#Omega needs a hug

[kybercrystals94]

Scraped Knees

By KyberCrystals94

Read here on Ao3!

Whumptober 2023|Day 15|Prompt 15: “I don’t need you to help me, I can handle things myself.” | “I’m fine.”

Rating: G

Words: 739

Summary: Set directly after Season 1 Episode 3 “Replacements”

Omega waits until the ship falls almost entirely silent before she tries to sneak out of her new room. She practices the quiet footfalls she learned from following Hunter on Kamino, creeping down the dim hall to where she remembered Wrecker pointing out the med kit during his grand tour of the Marauder. Her knees burn where the fabric of her leggings rubs on the raw skin from where she fell following the Ordo Moon Dragon into its den.

After glancing up at the cockpit where Hunter has first watch, Omega carefully pulls the kit off the shelf and lifts the lid, setting it aside. She frowns as she stares into the messy array of medical supplies. Great. So much for being quiet, she thinks sourly. All she needs is bandages, and maybe some antibiotic ointment to prevent any infection. She begins her search, quickly finding bandages, but struggling to find the antibiotic. She is debating on how necessary the ointment is when a voice says above her, “What are you doing?”

Omega wishes she could deny the pathetic squeak of alarm that escapes her lungs before she clasps both hands over her mouth, dropping the bandages back into the chaos of the kit. Curses!

“Hunter,” she says, looking up at the Sargent. She isn’t sure if he meant to sneak up on her or not, but by the guilty look on his face, she suspects not. Omega scrambles to her feet. “Sorry. I just—sorry. Uhm…”

Hunter looks down at the med kit. “Are you hurt, kid?” he asks.

Omega’s cheeks burn with embarrassment, though she can’t decide if it’s more from being caught sneaking into the med kit or having to admit she’s hurt. Needing bandages for scraped up knees sounds so childish when compared to the injuries her brothers must’ve sustained over their lives as soldiers. “No, I’m fine. Really.”

Hunter gives her a look, and Omega can’t hold his gaze, averting her eyes to the shadows in the corner.

“Omega,” Hunter says gently but firmly, “in this squad, we do not hide injuries.”

“It’s not an injury,” Omega protests, “I just sorta scraped my knees up when I was crawling around in that cave on Ordo Moon. It’s nothing!”

“Let me be the judge of that,” Hunter says, picking up the med kit and nodding toward the cockpit.

Omega frowns, but follows Hunter, climbing into the copilot’s seat. She rolls up her leggings to expose the torn-up skin on her knees. Honestly, it looks and feels worse than it actually is, she knows; however, the expression on Hunter’s face when he kneels down in front of her to examine the damage for himself makes her eyes burn. He looks so…concerned. Over something so minor. Whenever something like this happened in the lab, Nala Se would tell Omega she was more than capable of taking care of herself.

“‘Mega,” he says softly, “You should have told us.”

Omega blinks, surprised by the nickname. She’s never had a nickname before…unless she counted being called kid…

“I didn’t want to be a bother,” Omega says. She sniffs and roughly rubs a fist over her eyes to hide the tears that come.

Hunter smiles at her, a small thing that is barely noticeable, but she sees it. “It’s never a bother to take care of our own, Omega. You don’t know how many bloodied scrapes I’ve cleaned up and bandaged over the years, for all our brothers, and they’ve done the same for me. And you’re one of us now, right?”

Omega nods. She doesn’t trust her voice to come out without wobbling.

“That means,” Hunter continues, starting to rummage through the med kit, “when you get hurt, no matter how small you think it is, you’ll let one of us know, right?”

Omega nods again.

Hunter works with practiced ease, and with a gentleness Omega hadn’t entirely expected from a soldier. When he is finished, Omega rolls her leggings back into place while Hunter puts away the med kit. When he returns, Omega smiles at him. “Thank you, Hunter.”

“Sure thing, kid,” Hunter says, ruffling her hair. “You’d better get back to bed.”

“Yes, sir!” Omega slides out of the seat. She walks back to her gunner’s mount room feeling lighter.

As she curls back up under her blankets, hugging Lula close, she decides that having brothers is even better than she imagined it would be.

END

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[casual-violinist-fangirl]

Saving Stardust - 5,174 Words

Set in a world where Omega has been rescued following her second capturing and no one dies! The Bad Batch takes on one final mission and are tasked with delivering the Erso family to safety. Omega, being the traumatised bean that she is, doesn't take too kindly to Imperial scientists being on the ship.

Or:

How Jyn Erso ended up with her Trooper Doll.

I love Rogue One and this was a lot of fun to write! In this, Jyn is about three years old and the Bad Batch are flying their new ship, the Firebird (named after one of my favourite pieces of music ever). I hope you enjoy!

. Link to my AO3 page and Tumblr Masterlist

Thank you for reading!

—��——

Initially, Hunter had refused to take the job, no matter how well it paid. Their days as delivery boys were over and they had no interest in ferrying anyone about, not even if it was to help them hide from the Empire. That had gotten Phee frustrated with him.

“You’re not too different from this family, Hunter,” she tried to reason as they walked to the Archium. Hunter shook his head, adjusting his jacket as he did. 

“We don’t pull jobs like that anymore, Phee,” he replied. He tried to keep his voice even, but he knew he just sounded annoyed. “Especially not since our last run-in with the Empire. We stay where we’re safe.”

The pirate sighed, exasperated. She was definitely beginning to see what Tech had always meant about Hunter being stubborn.

“This couple have a daughter,” she pulled as a last result. Hunter stopped in his tacks at that. 

Bingo.

Phee knew it was cruel pulling the ‘they have a child and they’re on the run from the Empire’ card on Hunter, especially seeing as he had shifted the universe to find Omega on Tantiss, but this family deserved to be safe and deserved to be together. 

“Ughhhh,” Hunter groaned as he ran his hands over his face in defeat. Phee felt herself beginning to smile. “I’ll talk to the others,” he agreed. “But if any of them say no, we’re not doing it!”

He rounded the corner of the street and made his way back to the home he shared with his brothers and Omega, disappearing from sight. 

Of course, Phee had neglected to mention that this family had history as Imperial scientists… not exactly the squad’s favourite type of people. Hopefully the team would be able to see past that, the pirate mused to herself as she reached for her comm and prepared to contact the family.

——

Two hours later, the squad were waiting for Phee to return from collecting the family. Wrecker impatiently tapped his foot and complained every five minutes that this was taking too long only for Crosshair to tell him to stow it each time. 

Hunter could feel himself getting more twitchy as time passed. They had been waiting for nearly thirty minutes now, and Phee was usually more punctual than that. He did his best not to let his concern show though, as he was painfully aware of Omega stood next to him, not wanting to let him out of her sight.

This was her first mission since her return from Tantiss for the second time; Hunter had tried to persuade her to stay on Pabu with Lyana and Shep, but she had shot him down quickly. 

“I’m not leaving you!” she had practically yelled at him, fear in her eyes and her voice. Crosshair had taken over then, reassuring her that she wasn’t going anywhere and that of course she could go with them. Hunter had only been trying to look out for her.

It was times like these that he caught himself trying to remember how he’d coped with Omega’s outbursts before Crosshair had gotten back.

Out of the shadows, the telltale figure of Phee emerged. She was wearing a cloak with a large hood, and was being followed by three figures. As they appeared and realised that they were safe now, they removed their hoods and relaxed a little; Hunter had been about to introduce himself when he felt Omega go rigid next to him. He glanced at her, trying to figure out what was wrong when he realised she was staring at the man… Galen Erso? Hunter followed his daughter’s gaze only to scowl at what he saw. 

Phee hadn’t mentioned anything about the Erso family being Imperial scientists. 

He had been about to turn and give the pirate a piece of his mind, but wasn’t able to take the opportunity as she had disappeared back into the shadows as quickly as she had arrived. Hunter growled and made a mental note to talk to her when they got back. How could she be so senseless? 

“Thank you for rescuing our family,” the woman, Lyra, spoke first. She had kind eyes and a soft smile on her face as she spotted Omega clinging to Hunter. “I’m sure you understand more than most how important it is to keep your family safe.”

Crosshair, who had also clocked the uniform now, rolled his eyes and stalked back onto the ship He clearly wanted nothing to do with this mission then. Wrecker followed him, but took a seat in the cockpit to help get ready for takeoff. That left Hunter, Omega and the Erso family stood next to the Firebird. The little girl, Jyn was her name, skipped onto the ship, seemingly unaware of the situation unfolding around her.

Omega started trembling, something she hadn’t done out of the blue in a long time. Hunter gently slung his arm around her and held her tight. He pulled a face and sniffed dismissively in the direction of Galen before turning and heading towards the ramp of the ship. The couple followed him in silence, their confusion clear. Hunter, quite frankly couldn’t bring himself to care. They had a job to do and he would be glad when it was over and they could go back to their safe haven.

He sat in the pilot’s chair before glancing over at Omega; she was sat stock still in the co-pilot’s seat, re-living something that he didn’t know about. Hunter sighed quietly before turning his attention back to the controls.

He was definitely going to have words with Phee when this was over.

——

The sleep cycle came around, but Omega protested against sleep. “What if you need me?” she asked, her eyes full of worry. Hunter sighed, not for the first time that day, but this time it was full of affection for the girl he’d come to call his daughter. She had been sat in silence up until this point in their trip, just staring blankly out of the port window or eyeing up Galen Erso warily. 

“We’ll be fine, ad’ika,” he soothed as he opened her arms. She went to him and wrapped her arms around his middle. She squeezed him tight before retreating to her room - unlike the Marauder, the Firebird had two bunk rooms, each with four beds. He and the boys shared one, and Omega by default had her own room. This was a little different today as she was sharing with the Erso child and her mother. The three year old had found Omega’s string of lights fascinating and had giggled as they twinkled. She had also taken up an obsession with Omega’s new trooper doll; the young clone hadn’t gotten around to decorating this one.

Hunter was a hypocrite; he had already decided that until the Erso family were dropped off at their destination, he wasn’t going to sleep. They were Imperials, even if they were ex-Imperials, and the panic on Omega’s face as she saw the scientists’ uniform had been the final nail in the coffin. Hunter needed to be on lookout so that his kid felt like she could have a full night’s sleep without having to watch her back. The look of fear had gone unnoticed by Jyn, who had tried to surgically attach herself to Omega, had not been missed by Galen and his wife.

Once Hunter heard the door to his little girl’s room close, he sighed quietly and turned to the nav-computer. 

Slowly, everyone began to settle down for the night. Wrecker had been the one to crash first, mumbling a “g’night” to Hunter and Crosshair and nodding at Galen and Lyra. Lyra had been second, saying that she didn’t want to disturb the girls any later than she had to. She had thanked Hunter and Crosshair one final time and bid her husband goodnight before creeping into the room currently being shared by Omega and Jyn.

Hunter had listened intently as the door opened, but noticed no change in the steady heartbeats and heavy breathing coming from the two children within. Good, he thought as he carried on his work. 

Crosshair had retired an hour or so later; he had spent a minute having a silent conversation with Hunter. 

Want me to stay?

No, sleep. 

You sure?

Go, Crosshair.

The sniper had grumbled about getting a stiff back as he stood from his chair and moved towards the bunk room. As the door opened he glanced at Hunter one last time. His look said it all. 

If he gives you shit, you come and get me.

That left Hunter and the scientist. Galen Erso. Hunter knew enough to know that the man wasn’t in cahoots with Hemlock, and he hadn’t had his hands on Project Necromancer… but that still didn’t being him comfort. 

