The first try, he’d been a villain. Her enemy only, treating her like an object to be stolen or won. The second, still a villain, he’d desired to make her a member of his harem, then his wife. Each time she’d been the parody of a person, a damsel princess in distress for the Paladins to save. Over and over, they came into each other’s orbit, but he was too bestial and she was too helpless; they couldn’t be. Too warped by their roles.
It seemed almost as though this time they’d gotten it. He was bestial, but not villainous. He was someone raised in blood and war and who saw corpses as frequent as the moons, a child raised loveless in an endless void who sought to be better than his upbringing. She was passionate, bold, commanding and sharp, capable of ruling, not just a princess in name. And so they fell into each other’s orbit’s again, closer this time. They kissed. They succeeded—well, not quite. They came close to success, brushed hands with it. But the bestial nature of his upbringing had driven him to make sacrifices she could not abide, and the fire in her soul burned too bright and too angry for forgiveness, and they killed each other. First she killed him, left him to rot in the rift between realities. Then his absence killed her, the dominos of fate colliding so that her only option was self-sacrifice.
“We got close this time, my love,” Allura said, when her soul was in the Everything and Nothing, intertwined once more with his.
“One more try?” he suggested, reshaping some bits of their world. “But this time, we’ll get it right.”
—
Her Highness Princess Allura Alforsdottir of Altea, first of her name and heiress to her mother’s throne, was raised lovingly by two parents and one mustached advisor who adored her. She was taught the principles of ruling, the fickle nature of diplomacy, the mire of politics, and, when she insisted that her father quit seeing her as “his little girl,” and start treating her as queen to be, she learned of the necessity of sacrifice, how to be presented with a situation containing no easy solutions and make the hard decisions for her people’s greater good.
Her father’s death at the hand of an old friend was an anguish to her, and then ten thousand years she slept.
Lotor was raised by the strictest Dayak his father could find, one who would foster the Galran flame of violence and victory and the vrepit sa. This Lotor did not limp after his father’s approval, not this time. He knew, somehow, as though delivered to him in a dream, that he would never, ever get it. He kept his kindnesses as his own personal secrets. Hired those his father banished, spared lives he should have, by all rights, slain, and worked with the planets he ruled over, rather than slaughtering needlessly. He hid the Alteans away.
The planet he loved best never went down in flames, while he was forced to watch. That piece of his heart went unbroken, a final proof, to himself, that he would find a way to sustainably gather quintessence. He never turned to more desperate methods of collection. Rift science remained largely hypothetical to him. For ten thousand years, he worked.
And, as they always did, their souls fell into orbit.
The meeting was messy, antagonistic, both understanding the other to be a roadblock to their goals. But when they struck the chord of cooperation it rang out sweet and high and gentle on their souls, something settling down between them that was delightful, yet familiar.
“It feels as though my heart knows you,” Lotor admitted, in the quiet hours when they were alone.
“I feel a kinship with you, also,” Allura agreed, her hands holding Lotor’s larger ones gently, kindly.
When they went to the rift, Allura paving the way for science Lotor thought impossible, they returned victorious, pure quintessence in unparalleled quantities now at their fingertips, and Allura returned to the happy surprise of Keith standing there with an Altean, a young woman too bold to stay where she’d been put, too eager to remain in hiding. Lotor’s secret came out before it’s time, but it was not an unhappy one.
Peace came hard. It came at high costs. But it came, they made it come, and with hands intertwined, they signaled to their people, to the whole universe in its entirety, that the winter of war had ended and the spring of a new age was beginning. And they symbolized such with two vows, and one kiss, the grandest wedding the universe had ever known.
Short and kinda more of an idea than a fic, but my brain went “you know centaurs? That but lions” and I had to run with it.
Alternate Realities/AUs
Lion prides consisted of women, of their families, with young men too small to leave just yet, and an older man, maybe two, possibly three, who acted as head until a fresh, new male came to usurp the throne as leader of the pride. Young women often stayed with their mothers and aunts, few opting to leave the group as they aged.
Allura had never really planned on leaving hers. She liked her mother, liked her nanna and her aunts, liked her goofy uncle and her father.
But when Zarkon took over the pride, her father and uncle’s corpses a testimony to the nature of their kind, Allura quietly took her leave.
“Okay, hear me out,” Pidge, a red billed hornbill that Allura had befriended in her youth, said, perching on Allura’s back. “We’re all actually insects.”
“And how do you reach that conclusion?” Allura asked, meandering towards a nearby watering hole.
“Insects are primarily defined as having six limbs, right? But we have six limbs. I have my bird legs, my wings, and my human arms, you have your human arms, and your lion legs. That’s six.
“Don’t insects also have wings?” Allura asked.
“Oh, yeah,” Pidge said, and for a moment Allura wondered if she’d actually been able to successfully counter one of Pidge’s conspiracy theories. “I guess that means just you’re an insect. I’m a regular harpy.”
Allura laughed, and then her ear twitched. When she turned to look, she saw Pidge’s prey sensibilities also had them staring off to the north.
There was a cenleo there. A lion, just like herself, though he was more beige-gold while she had a more silvery-white quality to her fur. He seemed to notice them about the same time they noticed him, and the wind rustled the grass around the other wise still trio.
He raised a hand in greeting. He wasn’t going to fight them.
