squidtortellini
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Summary
After the shift from hell, Trinity Santos has no intention of going home alone.
So she invites Mel King out for drinks, picks the angriest karaoke song she can find, and sends Yolanda Garcia one petty photo from the bar she knows Garcia will recognize.
She does not actually expect Garcia to show up.
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Garcia takes a swig of her beer and levels her with a heady gaze, but stays silent as her free hand gently tugs at the baby hairs that fan Santos’s neck.
Unnerved and despite herself, Santos asks, “How was your Fourth?”
Garcia averts her eyes with a turn of her head, hand coming to rest on her forehead, nearly meeting the now prominent vein there; Santos laments the loss of her touch at her nape.
“It was fine,” she says tersely. “I assume yours went well?” She meets her eyes again with pursed lips and a bored stare.
Santos takes a breath at how she’s somehow upset Garcia already, how it would be laughable if she manages to drive her away for the second night in a row.
or
santos sends garcia some petty drunken texts on the night of the fourth, but garcia still hits her up the next day
Bookmarked by squidtortellini
05 Jul 2026
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i'm cool and forgiving, i'll take what you're giving by theyellowumbrella
Fandoms: The Pitt (TV)
17 Jun 2026
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“Tell me who’s in charge.”
What a silly question, she thinks. Sometimes, it feels like Garcia is in charge of her whole life: she eats to have energy for Garcia, she goes to work to see Garcia. She walks and talks and breathes and laughs just on the off chance that Garcia might see her and decide she wants her again, just for the night.
But that probably isn’t a sexy thing to say. That would probably have Garcia withdrawing entirely, would give her questions, and Trinity thinks if she doesn’t get her cock in her in the next ten seconds she might genuinely die.
or:
garcia calls on the 5th of july. trinity answers.
Bookmarked by squidtortellini
02 Jul 2026
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“I’m not a fucking Uber driver, Trinity,” is the first thing she hears when she picks up. Brilliant. So it’s a Trinity kind of night, then.
“Great.” She takes another draw of her vape, forcing herself to focus on the overwhelming sweetness of sour watermelon rather than the thinly-veiled needle of irritation that pulses through Yolanda’s words. “So, you’re not gonna charge me fifty bucks for a two mile drive, then?”
A sigh. If she closes her eyes, she can picture her expression: brow pinched, jaw clenched, neck vein activated. She’s probably rubbing at the bridge of her nose right now, exasperated as she always seems to be when Trinity’s involved these days.
or:
trinity and mel need a ride home from karaoke. who else is she supposed to call?
Series
- Language:
- English
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Bookmarked by squidtortellini
02 Jul 2026