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thevirtualvalentine · 1 year

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002. ONE PIECE, TRAFALGAR LAW.

content warnings: nsfw, med student!law, riding, perv!law, dick sucking, roles switch part way through, college au, maybe more.

plot: oh no! you’ve come down with the common cold and luffy suggest you visit his friend.. traffy? at the on-campus med clinic. seems simple enough till you’re fucking his brains out.

word count: 3.3k

It was just a simple cold, a quick trip in and out of the health clinic is all it would take. Get your decongestant, maybe a cough drop or two and lickity split you’d be better in no time. It’s not that you’re scared of the doctors office, just a bit wary of them whilst the process is long, arduous, and usually results in a headache. That’s why you thought the smaller on campus clinic would be quicker than scheduling an appointment, your friend Luffy said he knew the guy that worked there and added that he was, ‘grumpy but pretty practical.’ Went on a long tangent saying they’d known each other forever, yada yada, “go see him, he’d like you.”

It wasn’t a far walk from your dorm, plus it was a nice day out, the weather didn’t seem to make you feel any worse. When you walked into the small health center, you were shocked to see that no one else was there. The lights were dim in the main office and you would have sworn it was closed if a deep voice didn’t call out to you from another room, “Back here, what can I do for ya?”

You pull your jacket over yourself from the below sub temperatures when you make your way down the hallway. “Um… Traffy? Luffy said you’re studying pre-med. I just feel pretty congested is all..” You eye over the note Luffy had given you to double check the pronunciation, he knows you get pretty nervous at new places with people you don’t know. Annoyance shrouds his voice when he speaks again.

“Traffy? Of course that idiot told you to say that,” you can hear him sigh as you come up to the door. You shove the crumpled up piece of paper into your pocket simultaneously as you enter his office, shuffling awkwardly because he doesn’t look up from the paper work in his hand.

“Sorry bout that, what should I call you?” You can't see his face but he has short black hair that’s a bit messy, his hands show that he has vitiligo and tattoos? A bit built for a doctor, but the white lab coat makes him pop out amongst the pristine and dim space.

“La-” he finally looks up from his stack of miscellaneous books and papers but stutters over his words, “Traffy is fine.” He’s quick to clear his throat while giving a light awkward smile, all annoyance in his tone suddenly gone in thin air. You give a small wave as you pass your weight back and forth on the balls of your feet. The handsome man shakes his head in the act of doing a double take before he asks for your name. “Where are my manners, you are?”

“No no, it’s ok! y/n is fine,” your nerves cause you to mimic his verbiage as you stand planted in the middle of the room. He has these deep yellow eyes that stare you down while he asks you about your symptoms, asking when they first appeared and how long you’ve been feeling unwell.

He tsks which makes you gulp, worried that you’ve come down with a life threatening disease that seemingly has no cure. The snap of latex gloves against his tattooed hands snaps you out of your panic, “Well now, that just won’t do. No worries, doctor Law is here to help.” His low voice eases your nerves. As he stands up you realize how tall he is, and as his face comes into light you’re taken aback at just how handsome he really is. You’re almost annoyed at Luffy for hiding his hot friend from you, scruff that seems to suit him so well across his speckled features. Gold earrings with splotches of white hair scattered across his hairline. You’re praying your fever can explain why you feel so hot all of a sudden in such a cold room.

“Say ‘ahh’ for me.” His large hand rests underneath your chin, subtly tilting your head up to face him. Now you’re certain it’s not the fever that’s making you feel hot, it’s definitely him.

“Ahhh,” you stick your tongue out timidly, trying to avoid his almost predatory gaze while averting your eyes. All of a sudden his free hand enters your field of vision as two thick gloved fingers slide against your tongue, pushing the pads along the slimy surface. “Good,” he remarks monotonously, bright eyes never leaving your face.

Your mouth instinctively closes around his digits and you swear a light smile tugs at his lips before he retracts his fingers slowly. “Shit, sorry about that,” you say nervously, god you could jump off a bridge right now. How embarrassing, or so you think.

“Mhm, no gag reflex?” With his back turned to you he discards the gloves in a waste bin, ushering you to sit down on the examination table with a point of his finger.

You’re confused by his question, does he mean this in a medical sense or a practical one? The man is a doctor you suppose, it’s always best to be honest with your doctor, right? “Only when I’m brushing my teeth, why?” Those butterflies are back, causing you to swing your feet absentmindedly as you tell him the truth.

He returns to you with a stethoscope in hand as he places the ends in his ears. “Nothing, can you remove your jacket for me?” His demeanor makes your heart thump wildly in your chest, words that come out so smooth like he’s a practiced professional. You’re sure there’s something wrong with you because you’re getting turned on from a simple check up in the schools minute clinic.

You try to calm your heart as you take off your jacket, leaving you in a simple flimsy tank top. Hopefully he won’t be able to hear it’s [your heart’s] erratic beat. You curse yourself for not wearing a bra, you didn’t expect your ‘check up’ to go this way when you dressed yourself for the day, it was supposed to be a quick trip.

The cold air chills your nipples, making them visible through the thin fabric as they pebble up. Another pang of embarrassment stabs at your pride when he leans down to press the diaphragm over your chest.“Am I making you nervous?” It’s in the way he doesn’t even look at you as he presses the cold material over your blazing skin. “Your heart is beating so fast.”

“No…” you do your best to lie, hopefully that can save you or else you’ll have to hide in your dorm for the rest of your days while Luffy harasses you over embarrassing yourself in front of his friend.

“Your body doesn’t lie sweetness,” you can feel his stare drilling holes into your forehead now. “Ah, there it goes again.” You think you’re going to melt on top of his exam table if he doesn’t stop revealing things you don’t want to tell him. Your grip on the doctor roll makes it crackle beneath your hands as you try to calm down before you speak.

“What kind of examination is this anyway, I told you I’m just congested.” Defensiveness consumes you as you lean away from his touch, brain too rattled by his other worldly looks and words. You cross your arms and snub your head to the side, unbeknownst to you but most definitely to his own enjoyment it pushes your breasts together. You sigh, feeling bad for raising your voice at him. Maybe a bit of honesty will lessen the tension between you both.

“Look, I’m sorry for yelling, it’s just you’re really attractive and it’s making me nervous.” You drop your guard as you look up at him earnestly, apologizing isn’t always your strong suit.

He could be wrong, but he feels you want him in the way he wants you too. Luffy was right, his friend was hot. He’d heard about you in fleeting conversations, but was always curious to know what you looked like. There was just no way any normal person would want to be around that guy for more than a few minutes at a time. He could kill that guy for hiding such a beauty from him.

“I can help with that.” He turns his back to you once again, setting down his stethoscope. You’re gagged from the fact he blatantly ignored your confession. Your eyes that had drifted to the side now meet his as you stare at him wide eyed in disbelief. He leans over you, slotting his knee between your legs while his hands rest on either side of your head. You blink at him a few times dumbfounded because a few seconds ago you were sitting up but now lay flat on your back as he cages you in. Desire swirls deep in your stomach as you clench your fists.

He doesn’t make any sort of move on you till he has your consent. Sure he’s definitely already used some of his medical practice to his advantage, but he’s not here to hurt you. He won’t do anything to you unless he's sure you feel the same way.

You’re so turned on by it all that your legs squeeze together, interrupted by the knee slotted between them. “Please?” It comes out as more of a whine than anything while you place your hands on his shoulders, dragging him down to kiss you. It's sloppy and rushed at best, filled with mutual hunger as your tongues collide. His knee slides further and further upwards till it makes contact with your cunt that’s slowly becoming needier for more of his touch.

The swap of saliva is anything but sanitary and you almost feel bad for the fact you’ll get him sick after this. When he pulls away a string of spit connects you both, glimmering under the dimmed fluorescent lights, “here, lemme get that.” Traffy, or rather Law, swipes the pad of his thumb across your bottom lip trying to clean up the mess he’s made, a shame, you like it dirty. You catch the digit with your tongue before sucking it into your mouth, working your warm muscle all over whatever’s available to you. His eyes darken a shade as they gloss over when you release his finger with a loud pop sound.

“Is this still part of the ‘check up’” you tease, a coy smile tugs at your lips as you try to rock your hips against his knee. “Cause if so, I think I’m a little sick Doc.” He likes this flirtier side of you, what happened to the girl who walked into his office 30 minutes ago that couldn’t look him in the eye? Who knew such a shitty job with inadequate pay could be so fun.

Law lets his speckled hands run along your sides, groping whatever free skin he can. “Yeah? Think the only cure’s suckin me off. It’s terminal. Better work fast, doctor's orders.” His words send shivers of excitement coasting through you like waves. You’re entranced by that smirk of his, what other kinds of faces can a stoic man like him make?

You sit up to undo his belt hastily while he pulls your tank top off from over your head. It’s a flurry of items being removed till you’re sinking to your knees in front of him. Every part of him is beautiful, dark hair that stands out against lighter skin on his abdomen, additional tattoos that trail down his body that aren’t just on his hands. You could eat him alive and not spare a single bite, he’s tantalizing.

Those same bright eyes watch you now as you admire him, drinking you in. After you’ve finished checking him out you place your hands on his thighs, kissing the tip of his cock which makes him tense beneath your hands. “What, are you nervous, doctor?” He hisses in response, twitching tentatively right before your eyes. You lick from the underside of his base to the tip, running your tongue along his veins.

Law’s more of a pervert in theory rather than in practice, watching you eagerly suck him off like candy brings down all his resolve. His cock slipping in and out of your lips makes his toes curl. He’s trying to suppress whimpers by biting down on the back of his hand. Heat rises to his face as he melts like putty with each jerk of your wrist. “You’re so cute like this Traffy, feel so big in my hands.” He groans at your praise, eyebrows knitting together while sweat builds at his hairline. Those med school types are always such sluts for praise, you should have known.

You slide your tongue along his sensitive slit while your hand twists around his base. “Such a pretty boy, you’d let anyone who walks in suck your dick like this huh?” The role reversal makes him delirious, he’s whining for you like his life depends on it.

“N-no. Just you, swear.” His voice is trembling as he struggles to look you in the eye. He doesn’t want to cum yet but if you keep talking to him like he’s some kind of slut he just might. He can’t remember the last time someone’s sucked him off like this, treating his dick like a prized commodity, it’s too much for him.

You take all of him in your throat while breathing through your nose, grasping at his bare thighs with your well manicured nails. He’s so thick it surprisingly makes you gag around him, tears well up in your vision but you push through, bobbing your head along his length. Spit dribbles down your chin and he’s convinced you’re trying to suck him dry. “Fuck please, do-don’t stop,” he’s never felt this out of control in his life and for once it feels nice to let go. He cums down your throat with no verbal warnings but his body said everything, orgasm ripping through him with a guttural moan.

But you don’t stop, continuing to suck him through his climax till he’s doubled over whining. “You even taste good,” you say while licking the corners of your mouth and then your fingers, letting your tongue slide between the webs of your hands. It makes his jaw drop and he can’t even say anything, his dick gets hard all over again from feeling so desired. Seems he’s found a new favorite patient.

