry…” Carlisle bit his lip and lowered his gaze when red eyes bored into his.

Turning to the woman who sat between Edward and the other female he recalled Carlisle call
Rosalie, she looked like a marble statue, still and pretty. There was no shock, no outrage, just
calmness.

“You will leave this house, this town, this country within a week or I will kill you.”

Maybe it was the flippant way he said it or the fact he gave her the ultimatum of moving as
far away as possible from Carlisle but her jaw twitched and there was the barest shift in her
demeanor.

The monster under the calm.

“Am I understood?”

It was not a question of if she would obey, or if Esme had a choice in the matter.

The answer to the question was as clear and direct as the order and Harry watched as her jaw
clenched, hands curling tightly into a fist but the nod was all he needed before he dismissed
her from his attention.

Watching Carlisle putter around the house was awfully charming and out of the five
‘children’ belonging to the Cullen's only Jasper remained behind to help the blond clean the
house from top to bottom.

The others crept behind Esme who optioned to stay in a hotel for the remainder of the week,
her belongings tossed into three suitcases and the Harry tossed the clothes she had rubbed her
scent on into several black garbage bags.

He wanted to throw them away, Carlisle decided it would be best to donate the items.

Rolling his eyes at the memory Harry tilted his head in time as Carlisle bent over, the new
jeans stretching wonderfully over his ass and the new white v-neck sweater hugged his
frame.

Jasper, Harry realized did not hold much sentimentality or maybe it was because of how
logical he appeared that the transition from Esme to Harry did not affect him as much as it
did the others.

For all the others had glared, grumbled, and snarled Jasper had yet to do anything but bare his
neck and stand at attention.

Petting Carlisle’s soft hair hours later he pressed a kiss to the cool skin of his mate, a very
human-like heartbeat echoing in his ears, much slower than a human’s but the rhythmic
thump-thump was there nonetheless.
Under the curious gaze of Jasper; Harry sliced open his wrist with a claw and Carlisle fed on
him, the sensation of having his blood drawn was just shy of pleasurable, Jasper’s gaze sharp
and focused as it lowered with the descent of red tumbling down Carlisle’s chin.

“Do you miss it?”

Harry asked the moment the vampire on his lap was down, the feeding of his blood never
failed to draw the other under but -

Harry placed a gentle hand under the soft material of the sweater to lay it over the cool skin
of Carlisle’s belly.

But this time it was not solely his little mate’s propensity to fall asleep directly after a meal.
The tiny life growing in him would be part of the cause until it was born, as small as it may
be it would continuously leech energy and nourishment from its ‘mother’ as a human baby
would.

The gentle thumps of the sluggish heartbeat would aid in that.

A vampire’s body was not meant to carry life, all organs including the heart frozen in the
stages of rigor-mortis. Rotten and useless.

Autopsies of his kind carried out over countless years, unknown vampires he used as
experiments to further his research, faceless things he burned when their slight use
extinguished.

Humans were parasites but their bodies were optimal for carrying life, breeding like rats with
only intelligence among some to save them. They were frail and weak, life over the moment
they came screeching into the world, but they held the gift of creation.

So he gathered them as he did the vampires. Experimented on them until he found a

surprising solution, and then another discovery when he met Carlisle for the first time.

A link.

Jasper tore his eyes away from the sleeping father figure he respected to the man that came
and turned the ideal family they had pretended to be over onto its head.

“Do I miss it?” he asked warily, still unsure about the strange man who Carlisle bowed his
head to so easily and who made the hairs on his nape stand, every fiber in his cold body
screaming at Jasper to submit or run.

“Human blood. The taste of it.” Harry elaborated almost lazily, hands still petting and
caressing Carlisle. He watched as Jasper swallowed, Adam's apple bobbing and the stoic
expression fell to give way to something akin t panic but not quite.

There was something decidedly amusing about twisting and removing moral grounds from
under people.

“Well?” there was a hint of impatience and it just made Jasper sit up straighter.
Golden eyes glanced to Carlisle who was sleeping comfortably, the foreign rhythmic
thumping of his heart making Jasper even more aware of his presence, as if the constant
mindfulness he had when it came to his father figure was not enough.

He then focused on the man who for a better lack of words shattered his family apart.

He might lose his adoptive siblings and may even lose Carlisle if he played the wrong cards.

But the blood-red eyes were warm. There were no signs of mania or the crazed glint he had
seen in his own many times during the war. Jasper was afraid of becoming that monster
again, the one who killed without discrimination, and did it to appease that small part of him
who loved the act of murder, who reveled in death.

Shifting Carlisle to lay on the couch Harry lazily moved around the kitchen and immediately
Jasper could sense the millisecond blood was poured, his skin prickling and venom
accumulating in his mouth.

“What you lack is control over your fear, not control over your body.” the older vampire said
as he turned around with a glass carafe halfway filled with the thick redness of human blood.

Compared to animal blood, human blood held a spice to it, as if the blood was seasoned and
simmered until it became a succulent river of temptation.

Setting a shot glass down Harry poured the blood into the small glass and placed it in the
middle of the table between them both.

“Make your choice by the time I come back. You should know by now that Carlisle will think
of you fondly no matter your taste in prey.”

Carlisle’s soft sound of protest made him snap from his reverie and he followed Harry with
his gaze as the other cradled the blond before standing and ascending the stairs.

Jasper swallowed the growing venom in his mouth, fingers jumping as if electricity was
being sent throughout his body, his vision tunneling.

Harry watched from his perch at the bottom of the stairs, red eyes watching as Jasper Hale
licked the glass clean with his tongue with a hunger Harry had only seen in newborn
abominations.

However, unlike the squirming and simply noisy mistakes most turned vampires were in his
vision, Harry could see potential in this one, a potent and raw power under his dead veins and
that annoying little quirk some were given upon dead… he could use it to his benefit.

What Harry needed was someone in his corner, someone who would fight not for him but for
Carlisle.

He believed Jasper would have done so regardless but he was weak, body sustained but
hardly nourished by the animal blood he forced himself to drink and control drawn thin while
being surrounded by what he considered to be prey.
 He needed someone who could kill and destroy, any threat Harry was not able to, but he also
needed someone who could think and calculate.

Smiling Harry sat down once more and poured another glassful for Jasper, the shot glass
pushed towards Jasper who stared at it with both trepidation and desire.

Harry observed the trembling hand and now he was being watched the younger vampire
savored the blood, throat swallowing long after the blood was drained and he held the glass
out for more, the gold in his eyes wavering to show the barest wisps of red.

Harry’s smile turned sharp and he tilted the carafe again, claws clinking against the glass.

“Let us begin.”

Chapter End Notes

Happy New Year!! I hope everyone had a great Christmas and I am tentatively hoping
2021 is much kinder to us than the previous year.

This chapter was written weeks ago and I forgot about it so oops!

I have an A/B/O dynamic fanfic with Harry/Lucius/Severus/Tom as the main pairing

ready to post. It is called The Standard and holy moly am I nervous haha!

I have a lot of pairings to sort through but not many prompts, so if you have a prompt
you'd like to see for a pairing drop it in the comments. Remember a prompt is: "A
writing prompt is a brief passage of text that provides a potential topic idea or starting
point for an original story"
 Harry/Young Jun
Chapter Summary

(Harry/Young Jun - Warrior (2019) )

Chapter Notes

Ducks is a term used in Warrior for white people.

See the end of the chapter for more notes

Young Jun stared at the man who was sitting on the other side of the room drinking alone,
and so far he rejected all of the girls who came his way, even the ones that weren’t offered to
newcomers, especially Ducks.

He had seen him in the saloon a couple of times already and he always drank the same time
and always alone, never with any other Ducks or Chinese or girls.

He avoided conflict from what Young Jun could see, moving when a group came in and
declared the table to be theirs, though from his physique he figured the man could have taken
down at least two before the next three overwhelmed him.

His gaze dragged over the tall and broad-shouldered form decked in a black suit, hair neatly
combed and beard trimmed close to his face, an old scar running from the right side of his
forehead to his eyelid and another on his neck and hands from what Young Jun could see.

Another girl came over, this one wearing a sheer satin shirt and bare panties with thigh high
stockings, her hands gently brushing over his shoulder and Young Jun watched as he smiled
at her and shook his head, the whore pouting but dancing away.

“You see that guy there Ah Sahm?” his brother in arms looked up from the meal he was
eating, brow raised as he found the person Young Jun was talking about.

“Yea… what about him?”

Young Jun chewed on his bottom lip “Nothing. He just sat there every day for the past six
days drinking the same old shit and never takes any pussy. Strange.” he mumbled and Ah
Sahm smiled, every bit the amused asshole he was.

“You sure that isn’t normal and you, the deviant you are, aren’t the strange one?” his voice
was tilted in amusement and Young Jun shoved him, the man laughing and patting him on the
shoulder.

“He’s keeping to himself, leave him alone. Here.” another shot was pushed in front of him
“You could use another drink.”

“Yea, yea.”

The next day when Ah Sahm was distracted Young Jun sauntered over to the table that the
man occupied and sat down, pushing a pint of beer towards him and a bowl of food as well,
his own in front of him. The man blinked in surprise, green eyes looking from the food to
Young Jun and then down again.

“Holy shit your eyes are really fucking pretty!” Young Jun exclaimed and the man looked
startled even more.

Backtracking when he remembered that they didn’t speak the same language he motioned to
his eyes then the man, giving him a thumbs-up as if it would adequately translate what he
was saying. It must have gotten through because the Duck smiled at him.

“I know you can’t understand me but it kinda annoys me how you sit here every day and just
drink by yourself, you never eat anything either, what gives huh?”

Young Jun motioned to the food he had put in front of the stranger before digging into his
own, only peaking up when he heard the rattle of the bowl with the spoon scraping along the
sides.

Pointing to himself he smiled “Young Jun.”

Vocalizing his name slowly as to emphasize it was his name and not just some other random
word, the man tilted his head a bit and Young Jun was briefly taken aback by how handsome
a dumb Duck could be.

“Harry.” the man murmured and Young Jun nodded, head lowering again to hide his surprise
because holy shit.

After that, he made it a habit of looking for Harry and it had gotten to a point that Ah Sahm
pointed out he sulked should the man not appear, his brother and best-friend joking that
maybe Young Jun had a new preference that was not pussy.

That was stupid because pussy was life, it was the sweetest thing after life itself and money.

Harry waved at him as soon as he came through the doors and Young Jun felt his mood perk
up significantly before he froze.

Shit.

Fuck!
Ah Sahm just stared at him with his all-knowing asshole of a face that held no judgment only
understanding, and Young Jun bit his lip, only getting up after he downed his shot and left Ah
Sahm who didn’t complain like he usually would.

Young Jun wasn’t a coward on the battlefield and he sure as hell wasn’t one when it came to
personal shit, not even if it turned out he liked-liked the white man with the pretty eyes,
handsome face, and body that was probably built bigger than Bolo’s under the clothes.

It probably should bother him he had never heard the man speak other than his name and
only laugh but it didn’t, and as he sauntered over to the table, swagger turned up a notch
before it dropped and he for once found himself speechless in the face of a new obstacle.
Young Jun peeked up at the green-eyed Duck who stared back, lips curved in a welcoming
smile.

“I like you.” Young Jun blurted out.

Harry’s expression didn’t change, only a downward glance and then back up so Young Jun
continued before he lost his courage.

“I know you can’t understand shit I’m saying and you haven’t said anything to me other than
your name but I like you. I know it’s weird and creepy and you probably got a woman back
home with kids and shit but I just had to say it, get it off my chest ya’ know? If I could I
would probably take you upstairs right now, no one in here would judge us cause ya know, a
whore shop and shit.”

“Let’s go then.”

“My buddy Ah Sahm won’t say nothing either cause he’s cool like that, but we can’t cause
you can’t understand nothing... I’m… saying…” Young Jun trailed off in the rant, and
blinked at the man sitting across from him.

“D-Did you just speak to me?”

Harry’s lips twitched up in amusement and he leaned forward, scarred hands taking Young
Jun’s in his own and the hatchetman couldn’t help but gape.

“You’ve told me about how you feel as though you do not belong anywhere in this world as a
chinaman who has never been to China. How you love your father even if you do not feel he
loves you back. What age you have lost your virginity, your first kill, your first love, favorite
foods, and colours, how as a child you wanted so many animals your father decided to give
you a cat that then lived to fourteen before it died.”

Young Jun was blinking rapidly and he craned his head back to see if Ah Sahm was watching
but the bastard was having a conversation of his own.

He couldn’t believe what he was hearing.

Harry was speaking Chinese back to him, fluent and without mistake, only a hint of an accent
in the words.
“How you wish sometimes you could leave San Francisco but you’re too loyal to your father
to do so. How you want to see so many sights you’ve read about that it hurts at times that you
know you never will. How you hate the Ducks because they hate you without knowing you.”

Harry squeezed his hand “And now you like me enough to want to have a go with me
upstairs and I agreed because I find myself liking you as well Jun.”

Young Jun knew his face was red because it felt as though it was fucking burning and he
swallowed the lump in his throat before nodding and shit, who knew hearing the man speak
so much could give him a hard-on so quickly.

Standing he barely resisted stumbling and only then did Ah Sahm look his way the jerk
giving him a thumbs up.

Harry led him up the stairs, hand on his lower back and respectfully none of the girls or Ah
Toy looked their way though the mistress of the brothel did smirk.

When the door closed and they were alone in the room Young Jun for once since he was
twelve and fucked a woman nearly twice his age didn’t know what to do, hands hanging
limply at his sides even as his cock strained in his pants.

“I-I don’t understand. If you could understand me why didn’t you speak up?” he asked and
took a step back, then another, Harry consuming each space between them with steps of his
own until there was no ground to stand on, only the bed he landed backward on a with a soft
thud.

“You looked as though you needed to get some things off your chest.” he reached forward
and Young Jun found himself leaning into the calloused hand that caressed his face.

“Was I wrong?” Harry asked and he shook his head, the green-eyed bastard smiling in
response.

Harry leaned down and Young Jun moved further up the bed to accommodate the bigger man
between his legs where he could feel the thick press of Harry’s own prick.

He might have whimpered.

“We don’t need to do this now, there’s no rush, I don’t intend on leaving San Francisco for
some time.”

Young Jun swallowed and reached up, and shit he felt as though he was running for miles,
heart thundering in his chest and palms sweaty. This was worse than when he was a kid and
was about to get his virginity popped because now he was grown and was going to get it
popped again .

“I want to. J-Just make sure it doesn’t hurt yea?”

Harry stared at him for a moment before he kissing him, lips softer than Young Jun would
have expected and like sugar, he melted from the heat of the kiss.
Somewhere between kissing and reassurance, he had lost his clothes and the hatchetman
blushed when Harry who was still clothed grabbed his thighs, pushing them back to his
chest.

“What’re you -”

Young Jun screamed because holy fuck!

Looking between his thighs he could see Harry’s bearded face between his -

A whimper left his mouth that was quickly followed by a moan as the tongue lapped and
nudged at his hole, Harry’s other hand that was not holding his legs up wrapped around his
cock and Young Jun could not tell if he was floating from pleasure or if he was dead and
going to heaven.

“T-that’s dirty man… y-yo… y-you caa-” he moaned louder when he felt Harry slip inside,
tongue wiggling in a place he never knew to be possible and opening new gates of
stimulation that went straight to his dick.

Toes curling he couldn’t help but grab the dark curls on the man’s head, pushing his face
further as if it would make the tongue go deeper.

“F-feels good… feels really good Harry… fuck…”

Harry chuckled and sucked at his pucker making Jun shiver and idly with an abstract horror
he realized he was close already, balls tightening then before he could pace himself he was
crying out and this was maybe the hardest he had ever come, white spunk flying so far some
landed in his mouth and hair.

“You are beautiful Jun.” he barely heard Harry over the sound of his heart and breathing,
breaths ragged, and was he fucking crying?

The next step in deflowering his ass apparently came in the form of fingering his ass with oil
that made his saliva wet ass extra slippery and Young Jun found himself cumming a second
time when Harry pressed three fingers to a spot inside, something that made him arch from
the bed in electrifying pleasure as his body heated up like a gas mine.

Harry hummed, pressed a kiss to his thigh, easing his fingers out from where they had been
knuckle deep, the oil making a wet sound that made Young Jun’s cock twitch again.

“I can’t… Harry I can’t… too much…”

He had never turned down sex but then again no one had ever made him cum twice in a
matter of minutes. Harry kissed him again, tongue lapping against his own and stealing what
little breath he had managed to collect. For the first time since they had locked the door the
green-eyed man with the funny accent began to strip.

Young Jun watched him as the clothes came off piece by piece until he was staring at scarred
abdomen, lacerations that healed poorly decorating one of his thighs, and what looked to be a
burn wound just shy of his pelvis.
Harry didn’t seem to mind the observation of his body but eventually, Young Jun’s eyes were
drawn to the spot between his thighs where the biggest cock he had ever seen stood heavy
and angry looking.

“It will sting for a bit but I promise it’ll get better quickly.” Harry kneeled between his legs
and Young Jun swallowed, Harry brushing his sweat-damp hair from his face “Do you trust
me Young Jun?”

He barely knew the man but fuck it “Yea... I trust you.”

The initial press was terrifying but Harry just eased him through it until the thick head pushed
inside him and Young Jun whimpered in pain as the too fucking thick cock slide deeper and
deeper into him, his ass feeling as though it would split apart if any more went in, his
stomach cramping and finally the bastard stopped moving.

“I can feel you in my stomach man.” Young Jun whispered, hand pressed to his belly as
though he would be able to feel the cock there, Harry chuckling before he slowly shifted the
hatchetman’s legs to rest on his shoulders and Young Jun moaned as the angle changed.

Harry pulled out slowly and pushed back in, the lard making it go smoothly and Young Jun
could feel his own dick begin to stiffen again.

Soon enough they were fucking, truly fucking, with him holding onto Harry as the man
pounded him, the bed creaking and Young Jun begging for more because while this was his
first time taking cock he was no pansy, he didn’t need sweet and gentle.

“Next time I’ll make love to you Young Jun. I’ll do it nice and slow, I’ll show you what it
means to unravel from the inside out.” Harry panted in his ear as his hips continued to piston
forward, cock a driving force that was making Young Jun lose his mind.

Young Jun just cried out, the sweet spot in him being hammered and his dick already
drooling, balls tight and then he came without a sound just body trembling, toes curling and
his nails digging into Harry’s shoulders and scalp. Harry grunted and just when Young Jun
thought his cock was going to perk back up again as Harry continued to fuck him
highlighting his sensitive nerve endings, horror at the prospect of coming again, Harry came.

It was hot in the way that the sun was during midday and Young Jun pressed a hand to his
belly as cum filled him and continued to flow in, Harry moaning above him softly because
while Young Jun had screamed and made it known to the world he was getting the best dick
ever in San Francisco, Harry had only made soft sounds.

Harry pulled out slowly, apologizing when Jun winced, the cum taking a few seconds before
it came spilling out in a rush of hot liquid that made the hatchetman moan, his dick being a
rebel and twitching.

Harry laughed and laid beside him, pulling him into his arms and Young Jun could feel
embarrassed about it later but he returned the cuddle because why the fuck not.
 “You’re not leaving San Francisco no time soon right?” he asked, fingers tracing a puckered
scar on Harry’s shoulder making the duck shiver.

“No, I believe I will be here for quite some time.” came the soft reply, Jun smiling, accepting
the kiss Harry offered him.

“Good.”

When they returned downstairs Harry paid for the room and gave Ah Toy enough money for
both him and Ah Sahm for whatever they wanted for the rest of the day before kissing Young
Jun on the forehead.

“I have business to take care of, I will see you later yes?”

Young Jun refused to blush even with the entire brothel staring at them. Nodding he grinned
“I’ll be around.”

Harry smiled, nodding to Ah Sahm before leaving and Young Jun limped his way back over
to the bar where one of the girls place a pillow on the seat for him.

Groaning he downed Ah Sahm’s drink and his fellow hatchetman grinned at him like a lazy
cat.

“You sounded like a woman.”

Young Jun did blush this time, ears turning red when the girl behind the bar giggled.

“Fuck you man! That dick was exceptional!”

Ah Sahm just grinned and called for another drink since their bill was taken care of
“Whatever you say man.”

“I came three times!”

“Really, I don’t want to know-”

“His cock is this huge man, look, look!” Young Jun measured out the length and Ah Sahm
wrinkled his nose.

“Seriously Young Jun I don’t-”

“Listen it was a religious experience I think it reached my guts, no it did! It was all in my
belly and it felt amazing !”

“Shut up please! I’m sorry I laughed!”

Young Jun cackled.

Chapter End Notes

I wrote this chapter back when I started this Top Harry saga and damn I forgot about it
cause there was no fandom for Warrior on Ao3 yet, this would have been the very first
of its kind on here.

I've had some major writers' block and recently I've been very unhappy with my writing,
so I even took down a chapter I had posted earlier this month. I have several chapters for
this saga started but none completed and now the assignments are piling in, my country
is back on lockdown and bleh. So here's me saying sorry in advance for any lengthy
time periods that go without a new chapter being posted.

I hope you all are staying safe! Until next time!

 Harry/Uhtred of Bebbanburg
Chapter Summary

“Don’t lick it.” Uhtred obediently kept his tongue on the inside of his mouth.
(Harry/Uhtred - The Last Kingdom S1Ep1 rewrite)

Chapter Notes
See the end of the chapter for notes

Uhtred was certain of only a few things in life now he was a slave, a much better alternative
to being dead like his father and many of his countrymen. Whereas his existence had been
ignored at best during his time in Bebbanburg due to his older brother’s duties as heir to the
land, he was the unwanted second son, heir to nothing but a few pennies and a title at his
brother’s side if he so wished.

Then when his brother died dozens of eyes turned to him and he was swept away from his
life of being a shadow and the uncoveted position of the second son. He was no longer a
child but the heir to Bebbanburg, no longer a shadow but the light, no longer Osbert but now
Uhtred.

His father died along with his army, his uncle schemed no doubt and Father Beocca being the
only safe person in his homeland now he had at first resisted falling in slavery under the
Danish warlord but soon enough it became more of a comfort than his previous life had
been.

His only duty was to serve Earl Ragnar and his family or more specifically his youngest son
Harald.

It became apparent Earl Ragnar was blessed by the Gods.

A beautiful wife who was a former shield maiden, a son skilled in fighting and strategy, a
daughter revered as beautiful with flaming locks of hair, and finally, another son hailed as the
Speaker of the Gods, a young sorcerer who led his father to victory and fertile land.

It was how the Danes ended up on Bebbanburg’s shores.

It was also how Uhtred found himself sitting on Harald's bed while the boy crushed
something foul in a bowl with a mortar. Harald was a mostly silent boy who only joined in
the conversation when nudged to, a propensity for staring and an even greater ability of
cutting people down with his very adult-ish way of speaking.

Before he had seen the boy play with Young Ragnar, help Thyra pick flowers, and practice
sword fighting with his father he believed the boy to be mute, but in fact Harald had the
mouth of someone several times his age, filthy words flowing from his mouth each time he
was thrown on his ass by his brother or slapped with the flat end of a blunt sword by his
father.

For whatever reason Harald had taken a liking to him, a huge liking, enough so he asked his
father to transfer ownership of Uhtred over to him. For a week after that Uhtred was told to
follow behind Harald, the boy pointing out different plants and their uses and it was then that
Uhtred got his first real taste of sword practice. Harald was already unfailingly good, having
practiced for most of his life, and could already swing a real sword whereas Uhtred held a
wooden one.

He was taught to cook and clean with Thyra and Sigrid, how to milk the cows and slaughter
the sheep and pigs, what the shape of a moon meant, and how to properly worship the Gods.

He felt as though he was being prepared for something grand, something that Earl Ragnar nor
any of Harald’s family were privy to.

“Wha -!” he watched in horror as Harald sliced his palm, blood pouring into the bowl while
the other boy leveled him with an unimpressed stare, his luminous green eyes more
intelligent than any 14 year old had the right to be.

Wrapping his palm with expert turns Harald took Uhtred's hand and without warning his
palm was sliced as well, not deep but it hurt badly enough he cried out, red blood dribbling
into the bowl and he watched as the red mixture turned orange.

Stirring it twice more with two of his fingers Harald swiped the surprisingly cold liquid over
Uhtred’s forehead, twice vertically under his eyes and once over his lips.

“Don’t lick it.”

Uhtred obediently kept his tongue on the inside of his mouth until two clean fingers pried his
lips open, Harald adding unknown herbs to the liquid then alcohol to it and the colour
changed to green. A murky dangerous-looking green, a green that Harald took a mouthful of
then held out the bowl for Uhtred to do the same.

“What… what is it?” he was hesitant to ask, not afraid because Harald had yet to raise his
voice or hand to him, in fact, the slightly older boy always protected him and treated
whatever scraps and wounds he gained while doing his duties or practicing the sword.

“You are mine Uhtred and I take my responsibility very seriously. This ties us. A blessing
from Odin and Frigg.”

Harald cupped Uhtred’s cheek and the younger boy blushed at the warm hand on his face, he
felt a bit like a girl in such a position but for some reason he was unable to move, to protest.

“I will protect you from today and onward Uhtred Ragnarson, you and all you shall give, and
shall be.”

Uhtred swallowed the lump lodged in his throat, fingers fiddling with the hem of his shirt.
Such a promise had never been made to him because for most of his life he had been Osbert
the Forgotten before the first Uhtred died and he was renamed to fill a role he was never
taught to fill.

“Promise?” his voice was soft, tiny even and Harald stared at him in the eerie unblinking
fashion he usually did.

“I swear it to the Gods.”

Uhtred drank the foul liquid, gagging afterward then jerking backward in surprise when he
was suddenly kissed, his first kiss in his young life and it was with another boy.

The tongue sliding over his felt gross and nice all at once, Harald pulling back to lick his lips
like an overgrown cat before patting Uhtred's head when he buried his head in the pillow to
hide his burning face.

...

Uhtred locked his legs tighter around the tanned waist as his hands clawed at the earth and
the broad back of the viking fucking him, filling him over and over again with such a thick
cock he doubted a woman would be able to take it comfortably.

“Haa… Harald… fuuck!”

They were both sweaty from exertion, cum sticky between them and more clinging to Uhtred
insides that were already flooded by the sorcerer’s cum but Harry had yet to go soft, cock
persistently a hard, warm presence stretching Uhtred hole wide and his insides being
pummeled.

Earl Ragnar had given him a hint of where Harry was to be that night, the man choosing to
collect certain herbs during the quarter moon for the entire night and Uhtred followed behind
hours later when Brida and Thyra were asleep.

The 11 years he spent under the Ragnarson household were ones of prosperity and happiness,
his title as a slave revoked the night after he drank the nasty concoction and Harald kissed
him. A small part of him feeling as though he betrayed Brida but nothing much had changed.
He still helped around the house and the farm, played with Thyra and Brida, but at night he
slept in Harald’s bed.

Uhtred grew and matured, lanky body filling out to give way to muscles, hair longer than it
had ever been and his skill with the sword surpassing many of the old warriors. He was Earl
Ragnar's fifth blessing from the Gods.

Harald had grown as well, tan skin dark with ink that expanded over muscular biceps, his
chest and back broad, legs thick with power, and his hair shaved at the sides with red tattoos
of markings he gave the artists specific instructions to ink into his scalp.

The one thing which had grown immensely was the man’s cock, all veined and heavy, fat
enough to make Uhtred gag before it even reached the back of his mouth, and practically
made his own dick drool when it slipped down into his throat.

