I've actually never written a/b/o before, let's go. Thanks to the person who made this a reality. You know who you are. CW: Intersex genitalia for Zhongli. Male and female terms. A/B/O Dynamics, knotting, size difference. It's filthy but very soft.\
It's one of the best sights Barbatos has ever seen.
He'll never get tired of it, the way that Morax lays before him, gasping with want. That prim and proper exterior he so carefully crafts, that martial and feral way that he commands power at his gold and black fingertips- all stripped away as he begs over and over for more and more.
Barbatos has had his fill of plenty omegas through the years, but he always comes back to Morax. And it isn't love , or whatever contrived things that he often sings about within his bard's tales; it's a matter of comfort.
Morax is an old friend, a comrade, a companion at arms. They've been together through wartime, so it makes sense to spend the peaceful months together as well.
It also helps that he's breathtakingly beautiful like this, glowing with a debauched haze. Eyes half-lidded, like golden cor lapis. The furred antlers on his head, and the way that his tail whips around as he keens under Barbatos's touch. How his claws shred at the blankets when they curl into them tightly.
"So wet for me," murmurs Barbatos, looking down to where he has two fingers buried straight into Morax's cunt. His folds glisten, drenching his palm. Morax's cock is small, but no less hardened, tapered at the end and bobbing slightly as he works his hips.
"More," says Morax with a begging gasp.
"So impatient," says Barbato in a teasing chirp. "I'll give you want, but first-" He twisted his fingers as he thrusts them in and out, feeling the way that Morax clenches tightly around them. Then a third finger finds his entrance, hesitating. "I wonder… perhaps another?"
"Barbatos."
Barbatos ignores him, as he often does. Morax loves whatever he does to him, even with his protests. Their only goal is to be satisfied, to rid themselves of the anger and annoyance that seems to build up and breed. All they want to do is let it all loose in the most feral of ways.
And so, that's the rub of it, the contract that they've so carefully cultivated over the centuries.
Morax is a man uninterested in relationships, but he's also an omega bound by his biology. The War was so long ago, but the memory is still fresh; Morax refuses to let go of himself so completely for fear of being taken advantage of.
And so, Barbatos, his old friend, who too relishes in the freedom of not being tied down to another, comes to the rescue time and time again, pleasing Morax as only an Alpha can do.
Barbatos laughs at the thought, at the clever little pun.
"Are you drunk?" asks Morax with an annoyed grunt.
"Only at the sight of you," says Barbatos, a smirk of a smile spread wide across his face. He doesn't need to be drinking to enjoy such a marvelous joining. "And the smell of you- Gods." Barbatos leans over to press his nose into Morax's neck, breathing in sage and earth and power. "You smell divine."
Which he is. Divine, thinks Barbatos. The both of them, really, if he were to be technical about things. Barbatos's thick cock hangs heavy between his small thighs, already hard and aching, dripping precome everywhere. He can't wait to sink into that familiar tight, pink heat.
"Look at you," he says, pulling his hand from where it's buried and dragging it down Morax's front instead. Morax whines at the loss, wiggling his hips impatiently. Barbatos's fingers find a nipple, circling around it gently, enjoying how it's swelled in pleasure. "So responsive."
"You're too slow," says Morax.
"And you're too mouthy," says Barbatos. "Have you truly forgotten your place?" He doesn't mean it cruelly, there's just an order to these things. He takes Morax's chin in hand, his thumb smoothing along the sharp jawline there.
Morax has a distinct look, one atypical of an omega. Tall and lithe, muscular across his shoulders, and commanding in his stance. Barbatos is typically what others think of instead; small and wispy, with dainty hands.
But, oh, how they are wrong, Barbatos thinks, smiling something that most would think is sweet. Morax knows better, he can tell; Barbatos sees it on his face as his mouth twists to the side.
"Which is?" asks Barbatos, holding Morax by the face gently like he's a treasure.
"An omega," he says immediately. Barbatos's grip tightens slightly. Not enough to hurt, but enough to show impatience, to show that he's waiting for more. Morax swallows, finishing with, "Your omega."
They don't really belong to each other in a traditional sense, but it makes for a nice little game that satisfies that roaring instinct that settles deep in his bones. Morax too, who trusts him enough to dissolve into nothing but a weeping, sobbing mess.
