Chapter Text
It starts out of desperation.
Elphaba has just barely been able to manage her cycle since becoming Oz's Wicked Witch. She'd stretch out whatever little supply of suppressants she did have, and when her heat would finally catch up to her, she'd get lucky—she'd come across a pharmacy she could break into, a doctor she could persuade (after disguising herself a considerate amount). There'd been one time when she'd found another actual Omega and—guiltily, knowing first-hand how difficult they could be to come across—swiped some, leaving a few coins in their place. As long as she caught it early enough, her heat would end before it had truly begun, and she'd repeat the process for months at a time.
Apparently, her luck only lasted about three years.
It's been days now, since her heat started, and there's been no trace of Omega suppressants anywhere. Her body seems to be seeking revenge for its poor treatment, as the symptoms struck her quickly and harshly. She’d barely had any warning before the cramps started.
When she first attempts to take care of it herself, like she had in her Shiz dorm room what feels like a lifetime ago, she tries her damnedest not to think of blonde hair, brown eyes, that scent of vanilla and caramel—because she can't have it, because she can't have her without putting both of them in danger, without risking the new life she knows her Alpha has built in the Emerald Palace.
(And she is still her Alpha, will always be her Alpha, no matter the time or distance between them. That is a truth that will be as forever ingrained in the fabric of Elphaba’s heart as it is in the scar that lies in the dip between her neck and shoulder. It’s a painful truth, but it’s all she has left to hold onto.)
And so she can't help it, and the thoughts come unbidden, and the mating Mark on her neck burns as she comes desperately around her own fingers.
Of course, it doesn't work, part of her knows it will never work, but still she tries—again and again. Four fingers are nothing compared to the feeling of her Alpha's knot, nails digging into her Mark do not equate to her Alpha's mouth on her skin.
She comes, and comes, until she reaches the point where nothing can bring her over that edge anymore.
(She misses her so much. Memories echo in her ears—a sweet, high voice turned desperate.
I could make you stay , her Alpha had said.
But you won’t, she’d replied.
And it’s not just because of her heat, it’s not, because Elphaba has wished every Oz-damned day since she left that her Alpha had dared—for once—to order her around.)
And Oz, the pain.
At first, the pain comes and goes in waves, sometimes briefly—but mildly, never completely—sated by an orgasm. But the fifth day turns the cramps to an all-encompassing ache, one that brings tears to her eyes.
Elphaba hasn't cried in years, she hasn't allowed herself. So, once the first drop falls, a torrent of emotions comes with it that has her sobbing as loudly as she dares, curled up on the floor of the abandoned building she's holed up in.
She occasionally, briefly, thinks of another option: she knows there are brothels she could find. She knows, logically, that all she would need to end this torture is one night spent beneath someone else; she wouldn’t even need an Alpha, necessarily, just someone with the right tools and knowledge to trick her body into feeling sated. But the thought of anyone except her Alpha on top of her, inside her, filling her whether it be with a knot or a hand or some other device—well, combined with the cramps, it's enough to make her retch. Her Mark pulses sharply at the unwanted image in her brain, her body shivers with revulsion, and she knows that is not a true option.
Elphaba has to find her.
(She’s hated herself ever since she left, but the shame she feels at the fact that it’s this that makes her return, it’s this, of all things, that breaks her resolve to stay away—well, she’s never loathed herself more.)
She can barely stay on the broom, head foggy with the haze of pain, but she flies for over an hour. It's impossible to ignore the pressure between her legs, and the wind stinging her eyes makes it difficult to see into the many windows of the Palace.
She finally catches the sight of blonde curls and nearly falls from the sky at the pulse of wanting that wracks through her body.
She crashes onto the balcony—and it's truly crashing, not graceful in the slightest as she tumbles and lands on her side. The pain emanating from her lower stomach distracts her from the pain of the fall. She swears that, even from outside the closed glass doors, she can smell that vanilla-caramel scent, and it has her absolutely throbbing between her legs. She is barely able to make it to her knees, arms wrapped around herself in pain.
Her vision is hazy, and she can't see any movement in her peripheral vision. She's doubled over, biting her lip to keep from groaning, and hopes to Whoever is listening that she's truly found the right room, that nobody but her Alpha has heard her clumsy arrival.
Then, after what feels like hours but has probably been merely a few clock-ticks, the light shifts in front of her—the balcony doors open.