“Hghnn! Mhmm-ah!”

His legs were spread and Uhtred through a haze of lust and neverending bliss watched as
Harald’s green eyes glowed in the dark, supernatural power barely contained behind the
forest green orbs.

Uhtred screamed when Harald slammed into him harder than ever, his abused prostate taking
the brunt of the force, too much pleasure all at once to make his head spin and spent cock
twitch against his belly.

He was going to go crazy if this continued for much longer.

Uhtred Ragarsson, dead from cock. He would laugh but even that was impossible now.

“Cum for me once more Uhtred.” Harald murmured into his ear, voice deeper than usual and
hands tightening around under his knees, strokes slow and calculated, each slick slide of the
fat cock pushing and rubbing against his sweet spot until he saw stars dancing in his vision.

Shaking his head Uhtred whimpered, hands clawing at Harald’s back and shoulders, nails
leaving bloody lines as his body reacted once more, cock filling out and balls clenching with
the need to release.

“I can’t - Harry I can’t -” he was never above begging when it came to Harald, the pet name
only he was allowed to call the Viking slipping from his mouth in his moment of weakness.

“You will.”

It was not a question of him being able to, it was a command.

His toes curled and a pitiful cry escaped him, Harry’s hips rotating with each downward
thrust before the pace changed and Uhtred came with a silent cry, tendons in his neck
bunching and his body tensing tighter than the string of a bow.

He passed out before Harry could finish but when he came to there was red paint down his
belly and over his chest, the strange marking Harry drew like someone who had drawn them
hundreds of times before. He dared not touch them.

Snuggling further into Harald's winter coat, the material thick and warm with the fur of a
grizzly bear around the neck and the hood. The fire was still going but Harry was absent.
Turning he found the dark-haired Viking leaning against a tree, sword in hand and already
dressed, green eyes flickering over to his form while Uhtred’s found the prone and very dead
bodies of two strange men.

“Get dressed.”

He scrambled out of the winter coat and into his clothes, pulling his sword from its scabbard
before he joined Harry where he stood. Uhtred looked over the ridge where they were
standing, the flickering orange of torches moving down below with the soft whining of
horses.

“That’s Kjartan he’s -” Harry silenced him with a hand over his mouth, Uhtred turning to
stare at his friend and lover with outrage barely contained.

“Calm down and follow me.” the hand was removed and Uhtred glared at Harry’s back but
followed nonetheless as they trekked the long way back to the village, the time it took to get
there on foot would give Kjartan and his men the advantage over them given they were on
horses.

“I saw this happening three days ago, father already knows. Thyra and mother along with the
rest of the women and children are already gone, father is waiting with the rest of the
warriors for an ambush.”

Harry was always a soft speaker, challenging anyone to not listen when he spoke. Moving
closer to the man Uhtred looked up at his childhood friend seeing how tense he was, the
strain of his shoulders, and the wrinkle of his forehead.

For all that he was formidable with a sword and in the arts of sorcerer Harald cared deeply
for his family, more than he let on for others to see and it was a common misconception he
was emotionless, the man never correcting the assumptions if anything he encouraged them.

By the time they reached the outline of the forest that led to the village Earl Ragnar had
settled and built after destroying the Bebbanburg army, Uhtred could feel the heat of the fire
roaring of what used to be the Ragnarson home, Kjartan and his men laughing as they stood
around a smoking corpse on the ground, swords poking into the raw flesh.

“Easy.” Harry gripped his arm in warning and Uhtred scowled but listened as he always did.
Pointing upwards Uhtred stared at the dark blue night sky watching and waiting for whatever
it was Harry had predicted and then like a shooting star he saw an arrow engulfed with fire
shoot across the air, the battle cry of men on all sides, Earl Ragnar at the forefront in full
armor, sword already gleaming red.

The sight made his blood pump faster, heart beating quicker, and hand clenching around the
hilt of his sword.

Joining the fray was second only to sex with Harry, his sword slicing into the underbellies of
Kjartan’s men to gut them then into their necks for a quicker finish. Harry moved like he was
dancing, his single sword splitting into two to split men in half, splinter limbs, and behead
others.

It was beautiful to watch the normally silent man shine on the battlefield, blood staining his
skin and matting his tied up hair with a bloodthirsty grin on his face of pure unadulterated
happiness.

Kjartan was forced to kneel without his sword with Earl Ragnar’s sword at his neck.
“My sword, please Ragnar… anything but this! I want to go home! I want to go to Valha-
urk!”

Uhtred watched as the sharp blade slowly split his jugular open, blood pouring in a waterfall
of red down the shipmaster’s torso before he fell backward, eyes vacant and hands limp at his
sides, not even having tried to stop the blood flow knowing it was futile.

Young Ragnar would have wanted to be there at that moment to witness Ktarjan’s death, the
eldest of the Ragnarson siblings having hated the shipmaster and his son since Sven stripped
Thyra when she was a child, had asked for his life and now he died with dishonor, Valahalla’s
gates would not open for those who died without their sword in hand.

Sven stunned to silence stared at the dead body of his father, blood pooling around him and
eyes blank. Ragnar raised his sword again, the metal still wet from Kjartan’s blood with all
intentions of striking down the son but Harald’s voice cut through the excitement all Vikings
felt when in battle and the blood was about to be spilled.

“I want him father.”

Ragnar paused, his grey eyes bright with bloodlust “You want him?” he repeated as if he had
not heard him clearly.

Harry rolled his eyes “For a ritual father.” the disdain in his voice made several of the men
laugh and the Earl followed along soon after, sword lowering and Sven looking more afraid
than before when faced with a sword to his throat.

Sven was dragged away kicking and screaming against the ropes binding his hands and neck,
his two captors throwing him in the cellar for the night until the dead bodies were cleared up
and the husk of the house knocked down. Scouts were sent to bring the women and children
back, Ragnar’s father among them, and Uhtred found himself dragged back to the forest on
horseback with Harry taking control of the reigns.

The wind knocked out of him when Harry hauled him down from the brown mare to the
exact spot they vacated earlier to throw him down onto the abandoned winter coat. Grinning
widely Uhtred reached up to his lover who gladly came down, his kiss as heated as the hands
prying his clothes from his body and parting his thighs and ass.

“Nghn!” Uhtred arched from the coat, the balls of his feet leaving the ground to stand on his
toes when three fingers pushed inside his wetness, a combination of cum and oils, his hole
still loose from their previous lovemaking.

“Hold yourself open Amare .” Harry murmured, tongue slipping to the second language he
had used since he was a child, one that no one knew but him, and they never failed to send a
shiver down Uhtred's spine.

He knew some of the words now, common ones that Harry said often enough in the same
context that he pinpointed until they made sense.

Amare meant love.

Raising his legs from the ground, cock hard and wet on the tip he spread his cheeks,
calloused fingers tickling his loosened rim when he felt cum slip from it, the semen dribbling
from his crack to fall onto the coat below and Harry with a sound like an angry bear dove
forward.

Uhtred squealed like a stuck pig, white blinding his vision and body shuddering as he was
forced to orgasm, the spunk landing on his face and neck before a hot tongue licked it up.

He never asked why Harry chose him, a scrawny nobody Saxon without a real name much
less anything to offer but hard work and his life should it be requested, but Harry took him
from his status as a slave and made him a friend. Bonded them that night with that smelly
drink he painted his face with and sealed with a kiss.

The man fucking him with such passion was one of the most feared by those who knew of
him, his visions never wrong, scarily accurate and victory was forever guaranteed to Earl
Ragnar as long as his son said it was his to have. There were many who called themselves
sorcerers and priests but none have ever reached the level Harry currently stood on, none
could claim the throne he sat upon as the Speaker of the Gods.

Harald Ragnarson was the favored child of Odin and Frigg, anyone with common sense
could see that.

“Et gemmas pretiosissimas non estis mihi Uhtred…” Harry rumbled in his ear, his hold on
Uhtred an inescapable vice grip and he wanted to escape as much as a warrior wanted to flee
from Valhalla.

“Mo-more! Fuu… fuck me - moore!” his body was a host of sensitivity, nipples perked and
cock erect once again, his hole squeezing down around the fat length pounding him into the
ground.

Shifting position Uhtred’s legs over Harry’s broad shoulders and the warm hands gripping his
hair and waist, the thrusts deeper but slower and Harry’s forest-green eyes glowed faintly
with the power Uhtred knew no other to have.

They shared the same breath, panting exhales of mist, bodies rocking with one another and
hands clutching onto the sweat and blood slick skin of the man before them.

Uhtred whimpered when he came again, walls clenching around Harry who groaned low into
the hickey covered neck, his release filling Uhtred to the brim, the excess spilling out when
Harry pulled out minutes after he went soft.

“You know I will do everything I can to protect you Uhtred.”

“I know.” he replied easily, once he would have argued he did not need protection because he
was no woman, but Harry would always counter with ‘woman or not, you are mines’ and that
had been the end of that.

Uhtred rolled on top of the sorcerer, his hair loose from the tie so it fell down his shoulders in
a waterfall of rich brown, Harry’s green eyes steady on his face as his hands were steady on
his hips. Uhtred could not deny to himself or the Gods how much he loved the man under
him, a strong silent presence in his life, gentle but firm, brutal but frighteningly intelligent.

A contradiction to everything Saxon’s said of Danes.

“I love you.” he blurted out surprising himself but Harry took it in stride, leaning up in a
ripple of muscles to kiss Uhtred slowly, tongue licking over the split lip to tangle with his
own tongue.

...

For three days they had to contend with Sven’s screams of agony, the sounds of torment
echoing throughout the forest like a spirit unable to rest, the adults frightening the children
with stories, and the women chasing the men away when their children cried in fear.

Uhtred was clueless as to what was happening in the depths of the forest, as lost as Thyra,
Sigrid, and Ragnar as to what Harry was doing out in the forest for those last three days
beyond torturing Sven.

After they returned from the forest the following morning, Uhtred ass pleasantly aching,
body covered in bruises and nipples sore, Harry had promptly disappeared, those who were
present watching as he dragged Sven out into the thicker sections of the woodland where he
often spoke to the Gods but never took another human.

His visions or rituals never lasted so long and never before did they involve a human
sacrifice, whatever it was Ragnar had requested Ubba and Guthrum be present, the two
warlords bringing a dozen men each.

When Sven’s howls of suffering ended abruptly the entire village was on edge, Uhtred
standing between Thrya and Brida and Ragnar with his fellow warlords. He made to move
forward when Harry came stumbling from the forest, body covered from head to toe in blood
with Sven’s decapitated head in hand, both eyes gorged out and jaw broken, his tongue
missing from the empty hollow of his mouth.

Harry stopped twenty feet away from the gathered people, his eyes white and clouded as if
mist swirled around in the sockets. The blood was so red it made his tattoos nearly invisible
on his bare skin, the simple pants clinging to his legs with the added moisture.

The mist slowly faded to the normal green gaze, Harry blinking twice before throwing Sven’s
head to the ground so it rolled towards Thyra, the only female child of Ragnar smiling at her
brother at the gift before Harry turned to his father, taking three steps forward.

“We go to war with Wessex father. A Saxon crowned as King named Alfred is the only thing
standing between us and praise from Odin himself.”

Excitement rippled through the crowd of gathered warriors at the mention of war, the war
cries echoing beyond the village.
Chapter End Notes

An early Valentines' Day gift from me to all of you lovelies~! Your comments and kudos
mean a super lot!

I cannot for the life of me remember who requested this pairing but it has been finished
for ages now and I forgot, cheers!
 Harry/Gabriel Lorca
Chapter Summary

Harry grunted and withdrew his cock before he lowered Gabriel to the floor the veined
length jerking once before he came, a surge of sticky cum landing all over the captain's
face and open mouth (Harry/Gabriel - Star Trek: Discovery)

“Commander Potter on the Bridge!”

Gabriel turned sharply on his heels at the announcement, his eyes widening and the baby
blues surveying the man walking towards him, all swagger and confidence. His dark hair
swept back and behind the circular spectacles his abnormally green eyes, too bright for a
human shined with amusement at seeing Gabriel’s shock.

His hands behind his back and the dark navy blue uniform with a black insignia badge on his
chest, steps nearly soundless despite the issued boots and the additional bulk to the uniform.

“Captain Lorca.”

Gabriel’s eyes narrowed now but here, where the eyes of his crew and former criminal
Michael Burnham were all staring he nodded in acknowledgment.

“Commander Potter. I see you are back from the expedition.”

“I am.” he said with all cheek and the shit-eating grin to follow.

“Nearly a week late with barely any communication during that time.”

“Certain… peculiar matters arose that needed discretion sir.”

“And it was a success no doubt?”

“Is that not what you ordered of me sir? Failure is not an option. I am ready to provide you a
full report at your earliest convenience Captain.”

The Captain’s eyes dragged slowly over his Commander’s body, not a hair out of place and
handsome face firmly neutral with a poorly hidden amusement poking at the seams. He was
taller than Gabriel with a bit more bulk and the aid of youth on his side with frightening
intelligence.

Commander Harrison Potter of the USS Discovery was Gabriel’s hidden weapon and the man
was more than willing to play along, happy to even.
“We can discuss it now. Number One, take control and mind not to bother me short of a
Klingon attack.” he ordered and the Kelpien nodded at once, taking stance and then his place
in the captain’s chair when Gabriel left the bridge followed by the Commander.

The second the doors to the bridge closed Michael saddled next to Saru.

“Who is he? This is the first time I have seen him, and that black badge…”

“You are too curious for your own good Michael Burnham.” Saru sighed but it was obvious
not only Michael was interested in the new face.

“Commander Harrison Potter is Captain Lorca’s top scientific explorer. He is the one who
goes on side missions to locate valuable artifacts, high-powered weapons… classified
missions that I am not at liberty to know nor speak of.”

Michael hummed and crossed her arms “So they are close.”

“They are, yes.” Saru replied.

“He is favored.”

Saru’s eyes narrowed at Michael

“Commander Harrison Potter is an exemplary officer. His record is spotless while under
Captain Lorca’s direction, even if half of it is hidden. But yes. He is favored by the captain.
Anything else you would like to know officer Burnham?”

Michael’s eyes lowered to look at a spot behind his head before shaking her own “No sir.
Thank you sir.” she smiled a bit and Saru watched as the human woman returned to her
position on the bridge.

It was none of his business how close the captain was to that man. Reaching behind his head
Saru tried to settle his Threat Ganglia which reacted just before Commanding officer Potter
came onto the bridge.

The man was dangerous, even more so than Michael Burnham. It was a deeply embedded
fear that Saru felt whenever the man was close by, more potent than that of the Ba’ul. Lorca
did not dismiss his concerns but he also did not heed them and Saru knew the man was well
aware of just what a threat Commanding Officer Harrison Potter posed.

The man was not human, Saru was completely sure of that, but it was not his secret to tell.

They had barely taken a step past his doors before Harry grabbed a fistful of Gabriel’s
uniform and yanked the man towards him in a bruising kiss.

It was messy and undignified with too much teeth and too little tongue but as soon as Gabriel
submitted Harry took control, his tongue lapping at the soft lips before intertwining his
tongue with the captain’s. Deepening the kiss seconds later, his hands trailing over the
expanse of Gabriel’s body, one squeezing a perk cheek and the next grasping a fistful of hair.

This was a ritual they were both well practiced in.

Letting his tongue elongate his saliva gland swelled and the thin human spittle turned thicker
and sweet, mouthful after mouthful transferring into Gabriel’s waiting mouth, and like an
obedient child, he swallowed all that he was given.

Pulling back slowly Harry licked his lips to break the line of drool connecting them both,
Gabriel’s cheeks flushed already with an obvious bulge in his uniform.

“So quick this time around. If I knew no better captain, I would swear you were eager for
this.”

Gabriel glared as his heartbeat picked up until he panted in an effort to cool down his body,
hands shedding his body of the star fleet uniform until only the plain black briefs remained.
The captain of USS Discovery swallowed heavily but refused to do more than that as sharp
eyes roamed over his naked figure and when Harry’s fingers hooked in the waistband of his
underwear, slowly dragging it down he stepped out of them and in one smooth motion fell to
his knees.

Unzipping the black pants he shuddered when the already erect cock slapped him in his face,
Harry having foregone underwear.

Looking up at the forever impressive cock, the tip already smeared with precum and Lorca
tilted his head back to hold his tongue out to catch the dribble of pre-ejaculate which hung
from the burgeoning head.

“Were you hoping I would come back today Gabriel?”

The captain grunted, pink tongue licking the underside of Harry’s balls before suckling on the
sacks, a pleased groan filling the captain’s quarter and he squirmed slightly in the crouch as
he felt his ass begin to slicken up.

Harry’s saliva never failed, the body-altering components seemed to react to the host's will, to
Harry’s intentions and like the many many times before Gabriel’s hole grew wet and his belly
heated as if an inferno was slowly building within.

Licking his way from the wet sacks he licked a line from the base to the tip and without
hesitation swallowed Harry down, the fat cock choking him but still he persisted until his
throat bulged and his mind grew blurry and all he could smell and feel was Harry .

Such a plain name for a creature of such power but Gabriel never minded, would never care.

“Mhmm… such a good boy today.” Harry praised, his hand brushing through the short-
cropped hair of the captain.

This partnership had begun a few months after the USS Discovery had taken flight and begun
its exploration of the spores and then the garden. Stamets had called him privately one late
night to scream into his ear how there was another life form on deck, sleeping inside the
spore garden.

A life form that had not been there minutes prior to observation but showed no signs of
hostility.

They kept what was identified as a male a secret from everyone who did not have
authorization to the spore garden and then they cut that list down to only Lorca, Stamet and
Culber who monitored the man’s life signs. It took two weeks to gain any conclusive results
and only so because Gabriel decided to enter the spore garden alone, unarmed and touch the
slumbering body.

Between one second and the next, he was on his back with eyes burning like the flames of the
sun peering down at him, a hand around his neck, and a tongue down his throat.

Gabriel stopped his reminiscing when Harry pulled away and the thick cock left his mouth
with a wet slurp.

His throat ached pleasantly and before he met Harry would have never thought it possible for
him to swallow such a length, his own while not small was dwarfed by it whenever Harry
decided to compare and the difference - it stirred something in Gabriel he was afraid to let
fully awaken.

He gave an aborted yelp when he was bodily picked up off the floor by hands under his ass,
legs and arms instinctively wrapping around the body before him just as his back met the
cool surface of the door.

He was a grown man pushing 190 pounds but Harry had not so much as grunted in exertion,
his hands kneading Gabriel’s ass as he nuzzled one of the pink nipples, tongue slowly gliding
over it before sucking the stiff nub into his mouth.

“ Ohh… ” Gabriel groaned, toes curling from the unexpected pleasure and Harry who was so
good at pretending to be human rumbled, the sound deep and predatory. He had heard it
enough times now that it simply aided his libido, the sound a turn on rather than a deterrent.

Harry licked his way up from the perked nipple to Gabriel’s lips, equally pink and just as
delectable and when the human captain dove forward to kiss him he rumbled again, pleased.
Using the distraction he pressed the other closer to the door, the leaking tip of his cock
rubbing lewdly against Gabriel’s ass.

“I am formally requesting two weeks of rest for my crew and I.” Harry began as his hands
slowly guided Gabriel down onto his cock, the Captain’s eyes widening and mouth forming a
perfect circle as his hole was reintroduced to Harry’s cock.

The slick wetness helped the process some but the thick shaft still burned as it sunk deeper
and deeper into Gabriel’s otherwise unprepared asshole, the captain digging blunt nails into
the tanned skin as his stomach clenched and walls contracted around the impressive length
currently splitting him apart.
“In these two weeks, I am going to make an absolute mess of you my dear captain. Do I have
permission for resting leave?” Harry asked, a pleasant smile on his face as he observed
Gabriel’s wrecked expression.

The captain drew in a stuttered breath and blinked the tears from his eyes and tried to not
think about the pressure being applied to his prostate, or how much his own penis was
drooling already, twitching in warning that he was about to cum already. Instead, he tried to
formulate words or a single thought process even as he knew that Harry was not halfway in
yet.

“Y-yes you ca-aahh!” Gabriel screamed when Harry dropped him on the remaining inches,
his walls forcefully spread apart and his belly aching at the sudden intrusion to the
penetration.

“Computer. Record all actions being conducted in this room and add the file to the Captain’s
personal viewing.”

Harry with ease lifted the captain up again, humming with a delighted grin when a jet of cum
shot from the smaller human prick to hit Gabriel under the chin, the man trembling as he
clung to Harry as if his life depended on it.

“Too deep! It’s too deep!” Gabriel gasped, words slurred and blue eyes impossibly bright
from tears.

The sight made Harry’s balls tighten.

Harry was unashamed to say that he used Gabriel’s body for his own pleasure. His hands
gripping the pale hips and the forceful thrusts up to meet the descending body was all for his
own satisfaction.

Harry was also unashamed to admit that he was hopelessly smitten for the human.

Gabriel was screaming in broken intervals now, his belly bulging from the girth digging deep
into his stomach so his lower abdomen distended each time Harry drove up and brought his
limp body down. He could do nothing but take in the rigid length, to let it fuck and ruin his
insides as it always did, to have his cock tremble and twitch as it bounced in time with the
fucking before -

Gabriel’s body went taut as he came a third time, cum spraying as he squirted between their
bodies, Harry lowering his head to lick the droplets from his cheek. His hole was making
obscene sounds, clinging to the cock raping his insides so delightfully and he knew he would
be sore for days to come unless he went to the med bay.

The captain whimpered when he could feel another orgasm building, the tip still wet from the
last load.

Harry’s cock persistently rubbed along his prostate, milking it, pressuring him to cum until
his balls were dry until his body was too exhausted to do anything but take his favored
officer’s dick until his belly was filled with another man’s semen.
Harry looked down at him, green eyes burning and a light sheen of sweat dampening his
forehead, neck, and where Gabriel was clutching. A slight smattering of black scales
decorating his jawline and shoulders, scales Gabriel would touch later but for now the
pulsing, throbbing inside of him drew his attention.

Harry grunted and withdrew his cock before he lowered Gabriel to the floor the veined length
jerking once before he came, a surge of sticky cum landing all over the captain's face and
open mouth, the blond hair covered by it as it ran down his neck, shoulders, and chest.

Gabriel looked down at the mess of cum covering him, post-coital high diminished enough
now that he could glare up at the cocky male before him.

“Help me wash up, then give me the full report of exactly why you were one week late
Commander.”

Harry grinned wider, teeth sharp beyond his human mouth “Aye aye Captain."
 Harry/Alfred the Great A/B/O
Chapter Summary

"You are my prisoner Little King" (Harry/Alfred of Wessex - The Last Kingdom) Part 1.

Chapter Notes

The chapter will contain elements of rape in the first half.

See the end of the chapter for more notes

Alfred went still, not daring to breathe too deeply in fear of testing the sharpness of the blade
at his throat.

His guards were dead and the sudden hush of fighting became all too loud as the Saxon army
realized their leader had been placed onto his knees. Peering up at the Dane who held the
other end of the sword Alfred scrutinized the man, taking in his long dark hair, bloodied lip
and face, hands weathered by training and scars healed by victory.

This was the man who commanded the armies of Guthrum, Ubba and Ragnar. The man who
had the savage viking known as Ubba on a leash he did not fight to get away from and who
many others from what his spies told him, respected greatly.

Harold, a half-breed alpha viking with an English name and an appetite for blood and war.

Of all the abominations to lead an army and capture him, it had to be someone as forsaken by
God as him.

“You call yourself the Messenger of your Pagan Gods.”

Harold blinked down at him as if he had forgotten who he held at the tip of his sword, the
man’s startling green eyes widening ever so slightly, the drying blood only pronouncing the
colour.

“You have heard of me Little King.”

Alfred bristled at the name “I am the Alpha King of Wessex and the future King of England!
You will do well to learn!”

Harold blinked again, expression highly amused as if he were listening to a child and Alfred
oh so wanted to take a knife and plunge it into the man’s gut. Around him, his army was still
silent and he tried to turn around to meet any of his commanders' eyes, to see the priests
saying their prayers but the blade pressed closer and he was still once more.

Yelping when a large hand grabbed a fistful of his hair, some of the thin strands breaking
from the root and sending pinpoints of pain along his scalp, forcing him to stand, neck bared.

Alfred wanted to shout or possibly scream at the insult being due to him, no alpha should
ever bare their neck unless it was a dane pleading for their lives and to be forced to expose
his jugular to a brute and a savage while his army watched on made Alfred burn.

“I have your King! Should you desire him back I suggest you adhere to our ransom or I will
present him back to you in pieces!”

The Danes created a barrier between their leader and the army of Wessex, Alfred’s chances of
escaping becoming smaller and smaller as he was taken away.

“God shall prevail! Look onto the church and pray! For I will be delivered from the hands of
the devil and back to you! God will never abandon his children! God will never lose to these
heathens!”

Alfred shouted and struggled against the hand as he was dragged away into the fort, the
heavy reinforced doors closing and effectively making him a prisoner of war.

He landed hard on the ground, hands scraping against the store floors and crown falling from
his head to roll across the courtyard, a dirty boot stopping it and Alfred followed the leg up to
a face and stared in disbelief at Uhtred who he and everyone else believed to be dead.

“Y-you’re alive? How can - you should have died when Ubba returned… you were meant to
die!”

Uhtred’s blue eyes narrowed but he said nothing, picking the crown up with his foot, the
golden circle dirty with mud and feces from the animals, the saxon turned dane taking
measured steps to reach the kneeling King. Placing the sullied crown back on Alfred’s head
Uhtred smiled, blue eyes crinkling in the corners.

“Long live the King.” he drawled, mockery in every word and the vikings surrounding them
laughed at Alfred’s expense, Uthred being dragged backward by a blond viking who gave
him a gentle headbutt, a woman off to the side watching them with heavy affection.

“I should have had you killed a long time ago! I should have never listened to Beocca!
You’re nothing but a dirty, filthy savage who will never be Elder -”

Alfred’s head whipped to the side and he stared in shock at Harold, his right cheek stinging
from the slap to the face.

“You dare to -”

His eyes stung as the left one received a similar punishment “Who do you think -”
The danes watching laughed as the so-called King of Wessex was slapped repeatedly until he
silenced himself and suffixed with glaring at their leader, the saxon’s cheeks red and one
corner of his lip split.

“You are my hostage until your side delivers the completed ransom, which means you are
mine to play with, mines to beat, mines to starve, mines to hurt if I so deem it.”

Harold crouched before him, bloody hand grabbing Alfred by the jaw, fingers squeezing his
cheeks to pull him closer until Alfred could smell a familiar scent - sage, wafting from the
viking before him.

“You are my prisoner Little King. It will do you well to remember that as long as I deliver
you alive to your people whole you are at my whim.”

“And it will do you well to remember my God will have retribution for this.”

Harold laughed, a booming thing that inspired the others to follow simply because it was
contagious.

“Your God has forsaken you Little King. You will soon come to know this.”

Harold stood and the vikings around them hushed, all eyes and attention on the intimidating
figure dressed in black fur and leather.

“To allow our Little King of Wessex to feel more at home I have decided he will teach us
about his God, the one they proclaim to be better than ours. The one they decree to be more
powerful than Odin and Thor!”

None of the men or women looked enthusiastic about the prospect but Alfred felt hope
blooming in his chest. Perhaps this half breed held more Saxon in him than it did savage,
maybe Alfred could persuade him to let him go.

