intro post! 🌱 i’m june, they/them, late 20s, staunchly anti-ai
currently this sideblog is 95% the pitt. likes are from @premonitioner
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taking one shot requests, including x reader! open for asks and messages, too. i do tag obsessively, and you can find a list of relevant ones i use in my masterlist
for @pitt-yuri-week's free day, Yolanda Garcia considers the consequences of her no marriage policy:
Yolanda didn't even see her fall.
It happened on the way back down. They had just stopped for a water break when Trinity turned to take a picture of the view through the trees to send to Whitaker. She was laughing to herself with whatever she had come up with when her boot caught on a rock that shifted under her weight.
Yolanda was looking down at her own phone when she heard the scream that would haunt her for the rest of her life.
Yolanda looked up and Trinity was gone.
Yolanda didn't remember screaming herself. She didn't remember how she scrambled down the cliff after Trinity without falling or getting injured. Yolanda didn't care how she got there. She just needed to get to Trinity, she slide down the final several feet on her butt when the ground was too steep.
Trinity had one arm behind her back while blood was rushing down her thigh, spreading from a wound where a broken off stick was twisted inside of her. There was blood on her face, in her hair. She wasn't moving when Yolanda finally reached her. Yolanda's training took over first. Her hands were shaking as she pressed two fingers to Trinity's neck.
Trinity made a faint noise.
Thank God.
"Trin, look at me," She touched Trinity's face with her hand, eyes flickering to the wound on her thigh before back up to her head. Even with the stick still in the wound, blood was trickling fast down Trinity's bare thigh. Her thigh that was also bruised and had scrapes almost everywhere. Yolanda had to focus. She had to think.
Using her knife, she made a tourniquet with a the strap from her backpack. She pulled it as tight as it could above the wound on Trinity's thigh. It wasn't ideal. It wasn't wide enough and she had nothing sturdier to use than her fucking hiking pole.
Trinity cried out as she twisted until the blood slowed from a steady stream to just a dark, uneven seep around the wound.
"I know," Yolanda had hushed. It was enough that her hands had stopped for a half a second before she forced herself to keep turning. "I'm sorry."
Trinity's eyes were fluttering as she looked over towards Yolanda.
"What happened?"
"You fell."
Trinity tried to move before Yolanda could stop her and another sharp sound escaped her bloody lips.
"Do not move," Yolanda's voice was shaking. "Your leg is injured and your arm may be broken." She didn't mention that she wasn't sure if she had a spinal or neck injury and wouldn't risk moving her. "You have to stay still. Do you understand?"
There was no service where Trinity had landed. Yolanda screamed up for help until her throat gave out on the off chance that another hiker would come close enough to hear.
Yolanda inventoried her injuries over and over again. If she was in the OR or the ED or anywhere else that wasn’t covered in brush and rocks, she could do more. She could fix it. Out here, she can't do anything but scream for help and hope that the blood loss has slowed enough that she won't bleed out.
When nobody came after another few minutes of yelling, Yolanda made a decision.
An awful, terrible decision.
"You have to stay awake," she had made Trinity promise before she stood up. Her hands held Trinity's face in between them. Her thumb rubbed against her cheeks. God, she was beautiful. Yolanda didn't want to lose her. Trinity was blurry with the amount of tears in her eyes. "You have to keep your eyes open, do you understand me?"
Once Trinity had promised, or nodded which Yolanda was taking as the same thing, she had to stand up. She pressed Trinity's hands onto the wound in place of her own and whispered, don't you dare.
Then she walked away from her.
——————————————————————————————
The whole trip had been Yolanda’s idea.
It wasn't even suppose to be a vacation. Yolanda had gotten approval to attend a surgical conference in Denver and when she had realized that the hotel was paying for three nights at a hotel, she decided to add an additional three in the mountains afterwords.
"You could come with me," Yolanda had said to Trinity one night when they were making dinner. Or rather, she was making dinner and Trinity sat on the counter talking.