She peers upwards through her tears, sees a figure cast in shadow standing in the doorway. That scent is definitely real now, vanilla and caramel wafting over her. She swallows down a sob and just barely manages to croak out:
"Glinda?"
***
Glinda hates the life she’s built in the Emerald Palace.
And she does go by Glinda, now, to everyone in Oz. It hadn’t been her idea; Morrible had said that Glinda the Good rolled off the tongue more pleasingly, and at the time, she hadn’t been strong enough to argue. She’d thought, back then, that maybe it would be nice, to have this small piece of Elphie wherever she went, this constant reminder of the Omega she’d lost to the skies.
(She’d been so, so wrong. It ached—still aches—every time, just like her Mark did and continues to do every time it’s plastered and hidden with makeup, hidden because the citizens of Oz will love her more if she still “appears available.” Galinda Upland is damaged, heartbroken, abandoned goods, and that won’t appeal to the masses, so Glinda the Good is the virginal, chaste Alpha dutifully waiting for the perfect prince or princess to come along.
Perpetuating the lie, acting along—she does it so well—and hearing her Omega’s name for her in every voice but the right one? It makes her sick.)
It’s been long enough now—has been for nearly two years, apparently—that Morrible has been pushing the topic of her finding a Mate.
“Bites can be remade,” she says. “Really, you can claim as many others as you’d like, no one would blame you for keeping your options open. It’s a shame you let that one bite you back.”
“The people would adore an Emerald City heir,” she says. “If it’s women you prefer, I’m sure there’s no shortage willing to mate with you.”
“Or what of that Winkie Prince?” she says. “Ozians love him; you’d be the most adored couple in history. I know he’s an Alpha, but there would surely be so many volunteers for surrogacy.”
Morrible says, and says, and says, and it all makes Glinda utterly nauseous with fury. She denies and distracts and excuses it all away, but she knows that there will come a time when Morrible will no longer give her a choice.
She already tried to take that choice away, once. Glinda can’t prove it, but it’s the only thing that makes sense—she’d been taking her suppressants as always, and yet she’d gone into rut just when the Wizard had decided to throw a ball to which all of Oz’s finest maidens and bachelors had been invited. Morrible had denied replacing her suppressants with placebos, of course, but there was no other explanation Glinda could think of, as without her Omega around, nothing should have randomly triggered her rut.
She’d been encouraged to attend the ball, to find a partner with whom she could satisfy her needs, because Glinda the Good would have an untold number of willing participants if she’d only travel downstairs to the ballroom. And if she were to find a Mate in the process, well, that would just be icing on the proverbial cake.
She’d denied, of course. She’d stayed sheltered and locked in her room for nearly a week—a long, miserable week of painful orgasms and painful heartache and burning tears and wishing more than anything that she had just gotten on that damn broom.
(But she hadn’t, and so she was and continues to be alone. She fears she will be—no, she’s resolved to be—alone for the rest of her days. She tells herself that her dreams of blonde-haired, green-skinned children running around the Gillikin countryside are as good as dead, a life no longer possible.)
So, when something—someone—crashes onto her balcony after three years alone in the Emerald City, it seems much too good to be true.
The sound is alarming, at first, of course—you’d be alarmed, too, at a loud, sudden noise outside your balcony doors when it was nearly the thirteenth hour. When Glinda sees a hunched figure, however, one that is clearly a person, she knows immediately who it has to be, as only one person would be able to reach a balcony this high.
Well. The hat gives it away, too.
Glinda’s heart thumps heavily in her chest as she moves to open the balcony doors. She’s moving more slowly than she means to, as if time has stilled or the air has become thicker. Part of her wants to leap for joy at the idea that her Elphie has returned to her, and yet another part is terrified of what she’s going to find on the other side of the glass.
She opens the doors and nearly collapses as she is suddenly surrounded by the sharp smell of cedar and pine and crisp winter air—her Omega.
Her Omega in heat.
Elphaba has landed hard, as that horrendible broom has tumbled to the edge of the balcony. Glinda takes in the sight of her—hunched over on her knees, arms wrapped around her middle, that same hat and cloak Glinda had given her what feels like a lifetime ago that are now tattered and filthy from years on the run. Her face is thinner, and she seems smaller beneath all the black layers than she had when she’d left.
(I could make you stay, Glinda had said, desperation causing her to grasp for any option that would keep them together.