“Come tomorrow we shall sit for an hour and listen to the Little King. Every day until he
runs dry of stories we shall let him speak about his God. But tonight we feast! For our victory
was foretold by the Gods! Odin rode with us today and those who died are surely with him in
the Great Halls of Valhalla!”

The roar of cheer was deafening and Alfred pressed both hands to his ears in hopes to block
out the noise.

Viking feasts were chaotic and the lack of manners was evident as hands shoved into the
food, people spoke with mouths open, food was thrown across tables and gas was passed
without so much as an apology. Alfred sat on the ground next to Harold’s throne on the raised
dais, Uhtred among those there enjoying the music and food, food Alfred could not eat least
his stomach rebel.

“I want everyone to raise their ale to Uhtred Ragnarson! The man who secured our victory
with the help of the Gods over the Saxon pigs!”
Another roar of cheer filled the area and Alfred glared at the floor and plate full of meat and
bread, his stomach growling and cramping as hunger settled like a rock in the pit of his
stomach.

“Why are you not eating.”

Those green eyes were on him again and Alfred remained silent until his hair was grabbed
and head yanked back to expose the dirtied skin of his neck.

“I asked you a question Little King. Is our food not to your liking? Is it too simple? Drink.”

A cup was shoved to his lips and he pushed it away “I will not drink from the same cup as a
dog.”

Harold’s lips twitched in amusement and Alfred yelped as he was jerked to his knees by the
hand still fisting his hair, Harold forced his mouth open and poured the ale inside.

Spitting it in the face of the danish King, Alfred grinned at the small victory only to be
backhanded, hard enough he flew to the side, head knocking against a wooden pillar. Black
spot danced in his vision and he had no strength to fight off the offending hands as he was
pulled to his feet and dragged somewhere across the hall.

Somewhere along the way he passed out and when he came to his hands were bound, head
tilted backward and an odd contraption holding his mouth open. He panicked, chest heaving
and eyes wild as Harold came into view again.

The feast was still ongoing but Alfred knew the attention was on him, he could feel their dirty
eyes on him.

“I offered you a chair next to me you refused. I offered you food, you refused. I offered you
my ale and you spit it back into my face. For a King you are rather childish, an insolent little
welp, but I am merciful - perhaps more so than your God. I shall feed you what you refused.”

Alfred’s panic increased, hands and feet jerking against his bonds as Harold popped a few
pieces of meat into his mouth, chewing thoughtfully it would appear before leaning over
Alfred whose eyes widened further as it realized what the Dane meant to do.

The chewed foot was spat into his mouth, wet with saliva and mushed by his teeth. Bile
threatened to rise but all Alfred could do was swallow when his nose was pinched close and
the need to breathe won over the need to not swallow.

Ale followed next, the liquid choking him as it entered faster than he could drink it and it was
repeated again and again until Alfred felt fuller than he had in years, until his belly cramped
with pains and it gurgled in warning.

His struggle renewed as pain shot through his abdomen and he groaned, legs jerking and
sweat gathering on his brow.

He needed a toilet, to find a corner and relieve himself but no one paid his struggles any
mind.
Alfred whimpered and clenched his hole as tight as he could, praying to God they would
grow tired of humiliating him and let him go off in a corner before his body rebelled against
him.

Another sharp pain and a louder gurgle and Alfred groaned, tears prickling his eyes as gas
passed from him. The King of Wessex whimpered, body shuddering as loose shit left him,
staining his pants and the chair to run down his leg and onto the floor, the noise in the hall
dimming bit by bit until there was silence.

“Oi… did he just shit himself?”

The question came from among the crowd and the silence last for three more seconds before
the vikings laughed, fingers pointing as men and women leaned against one another to hold
themselves up.

Alfred’s eyes turned to Harold, the viking leader chuckling softly and despite Alfred’s shame
the man made no move to untie him, instead, he leaned close to his ear, beard brushing
against the lobe.

“I was told you have a weak stomach for solid foods, an illness that afflicts you since birth. I
can fix you if you like.”

Alfred would rather die than to take some pagan medicine.

“You either take it or I force you to endure more nights like this where you shit your breeches
like an untrained babe. Maybe next time I will have you naked so the men can see what a
Saxon King’s asshole looks like while he shits himself.”

Harold smiled down at him as if knowing which option Alfred would choose, because there
really was only one.

The next morning Alfred dressed in fresh pants and a shirt, the night before he was only
being untied when the party came close to an end and he was dragged by a rope around the
neck like a slave to a well.

Alfred had never hauled water before and found the task difficult as well as bathing in ice-
cold water that was not heated by the fire then poured in a tub.

The guards on patrol snickered as he washed his body free of the feces, the rope remaining to
drag him back to the place he would sleep, a small room with a straw mattress and fur for
pillows. It was a fitful, restless sleep and morning came all too quickly.

A guard taking him to the balcony which overlooked the courtyard, Harold already there
dressed more simply than the night before, his battle armor gone but the furs remained as
well as the black leather. In the daylight, his Saxon-Danish features melded well, and if the
man was not part savage and his keeper Alfred would have said he was very handsome.

His dark hair was done up and beard trimmed, his sword at his side.
As he had ordered, those who did not have duties were standing or sitting down in the
cleaned courtyard like children awaiting a story and Alfred glanced between Harold and then
the waiting danes.

“Hurry it up! We got things to do!”

Sentiments of agreement followed among the crowd and Harold motioned for him to get on
with it.

“In the beginning, the one true God created heaven and earth and the earth was without form,
and void and darkness was upon the face of the deep! The spirit of God moved upon the face
of the waters and God said - what are you doing!”

Alfred stumbled back and away from the offending hand, Harold yanking him back in place,
one hand wrapped around the back of his neck and the next yanking down his pants.

“Continue with your story Little King.”

“No! Unhand me!”

Harold sighed like a man losing patience with a child, eyes narrowed and lips thinning “Must
you really make every task difficult?”

“You will not undress me like I am a woman! I am an alpha just as you are!”

Harold laughed “You are nothing like me.” he looked off to the side “Bring the girl.”

The girl? Alfred watched as a small blond child was brought out, a tight hand around her arm
but unhurt despite the red teary eyes and running nose.

“Daddy!”

“Aethelflead!” she could not be here, they were to be safe in hiding why was -

“What have you done with my family! Where are they!”

“Oh? Did your spies not whisper in your ear recently that I have your lovely wife and two
children? All in different locations of course but I kept your eldest child with me. A lovely
girl who will no doubt be beautiful when she grows older.”

Alfred’s struggles renewed “You will not touch her! You will not touch her with your filthy
hands!”

His head was knocked against the railing, Harold pinning his body with his own and through
the stunned haze he could feel a hardness pressing against his back, Harold’s mouth once
again next to his ear.

“She is here to ensure you behave. I will never allow a child to be raped but that does not
mean I am above punishing her. A piece of her finger removed each time you disobey.
Imagine what that will do to a child of her delicate constitution.”
Alfred could hear the Saxon in him now, the eloquence of his speech hindered by the
barbarity in his words.

“Do not hurt her. I swear upon God I will -”

“You will do nothing but obey Little King.” Harold interrupted.

“Daddy!” Aethelflead cried out again and Alfred felt tears prickling his eyes once more,
forcing a smile onto his lips.

“It’s alright my angel! I am simply teaching them lessons about God. Be good now and I
shall see you later!”

His daughter was taken away and Alfred tensed when his pants pooled around his waist, a
calloused hand cupping his bottom and running down the smooth plains of his legs.

“He’s hairless like a child!” Harold declared and the men and women below and around them
all laughed.

“Continue with the story of your silly god.” Harold murmured.

Alfred shuddered when a finger slipped between his cheeks and he was forced to lean
forward, his fingers clutching the railing of the balcony and he whispered fervent prayers to
God.

“I said to continue with your story Little King.” there was a warning tilt to his tone and
Alfred complied.

“A-And God… God said, l-let t-there be light an-and there was light…”

Harold spread the pale soft hairless cheeks wide apart with his hands to stare at the
impossibly tiny pink hole nestled between. Untouched and virginal, but what else could he
expect from a Christian alpha.

“And God saw the light… th-that it was good, and God divided the light from the darkness.”

He pressed his thumb to the tight pucker, gathering spit and with precision he spat it against
the crease, Alfred jerking in surprise but not moving.

“And God called the light Day and… and the darkness Night. And the ev-evening and the
morning w-were the first day.”

Pressing his thumb against and then into the spit-covered hole, the space too tight even for
his finger, Alfred giving a short cry at the intrusion causing Harold to just press the digit
further in.

“T-take it out… take it out!”

In response Harold took it out and shoved two inside instead, Alfred howling as he was
stretched wider, another cry leaving him as his knees buckled when a third finger split him
open and Harold watched as the virginal hole tried to expel his fingers, cock hard in his
pants.

“Continue with your story Little King.”

Alfred whimpered in thanks to God when the fingers left him, the burning ache remaining
and he looked down at the smirking faces of the crowd, shame colouring his face.

“And God sa...said, Let there be a f-firmament in the m-midst of the wa-waters, and let it
divide… please don’t… please I beg you as a fellow Alpha don’t -”

Harold pressed the fat head of his cock against the sparsely stretched hole and with a firm
cant of his hips, one hand squeezing down on Alfred’s neck and the other guiding the fat cock
inside he watched as the virginal asshole opened from the forced pressing of the cock, the tip
sliding in painstakingly slow and with a hard thrust he buried himself balls deep into the self-
proclaimed Anglo-Saxon King.

Harold groaned, head thrown back as tight heat squeezed down around his cock, a warmth
spreading around the shaft to drip from the crease and he grinned at the sight of blood.

“The Saxon King is a virgin no more!”

His men cheered as Alfred sobbed, stomach cramping for an entirely different reason now,
the Danish alpha’s cock was too big, the length reaching the tender parts on the inside of his
guts.

“Please God… ta-take it out… I beg of you… ta...take i-it out…”

Kings did not beg nor did alphas but Alfred wanted the pain to end, wanted to curl up and
forget the war and his brother dying and his duties beyond being a spymaster, the viking only
slipping the hand from his neck to his hair, yanking his head back so his face was seen by the
people below.

Alfred screamed when Harold pulled back and shoved the girthy meat back in again, the cock
filling him too much, too deep all at once and the Vikings down below watched as he was
defiled, their cheers for their Alpha King dominating the Saxon.

Harold rolled his hips upwards and Alfred whimpered in place of a scream for help, his knees
buckling again only to be sent straight once more by a hard thrust.

“Where are the stories of your God Little King! We are waiting to hear more!”

Alfred could only cry, fat tears of pain as he was pounded, his limp cock hanging between his
legs as blood ran in rivulets down both.

Pressing closer to the Saxon King Harold bit the ear lobe, his thrusts growing erratic as
Alfred grew unresponsive, brown eyes rolling backward.

“I have seen the future for you Little King. This is just the beginning.”
Alfred screamed anew when a new pressure began to build, struggling fresh as the dane’s
knot began to grow fatter and fatter as the seconds ticked on until with one last violent shove
of his hips the huge knot popped inside, splitting the Saxon alpha wider.

Harold groaned loudly and Alfred gave up the fight as hot cum filled him and the army below
roared in celebration again.

“Ah… Nghnn! Mhmm-ah!”

Alfred braced himself against the stone banister as Harold plowed him, the danish alpha
rolling his hips upwards sending an electric sensation of pleasure along Alfred’s spine and
feeding the heat pooling in his guts, his cock hard and the knot already formed.

The days had blurred and blended into one after the first week of his imprisonment.

He was fucked every morning before the army and every night in Harold’s chambers.
Sometimes he was blind-folded and ears plugged so he would lose track of time but never
once did the danish alpha not fuck him, not knot him and pump him full of pagan seed.

When Alfred was good he was allowed to see his daughter under the supervision of Harold or
any of his trusted men, Althelflead despite being a hostage was happy, happier than he had
ever seen her back in the castle.

When Alfred disobeyed he was punished instead of his daughter. His hands tied and mouth
forced open by the contraption from the first night, his nose plugged as alphas took turns in
emptying their balls into his mouth, the cum having to be swallowed in order to breathe.
Sometimes Harold when especially furious, allowed a few to fuck his face, the musty cocks
forcing their way down his throat to bring back up the belly full of cum and what little food
he managed to eat.

“Ahh… ahhh… ahhh! I’m - I’m-!”

Alfred came, semen splashing him in the face and chest, Harold squeezing Alfred’s sensitive
knot to bring a cry from his prisoner’s lips as he too came, the knot expanding and swelling
inside of Alfred, and no matter how many times it happened it always seemed bigger.

“Take it off… I want to… I want to cum p-please take it off…”

There was a tight band around his cock where his knot would usually swell, the bulbous
tissue being forced to remain dormant despite his body telling Alfred it should be growing,
his hormones raging against him as he was forced to endure without the knot swelling.

It was unnatural as it was painful and each day the band tightened, only being released for a
few hours a day before returning around his length again when Harold wanted him to fuck.

“You can. You will.”

Harold rubbed that spot inside of him with his fingers, the area being massaged without cease
until Alfred felt as though he were to go crazy from the stimulation, his body pinned under
the heavier and bulkier alpha as fingers fucked him raw.

“Can’t… I’m… mhmm! Haa-nghnn! Ahh! Fu...ahh!”

His toes curled and back arched as cum shot from him again and again, his body shaking as if
with seizure before he fell lax, breathing heavy and heart racing in his chest. That was the
first time he had released in the days or weeks since Harold bound his knot and prevented
him from coming, the release feeling amazing.

“Good boy. You will get to see Althelflead come the morn.”

Alfred stared at the blurry figure of the Viking King. Recently the man had taken to calling
him ‘good boy’ a term of endearment he received whenever he did something that pleased
Harold.

“Drink your tonic before your sleep.”

Alfred swallowed the three mouthfuls of bitter tonic, a mixture that stopped the cramps from
his belly and relieved him of pain, enough so he could eat meat and drink ale and other foods
he had been denied since birth due to his constitution.

He was still allowed to pray and was updated on the ransom demands being slowly fulfilled,
his young son being brought to him on the fourth month of his stay, the baby gurgling and
nuzzling his bare chest after Harold brought him in mere seconds after his knot deflated one
day.

These days he was allowed to sleep in Harold’s bed-chamber under the warm furs, soft
mattress and against the hot body of the dane, his alpha sensibilities easier to banish now in
place of comfort.

Harold grinned at the Saxon King, Alfred’s face flushed and eyes rolled back as he continued
to abuse his prostate, the long pale legs thrown over his shoulder as the viking lifted and
dropped his body as he pleased. In this position Alfred had less control as he usually did, he
could do nothing but whimper and cry as Harold used his hole to his liking.

Gravity taking control each time Harold dropped him back onto the veined shaft, each brutal
thrust sending Alfred closer and closer to oblivion.

Harold pressed him against the door of his bed-chamber and took his pleasure when Alfred
spilled between them, the banding around his cock gone now, the knot no longer inflating.

“Such a good boy you are Little King.”

He brushed back some of the dark hair grown longer now and Alfred unconsciously leaned
into the hand, Harold grinning wider still.
Chapter End Notes

I have no idea who asked for this pairing but wah-la to you my dear. This will be split
into two chapters so be on the lookout for the second half.

I honestly despise Alfred in The Last Kingdom, so I felt merry as fuck writing this.

Stay safe guys!

 Harry/Sean Wallace
Chapter Summary

Harry was an obedient minion of sorts. (Harry/Sean - Gangs of London)

Chapter Notes
See the end of the chapter for notes

Finn Wallace was a great man, a visionary who used the systematic bullshit to his advantage,
an immigrant that climbed the wall of the rich and then built a wall higher than they could
ever imagine.

Both Finn Wallace and Ed Dumani were the idols of every poor and unfortunate young boy
in the city, they were legends spoken of in reverence for anyone who knew of their legacy
and accomplishments, and fuck if Harry was not among the star-struck little boys at some
point.

He grew up on the streets scuffling with older boys, scrapping with adults and he was not
unfamiliar with the juvenile detention.

He had joined a gang even before he could properly recite his three times table, joined
another of a larger scale before he was 15, and then another before he reached 18, now at 32
he could sit at the head of the table with the other heads.

London was teeming with criminal activity, so much more than the media could ever know
and the government would ever want to be leaked to the general public and other countries.

England was to be a place of royalty, one of the few remaining monarchies that upheld the
great and powerful traditions, or whatever bullshit people spat nowadays.

What mattered most was Finn Wallace, or to be more accurate, the murder of Finn Wallace.

His death was a vacuum. Like a black hole suddenly appearing or a hole unexpectedly being
opened in a plane mid-flight.

Everyone was reeling from the loss and whether it was business or personal it was felt.

The space that Finn Wallace had once occupied could never be filled because as much as Ed
was an integral part of establishing the London Family he was the negotiator, the suave
diffuser, not the one who people shuddered in fear of or nodded in respect to.

Harry’s gang was established two years before they were noticed by Finn himself, the boys
and few girls all teenagers at the time but Harry had made sure they knew the laws of the
street he had learned the hard way.

Never bite the hand that would feed you, never trust the pigs, and make sure to give your
loyalty to a long presence never a short one.

His rowdy gang of twelve members had grown substantially, all chosen by Harry himself
after being vetted by Blaise and Ron.

They ran security at the docks, pubs, hotels, and clubs while being eyes and ears in
parliament and the police stations. It was an extensive network, strong but also very very
fragile and right now it was being stretched thin trying to find the cunt who had killed the
man Harry owed everything to.

For now Harry would remain in the Wallace household with several of his men on the
perimeter of the neighborhood to keep watch. It was all high alert and if Sean had anything to
do with it the high strung tension would remain until Finn’s killer was executed after being
tortured.

“You just going to stand there?”

Harry’s attention snapped towards the other man, younger than him by a few years but
without a doubt the new head of the Wallace Family.

Billy was shit, addiction a ticking time bomb and while Sean was hot-headed with a calm
indifference battling for domination, he was not an idiot, far from it, but he was still a child.

Inexperienced in leading a group of such massive scale and branching connections, and
despite what Sean thought of himself, that inexperience would only lead him into a murky pit
of quicksand.

Harry wanted to say that Ed Dumani would be the one to keep Sean on track as he often did
with Finn, but Sean was not his father as much as he was his father’s son. Sean was all anger
and grief, frustration and fear, emotions he could never let others see now he was sitting on
the throne and all eyes were on him.

“I asked you a question, you deaf now in one ear too?” Sean snapped, the tumbler of whiskey
gripped tight enough his knuckles were stark white.

Harry sighed softly, gloved hand turning the lock on the door before he turned fully towards
Sean who was balancing precariously against the wall. Glasses of aged whiskey would do
that to anyone after all, and Harry who was never a strong drinker often stopped at a thumb.

“If I were deaf in one ear too I would be pretty useless don’t you think?” Harry asked and
Sean snorted before knocking back the remaining liquor.

“You’re useless now ain'tcha? Where were you and your merry band of idiots when my father
was killed huh?”

“Finn only wanted Jack with him as he always did. Should I have tailed my boss and disobey
direct orders?”
“Yes! You fuckin’ should have you half blind piece o’ shit! If you had then he would still be
alive and not food for the fuckin’ worms with a hole in his fuckin’ face!” Sean hollered and
Harry did not so much as twitch when the glass exploded next to his head where it shattered
on impact from being thrown.

He said and did nothing as Sean threw another glass then the crystal bottle it was stored in,
the brown liquid covering the wall and carpet along with the fine pieces of crafted glass.

“Sean -”

“Sit in the fuckin’ chair Harry. Just sit and shut up.”

Harry complied without much fuss, black funeral clothes feeling itchy now hours after he
helped to carry Finn’s casket from the church to the site of burial. Sitting he planted his feet
firmly against the hardwood floor, hands over the armrests.

Sean stumbled, coordination fucked to hell but he was determined and who was Harry to stop
him. The newly crowned Family head glared down at Harry, blue eyes filled with so much
anguish Harry was tempted to look away.

“Sean.”

“I thought I told ya to shut it. Must really be a cripple if y-you -” Sean turned to the side and
burped loudly, face scrunching up at the aftertaste before he pushed forward and straddled the
lap of the man seated below him, hands fisting the expensive material of the suit jacket.

“I want you to fuck me.”

Harry groaned and looked away this time, his gaze fixed firmly on the wall and away from
the pink full lips and burning blue eyes, from the flushed cheeks and handsome face, and
most importantly the round ass grinding in his lap.

“Sean we can’t. You are grieving, it wouldn’t be right.”

The younger man snorted. “That’s exactly why you should bend me over this chair and screw
me fuckin’ stupid. Console me, Harry. Comfort me.”

Harry sat completely still, his moral compass fighting with the raging erection that had grown
with Sean’s words, cock now a rigid line in the tailor-sewn slacks and his hands tightened
around the armrests.

“Sean.” the word was much less of a murmur and now more of a growl, teeth clenched.

The youngest Wallace peered down at the man under him, blue eyes narrowing at the
handsome face, a jaw of shaved dark hair, a head full of equally dark hair, a brilliantly green
right eye that was mirrored by a pale white left one.

Ignoring the flinch, Sean traced the wicked scar running from Harry’s hairline, the beginning
of it reminiscent of a lightning bolt before it widened into an ugly jagged thing over the lid of
his eye, and down the middle of his cheek.
The injury costing Harry the vision from his left eye but the greatest respect and
acknowledgment from Finn, the former head favoring Harry, after all, anyone willing to take
a blade to the face meant for him was worthy of such.

Sean licked his lips, mouth dry from consuming so much hard liquor in a short span of time,
hands cupping Harry’s face he stared down at the man who he knew was one of the few in his
corner, had been since they first met 10 years ago and Sean was a snotty-nosed 17-year-old.

“Harry…”

Whether it was the wobble in his voice, or maybe the expression on his face, something
broke Harry’s resolve and he surged up like a tidal wave lips crashing against Sean’s in a
collision that was returned with as much gusto.

It was messy with too many clashing of teeth and just as much tongue, saliva running down
both their chins and Harry for all his indifference was no slouch, hands grasping Sean’s
thighs in the same grip he had held the armrests with and in one movement he lifted the new
syndicate king.

Sean moaned, toes curling from the kisses and bites adorning his skin, nipples perked to the
peaks of sensitivity and cock curving at his belly, precum already dribbling from the tip.
Panting he tore away from the bruising kiss and reached low to grasp Harry’s own prick in
hand, the older man hissing at the grip and throbbing all at once.

“You get bigger every time we fuck. Put it in me, lemme feel you spread me open Harry.”
Sean panted.

Harry groaned again, forehead resting against the younger man’s shoulder.

Sean had a way with words, much too dirty and never failing in convincing Harry to do
stupid shit - like fucking Finn Wallace’s favorite son over his father’s desk while Sean was
still in his private school uniform. The torn and wrinkled beyond recovery uniform was a
pleasant memory.

Sean’s asshole was a tight pink pucker, unprepared and unused for almost two weeks. Tsking
Harry spat in his hand and wet the tip of his cock, the head so sensitive he grunted, balls
tightening.

He would have preferred to not do this, to find some sort of lube and make it easier but Sean
didn’t want easy, or even loving. Like this with his eyes burning, knuckles white and body so
tense like a too-tight cord; Sean wanted to be fucked.

“Don’t look away from me. If you do, I stop.” Harry instructed and Sean nodded, gaze
hungry as it was furious.

Smearing the spit over the twitching hole he spat so another gob of saliva landed on it, his
hand guiding the fat tip in, both groaning when he eventually slipped in.
Sean’s sharp curse quickly morphed into a shout of pain when Harry shoved the entire length
in, the tight hole twitching around the rigid length in quick minute spasms, trembling and
shuddering around him as if pleading.

Harry was an obedient minion of sorts even if here and now in the room he held all the
power, could make Sean Fucking Wallace beg him on his knees if he wanted to, but they
were both tired, bodies as exhausted as their minds and all he wanted - needed was for Sean
to feel some semblance of peace even if it was a few short hours of numb sleep.

“S-slow down! Haa-fuck! Too h-haa-hard!” Harry soaked up each cry he punched from
Sean’s gut with his cock, the nails digging into his back leaving bloody lines then ran down
to his slacks.

Forcing the pale thighs further apart Harry counted on Sean to continue to cling to him, to
hold firm and strong as he would have to from now on as the emperor of London. There
would be no room for weakness, no excuse for mistakes and meekness, because from now on
every criminal eye would acknowledge Sean not as Finn Wallace’s son but as the head of the
drug syndicate.

Leaning down to press Sean further against the desk Harry licked at the flushed cheek where
angry tears stained, Sean’s expression furious but Harry could see under the glamor of rage
where he was cracking around the seams to form spider webs that connected to the center.

The saliva was doing shit and the unprepared hole clung to Harry’s cock in an almost painful
grip warning him against pulling out, so Harry drove in harder until the desk under them
creaked and moved, the huge redwood inching further and further across the room with each
thrust.

“You’re a fuckin’ wanker! A fuckin’ goddamned asshole!” Sean cried and Harry only
hummed, tongue hot against Sean’s red cheek and salt tinging on the pink muscle as he
consumed more and more of his tears until there was simply too much to swallow.

Clinging to the younger man Harry hid Sean’s face in his chest to hide the howl from the new
Wallace Head, hot sticky cum landing between, Harry grunting, balls clenching as he emptied
them within the convulsing insides.

The howl morphing into a wail and if his orgasm had not made him limp the heart-wrenching
sobs would have, Sean holding onto Harry like a lifeline he was afraid would slip if he
loosened the grip even slightly.

Harry said nothing to console him because there was nothing to say, no words of comfort he
could offer when the only person who could make it all better was six feet underground.

What he could do however was promise vengeance, retribution that would not heal Sean’s
heart but help to slowly close the gaping hole in his chest.

Gripping the honey brown hair Harry stared down at the red face, nose a red cerise with snot
and tears intermingling. It was not a pretty picture, far from it, but it was Sean at his rawest
 and his worse and like this Harry would accept the other like this several thousand times
before he embraced the cold persona.

“I will find them for you and drag them at your feet. Whoever did this, will die by your hand
Sean. I swear.”

It was a huge promise, one that would weigh on Harry until he found the culprit and made do,
but this was his job and as always he would do it to perfection no matter how many bodies
had to fall for that to happen.

Chapter End Notes

I'm only one episode in so far in Gangs of London but holy crap, this thing is bloody so
if you are squeamish about murder and gore this is not one for you.

I also have some Tommy Shelby (Peaky Blinders) goodness to post. Hopefully without
fail I should be able to post a new chapter consistently every 2 weeks until this build-up
of chapters I have going runs out.

Classes are coming to an end and assignments are due by the bulk, then exams directly
after, and then I still have my thesis to finish before the middle of May arrives. I'm
drowning guys, the pressure is real, but I love to read your comments! They are like
little treats in my inbox and I adore them, you all have no idea.

Stay safe guys!

 Harry/Gojo Satoru
Chapter Summary

Haruya treated him as though he was the most precious thing in his world, always gentle
and never demanding. (Harry/Gojo - Jujutsu Kaisen)

Chapter Notes

As promised, the Harry/Gojo chapter!

See the end of the chapter for more notes

Satoru bit his lip to stifle the sounds threatening to escape with every press and stroke of the
man above him.

His legs were thrown haphazardly over the broad shoulders and gravity allowed the thick
cock to glide in deep, then deeper into him until his eyes rolled back from the ecstasy.

“Haru...ya…” Satoru panted, crystal blue eyes for all they were worth were blurred by tears,
tears that were licked and kissed away by a tender mouth.

