Reward for my Honorary Sibling Patron!

Hawks/Endeavor – A/B/O; pregnant Endeavor; pregnant sex; Hawks is not the father – Endeavor wants to fuck and he doesn't give a damn if he's in labor or not.

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Endeavor must have been able to smell Hawks’ desperate erection because he is suitably sure the guy could not have seen his rock hard cock in the baggy pants he is wearing.

In any case, he finds himself pulled into an alley by a huge hand on the back of his neck, thick fingers curled around it and pressing into his throat. If Endeavor wanted, he could pop Hawks’ head like a cherry with one hand – and at this point Hawks would say please and thank you like a good Kindergarten kid.

Endeavor slams him into a wall, his flames spluttering in and out of existence. He looks angry enough to have an aneurysm, but he’s not killing Hawks – despite him staring straight at that huge belly the Omega is sporting these days; large and round and stretching the pregnancy hero costume seemingly to its limits. Everything on Endeavor is larger than life. It would only make sense that his pregnant stomach is, too.

Hawks wouldn’t be surprised to know that there are at least triplets in there. As an Alpha, he supposes it should make him aggressive to see this blatant way some other stud has staked his claim on Endeavor, but it only makes him really really horny.

He kind of wants to ask that guy to go out with him for some drinks. Someone that manages to mount this wall of an Omega and put some puppies into him without pissing himself in abject fear sounds like they could be a real riot.

“Hey big guy,” he croons, patting the thick wrist of the hand still curled around his throat and keeping him pressed against the wall. “Everything alright? Ya should calm down a little. Think of the pups, huh?”

Endeavor growls deep and throaty. Better than a good few Alphas Hawks knows.

“Shut up and mount me.”

Endeavor’s hand falls back and in the ensuing rush of oxygen suddenly hitting his brain, Hawks is sure he must have misheard, but-

Endeavor is turning around and reaching back, thick sausage fingers hooking into a rip in the fabric of his hero suit (courtesy of the villain they just fought) and pulls it open until Hawks can see the magic that is a pregnant Omega’s hole. An Omega so ripe for the birthing that it is obscenely swollen and wet looking. The pups could come any day now. Any minute; and Endeavor smells the part.

He leans forward, bracing himself against the alley wall.

“Go on!” he grunts.

Hawks has swallowed his tongue. He can’t say a single word as he stares, fascinated and feeling weirdly young and inexperienced in the face of a larger than life Omega like Endeavor offering him his ripe cunt.

Hawks stumbles closer. He grips Endeavor’s sturdy hips and rubs them up and down.

“You sure?” he croaks; none of the usual smartassery wanting to come out, it seems.

Endeavor growls, but there is some kind of whine mixed in there, too.

“Got cramps,” he says finally, his flanks quivering as if on command. Hawks can feel it against his fingertips. “Just do it.”

He gets his cock out, heart racing. Until now he had thought if he ever got the opportunity to rail Endeavor, he’d give it to him like a stud; rail him and make him say please and thank you.

Instead, he has to bite his tongue fiercely so he wouldn’t shoot his load before he could do anything more but to push the tip into the swollen, suckling mouth of a hole.

He slides in without a hitch. Endeavor is so tall he has to go up on his tip-toes to properly reach. Hawks feels like a terrier trying to fuck a doberman. Endeavor’s head sinks low, he groans softly, fingertips pressing harder into the mortar between the bricks of the wall.

Hawks clenches his eyes shut, breathing sharp through his teeth, hips moving, rocking, slowly starting up some kind of rhythm that won’t have him come too fast – all the while Endeavor makes the sweetest sounds; low pitched and appreciative…

Until their cadence… changes. Endeavor’s back stiffens. There is squelch and a deluge of slick dripping past Hawks’ cock. For one glorious, mind-numbing moment he thinks he has already made the ripe, pregnant Omega come – until Endeavor grunts: “They’re coming.”

Panic surges through Hawks, cock flexing something fierce inside the fever hot passage that is clenching down on him in an iron grip. Endeavor’s sides ripple again.

Contractions, Hawks’ dumb brain supplies. He tries to pull back, but… Endeavor’s big hands are gripping him and not letting him go.

“More,” the Omega pants. His head is hanging low, tongue lolling out of his skull. He even lowers himself just a little to make the mounting easier on Hawks now that he can feel his pups starting to move inside his belly and slowly starting to line themselves up to slide down the aching passage Hawks is occupying right now.

“Oh fuck… oh shit,” Hawks babbles, brain feeling too hot and swollen for his skull. Everything in him is screaming not to do it, but… does he have an option when Endeavor is grabbing at him like that and not letting him pull out?

His body thinks no apparently. He starts to rut before properly understanding what is happening.

He’s fucking a pregnant Omega that is about to give birth. He’s not even the goddamn father of those pups!

But Endeavor sounds like he is having the time of his goddamn life, grunting and howling like a beast, his body bearing down on Hawks… or maybe on those puppies, trying to squeeze them out?

Hawks crumples forward when he comes, a broken whine skittering from him; bolts of heat and cold zipping through his body as he creams Endeavor’s passage and adds to the slick that’ll help the pups to slip out.

Horrible. Horrible.

He is damaged for life. He doesn’t think he’ll ever be able to get it up again, let alone come without thinking about this moment. The moment he got to fuck a heavily pregnant Endeavor into labor.