Archive of Our Own

Normally, Tiel smelt faintly of oranges and spices and the earth that they grew out of. 

Alacran had always, always liked her scent: it wasn’t cloyingly sweet or overly floral, the way many omegas smelt. 

It wasn’t even dainty: the earth and the scent of rind was just subtle enough to be enjoyable, while the nutmeg, cloves and other spices sat in the bottom.

“Like a spice cupboard in an orange grove” was how he had described it to her, the first time she had come off of her blockers long enough to smell properly like the omega she was.

She had laughed, then pressed her nose up against his wrist to snuffle against the glands there.

Her sense of smell had been weakened by years of living life on drugs, so it took her longer to smell him: in the end, he had sighed and sat down on the couch so she could smell the gland on his neck instead: more potent. 

Efficient, he had told her.

She didn’t need to know how having her nose pressed up against his neck had felt so terrifyingly intimate that he had gone and taken a bath immediately after, rather than let her scent linger on him, tortmenting him.

“You smell of parchment! And flowers and…bread?” she had eventually said, wrinkling her nose thoughtfully.

“Is that…bad?” he had asked, unable to control the small, primal part of him that yearned to know if omega likes our scent.

“No! Not at all. It’s just…subtle? Most alphas I’ve known in the past smelt of…stronger things than that.”

He couldn’t bring himself to ask if she liked it.

Now, he wished he had.

#

It was terrifying, seeing Zenos become Shinryu.

Alacran grasped his sword, staring up at the creature as it broke from its shackles.

“Tiel? Gonna need some protection, I think we have incoming.”

He turned his head to the side for just a moment, trying to place where she was in case he needed to throw himself in front of her, only to catch a scent that made his mind buckle with sensation.

Marmalade. 

Unmistakably marmalade: he could practically taste it on his tongue, could exactly remember how it felt to eat jars of the stuff, freshly made by Tiel, canned with loving care and a touch of Ul’dahn spice.

Except this was Tiel. 

It had to be: there was nobody else on the roof besides the dragon rearing above them, smelling distinctly of ash and levin.

He spared a moment to look at her, already paralyzed by the thought that was crawling into his mind and unable to do anything else, despite the many tons of dragon flesh above them.

She was standing in the flowerbed, clutching her staff with white knuckles and a flushed face.

He spared a second to rake down her flushed, exposed chest and realised that her legs were shaking like a leaf in the breeze.

Heat. She’s in heat. Right now. This instant.

He could practically smell the slick that must be sliding down her thighs by now. 

And then the dragon roared. 

“Fuck. Shit.”

He looked back to Shinryu just in time to dodge a blow from the dragon’s tail, ducking and rolling until he was in front of Tiel.

“Tiel! Look at me! We have to fight!!” 

She stared through him with glazed eyes.

“Don…wanna fight…alpha…”

Alpha. 

She was far gone, he realised even as the primal part of him crooned that he should kill the dragon to prevent distractions and then take her in the grass like an animal.

He shook off the voice, which had become more and more demanding these days and tried to focus.

“ Look at me. ” He commanded, feeling a slice of guilt over using any kind of commanding Alpha voice on her at all: how many times had she complained about overbearing Alphas thinking they could boss her around?

Her blank eyes lifted to his.

“Need…Alpha…” she murmured, swaying on her feet.

  “ I need you to heal me until I kill this thing. ” he commanded, and watched as some small flicker of recognition flickered across her face. 

Then it slipped away and her jaw set stubbornly.

“No, don’t kill Alpha!!” 

Her hands flexed around the staff and suddenly she was swinging at him.

Alacran stumbled back, catching her staff just in time with one armoured arm.

Don't kill Alpha.

There was only one other Alpha here, he realised with horror. 

Zenos.

Zenos, who had extended his hand, who had asked for friendship . 

Zenos, who stank of blood and decay and who emanated alpha power with every move he made.

Somehow, his presence, his scent had broken through Tiel’s suppressants and sent her into heat. 

Wrong. Wrong. 

Mine.

Ours , crooned that insistent corner of his consciousness that normally settled for telling him what a good, brave omega she was, how well she took care of the people in her life. 

He growled at her:

“ Zenos is not your Alpha!! ” 

This time, something seemed to stick in her mind, and when she raised her head, it was in a shaky determination.

She raised her staff and he felt the blessed, cool relief of a shield spell settle over him, just as an array of lightning bolts hit the ground around them.

#

Tiel's omega hindbrain was a traitorous bitch. 

She thought that she had appeased that feral pocket of herself, that the desire for alpha, strong alpha had been ameliorated by the string of alphas she had pulled into her bed over the years: tall men, one and all. 

Enough to cage that feral thing in with long limbs, even if in a real fight with proper spells, she would win.

Evidently her omega had just been biding its time, because when Zenos beckoned her, her mind leaped. 

Strong Alpha, so strong- 

It was wrong, all wrong, she knew it was wrong, but oh, he smelt of power. 

And with that horrible scent came a rush of familiar heat, only a hundred times worse. 

She had thought she knew what heat was like: desire, longing, never-ending arousal.

This was worse. 

Her abdomen seared with pain even as slick began to seep through the fabric of her skirt.

Alpha, need Alpha, gonna die if he doesn't take us-

And then Alacran was there, saying something indistinguishable above the clamour.

She swayed and felt her eyes glaze over. 

Had her knees ever been so weak? 

Then he said something that cut through the haze long enough for her to grasp it.

I need you to heal me.

Alpha needs us.

It was easier then: the arousal faded enough for her to focus on spells, even as another part of her cried out in sadness to see Zenos be killed. 

Somehow, she made it up the dragon’s tail, dodging along Shinryu’s back through lasers despite the sticky mess between her thighs. 

Following Alacran’s broad back, she leapt down onto the next platform, just in time to see him physically snarl as Shinryu-Zenos looked him in the eye.

“Not yours!” he seemed to be saying, but Tiel could hardly hear anything over the rapid thrum of her heartbeat.

Then-

Then… she wasn’t quite sure what was happening, with the world reduced to the pulse of blood between her legs.

#

Zenos fell, his own sword to his throat with a gurgling laugh as the blood spewed up his throat.

Alacran couldn’t bring himself to care, snarling as he was with the satisfaction of protecting his territory.

His mind had been focused the whole time on kill, kill the threat, claim, claim-

He sheathed his sword and immediately turned to scan for his healer, only to see her make a beeline for Zeno’s corpse, falling over it to press her hands to his neck.

“No,nn, no…this can’t…” she babbled incoherently, even as her fingers deftly wove his paling skin back together.

“ Stop. ” he told her firmly, to no avail. 

It rankled: he’d worked so hard to deliver her from a terrible fate, and here she was, trying to heal the very man who would have killed them both.

He could feel cold instinct begin to rise inside him with every second she went on pouring white magic into the corpse. 

Now, now, now, take-

Stop. He told himself, trying to claw the wave of desire that had begun to crash over him again in the wake of battle. 

One of us has to stay alert.

“TIEL.” he called out, throwing down his shield and beginning to doff his gauntlets.

She ignored him entirely as she continued her ministrations, though her hands were steadily becoming more and more shaky as they wove spells.

The scent of marmalade thickened as it melded with the stench of blood into a stomach-turning blend that set his teeth on edge.

He stormed over and laid his hands on her shoulders, forcibly dragging her back across the roof as she kicked and screamed until at last they fell backwards into a flower bed.

“ Calm down ” he hissed, even as she squirmed in his arms, her fists flailing backwards, trying to aim for his face, his side, anything that wasn’t armoured to no avail. 

In that moment of relative calm, he tried to sort through his options. 

He could stop now, could teleport them both home, escort her to her room and guard the door against anyone else. 

Could keep the status quo between them that had existed for years intact, if only he could keep his raging instincts under control. 

Yes, that would be best for her, right?

Right?

Then he remembered the thrill of the kill, the pure satisfaction that had filled his veins until Zenos had looked him in the eyes as he died and laughed.

“Go on, stake your claim like the slavering animal you are”.

Claim.  

She’s never wanted-

But if Zenos can do this, then what of Ascians? There’s always another threat, and next time, what if they enjoy more than the simple thrill of battle? What if you’re not there?

It’s for the best his alpha crooned. 

For the best.