“Does it hurt?”

Satoru shook his head. It could never hurt, not with how gentle Haruya always held him, not
that he wanted pain when his daily job was painful enough as it was.

Haruya’s green eyes that reminded Satoru of fresh crisp spring grass stared down at him, the
sharp gaze watching every flickering emotion that graced his face. There was not much to
watch when all he could express were awe and bliss, interchangeable but immutable.

Haruya pressed more of his weight down onto the smaller man and Gojo clung tighter to him,
a mewl bubbling from his lips that beckoned him closer, the kiss tasting sweet like the Dango
Satoru had consumed earlier and Haruya melted into it.

He licked at Gojo’s lips before slipping further in, Gojo lapsing between letting Haruya have
his way and lazily sucking against the older man’s tongue.

Satoru’s belly was already a mess of cum, the two times already that Haruya had tenderly
fucked orgasm after orgasm from him, his shoulders decorated with red lines and neck
patterned by bites.
Outside the thin rice paper doors, the children of his Dojo and orphanage alike laughed as
they ran down the hallway and Satoru’s eyes widened when Haruya sped up the slow and
deep thrusts, his hips snapping and cock persistently rubbing against the spot in him that
made him see stars.

He covered his mouth, voice escaping now as Haruya continued to pummel his insides, cock
plowing into his hole with the determination of a man on a mission.

He could feel another orgasm building, the telltale pressure in his guts and the dribbling
precum hanging from his tip increasing and intensifying. He could feel it now, right there!

Haruya in a show of agility that betrayed his size flipped them over quickly so they were in a
seated position and his haori thrown over Gojo’s lap to hide his erection and some of the
dried mess.

Barely a second later three children burst into the room muddy from head to toe while
pushing and shoving one another.

“I said I would tell Haruya-sensei!”

“No! It should be me since I picked the most lotus roots!”

“No you didn’t! You stole mines you big meanie!”

Gojo stared at the three children no older than 8 but eerily reminded him of his own students.
Haruya sighed, his hand under the jacket moving to stroke Gojo’s cock.

“Children.” he called out, the two boys and one girl perking up at the sound of his voice.

“Sensei! We’re finished our chores!” they said in unison, bickering forgotten in place of
wanting praise.

“So I’ve heard. But you seem to have forgotten your manners along the way. What did I tell
you three about knocking and waiting for acknowledgment.”

Gojo ducked his head, face burning in shame as precum spurted from his tip under Haruya’s
skillful hand, the older man’s cock throbbing inside him still.

The children froze, accusing eyes aimed at one another at the chastisement instead of praise.

“We’re sorry sensei!”

Haruya hummed. “And do you not see Satoru here with me? Where are your manners.”

Satoru choked a little when he was greeted by the three, blue eyes looking up and with as
much nonchalance as he could summon he smile at them.

“Gojo-sempai why’s your face so red?”

“And why are you sittin’ in sensei’s lap?”

Three heads tilted and Gojo’s face burned even more. His brain that normally functioned
faster than the average human froze when Haruya shifted, the rigid meat spreading him on
the inside moving with the action. The calloused hand stroking Gojo’s prick faster.

“Satoru is on my lap because he neglected in stretching after training so now I am helping to

stretch him out.”

Gojo would punch the man if he could move without embarrassing himself.

“And his face is so red because he was caught red-handed by you three. Adults that don’t do
what they preach will always get embarrassed when found out.”

The three impressionable children ‘ooohed’ and one even went so far as to wag a finger at
Gojo.

“Now unless you want more chores go and take a bath so you can help Reika-san in the
kitchen.”

The children cheered, bowing quickly to both adults before they exited the room, the door
slamming shut, and Haruya held Gojo down gently onto the tatami mat, large hands grasping
his waist before pulling out his cock slowly.

Gojo groaned with the retreat, voice reaching a high-pitched yelp when Haruya shoved it
back in, balls slapping against the curve of the creamy skin and it was like that he held him.

Satoru could not smother his cries anymore, the position sending Haruya’s cock deeper than
before and the quick snaps of his hips rendering Gojo useless.

The weight on his back was familiar, tan and broad frame covering his, and the high body
heat warming Gojo outside just as it did on the inside. A tongue licked the back of his neck
and Gojo could feel Haruya’s cock jerking in him, fat length twitching.

“I want… I want it Haruya…” Gojo fought against his own orgasm, a long line of precum
hanging from the tip as if in a warning.

Haruya licked over the sweaty nape again, teeth nipping the pale skin “Tell me.”

Satoru’s eyes squeezed shut, heart racing and head growing dizzy from denying himself,
Haruya’s voice though soft was deep, the same deep voice that had coaxed him from his
darkest of places, that had congratulated him where others had just held the expectation.

“In me…” saliva dribbled from his bottom lip, unconsciously drooling as Haruya snapped his
hips forward, pounding into him, hands tight but not bruising though sometimes Satoru
wanted him to leave evidence of their lovemaking.

“I want it in me please.” he whimpered, with his nails digging into the tatami mat Gojo
shuddered, hole clenching tight around Haruya as he came, his body lax and pliant under
Haruya’s whose breaths turned haggard.
Gojo could feel him pulsing inside, could feel every twitch and throb of the veined meat
before the explosion of cum flooded him, the feeling so warm that Satoru moaned aloud,
walls spasming around him as if determined to milk him dry.

Haruya grunted and rolled them over onto their side, his large hand rubbing soothing circles
over Gojo’s belly. He normally remained inside until he went soft, cock nestled in the wet
silky heat.

Tonguing his nape again Haruya pressed a soft kiss to Satoru’s neck, his green eyes taking in
the relaxed shoulders and the residing flush over pale cheeks.

“You’re worried about something.” Haruya prodded and Gojo hummed in affirmative and
that was the end of that.

Haruya didn’t ask about work unless Satoru willing told him, instead he did everything he
could to make Satoru as relaxed and happy as possible until he had to return to Tokyo and his
job.

Drawing back his limp cock slipped out and seconds later a following of cum dribbled from
the gaping hole, Satoru’s pucker clenching down around nothing only to open wide again.
Bracing his arms on both sides of the sorcerer Haruya grinned, salt peppering the dark raven
black curls along the temples.

"Let’s get you bathed and stomach filled with something other than my semen yea?”

Satoru peered up at the older man, crystal blue eyes taking in his face as he did hundreds of
times, each new crow's feet or sprinkle of white hair cataloged and memorized. Reaching up
Gojo wrapped his arms around Haruya’s neck and carefully tugged him down for a kiss,
tongue licking at the bottom lip to the top, then between when Haruya opened up for him.

Haruya treated him as though he was the most precious thing in his world, always gentle and
never demanding. Whereas those in the sorcerer world saw him as either an overpowered ally
or enemy Haruya only saw him.

Breaking the kiss Satoru smiled up at his lover and friend. “A bath hm? Or another
impromptu round?” Haruya only picked him up and Gojo squawked when he was thrown
over a broad shoulder.

Here he could forget about Tokyo and monsters and the end of the world. Right here in the
middle of the country where nature dominated and the people were genuinely kind, far
enough away from the big city and the continuous movement and rush that he could breathe
and just let himself be spoiled.

"You're secretly a ruffian, what would the kids think hm?" Satoru asked, jolting when a heavy
hand smacked his ass lightly.

The walk to the small handmade hot spring and the subsequent kiss washed all teasing from
him, Haruya's arms around his waist and Gojo's legs around the older man's waist. Right here
with Haruya was where he felt safest, was where he would say was home.
Chapter End Notes

It was a bit short but I hope you enjoyed it! Imma just go back to finding memes about
how stressful uni is *cries*.
 Harry/Wade Wilson
Chapter Summary

Wade has a doctor's appointment. Or the one where Harry is a miracle healer.

Chapter Notes
See the end of the chapter for notes

This guy was a quack. He was 99.9% sure that the man on the other side of the desk was
about to tell him some shit like buy derma cream or get plastic surgery, and he would have to
scoff in disgust because duh -

He tried all that already.

Crossing his legs Deadpool continued to stare at the so-called doctor who performed
miracles, or at least that was what a bunch of guys had been blabbering about before he shot
up their hideout. Certificates on the walls and a spanking white doctor’s coat. The nameplate
on the desk read Harry J. Potter.

Potter rhymed with Nutter. Deadpool snorted.

Said doctor’s office was a high-end luxury condo so high up he was sure they were in direct
paths of planes and it would make him go splat rather than broken bones. Maybe if all else
failed he could try that...

Turning to the side he smirked “I could make a horrible joke there but I’m better than that.
My daily affirmations say that I am.”

The doctor looked up from the files, scans, and photos of Wade’s body “Pardon?”

Deadpool twisted back to smile at the doctor under his mask “Nothing, nothing. Just talking
to myself.”

Harry’s lips curled into half a smile, expression a bit bemused but not judging. “Is that
something you do often?”

Wade shrugged “Kinda? It sorta disturbs people when I turn and talk into the camera of life.
Like I pretend there’s a camera guy standing riiiight there just watching everything I do, and
it would be kinda impolite to ignore him all day so I just talk to him every now and then.”

Harry leaned forward, his fingers lacing together “So the cameraman is you?”
Deadpool mimicked the doctor “No, the cameraman is the cameraman. Why would I be the
cameraman?”

Harry paused before chuckling “My bad Mr. Wilson.” sitting back Harry clapped his hands
and motioned to the assortment of files and photos on his desk.

“If I had to hazard a guess I would say that when your regeneration ability manifested while
it prevented the cancer from killing you it also made your healthy cells and cancerous ones
unable to die thus your ability. If it did not cause you such grief I would say it’s utterly
fascinating.”

Wade’s jaw clenched behind the mask “So you’re saying you can’t help me then.”

“I never said that. Your case is unique. Whereas many of my patients come with normal
illnesses such as deformations, growths, brain diseases and such none of them have the
inability to die. What I do will not be a permanent fix, but with regular touch-ups Mr. Wilson
I am confident you will be able to walk about without hiding.”

Deadpool’s suit squeaked when he leaned forward to point a finger at the doctor “I don’t hide
. This is a super suit.”

“Yet you are not a superhero.” Harry retorted with a smile when the other floundered for
words.

“ Fine . Now tell me about how you’re gonna give me back my beautiful face.”

Harry’s smile widened before standing and crooking a finger for Wade to follow.

“You know last time I trusted some shady doctor I was tortured, turned into an old potato,
burned alive, and then became who I am.” he chirped and Harry without missing a beat upon
opening a door down the hallway for him snorted.

“Are you Batman?”

Wade tripped over nothing, eyes widening and hand going to his heart. “Am I a billionaire
playboy who practices karate on criminals? Golly I wish .” he hopped up onto the bed thingy
that kind of looked like a chair.

Harry chuckled and closed the door “Now my methods for healing are all different. What I
may do for someone will not apply to you and vice versa.”

“Uh huh. Now, what are you gonna do to me Doc?” Deadpool’s legs swung back and forth
from his perch.

“Are you gonna cut me open and play charade with my insides? Poke at me with needles?
Chemotherapy? Voodoo?”

“I am actually going to have to have sex with you Mr. Wilson.”

There was a stretched silence in the office and Wade sputtered. Not that he would object to
screwing around with the man, Vanessa and her modern tendencies got him quite used to
having his butt played with like a foosball table.

And when he was away for months at a time sometimes he felt as though he could make it
big in porn.

Like really big in porn.

Like Tera Patrick big.

“You talking about the PG-13 rating of X-Men or we talking about Logan rated.” Deadpool
turned to the side again “You all saw what I did there? Strokes of literal genius I tell you.”

Harry smiled, fresh latex gloves on. “I will need you to strip out of your suit Mr. Wilson.”

“Can’t you just cut a hole and ravish me Doc?” Wade asked because while he was not exactly
shy, his body was not something he liked to parade.

“I know this may be hard for you to do Mr. Wilson, but I need you to trust me. If you feel
unsafe in any way I give you permission to punch me.”

“Fine, but the mask stays on.”

This was not fine, this was in no way or definition of the word and Wade regretted ever
agreeing to this shit, and who the fuck invented stirrups?! Clenching the sides of the
examination chair Wade trembled, drool running down his chin where the mask was rolled up
as per the request of the doctor.

His cock was twitching like crazy, belly hot with the need to cum but he was unable to, even
with the fingers in him persistently rubbing his prostate. Wade whimpered, chest heaving as
he dry orgasmed again around the tight black cock ring and with a wet pop the doctor’s four
fingers left him, long strings of lube following in their wake.

Wade wheezed and Harry watched as the stretched hole remained gaped, the healing slowed
down a bit now.

“Very good. I believe we can begin now.”

If Wade had the energy to form a cognitive thought he would have been mind-boggled.
Begin? Then what the fuck was this?

“I needed to slow down your regenerative abilities a bit. Enough so the treatment will be
successful but not so much that I turn it off completely.”

Wade grunted, too tired to do much else. Peaking up he watched as the doctor discarded the
gloves, a thick line presented clearly in the black jeans he wore.
“Is that a weapon of destruction doc or you just really happy to see me?” Wade asked,
partially teasing, mostly curious.

“Yes.”

Wade watched as the doctor unzipped his pants and stepped out of them before removing the
simple shirt. Under the clothes he looked less like a doctor and more like a merc, skin
peppered with old silver and pink scars. He could interrogate the man later but for now -

“Holy shit…” he muttered, eyes widening at the sight of the magnificent cock.

His was nothing to scoff at but even Wade had an appreciation for the larger things in life.
Vanessa would be so jelly when he told her about this.

Pouring a generous amount of lube on his cock Harry came forward and aligned himself with
Wade’s hole, the hero panting in excitement, pink tongue flickering out to wet his dry lips.

“Are you ready Mr. Wilson?”

Wade swallowed and pressed his stiff and aching cock closer to his belly so his view would
be unobstructed.

“You’re about to rearrange my insides with that monster doc. Call me Wade.”

Harry tried his best to concentrate on the task at hand, to help Wade Wilson regain his
confidence, not that it was difficult to, but this was bordering on being unethical.

Wade wailed into the examination chair, one hand tied to the black chair and the next behind
his back, a pool of spit wetting the chair where Wade’s face was pressed.

Harry shoved himself in again to bring forth a squeal from the man, Wade’s legs shaking and
if not for his tied hand he would have dropped to the ground, his hole squeezing down around
Harry’s cock like a glove.

“How are we doing Wade?”

The anti-hero just sobbed into the chair, his cock still trapped by the ring and there was an
impressive collection of precum on the ground thus far, the man’s cock leaking like a loose
faucet every time Harry so much as rubbed against his prostate.

He was trying to draw out the session, part of him greedy for more but the rational side
reasoned it was for Wade’s benefit. The longer his magic could seep into the man’s system
the longer the temporary fix would sustain itself.

Wade’s insides were sopping wet, Harry’s cock reaching deep inside the pliable walls that
clung to him whenever he tried to retreat and he would tease the stretched rim just so to
watch Wade’s hole gape wide.

This was most certainly unethical.

Pressing closer so he could lick a wet line over the back of Wade’s neck, the skin mottled
slightly but not close to what it was originally, the merc’s body glowing a healthy tan colour
by the minute.

He bore down on the body under him so every inch rested within Wade’s ass, the anti-hero
crying anew again and Harry reached up to slowly pull the mask off, short dirty blond hair
covering his scalp now and Harry grabbed it, fingers griping the newly regrown mane.

Wade’s legs twitched as he parted them wider as if it would help accommodate the girth
currently buried in his guts, the mammoth of a cock pressing deep into his channel. He
wanted, needed to cum so badly it hurt, a literal physical ache that was only increased to the
point of delirium each time the doctor fucked into him. It was neverending, a constant cycle
of needing to cum, pain, pleasure.

“Wade.” Harry’s breath tickled his ear and Wade moaned, his own dick purpling now, the
veins bulging.

“I will allow you to orgasm if you beg for it. Will you be my good boy and beg me to let you
cum?”

Wade nodded in a hurry, drool smearing over his cheek and forehead and it took two tries
before he found his voice.

“Pl… please…” he croaked, asshole convulsing around Harry’s prick. “Ple-please… let me
cum…”

Harry simply pulled out halfway and rammed all 12 inches back inside, the wet squelch in
the near-silent room was loud but not as loud as the resonating howl from Wade.

“Pleasepleaseplease I wanna cum! Let me cum please!”

“I’m not convinced Wade. Assure me you are my good boy.” Harry drawled.

“I’m good! I promise! I’ll be your good boy, your fuck hole, the place you can dump all your
cum!”

Harry hummed and began to move again, hips slamming forward into the slick hole, and with
a little magic the cock ring dissolved from around Wade’s prick.

“I’ll be your whore doc! I’ll be your good lil' whore so please lemme -” Wade choked on his
words, body spinning around so he was on his back and had just enough thought process to
realize he was cumming.

Harry groaned, his balls emptying in the deliciously taut hole, cum pooling into Wade’s guts
and the excess dripping past his rim.

All Wade heard was white noise, rushing and consuming, cum spraying from his cock to land
on his chest and face, the spunk falling onto his lips and open mouth, his eyes closing when a
glob dribbled from his forehead and ran down his eyelid.
 Harry allowed his heart to calm before he pulled out, cock limp and covered in his own cum
and the lube, forest green eyes peering down at the unconscious man.

“Good job Mr. Wilson. Your therapy is complete.” Harry tilted forward to lick the stiff pink
nipple that was dotted with cum before stretched with a contented smile.

Wade woke up to a hand petting his hair, the doctor’s focus on a book thick enough to brain
someone with, and Wade would have made a joke about it but he froze, shaky hands coming
to touch the top of his head. Hair? Staring at his hands he looked at the smooth skin, his
torso, and what was not hidden in the soft three-quarter pants the same.

“You healed me…”

“Temporarily.” Harry reminded him, fingers digging into a spot on Wade’s scalp that made
the anti-hero stifle a moan.

“Which means I gotta come back for more therapy sessions.”

“Logically speaking, yes.” Harry agreed.

Wade rolled over so he could peer up at the man who loaned him his lap on the stupidly
comfortable couch. There was silence with the only sound being the turning of a page.

“I’ll call you Daddy then.”

Harry paused and blinked down at the grinning man who was now busy admiring his new
skin. Yanking Wade’s head back by his hair Harry stared into the hazel eyes full of unfiltered
mischief.

“You will be my good boy, yes?” he murmured and Wade’s tan cheeks flushed pink.

“Yes Daddy.”

Chapter End Notes

I think it was BeautyOfDeath that suggested this prompt. Wah-la.

I'm off back to my crypt. I have an essay to finish, a psychology proposal to start and a
thesis that is nowhere near completed, then I have to beg for two extensions for the latter
two things. I cryy.

Stay safe guys!

 Harry/Thorin Oakenshield
Chapter Summary

Harry has a crush on Thorin, Thorin hates being called cute. (Harry/Thorin - a prequel of
sorts to The Hobbit)

Chapter Notes
See the end of the chapter for notes

He had given them the land out of the goodness of his heart, an act that drew suspicion and
accusations but he weathered each bitter word until the dwarves either calmed or submitted to
the angry roar of the dark-haired blue-eyed one upfront.

There was no mystery as to why a caravan of dwarves was traveling so far, word reached far
and wide about the fall of the kingdom, and Harimir despite preferring a quiet existence
allowed the caravan to settle on his land with acres of wide fields and huge trees.

He had protected the land since he crashed in the strange world, kept the earth fertile and the
animals flourishing, and every few generations or so there was an exceptional creature to be
found among the herds and packs. Those that displayed abnormal intelligence he sought out
and raised himself, these animals nursing from the magic embedded in the land more than
their mother’s milk.

Harry watched as the dark hair of the dwarf hung down the muscular back, sweat beading
along tan lines forged by hot tireless days toiling earth and fire, and Harimir grabbed a fist
full of the dark locks, hand twisting the long hair around his fist.

Thorin groaned loudly at the rough treatment, calloused hands squeezing Harimir’s legs to
keep his balance as he moved his ass up and down, the oil making the passage of the
abnormally large human cock smooth as he fucked himself on it.

Harry let his gaze linger on the magnificent sight, the hole that had been virgin tight now
taking his cock, all eleven inches buried into clenching wet walls that suckled at him like a
hungry babe.

Dwarves were complicated creatures that much he realized.

They were testy and grumpy beings who loved money and stone and saw any acts of
affection not from their immediate family and friends as suspicious and perhaps also
horrendous.

Had his feeling been easily hurt Harimir would have long since given up on trying to woo the
shorter male whose eyes glowed like the purest of azure crystals, aflame brighter than the fire
he forged. Thorin was an alluring creature who walked with pride but weighted down by an
invisible force.

Harry did not once bring up his knowledge of knowing the dwarf was the prince and now
King of his people, nor did he once bring up the fate of the many many lost souls now
trapped with the dragon.

Instead, he brought him flowers and jewels he allowed the giant mole that lived under the
earth to harvest for him, precious stones unlike any Thorin had seen before.

He gifted metals like mithril to him and helped to build a new home for a newly wedded
couple.

He played with the dwarflings and allowed his friends, a giant wolf, a horse of great
magnitude, and a stag with gigantic curving antlers to entertain the curious children.

Harry gave advice on how to plant specific foods, ways to enrich the already healthy soil
further, where was best to fish, the best hunting grounds, and of course he assisted in making
weapons for the battle prone group.

He did everything he could think of until the icy politeness turned into gruff kindness and the
other finally called him Harry . Thorin eventually warming up to him enough they could
share a drink together and it was on the fourth drinking session he witnessed the King laugh,
a soft but lovely chuckle that went straight to Harry’s heart and cock.

A part of him became satisfied with the easy-going friendship of sorts, they never spoke of
anything personal or spoke much at all instead they rested in one another’s company with a
pitcher of strong ale Harry brewed, a favorite among the dwarves.

He had given up mostly on ever being anything more than a drinking buddy for the wayward
King until Thorin set his cup aside and reached over, fingers deftly unlaced Harry’s trousers
and he had been so surprised he did nothing to stop it.

Now Thorin was riding him, a furious snapping of his hips downward with each descent
punctuated by a deep moan, hole spread wide around Harry’s cock and he knew the King
would be left gaping at the end. Harry let Thorin have his fun, let him take his pleasure and
frustration, let him rile himself up to the peak of ecstasy before he took the reigns.

Thorin’s yelp of surprise was cuter than it should be, Harry’s hand holding the dwarf down
against the grassy floor of the forest where they drank in silence, his cock slicked with oil
cushioned between the two bubbly cheeks of firm muscle.

Rubbing it over the loosened crease that clenched down around nothing and squeezed some
of the excess oil out Harry guided the tip of the thick length back in and relished in Thorin’s
deep mewl as the veined shaft descended down into the depths of his guts.

This was how he held Thorin, the King pinned to the ground as Harry fucked him raw, each
gut-punching thrust causing the dwarf to cry out but not in pain, Thorin's hands clenching
fistfuls of grass and the trembling of the powerful back only bellied the pleasure that was
whispered by sweet moans and cries.

It wasn’t long before the pitch of Thorin’s moans changed, once low and reedy they shifted to
a modulation higher and frantic and Harry watched with a perverse amusement as Thorin’s
muscles bunched and his hole clenched down tight around the mammoth cock invading his
ass.

The King of the Mountains bellowed out his release, a shout of bliss that ended even as his
own fairly thick but shorter cock continued to spew rope after rope of milky white onto the
forest floor, and Harry was polite enough to sit still.

Thorin went limp, ass raised high and upper body laying almost flat with a small pool of cum
under him.

If Harry had to guess he would say this was the first orgasm the dwarf had gotten since the
destruction of his home more than a year ago.

Well, that was as cute as it was admirable.

Harry pulled out and Thorin groaned softly only to make a questioning sound when he was
turned over onto his back, blue eyes puzzled and skin flushed a pretty red from his post-
orgasm and exertion.

Harry simply raised the thick legs, dark hair decorating each brawny limb that was then
spread wide. Harry was by no means a small or short man, his height reaching close to 6 feet
5 inches making the size difference more evident as he hovered over the dwarven King.

“What are you doing?” Thorin questioned, genuinely curious and Harry snorted softly in
amusement and answered by taking his cock in hand and pressing the burgeoning tip back
against the weeping hole, Thorin’s eyes widening and his jaw clenching when Harry shoved
the entirety in to rest balls deep within.

Harry liked Thorin very much yes, figured that should the dwarf decide to return his
affections he would eventually fall deeply in love with the King without a throne, but for
now

“Agnh! Haah! Argh!”

Harry fucked into Thorin like a wild beast, hips snapping forward with such force he moved
the shorter male along the grass until Thorin gave in and clung to him, his face pressed into
Harry’s chest as Harry used his hole.

Harry would visit the town several miles to the North on the days he felt like having sex, the
town having more than enough willing females and males alike who all gaped at his cock,
who were all left unconscious but satisfied and sought him out whenever he returned.

Thorin had simply taken his length in stride, the only indication of surprise was a slight
raising of how brows.
 Now he was clawing at Harry’s back, words mumbled in Khuzdul, garbled and slurred and
Harry felt another gushing of cum land on his belly as Thorin orgasmed again.

He wanted to coo at the man, to call him cute and adorable but that would only garner him a
glare, perhaps a fist, so he continued on with plowing his friend for all he was worth,
Thorin’s legs spread wide and tensed as he continued to fill the forest clearing with howls.

Harry’s breath turned ragged, fingers digging groves into the earth and nail lengthening into
sharp claws hidden from Thorin’s view, his cock engorging a bit more before he came, the
dwarf shuddering at the immensity of cum filling him.

It was almost never-ending, more and more cum being poured into his guts until the muscled
abdomen distended from the enormity of Harry’s cum with the excess gushing out, Thorin
groaning in discomfort when Harry pulled out slowly.

Brushing back his dark hair, the sweaty locks slicking backward so he could stare down at the
exhausted but coherent dwarf who observed him right back as his hands explored his raised
belly with mild curiosity. There was a question in Thorin’s eyes but just as Harry did not pry
Thorin chose to do the same and looked away to peer down at his distended belly with a
grimace, cheeks flushing more the longer he touched the cum baby within him.

Harry could not help himself, he really tried to resist it but as he stared at Thorin and the
beautiful flush across his tanned cheeks the urge became too hard to refuse.

“You are utterly adorable Thorin.” he cooed.

The punch to his thigh was worth every moment that the exiled King struggled to get up and
then swing, his face burning brighter than before up to the tip of his ears.

Chapter End Notes

Hiya this is the ghost of Theses-Still-In-Progress, I hope you all are doing well and
enjoyed the chapter.

*floats away making ghosts sounds*

 Harry/Riddick A/B/O
Chapter Summary

Riddick found out there was a lot about himself he had yet to discover. (Chronicles of
Riddick 2004)

Chapter Notes
See the end of the chapter for notes

They writhed against one another, hands clawing at every crevice of available skin and their
teeth mimicking bruises along one another’s necks.

Harry had been patient. He had waited for months for the man under him to reach his
suppressed majority and now he was being rewarded for his patience as the cave smelled of
only rich, heady pheromones that spoke of fertility and omega in need.

Sucking another bruise along the tanned skin, teeth covering the bruise with a bite that broke
the skin and he felt Riddick shudder under him, groan loud and so tangible it made the pet
Jackel that laid at the mouth of the cave look at them.

Bringing his hand up from between Riddick’s thighs he stared at the mess that decorated his
palm and fingers and under the pale gaze of Riddick he licked it clean, tongue swiping the
cum from between his fingers and the line of it that ran down his wrist.