"Good boy," says Barbatos, sinking two of his fingers into Morax's mouth. Morax swallows them up eagerly, his tongue swirling around the digits as he moans.
It's pure pleasure that pools in Barbatos's gut at the sight of Morax below his smaller frame. The way that his legs are spread wide, long over the sheets, such a contrast to the form Barbatos chooses.
"Do you deserve a reward?" he muses with a cheeky little grin, his spare hand smoothing over the expanse of Morax's chest, tracing along the hard lines of smooth muscle, pinching at his side.
The answer is yes, he thinks as he pulls his fingers from Morax's mouth. He's always so good for him, so pleasing in how he responds so well. Barbatos noses down the length of his sternum, biting at Morax's skin along the way.
His cock is pleasing, small and strained, dragon-like with its little ridges and slick head. Barbatos licks at the tip, his hand wrapping around the rest to give it a small tug. Morax arches eagerly, hips lifting off of the bed as he moans.
He tastes good, he always tastes good. Precome that's slightly sweet mixed with the saltiness of his sweaty skin. Barbatos swallows him down, his tongue pressing along the underside of his cock. Holds Morax's hips firm to keep him from bucking into his mouth.
Barbatos will allow much, but ultimately, expects submission.
And submit, Morax does. He falls limp against the bed, harsh cries loosing from his mouth as Barbatos works at his cock. Up and down, tonguing at the slit. Soaking up and swallowing down the taste and the smell of his omega, who responds so fucking eagerly.
Barbatos's hand leaves Morax's cock to find his cunt instead, fingers sliding through the wet folds. Slick dribbles everywhere- all over his hand, the sheets, Morax's thighs. He glistens in the low candlelight of the small room, and Barbatos all but drowns in the musk of it.
He needs a taste, has to have one. So he pulls off Morax's cock and licks up his folds instead. Uses his hands to part them as his tongue dips inside for a proper sample. A finger slips in beside it to tease at his walls.
Morax keens, his loud moan echoing off the walls. These are the sounds Barbatos wants to pull from him, he wants to drain him practically dry. Morax is so wet and slick that he wonders if he could drown in his taste, in his smell and the feel of him.
He isn't even stuffed full yet; they haven't even gotten to the good part, the one that satiates their most primal instincts.
Barbatos adds a second finger and curls them. His tongue swirls around the base of Morax's cock, licking along the creased skin there. Morax gasps and ruts against him, demanding that his fingers slip deeper and deeper.
"Barbatos," he murmurs, his voice choked.
It isn't enough, he thinks. Barbatos wants more, wants to wring him dry. "You're nearly there," he whispers against his skin before diving back against Morax's cunt. His fingers pump in and out, his tongue alongside them. "I want to see it, I want to taste you."
Wants to see Morax come on just his fingers, and then later, his cock. Either way, they both get what they want. Barbatos is drunk on the energy in the room and the way that it settles around them. Morax moves a hand to his head, claws gripping at Barbatos's hair tightly as he rides his mouth, desperate for his tongue and fingers to work their magic.
And Barbatos does, his fingers pressing in harshly as he practically sings against him.
When Morax comes, it's like a flood, slick everywhere and all over Barbatos's fingers and mouth, and Morax's stomach covered in thin, white come from his cock. Barbatos laps it all up eagerly, savoring the taste and the way that Morax clenches tight around his fingers. The cry that he makes as he tips over the edge, hips stuttering as he rides out the high of his orgasm.
Delicious, thinks Barbatos. Utterly divine and so, so fucking good for him. He removes his fingers and takes a look. Drinks up the sight of Morax's spent length, his swollen folds, and how he looks like he's just begging to be filled with a cock instead.
Barbatos leans back, wiping at his mouth. Normally, he's impatient. Normally, he'd immediately settle between Morax's legs and sink right in but-
He's in a teasing mood, and he wants to see Morax crumble.
"Morax," says Barbatos, a sweet lilt to his tone of his, the one that matches his looks. But the way that he grasps at Morax's chin is anything but- his fingers hold him firmly as they tip his face southwards to look at where his heavy cock hangs, hard and leaking.
