SkelligMP
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“Potter. Move,” Draco demanded, peering up at him through his lashes, a scowl on his pretty pink lips, while a slim hand reached up to push at Harry's chest.
That didn’t budge and truly it never failed to amuse Harry how much weaker omegas were, despite how the wizarding world seemed to view them as strong. Which they surely were with a wand, but without one, they were vulnerable.
Uncle Vernon seemed to be right more often than not when it came to omegas.
“Come on, give me a smile,” Harry teased, lips quirking at the particularly acidic look that Draco shot him.
“Move.”
“I think that I'm comfortable here, thanks,” he chuckled, reaching to tuck a lock of Draco’s hair behind his ear. “Let me take you out.”
In a world where Muggles view omegas as less than and the wizarding world cherishes them… Harry takes after Vernon in the worst of ways.
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Harry is a very feared and respected alpha and the head of Potter Corp.
His eyes are deep and green, his jaw is defined, and he has a cold look that intimidates everyone, except his omega, Draco. He is the joy of the company.
Harry is a dominant alpha, who has never obeyed anyone's orders.
Except, Draco needs Harry to go to the store for tampons.Series
- Part 1 of Tampons for Draco
- Language:
- English
- Words:
- 3,354
- Chapters:
- 5/5
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- 1
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- 9
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- 1,086
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Bookmarked by SkelligMP
17 Dec 2025
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“What? Harry, you do realize what you just told me, no?” Hermione gapes.
“Wha-”
“Harry. These symptoms are that of a… a..” Hermione gnaws on her bottom lip. “Werewolf, Harry.”
or
Harry Potter nearly risks his life on an auror mission. He recovers just fine, and attempts to ignore the sudden emergence of his apparent werewolf identity and Draco Malfoy's presence in his life.
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Since Harry presented as an Alpha, Draco can’t keep his eyes off of him. He wonders for how long he can keep the fact that he's an omega a secret, if he gets into another heat.
When that heat comes, he can't stop himself from begging Harry for his seed.
Harry gladly accepts.
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“Once a Death Eater,” Harry said, voice eerily void of warmth, “always a Death Eater.”
Draco flinched as if he’d been slapped. “No—Harry, no! Don’t do this. Please, I—I love you. You know I do.”
He crawled to him across the lumpy mattress, the blanket falling around his waist, exposing bruised skin, bleeding bite marks and trembling shoulders. He grabbed at Harry’s wrist with both hands, desperate, terrified, clinging to the only thing that still tethered him to reality.
Harry looked down at him.
No softness.
No recognition.
Just disgust.
“I want nothing to do with you anymore.”