Law can’t just leave you like this, not after you swallowed his load like you’d done it a million times before. He drags your kneeling form up to sit in his lap, letting you settle on him. He finds the placement of your hands on his chest endearing, your fingertips trail his inked skin and it feels intimate for someone who just caused him to break plenty of OSHA laws upon their first meeting. “I want you to use me, show me how to make you feel good,” the tip of his nose grazes your cheek as he speaks low in your ear.

Oh god, he doesn’t even know. It’s like he’s just opened Pandora’s box without a care in the world, and worst of all he personally asked for it. You can only smile sweetly, “this time let me hear you.” He nods like a dog just given orders, resting back against his palms as he waits for instructions. Your hands continue to feel him up, raking your nails across his pecks or squeezing at his biceps while you praise his figure. Law continuously gets harder beneath you, not even he was aware of this newfound kink for praise. Precum leaks from his tip in globs, please for the love of god just fuck him already.

You take him with no prep, usually you’d make sure to stretch yourself but with how wet he’s made you it’s honestly unnecessary. “Aah— fuck wait wait. You’re so tight.” He tries bracing himself when you sheath him, hands come flying to your hips as he grips you in place. “Can’t.. you feel s’good,” he’s breathing heavily trying to ground himself. Maybe he’s bitten off more than he can chew.

“But you’re taking me so well baby, your cock’s perfect.” And again he moans, it’s the sweetest thing you’ve ever heard, he tries biting his bottom lip to silence himself but you roll your hips forwards. “I said, let me hear you.” You wrap your arms around his neck as you push yourself up by your thighs to drop back down again. Continuing the motion while he struggles to keep up beneath you. Law attempts to keep his eyes open but with his previous orgasm it’s borderline impossible, the rhythmic slam of your hips on his dick sends his mind somewhere hazy.

He’s too cute, falling apart like this. Zero composure left to his name as you bounce up and down. The veins on his cock rub so deliciously within your heat, every time they throb you’re sent into ecstasy. The table creaks and gives as you ride him, if anyone walked in right now they could hear it or him whimpering helplessly.

You lean forward trying to position yourself so your clit grazes his pelvis with each grind of your hips. “Touch me Traffy, anywhere please just touch me.” Your close, so close that you can feel the pressure building in your cunt. His mouth latches onto your nipple, kneading the soft flesh with practiced hands. The added sensation sends your head rolling back, tapered pants of how good he is at this and how you don’t want him to stop escape you.

The view is impeccable, delicate tits in his face while your slick pussy engulfs him. He watches the way your mouth moves when you say his name and saves the memory for later use when he’s all alone. It almost feels like a movie to him, but he knows a film couldn’t be as good as this. Even that stupid nickname he’s gotten over the years sounds so sultry coming from you right now.

Your hand comes down from his shoulder to push him off you and he’s startled, figuring he must have done something wrong, but then you’re touching yourself as you fuck him and he’s trying to keep the floodgates from pouring over. You twist and tug at your own breast before trailing it down your body, trying to relieve that desperate ache that’s built up throughout your trip to his clinic. His eyes are blown wide, pupils dilated as he watches your fingers drag through your folds and then your puffy clit. “Said you wanted to watch me, so watch pervert.”

Oh fuckkkk. His hips jerk, biting his own lip hard enough to draw blood as he coats your insides white. He can’t do anything but whimper and shake noisily, gravelly voice failing him because of how hard this second orgasm rips through him. “Yes yes yes! Fuck, you’re so hot.” You must be trying to kill him, he can’t take anymore of your praise or he’s going to have to come back for more.

“Such a slutty face, gonna make me cum all over this dick.” Your fingers work faster and faster over your nub bringing you closer to that euphoria. It’s licking your insides like wildfire and it truly feels like it might be the cure to any disease. Finally it crashes over you, the back of your thighs slap against his for the final time as you cream all around him. Hands shooting for his hair as you grind out the remainder of your high.

It felt so dirty to be used as a cock to fuck but dear god did it look so good. Your heavy breath hitting him in warm fans as your body calms down. “So..” you huff while laying down on top of him, “think I’m cured?”

“No, I think you’ll have to visit for regular check ups.” Those same hands that you first noticed when you walked in rub circles on the dimples of your lower back, another cheeky smirk from the med student following suit.

#law #I enjoyed writing this a bit too much #law smut #trafalgar law smut #law x y/n #trafalgar law x reader #law x you #law x reader #one piece smut #one piece x reader

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nectar-cellar · 7 months

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welcome to nectar-cellar hair transplant clinic

i lowered the hairlines on some ea hairs and one 2t3 conversion. hopefully now i will actually use them more 😩

i have a whole bunch of hairs bookmarked to lower, i hope to post them once i am done :D

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badbatchsprincess · 5 months

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Heated ~ pt. 3

Pt.1 ~ Pt.2 ~ Pt.3 ~ Pt.4 ~ Pt.5 ~ Pt.6 ~ Pt.7 ~ Pt.8 ~ Pt.9

Masterlist

Summary: This is an ABO Bad batch!Poly x Omega Reader smut with a plot. This takes place as an AU before order 66. Y/N previously served under the 501st before being transferred to Special Forces 99. This is her adventure with these rowdy Alphas in a quickly changing universe.

THIS IS AN ABO AU ABOUT THE BAD BATCH (NO CANON OMEGA!) Due to the unfortunate situation of her name being Omega… Omega the child from the canon series is not going to be apart of this fanfic/porn with a plot. I feel obligated to put this warning in because it makes my skin crawl thinking anyone could make that mistake.

Warnings: Some suggestive themes regarding heat cycles and general awkwardness. Also Layla is a playful omega causing trouble for the boys.

─ ⋅ ⋅ ⋅ ──── ♡ ─── ⋅ ⋅ ⋅ ──

A sweet scent filled your nose, drawing you slowly from your slumber. Reaching out with your hand, you were met with the softest sheets you’ve felt in a long time. A silky hand lightly traced along your cheek and combed back your hairline in a soothing manner. You leaned into the touch, finally starting to come back to consciousness.

“Hey, pretty girl,” a saccharine female voice lulled you back.

You groaned, feeling the aches returning to your body as your eyes fluttered.

With a slow blink, you winced at how bright the lights were, longing to return to the comforting darkness behind your eyes.

“Her vitals are coming back,” the voice said, moving to brush your hair away from your face. “You can get the General now.”

You finally started to adjust to the white lights. Looking around, you took in the stark hospital room, along with the massive window of stars to your left. Sitting on the stool next to you was a face you didn’t expect to see outside the field.

“Layla?” you croaked, feeling how hoarse your voice had become.

“Hey,” she gave you a sweet smile, never leaving your side.

“Where…?” you tried sitting up, but she gently kept you lying down with a small, manicured hand. “W-where am I?”

You recognized the room as a Republic vessel. This certainly wasn’t the Marauder.

“You’re on General Skywalker’s Venator,” she informed you.

You scrunched your nose in confusion. “H-how?”

“Your squad brought you here,” she kept combing your scalp with her nails. “You had a pretty bad accident.”

You stared at her, struggling to piece together the events that led you here. How had you ended up back on Skywalker's ship? Wasn't he on Coruscant for repairs?

"Why are you here? You never leave the clinic," you noted, trying to make sense of the situation.

"I wouldn't have, but I was with the boys when they received the call," Layla explained, with a sweet smile. "They thought I should come and be with you. And there was no way my boss was turning down a directive from General Skywalker."

You sighed, still grappling with confusion. Where was your squad? Was the 501st here? Your mind raced with questions until Layla offered you a glass of ice-cold water, which you eagerly accepted.

You looked down at your hands, seeing the deep purple bruises on your left wrist along with the scraps and cuts. Suddenly, you started to remember what happened. The wild look in Hunter’s eyes as he manhandled you around the ship. The way he threw you like a rag doll, trying to tear the implant out of you. You gasped and went to touch your shoulder where he had cut you.

Layla watched you with concern. "It's okay. We patched you up. The sniper did a decent job, but you passed out when they brought you on board."

"What?" you looked at her, recalling Crosshair's unexpected assistance and protection.

You remembered his uncharacteristic behavior, both his hostility and his unexpected care. It was a jarring contrast to his usual demeanor.

“Strange Alpha,” she smiled. “He snarled at us when we tried to get you to the medical wing. He only agreed to let you go when he realized omegas would be treating you. I thought he was going to take Kix’s head off. He carried you all the way up here.”

You looked at her with shock in your eyes. Crosshair? He doesn’t give a crap about anyone… Especially not you…

“If you knew him, you’d be shocked hearing that,” you tried to laugh, but your throat was killing you. She laughed.

Just then, the sound of approaching footsteps signaled the arrival of General Skywalker. With a kind smile, he greeted Layla before turning his attention to you, offering a warm embrace that elicited a wince from your still-aching body. You didn’t miss the way Layla’s cheeks flushed pink in his presence.

"Explain yourself," he teased, though his eyes held a hint of concern. "I thought you were tired of taking beatings, which is why you left us."

You chuckled weakly, feeling a pang of guilt at his playful reproach. You knew he and the others were likely unsettled by your departure. They didn’t like their pack mates straying too far.

"If I had known this was in store, I would have stayed," you joked, gesturing to your bruises. "Your hair has gotten long," you noted, observing its length.

An amused smirk played across his lips.

"Can someone tell me what happened?" you asked, still bewildered. "How did I end up here? Where's my unit? Is Hunter okay?"

Anakin hesitated, exchanging a glance with Layla before responding. "Sergeant Hunter? He's alive," he assured you, explaining the situation as best he could.

“He’s alive?” you asked confirming. “I-I had, I had to…” you remembered pulling the trigger. The sound his blaster made and the look on his face when he realized what you did. The monitors next to your head started beeping faster with your anxious heart rate.

“He’s alive,” Anakin said trying to calm you. “They had to run some tests on him to make sure the chemical compounds were out of his system. I-I didn’t know exactly what happened until your pilot informed me. He said the Sergeant was exposed to drugs that caused him to attack you…”

“He brutalized her,” Layla growled, looking you over. You were covered head to toe in bruises. Layla had cried when she saw the cut he had made, tearing out your implant, then the bruises. When she had peeled Crosshair’s shirt from you, she had sobbed seeing the bruises littering your entire form.

You lowered your eyes to the sheets, starting to feel like you were going to cry again.

“He didn’t know what he was doing. He wasn’t in his right mind,” you whispered, feeling guilty for shooting him.

Anakin sighed and placed a hand on your shoulder, trying to console you.

“You did what you had to do, Tiny,” Anakin reminded you. “He’s a soldier. He understands that.”

Layla huffed. Omegas understood alphas can be cruel. That’s just the universe we live in. But it was eating up your friend to see the damage you withstood.

“We are working with the survivor. She’s trying to help us understand what happened to your Sergeant. But until then…” he stood up and walked to the door, “You have a lot of very anxious pack members waiting to see you.”