It had been six months since Omega’s second rescue and it was safe to say that she had been nothing short of traumatised. It had taken weeks of sleepless and tearful nights, screaming episodes and panic attacks before she began to show her true colours again. He was worried that something as small as Galen’s uniform would send her all the way back to square one, and he wasn’t sure if he was prepared to deal with that.

“I noticed your little girl has an aversion to scientists.” It was as though Erso could read his mind. Hunter scowled, trying to look busy for a minute or two before realising that it was going to be no good. He swivelled in his chair to face the other man; for some reason Hunter had been expecting to see some kind go smugness in his eyes, but he saw nothing but curiosity and… sadness?

“You've had dealings with the Empire before?”

Hunter snorted before he could help himself. Had they had dealings with the Empire? Of course they had. They were clones for crying out loud. They had been there when the Empire was born. Instead of saying anything, he simply nodded. He wasn’t sure how much he could trust this man, regardless of his departure from the Empire. The squad had learned the hard way that sometimes giving up information was a dangerous game. Information was priceless, and deadly if left in the wrong hands.

“I don’t expect you to trust me, sergeant,” Erso continued speaking when he realised that Hunter wasn’t going to say anything. “However I can try to express just how far removed I am from the Empire. I have no desire to go back to them, not after the chaos and destruction they have caused.”

There was a pause as Hunter eyed the man, leaning back in his chair as he tried not to see the similarities between them. In reality, Galen was a man trying to protect his family as they went on the run from the Empire. He was trying to forge a life for Jyn and Lyra that didn’t involve looking over their shoulders… Hunter could see a little bit of himself in the man, especially in the way he doted on his child.

“Omega has been experimented on since she was a toddler,” he conceded, his throat tightening at the thought. “She… she was kidnapped by Hemlock about a year ago and held captive whilst…” He couldn’t carry on. The thought of Omega being trapped on Tantiss made him want to be sick. Galen nodded, a look of horrified recognition in his eyes at the mention of Royce Hemlock. It occurred to Hunter then that Erso must have had some contact with Hemlock, even if it was only in passing… even if it was only at conferences when all of the scientists updated the Empire on their progress.

“I’m sorry,” he replied eventually and even though Hunter would have scoffed at that normally, he could feel the weight behind those words. He nodded at the scientist once more; Galen Erso couldn’t undo the past, but him leaving the Empire was a step in the right direction. A movement that would damage the vile dictatorship that sought to destroy all that was sacred.

“We’re recovering…” he trailed off with a small huff. “She’s recovering, but it’s been a long journey.” 

And it wasn’t over yet, it the Bad Batch knew this to be true. Whilst Omega didn’t wake up screaming as often, didn’t shy away from going outside, she wasn’t the cheerful little girl she had been before. She was more withdrawn and still favoured being glued to Hunter’s side on missions. He had heard her pacing her room at night more times than he could count, but didn’t intervene; if she needed him, she would go to him. He knew that.

As if their conversation had triggered it all, he suddenly heard a change in Omega’s heartbeat. Her breathing picked up, only loud enough for him to hear with his capabilities, but before he could stand and move towards her room, she let out a sharp cry.

Galen’s head snapped towards the door of the room, his guard immediately raised but Hunter waved him down. “It’s Omega,” he whispered before a light patter of feet could be heard and the door to her room hissed open. 

Omega appeared in between the two rooms, her breathing still rapid as she trembled; Hunter put her out of her misery by leaving his chair and crossing the room to greet her. He crouched down so that he was in her line of sight. 

“B-buir,” she started, shaking as she reached for him. He grasped her hands, running his thumbs over her knuckles in a gentle, soothing motion.

“I’m here, ‘Mega,” he soothed, plastering a small (albeit fake) smile on his face. The little girl’s breaths came out in short, sharp huffs as she tried to gain control of herself. “Just breathe with me, ad’ika,” Hunter placed one of her small hands over his chest so that she could feel the rise and fall as he modelled the way she should try to breathe.

“I-I was…” Omega glanced at Galen, tears streaming down her cheeks. Her breathing was beginning to even out again, but she was clearly distraught. More distraught than Hunter had seen her in a while. Hunter hushed her, instead encouraging her to just focus on him. On her breathing. On staying calm.

When eventually her breathing had slowed to a sensible rate, Hunter opened his arms. Omega collapsed into them, trembling and sniffling. The sergeant carted his hand through her hair; it was brushing her shoulders now and hung loose on this particular evening. They said nothing as he scooped her up and carried her to one of the chairs in the cockpit, ignoring Galen (who had the presence of mind to take interest in his holo pad).

Omega was wearing her pyjamas, a short sleeved top and shorts that came to just above her knee. Hunter remembered when he’d found her on Tantiss, how her arms had been mottled with bruises and marks from when needles had pierced her skin. Now her arms were clear of bruises (save ones she’d obtained from being clumsy) but the scars she bore from her time as an experiment remained. She had been hooked up to more machines, tested on over and over again more times that she could count and the abuse showed on her skin. She still bore a scar hidden under her hair from an attempt at implanting a chip to monitor her brain activity. Hunter had seen red when he’d first discovered it there.

Hunter rocked the child as he cradled her, swivelling the chair back and forth in slow, calculated movements. He remembered a time when he had done this for nights at a time, switching between rocking her and swivelling the chair to try and lull her into a slumber. When she had been much younger, he had paced back and forth with her in his arms on board the Marauder. He had been exhausted, falling asleep in the middle of the day a lot of the time, but he had never said no to her when she sought his comfort. 

——

(Six Months Ago, Just After Omega’s Rescue)

It was relatively quiet on the Firebird, Hunter mused to himself… except for the crying child in his arms; he knew Crosshair and Wrecker had opted to go to the bunk room this time. They had all learned quite quickly that Omega didn’t enjoy an audience when she was struggling. 

This was the third night in a row that the girl in question had dissolved into tears at the mention of going to bed. They had tried everything, including setting up Hunter’s pillow and blanket in the bunk room with her. It hadn’t worked.

Hunter knew that if Tech was there, or Echo to be fair, they would recommend sedating Omega. A light dose that would ease her into a dreamless sleep and allow Hunter to get some rest as well.

The sergeant was determined not to resort to that - Omega had spent enough time being prodded and poked by needles. The damage done whilst she was on Tantiss was there for all to see. Her arms were wrapped in gauze and plastered with bacta. She whimpered in his embrace, clinging to his shirt like it was a lifeline.

“I’m not going anywhere, ad’ika,” he soothed in a hushed tone, noting how the little girl nodded but still clung to him.

“You’re safe now,” he continued. “He can’t hurt you anymore.”

Omega didn’t respond verbally, she simply stared absently into the void, blinking slowly. She must have been exhausted but Hunter knew that she was plagued with horrible sights every time she closed her eyes. He didn’t think she’d actually slept since leaving Tantiss, which had been three days ago… she needed to rest.

“I can hear you thinking,” she croaked. Her voice sounded void of emotion, not like her at all. Hunter swore that if Hemlock hadn’t been killed by Crosshair, he would have taken joy in doing ti himself. The psychotic doctor had broken his kid. His little girl, who used to have the galaxy in her eyes. 

“Sorry,” he looked down at the child in his arms. “I’ll try to think more quietly.” This got a small snort out of Omega, and Hunter’s heart skipped a beat. For a split second it was like she was back with him before she drifted away again, distant and remorseful. 

“You’re forgiven,” she replied, a ghost of a smile on her face as she glanced up at her Buir. “I know you think I need sleep,” she carried on, snuggling further into Hunter’s embrace. 

The sergeant hummed in response, not committing to a verbal answer. There was a slight pause, neither of them breaking the restful silence. 

“I just don’t want to wake up and all of this be gone. That happened enough times when I was… there.” 

Hunter nodded, still looking down at the little girl. There were dark circles under her eyes and she was pale; telltale signs that she was running on empty.

“I know you’re worried, ad’ika,” he replied. “Want to run through it again?” A small nod and he smiled genuinely this time. 

“What can you see, kid?” 

“The stars.”

“What can you hear?”

“Wrecker. He’s snoring.”

Hunter snorted at that. “What can you feel?”

This exercise went on for a while; it was one they had rehearsed and whilst it had never been successful in easing Omega to sleep, it had definitely soothed her and reassured her that this was reality to start with.

This time, however, Hunter could feel her head slowly growing heavier on his chest. He could hear her heartbeat slowing down and her breathing beginning to even out. Had the exhaustion finally caught up with her? He wouldn’t be surprised. 

“Don’t leave me,” came a tired whisper, Omega taking one final, feeble grasp at his shirt. He nodded, gently kissing her forehead. 

“Never, ad’ika. I promise I’ll be here when you wake up.”

The little girl nodded the tiniest amount before she was no longer awake, falling into a deep (hopefully dreamless) sleep. Hunter could have cried in that moment; he had hoped that him refusing to sedate Omega would have paid off in the end, and here she was. Sleeping… it may not have been a completely sound sleep, and she might wake up screaming for him in an hour but for now she was safe. She was resting, asleep in his arms. 

As slowly as he could, Hunter reclined his seat slightly and rested his head against the headrest. Knowing that she was resting meant that he felt as though he could do the same and before long, he too was was in a deep sleep.

When Wrecker and Crosshair found them later, they had slowly retreated back into the bunk room. They had, of course, taken a photo of them before they went.

——

(Present Day)

Luckily, it hadn’t taken long for Omega to be soothed into a light sleep this time; Hunter had whispered a quiet “I love you,” to her as she’d dozed off again, tear tracks clear on her face and her breathing still a little stuttered from her crying. Resting his chin on top of her head, the sergeant glanced over at Galen. The scientist had a hard-set frown on his features as he watched the pair, his eyes glancing over the scars that littered Omega’s arms. 

“The Empire did this?” he asked, his voice full of trepidation.

Hunter simply nodded, not needing to verbalise his response. He could see Erso mulling over this fact, clearly thinking of his own daughter. 

Out of habit, Hunter tuned into the sounds coming from the bunk rooms - Crosshair and Wrecker both slept soundly, and he could hear two gentle heartbeats coming from Omega’s room. Everyone was safe. He whispered as much to Galen, who nodded in thanks. 

“She’s been so brave,” Hunter said quietly, looking down at the child in his arms. “I don’t know half of what they did to her, she doesn’t like to talk about it, but I won’t let anyone lay a finger on her again.”

Another nod from Galen, whose eyes were still fixed on Omega’s scars. Had she been awake, she would have glared at him and grabbed her jacket. She would be marked by the Empire for the rest of her life, and Hunter had to live with knowing that he hadn’t been able to help his little girl.

“Please,” he started after a long silence. “If you’re found…” he trailed off, not wanting to think about Jyn being snatched by Imperials. “Don’t tell them about us.”

It came out as more of a desperate plea than a stern request from a soldier. He didn’t think Omega would cope if the Empire caught wind of her again. He certainly wouldn’t cope if he had to search half of the galaxy for her. She was his kid and in the time they’d been separated, he’d felt as though he couldn’t breathe properly. He looked up at Galen Erso, his eyes tired and desperate. The scientist regarded the clone before nodding.

“You have my word, they’ll never know of your involvement in this,” he stated. Hunter believed him. 

Galen had stood and bid Hunter goodnight not long after that, suggesting that the sergeant should get sleep as well. 

“I know what it is to love your child so much it hurts, Hunter,” Erso had said. “But you need to be functioning to be able to look after her.” With that final statement, he headed into the bunk room that held Crosshair and Wrecker. Hunter was left alone with Omega, still swinging his chair gently. He supposed resting his eyes for a little while wouldn’t hurt. Resting his head against the back of the chair, Hunter closed his eyes and allowed himself to join his daughter in sleep.

