Archive of Our Own ^beta

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Chapter Text

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Azriel feels a splitting headache looming just behind his left brow, he presses his knuckles against his skin in a futile attempt to quell the pain.

It’s his first tell that his rut is coming sooner rather than later.

He pulls open a desk drawer and grabs a bottle of tylenol. It is a temporary solution for a bigger and more tedious problem, but he doesn’t particularly feel like spending the rest of his evening with his head throbbing.

Azriel leans back in his chair, turning to see New York’s skyline winking back at him like a thousand stars. He rests his chin against his fist with an exhale.

He never looked forward to his ruts, per se.

There was too many variables to contend with, too many things that had to be switched around and changed to accommodate his biological needs.

Truth is, he was just too damn busy for it.

And of course, there was the task of finding an omega to spend the week with.

For the past two years, he had spent his ruts with an friend of his. It was a mutually beneficial agreement in which he would help her through her heats and she would return the favor during his ruts. However, she gracefully bowed out at the beginning of the year after starting a relationship with an alpha of her own.

He was glad for her, but it meant that he spent his last rut with just his hand to get him through the week. It had been a miserable affair that left him unfulfilled and out of sorts.

Azriel didn’t think he could repeat that again, not with the update of his security program on the horizon. He needed to be at his best, which meant having a good rut.

Which meant he needed an omega.

In normal circumstances, Azriel would’ve been able to romance an omega properly but to be frank, he just didn’t have the time. He had been trapped in his office for weeks now, his cycle the last thing on his mind while his upcoming project stood at the forefront.

Azriel puffs out a breath and turns back to his monitor, fingers flying across his keyboard and he pulls up a website that he’d never had to consider using before.

He wets his lips, considering the home page before going through his own channels to make sure the site is reputable. After satisfying his search, he makes an account and posts his listing.

One week.

That’s how long he will keep his listing up. If he cannot find a partner in a week’s time, then he’ll just have to suffer through another agonizing rut alone.

One week.

Azriel closes out of the website before diving back into his project.

+

It’s Wednesday night and Azriel’s headaches are getting progressively worse, he rubs at his temples as he pours through yet another fruitless response to his listing.

He knows he shouldn’t be overtly criticial but goddamn, there wasn’t one omega that he was remotely interested in spending a day with—let alone an entire rut cycle.

His inbox had been full of inquries, he took his time and started messaging the more promising contenders but all of them eventually fell flat.

Azriel knows that when his rut started, his personal preference wouldn’t matter much anyway. He just needed an omega to take his knot but still, he wanted to be intentional with his choice.

He shifts uncomfortably in his chair, his scent glands started to itch this morning—another sign of his cycle quickly approaching. Not to mention the general feel of discomfort that started to make a home under his skin accompanied by a sharpened awareness of pheromones.

He glances at his clock, 9:50 pm—he’s spent his allotted time, it was time to delete the listing and face the reality of another piss-poor rut.

It had been a foolish notion in the first place.

But, his computer pings—notifying him of a new message.

Azriel scoffs and has half the mind to ignore the message and delete the damned thing as intended but something stills him. He hesitates, his mouse hovering over the delete button and he lets out a choice curse before opening the message.

Tulip2003: Hi, I’m interested in helping you through your rut cycle but I feel like I have to be honest, I’m not very experienced with ruts or alphas in general. I just thought you should know if we decide to make arrangements.

Azriel leans forward, pushing his blue-light glasses up the bridge of his nose and feels interest bloom somewhere in his chest.

She was being honest about her lack of experience on a sex website of all places. It was…well, odd if not somehow commendable.

It also didn’t help that his inner alpha was quick to revel in the idea of having innocent omega to thoroughly ruin.

But Azriel tries to ignore that for the time being.

The majority of omegas who responded to his posting were quick to ask for his price or the size of his knot or if he was interested in a more permanent arrangement.

She just wanted to be honest, and to know if she would be safe.

Azriel is quick to reply, outlining the terms of their arrangements as well as the price he was willing to pay. He was unsurprised that she accepted his offer without any negotiations. He was, however, surprised that she was so gracious about it.

It made him think that she must really be in need of the money, otherwise she didnt necessarily seem the type to be on this kind of site.

His alpha croons at the thought, already imagining all the ways he could provide for the omega.

She sends over some personal information which Azriel greedily consumes, eager to know about her.

Her name is Elain.

Elain, Elain, Elain—his inner alpha chants, a pretty little name for a pretty little omega.

Azriel shifts uncomfortably.. The arrival of his rut is increasing his barer instincts, and forces them aside so he can read in peace and a clear head.

Her name is Elain, she is twenty-one and is a student at the prestigious culinary school in Hyde Park. She has two sisters, her apartment is full of plants and her favorite thing to bake right now are macarons even though they’re fussy. She likes to go on runs, especially in the morning, and was born on the sixteenth of July.

She works at a café and a flower shop and picks up shifts serving at a Italian restaurant every now and then.

He was right in the assumption that she must really be in need of the money. Elain was a student and on top of that, worked two to three jobs.

She sent him a picture too. He feels himself grow taunt with anticipation as he opens the file and—

And his world tilts.

His mouth grows dry as he takes in every perfect line and curve of the easily the most beautiful face he’d ever laid eyes upon.

Her’s was a face the inspired poetry, that demanded to be capture in every medium. She had the face of a muse, one that would bring an artist to madness trying to recreate.  She had the face that men would go to the war for, that men would take up arms and spill crimson for.

Azriel realizes he had been staring at her picture for an embarrassing length of time and reminds himself that she is most likely waiting for a response.

He quickly types a reply before sending over his own information. Hopefully, and perhaps a little foolishly, he hopes she has a similar reaction to his picture as he did her’s. Azriel wasn’t oblivious about his good looks, he had garnered a fair amount of attention for them his entire life. Yet, he still wondered if Elain would find him attractive.

His computer pings again.

Tulip2003: Hi Azriel.

Tulip2003: Do you really take your coffee black, or is it just some macho-alpha rite of passage?

A surprised chuckle escapes his lips and Azriel can’t help the tug at the corner of his mouth.

He never looked forward to his ruts, but there is something that roots itself in the chasm of his ribs that tells him otherwise.

+

present day.

+

“Hello Elain.”

It seems impossible, she thinks—half delirious at the sight of him, that he should be even more striking in person.

Maybe it was his voice, that low timbre that was all smoke and honey. Or perhaps, his eyes that were staring down at her with a quiet intensity that made her knees wobble. His pupils were so blown they almost hid the beauty of his hazel eyes, the flecks of gold that were painted on his irises.

And, she probably should say something back instead of openly gaping at him.

“H-Hi,” Elain’s face is hot under his unrelenting gaze. She clear her throat and tries again, “Hello Azriel.”

His mouth twitches, his eyes nearing black and his reaches out to take the heavy bag from her shoulder. Barely, but just enough, his fingers graze her bare shoulder and Elain trembles—rubbing her thighs as a fresh wave of arousal overtakes her.

Azriel’s nostrils flare and oh my god, he can smell her. Her cheeks burn in mortification and Elain has half the mind to take off running to save herself any further embarrassment.

“Thank you.” Elain manages shyly, casting her eyes downward—unable to withstand the weight of his eyes upon her.

“Elain.”

The gentle tone of his voice make her glance up, only for a moment and, “I want you to know that you are safe here. That I am going to take care of you. Do you understand?”

She nods, fingers twisting the hem of her dress.

“I would very much like to hear you say the words.”

Elain looks up, wetting her lips and with an quiet exhale, “I understand.”

Pleased, “Good girl.”

Those two simple words send bolts of heat scorching up her spine to her throat. She feels feverish, she feels like a string pulled too taunt, ready to snap and unravel and un-become. She feels like she would do anything, anything he wants to hear those words fall from Azriel’s sinful mouth.

Azriel stretches out his hand to her, her brows push together slightly as she takes in the white scars that twine around his fingers down to his wrist. Elain thinks of fig vine that hangs in a pot from her ceiling. She thinks of the leaves reach towards the light from her window. How she’ll coo quiet encouragements of growth as she waters it’s soil.

It’s resplendent, and so are his scars.

“Beautiful.” Elain murmurs, accepting his hand.

Something like surprise shifts in his expression, but only for a heartbeat. Azriel leads her through his house, and in normal circumstances, Elain would’ve taken the time to study the details of his home.

But her eyes remain fixed on the man in front of her.

Remained fixed upon the long width of strong shoulders, the flex of muscles in his back and arms, the way his black hair curls at his nape.

She follows him through a long hallway into what she presumes is his bedroom. Her eyes lock on the large bed at the center of the room. The omega inside her strains—begging to be touched, to be taken and filled, filled, filled.

Azriel gently pulls her around so that she’s now facing him with her back towards the bed. Her nerves kick back in, like a blinding light through an instinctual haze. Azriel leans forward and Elain squeezes her eyes close, hands balling into fists at her sides as she readies herself for whatever comes next.

Nothing, however, could’ve prepared her for the slightest touch of his thumb at the hollow of her throat, inches away from her scent gland.

Elain’s eyes flutter open.

Azriel looks down at her, something primal and wanting and heavy in those dark eyes of his. He moves his thumb upward, tilting her chin with it and he leans down.

“How is it,” He says, voice low and full of husk, “That you’re a even more exquisite in person?”

Her breath stutters as he presses his thumb against her bottom lip, dragging it down just so before he steps forward and forward and forward until the back of Elain’s knees press into his bed and she falls onto it.

He follows her, bracketing himself so she feels only just the press of his hard, hot body against her. His mouth finds her throat, tasting her soft skin—inhaling her honeyed scent.

She grips onto his shoulders, unsure what to do other than lie back and feel. His lips curves against her skin, “That’s it, let me take care of you. Let me make you feel so good.”

His lips leave a trail of scorched skin down her throat, past the ridge of her collarbones, to her heaving chest. Azriel pulls one strap of her dress down, then the other and—

And he all but groans at the sight of her bare chest, her nipples straining to be touched.

Elain goes pink, hands automatically flying down to cover herself but Azriel grabs her wrists and pins them out.

“Such pretty perfect tits,” He hums, leaning down to kiss between them, “Such pretty pink nipples, I bet your pussy just a pink.”

She gasps at his filthy mouth, at those filthy words even as her toes curl because of them.

His mouth pushes into a smirk before he takes a nipple in his mouth and sucks. Another gasp is torn from Elain and he releases her hands so he can give proper attention to her other breast as well.

It’s almost painful, Elain thinks as she tangles her fingers through the thick of his ebony curls, this pleasure—this languid climb that leaving her wanting more, more, more.

Her hips cant up, searching for something to help her quicken that climb. What she finds is his hard length and oh, the relief that it brings her. Elain, finally surrendering to her most bare instincts, wraps a leg around Azriel’s trim waist and pushes herself into him.

He stills his ministrations, pulling back to look up at Elain, “Such a greedy thing, do you want more Elain?”

She nods wordlessly, still grinding against him with a consuming need. Azriel braces himself on his elbow, and grabs the thigh snug against his waist.

“Say it then,” Azriel demands softly, his other hand delving into hair at the base of her neck. He pulls, exposing the long, feminine line of her throat, “Tell me what you want.”

She lets out a whimper as he follows the rhythm she had set, each delicious push was bringing her closer and closer to that inevitable edge that she wanted so badly to fall over.

“This,” Elain gasps, “This, this, this—

She falls.

She falls into her release with a small cry, holding fast to Azriel like a lifeline as she clenches and bucks and twists through the wave of pleasure that swallows her up. Swallows her whole.

“So beautiful,” Azriel says, palming the back of her head, “So responsive and perfect, so sensitive.”

And Elain wants to taste those words, she wants to swallow them so she pulls him into her and captures his mouth.

She kisses him and becomes lost to the feel of his lips against her’s, becomes lost to the clever scrape of teeth and tongue. Azriel drinks his fill from her, kissing her with such unbridled need that it leaves her breathless when they finally separate.

“So beautiful.” Azriel murmurs again, more to himself and pulls the her dress off. His fingers brush against the cobalt lace of her panties, and he smiles.

Elain watches, chest heaving as he pushes himself off and pulls off his shirt in an way that is so entirely masculine that it causes her to sigh.

And Azriel does belong in museums in Paris.

Truly, he does.

She takes in every line, every cut of corded muscle. Every ridge and swirl of black tattoos that dance up his arms to her shoulder, down his chest and her mouth goes dry.

In a trance, Elain reaches a hand up—fingers outstretched to touch, to feel.

She hesitates, a moment of shyness overcoming her.

Azriel grabs her hand, not allowing her to withdraw, “Don’t. This is yours. All of me. Never deny yourself your pleasure.”

“Yes.” Elain exhales and lays both hands on his chest, biting down on her swollen lip. His eyes flutter shut at her gentle exploration.

She traces the lines of his tattoos, she runs her nails along smooth, sharp muscle. Her thumbs find the vee of his abdomen, that trail of dark hair that leds to—

Elain, subconsciously and perhaps, instinctively, licks her lips.

And Azriel snaps.

He rips off the flimsy fabric covering her sex and proceeds to bury his face between her thighs.

Elain arches off the bed, fingers tearing at the sheets and she cries out as he mouth fastens around her clit.

He adds a finger, then another, “Gotta stretch you out, you’re so fucking tight. You’re gonna feel so good around my cock.”

She whimpers as he licks and sucks and tells her dirty, wanton things in between it all.

And with those clever fingers and that clever mouth, he brings her over again.

Elain watches with heavy lidded eyes and limbs like jelly as Azriel rises from between her legs, mouth wet and twisted in what could only be described as a purely satisfied smirk.

Now it is he who licks his lips and, “So fucking sweet. I’ll have to taste you over and over again to get my fill.”

Azriel removes the rest of his clothing until he is standing completely bare in front of her. Elain greedily takes in the rest of him, eyes snagging on his impressive—if not  intimidating length. He gives himself a few languid strokes before settling himself in between her legs.

He rubs the head of his cock between her wet folds, focusing particularly on her swollen bud before notching himself at her entrance.

Azriel kisses her, softly this time, like he’s luring any of her lingering nerves away. He lifts up, pressing his thumb against her lip and slowly, slowly pushes into her.

And what a deliciously painful stretch it is.

Elain nearly forgets how to breathe as he moves inch by inch inside of her, her walls clenching him with a fervent need. She throws her arms around his neck, pressing her forehead against him and moans softly.

“That’s it,” Azriel whispers to her, voice catching, “That’s my good girl, you’re taking me so well. God, you feel so good.”