"To the conference?"
"To Colorado, I don't think they'd let you in the conference."
Trinity huffed in annoyance but Yolanda had just smiled in response.
"Come on, it'll be fun."
"Sitting in a hotel room while you are off with other surgeons will be fun? Do you even know how big your ego is going to be in place like that with a bunch of other surgeons?"
"You survive my ego at home just fine."
Trinity had just looked at her in the way that Yolanda knew that she was reading beneath what she was saying or beneath what she wasn't saying.
"You want me to come on your work trip?" Trinity had smiled.
"That's literally what I said." Yolanda had just rolled her eyes and been appreciative, not for the first time, that
In the end, Trinity traded two shifts and met her two days into the conference in Denver. Yolanda skipped one of the speakers to pick her up from the airport. Trinity spent the last day of the conference sending pictures to Yolanda's phone of everything that Yolanda suddenly wished she was doing instead. Even Emery had turned to tease her about it the day before she arrived, "couldn't even leave your girlfriend at home for a few days to visit your old friend, huh?"
And maybe she couldn't.
But she didn't want to.
They made plans with Emery for the last day to hang out before they head back to Pittsburgh before they headed up to the cabin that Yolanda had rented out towards Vail.
Trinity had complained about the trial that she had chosen. She complained about the six am wake up to get to the trail just as much as she complained about the cold once they were on the trail. Trinity slipped her hand into Yolanda's whenever the path widened enough to let them walk beside each other. Yolanda didn't even mind the sweat.
By the time they reached the overlook, Trinity's complaints had quieted. It was a more beautiful view than they'd get anywhere in Pittsburgh. Only took 4 miles to get there, but as Trinity stood at the edge of the marked area, her cheeks pink from a combination of the uphill battle they had undertaken to get to the lookout and the cold and her hair pulled back into a ponytail, Yolanda knew exactly why she had wanted her to come in the first place.
If she had done this hike alone or with Walsh, she would have been thinking of Trinity the entire time.
She would have seen the view of the mountains and thought Trinity should see this.
That had started happening with everything.
She would hear a story during rounds or see something ridiculous on her drive home and her first thought would always turn to Trinity.
Yolanda thought of next month and Trinity was there. Next year and Trinity a little older, but still there. A different hospital or city or a house without Whitaker in it and Trinity was in each one of those visions too.
Yolanda had never pictured vows or rings.
Trinity was already built into every version of the future she allowed herself to imagine.
"What?" Trinity asked with a shy smile as she caught Yolanda staring at her.
Yolanda took out her phone to avoid answering and lifted it towards her. Trinity shifted and groaned out a "please, no."
She took the picture anyway.
Later, she would remember the smile on Trinity's face when she took the picture. She'd remember the certainty that settled inside of her that this was just the first of many.
There would be years of it.
She never realized that was just hope.
——————————————————————————————
It took nearly five minutes for Yolanda to claw her way back up to the trail. The slope had seemed steep when she was coming down, but climbing it with blood still sticky on her hands and panic in her chest made it feel nearly impossible. She almost lost her own footing twice.
After that, it was another fifteen down the trail before she finally got one bar of service. But it was enough. She was able to dial 911 and say things like twenty-nine year old female, fell off a cliff, femoral artery may be hit, tourniquet in place, going unconscious, along with every single geographical location she could think of before hanging up. The dispatcher kept telling her not to hang up, but Yolanda had done what she set out to do.
They knew where to find them. She wasn't going to waste time on the phone when she could be with Trinity.
Another hiker spotted Yolanda standing in the middle of the trail with blood across her clothes and hands and immediately came with to help.
It took less than 10 to get back to Trinity.
Her eyes were shut when they got back to her.
"No," Yolanda dropped to her knees with a hard thud and started tapping her cheek with blood stained fingers. "Open your eyes, come on."
Trinity didn't respond.
