Archive of Our Own ^beta

Pick up the cloth, spread it out, roll it tight, tie the ends. Pick up, spread out, roll tight, tie. Pick, spread, roll tie. The movements were hypnotising to watch, Anders’ hands moving deftly as they repeated the rotation over and over. What he was doing was simple and efficient, if not also hygienic; he cleaned the bandages, put them in a basket, carried them over to his desk and went about rolling them up so that he could put them back on his shelves, ready for the next patient that came through the clinic’s doors. It was calming, however, to watch him work, doing the same thing over and over again, his brow furrowed in concentration and his tongue poking out of the side of his mouth.

Fenris really didn’t know what he was doing there, watching the omega healer work. There was no rhyme or reason to it; he was doing nothing exciting, saving no lives, nor was he planning the deaths of several Templars from the Gallows. He was simply rolling up bandages. He didn’t even have reason to be suspicious of what he was doing, as the doors were wide open, allowing anyone to walk inside. Besides that, there were several workers around the clinic, helping him clean up.

Several alpha workers.

A vein throbbed in Fenris’ head.

His… Infatuation with the mage was ridiculous. He was an abomination. He’d willing let a demon into his body, knowing exactly what the consequences were. He denied being a magister, and yet he happily used the demon’s powers to fuel his own magic – though he may not have used blood magic, there was very little difference between the two. Furthermore, he hated Fenris. He tore down every argument he made, blinded by the demon inside him, and refused to believe that mages belonged in the Circles, where they could hurt no one and could protect themselves.

The damned mage made his blood boil like no other being could – and perhaps that was why Fenris was so taken with him. An omega, willing to stand up for himself, who refused to roll over for any old alpha, and who made Fenris feel alive. Fenris wanted to break him. Not brutally, not as his Master had – the disgusting magister had thought it fun to force himself on another alpha, to make one so proud become his very own bitch – but to make him soft, sweet. He wanted to watch the mage walk around with bare feet, complacent, stroking the swell of his stomach filled with Fenris’ pups.

Fenris shook his head furiously. No. He would not think of the abomination as his omega. He could not. When the mage finally lost control of himself to the demon within him, Fenris had to be ready to strike him down, without fail. He could not let such a creature loose on the world. He could not let Anders ruin himself like that.

“Stop it you fool,” Fenris snarled at himself, putting a stop to his own thoughts. It would prove fatal to see the mage as human. It would make him let his guard down, and that would be the perfect time for the abomination to strike. No, he had to be on guard, he had to be prepared, always vigilant-

“You know, if you keep glaring at the floor your face will freeze that way when the wind changes direction.”

Anders’ mocking voice jolted Fenris from his thoughts, a shamed flush spreading across his cheeks. He’d let the mage walk right up to him, with his staff in hand, tapping one foot expectantly on the ground. Fenris growled, forcing the flush from his cheeks.

“According to Varric, that would make little difference.”

Anders snorted, rolling his eyes as he turned to shout something to one of his alpha workers. Fenris took the time to cautiously sniff the mage. In all honesty, he stuck to the BlackCity and back. A day’s work in Darktown, surrounded by the sick and the wounded, in a cramped clinic with very little ventilation tended to make a man smell ripe before the day was over. Somewhere beneath the sour scent of sweat and bile and Maker knows what else, Fenris could just find the faintest whiff of the omega’s true scent; sweet apples, Andraste’s Grace, and something that smelled slightly of a woman’s expensive perfume.

The minute Fenris realised he was taking far too deep sniffs to find more of that scent, he crinkled his nose in disgust and pulled away, attempting to show distaste. He focused more on the ripeness of the mage’s unwashed body, but even then the scent persisted through. He swallowed thickly, trying to will away the throbbing in his groin. Now was not the time to be popping his knot for the mage – not that there ever was a time to be doing it, but it would be worse now. Much worse.

Eventually, Anders turned back to him with a raised brow, ignoring the workers behind him as they packed up their things for the day and prepared to go home.

“Is there a reason for you to be watching me, or have I been an extra special abomination today? Oh, let me guess, I’ve overstayed my welcome in the fresh air and should be locked back up in the Gallows where I’ll be out to good use as a Templar’s bitch?”

Fenris growled lowly, digging his fingers into his palms. No. No one would be sending Anders – the mage – to the circle to be a playtoy for those men. Anders – the abomination – was his omega. He would not let any filthy, greasy Templar put their lyrium addled hands on his mage!

“Oh shut it, will you?” Anders whacked him on the ankle with the tip of his staff, eyes narrowing at the growling elf. “If you hate my so much I don’t see why you keep coming here. Just go already, will you?”

Fenris’ mouth dropped open, his eyes going wide. The mage had thought he was growling at him? Surely he could not have been so blind? Did he truly think that Fenris would ever want to give away what was his to people so vile?

