Work Text:
Gimme
The knock on the door made her moan.
“Lórien?”
“Go away,” Galadriel whimpered, hands folded over her splotchy throat to stifle the tremor in her voice. Sweat beaded at her temples, slicked the space between her tits and dribbled – disjointed – down the notches of her spine. Another knock; she felt the sound between her thighs.
“Lórien, open up.”
Galadriel scooted across the narrow closet, arms shaking and legs well past being useful. Her back hit a rack of fabric samples, the myriad textures brushing her tender skin in layers of pleasure and pain. A hiss between clenched teeth. A low curse on the other side of the door.
“Galadriel,” Halbrand growled, and she froze.
***
Like being a woman, the limitations of being an omega often came down to factors beyond the actual designation. For Galadriel Lórien, whose family could afford the highest quality suppressants at the first signs of her manifestation, the simpering harlot that clung to her hindbrain had never been more than an irritation. One pill in the morning, one pill at night. Kept to a tight schedule, the needy omega slept soundly under a steady dosage of medication, leaving Galadriel to revel in her free will. She’d never suffered a full heat. Never dropped to her knees in the cheese aisle, wailing for her Alpha. Never spread her legs for a man simply because he smelled good. And she never let anyone tell her what to do.
Her brothers called her a brat. Her boss called her a headache. And maybe she was all those things, but Galadriel was also a brilliant designer with a shrewd mind for business. In two years, she’d moved from accounting assistant to junior designer at Lindon Interiors. She’d helped Gil-Galad expand the firm into commercial design, the only sector with any promise of growth, and she would not see it all flushed down the drain because of him.
“—the big deal is.”
“The big deal is this is a cowork space! The palette has to be neutral.”
“Black is neutral.”
“Black is jarring!” She plucked the tile sample from his desk and waved it like a weapon, “And this marble is veined in gold!”
“It’s sleek,” Halbrand smiled, utterly unaffected by her ire, “And if I recall, hardwoods and tiles fall under my department.”
Galadriel sneered. Halbrand Mairon had joined their team following Celebrimbor’s retirement as head of CAD design a little over a month ago. He came from a construction background, previously working under development magnate Melkor Morgoth, whose firm managed some of the largest commercial and luxury apartment complexes in San Francisco. Galadriel had worked with her fair share of his type over the years – irresponsible developers who gave less than zero fucks about gentrifying the Bay Area at the behest of Silicone Valley. His background as a No Good Very Bad Man alone warranted consistent and vocal animosity.
But that was the least of what bothered her.
Halbrand Mairon was the most stereotypical Alpha Galadriel had ever suffered the displeasure of meeting. Never mind his height (notable) or the span of his shoulders (impressive). From the arrogant curve of his smile to the way he spoke with his hands – wrists rolling, fingers flexed as if to remind her he could reach out and snatch her up at any moment – Halbrand oozed an entitlement that ran marrow deep. The world wasn’t just his to take, but to command.
“It doesn’t fit the palette,” She huffed, setting the tile back on the sample stack, “I’ve already pitched the client a soft stone colorway.”
“And I’ve already gotten approval from the client and Gil-Galad,” Halbrand pushed up from his chair, and Galadriel had to grit her teeth against the urge to cower. Something predatory flashed behind his hazel eyes as he came around his desk. “I trust you’ll figure out how to…make it fit.”
He was close. Too close. Like this, it was impossible to ignore the wash of sandalwood and sage. A pleasant smell on anyone else, but on him it was—
“A word to the wise,” lips at her ear – a jolt, a shiver – “You might consider upping the dosage. I can practically taste the jasmine coming off of you.”
***
She was ruining her tights.
“Galadriel,” Halbrand snarled again, giving the knob a jiggle, “If you don’t open this door right now, I’m tearing it off the hinges.”
The thought alone made her whimper for all the wrong reasons. The shadow of his polished oxfords shifted along the crack above the threshold. He was pacing.
“Don’t make me say it.”
“H-Halbrand.”
“Fuck – I’ll do it. I don’t want to, but I will if I have to.”