The other hiker dropped to her knees next to them, saying something about pinging their location with her GPS, but Yolanda barely heard her. Her fingers were already at Trinity's neck again, pressing hard enough that she was worried she would miss the pulse because her hands were shaking so badly.
It was still there.
Thready, but there.
"Trinity," Yolanda leaned over her. She cupped the side of her face in one hand, while the other checked the tourniquet. Trinity's hand had slipped away from holding pressure while she was gone. More blood had gathered underneath her despite the tourniquet. "Trin, I need you to wake up."
She pulled the hiking pole tighter and Trinity's body jerked and she finally let out a noise before murmuring, "you're not a very nice girlfriend."
Yolanda almost laughed.
"I'm going to be the worst girlfriend you have ever had if you close your eyes again."
Trinity opened her eyes finally. They were already blood shot; she must have hit her head harder than Yolanda thought. "You already said no to being promoted."
Yolanda didn't laugh.
Trinity blinked and looked at Yolanda like she was finally recognizing her. She could see that Trinity had started to shake as well underneath the jacket that Yolanda had draped over her before leaving. She wondered if—
"It hurts," Trinity's teeth were clenched together. Tears welled in her beautiful eyes and Yolanda wished she could take away the pain. She wished she could haul Trinity up over her shoulder and take her to the hospital herself. She wanted to put her on the operating table and fix her.
But Trinity had landed without Yolanda even seeing. She didn't know if she had hit her head on rocks on the way down or if her spine was even stable enough to move. She didn't know if her pelvis was fractured or any of the other horrifying possibilities that ran through her head when she looked over her injuries.
Moving her could make everything so much worse.
"Yolanda, it hurts," she cried out, her breaths seemed painful now.
"I know," Yolanda brushed the hair away from Trinity's face, leaving a red streak across her temple. "I'm sorry."
Trinity kept losing color as the minutes past. The other hiker unfolded an emergency blanket from their own backpack and helped Yolanda cover Trinity with it without moving her. "Rescue says 20 minutes or less," she said quietly to Yolanda when Trinity's eyes kept drifting shut.
Twenty minutes felt like an impossible amount of time.
"I need you keep those eyes open, okay?" Yolanda pressed Trinity's cold hand between both of hers. "Come on, you have to help me."
"It's okay," Trinity's words had begun to slur together. When Yolanda checked her eyes again, this time she could see that they were uneven. Had they been uneven before? Had she just missed it because she was so focused on the bleeding? Damn it, how had she missed that? Was there increased intracranial pressure? An expanding bleed? Something Yolanda missed while sitting right next to her.
"Tell me your name," Yolanda's voice had started to shake.
Trinity frowned.
"Tell me your name," she said, louder now.
Trinity stared up at the sky, "Trinity."
"Full name."
"Trinity Santos."
"Good, where are we?"
"Outside?"
The other hiker drew in a sharp breath.
"Come on, where are we?"
Trinity's eyebrows scrunched together and she said nothing.
"Come one, we're in Colorado, remember?"
Trinity's eyes moved slowly towards her. "Yolanda brought me here."
She nodded. "That's right, now you have to open your eyes again, okay?"
Trinity didn't move. Yolanda pressed her knuckles against Trinity's sternum, rubbing down until Trinity made a broken noise, opening her eyes for half a second before narrowing them at Yolanda.
"Stop."
"Then keep your eyes open," she knew her tone was harsh, but she didn't care. She needed Trinity to keep those green eyes open.
"Mm, it's okay," Trinity's words slurred. "Yolanda will fix me."
Trinity was looking past her now, eyes unable to stay focus. She kept speaking as if Yolanda was somewhere else, as if Yolanda was someone else.
"I'm right here," she felt something inside of her fracture.
Trinity didn't seem to hear her. "Yolanda will fix me," she repeated, the words slurring together. There was something almost childlike in the certainty of the words. "She's a surgeon. She'll fix me."