Fenris wasn’t allowed to form a reply. Anders had already stalked back inside the clinic, slamming the door shut behind him in his rage.  He could hear the mage cursing even from behind the closed doors, and winced. He sounded very angry – furious, in fact, if half of his threats were taken into account. 

He stared at the clinic for a few moments, taking a few long, disappointed sniffs of the air – still filled with Anders’ scent, though it was quickly fading. Eventually, he heaved a heavy sigh and sulked away back towards the elevators out of Darktown.

Why he had thought it would end any differently, he couldn’t understand. But still, the alpha within him snarled, teeth bared at his submissiveness in front of his omega. It was furious with him. He should have taken the chance when it was there, and yet he had not. Just like he had not every other time he had come to the clinic.

Fenris glared at the floor. He would claim his omega. It would simply take time.

Anders looked up at the sound of the clinic doors opening and shutting carefully, followed by the sound of hesitant feet. He was tired, incredibly so, but if it was a patient in need of help then he would always put their needs before his own; Justice may push him hard, but he did ensure the mage could still function until he managed to find the time to sleep.

He stood up slowly, wincing at the cracks in his knees – he’d been kneeling down on the floor for too long again, and he wasn’t getting any younger no matter how much he tried to convince himself otherwise – and brushed off the dust from the bottom of his robes, turning towards the doors with a  smile.

“One second, I’ll be right with- Fenris?” Anders’ soft words were cut off quickly by his started recognition. The alpha, standing tentatively by the clinic doors, was staring steadfastly at the floor, his brows drawn into a hesitant frown. His entire posture screamed uncertainty, and any hate Anders might have felt for the bigot was washed away by concern for the strange behaviour.

He quickly walked over to the tanned elf, stopping a few feet away from him. Carefully, afraid that Fenris might snap out at him, Anders pressed his palm to the alpha’s forehead, gauging the temperature with a frown. He didn’t feel overly hot, but there was a definite blush on his cheeks, and judging by the fact that Fenris wouldn’t even look at him Anders guessed that whatever he had was either very serious or overwhelmingly embarrassing.

“Come on in, Fenris. We’ll get you sitting down, and then we can take a look at what’s wrong with you.”

Fenris’ fingers twitched by his sides, his hands clenching into fists, but he refused to move. A muscle jumped in his jaw, his nostrils flared, but his head remained down, stubbornly ignoring the mage. Anders’ eyes narrowed.

“Fenris, either get in or get out. I can only waste so much time on you when- Oof!”

The air rushed out of Anders’ lungs. Fenris’ arms had shot out before the mage had even seen them move, gripping his shoulders tightly as he thrust himself forwards, pinning Anders against the nearest wall. Anders winced as his head came into contact with the stone behind him, pain sparking in the back of his skull, but any protest that had formed on his tongue was quickly rushed away by the scent of pure alpha.

Anders looked down at Fenris, who was looking pointedly at the mage’s sternum. His breathing was ragged, as if he’d been running for miles, and his lips were pulled back to bare his teeth. He lunged forwards to press his face against Anders’ neck, and the omega flinched in preparation for a bite and the smell of blood. Instead, he felt Fenris sniffing along the column of his throat, growling low in his throat in appreciation.

No… Fenris wasn’t – was he?

Anders hesitantly tipped his head to the side, shivering at the pleased growl Fenris released in response. His heart was fluttering wildly in his chest, fearful of being pinned to a wall by someone who couldn’t have hated him any more if he tried, yet his cock was reacting to the vibrations of Fenris’ throat, thickening in his smallclothes as he whimpered submissively.

“I… Have been under your spell for too long, mage.” Fenris snarled against his throat, feral intent clear in his tone. “You will release me… Or you will submit to me, and only to me.”

Anders’ brow furrowed for a moment, confusion written on his face. There was no spell he knew of that would make an alpha react like Fenris was to an omega. In fact, there was no spell he knew of that could make an alpha act like that at all. Biology was the only thing Anders knew of that would get Fenris so riled up. Biology, and a compatible mate. Which was odd, because the only other person in the room with Fenris was… him.

“Oh.”

“Yes, oh.”

Fenris pulled back from Anders’ throat to glare at him, pupils dilated and nostrils flared. His body was shaking, lips twitching as he tried to pull them back over his teeth, muscles tensed with the effort to hold himself back. Despite himself, Anders could feel himself growing hotter, heat pooling in his abdomen. An alpha was standing in front of him, coming completely undone with his desire. A throb of want pulsed through Anders’ body.

“Yes.”

Fenris stared at him for a long moment, so Anders said it again, louder, his voice trembling with excitement, “Yes.”