Elain exhales as he finally bottoms out, holding her there to get accustomed to the length of him before slowly pulling out and pushing back in. Azriel works her with gentle, shallow thrusts all while pressing words of encouragement into her skin.

She starts to lift her hips to met him, willing him to go deeper—to go faster.

“Fuck.” Azriel grits out, bracing an elbow above her head as he finds a rhythm that leaves them both panting.

Elain surges up to kiss him, letting him taste her own whimpers and quieted pleas for more, more, more.

His other hand is everywhere: squeezing her throat, massaging the swell of her breast, digging his fingers in the meat of her thigh.

It’s truly indescribable, this feeling. It’s different than the other times Azriel led her to her peak, it almost feels intrinsic—like her body was made to take him in this way. Like they were made for each other.

Elain holds him tighter, hushed words of pleasure transforming into stumbling curses as she feels herself grow tighter and tighter until her world goes stark white behind her eyelids.

She clenches around him wildly, lips parted in a silent gasp as she throws her head back and surrenders to pulsating release that renders her useless.

“You’re so pretty when you come,” Azriel groans, his motions becoming quick and sloppy, “So fucking beautiful.”

He thrusts into her deep and hard and fast, hips stuttering as his own release finds him.

Azriel comes with a strangled curse, head dropping into the crook of Elain’s neck as his knot swells, locking them together.

“You did so good baby,” Azriel murmurs, “Wanna be inside you forever.”

And Elain can’t help the pleased smile that tugs relentlessly on her lips, “Accoridng to my research, you’ll have the next twenty to thirty minutes.”

He huffs out a laugh, “Research?”

“I had to come prepared.” Elain says, running her hands down the strong planes of his back.

“What a wonder you are.” Azriel places a kiss against her throat, “Such a kind, considerate rut partner.”

Elain is the one who laughs now, “Thank you.”

Azriel makes a move to shift her so she’s not pinned under his weight but Elain stops him, finding that she rather likes the warm press of him against her.

I think, Elain decides, that’d I should be the one paying for if week of this.

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Chapter Text

This, Elain decides, must be heaven.

She sinks down lower into the tub, the water just below her chin as steam curls around her in the gentlest embrace.

There is a pleasant soreness that settles into her bones—and in between her legs. A reminder of the near constant pleasure that consumed her for the past three days.

Azriel had prepared her a bath, insisting that she needed a moment of reprieve, of relaxation. He poured salts that would ease the strain in her muscles, laid out a tray of meats, cheeses, and fruits on a table next to the massive porcelain tub she was currently soaking in.

He had been…

Perfect.

Unbelievably, unimaginably perfect.

A flush stains her cheeks as she thinks about all the ways he coaxed tides of pleasure out of her—about his hands, his shoulders, his mouth.

Elain sinks a little further in the tub, pressing her lips together to keep from sighing.

She feels every bit of spoiled little omega right now. Nuala and Cerridwen would be proud.

Truth is, Elain has never felt more cared for in her life. She had to keep reminding herself that this wasn’t something extraordinary, that this was just merely alpha behavior during their rut cycle.

In two days time, Elain would be leaving this little solace and return to a stark reality where she was on her own. There would be no Azriel, there would be no assured touches and gentle kisses. There would be no sharing plates of food after hours spent drawing out pleasure from one another, nor quiet conversations before sleep.

She exhales, trying not to think too hard about it. She has these next couple days and it would have to be enough.

It needed to be enough.

The door of the bathroom opens and there he is, filling the space with his magnetic presence. Azriel eyes her, something like a smirk twitching at the corner of his mouth.

“Pleased?”

Elain nods, “Pleased.”

“Good.”

Azriel bends down next to her, fingers reaching out to toy with the loose curl that escaped her bun. Elain shivers at the brush of him against her nape.

“Are you…” Elain looks down shyly, “Are you feeling okay?”

“You’re asking if I’m wanting to be buried inside you again?” Azriel hums, disregarding the curl completely and cups his hand around her throat—thumb finding her scent gland and stroking it softly.

Elain nearly sputters, concealing it with an embarrassed cough.

He smirks fully, “How you’re still shy is beyond me.”

“It’s embarrassing.”

“It’s endearing.”

She huffs, leaning into his touch.

“I always want to be buried inside you Elain, next question.”

Elain tries to dunk herself under the water, to save herself a little humiliation. Azriel stops her with a chuckle, “Enough of that. I’m just being truthful.”

“You have no shame.” She mutters

“Not when it comes to you.” Azriel replies simply, “Besides, you look so lovely when you blush.”

“You’re cruel.”

“Nonsense.”

With that, he rights himself, leans over and proceeds to pick Elain straight out of the tub—bubbles and all.

“What are you doing!” Elain half shrieks-half giggles, “You’re gonna get soaking wet.”

Azriel glances down at her, looking particularly devilish and, “That’s the plan.”

“Oh my—“ Elain slaps her palms over her burning face, “I can’t believe you said that.”

Azriel gently lays her on his bed, ignoring her protests about the sheets and situates himself between her legs.

“Do you think you can take some more baby?” He mumurs, running a hand up her calf to her thigh

Elain scrapes her lip with her teeth, and nods, “Yeah.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah.”

His eyes go dark, and he leans down to press a kiss there, there, and there—purposely ignoring where she needs him the most. His cool breath washes over her skin, leaving a path of raised skin as he takes his time tasting her skin.

Azriel takes a pointed nipple into his mouth, gently swirling the swollen bud with his tongue before sucking. Elain arches, hands curling his sheets.

His hand drifts downward, over the smooth planes of her belly down to her throbbing wetness. His fingers—God, his fingers, delve between her soft folds and he starts to stroke her in a slow, torturous rhythm.

He brings his mouth up to her neck, to his decidedly favorite spot and puts his teeth and tongue to work. In between the bites and licks and kisses, he presses words of encouragement into her skin.

“That’s it Elain.”

“So fucking wet for me.”

“Can’t wait to fill you up.”

“Come on my fingers baby.”

Elain cries out, clenching around him tightly as she rides out the waves of her orgasm. He replaces his fingers with his cock, not even giving her the chance to breathe before he buries himself to the hilt inside of her.

She keens, bowing off the mattress as he takes and takes and takes from her. Azriel lifts slightly, grabbing her face, “Look here, Elain. I want to see you come again and again and again.”

His filthy, sinful words send her barreling right into another peak, her thighs tightening around his hips as he drives into her. A sob is ripped from her lips when he finds her clit with greedy, greedy fingers, “I can’t—I can’t…

Azriel laughs softly in her ear, “You can and you will.”

She is so sensitive, so raw as he coaxes a third out of her without having to even try. Elain whimpers and cries and curses and Azriel rolls her over on her stomach so he can take her from behind. She presses her cheek into the mattress, arching her back to present herself to him and Azriel groans at the sight of her dripping with slick for him—because of him.

He can’t help but taste her, to run his tongue along her slit before notching his cock back inside of her where it belongs.

His hands grab her hips, pulling her into him as he chases his pleasure. Gasping and groaning at every squeeze of her around him and she feels like a dream, like she was handpicked by some higher power just for him.

“Fuck.” Azriel whispers, dark curls falling over his eyes as he climbs higher and higher, spurred on by the obscene sound of their bodies rocking.

“Elain,” He grits out between clenched teeth, “Can you take my knot, you don’t have to but I’m close—

“Yes,” She whimpers, the sound muffled as she buries her face into his bed, too overcome by her own pleasure, “Yes, yes, yes—please, I want it.”

That’s all it takes for him to come, the sound of her begging for him like that. So desperately, so prettily. He braces himself, careful not to collapse on her as he feels his knot swell inside of her. Azriel groans heavily, forehead nudging her shoulder blade and he presses his mouth against her skin.

“Has anyone told you how exquisite you are?”

An exasperated laugh bubbles from Elain’s lips, “You have. Quiet frequently over the past few days.”

Azriel gently situates them to their sides, positioning Elain so she tucked comfortably against his chest. He runs his nose through her heavy curls, inhaling that honeyed jasmine scent that’s driven him to madness, “I feel as if I haven’t told you enough.”

“You’ve told me plenty,” Elain gently disagrees, “Anymore and my ego would be out of control.”

“Hmm,” He considers it, “I don’t think that’s possible.”

“How so?”

“You don’t strike me as the conceited type.”

“Really?” Elain hums, “Many assume that.”

“It’s because you’re beautiful.” Azriel states simply, placing a palm against the flat of her stomach, “It’s a natural connection people make.”

“I suppose.” Elain covers his hands with her own, “Though, I wish it weren’t.”

A shiver races down his spine when she starts to trace the violent twists of his scars with her delicate fingers. He hides his face into the slope of her neck, “You seem to have trouble accepting that you’re the total package.”

She snorts, completely unladylike and so wholly endearing that it makes him grin against her skin.

“You’re such a tease.” Elain huffs, a touch of fondness in her voice.

They settle into one another, a pleasant silence falling over them. Her eyelids begin to grow heavy, lulled by the gentle rise and fall of the strong chest behind her.

“Azriel?”

“Elain?”

“I have a completely random question.”

“Okay?”

She pauses and, “Why were you on that website?”

Immediately, “Why were you?”

Elain huffs, “You can’t answer my question with a question.”

“Why not?” She can feel the curve of his mouth against her head, “I’ve been distracted lately and my cycle just, well, sneaked up on me.”

“Hm-mm.”

“I used to have a cycle partner but she found herself an alpha that she wanted to mate with and I haven’t had the time to find another arrangement.”

“So the website?”

“So the website. It’s funny actually, I was going to delete my listing until I saw your message.” Azriel confesses softly, dragging his fingers down her ribs

Her eyebrows lift, “Really? Why?”

“Hm, really,” He nods, “There was no one who caught my eye until you.”

“I find that difficult to believe.” Elain shakes her head, catching his hand in her own and stilling it over the flat of her belly.

“Ah, here’s that humility again,” Azriel says, “You were sincere where the others weren’t. It made me want to take care of you.”

“Oh.” Elain is grateful he can’t see the rush of scarlett on her cheeks. There is a foolish, painfully naive part of her that wants to ask him if he wants to continue to take care of her. She knows it’s a stupid thought, that it’s just the afterglow of sex turning her brain into mush.

Still, it is a nice thought—no matter how silly.

“Now for my question.”

“Your question?”

“Why were you are the site?”

Elain rolls her lips, and, “You know why.”

“Hmm.” Azriel hums

“I uh,” She winces and softly shakes her head, “Do we have to talk about it?”

He tightens his hold on her, “Of course not, I’m sorry for making you uncomfortable.”

“You didn’t,” Elain amends quickly, “I’m sorry, I don’t want things to be awkward.”

“Elain,” Azriel murmurs and raises a hand to her throat, finger tracing her velvet soft skin, “Don’t apologize to me for something like that. It’s okay, I don’t feel awkward. Do you?”

“No.” She says gently, “I don’t.”

“See, no harm.” He states simply and that was that. He didn’t bring up the website again, directing their conversation to something lighter before they both slipped off to sleep.

+

The following days were flush with copious amounts of sex, cuddling, food, and more sex. Elain couldn’t keep track of how many times Azriel had taken her over the edge with his mouth, his fingers, his cock. All she knew it that she was completely, and utterly ruined by it all.

He doted on her relentlessly, he asked her questions with a geniune desire to know her, he talked her through it and never made her feel small or stupid or silly.

She wished she had someone like him to help her through her own cycle. She imagined he would be just as wonderful but that was wishful thinking that needed to be nipped before it bloomed into a dangerous dream.

Elain watches the quiet rise and fall of Azriel’s chest as he sleeps beside her, those dark curls falling over his eyes. She tried, and failed not to be mesmerized by the shadows casted from his long, dark eyelashes.

It was nearing midnight, meaning that in the morning, Azriel’s cycle would officially be over and she would be gone from his life. He had been gaining some clarity from the haze of his cycle in the past couple of hours, only needing to take her once before he fell into a heavy sleep.

Elain had read that alphas tended to sleep for a long stretch after completing their last knot of their cycle. She supposes it makes sense, considering the sheer amount of energy Azriel had depleted during the past week.

There was a strange ache in her chest at the thought of tomorrow, of waking up to into a uncomfortable slip of normalcy and awkward goodbyes.

She had to leave first.

To protect her own feelings. To protect needy, lovesick omega that had been spoiled rotten that lived inside her. To save them both from any strained interactions and empty promises of meeting again.

Elain glances up at his face, eyes tracing every beautiful line and committing it to memory. For a foolish moment, she considers running her fingers across his brow, just to touch his skin one last time.

She decided against it.

Instead she lies there, staring at him with something like gratitude blooming through her. For the first time in her life, she was glad to be an omega. She was glad to have experienced something so vulnerable and perhaps, even beautiful with a man who looked at her like he understood her. For the first time in her life, she was thankful for her biology, for it was what brought her to Azriel.

Elain smiles softly, leaning in ever so slightly and murmurs quietly, “Thank you Azriel.”

+

He wakes the next morning with a heaviness in his bones and a persistent need for more sleep. There is no burn in his throat, no discomfort in his scent glands, no consuming need in his belly—all signs that his rut was truly over. Azriel stretches out a seeking hand, hoping to find the soft skin of his omega but coming up short.

He lifts, a frown pulling on his mouth at the empty space in his bed. The spot where Elain should be was empty, the sheets cool. Her scent, thankfully, lingers on her pillow and like a siren song, Azriel can’t help but bury his nose in it. He inhales her sweet jasmine, the heady honey and finds himself growing hard.

Azriel huffs, a smile pullling at his mouth. Nevermind the fact he spent his entire rut with her, he wanted her—he needed her.

He drags himself up from bed and pulls on his boxers, eager to find Elain. He follows the faint wisps of her scent into the kitchen, where he finds a pot of fresh black coffee ready for him and a plate of blueberry cream muffins on his island.

Did she bake these? Azriel picks up the pastry from the plate, warm in his hand and entirely too enticing.

Could she be anymore perfect?

“Elain?” Azriel calls out, putting the muffin down and scanning the kitchen. Everything was pristine, there was no trace of her in here—save the muffins and coffee.

He searches the rest of his house, only finding empty rooms. His frown returns as the realization slowly, surely comes over him.

She left.

She was gone.

If not for the residual hints of her sweet scent, it was like she was never even here at all. Azriel finds himself in the kitchen once more, hoping to find a note, a phone number, something that showed this was not just a one-time thing.

Yet, nothing.