He opened the door, and not a moment later, two blurs of white and blue came barreling into the room.

“Tiny!” Fives and Jesse flung themselves on top of you. Anakin left with a smile, leaving you to be dog-piled by his men.

“Ugh!” you barked on impact. Jesse snuggled into your side while Fives curled up on your feet. Just like pups. You winced as their armor collided with the fresh bruises.

“Tiny, I thought you died!” Jesse wailed, clinging onto your side.

“I’m okay,” you petted his head.

“I’ll get some more bacta for those bruises,” Layla giggled and stood up, leaving the boys to rub up on you with their comforting scents.

“I was worried,” Fives squeezed your ankle. “We had just gotten to the hangar when we got the distress call.”

“How did you get here?” you asked.

“We met you halfway. The cruiser was en route for Naboo. Crait was one system over, so we just met in the middle. You had us all types of worried, even the General.”

“Are you hungry?” Layla asked suddenly.

You nodded. You couldn’t even remember the last time you ate. She left the room, presumably to get something from the mess.

“What happened out there?” Fives asked.

“Hunter got hit with something and went crazy. I had to shoot him,” you felt the tears coming back.

“Aw,” Jesse hugged you, “It’s okay, Tiny.”

“It doesn’t feel okay,” you whimpered, letting the tears fall. “He’s my Sergeant. I didn’t know what else to do. I was so worried I had killed him.”

Jesse just hugged you. They all knew about your aversion to guns. You spent your days patching up the aftermath; you never wanted to participate in the violence.

“Where’s Kix?” you asked, rubbing your eyes.

“He’s treating your Sergeant,” Fives chirped.

“And the others?”

“Who? The 99’s?”

“Yeah. They’re pacing a hole in the hangar bay floor,” Jesse chuckled.

“You should have just stayed back on base, Tiny,” Fives nudged you. “Could’ve been curled up with the Commander right now.”

You screeched and slapped him, “I almost died, and you’re making jokes?” Your grin gave you away. It totally wasn’t the racing heart monitor beeping aggressively in the background.

The three of you laughed. It felt so good to have them with you; it made the constant body aches more tolerable. You missed your pack more than anything. You hadn’t ever fully recovered after Ahsoka leaving. None of you did. It felt like a massive hole every time you saw the boys. That’s why you had to go too. You had to get away for a bit. You saw the heartbreak in their eyes, but you knew it’s what you needed. But this, this was starting to make you feel like you belonged again, even without the rowdy togruta that made you all smile.

Layla returned with a steaming platter of whatever food they had in the mess. She settled back down next to you, setting it in your lap.

“Mmm,” you groaned, smelling the braised Shaak roast. You grabbed the spork and dug in. Jesse leaned over, snagging a piece of the meat and slurped it down. Layla scolded him, trying to protect your meal from their grabby hands.

You just giggled and listened to their stories about their most recent trip down to Naboo’s surface with intrigue while you finished off your food. You could have licked the plate and would have if there weren’t people watching.

While you were sipping the last of the blue milk, Layla took your tray from you and set it down on the nightstand. “The Sergeant has been medically cleared. I just wanted to let you know.”

You looked up at her, “Can I go see him?”

The three just looked at you a little uneasy.

“Are you sure?” Layla asked, clearly concerned for your mental well-being. The man did just brutally attack you not even 24 standard hours ago.

You nodded. You were sure. The guilt was eating you alive.

“Okay,” she nodded and helped you stand up. She helped you slip into a pair of loose white sweatpants and tied them around your hips. The boys turned away when she helped peel the gown off of you. You winced, raising your hands over your head, feeling every muscle burn and ache. She gently wrapped a fresh set of bindings over your breasts and lowered a loose white T-shirt, some of the physical therapy patients used in treatment. The material was soft and stretchy. You liked it. It was so much better than the cotton surgical gown.

“You can look,” you said to the boys, and they got up to help with your walk down to the hangar bay. Layla insisted you at least put on a pair of socks against the freezing floor while Fives wrapped your arm around his and Jesse supported your waist as the four of you made a slow journey down to the hangar bay. You practically let them carry you, quickly realizing you should have asked for a high dose pain killer. Hunter really had done a number on you.

“Are you sure about this, Y/N?” Layla asked one last time.

“Yeah, I’m sure,” you nodded, “I just need to make sure he’s okay with my own eyes.”

Layla nodded and held the lift door open while you and the boys shuffled out into the hangar bay. Over to the left, you saw the Marauder parked next to a row of assault transports and drop ships.

“Woah,” Layla said, shocked at the sheer size of the military ships. You had forgotten she’s never been aboard a Venator before.

“Impressive, huh?” Fives laughed at her wide eyes.

They stopped when you made it around the corner. Over next to the Marauder was your unit sitting on some ammunition crates talking with the scientist from Crait, Rex, and General Skywalker. You stood there holding onto Fives when Tech noticed you. He perked up, getting Hunter’s attention. The Sergeant whipped his head around, staring at you. The first thing you noticed was the many layers of bandages wrapped around his middle and his shredded top. You could have thrown up seeing what you did to him. He still wore his lower armor, but his top was barely holding on by a few threads.

“Pip!” Wrecker yelled, getting everyone else’s attention.

You let go of Fives and slowly made your way over to the Sergeant. He stood there and lowered his gaze, unable to look you in the eyes. Your heart broke. You could see the guilt eating him up. Skywalker watched the Sergeant carefully in case anything changed suddenly; he wasn’t entirely sure how you were going to react. When you were close enough to him, you broke out into a jog, unable to bear it any longer. Letting out a low whine, you threw yourself at him, wrapping yourself into his chest.

He was shocked, standing there unsure what to do. He had expected you to tell Skywalker to execute him on the spot. Slowly, he lowered his arms and embraced you gently, still afraid to touch you. He didn’t want to hurt you again, no matter how warm your embrace was.

He smelled your tears before he saw them, and his heart shattered.

“I’m sorry,” you cried, pressing yourself further into his chest. You were desperate for his forgiveness; he could smell it all over you. But once again, he was shocked.

“Why are you sorry, Pip?” he looked down at you. “You have nothing to be sorry for.”

Crosshair grunted from behind them.

“I-I thought I killed you,” you sighed, feeling guilty for hurting him.

He let you go despite your protests and kneeled down in front of you. "I’m the one who is sorry, adi’ka," he said earnestly, now seeing all the damage he caused: bruises in the shape of his hands on your neck and arms. The smell emanating from him made you cry even more, and he felt terrible, the poor alpha. You knelt down with him and pressed yourself into him again, trying to comfort him. "Look what I did to you," his voice choked with emotion.

He was so upset and horrified. "You should hate me right now," he said.

"It wasn’t you, Sarge," you croaked out, trying to coax him into embracing you again. "And I hurt you. I could have— I-I—" You stuttered, looking at the side you put a bullet through, biting your lip until it bled. He let go of any restraint and wrapped his arms around you, tucking your head into his neck.

"I’m so sorry, adi’ka," he whispered, petting down your hair and holding you close.

The others watched the interaction in silence. Even the scientist, who was just getting to know these people, observed with curiosity, trying to understand your dynamic with these defective alpha clones.

"But next time," he pulled back, making you look him in the eyes, "you put that bullet in my head, or any alpha that ever hurts you. Do you understand?"

You just looked up at him, chewing on your lip, and gave him a little nod. He wiped your tears with his thumb and pulled you back into him. "You’re lucky, pip. It’s hard to stop an alpha like that. You’re a very strong omega."

You sat there shaking and bonding back with your sergeant, giving him the same comfort you needed. The others slowly returned to their conversation, but you two remained on the floor, sitting near one another. You kept yourself wrapped around his arm while he petted your damaged wrist, trying to soothe away the bruises.

"What possessed your team to go to Crait?" Skywalker questioned the scientist. She adjusted the thermal blanket around herself, appearing cleaner than before. She must have been able to shower and run a comb through her hair. It was a stark difference from when Wrecker had brought her on board the Marauder.

"We were informed that separatist forces were opening mining operations on Crait. We were instructed to figure out what they were looking for," she said. "When we realized the dangers of the compounds, it was already too late. My only speculation was that they figured out that the spice from Crait was different and it could affect your designations so drastically."

"What happened to your team?" Rex asked.

"I had a team of omegas," she said, looking at you. "They died from extreme heat symptoms. Their systems just gave out."

"And that explains what happened to Hunter?" Tech asked, noting everything down on his datapad.

"I believe so," she said, looking to the sergeant who protectively surrounded you. "It has all the normal symptoms of a spice high, but for the designations, it seems to elicit a different response. Omegas go into an incurable heat, and alphas become… something else."

You shivered, making Hunter tighten his hold.

"Why are the separatists collecting this spice?" Crosshair’s silvery voice cut in.

"I don’t have any confirmation on my theory, but—" She looked around at everyone present. "You have an entire army of Alphas. I can only imagine what would happen when they’re exposed on the battlefields… You’d all go mad."

"Thousands of rutting alphas in close proximity," Rex sighed. "They’d turn on one another."

She nodded.

General Skywalker immediately left to make a call with the council to report the findings. Hunter stood up, pulling you up with him before lifting you and setting you on one of the ammo crates. His alpha instincts were itching, desperate to care for you. He grabbed a spare blanket from under Tech and wrapped it around you before tucking you into a little cocoon.

Tech and the others watched in amusement, seeing their leader fuss about how wrapped up you were in the wool fabric.

You just smiled and let him get it out of his system, knowing he couldn’t help it. You both went through such a trauma. It was all part of the reconciliation ritual between an alpha and omega. You got a little emotional, realizing he may even view you as a pack member with how he’s acting. You’d make sure to ask him later on.

Then Layla dumped a metaphorical ice bucket on the two of you. "There’s something else I have to tell you, Y/N," she said, stepping forward, careful not to get in Hunter’s way.

"Hmm?" you asked, starting to feel a little giddy with all the attention.

"I-I…" Her face betrayed her soft-spoken nurse voice. She looked anxious. "I wasn’t able to give you a replacement implant… neither of you."

Hunter stopped what he was doing and looked at the medic.

She continued nervously, "We tested your hormones and found alpha pheromones in your bloodstream. It’s sending you into a breakout heat. We can’t give you another implant until you do."

Hunter suddenly lifted his hands from you and stepped back, realizing what he was doing. The two of you didn’t have effective suppressants and were acting like a bonding pair. It was your scent driving him to do all of this. He flashed back to him licking at your wounds on the ship. He could shoot himself at this very moment; the guilt was setting in again.

He looked at the medic. "What does that mean?"

You were a little annoyed he wasn’t touching you anymore, but you looked to your friend. "I have to have a heat?" You could cry.

She nodded, still keeping her distance from the alpha, not wanting to be perceived as a threat. "I was going to wait a bit and hope you’d have more time, but you’re both displaying traits that have me a little concerned."

"Well then we’ll have to keep them separate," Fives pointed out.

Hunter made a low growl.