She lifted a hand back, and crossed over, curious. There wasn’t much chance he would try and fight her, not if he wasn’t making that clear from the start, though Pidge voiced their wariness.
“Hello,” he greeted, and he had a gorgeous voice. Pidge peered around Allura’s shoulders, likely looking every bit the skeptic, and Allura smiled.
“Hello yourself. Is this your territory?” she asked, not wanting to intrude. He shrugged.
“Only sort of. I’m not going to fight anyone for it, but my pride and I live here.”
A lion that wouldn’t fight having a pride. How novel.
“I’m in the market for a pride,” Allura mentioned, liking how his body language was nonthreatening, almost unassuming. “My name’s Allura.”
“Hunk.”
—
A long conversation near the watering hole and a quick conference with Pidge later, the two decided to follow Hunk home and meet the other lionesses he lived with. He was a soft man, and his pride a collection of people, unrelated, who simply hadn’t been at home among others, or whose families had died of plagues or disasters and had needed new ones.
Allura supposed she’d never find a group more fitting.
Shay, Romelle, Axca, and a woman old enough to be Hunk’s mother, Krolia, greeted Allura warmly, forming fast friendships. They were also quite smitten with Pidge, who gladly informed them all that they were “a lionhearted person anyway.” Hunk rested on a warm rock, happily observing that Allura was welcomed and accepted into the family, and Allura gave him a smile.
Allura smiled back and sauntered over. “I think we’d like to stay,” she said, leaning her lower body against Hunk’s on the warm rock and looking over to where Pidge was arguing delightedly with Romelle.
Hunk gently touched her hand and smiled at her with the kindest eyes. “I’d like it if you stayed, too.”
Content warnings: Stacey’s mom has got it going on, age gap
————————
Meeting Keith’s mother had the whole castle in titters, Shiro obviously the worst, but everyone else was very excited too. Allura patiently waited, at least outwardly, for her turn to shake Krolia’s hand and say hello, smiling the whole while with eyes glued to the woman’s face.
“You must be Princess Allura, then,” Krolia greeted with a smile that showed just the barest hint of fang, extending her hand.
“A pleasure to meet you, Keith’s hot mom,” Allura said, out loud, which left the rest of the castle dead silent.
—
“Keith’s hot mom,” Keith said for what had to be the millionth time, later in Allura’s bedroom while she diligently worked on suffocating herself in her own pillow.
“I can’t believe I said that,” Allura groaned for what had to be the billionth time, earning another bout of mocking laughter from Keith.
“I can’t either. Is this like, a thing with you? Is there something deeper going on here?” Keith carried on, delightedly ignoring Allura slowly lifting and dropping her fist on the back of her own skull. “Do you feel deep, unbridled attraction to me, but since I’m gay and also taken you’ve shifted those feelings onto my mom?”
Allura groaned loudly.
“Or do you just have a thing for older women, maybe? Milfs? Are you into milfs, Allura?”
Allura lifted the pillow from under her face so she could wrap it around her ears, trying to block her friend out.
Keith, absolutely undaunted, sat on her back. “Is it because she’s Galra? Do you secretly have a Galra fetish?”
“I just saw a hot woman in armor and my mouth went faster than my brain!” Allura protested. “That’s it!”
“Right, right. Keith’s hot mom, incredible.”
“I hate you.”
—
Fortunately, the next time Allura saw Krolia, they were not in front of Allura’s friends, Allura’s secondary father figure, god Themself, or Keith’s new dog. It was just them.
“Krolia,” Allura flagged, apology on her lips, jogging a few steps closer.
“Keith’s hot friend,” Krolia greeted in return, grinning with fangs showing. Allura noticed belatedly that she was out of her blade armor, and just wearing a sleek, fashionable tank top. Oh she was in so much trouble.
“Ah, yes, that’s what I wanted to apologize about,” Allura said with a bright blush.
“Nothing to apologize for,” Krolia said before Allura could remark on the inappropriateness of her comment. “I’m flattered.”
“O-oh. That’s good then. I am, glad I didn’t make you uncomfortable. It won’t happen again, though, I promise.”
Krolia leaned on the nearby wall, hand sliding behind her ear and through her lovely hair, musculature on full display.
“Mm. That’s too bad. Something might have happened, otherwise.”
Oh.
Ohhhhhh.
Oh no, Allura was in trouble.
“Well then, I suppose I shall see you later, Keith’s hot mom.”
Krolia grinned wide again and Allura felt her heart flutter. She was playing with fire, now.
She grinned back.
—
“I can’t believe you’re dating my mom,” Keith said into his pillow, for what had to be the millionth time.
“I can’t either,” Allura answered again, delightedly perched on top of Keith’s back. “Does she like flowers? Sweets? What do you think would be good ways to woo her, do you think?”
“I regret everything,” Keith muttered, and Allura poked at his side.
“Pidge also wanted me to let you know,” she cleared her throat, and began singing to the tune of some earth song, “Keith-y’s Mom has got it going on!”
Keith groaned loudly and moved his pillow on top of his head, blocking his ears, while she laughed riotously at him.
“Our fathers” Lotor liked to remind. His father, the hero turned homicidal dictator. Her father, the hero and martyr. The scientists, the explorers, the tragedies in two forms. “Our fathers” was the start of their relationship, the only foundational stone in the mud time and violence had left them wading through. “Our fathers” was the common point, two people who Lotor and Allura were both obsessed with, unable to escape or let go of.