A sinking feeling of disappointment, of doubt nestled into his ribs. He wanted to wake up to her in the morning, he had planned on asking her on a proper date—he had wanted to…to…know her. To be a fixture in her life instead of a passersby. He wanted to tell her that he never felt more comfortable, more content in his entire life than he had with her this past week. He wanted to tell her that he truly, wholly, utterly found her beautiful.

But she was gone.

And so were those foolish notions.

Just gone.

Gone.

Gone.

Gone.

Chapter Text

Five thousand dollars.

Elain could not tear her eyes from her phone, from her current bank statement.

Five thousand dollars.

It was more money than she ever had at a given time. She knows that it was a small, insignificant amount compared to what others made but she had been pinching pennies since she was six years old. So five thousand dollars seemed outlandish, seemed grand to someone like her.

She waits, waits for the wash of relief she thought would surely overtake her. It never comes.

The guilt, however, takes root somewhere deep inside her. It branches out and up and threatens to strangle her breathless.

Elain locks her phone, tossing it far away and buries herself under her sheets—a futile attempt to hide from her roaring, unrelenting thoughts.

She feels terrible.

Like she doesn’t deserve any of it.

The money, the pleasure, the kindness…him.

Elain didn’t even want the money anymore, didn’t want the reminder of what she had done and how, perhaps, cruelly she had left.

At the time, slipping out just after dawn’s first light seemed like the smart choice. She thought she was being kind, to both of them. Now, she wasn’t so sure.

Nesta always said she was a chronic overthinker, a people pleaser to the boot. While all that may be true, she just couldn’t stand the thought of hurting someone’s feelings and right now, she has the sense that maybe, she might’ve hurt Azriel’s.

Her mind works through different ways she could somehow rectify the situation without making things awkward…or worse. She figured he probably didn’t want to see her again, given the way she so coldly left him but she had to do something.

She could give some of it back.

Elain pushes her sheets away and sits up, grabbing her planner from her nightstand. She flips it open to the pages dedicated to her finances and goes over the numbers.

Yes, she could return half.

It might suck a little, but she’d still be able to cover her most essential expenses. The frivolous plans she had for the remaining money would definitely not happen but Elain decides that it was well worth it.

This small opportunity to make things right.

The next morning, Elain got up early and went to the bank. She withdrew half of the money, ignoring the curious look from the teller and took the bus to the part of the city she swore she’d avoid.

Retracing her steps, she finds herself back in his neighborhood, back at his door. It feels odd to be starting at the rich shade of cobalt painted on the wood. The omega inside stirs with interest, imagining what it would be like if he were to open the door and take her right then and there as punishment for leaving.

Elain immediately tampers down the swell of arosual in her belly, swallowing hard. Now is not the time for that. There would never be a time for that. It was silly to imagine something that wouldn’t ever happen again.

She quickly slips the envelope through the mail slot in his door and basically sprints down the stone steps back onto the street.

Elain spares one last glance at Azriel’s home, at the dark blue door and feels some sort of closure finally wash over.

It was well and over then. She could move past this, move on with her life and carry those precious memories of they time together with happiness instead of turmoil.

And just maybe, she could start to make peace with being omega.

+

Today was shit, his mood was shit, everything was shit.

Azriel puts the code in for his front door and pushes inside the waiting darkness with a grunt. He was in desperate need of a shower and something that would burn the irritation out of his chest. He tosses his keys and backpack to the side, turning to flick the lights on.

He zeros in on his bar cart, grabbing a glass and pouring his favorite whisky with a heavy hand.  Azriel takes a long pull, enjoying the trail of fire the liquid left down his throat and slumps against the wall.

There was a minor setback with his program update which meant there would be a delay with it’s launch. It wasn’t a world ending sort of thing but with the way things had been going for him lately, it kinda felt like it.

After his rut ended, Azriel had thrown himself back into his project. He put in outrageous hours in his office, staying so late that he had fallen asleep at his desk a number of times. It was almost therapeutic to be so locked onto one thing, it served as a good distraction from other things. From other people—a person to be more exact.

He sighs, taking another, less dramatic drink from his whiskey and his eyes catch on something pink on the floor in front of his door. Azriel pushes off the wall and leans down to grab the envelope, eyeing it with curiosity.

It wasn’t addressed to him but it was no mistake that it was for him. Azriel sets his drink down and opens it with careful fingers.

His breath stutters in his chest, blinking rapidly at the check in his fingers. It was made out to him, although without his last name—for twenty-five hundred.

He knows immediately it is from Elain.

A prickle of anger runs through him as he stared down at that little slip of paper in his scarred fingers. Did she find him that repulsive—their time together that terrible that she returned half of her money? Was she so desperate to erase any reminder of it to the point she couldn’t stand to see that money in her account?

Azriel knew she needed the money. That’s why she was on the website in the first place and now, this—this slap in the face.

He would not stand for it.

Azriel rips the check to shreds, letting the small pieces of paper fall to the ground like confetti and he swallows the rest of his drink down.

+

Elain hums to herself, grabbing a few stems of snapdragons and eucalyptus from her table as she arranges her next order. There was something therapeutic about working in the flower shop, it was both creative and calming—she always felt centered here. Like she could hear no other sound in the world except the gentle rustling of flowers as she put in them their vases.

This particular order made her smile, it was from a wife to her husband. She had requested the attached card to say “You deserve flowers too.”

A thread of longing tugs on her, orders like these were Elain’s absolute favorite. The ones without reason or celebrations, just simply because the giver wanted to. She hoped maybe one day, she would love and be loved in a similar capacity. That someone would do something sweet or thoughtful for her just because.

Her love life, however, was absolutely tragic.

Elain placed the blame mostly on herself. Since finding out she was a tried and true omega, she all but banished the mere idea of dating or relationships until she got comfortable with her biology.

She had declined offers and set ups from her friends, never having any trouble finding excuse. Elain was just…not ready for any of it, not until maybe the right person came along but still, she wasn’t sure that would sway her from her nervousness.

The small bell in front of the door chimes, alerting her of customers.

“One sec!” Elain calls out, hurrying to the sink to rinse her hands off. She quickly dries them before adjusting her apron and walking back into the front of the store.

She stops.

Words dying in her throat as she takes in the tall man at the counter.

Alpha, alpha, alpha.

The omega inside her absolutely preens, flooding her with memories of his fingers, his mouth, his…

Elain swallows.

“Hi.”

Azriel looks down at her, and god, he’s so handsome—so stupidly tall and broad. Elain feels like she could puddle at his feet, she grips the counter for support.

“Hello Elain.”

She fights the urge to close her eyes at the deep timbre of his voice, knuckles turning white.

He turns away from her, thankfully, giving her a chance to catch her breath as he inspects the premade bouquets.

“Is there anything you need?” Elain says, trying to keep the nervous warble out of her voice, “Are you looking for flowers? I can make something up for you.”

Azriel reaches out, his fingers brushing the silky petal of a peony, “Why did you give back the money Elain?”

She presses her lips together, cheeks hot, “I…um…

“Was your time with me unsatisfactory?” He says, eyes still fixed on the flowers.

“N-no!” Elain shakes her head, “No, I just-

“Did I do something to upset you?”

“Of course not.”

Azriel finally faces her once more, he approaches the counter with slow, measured steps and slides an envelope across the glass top.

“Then,” He says, eyes flickering up to her’s, “You should have no problems accepting this.”

“Az-

It was too late, he had disappeared out the door as quickly as he came in. Elain blinks, positively thrown from the interaction. She looksu down at the envelope on the counter and quickly opens it.

“You’re kidding me.” Elain whispers with shock, “He’s insane. He’s out of his mind.”

In her hand was a check for ten grand and he handed it to her like it was ten dollars.

Her head snaps up, remembering that he just handed her the money and left like it was nothing. Elain stuffs the check back into the envelope and takes out the door, barely remembering to lock it behind her.

She looks to her left and then to her right to see him disappearing around a corner. Elain chases after him—damn those long legs and that long stride of his!

Finally—finally, Elain catches up to him, grabbing his elbow, “You…you…

Azriel looks down at her like he’s trying not to smile. Oh the nerve, oh the actual audacity. Elain tries to hand him the envelope but he dodges her, causing her to stumble just a bit, “You can’t possibly give me this! Are you insane?”

“You’re right, I should give you more.” He says simply

Elain sputters, “More?”

He shrugs.

Just how well off is he? Five thousand was one thing, ten thousand is another and threatening to hand her over even more was on a completely different dimension.

“Look, I’m just trying to do what’s right okay?” Elain says, thrusting the envelope into his chest, “Can’t you just accept it?”

“Why did you give me the money back?” Azriel takes a step back, not taking the money envelope.

“I-I don’t know, it just felt wrong to take it.” Elain explains lamely

“How could feel wrong? It was our agreement.”

“I know but…

“But what?”

Elain sighs, shoulders drooping and suddenly she feels exhausted, like she’s been running on fumes since she left Azriel’s home and now she’s sputtering out.

He frowns at her, like he knows, and takes her elbow, “Come on.”

Elain lets him lead her back to the shop without any kick back, she unlocks the door and sits down at the chair behind the counter.

“Elain.”

She puts her face in her hands, resting her elbows in the table and, “I’m sorry.”

“Sorry?” Azriel repeats

She nods, not lifting her face, “I’m sorry. I don’t think I should’ve left that morning but I thought I was doing us a favor.”

“Why is that?”

“Well, I guess, I don’t know, to like avoid an awkward morning after. I just didn’t want to wake up and things be weird so I left instead. Then it started to eat at me and I felt really guilty about everything so I thought that maybe returning some of the money would rectify the situation.”

Elain peeks through her fingers at him, his gaze softens at her.

“You just really took care of me during it all and I felt wrong about taking all the money. I’m sorry I didn’t return it all.”

“Elain,” Her name is an exasperated sigh on his lips, “I don’t want the money.”

She lifts from the counter, “Okay, I’m sorry. I just don’t know how to…I don’t know, return your kindness.”

“My kindness?” Azriel tilts his head, “I don’t think I didn’t anything exceptional Elain. I just treated you as an alpha should during a rut.”

“I know but,” Elain shifts, “It just felt…different for me.”

His dark brows pull together in a soft divet, her fingers ache to reach up and smooth the wrinkle away. Her fingers ache to do a lot of things to him actually, she would love to weave them through the thick of his hair or trace the line of his shoulders to the ridges of his abdomen. Most of all, she would love to pull him close so she could bury her nose in the slope of his neck and inhale his scent.

“I know how you can repay me.”

Elain hides her hands behind her back, clasping them together tight to stop herself from giving into those silly, silly thoughts of her’s.

“How?”

Azriel comes forward, resting his palms on the counter and leaning into her. Her mind goes blank at the cedar and mist that wraps around her in the gentlest of embraces.

I would do anything. Elain realizes, with a little fear—a little shock, I would do everything for you. Just don’t walk away from me.

“Let me take care of you.”

+

Azriel wasn’t exactly sure what his plan was when he found out the locations of Elain’s different jobs. He was running purely on his desire to see her again.

He knew that he wanted to give her the money back, and he knew that it felt like he might just die if he didn’t see those doe eyes look up at him once more.

Writing the check for ten grand was for his own enjoyment. Azriel was certain that Elain would immediately reject the money but it amused him to think of her lovely face turning red with shock—although a large, alpha-dominat part of him would be pleased to see her accept the money. Ten thousand dollars was merely pocket change to him anyway.

It was strange for him to be diving in head first like this. To let his emotions guide him so easily. Azriel was born a planner, he was concise and intentional. He never did anything without thinking about it. He liked to be in control, found an enormous amount of comfort it in but…

But Elain has driven him to impulsiveness it seems.

“Let me take care of you.”

Her soft mouth parts at his words, those impossibly long, sooty lashes blinking like she’s trying to make sense of what he’s saying.

Even Azriel wasn’t a hundred percent sure what he had meant by that but he imagines he would do whatever meaning Elain put to the words. She scrapes her teeth against her lush bottom lip and Azriel’s hand fists at his side, holding back the urge to put his thumb there instead.

“You want to…take care of me?” Elain repeats slowly

Azriel nods gently.

“Like be cycle partners? Like what you had before?” She asks

He considers it. Having a partner again would definitely be ideal but the thought of only seeing her every few months makes his chest ache.

“More than that.” Azriel says, his can’t help but move his hand closer to her’s—to brush his pinky against her’s, “Whatever you want to give me.”

Elain swallows, eyes flickering to his lips. He shifts a little closer to her.

“I…” A delicious pink flush rises on her throat, Azriel would draw blood to have the opportunity to taste that soft skin, to breath in her intoxicating scent. The alpha inside of him begs to be closer to her, to claim and mate and take and take and take.

She tries to right herself but Azriel can see her pulse jump in her throat and he knows, he knows that she wants him too.

“Can I think about it…” Elain asks, “What it is I want.”

He nods, “Of course, take all the time you need. I’m sorry for dropping all this on you all the sudden.”

“No,” She shakes her head, her lose chestnut curls brushing against her cheeks, “Please don’t say you’re sorry.”

She grabs a pen and a slip of paper, sliding it across the counter to him, “Your number?”

Azriel writes down his information and passes it back to her. She picks it up, studying it, “Are you…are you okay?”

Elain looks up at him, a shy smile blooming across her face, “Yeah, Azriel, I’m okay. I promise. I just wasn’t expecting any of this.”

“Yeah.”

“B-but it doesn’t mean that it’s unwelcome. It’s really good to see you. I—um I’ve been thinking about you.”

Azriel tries not to fall at her feet. She’s just so inconceivably soft, so sweet and so good. All at once he wants to tuck her into his arms, bring her into his chest and shield her from every bad thing in this world—from everything that would seek to ruin her.

“I’ve been thinking about you too, Elain. It’s hard not too.” He murmurs softly

Her smile grows brighter, if all possible and, “I’m sure that’s not at all true.”

“I’m no liar.” Azriel can’t help but grin back at her, his eyes catch on the clock on the wall behind her, “Shit, I’ve got a meeting in thirty.”

“Oh, that’s okay, I need to get back to work anyway.” Elain says, tucking a curl behind her ear, “It was good seeing you again. I promise I’ll call soon.”

“I’ll be waiting. In the meantime, hold on to this for me.” He slides the envelope with the check back to her, and before she can even register it, he’s out the door and down the street.

Elain stares after him, knowing that there’s probably no chance of her catching up to him with the money even if she tried. She has the feeling that the only reason she caught him before is because he wanted her to.

She pushes the envelope aside, and picks up the paper with his information on it instead. Her eyes trace over the neat, straight lines of her penmanship.