For years after the Extermination of his people Harry had wandered the planet alone among
the corpses, surviving on what was left and fueled by an anger to so powerful he fed on it
more than he did food. The planet molded him, the spirits of the dead reinforced him, and the
drive to recreate what was, only better and more powerful drove him across solar systems to
be right where he was now.

Shirah was useful he supposed, her guidance and visions led him to Riddick after all and for
that he was grateful.

“Come on… put it in… put it in me…” Riddick mumbled, pale eyes squinting up at the
figure of the naked man as he palmed his still hard cock. He forgot just how many times he
had come and made a mess of both himself and the man’s mouth or hand but no matter what
he still remained painfully stiff.

It was maddening. It felt as though he was being edged towards something explosive,
something that would forever change him and he wanted it, his body craving whatever it was
to come.
Riddick’s head was a mess of dizziness and euphoria, body and instincts telling him to
submit, something he had never done for anyone until he met the fellow Furyan, and now his
instincts screamed at him to present , to show the silent male his most private of parts and so
he did.

Rolling over onto unsteady knees Riddick panted as his world tilted before it righted again,
the fire crackling and the soft furs Harry had provided him softening the hard ground.

Spreading his legs he let his body drop into position. It felt natural how he knew exactly what
to do, his chest low on the bed of furs and his ass high in the air.

Months ago before meeting the other Furyan Riddick would have rather died than be caught
in such a position, utterly submissive, vulnerable, he would have fought tooth and nail before
he allowed anyone to make him submit. Riddick had believed he was an alpha, an apex
predator of his species, and superior to humans, and in a sense he was right.

He was superior to humans and some of his race but he was not an alpha.

During his stint with the mud demon venom, even half-mad with fever and hallucinations his
body had responded to the contact with the foreign pheromones of Harry, a biological setting
that had remained dormant for his entire life had begun to unfurl then and there.

Through trial and error, the two had grown close and Riddick by instinct or force had lowered
his guard and all his walls and simply let the other Furyan in, now he wanted Harry inside.

Reaching back, body flexible despite the muscles, Riddick touched his asshole and found the
area sopping wet, the sensation making him moan. He was mumbling again, brain dissolving
further but a part of him was calling out to Harry, lips mouthing the name of the Alpha
Furyan as he teased his hole, thick fingers rubbing over the rim.

Harry had spent months patiently waiting for Riddick to trust him, he hunted for them both,
provided materials and a good den in the grasslands, even encouraged the Jackel to seek out a
mate and increase the numbers as a source of protection for Riddick.

Whether it was a biological instinct or the man genuinely appreciating his presence Harry had
found himself one step closer to obtaining not just a mate but an Omega.

His green eyes watched with rapt attention as Riddick’s fingers slipped and slid over his hole,
the translucent slick dribbling down the cleft of Riddick’s ass and down his balls. His heart
had doubled in pace since the initial spike of pheromones that evening, his cock had been
rigid soon after, and now hours later with the cave smelling of fertile omega and his body
prompting him to breed Harry let what little restraint he had left crumble away.

The touch of his hand as it moved smoothly over the hairless ass, the muscular cheeks round
and tan and nestled between the two was the tiny, virgin tight hole that Riddick was teasing
with his own fingers.

Riddick had once confessed to Harry that he had only ever been attracted to females in his
life. Guiding the burgeoning tip of his cock to the winking hole Harry nudged it against the
rim and elated at the slippery feeling.

It would hurt Riddick but Harry would make sure the pain would be infinitesimal compared
to the pleasure.

He guided the broad tip to the weeping crease again, Riddick opening up without prompt to
let Harry in and they both groaned as the head of Harry’s cock breached him.

Riddick’s hands gripped the thick furs, knuckles turning white as Harry continued to push
into him, the heavy cock stretching the almost inflexible hole wider. The slick made the
descent easier but Riddick was too snug for the size of Harry but he could not stop even if he
wanted to.

“Bear with me.” he murmured, voice husky and throat dry despite Harry swallowing
mouthfuls of saliva time and time again.

Riddick groaned in pain and Harry watched as his back went taut with tension. He could not
pacify him yet, not when he was still halfway in, instead he tried to soothe him, thumbs
pressing and rubbing at the small of Riddick’s back.

Riddick was wetter on the inside, a heated condensation that made Harry even more
engorged, the soft spikes that laid along the skin of his cock filling out with blood as Riddick
clenched and squeezed around him, a trait that only Alpha Furyans possessed.

Draping himself over the back of the man under him Harry elicited a deep moan from
Riddick when he pulled out a few inches only to thrust back inside and force the remainder
in. Riddick howl echoed in the cave and the Jackel guarding the entrance whimpered at its
master’s voice, long ears lowering.

Now that he was fully rooted in, Riddick’s hole pulsing around him in a never-ending cycle
of suction and contracting Harry wanted to apologize but the only sound that came forth was
a growl that reverberated throughout the cave.

Furyans were a peaceful but warrior race, more spiritual than vengeful but the mating of a
new couple was anything but peaceful.

Harry pinned Riddick’s wrists as he drove forward, the fully erect spikes dragging along the
sensitive channel until Riddick cried out his release again, his cock jumping from the
aggressive snapping of Harry’s hips and cum spraying to dirty the furs below.

Riddick was in both heaven and hell, the initial pain of penetration gone and replaced quickly
by the vicious uninterrupted rotation of another orgasm building. He couldn’t think of
anything but the mammoth of a cock in him, of how it reached so deep into him it prodded at
his lower guts, or how he was now so hypersensitive on the inside due to the weird things on
Harry’s prick.

It was not even five minutes later when his cock squirted another round of cum, his hips
gripped by unforgiving hands now, hard enough they ached but Harry was unrelenting and
Riddick felt insatiable.
His body was screaming to be bred, a gut feeling that permeated any rational thought and the
velocious snapping of Harry’s hips sending him down into a permanent state of muddled
mumblings. He couldn’t see his face but he was sure it looked similar to the call girls in
Proloxian 7, his mouth agape and saliva dribbling from his tongue and bottom lip.

His body felt heated, as if there was an inferno in his guts, it was uncomfortable and he
begged for Harry to fix it, to breed him, to help him, that he needed him, and Harry simply
fucked into his harder. It was brutally delicious and Riddick found himself mewling for more,
growling for the Alpha to fill him up and groaning with a bodily spasm when another orgasm
was ripped from him.

Harry felt as though he was going mad, breaths ragged and short and his cock throbbing with
every downward plunge. He could not have fathomed this was how mating would feel, the
desire to possess and dominate while protect and care for the man under him mumbling
Harry’s name, crying out to him.

Riddick’s insides were drenched, fragile walls clinging to him with desperation and he once
again pressed his body to Riddick’s, his chest to the Omega Furyan’s back to allow his cock
to slide deeper and he was rewarded with a wail of ecstasy.

He remained like that, buried balls deep in the man who would be his mate until nature
decreed the end, his cock grinding into Riddick’s depths before he came with a rumbling
shout, his cum gushing out into Riddick who clenched down hard around him, walls milking
him.

Harry remained rooted in him, balls still pumping load after load into the warm body, and
Riddick for the first time since they began went slack, cock spent and drying cum under him.
Harry pulled out when his cock softened and the spikes returned dormant along his shaft,
Riddick’s hole a gaping mess with a swollen rim and the excess cum that filled him dribbling
out.

The fugitive groaned and Harry shushed him, hand running over the shaved head and over
the strong jaw then down the large chest to settle over a perked nipple.

In months' time Harry would watch Riddick’s chest fill with milk just as his belly would with
the newest generation of Furyan pups, but that would not be here on a deserted planet.
Covering the unconscious man with an extra fur blanket he called the Jackel over, hand
scratching the behind the large ear before he checked the tracking device he saw the blinking
triangle on the screen.

The ship was only a few hours out and it would take about four months to reach their new
home in a solar system far away from this one. During his time living on the planet with only
ghosts as company and then wandering the planets and cities, lost and angry, he found a new
purpose.

Furyans were still in existence, scattered and too afraid to regroup, but with Shirah and others
he managed to gather close to 100 of his kind, all secreted away on a planet that was
inhabited by peaceful creatures who they resided with.
 “Stay with him” he murmured to the large canine who whined but snuggled up beside
Riddick.

Harry took up the dark stem of his weapon, a blade he had fashioned on Provoleon 34, and
heaved it over his shoulder, the black semi-circular blade of the scythe gleaming in the
moonlight. Harry whistled, a low sound that carried across the grasslands and he waited until
almost two dozen Jackels appeared, all sons and daughters of the one Riddick raised.

Two ships with mercenaries had landed on the planet a few hours ago in search of Riddick
and Harry had no intention of letting any of them leave.

Chapter End Notes

Hope you guys are safe and doing well!

 Harry/Thorin Oakenshield pt2
Chapter Summary

Harry and Thorin's journey continues ( a continuation of chapter 37)

Chapter Notes
See the end of the chapter for notes

Bilbo Baggins was a simple hobbit from a simple village of simple people. He enjoyed
several hot meals a day and steaming pots of tea during cold nights. He loved his books and
gardening and would take a great big slice of carrot cake over a meat pie any day.

He was not well acquainted with romantic relationships but he could recognize when others
were in them. He was not dense to such things, he just had little interest in the frivolities of
romance. Why would he be involved with someone physically when he could live and
experience it through his books?

But he could tell with surety when someone was involved, when there was physical attraction
or romance in the mix whether it was hidden or not, his father always did say he had keen
eyes and intuition.

He did not need his intuition for the situation at hand however.

Bilbo had woken up with the greatest urge to pee and after stumbling through the darkness,
past Dwalin who stood on guard with Thorin, he found a bush a good distance away from the
sleeping group and the two sentries of the night.

He had heard a small sound and had peaked around the tree that stood behind the bush only
to duck down in embarrassment. The small sound he had heard came again and this time
Bilbo did not look up, he didn’t need to, not when he had seen just who was making the quiet
noise.

Thorin gazed up at Harry with heavy lids as his throat worked around the girth that was
stretching his esophagus open, Harry’s balls resting just by his bottom lip as the human man
murmured words of encouragement to him.

Words that he did not need but still made his heart beat a bit faster and his mind become a bit
hazy as Harry stroked his hair back away from his face, calloused hands touching his cheeks
with such gentleness even as his cock violated his throat.

He gagged and Harry moaned, the still hips moving now, a slow and easy back and forth
movement that picked up as the minutes ticked by, Thorin’s hands gripping the powerful
thighs of the apparent human as his mouth was plowed.
Bilbo could see Thorin’s eyes flutter close, the blue disappearing and his naked hips jerking
as he humped the air, engorged cock twitching as if possessed, and to the hobbit’s surprise the
dwarf came, cum spurting out to wet the grass below.

Harry chuckled softly, hands gentle as he caressed Thorin’s face, cock slipping from the
dwarf’s lips and Bilbo squeaked at the sight of the thick thing exiting Thorin’s mouth, the
cock slippery with saliva to the point it dribbled from the length.

Harry leaned down to kiss the shorter male and Bilbo observed them, the biting kiss that
transformed into a mellow and deep lingering touch, hints of tongue peaking out in the poorly
lit forest.

He had been traveling with them for weeks now and this was the first time he had caught a
whiff of them being together. Was it an open secret that Bilbo had not noticed or was it such a
major secret with only Dwalin who was standing guard alone knew of?

Bilbo could not tear his eyes away as Harry lowered them both to the ground and the
obstinate dwarf willingly spread his legs, face flushed and his mildly annoyed expression
opened up to one of pleasure when the spit-covered cock pushed against a part that was not
privy to Bilbo’s sight.

Thorin clawed at the ground and Harry groaned as he snapped his hips forward, their bodies
moving in tandem and the cries of the dwarf stifled then swallowed by a greedy mouth.

Bilbo used their distraction as a chance to scurry away, his feet stumbling as he ran in the
direction of Dwalin who just gave him an unimpressed one over that turned to sharp
amusement when he viewed Bilbo’s red face.

“Ye got an eye full didn’t ya.” Dwalin drawled and took a long drag of his pipe.

Bilbo stared at the infuriating dwarf, a sound like a ready teapot leaving him before he
stomped away from the tattooed warrior.

There was not much Thorin could say he did that could be considered as ‘foolish’.

During his youth, any shenanigans he committed were usually because of Dis but as he grew
the less they became until he simply could not afford to act the part of a fool and have fun,
not when the survival of his people depended upon it.

He swiftly found that by being associated with wizards such as Gandalf he might have bitten
off more than he could possibly chew.

Today alone he had nearly fought a giant bear, was introduced to several animals that were all
bigger than him, and was treated to more nuts, honey cakes, and odd tea than he knew what
to do with.

However, riding his lover in a flower field in the middle of the night seemed to be the most
ridiculous and silly thing ever and easily topped his very short list.
Thorin groaned, his head falling back to expose his neck and the thick tendons exposed,
nipples stiff from the cold night despite his body being hotter than ever.

With his legs braced against the poor unfortunate flowers below he bounced on Harry’s cock,
the huge meat stick drilling and parting his overly sensitive insides effortlessly, so easily that
Thorin was afraid he would be forever ruined.

He was getting addicted to this, to the sex, to the human man.

His resolution at the beginning of their first hasty dabble into sex was to never get attached.
He did not need another responsibility to shoulder much less a heartbreak, yet, here he was
under a moonlit sky calling out Harry’s name.

Looking down at the silent man Thorin was startled to see such adoration in those the
emerald gems Harry possessed, his black curls strewed behind him like a creeping halo and
the pink, purple, yellow, blue, and white flowers did not help the image any.

Harry’s hands were a firm presence on his hips, not forcing him to move just simply holding
him, caressing the tan skin there with such gentleness it made Thorin’s heart ache as much as
his cock did.

“I-I’m goin’ to cum…” he mumbled and Harry hummed, an encouraging tilting of his hips to
slam his cock directly against the dwarf’s sweet spot, the impactful pressure making Thorin
dizzy.

“Do… do that again.” the request came out more like a demand but Harry just smiled and
repeated the action, his hips rising and falling briefly as his hands lifted and dropped Thorin
as if he weighed nothing and not a fully grown dwarf.

He marveled at Harry’s strength at times, not dull enough to believe all humans carried such
vigor but also not prying into something he was not told willingly.

Pressing his hands to Harry’s chest where he could feel the man’s heart thundering away
under the skin Thorin keened, velvet walls shuddering and squeezing down around the thick
sex in him as he came, moaning away at the sensation of Harry following suit directly after.

Through blurry vision Thorin watched Harry lick his lips free of the spunk that had landed on
his face, fingers swiping the white cream to suck it into an obscene mouth, the image making
Thorin blush.

He remained seated on the human’s lap as if it were his throne, belly bloated full of cum and
lust sated.

Feeling something slide behind his ear he blinked down at Harry twirled a flower by its stem,
touching the space above his ear he huffed at finding a yellow flower stuck there.

“Really?” he murmured and Harry shrugged.

“A pretty flower for a beautiful dwarf.”

 The smack he gave a chuckling Harry was not nearly as hard as he wanted it to be, but when
Harry smiled up at him with all that boyish charm he possessed and offered him a pretty blue
flower he accepted it without hesitation.

Chapter End Notes

These last couple of months did not go the way I expected but, wah-la I'm back and,
trying to get my groove back.

I hope you're all safe and doing well!

 Harry/Jack Sparrow
Chapter Summary

Harry/Jack Sparrow (Pirates of the Caribbean)

Chapter Notes
See the end of the chapter for notes

Well this was humiliating.

Jack blinked open bleary eyes and tried his best to focus his vision, not at all liking how the
dimly lit room swam back and forth before it settled somewhat precariously in place.

He vaguely remembered mouthing off in a bar, a brawl being started and some poor
unfortunate bloke being thrown into a wall.

This was all before someone had smashed a bottle over his head and then he passed out.

Getting drunk and starting a quarrel, participating in a brawl, and being knocked out were all
common occurrences in his life, however, this… this was not.

Jack stared at the silk bindings, because the material was too soft to be anything other than,
that held his legs apart and even he was fascinated by his own flexibility.

Who knew his legs could reach so far back almost with his feet by his head.

Heh, he was getting more fabulous the more he aged it seemed.

Tugging at the same bindings around his wrists he grunted when his legs were tugged further
and the more his vision adjusted to the nearly dark room he could see that it was all
connected.

His asshole clenched when a cold breeze filtered through from the partially open window and
it was then that Jack realized just how alarmingly naked he was.

How hard was that bottle?

Or better question, just how much did he drink?

Normally when he was tied up against his will it was typically a plot for revenge or some
nonsensical drabble but never had he been stripped of all his clothing.

Tugging at his hands again he stopped seconds later when he found the silk, as soft as it was,
to be too well made to break so easily.
Silk like that was only owned by aristocrats, the high society posh bastards that Jack oh so
loved to steal from whenever he got the chance.

Running through the blurry memories of last night he found or remembered no faces that
could have been some wig-wearing baboon, but now that he truly looked around the room he
found more indications of being in the possession of someone rather wealthy.

Burping loudly Jack smacked his lips together. He was thirsty, and also hungry, and it must
have been morning because he had a raging erection.

Staring at his engorged cock in consideration he tilted his head back to stare at his hands once
again. Maybe if he… pulling on the silk his legs were brought closer to his head and -

“Are you really about to do what I believe you are attempting to?”

Jack froze in shock at the sudden presence and he craned his head up beyond the rigid curve
of his own cock to stare at the silhouette of a man.

“W-whatever it is you’re thinking then it's just the opposite!” he rebuked, tan skin burning
darker along the cheeks.

There was a chuckle and then the clicking of a door being locked and Jack tensed as the man
came closer, heavy boots thumping against the wooden floors until he was staring up at an
annoyingly handsome face.

Some hot between the legs women would even call him rugged . Bleh.

“So you were not just about to try and suck yourself off?” the stranger asked and Jack
snorted.

“Now why on Earth would I do that when you’ve got two perfectly capable hands there hm?
Now come on darlin’ untie me, it’s been rather fun being strung up like a whore in waiting
but I think we’ve had a jolly good enough time yea?”

The man simply blinked, his hand coming up to brush back the inky black hair from his face
and Jack was momentarily struck in awe at the sight of the emerald green eyes. If they were
treasures he would have fetched a pretty penny for them.

“You’ve got one thing correct.” the man said and Jack raised a brow, still managing to look
unbothered by the situation despite the position he was in.

“Uh-huh, and what would that be mate?”

“I have two perfectly capable hands.” the man drawled and Jack yelped when one of the large
appendages struck him on the ass cheek, the right tanned mound stinging from the slap.

“Hey! No hands-on the merchandise unless you plan to pay for it!”

He stared at the man who rounded the bed, brown eyes following his every step, and if only
the God-forsaken material would pop he could make a quick escape.
“You don’t remember me do you Jack… then again, you were blinding drunk despite your
coherence.” he mumbled.

“Am I supposed to remember you? Look lad, despite how I look, I’m just not that great with
faces.”

Lies, he could remember a face much better than he could a name but for whatever reason the
man’s who was searching through a cupboard at the side of the bed completed eluded him.

“Aha.”

Jack tried to see what was over the side of the mattress but grunted when there was no give to
the ropes of silk.

“Aha what? Aha you’ll let me go now?”

There was an amused tilt to the stranger’s lips and the pirate captain found a bottle of 150-
year-old bottle of rum dangling a few inches from his face. Jack gulped, he could already
taste how good it would be.

“Is that for me?” he asked, hesitant given the predicament, but he learned the best way to get
out of situations that could prove deadly or dangerous was to charm the other party.

There was a pause, sharp green eyes pinning Jack to the bed and for a second Jack wondered
if he had asked a wrong question before he hummed.

“Yes.”

The mattress dipped with the added weight of another person on it, the man resting just
below Jack’s raised ass, and the pirate twitched when a pillow was pushed under his hips.

“We made a bet last night you see. Should I win the ridiculous amount of rounds you
proposed I would be able to ask one thing of you. If you won, I would do the same in return.
Seven bottles, three meals and a rowdy lap dance from a prostitute later you start a brawl in
the tavern, tried to run away but was unfortunately hit in the head.”

The soft explanation and near indifferent stare made Jack feel as though he was once again
under the stern stare of his father, Teague for all he was a feared captain was an even more so
feared father. Soft in his words but quick to slap the back of heads.

Swallowing he chuckled nervously. “It wasn’t you who hit me in the back of the head was
it?”

While it would not be the first time he had been struck by a bottle by someone he pissed off,
or sadly enough by an irate lover, none of the aforementioned had him tied up naked in an
undisclosed room.

The man rolled his eyes and Jack twitched again when the cork of the rum was pulled off
with a pop .
“I’m not so crass Jack. I am, however, a man of my word and you , yourself swore on the
Pirate Code that you would uphold your end of the bargain.”

Jack flinched at the mention of the code, eyes darting around as if Teague would suddenly
appear with the heavy book.

“D-Did I now…” the laugh was undoubtedly nervous and Jack tugged at the restraints once
more. “The Code…”

The bottle was tilted back and the man took a quick gulp. Jack was impressed at the
impassiveness given how aged the rum was.

“Are you going to release me now so we can share that bottle or you gonna feed it to me?” he
asked, charm hitched up a level, the same charm that got him into bed with various women,
out of trouble with the said women, and though it had been a few long years, a sailor or two.

He was stared at for a long moment and Jack knew the man was observing him on a deeper
level than just a passing stare, not that he could judge when he had already assessed that the
stranger was either a mercenary or a sailor. He sure as hell was not a pirate given his
mannerisms and the accommodations.

For one there was no shouting outside the window, no hagglers, children screaming or
whores calling for customers, which meant they were somewhere quiet, probably in a gated
neighborhood, and for him to be able to bring in someone like Jack -

Jack’s eyes widened when a hand gripped his jaw, just before warm and soft lips were
pressed against his, a tongue and then the warm rush of aged whiskey gushing into his mouth
forcing him to swallow.

Gasping after the kiss broke he coughed, one at the impromptu gulp, and two at how strong
the liquor was.

Jack had no time to complain however when he the wet feeling of something was pressing
against his ass, his neck craning to see a thick, long finger rubbing over his exposed crease,
the restraints straining when Jack yanked on them in surprise as it was pushed inside.

It burned a bit but the oil helped. That was the first time in over a decade he had had
something shoved inside his ass, the finger crooking and lazily thrusting within him. Gasping
at the foreign feeling Jack watched as precum dribbled from his tip, the translucent liquid
beading before dotting his abdomen.

His escapades with men had always been rough and quick, amazing during the moment but
horribly painful when the ecstasy wore away. He had never been fingered before, had never
had the option to be touched with an oiled finger so it did not hurt, this… this was -

“Hgnn!” Jack squeezed his eyes shut when another finger joined the first, his hole tight
without it being said and the digits stretching him out from the inside pushed him further
apart, plunging down and down until he shuddered.
“You’ve got your fingers in me and haven’t even bought me dinner.” Jack panted, precum
falling to his belly with every languid prod of the fingers.

“I brought you three meals.” the man corrected and Jack bit his lip to stifle the shriek when
the fingers grazed something unholy sensitive within him.

“Th...Then you should have taken me out on a date!” Jack squirmed against the mattress, the
actions futile and this time he really did cry out as the fingers swiveled around the soft
insides made slippery by the oil, whatever it was the kept persisting in touch sent fire down
up his spine.

Jack’s toes curled, gasps like a drowning man filling the room, and through fuzzy vision
blinded by tears and the pesky instinct for his eyes to roll up when in the heights of pleasure,
Jack saw rather than felt the man touch his toes.

He could feel an orgasm building, like a wave that threatened to consume him, and Jack was
helpless to fight against it, to swim in the other direction the second a calloused hands
wrapped around his cock and stroked .

Rich emerald watched in mild interest as the pirate trembled, his bound legs shaking and his
tied hands clenching before ropes of white shot from him, the projection so powerful most of
it landed on his face and into his open mouth.

Withdrawing his wet fingers from the twitching hole he let a slow smirk slither onto his face
at the debauched expression the pirate captain wore. It suited him to look delirious with
pleasure, but… he picked up the bottle of rum again and took another swing, thumb rubbing
over the loosened crease.

“Do you still not remember me?” he asked, languid in his words as much as he was with his
actions.

Jack’s brain frizzled and it took him several long seconds to process the words and somehow
get his heavy tongue to work.

“As… as much as that was perhaps the best orgasm I have ever had, no darlin’ I can’t say I
do.” he at least had the good sense to look guilty when a feature of frustration filtered onto
the man’s face.

“Hm.” the thumb dipped past the rim of Jack’s pucker making the pirate moan “Maybe if you
are drunk again, you will.”

“Huh? H-Hey, hey, hey! Wait! Don’t -”

The mouth of the bottle was tilted against Jack’s hole and without a howdy, the man pushed
the inches-long nozzle into Jack’s still twitching hole, the alcohol bubbling in the bottle at the
sudden directional change before it began to empty inside of Jack.

The liquor bit by bit drained from the near gallon-sized glass, the nozzle being rejected from
the pirate asshole before it was shoved back down to the start of the wider part and Jack
groaned.

Already a lovely darker flush was working its way up to his neck and cheeks, the effects of
the alcohol quicker to reach his bloodstream than if he had orally ingested it.

“My name is Harry, do you remember me now?” Harry questioned, hand gripping the bottle
to push and pull the long nozzle back and forth solely to watch Jack’s asshole cling to it, his
belly bloated and distended from its previously flat state.

Jack gave a low wailed as his hole was abused by the smooth glass of the bottle, the nozzles
dragging against the sensitive insides.

“No! No I don’t! I swear I -” Jack burped loud enough to startle himself and Harry retracted
the bottle from within him, his asshole releasing it with a pop .

Jack could feel the liquor beginning to blur his consciousness, the wonderful haze of
drunkenness creeping further and further and for once Jack wanted to fight it. Craning his
head up again to stare at the man around his distended belly Jack’s eyes widened at the sight
of something long and clearly alive moving from where it was attached to the man.

If he didn’t know any better he would say it looked like a tentacle and just like that the
memories of last night came flooding back to him and he yelled in shock as another tentacle
emerged from the man until there was a total of twelve.

Harry smiled, a genuine curve of his lips as one of his tentacles crept forward to touch Jack’s
ankle before it slithered up his legs, the appendage slippery enough it dripped with the
translucent secretion.

“You made a deal with me last night that should I win our little game you would do one thing
for me, you said this by swearing to the Pirate Code.”

The blunt tip of the tentacle rubbed itself over Jack’s hole and the pirate cursed as it prodded
his ass, the oily liquid smearing over his pucker and for some reason it itched slightly.

“I won our game and I told you that I would like you to be the mother of my children, to
which you agreed.”

Jack clenched his teeth as the tentacle breached him and like a serpent it slithered without
hesitation inside him, the expanse of it filling him up in an instant without warning. His yowl
tapering off into a moan as the thing moved back and forth, the pink thing fucking Jack on
the command of the man who was calmly retelling the events of last night.

Jack could barely focus on what was being said, not when the feeling reached his guts and
back. The sensation of another pressing to his already full hole made him tense, the breath
being knocked from him when it joined the first in drilling his insides.

The rum in his belly was being toyed with, the tentacles sloshing the liquid around as they
fucked him and Jack bit his lip when his cock twitched and the pirate captain cried out when
he came again.
“You conceded to be the mother of my children Captain Jack Sparrow and I intend on seeing
you honor the end of our contract.”