The following morning they were halfway through their time in hyperspace… and Jyn was bored. The little girl had never been on a long-haul flight before and it was safe to say that the novelty of it all had well and truly worn off. Galen and Lyra had tried their best, and in fairness they had come prepared for a long trip with a small child. Jyn had played with some small figures in her backpack, drawn multiple pictures of the Bad Batch and her family, and had tried playing a game with her father. She was now out of new things to do, and was making it the problem of everyone on board. 

Crosshair had scarpered first, claiming that his rifle needed cleaning; this had made Hunter laugh. He had forgotten that even though his brother adored Omega, he was uncomfortable with smaller children. Especially excitable ones. Jyn had steered clear of Wrecker, slightly intimidated by the clone’s height. Hunter had expected Wrecker to be more upset by that then he was, but he had busied himself elsewhere in the hold of the ship. Hunter was sat in the pilot’s seat, his feet propped up on the dashboard when he felt a small tug at his arm.

“Are you Omega’s daddy?” A small, curious voice asked and Hunter turned to the tiny child with a small smile on his face. “I saw you cuddling her this morning. She looked happy.”

Slightly unsure of what to do, Hunter tried to recall what he had done when interacting with Cut and Suu’s children when they had been little. He clambered out of his chair and crouched down to make himself as close to Jyn’s height as possible.

“I guess I am, yeah,” he replied with a nervous chuckle. Usually people just assumed that he was Omega’s father. He wasn’t used to inquisitive children asking him that question. Hunter glanced up at his kid; Omega was tapping at a data pad, pretending that she wasn’t listening to the conversation. It made him smirk; the kid thought she was so sneaky.

Jyn nodded, taking this information on board. Hunter could practically feel her gearing up to ask more questions. 

“Omega’s daddy?” she started. “Is it okay if I play with Omega?” The question stumped him a little. Out of the corner of his eye he could see Omega glancing up from the data pad.

“Well that’s not up to me, kid,” he started, his eyes flickering over to his daughter. She looked a little uncomfortable, but plastered a convincing smile on her face as Jyn approached her.

“Omega, can we play?” There must have been something about her pleading tone or the look on her face, because Omega crumbled and nodded. She allowed herself to be pulled by the hand to her room.

In the back of his mind, Hunter held a small, nagging worry but he squashed it. They were on a ship in hyperspace for kriff’s sake! There was no way that anyone could get to Omega here. He really needed to relax. 

Trying not to think about it too much, he busied himself checking the nav computer and the ship’s vitals…

… he stopped dead in his tracks when he heard something he hadn’t heard in a long, long time.

Omega had laughed. 

Not just a snort of laughter or a small chuckle, she had full on laughed. Laughed like she was the carefree child she should be. Hunter’s head shot up at the noise, and tears sprung to his eyes unbidden as he heard it again. 

Galen and Lyra had been sat talking quietly to one another but stopped their conversation to glance at the sergeant. 

“Are you okay?” Lyra asked, a small look of concern on her features. Galen, however, only had a look of understanding on his face. 

“I’m okay,” Hunter managed after a few seconds. “I just… I just haven’t heard her laughing like that in a long time.” He smiled, making it clear that he actually was okay. The couple nodded, Galen sharing Hunter’s knowing smile before going back to the conversation they had been having previously. Hunter allowed himself to tune into Jyn and Omega’s game, smiling every time he heard his little girl laughing and playing along with whatever stories Jyn was making up as she went along. 

————

One day later, when the Firebird finally reached it’s destination, everyone had disembarked. Wrecker had been first, stretching and declaring loudly that he was happy to be back on solid ground; it was no secret that out of all of Hunter’s brothers, Wrecker was the one who liked flying the least. Jyn had been quick to follow him, her fear of the gentle giant no longer present. 

Hunter stood on the ramp of the ship, watching as Lyra and Galen spoke to a local tradesperson… something to do with transport to a nearby farm. Wrecker was playing with Jyn and Crosshair was sat watching, teasing Wrecker as Jyn managed to evade his capture.

Light footsteps approached behind him and he turned to face Omega. She looked more relaxed than he’d seen in a while and it warmed him to see her smile at him. She came and stood next to him before fidgeting and wriggling so that his arm was wrapped around her. 

“You good, kid?” he asked softly and she nodded. Her hair was loose again and it bobbed as she nodded.

“Just… taking it all in,” she breathed. “I’m looking forward to going home.” 

Home. For a long time, Hunter was convinced that his family would never had a home, but Pabu had proven to be the sanctuary that they needed.

“I’ve got a present for Jyn,” she carried on a moment later, fiddling with a small bundle in her arms. Hunter recognised one of Omega’s card games and something else.

“You’re giving away Trooper?” he asked, surprised. Admittedly, this trooper wasn’t the same as her previous one, and it still hadn’t been painted in Bad Batch colours. Omega nodded again, shrugging her shoulders lightly. 

“I have Lula,” she started. “And besides, sometimes it’s the small things that comfort you when you’re living the life that she’s gonna be living.”

Hunter had to blink away proud tears. Omega knew what sort of life the Erso family were in for and in typical Omega fashion, she wanted to help where she could. The child padded down the ramp and headed over to Jyn. She crouched down to the girl’s level and spoke to her softly; once she had presented the presents, Jyn had squealed and thrown her arms around Omega. She wobbled under the attack but recovered quickly and held her back. Galen and Lyra glanced over at the scene, warm smiles on their faces before they called Jyn to them. 

It was time to go.

The squad had stayed, waving the family off as they travelled into the distance towards their new life. Then, one by one they had made their way back onto the Firebird.

It was time to go home.

[fanfictasia]

Whumpuary Prompt 4

“Help me”

Spoiler: This is an excerpt from The Nighttime Fear

Going under is… strange. Hunter’s been sedated before, but this is different. He feels like he’s floating like there’s something pulling him in.

“I know who you are,” a familiar bright voice says, “You’re Crosshair.”

“How do you know me?” Crosshair snarls back, and the image slowly drifts into focus. Kamino. The brilliant white light is something Hunter would recognize, anywhere.

The image shifts before she can answer. It shudders, darkening, and he sees flashes, fleeting images. He sees Crosshair. He sees the girl.

The surroundings are unclear when it settles again, but it’s dimmer. Crosshair – dreseed in black, and it looks so wrong on him that it hurts – is standing, facing her. His lightsaber blade is ignited and red. That hurts, too.

Her eyes are wide.

She’s wearing a forehead-pendant thing that reminds Hunter of the one Nala Se used to wear, though it was such a long time ago, he couldn’t say if the markings are identical. He’s seen it before, but never so vividly.

“My mission is to find them,” Crosshair says, voice silkily smooth enough that it makes Hunter’s skin crawl. He only talks like that when he’s about to react with violence. “And that’s what you want. I don’t see why that should be a problem.”

“What does the Empire want with our brothers?” she demands. She sounds angry and terrified at once.

“What’s it to you?” he snarks back, stalking forwards.

The girl backs away from him, eyes wide.  “Crosshair, this isn’t you!” she yells as he grabs her wrist. “It’s your inhibitor chip!”

She knows about those, too, Hunter thinks numbly.

“Don’t make this difficult,” he snarls, “They aren’t worth hurting for.”

“Yes, they are!” she yells back at him, defiant and angry. “They’re our brothers!”

“Hunter!” She didn’t speak, because he didn’t see her say it, but he still heard the echo of his name in her mind, calling him. Crying for him.

[barissoffee]

Star Wars: The Bad Batch 3.15 | The Cavalry Has Arrived

[zaana]

Crosshair being a big brother

[mercurio-shadowz]

Sources are telling me that the way I see Rouge and Shadow's relationship is In Fact a Queerplatonic Relationship

The sources being me googling what it means again as a refresher

Anyways

QPR Rouge & Shadow !!!! rAHHHH!!!!!

[homeforclones]

The difference between Season 1 and Season 3 of the Bad Batch

Season 1: Omega: Crosshair, can I have a hug? Crosshair: The audacity??? Of this Child??? Nothing would revolt me more than to show any kind of weakness to sate your neediness. Season 3: Omega: Crosshair, you're getting a hug. Crosshair: The charity??? Of my Sister??? Nothing would give me more joy than to be hugged by the Literal Angel that you are, though I am a lowly worm.

[writeshite]

Jack Reacher looks like he gives the best hugs

Jack was always warm. Regardless the season or time, he was always a source of heat, even in the warm Georgia sun you enjoyed the warmth as it reminded you he was well and had walked out from the prison alive. “I don’t think Oscar likes you much,” You whispered to him, laughing softly into his shoulder.

“Not my fault,” he responded in his defence, arms wound tight around you, he buried his nose into your shoulder with equal fervour. Despite his aversion to permanency, he possessed over you as a child would their favourite toy, having likened you his most precious commodity.

The prison’s stale scent lingered thinly on him, and he loathed it. A hand drifted under your shirt to meet your skin and he hunched over further, as he mouthed at the junction on your neck, coaxing your scent out in larger swaths—the sugarcane fragrance was first, much to his delight, and he rubbed his cheeks hard against your skin as the aroma of basil and graphite arose. You angled your head closer to his, kissing his temple, “Homicide?” You inquired.

“Not here,” he spoke softly, tension surfacing in his tone and form. You shelve the rest of your questions and rub circles on his back, the hand under your shirt wound closer around you, his other hand gripped the back of your neck as though he were to meld with your body.

Roscoe cleared her throat, pursing her lips in a teasing smile, fanning the air around her with her hand, “Alright lovebirds, wanna take this somewhere else?” Jack looked up, glaring at her, Roscoe shrugged as she gestured to the police car. You snorted as Jack grumbled and followed after you to the vehicle.

[dindjarindiaries]

Omega ran to hug Crosshair first because she realized that he not only made the shot perfectly, but he did it without his shooting hand. She was so proud of him I could cry

[raevulsix]

The Bad Batch S 3 Ep. 5: The Return

Crosshair just wants a hug, man.

[marvel-starwarsfangirl]

Watching "Bad Territory" and "Paths Unknown" from a mental health perspective really dials up the angst. It's so obvious that the Batch all really need therapy and it's sad to see them all struggle. So much has changed over the past year for them and by season 3, the cracks really show more than ever. Because they're so used to the solider life, pretty much all of them, particularly Crosshair, internalizes their pain to the point of self-destruction. They don't want to talk about it and it affects all of them.

Hunter's inability to keep his squad together after Order 66 happens takes a big toll on him. He directs all his energy at Omega and losing her in season 2 really pushes him over the edge. Instead of talking about it, he begins to act more recklessly. Hunter also has to deal with seeing Crosshair get turned against him and choose that at the end of season 1. There's also a lot of guilt he probably feels about leaving Cross and seeing the Batch's numbers dwindle. Going back to Omega, she probably gave him something to hold on to. She gives him a purpose despite all the guilt and pain he feels.

Crosshair is the most sensitive of the Batch in my opinion. He internalizes a lot and holds on to it. He lets it fester and I think he does so much more Hunter. Omega is the only person he feels comfortable enough to be truly vulnerable around. He has his moments with Hunter, but it's not on the same level as Omega. But even with her, he's so haunted by what happened to him that he doesn't want to talk about it. He also deflects a lot, putting himself down or lashes out to protect himself. One of the reasons why I loved the meditation sequence is because he slowly begins to find peace of mind. That's really going to help him when he eventually opens up.

Wrecker had to become more mature and the voice of reason for Hunter. While he has his jokey moments, he's much quieter and reserved. He knows he has to be strong for Hunter, just like Omega is for Crosshair. There's something sad to see the most jolly and upbeat characters become more quiet and serious. It shows just how dark things have become.