——————————————————————————————
By the time the rescue team reached them thirty minutes later, Trinity had stopped making sense. She kept drifting in and out underneath Yolanda's watch. She'd only wake up when Yolanda would rube her sternum or sometimes when Yolanda would squeeze her hand and demand that she come back. She asked Yolanda if they had missed their flight and if Whitaker was still planning on order food for them that night. Twice she asked where Yolanda was while staring right through her.
Yolanda was able to slip back into doctor mode when they approached. The words came out clinical as she offered them the only version of herself she had to give them.
The rescue team were already crouched at Trinity's head with a light out, calling out stats back to his partner. "Trinity? Trinity, can you hear me?"
There was no response.
"Trinity." Yolanda tried this time, but still nothing. "She was talking to me a minute ago."
Someone held a hand out as she tried to get closer. "We've got her, okay? I need you to give us room, we're gonna move fast."
They placed a real tourniquet high on her thigh before removing the makeshift one that Yolanda had made. Trinity barely responded to the stimuli and that worried Yolanda more. They fit a C-collar around her neck and Yolanda could only hold Trinity's free hand and try to stay out of the way. Yolanda was forced to watch as they cut off her shorts and then her sweatshirt as Trinity just started really crying with soft pleases underneath it.
She could only press kisses to Trinity's uninjured hand and pray that Trinity wouldn't remember this. Yolanda wouldn't be that lucky, she would remember every second of it for the rest of her life.
"She's seizing," someone said and her world tilted sideways.
It lasted thirty seconds but it felt like the entirety of Yolanda's future was held in that moment. Trinity's body fell back in a way that was worse than the seizure itself. The medic by her head was already calling into his walky for the status of the helicopter and they started moving her onto the board.
It took almost seven of them to get haul Trinity up the thirty feet of loose rock that she had fallen down for the helicopter to even be able to reach them. The flight medic stopped Yolanda before she could get close to where the helicopter was circling above.
"You can't come," he shouted over the noise.
"I'm a physician. You need to watch the tourniquet has already been on for—"
"I'm sorry, we only have space for the patient and the crew."
Behind him, they were securing Trinity down into the basket stretcher that they'd use to hoist her up into the air. She was covered by a orange fabric that wrapped around the entire stretcher.
"I have to be with her," the words cracked down the middle. "Please, I need to be with her."
"You won't be too far behind us," the man promised but it didn't matter. How could they be asking her to leave Trinity again? "We can't even touch down here."
Trinity turned her eyes towards the sound of Yolanda's voice. She was strapped tightly to a board. Her face was mostly hidden by the oxygen mask they had placed on her, but Yolanda could see the panic in her eyes.
"I'll meet you there," she shouted over the noise of the blades. She pushed past the medic, just to be able to lean to press her lips to Trinity's forehead, the only available piece of Trinity left uncovered.
If this was the last time…
She didn't let herself finish that thought.
"I love you," Yolanda said instead, her mouth close enough to Trinity's ear that she didn't have to shout. "I love you, I'll be right behind you. I promise."
Trinity's eyes found hers over the top of the oxygen mask. Her lips moved and Yolanda couldn't hear it over the engine, but she didn't need to. She'd know the shape of her own name on Trinity's mouth anywhere, no matter if she could hear or not. She had felt it against her skin, she had heard it whispered to her on nights where it was so quiet Yolanda thought she had just dreamed it. She knew every version of it coming out of Trinity's mouth.
"I know, I'll meet you there.."
The tears burned in her eyes as the hiker that had helped grasped her by the arms and started to pull her away from the medics on the ground. She turned, her eyes already narrowed and ready to lash out. "Let go."
"You can't-"
"I don't give a fuck what you think, let go of me."
She twisted in her grasp until she let go, but by then it was too late.
"No," she lunged forward without any plan and the hiker grabbed her again. "No, wait-" she watched as the basket that held her life was already off the ground. It was already starting to spin slowly against the cable and Yolanda was desperate.
She hadn't even gotten to see her face one more time. It broke something loose in her chest. She had spent her last seconds with Trinity yelling at some woman who was only trying to keep her alive and in the middle of that, Trinity had gone up without Yolanda getting one more look.