Azriel Rosehall.

And she smiles.

Chapter Text

“He wants to take care of you?”

Elain nods and Cerridwen cocks her head, as if considering the proposition. She gives an exasperated chuckle before taking a hearty mouthful of the cheap rosé Nuala brought home.

“So he wants to be your sugar daddy then?”

Elain nearly chokes on her wine, needing a few hardy pats on the back from Nuala to recover.

“Oh my god, it’s not like that-

“It’s exactly like that.” Cerr interjects, “Lucky bitch.”

Nuala throws her head back with laughter, Elain shoots her a playful glare…traitor.

“So like, are you going to do it?” Cerr asks, leaning in to grab a cube of cheese from their rudimentary charcuterie board.

Elain sighs, “I want to but he wants me to take the lead. He never put a true definition of what it means to ‘take care of you’.”

“I mean that’s good right?” Nuala pops in, “He’s letting you set the rules.”

“Yeah, so basically you can tell him to buy you pretty things and give you orgasms.” Cerr smirks

“God.” Elain slaps her hands over her face and falls back into her chair, “Do you even have a filter?”

“The rosé has a special way of making it disappear,” She swirls her glass as if to emphasize her point and, “Seriously girl, you need to find out what you want from him.”

“I don’t even know. Like I don’t want him to buy me things but I do enjoy his company-

“And the orgasms.”

“Okay. Sure. Yes. But I’m just afraid what this might turn into. Like I’m afraid of getting attached and what if he’s not on board with that? I don’t even think I’m ready for any of that either.”

“So set your boundaries. Let him take care of you and all of that but if it goes too far or makes you uncomfortable, just say so.” Nuala says like it’s the easiest thing in the world, “Remember, he is letting you set the standard for a reason.”

Cerr nods in agreement, reaching over to top of Elain’s glass.

“I just…I mean, I would feel weird if he bought me things.” Elain admits, “Or spent money on me or-

“Or causally gave you a check for ten grand?” Cerr adds

“God, doesn’t it sound insane to you?” Elain feels a little incredulous, like she’s the only one who finds this all crazy.

Nuala and Cerrdiwen share a look before they shake their heads.

“No.”

“Hell no.”

“Sounds like a dream to me.”

“Me too. I’m really trying hard not to feel jealous right now.”

Elain shoots them a look.

“Okay, okay.” Nuala holds her hands up, her bangles clanging together, “Let’s cut the shit here.”

“I know this all seems unreal,” She continues gently, “But Elain, have you ever stopped and considered the very true possibility that you deserve to have something like this?”

“I-

“You’ve been alone in this city for two years Elain. Your sisters are halfway around the world, you’ve been been working more than two jobs on top of school since we’ve known you. Don’t you think it’s time to let someone take care of you?”

+

Elain lays in bed, starting up at the shadows on the ceiling and she thinks of Azriel.

She thinks of his dark curls falling just right across his brow, she thinks of the strong line of his jaw, of the scars that twine around his big hands and how the streaks of gold and green in his eyes remind her of sunlight filtering through a forest.

She thinks of how gentle he was with her during his cycle, and how she wished had someone who would care for her like that.

Don’t you think it’s time to let someone take care of you?

Elain curls up to her side, pulling her duvet over her shoulders.

Truth is, she wanted that.

She wanted it more than anything.

Elain knew when she moved to the city that she was going to be on her own. She knew that chasing her dreams also came with its own hardships but she never imagined the splitting chasm of loneliness that lived in her.

Especially when she found out that she was,  indeed, an omega.

The remembers the feeling of utter despair that struck her when she received her diagnosis. The isolation and the fear and the confusion. It was like she was uprooted and replanted in a smaller, uncomfortable pot. Like she still have to contiune to grow even it thought it didn’t feel right anymore.

Elain didn’t want to burden her sisters with her problems—not when they were both finding their own paths in the world. She couldn’t possibly burden them with her own struggles with they were achieving the happiness the three of them all desperately sought after.

The twins tried, they really did, but everyone who wasn’t born wealthy or had a hefty bank account struggled in the city and Elain wasn’t going to make her biology their problem. It wasn’t fair.

So Elain was alone in this.

And god, her first heat was…it was…

Tears, hot and unwelcome, well in her eyes. Elain forcefully pushes those memories away, locks them away the the deepest vault of her mind. Thinking of it would do her no good, it would bring her nothing but pain and anxiety.

She wipes at her eyes with the back of her hands before reaching for her phone. Elain takes in her bottom lip, thinking…thinking…thinking…

And she quickly types out her message and sends it before she loses her nerve.

Hi, it’s Elain. Are you up?

She cringes at her own wording, getting a strange sense of deja vu. It feels like she’s back on her laptop, messaging Colbalt1993 for the very first time.

Within a few minutes, her phone buzzes and Elain snatches it up, bringing it close to her face.

Hello Elain. I am.

She exhales slowly. Okay, she can do this. Just press call. It’s an easy as one…two…three…

Elain squeezes her eyes shut and taps the phone icon, heart in her throat as it starts to ring.

He picks up almost immediately.

“Hello.”

Her inner omega basically sighs at the sound of his voice, lulled to a quiet submission by it.

“Hi.” Elain’s voice is soft, even to her own ears, “Sorry for calling so late.”

“It’s fine. I’m at the office anyway.” Azriel says

Elain raises up, glancing back at her alarm clock. 1:23 AM.

“You’re at work? But it’s so late, you should be in bed.” She know she shouldn’t be fussing over him like this but she can’t help it. It seems a little extreme for him to be working into late hours of the night like this.

He chuckles.

Her toes curl at the rich, smooth sound. She melts into her mattress at it, heart stutters because of it.

“I know, I’m trying to get my project ready before our projected deadline.” Azriel explains, “There’s been a few setbacks that demand my presence.”

“Oh.” Elain says, “But still, you need your sleep.”

“So do you.” He replies, “Should I fuss over you being up too?”

“Well no I just…” Elain feels her face grow hot, “I was just thinking about everything.”

“Yeah?” He hums

“Yeah.” She nods, fingers pulling at her sheets, “Can we meet up somewhere to talk about it?”

“Of course.” Azriel says, “What works for you?”

“Well, it sounds like you’re the one on a tight schedule.”

“I can rearrange.”

“You shouldn’t-

“If it means I can see you sooner, then I will.”

Elain’s eyes flutter shut at his perfect words. How does right now sound? She thinks, even though it’s a silly notion. There is something appealing about the thought—about him dropping everything to come meet her past midnight.

The omega inside her agrees with a startling degree of adamance.

She wonders what he would do, if he slipped into her apartment. If he saw the little tank top and panties she was wearing. She wonders just how good he would take care of her then.

The area between her legs begins to pulse with insistence. Elain presses her thighs together tight, trying to relieve the ache there.

She bet he wouldn’t waste anytime. That he’d pick her up in those big arms and ruin her so thoroughly and completely that she’d never walk again from him again.

He would probably give her his knot if she asked sweetly.

And she would get on her knees and beg.

“Elain?”

“Oh,” Elain winces at the husk in her voice and clears her throat, “Sorry, um, I-I think the call lagged.”

“Hmm.” Azriel definitely does not believe that for a moment, “A time then?”

“Tomorrow,” She’s quick to answer, “I have the morning off, if that’s okay will you?”

“I can make that work,” He agrees, “Do you have a preference on where we should meet?”

“We can meet a your’s?” Elain suggests and immediately regrets it. It would be entirely too tempting to be at his home again, with access to his bed, to privacy, to him. The throbbing in her lower belly grows unrelenting.

She slides her palm down her stomach, fingertips just brushing the scalloped edge of her panties. Elain knows that if she were to venture any further, she would find wetness there.

“Sure. How does ten sound?”

“Great.” Elain wants so badly to alleviate the ache inside of her, the pressing need that demands she thrust her hand inside her panties and make herself come to his voice.

“I’ll see you then.”

“Okay,” Elain breathes, half wanting to keep him on the phone so she can listen to his voice—to the quiet sounds of his exhales. The other half is eager to hang up so she can take care of herself, “Try to go home soon.”

“Of course,” Azriel says and, “Goodnight Elain.”

“Goodnight Azriel.”

Elain lets out a small whimper when the call ends, hand delving into her panties. She screws her eyes shut at the wetness she finds there.

And she tries, she really tries to replicate the rhythm—the fluid motion of Azriel’s clever fingers but it just wasn’t right.

It wasn’t enough.

She feels like she’s on the edge of the cliff she so badly wants to tumble over but she can’t get herself there. Elain nearly cries in frustration, her wrist seizing up.

She withdraws her hand, slick fingers clenching into a fist as she wills herself to settle down.

To think of him.

Elain imagines what it would be like if she called him. If she told him that she can’t finish because he’s not the one bringing her over the edge.

She imagines he would chuckle, dark and throaty. He would reassure her, take pity on her.

He would talk her through it.

Yes. He would.

“Relax” She can almost hear his voice lower, “Let me take care of you.”

He would tell her to slow down, to find the rhythm that would make her hips arch from the bed. So she does.

He would tell her to add a finger, to stretch herself out—just like she would need to so he would fit inside her. So she does.

He would string filthy praises together in a soft whisper, telling her what a good little omega she is. Telling her that the next time he sees her, he’ll give her exactly what she needs. Fill her up so full that she can would barely be able to find her breath.

He would tell her to come for him.

So she does.

+

Azriel wipes the sweat from his face with the bottom of his shirt, his muscles burning after the hour he spent furiously working them in his gym.

He pauses his workout playlist on his phone and eyes the clock. He has enough time to shower before Elain arrives. There is a thread of longing that pulls tight inside him, one that he can’t blame entirely on his biological instinct. He just…wants to see her again.

Azriel quickly sheds his clothes and steps into his bathroom, eager for the warm water to soothe the soreness in his shoulders and back. He turns on the shower, tilting his head back and letting the water cascade around him.

His eyes close, and he thinks of her.

Azriel imagines what she should do if she came here and found him in the shower. She would probably stand there with those soft lips parted, her eyes tracing the rivulets of water falling down his chest.

Her face would turn that lovely, endearing shade of pink and she would mutter out a soft apology.

Half embarrassed, and so so sweet.

Elain would try to excuse herself but he wouldn’t let her go. No. He’d catch her wrist and pull her in the shower with him.

He push her dress up her thighs and-

And his cock swells between his legs. Azriel swallows, running a hand over his face and wills himself to calm down. As much as he would love to take his hand to his length and let this particular fantasy play out, he just didn’t have the time.

Staying so late at the office last night threw his whole morning off. He knows he should’ve went home after Elain ended their call but he wasn’t satisfied with his progress just yet so he stayed another two hours. He had dragged himself home, barely remembering to set an alarm before letting sleep take him.

Azriel finishes up quickly in the bathroom and gets dressed, he glances down at his watch. 9:45. Perfect timing. He tries to sit down on the couch and read through his emails but every noise outside causes him to jerk with anticipation. So he settles with pacing through the kitchen, dining room, and living room in a nervous loop.

Then, finally, he hears a slight knock on the door.

Azriel exhales, squaring his shoulders before walking to his door. He rests his hand on the handle, trying to settle the eager thump, thump, thump of his heartbeat before opening it.

Sunlight and her.

They are one in the same as far as Azriel was concerned.

His hand tightens on the handle at the sight of Elain filling his doorframe and god—how utterly beautiful she looks with that shy little smile and her long hair falling into gentle curls at her waist and that pretty pink dress that skims her upper thighs.

The alpha inside him devours the sight of her and fills him with a need so overwhelming that Azriel has to stop himself from reaching out to touch and feel and take.

“Good morning.” She greets him as he steps aside to let her in.

“Good morning Elain.” Azriel says back, so very pleased to see her inside his house again. Where she belongs.

“I got you coffee.” Elain offers him the takeout cup, “Black as you alpha-types require.”

Azriel pokes the inside of his cheek with tongue to keep from grinning down at her like a complete idiot.

“You didn’t have to get me coffee.” He says but accepts the anyway.

“I also made some scones last night.” She holds up a small box, “I figured you might need something sweet to go with your coffee.”

“Aren’t I supposed to be the one taking care of you?” Azriel says, taking the box as well and setting them down on his kitchen island

Her cheeks tinge pink, “Well, I just wanted to make sure you were fed. Especially since you had such a late night.”

Warmth floods his very bones and Azriel has to take a moment because when was the last time someone worried over him? He couldn’t name a time in recent memory. His mother was most likely the last and she died many years ago.

He swallows and turns back to her, “Thank you.”

“Of course.” And she waves a dismissive hand like it’s no big deal at all and steps into his kitchen. She lays a palm flat on the island, “You have a lovely kitchen, do you cook often?”

Azriel jams his hands into his pocket to keep from reaching for her, “When I can.”

“Hmm,” Elain considers it, “I bet you’re one of those sneaky good cooks. Like you could just randomly throw something together and it’d be the best thing ever.”

He huffs out a chuckle, “Are you insinuating that I should cook for you Elain?”

“You did say you wanted to take care of me.” She shoots him a playful grin, “What better way than that?”

“I can think of a few.” Azriel replies with a shrug

The blush on her face deepens and she presses her lips together, “I’m sure you could.”

He steps close to her, pressing her back into the counter and bracketing her with his arms. A gasp—so sweet and soft, falls from her lips as she looks up at him.

“Name your conditions then.” Azriel says gently. All he wants to do is press his face into the slope of her neck, to breath her in and taste the velvet softness of her skin.

“I-I…” She licks her lips and he tracks the movement with dark eyes, “I want to see you, often and I want to…do things with you.”

“Do things?” Azriel repeats, head tilting.

“You know. Don’t tease me.”

“I would never.”

And he can smell it, the sweet-sharpness of her arousal that makes her scent deeper and darker and more delicious. His eyes nearly roll back.

“And you can buy me things but n-nothing ridiculous or too expensive. Maybe you could, um, like, foot my grocery bill every now or then or buy me a coffee.” She looks down, so lovely and so, so bashful.

“I plan on buying all your groceries, and all your coffee and maybe just one or two ridiculous things.” Azriel tells her, leaning in closer to her—her mouth only a whisper away from his

“And we’ll help each other through our cycles?”

“Of course.”

“Okay,” She breathes, eyes flickering down to his lips, “What are your’s?”

His brows pull together, “My what?”

“Your conditions?” Elain says

“You.” Is his immediate answer, “My only condition is you.”

+

Azriel kisses like he’s in love.

With slow, deliberate movements, his tongue tasting and teasing and his hands carding through the thick of her curls. His teeth just barely scrape against her bottom lip and Elain nearly crumbles against him.

