bastard racoon

Trinity hates her rut. Hates it. Any single slip of her very fragile control and she's off kilter for days. It doesn't help that they're unpredictable and spurred on by the most humiliating scenarios every time. She could be at work, at the corner store, the bookshop, a farmer's market, and all of a sudden she's going bright red and ducking out with something held inconspicuously right over her crotch.

This time she happens to be in the middle of the goddamned woods.

In the great state of Pennsylvania there was, for two months, a patient satisfaction index competition between the public healthcare practices, hosted by the PA Department of Health. The winning shift at the winning hospital would be covered by traveling nurses and residents for four sweet sweet days out in the Allegheny National Forest.

The PTMC had lost miserably, at least the day shift had.

But for whatever reason, Baran Al-Hashimi was adamant they deserved something in return, the competition really had made general improvements to areas of their care, she reasoned.

So she called in a favor. Or many favors. The woman was a Kryptonian level threat when she wanted something done.

And thus, a slew of half the exhausted healthcare workers in the ED packed into two hospital owned vans (the favors must've extended to Gloria as well), and took off down the highway.

The hike itself to the camping spot Dr. Al-Hashimi had meticulously picked out was surprisingly pleasant. A peaceful breeze rustling the boughs of vermillion colored autumn trees, enough clouds left to offer sporadic shade, but not enough to fear a storm. Becca had trailed along with Mel, and it was clear they were lucky to have her. She knew the names of at least ninety percent of the strange bushes and various forms of poison ivy they walked past and made for a decent attending, barking firm orders at Emma when she nearly reached to touch one.

Dennis didn't bother to make sad ancient decrepit dog eyes at Trinity when she put her earbuds in halfway through, they walked in silence, side-by-side. She blamed the tingling in her lower gut on the leftover Panda Express she had housed at seven in the morning because Dennis finished the cereal. Trinity miraculously had yet to throw her head back and groan, remembering something essential she had left behind. So it was all going well.

Dinner posed many threats in one cardigan wrapped attending physician.

A cluster of tents were nestled at the bases of trees, each of them facing inwards at the campsite firepits. (Three, one failed with dirt kicked over it, two meager fires that reminded the group they were, in fact, not frontiersman.)

The sun had set, casting dull blue and indigos through the canopy, the birds settled in an insistent cacophony producing flock overhead.

Wrapped in a grey hoodie with the name of her gym across the chest, black joggers and sneakers, desperately trying not to find her coworkers similarly dressed in casual fashion deeply odd, was Trinity. Pale hands curled around a skewer with a marshmallow she would inevitably trade with Dennis for his much better one.

Dennis and she had already wolfed down the classic camp night hotdogs, and paced themselves by moving to s'mores before the camp ran out of food on night one.

And as casually as Baran could attempt to be, she dropped into the lawn chair directly next to Trinity. Thick quilt over her lap, thin reading glasses perched on her nose, those deceitful doe eyes locked onto the flames a foot or two away.

"I'm glad you came, Trinity." Her first name rolled off that velvet tongue like a scripture.

"I-- Dennis made me." Not completely true, but how was Baran to know? Dennis actually harbored a quite healthy fear of bears and had to be cajoled into joining Trinity with promises of fresh produce upon their return.

"Funny. He said the same thing." Baran's lips softened, curling at the corners. Trinity knew she was staring, but the other woman's gaze was still infuriatingly surveying the fire. "I'm glad you were feeling up to it."

Pause.

"I'm... huh?"

Baran pursed those lips tightly once more, eyebrows furrowing and impossibly wide doe eyes widening even more. She cleared her throat and pivoted.

"Kaveh asks about you. It was very sweet of you to attend his recital."

Trinity's cheeks flared with scarlet that was certainly not hidden by the flickering fire light.

"Yeah, well. He's super talented, I wish I had done ballet. I'd be jacked by now." She picked at her fingernail, goosebumps prickling up the back of her neck from a sudden sharp breeze.

"I'm sure you're stronger than my ten year old son."

"Nine and a half, you can't fool me. I remember how he's picky about that, Ba-- erm. Dr. Al."

Baran took her eyes off the fire, snapping back to Trinity's reddening face. She smiled with a huff of laughter disguised in an exhale. Trinity didn't even realize she was grinning at the reaction she earned until her cheeks were aching.

"Ballet or not, you're in great shape. Besides, you mentioned gymnastics, didn't you? I heard something about a scholarship into collegiate Division I through an intensely impressed son of mine."

Despite herself, Trinity froze. The warmth of the fire could not thaw the icy, impenetrable jade of her eyes now. Baran frowned and rushed to ammend--

"Or-- sorry. Am I incorrect?" Great save, Baran. One of your best. She could've rolled her eyes at herself.

Trinity was wringing her hands in her lap, seemingly unaware she was doing so. Her thumbnail kept pressing angry half-moons into her other hand. Baran grit her teeth and forced her own hands to still from where they so deeply desired to reach out and cease the motion.

"Nah, I did. I forgot I even told him that." She shook her head with a weak impersonation of her usual laugh, the glitter gone from those devastating eyes.

"Ten year olds have a way of pulling information from you. Kav especially." Baran watched intently, not unlike a cat curled up next to the fish tank with its pupils fully expanded.

"Kav especially." She agreed.

One hand raised and scratched idly at the lovely curve of the younger woman's jaw. Dropped back into her lap, repeating that same digging with her thumb until Baran caught a tiny bead of crimson.

Her hands shot out before she could stop them, closing over the other woman's firmly in Trinity's lap, leaning over the arm of her own chair to reach.

"Trinity, you can tell me if I've said something to-- to offend you?" She breathed in the sudden silence.