There was a UTV waiting for her at the base of one of the switchbacks that one of the officers said would get her back to the trailhead faster than walking. They gave her directions to the hospital and told her they already radio that she'd be following. They asked if she had gotten injured or if any of the blood on her belonged to her.
No, she thought bitterly. Every single drop of it staining her belonged to Trinity.
here's an excerpt in honor of working on this fic for a full month now. baran al-hashimi x gn!reader
“Why are you even angry with me?” you ask harshly instead of crying, ready to fight.
“I’m not angry with you. I’m angry for you,” she insists, feeding off you, frustrated she’s not getting through to you, that you’re just stuck in this loop of resistance.
“I didn’t ask you to be.” It’s cold. It’s entirely uncalled for. And it’s meant to hurt. You see that it lands, see the moment Baran’s face sinks and then she steels herself against it. Fuck, you hate yourself.
She says something frustrated and desperate in Farsi, pressing her palms to her eyes briefly before taking a step closer to you, her gaze so earnest and piercing, reaching out as if she might finally touch you.
“I love you. I want you to feel safe and grounded and comfortable in your life. But you keep compromising yourself. Sacrificing your dignity. For what? A surgery you’ll perform a thousand more times in your career?”
“It was one patient interaction!” you insist, and, god, you’re going to cry. You can feel this front cracking.
“Maman?” a tired, hesitant little voice comes from the foot of the stairs, and you both turn immediately. Kaveh is rubbing his eye, holding his tattered blankie in his fist. His hair is wild, pressed flat on one side, his cheeks flushed with sleep. Baran breathes something much softer and loving to Kaveh than she did to you. You may not know right away what it means, but it’s incredibly important to Baran for him to be fluent in Farsi, so she always repeats herself in two languages to help him absorb them both. You’ve been trying to absorb it, too.
“Hi, honey bunny. Couldn’t sleep?” she coos.
“It was loud,” he whines then pouts, and you feel sick. You hear Baran’s breathing catch on an inhale next to you, and you know she’s feeling it, too.
“I’m sorry, joonam. We were just talking about work. Come on, let’s get you back to bed,” she says, walking over to him. He opens his arms, and she leans down to pick him up. He settles on her hip, her arm underneath him, the other rubbing his back. Kaveh leans his head on Baran’s shoulder as she carries him up the stairs. His little cheek is squished against her, his eyes never leaving yours as he disappears.
trinity santos, you deserved a storyline of substance where you struggle with a new attending after you'd just gotten used to the first one and the fundamental difference in your response to them because it's a woman.
and baran al-hashimi, you deserved a storyline of genuine professionalism and being a good teacher as a contrast to your predecessor. about how you have an uphill battle with a department that's been rigid and set in its ways.
and god how i wish this show were about the women most of all.
i need to add to the prev ask that the one thing i blatantly ignore in my characterization of baran is that she would never date a resident she’s directly supervising/mentoring. i just cannot see it.
but i absolutely love grappling with her guilt and shame and desire around being with trinity and knowing she shouldn’t
hi! i just wanted to say your garsanshimi fic was the first time the ship felt real to me (for lack of a better word). it went beyond a sexy threesome fantasy or unrealistic fluffy stuff (which i enjoy ofc!). just very grounded and canon-compliant. i would love a chapter 2; you made their dynamic so interesting and engaging. the way you acknowledged garsantos' past and baran's outsider feelings… how she tries so hard to be *good* to trinity but still makes a mistake without meaning to, and yolanda of all people knew how to help… just delicious
thank you so much for taking the time to send this. it absolutely made my day to read.
i am a big fan of the fluff and smut and angst that other very talented garsanshimi writers have posted here and on ao3. i wouldn’t have gotten into the ship without them!
and i bend over backwards (probably too much sometimes) to make a fic canon compliant and in character, so i’m thrilled to know it landed that way. there is soooo much to explore between the three of them — baran’s shame, trinity’s past, yolanda’s hard exterior and how it all affects their capacity for intimacy.