But you won’t, Elphie had said, and she’d been right. Glinda would never abuse her Status, use her Alpha tone of voice to order Elphie into doing something she didn’t want to do.
She also, apparently—stupidly—wouldn’t leave with her, either.)
It all feels unreal, impossible, and Glinda briefly thinks she’s fallen asleep without realizing, that this is just one of many, many dreams she’s had over the years where Elphie reappears.
But then, not-possibly-Elphie looks up at her, flushed and feverish, and calls out her name.
Glinda?
And oh, it is her Elphie, because no other voice could bring Glinda to her knees as this one has right now. That low voice she’s longed and ached to hear is filled with exhaustion, with torment, with need, and Glinda is next to her because there is nothing else she could possibly do, no other option exists in this moment.
“Elphie?” she breathes, as though she still cannot believe it. But she reaches out a hand and cups a green cheek and Elphaba Thropp is real, really here, kneeling on her balcony and exuding heady pheromones that already have Glinda stiffening between her legs. Elphaba clutches desperately at the hand now on her face and presses it close, inhaling deeply at her wrist. It sends a throb of want through Glinda’s body, shooting up her spine in a way she hasn’t felt in years.
She’s dragging Elphie to her before she can stop herself.
Their lips collide in a frantic mess, hands roaming and grasping wherever they can reach to pull each other impossibly closer. Elphaba is quickly crawling into her lap, straddling her hips and grinding down against her. Both of them gasp into the kiss, and their teeth clack together as their tongues find each other. Glinda feels hands pulling at her hair and wet heat pressing against her through her nightgown and groans, the sound feeling foreign as it leaves her throat as it has been so long—
A pang of terror shoots through her heart at the thought of them being caught like this, and she pulls back from the kiss as much as she dares—she fears her heart will burst if she moves too far away . “ You shouldn’t be here,” Glinda breathes without thinking, but it’s true. Her Elphie is not just Her Elphie, she is the Wicked Witch of the West, and as much as she has dreamed of this happening, it is so incredibly dangerous.
She regrets saying the words when Elphaba looks as if she’s been slapped across the face. Green fingers twitch in her hair. “I—I know,” she stammers breathily. “I’m sorry, my sweet, I’m so sorry to put you in danger like this—”
“Me?” Glinda interrupts incredulous. Realizing her voice has raised too loudly, she lowers it to hiss, “Me, in danger? Elphie, they will kill you if they find you here.”
Elphie opens her mouth as if to say something, but Glinda moves into action before she can. She glances back into her chambers to make sure no one has entered since she came out here—it’s rather late for one of the servant girls to randomly show up, but she can’t take any chances right now, not when it’s her love at risk. She reluctantly pushes Elphie off her lap and stands, pulling her Omega up with her. Remembering at the last moment to grab the broom, she drags Elphaba into her chambers and closes the balcony doors.
She lets go of Elphie—again, very reluctantly—and stuffs the broom into her closet to keep it out of sight should anyone happen to enter. Regarding that, though, she turns to wave a hand at the door, making the lock turn with a click. Then, with both hands out, she mutters an incantation she’s known since their Shiz days and is satisfied when the acoustics of her chambers are ever-so-slightly muted.
“Did you just…?” Elphie says from behind her.
“Silencing spell,” she says to answer the unfinished question. Glinda turns around to face her and just barely manages not to break down at seeing her once more, now fully bathed in light.
Elphaba sways a bit where she stands, eyes blown nearly black, arms wrapped around her stomach again. “O-oh.”
Glinda knows there must be questions swirling through Elphie’s head—Glinda was never able to do that spell on her own, back then. She supposes there must be things about Elphie that Glinda doesn’t know now, either. It aches in her chest, knowing that her Mate stands in front of her at long last and yet they are practically strangers to one another.
“Gone for years, and you come back because of your heat,” Glinda says, and it’s not a question. Elphaba winces, guilt marring her features, and it spurs forward something angry within Glinda. “Not because you missed me, not because you love me, but because you want me to fuck you.”
She nearly spits the words, heartache infusing every syllable. Elphaba shrinks further into herself at the sound, and Glinda wants to scream.
You left, she wants to yell. You left me here alone and now you can’t even admit the truth?