The woman was stock still underneath her grip. Rolled her lower lip under her tongue, stopped breathing all together.

A heavy wave of warring citrus and cedar and some scent unmistakably Trinity assaulted Baran's senses, her hands tightening around the soft ones under hers, eyes involuntarily fluttering slightly.

She'd gotten tastes before. The recital, Trinity in the seat behind her. A bar with her residents and nurses after non-brutal shifts. Clinging to her own fucking son after Trinity had allowed the boy to energetically bestow upon her a bone-crushing hug.

Baran chased it like a pirate chases gold, like an athlete chases a gold medal, like an alcoholic chases an ice-cold beer. Baran memorized the scent, catalogued it, sought it in increasing fervor the longer she went without it. She chased it like it was her purpose.

And here it was, soaking into her, like.... like warmth from a fireplace after you strip off frigid wet clothes in front of it. Baran ached, literally ached throughout her chest cavity, for more.

But Trinity jolted upright, her smooth hands crammed into her hoodie pocket, tugging it lower.

"I have to-- just-- I have to piss. I'll be right back?" The last part tacked on like she didn't quite believe it herself, but shared in some of Baran's hopefulness that it might be true.

It's not the Trinity was a terrible liar as much as it was that Baran was a Stanford graduate and veteran war-zone medic and mother. Also, Trinity was in fact, a terrible liar.

Night breezes began to shift into windy howls, the clamor of wings taking flight as Trinity all but darted off towards the shadows of the trees beyond.

Going for a run seemed dramatic, she didn't want to call attention to herself more than she likely already had.

But God, how could she possibly work off the consuming energy instilled in her by one single hand holding with her straight BOSS?

"I'm so fucked, I'm so fucked." She repeated in a whimper, shaking her head and catching a full glimpse of the tent she was already pitching. There was little left she could do to pretend it wasn't exactly what she knew it was. Her stupid fucking rut.

Her fist found tree bark in one swift CRACK, the pain shooting up her arm through her shoulder, grounding. She shook her hand out. Did it again.

Scrubbed her hands back through her hair, let her chest heave as her mind reeled on what she could possibly do. The others would smell it. Baran would. And they'd know. Baran would know.

This stupid crush, this pathetic infatuation. All it took was a passing praising comment, a brush against the small of her back, a hand pushing a full mug of tea across the break-room counter. She felt predatory. She hated it, she hated herself.

See, this is exactly what's wrong with her. Trinity sometimes believed she was never meant to be an alpha, it was something that ripped her from any form of control she had on a biological level. Trinity was a woman who needed to control to breathe, she filled in lungs with control instead of oxygen.

Heart slamming into her ribcage, she lashed forth with a right hook and a left jab. Her knuckles screamed for it to end, the bark loosened and dropped in chunks, she kept going, harder, faster.

What if she lost her job? What if Baran sat her down in HR because-- because she--

One, two, one, two. Her knuckles were crunching into---

Strong arms caught her from behind, heaving her nearly off her feet as the both of them staggered backwards. Wrestling her arms to her sides, holding tightly, bodies flush against each other.

"I've got you, shh-shh, I've got you. Inhale."

Shaking, tremoring horribly, head dropping backwards against Baran's shoulder, eyes up on the pinprick stars peeking through the canopy. Tried to drag an inhale back to her neglected lungs. Half-successful.

Then she abruptly remembered.

"Off-- Get off! Get off!" She snarled, writhing violently. The arms did not loosen.

"Shhh-- I'm here, it's okay. It's okay, get it out. I'm here babygirl, I've got you. Get it out on me." Tighter still, forcing her movement to limit more and more.

Trinity struggled valiantly. For maybe thirty seconds.

One hand was brushing over her hair, the other clutching her close, wrapped all the way around her torso. The stream of comfort from the woman's lips did not cease or fade until she did.

"Good girl, goood girl, you're all done... You're okay, baby. Talk to me, Trinity."

"I promise you, you want to get off of me now." She sniffed roughly.

"I'm not scared of you, Trinity. Not for a second. I can handle it, let me take this off of your shoulders, honey, I'm right here." Baran's lips were brushing her shoulder as she spoke. Trinity felt the ache in her sweatpants only plead harder for her attention.

They were away from the firelight, shrouded in pale blue moon dappling across their faces through the leaves.

"Baran." She murmured weakly, nearly limp in her arms. A hot salty tear burned her temple as her head tipped back once more.

"I know. I know baby, I know." Trinity's eyes flickered open. Baran was kissing the tear off the side of her face. Her gut violently shuddered, her cock throbbing, her heart pounding. It was so over.

The kisses didn't stop there. Didn't stop at intensely consoling her, at plausible deniability on the basis of her resident losing her mind in the woods, no. Her lips found Trinity's temple over and over, then her hair, then her ear, then her cheek. Planting firm warm kisses like Trinity had never felt.

"You-- you don't understand. You can't do this, Baran." She shook her head, the kisses following her along the way.

"I know you're hurting. I know I can be here for you. I'll let you go if that's what you want, but--" Trinity groaned, a sharp vehement noise. She should run. Should cover herself with her hands and sheepishly tuck her tail between her legs on the way to HR. Baran was so warm, so soft and full and lovely smelling and tightly wrapped around her as if there was nowhere else she would ever want to be.

"My poor baby. Lean on me, that's better, huh?" Baran's hand caressed circles into Trinity's trembling stomach.

"Baran. I'm in my rut." She choked out at long last, heart steeling for the horrid absence she was sure to soon feel.

But she felt Baran nodding against her shoulder, pressing her lips into the fabric of the hoodie over it. Still warm, still tightly tucked into her back.