Allura placed her hand on top of Lotor’s, stopping him mid sentence.
“We are not our fathers,” she said gently.
He smiled at her, that heart wrenching way that only he ever smiled at her, that he only ever smiled at her with. “We aren’t. We have the chance to do this right.”
“We do,” Allura agreed, the future before her, “but, Lotor.” She cupped his face in both her palms, noting the twitch of his ears and the rise of his blush. “We are not bound to their narrative either. We can do what they tried, do better, but we can do new things altogether, too. Just us, the way we want things to be.”
“The way we want things to be…” Lotor echoed, a cautious hand coming up to her waist. Such a paradox, this man, always confident, a born leader, but with Allura, inexplicably shy. Two contradicting motivations at odds with each other.
Allura smiled, and slid her hands in the long and luscious hair of his and pulled him down, down, down, for a kiss. God, every time she remembered how much taller he was than her, it gave her flutters.
“The future is ours, and ours alone, Lotor,” she murmured against his lips. “We are guided by our fathers’ memories, but we are not bound to their legacies.
Lotor nodded, his palm on top of hers, now. Then he turned and pressed a kiss to her palm. “Yes. I know. But, I suppose sometimes I forget.”
“That’s alright,” Allura assured, “I will be here with you, always to remind you.”
“Always,” Lotor murmured into her palm, eyes half-mast. “To have you, always, is a dream I could not in my wildest fantasies have fathomed. And yet, here you are.”
“And to have you, to have this,” Allura said in gentle return, “Is more than I had ever dared to hope for.”
Yellow was the color of steadfast warmth, of stubborn joy in the face of adversity, yellow was strong, immovable, firm. Yellow was the scent of something new baking in the oven, smell hanging heavy in the air and thick warmth filling the space alongside it.
Yellow was jokes made to liven up the room. Yellow was sunlight in supposedly dark hours, hope in dismal situations. Yellow was the sun setting on a hard day, and rising on a new one, freshly made.
Yellow was the weight of Hunk’s hand, heavy on her hip but never constricting. Yellow was the taste of his lips against hers, sweet and firm and soft as the sun-warmed soil. Yellow was the color of a love made into a home, of sweet romance simmered down comforting and thick.
Green.
Green was the color of lively curiosity, of unstoppable inquisition poking and prodding and growing through any cracks and edges it could find, and splitting open a newfound seam in boulders and metal when no peeping holes could be found. Green was the color of relentless forward motion, of growth that would neither yield nor hesitate.
Green was playful teasing and sharp prods of making fun. Green was new and childish and tougher than iron. Green was a novel experience followed by a second, until everything was new and the momentum was far too ferocious to escape.
Green was Pidge’s curious kisses, on cheeks and hands and foreheads, before ever reaching the lips. Green was mapping out new territory with two hands held in Pidge’s, dauntless and unafraid and excited. Green was puppy love, two crushes intertwined, but ultimately settling into winter’s brown with no malice nor hard feelings, only the promise of a new spring, and a new form for love to take.
Black.
Black was the color of reliability. Black was cool and ever present, the color of the space between the stars that served as backdrop and steady foundation for their light. Black was hot coffee served plain and calculated words and numbers on the plans that they made.
Black was cool metal and kind hands, gentle “go to sleep; it’s late”s when the night had drawn on so long. Black was open ears to listen and shoulders that desperately needed someone else to lean on, in those blackened hours. Black was giving, but black needed to take, too.
Black was Shiro’s tired sagging into Allura’s arms, his head on her lap or her shoulder and his hand held inside hers, neither one of them knowing who needed this more. Black was the color of Shiro, so strong, and so desperately vulnerable too. Black was the shadow of the man who stood, inevitable, invincible, a brother and partner and friend.
Red.
Red was the color of everything, all the time, so much. Perhaps red was the color of too much, of words just a little too cruel said just a little too soon before the filter kicked in and left guilt tasting heavy in its wake. Red was two tempers interlocking with fangs and refusing to be the first to let go.
But red was also warmth in a cold and frightening place. Red was two hands interlocked, because it was far better to be red than to be lonely. Red was understanding, blood-deep and irreversible. Red was the light in the darkroom that developed the film of all the ugly pictures of themselves, never judging but good to see. Good to know.
Red was the color of Keith’s angry words curled around Allura’s own, sharp and too true not to be born of horrid introspection turned outwards. But red was Keith’s fervent palm, pressed so tightly against her own, because red was Keith’s trust, and as in all things, Keith gave his 100%. Red was the color of a brother and a rival and a foil, or a mirror.
Blue.
Blue was the color of confidence, with an undercurrent beneath it of uncertainty. Blue was trying, trying really, really hard, and praying it would end up okay. Blue was staring down five fools and one silly old man and praying to any god still listening that success could be made from this.
Blue was her family’s color, her father’s bright eyes and her mother’s favorite necklace and the dress she liked to wear best. Blue was family found in the blue-lit halls of the castle, which was a home made with the people housed in it.
Blue was Allura, her pride in herself, and also her fears. The give and take, the ebb and flow of growing and shifting and changing as the universe around her shifted endlessly. Blue was Allura’s bravery, her endless wearing at the sands of fate, knowing if she beat against it long enough, ceaselessly, eventually it would give in to the future she would carve from it. Blue was Allura’s color. Blue was the love she held for herself.