“I…”
Galadriel was shaking now, tremors wracking a body burning from the inside out. She clawed at her neck, at what lingered just beneath her skin – hot, throbbing, imperceptible to the eye and yet it felt as if her entire being had been reduced to that singular ache. Something like teeth snapping slithered beneath the door, and the image of him closing sharp canines over her throat made her knees knock.
“I can’t,” she gasped, “Halbrand, I need…”
I need your help.
Silence settled on the other side. Galadriel panted, close to tears, mere seconds from begging. He could fix it, loath as she was to admit it. Halbrand could get her off her back before he put her on it again, but he would have to—
“Open the door, omega.”
She’d never been called that before. Outside of immediate family and close friends, no one even knew Galadriel’s designation. Gil-Galad only found out because of mandated paperwork, and Galadriel made sure not to give him reason to linger on her status. Between work ethic and the magic of modern medicine, her omega never kept Galadriel from performing her duties beyond expectations. Not before, at least.
The command felt…different. Potent in ways she hadn’t expected. The tremors subsided. The white noise receded, leaving her mind blessedly quiet. A shade of calm, a certainty. She sucked in a shaky, grateful breath and crawled to the door.
The moment she flipped the lock, Galadriel collapsed back on the floor. Halbrand pushed inside, slamming the door shut behind him, and that’s when it hit. Sandalwood and sage, a punch to the gut. Halbrand turned to her, and they both moaned.
“Christ, look at you,” He reached out, only to fall back against the wall as if pushed, “Tell me you took your—”
“They’re not working,” She was crying now, oh this was a nightmare, “I can’t – I tried to get…an appointment, but my doctor…m’doctor is…”
Speech was impossible. He smelled too good. Galadriel didn’t realize she was back to palming her throat until Halbrand snapped his fingers and hissed, “Stop that.” Another command, impulsive from the way his face pinched in remorse, but she did as she was told. How funny (and awful) that she found relief in submitting to his orders.
“You’re going into heat,” He spit through clenched teeth, “And I have a meeting with the associates from Khazad-dûm in fifteen minutes. I can’t knot you right now—”
“W-wha–?”
“But I can take the edge off. Give me your ankle.”
The rational part of her, the actual Galadriel, muscled her way back to the surface. “You can’t – I’m not going to fuck you, Halbrand!”
“You’re right,” He started rolling up his sleeves, “I’m going to fuck you, Galadriel. But not right now. Right now, I’m going to play with your pussy until you come, and then you’re going to nest.”
“Are you crazy—?”
“—and once I’ve finished my meeting, I’m going to come back and stuff you full of my cock until you break apart all over these godawful fabric samples, and then I’m going to keep fucking you.”
Galadriel whined; her omega purred.
“Your ankle, Galadriel.”
She didn’t understand, but the room was going red now, need and something far more primordial clawing at the walls of her lungs. Her heart was a drum; her blood sang gimme, gimme, gimme. Biting her lip hard enough to break skin, Galadriel lifted a shaky leg.
Halbrand caught her ankle in a firm hold, cradling delicate bones with just enough pressure to take the edge off. He took another step forward, and Galadriel mewled at the stretch.
“Little baby,” He cooed, almost mocking, “Look at you. Wetting your panties and your tights.”
Her bottom lip quivered as he dropped to one knee, hawk eyes narrowed on the mess between her legs. He dragged a calloused thumb along the seam, catching her clit behind soaked mesh.
“Oh!”
Halbrand clicked his tongue, muttered something crossed between reassurance and reprimand, but Galadriel couldn’t make out sound beyond the pulse thundering behind her ears. She was nothing but the skin he was teasing; a bright, dense singularity of pleasure, of pain. No longer a woman, something baser than animal. Halbrand rolled the little nub, and Galadriel dissolved.
“That’s it,” His voice was sandpaper, “Poor thing, you’re so hot. Did you have to do this now? Couldn’t we have waited until after lunch?”
She wanted to object – did he really think she had a choice? – but there was something building in the pit of her stomach. Galadriel had never felt so empty before, and the gentle circles Halbrand was drawing around her clit seemed to make it worse. This was a hollow relief. It might very well hurt as much as heal.