"Fuck-- Listen to me! I'm fucking--" "I know, Trinity, baby. Shhhh-shhh, it's okay honey. Just breathe with me."

And so she did.

Their chests rose and fell together. Rose and fell. Trinity hiccuped. The adrenaline sunk lower and faded just enough for her to feel the searing pain in her knuckles. She flexed her hands over and over with a grimace, caught in Baran's hold.

"Honey. Will you let me in?" Whispered into her ear.

She nodded hard, words evading her.

Baran slipped off of her, slowly and tentatively, hands never leaving her as she rounded to face her. Took those hurt hands in hers, kissed the skin where it was red but unbroken, ghosted her lips tenderly over the cuts.

Brought a hand up and cupped Trinity's full cheeks with an impossibly affectionate, wanting expression. Tipped into her before she could stop herself, pulled into Trinity's orbit by some force stronger than gravity.

They kissed long enough for Trinity's lips to become salty from the tears. Baran was endlessly proud that Trinity had managed to cry, to let go if only for a moment.

She drew back. Eyes opening, locked onto the younger woman's.

"Does it hurt, baby?" She breathed.

Trinity assumed she meant the knuckles. She nodded with a pathetic whimper.

Baran let her knees hit the leaves and forest floor beneath her, pure adoration clouding her judgement.

"Wh-- Baran." Nothing more uttered from her, breaths coming hard and fast again.

Baran soothed her hands over the alpha's thighs. "Breathe. Breathe, Trinity. It's just me baby." Just her. As if Baran could be 'just' Baran.

"I don't have to do anything but hold you, honey. I just want to help you, eshgham." The pet names had the intended effect as she knew they would.

Trinity fumbled with the tie at her sweatpants and let Baran hungrily help tear them down just enough. Clean black boxers hid Baran's pirate gold from her. She hesitated with gentle fingers on the elastic waistband. Looked up at Trinity and tried to pretend like her mouth wasn't watering enough to flood.

Trinity jerked her head, hands stroking over Baran's curls with such nervous tenderness. She was terrified of breaking the older woman, Baran could tell. She'd take it slow. Or she would at least try very very hard.

She groaned at the sight of it. Thick and ever so proud, twitching if she so much as let her breath grace its slightly curved length.

Baran desired to let her throat close around it and gag, she wanted to pump along the throbbing base until it needily pumped her mouth full of hot, perfect--

"Please." She whispered up to Trinity, cursing herself. Slow, Baran, slow down for the poor girl.

Her lips pillowed against the head, kissing the leaking tip, fighting the urge to suck rest of the precum out of it. She braced her hands on Trinity's thigh as the woman leaned back into the tree and titled her head. Holding herself so stiffly... Baran would take care of it. Of her.

"My poor, poor baby. You want me to help you?" She was really asking, despite the tone of her words. Trinity caught it.

"Mm... uh-huh..." She moaned dumbly. Desperation had never looked so good.

Baran took the head into her mouth and lathered her tongue around it, her right hand catching the base of the cock and trailing up and down, only lightly.

She pulled back, appraised the twitching thing, took pity on it, and spit.

Straight onto the length. Eyes flickering back up to Trinity, lips parted with sharp little ragged breathing. Her hand working tighter, slicking the saliva up and down. Up and down. Up. And down.

Baran's tongue darted out and flicked at the head to taste it again. She couldn't help it. She took three inches in one swallow, tongue swirling the little length, hand pumping along the rest.

Trinity shuddered and groaned and twitched and maybe what she was saying was incoherent or maybe it was in a different language. Her hands fisted Baran's curls and she let go.

Trinity gave herself over to Baran. Tugged the woman deeper onto her. Moaned at the almost gag as five thick inches neared the back of her throat.

More. More. More.

Baran. Baran. Baran.

The woman's head began to bob, she attacked her task with growing fervor. Throat constricting as she inhaled and pushed herself all the way onto it, nose nudging up into Trinity's unruly trimmed curls.

She could feel it down her throat, pulsing Trinity's heartbeat next to hers, the head pressuring next to her jugular.

Her gag reflex kicked in hard and she choked around it, eyes dripping exertion onto her cheeks as she tried to remember.

Breathe through your nose. Relax. Tongue.

Trinity was fucking her mouth before she could take the reigns once more. The poor woman really couldn't help herself. It was incredibly endearing how those little hungry whimpers slipped out of those pouty pink lips with each ruthless thrust.

The sounds of Baran getting skull-fucked were obscene, the involuntary gags, the saliva pooling and dripping onto her cardigan and the leaves, their breath mimicking each others in that both were little more than rasps of air when they could manage.

Trinity's hips stuttered, her fists tightened, her head threw back.

Baran reached around and gripped Trinity's ass to leverage her sore throat all the way one last time. Heat pulsed down her throat as Trinity came with a final whimper. Ropes of salty, heady, tasty cum.

By the time Baran pulled away she was coughing and creamy white flecked her lips and dripped down her chin. She swallowed as much as she could, licking her lips and going back for seconds almost immediately. Cleaning her new favorite toy with her lips and tongue.

Trinity's legs gave out and she sank hard down in front of Baran, chest heaving, eyes still half-rolled back into her head.

Baran greedily climbed into her lap.

Starving kisses all over her face, letting Trinity taste herself and dipping her tongue into the woman's mouth. Smiling because she won Trinity. Beaming, actually.

Letting the formerly neglected alpha get used to her weight in her lap. Letting Trinity shift her pants back up. Letting Trinity bury her face in Baran's chest and wrap her arms around her and breathe through it.

"I'm serious about this." She murmured after minutes passed in cooling silence in each other's arms.

"I want you, Trinity. More than this rut. Is that... Does that make you uncomfortable?" Baran got intense when she wanted something. She made it fucking happen.