Content warnings: mating cycles/heat, alien biology, F/M/M/M, polyamorous relationship, on the fly polyamory negotiations, breedkink
I wrote like ten jillion pages of Allura/Lotor/Hunk/Matt spicy funtimes so here yall enjoy
Kidnapped princess. What a pathetic trope, right? Allura hated, hated getting kidnapped, primarily because it was terrifying and awful and death hung at every corner, but also because some emotionally-detached piece of her brain thought it was just so ridiculously predictable.
And of course, of course, it was straight out of some tacky cheap burlesque that she had to go into heat in the middle of it.
The swell of her breasts and fire in her face served as mild discomforts. Increased heartrate was honestly easy to ignore. Idle fantasies of how nice it would be for her captors to come through the cell door and find her like this, take advantage of her in this prone and vulnerable state, were easily waved away as annoyances of a psyche plagued with arousal, and didn’t actually bother her in the long run.
But the fucking slick. The wet, endless sensation between her thighs and pooling out of her, that was unbearable. She hated leaking, all days, any day, but heat-leaking was the worst. Thick and unstoppable and soaking through her underwear, leaving spots on her bodysuit and even moist impressions on the floor if she sat in one place too long, it was impossible to shoulder, the absolute worst. But her stupid mammal body didn’t care if she hated it. Her stupid fucking warm blooded Altean biology just wanted a mate or three and to be bred full and to fuck anything that cast a shadow until that happened.
The longer it wore on, the more unbearable it became. Her breathing picked up alongside her beating heart, head hot and fuzzy and aroused beyond any belief, beyond any intelligent thought. She wasn’t anywhere safe enough to try and stick a hand down her bodysuit, too dangerous to let down her guard. As fun as it was to fantasize, she would not be letting any Galra captor near her body without tearing their throats out with her teeth.
Still, her coherency was going fast.
When the door to her cell inevitably opened she was on her feet in an instant, fists balled and teeth bared. She was stripped of her armor and utterly weaponless but she would fight any motherfucker that—
Oh.
Oh, those weren’t Galra soldiers, those were her friends. Matt stood guard in the hallway, his hair and kind of shaggy rebel attire unmistakable, while Hunk and Lotor rushed in, rushed to her side.
How perfect, that it was these three specifically that had come to her rescue. Her brain went down into a puddle of affectionate goo, all three of her mates here in one place with her.
“Lotor, Hunk, Matt!” Allura said delightedly as Lotor gently gripped her by the elbows, pretty eyes searching her for injuries.
“Allura?” Hunk asked, sounding worried. But why would he be worried? Everything was perfect. The three of them were here with her and would take care of her now, and she would fuck them all until her body stopped being stupid and then they could all cuddle together.
“By the ancients,” Lotor muttered at Allura wrapped her arms around his neck and got up on her tiptoes to rub her cheek against his.
“Hi Hunk,” Allura crooned happily.
“Oh, by the ancients,” Lotor repeated, with more feeling, his nostrils flaring against her cheek and his hands hovering above her waist when he should have been putting them on her.
“What’s wrong, what’s happening?” Matt called from the doorway, eyes on the hall. He was so good. He was keeping them safe like a big strong defender. She should give him a kiss for that. And also an orgasm.
“I think she’s in heat,” Lotor said, voice all tight and funny. Allura giggled.
“Yup!” she said cheerily, pressing her lips up against his jaw.
“She’s what!?” Hunk and Matt both asked, and Allura let go of Lotor so she could go give Hunk a hug, because he deserved a hug. He was just standing there being all wonderful and beautiful and attractive like that, with his big arms and pretty face and thick body.
“Woah, okay,” Hunk said, pulling her arms off him, which wasn’t fair! She wanted to hug him! “Easy does it Allura. Lotor, what?”
Lotor’s big nice hands came around her waist from behind and pulled her gently, and while she was sad to leave Hunk’s side when she hadn’t even given him a proper hug, or orgasm, she was also more than happy to cuddle up next to him. He was so tall.
“Heat. As in, estrus. And I believe she may, ah, have selected Hunk and myself as mates?” Lotor said, and Allura giggled again.
“And Matt. It’s really nice,” Allura had to pause and think; where was she going with that sentence? Oh, right. “‘S nice you’re all here together. We can all get started now!” Thinking was very hard like this, and her men should hurry up and get their clothes off and oh, right, she needed to get her clothes off too.
“Allura,” Lotor said, grabbing her hands when they went to the seam of her bodysuit, “we’re making an escape from a hostile enemy ship. Keep your clothes on.”
Allura frowned at him, tugging against his hands. “No, Lotor, I’m so hot, I need you, I need all three of you, please,” she whined, the hot, tight sensation between her legs overriding everything else now that her men were here.
“Okay, okay, I am freaking out, Matt are you freaking out?”
“I’m freaking out.”
“What do you mean Allura is in heat?” Hunk asked, sounding far too serious. She needed to help him lighten up. And also kiss him. But first she needed Lotor to let her go so she could get her bodysuit off, which he wasn’t doing.
“Humans are mammals, aren’t you?” Lotor asked, “Heat! We’ve played the game of ‘will she, won’t she’ for too long and instead of selecting one of us, she’s chosen all three and has entered into a mating cycle in which we are all supposed to enter a complimentary rut!”
Lotor was breathing hard through his mouth, pupils dilated, scenting her. She smiled wickedly and reached forward, towards him, rather than to her own clothes, and weakly he let her. His grip tightened again when she went for his armor and she whined once more.