This was different from how he claimed her during his rut. That was urgent and needing, pleasure overtaking her fast and unrelenting. Like he was afraid she’d slip through his fingers if he didn’t give himself to her completely.

This is a slow dance, like he wants to savor every touch. Like he wants to draw it out until she see stars. Like he missed her.

And Elain feels a bit sorry for anyone he’s kissed like this because she knows that this is the sort of kiss that lingered and haunted and stayed. The kind of kiss that you’d long for time and time again. The kind of kiss that brought you to your knees.

“When do you have to go?” Azriel is breathless, his thumb tracing a line against her lips

“Noon, I think.” She really can’t remember, she has been kissed silly—her mind in a cedar and mist haze.

“Perfect.” He smirks and sinks to his knees

“Az…” Elain stumbles over his name as he curls his long fingers around her leg, placing his mouth against her calf…the crest of her knee…the inside of her thigh.

“Just like this.” He says against her skin, lifting her knee so it rests on the meat of his shoulder, “I’ve dreamed of you just like this.”

The omega that lives inside her absolutely preens at his words. How lovely it is to be dreamed of, to be the center of this perfect alpha’s attentions and affection. Need to be his forever.

Arousal pools thick and heavy in her belly, slick collecting between her thighs as his mouth barely skims the lace of her panties. He inhales the divine scent of her as his fingers hook the flimsy fabric and pulls down and off.

Elain vaguely thinks she should be embarrassed that he’s so close to her most intimate place but quickly chastises herself. He spent a good portion of his rut with his face in between her legs.

He licks her, using the flat of his tongue to taste all of her in one swoop and Elain throws her head back with a stifled cry.

“So sweet.” He murmurs, his fingers tightening on her thigh, “So fucking-

He fastens his lips on the bud of her cilt, causing her hips to cant against his face. Elain tries stutter out an apology but it is cut off by the clever, precise motions of his mouth against her. She leans back, eyes screwing shut as her omega begs for her to give into instinct—to take what her alpha is so graciously offering.

She places a soft hand against his head and she twines her fingers in his hair.

Azriel groans.

And it is such a desperate, satisfied sound that causes her to pull at his curls once more.

A shudder runs through him and he looks up at her with dark, dark eyes, “Take it then.”

“T-take what?” Elain feels like she is a loose thread, like someone is pulling and pulling and pulling until she comes undone, until she makes a mess of herself.

“This.” Azriel moves her so she is practically sitting on his face, her arms fly out to brace herself on the counter as he presses her down onto his mouth.

Elain cries out as he licks and sucks and moves her so that she is grinding against his face. She follows his motions until she falls into her own, setting a rhythm that makes her back arch. Azriel takes everything from her with earnest, like he can’t get enough—like he can’t help but be greedy.

Each stroke of his tongue brings her closer, brings her higher. It should be startling how well he already knows her body, how he has her mapped out by memory and can give her exactly what she needs.

She falls apart above him.

Elain cries out, her legs trembling as she coasts through the waves of her peak. She nearly loses her footing and tumbles over but he is there, holding her close and, “You’re so pretty when you come for me Elain, so goddamn beautiful.”

She clings to him, fingers twisting his shirt as she tries to catch her breath. Azriel smooths his hand over the crown of her head, eyes never straying from her face.

Elain tilts her head up, wanting to kiss him very badly but there is still some shyness that lingers within her. Azriel looks down at her, like he knows, and presses his mouth against her’s.

She melts into him, into the soft kiss, and she is pleased to taste herself on his tongue—in a very omega sort of way. He pulls back slightly, looking down at her with hooded eyes and Elain feels another surge of want pulse through her.

“What are your plans for today?” Azriel asks, his palm cupping her throat. His thumb circles her scent gland, causing a shiver to run up her spine.

“Work,” Elain says, voice a little rough, “I have a shift at the café then I’m closing down the flower shop.”

A frown twitches on the corner of his mouth and she feels herself sink—is alpha not pleased?

“So busy.” Azriel sighs, “You can quit your jobs if you want.”

An exasperated laugh bubbles from her lips, and she shakes her head with disbelief, “Azriel, remember when I said not to be ridiculous?”

And he does the most adorable, charming thing Elain has ever seen. This big, strong alpha pouts.

She brings her hand to her mouth to hide her giggle.

“I know but I don’t want you to be overworked.” He says, taking her hand and placing a kiss against her knuckles

Elain tries not to fall to pieces at the simple gesture, it was so intimate and sweet and, ap“What if I stick to working one job a day? Would that make it better.”

He considers it for a moment, this nods, “That is a start.”

Elain dimples at him. How perfectly sullen.

Azriel tilts his head to the clock on his oven, his mouth pulls into the tiniest of smirks before looking back down at her, “I have plenty of time.”

“Time?” Elain repeats, “Time do to what?”

“To make you come again, and again, and maybe once more after that.” Azriel presses another kiss against the inside of her wrist

Heat blossoms through her, fanning the embers he left behind from her last peak. Her mouth opens, then promptly closes again as she struggles to find a coherent response to that. He holds her hand with a gentle reverence and leads her from the kitchen, down the long corridor of his hallway, to the sanctuary of his bedroom.

There, he makes good on his word.

She comes.

And comes.

And comes.

Chapter Text

.

.

.

“The family of Briar Fallows, the missing omega from Brooklyn, are pleading with the public to send in any possibly information regarding the disappearance of the twenty-four year old.”

“Fallows was reported missing three months ago with little to no signs of why or where. Her family is adamant that foul play is at play—

Elain winces, reaching for the remote and quickly flips through the channels until she finds a baking competition show. She wasn’t exactly keen on hearing another violent incident towards one of her kind.

There had been a long string of omega reported missing in the past few years, which was enough to scare Elain from going out at night without the twins or a group of friends. It was just a natural consequence of being an omega, they made for an easy target.

Living in the city was intimidating as it is, navigating it as an omega was an entirely different, more dangerous story.

Elain pushes those thoughts away, eager to think of anything else as she stretches out on Azriel’s bed—the scent of him drawing out any lingering unease and wrapping her in comfort.

She digs her nose into his pillow, her inner omega satiated and settled as she breathes him in.

They had settled quite easily into their little arrangement, she and him. It was almost like they were made to coexist in this happy little biological bubble they had built. Elain was anticipating some sort of awkwardness, a learning curve to it but it never came.

It almost scared Elain, how easy it was to be with him. It was as natural as breathing, as seamless as floating in calm waters. It was intrinsic. It was becoming essential.

Which was a problem.

A huge problem.

One day, Azriel will wake up and decide that he has become bored of her. That he’s only kept her around for his ruts, that she’s not worth the trouble or the time he’s invested. One day, he will turn those devasting hazel eyes on her and see nothing.

It hurts to think of that moment, although Elain is certain that Azriel would be nothing but kind when he does eventually bore of her. Still, it manifests a pain that settles deep into the spaces between her ribs.

She doesn’t want to be alone. She doesn’t want to not know him.

“Surely making cupcakes isn’t that intense.”

Elain blinks, depressing train of thoughts vanishing as Azriel approaches her side of bed. Her mouth goes a little dry at the sight of his sculpted chest bared to her. Sad Elain makes a swift exit, Omega Elain is front and center now.

“Wait what?”

Azriel huffs, the corner of his mouth twitching up as he falls into bed next to her. His hand comes to rest on her thigh, giving her a slight squeeze.

“Where did you go just then?” He asks, fingers tracing lazy lines against her skin.

“Oh.” Elain worries her bottom lip with her teeth, “I was just…

Azriel turns his head slightly, his eyes catching her’s, “Just?”

“Just thinking…about things.” She finishes lamely, “Stupid, unimportant things.”

“Hmm.” He considers this, “I can’t imagine correlating stupid or unimportant with you.”

Elain puffs out a smile, “You flatter me.”

“I’m being honest.”

“Of course you are.”

Azriel rolls so that he’s rest on his stomach, giving Elain quite the eyeful of his muscled back and the tattoos that swirl over the lines of his shoulder blades down his spine and ribs.

“Truth for a truth?”

Elain bites back a grin. They’ve played this little game to better get to know one another. He’ll share something about his life and she her’s until someone cuts it off or until someone gets handsy. The latter happens more often than not.

It’s how she got to know that he grew up in Velaris. It is a small but exceedingly beautiful state tucked in between Switzerland and Austria, Elain had always wanted to go there. She had dreamed about backpacking around Europe—dreamed of the tulips in Holland, the christmas markets of Germany. Dreamed of the Illyrian mountains and the pastries in France.

Not that she could afford it, but still, it doesn’t cost anything to dream.

In return, Elain told him about her sisters and how they grew up sharing a bed and scraps of food. He shared some somber details of his own childhood, about being a bastard to a cruel man with cruel sons. Azriel never brought them up again, and she knew that some things were not easily spoken of.

It wasn’t all intimate footnotes from their lives, a lot of the times it was silly little truths and silly little quirks.

Elain told him she cries everytime she watches Little Women. In return, Azriel confessed that he read the Hobbit over and over again until the spine of the book fell apart.

Azriel admitted to having a killer sweet tooth and Elain admitted to having a deep, unconditional love for charcuterie boards.

Elain shared that Taylor Swift was and has been the top artist on Spotify for the past six years and Azriel shared that his bounces between Radiohead and a small alt-rock band from Atlanta.

“I’ll start.” Elain says and Azriel gives a nod, “I stole chocolate from the gas station when I was fourteen.”

He tsks, “You’re telling me I’ve invited a criminal into bed?”

She tosses her head back with a giggle, “In my defense I was on my period and wanted a Reese’s Cup so bad I was willing to kill someone for it.”

“Chocolate and peanut butter will do that.” Azriel’s mouth curves into a grin that sends flutters down her throat to her chest, “Okay then, “I used to be terrified of flying.”

“Really?” Elain blinks, she couldn’t imagine Azriel being afraid of anything.

“I used to look up black box recordings from plane crashes before my flights.”

“That’s….

“Morbid?”

“A little.”

Azriel gives a sigh, looking incredibly endearing with his cheek smushed against the pillow, “I eventually got over it of course, but it took me flying a couple times and banning myself from the internet to do so.”

Elain reaches over, taking her finger and dragging it over the whorls of his inked skin.

“And what about these, what do they mean?”

“Truth for a truth. You first.” Azriel reminds her with a smirk etched on that handsome face of his.

Elain thinks, finger idly tracing the lines of his tattoos and, “My older sister was voted most likely to make a grown man cry in high school.”

That shocks a burst of laughter from his chest, Azriel shakes his head—hazel eyes bright with amusement, “Nesta sounds terrifying.”

“She is.” Elain agrees, pleased that he cared to even remember her name, “But really, she’s just a bit softie and Feyre was voted most artistic.”

“Makes sense. What about you? What was your’s?”

She rolls her lips, something like embarrassment creeping up her throat, “Um, prettiest smile.”

“They’re not wrong.” Azriel says simply, fingers reaching up to trace the line of her bottom lip

“Maybe but, it’s, I don’t know…so superficial. Like the only thing I was known for what being decent looking.” Elain shrugs

“Elain, I promise you that’s not the only thing you’re known for.” Azriel says with a level of conviction that is hard to argue with then, “In Velaris, it’s law that every man serve a least two years in the military once they turn eighteen.”

She nods, listening intently.

“I had no desire to do anything with the military. My…” He struggles with the word, “My father was a high ranking general before he retired. I didn’t want to be associated with anything he did. I didn’t want to spend another moment under the shadow of his influence but I had no choice.”

“To say I enlisted with a chip on my shoulder would be an understatement. But then I met my brothers, we were in the same training camp. At first, I thought they were assholes and they shared the sentiment about me as well. But eventually after a handful of fist fights and petty arguments, we just…clicked. After that, everything became a lot easier.”

Rhysand and Cassian, Elain thinks. He always speaks so fondly about them. 

“I became very good at it. Being a soldier. One of the best. At the end of training camp, there is a competion among the cadets. We were dropped in the middle of the wilderness with nothing but the skin on our backs and expected to summit Mount Ramiel and capture the flag at it’s peak. It is a feat not easily accomplished, and not many can say they have.”

Elain winces at the brutality of it, eyes soft and apologetic. Azriel brushes a finger against the apple of her cheek and continues, “My brothers and I found each other then we fought like hell to get to reach the top of that mountain.”

“And you did.”

“And we did. We pulled the flag together. It was the first time in a ten years someone managed to do it. We got these to comemorate our victory, they’re traditional Illyrian tattoos. They represent honor, duty, respect, all that bullshit.”

Elain glances down at dark lines contrasted against his bronzed skin, “Doesn’t sound like bullshit to me. It sounds like you earned it.”

Azriel catches her eyes, “You’re right. Even though I have no love for the Illyrian forces, it taught me a lot about life. It molded me. It…lingers. That mountain changed me.”

+

Azriel’s words echo in her mind, even as the night grows dark and he falls into slumber next to her. Elain studies the perfect lines of his face in the moonlight peeking from the curtains and feels her heart give a familiar clench that feels like longing.

This man. This alpha just wants to take care of her. That’s it. That’s all he’s asked for. There are no expectations for her to do anything in return but Elain wants to. Not in the way that her omega demands but as a girl who’s starting to feel in over her head.

Elain wants to show him that she wants to take care of him too.

So she does.

Azriel has always been the one to initiate their intimacy. Somehow, he always knows when she wants him in that way—so she never has to ask, he always gives her exactly what she needs.

There is a shyness, a twist of nerves in her throat as Elain leans forward and presses her mouth to the hollow of his throat. Already—a pool of slick gathers between her thighs, her inner omega starts to thrum with anticipation.

We’ll make alpha feel so good. We’ll take such good care of him.

Azriel shifts slightly at the feel of her lips on his skin, but does not wake. His hand on the flare of her hip tightens reflexively. Elain presses another kiss lower, at his sternum. She slides down between the sheets and presses a kiss at the rigid center of his defined abdomen. She gathers her courage and places her mouth against the sharp line of his pelvic bone, the dark hair dusting a line down from his belly button brushing against her cheek.

Slowly, carefully, Elain drags her fingertips over the waistband of his boxers down to the hardening swell of his cock.

Immediately, his hand tangles in her hair, “Elain.”

She peeks up at him through long, long eyelashes, and breathes one word that makes him tilt his chin back and groan.

“Please.”

Elain leans in, mouthing the line of him through his boxers before hooking her fingers over his waistband and tugging his them down. His cock springs free, so big and hard, so ready for her to touch and taste and tease.