But she only wanted this if Trinity wanted her. Trinity was special.

She told her that.

Trinity's eyes glittered, welled. "Really?" croaked she.

Baran nodded, taking Trinity's chin in her fingers, staring deeply into those watercolor depths, losing herself in them as she'd wanted to since day one. Day one.

"I'm yours."

"Nobody else. No one but me. You belong to me. Trinity, you're mine." She insisted lowly, gaze hardening. The other woman didn't spook at her fierce proclamation, her demand.

She drowned herself in Baran's all encompassing heat, snuggling closer with a clingy nod.

So they hadn’t spoken about it. So what?

Trinity was used to casual, she was used to cold shoulder and regret and “we just got caught up in the heat of the moment.”

Just because Dr. Al-Hashimi took Trinity to a motel and rode her for hours, just because the lamplight painted her skin golden as she chased her pleasure atop Trinity, it didn’t mean that Trinity was entitled to lock the woman into monogamy.

She hated her ruts. She hated them because they lost her Baran.

The woman could barely look at her in the trauma bay, could only every so often drag her tired eyes up to meet Trinity’s over some half-living carcass laid between them.

And so what Trinity lost her mind over it? She knew who she was, and she could’ve predicted from the moment Baran kissed her torn knuckles in the forest that it was the end of her sanity. To rid herself of the memory gracing across her knuckles, Trinity put her fist through the wall on a drunken Friday night. 

Trinity bet she looked like her father when she did that. She understood him far better now, that sick bitter old man.

Dennis stayed at Robby’s every night since the night Trinity had poured herself a glass of wine after another hellish shift and then sent the thing straight into the wall. Dennis took one look at the red wine bleeding down the drywall, the glass shards littering the scuffed hardwood floor, Trinity’s heaving chest and shaking hands and left. He said some things, sure, tried to console her too. Tried to put his arm over her with soft words, but the second the poor boy made contact, Trinity had nearly shoved him to the floor.

Some nights Trinity got violent alone, some nights were consumed by her misery. Her kitchen table was piled with the remnants of binge drinking and takeout because she didn’t deserve to cook anymore. (Cooking was one of Trinity’s favorite things to do. It was a privilege that could be taken away, and upon losing people to cook for, it was.)

Robby liked her better at work. Every precise movement, every snapping sarcasm, every ambitious case takeover. Robby knew what to do with a rabid dog more than he knew what to do with some shaky legged kind hearted doe like Javadi or Nolan.

So Trinity caught Baran’s lip curl in thinly veiled disgust as Robby slung an arm around her and traded snark after each shared case. And she leaned into it.

She let Garcia distract her, she let Garcia smirk and whisper into her ear in the hallway when she knew Baran was nearby. She bent Garcia over the hood of her black sedan in the parking lot and wished Baran would see. Left light half-moon scratches along the nape of Garcia’s neck from where she’d gripped her, hoped Yolanda would keep them and then come down for a consult in front of Al-Hashimi. Garcia liked her better this way.

Through it all, the ambition, the venom, the distractions, she thought of Baran. Trinity thought of Baran.

She grit her teeth and suffered through low groans in the wee hours of the morning, hand working herself to the memories so she might have a chance to cool off enough for the sweet relief of sleep. She painted her tightened stomach white and took a frigid shower to chastise herself for doing it again. She checked her phone restlessly and ghosted anyone unlucky enough not to be Baran.

Standing in front of the windows in her living room, Trinity gazed blankly out at the city.

She hated Pittsburgh because it hid Baran from her somewhere tucked into some apartment or  townhouse or whatever and Trinity should be there and not here.

In her fantasy, there was a knock at the door. It opened, and hands slid over her shoulders, massaging into the tense tissue until she could breathe again. In her fantasy, Trinity leaned back into Baran and Baran promised she was Trinity’s.

Hadn’t Trinity promised her, after all? Hadn’t Baran cupped Trinity’s face, hadn’t she demanded Trinity vow her fealty? The alcohol made it hard to remember what was real.

So she planted her bare feet in front of the windowsill and crossed her arms and stared endlessly. Alone.

Baran fared no better. The self-degradation was as ceaseless as the tides, drowning her in violent waves. 

Where Trinity threw fists through drywall and drank herself dull, Baran threw herself into her work. Kaveh asked to stay with his dads for a bit after the third night she came back after ten pm.

Baran did not have the luxury of losing herself in the bottle. She had charts and patients and neurology appointments and Kaveh (not anymore), and stuff. She had stuff.

“I have stuff.” She snarled to herself one night, bracing over the kitchen sink with whitening knuckles. That was the night after her stomach had turned sour in the middle of the ED while watching Dr. Garcia paint Trinity’s pretty cheeks scarlet with a whisper.

God, she wanted to curl up on Trinity’s chest and let it all be over.

That night in the motel, sweat dripping down her back as she rolled her hips, swallowing Trinity’s every whimper, had ended that way. Her face nuzzled into Trinity’s chest fresh out of the shared shower, breathing in the fabric softener Trinity used on her laundry. Those arms heavy around her, weighing her to the spot perfectly pleasantly.

She drooled at the thought.

So why? Why push it all away upon re-entering the city limits?

Fucking Garcia. That fucking viper got in her head, she knew that. 

“She smells like you.”

“Excuse me?”

“Santos.”

Baran froze, stiff and icy.

“Relax, I’m not the gossip type.”

Trinity was as gleeful as Baran had ever seen her, having a chicken fight with Javadi on her shoulders, Samira and Walsh wrestling them into the glittering river water. Baran was incapable of swimming because she could barely feel her legs still. And as such, could not easily escape Yolanda Garcia’s predatory attention.

