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Of course the little fae followed his grandniece down into his lair.
As soon as the god locks eyes with the young man, the pirate is transfixed on him, barely gasping out “Lord Hades,” and then seemingly forced into a deep bow, on his knees, forehead to the floor in respect to his rightful deity.
The sight of someone finally giving the respect Hades is due, after almost twenty years under the barrier, sends an unexpected rush of heat through the god that he hasn’t felt in much too long. Like a fire reigniting from the cold water dousing his ex-lover left behind.
“What-?” Ah, the demigod is still behind on the uptake, the god of the dead notes as she comes to stand beside the other male. “Hook, I told you to stay behind and watch over the crew. Get up-”
Hades easily pushes the pirate captain away from her first mate by simply stepping between them, forcing the woman to back up.
“He can’t hear you,” he tells her. “Not in the presence of me, anyways.”
“What do you mean?” Her eyes narrow dangerously. “What have you done to Harry?”
“Nothing that his nature doesn’t already make him want to do.”
She still doesn’t seem to get it, though.
Hades sighs. “Did it ever occur to you that your daddy sent you to me with this particular problem because of who I am?”
“The god of death.”
“The god of the fae,” he corrects her, though her first stab isn’t technically wrong either. “Gods have many domains, dear niece of mine.” Hades walks to stand behind the young fae now, causing the boy’s breathing to hitch. “Just as fae have many needs.” He reaches down and ghosts a touch over the young male’s bent back, prompting a shiver from the half-fae, from Harry.
“Oh, I’m going to enjoy this,” Hades says to himself. His eyes wander appreciatively over the prone form before him, utterly at his mercy and ready to please-
“Whatever ideas you’ve got in your head, get them out,” the child of Ursula demands, stepping closer. “Harry is not-”
“Look,” he turns to her. “Do you want your little rabid pirate problem to be fixed or not?”
“And your idea of fixing-”
“Is exactly what it looks like,” Hades confirms. “It’s not necessarily pretty or Auradon approved, but it’s the truth.” He starts undoing one of his many belts. “And unlike Auradon, I won’t bother hiding the truth.”
“You can’t be serious! Fucking-“
“Is the only way - unless you want him going around the Isle and offering up his services to anyone that will have him, or trying to get his rocks off by killing everyone in reaching distance.” He finishes undoing his last buckles and proceeds with the button and zipper of his pants.
That possibility has her drawing up short, but not backing down.
“Then I’ll take care of it,” she decides.
Hades laughs, his hand going down to tap the boy’s lower back. The son of Hook instinctively understands, his feet getting under him and lifting his ass up in offering.
“Yeah, no. Clearly you’ve never interacted with a true fae creature before,” he explains, moving the pirate’s red coat aside. “They take and they take until they’re satisfied, and they’re almost never satisfied, starting from about the age you mortals call sixteen to the end of their early adult years.”
He pulls down the teen’s pants far enough to expose his full backside, and the boy helpfully pulls them the rest of the way down to step out of. There is no underwear to pull down, either out of Harry’s own preference or convenience. Likely both.
Hades finds himself licking his lips.
“Tell me, now, Harry,” he addresses the half-fae, “how many people have you killed within the last week?”
The demigod shakes her head. “He hasn’t- I’ve made sure-”
“Thirteen,” the first mate gasps out.
The young captain looks genuinely confused.
“And how many have you bedded?” Hades continues.
“Twenty,” comes the instant reply.
“How-?” his niece wonders.
“Honestly, I’m surprised he’s lasted this long,” Hades says, hand stroking one of the boy’s porcelain cheeks while his other hand goes to the god’s member.
“Adolescent fae are some of the most wild. He’s what, seventeen?” The king of the fae parts the young male’s cheeks, showing a puckered, pink glistening ring of muscle.
The captain beside him makes a noise of protest as the god inserts a finger dry, prompting the boy to let out a harsh pant, his burning face buried in his arms.
“He should have been showing signs way before this,” Hades continues as if his actions are regular everyday occurrences, quite pleased at the easy give of the boy beneath him as he inserts another digit, the teen’s body providing natural lube to make the process easier. A moan spills out from the boy at the action.
“The only reason that he hasn’t, or has only gotten this bad now is because he’s only half and the barrier is preventing much of the effects of his fae heritage.” He inserts another finger, continuing his administration to prepare the young teen before him.