Jack’s eyes rolled back when a third tentacle slithered inside his stuffed full hole, the slippery
things were making his insides feel hot as if a fire was being lit on the inside that had nothing
to do with the belly full of rum.

The silk restraints were broken and Jack’s sore limbs fell to the bed in a tumbled heap but his
legs were quickly spread again with the help of two more pink attachments as several
wrapped around his arms and torso to lift him off the bed.

A fourth joined the trio and Jack drooled, his mouth open and tongue hanging out as the itch
to his asshole increased to a sensation similar to hunger that crept inside him and spread to
even his nipples, the brown nubs aching as they stood perked on his chest.

“My name is Harry but you humans like to call me by a myriad of other names, but
personally I prefer the simplicity that is Harry.”

Two tentacles came forth but unlike the others, the blunt end split open to reveal a bumpy
interior with a thin diminutive feeler and Jack’s back arched where he was being held midair
as they latched onto his nipples. The tiny feelers moving against the center of his nipples
before they crept inside and elongated in length.

Another came forth similar to the two attached to his chest, twisting and wrapping around his
penis before it opened like a blooming rose, the insides of the appendage ribbed and so wet it
dripped like mucus. Jack watched as his cock was swallowed into a tight nodule-filled
cavern, a thin tentacle teasing his urethra before it plunged inside to slither all the way down
into his balls and there it expanded slightly from the almost microscopic size to about an
inch.

“You see, every two hundred years or so I resurface from my kingdom to find myself a mate.
Your earthly genders hardly matter to me, the end result is always the same.” Harry continued
and from where Jack hung suspended with moans and cries filling the space in a neverending
symphony, he could see a dangerous huge curvature in the leather trousers the man wore.

“My children are my ears and eyes on the surface you see. The ones who dictate the flows of
your world, the ones to begin wars, the heroes, the villains. The puppetmasters so to speak.”

Jack shuddered as he came again, his cum being soaked up by the tentacle suckling on his
cock in gentle pulsating suctions.

“I hear you humans are suddenly so very interested in immortality and go so far as to seek
out the Fountain of Youth.” Harry chuckled and wiggled his index finger and another tentacle
joined the others inside of Jack’s asshole, the things squirming and thrusting, widening his
hole beyond its limits as they wriggled around in his guts.

“I simply need an incubator and humans have the perfect temperature. Ironic really, you lot
are so weak and easily broken yet you make such wonderful hosts.” Harry smiled and
shrugged before turning somber, his hand reaching up to cup Jack’s face.
“I can make you immortal if you wish. No human ailments will be able to take the wind from
your sails, you will be unstoppable. Would you like that Jackie?” Harry asked and Jack stared
into the bright green eyes that reminded him so much of emeralds.

Immortality was always a thing of myths and legends until a whisper of it spread across the
entire Caribbean and just, like all the rest, tried his hardest to find prevention against death.

His stomach felt weird. It was hot and tingly and only then did he realize the tentacles were
spewing something hot within his guts, the already distended abdomen pushing out further
then like spaghetti being slurped the pink feelers vacated his hole.

It was a too-quick exit and Jack cried out as his balls contracted and he released again in the
thing encasing his cock, his breaths labored but the promise of immortality weighed heavily
on his mind now despite the exhaustion and hypersensitive nerve-endings.

“W...What will… I have… to do?”

A slow shark-like grin appeared on Harry’s face and the tentacles brought Jack closer to the
man until their faces were just a breath away.

“Be mines Captain Jack Sparrow. Be mines and the world is yours. You will be free to roam
the surface for 10 years without limitations but then you must spend a year in my bed, at my
whim. Does that not sound easy enough my dear birdie?”

There had to be a catch to the deal that benefited Jack more than it did the monster before
him but… it was too good to pass up. From behind Harry, another tentacle emerged, this one
fatter than all the others and an odd green colour, and Jack was helpless as it pushed inside
his gaping hole and whatever little coherence he regained seeped away like water through his
fingers.

“I don’t require an answer just yet birdie. Not when you have yet to experience how magical
it is to house and then birth my children.”

Jack gasped, his toes curling when the thing in his ass seemingly expanded in size and Harry
smiled sweetly at him as the sphere-like bulge moved along Jack’s canal until it was
deposited inside his liquid-filled belly with a gentle plop .

“E-Eggs?” Jack hazily questioned, before he seized up again at the feeling of the egg
traveling from his sphincter and all the way to his stomach, and with each addition to his
belly Jack came, the orgasms no less powerful and despite having cum repeatedly his balls
had yet to be emptied.

Harry licked the sweat damp cheek and kissed the pirate, his inhuman tongue wrapping
around the human muscle, Jack swallowing the saliva being deposited into his mouth until
his head swam.

He barely felt the thing in his ass retreat, only the sudden emptiness that followed and the
heavyweight of half a dozen grapefruit-sized eggs nestled in his stomach.
 Harry lowered him down onto the bed and Jack’s heavy lids fought against the sweeping
onslaught of exhaustion, Harry leaning over him to brush the brown coils of hair from his
face, hand gentle as he pat the swollen stomach. He needed to fertilize the eggs but the pirate
looked so lovely sleeping.

“Hmm… what to do, what to do.” he murmured. Flicking open a pocket watch he stared at
the time.

He had two more days before he had to return to his kingdom. “That could work.” he
concluded.

Rolling his shoulders he wrapped the pirate in the soft sheet of the bed, Jack sleeping soundly
and unaware of being teleported back to the captain chambers on his ship. Setting him down
onto the bed Harry smiled at his handiwork, lips lingering over Jack’s before he pressed a
gentle kiss to them.

“See you soon birdie, I look forward to your answer.” he whispered into Jack’s ear and when
the waves rocked the boat and Jack turned on his side, he was gone.

Chapter End Notes

Someone had requested Jack Sparrow and wah-la inspiration hit.

This new tag limit surprised me, I low-key got scared my work was in trouble. I deleted
40+ tags so hopefully it doesn't impact the finding of the work too much, I suppose I'll
keep posting on Top Harry Saga until I reach the 75 tag quota. When that time comes I
may or may not continue THS but I suppose I still have a handful of tags left before I
get there, it all depends on how I play this out haha.

Ahh, it's a bummer for continuous fics like this one that has multiple pairings centered
around a single character but I suppose it benefits the majority.

As always thank you to everyone who left kudos and left a comment. I may not reply to
every single comment but I do read and appreciate them. Stay safe everyone!
 Harry/Severus Snape
Chapter Summary

Harry/Severus Snape (post Deathly Hallows)

Chapter Notes
See the end of the chapter for notes

“Po-Potter wait we ca-ahhgn!” Severus’s hands scrambled for purchase around the tan neck
of his most troublesome student, Harry chuckling as if he found the entire ordeal to be quite
funny.

The veined cock withdrew from inside of Severus only to plunge back in, the oil smeared
over the stiff meat rod making the invasion slick and slippery in the otherwise tight hole.

Severus wanted to curse the boy, to hit and blast him across the room for doing such a thing
to him, humiliation burning his cheeks and chest that laid bare but all he could do was moan
into the boy’s neck as he was fucked.

“Ahh! Ahh! Ngnn!!”

His voice filled the potions classroom, the empty desks having been filled with students just
minutes prior before he had been tossed onto his desk and disrobed, the black material in a
pool of black on the ground and then without question, he was penetrated.

The cocky confidence of the boy knew no bounds and Severus only served in inflating his
ego whenever he failed to refuse the evergreen gaze and heated mouth.

“I’m - I’m going to -”

Harry squeezed Severus’s prick in a grip so tight the potions master yelped, his orgasm
residing at the flare of pain.

“Wha-what in bloody hell are you doing you bra-ahht!”

Severus’s eyes rolled back at the well-aimed thrust to his prostate, white dots filling his
vision as Harry rolled his hips to hit the spot again and again.

Severus was positively howling at the explosive pleasure building within him but unable to
release or find escape due to the hand gripping his balls and cock.

“Do you want to cum Professor?” Harry asked innocently and with a hard thrust Severus
screamed, his lower belly bulging with the imprint of Harry’s cock nestled there just under
the skin before it disappeared.

“Should I let you cum Professor? Let this slutty little prick release what little impotent cum
you have stored in these pathetic balls hm?”

Severus shivered at the words, the flush burning his cheeks even more as he nodded.

Harry grinned down at him, smile as brilliant as the sun in all its glory “Are you going to be
my good little girl Sev? Will you cum for Daddy?” he asked, voice tipped deep into a timber
that bellied just how much he had grown since they first met gazes that fateful night in the
great hall.

It was indeed pathetic how he craved this, from a student no less, but what was once a
shameful rendezvous in the dead of night while he was tipsy from fire whiskey became once
every few weeks, then weekly, and finally daily, boarding on obsessive as Harry sought him
out whenever either had a free period or a few meager minutes to spare.

The war was over now and Voldemort was dead for good this time, and unfortunately so was
Dumbledore, but thankfully by neither his nor Draco’s hands.

Life had yet to go back to normal entirely but it was slowly getting back to a semblance of
normalcy, or at least as ordinary as it could.

The damage to Hogwarts was fixed but the lives lost could never be repaired, the broken
families and bonds severed forever.

The students who had fought in the war and were affected by it were given up to three years
to recuperate and Severus had been surprised to find Harry Potter striding through the halls as
a changed man. He was no longer a scrawny underfed-looking brat but now he towered over
Severus, a runner’s physique with enough muscle to put Severus’s barely defined abdomen to
shame.

It was almost as if he had become an entirely new person and Severus was hard-pressed to
find any similarities between him and James Potter beyond the messy hair and glasses.

“Beg me to let your clitty squirt Sev. Let me hear you beg little girl.” Harry murmured and
Severus blinked away the tears, mouth falling open almost immediately.

“Puhlease let me cuuum… Daa-Daddy puhlease I wanna cum! I wanna cum from my tiny
prick puh-puhlease!”

His insides were being stirred up, a constant neverending ruination of his hole, and Severus
was damned if he tried to gather his scattered brain cells.

It felt good, too good to think and with a satisfied grin Harry released the tight grip on his
cock, hands instead holding Severus by the hip and with one rough thrust in he buried
himself balls deep again and Severus saw blinding white.

Harry watched as the Professor’s squirted, his prick spraying cum as it jerked and twitched
during its release and by the time it fell soft Severus was covered in his own mess, the man
unconscious on the teacher’s desk.

Sighing he chuckled and brushed back his hair. Ah, this really was the best even if he did not
get to finish.

“Abby!” he called out as he redressed after cleaning his cock off and the little house-elf
appeared with a pop, her huge ears flopping.

“Y-Yes m-master Harry s-sir!”

Harry pushed a thumb into the gaping hole and hummed. Moving over to the shelf where the
beakers and glassware were kept he took up an ordinary small beaker. Transfiguring it into a
glass ball the size of a fat grape he filled it with magic until the stone swirled with his essence
and with gentle fingers he pushed the smooth glass inside the potions master.

Lodging it inside he embedded more magic to make it stay in place before smiling down at
the nervous-looking elf who often helped him transport Severus when the man was unable to
move.

“Please take Professor Snape back to his room for me, thank-you Abby.”

The elf nodded eagerly and with a snap of her fingers, they both were gone along with the
pile of clothes.

Fixing his tie Harry stretched. Dinner would be fun.

……

Dinner rolled around right on time and Harry took a seat among those he fought the war with,
the real physical scars just as deep as the mental ones but they would all survive one way or
the next.

He made sure he had a seat where he would have the full unhindered view of Professor Snape
and as if he were summoned the older wizards appeared at the teacher’s table and sat down.
He was dressed impeccably in his normal black attire and his hair combed and straight.

Dark eyes scanned the dinner table and Gryfindor until their gazes met and from where he sat
Harry could see the fury within the pitch-black eyes.

Shrugging his shoulders a little Harry raised his goblet full of spiked pumpkin juice before
headmistress McGonagall started the feast.

Harry ate as normal though he could still feel the gaze of suspicion coming from the
Professors' table but as time went on it lessened, and he waited until that precise moment
where Severus’s guard dropped.

Holding his right hand under the table away from view he snapped his fingers, magic flaring
between the digits.
Up at the professors' table Severus jumped, his chair scraping the ground and drawing the
attention of his colleagues, curious gazes on him.

Waving them off he clutched his own goblet filled with wine as the damnable thing in him
began to vibrate gently against his prostate.

When he woke up earlier he found himself naked in bed and a hard pressure in his asshole.
Attempts to remove it were futile and he left what felt like a small ball in him, no doubt
Harry’s doing and now he was proven correct.

He tried to focus on the meal and the conversation at hand, toes curling and sweat beginning
to prickle at his nape as the bead increased in its vibrations, his already sensitive prostate
standing no chance facing the direct attack and Severus was powerless against it.

Covering his mouth when the vibrations increased yet again he hunched his shoulders, teeth
biting into his bottle lip to stifle the moans that threatened to spill forth.

“Severus, are you okay? Are you feeling ill?” Flitwick questioned and Severus did not have
the heart to look the genuinely kind man in the eye so he groaned instead.

His cock was hard in the dark trousers, the tip leaking like a loose faucet and his hole
twitched and clenched, his crevice greedy for more.

“Oh dear, you should go and get some rest. Should I have Madam Pomfrey sent to you?”
Flitwick asked and Severus shook his head, his thighs pressing together and then spread apart
under the table.

He was about to cum.

Standing from the table in a hurry he could not bother to excuse himself and tried his best to
make a hasty retreat without falling over his feet, he barely made it to the hallway beyond the
great hall before his legs gave out, hips jerking forward then back as he came, a sodden spot
spreading across the crotch area of his slacks.

Harry approached the kneeling man and stared down at the flushed red face, pink lips parted
and eyes unfocused.

Like this Severus was beautiful, utterly enchanting and Harry hauled him up to his feet,
hands quickly yanking down the wet trousers and underwear to expose the pale and
deliciously plump ass.

Another snap of his fingers and the magical orb in Severus’s asshole reverberated faster than
ever, the ball pulsating against Severus’s hypersensitive pleasure spot. He moaned, a wanton
spillage of sounds that echoed in the alcove Harry found and now stripped him in.

Severus could do nothing as his cheeks were spread and the boy stared at the quivering
pucker. Humiliation once again blossoming in his chest as Harry spat on the still loosened
crease, the glob of spit landing with accuracy.
He had no time to question his state of undress, not with his second orgasm riding the wave
of the first and as he came, cum spouting from his prick and landing on the cold dark bricks
Harry shoved his cock inside, barrelling into Severus’s hole.

The wail which erupted from the Professor spurred Harry to cover his mouth and Severus
held onto the wall as best as he could as the boy rutted inside of him, lower belly bulging
with every thrust forward and soon his mouth too was full with fingers for him to suck on.

He was dying from pleasure.

Gagging around the digits Severus spread his legs wider as Harry ruined his insides, fat cock
pummelling his soft crevice like a madman, and Severus could only take it, take it and moan
like a whore in heat.

The magical bead was still vibrating and with every shove of the cock in him Severus cried,
tears washing over his red cheeks and tongue hanging loose from his mouth.

“You’re gonna take my cum like a good girl aren’t you Sev? You’re gonna love it when I
pump every last drop into you yea? Answer me slut.” Harry rumbled and Severus’s eyes
fluttered close, his body rocking back and forth with each rough smack of Harry’s hips.

“Yes! Yes! Cum in my please! Cum in me! Fill up my slutty hole with your sperm!”

Harry pulled Severus closer, one hand firmly around his neck and the other twisting then
pulling a pink nipple as he came, his cock throbbing within the pulsating hole of the potions
Professor as thick globs of cum spurted inside the trembling canal.

Pulling out slowly, his cock came out with a pop and he stared at the gaping hole, a sight
worthy of a portrait. Severus slumped to the floor, expression blank and lewd as shivers
continued to wreck his body as one a dribble of cum leaked from his prick.

Snapping his fingers the magic bead deactivated and with a simple summoning spell the glass
appeared in his hand and he pocketed it for later usage.

Tilting his head Harry changed his mind and transfigured the bead into an anal plug with a
green gem at the end that swirled with a little of Harry’s magic. Rolling Severus onto his side
Harry slid the glass anal plug into the sopping mess that had become the potions master’s
asshole, the plug slotting into place and trapping the fresh cum inside.

He was tempted to the leave the man there, naked and debauched but instead he called the
little house elf from before.

Crouching down Harry pet the dark tresses of the man who had saved him, the one who had
given him the courage to become his true self.

Killing Dumbledore had been the most liberating thing he had done, and as if the shackles
around his neck were broken with the breaking of Dumbledore’s bones as he landed on the
ground from the astronomy tower, Harry could finally exhale in peace.
 He had to thank Severus and Draco for their unwitting contribution in the entire scheme, and
with two less troublesome figures alive there was no one who could stand in his way.

“Abby, take Professor Snape back to his room. Thank you.” he murmured and he watched as
the elf disappeared from view. The road to hell was paved with good intentions after all, and
Harry simply repaid Dumbledore for every unfortunate instance in his life with death.

Chapter End Notes

Someone requested the pairing, wah-la. I know I don't normally update so quickly but
here you lovelies go.

Hope everyone is doing well, stay safe guys!

 Harry/David Kay
Chapter Summary

Deacon's marriage was on the rocks and he knew of only one way to fix it. (Harry/David
"Deacon" Kay - A cross over between Station 19 season 3 episode 7 and S.W.A.T)

Chapter Notes
See the end of the chapter for notes

“So let me get this straight.” Harry leaned against the frame of the door, arms crossed over
his chest and green eyes staring unimpressed with the man before him, voice drawling as he
continued.

“You want me, your bitter ex to heal the brother of the woman you left me high and dry for in
order to save your marriage that is on the rocks because of how you work.”

Deacon nodded stiffly and if Harry had not known the man from head to toe, and more
intimately inside and out than his wife would ever know, then maybe he would have been
duped into thinking that the man was hardly unbothered. It was the complete opposite and
Harry relished in seeing the stray drop of sweat roll from the salt and pepper hairline and
down his cheek.

Harry chuckled, the sound harsh in comparison to the soft-looking sweater he was wearing,
green eyes narrowed behind the rectangular spectacles and Deacon found he could barely
hold the luminous gaze.

“You’re a piece of work you know that David Kay?”

“Harry… I know, I know that I’ve done wrong by you, and to ask you this would be too
much-”

“Damn right it is David.”

Deacon licked his lips and took a small step forward, hand curling into the soft and no doubt
expensive material of the thin sweater feeling Harry’s muscles contract from the touch, the
man’s breath hitching.

He knew he was playing dirty, they both knew he was playing dirty and despite not being in
contact with the other for the better part of a little over two decades he still remembered
every spot and crevice that made Harry melt.

“Harry… please. I’m coming to you as a friend -”

Another bark of a laugh escaped Harry “We’re not friends David.”

“Then I’m coming to you as someone you once cared for. Someone who you promised you
would always help and love and -”

Deacon winced when his wrist was grabbed, the grip tight enough that no doubt Annie would
question where he had gotten such a bruise, and he quickly found himself slammed up
against the wall on the inside of the house, Harry’s height even more impressive now with
age lining his features and his body still as warm as he remembered.

“You don’t get to do this! You don’t get to waltz back into my life after the pain you’ve
caused me because you couldn’t disappoint daddy .”

Deacon opened his mouth to protest but the words halted halfway off his tongue.

“You couldn’t bear to be the black sheep of the family, to stain your old man’s perfect image
of you huh?" the words were spat with so much resentment Deacon could only flinch.

"Choir boy David Kay, A-plus student David Kay, football ace, teachers' pet, daddy’s boy, oh
so respectful, oh he’s going to be somebody great one day David Kay!”

The hand took its turn to curl into the front of his shirt and his brain rattled in his skull when
his back collided with the wall from the force of the shove.

“Fuck you David! Fuck you! I hope your marriage crumbles and she leaves you with nothing,
just as you left me.”

“Harry please I-”

“You broke my heart. You understand this right? You left me alone, waiting and hoping that
you’d show up just as you promised. Two plane tickets for England, it was to be us against
the world… you were my world and you fucking abandoned me for normalcy and society's
approval.”

“I was never as confident as you were Harry.”

“I was only confident because I thought you’d always be at my side.”

“We were kids Harry, we didn’t know what we were doing much less thinking! How could I
choose -” Deacon stumbled over his words, adverting his gaze when Harry leaned closer, a
bitter chuckle on his tongue.

“How could you choose me hm? Is that what you were going to say?”

Deacon closed his eyes briefly and despite being six feet tall he felt small under the cold stare
from the other man, Harry's fingers brushing over his jawline.

“How could you choose the faggot when God himself gifted you with a woman like Annie ,
right?" Harry drawled, suddenly darkly amused.
"Sweet hometown princess who wanted to be a lawyer until you dumped a kid in her and she
gave up the big dream to be the modern-day housewife. Fairytale wedding, proud parents,
adoring siblings, and now the idealistic marriage where you are barely holding on by the
fringes.” Harry laughed at Deacon's expense.

He could feel the warm breath against his neck and the hand he held firm between their
bodies was barely enough to keep the other from pressing into him, the contact distracting
him from asking just how Harry knew this information.

He had been desperate to find a solution and it just so happened while helping in the IT room
sorting through mundane reports he had stumbled across Harry’s name for a parking ticket.

Annie had been a wreck for the last few days, having flown over to her brother and the
sizzling tension between them only grew.

Lucas Ripley was an exceptional fireman and he and Deacon got along famously, but he had
always been the rock to Annie’s back, and Deacon knew that if the man died his marriage
would go with him.

She was unhappy, finding staying at home to be harder than ever with three children and a
husband who risked his life dodging bullets, but leaving her children to someone else to raise
even for a few hours was not her ideal plan.

So Deacon worked harder to make more money, to buy her things that would have once made
her smile. He worked to pay off the mortgage, money to provide for his family, and then
some. But the more he tried the more the lines along her mouth and eyes increased.

“...ees.”

He snapped back to the present and only then did he realize Harry had stepped back and was
currently lounging on a single-seater couch, his expression pinched but posture relaxed.

“What did you say?”

Harry tilted his head to the side slightly, a smirk curving on his lips “I said, get on your
knees.”

Deacon could feel the anger rising, an ugly wave of red and he couldn’t help the snarl that
left him “You want me to beg? Is that it?”

“I don’t want you to do anything David. If it was up to me I would have preferred to never
see your face again for the rest of my life, but here you are knocking at my door after
midnight asking me to save the favored brother of your beloved wife. Let’s not be coy. I don’t
need you, you need me, and right now for the betterment of saving your marriage you have
the choice to get on your knees or walk out of the door.” Deacon watched as Harry shrugged,
nonchalant in the options given.

He wanted to humiliate him.

“You’re not the same Harry I remember.” he got a snort in return.

“Of course not. The Harry you remember was a kid who believed in love and loyalty. Who
had spent his savings on two plane tickets, a hotel room, and cheap weddings rings. You
believed in a single person who bared his heart to one David Kay only to get tossed aside for
approval. Get on your knees or get out.”

Deacon swallowed the lump in his throat and took five steps forward until he knelt in the V
of Harry’s legs. He was not foolish and already he could see where this was going. Kneeling
before Harry he looked up, chin tilted and expression defiant.

“Well?” the word was drawled with all the cockiness of someone who had the upper hand
and knew it well.

Deacon leaned forward was practiced ease, his body despite a fifteen-year standstill of not
doing something so vulgar seemed to remember everything as if he and Harry were still
foolish children in love.

Nuzzling the dark material of the jeans he unzipped the tag, the button coming undone and
the half-erect cock bulging from under the navy blue underwear.

Harry’s musk was stronger than he remembered, or perhaps it was the sudden reintroduction
to it once more that overwhelmed his senses. Tonguing the material of the boxer briefs
Deacon sucked on the hidden length that was hardening by the minute.

He should be repulsed, should hate himself for what he was doing to another man, for the
betrayal of cheating on Annie and everything that his religion stood for but -”

“Good boy…” Harry murmured.

He gave a soft moan at the praise, fingers hooking under the waist band to pull the underwear
and pants straight down where Harry kicked them off, the sweater being tossed to the side
until he was left completely naked.

Deacon took his time in soaking in the image of Harry who was so different from the twenty-
year-old he could remember still. This Harry was rigid in structure and in personality, and
any softness to have once be found disappeared long ago leaving a warm hand that felt too
cold.

Licking the underside of the thick shaft he moaned a little as the bitter taste of precum
touched his tongue, the cock thick enough to make his jaw ache after a few minutes of slowly
bobbing his head along the first few inches. Squeezing the base he let a heady dribble of
saliva run down to his hand, sucking and stroking in sync while his free hand fondled the
heavy balls underneath.

Deacon felt as though he was just tipping over the edge of insanity.

Almost twenty years of not seeing Harry and still his body was reacting to the man, shame
burning a hot path across his cheeks when his hole clenched. This was wrong, this was so
very very wrong to not only Annie but his children, what would they -
“Hgnn!” Deacon gagged as more of the cock was forced into his mouth and down his throat,
the first instinct to panic was stomped down and he breathed through his nose instead, throat
and eyes burning from the intrusion.

“I could hear you overthinking, decided to distract you.” Harry murmured, gaze intense and
hand remaining clenched in the salt and pepper hair. “You’re doing this for your wife and
kids aren’t you? Sucking your old flames cock just so I can save your brother-in-law and thus
your marriage right?”

Deacon gagged again, tears blinking free as he squeezed his eyes shut and tried his best to
relax, throat expanding around the girth and saliva dripping from his lip.

“The things we do for love.” the words were spoken slowly and Deacon swore he felt a brush
of a thumb across his cheek before a breeze from the open door made him shiver. He didn’t
have to look down to know he was naked, a trick Harry had done back then when they grew
impatient and desperate.

His toes curled and he dug blunt nails into the tan flesh of Harry’s thighs when the man
moaned loudly as he bottomed out in Deacon’s throat, all eleven inches sitting snuggly while
twitching occasionally.

Deacon had never felt so ashamed until now and perhaps the biggest betrayal was his own
body, his own dick hard against his belly and the emptiness of his insides felt more
overpowering than ever.

He had spent years being Harry’s, short and glorious years being opened up slowly and
fucked deeply, whispered adorations and screaming orgasms. Fifteen years of being a straight
catholic man who married for love and made three beautiful children. The contrasts of the
two versions of himself were clashing and Deacon found himself trembling under the light
touch to his forehead, Harry’s shaft being slowly withdrawn until it rested against his cheek
with a heavy coating of spit.

“You are doing this because you love your wife and want her to be happy aren’t you?” Harry
was nothing but a blur behind the tears obstructing his vision.

“You are willing to be fucked and ruined by me just so you can go back to your home and
hug your children, and kiss your wife again.”

A rush of warm wetness invaded him and he squirmed as lube was magically placed in him.
Harry leaning forward until his nose brushed against Deacon’s, green eyes dark behind the
glasses.

“I am going to make you regret ever coming back to me for a favor David Kay.” the promise
lingered in his voice and settled in the cold air between them, the hand in his hair tightening.

The door slammed shut and suddenly he was face down in a soft bed, the sheet soft against
his skin and the room warm.
The bluntness pressing against his hole made his heart tick up in pace and as much as he tried
to move away from the increasing pressure he couldn’t, the feeling of magic settling over his
body. “H-Harry, Harry wait I’m not read-AH!”

Harry’s groan of pleasure mixed with Deacon’s scream of pain as he bottomed out in him, the
lube helping the slide but doing very little for the tightness of a man who had not so much as
touched himself for fifteen years.

“It hurts Harry, t-take it out please dear god take it out, I can’t, I can’t pleas-mmhm!”