Layla made a face as Hunter proved her point. Rex just crossed his arms and walked forward. "We can’t have an omega in heat on this ship. We have suppressors for a reason. She’ll force everyone into a rut, and then it would be a disaster around here.”

Layla also didn’t like the idea of being trapped on a ship full of horny alphas.

“So then what do we do?” Wrecker asked.

Hunter moved to get closer to you again, but Crosshair tutted, flipping the firepuncher to stun. The sergeant stopped and looked at his brother challengingly.

“You take her down to Naboo,” Crosshair said, keeping his weapon trained on his brother. “Leave her at a heat center and put Hunter back on his suppressors.”

You whined, not liking that idea either.

“Absolutely not,” Hunter and the other 501st boys objected.

“You don’t have a choice,” Crosshair drawled. “She’s slipping quickly, and there’s no other solution. I can smell her through the suppressants.”

“Crosshair would be correct,” Tech agreed. “I see there are five locations just in Theed. And while I acknowledge that heat centers are not ideal places, there is no one here equipped to assist Y/N without mating with her. Which we also know is not an option.”

You gulped when they all looked at you. Suddenly, you were starting to feel warm, knowing Crosshair was correct. You realized you didn’t have much time.

“I’ll take her,” Layla offered, knowing Hunter would put up the least resistance with her.

“You need a pilot,” Echo stood up. “I’ll come with. We’ll keep an eye on her,” he said to Hunter, trying to convince him to stand down.

Hunter’s scent was getting stronger by the second, and they knew you wouldn’t budge without his direct consent.

“Vod,” Crosshair urged.

Hunter looked at you with soft eyes. “Is that what you want, adi’ka?”

You tightened the blanket around yourself. “They’re right. I don’t have a choice,” your voice was meek.

He knew you were scared; he could hear your heart fluttering and your anxiety filled his nose.

He begrudgingly stepped to the side, allowing you to slide off the crate and limp over to Layla. She gave a quick goodbye before helping you over to one of the smaller transports. Rex gave the clearance while the other boys ran to fetch your clothes and shoes.

Crosshair kept his rifle aimed at Hunter while he fought all of his instincts to board the transport with you.

“It’s better this way,” Crosshair offered his consolation.

Hunter was devastated watching the transport leave the hangar bay and make a direct line to Theed.

“Alright, buddy, open up,” Wrecker tossed the bottle of suppressors at Hunter, who caught it and groaned before popping two in his mouth with a growl.

The heat center was nicer than you imagined. Everything in Naboo was actually so beautiful. You haven’t even been but you’d heard stories from some of the troopers. The whole planet was stunning, but the care put into all of their buildings was hypnotizing.

You stared up at the art inside the dome ceiling while Layla and Echo checked you into the system. A protocol droid waddled up to you taking your small amount of belongings before walking you to your designated suite. You waved to Layla and Echo before disappearing down the stone hallway. Everything was starting to get foggy in your mind. You couldn’t even remember what Layla had said to you before she left.

You were a little nervous. You had two years of suppressants to work off. You knew this was going to be a grueling week.

“Here you go Mistress Y/N” The 3PO- Protocol droid opened the door for you, “This will be your home for the week.”

You stepped inside smelling the sterile cleaning supplies inside the lush room. There was an area with a holoscreen, a small living room, a kitchen, bedroom, and full bath. This was way better than any place on Coruscant. You looked around getting familiar with the space.

“Food will be delivered three times a day, but the door will remain locked until you’ve been cleared. It’s a safety precaution for the other guests.” The droid rattled on setting your things down on the dresser top.

“There will be round the clock medical care if needed. If you need anything please let us know.” It finished its routine before scuttling back to the door and closing it behind it. You heard the locks slide into place and settled in.

It didn’t take long at all for the warmth to shoot up through your body again. You changed back into the comfier therapy clothes you had in the hangar bay before settling onto the couch to turn on the holonet. You preened at the smell of Hunter still lingering on your clothes. You had rubbed up against him leaving his smokey scent all over the soft fabric. You picked up the front of your shirt and brought it to your nose inhaling the scent.

Shit. You didn’t remember it feeling like this. The warmth became scalding forcing you up onto your feet. You made a beeline for the bathroom turning on the fresher to cold. You stripped out of your clothes and stepped into the glass shower letting the cold water drench you.

You sighed feeling the relief. That was then the slick started to produce between your legs. You whined trying to wash it away. When you were satisfied with being somewhat clean. You shut the water off and grabbed a towel wrapping it around yourself.

A wave of cramps hit you making you yelp and double over.

“Kriff.” You shouted feeling like you’d been hit by a bantha. What the hell did you sign up for.

Crawling over to the bed you brought the clothing with you feeling the urge to start forming a nest. The cramping began to ebb the more you leaned into instinct. You rearranged the pillows to surround you along with the comforter and sheets. You placed the scented clothing right up against your nose obsessively breathing it in like oxygen.

You groaned feeling more cramps churning your insides. You reached down between your legs feeling the wetness spreading everywhere. You ran your fingers through your folds before settling on your clit. Desperate for some relief you began circling the nerves making yourself twitch. Your orgasm came quickly but it barely took the edge off. You were craving more. You needed to be filled and stretched. You craved a rough fucking. You tried again but once again it didn’t do much. You wailed and tossed and turned praying for relief. You really had wished you stayed with the Commander or let the Venator to fall into madness because right now you needed an Alpha. A big, strong, powerful alpha.