She licks her lips, trying hard not to be intimidated by the sheer size of him and, “Tell me what you want Azriel.”

His fist tightens in her hair, “Your mouth. I want your tongue on me.”

There is a pulse of uncertainty, of nerves that remind her that she’s never done this before. That she might be laughably bad at it but the look in Azriel’s eyes—those blown pupils, that starving desire—coaxes those thoughts away entirely.

Elain starts slowly, flattening her tongue against the base of his cock and licking a line upwards. He murmurs words of encouragement, and Elain does it again and again—focusing particularly on the underside of his length where he seems to be most sensitive.

She grows braver, and presses a kiss to the leaking head of him. Her inner omega humming with pleasure at the salty taste that gathers on her lips. Elain takes it further, licking against his silt before bringing him into her mouth and sucking.

“Fuck.” Azriel hisses, hips canting forward, “Fuck.”

She pops him out of her mouth, eyes flickering down at the trail of saliva connecting she and him before glancing up at him, “Like that?”

“Yes sweet girl, just like that.” His fingers trail against her cheek then, “I want to fuck your pretty mouth.”

Elain feels her eyes grow wide, she considers the length of him—the girth and decides it is impossible.

“I…” She feels embarrassment creep up her chest in a pink flush, “You won’t fit.”

Azriel flashes a grin at her, a picture of pure male arrogance and, “Shh, we’ll make it work won’t we?”

Yes. Yes. Yes. Her inner omega chants, anything for my alpha. everything for my alpha.

Elain nods, eyes hooked on his and she slowly takes him back in her mouth. Inch by inch, she considers the weight of him against her tongue—how her mouth becomes slick to accomate the size of him. She considers the fullness she feels, how his fingers twine and pull at her curls as she brings him further and further into her mouth until he hits the back of her throat.

She gags around him, tears springing to her eyes at the sensation. Azriel curses again, his hips jerking.

“So fucking good. Your mouth is so fucking-

Elain considers this.

And decides she likes it.

She retracts, letting her wet mouth slide against him as she pulls back. Her hand comes to rest at the base of him and she repeats the motion—a little quicker this time, more sure, more steady.

Azriel covers her hand with his own, guiding her hand in rhythm with her mouth, “This. Like this baby.”

Elain is a quick learner.

She minds her teeth and takes him a deep as she can in her throat, using her hand to cover the rest of him like he taught her.

His murmurs of dirty praise transform into labored breaths and soft moans, his hips begin moving at their own accord and he begins to set the motion himself. His cock dives deep into her mouth, hitting the back of her throat with every pass. Elain gags around him, tears freely leaking down her cheeks until he pours himself into her with a long groan.

Elain swallow every last drop like it’s a fucking gift.

Immediately he is there. Pulling her up into him, wiping away the tears from her face and whispering hushed words into her skin.

“Are you okay?” Azriel searches her eyes as he pulls her back, “I should’ve asked before-

“Shh,” Elain puts her fingers against his lips, “I’m fine. Don’t fuss. I wanted that. I…I wanted to make you feel good.”

Something in Azriel’s gaze softened, even in the shroud of night, Elain could see the flecks of gold in his eyes grow brighter.

He kisses her fingertips, softly, with a reverence that sent her heart thudding against her ribs and, “Elain, you always make me feel good.”

She dimples at him, a little shy, “Still, I just wanted to show you how much I wanted that.”

“Well surely you must let me repay the favor then?” Azriel’s mouth blooms into a rakish smirk before he nips at her fingers

Elain giggles, trying to pull back her hand but Azriel captures it and covers her body with her own. He places her hand on the crown of her his hand before leaning and whispering, “Hold tight.”

And he repays the favor until Elain is sobbing his name with stars behind her eyelids.

+

Elain cranes her neck upwards, eyes squinting at the pale sunlight that peeks through a cloud blanketed sky and a huff loosens from her chest.

She must’ve walked past this building a million times, she might have even eyed in with some degree of wonder—of curiosity. She probably conjured up a daydream or two about the suits that were constantly coming and going from the glass behemoth.

Azriel’s company was on the sixty-third floor. She imagined it was so high up that he could look down upon the rest of the city like some benevolent king. She also imagined that it would bring him great amusement to know that she referred to him as a king. His lips would probably twist into that reluctant smirk that never failed to make her cheek burn.

Elain shakes her head, clearing away those silly, little thoughts and walks into the building with her fingers tight around her tote bag. She immediately feels out of place in a sea of smartly dressed people, all swathed in their navy’s and gray’s, their black and beige’s. She feels like one floral sore thumb in the midst of it all.

She swallows and makes a beeline to the corridor of elevators. The doors glide open and Elain swiftly steps in, fingers reaching for 63rd button.

The doors creak to a close but a pale hand shoots between them, halting the motion. Elain shifts to the side as a tall man enters the elevator, his coal dark eyes glancing down at her before he presses the button to his own floor.

All at once, Elain knows this man is an alpha.

She shrinks further into the corner, trying to make herself as small—as unimposing as possible. It could be instinct that causes her to cower at the presence of an unfamiliar alpha, or it could be because the man was just so…unsettling.

His scent is thick, thick and metallic and it settles on her tongue like tar. Elain has never been more desperate for the smell of cedar and mist in her life.

The elevator seems to move at a painstakingly slow pace, drawing upwards with no urgency.

Relax, she tries to tell herself. It’s in your head. It’s all in your head. Just because he is an alpha does not mean he has ill intent. He is just a man in the elevator. That’s it. That’s all.

It’s not, her gut insists, it’s not.

“What a delicate scent.”

Elain’s eyes grow wide.

“So sweet and innocent.” The man says in a honeyed drawl, “So…ripe.”

Her fingers dig crescents into her palms. Hurry up, hurry up, hurry up…

“I’m sure you don’t need me to tell you how beautiful you are.” He continues, unfazed by her lack of attention. If anything, he seems encouraged by it, “But it’s not everyday you see such a rare jewel such as yourself. An unmated omega that smells like honey…

Elain folds in on herself, eyes pinned to the ground.

“Oh don’t be shy, sweet omega.” The man clucks at her, “I was only paying you a compliment.”

“I hope the alpha that lingers on your delicious scent is pleasing you, if not,” He reaches over and drops something into her bag, “It would be my pleasure to ensure your needs are being fulfilled.”

The doors of the elevator open and he steps out without another word.

She heaves out a breath, collapsing against the wall of the elevator. Her trembling hands dig in her bag and she pulls out a stiff piece of paper—a business card.

HYBERN INDUSTRIES

William Hybern, CEO

Elain’s face, so pretty and so delicate, crumbles into a snarl and she rips the offending card into shreds. She doesn’t care that it falls to the crowd like discarded confetti for someone else to clean up, she can’t stand the sight of it.

She has a grocery list of uncomfortable encounters with an alpha. Many times she was backed into a corner by an alpha exercising their biological dominance, forced to put on her fakest smile and try really hard not to choke on “Fuck Me” pheromones they exude.

Those were a dime a dozen, those were something Elain grew accustomed to. They weren’t entirely harmless but she never felt like she was in true, real danger.

Not like with this William Hybern.

Her skin began to crawl just thinking about him and his soulless, black eyes and his smothering scent and his odious words.

Thankfully, the elevators ding, signaling she reached her floor. Desperate to leave the whole interaction behind, Elain scurries out of the elevator striaght to the reception desk.

A pretty beta sits at the front, she glances up at Elain from her monitor, “Hi, Elain I assume?”

“Hi, yes.” She smiles, praying it’s not as frayed as she feels

“Perfect, Mr. Rosehall said to expect you. I’ll lead you to his office.” She stands and flicks her wrist, motioning Elain to follow her.

The receptionist leads her through a modern office space. There was ceiling to floor windows, offering plenty of light and a breathtaking view of the city. She lingered on the industrial fixtures and lighting, noting—with delight—a copious amount of plants dotted around the space. They stop at the closed-door office at the end of the floor, the receptionist bids her a good day and Elain rasps her knuckles against the door.

“Come in.”

The sound of Azriel’s voice melts the lingering unease that snagged in her chest, Elain opens the door and smiles at the sight of him behind his desk with his (absolutely adorable) glasses on.

He grins up at him, pushing up and walking over to greet her with a hug.

Elain falls into his arms, rubbing her nose into his chest to inhale his scent. Much better, she thinks as her fingers grip the fabric of his shirt, so much better.

Azriel runs his palms flat down her back, rubbing them up and down and, “What’s wrong?”

She closes her eyes at the gentle note of his voice and god, why does he know her so well already? How can he know her like this already?

“Nothing” Nothing anymore, “It’s just good to see you.”

“Miss me that bad then?”

“Don’t tease,” Then, “Can you do me a favor.”

Azriel leans back, tucking an errant curl behind her ear, “Anything.”

“Can you,” A blush blooms on Elain’s cheeks, “Can you scent mark me?”

Azriel stares down at her like he wants to ask her why but decides against it. It’s like he knows that she wouldn’t want to talk about it anyway. He leans her over to his desk and lifts her on top of it.

“You’re asking me to bath you in my scent like it’s a favor?” He says, bracketing her with his arms as he leans forward, “Nothing would make me happier.”

Azriel reaches down, taking her wrist and pressing it against his own. He rubs his scent gland against her skin and repeats the motion with her other hand. He pushes her hair off her shoulders, and buries his face into the crook of her neck.

Elain sighs, her inner omega settling into a wistful state of peace as he coats her in his scent. She grabs his shoulders, holding him there as he presses her mouth against her most sensitive scent gland and yes, this is exactly what she needed.

She may be an unmated omega but she doesn’t want anyone questioning who she belonged to ever again.

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Chapter Text

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The sudden and intense pattering of rain against his windows causes Azriel to lift his eyes from his monitor. He stares out as a summer storm blankets the city, the light rumble of thunder echoing through the sky.

Immediately, he thinks of Elain who insisted on biking to work this morning. She cited it was such a lovely day, that it would be wasted on the stale air of a bus ride. He grabs his phone and sends her a quick message, demanding that she call an uber home or he’d come get her himself.

Although, Elain would probably think walking her bike home in the pouring rain to be incredibly romantic and whimsical and wonderful. She was just like that, a quiet dreamer.

The thought of her arriving at his doorstep, all soaking wet and dimpled cheeks causes a smile to sneak on his lips.

Azriel leans back in his chair, allowing himself a moment of reprieve after a long, and busy day. His software update was nearly ready, only missing the projected hairline by a few days. Companies were already pre-paying, expressing great interest in his program. He also had companies trying to buy his entire company outright, trying to entice him with a startling amount of zeroes.

Companies like Hybern Industries.

William Hybern was nothing short of a nuisance. Always badgering him on selling, always whispering slick promises of great wealth and prosperity and how he could take Azriel’s hardwork to new heights.

Unscrupulous CEOs were a dime a dozen in this city, Azriel was lucky to encounter four or five of them a day, but no one irked him like Hybern did. Something about the man did not settle right with him. Something about him caused his hackles to rise, his inner alpha to bare it’s teeth, his solider instinct to flare and steel itself.

He presses his fingers to his brow, a headache was looming just beneath the surface—his first one in months actually. Azriel would be foolish not to acknowledge the fact that they appeared less and less after a certain omega entered his life.

And speaking of Elain…

She was showing signs of pre-heat. Azriel has caught her sneaking extra snacks in the odd hours of the night, taking long naps during the day, and just yesterday he saw her absently rubbing an itch away from her scent glands.

Azriel wouldn’t be surprised if she started nesting soon.

Yet, she has made no mention about her heat. His cycle partners in the past were extremely communicative in regards to their needs during their heats. He always knew of their preferred location to nest, what food and other comforts to supply—if they had any reservations about certain acts or what they needed in moments of clarity.

Elain hasn’t said a word.

It was almost like she didn’t even know she was close to her heat.

She certainly didn’t give any indication of it.

A thread of worry knotted around his ribs. Elain had made mention before of her lack of experience, and Azriel was starting to wonder just how deep her lack of knowledge ran.

She should know how to properly handle a heat though. She’s twenty-one, and on average, most omegas go through their first heat around eighteen. That would mean that she’s had to go through at least ten heats by now—more or less.

It struck Azriel as odd.

And every time he went to bring it up, an ache in his chest stopped him—afraid that he might be encroaching on something sensitive, something that she was keeping locked away.

Nonetheless, Az knew that he had to break his silence one way or another. Especially as  her heat drew closer.

A few more days, he resolved, just a few more days. If she didn’t bring it up then he would be left with no choice but to.

+

Those few days come and go, each passing hour weight heavier and heavier on his shoulders.

And Elain says nothing.

His headache has gotten progressively worse, lingering just above his right temple despite being coaxed away by tylenol and Elain’s soft touches.

Azriel knows he must say something. There is no prolonging the inevitable.

He arrives home after work to find Elain fast asleep on his couch, dressed in one of his hoodies and swathed in a couple of his blankets—pretty little head resting on his pillow. It’s as if she’s unintentionally building a nest, like she’s being led by instinct alone. Despite the fact that she looks unfairly adorable piled down by blankets, Azriel frowns.

He crouches down next to her, eyes tracing the delicate lines of her beautiful face. His gaze lingers on the freckles dusting her cheeks and the bridge of her nose.

She, without a shadow of doubt, is the loveliest thing he’s ever seen. Will ever see.

His fingers, scarred and ruined, touch the perfect apple of her cheek. Gently rousing her awake. Elain’s eyelashes flutter and he is greeted by the slow blink of soft doe eyes looking back at him.

“Hi.” She exhales with a smile, “I fell asleep again didn’t I?”

Azriel nods, words notching in his throat.

“How was work?” Elain asks, leaning into his hand. His thumb brushes over the plush hill of her lips to the corner of her smile

“Productive.” Azriel says, “We’re in the final stage of the update, it should be ready by the end of the month.”

“That’s really good, after it finishes, you deserve like, three months of just lazing around all day.”

“As long as you’re there with me.”

“Of course.”

“Elain…” He swallows, her brows knit ever so slightly at the shift in his voice.

“What is it?” She asks, “What’s wrong?”

Azriel heaves out a long breath and, “I…noticed you haven’t been yourself lately.”

“Really?” Elain tilts her head, “I feel fine, a little drowsy maybe but that’s it.”

She doesn’t know.

She really, truly has no idea.

“Elain,” He wets his lips, trying to find the right way to form his next words, “I think you’re about to start your heat.”

Something like panic flashes in those chestnut eyes, “Really? I-I…I guess I wasn’t paying any attention.”