Deacon felt as though he had been split in two, each slow slide of the cock leaving and
entering him sending pain spiking along his spine.

“You’ll feel good soon, don’t you worry. I’ll make you scream just like you used to, how you
probably make your wife do on those secret nights you can spare.” he murmured, thumbs
spreading the firm cheeks of Deacon’s ass wider as to peer down at the slightly swollen rim
spread thin around his meat.

“How about I make you my woman from tonight and onwards David Kay.” his hips sped up,
the speed of his thrusts angled slightly up until Deacon was moaning loudly from the rush of
bliss that surged through his very core. Harry attacked his prostate with a gusto reminiscent
of a starving man, fingers pressing harder enough on the pale hips to leave bruises.

“Every week you will come here.” the magic holding Deacon up disappeared and he
collapsed down taking Harry with him until he was dragged upright again in a kneeling
position, the fat cock still pistoning away within him. His head lolling back against the strong
shoulder and Deacon found himself with muddled thoughts, mind as blurry as his vision and
body overheating as if he was with fever.

The hands rubbing over his belly didn’t help matters and the fingers pinching at his too
sensitive nipples only served to drive him closer to his peak.

“Every week David Kay you will come here as thanks for what I will do. I don’t care what
excuse you tell you wife.” he was pushed forward and back onto the mattress, Harry pulling
out long enough to turn him over, legs spread wide and all eleven inches of slicked cock
pushing back inside of him to draw another scream.

“C-Can’t! W...work a-and fa...fami...ly…!” the change in position just made the sink and
slide of Harry’s too big length go deeper until Deacon felt too full and uncomfortable.

Grinding inside of the wet heat Harry snapped his hips forward and remained there, tugging
the Sargeant up by his hair to stare at the flushed sweaty face of a man who was too ashamed
to admit he was loving what was being done to him.

“It was not a suggestion Deacon. Or should I pull out now and let Lucas Ripley wither
away?”

“N-No! Please don’t, you have to - Ugh!”

Harry started to move again, slow and deep, enough to make Deacon whimper into the
mattress to hide his sounds of ecstasy.

The low ringing of a phone he paid no mind to, but the woman's voice that filtered into the
room when the call was answered made his blood run cold, and he looked back wide eyed at
Harry who had the phone on speaker, a single finger pressed to his lips, hips shoving forward
again.

“Hello?”

“I apologize for calling at the late hour but is this Annie Kay I am speaking to?”

Deacon shook his head as Annie replied.

“Yes, and who is this? This really is not a good time at the moment, if you’re calling about
payments contact my husband he’s -”

“I assure you Mrs. Kay that your husband and I are in perfect contact with one another. In
fact, he is the reason I am calling.”

Harry began to stroke Deacon in time with his thrusts, cock prodding his prostate with perfect
accuracy that left the SWAT officer hurrying to muffle his desperate whimpering.

“...I don’t understand. Who are you?”

“My name is Harrison Potter-Black I am a friend of your husband and also an expert in
situations your brother has found himself in.”

There was an audible sniff from the other line and Annie let out a shaky sob “M-My brother -
they said he can’t be cured, that he’s far too gone to begin treatment and-and you’re telling
me that you can heal him?”

Disbelief could be heard but Harry was mostly focused on watching Deacon begin to
shudder, his cock twitching in the tight grip and he knew the man was close to an orgasm.

“That is in fact what I am telling you. Your husband spent the last few days trying to contact
me, haggard he is at the moment.”

“He’s there? Deacon’s there?”

Harry raised a brow at the name ‘Deacon’ but murmured an affirmative.

“Can I speak with him? I want to - I need to thank him for -”

“I am afraid at the moment he is preoccupied. I did mention he was exhausted so he is

currently resting. We shall arrive at the hospital in a few short hours Mrs. Kay. Please tell the
doctor in charge of your brother this.”

“T...Thank you so very much y-you have no… no idea how m-much this means to me!”
“Hmm.”

“T-tell Deacon when he wakes up that I love him please. I-I… as of late I haven’t told him
that enough - I mean, of course you don’t have to tell him! That would be strange and -”

“Goodbye Mrs. Kay.” the words were succinct and Annie stuttered a quick apology.

“You can call me Annie if you -.” Harry sneered and ended the call.

Leaning down to haul Deacon up, the officer yelping in surprise before groaning at the new
depth Harry’s cock was reaching in him. Deacon was by no means a small man but Harry
handled him easily, biceps bulging with every lift and drop as he directed Deacon’s body up
and down his cock.

“Every week Deacon . You will be here.”

“H-How could you… fuck I’m… Harry I’m -” he bit his lip to help silence the reedy sounds
of ecstasy leaving him, body trembling as the orgasm ripped from what felt like his very core,
down his toes and back up to fry his brain, the hot cum that landed on his face didn’t compare
to the one filling him and Deacon sobbed, his face pressing into the thick cord of Harry neck.

“That’s it, such a good boy David.” Harry cooed and a sick part of Deacon purred at the
compliment, the part of him that denied who he was for so long and it made him want to
puke.

He landed on the bed seconds later, bouncing on the soft mattress as Harry wiped himself
clean before summoning his clothes and throwing Deacon’s plain black shirt and jeans at
him.

“Get dressed, I did promise your wife we would be there shortly.” he was already sliding on a
dress shirt and it was there that Deacon saw the black mass of a tattoo that looked almost as if
it was moving, the two snakes coiling around one another, eyes staring right at him. Harry
straightened a tie around his neck, the cuffs on his shirt adorning links that looked as much as
the Kay family’s house mortgage and dress shoes shined to perfection.

Next to him, Deacon looked like a pleb and Harry took mercy on him and dumped a leather
jacket in his arms.

“Before we leave I should ensure we are on the same page Deacon . You will arrive here on
my doorstep every week without fail unless you have an excellent reasoning for it. In return, I
will save your brother-in-law which thereby effectively saves your marriage to your darling
wife Annie. Do we have an accord?”

Deacon flushed again, the feeling of cum between his cheeks and how pleasantly sore he was
despite the too-tight-too-much forced entry. He had not had sex like that since Harry, the kind
to leave him disoriented and only craving a cool bed and warm body next to him. Sex with
Annie was good, but it never made him crave moremoremoremore .

“You’re asking me to betray my religion. My beliefs and my wedding vows.”

 Harry tilted his head slightly and took another step forward, the three inches he had on
Deacon being put to good use.

“I’m telling you to save your marriage as any good friend would. Whether you betray your
vows or religion is completely up to you. I am not forcing you to come, you will do it of your
own free will. Just like how you got down on your knees and sucked my cock and took me in
without a fight.”

Deacon could feel his body growing hotter the closer Harry got and by the time they were
chest to chest, he could feel his pants grow tighter again, the smirk on the Englishman said he
noticed it as well.

“So do we have an accord David Kay.”

Deacon swallowed and nodded.

Harry simply smiled as if he was not blackmailing a married devout man to commit adultery,
his hands snaking around Deacon’s waist to tug them crotch to crotch.

The kiss was as searing as the sex had been and Deacon moaned into it, tasting chocolate on
Harry’s tongue before he broke the kiss. The arms around him remained and he stared in mild
fascination as Harry’s green eyes got just a bit brighter and he could taste the magic on his
tongue.

“Your wife sends her love.” the words were nothing more than a taunt and Deacon held tight
when the world suddenly felt constrictive and he found himself in the alley of a completely
different city seconds later.

Chapter End Notes

Annie from S.W.A.T (2017) plays Lucas Ripley's sister in Station 19 so I decided to do a
cross-over of sorts. Lucas and Victoria deserved better.
 Harry/Jace Wayland
Chapter Summary

Harry/Jace Wayland (ShadowHunters TV)

Chapter Notes
See the end of the chapter for notes

“What’s going on? Has there been an attack or something?” Jace asked Alec as soon as he
managed to scramble into line next to his best friend while simultaneously trying to buckle
his belt. Alec only gave him an amused stare, lips curling in the corner slightly before
nodding towards the stairs where Maryse, Robert and another man stood in conversation.

“I don’t know. I was just told to gather everyone.” Alec murmured before rolling his eyes
when Isabelle came running in as well buttoning her blouse then rushing to fix her hair.

“Why are we all up so early? Has the sky fallen or some crap?”

Anything before 8 am was too early in Jace’s opinion yet here they were standing in the
practice hall when it was barely 6:30 am. Looking around he frowned when there was no
sight of red hair on either side of him or Isabelle and from the sudden hush that fell around
those who worked at the New York Institute the meeting was about to begin.

“Where’s Clary?” he hissed to Isabelle, his adoptive sister looking around as subtly as she
could before her mother’s hawk-eyed gaze narrowed and she stilled. “Dunno, thought she
was with you last night.”

He shook his head and piped down when Maryse cleared her throat and stepped forward,
Robert and an unknown man standing at attention behind her. Jace took his time in looking
the brunet over from his military boots, black ankle-length cargo pants, and a tight shirt that
did very little to hide his physical structure underneath. His stance was that of someone who
had served with his back ramrod straight and expression indifferent.

“The High Order has decided that the New York Institute is in need of… re-education. Our
numbers are far below that of any other institute in the world and they are finding it difficult
to find a reason to maintain our sector. I managed to negotiate a deal to allow someone of
their choosing to come and personally observe us and our finest for the foreseeable future.”

She stepped to the side and the man came forward and Jace noted just how tall he was now
up close.

“This is Mister Harrison Potter, a delegate for the High Order. For those of you who do not
know the High Order presides over every institute in the world made up of a select few.
Harrison Potter is the head of the European Institute which means he heads the London Clave
as well.”

There was a ripple of murmurs at the identity of the man, a debate had gone up a few years
ago when people couldn’t figure out who the new head was only that he placed those loyal to
him in seats of power in the branch sectors he was in charge of.

Maryse stepped back entirely now and Jace watched as her and Robert’s expression pinched a
bit before relaxing. It must not have been easy to try and bargain with the Council and admit
that the NY Institute was perhaps not up to par. Maryse had always been proud of the NY
Conclave and to hand over the reins to someone who could potentially shut it down must
have her on edge.

Harrison came closer until only a few feet of space remained between him and the gathered
shadowhunters, his eyes a startling green and lips set into a line as he stared at each one of
them before his gaze settled on Jace who stood up at straight as he could against his will.

Up close the runes that covered both arms could be seen clearly, enough so that some blended
in with others where looped lines imitated one another.

He could see the runes for a few of them namely agility, amissio, dexteritus, endurance, and
precision. Jace had no doubt the man’s back and front were covered in runes as well.

He didn’t look like a paper pusher, the air around him spoke of someone who had earned
their spot and done battle, who had seen some shit many of them would not ever have to
because he was one of the people that made sure whatever evil was permanently vanquished.

“As Mrs. Lightwood mentioned my name is Harrison Potter and-”

The sound of the heavy double doors creaking loudly open made Harrison pause and every
head including Jace’s turned to stare at Clary, the redhead looking like a deer in headlights at
the sudden attention of some odd one hundred plus people.

Harry sighed to himself then turned to stare at the straggler, brow raising as he sorted through
the almost 120 files he had read over in the last week about the members within the NY
Institute until the startling red face matched the description of the file for one Ms. Clarice
Fairchild.

Her file had been extensive with enough misdemeanors to get anyone else imprisoned for
insubordination and endangerment of fellow hunters, yet all she received was a slap on the
wrists and curt ‘bad Clarice’ as if she were loveable pet dog and not a fully grown human
who knew her actions were hardly the correct course to take.

He wanted to erase her memories and send her back to her mundane little world but - his eyes
peered over at the Lightwood siblings, adoptive and biological - in order for him to erase her
memories he would also have to fix theirs and get their parents to agree was going to be more
hassle than he wanted to entertain.

“And you must be the infamous Clarice Fairchild I have heard so much about.”
Clary blinked in surprise, embarrassed flush darkening “I-I’m not sure what you’re talking
about..”

“Ah, forgive me. I only meant all of your actions thus far which endangered not only yourself
and the existence of the hunter society but also the lives of your companions. Actions, had
you been not a pet favorite for something your mother did would be punishable by
imprisonment, trial, and perhaps extirpating memories of your life here.”

Clary gaped and it was clear while she wanted to argue back she could not because Harry
knew the little mundane had known her actions were wrong, yet he had still sorted through
files upon files of misconduct.

“Before you interrupted I had been in the process of introducing myself but I also believe that
many life lessons are best learned through practicality. You all may thank Ms. Fairchild for
this punishment, while normally I do not believe in punishment for all due to the stupidity of
one, I will make an exception this time.”

Moving back to stand in front of the Lightwoods he clapped his hands once and a rune
glowed faintly under his shirt before six replicas of himself shimmered into existence, the
clones moving to stand around the room.

“As of this very second, the New York Conclave is under my control. I am judge, jury, and
executioner. If I believe your so-called talents can be used elsewhere or perhaps not at all I
will say so and you will be removed. I care not for your family name or what a single parent
did to grant you access, if I deem you are nothing but a waste of space I will treat you as
such. My word is the law and will be the only law you follow until my time here is up. As of
today, I will begin to weed out the undesirable. Now, drop and give me 300 push-ups, 100
burpees, and 200 sit-ups, you all may thank Ms. Fairchild.”

He weathered the sounds of outrage, the loudest of all being Fairchild, but he also took note
of those who immediately followed the order, the Lightwood duo and the adopted blonde
being the first.

The latter glaring at him with such venom Harry could not help but smile back in return at the
death glare. His file on Jace Herondale was as extensive as Fairchild’s with him aiding her
more often than not with the Lightwood siblings.

It was a friendship based on love or perhaps lust, the Lightwoods only following along
because of a flimsy loyalty.

Glancing over at Fairchild who had only now begun to do her pushups he resolved by the
time his duty was over with bringing the NY Institute back into tip-top form he would break
that flimsy loyalty. He could hardly let the talents of Herondale and Lightwood go to waste or
worse, get killed following Fairchild’s silly crusade.

“You have two hours to complete this task. Those who do not complete their assigned
exercises will be subject to another punishment, or... you can choose to transfer your
unfinished numbers to Ms. Fairchild.”
It was not hard to imagine what the mass of hunters would choose to do.

It took longer than he guessed it would before Herondale’s sense of duty for Clary reared its
head, the hunters all sitting and nursing aching arms, abdomens, and legs as they watched
Fairchild struggle through the accumulated exercises, a mess of vomit just two feet away
from her where she emptied her stomach not 30 minutes ago.

“This is bullshit, you can’t be allowed to do crap like this!”

Hisses of ‘Jace!’ could be heard but the blond hunter ignored them and Harry looked up from
the book he was reading to stare at the approaching hunter from where he lounged on the
steps of the training room.

“Can’t you see she’s in pain?! Tell her to stop!”

Harry raised an eyebrow at the younger man and snapped the book shut with a dull thump.
“And why would I do that?” he drawled and from the tick along his jaw Jace knew he was
being baited.

“You could give her another punishment, one that doesn’t involve her puking her guts out just
to please this sadist tendency you may have!”

“And what punishment would this be? What can be better than this in terms of lessons to be
learned.”

Jace remained silent and for a long moment, the only sound in the entire room was the wet
sobs of Clarice, her arms trembling so badly it was a wonder she was able to move them at
all.

“Fight me. If I win she stops, if I lose I will -”

“You will adhere to me without another fuss, fight, or dalliance. I will have your word as a
Shadowhunter and you will have mine.” standing Harry took the three steps needed to stand
before Jace, green eyes peering down at the shorter blond, hand held out.

“Have we reached an accord Mr. Jace Herondale protector of the foolish?”

............

“Where is that venomous hatred you showed me months ago Jace?” Harry murmured from
his position above Jace who tried and failed to sneer as he visibly melted before Harry’s
eyes.

“Where has all of that fury and wrath you directed towards me at the beginning of our
acquaintance hm?”

Jace gasped behind his hand, determined to keep the building sounds from escaping further
even as his thoughts and will all dissolved the longer he continued to spread his legs.
“The knightly honor to defend the weak. That shining chivalry to protect the foolish.” Harry
continued, watching with sharp eyes as Jace’s blue eyes rolled briefly back, pink lips parting
through the cracks his fingers provided and a reedy moan filled the room.

“Show me that fire once again Mr. Herondale, that daring passion.”

Jace felt the slick fingers slide out of him then back in again, the digits touching and prodding
his insides as if filled with curiosity before highlighting the once place he silently begged for
them to touch and silently dreaded all the same.

He had been untouched there all of an hour ago, a virgin in every sense of the word and now
he was minutes away from being fucked on his new boss’s desk.

“Move your hand.” the command was soft but Jace obediently let his hand drop to his side,
the green eyes above him growing darker still.

Harry Potter was a menace, that much every Shadowhunter in the New York conclave could
agree upon. He was a tyrant assigned to them and not even the Lightwoods with their dozens
of high-ranking contacts could get the man to be removed.

Jace gasped, the increased pressure to his prostate making his toes curl and like the rising of
the tide he could feel another orgasm building, panic filling his subconscious and his gaze
dropped to the tight black band around his cock.

“I… I -” biting his lip he swallowed the plea that very nearly escaped, the urge to spill his
guts, to beg, was becoming too much to resist.

Harry’s expression had yet to change, unfaltering in the neutrality and Jace wondered what
could get the man to flinch, to smile, to look like less of a perfect statue, when he was on a
desk sweating and moaning with his coherence drifting away.

Jace groaned, legs pushing up involuntarily as the pressure built further, his cock bobbing
with a smattering of precum that drooled from the angry flushed tip.

The desperation was eating away at his restraint and Jace clenched his teeth, hands clawing at
the desk to knock away a few loose papers with arms reach.

“So silent for someone who had loudly proclaimed a challenge just a short time ago. Where
has all the fight gone Mr. Herondale?”

Harry barely resisted in smirking as the younger man glared at him for all of two seconds
before his expression melted back into one of utter ecstasy, blue eyes blown wide at the
pupils and skin flushed a pretty pink.

He typically had no interest in relationships within his workplace, and perhaps this in of itself
could not even be called a relationship, not with the spitting venom and the sneering Jace sent
his way daily behind the closed doors of his office.

The fight had been as expected, quick but insightful.

As talented as Jace and the Lightwood siblings were, they were inexperienced still. A few
monsters and demons to fight could never compare to a battlefield, a war that Harry would
never wish for them to experience.

As compensation for being the winner, Harry had decided to use Jace as a glorified secretary
of sorts. Useless documents were handed off to Jace to read and summarize for Harry when
he was not training as well as fetching him lunch and coffee.

Sharp jabs and blunt insults veiled under a thin layer of authoritative adherence made the
time pass quicker and Harry let every comment slide under the condition it was kept behind
closed doors only.

“Do you still doubt my ability to please my sexual partners Mr. Herondale?” Harry asked,
fingers thrusting inside the sopping wet insides of Jace’s hole and like the rocking of a boat,
Jace pushed back against the digits, sinking deep down onto them with heaving breaths.

“S-Still haven’t shoo-ahh… shown me anything ye-yet.” Jace stammered and Harry hummed,
the indifference cracking with a small smile that curved at the corner of his lips, and the
slight change made all the difference.

Jace stared at the tiny smile, a near insignificant tilt of Harry’s lips that somehow made him
seem like an entirely different person. His eyes widened as Harry came closer, an impressive
figure of muscle and runes pressing almost entirely against Jace’s naked chest, and like this,
he could see just how beautiful the emerald hues were, a rare shade.

“My apologies then.” Harry murmured and Jace grunted followed by a sharp inhale when
Harry's warm mouth enveloped his nipple, the nub painfully stiff since forever and the sharp
contrast of temperature only served to make him clench down tighter around the invasive
fingers.

Harry suckled the perked nipple with as much dedication as his fingers provided Jace’s hole,
tongue dragging over the pink bud to circle it before suckling on it once more as his fingers
slowly worked Jace back into a frenzy, the younger man for the first time clinging to Harry,
fingers digging crescents into his skin.

Giving the other stiff peak equal attention Harry drew back to stare down at the panting
image Jace presented. The fearsome shadowhunter that held records of high levels of agility,
resourcefulness, strength and talent overall was reduced to a trembling mess at his hands.

His rigid cock jerked and he relished in the moan of protest when he slipped his fingers from
Jace’s hole, the pink crease gaping now and with his retreat, a bit of the copious lubricant
dribbled out.

Harry wiped the lube clinging to his fingers over the hard mass that was his cock and Jace’s
heartbeat spiked higher at the sight of it. Swallowing reflexively, Jace’s gaze was still stuck
on the cock that looked as though it could reach his stomach.

“We can still stop if you want to Herondale.” Harry’s murmured offer went through one ear
and out the next.
Whether it was the desperate need to cum from having his prostate toyed with or maybe he
was just seriously horny after not having any time to relieve his sexual frustrations after
working for the man in his free time, Jace glared up at his superior officer.

“Just do it.” Jace snarled and Harry responded with a slow tilt of his cock pushing past Jace’s
loosened rim and deep into the soft, wet furls of his hole.

They both groaned simultaneously at the feeling of rigid warmth settling deep into Jace’s
wetness, Harry’s cock twitching under the palm Jace pressed to his belly in wonder before he
gasped, blue eyes widening when Harry began to move.

Jace Herondale was experiencing utter defeat for the second time in a short while, and once
again at the hands of Harrison Potter.

He gripped the broad shoulders as his boss rammed into him, the cock thrusting into his
lower abdomen thick and invasive, and he squealed in shock when the cock ring was
suddenly removed and -

Jace’s toes curled, his hands slipping from the shoulders to scramble for a grip along the
tattooed back, nails digging into the dark runes and with a stuttered cry his cock twitched half
a dozen times before he spilled his load between their bodies.

Harry grinned down at the younger shadowhunter whose face was flushed red and blond hair
in disarray, a filthy almost pleading expression etched onto Jace’s face and those tempting
pink lips beckoned him down, so he went.

Holding the boy closer, a man in every sense of the word, but a boy to him, he crashed their
lips together, the kiss uncoordinated with a tangle of their tongues and his weight pressing
against Jace.

One hand holding onto the desk to keep his balance and the next gripping Jace’s blond hair.
Harry rolled his hips, cock grinding into Jace’s depths causing the blond to shudder again, the
shadowhunter gasping, eyes rolling backward as pleasure raced through his body.

Jace’s body went taut and the younger shadowhunter moaned into the kiss, cum squirting
from his prick to pool in his naval and over the imprint of Harry’s length nudging in his lower
belly.

Admittedly this entire fiasco could be pinned on him. A part of his relished in being able to
insult and snap at the man who by all authority could expel him from the only home he knew,
but the insults were often traded and those that were not Jace normally received silence.

Should he ever give a confession Jace would divulge that he enjoyed his time in the office
reading over mundane documents and trading barbs and information with the man.

Harrison Potter despite his tendency of invoking violence in people was perhaps the best
thing to happen to the New York conclave. The overhauling of the entire system increased
productivity efficiency and, lowered the percentage of injuries.
Jace found himself mumbling, babbling some nonsensical words as the lube that had been
patiently caressed inside him squelched with every downward thrust of the stupidly thick
cock fucking him so deeply and sending his mind in a fuzzy mess.

The noises he made, grunts, and tiny squeals all expelled from his lips against his will but
unable to stop them, Harry’s cock stirring his insides and Jace simply held onto the nearly
insignificant lucidity he had left.

With Harry squatting above him and his body bent almost in half, his legs suspended midair
he felt vulnerable, as if he could be spirited away by the sheer gut-clenching euphoria he was
experiencing under Harrison.

Another orgasm steadily simmered to the surface, the cock pounding his ass and making a
mess out of Jace throbbing with every downward shove, Harry’s balls slapping the curve of
his ass, and the intensity of the green eyes above Jace, observing Jace, it drove him crazy.

He wanted Harrison to see him, to fill his gaze with nothing but him. The peaceful quiet they
spent together in the office away from the demands of the world beyond the double doors.
There was no urgency when he sat on the opposite side of the great oak desk, no messes to
clean up, no Clary to babysit.

Harry’s breathing shifted from paced and steady to rough and uneven, sweat running in small
rivulets down his face and bare chest, the handsome face pinched with a rising urgency.

Jace cried out, eyes open wide but blind to everything when the orgasm crashed over him to
splatter onto his face and neck, Harry groaning and through the haze of orgasmic bliss Jace
could feel the pulsing of the mammoth cock, the warm cum pooling into him to heat him up
from the inside.

Harry pulled out with a slick squelch, his cock covered with lube and cum, softening between
his legs. Carefully lowering Jace the head shadowhunter massaged the blond’s thighs and
hips to put blood back into the limbs and Jace moaned softly, his hand cupping his belly.
Grabbing a wet towel from the adjacent bathroom Harry gently wiped the boy down, amused
by the serenity blanketing the blond.

Drawing him into another kiss, Jace responded quickly this time, a slow rolling of tongues
causing Jace to moan, both from the kiss and the copious cum leaking from him and onto the
towel held under his bum.

The kiss broke and Jace found himself staring into the beautiful eyes of the man who turned
his life upside down in a short few months, Harry’s thumb brushing over the kiss swollen
lower lip, the moment broken by the blaring of an alarm.

“Duty calls Herondale.” Harry murmured and climbed off the smaller body under him.

Jace groaning at his luck but dressed quickly, blue eyes watching as the thick cock
disappeared along with the tattoos and scars. Lacing up his boots he grabbed his jacket,
turning around half way to the door when his name was called, Harry straightening the
scattered papers.
 “I expect to see you here later tonight.”

Jace smirked at the invitation and left, meeting Alec and Isabelle in the corridor and trying
his best to keep his stride as normal as possible with cum leaking from his hole.

Chapter End Notes

Thanks for reading! I hope everyone is doing well and staying safe~!
 Harry/Merle Dixon
Chapter Summary

Merle never found the term 'trailer trash' to be offensive, if anything he was glad to be
one. (Harry/Merle Dixon - The Walking Dead S1)

Chapter Notes
See the end of the chapter for notes

Merle knew he was the worse kind of trailer trash since he was 13 and took his first cock up
the ass. A beer-bellied asshole who made him and Daryl call him uncle, a friend of their
equally asshole of a father.

He supposed he should have called it rape but it didn’t feel like it, the meaty fingers twisting
and thrusting in and out of him before a short but fairly fat cock invaded his ass.

He had squealed like a stuck pig then before a large hand covered his mouth, enough strength
behind the desperate thrusts to send Merle off balance and into a dark hole of depravity. At
13 years old Merle became a man, the cum of a 40 something-year-old man spurting from his
hole seconds after his so called uncle pulled out.

It was messy, but it was also good.

It became better when a small roll of cash was placed next to his head, a couple of 20s, and a
crumpled 10 dollar bill.

“For being a good boy and helping uncle out.”

Merle didn’t say thank you and the incident was never mentioned, but it sure as hell changed
him on the inside, twisting him into something he never imagined he would be in his young
life.

They said that trailer trash was genetic. If your Ma or Paw was one then you sure as hell
would be too. The blood of a trailer trash idiot was thick and heady, like a tar pit, just inside
of you.

Merle spent most of his teenage life on his knees, back and bent over, older men liking the
sight of a round, young ass with an open hole to sink their fingers, tongue, and dicks into.

And Merle... Merle did it out of lust and necessity. These perverts could provide what a job
couldn’t, what his parents refused to because they spent all of the welfare checks, and what
little change they could muster from an on and off job on crack and coke.
Too coked up to know they were pissing themselves or that Daryl had not eaten anything but
stale cereal in days.