You wanted the Sargent…

~~~

When Layla came to collect you eight days later, she said you looked like a drowned rat.

The cleaning droids had come and gone, leaving the place sterile once again. They had washed your clothes, repaired your uniform, and shined your boots, leaving them outside the bedroom in a neat pile.

You felt yourself come back to yourself on the sixth day, but you weren’t totally back to normal. The box of toys left for your convenience had been thoroughly dirtied, along with all of the soft fabrics in your nest. You had even shredded the clothing scented by Hunter on one particularly bad night. The droids had pried the ripped-up fabric out of your pathetic grip and disposed of it, insisting it was a safety hazard, whatever that meant. On the seventh day, a medical droid determined you were out of the thick of it. The droid had also informed you that your bruises had healed entirely.

You were starving and dehydrated. The droids had left food, but you didn’t care one bit during the week. You couldn’t snap out of the frenzy long enough to eat anything anyway. Usually, an alpha has to command you to eat, and without that, you were lost to the madness of the heat.

Layla had helped brush your hair after your final bath. You had scrubbed down in scent-neutralizing soaps before slipping into the repaired Republic uniform. She put your hair in a simple braid, trying to keep the knots out. You munched down on the lunch served to you and happily drank the water, making your friend happy. You popped two bacta pills for the soreness and called it a mission complete.

When it was officially time to go, you thanked the droids before stepping outside with Layla.

“I’m almost scared to ask,” she sighed, interlocking your arms.

“It was horrible,” you shook your head, “Like the place was nice, but it’s been so long I almost forgot.”

She hummed, “That’s why you gotta find a hot alpha.”

“Well, I almost had one, but everyone tore us apart,” you nudged her playfully.

She gasped, “You’re a little-”

“What?” you laughed, “You said it first.”

“He looked like he was going to bend you over that container before I said something,” she pinched you and you squealed.

“Maker help us,” you smiled, noticing Echo waiting awkwardly in the lobby.

“I wonder what he’s like,” she whispered before Echo could hear. You just gave her a playful look. You had a feeling Hunter was a more dominant Alpha. He was a sergeant, after all. But especially since you’ve been on the receiving end of his full strength, you know he could manhandle you like you weighed nothing.

“I had a whole week to think about it,” you thought about how you had run your voice hoarse crying out for your sergeant. The omega in you had nearly snapped from him not being present. The scent on your clothes acted as a cruel torture.

“Hi Tiny,” Echo smiled sweetly. You skipped forward and hugged him.

“Miss me Echo?” you beamed.

“Always Tiny,” he ruffled your head, “You feeling okay?”

“Yeah, I think so,” you laughed awkwardly, “Do I smell?”

“No, you’re all clear,” he took your shoulders in his grip and led you out of the building towards the waiting transport.

“Yay,” you were excited to get back to the Venator. You were hoping Anakin would let your unit stay until you received a new mission. You missed having so much personal space.

The ride back to the Venator was short from the surface of Naboo. Echo pulled into the hangar bay and set the transport down softly. You suddenly got a little nervous to face your unit. Not saying what you went through this past week was shameful by any means, it was just a bit awkward that they knew what had just happened. They knew way too much.

“I want to get your new implant in if that’s alright with you, Y/N,” Layla said, stepping off the ship with you. You nodded and opted to follow her out of the hangar bay and into the medical wing.

“I’m heading back to Coruscant now that I know you’re okay. Fives and the boys said that General Kenobi was supposed to be arriving soon with his unit. I just wanted to let you know. I think I’m heading out tonight after dinner.”

“Aw, okay,” you sighed, wishing you had some more time with your friend, “How was living on a Venator for a week?” you nudged her.

She smiled, “I don’t know how you think straight with so many hot alphas running around.” The troopers posted at the doorways perked up.

“It was weird at first, but most of them are alright,” you smiled, “Especially Rex’s boys. They’re very sweet.”

“Sweet?” her tone shifted to something sultry, “I wanna ride that captain.”

Multiple troopers walking by whipped their heads around to stare at your friend as you passed. You turned red and ducked your head laughing.

“Layla!” you chastised.

She just smirked, “I got a thing for blondes.”

“Oh my god.”

“…and authority.”

“Layla!” you screeched, turning down towards the medical wing.

“Have you seen the way he holds that gun?” she bit her lip, “Ugh, being an omega around all these soldiers is really difficult.”

“I’m going to throw you into a cold shower,” you pleaded for her to stop.

She loved making you loosen up and gossip with her. You had seen her during your trainee days and knew she was a little wild omega. The way she had those alphas in the club wrapped around her manicured finger always kept you entertained.

“I saw him out of the armor,” she mused, “Right after training. Mmm. I almost fell to my-.”

You rounded the corner to the medical exam room, finding said Captain and his boys waiting in the lobby, helmets in hand. They all turned to face the two of you, making you stop in your tracks and snap your mouth shut.

“Oh, hi Captain,” Layla’s voice was saccharine as she gave him a little wave and a once-over.

You giggled, walking forward through the crowd stifling both of your laughs.

“Layla,” he gave her a proper nod, “Tiny, you’re back?”

You panicked, “Yes, sir,” it came out more flustered than you had wished.

Rex raised a brow.

The boys watched you two disappear behind the divider curtains. You turned to her and silently made a funny face at her which she returned, “Yes, sir?” she mimicked silently before grabbing her injector kit.

“What was that all about?” Kix asked, looking up from his datapad.

You didn’t miss the way some of the boys tried to silently laugh at the very awkward interaction.

“Nothing, Kix,” you smirked.

Layla bit her lip, “Up,” she patted the table.

You jumped up, moving your collar out of the way. She sterilized the injection site before placing the mechanism up to your skin. As Layla finished administering the implant, she couldn't resist adding a playful jab.

"Try to keep this one inside you this time," she quipped, her tone laden with mischief.

Kix, caught off guard, choked on his own breath, nearly dropping his datapad in surprise. His eyes widened as he struggled to compose himself, realizing the unintended innuendo.

Tiny yelped at Layla's crude joke, a mix of embarrassment and amusement coloring her cheeks. She shot a quick glance at Kix, who was now sporting a flustered expression, his cheeks flushed..

More snickering erupted from behind the privacy curtain, where the other troopers couldn't contain their amusement at the exchange.

"I'll try my best," Tiny replied, her voice tinged with laughter, trying to diffuse the tension. But the mischievous glint in Layla's eyes hinted that she was far from finished.

Before Kix could recover from his embarrassment, Layla leaned in conspiratorially, her voice dropping to a whisper. "You know, Kix, I've heard suppressant injections can be quite stimulating."

Kix's eyes widened even further, if that were possible, as he struggled to find a response, his mind clearly racing to keep up with Layla's playfulness. She bent over giving him a good look up her uniform skirt when she grabbed the bin of implant cartridges.

Tiny, trying to contain her laughter, shot Layla a warning look, silently pleading for her to stop before things got even more awkward. But Layla, clearly enjoying herself, wasn't about to let up.

"Just be careful not to get too excited," Layla added with a mischievous grin, before finally pushing Tiny out of the exam room.

As they emerged from behind the curtains, Tiny couldn't help but blush furiously, knowing that the entire 501st garrison had likely overheard the entire exchange. But Layla seemed unfazed, her playful demeanor still intact as she greeted the troopers with a sly smile.

The sight of Kix, still visibly flustered, only added to the amusement of the moment, as the troopers exchanged knowing glances and suppressed giggles. Just as you passed through the curtains, she gave you a sharp slap on the ass and a wink before turning back to her injector. Your cheeks burned hot pink as most of the 501st garrison looked at you with varying smirks.

You gasped and covered your mouth, refusing to look Rex or anyone in the eye before scurrying out of the lobby. You could feel everyone’s eyes glaring into the back of your head. I’m going to kill Layla.

“Alright, who’s here for a replacement?” you heard Layla’s teasing voice behind you. Then a symphony of troopers were suddenly vying for her attention, just begging to go first.

With a sigh, you’d had your fun, you realized you needed to show face with at least one member of your unit so they knew you were still alive.

Even though you had absolutely no clue where they could be. If it was up to Wrecker, they’d be in the mess. If it was Tech, they’d be in the engine room, probably causing curiosity-based chaos. Crosshair would be in the armory, and Hunter? He’d probably be in the barracks somewhere. You decided you weren’t in the mood for guessing and just pulled out your com device, “Hey, is anyone there?” you asked.

You waited a few seconds before Wrecker answered, “Pip is that you? Are you back?” he sounded happy.

“Yeah, Wrek, where are you guys?”

“We're in the barracks,” Tech replied.

“Okay, I’m coming,” you turned around, walking in the other direction.

The walk to the barracks was short. A couple of nice troopers pointed you in the right direction, and before you realized, you were there. The massive blast door was hard to miss. The door slid open, revealing your unit lying around in various bunks. Tech sat, legs crossed, leaning against the headboard of a lower bunk, messing with the electronics of his helmet, while Crosshair took the top. He was tossing and catching what looked like a silver ball into the air while swinging his long leg off the side in front of Tech’s face. Wrecker was in the center of the room, chowing down on a ration bar, while Hunter and Echo sat facing one another in the middle of a conversation.

“Pip!” Wrecker put down his ration bar and ran over to you. “Hi, Wrek, ahh!” you screamed as the big guy wrapped his behemoth arms around you and lifted you off the ground like a little tooka cat.

“Wrecker, put her down,” Hunter chastised.

“Ugh, fine,” he settled you back down gently before stepping back and grinning down at you, “I missed Pip. The pack wasn’t the same without you.” Your heart fluttered at the thought that he saw you as pack.

“I missed you too, Wrecker,” you smiled.

“How was the heat center?” Tech asked, looking up from his tools.

You shrugged, feeling a little embarrassed, but you had to clear the bantha in the room. You knew they had to be curious. “Ehh,” you bit your lip tilting you palm side to side, “It was far better than any place on Coruscant but nothing I’d like to repeat anytime soon.”

“It had good reviews on the holonet,” Tech replied.

You giggled. Of course, he studied the reviews.

“You look thin,” Crosshair pointed out, displeased, “Did they even feed you?”

“Thanks, Cross,” your mood soured, feeling a little self-conscious, “And yes, they gave me food.”

He snarked and went back to tossing his toy around in the air.

“I’m shocked the GAR didn’t send you guys on a mission somewhere while I was gone,” you said, realizing how bored they appeared. Had they really been here the whole time?

“Command heard about what happened. I think they felt bad and decided to give us a small break until you got back,” Hunter said sympathetically, standing up from his bunk.

You just nodded. He looked at you strangely. You were hoping he didn’t still feel guilty.

“And,” he shifted to one side, looking uncomfortable, “They want to know if you desire a unit transfer after everything that’s happened…” he looked deflated.

Wrecker whined from behind you clearly upset with that possibility. You looked at him and the others, realizing how sad they looked at Hunters news.

“A transfer?” you clarified.

Hunter nodded his head.

“They want to know if you don’t feel comfortable,” Echo said calmly.

You just stood there a little in shock.

“We’d understand if that was the case, Y/N,” Hunter said, trying to be the good sergeant. You gave it a moment of thought before turning to look at Wrecker, who looked dejected.

“No.”

“No?” Hunter repeated, sounding relieved.

“No,” you crossed your arms, “I’m not leaving… Do you want me to leave?”

Hunter shifted a little, “I don’t want you making a decision based on our feelings. We’ll be okay if that’s what you want.”

“You’re my pa-…you’re my squad,” you stood your ground, feeling a little insecure. You didn’t miss the way Crosshair stopped for a moment at your slip up. Did they not want to work with you now? Did you and Hunter mess up the dynamic? You couldn’t smell it, but you were certain Hunter could pick up on your stress.

“Pip is staying!” Wrecker was jovial. He was pumping his fists in the air like a little kid.

“I’m relieved to hear you are still wanting to work with us, Y/N,” Tech looked at you.

Echo got up and gave you a hug, “I was worried I was going to be losing my favorite stakeout buddy.”

You hugged him back, “I’m not going anywhere as long as you’ll all have me.”

They just smiled and started to settle back in.

“So what do we do now?” Crosshair asked. Clearly, none of them have ever been trapped on a Venator for long periods of time with nothing to do.

“We wait for orders,” Hunter said, sitting back on his bunk.