“Halbrand, m-my tummy…”
The hand on her ankle slid along the back of her calf. He hooked her knee over his shoulder, fingers skimming the underside of her thigh as he moved closer. Galadriel hiccupped, teeth chattering, hips winding along to the shockingly gentle movement of his thumb against her clit. She needed harder, more, hadn’t he promised to break her?
“I know, honey. I’m gonna make it better.”
His palm settled heavy over her womb, and pushed.
It was silly how quickly she came. He wasn’t even inside of her. But the weight of his hand against her stomach, compressing, making her clench from the outside at the same moment he caught her clit between his fingers and pinched – Galadriel splintered on a piteous sob, lurching forward to open her mouth against his throat. His skin on her tongue was candy. His scent filled her head like smoke. She was dizzy, weightless, fucking high off of him…and all Halbrand had done was finger her through her clothes.
“There,” his lips skimmed her hairline, “See? It’s not so bad. I think that should buy us another hour. I’ll be fast, but I need you to stay here, Galadriel. Promise me you won’t leave. I can’t…I need to know you’ll be here when I come back.”
“Mmm…”
Halbrand caught her chin, forcing her to meet his gaze. His pupils were blown wide.
“If I think you’re wandering – if I’m worried about another man finding you like this – it is going to be very bad for everyone. Do you understand?”
She tried to nod, but his hold was too strong.
“Promise me, Galadriel.”
Her name on his tongue could have been a prayer or a curse. “I promise, Alpha.”
***
By the time he came back, she was naked and writhing on a makeshift nest of fabric samples.
“Oh, Galadriel—”
“Halbrand, Halbrand!” She lurched to her feet, only to pitch forward, saved from falling by the arm that shot towards her, “Please, I need it. Your knot, I – hurts, everything hu-urtsss…”
“Shh, come here. I know, sweet girl,” He grabbed her face, nuzzling her cheek as a hand slid over her mouth, “That’s enough, no more fussing. You’re being too loud.”
“Mmph!” She wailed under his palm, tears streaming when he shook her head hard enough to make her brain rattle. But she liked it, that brief show of force. Melted in submission when he glared down at her.
“Quiet. I know what you need, now quit pitching a fit and get on your knees.”
He hadn’t put the command behind the words, but Galadriel didn’t need it. She dropped instantly, hands already scrambling to unbuckle him, rubbing her face all over the front of his suit pants. His scent was overwhelming here, making her drool and drip on the carpet.
“That’s my girl,” He brushed back her hair, fingers threading to tug lightly at the roots, “See? It’s so much better when you listen.”
He fell solid into her hands – big, Alpha is so big. Galadriel closed thin fingers around the base, tips not quite touching, and he seemed to grow thicker in her grasp. Another tug on her hair, just enough to make her scalp sting. “Lick it.”
Little tongue unfurling; a slow, thorough taste. Halbrand grunted, pushing forward, and Galadriel moaned as he stretched her mouth wide. He was rich, all spice, all man. The hand in her hair encouraged, and together they worked his cock down her throat, until her lips grazed the firm base. She licked at the swelling skin, and Halbrand jerked, making her choke on it. His grip loosened – panic bloomed sticky behind her aching lungs; Galadriel grabbed his hips to suck him deeper.
“Careful, omega. You keep going and I’m knotting this hungry mouth, but I don’t think you want that.”
His words were admonishment, but there was a tight breathlessness behind them that made Galadriel fucking preen. Despite the warning, his cock pumped steadily against her tongue, quick and deep, making her eyes water. But just when he seemed on the verge of coming, Halbrand pulled out, catching Galadriel beneath her arms and flipping her onto her stomach.
“Such a pretty nest,” He grabbed her hips, pulling her ass in the air, “Who did you make it for?”
“Y-you. ‘S for you, Alpha…”
Halbrand ripped off his jacket, neck ticking with a thick vein, and some distant part of her brain mulled over the picture they were painting. A wolf in pressed linen, and then there was Galadriel: naked, writhing, a sweaty mess of pink skin and tears and need, she needed—
“Look at this cunt,” He murmured, spreading a puffy fold, “Ripe as a fuckin’ peach. Do you taste like a peach, too?”