“My sweet, I’m here because I love you—I stay away because I love you,” Elphaba says pleadingly, like she’s begging for Glinda to believe her. When Glinda only scoffs, she continues, “You know as well as I that if Morrible or the Wizard knew you were even speaking to me—”
“I can handle myself,” Glinda snaps, though she knows what the Omega speaks is truth. She doesn’t realize that her voice slipped into Alpha territory until she hears Elphie whimper, sees her eyelids flutter as she leans forward subconsciously. Her stomach twists uneasily at the realization, and she tries her best to calm down.
“I—I couldn’t risk you. I tried to last without you,” Elphie confesses, blinking through the haze that must be clouding her mind. “I tried so damned hard to stay away, to keep you safe, but I couldn’t—I can’t—” her voice chokes on a sob as she grasps tighter at her stomach, knees wavering.
Glinda moves forward, instinctively reaching out to steady her, but she stops herself before making contact. Her erection throbs between her legs at the pheromones Elphaba is putting out. She is so, so angry—perhaps unrightfully so, but it’s there—and yet her chest still aches simultaneously with years-old heartbreak and the need to comfort her Omega.
Her Omega , who is right here in front of her, needy and wanting and in pain.
“Why are you here?” she tries again, making sure her voice is more neutral.
Elphaba meets her gaze, chest heaving as she tries to breathe through the cramps. “Because I need you,” she whines.
Glinda feels herself harden further at her Omega’s tone. “Need me for what?” she pushes, taking another step closer.
Elphaba’s breath hitches. “I need you to fuck me, Glinda.”
That sends a thrill tingling down her spine, but it’s still not enough. Another step closer, and now they are mere inches apart. “Why?” she insists.
Elphaba whimpers, eyes briefly darting down to Glinda’s lips.
“Because you’re my Alpha.”
Glinda breaks, leans forward and kisses her, pushing that old hat off her head so she can tangle her fingers in messy black braids and devour her. One hand goes to Elphie’s waist and pulls her close until their hips press together, and she can feel as well as hear the moan her Omega lets out when she realizes how hard Glinda is for her.
“Oz, please,” Elphaba whines against her lips as she clutches at the backs of Glinda’s shoulders.
Glinda hisses as nails dig into her skin. She bites at Elphie’s lower lip in retaliation before spinning her around until she’s falling back onto the bed. Her sheets are as grand and pink as they had been back at Shiz, and the familiar sight of black and green atop them makes her heart want to burst. She only allows herself a short moment to stare at Elphaba as she lies there, flushed and panting and wanting, lest she burst into tears and ruin the moment. Then, she is above her again, kissing every inch of skin she can reach and searching for the buttons of her dress so that she may reach more.
Elphie helps her as she gasps into Glinda’s ear, and her sweet breath against her skin sends a shiver through Glinda’s body.
“Tell me again,” Glinda says lowly.
Elphie whimpers as Glinda moves her kisses down her neck. “My Alpha,” she moans. “My wonderful Alpha, I need you inside me.”
Glinda can’t hold back a growl and sucks harshly at a spot beneath Elphie’s jaw, barely deigning to soothe the abused skin with her tongue before moving down to repeat the process elsewhere. The buttons are finally undone, and Elphie quickly shucks it off her shoulders along with her cloak. Glinda’s hands move to roam over the newly-revealed skin, groping a breast in one palm and grasping at her rib cage with the other.
Her kisses make it down to a familiar scar—the Mark that matches her own. She mouths at the spot as her hands roam further, pushing Elphie’s dress down past her hips until her Omega is able to kick it away. She doesn’t bite into it again, not yet, just kisses and licks and sucks at the spot so she can enjoy the way Elphie writhes beneath her at the sensation.
“You’re mine,” Glinda growls, sliding her lips over to Elphie’s throat. She can feel her swallow harshly as she fights back another moan. Displeased, Glinda moves up until she can look into those forest-green eyes again. “Let me hear you,” she says, just a bit softer.
Elphie nods, and when Glinda’s hand palms her soaked underwear, she tosses her head back with an unabashed whine. “I’m yours!” she says unprompted, sending a pulse straight to Glinda’s cock that has her hurriedly dragging the ruined underwear down green thighs.
She has to stand briefly to take off her own undergarments, dragging her nightgown over her head. Elphie looks up at her as she does so, and Glinda sees her eyes focus on the space between her legs, where her erection is painfully straining against her underwear. Something softens in Elphie’s expression, and Glinda hurries to take them off before she can see—but it’s too late.
“Oh, my love,” Elphie breathes, reaching out even though she’s too far away. “My sweet, are they hiding you?”