Just as he finished his line of thought, a small fist clipped him on the chin and instinctually, he shoved her off of him into the flowers.

She skidded across the dirt with a little shrief of pain and all at once, he couldn’t take it anymore.

Don’t want to hurt her. Can’t let her get hurt.

He was on her in an instant, pinning down her infernal fists with one hand preemptively, even as he scanned her for injury, for blood or broken bones.

Relief washed over him as he could find nothing at first glance, except wounded feelings perhaps: she was making distressed noises that barely counted as words. 

He wanted to soothe her, to calm her, to-

Alacran released one of her hands and drew her wrist up to his mouth, licking at the swollen gland there without a thought in his mind except that he needed to erase the scent of blood that still clung to her and overwrite it with his own until every silly thought of resurrecting a madman was wiped clean from her brain.

She made some sort of strangled noise that he took to be encouraging, so he did the other one as well, then let her hands drop down to the earth. 

This time, there was no punch forthcoming: only an odd look at him through glassy eyes that could have meant anything.

He felt a little out of his depth: this was certainly never the way he planned his first time placating an omega to go in the slightest, but at this point, what other choice did they have?

He certainly didn’t know the names of any of her lovers, and in this state the idea of handing her off to one of them made him want to kill a man all over again.

“Al…pha?” 

Tiel’s voice broke through his moment of self doubt like a ray of sun piercing the clouds.

“Yes, yes! What do you need?” he asked, desperately hoping for some sort of guidance. 

Some vague thread of this is okay, this is fine, it’s fine if it’s you.

Her mouth parted in a desperate huff and he was suddenly very aware of how her thighs were rubbing together beneath him.

“You…you’re…”

He bent over her, trying to catch her fading voice. 

Thumbed her shoulder comfortingly, all the while creeping closer to the mating gland on her neck…

“...You’re not my alpha…” she sighed, feather-soft.

Something very final and vital snapped inside him at the rejection.

“I think I am, Tiel. It’ll be better that way.” 

Alacran didn’t wait for any further rejection, or even a sound of protest: what he had to do was clear as crystal to him as he laid his hands on her chest and tore open her stupid little blouse that she always kept buttoned low, as if it didn't pain him to see her sternum bared to the world. 

Next to go was the delicate lace collar that covered her gland for politeness, Alacran, don’t you know? We’re coworkers, after all.

Beneath the soft, beaded lace, the gland on her neck was an angry red that called to him like a siren song.

Bite. Bite.

He pulled her up and sat her on his lap, the angle better to get at her all-important neck.

“ Be good. ” he commanded, though he highly doubted she was capable of that in the slightest, considering her general character. 

Nevertheless, she stilled in anticipation, her breath coming out in soft huffs and whimpers that seemed to have a direct line to his groin-a somewhat painful affliction, considering the multiple layers of metal and leather that covered it.

Carefully, mindful of the fact that he was still mostly clad in slightly pointy armour, Alacran cradled her up to his chest and began to mouth along her neck, from the lobes of her sensitive ears down to the pulse that throbbed wildly when he sucked on it until it turned a brilliant red. 

Finally, finally he reached the mating gland and lapped around it, never directly across it until she began to squirm and make utterly enticing sounds. 

Finally, he swiped his tongue across just once and was rewarded with a full body shiver. 

“Al..pha…” she murmured.

“Yeah, that’s it.” He rewarded her by closing his mouth around it and sucking until she made a strangled gasp and gushed slick directly onto his lap, spattering across the armour and leather like rain.

The au’ra felt positively feral as her scent thickened even further, deepening into a rich, enticing smell: fresh earth spread below the orchard.

Riding pure desire, he thrust a hand down between her thighs and scooped up some on his fingers, desperate to know if it tasted the same as it smelled. 

It wasn’t as sweet, but there was perhaps a tint of orange, if he really focused. 

Tiel, however, seemed to decide this wasn’t the time to sample the notes of her slick. 

She grabbed his hand and shoved it back down between her thighs with a groan that was absolutely sinful as she began to desperately attempt to mount his fingertips, through the slit in the soaked fabric of her pantalettes.

“Please, please-”she begged, tears welling up in her pale grey eyes. 

“Hurts, hurts…”

He could deny her nothing when she looked like that, so he shoved sodden layers of lace aside as he carefully felt for her entrance, only mildly distracted by how desperately wet she was. 

He’d never forget the sound she made when the pad of his finger slipped in effortlessly, her cunt eagerly swallowing his finger as she bucked against his hand with a groan.

“More, more” she chanted, rocking back and forth as much as he would let her. 

Alacran hesitated for only a moment before sliding a second one in, trusting that she knew what she was doing. 

It was filthy and unreal, watching her fuck herself on his fingers: Alacran felt almost like he was seeing something he shouldn’t be, until her cunt began spasming around his fingers in tense waves and suddenly he knew exactly what he needed to be doing.

He sealed his mouth around the mating gland and sucked once more, until she clamped down on his fingers with a scream.

“ Alpha! ”

Alacran felt warm satisfaction flood his mind and the alpha in him go pleasantly silent, as if he was finally doing what he should be doing.

He lifted off of the mating gland for just a moment to enjoy the blissful look on her face.

And then he bit down.

#

Alpha was here. 

He didn't smell quite like she had expected: instead of blood, there was the smell of fresh parchment, and instead of ash, the scent of nearly burnt toast, growing stronger, stronger…

It was confusing, more so because he was being so gentle. 

There was something important she was forgetting, something…

She hadn't expected Zenos to be gentle at all, yet her inner omega seemed quite pleased regardless, the way it had melted into her senses, blending in with her mind in a way it so rarely did. 

Full, full… Her mind chanted happily, as the firm fingers inside her crooked a little, moving awkwardly. But she knew what to do, she could be good. 

Singlemindedly, she chased the warm promise of an orgasm, her first one of the heat. 

It didn't take much, not when her alpha smelt so good and talked to her so nicely. 

Just as she felt the familiar clench in her belly wind up tight, he licked across her gland and she saw stars.

That was all it took, and then she was coming, and-

A bite. 

Too soon, something in her howled. 

Too soon, too soon, Alpha wasn’t even in her yet, hadn’t knotted her. 

He hadn’t even kissed her: she didn’t need kisses technically, but she wanted them with every fibre of her being somehow: wasn’t that strange?

Even as her bodily chemistry rewrote itself, synapses firing, dying and reviving under the steady, piercing pressure of his teeth, her omega rebelled.

With a scream of rage, she yanked herself back off of the alpha’s teeth, shoving at his stupid chest to propel backwards off of his lap. 

When she hit the ground, she rolled backwards, got to her feet somehow and staggered away, lifting her hands in a familiar gesture for teleport.

Wrong, wrong, wrong-

#

Omegas were not known for ripping themselves away from an Alpha partway through the mating process, as far as Alacran knew.

He had studied them, after realising that yes, in fact, he was doomed to be working with an annoying omega who always seemed to be getting into trouble.

Perhaps even then he had been instinctually preparing for a day like this, where he was the only option left.

She smelt of distressed omega, as if the trail of blood leaking down her bare shoulder wasn't enough of a tell. 

Something was wrong. 

I have to fix it.

#

The free company house was no place for her heats, Tiel had decided after he moved in. 

Therefore, she bought an apartment just across the ward from them, close enough for people to drop off soup but far enough that they wouldn’t have to meet anyone who came to help.

Alacran had never been further than the front door, just once, when nobody else was available to drop off food.

He could still remember the apartment number, the way there was sealant spread all around the door, keeping scents from leaking out. 

Remembered the way she had looked utterly debauched when she cracked the door open just wide enough to accept the loaf of bread and basket of fruit that he had handed her.

He remembered ignoring the instinctual drive to push open the door, to check on her head to toe. 

The drive to erase the scent of a strange person on her skin and replace it with his own.

Maybe that was where all his troubles had truly started: with her godsdamned scent.

In fact, he could pinpoint the exact moment: Ishgard, at the first appointment with the Lord Commander.

Aymeric had said the fateful words: 

“Not that I am not grateful for your help, both of you. But are you aware that by law, every omega in a public space must be scented by a guardian or mate? Otherwise it incites undesirable behaviour-”

Alacran had honest-to-Halone growled at the thought before Aymeric could even finish.

