In Plain Sight - AU - Locked to seaweed_writes

[ihadabadday]

No one knew how long Gods had walked among the mortals. They just knew they had. Some remained in their country of origin, some branched out and traveled. Others started business or charities. Some just went through existence simply being. Belief didn't have much to do with how the Gods chose to lead their lives.

This tale though, it focuses on the Greek Gods of old and Mount Olympus (which is a real place and traditionally is where Zeus is said to live with Hera).

John Watson didn't care for the politics of the Gods that surrounded them every day. He had other things to focus on, to pay attention to. Like medical school, and then the military. It wasn't until he was shot and laying in the desert, bleeding, did he whisper things to the God of Death, to Hades. To a god he didn't believe in. Blood whispers they were often called. And gods hardly paid attention to them, most believed they were the whispers of dying men.

But John Watson survived when others with the same injury had died. What was different about him?

He returned to London on an army pension and a cane. He shuffled through his life, a constant ache in his chest, like there was something missing. Though he had little to no idea of what was missing. He helped others where he could, donating his time and what little money. A homeless veteran (it boiled him so to see those who helped their country be left behind) once called him a beacon of light.

A beacon of light huh?

Most days he didn't feel like one. Most days his mood was dark and everything was shit.

One night when he was limping slowly back to his dismal bedsit, something caught his attention. He glanced down an alley and saw a tall man dressed in black, being mugged by some ratty youth. The man was far too posh for this neighborhood. So why was he here? But that didn't matter. John, on two strong legs, charged into the alley and used his cane to knock the criminal away. He didn't notice, but there seemed to be a light around him, an otherworldy aura to him.

He held the cane like a sword and pointed it at the would be thief. "You need to leave here." John commanded. It had been easy for some to forget that he had been Captain John Watson of the Fifth Northumberland Fusiliers in Her Majesty's Army.

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[ihadabadday]

John grunted when he hit the rock, that hand wrapped tight around his throat. He nodded. He wanted it. He had been aching for this. To be Sherlock's again in this way.

He moaned when he felt that hand squeeze his rapidly hardening cock, Fuck. Oh fuck yes! He dropped his head back against the stone.

"Sherlock..." He gasped, "Harder..." It seemed that the masochist still lived in John. That he craved the pain that Sherlock could dish out.

[seaweed_writes]

Sherlock's large hand was enough to go all the way around John's throat. He gripped him tight, rendering John unable to go anywhere.

The other hand on John's crotch gripped harder as well, tugging at the cock that inside the trousers were wearing, none too gently.

He leaned down, biting hard on John's neck like a vampire, leaving two bites that dribbled blood down his neck.

"You want me to take you and stretch you open so far that you scream in pain? fuck you with a cock that doesn't even fit inside? Spill my molten hot come inside of you, burning you from the inside? Is that what you want, my little fuck toy?"

[ihadabadday]

"Oh god." John breathed. He nodded and swallowed. "Please, fuck me. Make me your little fuck toy. That's what I want."

If his heart still beat, it would be beating so fast in his chest. If his lungs still worked, he'd be gasping for air. But it was perfect. It was exactly what he wanted, what he craved.

He was hard, and it felt so... So... Good. Perfect. "Sherlock..." John groaned.

[seaweed_writes]

Sherlock used the hand that was around John's neck and twisted him around so that the side of John's face was against the stone now.

His other hand was free now, so he used them to remove John's clothing. John's arse was on display in front of Sherlock now, ready for him to plunder.

Sherlock let his fingers burn into John's skin- he could control the amount of heat that he radiated, and he had turned it down, but now he let his fingers flame and spark, making John's neck red and blistered.

He bit at John's neck, leaving bloody marks down the back of his neck and from shoulder to shoulder.

"I am going to fill you full, and then I am going to plug you up, one that you can't remove this time, you will have to keep it in as long as I want. I will fill you over and over again until you can't stand, and I won't let you have you have your release."

[ihadabadday]

John sobbed as he felt the pain radiate through him. It was... It was yes. Wonderful amazing. The pain, the sensations of Sherlock forcing him. He loved it.

"Oh please. Please. I want it all." John gasped, "Any way you want to give it to me. Small or big, monster or human. Anything..."

He was rambling and he knew it. He knew he was. But the pleasure going through him was so much. It was incredible.

[seaweed_writes]

Usually, Sherlock tried to stay in his semi-human form when he was around John, It really took very little for him to keep the other shape.

But when John said that, he went to his normal form, 9 feet tall, long, lithe, and clawed.

"As you wish." He growled evilly.

He took himself in hand, long and teased John's entrance, almost pressing in, then pulling away. He hadn't prepped or stretched John the first time, and he wasn't about to this time.