You slipped off your boots and curled up on the bunk next to theirs. You had a week of sleep to catch up on, and frankly, you were just excited to have a proper mattress to sleep on and you could move on from this horribly awkward situation.

You were positive the missions would come rolling in soon. You guys were the best after all.

─ ⋅ ⋅ ⋅ ──── ♡ ─── ⋅ ⋅ ⋅ ──

I loved writing the Layla scenes so much. I'm hoping now that we have a baseline for the story I'll finally be bale to start working on Y/N's relationship with the bad batch.

To join the tag list comment down below!

@substantial-exposure

#abo #badbatch #abobadbatch #polybadbatch #clonewars #rex #hunter #tech #wrecker #crosshair #echo #anakin #smut #omega #heat #starwars

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coffeeghoulie · 3 months

Note

dottie ive come to ask for either zephyr/aether or rain/dew soft snuggly/lovey/makeout-y hours please :3

I've never written Zephyr before, but there's a first time for everything lol. Hope you enjoy <3

(divider by @wrathofrats)

It's a quiet summer afternoon, not too hot yet that Aether can still keep his window open comfortably. He listens to the junebugs sing and the breeze whisper through the forest surrounding the Abbey.

He sits in his big wingback chair in the corner, round glasses on the bridge of his nose and a book in his hand, the spine well creased from years of loving use. There are no duties or obligations barring an emergency in the infirmary. Aether intends to relax and make good use of the quiet, warm sunlight filtering into his room.

Aether's able to sense their presence approaching long before he hears the steady tap of Zephyr's cane against the marble floors. He straightens in his chair, pushing his glasses up his nose and taking note of what page he's on.

The door's already cracked open for a little airflow, but Zephyr pushes it open, slender pianist's fingers wrapped around the handle of their cane. Their soft grey eyes flit around Aether's bedroom, expression warming when they land on Aether in the back corner.

"Hey, feather," Aether hums, setting his book on the windowsill as he stands to greet them. He starts after a moment, nearly ripping his readers off of his face to tuck them into his pocket.

They cock their head owlishly, smiling at the quintessence ghoul. Their white braid falls off of their shoulder with the motion. "Aether," they say, a bite of laughter seeping into their easy drawl. "I know you need glasses, you don't have to take them off for lil ol' me."

He shakes his head with a playful roll of his eyes, the dimples forming in his cheeks giving him away. "Oh, come on, Zeph. What can I do for you?"

"Who said I needed anything from you?" Zephyr teases, but they take a deep breath, the loose hairs and downy feathers along their hairline fluttering in a near-imperceptible breeze. "Omega's busy with a few patients, might I bother you for a little quint and company?"

"Never a bother," Aether shakes his head, taking a few steps towards the air ghoul. "I will drop everything if you need something, Zeph, and that is a promise."

"What a romantic," Zephyr teases, smiling wide enough to show the gap between his front teeth. They've done this song and dance before; they sit down on the end of Aether's bed, groaning softly as they tug off their shoes after propping their cane up against his nightstand. "If it were truly an emergency, I would have made that known far earlier, my constellation."

Aether sits next to them, just close enough that they can feel the body heat radiating from his broad thigh. He chuffs, big hand settling softly on the small of their back. "Same spots this time?" he asks, doing his best to keep his tone strictly casual, but the infirmary-clinical creeps in all the same.

"Back, hips, knuckles, wrists, the usual," Zephyr says, white lashes fanning out over soft cheeks as their eyes close. They lean subtly back into Aether's touch. "Overdid it playing for Mass this morning and the vessel's making itself known."

"Mhm," Aether hums in sympathy, nose crinkling. The first gentle pulse of magick makes them relax visibly, wisps of hair falling around their face as their head tilts forward. "Alright, should we get more comfortable before you aggravate those joints more, feather?"

They laugh, icy blue eyes just vaguely tinged with violet quintessence. "You just want to cuddle, you big ghoul."

"Aw, you caught me, Zeph," Aether teases as the two of them rearrange themselves more securely on Aether's bed. From the open curtains, a sunbeam sprawls out over the blankets, pleasantly warm, illuminating the dust motes in the air. Aether lays down on his back, legs splayed out lazily over the covers. His arms are open as Zephyr situates themself on top of him, careful of their horns as they rest their head on his collarbone, the two of them chest to chest.

Zephyr sighs, a little exhale as they get comfortable, and Aether settles his hand in the small of their back again. Quintessence seeps between them, and Aether can almost taste Zephyr's contentedness, apple blossoms on a late spring day. He chuffs, focusing the quintessence into their joints, and a relieved purr radiates through their body.

They shift, pressing a smattering of kisses to Aether's jaw. He can feel their long eyelashes brush against his cheek, feather-light, and tilts his head to catch their lips with his own. There's no heat in it, just a sweet peck with the tiniest of spark between them.

When they pull away, Zephyr's eyes slowly open, a little more lavender than they were a few moments before. "Did you- Did you just quint me with a kiss, you sap? I don't think that's professional bedside behavior."

Aether chuckles, made lazy with the warmth and the contact. His gold fang flashes in the sunlight. "For precise quintessence application, all I need is a touch," he says, rubbing his cheek softly against Zephyr's.

"Dork," they laugh, the feathered tip of their tail padding on the mattress until it finds Aether's, curling around it like one of the vines in Mountain's greenhouse trellises.

"Your dork," he shoots back, stealing another kiss as they settle, kneading at his chest like a cat as they get comfortable.

"Yes, mine," they hum, voice slow and almost sticky as the pain relief and magick soak into their system. "Thank you for this, Aether."

"It's my pleasure," he whispers, lips brushing against the soft feathers that line the shell of their ear. The feathers twitch under the touch, and he wraps his arms around the small of their back as they coo, almost sounding like one of the doves who nest in the high chapel windows.

The junebugs sing, air pleasantly warm, and the two of them sink into an impromptu nap, curled up in each other.

#thank you for the request crow i had fun with this one <3 #i need to write the old ghouls more..#dot's writing #aether ghoul #zephyr ghoul #the band ghost #the band ghost fanfiction #aether/zephyr

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beraberblog · 6 months

Text

ESTHETİCHAİRMEXİCO - DRAGON+ (5)

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somber-sapphic · 4 months

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Hiya! if you are open to requests can I ask for a sick Carina fic set during a clinic day where Carina drags herself in despite Maya telling her to go home, but when shes there, s19 has to go on a call, by the time theyre back shes exhausted herself and barely awake (Maya finds her asleep on one of the beds)

"You've really got the sniffles today, haven't you?" + “If you sneeze one more time, I'm going to start getting worried." + "It's not like you to get this sick."

Clinic Daze

〖Summary: Sometimes Carina doesn't have any choice but to work while sick, luckily Maya (and the a lumpy bed) are there to help her〗

〖Word Count: 1.6k〗

〖Pairing: Sick Carina x Maya〗

〖Notes: After watching s7e9 I needed some comfort, thank you for this ask. Also my hand started cramping up while I was finishing this so that's fun

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

Carina sneezed into her mask and sniffled, pushing a stray piece of hair out of her face as she tried to make sense of the chart sitting in her lap. She knew her report was hard to decipher; she just needed to be sure others could read it. She was done for the day, this was the last thing on her list and then she was going home, Maya had promised to take her home if she had to stay the whole day.

“Carina, why are you still here?” The brunette looked up to see her wife striding over, one eyebrow raised in disapproval. Carina straightened automatically, feeling as though she was a small child being scolded. Maya had told her not to come to work and had been telling her to leave between patients. She sneezed twice instead of responding, the bursts coming in quick succession.

“If you sneeze one more time, I'm going to start getting worried." The EMT said, her tone serious. When she had seen her this morning she had been slightly concerned for her health but as the day went on the ball of anxiety in her stomach grew.

“They couldn’t get anyone else, I need to be here,” Carina replied, her voice grating and weary. She had laughed at Maya when the woman suggested that she not come into the clinic today, she hadn’t felt bad at all, just a bit run down. Another sneeze rattled her body and she ducked away, shame coloring her cheeks. She had been so wrong.

“You’ve really got the sniffles today, haven't you?” Maya said sympathetically, offering the doctor a tissue from the box sitting next to her. She accepted and pulled the mask down, revealing a mess of snot and a bright red nose.

She tossed the mask in the trash, no longer having any use for it. The patients were gone and Maya was pretty much bound to get sick considering the two lived together, plus it had been ruined by her frequent sneezing.

“Oh, you poor thing,” Maya paused and glanced down at her phone, relieved to see 5:00pm flashing across the screen. “Okay, the clinic's closed. Finish up whatever you’re doing right now and I’ll take you home, I don’t want you driving like this.” Carina nodded in silent agreement and grabbed another tissue, blowing her nose with a gurgling sound.

Maya bent down and kissed her hairline, her lips meeting hot damp skin. The fever was an obvious next step but she needed to be confident it was there so that she could figure out what exactly she wanted to do to help her wife.

Just as Carina tucked the file away and was about to stand up an alarm sounded throughout the station requesting the truck and aid car. Maya looked up helplessly as her team began to gear up, torn between staying to take care of Carina and going to do her job.

“Bishop, we need you, let's go!” Andy shouted, noticing Maya’s hesitation. The captain glanced between her second and the obviously sick doctor and felt a prickle of guilt in the back of her neck. “Bishop, I’m sorry but we need you. Carina, go make yourself comfortable, we'll be back as soon as we can.”

“Go, it’s okay. I’ll wait here.” Carina rasped, punctuating the sentence with a grating cough. Maya pressed one last quick kiss to the top of her wife’s forehead and bolted towards the truck, gearing up at record speed.

Carina watched in admiration as she leaped into the fire engine and sped away. She felt a little safer every time she watched 19 work together, the way they all moved with such confidence made her feel better not only about the safety of the people of Seattle but for the woman she loved.

With a shaky sigh, Carina stood, wobbling slightly as she angled her body toward the stairs. It was technically a part of her job to clean up after clinic day but she was too dizzy and tired to think it worthy of her time. The firefighters could get in and out just fine which was all that she cared about.

The brunette stumbled her way up the stairs, needing to pause halfway up to sit and catch her breath. She hadn’t been walking around much the last few hours, opting to roll around the bay of the station in a wheely chair. It had done wonders for keeping her young patients entertained and had been far faster than walking would have.

The heat in her face and behind her eyes told Carina that she had a fever but she was freezing, her thin scrubs doing nothing to combat the chills raging through her body. The doctor in her knew that she should find a thermometer, take her temperature, and treat accordingly but the patient in her wanted to go crawl into bed and stay there until she felt better.

She lurched toward the bunks, stopping off at Maya’s locker to snag a sweatshirt on her way. She decided that a doctor would probably also tell her to sleep so she would be listening to the imaginary doctor for the time being.

After at least ten minutes of trying to remember which room Maya slept in, Carina found what she hoped was the right one and crawled into what she hoped was her wife’s bed. She figured that they couldn’t be too mad at her if she ended up in someone else's bed and if they were she could pull the fever card.

Carina pulled the sweatshirt over her head and buried her face in the front, pretending to be held in Maya’s arms. It wasn't anywhere near the real thing but at least she had some piece of the medic there, something to hold. She curled up in the hard bed, drawing the blanket over herself. Part of her was worried about intruding in a space she knew she wasn’t entirely welcome but she felt too sick to do anything else.

A sudden clap of thunder crashed outside, making the sick woman flinch. She wasn’t afraid of storms but it had caught her off guard and the sudden shift in weather was disorienting. Had she been paying more attention to her surroundings she likely would’ve noticed the clouds rolling in and the steady rain that had begun over an hour ago but her delirious mind hadn’t been worrying about anything but staying awake.

