After spending the night together for the first time, you wake up wrapped in Trinity Santos’ arms, discovering a softer side of her you’ve never seen before. In the quiet stillness of the morning, a gentle kiss turns into something more—unhurried, warm, and full of unspoken feelings neither of you are quite ready to name yet.
The apartment is quiet in a way that feels new.
Not empty—never empty—but softer. Like the world outside decided to give you both a break for once.
You’re lying on your side, half-tangled in unfamiliar sheets that already somehow smell like her—clean laundry, a hint of her shampoo, something warm and steady underneath it all. Your head is tucked just under her chin, one of Trinity Santos’ arms draped loosely over your waist.
At some point during the night, she must’ve pulled you closer.
You don’t remember when. You just remember the feeling of it—safe, grounding, easy.
It’s the first time you’ve stayed over. The first time sleep didn’t feel like something you had to fight for.
And now…
You wake up slowly, blinking against the early morning light slipping through the blinds.
For a second, you forget where you are.
Then you feel her.
The steady rise and fall of her chest. The warmth pressed along your back. The quiet, almost imperceptible brush of her breath against your shoulder.
You don’t move right away.
Instead, you just… exist there.
Listening.
Feeling.
Letting it settle in your chest that this is real.
Carefully, so you don’t wake her, you shift just enough to look at her.
Trinity is still asleep.
It’s strange seeing her like this. You’re so used to her being sharp, alert, always moving—always ready. But like this, she’s softer. Her brow isn’t furrowed, her jaw isn’t set. Her hair is a little messy, falling across her forehead, and her lips are parted just slightly as she breathes.
You can’t help the smile that spreads across your face.
It’s small at first. Then it grows.
Because she looks… peaceful.
And something about that makes your chest ache in the best way.
You lift your hand slowly, brushing a strand of hair away from her face. Your fingers linger just for a second, tracing lightly along her temple, like you’re memorizing her.
She stirs a little—but doesn’t wake.
You hesitate.
Then lean in.
The kiss is soft. Barely there. Just a gentle press of your lips against hers, like testing the moment instead of taking it.
For a second, nothing happens.
Then—
She moves.
It’s subtle at first, a quiet inhale, her hand tightening slightly where it rests on your waist. And then she’s there—meeting you halfway, kissing you back, slow and warm and still half-asleep.
Your breath catches.
When you pull back just enough to look at her, her eyes are barely open, heavy with sleep but focused on you.
“…morning,” she murmurs, her voice rough and low.
You smile, your thumb brushing lightly along her cheek. “Morning.”
She studies you for a second like she’s making sure this is real.
Then her expression softens in a way you don’t think anyone else gets to see.
“You’re still here,” she says quietly.
There’s something vulnerable in it. Something small.
You don’t joke. You don’t deflect.
You just nod. “Yeah.”
Her hand slides up from your waist to your back, pulling you a little closer without urgency—just enough.
“Good,” she whispers.
And this time when she kisses you, it’s a little more awake, a little more certain—but still gentle. Still soft.
making her hover over my strap as i slowly rub her clit, ignoring her pleas that she's ready, that she can take it. aww, i know, baby, but it's so big. i'm not sure you're ready yet. i'd hate to hurt you... what, you're that desperate? then prove how bad you need it. show me how wet you are. no, not with your fingers, baby. i want to see you drip. aww, you can do it. just once. one drip onto me and you can have what you want. that sounds fair, doesn't it?
you were pretty sure she wouldn't be home for at least another hour. double checked the schedule. enough time to make you anticipate, enough time to make you ache. so you slip off your clothes, throw yourself on bed, your shared bed…and rush to swirl your finger onto the wet, throbbing nub.
but what was it that she…always did? how did she make you shudder, make you squirm and whimper within just a few touches? what was the thing she did to make you realize for the first time you can actually, cum more than one, twice, however many times she wanted you to? that it was not some myth in smut you saw?
just…it feels different. you whine and change the angle again, but how different, and why? even your moans are different, more groans than those desperate whimpers that seem so naturally slipped out when she's the one playing you. your eyes squeezing shut, brows frowning, hopelessly, trying to find that sensation so easily ignited by her.
but you can't, you're just so lost in frustration, and frustration pulls more and more groans from your lips.
then the whimpers of her name roll out.
…
two fingers press at your entrance.
and your eyes shoot open, startled, hands automatically attempt to lift out of a defense instinct, but a palm presses them down, back in place, keep your wet fingers on your pussy. while the fingers probing at you, they drive right in and curl, pumping without hesitation.
your eyes snap shut again and with the blood rushing in your ears, all you can hear is that familiar chuckle.
"you know, i've been watching for a while now baby. pathetic little thing, can't even fuck yourself properly without me?"
"if you miss me this much, why didn't you tell me so i could come home earlier, hm?"
"or is this exactly how you hope for me to find you, insatiable little slut?"
Jemily-forever @jemily-forever - Tumblr Blog | Tumgag
yousharknotpass
prguitarman
izzy806
ellievsbear
romaincrisis
germansingergirl
pixelskylines