Galadriel moaned, sucking on her thumb just because. Halbrand smoothed his free hand up her thigh and plumped her asscheek with a hum.
“This,” He ran his thumb over her seam, “Is mine.”
Galadriel shuddered, grateful for the arm Halbrand banded beneath her hips to keep her tilted and spread. The tickle of his stubble along her inner thighs was all the warning she got. Halbrand put her whole pussy in his mouth, but the tongue inside of her was gentle, too soft, and it was that softness that had her squirming and panting. More, she need so much—
“You…are pleasure itself…”
She felt like it, remade with every swirl and nip, molded into something brilliant under his reckless touch. Galadriel moaned around her thumb, heat-drunk, rolling against his chin without shame despite the mess she was surely making. Halbrand pulled off moments before the fall, but she was too weak to protest, and he was past teasing.
Notched at her center, Halbrand bent low to take her ear better his teeth. “Deep breath, darling.”
“Wha—”
He drove in with a single, brutal thrust, and she was already coming.
“Fuck!”
A damp forehead hit her tailbone. The hands on her hips would leave bruises. All these things came to her through a nebulous film as the orgasm worked its way down her spine – unmaking, restitching, leaving behind another woman in its wake. Galadriel had fucked before, but this…
“Make me come before I’m ready and I’ll paint this ass red. Do not test me.”
With each slide, she felt another storm brewing. They were positively destroying the fabric samples underneath them. But Galadriel couldn’t worry about anything when his cock was nudging her deep inside, touching something that had her clenching on a whimper she barely smothered into her fist. Halbrand stretched long, biting her neck so close to that spot, and the swivel of his hips nearly sent her over again.
“Are you going to take me? All of me?”
“Uh huh.”
“What was that?”
“Y-yes.”
“Yes. What.”
“Yes, Alpha!” She was crying again, almost hysterical, “Alpha – Alpha, knot me. B-breed me. Put a baby in me, please!”
She might – would, definitely – regret her words later, but the way her blubbering demands shattered the last of Halbrand’s composure felt like a sick sort of dominance. Twisted at the middle, Galadriel looked up into the eyes of a man in free fall. Glassy, heavy-lidded – desperate. His shoulders shook. His breath came in short pants. Halbrand might be knotting her, but Galadriel was the one laying a trap.
“You perfect, wicked girl. Come here.”
The arm around her middle slid between her tits, pulling Galadriel to her knees. Back to his chest, head lolling on his shoulder, Galadriel didn’t kiss Halbrand so much as let her jaw drop for his invading tongue. It was filthy, it wasn’t even good. And yet it was the obscene slide of his lips over hers that finally did her in.
He was speaking again – words of praise, things that would haunt her in the night. That’s right, I’m going to knot you. Breed you. Give you that baby you’re begging for – do you like that? And when you walk around the office, pink cheeks with a nice round belly, everyone will know you’re mine. My omega. My little designer. C’mon, love, I know you can give me another—
The third time she came, he followed shortly behind, and if no one heard them before, they sure as fuck did now.
***
“I can’t go out there.”
“I’m not fucking you in the fabric closet again—”
“Halbrand, I can’t!”
“Want me to carry you?”
“I mean,” Galadriel hissed, waving at the door, “I can’t go out there now that everyone in the office knows what I sound like when I’m fucked open on your knot!”
His smile was all daggers; Galadriel rolled her eyes.
“You are adorable—”
“Don’t condescend me.”
Halbrand pulled her into a kiss, and Galadriel was too tired to pretend at resistance. Her heat was a phantom threat at her back; they had an hour at most…
“There’s no one here,” Halbrand’s hold on her nape was possessive – her omega rolled lazily beneath warm skin, “I sent everyone home early after the meeting.”
Galadriel blanched. “What?”
“Sweet, silly girl,” Another dangerous grin; his grip tightened, “You sound so lovely when you cry for me, and only me. Did you really think I was going to share?”