with a show like this, there is even more about these characters that we’ll never actually know. but i have my own headcanons and interpretations, and i borrow things from fanon. so it’s really cool to hear that it feels “real.”
and yeah i absolutely will be continuing it. i have many thoughts!!
i love whitsantos so much i hope they’re healing from their trauma together i hope they’re realizing that love can be safe & comfortable i hope they’re having movie nights & eating dinner together & filling their apartment with laughter & joy i hope they when they go to sleep at night they know that someone is looking out for them
taglist: @sepisbabe @lotties-ashwagandha and @queer-of-hearts-rerun — fic based on your barantos prompt about shaking off a bad day! super soft smut
Trinity’s keys are loud in the door, loud when she tosses them in the dish on the entryway table, and loud when her shoes tumble aggressively against the closet door. Baran hears her bag tossed somewhere, the stomping pad of her feet, and a loud groan as she rounds the corner.
She wrestles down a fond smile at Trinity’s antics, who has never been afraid to express her disdain for something — who tries to hide it sometimes to be polite, but it just bleeds into her whole body anyway. Baran has always been so careful about which emotions she lets people see, so Trinity is such a wonderful breath of fresh air (even when she sort of grimace-smiles at Kaveh’s earnest but barely edible attempt at making the three of them dinner).
Trinity — still in scrubs — drags herself to the couch where Baran is lounging and flops down on top of her. Baran barely has time to move the medical journal she’s reading out of the way of Trinity’s body and huffs as the air is punched from her lungs from the sudden weight of her.
“I had such a bad fucking day,” Trinity groans, burying her face in Baran’s neck and digging her hands under Baran’s waist to hold her. Baran drapes her free arm around Trinity’s back, scraping her nails up and down Trinity’s spine.
It’s almost 9:30, so Baran doesn’t doubt it. She’d texted something curt around 7:30: be over late. big mva
And then 20 minutes later: is that okay? sorry
Baran smiled at it and replied: yes, love. can’t wait to see you.
“I’m sorry, azizam. Do you want to talk about it?” she asks, her voice lilting as she tips her chin down to kiss the side of Trinity’s head.
“No,” she mutters, her lips against Baran’s neck. Not kissing, just there, soft and warm as her breath fans out across Baran’s skin. Baran adjusts so their legs are staggered instead of thighs pressed to thighs and then brings the medical journal back up, resting her wrist against Trinity’s shoulder blade.
“Okay, well I’m here if you do,” she offers quietly, raising her free hand to gently tug Trinity’s hair out of its ponytail. She sighs when Baran starts massaging her scalp, which is always so tender after a long day.
Baran refocuses on her medical journal as Trinity slowly relaxes on top of her, each muscle group releasing one by one until it’s just her shoulders and her neck. Trinity isn’t always like this after a shift, but when she is she always comes right to Baran for attention. Which is a small miracle in itself. It had taken Trinity months to let herself be cared for even like this, in what Baran considered such a small and easy way. And sometimes she’s still uncomfortable being doted on, so Baran approaches these moments with forced nonchalance. If she had her way, she would be smothering Trinity in kisses and sweet nothings right now.
“Did you eat already?” Trinity asks, her voice sounding heavier, reverberating through Baran’s skin.
“Mmm. But I saved you a plate. It’s in the fridge. Chicken parm,” she mumbles, her eyes skimming a line on the page. It’s getting harder and harder to focus with Trinity’s warm weight on top of her. Then Trinity lets out something between a groan and moan that surprises Baran, and she raises her brow, glancing down at Trinity, who has her eyes closed. “I didn’t realize you had such strong feelings about chicken parmesan."
“I need that biblically,” Trinity moans openly now, and Baran laughs, which shakes through both of them on the couch.
“Did you eat anything today?” Trinity nestles into Baran, squeezing her tighter, hips pressing against hips, nose digging into Baran’s pulse. She loves when Trinity is clingy.