He barely had any time to think before he was being thrown on the floor, Fenris snarling possessively above him as he tore off the mage’s robes, want flaming in his eyes. He wasn’t gentle as he stripped Anders, gripping his arms hard and raking his nails down the mage’s chest, but Anders didn’t care. The pain felt good, in a sense. It made his body throb with the desire rushing through his mind, desperate for the alpha pinning him down, want making his limbs tremble. And oh, Maker, did he want it. 

Fenris’ teeth scraped down his throat as he threw away the last of the mage’s clothes, trailing his hands down Ander’s chest and towards his abdomen. He paused to play with the flesh of his stomach, kneading the skin softly, a possessive smile splitting across his face, before he drew his head up to place his lips on Anders’ ear, purring in delight as he gently cupped the flat of the mage’s stomach.

“You will look perfect, carrying my pups.” He murmured softly, tracing along Anders’ ear with his tongue. “Not now, perhaps, but soon.”

Anders shuddered, laughing breathlessly as he pressed into Fenris’ touch, “A-and who decides that you have any say in that, Fenris?”

Fenris’ eyes narrowed sharply, a dark growl rumbling in his throat. “Me. And you do not dare to call me by my name, mage. Not without permission.”

“Then what do I call you?” Anders snorted, leaning forwards to nip gently at Fenris’ shoulder, smirking at the soft moan the elf released.

“Alpha.”

Anders swallowed thickly, tilting his head back as he ran his hands up Fenris’ back, taking delight in the way the elf’s powerful muscles rippled under his touch. “Alpha,” he whispered, drawing his legs up and out from beneath Fenris to rest them on either side of his waist.

He heard Fenris groan gutturally in the back of his throat, and felt his lips trail back down his jaw and towards his neck. The alpha’s hands stroked down towards his thighs, pushing them open wider as he seated himself between them, and then Fenris stopped, pulling his hands back to take off his gauntlets. They were soon back on his flesh, resting over his ribs, warmth seeping into Anders’ skin.

“You are mine.”

Fenris’ gentleness was gone, his teeth sinking into the joint of Anders’ neck and shoulder. The omega keened as Fenris’ fangs broke through the skin, tearing a delighted rumble from the elf as blood welled up onto his tongue. His hands pressed hard into Anders’ ribs, enough so to bruise, marking him with more than teeth in places only Anders would find.

Anders summoned a quick spell to his hands to coat his fingers with grease, ignoring the low growl Fenris snarled into his neck. The alpha was far too gone to think about preparation – he could already feel Fenris’ thick cock sliding across the crease between his hip and his thigh, rutting absentmindedly as his teeth sunk deeper into the mage’s neck, eliciting a whimper from him – so it was upon himself to do it instead.

He was already slightly slick, the mating mark spurring his body to prepare itself. He wasn’t in heat, so the excessive amounts of slick he would have produced weren’t there, which was both a blessing and a curse; there would be less to clean up later, but more preparation needed to make sure Fenris didn’t tear him. He slid his greased hand between them, reaching down to gently press his fingers to his slick hole.

Fenris growled into his neck again, impatient, and begun to rut against him harder. Heat pooled into his stomach at the sound. He shifted his hips to meet his fingers as he thrust them inside, crying out in delight as he was finally filled. The ache in his neck had distracted him from the ache of his hole, which was throbbing around his fingers as he clenched down on them, eager for more. He bit his lip and rhythmically begun to stretch himself out, whimpering as he tried not to just fuck himself down onto his hand. It was tempting, so very tempting, but Fenris’ weight above him reminded him that there was something much bigger and much, much thicker than his fingers ready to pound away inside him.

Anders jerked in surprise as Fenris grabbed his wrist and yanked his hand out, staring up at him with narrowed eyes. He flushed red when he realised he’d been doing exactly what he had been trying not to, his cock leaking copious amounts of precum between them. He’d been close, not near the edge but near enough, and had neglected to let his alpha know that he was ready. Shame flushed through him, and to make up for it he reached out to stroke Fenris’ pulsating length, squirming with delight as the elf instinctively started to thrust. Even with just his hand, those thrusts were brutal, powerful and strong, and a shiver of anticipation ran down Anders’ spine.

Eagerly, with his hand shaking with delight, Anders helped guide Fenris’ cock down towards his waiting hole, wet with slick and grease. He’d barely placed the head against his rosette before Fenris thrust into him with one brutal snap of his hips, tearing a scream from Anders as his hands shot up to grip the elf’s shoulder blades.

Fenris wasted no time. He wrapped his arms around Anders, gripping the opposite ribs with his hands, and started a feral place, his hips thrusting hard and fast inside the mage. The sound of slapping skin echoed throughout the clinic, punctuated by the wet squelch as Fenris thrust in and Anders’ sharp cries. His teeth were safely lodged in the mage’s neck, holding him in place even as the omega tried to thrash around in pleasure, his eyes almost black as instinct rushed over him like a wave, roaring in his ears to just fuck.