"Barbatos," says Morax in a low, husky tenor. Barbatos has been a patient alpha and it's time to be attended to. Morax scrambles, his instincts wanting to please, fingers digging into the meat of Barbatos's thighs.
"What a sight," he says, running a hand through the silken strands of Morax's geo-tipped hair. Morax is larger than him in just about every way, except for this, and Barbatos preens, satisfied to watch him take his place at his feet. His cock looks massive next to Morax's face, red-tipped and painfully hard.
Morax stares at it like he's starving. Wastes no time taking him into hand, nuzzling along the length of his cock. Barbatos sighs as Morax's tongue sneaks out to lick a stripe across it, humming with contentment once he finally gets a taste.
Perfect, thinks Barbatos, his fingers scratching along the omega's scalp before running over Morax's horns. The fur is soft and downy under the pads of his fingers, almost like velvet, and Morax moans, eyes slipping closed at the sensation.
"Back to it," says Barbatos, chipper. His free hand grabs him by the chin once more, a thumb sneaking its way between Morax's lips. His tongue's a devilish thing, just like the dragon it belongs to, swirling around his skin and sucking the digit into his mouth. "Not what I meant."
Morax huffs, but lets go anyway, tucking his nose back against Barbatos's neglected cock before pressing a kiss to the tip. "So patient," he says against his dick, words dripping like honeyed wine. "A good and patient alpha, giving me what I want."
"But have I?" asks Barbatos.
Morax looks at him then, eyes shining gold like the sunset. Then, he gives him a dangerous smile before swallowing his cock down whole. Whatever retort Barbatos planned was gone, and he moans instead, giving into the soft, wet warmth of Morax's mouth.
Barbatos is short and slight in his stature, which only makes the scene more indecent. Morax's mouth is stretched wide around his cock, and he hums around him, content with his show of skill.
And skill he has, centuries of perfected cocksucking, only to be used here. Barbatos can't help it, the way that he immediately bucks into Morax's mouth, hands curled tightly around his horns. Morax sucks at him, licks at him, suckles the crown of his dick. Cradles and fondles his balls, heavy with his seed and waiting to be used.
"You would love this," says Barbatos, teasing. "Attending to me. Tell me, what would the others think? How their beloved Archon kneels before a sprite such as myself?"
Morax pulls off, huffing a laugh. "You're an Archon as well," he says, kissing the reminder into the underside of his cock.
Obviously, but it's all bedroom talk at the end of the day. Barbatos's fingers tighten in Morax's hair, pulling at it slightly. "Talking back?"
"Never," says Morax before swallowing him down, this time as deep as he can. Barbatos hits the back of his throat, and this time he's the one who's barely hanging on by a thread.
"Morax," he says, grinding against his mouth, and Morax whines in response, doing his best to just accept it. And he does- he does so well. "So good to me," says Barbatos, smoothing a hand through his bangs, praising him earning a rumbling purr in response.
Then, he pulls out of his mouth, running a thumb across Morax's split-slick and swollen lips.
"Barbatos, please," says Morax in a soft sob as he paws at his leg. His hand is so large compared to his thigh, his fingers so long. It's more than pleasing to Barbatos to have him at his whim, a satisfying thing that settles deep in his chest.
"Alpha, please," says Morax again, trying a different tactic as he turns over to properly present himself. His folds are wet and swollen, his tail twitching and whipping around impatiently.
Who could deny him? Barbatos's hand smooths down the long expanse of Morax's tale, rubbing over the shining scales. Then, he finds Morax's generous ass, squeezing the muscle there. Watches the way that his slit drips slick, how his cock stirs, half-hard and on its way to being a nuisance once more.
"What a good boy," says Barbatos, kneeling closer, rubbing his aching cock against Morax's folds.
The slide is so easy, with how wet Morax's cunt is. Barbatos's cock is all but sucked down, feeling like he can sink in forever. Morax takes him so well, his hole spread around him, the way that his back trembles as he tries to hold himself up on his elbows.
"Gods," says Barbatos, his hand settling over the small of Morax's back, scratching at the skin there. "Always worth the wait."