The thunderstorm came to be a welcome comfort that replaced her feverish thoughts about Maya’s safety and how cold she was. She wished that she had stolen a blanket from the laundry room before lying down. Soon that thought faded away too as the brunette sunk into the depths of sleep, her subconscious void of dreams leaving her in blissful quiet.

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

When Maya returned to the station she expected Carina to be eating dinner, watching TV, and maybe even still charting. They had only been gone a half hour, the fire had turned out to be a smoking toaster and the injury a minor burn. After giving the woman who had called them a lecture on when it was appropriate to call emergency services they had taken their leave, driving off into the storm.

After searching every place she could think of Maya finally checked the bunks, wondering as she did so if her wife had left. She had never shown much interest in being in the living quarters of the station, actually taking great lengths to avoid intruding into the other firefighter's space. When she found Carina tucked into a little ball on her bed Maya understood how sick her wife must’ve been feeling.

“Oh bella,” She whispered, sitting down on the bed beside her. She rested a palm on Carina's forehead, sucking in a breath at the heat she felt radiating from the doctor's skin. She pulled the hood of the sweatshirt down taking great care to not wake her up. Maya was touched that Carina had gone looking for something of hers for comfort but also felt guilty that she had left her alone.

“Is she okay?” Andy’s voice floated into the room, pulling Maya from the thoughts swirling around in her head. She shrugged and stroked Carina’s hair, eliciting a small whimper from the sleeping woman.

“She will be. I wanted to give her a few more minutes of rest before I took her home.” Maya murmured, hesitating to wake her. Even on the uncomfortable mattress, wearing scrubs and a beat-up hoodie, this was the best she’d seen Carina sleep in weeks. She had been stressed about work and only averaging a few hours a night at best.

“You can let her stay here if you’d like, the beds aren’t the most comfortable but it’s pretty bad outside. I wouldn’t be surprised if we got called in for a flooding rescue.” The last sentence was directed more towards Andy herself as she mused on how prepared they would need to be to deal with extreme weather circumstances.

“Are you sure? I know she’s really not supposed to be here but it would be great if she could try to sleep some of this off uninterrupted.” Maya sat up a bit straighter, relief tinging her words. The idea of waking Carina up only to have to take her outside in the rain even for the walk to her car was something she would rather avoid.

Andy smiled slightly and nodded.

“Yeah, I’ll leave you two alone for now. Let me know if you need anything.” with that she walked away, leaving the blonde to care for the ailing doctor.

“It’s not like you to get this sick,” Maya said to her still-sleeping wife, noticing a bit of drool in the corner of her open mouth. The way she was lying with her mouth open and nose wrinkled up she would’ve looked so silly if not for her illness. “Oh, I’m so using that for payback.” She snickered and took a quick picture before wiping the drool away and pressing a kiss to Carina’s temple.

“Sleep well amore, I’ll be here when you wake up.”

〖Join My Taglist!〗@lovelyy-moonlight, @bloomingflowersthings, @lots-of-pockets, @asiangmrchk13, @scrambled-brain-eggs, @juststuckhereforever, @chairhere, @goldenempyrean

#sickfic #sick fanfic #carina deluca #maya bishop #station 19 #marina #maya x carina #maya bishop sickfic #carina deluca sickfic #marina sickfic #station 19 fluff #maya bishop fluff #whump #fluff #fever whump #caretaking #sick fanfiction #sick carina deluca #station 19 sickfic

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stellagibs0ns · 5 months

Note

please let us see ur morally questionable bedannibal stuff pleaseeeeeeeeee let them come to light

this is simply my most recent word vomit

TW: extremely dubious consent, somno & implied drugging!

if it’s not your cup of tea do continue scrolling. but some of us like a bit of questionable content

Bedelia feels his hands on her waist before she registers exactly who it is. In her Ambien-hazy state, she makes no attempts to fight back or turn him down. She wonders, briefly, which of the two it would be. Is she steady enough to turn him down? Or would she have to fight?

Would she want to fight?

Bedelia makes a quiet sound. In return, she’s lulled by a quiet whisper beside her ear.

“Go back to sleep, Bedelia.”

It’s tempting. But the best she can do now is remain dazed and not entirely conscious.

His fingers reach down between her thighs, caressing her cunt. She isn’t wet — she has no reason to be. That does not sway him. He strokes over her folds with practiced fingers. She doesn’t stir. She simply slips back into her medicated daze, despite a quiet whine escaping her.

Her body, traitorous and twisted, gives him what he wants. The familiar warmth of wetness seeping out between her thighs. Still, no real reaction. A blurry outline of her predicament with no concrete plan to get out of it.

His fingers probe at her, before he slips two into her tight heat. Bedelia makes a muffled sound, her cheek pressed against the pillow as she tries to sharpen the world around her. Everything is vague and fuzzy, her limbs heavy with sleep.

She feels his cock through what she assumes is his pyjama pants, grinding against her hip as he works his fingers into her. She attempts to slur her protests, to no avail. Protests? Perhaps inquiries. She’s in no state to discern between the two.

She’s beginning to think that the pill she took was not Ambien at all, but rather something to keep her docile and pliant. His fingers are quick, and she’s grown careless after nights of sleeplessness.

She’s acutely aware of the heaviness of his breath in her ear and the sound of his fingers pumping into her slickness. Her hips subconsciously grind down against his fingers, seeking friction on her aching clit. If she were more aware of her surroundings, she would hate herself for this. Would she?

Bedelia makes another sound akin to a protest when he curls two fingers and leads her body to the edge of orgasm.

“Mmh—“

“Shhh,” she hears, but the voice sounds distant and disconnected. “Rest.”

She feels shuffling behind her, and her thigh is lifted by a strong hand. He wastes no time in pushing his cock into her, hissing at the way her body tightens subconsciously around him. The best she can do now is make quiet little whimpers, vague murmurings.

His fingers brush the blonde hair at the back of her neck aside, and he kisses her skin, greedy and slow. Her head lolls against the pillow each time she attempts to lift.

She feels his cock thrust into her, stretching her out with each movement. She rarely even masturbates anymore. She’s tight, probably painfully so. For who, she doesn’t know.

He thrusts into her relentlessly as she lies there placid and limp. His hand snakes around to settle over her lower stomach, almost threatening. His palm rests over her womb.

“I’m sorry to do it this way,” he murmurs against her ear. “But you cannot be trusted. Perhaps a baby will change your mind about trying to run.”

Somewhere inside, she’s shocked with fear, but it’s too deep and too far away to respond to in her state. Another whine of protest.

“Shhh,” he coos between thrusts. “You’ll make a beautiful mother.”

After another minute or so, she feels his body tighten, and he spills himself deep inside of her. Sleep threatens to pull her back under. Distantly, she feels him pull himself from her and tuck himself back into his pyjamas. His seed spills out of her and onto the bedsheets. Two fingers push it back in, almost clinically, before he kisses her hairline gently.

“Sleep,” he instructs quietly, almost lovingly. “I need your body in the best condition possible.”

She makes another incoherent moan, but soon succumbs to sleep.

“Goodnight, Bedelia.”

She doubts this will be the last time.

#tw dubcon #tw drugging #tw somno #sorry. SORRY.#bedelia du maurier #bedannibal #hannibal #hannibal lecter #hannidelia #hannibal x bedelia #my fics

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hairline91 · 2 years

Text

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Depa

The DEPA analysis is an inspection method used to evaluate the performance of a PRP system. It takes into account four key factors: Dose, Efficacy, Purity, and Activation. This method is accurate and provides insight into how well the PRP system is working.

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songsofsappho · 3 months

Text

Back from (what I really hope to be) my last session of laser - and it has come to my attention not everyone knows about white vinegar.

Tgirls (and other queers getting laser hair removal) - my biggest tip when getting laser is to go home and rub WHITE vinegar on your face!

It's weird, and kinda gross, but it sucks the lingering heat right out of your skin. I've been doing it for over a year and swear by it.

Hey! Are you interested in starting laser or looking for advice? Lots more tips under the cut!

------

I should preface by saying I have very fair skin and had mostly dark brown hair when I started - reportedly the "ideal" combination for hair removal. YMMV! Also, I've only had laser done on my face and this information may not apply to other body parts.

Canadians

I live in Canada and there are some things that might not apply to other regions!

Check if there's a clinic near you that offers discounts based on your status as a trans person. I paid half price for my sessions by self-identifying and the clinic was (mostly) decent at interacting with a trans person.

Check if your insurance offers funds for the transition process. Mine took receipts from my clinic with no additional paperwork and covered about 80% of the cost, which can make the whole process much more palatable

Before you Start

Being on HRT (estrogen) makes a notable difference when it comes to laser. It thins out your hair and your skin. I started hair removal before HRT and probably went through some extra pain and cost as a result. That said, it made a big difference in my mental health to be working on my transition, and I'd never change that!

Laser is a commitment. I just had my twelfth session of the predicted 6 the clinic expected when I started. Be patient with yourself, and be mindful of the cost. Without insurance (but with the discount) I was paying $100-120 CAD/sesh.

Laser isn't for everyone and that's ok! There's a lot of pressure on trans people to heavily perform gender things just to be respected. The people that expect you to conform will probably always find a way to be dicks, and if you're happy with your body, your community will love you regardless.

This shit hurts. Obviously I only have my own pain tolerance, and the accounts of other girls, as a metric, but like, it hurts. It's so worth it for me but don't go in planning to be a stoic champion. I cry every time. My first 2-3 sessions I growled and whimpered through my treatment. Good aestheticians will keep working. If they make you feel bad for it, time to change clinics.

Try to make a day/evening of it. It's a physically and emotionally draining process and I do not recommend going back to work or out afterwards. It usually makes me sleepy too.

Getting Laser

There are ways to reduce some of your pain - please please please use them if you can. I use a topical anesthetic (5% lidocaine), rubbed in 30 minutes before each appointment. It helps, but it will still hurt

Be generous with the application of the anesthetic. All the way down your neck past your larynx, into the hairline beside your ears, up into your eye bags, on your lips, hell even into the nose a little. You will be able to tell when you missed a spot and it sucks.

When your roots are still thick (first 1-3 sessions), it feels like lightning crackling into your skin with each pulse of the machine. Not in a fun way. It hurts. It also smells like burnt popcorn.

Bring a stress ball or something you can clutch. I stretched out a shirt clinging to it during a session. I use my leather belt more recently.

Bring a lightweight, moisturizing sunscreen to put on after (if your clinic doesn't offer any). It won't help cool your skin, but it will help combat the dryness. You will also get a wicked sunburn afterwards if you're not careful.

Go right home afterwards, if you can. If you're driving, blast the A/C and point the fans at your face. It might dry your skin a bit, but it will help start cooling it down.

Once home, slather on that WHITE vinegar babyyyy. Wait about 20-30 minutes. Skin still warm? More. Skin feeling ok? Rinse off with cool water and use a light moisturizer.

2-3 days after your appointment, give the area a good exfoliating - this helps prevent ingrown hairs.

Try your best to schedule your next session 4 weeks later. It's ok if it's a little later, but it can't be sooner. I once went 7 weeks between sessions and it was fine, so don't freak out too much if there's delays.

REMEMBER, this is a process. Because of the way hair growth works, I find that after every THIRD session you start to see noticeable changes in your growth. Mine went wiry and dark > (after 3rd sesh) dark and patchy > (after 6th sesh) thin and blonde > (after 9th sesh) blonde, short, and stubbly > (12th sesh today) hopefully done!

If anyone has any questions I would be happy to answer 😘

#lesbian #trans #wlw #monamumbles #laserhairremoval #laserclinic #trans advice #transition #trans journey #fyi #share what you can with others #remember what others have shared with you

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1moreoffkeyanthem · 5 months

Text

WELCOME BACK!!! That’s right fellow humans, it’s the second episode of

Bedtime Stories With PCE