“What, your men can’t control themselves? What are they, animals?”

“No, I take pride in our troops' discipline, but this is a matter of religious policy…” Alymeric had responded, templing his hands with an apologetic look.

“I am aware that in your home city, things are much more lax, but here…Well, I would not want the Holy See to have a stupid quarrel with you over some supposed licentiousness.”

Alacran had said something deeply cutting against the church, while Tiel had only looked back and forth between them with a tired look on her face. 

“Please, you two. There’s an easy solution, then. I’ll ask Lord Fortemps to do it. He is our advocate, after all.” 

“Oh.” said Aymeric, as if he had expected quite another conclusion.

“No.” said Alacran, without knowing why he said it until a logical explanation arrived in his head.

“You can’t take that old man with you in the field to re-scent you when it wears off.”

This was indeed true, and it appeased Tiel enough that he found himself sitting on a chair in the backroom of Aymeric’s office for privacy with her on his lap.

“So. How do we do this?” he asked, trying to relax and pretend that they were back home, sitting in the living room with the window open to the ocean, rather than in a glorified closet. 

She laughed then with her usual deep chuckle and held out her wrist.

“You’ve never scented anyone before?”

He cocked his head, trying to recall anything from his childhood: surely his mother must have, at some point…

“I’m not sure.” he had to admit finally, unable to separate vague memories of hugs from scentings.

“We-ell, all you really have to do is rub wrists with me until the oils release, but the less silly way to do it is to activate it with your thumb first.” 

She took his hand in hers and pushed up his sleeve to reveal the dark purple flesh below and ran her finger up his wrist in one quick stroke, stopping directly over the tiny bump.

“There we go. Now, this might feel funny if you haven’t done it much…”

He braced himself for an unpleasant sensation: maybe itchy, or ticklish. 

But all he felt was the gentle swipe of her thumb back and forth as she applied gentle pressure.

“This expresses the scent in a much more comfortable way, yeah?”

“Yeah.” he replied, staring down at how tiny her thumb looked against his wrist.

“Gods, you're so small…” He muttered under his breath.

The lalafell cocked her head up at him with a glare. 

“Wow, thanks . Just what every omega loves to hear.” 

“I don't mean it in a bad way! You're uh...delicate!” he protested, looking down at her small frame, which only looked smaller when juxtaposed against his.

Somehow, this displeased her even more. 

“Oh yes, delicate. Me. I'm not a glass figurine!” 

“Okay, okay” he had said, trying to soften the distinct smell of her displeasure: all drying oranges and deep, oily clove. 

“Now do me.” she commanded imperiously, extending her free hand out to him. 

Something seemed to twitch in the back of his brain at her words, but he dutifully took it and began to express her gland as well.

He mostly definitely did not stare at how he could wrap his entire forefinger and thumb around her wrist and have room to spare.

When the final step came, he made sure to rub his wrist against hers firmly, willing the scent of desert flowers to blend with the oranges so deeply that those Ishgardian assholes would never think to hassle her.

The resulting combination of their scents set something at ease in him that he hadn’t known was perturbed. 

Things felt right. 

So he could be excused for also expressing his scent all the way up her arm, for safety’s sake, right?

Tiel hadn’t protested necessarily, though she did complain of overkill, really. 

From then on, until the end of the Dragonsong War, the pair of them fell into a routine that became so unconscious it was “nigh-well unsightly”, according to Estinien anyway.

Apparently wrapping her hair around his wrist while she slept was too much by Ishgardian standards. 

By Tiel’s standards, however, it was free hair-perfume.

Then the war was over, their visits to Ishgard much shortened. 

The need to scent her was over, and slowly she began to pick up other smells again: the bland, minty scent of one of the free company members, the charcoal scent of her cooking mentor…

The scent of an alpha who smelt like lemons, leaving her smelling so strongly of citrus it was like she’d spent her heat in a cleaning chemical closet.

Maybe her heat wouldn’t have been triggered by Zenos’s scent if you’d kept it up. 

Just had to leave her unmarked.

Your fault, your fault. 

#

It was the work of moments to drop by the free company house first, to drop his armour in the entryway and yell into the depths for somebody to bring food to the apartment please gotta go .

He found his way back to her apartment door easily. 

It swung open without him even testing the handle and his instincts flared up immediately.

Anyone could have smelt her and got in, need to protect, claimclaimclaim…

Inside the apartment, the walls were a soft baby-blue and clad in white wainscotting: a far cry from the dizzying array of colours that she always decorated the free company house in. 

It was soft, traditionally omega-like. 

There was a cosy seating area, tiny kitchen and…nothing else except a bookcase. 

But he could smell her, smell her all over, like every single surface had dipped in that marmalade. 

He felt his salivary glands kick up a notch and the need to bite her yet again burned stronger than ever. 

Down in his gut, a dull heat began to grow. 

Rut. 

How long had it been simmering beneath his skin? 

Probably since the very moment you smelled her slick…

Of course it would be her to send him into rut for the first time, he ruefully reflected as he scanned the room once again.

There was a soft sound from somewhere indistinguishable, but Alacran knew immediately what it meant.

Secret passage bookcase. Of course. 

The shelves parted in the middle at a touch, gliding open in a well-oiled movement. 

Immediately beyond he saw a bed piled with an obscene pile of pillows and blankets, lit up by sunlight spilling in through the ceiling-to-floor windows.

The scent of sex, followed immediately by the sight of his mate ( by technicality ) completely naked and squirming in the middle of her nest stopped him dead in his tracks.

No, not squirming. 

Determinedly fucking herself down onto a sizable glass phallus.

“Oh. Gods.” was all he had time to say before her head snapped up and she looked him directly in the eye, just as she sank down another ilm with a full body shudder. 

Alacran couldn’t quite see all of her from his position, but the sound. 

“Al…pha?” she asked, cocking her head to the side.

He swallowed.

“Yeah. It’s me.” 

She shook her head and when she looked back at him, her eyes were clear.

“ No. ” 

The rejection seared through him like a burning iron and for an instant, he could only see red. 

“It’s only me. You're not getting Zenos. I killed him for you. ”

Mine, mine, mine.

Something flew through the air at him and it was only because every one of his senses were firing at full capacity that he could catch it.

A pillow. 

Not just any, but a soft, squashy yellow pillow that he remembered being on his favourite napping couch several months ago before it just…disappeared. 

It still faintly smelt of him.

She put my scent in her nest.

He clung to it like a lifeline: maybe she didn’t hate the idea of him after all, even if he’d somehow managed to fuck things up. 

Another pillow fired his way: this time a red one from the swing outside the free company house. 

“Get out!!! You don’t want me, it’s just your rut!!!” she screamed at him, somehow coherent despite the distracting amount of glass cock inside her.

He let the pillows drop and held up his hands placatingly.

“No. I want to be here.”

He took a step forward warily, expecting an equally plush missile to come his way.

“I realised it only now, but I want you. Is that okay?” 

A purple pillow flew by his left ear at a terrifying speed for a pillow and Alacran held perfectly still.

“N…no, you don’t.” she responded, already reaching for another pillow.

“I wouldn’t have bit you unless I wanted you! What kind of knot-headed idiot do you think I am??” he pleaded, aware even as he spoke that the growing bulge in his trousers was doing nothing to help his argument.

Accursed biology.

Tiel brandished her newest missile and shifted in the bed just a bit, her hips rocking hypnotically. Her eyes glazed over for a moment, but she held steady.

“Then why did you stop scenting me?? I thought you liked me, really properly and then…then it was just over. ”

“Oh.” He stood there dumbly for a minute, unable to even dissect what was happening anymore over the rising tide. 

“I…like you…so…I wanted to respect…that? I…”

How could he explain the immediate sense of loss he had felt when the scent first began to fade, overtaken by the scent of mint? How it had made him feel like an idiot, wanting to mark someone who wasn’t even his?

“I didn’t want to be a possessive asshole, okay? But it’s a little late now.” 

He looked meaningfully at the drying blood on her shoulder. 

“I. Well. Probably repressed things... Can I please come closer?”

She lowered the pillows ever so slightly and inclined her head.

“You…want me. You want me enough that you blew your bite early.”

“Can you please not call it that?” he begged. 

A pillow hit his hip.