Speaking of Omega, she's not ok. Between her past and whatever else she went through on Tantiss, there is a lot going on in that little head of hers. She feels guilty for leaving the other clones behind and she went through/saw some very bad stuff. However, she's neglecting her own mental needs for two reasons in my opinion. #1: she's trying to not worry her brothers. She knows her absence affected them. I can imagine she doesn't want to feel guilty about putting more stress on them. #2: she's trying to be strong for Crosshair. Crosshair is the most outward with his mental struggles because it manifests as psychosomatic tremors. That and he pretty much lost all hope after being imprisoned. Omega selflessly puts her own needs aside to be there for him because she knows he's hurting more than he says he is. But how long will keeping up a brave face last for our little sunshine?

I really think "Identity Crisis" will force many of these characters like Cross or Omega to finally open up. They can't hide it forever. Crosshair in particular will have to confront his trauma if he wants his hand to slowly heal. It's a long journey though.

If we compare the Batch in CW vs. TBB S3, it's crazy to think how much they've changed since then. They're all struggling deeply. However, they have each other for support and sometimes, that's the best place to start for healing.

[echo-lover]

Do you hear me? They cannot be separated!

I love this picture so much😭

[fanfictasia]

Chapters: 1/2 Fandom: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars: The Bad Batch (Cartoon) Rating: General Audiences Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Relationships: CT-9904 | Crosshair & Clone Trooper Hunter, Hunter & Omega (Star Wars: The Bad Batch), CT-9904 | Crosshair & Omega (Star Wars: The Bad Batch) Characters: Clone Trooper Hunter (Star Wars), CT-9904 | Crosshair, Omega (Star Wars: The Bad Batch), CT-21-0408 | CT-1409 | Echo (minor), Clone Trooper Wrecker (Star Wars) (minor), Clone Trooper Tech (Star Wars) (minor) Additional Tags: Planet Bracca (Star Wars), Hunter Needs A Hug (Star Wars: The Bad Batch), Omega Needs a Hug (Star Wars: The Bad Batch), Crosshair Needs a Hug (Star Wars: The Bad Batch), Everyone Needs A Hug, Crosshair Rejoins Clone Force 99 | Bad Batch, As if there was any question, Be real people, If you were codependent on someone, And forcibly separated from them, Even letting them out of your sight for a minute would be your greatest fear, I doubt they’d talk this easily for real but still, Hurt/Comfort, Angst, Friendship, Family, Hopeful Ending, Alternate Universe - Wings, Wingfic, Wings, Whump, Hurt Hunter (Star Wars: The Bad Batch)

Summary:

On Bracca, Crosshair corners Hunter and Omega before they can get aboard the Marauder and retrieve the others. Reasoning doesn't work, not with the chip in and Hunter already injured. After shooting Hunter and leaving him to die, Crosshair takes Omega to Kamino, to lure the rest of the Batch into a trap.

Read on:

https://www.wattpad.com/1408365634-the-bad-batch-one-shot-collection-if-your-wings

https://www.fanfiction.net/s/14311186/1/If-Your-Wings-Are-Broken

[ditzyredrobin]

Before and After

Chapter 1

For Whumptober 2024 Day 27, Before and After, Alternate universe

-

So, I guess I forgot to post this one here? Originally, this was just supposed to be one shot—Dick and Lazarus!Tim bonding but 4,613, chapter 2 is on the way. 😂

-

In a blink, the knife is out of his hand soaring across the living room, towards the intruder. All the while without dislodging the bottle from the fussy pup in his arms. After hours of crying—of soothing, and changing, and singing, and bouncing, and burping she had refused to go down until now and Tim was Exhausted™️.

If he didn’t know any better, he would have assumed the black and blue costumed vigilante was another assassin sent by the League—Nightwing moved with easy grace, easing his way through the window, movement flowing like water and air. But not even the best of the League had managed to crack his security without electrocuting the shit out of themselves.

The room was illuminated by Friends reruns and the Gotham skyline peaking in through the crack in the curtains.

Nightwing ducked and weaved, only narrowly missing a knife through the delt. He rolled back to his feet without a hitch, shocking blue eyes wide and wild with the whiteouts down. The knife stuck in the wall with a satisfying thunk.

Without missing a beat Tim uttered lowly, “Breaking and entering is punishable offense. At the very least it’s C felony, at least 10 years in prison, and upwards of a $250,000 fine.” Not that he could actually get a judge in Gotham to prosecute without a hefty bribe.

Nightwing held up his empty palms in surrender keeping his feet firmly planted. “I’m sorry, we haven’t heard from you and I wanted to check on you.”

Tim discretely adjusted the cashmere blanket across his lap over the pup with a silent prayer she didn’t wake up. “Well, you can tell everyone I’m fine. If I needed help, I would have asked.” He snarks, adding. “But I didn’t.”

I don’t need a keeper.

But that was the thing about bats—they had a tendency to be too nosey for their own good, to pick, and poke, and prod until you were on the verge of wanting to pull your hair out and scream.

Boundaries? I hardly know her.

If Nightwing noticed, he didn’t say anything, opting to remove his domino and tucking it away, his brows were furrowed.

Tim knew how he looked—gaunt, deep purple bags under his eyes, cheekbones sharper than they should be.

Welcome to being a single parent.

“I know you didn’t ask but it’s what family does. I want to help.” Dick sounded painfully desperate earning an eye roll. “No matter what you will always be my little brother.”

Tim scoffed, “If I needed help I would have asked.” What part of he’s fine was not getting through that thick skull of his? Maybe it’s just all the years of vigilante-related concussions. “Maybe in another life we were family but I’m not your brother, Dick,” not anymore , “you don’t even know me.”

Dick breathed a heavy sigh, moving around the overstuffed couch to sit. It took everything in Tim not to bare his teeth and growl. “Of course I know you, Tim. You will always be my little brother.”

“But I’m not!” Tim finally snapped, startling Amalia awake. Her little lip wobbled, her nose scrunched, and Tim went into oh shit mode. Her wails made his inside twist and churn with the need to fix it , as she shook her tiny fists in anger.

He set the empty bottle down and adjusted her so she was upright in his arms to burp her. “Shh, ya Rohee,” he crooned, patting her back.

My soul.

She was his everything—his sun, his moon, to the moon and to Saturn. The only good thing that came of his time with Ra’s after the Council of Spiders and the Pit.

He could feel Dick watching him but didn’t look up, opting to instead rock his infant. She was small, even for a babe of her age, he still had a hard time imagining her anything other than fragile.

He nuzzled her, her patch of almost black, whispy hair tickled his nose, purring softly. It was a little uneven with disuse but it soothed her enough to bring her wails down to whimpers. She smelled milky and soft and like his . He did his best to ignore the hint of spicy incense underlying in her scent from her other father.

She was his and no one else’s. It would change in a few months and maybe he would finally stop seeing him in the shadows.

There was no way she was going down now but he’d lost all hope of that when Dick disengaged his security and decided to sneak in (an issue he would be working on a patch for later).

His eyes felt hot but he ignored it. He didn’t need a nap anyways, right? He’d worked more on less after all. This should be cake , right?

Eventually, as the pup calmed down, Tim dared to glance up at his unwanted visitor. There was a complicated expression that Tim couldn’t quite discern despite all of his training. “You don’t know what I’ve been through. I don’t even know who I am.”

For a long moment, Dick sat with that, a complex flurry of emotions crossed his face before settling on something soft. A fondness, watching the small pup in his arms. “You have a baby?” Talk about understatement of the century.

Tim rolled his eyes, continuing to pat the pups baby. “Yes, last time I checked I did, in fact, have a baby. I have the stretch marks to prove it. You want to see?”

Dick shook his head, “That isn’t what I meant. I just…How old is she? What’s her name?” He sat forward with his elbows on his knees.

Tim had to think for a long moment, back tracking the dates. The escape had been four days following her birth, still sore and as unsteady on his legs like a newborn fawn. There hadn’t been a choice—it was escape or lose Amalia. She had been born weak, words like failure to thrive had been tossed around. Ra’s Al Guhl was gifted with another disappointing heir.

“Well, Timothy, we’ll just have to try again, won’t we? Surely you won’t disappoint your Alpha a second time.” The or else was implied.

He had still been on his back, bleeding from the long birth. His milk supply hadn’t come in and the tiny pup wailed across the room with the wet nurse.

“Tim?” Dick sounded concerned, snapping him back into the present. His grip on Amalia tightened just a hair, her warm weight against his shoulder grounding.

“Amalia,” he said remembering the question. “Her name is Amalia and she’s-“ If he had been in Gotham for nearly a month, days before being found out and the trek from the Cradle to Gotham had taken around two weeks… “Her birthday is July 19th.” He said instead.

Fresh out of the Pit, time was hazy, seasons and dates made little impact on his life and Gotham’s perpetually gray skies.

Dick had a worried look on his face. “What about her other the father?”

“Dead.” Tim said succinctly.

That he made sure of.

Dick made a soft noise of acknowledgement, continuing to watch the baby with a fondness in his eyes. He didn’t push the matter. “She’s beautiful. You did so well.” He croons softly, “I’m sure it was hard for you.” He didn’t know the half of it.

“It was hard,” Tim admitted softly, basking in the Alpha’s praise. Finally, Amalia burped. “I had a few people that helped—Talia and an assassin I saved after-“ before he died, after the Pit, and before Amalia. “After. They made it easier but Talia wasn’t around often. I don’t think she was overly fond of what he was doing.”

“What about the assassin?”

Tim bit his lip, his eyes felt hot. “I don’t feel her bond anymore.” There was a bone deep ache without her. Whether she had cut it herself to save him, or really hadn’t made it out after Ra’s death, was all up in the air. “I’ve looked for her but-“

“But she’s part of the League.” Dick filled in and Tim nodded. He was quiet for a long moment before promising, “We’ll find her.”

Tim looked up from the pup quickly, “What?”

“We’ll find her.” Dick repeated with all of the seriousness in the world. “For you. I promise.”

Tim held his eye for a long moment, gauging the whether or not believe his words but Dick’s resolve never faltered. He felt his pulse pick up and a bright blip of emotion he didn’t want to think about. “Don’t make promises you can’t keep. What about Batman? He doubt he’ll be a fan of having a member of the League in Gotham.”

“I’ll handle Bruce.” Dick promised. “Just focus on you and your pup. We will find her.”

Tim bit his lip nodding once. He didn’t trust it but maybe… maybe just this once he would try.

[emisprocrastinatingbywriting]

Alone and Forsaken

Chapter 5 Summary:

You wake the next morning to find Joel gone, your heat now lighting up every nerve ending in your body. Meanwhile Joel, sent into a frenzy by your unexpected visitor, works to fortify your position. After slicing his hand on a piece of barbed wire, he returns to the cabin only to be met with a sight that has his knees weak. Can Joel keep his distance?

Warnings: Bad dreams, brief mentions of past abuse/violence, reader has a fucked up past y'all, heats, hurt/comfort, and SMUT, sooo much smut (Minors, DNI please)

A/N: Howdy y'all! I hope all of you have had an amazing week :) Things are heating up (no pun intended) between you and Joel. But first, a nightmare about reader's time in the pit. As always, take care of yourself first! Trigger warning for the dream but you can scroll through the first bit if that bothers you. Moving forward, major smuttyness brought to you by yours truly, enjoy!

Chapter 5/20

Chapter 5: Hunger

“You know, your mother has been worried sick about you for the past two months.”

The light that framed Josiah’s figure was blinding and you squinted at him as your eyes struggled to adjust to the light. The room that they had been keeping you in was windowless and dark, with cement walls being your only company aside from the guards for the past few weeks. Or was it months? The days blurred together as you wasted away in the pit, the cold hard floor soothing your aching bruises as you tried to keep a hold of your sanity. 