And man did I enjoy writing this one, my sweet boys, Stan with the broken ribs and struggling with being hurt for the first time since running dry, his super awesome sponsor, Kyle w the solutions, Moose being the best lil cat ever, just!!!!! And this one is really important to me, because it is SMACK DAB in the middle of Broken Bottles From Apartment 2 after our beloved vet tech Stan gets kicked by a scared horse at work, setting the ball rolling for the rest of that story. Essentially I wanted to address more of his mentality following that incident, and to have y’all meet his AA sponsor! Iconic. Here’s

•coconut yogurt•

“Jesus, dude, that looks bad.”

“I’m-“ Stan cut off with a sharp *schh* as Kyle helped him the rest of the way out of his scrub shirt. “Fuck, I’m okay.”

Breathing fucking hurt. More than that, he was seriously bummed that not only was he on bed rest for two weeks (something that his partner would no doubt enforce with an iron fist), but he was gonna be stuck to paperwork once he could finally go back to work. And it wasn’t like he could quell the boredom by slipping away to the clinic for a few hours while Kyle was at his own job, because Wendy ran the front office and would not hesitate to rat him out.

“Baby, they’re only a little cracked.”

Kyle rolled his eyes and carefully helped him ease to a more comfortable laying position on the couch, gently resting one of the big ice packs they always kept on hand over his side. “Where’s your discharge shit?”

“Front pocket,” he muttered.

Kyle grabbed the papers and scanned them quickly. “Hairline fractures… bone bruising, sweetheart, how on earth are you breathing?”

“Carefully?” His partner didn’t seem to like that response. “Ky, I’m okay. You know how much worse it could’ve been?”

“YES! Yes, I do, Stan! Don’t fucking-“ his face softened. “Don’t smile like that about broken ribs, dude.”

“I’m not smiling about that; I’m smiling about you.”

“You’re hopeless,” Kyle laughed. “The hell am I supposed to do with your hopeless romantic ass when you say sappy bullshit?”

Stan might’ve been a little foggy from the pain. Maybe. “Aww, babe, C’mere,” he struggled to open his arms, which was annoying, yeah, but he wanted to hold Kyle.

“Dude, I am SO not laying on you.”

“Just a little?”

“No.”

Kyle went to read the paperwork again, fully ignoring Stan’s efforts to get cuddled. “Babe…”

“Your prescription should be ready, dude.” Kyle knelt down to kiss him. “Gonna be good if I’m gone for a few?”

Stan pouted, knowing damn well he was being dramatic, but not caring. “I don’t want it.”

“We went over this, sweetheart. You had a problem with alcohol, not pills. Is it just because you don’t like taking stuff anyway?”

“…yeah.”

“Okay.” Kyle kissed him again. “You’re sure?”

Honestly, he wasn’t. There were a lot of feelings coming up right now. Kyle noticed, because of course he did. “Stan, I know that face.”

Against his will, tears started trailing from the corners of his eyes.

“Oh, dude, I know.” Kyle took Stan’s face in his hands. “Look, I really don’t want you to hurt, okay? I know you’re emotional right now. I’ll give you your meds when you need them, and you don’t need to think about it. I can ask the pharmacy about the info too. Hon, we’re gonna know exactly what you’re taking, and you’ll be just fine.”

“I- I always heal fast.”

“You do,” Kyle assured him. “And there’s nothing wrong with needing a little help, okay?”

“Uh huh.” Yeah, he would call his sponsor. He needed to talk this out, with someone who got it. Kyle understood for the most part; he literally had a degree in psychology and had been firsthand through an eating disorder, which was its own form of addiction, but, well, specifics. “I’m- *hic*- gonna text Mark, maybe zoom into tonight’s meeting.”

“Sounds like a plan.” Kyle rose and ran his hand through Stan’s hair. “Ten minutes, hopefully.” He glanced at the corner and laughed. “Oh, poor thing doesn’t know what to do! It’s okay, Moose, c’mere, keep your dad company.”

Their cat slowly crept up to the couch, perching on the arm like a sentinel and making a cute little “mrrmm”.

“Good boy.” Kyle spun his keys once around his finger, and put on a serious face, staring down at Stan with one eyebrow raised. “Now, don’t you move.”

“Just stay where I can see you douse the lights.”

Kyle laughed. “You’re incredibly lame. I’ll be right back.”

That laughter seriously helped so much. “Okay, dude, you know where to find me.”

Moose had started purring, asleep next to him by the time Stan worked up the motivation to get his phone and send Mark a “yo I got the fuck kicked out of me by a horse I won’t be there tonight”. The old man immediately called him.

“Hey,” Stan answered, trying not to laugh at how fast that call was, because he knew that would feel awful.

“The hell do you mean, “hey”, Superman? How’d you get kicked by a damn horse?”

“Oh, you know.” Just hearing his sponsor’s voice helped. Some of the older crowd at AA had taken to calling him “Superman” too, which was objectively funny, and also comforting to hear, especially right now, when he was feeling vulnerable. “Went to give him an antibiotic shot, he got scared and bucked around, broke my ribs.”

“Christ.” He could practically hear Mark rolling his eyes through the phone. “Leave it to you. How ya doin’ with all of that? Gonna be able to come chair tomorrow?”

Judging by how much he was hurting, definitely not, even if Kyle would let him leave the apartment. “I was thinking I’d Zoom in. Will you, uh, do you think that’d work?”

Mark chuckled. “Well, I don’t know much about the video callin’ you young folks do, but I’ll figure it out. Might need ta get Laura to help me. She’s good with technology.”

Laura was a woman even older than Mark, who was not good with technology. Oh yeah, this was gonna be fun.

“Seriously though, kid, are you okay?”

Stan sighed. “It’s- I’m nervous,” he admitted. “About the feelings this is gonna bring up. We’ve talked about my coping mechanisms before, like how I like to move, when I start feeling down, instead of drinking? But I…”

“You can’t go for a hike or work out with busted ribs,” Mark finished. “I know being injured, havin’ to stay put, that’s a trigger for you. Like the bender you told me about in high school, after you broke your arm.”

“Yeah…” Not even Kyle knew how bad he had spiraled that time. He knew it had been bad, but not to the extent that it had gotten to. Getting hurt because of something he loved, combined with the timing and completely changing his career path senior year, all of that had led to a full depressive episode, complete with binge drinking and attempting to cut his cast off with bolt cutters. “I still could’ve been scouted in the spring,” he muttered dejectedly.

“But you chose to quit football,” Mark reminded him. “You’ve said you don’t regret that. You remember why you don’t regret it?”

Reaching up to pet his cat, the little creature who had been the driving force to him actually applying his degree, Stan was reminded that he really did like how his life was turning out.

“Yeah. I’m where I’m supposed to be, right?”

“Not for me to say, Superman,” Mark said. “You’re a damn good vet, and gettin’ hurt because of your job happens.” The smile was clear in his voice. “You’re more worried about the horse, ain’t ya?”

Stan once again had to force himself not to laugh. “Dude, he was scared. I was literally coming at him with a needle.”

“And what would you do if you were in his horseshoes?”

“Mark, dude, please don’t make jokes, laughing hurts like a bitch.” He checked the time. Kyle would be back home any minute. “Same thing, though. Ky’s gonna be on my ass about painkillers. That’s… uh, kinda why I needed to talk.”

“Hmm. I gotcha. You’re worried about the addiction potential? Combined with being home alone until you go back to work?”

Hit the nail on the head. Stan nodded, then remembered that Mark couldn’t see him. “Pretty much. I’m just… I haven’t been hurt this bad, since running dry. I’m not sure what to do to distract myself, honestly.”

“Alright.” Mark could be pretty straightforward, when it came to a course of action, a lot like Kyle. “You like them video games, right? And reading your fantasy books? Bet you got one downloaded on your phone right now.”

As a matter of fact, he did. “Uh, yeah, Atherton, I think”

“I don’t know what the hell that is, but you catch my drift?”

Moose had moved down to drape over him like a scarf, warm and little and soft. Sweet little guy; he always took care of his dads. And Stan had a support system. He’d be okay. “I’m picking up what you’re putting down, dude,” he said into the phone. “Distractions that aren’t physical, but keep me engaged, right?”

“And bingo was his name-o,” Mark confirmed. “Good to think of some that you can do when you’re my age, anyway. You ain’t gonna be Superman forever, right?”

“Dude-“ Stan heard the security door open, finally. Kyle.

Mark interrupted. “I know you got that whole thing about age, kid, sorry. I know you’re strugglin’ so how’s about we just focus on today. That boyfriend of yours taking care of ya?”

“Mhm. I’m pretty sure he just got home.” Yeah, definitely, because Stan could hear the voice of Sheila Broflovski through the door, and Kyle probably didn’t even have her on speaker. “Yeah, he’s home, and on the phone with his mom.”

“Uh oh,” Mark laughed. He had heard many a tale. “She’s gonna give you an earful. I’ll let ya go, then. You can call me anytime, okay? It works if you work it.”

“It works if you work it,” Stan repeated. “Thanks, dude. I’ll probably skip tonight, but I’ll call into the meeting tomorrow, okay?”

“Gotcha. Tell Kyle and y’all’s critter I say hi.”

“Will do.”

Right as he ended the call, Kyle burst in, arms full of Walgreens bags and his phone sandwiched between his ear and shoulder, looking hilariously frazzled. “Oh my GOD, Ma, look okay, he is literally right here just- OKAY, Jesus, yes I’m putting him on-“ he gave Stan an expression that clearly was asking if he was up for this. Stan nodded and grabbed the phone so Kyle could get everything set down.

“I’m here.”

“STANLEY!!! Are you okay?! Oh my GOODNESS I can absolutely drive up- do you need anything?! Have you told Sharon?”

Kyle mouthed “don’t blame me”. Stan shifted a little. He’d been talking a lot for the past half hour and he was actually starting to have trouble catching his breath. “No ma’am, I- wait, how did you find out?”

“Your friend Bebe’s gossip list! She posted to Facebook and said “a certain vet got kicked by a horse” and I just KNEW IT WAS YOU! Kyle said he was picking up your medication?”

“Fuckin-“ Kyle took the phone back. “Ma, okay, I’ve got him. I’m going to take care of him and- Ma. I’m not putting Stan back on the phone. It hurts him to talk. Yes, I’ll tell his mom. No, he’s on bed rest. Do you seriously think I’m letting him out of my- okay, okay, sorry, no- oh my God, I’m not making chicken noodle soup, he’s been vegetarian for twenty years, Ma. Alright. We love you too. Christ, yes, I’m eating. Please don’t start right now. Alright. Yes. We got it. Okay. I’ll keep you updated. Yeah, love you. Bye.”

Kyle slumped over the kitchen island, groaning. “If you say anything about me being exactly like my mother, I’m gonna be super annoying and not run interference next time she calls.”

“Pretty sure you’re not beating the Sheila allegations, baby.”

“Ughhhhh.”

Stan reached his hand backwards, eyes closed, waiting for his partner to take it. “Talked to Mark.”

Kyle took his hand, kneeling by the couch and kissing his forehead. “Good, sweetheart. Do you think you’re okay to get some medicine in you? I know it hurts.”

He was always so thoughtful, so gentle with him, and not in a condescending way, either. No wonder Kyle was so good at his job. He could handle a grown ass man emotional over broken bones; angsty preteens were probably a cakewalk to him.

Stan bypassed the cat across his chest, lifting the ice pack from his lower torso. “How’s it looking?”

“Oh, honey.” Kyle sounded genuinely distressed, and Stan opened his eyes to see his partner actually genuinely distressed. “Stan, I can see the hoof print!”

“…damn.”

“Jesus, dude, you poor thing. ” He stood back up and grabbed the prescription bag from the counter, along with a snack sized yogurt from one of the bags. “Solution time.”

“I’m listening.” He’d take just about any idea. It hurt.

“Here’s what I’m thinking. I got a few things of that coconut yogurt you like. I checked with the pharmacist and she said we can crush up your painkillers into it if you want, if you’re not feeling the swallowing pills. I can keep up with your dosage schedule so you don’t need to think about it.” He tilted Stan’s face up to make sure they were seeing eye to eye. “But if you want to take them less often and stick to ice and over the counters, that’s okay. I’ll handle the thinking about shit, and you handle the taking it easy.”

Stan eyed the bottle. “Are they gonna make me sleepy?” The thought scared him.

“Oh, dude.” Kyle could strategize incredibly, though. “We can start with half, okay? It isn’t likely that they’ll knock you out, sweetheart. You’re not a small guy, and I asked. Dosage isn’t high. And you say the word; we work something else out. First priority is keeping you comfortable so you can heal, okay? Does that help?”

“I’m gonna be okay.”

“Yeah, you are,” Kyle assured him. “I’m right here, you know how to deal with this, and you’ll be better before you know it. Now, some meds and I’ll help you upstairs? We can take a nap? I’ll be right there, dude. Keep you from moving around too much.”

He knew damn well Kyle wouldn’t be sleeping a wink. But he nodded. “You’re for real gonna feed me my painkillers in yogurt like I’m a puppy?”

Kyle grinned. “Whatever works.” He reached over to pet Moose. “Whatcha think, young nastyman? Do I have good plans or what?”

Stan slowly sat up, an arm around his midsection and definitely not comfortable, but that was alright. Pretty soon he’d be able to breathe a little better. “What would I do without you, Ky?”

#them #south park #style #Bedtime Stories With PCE #my shit #OrangeJuiceVerse #BBFA2 #fanfiction on tumblr #idk how to tag this #injury #broken ribs #whump #idk #fanfiction #snippet

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