“Just wanted to pass along the wisdom I wish someone had given me.”

Baran’s wrath surged through her chest like flames licking at a pyre.

“In case you were hoping for long-term, I mean. I just assume because that seems like you.”

Yolanda flicked a curl out of her eye and bit down a giddy smile. She was enjoying it far more than Baran was, that was for sure.

“Super ADHD. You know how young people are, the attention span of a goldfish, etc. You get it. Trinity bounces between the bathroom stall at Kino’s with some nobody, to my bed to, apparently, yours. That’s on a slow week.” Yolanda laughed wryly. 

Then began to talk about something surgery related that Baran entirely drowned out as she stared blankly into the river with a fog rolling over the logic in her brain.

Trinity was hers. Trinity had said so. Fucking Garcia? Baran thought it was just the usual ED rumor mill.

It took a great amount of willpower not to straddle Garcia to the forest floor and choke the life out of her. Trinity was hers. Trinity would be certain never to warm Garcia’s bed again if Garcia was a gravestone.

But Baran took an oath starting with “do no harm”. An oath she was beginning to severely doubt her commitment to.

So she clenched her fists and let Trinity live the way she needed to. Even if it made her nauseous and poured poison into her open chest cavity.

Kino’s, Yolanda had called it. Some shitty downtown dive bar.

A shitty downtown dive bar that now had a silver volvo parked across the street past midnight, every night, without fail. Sleeping was for a woman with any sane bones left in her skeleton.

Trinity showed up once. Alone.

Left an hour or two later, staggering and bleary eyed. Alone.

Well not really alone. Baran had driven a block behind her until she got to her apartment building and fumbled with her keys for a solid five minutes before another building resident took pity on her and let her in. All Baran could feel was pride and longing.

Her special girl, her perfect girl left alone. Trinity didn’t waste her flawless body on anyone else. Didn’t waste that attention or those devastating eyes or those pouty lips on anyone but Baran.

But the nights had taken a toll.

Countless hours spent agonizing over Trinity, poring over every post Baran could find on her laptop, one hand desperately tugging her panties down. Sometimes the windows would bleed through early dawn blues before Baran would shut her laptop and catch her breath.

It was entirely unlike her. She couldn’t let it take her work, her son, she couldn’t let the Hunger take her life.

One month and four days after Baran had dropped to her knees in the Allegheny State Park forest, she nearly dropped to her knees in the Pittsburgh Trauma Medical Center.

The shift was long. The oxygen couldn’t be pulled into her lungs like it used to be. Her eyes were wild with exhaustion and restless emotions simmering just below the surface, only exacerbated by the strain she put herself through.

A trauma patient with a half-severed leg cursed at her, flailing just enough that blood splattered on her face. Her blood was drawn for samples as per procedure, and upon standing up to return to work, Baran’s knees buckled.

Dana caught her arm and ordered her to take a shower and sleep in an on-call room until she was safe to drive.

Across the ED, Whitaker wrestled the lanyard of car keys out of Trinity’s hands. Told her not to be a statistic. Begged her to come to Robby’s for the night and rest. 

Trinity snapped that if he took her keys she would just walk to the bar.

Whitaker’s lips formed the words “Trinity please.”

She called him a ‘fucking asshole’ (not her most creative moment), spun on her heels, tugged her backpack over her shoulder, and took off towards the elevators. By the time she turned around to press the fourth floor button, Whitaker was gone.

Which was also around the time that she remembered that her phone was left in her car, so any texts from Garcia inviting her over wouldn’t hang over her head like a guillotine all shift. The elevator slowly crawled up and deposited her in the same wing she’d once found a stray dog named Dennis in.

She wondered if she should go home before she hit something again. It would be far less inconsequential at her place of work. Trinity dropped her bag in a room and tugged the faucet to the shower on. Kicked her pants and boxers off, stretched back with aching arms, then braved the icy water.

Baran’s shower had been fine. Or it probably had been, she couldn’t remember. All she knew is that she had maybe three minutes before she passed out, and the bed in the on-call room was fucking with her back. She assumed it was broken and dragged herself from bed to the next door room. Shut the door behind her, collapsed blindly into the bed. Better.

Then frowned and opened her eyes to red-rimmed little slits.

Someone was in the bathroom. Someone’s jacket was hanging over the chair in the corner. Someone’s bag was next to where she’d thrown hers. She knew that smell.

Baran knew that fucking smell. She’d never felt more awake in her life.

Just as she was about to sit up, the woman of the hour padded out from the bathroom with a towel wrapped around her waist. Screamed and hit the wall, eyes wide and locked on Baran.

“Trinity.”

“Fuck! What are you doing here?!” Her arms crossed over her bare chest, then immediately went back to the towel to tug it back up, seemingly warring between covering her cock or her breasts. Baran might’ve died from exhaustion and gone to a very strange lustful heaven.

“Wait— Is this— I heard you almost passed out. Are you staying here?”

Baran’s mouth remembered to work again. “I didn’t know this was your room, I apologize. I’ll leave. I’m so sorry, I—”

“Did you?”

Baran scrubbed a hand over her burning face. 

“Did— Did I what, Trinity?” Saying her name was like swallowing ichor from god. Oh how Baran had missed it so.

“Pass out. Or, almost. Or whatever.”

To her great displeasure, Trinity had situated the towel in front of everything. However, it was riding up her thighs just a bit, just enough for Baran’s chest to flush with the fullness of yearning.

She’d been cursing herself all this time for her lack of discipline in that fateful moment over a month ago, but now was exactly the clear reminder that she needed about why. Baran never stood a chance.