“If I had to guess,” he grunts, trying to stay on track even as he becomes increasingly distracted by the wet warmth around him, fascinated with the way his digits are practically sucked into the young body, adding a fourth digit, “he’s probably one of those rare half-fae that eventually have their fae-blood dominate their human blood.”
“And this all means you have to fuck my first mate because-?”
Hades smiles charmingly at her. “If I don’t, who will?”
She does not find that particular comment as amusing as he does, if her quirked eyebrow is anything to go by.
“Fine,” the god of death relents, pulling his fingers out of the boy. The son of Hook whimpers at the loss, his hole uselessly opening and closing, trying to find where the pressure inside himself went.
“Because a god or another older, stronger fae’s blood or seed is the only way for a young fae to settle down that doesn’t result in them sleeping with a whole village or slaughtering all its inhabitants to satisfy their cravings. And since I’m not exactly inclined to see how much of my blood it would take under the barrier to get him calmed down, it’s either this or you try Maleficent, which, trust me, you really don’t want to go there.”
“Now,” Hades says, lining himself up with the hole of the captain’s first mate, “you gonna stand there while I give Hook what he needs or are you going to try and further prolong this thing and wait till he eventually gets around to killing you?”
The little sea witch glares at him. “Does Harry not get a choice?”
He smirks. “Hey, son of Hook,” he purposefully lets the head of his member tease the edge of the teen’s hole, causing the brunet to almost choke on his own spit, “do you want me to continue or-”
“Fuck me!” comes the immediate response from below him, and another wave of heated attraction runs through Hades at the sound. “Please, just fuck-!”
The older male does just that, pushing into the teen quickly, effectively cutting the first mate off, and it’s glorious. Heat all around the god of the fae, and the way his member looks, pulling out and then thrusting back into that warm tight hole. Fae-creatures truly were the best.
How he missed indulging in this - helping the young supple fae who would come to him out of desperation and relief. He was going to milk this for all it’s worth. Fuck the boy senseless and demand he come back for more the next week. The young teen wouldn’t be able to go for very long without, anyway.
Hades makes sure to hold the boy steady by the waist as his legs give out and his body truly just becomes a vessel for him to fuck into as he continues to thrust in and out.
The teen below him seems to babble nonsense and moan, his body continuing to stretch over his cock as his face is practically scrubbed across the floor with his thrusts, his arms since giving out on holding any part of him up. Hades imagines the boy likes the pain, gets off on it.
“Moo-ore, my- my lord,” the brat demands breathily.
Hades gives a particularly hard thrust in answer, causing Harry to shout and gasp. “Ah!”
The god of death decides it’s time for a change in position. He pulls out only to turn the boy onto his back on the floor from the grip he has on the pirate’s waist before plunging back in. This time he has the glorious view of Harry's red face, the color of which continues down his neck to disappear under the rag that he calls a shirt. Said shirt has fallen towards his armpits due to their position, showing off a pale six-pack over the prominent v of the boy’s pelvis and the hair leading down to the pirate’s erection that’s sprung free due to the god’s ministrations.
At this angle, Hades finds himself sinking a bit deeper into the body before him and hitting the boy’s sensitive bundle of nerves more consistently. This causes Harry to squirm at the older man’s every other thrust and the boy’s head to turn to and fro, eyelids fluttering. “Uh-um!”
Somewhere in it all, as the god is admiring his new view, the pirate comes to wrap his legs around Hades to keep him close. The teen’s legs seem to clench and release around him in the same measure that his hole does, trying to wring the blue-haired man for all that he’s worth.
Hades finds himself grinning, feeling exhilarated and powerful for the first time the past two decades. He can’t believe he forgot what it was like to function in his domain in this way.
“Who’s your god, huh?” he finds himself asking in between thrusts, practically laughing, feeling those wiry legs squeeze him between those strong, powerful thighs. The teen is his, and he won’t let him forget it - forget how powerful they are together - that they need each other to survive under this cruel barrier.
Harry groans his name dutifully, his hands scrambling behind and above himself on the floor looking for purchase to try and shove himself further onto his god’s cock, searching for release. Hades feels the resulting wave of worship wash over him in waves, even muted as it is within the prison they call the Isle.