Glinda tries to hold back a wince and isn’t quite sure if she succeeds, but she manages to squeeze out of the compression underwear and climb back on top of her Omega. “Please,” she says before kissing Elphie deeply, hoping she’ll drop the topic. “Please, not right now.”
Elphie hesitates, but nods in the end, drawing her into another kiss and lifting a leg to wrap around Glinda’s hip. “Okay,” she whispers. “Take me, my sweet.” Glinda’s breath hitches, her hips bucking so that she slides against her Omega’s wetness.
“Fill me,” Elphie continues between kisses. “I’ve missed you so much. Please let me feel you. Make love to me.”
How Glinda has seemingly become just as desperate as her Omega in heat is beyond her. She quickly reaches down, aligning herself with Elphie’s entrance and, with an open, messy kiss, pushes inside.
They groan loudly into each other’s mouths as Glinda fills her easily, as Elphie pulses around her to accommodate the stretch. Long nails are clawing at Glinda’s back again, and she tugs at Elphie’s lip with her teeth as she pulls back with a hiss.
“Fuck, baby,” Glinda moans, gripping tightly onto her Omega’s hips. She hooks an arm beneath the knee Elphie has raised and lifts it from her hip up over her shoulder, stretching her open beneath her. She pushes in further as a result, and Elphie gasps and digs her nails in.
“Glin,” she cries out, making Glinda’s heart soar at the pet name she hasn’t heard in years. Her hips buck upwards, and the Alpha starts moving within her.
“You take me so well,” Glinda praises, kissing down the side of Elphie’s face once more. As she thrusts in and out, she can feel wet walls clenching around her, trying to draw her in further. She groans and slides out almost completely before snapping her hips forward, driving deep into her Omega and drawing a cry of pleasure out from that beautiful green throat.
Glinda is overcome with a possessiveness the old her would never have allowed herself to display. Thrusting into her steadily now, driving her cock deep inside her, she leans up to Elphie’s ear. “You’re here because I’m the only one that can do this for you,” she pants. She feels Elphie nod as her hips buck upwards and takes it as a sign to continue. “I’m the only one who can fuck you like this.”
“Shit, I—” Elphie cuts herself off with a gasp, and when she doesn’t continue speaking, Glinda does instead.
“I’m the only one who can make you feel this good, right darling?”
Elphie nods frantically. “Yes, yes, yes,” she chants into Glinda’s ear, spurring her on. “P-please, I’m—ah!”
Glinda’s thrusts don’t slow, but they are getting shallower—her knot is forming, triggered by her Omega’s heat. She tilts her hips to hit that one spot inside Elphie that she knows will drive her closer to the edge, grasping tightly at the thigh slung over her shoulder. Leaning back so that she can see her face, she growls, “Please what, Elphie?”
Elphaba stares at her through half-closed eyes as she struggles to keep them open. They flutter with each thrust, her lips parted tantalizingly as she pants with pleasure and need. “Please, I need—I need you to knot me,” she begs, hand sliding up into Glinda’s hair. “I need you to make me come—I need to feel you come inside me, please, my Alpha—”
Glinda feels her hips stutter and reaches down with her other hand to rub at Elphaba’s slick-covered clit. Elphie moans as Glinda circles the sensitive nub, tightening around Glinda as the tension grows within them both.
“You’re going to take my knot, darling,” Glinda says, Alpha tenor ringing through her voice. She leans down to nuzzle against Elphie’s neck, lips brushing the Mark there. “You’re gonna take it all, and I’m gonna claim you all over again.”
“Y-yes, please!” Elphie moans, head tilting to the side to allow her Alpha closer. “I’m yours, I’m yours, please—Glinda!”
Glinda bites down, teeth perfectly matching the Mark that’s already there, and feels her knot slip inside her Omega. Elphie cries out as she pulses around her, clenching with each brush of Glinda’s finger over her clit, and clutches the back of her head to bring her closer.
Then, Glinda feels a sharp sting at the side of her own neck, her own Mark now redone, and her hips twitch forward as she empties herself inside her Omega. Wave after wave of pleasure rolls through them both as Glinda fills her, her knot sealing every drop inside.
They stay like that for a long, long moment, eventually releasing their biting holds on each other in favor of languid, wet kisses along necks and shoulders. Glinda eventually finds Elphie’s mouth again and relishes the feeling of their tongues pushing together, relearning each other.