[ihadabadday]

Sherlock's normal form was so large compared to him. That cock was equally as large. He hiccuped and squirmed back. That was huge... It was...

He knew it was going to hurt, it was going to tear him open, pry him apart. And he wanted it. He wanted it all.

John let out a breath and tried to grip at the wall, to get some leverage. But it was... It was so smooth, he wasn't able to get purchase.

[seaweed_writes]

Sherlock smiled evilly when he heard him hiccup and watched him squirm. Maybe he was starting to doubt himself now.
But it was too late now.

Sherlock played with John's hole a few more times, then the pushed in, hard and fast, opening John up, stretching him past his normal limits. Sherlock didn't let him rest, as soon as he was inside he started at a blistering pace, slamming John up against the stone with every push inside of his willing victim.

[ihadabadday]

John screamed as he was taken, hard. It hurt, but he was enjoying it. Reveling in the pain that was coming from the god above him. He swore and tried to find purchase, to try and get some relief. He wanted... He wanted to get his release with that monster cock inside him.

He was being ravaged by a monster, the creature that might haunt people's dreams at night. And he had begged for it, goaded Sherlock into giving it to him. He moaned.

[seaweed_writes]

Oh, Sherlock was going to give him no mercy, no quarter, no relief or release. He was his little play thing. He had asked for it, begged, and so he got it.

He decided to up the ante, one wave of his hand and his cock was barbed, like an animal, every scrape in and out tore against his insides. His hand stayed on the man's neck, and his teeth bit down on his neck, draining the man of the blood that he had remaining, not that he really needed it any more though.

Sherlock growled, this was his prize, this mewling, whimpering thing under him that he could do anything with, tear apart and put back together over and over and over again.

[ihadabadday]

John felt like he was floating, soaring. This was so much and yet he ached for more. He wasn't sure how that would be possible. Oh god. He cried out, unable to stop it.

The pain of that barbed cock in him. He shuddered. If he was mortal, it would have killed him. He would have died and he didn't think Sherlock would have stopped for that.

"Sherlock..." He gasped, sounding so needy. "Sherlock please...." He didn't want the man to stop. No. He wanted it to continue.

[seaweed_writes]

It was hard to tell is John was begging for him to stop, or begging him for more.

Of course, it really didn't matter either way. it wasn't like Sherlock was going to stop anyways.

Sherlock only got harder and faster, chasing the need to fill this man with himself.

"Ahhhhhhhhhh!!" He cried out as he used all of his weight to slam John against the wall. His cock swelled, and steaming hot spurt of his come filled the demigod. He didn't stop, thrusting with each pulse.

Even when he was done, his cock was still hard inside of John. Sherlock leaned back for a moment to enjoy his handiwork, then started to thrust again, swelling his cock more, so that nothing would come out.

[ihadabadday]

John was hard and he was so close. He ached for his release, but he suspected that it might not come. He shuddered and pushed back. More. He sobbed a bit.

"You're not deep enough. Please. I want you deep enough it feels like I'll never be clean of your seed."

John wasn't entirely sure what he was begging for. But he wanted to be coated inside and out with Sherlock. Marked.

[seaweed_writes]

The man really didn't know when to quit, did he? Well, if that was what he wanted...
Sherlock slammed him against the wall again, he didn't want the man to come, so with a movement of his hand he made the wall swallow up his cock so that he couldn't move it or do anything with it.

With John taken care of, another shake of his fingers and he grew, half again as long as he had been before- this was well beyond what any normal human would be able to take.

He buggered John with no remorse, long and thick and barbed, one hand crushed his windpipe, the other raked his razor sharp claws down the man's back. He still bore some soft scars from years before, and he opened the skin again, moving through to muscle and bone.

[ihadabadday]

Another scream ripped from John. The pain, the pleasure. He was teetering on the edge, even with the pressure against his cock.

He could feel his magic racing to heal, to repair. But it was overridden by the sheer pleasure. By Sherlock ravaging him.

His mind played imagines as he was ruthlessly fucked. Sherlock keeping him chained and stuffed full, Sherlock using shadows to stuff his holes full, making him wither and trash. He wanted it all. Every depraved thought. His mind played to some of the odd porn old platoon mates had showed him for a lark.

[seaweed_writes]

It took less time the second time for Sherlock to come again. adding to the heat that was already inside of John. It was just as intense, he growled and roared enough that stones loosened themselves from the ceiling and fell on top of them.

Even after the second time, Sherlock still was still hard inside of John, his cock surrounded by his still hot essence.