There is a long drawl of silence then…

“Truth for a truth?” Azriel offers gently, heart clenching at anxiety that settles on her face

She nods and he knows that this has to be an even trade. He cannot dive into something deep, something she can hardly speak about without sharing his own demons.

“I was tested for my biological designation as a child,” Azriel begins, holding her eyes, “My step brothers were both betas, although they were big enough, nearly strong enough to pass as alphas. I think they might have resented me for it. I think they felt less because of it.”

“There was a myth going around—a rumor that alphas possessed enhanced healing properties so they tested it out on me.”

“Azriel…” Elain’s eyes gutter out, his name a broken whisper on her lips

“They poured hot oil on my hands. Over and over and over again.” A shiver crawled down his back as he remembered the pain, the sounds of his own screaming piercing the air, the way he begged them to stop until his throat was raw, their cruel laugher mingling with his sobs, and the fucking smell…that was the worst part.

Elain reaches for him, pulling his head into her lap and she covers him with her body—like she is trying to shield him from the worst thing that’s already happened to him. The feel of her hands carding tenderly through his hair grounds him, brings him back from the throes of his living nightmare.

“By the time my father realized what they were doing, it was too late. My hands were ruined, it is a miracle that they still function. So maybe there was some truth to the rumor.” Azriel presses his cheek into the soft skin of her thigh, breathing in her scent, letting it comfort him, “I was nine.”

“Oh Az.” Elain holds him tighter, something wet and warm falling on his face and she was crying—crying for him, “I’m so sorry. I know that’s not enough but I am. I’m so, so sorry.”

He lifts up, “Elain, sweet, perfect girl, please don’t cry for me.”

“I get the feeling that not enough people have.” Her voice is a little warble as he tilts her chin up, “God, you were just a little kid.”

That pierced something deep inside him, “I know, I know.”

“I hope they burn in hell.” Elain whispers viciously, truthfully—a glimmer of pure hatred in her eyes.

“I do too.” Azriel murmurs and for awhile that’s it. It’s just Elain holding him, running her hands through his hair, stroking his shoulders, kissing the crown of his head.

“I thought I was a beta.” She starts, whispering the confession to his dark curls, “I…wanted to be a beta. To me it felt like finally having something about my life be normal, it felt like something I would finally have control over.”

“When I moved to the city a year ago, it was manated by my university that I have my secondary gender confirmed because I didn’t have the official paperwork on it. Growing up the way I did meant we didn’t really have the spare funds for doctor costs or testing. So I had bloodwork done and it turned that all this time, I was omega.”

Azriel blinks, so late—she found out so late. He couldn’t imagine how devasting that news must have been, especially to someone who wanted to be a beta so terribly.

“The doctor said I should expect to start my heat at any point but it never came.” Elain holds him tighter, “I thought maybe it a mistake, that there was so medical error, that I really was a beta but…

She swallows, hands beginning to tremble against him. He shifts them, getting up on the couch so he can be the one holding her. Elain buries her head against his chest, shaky hands fisting his shirt.

“I was at party to celebrate the end of the semester, and all the sudden I got really hot and my throat got dry and everything was elevated. The noise was too loud, I became ultra aware of everyone’s scent, it felt too crowded but at the same time like not enough hands were touching me.”

“You had a spontaneous heat.” Azriel realizes, “Fuck Elain…I…

When he had his first rut, he was well prepared—well versed on it all. He had a safe place, all the creature comforts he could’ve needed, and perhaps most imperative, a willing and experienced omega to ride it out with him.

But to have your first heat, one that is scientifically proven to be more intense—more prolonged and feverish, than the rest all the sudden…all at once in front of a house full of strangers—that would be unthinkable, it would be unbearable.

“It’s like I flipped a switch, one second I was me and the next I was an omega. I remember thinking that I needed to find Nuala and Cerridwen but at the same time I…” Elain feels her face grow hot, a fresh wave of tears prickling her eyes, “I just started to take off my clothes and that’s it. I just blacked out.”

“Elain…”

“Nuala and Cerridwen found me before any real damage was done. I guess the sudden shift in my scent caused the alphas there to flock to me. They had to fight and claw to get them away from me. And me from them. I wasn’t exactly turning them away at that point. They managed to get me in a car to take me to the omega health center, I think they were afraid of going to a hospital with so many people around.”

“I was too far gone to go through my heat like a regular omega, I couldn’t consent to a partner and I needed more than just…toys or my hands. They told me I was a going to be a danger to myself and to anyone near me so they sedated me for the rest of my cycle.”

No wonder, Azriel thought darkly, no wonder she had no clue that she was starting her hear soon. No wonder she looked so panicked, so afraid when he brought it up.

“And we’ll help each other through our cycles?”

He closes his eyes at the memory, it feels like forever ago when they were standing in his kitchen, naming conditions to their little arrangement. He remembers how timid, how  nervous she seemed when she spoke of their cycles—he had merely brushed it off, blamed it on the situation itself rather than the fact that she may have a very real reason to be anxious about her heat.

“There was some videos taken that night, by some betas who thought it was funny. They circulated through campus.”

Azriel’s eyes snap to her face, blood running cold.

“What?” His voice sharp and murderous and entirely alpha.

She nods, the movement causes a tear to slip down her cheek, “Maybe they thought I was just some drunk omega. Nuala and Cerr tried their best to shield me from them but I guess some part of me wanted to know what happened. God, Azriel it was awful. I was begging them to touch me, I was sobbing and trying to submit to them and I didn’t even recognize my own voice. I didn’t know who that person was.”

Kill. Kill and punish and destroy.

He’d do it, he’d scrub those videos clean from the internet, from personal data banks. He’d erase them completely and lay waste to anyone who thought it was funny…who laid their unworthy eyes on his omega.

His beautiful, perfect omega.

His kind, perfect omega.

His sweet, perfect omega.

His, his, his.

Azriel takes her in his lap, settling her so that she’s chest to chest with him and buries his face into her neck. He breathes her in, her scent is thick with her sadness, her pain and it causes his heart to ache a thousand times over.

It occurs to the more rational part of his brain, the one that isn’t ruled by his emotions or the alpha buried deep inside, that this is a dangerous game he is playing.

Elain owes him nothing, nor does she have any obligation—any commitment to him.

Their arrangement was nothing more than a business transaction yet…

Yet, he couldn’t fathom the thought of ever letting her go. Couldn’t bear the loss of her. He would be a sorry bastard who pinned and yearned and missed her for the rest of his days.

He should tell her these things. She has the right to know, she deserves to know.

Not yet, his ribs whisper, not yet.

It would do her a great disservice to drop all of that in her lap right now, given her current situation. It would be unfair to expect her to be in the mindset to process a confession when she was days away from going through a proper heat for the first time.

Not yet.

Azriel would wait. Wait until her heat was well and over and there was nothing left to burden that beautiful heart of her’s.

He holds her tighter, nudging his nose against her scent gland—already starting to swell with her impending heat on the horzion.

“I’ll take care of you.” He vows against her skin, “You will be safe, I will give you everything you need.”

“Promise?” She whispers and it breaks his heart all over again.

Azriel pulls back and takes her tear stained face in his ruined hands, and with as much conviction he could muster, “I swear it.”

+

The next day, Azriel arrives home with all the provisions she would need to comfortably ride out her heat.

He stopped by the grocery store to grab her favorite snacks, which mostly included various cheeses, chocolates, and loads of the freshest strawberries he could find.

Azriel even went by her apartment to grab her comfiest clothes, and without having to ask, grabbed her emotional support plushie.

Elain nearly burst into tears at the sight of the worn bunny rabbit in his corded arms. She blamed it on her increased hormones but really, it was because he was just being so goddamn sweet.

She decides she would rather go through her heat at his house rather than her thin-walled apartment. It would be better to be in a place that was so wonderfully drenched in her alpha’s scent than her apartment that she rarely occupied these days.

When Azriel promised he would handle everything, he really meant it. Besides bringing in her comfort snacks and beloved stuffed animal, he calls her jobs to inform them of her appending cycle and gives notice to his employees that he’s taking a week off.

Guilt catches somewhere deep inside her, Elain knew how busy he’s been with his software deadline looming on the horizon. When she tried to bring it up to him, Azriel had waved a dismissive hand, stating that his part in the update was basically done and his employees were the ones polishing it for it’s launch.

Azriel just insisted on her taking it slow until the full effect of her heat truly kicked it.

So that’s what Elain was doing.

Expect that she can’t fix her pillows the way she wants and everything is falling apart due to that simple hiccup.

A noise of frustration slips from her lips as she rips away the pile of blankets and pillows from Azriel’s bed. Her shoulders drop at the mess on his floor, and she drops to a defeated squat next to it.

She must be the world’s worst omega.

She can’t even build a stupid nest.

“I suck.” She murmurs into her knees, “I truly, absolutely suck.”

She’ll never please alpha like this.

Elain shakes her head, trying to dismiss that nagging inner omega from her thoughts, “Stupid omega emotions. Stupid heat cycles. Stupid, ugly nest.”

“I thought it was quite pretty actually.”

She tilts her head to the sound of his voice.

Alpha. Alpha. Alpha.

Azriel leans against the doorframe, arms crossed and looking extremely, unfairly handsome. Her silly, omega brain purrs at the sight of him—drinking him in with the greediest of eyes.

“You lie.” Elain accuses before slumping her head back into her knees, “You chose the sorriest omega you possibly could.”

Azriel joins her on the floor, his warm hand reaching up to cup the back of her neck, “Shh, now. I don’t want to hear you speak of yourself like that.”

She peeks up at him and with a sniff, “It’s true though.”

He gives her neck a slight squeeze and stands up, grabbing her hands and hauling her to her feet, “Come now, show me what a pretty little nest you can build.”

Elain blinks at the authoritative edge of his tone. Yes alpha, her inner omega keens, obey. obey. obey.

She nods and Azriel, pleased, leans forward and places a single kiss on her brow.

Then, with a hushed tone, says in her ear, “Good omega.”

A shiver races down her spine, a whimper catches in her throat at the praise. Somewhere, in the part of her brain that is still logical and not completely overrun by her omega, she knows Azriel is pulling his biological rank to help her. She’d much rather be devoting her time to pleasing him rather than stewing in her hormonal misery.

He pulls back, tilting his head so his lips brush against her’s just so.

Elain sighs, what a perfect tease. She watches him disappear down the hall before grabbing an armful of pillows and starting over.

Once she is finally satisfied with the way her nest looks, Elain slips in the bathroom to take a quick shower before slipping into one of Azriel’s well loved band tee shirts. She loves the way the hemline falls just above her knees, it gives her some primal delight that he’s so much bigger than her.

She brushes out the tangles in her hair as something like a heavy exhaustion settles over her bones. Elain notes this, along with a unusual bout of silence from the very loud, and very obnoxious omega part of her brain.

Anticipation mingles with a small flare of anxiety as Elain crawls into her nest, grabbing a blanket that smells particularly like Azriel and pulling it up to her chin.

I’m okay.

I’m safe.

I’m with alpha.

I’m with Azriel.

Elain repeats the mantra until her eyelids grow heavy. Until she doesn’t even notice the steady stream of heat that begins to pool low in her belly and the growing feeling of want and need that catches on her ribs.

Until she falls into a quiet slumber, satiated by the scent of her alpha heavy in the air.

And when she wakes, she wakes with a dry throat and a blaring, overwhelming demand for Azriel and Azriel alone.

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Chapter Text

There is conclusive evidence that heats become more manageable as time goes on. When an Omega experiences their first heats, their symptoms are amplified. They are prone to longer stretches of desire for an alpha, tending to be more relentless—more tenacious in their demand of pleasure. Their moments of clarity have shown to be shorter. Alphas have described omegas in the first cycles of heats as “Needy”, “Particularly Sensitive”, and “Saying or doing things they wouldn’t normally.”

The Physiology of Omega Heats

Volume III, Section IX — 2019

Azriel sits at kitchen island, elbows propped on the table as he meticulously replies to the remainder of his work emails. Most of them could have waited for an answer but Azriel wasn’t quite sure when Elain’s heat would fully settle in, and he didn’t want to have anything that would pull his attention away from her.

Not like it could.

His alpha instincts were already teeming beneath the surface, like electricity under his skin. Everything felt sharper, everything had an edge it didn’t before. Azriel felt like he could snap his jaws at anyone who even glanced at Elain, felt like he’d burn the world down for her if she desired it.

It was…different.

He’d never felt like this with anyone—about anyone.

Azriel had helped omegas through their heats before, he even had an cycle partner but never had they elicited such a response from him. It’s not that he cared for them, or their wellbeing—it was just Elain had him in a way no one has before.

Azriel knew that he was responding differently to her heat because she had rooted herself somewhere deep and untouchable in his chest. Because she felt like his.

He wanted her to be his.

Not yet, his ribs remind him, not yet.

Azriel sighs, flattening a palm down the side of his face and he makes to close his laptop when he hears it.

The slightest of whimpers.

It cuts through him. Stilling him. It’s only a faint sound but it feels like thunder in his ears.

The hairs on the back of his neck rise.

His heart begins to thump with an unrelenting pace.

And a resounding heat pools somewhere deep in his belly.

Then his smells it.

A shift, a change in Elain’s scent.

It takes her lovely jasmine and honey and turns it into something richer, sweeter, headier—it turns it into a goddamn siren song, meant to lull him to her.

Azriel shoots to his feet, the barstool he was occupying clattering to the floor.

Omega. Elain. Omega. Elain. Omega, Omega, Omega….

His alpha instincts claw up his throat, becoming him as he strides through his house with large, urgent steps to the source of the smell, of the sound. Azriel opens the door, filling the threshold and he sees her.

Omega. Elain. Omega.

She is hunched over at the foot of his bed, holding her stomach—her hair is a curtain that hides her from him.

Elain’s head snaps up, revealing her perfect heart shaped face to him and he consumes the image of her: of her large eyes—wet with need, her cheeks flushed, her lips red and swollen, the way her curls cling to her skin.

Perfect.

Ready.

Ripe.

Omega. Omega. Omega.

“I…” Her voice is a husky warble, “I could smell you…I tried to find you…”

She was cramping, a painful side effect of being unfilled—unknotted. The heat in her belly was likely too much for her, so much so that it caused to stumble in her search for him.

Elain bows over with another whimper, hands flying out to catch herself. Then, she looks up at him once more, something catching fire in those chestnut eyes of her’s and she begins to crawl to him. Slowly. Surely.

Fuck.