“I love you,” Elphie whispers against her lips, making Glinda’s heart leap in her chest. “I love you, I love you, I love you, my Alpha, my Glinda…” She continues to ramble between kisses until Glinda leans down to press her face into her neck and just breathe in that sharp, woodsy smell.
She can’t bring herself to say it back. Not just yet.
Another moment passes where they simply hold each other, stuck together at the hips by Glinda’s knot. She eventually lets Elphie’s leg lower itself from her shoulder, and then she doesn’t have time to react before green thighs are bracketing her hips and she is firmly, but carefully, tossed onto her back.
Glinda looks up in surprise at the Omega now straddling her, the Omega who is still filled with her knot and is now grinding down against her with a slow rock of her hips. Green hands reach out to scratch at her chest, and she can’t help but hiss at the combination of sensations. “E-Elphie…?” she says, embarrassingly close to a whimper.
“I’ve missed you, my love,” Elphaba says lowly, “and I want my fill.” She’s still rocking her hips back and forth. Glinda bucks upward before she can hold back, and Elphie gasps before leaning down to breathe over her lips. “Tell me you love me.”
“Oh, fuck,” Glinda says, definitely whimpering now. She does, she loves this woman so much it’s unbearable, but the words won’t come out, shuttered away by years of heartache and broken dreams.
Elphie’s tongue sticks out to slowly lick along Glinda’s upper lip, making her shiver. “I know you do,” she says, hands squeezing Glinda’s breasts as she rides her carefully. “You’re my Alpha,” another roll of her hips, “and I’m your Omega.” Another, and Glinda grabs onto those hips tightly. She leans up to try and kiss her, but Elphie pulls back to stay just out of reach. “I haven’t had anyone else, you know,” she continues. “You’re the only one who’s ever been inside me.”
Oz, Glinda’s so sensitive, still surrounded by her Omega’s wet heat, and Elphie’s voice, breathy and low, makes her head spin. She’s not sure at this point if she’ll come first or go mad instead.
“You’re the only one who’s ever fucked me,” Elphie says with a slight bounce, making them both groan as Glinda’s knot tugs at her entrance. “The only one to make me come apart.”
Glinda’s not sure if she’s holding onto Elphaba’s hips to keep her still or to make her move faster, but whatever she’s wanting to do, Elphie isn’t letting her have any control. She leans down and takes Glinda’s lower lip between her green ones, sucking harshly before releasing it with a pop.
“You’re the only one I’ll ever love,” she says, breath ghosting over Glinda’s swollen and spit-soaked lips.
“Fuck, Elphie!”
Elphie presses a hand to Glinda’s chest and grinds her hips down harder, keeping her still, taking her pleasure. Her other hand moves to rub at herself, and the moan she lets out is delectable. Glinda can feel her tightening around her cock with every pass of her finger over her clit. “Tell me you love me, and you can fill me again,” Elphie says through hitching breaths. “Tell me I’ll always be yours.”
Something breaks in Glinda’s chest, tension rising within her body so quickly that her vision blurs, and she’s crying out before she can even think. “I love you!” she moans desperately. “My Elphie, my perfect Omega, mine, I love—ah!”
“Glin!”
And then they are coming together once more. Glinda sees white as she tosses her head back, hips pressing up to push as deep into her Omega as she possibly can. She vaguely feels a rush of wetness spill onto her thighs as Elphie pulses tightly around her, drawing out every last bit of her seed. Then, those perfect lips are on hers again with a kiss so soft and full of love it makes her heart sing. “I love you,” she murmurs over and over again, the dam now broken, her head spinning every time Elphie says it back.
She can only take a moment more of Elphie moving her hips before she holds her tightly enough to make her still, true overstimulation now threatening to take over her body. Elphie takes the hint and settles down, laying her full weight against her and nuzzling into Glinda’s Mark. It’s grounding, and Glinda had forgotten how it feels to be so, so full of love.
“Oz, I missed you so much,” she confesses. She’s completely exhausted, too exhausted and satisfied to be angry anymore, at least for now. Her hands roam slowly across her Omega’s back, nails ghosting over her skin and leaving goosebumps in their wake.
Elphie presses close and kisses her Mark. “I missed you, my sweet,” she whispers. “Unbearably so.”
“Please stay,” Glinda begs softly as she struggles to keep her eyes open. “Please stay with me.”