“A couple granola bars,” she admits reluctantly, knowing Baran has chastised her for this before. “But I knew I’d be coming over to a delicious meal prepared by the best girlfriend in the world.” Baran hums.
“You’re lucky you’re cute like this,” she warns, finally setting the journal down on the floor and wrapping her other arm around Trinity. She squeezes her once before sliding her fingers against the nape of her neck in a slow, deep massage. This gets the last stubborn muscle groups in Trinity’s body to finally release, and she sighs, boneless on top of her girlfriend.
“I missed you today,” Trinity mumbles, her voice doing something it only does rarely, all high and unsure. Baran can feel the day on Trinity’s back weighing her down now that she’s allowing herself to be vulnerable, even a little. Baran tangles her fingers in Trinity’s hair and holds it at the root, grounding.
“Me, too,” she sighs. “I went for a walk in that park we like this afternoon. The sparrow’s eggs finally hatched. I took some photos for you.” Trinity picks her head up, looking wounded. Baran keeps her hand in her hair.
“You didn’t send them to me? I coulda used a pick-me-up today,” she pouts.
“Oh, baby,” Baran coos, lifting her head just enough to kiss Trinity, a soft press of lips. “I felt so guilty not texting you right away, but I wanted to watch your face when you saw them. You just light up when you see baby birds. It’s really sweet.”
Trinity’s face opens and her eyes soften in a way that took Baran time to notice and even longer to learn what it meant. It’s so subtle, so monumental. I love you. I love you. I love you.
“You should feel guilty. No more walks without me,” she mumbles, settling back down in the crook of Baran’s neck. Baran’s heart swells.
“Next it’ll be no more going to the gym. No more grocery runs or smoothie outings,” she lists off things that Trinity loves doing with her. “You gonna keep me locked up here whenever you’re gone?”
“No, you’d probably like it too much,” Trinity says, smiling against Baran’s skin, who rolls her eyes but doesn’t deny it.
She takes a deep breath, kissing Trinity’s temple, who nuzzles closer at the touch. She kisses Baran’s neck, a quick peck once, twice. Then her lips press in, soft and warm. Baran closes her eyes, her fingers still tangled in Trinity’s hair. She’s suddenly very aware of Trinity’s chest pressed to hers, a sliver of their stomachs’ touching where Trinity’s dramatic flop had ridden up their shirts. Hips pressed. Trinity’s thigh between Baran’s. Baran’s thigh between Trinity’s.
“Baran,” Trinity breathes, her mouth open against her skin. It isn’t a question or a request, just her lover’s name whispered as a promise between them. Baran’s hand slides across Trinity’s shoulder blade as Trinity’s hips twitch down. Heat swirls in Baran and pools low. Her core muscles tighten, and Trinity sucks lightly on her throat.
“Trin,” Baran whispers back, a promise, a reassurance. I’m here. I love you. Trinity grinds down with more force, and Baran spreads her legs and braces her heel so Trinity can find more purchase.
She gasps into Baran’s ear, and it sends a hot shiver down her spine. Turning her head, she meets Trinity’s waiting mouth, open and wet, noses brushing, cheeks warm. Baran cradles her jaw, other hand sliding down to guide Trinity’s hips, which are growing more urgent by the moment. She’s working herself up quick, little whines falling into Baran’s mouth.
“That’s it, honey,” Baran sighs against her, lips brushing but not quite kissing, as Trinity drags and presses her cunt to Baran’s flexed thigh over and over, hot and damp through her scrubs.
Trinity kisses her harshly, her hand palming Baran’s clothed chest. It pulls the first moan of the night from Trinity, breathy but deep. Baran arches into her, heart thudding.
“Oh, fuck. Need you,” she whines, hips stuttering.
“Where, baby, I’m yours,” Baran replies quickly, automatically, pupils blown and locked on Trinity, who has her eyes so deliciously, softly closed, lips swollen.