Her brain caught up with her eyes, Trinity was pulling on boxers. Turning her back and hauling a black shirt over those mouthwatering back muscles and the soft flesh of her stomach that Baran wanted to sink her canines into. Tragic.

“I have had trouble sleeping lately.” She frowned. “Why are you up here, Trinity?”

“Fuckleberry took my keys.”

“Oh?”

“No more drinking for me.”

“Oh.”

They stared at each other. Trinity’s eyes couldn’t sit still. Down to the cleavage in her tanktop, to Baran’s lips, to those stunning eyes, to those talented hands.

“Right. I’m— I’ll get out now.”

She stood and stooped to collect her things, then moved to brush past the woman with Baran’s bleeding soul clutched in one fist.

Trinity’s hand shot to her elbow and gripped hard enough Baran dropped her bag. Her eyes were alight with furious flames Baran recognized all too well.

Trinity muttered “Fuck. What am I doing?” and dropped Baran’s arm like it was made of poison ivy.

Her heart bled more. Her baby was hurting. Trinity needed her. She could be needed. Baran could be needed and even if it was only when—

Baran never finished the thought because she was already wrapping her arms around Trinity. Squeezing the girl hard and tugging her against her chest, one hand on the back of Trinity’s head. The spot in between her legs that Trinity surely remembered was throbbing with every whimper Trinity let out into her neck.  

Trinity needed her. She grinned with her whole face at the thought before it began again.

She kissed Trinity’s head. She held the girl tighter for every sob she wracked out against Baran.

“You left me.” Trinity accused into her throat, refusing to pull back. She was salivating over the scent. She was upset and outraged and just wanted to be held. Her hands were fisted in Baran’s shirt hard enough to wrinkle the tight top.

Just like that night, just like no time had passed at all, Baran purred for her.

“Take it out on me. I know, I know… Give it all to me, let me take it….” Punctuating each of Trinity’s sobs with another kiss to the crown of her head. “That’s my good girl, that’s my perfect Trinity…”

Baran thought the girl must’ve been working out. It took Trinity little to no effort to have Baran pinned forcefully into the wall, enough to steal her breath for a moment as she nuzzled harder into Baran’s throat. Breathing her in like she was coming up for air after nearly drowning. Baran knew how she felt.

There was no amount of time long enough to sway with Trinity in her arms. The world was upright again. Her vision was clear, her senses tuned into every part of the woman in her arms.

They were kissing. Trinity’s lips were on hers. Her stomach dropped just about through the floor, eyes still open for a moment in shock. Trinity parted her lips hungrily with her tongue. Both hands cupped Baran’s face, unable to stay for long before clutching at her ribs, her shoulders, up to her throat. 

Groaning with need all the while.

Need, precious, perfect need. Baran was drunk on it.

“Trinity— Trinity—” She tried to break through to the woman desperately fiddling with the waistband of her pants. “We can’t. Not here, baby—”

She cut off with a sharp inhale as Trinity’s hand cupped her through her panties. 

“Oh fuck…” Trinity uttered at the hot wetness seeping through thin fabric. She looked lost, entranced, dazed.

“Not here. Not at work.”

“We’re not at work. I’m clocked out.” Her hand flexed up, Baran’s head tipped back against the wall. 

“My— goddamnit would you stop that? My keys are— oh fuck… in— in my bag. You have to drive.”

“I don’t wanna go anywhere.” Trinity murmured against Baran’s throat, the rock hard outline of her against the boxers making for an extremely compelling argument.

“Too fucking bad. You come with me or you get nothing.” Baran impressed upon her, although the sternness was severely undermined by the whines Trinity earned pressing up into her panties.

“Road head?”

“Get some pants on, vagarneh kireto mikhoram.” [Otherwise, I’ll bite your dick off.]

(Baran never gets to be as filthy as she is in her favorite language.)

Love is about compromise. So Baran gets Trinity to put on pants and take her hand and pull her back into the elevator to the parking garage. In return, Trinity gets to touch Baran in the car.

Luckily the woman quickly gets frustrated and right before Baran cums on her face, Trinity jerks her head up with a hard glower. “I’m not fucking you in this car anymore. Give me directions to yours.”

Fourteen torturously long minutes later, Baran pulled off of Trinity long enough to open her car door and slip out into the nipping night breeze. Trinity had both of their bags slung over her shoulder. She threw her bag callously to the floor and gently placed Baran’s on the table in the entryway with Baran’s best lamp. 

They made it as far as the dining room table before Baran was hoisted atop the polished surface with her pants yanked to her ankles. Trinity buried her face between Baran’s legs once more like she was born to be there, lapping sloppily up the folds to gather all the arousal on her tongue.

One hand forced Baran further onto her back until she was only holding herself up by her elbows, gazing down at the woman working her jaw needily at Baran’s cunt, her eyebrows pushed together, lips parted around repeated broken whines.

A strong forearm bracketed her to the table by her lower gut. Trinity suckled at her clit like a kitten for milk, with all the fervor of a woman starved.

Baran came in a humiliating three minutes flat.

She came with her head thrown back, one hand tightly fisted in Trinity’s dark silky hair, still damp from the shower.

She came hard enough that Trinity’s chin was glistening when she pulled back up.

They were back in each other’s arms like magnets of opposite poles, Baran stroking Trinity’s hair and kissing the taste of herself out of Trinity’s mouth. Licking a stripe up Trinity’s chin to her lips. Fuck, Trinity needed her. Baran could come again untouched just thinking about it.

“That’s my baby, you’re my good girl, huh? You want me to feel good, you wan—” They moaned into each other’s open mouths as Baran worked a hand along the front of Trinity’s pants. Squeezing at the bulge, rubbing at it, massaging the throbbing bulge.