His voice catches in his throat at the sight, a primal piece of pleasure growing within him as she comes to rest on her haunches at his feet.

Elain runs her hands up his calves and hooks behind his thighs, her eyes never leaving his and she places a single kiss to the hard swell in his sweatshorts before resting her cheek against it.

“Alpha.” She breathes him in with a soft whine, “Please. I’m so hot. I need you. Please.”

Azriel’s composure snaps. Crumbles into a thousand broken pieces as he runs his hand down her cheek to her chin, hooking his fingers there to tilt her head up. His thumb runs across her bottom lip before dipping into her hot mouth, an offering, a small taste for his omega.

Elain fastens her lips over the digit, sucking hard with a desperate moan.

“So pretty.” Azriel all but coos at her, “So obedient, my sweet little omega.”

She blinks up at him through wet, dark lashes and sucks harder in agreement. Azriel pulls his thumb from her mouth and smears her the wetness across her lips, Elain’s eyes flutter shut and her brows knit together as another flash of that burning desire cuts through her, “Please.”

“I know, I know.” Azriel says softly and scoops her up in his arms. Immediately, Elain is burying her face into the crook of his neck—nipping and lapping and sucking on his scent gland, it almost causes him to stumble as he walks them over to bed.

He gently lays Elain down, and she cries out at the loss of his skin, “Alpha—Azriel, please. Please, it’s too much. I need—

“Shh now,” Azriel pulls off his shirt, letting it drop to the floor, “I’m going to give you what you need.”

He covers her body with his, pushing back her curls with his hand and he catches her mouth with his own. Elain moans into the kiss and it is such a guttural, raw sound that it makes Azriel’s head spin—makes his cock impossibly hard.

She cants her hips against him, seeking out any friction to alleviate the painful throb at her core. Azriel tears away from her, chest heaving before he grabs her jaw and pushes it to the side. Her throat. That’s what he wants, so that’s what he gets.

His mouth sets a trail of fire down her neck until he reaches her swollen scent gland. He takes her skin between his teeth: biting and sucking and lapping and soothing until she can’t take it anymore—until she is nothing more than a sobbing mess, begging for more.

Azriel is gone now, he is reduced to his barest instincts. His is all alpha. There is nothing but the urge to taste, to touch, to take and claim.

He pulls her shirt off, groaning at the sight of her breasts and her dusty pink nipples that peak them. Elain grabs his head, pulling him down to her, “Please, please, please….

Azriel takes one pointed nub into his mouth, swirling his tongue around her before sucking. She arches into him, hands tearing into his curls. Elain bucks into him again, and again as his hand plucks and teases her neglected nipple.

“So fucking responsive for me.” Azriel murmurs roughly, “Fuck—I could spent all day working your pretty tits like this.”

Elain throws her head back against the pillows, pushing her chest up and she cries out. Just like that, she comes, just like that.

His girl is a live wire, sensitive to anything and everything. Azriel, in a haze, wonders how she will survive when he finally fills her up.

“S’okay.” Azriel kisses her collarbone, holding her through it, “You’re okay.”

“More.” Elain whimpers, her orgasm just barely taking the edge off, “More.”

He lifts his head, “So needy.”

She nods, agreeing. Her body trembling beneath him.

Azriel hums, running his large hands down her sides to settle on the flare of her hips. He marvels at the difference of their size, how big his hands look on her. He sits up as he drags his hands down to her thighs.

Elain whines softly and parts her legs, an act of quiet submission. The smell of her arousal, sweet and fragrant fills his mouth and Azriel’s eyes roll back.

“Fuck baby.” He bites out, jaw tight as he takes in her wet heat and the slick that pools on the sheets, “So goddamn pretty. Bet you taste so sweet.”

Azriel runs his thumb down her slit, his knuckle barely grazing her clit. Elain whines louder, hips chasing his touch. He retracts and brings his thumb to his mouth, tasting her.

“Fuck yeah.” He groans, head falling back, “Like fucking honey.”

Azriel shifts so that his face is in between her thighs, he throws her legs over his shoulder and he breathes her in.

“Alpha.” Elain whispers

And he devours her whole.

There is no rhythm, no tactical movements. He just eats and eats like a man starving, lapping up her sweetness with a greedy tongue. His lips fasten around her clit and he sinks two fingers into her wet heat.

Elain cries and babbles and moans, hips jerking as he brings her to one…two orgasms in quick succession. Azriel lifts up, chin wet and proud curve to his mouth.

Elain looks absolutely wrecked beneath him, breaths coming in short and fast—eyes glazed and unfocused. Azriel straightens up, keeping her legs hooked over his shoulders.

“Okay?” Azriel asks, pressing a kiss to the delicate ball of her ankle.

She nods, white teeth scraping against her plush bottom lip and, “I-I….It’s….

“It’s not enough is it sweet girl?” He runs the head of his swollen cock through her dripping folds, focusing on the spot that makes her toes curl, “You need more.”

“Yes, please” Elain murmurs, an edge of want on her voice.

“So polite.” Azriel lines himself with her opening, “Such a good girl.”

And he pushes into her, inch by inch. It’s still a tight fit, even through she’s been soaking wet for him for the past thirty minutes. Elain keens around him, fingers twisting for purchase in his sheets. Every nerve ending, every muscle, every bone and drop of blood in his body rejoice at this…at claiming her like this. Finally, he bottoms out and he holds her there, feeling her clench and unclench around him with a mouthwatering tightness.

“Fuck.” Azriel manages between his teeth, “Fuck.”

Elain mewls, grinding against him, hips urging him to move. His fingers paint bruises on her skin as he obliges, fucking into her exactly how she needs him too. She throws her head back, presenting the long, delicate line of her throat to him.

And if he were a worse man, a man who allowed himself to be completely overrun by his primal instincts, he would have sunk his teeth into that pulsing gland in her neck and made her his forever.

But he’s not, so he doesn’t.

Instead, he wraps his hand around that decadent throat of hers, and gives a slight squeeze. His thumb presses down on her scent gland, a small sign of dominance.

Elain is a mess beneath him, crying out as she comes without him even having to touch her clit. She spasms around him, but still, even through the throes of her peak, begs him for more.

Azriel adjusts his angle, pressing down on her so he can go deeper. She is folded under him, her knees up by her ears as he thrusts into her. And he feels like an animal, fucking her like this, so wild and undone, like she’s pulled him apart and reduced him to nothing but an alpha who wants to claim his omega.

Elain squeezes her eyes shut, lost to the feeling but he can’t have that. No, he wants to see her when she takes his knot.

“Eyes open.” He commands, an authoritative edge to his voice, “Let me see you, omega.”

Her eyes flutter open, chestnut almost lost because her pupils were blown so wide, “Good girl, that’s my fucking good girl.”

He’s close, he can feel it in every thrust. Staring down at her, looking into those doe eyes only serves to bring him closer to that edge.

Azriel presses his forehead against her’s, his movements becoming less controlled—more urgent as he pushes into her. Elain holds him, palms coming to rest on his cheeks.

“Please.” She whispers once more, rolling her hips to take him deeper, “Azriel…please-

He comes with a stifled curse, burying his face in her neck as he spills himself inside her. Elain wraps her arms around his shoulders, holding him tight as she rocks through one last peak of her own. She murmurs words of hushed gratitude as his knot swells within her.

Azriel lifts his head, eyes searching her sweet face for any signs of discomfort, of pain but he finds nothing but blissful contentment. She presses into the crook of his shoulder as he readjusts them into a more comfortable position.

He holds her like that, running the flat of his palm against the knobs of her spine and whispering words of honeyed praise into her hair.

When they finally part, lifts her face from his  neck—revealing her lovely, flushed face and swollen lips and those sweet, starving eyes.

Her gaze flits over his face before their eyes catch, her brows pull ever so slightly and…

“More…please.”

+

Azriel eventually loses track of how many times he makes her come.

His omega is a greedy, hungry little thing.

In her short moments of clarity, he cleans her up and makes sure she has something on her stomach. He holds her while she sleeps in a dizzying mixture of long and short spans.

He waits for an exhaustion that never comes, his biology demands him to be perfect for her. His heart ensures that he is.

Azriel knows he should try to get some sleep, but there is something about having her in his arms that keeps him from drifting into slumber. His eyes never stray far from her delicate, sleeping face. He memorizes her like this: the soft part of her swollen lips, the slight pull of her brow, the shadow of her  eyelashes. There is a vulnerability to her that makes his heart clench and unfurl.

He knows that she is something to be cherished.

His fingers toy with a curl falling over her shoulder, winding and unwinding the silken strands over his ruined fingers and a breathless noise escapes her.

Azriel glances down, eyes finding her’s heavy lidded and watching him intently.

Elain pushes his shoulder down into the mattress so that he is laying flat and throws her legs over his hips.

Like he said. Greedy.

He runs his palm up the curve of her hip and squeezes her breast, fingers lingering on her stiffened pink bud. She huffs and grabs his free hand, placing it on her other breast. A heated grin twists on his lips and he acquiesces her, palming her breasts and teasing her nipples until she is left gasping and grinding down on his thigh.

Elain raises up, long curls tumbling over her shoulders in wild waves as she positions herself over him and slowly sinks down onto his rigid length.

She rides him, slowly—like she’s savoring every inch of him sliding in and out of her. Her eyes never leave his. She takes his hand, placing a single kiss to the center of his palm before taking his ring and middle finger into her mouth.

Azriel groans, even to his own ears, it’s a pitiful sound. The wet heat of her mouth around his scarred fingers and the squeeze and slide of her around his cock is nearly enough to ruin him.

She comes, fingers deep in her mouth—just brushing the back of her throat. She gags.

And that kills him.

Azriel comes fast and hard, hips bucking as he pants through it. Elain keeps riding him, milking him for more—for all he’s got until his dick swells at the base and he knots her.

His hand falls onto his stomach, fingers wet with her saliva as he gazes up at her with something like adoration in his eyes. Elain dimples down at him, chestnut eyes crinkling.

“Sorry.” She murmurs sheepishly, cheeks staining red

Azriel cups her face, thumb brushing against the lovely apple of her cheek and, “Sorry for what sweetheart?”

“I know you were trying to sleep but…you know…the urges and all…” Elain looks away, embarrassed.

“Don’t ever apologize for that.” He shakes his head, “That is exactly what I’m here for. I’m yours to do whatever you need.”

The flush on her skin deepens and she sinks softly falls on top of him, still connected but more comfortable. Elain melts into him, face pressed into the crook of his neck as she breaths through the aftershock of her release.

“What day is it?” She murmurs after some time, her voice muffled against his skin.

“It’s day four,” Azriel answers, fingers trailing up and down her back. She asks everytime she has a span of lucidity. He has a hard enough time himself keeping track of the time, of the days. It’s probably an impossible task for her—especially when her brain only has three tasks: fuck until hungry, fuck until exhausted, fuck until pregnant.

Things have begun to slow. Her need for his knot, his touch has began to decrease while her stretches of sleep and coherence have lengthened. He knows she is exhausted, that the soreness has begin to settle in. He makes a note to draw her a bath after they part. A bath and one of those charcuterie boards that she loves so much.

“It feels like it’s been forever and a just a second all at once.” Elain says before she grows quiet for a moment and, “I don’t know what I would do without you.”

“Elain…” He heart twists, he cannot begin to fathom her suffering through a heat on her own. Or sedated. Or with some unworthy alpha who wouldn’t take care of her like he has.

“Thank you Azriel,” She presses her mouth against his scent gland. The gesture holds not seductive heat or finesse. It’s sweetness and gratitude. It’s affection and appreciation.

“You don’t have to thank me.” He shakes his head and with a grin “It’s in our contract after all.”

All at once he knows it was the wrong thing to say.

He only meant it as a light joke. A poke of fun but the way she stiffens against him tells him that it didn’t land the way he intended. Azriel presses his hands against her back, trying to hold her there, “Elain, I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have-

“It’s okay.” She cuts in, and God, he wishes he could see her face, “You don’t have to say anything.”

“No, Elain, I—

“It’s fine Azriel.” There is an edge to her voice that tears through him, “Promise. I’m tired so I’m going to try to sleep.”

Azriel hesitates, there is a lump in his throat and a voice in his head that screams at him. Idiot. Idiot. Idiot.

Why would he say that. How could he say that.

It would’ve been a gamble to say that even if she weren’t in heat but he had to go open his mouth and ruin everything. Elain was vulnerable. She was vulnerable and needed to be surrounded by love and comfort and stability. She didn’t need him to remind her that the reason he was there was because of some arrangement they made months ago.

An arrangement they barely even talked about.

An arrangement that had transformed into companionship, into a friendship, into something deeper that they have not named.

God, what was wrong with him?

He knew it was more than that. He’s always known it was more than that. Why did he have to say that. How could he be so stupid?

Azriel held her, even though he knew she wasn’t asleep.

Even though he felt like he was being pulled apart at the seams.

Even though he hated himself more in this moment, than he’d ever have in his whole life.

+

The days that followed were strained.

Azriel tried his best to rectify his words but Elain had become as distant as her heat would allow. Even their moments of intimacy lacked the passion, the heat they held before. It had been replaced by methodically movements to get them to their respective peaks. She didn’t even want to be held after, or when she slept. It was clear that she was now treating this as he had said: just an arrangement.

And he tried, he really tried to show her it was more than that.

Azriel didn’t stop his words of soft affection and praise when they were together. He didn’t stop his soft touches and sweet kisses. He put on her favorite show without her asking, served her favorite snacks without her telling. He drew bathes with extra bubbles and fragrant scents of eucalyptus because she loved it.

Still, she was slipping away from him. Like grains of sand through opened palms. He couldn’t bring her back to what they had before no matter how hard he atoned.

The final day of her heat came and went. She slept through most of it, only waking twice to subdue those final strings of desire.

Azriel wakes the next morning to an empty bed. He immediately shoots up, a sick feeling growing in his stomach.

I’ve been here before, he thinks as he scrambles to find Elain in his home. Everything is spotless. There is no trace of her to be found, no artifacts left behind, nothing but the lingering scent of jasmine and honey that cannot be scrubbed away by any amount of bleach.

She left no coffee, fresh for him in the pot. No muffins, still warm in their pan on the countertop.

Elain was gone, without a word. Without a moment to spare. She didn’t even give him the chance to try to apologize again for his foolish tease.

Azriel clenches his fists, a wave of shame and heartbreak and self hatred crashing upon him and swallowing him whole in it’s tide.

Gone.

She was gone.

But unlike before, all those months ago after his rut. He knew where to find her.

.

.

.