“Idiot. Come here before I lose my mind again. We don’t have much time.”

He scrambled forward until he was hovering just at the edge of the bed, suddenly deeply aware of the fact that he was near her nest. 

“Well? Get in.” she commanded, pointing at an empty spot.

“Oh gods.” he choked, then climbed in carefully, unwilling to disturb a single pillow from its perfect pattern of chaos.

He was in an omega’s nest. 

It was unreal: something he had only even written about in his romance novels and now he was in one. Specifically, he was in one with the demon-woman who had somehow enchanted him with her cheesecake and terrible crop tops.

Somehow he had imagined it to be a more…holy experience. 

Instead, he sat at her feet with his knees pulled up uncomfortably to give her space as she leaned forward with a wince. 

He decidedly did not look at how she had worked her way down to the base of the dildo, otherwise he feared he might snap then and there.

“This is your first rut, yeah?”

“Yes.” he admitted.

She swayed a little, then got a hold of herself.

“Okay. There's lube under the bed and birth control potions on that shelf. Give me one per day if I’m not coherent enough to take them myself. And make sure we eat something.”

“How do you want me to…start?” he asked carefully, even as he felt more blood rush downwards at the idea of doing anything to her.

She gave him an unimpressed look.

“As soon as possible. In the next minute, really. Before I climb you like a tree.”

“Any…requests?” He asked, struggling to find the right word as a haze seemed to settle over his vision.

“Pin me down and fuck me up. That's what my omega wants, that's why she got set off by Zenos.” she said point-blank, as forthright as ever.

He cringed at the thought.

“I don’t want to…hurt you, especially not like he would.” 

A small, brown hand landed on his knee.

“You won’t. Besides, I don’t break…easily.”

That was all the assurance he got before she suddenly winced and began begging “Out, out” as her hands scrabbled at the base of the glass phallus, only to slip off futilely in the puddle of slick that had pooled under her.

Alacran breathed in the scent of marmalade once more, then closed his hand around the base of rounded glass.

He pulled it out slowly, methodically watching how her toes curled, her neck strained as she flung it back until the tendons popped out.

Watched how her cunt gave it up reluctantly, with a sticky, sucking sound. 

As the very tip dropped out, it was followed by a dewy trickle of arousal. She made some sort of pleading sound and all sense left his body.

In an instant, Alacran was on her, caging her in with his body and pinning her down to the bed. 

Small . 

Something in him rejoiced in it: the exhilarating feeling of having someone who was so small, it was effortless to cage them in, to protect them.

It was right. 

It was exactly how it should have been, from the first moment he caught her scent and found himself yearning for orange juice. 

He should have known then, should have pinned her to the nearest surface and bit.

It was a struggle to even take the time to yank down his pants- when had he become so achingly hard? 

It was the work of a moment to notch the very tip of his cock into the soft gape of her cunt and the fact that it was that easy drove him insane.

Alacran worked his way in with tiny movements, watching her face for any sign of distress. 

When her eyebrows knit together halfway through, he held still only by the skin of his teeth, so deep was the yearning to ram himself deep into every single ilm she had to give.

He wasn’t sure if it would even all fit, now that he was taking the time to enjoy the sight of her puffy, swollen cunt swallowing him up.

Logically, this was no great loss, but logic had long departed the building and in its place, his instincts were howling that he needed to knot her, now.

#

Full. Goodyesgood. 

There was the pinch that Tiel was used to, but the unfettered relief of being filled was nothing in comparison: she would have walked over shattered glass to be filled to the hilt during the heats she’d spent alone. 

And then he had stopped, like the knight in shining armour he was. 

Fine. I’ll do it myself. 

With a greatly uncoordinated but determined wriggle, she shifted her hips, trying to take more of him in. It was hard work, the way he had her pinned by the shoulders, and the way he was growling at her like he wanted her to stop. 

But she was nothing if not the most stubborn healer in Eorzea, so she kept right on going until she felt him give in, felt his hands shift to her shoulders to brace and heard his teeth clack together as if he was holding back from biting her again. 

And then he rammed in, carving a space in her stomach for himself and she keened with delight. 

It was not for nothing that Zenos had seemed appealing: but Alacran was even better because he was alive and nice and wouldn’t kill her after. 

“More, more” she urged, clenching down hard so he couldn’t change his silly mind.

It might kill her if he did, now that she knew what he was like in rut, what he smelt like in rut: like slightly burnt toast, like the books at home in the sun and the flowers of her childhood. 

Home, home. 

She fumbled a hand down between her legs desperately, needing friction now, now-

“That’s it, good job” her mate groaned, just as he thrust in and found the right angle finally finally. 

It took very little, only a few jittery strokes and then she was coming, half-drunk on his thick scent.

Alacran groaned one final time, like he was pained by something and then he stilled, coming deep inside her while her omega keened in satisfaction.

For a moment, she was simply limp, riding the aftershocks of her orgasm and then there was a sudden, blinding pressure. 

His knot. 

It seemed to go on and on, until white lights danced behind her eyelids and her flesh was hot, hot, so hot had she ever been so hot-

“Al…pha” she slurred, too limp to do something about it.

“Something’s…wrong…”

#

Something’s wrong. 

The words made his heart skip a beat in terror, even as he floated in the utterly indescribable pleasure of having his knot buried deep inside a fluttering cunt for the first time.

All of the sudden, he felt how her flesh was feverish to the touch, how her limbs were limp on the sheets. 

Finish it . 

Without knowing why, he lowered his head over her neck once again.

It was a tight angle, and his horns protested at the strange contortion, but there was nothing more important than this. 

The bite he had left just a scant time ago was beginning to dry, but the mark itself was jagged where she had ripped her way off and something in him told him not done. 

He lined his incisors up with the original marks as best he could, and then bit down hard, willing it to take this time, binding her to him fast enough that she couldn't bring herself to leave. 

The mark was sure to be nasty and unmistakable to anyone with functioning eyes: a thought that left him deeply satisfied. 

When he finally let go, her shoulder was smeared with blood. 

That wouldn't do at all.

Alacran licked it clean, knowing that she'd insist on it if she was conscious enough to do so, and followed a thin trail of blood down her bare chest.

Her nipples were pebbled in arousal: how had he missed that? It seemed utterly important.

He lapped up the last drop of blood, then dragged his tongue across one nipple, then the other. 

They looked utterly tantalising drowned in his saliva, so next he sucked the scant swell of her breast into his mouth, fully intent on leaving a hickey that would no doubt infuriate her upon waking up. 

She should come again , he thought. 

Twice was not nearly enough. 

That was how she awoke, with his mouth on her chest and his fingers fumbling for her swollen clit. 

Her eyes flickered open and looked at him with blessed clarity. 

“Of course your knot is stupidly big.”

“Hello to you too” he choked, and inexplicably felt his knot swell even further if that were even possible.

She winced at the sensation and lifted her knees to her chest with a sigh. 

“This’ll be more comfortable for the both of us.” she explained even as Alacran felt something relax around him with the shift.

“Ah. Noted.”

She smiled, then looked down at his hand.

“Well? Aren’t you going to finish what you started?”

“Oh.”

Doing it while she was looking was a hundred times more nerve racking than doing it while she was locked in the throes of passion, he decided after a minute of carefully circling her clitoris to seemingly very little effect. 

“I…hm. A little direction?”

Her eyes twinkled at him from between her legs.

“At last. You learn faster than some.”

The compliment sank in, followed by the realisation that there had been a secret test, because of course there was.

She gave him very little time to stew in it, however.

“First of all, take off your shirt. And the pants, if you can. Carefully. ”

He immediately shucked his shirt off over his head, but the pants proved too tight to drop further than his knees.

“Well, it’s…a start…” she sighed and gave him an indignant glare.

“It was really very rude to get this far and not get equally naked, you know! I had to get mated practically topless in an open garden, while you were wearing a full suit of armour! And then you didn’t even strip before knotting me…Really now, where’s your sense of justice?”

“I’m…sorry.” 

He really was, when she put it like that. 

There was an order to things, traditionally and they had managed to skip over at least a half-dozen steps. 

“I got carried away.” he admitted.

“I’ll say! But well…thank you. Without you, I’d be either dead or knotted with a Garlean prince.” She wrinkled her nose and sighed. “I suppose we can both plead temporary insanity.”