So Merle took up the mantle of provider for himself and his little brother, the kid still sweet
but he could see that looming darkness in his eyes, the realization that his family wasn’t shit,
and maybe he wouldn’t be shit either, and maybe Merle pushed him a little too hard, shoving
him and cursing at him to harden him for the time when the world decided to tell him exactly
that too.

For each cock that he took, depending on the man Merle could earn an easy two hundred
dollars per customer. Sometimes if they felt particularly happy he would be given extra or
even a bag of groceries.

This money he worked for provided Daryl with food that they stashed under the floorboards,
cans only because the rats would bite through any plastics.

It provided Daryl with toys, little racing cars, or trucks to dig in the yard with along with
shoes when the old sneakers he had grew holes and were too small.

The more accustomed he got to flagging down men, the easier it became to identify them.
Some looked straight-laced, like modern stand-up guys who were too good for a red neck
fuck like him, only for Merle to be surprised when they bent him over and stuck a tongue up
his ass.

He learned to signal them with his eyes like a real hooker, to see if they were worth the
packet of lube he carried around by the dozen in his pockets.

He became skilled enough to see the big ballers, the high rollers who couldn’t be called like
the common man, but Merle found ways to gain their attention.

These men were often dangerous, rich enough that the handprints around his neck at the end
could only be treated with a smile or how raw his hole would feel after they were finished
with him. Usually, the payout for those kind of men totaled to around a thousand bucks.

On nights where he would be found by a particularly vicious one he would be too banged up
to work for the next several days, too high to be able to feel the raw burning of his asshole or
the bruises decorating his skin, but the fat roll of cash that was shoved into his hand or
dropped next to his head was always worth it.

He was trailer trash, the worse kind like his mother, and her mother before her, only knowing
how to take cock and say yes please to abuse, to thank his abusers for shoving a needle in his
arm then a dick up his ass.

He relished in it even though a very, very small part of him wanted to cry, to scream stop, and
for him to gather his uneasy legs from under him and run.

To run far far away and leave everything behind, even Daryl.
But he couldn’t because he loved his little snot-nosed brother and Daryl depended on him.
His brother thinking he did petty crime to get all the money for food, clothes, and toys, not
knowing his big tough older brother was being made into a bitch every time he so much as
sniffed cologne on a man.

Truckers were his favourite, big bear-like men who were gentle enough but rough when
needed, they stuffed him with cock first then food after, the money already safely in his
pocket.

He gained a reputation with them, sometimes hitching a ride across town to meet up with
another one who would park on the side of the road and have his fun before passing him over
to another friend.

It was a system he liked better than the big ballers. It paid less but he could work more.

Of course, after he beat his father’s face in and shoved his mother so hard she broke the
already rickety glass table that all came to an end.

Daryl with his swollen face and broken arm had tried to stop him from killing their father and
Merle only stopped so he could get his little brother to the small clinic in their neighborhood,
the doctor there used to children being bruised and women being battered to really care much
for questions.

He shoved a ziplock pouch of cash into Daryl’s arms, the bag in three brown paper bags for
security, and the next night the police came for him. They didn’t care that their father almost
killed his brother, they only cared about the coke his father passed them.

On the side of the road with only the sirens on for light, they took turns at him, Merle’s hands
behind his back locked tight with handcuffs and a sock shoved in his mouth to gag him.

It hurt, the fingers shoving in dry and the cock even drier, the men switching out and the only
reprieve of lube being in the form of the first load from officer number one, at least the high
rollers had the decency to get him high out of his mind first.

Jail wasn’t bad. He found himself a crew and a Daddy on the side. Someone to protect his
back in exchange for Merle riding him in the open cell during the day for anyone and all to
see or the showers braced against the wall. Sometimes when the patrol was sparse he would
be dragged into the laundry room, dozens of eyes on him as his jail daddy pounded him right
next to the industrial dryers.

He got a call from Daryl every two weeks, his little brother taking care to avoid trouble but
their father was a walking dick and hardly the good kind.

Daryl wouldn’t openly say it because he had too much pride for that, but Merle could hear
the alteration in his voice as if his lip or mouth was swollen, sometimes there would be
movement and hisses of pain.

He stayed in jail for three months before he was released, his jail daddy dropping a final load
in him the night before he left.
Stepping foot back into the Dixon household he scrunched his nose at the smell and went to
find Daryl, little brother obviously spending the money but slowly so not to raise suspicion,
his cheeks a bit fatter.

The second time Tim Dixon laid a hand on Daryl was his last, Merle beating the man’s face
in until he felt bone gave him and Tim stopped fighting, he killed him with the same baseball
bat Tim Dixon struck his little brother with, his mother screaming murder as she ran outside
with a needle in her arm and her panties down.

He was sentenced to only 15 years because of the overwhelming evidence of Daryl being
abused and his father using illegal substances. A year after he left jail Merle was back behind
bars again.

He took dick like a champ, his jail daddy having been released six months after him but some
of the old dogs knew of him, and while not liking their hole accompanied with balls and a
penis he was an honorary member.

He fucked crewmates and prison guards alike, building connections with his ass and mouth,
gang-bangs while not a personal favourite allowed him enough leeway to ask for things to be
sent to his brother. By the time he got out of jail Daryl would be 29 years old and Merle
would be pushing the latter end of his 30s.

His brother wrote to him some, called every now and then until he didn’t, his life outside
there in the free world too important to worry about a brother who would be stuck in jail for
almost 20 years.

………

Being reunited with Daryl after 15 years was somewhat weird, the lanky kid he left behind
now a hardened man with tattoos and a biker gang leather jacket.

“Mom’s dead.”

Was the first thing Daryl uttered to him after picking him up from outside of jail.

“Good.”

Was the first and only reply he gave to his little brother.

If he had known that being released from jail would result in him being dragged into a
zombie apocalypse he would have savored that fat dick from Ramirez, a Latino prison guard.
Instead, now he to make sure not to get bitten while chopping the undead fuckers and having
Daryl’s back.

Merle wanted to ditch the group they were with but Daryl, his stupid, dumbass little brother
still believed in the good of humanity wanted to stay, and Merle had been apart for him way
too long to simply ditch his not so little brother.

“You fucker! Fucking uncuff me! I’ll kill you and that chinese motherfucker if you don’t!
Don’t leave me here! Hey! I said you can’t leave me here!”

Merle screamed at the closed door, the handcuff around his wrist tight and left no wiggle
room, the walkers behind the door clawing at it and he knew that eventually, they would get
in past the door and right at him.

He was basically a sacrifice at this point. Tied tight with no escape with the only key to
handcuffs down in the drainage.

“Fuck!” he screamed again, tugging harder at the cuffs.

He wasn’t religious, never prayed to the imaginary fat man in the clouds even when he was
hurting first from his father’s fists, and then from a man rutting on top of him. He wouldn’t
pray, he refused to pray for help. Any trouble he got himself into he always got out. But he
was tempted.

Turning in search of the tool bag Merle reared back as far as he could at the sight of a man
standing in the middle of the roof, his heart pounding in fright.

“Who the hell are you huh? Did that fucker send you? Did that fucker Rick send you?” the
cuffs rattled against the pipe and Merle sneered at the silent man.

He was a tall bastard, broad in the shoulders with a leather jacket on, his frame huge in
comparison to Merle’s. He could try to figure out how the fuck the fucker had gotten on top
of the roof without him noticing but for now he needed to get the goddamned cuffs off his
hand.

“Can you help? I’m stuck here, I’m cuffed to this fucking pipe see?” he rattled the attachment
to his wrist.

“And those things are gonna burst through the door any minute now. I need help, can you
help me bud?” he smiled at the end, a shaky nervous thing.

Merle would swallow his pride this one time and ask for help from a complete stranger, better
a stranger than those goody-two-shoes shits his brother apparently took to.

The man raised a hand, a finger pointing to something behind Merle and he turned, eyes
widening before pain spiked in his head, his consciousness fluttering for a moment before he
slumped over.

Waking up was a bitch and Merle cursed the entire way through it, his hands tied together as
well as his feet and after observing the place for a few days, mouthing off whoever he could,
he learned the laws of whatever compound he had been taken to.

It was a do or die sort of situation and more than once he witnessed someone die, too
goddamn stubborn to listen, too prideful to simply submit.
Luckily for Merle he knew everything about submission, which was why he found himself on
his hands and knees with a throat full of cock.

If they were good they would be fed, given water and a soft mattress to sleep on.

If they were bad they would be thrown out into the pit for entertainment against the walkers
with a fucking fork or spoon as their only weapon.

Merle had no intention of being one of the dumbasses in the pit fighting for his life, he did
that shit enough already, up on the roof, had been desperate enough to live he considered
hacking his arm off to escape the undead pounding at the door.

So he sucked and slobbered over the cock he was given, gagged on it until his jaw ached,
until he grew addicted to the taste and size, he said please and thank you as if the hung fucker
before him was Jesus Christ.

He turned around when told to, spread his ass cheeks apart so the man that stood at the top of
the food chain in the compound could see just how eager he was for him, for his cock, and
Merle gave a giddy laugh as he felt the broad tip push at his barely stretched hole, the slow
descent of it felt endless and when Harry - because that was the fucker’s name Harry , when
Harry withdrew Merle braced himself, teeth clench to contain the yowl of pleasure.

His toes curled as Harry snapped his hips forward, cock propelling and spearing him open
anew.

He lost track of how long he had been kidnapped and brought to the compound that was so
heavily guarded against both humans and walkers attempting escape would be futile. As the
days blurred together he also lost count of how many times Harry stuffed him full of cock
until he felt physically sick from it, his stomach being churned and prodded by the fattest
dick he ever had the pleasure of swallowing with his bottom mouth.

The man remained mostly silent during each session, sometimes returning for seconds and
thirds when there was a particularly good hunt.

Humans, deer, wild hogs, wild dogs, and birds were all lumped into one category - dinner -
and Merle just ate, not trying to distinguish between what meat he was eating only that he
filled his belly, and when it was not food to bulge his flat stomach it was Harry's dick.

Merle knew he was an old whore, the worse kind of trailer trash at its finest, his body count
lost upon him like most of his childhood and he was perfectly fine with that.

His childhood was the sole reason he could eat happily, sleep in a comfy bed, and spread his
legs each and every day without worrying about zombie attacks or being left chained to a
fucking pipe on a fucking roof by some china-man or wannabe cowboy.

“Fuckfuckfuckfuck!”

Merle bit the pillow to stifle a squeal, a fucking squeal like he was 13 again and couldn’t take
cock properly, Harry chuckling behind him and Merle gasped at the slap to his ass, a heavy-
handed open palmed slap.

“Good boy. Bounce back just like that for me.” Harry murmured and Merle did just that.

Leaning forward he arched his back a bit more, Harry’s cock slick with spit and lube sliding
out of him before Merle threw his ass back, stars dancing in his vision as the cock roughly
dragged over his prostate, the modifications of a half a dozen marble-like implants along the
length making it all the more pleasurable.

He bounced back on the cock for as long as Harry allowed him to before he took control
again, his hands gripping tight enough to leave purposeful bruises, Merle’s dick drooling
underneath him but unable to cum, the black band around the base and his balls ensuring
that.

Pinning Merle’s hands above his head Harry pressed his full weight down onto Merle’s back
and the older Dixon groaned, the angle pushing the fat piece of cock meat directly against his
sweet spot and he moaned, lips uttering praises to the man ruining his hole from the inside
out.

Merle groaned in pain as teeth sank into his neck, Harry biting down hard enough to draw
blood as his cock throbbing where it remained rooted deep in Merle’s ass, ropes of cum
shooting out, and again for the millionth time Merle was thankful for his gender.

As a woman even if he had escaped being knocked up until now Harry surely would have left
one in him, the cum copious enough to leak out in rivulet of thick white and Merle mumbled
a thank-you.

He wanted to cum too but wouldn’t dare touch himself.

“Open up.”

Merle spread his legs again and winced as cold metal pressed to his swollen hole, a butt plug
to keep all of Harry inside him until later.

“It’s pretty.”

Harry murmured again and Merle wondered why the man was suddenly so talkative today.

Normally he could not get more than a word from him, Harry simply content or more than
likely amused at Merle’s rambling whether they were racist or inane.

Merle knew nothing about the top dog in the compound, only that his morals were looser
than Merle’s man-cunt and he hated tobacco smoke, he also had a preference for keeping
Merle baby smooth all over especially his crotch and asshole.

Rolling over onto his back he stared up at the younger man, Harry's eyes a weird colour of
green and yellow. They looked freaky and Merle, who was not so easily unnerved could
never stare into them for too long.
 “We are going on a raid tomorrow. A prison to the East. Scouts say they have food and
people.”

Merle perked up, sitting up slowly to ease his aching asshole. He waited, hardly brave
enough to talk without permission outside of fucking, and Harry’s rough hand cupped his
clean-shaven jaw, touching the bloody lip he had bitten not too long ago.

“Do you want to come?”

Merle quickly nodded, not like he had much of a choice. This would be his first time out of
the compound in the however many weeks or months he was kidnapped.

It also meant that Harry was perhaps beginning to trust him, or testing him, or both.

Merle obediently opened his mouth when Harry nipped his lip, the mouthwash still present
on his tongue, and Merle moaned, legs spreading on their own violation to allow the hand
pawing at the anal plug to slip it out before a hard cock replaced it.

Chapter End Notes

Someone asked for Merle, I have no idea who, but wah-la.

Merle just seemed like the type to curse at any given opportunity so I had fun with it. In
this story, he's also younger than he was in TWD, like a good decade and a half younger,
cause I believe was like 55-ish in canon.

Harry has Penile implants which are also called Yakuza beads, pearls, ball bearings,
speed bumps, penile marbles.

Hope you guys are safe and doing well!

 Harry/Jack Sparrow pt 2
Chapter Summary

Part two of Harry/Jack Sparrow (see chapter 40)

Chapter Notes

Top Harry Saga 2 is up and running so check out Top Harry Saga: Second Edition for
more!

See the end of the chapter for more notes

Jack woke with a headache so righteous he wondered if the Gods themselves had come down
to deliver it, and upon trying to roll over he soon discovered his lower back too, was in a state
of unbelievable disfunction.

He would have liked to pretend his memories from last night had taken flight along with his
intoxication but his memories were perfectly intact, all of them from his deal with the man in
the tavern to him being anally violated because he had lost said deal.

Jack rubbed his tired eyes and stared down at his distended midsection, his belly big and
round with the grapefruit-sized eggs the not-so-human Harry had deposited inside of him.

They were warm, the heat of something alive , gestating within him, became all too real.

They were alive inside of him .

“Fuck.” he muttered, hand hesitating to touch the swollen middle before he gave in and
caressed the stretched skin of his belly.

Any muscle definition he once carried along his abdomen was gone and all that remained of
the tan belly was the bloated stomach that could not be mistaken for anything other than him
being pregnant.

One of the eggs moved within him, shifting against the others and Jack gasped at the
sensation. This was real, he was pregnant with the eggs of some Sea God.

Fuck.

His father would probably smack him upside the head for getting himself into such trouble,
but it was not as if Jack meant to, trouble just naturally found him.
If anyone was to blame it would have to be his parents.

One from a tribe in the forest that actively sought out dangerous animals and the next, a
pirate with such a reputation he was feared by most if not all the ocean criminals.

A solid argument.

His genetic disposition for attracting trouble could hardly be called his fault. That settled it.

Rubbing his belly Jack pondered on how exactly he would be able to hide his stomach when
he looked like a wench five months along in her term.

Groaning when another egg shifted he relaxed against the soft mattress, one of the small
luxuries beyond alcohol he indulged in.

Wearing an oversized fur coat in Caribbean weather would be a spell for disaster, the weather
too hot, and it would seem strange of him to do something so unnatural.

He could claim illness until it was time to have them removed, maybe Gibbs would believe
him. Swan and Turner, however… maybe he could have them thrown overboard or locked
up.

Jack should have been more disgruntled to have only four collective intelligent people on his
crew, himself included, but it often worked out in his favor until he didn’t.

Another egg moved and Jack paused in his mental rambling for a moment. How exactly were
the eggs to come out?

His eyes widened and he sat up, his body still in a slouch because of the sheer girth of his
middle.

“No.” shaking his head Jack chuckled in mirthless laughter.

“No, no, no, no, no. No way. Not gonna happen.”

His asshole twitched as if calling a bluff to his denial and Jack whimpered as something slick
and wet dribbled from his hole.

Reaching back he was surprised to not feel the crease wrecked wide open given the
punishment it endured last night, instead of gaping wide it felt loose, the rim no longer as
tight as it had been before Harry had -

He blushed and banished the thoughts of last night, especially his cries that were enough to
fill a brothel. His voice reached pitches he had no idea was capable for him, and Harry, that
damnable bastard had just stood there and continued as Jack made a mess of himself.

Jack groaned, hands coming up to cover his face as the blush persisted to levels beyond his
control, like this, thinking of the events of last night his body warmed, growing heated from
the rather striking intensity of memories.
Before last night Jack would have never thought of himself as a peter-tickler, his preference
had always rested with the fairer gender where he could grasp bountiful or petite breasts and
sink himself into a wet snatch. Maybe he had a whelp or seven out there among the islands,
children he knew nothing about and had no interest in claiming.

The life of a pirate was his, an inheritance passed down from his father and his father before
him, but Jack had never considered doing the same.

Did not believe in all of his years of sailing the seven seas he would ever become a parent
because what sane person wanted to care for a screaming little thing who could not function
without constant care?

His hole twitched again and the sensation of something slick dribbling from him caused Jack
to wiggle a bit on the bed, the sheet rumpling under his ass.

He could acknowledge it was not an uncomfortable feeling per se, just weird, and when Jack
rolled onto his side the eggs moved with him in a subtle displacement of weight.

Jack supposed he should be alarmed at how quickly he was becoming comfortable with the
awareness of the eggs moving within his guts or did he have a womb now, whatever.

Pressing two fingers to his hole he took his time in exploring the newfound wetness coating
his loosened ass, the two digits sliding over the crease Harry had invaded thoroughly. The
slickness almost felt like oil but a bit thinner in texture.

Wet enough that when Jack pushed a tentative finger inside it slipped in without bother, a
shiver making his toes curl and his cock perk up under the bounty of his belly.

Had it felt like this last night?

“No… it was bigger.” he mumbled aloud, eyes closing as he breached himself with the
second digit.

Jack could lie to himself a say what he was currently doing all came to be from curiosity, that
him adding a third and a fourth finger to the mix was all part of the plan to sate his inquisitive
nature.

“ Oh… oh that’s nice…” Jack’s breath hitch as his fingers pushed knuckle deep into the wet
crevice, the slick further in than he anticipated it had been.

It coated his insides until his walls were slippery and somehow… somehow it felt amazing
each time he shoved the four digits back in, each thrust growing faster and faster still to
further ascend his shortened hitched breathing.

Jack groaned aloud, gold-capped teeth biting his lower lip to hold in any other desperate
sounds that tried to escape.

Grinding his fingers in he shuddered out his release when the middle finger brushed against a
spot in his ass that sent fireworks through his body, his face buried into the pillow to hide the
wrecked moan as cum spurted from his cock and onto the underside of his belly.
“What the damnable hell was that…” Jack asked the empty room and a seagull squawked
outside the window as if answering him.

Dragging a hand down his face Jack sighed in frustration.

He had a decision to make, a choice that could determine his future or lack thereof, and
really, there was not much of a choice to make.

To have immortality over mortal limitations was hardly a thought-provoking discussion he

had to have with himself. To not be confined in a body that could so easily break and get sick,
to not be afraid of being shot dead center in his forehead like some damn practice target.

To not have to fear death.

He cradled the mound of his belly, fingers brushing gently over the stretched skin.

If he could be immortal at the cost of birthing a God’s children then who the fuck was he to
say no.

“Tell yer dad to bring his ass back here, I’ve got somethin’ to tell em yea?” Jack mumbled to
his stomach and outside the lone window of his cabin, a seagull squawked in alarm.

Jack tried his best to not show how shocked he was at the sudden appearance of the man
standing by the foot of the bed, the uptick of his heart the only indicator of his surprise.

“Yer a creep y’know that? The biggest pervert if I ever saw one.” Jack shifted on the bed as
the man seemed to glide towards him.

Harry's clothes gleamed with wealth with each step until he hovered over Jack on the bed,
strong arms braced on either side of the pirate's head and something he refused to
acknowledge already a rigid line pressing against his belly from under the leather trousers the
man wore.

“Hmm, and your words are incredibly contradictory.” Harry murmured, a finger swiping
through the mess lingering on the underside of Jack’s belly.

The captain’s breath hitched as he unsuccessfully tried to squirm away from the offensive
hand now trailing upward, the digits enclosing around a stiff bronze suntanned nipple and the
subsequent tug made Jack arch halfway off the bed.

Harry hummed again, emerald eyes staring at the stiff curve of Jack’s cock, and the pirate
watched as four coral-coloured tentacles appeared from behind the God in human form, the
tendrils already dripping a viscous slick.

He couldn’t object, or rather he did not want to protest when the tentacles found home on his
body, a full-body shudder wracking his being.

Two of the tendrils unfurled like blossoming flowers before latching onto his nipples, Jack’s
yelp of surprise swallowed by Harry’s kiss until the pirate could only moan into the heated
mouth as a tiny tendril slithered into each nipple to wriggle around in the meat of his
pectorals.

It was invasive but he could hardly think about the horror of having his nipples penetrated
when his cock followed suit, a larger tentacle encompassing his length in one fell swoop, the
inside of the tactile member pulsing and wet, almost as if he were balls deep in some woman
and not a fricking weird feeler.

Jack’s moans picked up and Harry consumed each of the delightful sounds, his tongue sliding
slowly over Jack’s before flattening the pirates so he could dominate the kiss while a smaller
tendril pushed and prodded its way into Jack’s urethra.

The fourth tentacle hovered by his ass, every now and then it would slide forward to smear
the thick goo over his cheeks and a sneaking slip across his asshole as if teasing.

“Do you promise to be mine Jack Sparrow?”

In the blur of pleasure, Jack forced his eyes to focus, his ears picking up the accent on
Harry’s tongue while his own felt like lead. The tilt of words not one he had ever heard but it
sounded pleasant, a vibration of lust reverberating from his toes to his ears.

“Yes.” he slurred, a task to speak but he managed it nonetheless.

“Do you promise to be my bride, the mother of all my future children?” Harry’s voice seemed
to echo, a loud yet soft reiteration of sound, and Jack nodded, brown eyes rolling back as he
came inside the pulsing cock sleeve of Harry's tentacle.

“I need verbal confirmation birdie.”

“Y-Yesh! Yes!” he cried out and Harry smiled, a serene pleasant curve of his lips that only
accentuated his stupid handsome features.

Jack gasped when his legs were spread, a scene similar to that of last night with more
tentacles exposing him for the man.

With a pillow under his back and hips, he watched as the clothes seemed to melt from Harry’s
figure like water, and there, resting on the arch of his burdensome belly he saw the biggest
cock he had ever laid his eyes on.

Harry’s smile stretched further when Jack tried once again to squirm away, his alarm evident,
but the fight disappeared as quickly as it arrived when his balls were enveloped as well.

Between his nipples, cock, and balls being stimulated Jack could only gasp in slight pain as
blunt wetness pushed at the rim of his ass, the slick goo covering the cock making the slide
easier and Jack’s hand clutched the bedsheets as Harry continued to spear him open inch by
glorious inch.

“Big… so big…” Jack groaned and Harry observed the slow process of sinking himself balls
deep into the pirate, his hole squelching from the slicked oils covering his cock, and the
moment he bottomed out in the pirate they both groaned in synchroneity.
Jack lost sight of time, the sky outside darkening with stormy clouds and the waves rocking
against the ship almost in time with the powerful sanity shattering thrusts the God above him
delivered. He could only see directly in front of him, Harry’s expression became less cool
and collected and more aroused, his green eyes dark and the hand clutching both his wrists
tightening.

He felt the pulsing and the throbbing then finally the warm rush of cum filling him, his body
being forcefully turned around by the tentacles holding onto his limbs so he hovered above
the bed with the weight of his belly almost touching the mattress.

His weight seemingly nonexistent against the limbs of the God and Jack could not stifle the
broken moan should he have tried. The pirate’s cock released another spurt of cum into the
pink sleeve suckling at it and through the haze of pleasure, he felt his nipples tingle before
Harry took what little coherence he had left.

Outside a storm howled in its ferocity, a mask to Jack’s cries and the God’s groans of
delectation, Harry taking ebullience in watching Jack’s hole continuously swallow his cock,
the pucker spread wide around his shaft, soft and compliant in receiving his entirety.

The Sea God rumbled and the clouds mimicked him, the downpour descending increased as
he came again, the copious cum flooding Jack’s insides to join the previous spillage, the eggs
jostling with each hard thrust.

The tendrils moved the pirate upright, Harry’s hands sliding up along his sweat-damp body,
over the large belly, and up to his chest. Jack trembled as the tentacles detached themselves
from his sore nipples, each bud now puffy, almost swollen, and he moaned softly as Harry
massaged them, kneading and squeezing until the pirate captain felt a pressure begin to
build.

“W-Wait! Don’t -”

He bit his tongue immediately after Harry’s teeth, unnaturally sharp now sank into the soft
flesh of his neck, the hands kneading his chest pinching the nipples until the pressure escaped
and white milk squirted from the puffy nubs.

Jack shuddered, a convulsion that lasted seconds as each nerve in his body was set on fire, a
heat that raced down his spine and to every crease and crevice he possessed, lightning
flashing beyond the window and under his skin.

Harry groaned aloud, fingers pinching Jack's overstimulated nipples harder than intended,
milk squirting in two short bursts before dribbling down his fingers as he orgasmed deep into
the man who was now his, the throbbing erection releasing thick ropes of cum that bathed
Jack's insides, and when he pulled out, the limp cock covered in slimy slick and cum he
found Jack already unconscious.

Brushing the inky black strands of his hair back Harry laid the pirate onto the bed, the
tentacles retreating and his large hand touching the expanse of Jack’s belly where the eggs
moved minutely.
 Leaning down the Sea God’s inhuman tongue licked over Jack’s cock, cleaning the human's
prick with his mouth before removing the mess on the underside of the tanned belly.

The eggs knocked against one another at the close proximity, the fertilization process
successful and the life encased in the shells were now aware of their sire, the tiny life
ballooning in size as the hours ticked by until their forms pressed against the confines of the
exoskeleton.

The shells would not break until ejected from Jack’s body but now they moved on their own,
pushing at their enclosure and bashing into one another.

By the time Jack was pulled from his slumber it would be time for him to give birth, by then
the eggs would release a hormone to trigger labor and Harry would welcome his newest
clutch. Patting Jack’s belly the eggs settled from the silent command.

Gathering the pirate into his arms observed the sleeping face of the human he chose to be his,
and as the storm resided over the horizon, the dark clouds disappearing with the rebellious
waves Harry did the same with Jack in his arms.

Chapter End Notes

Since there was an overwhelming response for part two of Harry/Jack Sparrow wah-la.

I believe this is where I'll end off Top Harry Sagas. I already have several
ideas/prompts/chapters for a THS part 2 in the works, I just need to actually sit and
complete them along with everything else I have in limbo *insert nervous laughter*

So be on the lookout for part 2 of the Sagas, and I hope to see you all there. Thanks for
all the love THS got, seriously, you all are awesome.

Stay safe guys!

Please drop by the Archive and comment to let the creator know if you enjoyed their work!