“Alteans do that?” Matt asked, sounding also far too serious and distressed.
“Humans don’t?” Lotor asked, those pretty giant eyes of his staring right at her tight, over-swollen breasts that needed his hands on them like, right that instant.
“Do Galra also do this?” Hunk asked, voice high.
“We’re mammals!” Lotor said in exasperation. He shook his head, blinking hard. “We need to leave! We need to get Allura off this ship, now.”
“No,” Allura protested, “Stay. Please, let’s just, real fast just a quick fuck and then we can—”
“Lotor’s right, Allura, please, let’s go, okay?” Matt said from the doorway, still on the lookout, keeping them so safe. Why would they ever need to leave when Matt was there keeping them so good and safe? “We’ll figure out how to fix you once we’re back on Lotor’s vessel.”
“It’s a heat,” Allura whined, “We all know how to fix it!”
“Allura, please, let’s just go,” Hunk said, big soft hand on her arm. She grabbed hold of it, and placed it right on the sopping wet crotch of her bodysuit.
“Fuck me first!”
“Oh my god!” Hunk yelled, snatching his hand back.
“Allura, we’ll fuck on my vessel, okay?” Lotor promised, “But we have to go there first.”
“Okay,” Allura said, haze of heat and arousal in her brain clearing just enough to agree, “Let’s go then.”
“Oh my god oh my god oh my god,” Hunk was muttering as they began to run, Matt taking out sentries and Lotor keeping a hand on Allura at all times. Hunk mostly seemed to be trying not to panic. He was so brave. He was always so scared but he did so many heroic and amazing things anyway. She wanted to kiss him stupid. They were all so good. She loved them so much.
She was gonna ride their dicks like it was her goddamn job.
They made it out, thankfully, most of the details lost in a haze of Allura’s ever present and increasing want and need. Lasers were fired, she was pretty sure the ship she’d been on was blown up at some point, blah blah who cared! What mattered was that her beautiful, perfect, amazing mates were free to pay attention to her now and she badly needed them.
She pushed Hunk down to the ground, hooking her ankle behind his, and then sat on his lap, her hands on his chest. “Fuck me.”
“Allura, gentle!” Lotor reprimanded as Hunk started babbling, “Oh, right, right, fuck, okay, how do we make her stop?”
Lotor’s hands went beneath her armpits and moved as though to lift her off of Hunk, but she squeezed her legs around his hips so if Lotor lifted her, he’d have to lift Hunk as well.
“Allura, look at me,” Matt said, kneeling at Hunk’s side, eye-to-eye with her. “You’re gonna be okay, alright?”
So he would fuck her then! Wonderful!
“I need you to focus on me, okay? Just, try and focus, you’re going to be okay.”
Matt was so wonderful. He was so smart and pretty and good, and kind of a dork sometimes but he was always so capable in high stakes situations like this. She wiggled out of Lotor’s hold and kissed Matt, he deserved it, she wanted to so bad.
“Not, not what I meant,” Matt said, losing a little of the calm edge he’d had, which, good. It was about time they got in the mood.
“Lotor how do we make it stop?” Hunk asked, louder now.
Lotor was still breathing hard through his mouth, and his pupils had gone all wide again. Allura pet fondly at Matt’s chest and side, other hand going back to Hunk, and she smiled at her purple lover. She loved them all so much.
“We… take care of her?” Lotor said, “That, or we let it run its course. In the early stages of heat, one could take suppressants, but she’s well past that now. It’s either fuck or suffer.”
Allura whined pathetically at the very thought that the three of them would let her stay like this for a whole movement. “Nooo,” she crooned with tears welling in her eyes, “You wouldn’t do that to me, would you?” she asked, looking between the three of them. “Don’t leave me, please!”
“We can’t just fuck her like this!” Matt protested, gently trying to move her hand away from his pretty, pretty chest. “She can’t consent like this; not meaningfully!”
“The fact that she’s trying to fuck us is fairly indicative,” Lotor argued. “Look, look, just, I’ll try to explain as best I can. If Allura didn’t want us to fuck her, she would’ve torn our throats out the moment we went through that door. Altean females get highly aggressive during mating cycles to anyone who isn’t their chosen mate or mates. The fact that she is like this,” Lotor had to pause and wipe at his mouth. He was salivating. Good. She hoped he got nice and settled into rut and fucked her hard and long and well. “Is proof enough that we are the ones meant to aid her through this.”
Hunk groaned unhappily, but the bulge of his cock where she sat on it was enough proof that he wouldn’t hold out on her forever. She ground her hips down, loving the friction, even if it wasn’t anywhere near enough. “That’s one hell of a difference in speci—oh my god!”
Allura giggled and ground down harder. With their hands finally distracted enough, Allura undid the seam of her bodysuit and shoved it down to her hips, which was unfortunately all the further it could go, with her straddling Hunk like this.
“Shit,” Matt breathed, eyes going right to her tits.
Lotor’s hands came around her from behind, his breath hot against her shoulder. She reached one arm up around his neck, turning her face so she could nuzzle against him, and slid her own hand down into her slick. Her fingers came up soaked, and she pressed them to his lips, his breath catching. She knew how to fully trigger a rut.