He nodded gratefully and licked his thumb.

“So. Circles, or?” 

Tiel rocked her hips experimentally, then shook her head.

“No, your knot’s about to go down. Let’s just wait until you can pull out.”

She gave him an evil smile.

“And then you can do the world’s shortest strip tease and figure out how to eat me out without puncturing me with your horns.”

#

As it turned out, the lesson in eating out was cut short by the resurgence of her heat and her insistence that he should knot her again, this instant.

This time, he got to experience the absolutely mind-blowing sensation of fucking his knot into her until it caught while she dug her fingernails into his forearms like she was dying.

“You’re going to kill me, Alpha” she gasped as he finally, finally managed to bottom out, locking into place as he flooded her cunt with his come.

“Well we can’t have that.” he grunted, utterly distracted by the way her neck was arched beneath him.

Perhaps he could bite the other side too, for symmetry.  

There wasn’t even a gland there, but…the unmarred skin called to him like a siren song. 

It would be overkill. 

It would be…

Lovers mark each other all the time in romance novels-

Not like that, idiot.

He dropped his head against hers with a groan, forehead to forehead.

“I’m going mad. I want to bite you on the other side too.”

“Then do it. I’m sure I’ll survive.” she urged, lucid now that her cunt was milking the last dregs from him with pulsing movements that he was almost sure were practised. 

And wasn’t that a thought, that she was practised-

A growl at the idea found its way out of him against his best efforts to quash it. 

“Why…are you so trusting? Are you always like this with other alphas?”

“Always like what?” She asked hazily and reached up to pat his arm in a calming gesture.

“Always so…defenceless?” he asked, utterly gutted by the sight of her tilting her head to offer the empty expanse of warm, brown skin on the other side of her throat.

He cupped the thin flesh of her throat with just a few fingers and felt her heart beating humming-bird quick beneath the skin. 

She melted as he placed his thumb across the other side, giving her throat a gentle squeeze. 

“ Alphaaa…mark me… ” she groaned, pressing her own hands on top of his when he tried to let go.

“Answer me, Tiel. I need to know if you’re always like this.” he begged, unable to make it a command when he was dealing with the idea of her begging for this from anyone else.

It seemed to take her a moment to gather her brain cells and when she responded, it was just as terrifying and exhilarating as he suspected.

“Just for you. I trust you.”

“Tiel. I'm barely hanging on. I could…hurt you…” He gasped, nightmares flooding his mind-a hundred tawdry news stories about alpha loses control, kills in throes of passion recalled in an instant.

“I took…your measure… long ago…” she gasped beneath the heavy weight of their hands, until he could feel the harsh air in her windpipe as she struggled to get the words out.

Gods.

There was no recovering from this, he knew. 

Even if she refused to bite him back by the end of her heat, he would follow her to the ends of the earth to keep anyone else from touching her. 

How could he not?

He tightened his fingers for just a moment and felt her cunt convulse around him, and then he let go and sank his teeth into the unmarred side of her neck.  

And the rut descended. 

When he finally returned to himself, they were locked together again, this time with both sides of her neck equally marked. 

An array of florid hickeys were scattered across her skin, and his arm was bleeding from several more abrasions where she must have dug her nails into his skin, marking him in her own way.

Something curled inside of him, deeply satisfied at the sight. 

As he rolled his hips minutely, instinctually trying to press his release deeper inside a very deep part of him wondered if maybe, just maybe it might take, despite the daily potion she had been using.

The thought grew unchecked: he imagined her soft and swollen with his child. 

Glowing. Radiant. 

Probably a little angry about getting sore feet: babies gave you sore feet, right?

#

Morning dawned after a long night of being woken up every few hours for sex. 

Alacran had decided that was the worst part of heats: being woken up. The only way he survived was the rut deciding that yes, you are in fact going to be equally aroused and up for the occasion.

As his lover rolled over in bed next to him, whining sleepily at the sunlight slipping in through the curtains, Alacran remembered his assigned duties. 

It was time for the daily potion.

He went to the shelf, uncorked it to pour into a cup for her… and then stopped. 

It would be very easy to replace the liquid with something else: the cupboards were full of juice and wine, thanks to her exacting preparations.

Perhaps she wouldn’t even notice, if she was out of it…

And then he could…

As he stood paralyzed, soft footsteps padded up behind him.

“What's wrong? They're all the same, so there's no wrong choice.”

Mortified, he swung around clutching the potion to his chest, as if she could tell what he was thinking.

“I…” 

She wrinkled her nose. 

“You smell…worried.” 

“My alpha… was saying I shouldn’t give it to you.” 

He felt shame wash over him now that he was saying it out loud.

“I feel the need to… Well, to…”

She raised an eyebrow and stuck out her hand imperiously. 

“Give it here.”

Helplessly, he held out the dark blue bottle and rather forlornly watched her swallow her fertility away.

The sound of the bottle being recorked was loud in the silent room.

“Now that that's done…”

She set the empty bottle down and smiled.

“It would be deeply scandalous if the warriors of light had a bastard child, so if you want to knock me up, we need to get married first.”

“Married? Knock you up?”

He ran a trembling hand through his sweat-soaked hair.

“You're not mad at me for being…deranged?”

Tiel chuckled in her low voice, the one she did when she was deeply, supremely amused. 

“It's not a crime to have pervy thoughts like that, especially when this is your first rut. It's just instincts working in overdrive, okay?”

“But…”

The twinkle in her eyes softened into something affectionate.

“What matters is that you stopped yourself, Alacran. Now, if you want to make up for your dreadfully unholy thoughts, go run me a bath while I attempt to make some sort of breakfast.”

On auto-pilot, he went to the tiny bathroom tucked away in the corner of the bedroom and turned the taps.

The water gushed out, sending clouds of steam up into the air. 

He found a jar full of the bath beads she liked using in the bathtub at home and tipped a handful in, then stood staring at the tub as it filled.

“ Knock her up? ”

That didn't begin to describe what he wanted to do at all. 

He shut the taps off and stormed back into the kitchen.

“I don’t want to just knock you up. I want to impregnate you. Purposefully . Repeatedly. ” he said all at once, so that he couldn’t change his mind.

Tiel set down the butter knife she had been holding slowly, her face flushed a bright red.

“Ah.”

“Yes, ah. ” he growled, restraining the urge to storm across the kitchen and show her The Benefits Of Procreation that very instant.

“Well…I…..I…”

Her face was flushed a shade of red darker than any he’d ever seen before. 

“I…see. You’re sure?”

“Am I sure? ”

He closed the gap between them in an instant and seized her hands in his.

“I want it desperately. I’m going mad. Look at me.” 

He thrust her hands down onto the erection in his small clothes that had been raging ever since he’d stood over the bathtub thinking about her swollen with his child for the thirtieth time.

“Please.”

He wasn't even sure what he was begging for: it was too late, she'd taken the potion, she’d set the rules for babies. 

She cocked her head to the side like she did whenever she was making carpentry calculations, and then her expression softened. 

“Oh.” She said, her already low voice dropping perhaps an octave more. The scent in the air thickened from marmalade and spice to the whole orange grove.  

“You want to breed me, like the old days. To hold me down and give me an entire litter of children, like a…a farm animal.”

Terror crawled up his spine because when she said it like that, it sounded monstrous. 

“Alacran…Alpha… That's really perverted.”

His heart sank.

And then she gave him a blindingly cheerful look, the kind she gave people right before the killing blow.

“It's hard work, breeding. I think you'd better practise during this heat, hm?”

For a moment, the kitchen was utterly silent as he took in her words incredulously, and then he knelt down and kissed her ferociously, teeth clicking against hers while she made a noise that might have laughter or a high pitched moan.

Her hands ran through his hair, stroking down through his dishevelled locks with feather-soft touches as he redoubled his efforts to wring another one of those moans out of her by exploring every ilm of the wet little cavern of her mouth. 

She tasted like butter and crackers-no surprise there-and submitted herself entirely to his demanding explorations with a softness that both surprised him and drove him wild with the desire to hoist her up onto the counter and utterly debauch her.

It was only when he laid a hand to the loose cotton robe that she had wrapped around herself for decency that she held up her hand.

“Stop. Breakfast and bath first, then excessive ravaging.”