He sets a satisfying pace, pulling out and thrusting back in almost leisurely. Not the fast fucking Morax no doubt expects or wishes for. Only a matter of time, though, until his alpha takes over and ruts into Morax hard and breaking. For now, Barbatos likes this, the gentle thrusts and tight grip around his cock.
"I wonder who else wishes for this. Surely others do; they know what you are."
"Barbatos," says Morax into the sheets, gripping at them tight, wriggling his hips to spur his motions faster.
Barbatos doesn't give in to his begging, hands finding Morax's asscheeks instead and spreading them for a better view. His cock sinks deep into his cunt, over and over, and Barbatos can feel the flush of his own face as he watches. What exhilaration.
"They'd never expect it to be me who gets to see you like this," he murmurs. "Little 'ole me, the lonesome bard, drunk on the mere sight of you. But you're all mine, aren't you?"
"Yes," says Morax, pressing back against him, meeting his thrusts. "Yes- Alpha-"
Barbatos feels the roar in his chest, that ancient tug deep in his core, so satisfied by the word. The title. The way that his omega slicks up more and more every time he utters it.
"What a perfect omega," says Barbatos, leaning closer and changing the angle and speed of his thrusts. This time faster and deeper, and Morax cries out in response, tightening up just the way he loves. "And only for me," he says into his ear, licking across the shell of it.
Morax whines, grinding his ass back, taking as much of his cock as possible. "So full," he murmurs in a debauched haze, eyes half-lidded and hazy, face turned in the sheets. "So, so full-"
"Want me to come in you?" Barbatos asks, even though he already knows the answer. This isn't a heat or rut, there isn't much of a risk, so as always, he'll spend himself deep within Morax's cunt.
Still, Barbatos loves to hear it, the soft desperation as Morax begs for it. And he does, harsh whispers of Barbatos's name, begging to be filled, his voice cracking once Barbatos reaches around to stroke at his small cock.
"Want my knot?" he asks, and Morax moans, pleading into the sheets, his words barely intelligible as he ruts back against him.
Barbatos is close enough, he can feel the pleasure that expands in his belly, the way that his knot swells and starts to catch. Morax is leaking tears into the sheets and his hands glow bright gold as he does his best to hang on and ride it out.
He comes first, spilling all over Barbatos's hand with a curse on his lips. Barbatos can't think of anyone else he'd rather share this with. He lets go and pulls back, fucking into his omega properly with long and hard thrusts.
It isn't the easiest; Morax's legs are a little too long and Barbatos a little too short, but they make it work. Morax shakes, overstimulated, moaning wild with abandon and begging for his knot over and over.
Barbatos isn't one to disappoint, least of all this perfect creature below him. With one last thrust, his knot slips into place, locked deep into Morax's cunt as he spends himself into the silken warmth.
Morax is breathing heavily, keening softly, rubbing his face into the sheets as he comes again, this time dry, while grinding back onto Barbatos's knot. Barbatos is sated, his chest rumbling with satisfaction, his inner alpha calming ever so slightly.
Fuck, what he'd give to share a heat; a proper one where he'd breed Morax full and round children. It's only a momentary thought, though, a blissed-out one as Barbatos comes down from his high, aching and sore.
They fall on their sides, Barbatos still buried deep. Morax purrs softly, eyes slipping closed in the comfort of it all. Barbatos pulls him closer, curling around him like a small little spoon. He noses at Morax's scent gland, but does nothing more.
Despite the instinctual urges they share in these intimate moments- that's all they are. Morax has no want for a permanent partner and Barbatos's only mate is the wind itself. Both prefer their freedom just as their contract states.
Still. Morax's scent is calm and satiated, and Barbatos relishes it all the same. Loves how compliant he is in the aftermath of their fucking, soft and gentle. Morax paints a far different picture while out in the field, around everyone else.
"I'm sorry," murmurs Morax softly. For calling him there, he means. He's usually the one who gets needy first.
"Shh," says Barbatos, pecking a kiss just below his ear. "I needed it too. Even the spooniest of bards get frisky from time to time."
Morax chuckles, a deep rumble from the back of his throat. Friends with benefits, companions in kind- Barbatos doesn't really care what it's called.
The War's over and the world's recovering, and he's glad to have some sort of respite in the aftermath of it all. Freedom is hard-won and hard-earned, Morax is the one who helps him remember that.