“I guess I should have expected as much, the guards told me that you haven’t been answering their questions no matter what… techniques they use,” he mused, moving forwards into the cell. 

You scooted back, trying to put as much distance between you as you could. Your back hit the wall and you wrapped your arms around your knees, watching as Josiah crouched down in front of you. His pale blue eyes raked over your figure, a look of disgust turning down the corners of his mouth. Josiah sighed, shaking his head before grabbing your face. His bloated fingers pinched your chin and you tried not to wince, unwilling to give him the satisfaction of knowing that you were uncomfortable. 

“When I took you and your mother in, I had believed you to be a little angel. You were always so sweet as a little girl but the second you presented, I knew that you would be trouble. Always sneaking off with that other omega, defying your mother and I and speaking out of turn,” he tsks, pinching your face until you groaned in pain. 

Josiah let go of your face, pushing your head back so that it smacked against the concrete behind you. A sharp crack of pain made tears begin to form on your lash line, and you tried your hardest not to let them fall as he sneered at you. Josiah stood, towering over you for a moment before moving back to lean against the wall across from you. 

“You know what I said to myself the last time you gave me cheek? I said, Josiah, that girl needs an alpha. A strong one like yourself to keep her in line, someone who keeps the faith and does not spare the rod. Lord knows she needs a good whooping every now and again,” Josiah said. 

A laugh came out of your mouth before you could stop it, the sound broken and hollow from the dryness burning your throat. After the physical punishments had failed, the guards had begun to starve you out. You didn’t even remember the last time you had anything in your system but you knew it was too long as your stomach pinched itself and grumbled for food. 

Josiah cocked an eyebrow at you, glaring down at you before he said, “You will be mated to Paul. He will keep you in line and get you back to the Lord’s embrace. That is not up for discussion. The only question is when. If you give up everyone who helped you leave, then I will let you go back to your husband and the two of you can solidify the bond as God intended.” 

“He is not my fucking husband, I never said yes at that stupid ceremony,” you seethed. 

“No, but I did, and I am your father. Omegas don’t get a say, you know that. Now, I’ve talked to Paul and luckily he’s willing to forget your little runaway act. He said he would chalk it up to typical hysteria and let it go, as long as you humble yourself and be the good little wife that you were made to be,” Josiah said calmly, barely acknowledging your outburst.

“I. Am. Not. Your. Property,” you said, ennunciating each word as you scowled at your stepfather. 

Josiah laughed, reaching back and knocking at the wall behind him. A group of guards crowded the doorway and looked towards him, clearly waiting for some sort of instruction. 

“Oh I know you aren’t my property anymore, you’re a married woman now. But unfortunately for you, sweet daughter, your husband has been wronged. You owe him a debt, and you disappeared before he could collect. Now, it’s my job as leader in our community to right wrongs, which means sometimes I have to remind people of their place,” he spat before turning and murmuring something to the men in the doorway. 

Two of the guards moved forward and grasped your arms, dragging you upwards as you thrashed. Josiah just stood there chuckling as the guards struggled to keep you from getting away. 

“Don’t worry, you’ll learn soon enough,” he said before he focused on the guards trying to wrangle you, “Throw her in the sweatbox, see if that jogs her memory at all.” 

“NO!,” you screamed as they yanked you down the hall, tears pouring down your cheeks at the thought of the cursed space.

The sweatbox was infamous within the community, tales from those that survived it becoming a powerful deterrent for everyone else. After being thrown into it three times since your capture, you understood why. Unbearably hot and cramped, the tiny room felt like you were confined on the surface of the sun. You begged the guards through your sobs, remembering the smell of your depleted body and how you had to sit in your own filth for days before they dragged you back to your cell. The guards paid no attention to your cries, barely even looking at you as they shoved you into the room. 

“PLEASE! NO! YOU CAN’T DO THIS!,” you screamed. 

You pounded on the metal door, feeling claustrophobic already in the room that gave you just enough space to sit with your knees folded into your chest. Sweat had already begun to trickle down your back from the heat. You jolted back, the peephole suddenly being ripped open. Josiah’s eyes met yours from the outside, his gaze unwavering and cold. 

“I hope you confess your sins soon child, before Paul comes to me to inquire about a new mate,” he snapped. 

“Please,” you begged, all of the fight in you depleted from fear. 

“Repent or he’ll have no use for you. Sinful omegas beget sinful pups, you’d be wise to remember that. I’d hate to have to comfort your mother because your husband decided he wanted a more… accommodating wife,” Josiah warned, his voice low and daunting. 

Before you could respond to his threat, he slammed the peephole shut, leaving you blind in the dark heat once more. 

-

A gasp escaped your lips as you shot up, sweat pouring down your face as your damp clothes clung to your frame. Your eyes wheeled around the room as you tried to remember where you were. Bookshelves, carvings, a guitar, the worn sofa and throw blankets. You sighed as you remembered that you were with Joel, you were safe. Josiah was dead and Paul? Well, hopefully he was dead too. 

You wiped your brow, the sweat still dripping from your hairline and you tried to calm your racing heart. Standing, you started towards the bedroom in search of Joel but a sharp pang from your core had you dropping down to your knees in front of the couch. You whined, clutching your stomach as a bright and pulsing ache screamed at you from your core. 

“Joel?,” you croaked, suddenly feeling very vulnerable. 

No answer. 

Where was he? You tried to call out again but another wave hit you, forcing wetness to drip down your quaking thighs. You looked down and groaned, realizing what was causing the storm brewing under your thin shorts. 

“JOEL?!,” you cried out more urgently, now needing him for an entirely different reason. 

When no answer arrived, you braced yourself on the couch before stumbling into the bedroom in search of him. Leaning into the wall for support, you inched towards the door as waves of slick soaked through your bottoms. Finally making it, you pushed the door open only to be met with the smell of something sharp and sterile. You stood in the doorway, bewildered at the smell of cleaning products. 

And then it all came back to you. 

The man grabbing you, the struggle, breaking away and throwing the vase in his direction, ripping at his hair as he tried to push his grimy hands up Joel’s shirt, being dragged down the hallway as you wailed and fought, him climbing on top of you and you beating at his chest as panic overwhelmed you, him raising his hand to slap you before he was torn away. 

You stared at the floor, remembering how Joel had defended you. You listened when he instructed you to go, but you had only made it about halfway down the hall before you stopped. A sense of protectiveness had shot through you, what if Joel needed your help? What if the man got the jump on him? You had turned on your heel and crept back into the room just in time to watch Joel snap the neck of your attacker. You hated to admit it, but as you watched his hulking frame tower over the other alpha, a twinge of desire had sparked from your core before you remembered the ordeal that you had just been through. 

Now, with the body gone and nothing left behind besides the stinging scent of lemon, the memory made you feel weak. Joel had protected you, he had provided, he had even comforted you afterwards and covered you in his own scent. You groaned at the thought, forcing yourself towards the bed. Flopping down, you expected to be greeted by the usual aroma of Joel only to find clean sheets devoid of the alpha.  

You cried out, shoving your face into the covers and trying to find any trace of him, but it became clear that he had stripped the bed after disposing of the intruder. Your core burned, sending painful jolts of desire as panic began to needle its way into your chest. 

Moving on autopilot, you ripped open the door to the closet. Stooping down, you collected all of the stolen clothes that you had been hiding from Joel. You shoved your face into the worn fabric, whining at the smell before dumping them on the bed. Tearing into the living room, you collected everything you could, bringing back every blanket or pillow that smelled even remotely like him. You even snagged the bath towel that hung in the bathroom for your pile. Semi-satisfied, you went to work, adjusting the items just so before your instincts signaled that the nest was complete. 

You sighed, feeling slightly less panicked but still nervous at Joel’s absence. You wondered briefly if you should go find him but the jolts coming from your soaking folds were enough to dissuade you of the notion. Instead you crawled into the center, cocooning yourself in Joel’s musk as a fresh wave of slick had you shimmying out of your clothes and flinging them to the floor. 

Grabbing at one of his well worn flannels, you breathed in his scent before shoving it in between your legs. Any sense of shame long since gone, you keened as your pulsing clit rubbed against the harsh fabric. You thought of Joel cutting the wood, of him providing for you so well, of him towering over the man, of him sucking at your neck, of him calling you his. You rocked your hips against the flannel, your clit catching on it and sending sparks up your spine as you tried to imagine it was Joel that you were rubbing yourself against. 

As you ground your hips down hard, with thoughts of Joel swirling through your mind and your heat growing in intensity, you tried hard not to let his absence worry you. Instead you focused on the friction building and the pleasant smell that overwhelmed your frantic senses. 

 - Joel - 

“Fuck,” Joel hissed, a sharp sting erupting from his hand as he caught his flesh on the wire. 

Holding it up to examine, Joel watched as his blood began to trickle from his rough palm down to his rolled up sleeve. He cussed again, sighing as he tore a strip from the t-shirt hidden under his sweater. As Joel wrapped up his fist, he took a moment to focus on his breathing. Trying to calm his pounding heart, he tried not to think of what was waiting for him back at the cabin. 

Joel had woken that morning confused. He couldn’t remember the last time he had slept without having his cruel memories jerk him back to consciousness. He had slept peacefully for the first time in a very long time, but his neck was fucking killing him. He groaned, cursing himself for getting so old. Lifting his head from the soft pillow that cradled his face, Joel propped himself up on his elbows. 

It took him a moment longer to notice you as his eyes adjusted to the early morning light that poured in from the windows, but then he did. His breath caught in his throat as he hovered over your sleeping form, watching your calm face and how your skin glowed with a light sheen of sweat. Looking down, Joel’s eyes widened as he realized where his face had been buried. A drool mark darkened the fabric across your chest, and he groaned as the fragrant air tickled his nose. Peppermint and lavender made his mouth water and his cock stir to life. 

Joel suddenly became very aware of how close he was to you. Your legs framed his hips, one hand loosely grasping the curls on the back of his head and the other laid upon his shoulder. He could feel the twitching in his pants responding to the feeling of your heated core against him, the wet fabric staining his jeans. It took everything in him to keep himself from grinding up against you. 

Joel imagined the gasp he would pull from your mouth as the seam of his jeans brushed against your throbbing clit. He imagined the way your eyes would blink open, squinting from the sun for a moment before zeroing in on him. He imagined grinding down against you once more, just to hear you moan, before capturing your soft lips. He - Fuck. 

Hips jerking back, Joel broke himself from the fantasies that were making his dick throb and leak into his jeans. He needed to get it together before he worked himself into a rut, your fever already clawing into the base of his being and drawing out his most primal instincts. 

As easily as he could, Joel extradited himself from your embrace. Stopping only momentarily to cover your sleeping body in a blanket, he moved forward and kissed your forehead. He gasped softly as he pulled away, an unfamiliar feeling wrapping around his heart but he shook it off, trying to push it as far from his mind as he could as he stood up.  

Quietly as he could, Joel had cleared the corpse and any proof that it had ever existed away from the cabin. He had worked diligently, almost growling at the memory as he covered the floor in harsh chemicals to pull the scent of your attacker from the wood grain. The contractor in him was shouting at him not to pour the scented cleaner over the finished wood but he ignored it. 

After finishing, he debated on what to do next. He stood over the couch for a moment, watching you sleep as he weighed his options. On one hand, he could crawl back over you and nuzzle himself into your sleeping form. He was sure that you would welcome him. On the other, a creeping sense of danger was making bile rise in his throat. He needed to keep you safe. 

Joel had left you, his need to keep you safe overwhelming the confusing emotions that you were eliciting from him. Taking into the surrounding trees, he moved quickly, setting up new traps and fencing around the cabin. He prayed that you wouldn’t go wandering off anytime soon, dreading having to unravel you from chicken wire.