“Oh god this is going to happen, isn’t it? Like, we can’t stop it?” Matt mused out loud as Allura pressed her fingers into Lotor’s mouth and pinned his tongue down, enjoying the flex of muscle and the pathetic noise he made. Rolling her hips down on the bulge of Hunk’s cock wasn’t enough anymore, though. They really needed to hurry up and fuck her.
“Boys, please!” she gasped, head rolling back and resting on Lotor’s shoulder behind her, neck exposed and breasts heaving with the rise and fall of her chest. “Please, fuck me, please, I need you so badly I can’t stand it!”
“Just!” Matt held up both hands, staring at the floor with wide eyes. “Lotor, you’re sure she’s coherent enough for her consent to be meaningful, right now?”
Lotor gently pulled Allura’s fingers from his mouth, but the damage was well and truly done. “I’m, ah, losing my own coherency fast,” he said around a tight throat, in a high voice, “But yes. Only chosen partners can get near her like this.” Lotor made the prettiest noise after that and pressed his nose right into the scent glands in the crook of her neck, scenting her, arms wrapped around her belly and she made a delighted noise. What a good boy he was. What good boys they all were. She was going to make them feel soooooo good.
“How are the three of us even supposed to..?” Matt asked, and he sounded so helpless and lost Allura couldn’t help but croon at him.
“Hunk first!” she announced, taking control since obviously leaking hormones all over the vessel wasn’t enough to get these silly goofballs to take it themselves. Lotor whined, a small, cut-off noise, behind her, and she stroked his hair clumsily.
“Pants off, honey,” she purred at Hunk, staring at him through the haze of her arousal.
“Ohhhh my god, we’re really doing this,” Hunk groaned, unclipping his armor. “Fine, fine, okay, crazy alien sex rituals, this is fine, but if I have to be naked so does everyone else.”
Allura was more than okay with that. She got up, needing to lean clumsily on Matt, who was more stable than Lotor, and shimmied the rest of the way out of her bodysuit. The slick between her legs spilled down, no longer restrained by cloth, and she kissed Matt happily, hands undoing his belt for him while he struggled with his shirt.
No sooner was Hunk naked than she was back in his lap, making all sorts of pleased noises and positioning herself.
“Wait, wait!” Hunk said, strong hands on her ass and hip and she wanted to go already! “Condoms!”
“I’m not diseased,” Lotor gasped, sounding very much like it took the last of his remaining thought process to say it.
“Clean!~” Allura chimed.
“Okay but pregnancy—” Hunk started, only to cut off at Allura’s eager trill and her body sinking down on his cock. He met no resistance, fatty looseness and slick paving an easy path for him. She couldn’t believe she’d been annoyed by the wetness earlier, it was so useful in getting her what she needed.
“Yes!” Allura cried, grinning madly, “Yes! Impregnate me! Fill me with your seed, Hunk, I want to bear young and I want it to be yours!”
“Shit!” Hunk hissed, hips bucking up into her in the most decadent of ways.
“Yes, yes! Yes, perfect, Hunk, honey, perfect, yes yes yes yes yes!” Allura’s vocabulary rapidly lost anything that wasn’t “Hunk” or “yes” and she rode him hard, knees digging into the unforgiving floor underneath them. Lotor held her from behind, kissing and mouthing at her neck and shoulders, arms wrapped around her midsection before he fondled at one breast, which, thank fuck, finally! Allura beckoned Matt, placed one of his hands on her tit since he clearly wasn’t going to do it himself, and hooked her arm behind his neck to kiss him, legs fucking down on Hunk’s gorgeous, perfect fat cock the whole time. The first orgasm hit her in a crash, but provided only the smallest of relief. She kept riding, moaning as her slick coated Hunk’s funny, coarse pubic hair. Nothing like Altean bare skin.
“Shit, did she just..?” Matt asked, panting hard and glancing down.
“Good,” Allura moaned, bouncing hard as she could. Lotor began humping against the side of her ass, half-Galra cock hard and leaking.
“Lotor, you good there buddy?” Matt asked, but Lotor made only a garbled sound into Allura’s throat, which made her giggle.
“I think Lotor’s gone,” Hunk gasped, his big hands on her hips, helping to lift her up and thumbs digging into the meat of her thighs when he slammed her back down. Allura laughed, bright and victorious, and gave Lotor’s head a friendly little pat. At least one of her silly men could enter a proper rut.
“Shit, Allura,” Hunk moaned, hips bucking up into her so delightfully. Then Hunk sat up sharply, earning a delighted cry from Allura, and her body was slammed roughly down in his big hands, right onto his perfect cock, while Lotor braced her from behind and kept her from falling back. She kissed Matt, Lotor’s hands on both her breasts. When Hunk came, cum thicker than she anticipated and perfect-hot, she moaned again, biting gently on Matt’s lip.
“Fuck,” Hunk groaned, panting hard and hands petting softly over the skin where he’d grabbed her so roughly. “Fuck, Allura, when you come to your senses you have full permission to murder me.”
“No,” Allura whined, “nothing hurts you. Never. My boys,” She crooned possessively, holding them close to her, “Mine.”
“This is like, unfairly hot,” Matt mentioned, and Allura pried herself off Hunk’s cock. Grinning, she grabbed a fistful of Lotor’s hair and yanked his head up to look at her.