Anders could feel hip-shaped bruises forming on his buttocks, the cheeks taking the brunt of Fenris’ feral thrusts. He had a hard time keeping still, wanting more of Fenris’ cock splitting him open, filling him to the brim, but also feeling too full, too much. The pleasure was a haze in his mind, making him numb to everything that didn’t revolve around Fenris or how his cock rammed into the bundle of nerves within him with a deadly accuracy. He held on to Fenris’ shoulder blades for dear life, digging his nails in to the tanned flesh, his back arching up into the elf’s chest. His breathing was ragged, hitching in time with each of Fenris’ thrusts forwards, dragging his nails down his alpha’s back until it was a mess of red lines.

Both men rode the waves of primal pleasure, thrusting back and forth together as they chased down the inevitable end. The pressure building between them was immense, leaving them beasts as Anders whimpered and gasped and Fenris growled and groaned, so feral at times he was on the verge of howling – and that might have been an amusing thought, for the wolf to howl, had he not been balls deep in an omega that smelt of women’s perfume, Andraste’s Grace, sweet apples are pure sex. The scent was as intoxicating as the warmth around his cock, spurring him on to thrust harder, faster, despite the aches in his knees and the soreness of his thighs as they slapped against Anders’ ass.

Eventually, it became too much for Anders to bear. He dug his nails into Fenris’ back until they broke the flesh, clenching down around the elf’s cock as his toes curled and his back arched. He screamed as he came, throat going hoarse and becoming breathy as it went on. His seed shot out in copious spurts between them, making a mess of his stomach and chest as Fenris continued to thrust, oblivious to anything but the velvety tightness of Anders’ ass. He took a deep, shaky gasp and collapsed back against the floor, twitching with oversensitivity as he waited for the pleasure to stop, spent.

Fenris waited for Anders’ own orgasm to subside before burying himself as deep inside the mage as he could go, shouting out his release as he came hard. He let his hips rock slowly back and forth as he rode out the waves of pleasure, snarling and growling possessively as he lapped up the blood still welling from the puncture wounds on Anders’ neck.

Once the haze over Fenris’ mind begun to subside he stopped his thrusting, nuzzling his nose into Anders’ throat instead. He pulled his arms out from beneath the mage and carefully manoeuvred him to sit up, still sheathed on Fenris’ cock. He grunted as he pulled out from Anders, snorting with a twitch of his lips as slick, grease and cum pooled onto the floor below them. The floor was stained already, he decided as he carried Anders over towards his bed in the back of the clinic, he wouldn’t mind it if there were a few more left on the floor from their mating.

He deposited the exhausted mage onto the bed with surprising carefulness, tucking him so that he lay on his side, taking as much pressure off his bruised ass as possible. Fenris smirked as he ran a hand appreciatively over the wounded cheeks, proud of his marking, before sliding in behind Anders to press up against the mage’s back, tangling their legs together.

He pressed a kiss behind his omega’s ear, smiling softly at the lack of reaction. Anders was already sound asleep. He wriggling around a little more before deciding he was comfortable, burying his face into the flesh of Anders’ back. He took one deep breath, inhaling as much of his mate’s scent as possible, before relaxing himself, closing his eyes to follow Anders into the Fade.

—

“Looks like you owe me some Sovereigns, boys.”

Isabela, with her arm wrapped around Merrill’s shoulder, turned to face the two betas standing behind her, a triumphant grin on her face.

Varric sighed heavily, shaking his head. “I knew I should have put more faith in Broody…” He grumbled as he searched through his pockets for the small golden coins, a sour look on his face.

“I think faith is what lead us astray, Varric. Should’ve known Sebastian wouldn’t go for it…” Hawke sighed, searching for the Sovereigns Isabela had bet them. They were handed over with a longing stare from the Champion, right into the tanned hand Isabela had been holding out expectantly.

Merrill, the quiet little omega that she was, her cheeks flushed red, poked Isabela’s side. “We should probably leave now. Fenris gets a bit grumpy when he’s woken up, and I don’t think Anders will be happy that he heard them. Or, he might. I never know with him. He never seems to be able to make up his mind.”

“Yeah, no kidding. I wouldn’t want to be around when Broody wakes up.” Varric eyed the clinic doors warily, though a smirk was tugging at his lips. “Oh, the friendfiction we’ll get out of this… Ha! This could be my next best seller!”

Hawke laughed as Merrill quickly steered them away from the clinic, eyes wide in fear that they’d get caught. Isabela and Varric followed on behind them, talking in hushed tones while Varric waved his hands around wildly, the pirate giving her opinions in the form of silky chuckles or deep frowns. Her hand didn’t stay too far from her pocket, however, now twenty Sovereigns heavier than it had been before.