Trinity presses her hand down on Baran’s knee, and she drops her leg. Hand practically shaking, she takes Baran’s hand on her hip and directs it to the tie of her scrubs. Baran’s breath catches, her eyes flickering from her pants to Trinity’s face. When their eyes meet, she sees the need, the ache of it spilling from her. Fuck.
In one fluid motion, Baran pulls the tie loose and slides her hand down Trinity’s pants, under her boxers. God, Baran loves it when she wears boxers. Trinity gasps, pressing herself back down against Baran when her fingers meet slick, swollen heat.
“My handsome girl,” Baran drawls, and Trinity bucks, panting into her neck. She’s already close. Baran doesn’t tease her, drawing quick firm circles over her clit in the way she knows makes her squirm.
“Baran, baby, baby. God. Fuck, yes,” Trinity moans, anchoring herself to Baran, clinging on with wet kisses to her neck as the feeling builds and crests. Baran moans when Trinity cums on her fingers, loud and broken in her ear. She works her through it, legs shaking, slowing, slowing. Kissing her cheek, her temple, lacing free fingers into her hair and holding.
“You did so good, eshgham. You are so pretty when you cum,” Baran whispers, slowly easing out of Trinity’s pants. Some choked sound leaves her, and she sinks her hips back down against Baran’s thigh, raising her head enough to see Baran lick and suck her fingers clean.
“Fuck,” she groans, kissing Baran when she’s done, tasting herself. It’s sweet, slow, and Baran hums into it.
“Feel better?” Baran mumbles against her mouth, still feeling Trinity twitch against her thigh. Her own cunt is aching, and Trinity looks so beautifully spent.
“Mhm,” she hums. “I needed that.”
Baran smiles as Trinity buries herself back in Baran’s neck, kissing her there, making Baran shiver. Then her stomach rumbles so loudly Baran can practically feel it against her own body. They laugh, passing it between them like a precious, secret thing.
“How about I heat you up your dinner, and then we take a shower together?” Baran asks quietly, lovingly. “Wash off the day.”
Trinity goes slack against Baran, the thought of food and a hot shower with her hot girlfriend so wonderfully appealing. Baran feels it, relaxes into it herself, letting their bodies meld for a long, long moment.
“I like when you take care of me,” Trinity says finally, so quiet Baran almost misses it. “You make it easy to feel like I deserve it.”
Trinity has a hard time saying I love you. It chokes her more often than not. She feels it, has told Baran so, and still she panics. Baran doesn’t push, doesn’t ask questions, just lets Trinity come to her, soft and unhurried.
“Then I’ll do it everyday forever if you want,” Baran whispers, and it’s probably too much for Trinity. Too permanent. But Baran can’t help it. Trinity’s working her way into Baran’s foundations, little by little, day by day.
“I love you so much,” Trinity sighs, holding Baran tighter. Baran’s heart does something wild and impossible, and her hand tightens in Trinity’s hair, keeping her close. She closes her eyes, exhales slowly into her temple.
do people who watch the pitt know that princess and perlah have different accents when they speak in tagalog? and these accents are indicative of how and where they grew up...
because princess speaks tagalog without an accent, but she has the basic american english accent which tells me she was probably born and raised in the philippines before immigrating to the us at a young age. meanwhile, perlah does have an accent when she speaks in tagalog, the same accent a lot of americans have when they speak it, which tells me she was probably born and raised in the us.
i find it interesting. that's all. and i thought i'd share my thoughts to the non-filipino viewers.
hey guys do we remember in season one when louie says 'i'm digging my own grave, let me' and robby says 'i don't have to give you the shovel' in regards to wanting louie to quit drinking and refusing to support him in his addiction. and then in season two he has completely given up on the fact that things(or people) can change and he brings louie a literal can of beer because he thinks louie(and himself) are beyond saving. and then louie immediately dies before he even gets to give him the can??? affirming his belief that neither louie of himself can be saved???? do we remember that??? that was insane