With his hand throbbing and sweat covering his body, Joel knew it was time to go back. Turning back, he tried to go through every scenario in his head. You would be awake, it was too late in the morning for you to be still asleep. The thought of facing you made him attempt to slow his pace, but his nerves ensured that he reached the steps in record time. Joel stood at the front door for a moment, trying to steel himself before opening it. He sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose with his good hand momentarily before turning the handle. 

 - You - 

A fire raged in between your legs, tears flowing down your flushed face as your rutted against Joel’s towel. Leaning forward, you buried your face into the fabric surrounding you, huffing at the smell of him. Your hips worked frantically, whining as the rough fabric scratched at your swollen nub. Heat gathered at your center, pulling everything tight before a weak pulse of pleasure inched its way out of your glistening folds. 

Slick covering your thighs, you cried out in frustration. The smell of the absent alpha surrounded you, driving you into a frenzy. The towel that you rubbed yourself against was a poor excuse for the man who plagued your mind. The heat returned immediately, the pain making you grasp at the walls of your makeshift nest and whimper. 

“Jooooel,” you sobbed, a fresh wave of tears accompanying the slick pouring from in between your legs. 

“Christ darling.”

You gasped, scrambling to turn and face the gravelly voice. Flipping around, you moaned at the sight of him. 

Joel’s cheeks were bright red, sweat made his t-shirt cling to his chest, and his hands were clenched at his sides. You watched as he gulped, his gaze finding yours momentarily before raking down your naked body. You should be embarrassed, but as you watched how his eyes turned black as he watched your breasts heave from exertion and how he licked his lips at the drops of slick rolling down your thighs, you felt a boost of confidence surge through you. The way he looked at you made you feel wanted, sexy even, something you had never felt before. 

“Joel, please,” you called to him softly, a coy smile gracing your lips as you crawled towards the edge of the bed to meet him. 

You rose and placed your hands against his chest, leaning into him. Joel stood there motionless as he chewed on the inside of his cheek, clearly warring with himself as you wrapped your arms around his neck. With you scratching at the nape of it, he closed his eyes momentarily and let out a low moan. Hands twitching at his sides, he sighed before snapping them back open. Joel’s gaze was pleading as your face inched towards his. You stopped inches away from his lips, doubt creeping up through the tension that crackled in the stifling air. The doubt didn’t last long as Joel surprised you by surging forward. 

A soft noise came from you as Joel crashed his lips against yours in a soft yet determined kiss. His hands came up, one cradling the back of your neck and the other yanking your hips against his. You moaned into Joel’s mouth and he took the opportunity to tease your tongue with his own. Burning desire made your thighs shake as you clawed at the hem of his shirt. 

Breaking away momentarily, Joel ripped his shirt off before picking you up off of the bed. You yelped, giggling before your eyes rolled into the back of your head. A pathetic whimper crawled out of your throat as Joel began to mouth at your neck, the hardness of his length pressing against your bare core as he carried you over to the dresser. Placing you on top of it, Joel broke away again. 

Whining, you tried to capture his lips again but he pulled you back with the grip he had on the back of your neck.

“I need you to tell me that you want this baby, I need you to tell me now. ‘Cuz once I start,” Joel groaned, leaning forward to whisper in your ear, “I don’t think I’ll be able to stop.” 

Your thighs clamped against his hips, bucking up to grind yourself against the harsh denim. Eyes rolling back, your nails dug into Joel’s shoulders as he sucked angry marks into your sensitive skin. You tried to muster up a coherent response but all that came out of your mouth was something between a wail and a shout. 

Joel chuckled darkly, moving his head back to hold your face in one of his large palms. With his breath fanning over you and scarred chest on full display, you whined as his other hand moved down the length of your shuddering form. You carded your fingers through the smattering of hair on his chest, absentmindedly tracing over a random scar that formed an angry line as he rubbed soothing circles into your hips and thighs. He caught your hand with his own, making you meet his piercing gaze. A shudder ran down your spine from the way he looked at you. The name for that look rattled around your brain as Joel pulled your hand up to his mouth and kissed the back of it gently. You gasped as you watched him place it over his thundering heart. 

“Tell me darling, please. I can’t - you need to tell me that you want me. Please, I need to know that I can have ya,” Joel begged, the desperation in his voice making you dizzy. 

Gripping the back of his neck, you pulled him closer and kissed him hard. A soft hum came from him, his lips moving in tandem with yours as you tried to meld your bodies together. Ankles locking behind his back, you dug your heels into him to pull his hips into your own. This kiss was different, longing rolled off of the both of you like waves and crashed together as hands and mouths explored one another. 

You leaned back to catch your breath, watching as the string of spit that connected you stretched and broke. Eyes meeting once more, you suddenly couldn’t wait any longer. You needed him. You’ve needed him since the first day you met him. Hell, maybe you had always needed him, but that was too much to think about right now. Not as your abdomen cramped and a heat like no other screamed at you to rip open the rough denim that pushed against you. 

“Please alpha, I need you to fill me up. Make me yours Joel, please, please, please,” you cried as your shaky hands tried and failed to unbutton his jeans. 

Joel let out a feral moan before he launched himself towards you. Desperate now, Joel kissed you passionately, his teeth clacking against yours as he devoured you. He nibbled on your bottom lip before delving his tongue in to taste you, making your head spin and body ache with desire. Sucking on your tongue, Joel reached up to cup one of your breasts in his hand. He pinched your nipple between his fingers, rolling the nub and hardening it. 

Panting, you broke away to whine, “Please Joel.” 

He hummed, leaning forward to kiss your neck once more before trailing his lips down your body. His mustache prickled your skin, leaving goosebumps in his wake as he moved to wrap his lips around the opposite nipple. You cried out and flung your hands up to pull at his locks, eliciting a devastating moan from him. His other hand came up to play with your other breast as he sucked and bit at your now reddened nub. Joel kept up his attention on your breasts for what felt like ages as you begged. He laughed softly as you thrashed below him, letting up only to switch sides. Tears had begun to fall from your eyes, your frustration making you wiggle so much that the dresser knocked into the wall behind you. Joel chuckled again before pulling back to look at you properly. 

“You’re some squirrelly today darling,” he drawled, playing with the curls that covered your mound as you arched into him, “Something on your mind?” 

You whined and bucked, a frustrated noise leaving your lips as you playfully smacked his shoulder. Joel chuckled darkly, kissing your cheek sweetly before picking you up once more and tossing you on the bed. You flopped against it ungracefully, sitting up only to be knocked over as he grabbed you by the ankles and pulled you to the edge of the bed. Shivering as Joel stood over you, his eyes feasted on your vulnerable state. You gulped, beginning to feel self conscious at his primal gaze. 

“So fucking beautiful baby,” Joel breathed, moving to hover over you before leaning down and trailing his lips across your heated skin. 

He kissed over the scars and stretch marks, admiring the patch of hair above your seam for a moment before he pressed his nose into the curls and breathed in, moaning loudly as he rested his cheek against your thigh. Whining again, you begged him to crawl back up your body but he stayed put. Instead, you felt him pry your damp legs apart. 

“W-what are you doing?,” you asked through a gasping breath, hands clutching the sheets below you. 

“M’gonna make you feel good darling, get you all nice and ready for me,” he said softly before he leaned forward and licked a long stripe up your seam. 

A garbled, “Joel!,” left your mouth as he shoved his face into your core. 

Stubble chafing the inside of your thighs, you writhed on the bed as Joel’s long strokes had you pulsating. Feeling you grow impatient, he switched to calculated flicks, making your clit jump and a garbled moan bounce off the walls. Your mind was completely blank, the only coherent thought that you had was Joel, Joel, Joel, Joel… 

He was ravenous, sucking on your throbbing nub before moving down to shove his tongue into your core. You felt him crook his tongue inside of you, lapping up the slick that poured out of you. Hands flying to his hair, you shouted his name as he moved up again to suck at your clit, his fingers moving to breach your entrance. 

“J-Joel - AH! Oh my god, please Joel. I - fuuuuck,” you wailed as he slid one, then two fingers inside of you.

You had never been so full in your entire life. You had never been filled, period. Always nervous to try, warnings about purity haunting you even during the heights of your heats, you had satisfied yourself by grinding against whatever pillow or blanket you could find. Now, with two of Joel’s thick fingers pumping inside of your hole, and his mouth sucking and flicking at your clit, you felt a blinding pressure building embarrassingly fast. 

Nervous of the intense feeling building inside of you, you tried to scooch your hips back on the bed but Joel’s free arm clamped down over your mid section. Now, with his forearm pressing against your abdomen and his relentless pace doing wonders on your aching core, you had no choice but to feel the entirety of the pleasure that Joel was ripping from you. 

“C’mon baby, make that pussy cry for me, I know you can. You want to be a good girl for me, right sweetheart?,” Joel asked sweetly, his words making your head spin as his fingers picked up their pace inside of you. 

“Fuuuck yes, I wanna be good. I’ll be so good for you Joel. Please, please, please,” you sobbed, hips twitching with the pressure building inside of you, begging to be released. 

Joel’s fingers hooked against your walls, the calloused pads of his fingertips rubbing over a devastating spot inside of you that had you practically convulsing on the bed. Your heart rate sped up, blood pumping in your ears so loud that you could barely hear his response. 

“Good girl, now cum for me darling,” Joel said sternly, the tone of his voice making something inside of you melt as he lowered his mouth back down and sucked your clit hard. 

You wailed, hands pushing Joel’s skull into your center and heels digging into his back as you trembled. You barreled towards the precipice, letting yourself be overcome by Joel as you gushed around his digits. Babbling nonsense at him, you gasped and squeezed his fingers. Pleasure rocked through you, fraying all of the nerve endings in your body as Joel fucked you through it. His pace never faltering, he kept his mouth and fingers going even after the last contraction had weakly clutched him. Suddenly feeling the overstimulation, you whined and pushed at his head, trying to wiggle out from under his strong hold. 

“Quit it, I ain’t done,” Joel growled, his voice muffled as he spoke into your folds. 

The switch in Joel’s demeanor had your head spinning. He had always been so gentle with you, a true southern gentleman. Now, with his fingers pistoning roughly inside of your core, the wet sound of his hand smacking against your center echoing throughout the room, his presence was menacing. It only made you want him more. 

Any protest that you had soon vanished from your mind as Joel doubled down on his efforts. He sucked your poor clit in between his lips again, batting it with his tongue as he slid a third finger into you. You yelped at the sudden fullness, lungs fighting for air as your second orgasm barreled towards you. Black dots filled your vision as you tore at his scalp, worrying for a moment about hurting him before a feral noise sent vibrations through your pussy. 

“Fuuuck, Joooooel. Oh my - I fucking lo - oh my goood,” you moaned. 

Joel hummed, the vibrations of it buzzing against your clit and sending you flying off the deep end. You gasped, throwing your head back as your core locked his fingers in place, squeezing them almost painfully as ecstasy had you twisting in his grasp. You could hear him groan as more slick soaked his face, Joel slurping it up and prolonging the blinding pleasure that had you mumbling nonsense. 

Finally slowing, Joel carefully pulled his fingers from your core as you hissed. Bringing them up to his face, your eyes followed his movements as he separated them to watch the strings of arousal gleam in the daylight. His eyes met yours, a smirk forming on his face before he sucked his glistening fingers into his mouth. You gasped at the sight, having never seen anything like it. Moaning at the taste, Joel’s eyes raked over you as you laid panting and naked in front him. 