“Fuck me,” she ordered, and the look of pure worship he gave her went straight to her already dripping cunt. He lunged, arms wrapping around her, and she giggled delightedly as he laid her out on the floor, caging her in from above with hazy eyes and silken hair cascading down around them. He had pubic hair too, she noted, as his sweet, ridged cock pushed in nice and hard and fast. His was softer; it didn’t have the same wirey quality Hunk’s did, and she made a mental note to pet it, like a cat. Later, though.
At present, she was a little more concerned with the perfect, absolutely flawless way his hips were slamming his cock into her hole, fucking her good and proper and feral. “Yes, Lotor,” she praised, hands gripping at his muscled forearms, “Yes!”
Matt got up on shaking legs and staggered away, away from them and Allura cried out in despair. “Matt!” she called, “Matt, don’t leave!”
“I’m just checking the sensors, lovely,” Matt assured, fingers flying over various controls. “I don't want us caught with our pants down by enemy fighters. I’ll be right back.”
Allura melted, letting her attention go back to the way Lotor’s Galran ridges felt as they pulsed through her cunt, spreading her wide and sending pleasure straight through her. Matt was so good, so careful and protective and safe. Lotor was so good too, giving her just what she needed.
“Good, Lotor!” she gasped, knowing how much her silly prince loved to be praised. Sure enough, he moaned and his hips lurched. Perfect and almost-bruising. “Good boy, good Lotor, my mate, my good, good Lotor,” Allura babbled, and clung tightly when Hunk’s hand took hold of her own. He was laying beside her, eye to eye, fingers intertwined with hers, and so, so good and perfect.
She came again, somewhere in the midst of it all, and Lotor fucked her through it, hot and fast and hard and so flawlessly, wonderfully amazing.
“God it’s like every fantasy I’ve ever had come to life,” Matt muttered, and Allura giggled to see him watching, almost voyeuristically distant from the three of them, cock hard and upright at attention. When Lotor whined, she pet his hair.
“Come in me, fill me, fuck me full of your cum and breed me, good Lotor,” Allura gasped, squeezing Hunk’s hand and rolling her head back so Lotor could press his face right into the crook of her neck while he came, doing exactly as he’d been told. “Good boy,” she crooned, because it deserved to be said out loud all the time.
Lotor nuzzled her fondly, an answering croon low in his throat, and caught his breath a moment. When he started moving again she pushed his shoulders. “Ah ah! Matt!” She turned to her third lover with a big grin, wiggling out from under Lotor and then placing herself on her hands and knees, pussy leaking slick and cum and pointed right at Matt. “Maaaatt,” she called, grinning at him from underneath the hair that tried to block her view. Silly messy hair. Silly mate that stood there staring uselessly at the cunt that needed his cock in it, so bad. She shook her ass a little, beckoning, and that seemed to prompt him enough to get him staggering forward, fumbling into position behind her.
“Good, Matt,” she crooned. He liked being praised too, but who didn’t? And her boys, they were all so good, she should praise them all the time. And also give them so many orgasms. He somehow managed to miss the hole the first time, despite being wide open and right there, but the second time he got it in, and Allura made a happy noise, rocking back onto the cock he was so hesitant to fuck her with.
“Matt, Matt, please,” Allura moaned, and felt his cock twitch inside her. Oh ho ho, begging perhaps? She should try. “Matt, I need you, please, fuck me,” Allura said, forcing her heat-addled brain to go vocal, and she was rewarded for her efforts. She kept it up, a litany of desperate begging while she rocked on his cock, and Matt bent over her, grabbed two handfuls of her tits—thank fuck—and pistoned into her fast and sharp. Her begging became peppered with affirmations and praise, and then was cut off ever so sweetly by Hunk kissing her, moaning into her mouth.
Matt lifted her upright, and Allura braced herself on Hunk’s steady, warm weight, kissing him with one arm slung around his broad, capable shoulders. Her other hand she buried in Lotor’s hair, pulling on it in the way his hair just begged to be yanked and guiding his face to her breast, which Matt graciously released so Lotor could suck on her nipple there, hands braced on her shuddering hips while Matt pounded into her from behind.
“I can’t last long,” Matt warned, and Allura moaned happily.
“Fill me, fill me Matt, please, I need it,” she mumbled, forehead pressed to Hunk’s in perfect intimacy. Perfect lovers, perfect mates, perfect men. By the ancients, she loved them so much. And then Matt was coming inside her and it felt so good, so impossibly good to be pumped so full of cum from the three best most amazingly wonderful people in the whole universe.
Matt and Hunk both collapsed, and she laughed at them. What goofy humans. She yanked on Lotor’s hair again, and he got his sweet perfect cock back into her, right where it belonged, and Matt and Hunk both made strangled noises.
“Okay, question, how long does this go on for?” Hunk asked, “Because human refractory periods are not that short.”
Allura made a happy, dopey noise at him, clinging to Lotor, and then cried, “We’re going to do this forever!” She never wanted to stop! There would be nothing but the four of them, always, forever and ever to the end of time! Just them filling her full of their hot cum and fucking her so sweet and perfect, just how she needed.
“I think we’re gonna be getting really good at oral and handjobs,” Matt remarked, and over the course of the next few hours, they absolutely did. The two humans fucked her a few more times a piece with their sweet delicious cocks, staggered throughout their time together, but mostly they relied on their deft hands and delightful mouths to give her the orgasms she needed so badly. Lotor was better, able to catch his breath between rounds and rouse his cock while he watched their other mates fuck her, petting her and fondling her while he waited for his next turn. Such a shame he was the only one who could rut properly, but at least she wasn’t shredding him to pieces, which was the usual concern during Altean mating cycles.
