7 Bookmarks by SleepyLink
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“Don’t act as if you don’t know what you’re doing.”
“What if I don’t?” Yolanda asked, fingers moving to Trinity’s inner wrist. “Will you show me?” She pressed her fingers into Trinity’s skin, right above her radial artery and chuckled, feeling her pulse racing.
“God, you’re infuriating,” Trinity mumbled, taking Yolanda’s hand, her skin sending sparks where they touched, burning bright. She placed Yolanda’s fingers on the side of her neck, just enough for her to get a better feeling of the effect she had on Trinity, to feel her pulse at the carotid, much stronger there, that much more desperate.Or the 3+1 fic that takes Trin and Yolanda from flirting to making out in a supply closet to finally falling on Trinity's bed
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Yolanda has lived for thirty-four years, and ever since she had her first lesbian sex at the age of nineteen, she's never felt the need to use anything other than what is readily available for her to make women feel good.
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yolanda garcia and her personal relationship with strap-ons
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Despite literally all of her best instincts screaming for her not to, Trinity lets out a long, drawn out sigh, and asks, “What are you doing next Friday?”
Victoria’s eyes narrow in suspicion. “Why?”
“We’re going on a field trip, Crash,” she says. “It’s time to make your debut at Dyke Night.”
Yolanda’s gonna be so pissed.
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trinity invites victoria to crash her and yolanda's night out at the gay bar
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So yeah, maybe Santos had Garcia’s driver card stuck to her bedroom mirror during her formative teenage years, and maybe that headshot of Garcia with the trademark no-nonsense look on her face played some small part in her discovering her sexuality. And maybe in the back of her mind, she was thinking of Garcia when she declared her major in mechanical engineering, when she was pulling all-nighters with the FSAE team, when she was doing her PhD at the University of Pittsburgh before everything fell apart, again. Whatever, it’s not weird.
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The Formula 1 2021 season is shaping up to be quite the blockbuster. Trinity Santos is just along for the ride.
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- Part 1 of tales from the pitt lane
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With a small smile, Garcia asks, “What time is it?”
Remnants of sleep still cling to the edges of her words, and as Santos revels in the way her husky voice thrums against her, she almost wishes that she could bear witness to this version of Garcia every morning.
It’s a wish that hovers shiftily in the corners of her conscious awareness, one that evaporates whenever she tries to look at it directly. But she allows its peripheral presence to persist, offers it a silent truce; and so that desire floats its way into her body and becomes manifest in the slightest of her movements instead.
“Early,” she murmurs, before returning to Garcia’s neck with her teeth so as to bite back any words that she wouldn’t be able to take back.
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garsantos morning sex -> shower sex. they’re still casual tho!!! obviously!!!! so stop asking them
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Trinity just wants to take a break in the quietest part of the hospital. But it seems like others have already snagged her coveted spot.
“You're insufferable.”
“Your behavior speaks volumes Dr. Garcia. It's honestly quite funny.”
“What the fuck is that supposed to mean, Baran?”
“Trinity responds to praise the same way whether it's coming from you or me. And that is driving you up a wall.”
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Trinity wants many things, quite desperately. She wants to do another fasciotomy, on her own this time, and also more chest tubes, and maybe a thoracotomy if she’s lucky. She wants to be good at her job, wants to prove that she belongs, wants to belong. She wants Robby’s approval, wants to never see Langdon again, and above all else she wants Garcia to respect her. She wants Garcia to want her as much as she wants Garcia.
I am reduced, she thinks, to a thing that wants Garcia.