“But…” he panted, feeling like he had just run a marathon.

“I can smell you. You need it.”

The lalafell raised one eyebrow and smirked.

“Yes. But I also need to be kept from starving, Alpha. Don’t you want to make sure I’m well fed and taken care of before trying your hardest to breed me?”

“I…Yes.”

Yes, he did, now that he had time to think about it-gods, it was his rut doing the thinking for him.

“How do you ignore.. this? ” he asked, trying to reign in his instincts.

“Experience. I’ve been having heats for oh…seventeen years or so? You learn how to address your needs. I’m not some callow youth-and good thing, considering I'm robbing the cradle here.”

Alacran furrowed his brow, slightly insulted. 

“Robbing the cradle ?”

“You do know I'm thirty-four, right?” she asked, tilting her head to the side worriedly.

Of course he did: he’d helped her press all thirty-four candles firmly into the frosting of her birthday cake a few months ago, but it hadn’t even registered in his mind as something to care about.

“I’m very far from the cradle, Tiel.”

She gave him a look, then acquiesced. 

“I suppose I've practised enough black magic that I probably won't age at a regular rate. So, if you think about it, it’s a less troublesome age gap than it seems.”

“Only you would solve a problem that doesn’t exist with black magic” he groused and sat down at the table in front of the very large pot of oatmeal that she had somehow cooked in just a few minutes. 

“For the record, Tiel” he said as he took a serving and poured enough honey over it to drown a child “You would smell just as good to me if you were fifty. So.”

He watched as her face flushed bright enough to almost rival the jam she was dolloping on hers.

“O…oh. You like it that much?”

“Yes.” He said simply and debated the efficacy of eating oatmeal with the larger serving spoon to make this go faster.

#

Alpha likes your scent. 

It was such a simple thing, but Tiel felt like blushing like a school maiden. 

Not one person had ever bothered to tell her that: they had always been more preoccupied with the fact that she was the Warrior of Light, an all-accomplished healer and tradesperson. 

And that was all well and good, but…

But her heart was a ravenous little demon, eager for praise outside of splendid sutures, amazing god-killing, delicious cake.

And if age didn’t matter to him, well then. 

Far be it from her to avoid taking what she wanted.

She barely tasted the oatmeal as she stared across the table, getting to take in the sight of Alacran, stripped down from his usual attire. 

He was all muscle, faint scars and an open expanse of mostly unmarked skin. 

I’ll have to fix that later she thought, wondering what colour hickies come through like on purple skin. 

Fair was only fair. 

And then, after that there was so much more they could do: most of it likely to fry his brain, which would be extremely funny.

Once she had doggedly eaten enough oatmeal to feed a small horse and drank down several glasses of water- nothing like slick production to dehydrate a girlie - she made her move. 

“Alphaa… I think you’d better carry me to the bath.”

He gave her a look that she always thought of as the worried grandpa look.

“Are you feeling alright? Is there any pain?!”

Gotcha.

“Nooo…but…” 

She languidly spread her legs on her chair, letting the movement draw his eye downwards.

“It's just…all this talk about breeding got me all…messy.” 

Her legs parted wide enough that he could see the puddle of slick that had gathered below her. 

Normally this was the most uncomfortable part of the heat, outside of pain, but it was almost worth it when she got to see his eyes dilate in real time and a hand slam down on the table in frustration. 

“Aw, something got you pent up, Alpha?” she teased, even as she felt a wave of arousal wash over her once more, very insistently.  

Alacran stared her dead in the eye, his limbral rings gleaming bright in the low light of morning. 

“Say one more word and you're not making it to that bath.”

She met his gaze dead-on.

“Word.”

He moved faster than she'd ever seen him move: if she hadn't been so seasoned in battle, she wouldn't have even known how she ended up on the floor, pinned down by the hands while he ripped her robe apart.

“You're fucking torment, omega ” he growled and something in her purred with satisfaction.

“I’m sorryyyy” she laughed, even as her robe was ripped apart despite the Ishgardian seams inside-something that lit up the strong so strong part of her brain that made her want to spread her legs like a whore. 

“Should I make it up to you, Alpha? Should I present for you, all proper?”

He’d like that, romantic that he was. 

All sweet and old fashioned in a way that sent a spike of lust up her stomach when she stopped to think about it.

Old fashioned meant rules, which meant more things to break.

His head dropped to her stomach with a groan of defeat that sent giddy joy all through her.

“ Yes. ”

“Then you’ll have to let me roll over, hm?”

When her knees wobbled as she got up onto her hands, a hand was there to steady her, to tip her back further down toward the floor and coax her posture to something more than floppy limbed sagging.

“Sorry, I haven’t done this in a while, most people prefer…” she nervously exclaimed, then stopped herself when a soft growl sounded from behind her.

Why talk about others? Just going to make him angry.

“Shh. Spread those legs a little more, or I’ll never get in” he said, with a tone more strained than she’d ever heard in her life, even when he was stuck in political meetings.

One large hand slid between her thighs and coaxed them wider, while the other pushed lightly down on her shoulders.

“There, like that.”

She let out a choked giggle as the cool morning air met her now-exposed cunt. 

“Did you learn the right position from a book?” she teased, and then mortifyingly felt a gush of slick slide out of her when he laughed at her.

Was this always so embarrassing? 

“Maybe. Could be I’m deeply studied in the best positions for breeding mouthy omegas.”

“Oh…gods” she gasped and felt the white hot knife of arousal flash through her stomach at the very thought. 

What a nerd.

“Please. Do it already.” she begged as another gush of slick splashed down onto the floor with an audible spatter. 

There was a rustle of fabric, no doubt the sound of him shucking off his small clothes. 

“Do what?” he asked. 

Smug bastard.

Two could play at that kind of game.

“Aren't you going to give me babies, Alpha ? Don’t you want to see me all swollen with your child while I'm in a war room? Make everyone have to think about how it wasn't enough to mark me twice?”

With every filthy sentence she uttered, she grew more entranced with the idea. Filthy, filthy. 

Audacious. 

Perfect.

Alpha hooked a finger into her cunt, dragging down against a spot that left her trembling in anticipation as he crooked his fingers, dragging them through her so slow she could cry. 

The whole room smelt of heavy flowers, so thick she could almost feel the pollen in her nose while the toast smell of his rut blended with her marmalade so closely that she could taste it on her teeth. 

“We smell like breakfast together.” she gasped, just as he dragged a thumb across her clit and her hips bucked involuntarily.

There was no room for any other words, not when another finger joined the second and her belly twisted with the raw feeling of it, but he laughed all the same. 

“I suppose so. Estinien would hate this.”

She meant to ask what that meant, because huh? 

But there was no room for more words, not with the way her brain diverted all of its power to the feeling of a third finger getting added, just for a moment before she told him to get on with it, that doesn’t hurt. 

“Impatient.” he said, with the kind of tone that implied it was a curse. 

All the same, he dragged his fingers out and replaced them with the now familiar, exhilarating press of his cock. 

Only this time, with the angle changed and her head pressed down to the floor and her heart pounding in her sternum it was all a bit much. 

The stretch felt endless, bruising and molten as he bottomed out, settling deep down inside the twisting folds of her guts, almost reaching the bad-good-too much part of her that she had been unlucky enough to feel prodded once before.

Her shoulder twinged where the skin was still knitting together and the world narrowed straight down to pain and sensation and everything was…was…

Hot, wet. 

Tears, she vaguely realised from a thousand miles away. 

Well, that makes sense, what with my nerves frayed to shit.

It had been impossible to say no to the fantasy of this is real, and let’s have children. 

So she had let herself sink into the role, a role she had always wanted to play and so rarely got to.

Misery was a familiar companion in times like these: here she was sitting so close to the promise of together and yet so very far, and stretched just beyond what was sensible, despite her rejection of a preparing hand. 

Soaring, right before the inevitable end where you give the very best you can only to have your biology feel betrayed when the other person leaves at the end. 

Because they always did. 

This time, Tiel thought, she’d split apart after: not from her guts but the heart, sinew and affection rupturing and dying. 

This was why most people mated early, rather than suffer the inevitable crash every time. 

Eventually, it would be too much. 

No, this time would be the too much.

“...Are you alright?” 