The power of worship gets even stronger as, several thrusts later, the older male gives the brat underneath what he wants, the boy coming untouched as the god of fae plunders his insides for all they’re worth. He works the young pirate through it, seeking his own release as he continues to thrust into Harry’s oversensitive body, which jerks and clenches around him dutifully until the god is coming deep inside him.
In the ensuing silence, only their panting can be heard as they try to come back to themselves. Hades takes deep calming breaths, his fingers clenching and unclenching around Harry’s waist. When he opens his eyes, as he realizes they must have closed in his moment of release, he catches the pirate’s sea-green eyes. They fill him with an echoing of that power of worship he felt just seconds ago.
The older male’s fingers dig more firmly into the divots of the teens hips, keeping them firmly connected as he stares the pirate down.
“Are you going to pull out or what?” comes his niece's voice from a few feet away.
Hades’ looks up amidst Harry’s amused giggles from the floor to find the sea witch sitting backwards on his chair by his record player. She appears bored, but the god of the dead has been around long enough to sense the truth of carefully hidden ire ready to strike when the time is right.
“Hand me that blue rock over there,” he tells her, gesturing to the blue gemstone sitting on the side table by his ratty old couch.
She stands up and grabs the item in question, giving it a critical look. “And this is?” she asks. She holds the rock just out of reach.
“What? Don’t trust me?” He feigns hurt, hand still outstretched for the stone.
“Never,” she glares, but drops the stone into his hand anyways.
Hades grins, turning back to look down at the now calm pirate. “Alright, princess,” he says. “I’m going to pull out now and you’re going to stay still while I plug you up.”
The half-fae’s eyes dilate at that, but his member stays noticeably flat. Good, which means Hades hasn’t lost his touch.
His niece makes a noise at that - disgust or surprise, or both - which Hades promptly ignores as he makes good on his word. He pulls out his now softened member from the warm confines it’d been encased in before quickly shoving the blue ember into Harry’s hole to keep the god’s essence from spilling out. As soon as the stone settles into place, a shock of blue overtakes the pirate’s eyes for a second, as if sealing his seed into the teen, and Hades knows the teen won’t be able to resist coming back to him, fae needs or not.
The older god looks to the demigod next to them to see if she noticed the change in her first mate, the subtle claim taking hold, even underneath the barrier, but she only appears disgusted by the display he and her first mate make.
“Was that really necessary?” she asks as Hades finally releases his hold on her crewmember. Harry’s lower body falls ungracefully to the floor. The teen hisses as the impact jars his makeshift buttplug, but otherwise doesn’t complain.
“Hey, you want him up and killing and fucking everyone in sight?” the god of the dead asks, casually tucking himself away and doing up his pants, but deciding to leave his belts as they are.
“Maybe, if the alternative is more of-” she gestures to the two of them, with Harry finally getting up from the ground, pulling on his pants, and wiping his own ejaculation off his stomach and on to the back of the couch to try and rid himself of it, “-whatever that was.”
“I think the word you're looking for is awesome sex,” the god says. “Which, you're welcome for, by the way.” He winks as the newly standing son of Hook, who doesn’t seem to quite know how to respond. Hades notices the teen’s eyeliner is smudged deliciously across his features.
“So he’s fine now?” the daughter of Ursula asks, coming to stand between the two of them.
Hades crosses his arms with a smirk. “For as long as he’s a young fae, he’ll need to come by once a week, at least, to keep his more destructive urges manageable.”
She doesn’t look happy at the news, but she seems to accept it like a mother accepting an unfortunate but necessary treatment for her son. Such a caring daughter Ursula birthed. So different from his siblings and their own offspring.
“And the stone?” she asks.
“To tide him over,” he offers by way of explanation. And it’s the truth, in a way, as well as a promise that no one else will have any part of the young fae while he has his god’s ember, a piece of his power, inside him.
Call him selfish, call him a devil. He is what he is. But he is a god and he is as fair as he can be all things considered. He’d say he’s even more fair than most of the deals his niece has made, not to mention his great niece.
The boy, the fae, Harry, is Hades’ to gain what amount of power and fire he’s lost that he can, that he’s due. Meanwhile, the teen gets the benefit of better control of his faculties and less chances of contracting a sexually transmitted disease, for gone will be the uncontrollable lust for death and other warm bodies besides his rightful god, Hades.
As it should be.