Finally, after many hours of fingers and tongues and cum, Allura came one last time on Hunk’s cock, sitting on his lap with her back to him, Lotor suckling her breast again and Matt kissing her mouth and petting at her belly. She gasped, everything going suddenly sharper, the haze snapping like cut rubber. Lotor gasped as well, and collapsed onto the floor, Allura melting into a boneless puddle in the middle of them.
“Oh my god,” Matt gasped, his breathing so very hard from exertion, “Is it over?”
“Yes,” Allura gasped in turn, blearily lifting a hand to pat at his face. “Yes, you did amazing. Hold on just, let me,” Allura swallowed hard, “orient myself. Hold on.”
“Thank god,” Hunk murmured behind her, warm arms wrapping around her soft and safe. Her stupid mammal brain loved that, loved feeling safe and kept by her mate, and she tried to take deep breaths as slowly as she could, willing her heartrate to calm while she was cuddled by her three best friends in the universe.
“Do humans really not have mating cycles?” she eventually asked, when their breathing had all calmed and exhausted sleep loomed over them like a cloud just bursting at the seams.
“We have menstrual cycles,” Matt supplied, “Which include ovulation, which I guess technically could count as a human heat. But that’s just, horny, not… this.”
“Absurd,” Lotor mumbled sleepily from his place in Allura’s lap.
“Coming from the purple alien that has crazy sex rituals,” Hunk muttered, playful banter rather undercut by how absolutely beat he sounded.
“Purple is a normal color, where I come from,” Lotor said without opening his eyes.
“Question, how often do heats happen?” Matt asked, “Because I don’t know if I can do that again.”
“Once every couple of decaphoebes, for most. The shortest heat cycle ever recorded was eleven phoebes. We learned about it in health class,” Allura answered, sleep slurring her own words.
“Question, are you gonna end up pregnant from this?” Hunk asked.
“Oh yes,” Allura answered while Lotor hummed an mm-hmm. “I am so pregnant right now, it is decidedly unavoidable.”
“Shit.”
“Well fuck.”
“It might be the hormones talking, but I’m rather happy about it,” Allura mumbled, nuzzling against Hunk’s cheek. “I could wish for no better fathers.” She took a deep breath. “But now, I really rather think I should like to sleep.”
“I’ll ping the others, let them know where we are and that we were successful and we’ll be there in a few hours. Maybe grab a blanket, if Lotor has one hidden away somewhere,” Matt said, getting up with audible effort.
“Under the second panel, near the directional controls,” Lotor mumbled. She pet his hair.
“You did very well, all three of you. Let’s sleep.”
And when Matt came back, the four of them snuggled up together underneath the blanket, they did.
“What is a legacy,” Hunk read aloud at the foot of the statue of the woman he’d once loved. “It’s planting seeds in a garden you never get to see.” He placed a bookmark and shut the book. “Early 21st century American poet, Lin-Manuel Miranda.”
He stared up at the stone. It was a beautiful day. Warm, with a chipper breeze, puffy white clouds racing by miles and miles above him, but that specific texture that made them look close enough to touch, if he just got a ladder and reached out far enough.
“You left a really good legacy, Allura,” he said to her youthful smile. Unfairly young, that her life had ended before Pidge’s voice had even dropped, before she’d gotten to see Lance’s hilarious attempt at a mustache, before she got to attend Shiro and Keith’s wedding, before she could tease Coran for his second encounter with the slipperies, before her body had even stopped growing, fully. Her face held no wrinkles in the stone, her skin did not sag like theirs was starting to. It wasn’t fair.
“The Olkari refugees have finally found a permanent new home,” Hunk said, “Hostilities have settled between Etheror and Voil. Kolivan is still working like a dog, but there’s really visible payout.” The mice darted around idly in front of him, two playing tag, one nibbling at the tall grass, one napping in the sunlight. “Shay and Romelle started dating, recently, and the three of us are still doing our ‘best friends who cook and yell sense into diplomatic leaders’ thing. Got to exercise my old engineering muscles, the other day. Had a minor breakdown in our ship. Easy repair, but it was fun.”
Hunk didn’t know why he kept coming back to this statue, to this place, and these memories. A sensible person would’ve had a hard cry, and moved on. He hadn’t even been 20 when she died, it wasn’t like they’d lived a lifetime together.
Maybe that’s what people meant, when they said “soulmate.”
“The others miss you less,” Hunk said, bittersweet. “It’s good. Losing you hit us all really hard. It’s nice to see everyone, y’know, moving on.” The smallest mouse skittered up his leg to avoid getting tagged, taking advantage of the giant friendly apex predator that doubled as a jungle gym. “Dunno why I can’t.”
Over the wind, it would have been impossible to hear any rustling of cloth, any footfall, any anything, really. Maybe Keith or the other Marmorites could have, but Hunk was just a non-militant human who’d been retired from his robo-lion days for years.
But still, he turned.
“Allura?”
The woman before him had crows feet and smiling eyes. Clothes he’d never seen before and Altean marks that stretched further down her cheeks. Her hair was less sliver and more grey in small patches, just starting to shift, just barely, and her body was softer and squishier than it had been. Not forever youthful. Not carved in ageless stone.