Alacran’s familiar voice, more tender than she’d ever heard, trickled into her mind slowly.

It was impossible to explain the entire writhing mass of emotion welling inside her, so all she could say was “Don’t do too much. Don’t…” and hope that somehow, he would impossibly understand. 

A heavy hand closed down on her neck, clamping over her gland and she shuddered, mind going blissfully blank for a moment. 

“ Trust me .” he said and somehow, it worked. 

Slowly, ever so slowly he pulled back, hand still scruffing her in a way that should have felt undignified but felt like cool blankets on a summer night.

The next thrust came slow, gliding effortlessly now that she was too relaxed to resist.

“There we go, this good?” 

“ Yes. ” she hissed, trying to convey exactly how much with the scant air in her lungs.

It was easy then, amazingly easy to accept the steady drive of his hips as he pressed deep, until his hips met the flesh of her ass in a way that should be too much but was somehow not enough. 

“ More .” she demanded as every fibre of her body began to yearn for the promise of seed, Alpha breeding us-

“ Go on, breed me .”

The hand tightened around her neck as he growled.

“Look at you. Never thought I’d get to do this.”

And then it was nothing but a silent onslaught as he drove into her with the sole intent of filling her up while she could barely move a limb to even touch herself. 

Reduced to nothing more than a hole to fill she thought and felt the edge of an orgasm slam into her at the very thought. 

Just then, he hooked an arm under her stomach and dragged her up, further impaling her. 

“Can't believe you… getting bred on the kitchen floor like…like…”

“Don’t say it.” she begged, tears somehow still in her eyes. 

“ Never. ” he vowed.

#

This must be what drunkenness feels like , he thought, giddy with the idea that he held the shards of her heart in his hands. 

Because he had put the pieces together long ago, really. 

Knew exactly how her face would freeze up for an instant whenever she would overhear someone say I didn't realise that the Warrior of Light dresses like an omegan whore before it would inevitably smooth out and she would pounce on them, embarrassing them and leaving them befuddled in a way entirely unique to her.

Just the once he had snapped: the very first time he heard it. 

It had just been some offhanded comment in The Quicksand after a long day: wait, is that really the Scion's healer? She looks like a total half gil whore! 

He would have been inclined to agree: somehow she managed to make a sailor’s outfit look utterly whoreish that day. 

But he had also listened to her explain the exact cuteness points of the scarf, Alacran, see? And the length of the skirt balances out the amount of cloth on top, I adjusted it myself and it's so suited for the quicksand here in Cutter’s cry because-

So he had turned on his heel and stalked over to the table full of miners fresh off their shift.

“I heard you. Shut your fucking mouths.” he demanded, slamming a gauntlet on the table.

The group had looked at him strangely.

“What’s it matter to you, ‘s just the truth!” one of them drunkenly protested, swinging his tankard around.

“She’s with me .” He had said, plus something about possible violence. 

“Sorry, didn't know she was your mate” the most diplomatic of the group had finally said and he had eagerly latched onto it because yes, that would explain why he felt so angry on behalf of a small woman who mostly tormented him via her collection of thigh high stockings. 

Much easier than she’s a very interesting friend to have.

“Now that we've cleared that up, you'll shut up from now on, yeah?”

He had ignored, or perhaps simply buried the tiny rush of exhilaration upon hearing the words your mate. 

Had chalked it up to protective instincts.

He should have known then.

#

Tiel had thought she had likely, probably, definitely not felt so thoroughly fucked in at least ten years half way through her first orgasm, but then she felt his knot pop just outside her cunt, the engorged flesh sitting flush against her oversensitive hole with a lewd promise. 

“Wa..it..ah…” she panted, desperately trying to relax in preparation , but the new angle made things feel three times larger as he rubbed it up against her. 

“I don…think…”

Then he slammed into her to the hilt, knot popping inside her with a definitively wet sound and she keened at the sensation of him forcing it in, pressing deep.

“You said to fuck you up.”

“I…” she gasped, but he ignored her, already pulling out almost to the tip as her cunt fluttered around the new, aching emptiness left in the wake of his half formed knot before plunging back in. 

“ So stay down. ”

Oh, this was it. The subtle, bruising ache of feeling some new space in you carved out and filled with sticky desire. 

She couldn’t move. She couldn’t move .

Have to take it, have to- her omega chanted gleefully, blissfully unaware of the potion she had downed. 

Every thrust felt enormous, inescapable, and for the first time in a long time, she let herself sink down into the rare, sweet pleasure of being nothing but a vessel. 

Hard to do with someone you barely know, who smells wrong, who doesn’t understand things like obeying pillow rules and not calling names. 

But here, with the familiar smell of her oldest friend, with the heart-achingly familiar feel of being close to his chest and his voice echoing in her ears so that she knew it was him, for sure, she could go. 

Leave. 

Brain departed. 

Goodbye world, Tiel out. 

#

Alacran could vaguely tell the moment things shifted, when her body sank into an easy compliance that felt like a reward at the end of a long journey.

But it wasn’t until a soft, purring sound came from her that he really realised that the lalafell he knew was utterly gone, only her bare instincts left behind.

Instincts that came rapidly to the fore when she started to rock back against him with mindless, uncoordinated movements, trying to sink his knot deeper into her fluttering cunt.

“...pha…” she sighed, whisper-soft, like a prayer. 

It did something to him, made it feel the same way it felt when you stood in the transept of the church and felt maybe not the gods, but something. 

Something that was inexplicably holy, something that felt right. 

Perhaps they had always been fated to end up like this, across the ages. 

He could see it: a century where she was a simple village maiden, taller then than now and he perhaps a farm boy, or a time when she had been a knight, and he the maiden fair.  

Always meeting, always this feels right.

An endless array of good morning, toast? And I love you, I love you, isn’t that funny, how did it come to this?

#

Her glasses were missing, Tiel vaguely noticed as she slowly floated back up to consciousness, shoving down the now nearly sated feral thing that sat in her way.

And there was a bed, now.

Very nice, much better than the kitchen floor. 

“Really, what was I thinking…” she sighed, shifting uncomfortably at the feeling of him still inside her.  

“The kitchen. Where I cook…” 

Behind her, Alacran made some sort of strange growling sound that definitely did not make her want to offer him her neck yet again in keen submission. 

No sir, that would be deranged. 

But there was no response, no snarky rejoinder which was a little alarming.

She tried to crane her head up, to look at him because it was all well and good to have his arm banded over her collarbones, pinning her to his chest, but she wanted to bloody look him in the eye. 

When she finally managed to get her head free enough to look, glowing limbral rings met her gaze. The usual yellow colour was tainted, almost bloody from vessels burst and the look that she was given was not Alacran. 

It was the beast that usually sat very deep down inside him, under several layers of determination to not be ruled by something as stupid as leftover instincts from some sort of vaguely lupin era.

Its gaze pierced straight through her, and she instinctually shuddered in his grasp.

“ Omega. Stay. ” it commanded, despite the fact that she was not only impaled on his now limp cock but being clutched to his chest like some sort of little beast. 

“Okay.” she said cautiously, well aware that the person she knew was likely buried malms deeps under waves of desire.

There was an approving sound, and she waited for a minute for his nerves to settle before broaching the obvious.

“Alpha. We're not knotted anymore. You can let me go.”

“Need to keep the seed inside of you.” he replied, the arm tightening across her chest.

“Oh.” she said, dumbly.

Something in that statement set off a deep feeling of helplessness in her hindbrain that made her want to roll off of him and present all over again.

“It has to stay in, so it will take. It's hard to breed you. I've been trying…”

His voice faded off and she felt a cloud of bitter, burnt-toast-despair settle around them.

Gross . 

She let her scent drift over him sweetly, trying to lift his mood.

“You’ve been doing a good job, Alpha. The best I’ve ever had.”

“...Truly?’ 

There was a hitch in his voice, something that melted her heart like butter and made her think why did I ignore instinct so long, stupid, stupid.

“Truly, super truly. You’re going to doubt me on this?” she asked, trying to aim for light hearted.

The arm around her loosened a little and he made some sort of low growling sound that did wonders for her slick production.

“I only doubt because you keep waking up, little omega.”

“We must not be in total sync yet, your rut is supposed to ease when my heat does. It’ll come.” she soothed, finally extracting one arm from his grip so she could pat him comfortingly.