Elphie stills for just a moment, then kisses her Mark again. “I’m here, baby. I’m right here.”
She relaxes fully on top of her, and the rhythm of her breathing lulls Glinda into sleep.
***
Elphaba can’t stay.
She shouldn’t, at least; there is nowhere she could stay in the Palace where she wouldn’t eventually be found by someone who would surely immediately rat her out to Morrible or the Wizard. Oz knows what they would do to her, what they would do to Glinda for harboring her and going behind their backs. She can’t risk it. She can’t.
But lying there next to her Alpha, that familiar sweet scent filling the air and making her feel so whole and loved—it’s incredibly difficult to leave.
(I could make you stay, her Alpha had said.
But why couldn’t Glinda have gone with her, instead?)
The sun is coming up, shining through the balcony doors. Glinda’s knot disappeared hours ago, and so Elphaba has been lying here simply staring at her Alpha as she sleeps. She studies every mark she’s left upon pale skin, scratches from her nails and bruises from her love bites. She relishes in the soreness she feels, herself, can tell even without checking a mirror that her own neck is mottled with marks, as well.
She wonders how long these reminders will last.
Something shifts in the air, and Elphaba’s head perks up as the sound of morning birds suddenly enters the air—Glinda must have only done a temporary silencing spell, and now it’s worn off.
Elphaba stares longingly down at her Alpha and knows that this is when she has to leave.
She slips out of bed as smoothly as she can and starts redressing, retrieving her broom from Glinda’s closet. She lingers, wanting more than anything that she could stay, or that Glinda could come with her—but she knows if Oz’s beloved Glinda the Good were to go missing, the literal witch hunt for her would increase tenfold.
Elphaba steps closer to the bed, feet silent against the plush carpet. She merely wants to place a gentle kiss goodbye to her Alpha’s temple as she sleeps curled up on her side, but as she leans down, her nose twitches as a scent stronger than caramel and vanilla hits her—something sharp and peppery and oh-so-familiar.
Oh, no.
Her eyes widen as she looks downward, to where Glinda’s hips are covered by the blankets—and where the outline of a half-formed erection is visible.
Glinda’s in rut.
A rattling of a doorknob startles her, and she nearly has a heart attack at the thought of being caught like this, the Wicked Witch of the West standing over Glinda the Good’s naked form. But it seems Glinda’s locking spell was not temporary like the silencing spell, and the door doesn’t open.
“Your Goodness?” she hears faintly from the other side.
“Shit,” Elphaba hisses, starting to panic.
Glinda starts stirring a bit below her, face scrunching up and eyebrows furrowing together.
Elphaba reaches down to cup her cheek and shake her gently. “Glinda, wake up,” she whispers sharply. Brown eyes flutter open, seeking her out and then widening as they meet hers.
“Elphie?” she says dreamily, as if she’d thought the previous night had been a figment of her imagination.
Elphaba’s heart warms, but the panic is still there as the doorknob rattles again, a more frantic call of “Your Goodness?” coming from outside the bedroom.
The sound seems to register to Glinda, too, as she quickly sits up. Only then does she notice her state of arousal, glancing down to her covered erection and then looking back up to Elphaba with a blush heating her face. “E-Elphie?” she says again, and the fear and uncertainty in her voice makes Elphaba’s chest ache. “You’re—you’re leaving.” It’s not a question, and Elphaba’s heart shatters.
She quickly finds the Alpha’s nightgown and hands it to her. “Glinda, I have to,” she says apologetically. There are knocks banging against the door now, and more voices have joined the original. “I’m so sorry, my love, but I have to.” She cups a pale cheek in her hand again, feels tears pricking at her eyes as Glinda clutches desperately at her wrist. That peppery scent fills her entire being with want, and she leans down to kiss her deeply.
She tries to push all of her apologies, all of her love and reassurance into this kiss. She breaks away only enough to speak. “I’ll be back to help you, I promise. Do you trust me?”
Glinda’s eyes are wide and watery, her other hand is now grasping at the back of her head in an attempt to keep her close. “Elphie…” she says, and Elphaba tries to ignore the pain she feels at the non-answer.
But there’s no more time. “Hold out, my sweet,” she begs before kissing her again. “Hold out, if you can.” One last kiss, heady and longing, and then she tears herself away before she loses her will.
Elphaba sprints to the balcony, throws open the doors, and leaps over the railing. It’s only once she’s in the sky once more that her tears finally fall.