Sherlock could do this all day, fucking him until the end of the world. He would never tire, he would never run out of semen to fill John, he would never grow tired of the screams that he wrenched from the man's lips.

[ihadabadday]

John couldn't help it as his body went lax, the need to heal and restore overwhelming.

He was now a perfect doll for Sherlock to do with as he pleased.

[seaweed_writes]

"Ah.. FINALLY." Sherlock growled. He had been trying to break John, to finally get him to the point where he couldn't take any more.

And now, he finally had what he wanted, and he was going to as much advantage of the man as he could.

Sherlock was relentless. He used his claws to hold the limp John up while he fucked the man three more times, coming deep and hard each time, adding to what was inside, there was enough that even around Sherlock's thick cock that was pretty much a plug, there was still some that was leaking out of the hole, there was just no more space inside.

When Sherlock finally decided that he had had enough with the ragdoll that was under him, he once again created a larger, spiked plug out of stone. He had stretched the man wider than before, and the plug was actually thicker than Sherlock was, to make sure not a single drop was lost.

He shoved it in hard, then imbued it with magic, if John touched it with his hand, it would electrocute him. It would be impossible for him to remove it until Sherlock was ready for it to be removed.

When Sherlock was done, he let go of John, and let the stone stop holding him up by the cock, letting him crumple to the ground. He gave the pile of John a little kick, not too hard, but enough to move him a bit.

"Remember. You asked for it." He said, and walked away, back to the throne, still naked, hard, and dripping.

[ihadabadday]

When John finally woke, he was surprised to find himself on his bed. He sat up, surprisingly not in pain. It seemed that he had been out long enough for his injuries to heal.

He looked down at himself and started. His stomach was distended, giving his body the look of being pregnant. How much had Sherlock come inside him?

John got off the bed and went to go shower, wanting to ease the aches in his body.

[seaweed_writes]

Sherlock had done nothing to help John heal over the almost week that he was out, healing. But he had kept an eye on him once in a while to make sure that he was going to survive.

When it had been clear that he was healing after the first couple of days, he mostly avoided the sleeping John.

He would never admit to the slight sigh of relief when he heard the man get up and get into the shower.

Sherlock pretended not to be arsed about it, and stayed busy ferrying souls, waggling his finger in a lazt, bored way while slumped down in his throne.

[ihadabadday]

He rested his head against the cool stone, letting out a breath. He would have to have a few ground rules laid down. None of this close to when he had to leave for the Overworld. And the plug couldn't be left in. Not while he was in the Overworld, because there he had to pretend to be human, in fact his body nearly reverted to human.

He stepped out of the shower and dried himself off. He dressed and padded out into the throne room. "Bored?" He asked of Sherlock.

He moved over to where the man sat and looked at him for a moment. He didn't say anything before nodding and then stepping back. Of course. He was only good for sex once in a while.

[seaweed_writes]

Everything about Sherlock said 'bored'. The way he was slumped in the chair, one leg hapharadrly thrown over the arm rest, the way the was idly twiddling his fingers but not really paying attention, his half lidded eyes

But he say up and looked at John when he came in. He licked his lips, loving the way he looked all distended, and he knew exactly why.

"The job can be... tedious when there isn't something exciting like a plane crash or an earthquake or something else that brings in mass casualties." He offhandedly remarked.

[ihadabadday]

John let out a breath and swallowed. He moved, stepping over to Sherlock again. He reached out and touched the man, god's, cheek. He trailed his fingers down, feeling the cool skin.

"When I return to the Overworld for the next winter, I ask that you remove the plug for that." He told the other, "It would look a bit odd if I returned looking like this."

[seaweed_writes]

Sherlock hadn't exactly planned on how long he was going to make John wear the plug. He hadn't really intended for it to be until next winter, almost 9 months away. If he did that, then he wouldn't get to fuck him between now and then. And while he had waited years between the first and second, now that he knew he could get it more, he didn't intend to wait that long again.

But perhaps he would have to.

Sherlock found himself leaning into the touch- it was gentle, almost lover like. But they weren't lovers. They weren't friends. He wasn't sure what they were. 'Fuck buddies' was a term the mortals in the Overworld used. That might have been the closest term he could think of.

He didn't really respond, only giving him a half-hearted nod. His brain was alight with thoughts. Who was this former John Watson to him, anyways? What did John want them to be? Despite everything, here he is, being almost tender to him.

He had never gotten that before, he had no idea how to react.

[ihadabadday]

John settled for a brief kiss to Sherlock's lips before he slipped away and retreated back to his room.

He had meant that if they had sex between now and when he returned to the Overworld, the plug would not be present when he left for it. But who knew what would happen between now and then.

He settled into a large, plush chair to start a book he had brought back with him.