Weakly, you reached a hand out to him and he took it in his larger one, kissing the back of it sweetly before crawling up your body. With his lips kissing up your sternum, the heat was back now despite your two previous releases. Your hips bucked into him as he ran his teeth across the sensitive skin below your ear. Joel moaned at the friction, grinding his hips down into yours as he teased your gland. You wordlessly willed him to bite down, to seal the claim he already had over you, but he refrained. 

“Never thought I’d have ya like this darling. So sweet, so smart, so soft, and all fucking mine,” he mumbled, bruising your neck with his teeth. 

“Y-your, m’yours Joel. Please, I’ve never had someone like this. I-I-I need you, please, I need you to fuck me,” you begged, finally managing to shove his pants down his hips and gasping as his hard cock sprung from its confines. 

As you reached to grab it, Joel grabbed your hand and your eyes flicked up to meet his own. You whined, wanting to feel the warm length that pulsed against your slicked thigh. You were not an expert by any means, but you knew Joel was fucking huge and it made your mouth water. Pretty and thick, with veins running down the sides, a trimmed patch of curly hair gathering at the base, and a glob of precum pearling at his reddened tip, you needed to touch him. You fought against Joel’s hold on your hand but he demanded your attention. 

Joel’s chest heaved and you could tell he was fighting against his own instincts by stopping, but he pushed through, gripping your face and looking deep into your eyes. You stared back at him in confusion, frustrated as you wondered what the hold up was.

“Darling is this - have you never, uh… What do you mean you ain’t never had someone like this?,” Joel asked through panting breaths, the hair on his chest brushing up against your sensitive nipples. 

“Because I haven’t. I was with everyone at camp and then I was on the run, now m’here. Never wanted anyone before, never needed anybody before you,” you whispered, suddenly feeling shy as his eyes widened at your admission. 

“Shit,” Joel swore, blanching as he rolled off of you. 

“W-what?,” you croaked, eyes watering as he distanced himself from you again. 

You hauled yourself up and slid into his lap, chasing him without even thinking about it. Joel cursed, his bare cock now seated in between your folds as he tried to keep your hips from moving against his painfully hard cock. You whined, weakly shifting to try and spark some sort of friction between you as he hissed through his teeth. 

“Darling, f-fuck, I wouldn’t of done it like that if - oh sweet Jesus,” Joel groaned as you managed to rip one of his trembling hands off of your hips. 

Determined, you held his hand above his head as you rubbed your soaking seam against him, moaning as your clit caught on the tip of his dick. A fresh wave of slick coated him as you moved, helping you grind into Joel as he bit his bottom lip to keep his moans from spilling out. 

“I need you Joel. M’yours. Fuuuck, and you’re mine. This is all fucking mine, nobody else’s,” you growled, shocking the both of you as a wave of possessiveness washed over you.  

Something clicked in Joel’s brain as the words tumbled from your lips. Finally having enough, Joel flipped you on to your back and loomed over you. Pools of black boring into your soul, your walls fluttered against the emptiness his fingers left behind. As Joel watched your pussy twitch, you could practically hear the gears turning in his head before he came to a decision. 

“If you want me to stop, you tell me. If I’m hurting ya, you fucking tell me. Got it?,” Joel said seriously, making sure that your eyes met as he said it. 

Nodding before he had even stopped talking, you locked your ankles behind his back as he hiked your legs over his hips, bodies unbearably closer now. Joel leaned down, lips ghosting over yours as the need for him to fill you had you squirming against the solid wall of his chest. 

“Say it baby,” he chided gently. 

“Please Joel, I need you,” you whispered as your noses brushed against each other, his honeyed tone making your heart flutter. 

Joel kissed you fiercely and let one hand move down to run his fingers through your slit. He gathered up all the slick he could before he used it to pump himself, spreading your arousal up and down the length of him. He finally broke the intoxicating kiss, panting as he pressed himself against your opening, carefully pushing himself in the first few inches. Sweat began to form at your hairline as your body struggled to accommodate his size. Not only was Joel long but he was thick, your body fought against the intrusion as you winced. Joel grunted, clearly struggling as you squeezed him like a vice. 

“Fuck darling, you gotta - shit - you gotta relax and let me in,” Joel hissed, his brow furrowing as he tried to keep himself still.  

You nodded, moaning as he moved to capture your lips once more. As soft lips moved against yours and tongues mingled, you forgot about the heavy weight of his cock inside of you. With you distracted by his passionate kiss, Joel was able to slide in a few more inches. More slick came to greet him as your hole stretched and your fingernails left angry red lines down his back. Feeling emboldened by your response, Joel pushed through the last bit of resistance, sliding home and nestling himself in the cradle of your hips. 

“Fuck you’re so tight, fucking choking my cock darling. Jesus, little pussy’s so wet,” Joel whined unabashedly in your ear. 

You moaned, not used to Joel being so vocal. It was driving you crazy. His dirty words, mixed with the feeling of him carving out a space for himself inside you, had you nearing your end already. Mind long gone, you keened and tried to fuck yourself on him, pathetic little jolts to your hips making him gasp and groan. 

“Please fuck me Joel. I can take it, I swear. I’ll be good, I’m your good girl, I’m - oh!,” you cried out as Joel threw your legs over his shoulders, moving himself back carefully before thrusting forward again. 

His pace was slow but his thrusts hard, knocking the breath out of you each time. You choked on a whimper as he pressed forward and bumped against something that had a fresh wave of tears streaming down your face. Joel leaned forward, getting impossibly deeper as the curls at the base of his dick tickled your clit. Leaning forward, he kissed the tears on your cheeks, cooing softly as you hiccuped and whined. 

“Aw, my sweet girl, d’you like that? Like my cock stretching you out? Bet you won’t want another after this, ain’t nobody else gonna fuck you like this baby. Christ, do you hear her soaking for me? She’s fucking crying for my cock, isn’t she? Shi-i-t,” Joel growled, his hips picking up the pace slightly. 

You grabbed at his hair, his neck, his shoulders, anything to keep you grounded as you begged him for more. Joel gave you a devilish smile, making you squeak as his hips started slamming into you. Strings of your arousal dripped down Joel’s balls and soaked the hair on his thighs, making the curls glisten as he sucked at your neck again. Joel tore animalistic cries out of you as he pounded into your weeping hole, claiming you with each hard thrust. 

“Pleeease,” you pleaded, not even sure what you were pleading for as you weakly tried to meet his thrusts. 

Joel huffed a laugh through his moans, hips working double time as he felt your pussy begin to flutter around him. 

“What baby? Tell me what you want,” he crooned, moving one hand to brush through the cute patch of hair covering your mound, finding your clit and pressing down on it harshly with his thumb. 

Legs shaking and eyes watering, you locked eyes with Joel before you cried out, “You daddy, I want you!”

Joel’s pace slowed for a second as he took in what you said. Freezing, you wondered if you had crossed some sort of line. You weren’t even sure where that had come from, but it just seemed so right in the moment. An apology on the tip of your tongue, you were surprised by a primal growl rumbling out of Joel, making your already pulverized insides turn to mush as he pulled himself up on his knees. He moved you up on his lap as you helplessly wrapped your weakened arms around his neck once more. 

Faces pressed against one another, panting mouths sharing air and his cock almost unbearably deep, Joel grabbed your hips and began fucking you up and down on him. He speared into you so deep that you screamed, breath catching in your throat as he worked your limp body into a frenzy. Pleas, cries, and the slick sound of him moving inside of you filled the air. All of your senses were overwhelmed with Joel as panting mouths mashed into each other, lips greedily moving in tandem before breaking away again for air. The room spun as his heavy balls slapped against your ass, Joel moving faster and harder as your walls sucked him in. 

You were shocked at his strength. Joel effortlessly moved your body up and down his throbbing cock with one hand clutching your hip, the other moving to strum at your oversensitive clit. You squeaked, unable to do anything but hold on for dear life as he effortlessly dragged you closer and closer to your peak. 

“Say it again baby, whose pussy is this? Who gets to fuck you like this? Fuck, you’re too good for daddy sweet girl. Such a pretty thing, so smart, so strong, smell so fucking good. God - shit - say it please,” Joel moaned as he pressed into your clit harder. 

“Yours! D-daddy, I’m yours. Please, I can’t. Oh my fucking g- daddy please!,” you screamed, walls beginning to squeeze him brutally. 

Joel hissed, keeping up his pace as he kissed at every bit of skin his lips could reach, beginning to ramble as he neared his end. 

“S’right baby, daddy’s pussy, nobody else’s. M’yours too, fuck - anything you want from me is yours, just fucking stay, please fucking stay with me baby. I can’t lose - PLEASE baby, fuck, I need you to stay.” 

The desperation in his voice had you reaching out to grip his neck, bringing him down to meet your lips in a kiss filled promise. As you poured everything you had into the kiss, you felt something nudging at the outside of your hole. You gasped, looking down to see his knot forming and begging to be jammed into you. With your orgasm making your walls start to tighten around his cock, you were suddenly desperate for it. You ground yourself against his knot and Joel moaned as it began to tease your entrance. 

“F-fuck, you don’t have t- ah, oh shit,” Joel stuttered, his resolve breaking as your walls twitched against the base of it. 

“Knot me alpha. Shit - need you to fill me up so that I can feel you for days. Please daddy,” you begged, shattering any reservation in Joel’s mind. 

A grunt left Joel as he heeded your request, shoving himself forward. You cried out as you felt his thick knot lock the two of you together, pleasure boiling over as his cock began to twitch inside of you. Waves after waves crashed through both of you, walls contracting against his throbbing knot, each slight movement triggering another devastating round of ecstasy. You felt him spurting thick loads of cum inside of you, soothing the need that had been burning inside of you since waking up. Everytime you thought that he was done, a slight movement or twitch from one of you would have Joel crying out as he released again. 

You could feel your belly bloating from the mess he made inside of you. You tried to calm yourself, sensing that Joel was getting overstimulated as he tensed and shook but you couldn’t stop the way your walls clamped around him. Another orgasm had your vision blacking out around the edges, your voice hoarse as you called his name. Joel gasped, holding you close and pressing his face into your chest as his cock painfully released into you again and again and again. 

Finally spent, Joel carefully lowered you onto the bed. Groaning, Joel collapsed on top of you. The weight of his body was warm and comforting, pulling a purring noise from the back of your throat. He hummed, rubbing his face against the valley of your breasts as you began to play with his hair. With the heat satiated at last, you giggled at the feeling of his whiskers tickling your damp skin. Joel’s head popped up, pools of melted chocolate studying the lines on your face as you laughed. 

“What’s so funny baby?,” Joel asked, a grin evident in his voice. 

You settled, letting out a few more giggles before glancing down at his relaxed face, pushing his curls from his forehead as you smiled at him. 

“Nothing daddy, m’just happy,” you said softly. 

Joel barked out a laugh, groaning as the movement had his cock weakly twitching again. He shook his head, kissing his way up from between your breasts. He pressed his lips against yours softly, humming at the intimacy before pulling back and grinning down at you. 

“Daddy huh?,” Joel teased, watching as your cheeks reddened and you whacked his shoulder again. 

“You didn’t seem to mind,” you grumbled, looking away from him to study the wall in embarrassment. 

He laughed again, leaning forward and pressing soft kisses across your chest, neck, and face as you squealed and giggled. Joel kept kissing you until you were out of breath from laughter and pleading for him stop his sweet torture until he finally relented. Panting, you met his eyes once more as he looked at you with a softness that had butterflies erupting in your belly. A giddiness bubbled up to the surface and you bit your lip, suddenly feeling girlish and shy as Joel looked at you like you were the only person in the world. He leaned forward and kissed your forehead, pulling back and clearing the loose strands that stuck to your forehead off of your sweaty face. 