Though it would sync better if I mated you back she thought for one delicious moment, then remembered that people are not equipped to make Great Big Life Decisions while blinded by lust.

“Now. I really need a bath. Can you send Alacran back up? Unless the spectre of wolves past knows how to operate my taps…?” she asked and was rewarded by a laugh. 

Evidently wolves have a sense of humour. Better write that one down for Alacran later.

It’s pathetic really, how she always squirrelled away little bits of things for him like some woodland creature. Always dropping a tidbit of information about what girls these days like for your reference materials, you know. Or bringing him her newest culinary invention say you like it, that it’s good that I’m-

Or, most egregious of all and really desperately flagrant: the candles she’d made. Orange peel, cloves, beeswax for your late night writing. 

If he could survive burning them late at night without a thought of her in mind, then really, he has no interest , she told herself. 

(She didn’t know they sat in a chest on his desk, opened reverently to breath in the smell like fine incense.)

In the middle of all that, he pulled out and she felt a rush of liquid follow, sliding down onto the sheets below- I really hope I remembered to put down a rubber undersheet, ye gods- in a puddle of general cold disgustingness.

“Wow. You really tried.” she croaked at last, staring in disbelief.

“Hm.” was his only response, something pained in it.

“I'll teach your better half about judiciously placed pillows instead, okay? Then you can be sure that it's all rolling down to the cervix without making me warm you like a…an uncooked sausage.”

That didn’t warrant a response, evidently, because he just hoisted her in his arms and carried her towards the bathtub. 

Despite her functioning legs. 

It was a little difficult to turn the taps while being held by a handsy au’ra, especially since her tub was lalafell height, but somehow she managed.

“Alright. Now we get in.” she commanded, pointing at the rising water.

The man considered the tub, then gingerly got in, sliding her down to sit between his legs.

Tiel groaned a sound of relief as the warm water hit her many sore lower regions and ignored how the cock at her back seemed to twitch at the sound.

“Pass me that soap, please?” 

The alpha gravely handed her the bottle and watched as she dumped a generous glob onto a washcloth.

“Now, bend down. You’ve got my cum all over your face, mister.”

That was how Alacran found himself suddenly self-aware again: with a faceful of soap suds and a lapful of chiding lalafell.

#

With the peak of the heat over, her need began to slack, and sex slowed down to more indulgent, slower things, including a lazy handjob that ended up with him gently pushing the come inside her with no more than a single finger, thanks to the soreness from several days of copious coupling.

Late at night, possibly the last night before the heat would break, she lay on top of his chest, tracing lines between the marks she had left on his skin like constellations while humming the heinous papaya song. 

It was oddly domestic, all things considered. 

The things being considered being that he could feel his own come leaking out of her onto his stomach. 

At length, she lifted her head with a hazy smile.

“You know, you smell like daddy did, all desert flowers…”

“Oh.” he said.

She never talked about her father, not since the day she had paid off his debt, only to realise there was no hope of finding him again.

“He was old copper coins too, but I like your parchment better.” 

Alacran bathed in the intimacy of it, part of him beginning to believe that this was real, that after her heat was over, they would stay this way.

Mates. Bonded. 

They could save the reciprocal bite for this wedding that was apparently important for their reputation, despite the fact that people in their hero worship would probably ignore murder, let alone bastard children.

…Then he remembered her propensity to come up with the absolute worst ideas when left alone. 

“Oh gods…” he muttered, beginning to see the inevitable spiral now.

Tiel’s head popped up worriedly.

“What's wrong? Regretting something?”

“I knew it…” he sighed, then gave her a serious please for the love of Halone listen kind of look.

“Please bite me back.”

Without a reciprocal bite, he knew that her marks would eventually fade and his claim would be null and void.

“Then…this is for real? Actually for real?” She asked, looking entirely too surprised for his liking. 

“Yes, Tiel. Like I said, I wouldn't have bit you if I wasn't sure.”

She propped herself up on her elbows and stared at him.

“You really want that? I won't stop annoying you just because I'm your mate. I won't be a single inch less stubborn. I only said marriage because I thought you would see how serious it would have to be if you really meant it.”

Tiel gave him a worried look, only for him to shake his head firmly.

“I want it.”

She searched his face, her hand cupping his jaw tenderly.

“If you mean it…then beg. So I know it's real.” She said softly.

“Beg?” he weakly asked.

Tiel nodded solemnly.

“If my father were alive he would have made you do it. I just have me.” 

Oh . He thought and smelt the melancholy rolling off of her. 

She needs this.

He took a deep breath and tried to formulate his thoughts: he was far better at doing so on paper than in real life, especially with the target of his affections curled up on his stomach.

“Please. You're the only omega I've ever really tolerated-”

She smacked his chest weakly.

“Not a romantic bone in your body, is there? Despite the novels.”

“ Let me finish .” he growled, seizing her hands. 

“You’re the only omega I’ve ever really tolerated, and you’re the only one that comes to mind when I think about spending my life with someone else. I don't think there's anyone in this world who I'm closer to than you…”

He was close enough to hear the way her breath caught in her throat.

“Oh, yes. You're also the only one who’s ever sent me into rut. So…please.”

He bowed his head and pressed a kiss to her knuckles.

“Be mine. I’ll be yours.”

She turned her face up to him like a sunflower greeting the sun and gave him one of her trademark blinding smiles.

“Alright, come here.”

She ran her hands along his shoulders examining his gland as he sat up, gently lowering her down onto the bed before lowering his torso towards her.

The feeling of her callused fingertips running over his gland sent shivers down his spine and the hairs raised on the back of his neck.

“I'll do this properly, alright? Ul’dahn style.” She murmured thoughtfully, rubbing her thumb directly over the gland in the way that made his cock throb and every in his being cry out to be with her, in her.  

“Oh gods. Can I please knot you while we do this?” 

She gave him a downright evil grin: the kind he had seen on her face only in the Wolves Den when she was about to eviscerate her enemy. 

“You can use your hand: it's only fair, considering. ”

He had never wanted to pick her up and pin her down so much as he did in that moment, but the hand on his shoulder was like iron. 

Strong. So strong.

She leaned up to press a kiss to his lips, rubbing her thumb over the gland all the while until the scent of nearly burnt toast, deeply old parchment and sweet flowers flooded the room. 

When she pulled back long enough to breath, Alacran was panting, aching. 

“ Please, Omega. ”

“Good boy” she cooed, and then laid her teeth directly over his neck.

For a moment, he felt nothing. 

And then her teeth softly, gently sank down into the pillowy, raised flesh. 

He felt them sink into his skin forever, yet there was no piercing of the skin, no sudden spark of pain as the first blood was drawn. 

There was only pressure. 

And then she hummed against his skin and he nearly convulsed.

“Oh…ah…Tiel, I…” 

His eyes were watering: when had that happened? 

The pressure was bleeding over into pain and there was something warm and wet running down his shoulder: was it blood or her own saliva? 

He wasn't sure, not between the mixed feelings of pleasure, of satisfaction, of yes, mated, mated and the surging crest of pleasure as everything seemed right. 

Neurons and nerves lit themselves on fire and burned away like stars in the night.

He couldn’t even string together enough conscious thought to reach for her, let alone himself.

There was only the pain and only the bone deep satisfaction of it’s all right now.

When she pulled her teeth out at last, she dragged the flesh up with her in a sticky pull of the teeth that ached.

As her warm stomach and soft chest rubbed against his bare skin, he convulsed at the multitude of sensations, desperate and aching in a way that felt like fire for one agonising instant before he finally snapped, feeling blessed relief as he came.

Tiel let out a surprised little sound and reared back, looking down at him in awe.

He watched in something close to disbelief as she ran a finger down his stomach, tracing through the liquid.

“Aw, Alpha. You came untouched? Just from my bite?”

He watched in a daze as she scooped up a blob and licked her finger.

“Pity. I was going to let you finish inside me after, but… ”

She was naked, and sweaty, standing in the middle of her now deeply mussed up nest and licking semen from her fingers in a way that he would describe as being deeply harlot-like while his blood was still on her incisors.  

Yet somehow it was the most beautiful thing he's ever seen.

It's said that mated pairs can understand each other's emotions through scent.

All they could smell in that moment was mine.