“I want you now. I need to feel you baby, I need to fucking— god, bia mano bokron, Trinity, my special girl, I need you n’side right now, right now baby.” [come fuck me]

Trinity’s pupils were blown, her skin heated, Baran’s pheromones sinking into her bloodstream with the permanence of a gospel unto the people.

Within no time at all, Baran was pumping her hand along the cock that haunted every masturbation session she’d had since even before the forest. You couldn’t pry the smile from her face with a crowbar.

Trinity had two arms supporting herself on either side of Baran’s thighs, clutching the table to keep herself upright, jaw clenched, eyes shut tight in an effort not to cum on Baran’s hand right then and there.

“Baran, fuck, I need you—”

Baran’s heels hooked into the small of Trinity’s back and she guided Trinity to her entrance with ravenous eyes. “Again.”

“Mm fuck— wh–what?”

“Say it again, eshgham.” 

“I need you— I need you, I need you,” and on and on as Baran helped Trinity inside her an inch at a time. The pleasure, the sensations, specifically the fullness Trinity provided for her, was blinding.

It was whiting out her vision. Her nails were clawing across Trinity’s shoulderblades, Trinity cramming deeper and deeper until she was settled fully into Baran at long last.

They panted together, hearts slamming in tandem from separate rib cages, revelling in the feeling of closeness once more. “Take it out on me, Trinity, give it to me, eshgham.” She pleaded breathlessly.

Which found Baran yelping in melted pain and devastating hunger as Trinity pistoned into her.

She felt it in her gut, she felt Trinity slam into her cervix, in the back of her mind she knew they’d made a terrible mistake. Her lips parted to voice it, caught in a groan and a hitch of her breath as Baran gasped for air between merciless thrusts.

“Fuck— wait—- wait— Oh, god, Trinity, fuck—” She choked, digging her fingers into Trinity’s back. “Mm— mm— fuck— Trinity wait—”

The woman’s hips stuttered and with herculean strength she slowed, eyes back on Baran’s, a breath away from her lips.

“Co-condom. I don’t— Do you have one?” Baran took the pause to gratefully suck air back into her burning lungs, hands smoothing over Trinity’s face to soothe the ramped up alpha.

Trinity leaned in and pressed into her lips, pillowing against her with not a fraction of the ruthlessness of the pounding she’d just been dealing Baran.

“No.” She cooed into Baran’s lips with a curl of the corners of her own.

Baran wanted to kill someone. She didn’t know who, but someone had to die. She finally had her perfect needy special girl wrapped around her, finally full of that gorgeous cock, and now the best she got was more head. Baran loved coaxing Trinity into her mouth, she did, and she rarely came as hard as she did when Trinity’s tongue was flickering inside her, but Baran needed the fullness. She needed that little bump against the skin in her lower gut that she could press her hands over and feel how deep Trinity could get.

But before she could regretfully, tragically pull off of Trinity’s length, the woman was rocking into her. Soft at first, barely noticeable while Baran angered over her misfortune, then harder and faster and deeper, one hand cradling the front of Baran’s throat.

“Let me fuck you, Baran. Let me fill you up, please, baby, I just want to come inside you. I need you, I need you, fuck baby, let me fuck my seed all the way into you—” Trinity managed through a pleading moan.

Baran’s head was foggy with desire, cloudy in a different way than it had been for the last month. In a bearable way because Trinity, her perfect Trinity, needed her.

It didn’t take much deliberation to lock her legs around Trinity’s waist and let the girl hammer into her.

Trinity was relentless. Utterly relentless.

The thrusts got deeper and sloppier as she lost control, but Baran was already there with her. They both had a hand on each other’s throat, tightening to an iron grip as Trinity came deep inside her. Baran’s cunt contracted and refused to allow Trinity to work the cum further in, so it was dripping out around the sides.

Baran had to remind herself she could have more later. 

But Trinity seemed to think later was right now, because after a very short break to drop their heads into each other’s shoulders, she was worked up again.

Baran felt the ache intensify as Trinity twitched hard inside her, hips rolling through the aftershocks. “Baby, baby fuck be gentle. Be gentle, Trinity— fuuuuck…”

They writhed in pleasure together on the top of a now slick table, Baran’s legs hooked around Trinity’s waist, groaning through the throbbing soreness and all-encompassing need between her legs.

Trinity extracted herself just long enough to harshly flip Baran to her stomach. One hand gripping Baran’s ass and pulling it back into her thrusts, the other holding the older woman to the table. The noises echoed off the sterile clean townhouse interior, the slapping of skin, the rapid ragged breathing, the steady drip of cum to the tile.

Abdomen contracting hard as Trinity unleashed an impossibly fuller load, Baran beat a fist into the table with a twin orgasm flaring like a cleansing fire over every sense she had left.

They caught their breath in the blue moonlight of the open window.

Baran stifled a whimper as Trinity tried to ease out of her. It took another minute and a half to slip from her wet heat.

Tenderly, almost guiltily, Trinity gently bent to hook the backs of Baran’s trembling knees into her arms, scooping the limp body into her arms and carrying it all the way to the couch.

As Baran drifted back to consciousness slowly, she felt Trinity on top of her half-naked body flat on the couch. She felt Trinity’s lips and nose nuzzling into her scent at her throat. Her eyes fluttered open.

“You need me?” 

Trinity hummed in affirmation, kissing up to her jaw, then her lips. Then one on her forehead longer than the others. “Needjou.” She slurred.

“You can bite me.” Baran said. She tilted her head to force Trinity’s eyes to hers. “You want to?”

Trinity’s fingers graced over the sweet spot on her throat. She licked her lips and dropped her gaze to it. “Mean it?”