It was then that you noticed the poor excuse for a bandage that was wrapped around his palm, the center of it red with dried blood. You whined, panicking as you brought it up to your face to examine. Joel shushed you, shaking his head before you could get too worked up. 

“S’okay darling, I just sliced it when I was putting up some wire. Nothing to be worried about, I swear. Barely felt it,” he crooned, watching as you leaned forward and kissed the dark stain. 

“Why don’t you let me help next time?,” you asked, letting him go back to fixing your wild strands. 

He chuckled, “You really want to help me with choring that bad? It’s boring stuff. I wouldn’t want you to feel like you HAD to.” 

You whined, huffing impatiently at him as you rolled your eyes, “I’ve been bored Joel. I’m going nuts in here doing nothing all day. I would LOVE to help you with your ‘choring’.”

The last part made him snort as you tried (and failed) to mimic his deep twang. You giggled back at him, bodies brushing up against each other as the feeling of joy radiated off the pair of you. He watched you with a grin, noticing the way your nose scrunched up as you threw your head back in laughter. Joel grunted as your laughter made you clench around him, suddenly remembering that he was inside of you still. 

“I didn’t hurt you, did I? M’sorry if I did. I was trying so hard to stay gentle but fuck baby, you don’t know how hard its been for me to stay away from ya,” Joel asked, his concern cutting through the sweet moment. 

You kissed the hand that fussed over your messy hair, lips touching the bandage once more before you said, “Joel, you didn’t hurt me. That was everything I could have asked for. I’ve never felt so… wanted. Nobody’s ever made me feel like that.” 

Joel tsked, shaking his head and grumbling under his breath about how stupid every alpha in your life had been up until this point, how you were the prettiest damn thing he had ever saw, how he had no fucking clue how he got so lucky. A softer laugh tumbled out of you, breaking him from his reverie and making him smile.  

“Why’d you stay away?,” you asked softly, thumb gliding over the stubble on his cheeks. 

A sigh left Joel’s mouth and he looked down, his knot now deflated enough that he could ease himself out of your puffy folds. You whined, panic popping the bubble of comfort that had cradled you moments before. You were terrified that he was going to get up and leave you there. Trying not to cry, you cursed yourself for ruining the moment. He hushed you as you gripped his forearms, trying to assure you as he pulled away. 

“Shhh, it’s okay baby. I just need to clean you up and get something to fill that belly of yours. You need to eat before the heat comes back. Gotta keep your strength up for when my rut hits, reckon you’re gonna rip it out of me soon. Can already feel it coming,” he said carefully, massaging your sore hips as he inched off of the bed. 

You nodded, sniffling and whimpering as he made his way out of the room. You tried to remember his words as anxiety trickled into your pliant muscles, making you tense. Joel would be back, he would be back, he was just grabbing something to clean you up and some food, it’s okay, he won’t leave you…

A hiss came out of your mouth as you felt something cool and rough between your legs. Joel shushed you, softly cleaning the mess he had made of your core with a washcloth. Tossing it behind him, he lifted you up onto his lap, situating himself so that he was sitting against the headboard. Before you could nestle yourself into the crook of his neck, Joel stopped you. He brought a glass of water from the nightstand, placing it at your lips. You gulped down half of it in one go, surprised at how thirsty you were. 

“All of it baby,” he whispered when you paused, moving to tip the glass into your mouth again but you stopped him. 

Grabbing the glass from him, Joel raised an eyebrow as you placed the glass at his lips. You looked back at him sternly, daring him to defy you as you tipped the water into his mouth. He acquiesced, chugging down the rest of the water and placing the empty glass on the nightstand. Next, he grabbed a granola bar and presented it to you. You grumbled, not feeling particularly hungry but he was persistent as he shoved it at you again. 

“Share it with me?,” you asked softly, playing with his curls. 

Joel nodded, tearing the package open and breaking the nutty biscuit in two, ignoring the crumbly bits that fell onto the mess of sheets and clothes below. The two of you ate in silence, one of his big hands rubbing your thigh while you absentmindedly scratched his scalp. Finally finished, Joel let you lean forward and rest against him, your body straddling him and face shoved into the gland on his neck, snuffling at his musk. 

“Why?,” you asked again, your voice barely above a whisper. 

He tensed and you snuggled deeper into him, trying to cover his body with your own as you smelt his scent slightly sour with nerves. Joel huffed lightly at your knotted hair, trying to calm himself down before he answered you. 

“Darling I… There’s a lot of things you don’t know about me. Things I’ve done, horrible things… Some things I did to people that deserved it, others didn’t… And I’ve failed people that cared about me, too many fucking people. I couldn’t - I can’t fail you too,” Joel murmured against your hair, fingers now clutching your hips and holding you against him firmly. 

You hummed in acknowledgement, playing with his hair as you responded, “You couldn’t fail me Joel, not even if you tried.” 

Joel shook his head, his nerves threatening to break him out of the peace that you had cloaked him in. He pulled back and tried to speak, but you covered his mouth with your hand before he could. 

“Joel, I know you think that you’re no good but you are. You are good. You could’ve left me out there to die, but you didn’t. You helped me and you didn’t even ask for anything in return, a bad man wouldn’t do that. Whatever you had to do in the past to stay alive, I don’t care. I don’t care about any of it,” you said, letting him work through the words for a moment before you continued. 

He moved to protest, gripping your wrist and trying to pull your hand off of his mouth so that he could reject your words but you slapped his hand away. Joel guffawed under your hand, the feeling of it tickling your palm as he furrowed his brows in confusion. 

“I know that you… That losing Sarah must have killed you Joel,” you could feel him growing more uncomfortable but you pressed on, “But that wasn’t your fault. None of it was. And it doesn’t mean that you aren’t good, okay? You’re good Joel. You. Are. Good.” 

Joel watched you silently as you eased your hand off of his mouth, eyes shining as he cleared his throat. He nodded, swallowing thickly before he leaned forward and knocked his forehead against yours, shaky breaths fanning over your face. 

“S’not all darling. I can’t - I don’t know how to tell you… There’s so much more than just Sarah and I don’t know if I can ever - fuck,” he cussed, his eyes falling closed in frustration as words failed him. 

“I know Joel, I know. You’ll tell me when you’re ready. But until then, I’m not going anywhere m’kay? Hell, I’ve got things I haven’t told you yet either but I don’t care, none of that matters. You’re mine and I’m yours now, you’re gonna have to throw me out into the cold if you want me gone now,” you chided. 

Joel chuckled, shaking his head before he said, “I’d never kick ya out baby. Just don’t know why you’d want to be with a grumpy old man like me. M’sure you could find a decent man in Jackson, probably tons of men your age there” 

You shrugged playfully, pretending to think it over, “Hmmmm… well as tempting as that sounds, I think I’ll stick with you. Think I like my men a bit more experienced, no clue why. Daddy issues maybe?” 

“Shut up,” Joel said through a surprised laugh, flipping you over onto the bed and attacking your sides with tickles as you screeched and giggled. 

The heaviness pulled from the air, the two of you smiled at each other. Moving to get up again, Joel groaned when he saw the mess that you had made as the two of you had rolled around playfully on the bed. Sucking in a shaky breath, he watched your pussy begin to drip slick down your thighs once more, hole winking at him enticingly as he swore under his breath. 

“Oh fuck Joel, I’m sorry. I know you probably need a bit of a break, seeing as you’re a senior citizen and all,” you joked breathlessly, his head shooting up at the jab.

A mischievous grin spread across Joel’s face, pearly whites gleaming menacingly at you as his gaze turned ravenous. 

“Oh honey, you’ve got no fucking clue what this old man is capable of,” he chuckled. 

A witty response died in your throat, mind numbing pleasure soon making you scream for the man that had his face buried in your core. 

[arathejedi394]

oh you liked how in my fic for him. bucky didn't fall from the train well what if he did?

His phone buzzes. Steve picks it up and sees a text from Hill, then another one comes in. They’re both phone numbers. The first one is Becca’s and the second is Benny’s. Benny’s name is still Barnes, but Hill’s text has Becca’s last name as Proctor. Steve exhales, then he calls Becca.

It rings for a long time. Steve bites his lip.

“Hello?”

Becca’s voice is rough and cracking with age, but it’s her. Steve exhales heavily.

“It’s Steve,” he says quietly. “Hi.”

There’s silence for a moment.

“What flowers were at your wedding?” Becca asks. 

Steve smiles, bittersweet, but it’s just like Becca to be suspicious. “Red carnations and daisies. Bucky had a daisy in his lapel,” he adds. “Your ma did all youse’s hair with daisies, too. And you and Betty had matching dresses, little cap sleeves and empire waists and a bow in the back, and your ma bought both of you a pair of kitten heels, even though you were only eight, they were yellow with bows, too. Benny had a dress with a big poofy skirt and she kept grousing about it, even though she tried to get me to wear a wedding gown with a poofy skirt. I let Benny pick the color of your dresses, though. She picked pale yellow because she was obsessed with lemons back then. The wedding cake was lemon because of her, lemon and lavender.”

“Steve…” Becca exhales. “Is it really you?”

“Yeah,” Steve whispers, trying to hold back sudden tears. “Becca, Bucky – Before he – Before –”

“What?” Becca asks gently. “What did Bucky do?”

“‘M pregnant,” Steve confesses.

“Oh, my G-d,” Becca whispers. “Oh, my G-d. You’re pregnant?”

“Three months,” Steve then tells her, his voice almost breaking. “I’m about three months in.”

“Did Bucky know?”

Steve lets out a watery sort of laugh. “Yeah,” he says. “Yeah. He – He said I could go on one last mission, the mission to get Zola, then he was gonna tell Colonel Phillips and get me discharged. We didn’t know for sure, but…”

“Oh, Steve,” Becca murmurs. “Where are you, honey?”

“Brooklyn,” Steve whispers. “Bedford-Stuyvesant,” he adds.

“Okay, honey, I’m gonna come pick you up, alright? I got a spare bedroom, you can have it. Bucky wouldn’t want you to be alone. What’s your address?”

Steve bites his lip hard, fighting back tears. But she’s right.

“Alright,” he mumbles, then recites the address for Barton’s apartment building. “I don’t have a lot of things right now,” he says. “I – I, uh, I’m trying to get the Smithsonian to give back all our stuff…”

“I heard your collar got taken out of the exhibit,” Becca says. “You have it?”

“Yeah,” Steve answers. “I had to get a new key fitted for the lock. Buck–”

He can’t say it. Bucky had had the key on the chain that held Steve’s dog tags. It had fallen with him, to be forever entombed in stone and ice.

“It’s okay, honey,” Becca tells him. “I won’t be long, just an hour. Have you got a nest set up yet?”

“No,” Steve admits softly. “I – I want –” His voice cracks and he swallows. “I want my nesting stuff. It’s all in the Smithsonian. They’re saying it all belonged to some Omega I collared.”

“I’ll sic my grandkids on ‘em,” Becca says. “What have you eaten today?”

Steve groans and drops his head back against the wall. “Protein bars,” he mutters.

“Anything else?”

“No.”

“Bucky’s gonna come back from the grave and take a double-folded belt to your ass if you don’t start taking better care of his property,” Becca offers kindly.

Steve laughs a little again, then wipes tears from his eyes. “You’re right.”

“What have you got other than protein bars?” Becca asks.

“Protein shakes,” Steve sighs.

“Oh, boy, Bucky’s rolling in his grave.”

Steve almost laughs. He squeezes his eyes shut and takes a shaking breath.

“If you need to cry, you should,” Becca says. “It’s good for you.”

“Call me when you get here,” Steve murmurs. “I have to pack.”

“Alright. Just an hour, big brother.”