Chapter Text
Cries echoed down the hallway. Vader grit his teeth and refocused on the datapad in front of him.
If Luke wanted attention during his heat, then he should not have abused heat suppressants.
Nasty things, heat suppressants. They interfered with an omega’s scent, their instincts, their heats…everything. They were insidious, and built up in the blood with each use. The medic, after an examination, said that it looked like Luke had been using them for over a year without a break.
Vader had been furious. How dare his child harm himself in this way?! The requirements of war were one thing - a year’s nonstop use of suppressants was another. That was self-destruction.
He couldn’t let such a thing go unpunished.
The boy’s remaining suppressants had been disposed of, of course. As soon as Luke had been captured and the suppressants found in his pockets, Vader flung them away. The bottle had burst open upon impact with the wall and the little pills scattered, much to Luke’s dismay. The joy Vader felt at finally, finally reuniting with his son had been nearly swept away by fear and anger at the sight of those pills. Not even the boy’s protestations that he was a Rebel and a Jedi compared. Foolish ideals were rarely physically harmful.
Luke had to learn that. He could not destroy himself.
The medics had flushed Luke’s systems of the suppressant, and heat began to set in not long after.
“How do you want me to punish you?” Vader asked when the medics left.
“Leave me alone,” Luke snarled. Sweat beaded on his forehead. His hands were fisted in the blankets Vader had given him to nest in - blankets the boy had initially refused. He was pleased to see Luke’s acceptance of them now.
It was not a genuine answer, but it was close enough. “Very well.” Vader swept out of the room.
That was hours ago.
“Alphaaaaa!” The distance between their rooms was not enough to muffle the broken sobs that followed, nor the desperate, pitiful keens and whines. “Alpha!”
The boy’s desperation bled through their bond, igniting Vader’s own blood. Vader carefully sealed it off, silencing him.
You chose this, young one. You wanted independence—this is what it brings. Isolation.
“Please!”
It must have been driving his son mad, to smell Vader’s scent all over his room—scent that had been carefully placed there before Luke’s arrival to make him feel more comfortable in the new environment—and yet be alone. Vader’s mouth watered at the thought of the extra slick dripping down Luke’s thighs, the omegaen body’s attempt to tempt an alpha to tend to them.
Vader tapped onto the next document on his datapad. Ship deployment decisions wouldn’t make themselves, after all.
.
.
.
Heat boiled Luke alive. He felt trapped in the confines of his skin, like a balloon full of boiling water, and yet unaware of where he ended and the blankets began. Pressure squeezed his head like a vice. Lightning crackled through his insides and shot down his legs every so often, unpredictable. Sweat, tears, and oceans of slick left him drowning.
“Alpha!” He had no idea how he was still capable of speech. The words came out of his mouth, but they felt like a recording, made by someone else. He couldn’t even see. The world was a confusing blur of light and shadow.
Need swallowed every other thought. He was so empty.
“Alphaaaaaa!” His voice broke on a sob. He smashed his face into the blankets and sobbed, his entire body shaking.
Need for what? If there was food or water in this…wherever he was, he couldn’t reach it. His legs refused to support him. These blankets, though, they were soaked in the smell of nutmeg and sandalwood. Alpha. An alpha would make it all better. Make the pain go away. Help clean him up. That was all his exhausted, strung-out brain knew.
Another glob of slick oozed out between his legs and Luke sobbed again. He was so wet.
Seized by a sudden need to be free, he tore his pants and undergarments off with clumsy fingers, then his shirt. He threw them out of his nest, not caring where they landed.
Exhausted by this flurry of movement, he lay on his back, staring up at the ceiling. Gray. Empty.
Empty…
“Alphaaaaa…” he moaned, turning his face into the blankets and snuffling pitifully. The scent was so strong. Fresh. Where was his alpha? He must have one. He was in their nest. He didn’t understand why he was all alone…
He gathered the blankets in his hand and pressed them against his body, both to soak up the slick and as a source of warmth. The air left a slight chill on his bare skin. He pulled the blankets partially over himself, leaving one leg and arm hanging out, and draped the top edge over his mouth and nose. He breathed in the comforting scent of alpha in long inhales, slow exhales.
His hips began to twitch, then to buck up into the blankets. He fisted the material in one hand and pressed it against his dripping slit. Every brush of fabric against his clit sent sparks of pleasure flying through his brain. He moaned. Pressed the fabric against himself harder, seeking that delicious feeling.
His breath hitched when he found it. The motion of his hand sped up, wrist cramping, until he was crying out and adding another river of slick to the nest.
“Alpha,” Luke panted, whined. His skin buzzed with arousal still, unsatiated. He took a deep inhale of the alpha’s scent from the blankets, but his own sweet, fecund scent was beginning to overpower it. He sobbed.
“Alpha!”
Strength seemed to leave him. His fists loosened. His hips bucked, but weaker, now. He tried to call out again, but all that left him was a whine, an exhalation of air.
Alpha.
Just the thought of being touched, being held, by the strong alpha that left their scent all over this nest sent another dribble of slick leaking out of Luke. His pussy fluttered around nothing, desperate.
He curled in on himself and sobbed. The heat within him raged on.
.
.
.
Vader checked his chrono. The boy had gone silent an hour ago. He had no intention to send his child into omega-drop sickness, which set in when an omega felt rejected.
He stood and stretched, surprised to be sore from sitting so long. It was high time he tended to his son.
If Luke hadn’t learned his lesson by now, then there was always the next heat.
And the next.
And the next.
Vader opened the door to his son’s chambers, and went in.