“You need me.” Baran half-reminded, half-marvelled. One hand brushing strands of hair out of Trinity’s face, the other caressed her back.

Trinity kissed the flesh first. Once more, running her tongue along it. That seemed to prove too much, because Trinity was abruptly latching down onto it with pointed canines, groaning in pleasure as she sunk into the skin.

Baran gasped, eyes rolling back slightly, the pain sending jagged lightning across her neck and shoulders. “Ah— Fuck— gentle, baby, gentle.”

Secretly she hoped Trinity never learned the restraint she spoke of.

With a slow suckle into Trinity’s neck in the same spot, Baran sunk her teeth in slowly. 

Trinity was hers. Trinity was hers and she would never have to be apart from her again.

Not even in the scalding hot shower Trinity had the grace to caress a hand through the stickiness coating the insides of her legs in.

Thus, they woke up the next morning to golden sunrise filtering through the light linen blinds onto their half-naked bodies, Baran’s eyes flickering open to see Trinity’s watercolor ones already wide open and on hers.

“May I?” The woman purred, already situated between her legs, hands soothing over her thighs, massaging the fullness of them.

The look in her eyes was unmistakable.

Baran blames herself.

It was her fault, truly. She’d got so caught up in the heat and the sex and Trinity that it just hadn’t occurred to her, not even the morning after, not even when she’d snuck out with her coat in one hand and her shoes in the other, doing her best to purge the memory from her mind by throwing herself into her work.

She’d been drunk, they both had been. Fuelled by months of lingering touches and stares across the ED, the night had been as inevitable as the sun rising the following morning.

She’d known she shouldn’t have encouraged it, shouldn’t have let Trinity grind up against her on the dance floor until something hard was poking her in the ass, but Trinity was fun. She was young and eager and so goddamn gorgeous that Baran hadn’t been able to help herself.

She’d blown her in the bathroom first. Locked in a cramped little stall, her hands on Trinity’s ass and thighs, pulling her in, sucking her off with Trinity’s hands fisted in her hair, her hips jerking into her mouth until she came with a snarl and a groan.

Then she’d let Trinity pull her to her feet, turn her around and smush her face against the door, nudging her legs apart before lining herself up and pushing in with her hands bruising her hips.

Her cock had been gorgeous, just over seven inches, long and thick. What was even better was that Trinity knew how to use it, letting her alpha take a good degree of control and drive into her, gentle but unrelenting. Baran’s hands had scrabbled against the door whilst her lungs fought for air.

“Oh my god, baby, please. Give it to me. I need it.”

Trinity had snarled into her ear, nipping at her neck and letting her tongue dart over the gland on Baran’s neck, earning a shiver.

“You’re all mine, aren’t you? A perfect omega, just for me.”

The designation reminder should’ve been the first warning in Baran’s mind but with Trinity’s hand pinning her to the door between her shoulder blades and her cock working so fucking deliciously inside of her, any relevant and rational thought escaped her mind.

Trinity came inside her with a possessive growl and her teeth biting sharply into the bone of her shoulder, hands holding tight enough to bruise.

She’d let Trinity take her home, all the omega in her screaming to be close, to not let Trinity go. She’d let Trinity bend her over the table in the kitchen, ridden her for all she was worth on the couch, sucked her off again when she’d needed a break.

They’d even slept between rounds and Baran had woken up aching, practically begging for Trinity to be inside her again. Trinity, of course, being the generous alpha she was, had immediately provided and slid back inside Baran’s tight cunt and rutted against her until they were both coming, panting into each other’s mouths.

Again, it hadn’t occurred to her. The sex, the heat, her senses. All of it had just begged and whined and sobbed for Trinity that all rational thought had gone out the window and seemingly remained that way until it was too late.

They hadn’t spoken since that night, not properly anyway. They’d gone about their work professionally, clearly ignoring how their bodies still screamed for one another, especially when they were in close proximity. Baran felt it in herself, saw it in Trinity. Little flutters in her stomach, the goosebumps coming out on her arms and the back of her neck. More than once she’d spotted Trinity sneaking off to the bathroom, a suspiciously covered crotch and a deep red flush at the tip of her ears.

More than once she’d been tempted to join her, to relive that night in the bar, wrap her hand around Trinity’s length and watch the ecstasy play out across those handsome features that were just so so gorgeous.

But she couldn’t, she knew that. She was her attending for Christ’s sake, her superior. Just even thinking about her that way was inappropriate, let alone acting on it.

It’s the second time she misses her period that she finally tests herself, finally gets her shit together and isn’t all that surprised to find the two lines staring up at her in return.

Pregnant.

Trinity had gotten her pregnant.

Baran hated herself.

She’d ruined their lives, ruined their reputations and their careers. She’d seduced an alpha resident and let her have her way with her, let her pin her up against walls and pound into her until her seed was so deeply rooted in her body that it had taken it in and stuck there.

They hadn’t used protection, hadn’t discussed it, Baran hadn’t got the morning-after pill, her mind clouded with the thought, the feel, the smell of Trinity Santos.

Even now, with the stick in her hand and her eyes on the younger woman by the central hub, she couldn’t think rationally. All she saw was her Trinity, her Alpha, hers hers hers.

But Trinity was fun.

Trinity was young.

She wouldn’t want a baby, not now, not with her. She was too young, too busy, too focused on her career.

She’s not even thirty yet, Baran.

She wasn’t sure how she was going to tell her. Watching her now, smiling with Whitaker as she looked up at the board, Baran couldn’t imagine how she was going to break this kind of news to Trinity, to break that gorgeous smile and bring her, unwillingly into the real world.

Maybe she wouldn’t.

Maybe she’d let her find out for herself.