Lipstick & Pearls

If one were to ask at the PTMC's emergency department, at least 90% of the people there (counting only the recurring patients, and the doctors) would be able to say they knew who Dr. Trinity Santos was. Should the following inquiry be then about her personality, the consequent answers and the faces accompanying them would be less than promising. She was a damn good doctor with a difficult personality, and she did not try to hide it. Let the people think what they want, she would say to her fairly recent best friend. What do I care how I look doing my job?

Perhaps for this reason, when you arrived at the ER, all smiles and a sparkle in your eyes that would surely disappear after your first week, everyone thought the same: Trinity Santos would hate your guts. As if trying to put this theory to practice, both Dana and Robby had decided to put the two of you in as many cases together, as if they were teachers choosing an entertaining sitting plan.

You had been more than happy at the prospect, always eager to make friends wherever you went. Work should be a place where you actually want to go, if not for the job itself, at least for the people there, was your motto. Blissful ignorance kept you from seeing or noticing the silent bets passed around by basically everyone in the ED.

Working with Santos proved to be way less eventful than everyone thought it would be. The two of you somehow complemented each other pretty well, not too many words necessary between you to be understood. In fact, sometimes it seemed as if Trinity had no interest whatsoever in talking with you more than the usual pleasantries you gave to an acquaintance or colleague you saw every day.

Which is why it surprised both Dennis and Victoria when Trinity approached you out of her own volition 12 hours in of a grueling shift that surely you would feel on your feet for the next twelve. The central hub was calm, relative as everything was in an ER. Everyone was either doing their charting or taking a rest while the night shift arrived so handoffs could be done, and you were no exception, munching on a protein bar while talking animatedly about a particular case to your coworkers.

"Hey, Bubbles," a voice rang behind you and you turned around, throwing a smile at Trinity. That was a new nickname.

"I gather you're Buttercup then?" You said with a soft smile, missing by a hair both Dennis's and Victoria's wide open mouths.

"Duh." Trinity swayed on the balls of her feet, hands in her pocket. A smirk crossed her face. "Huckleberry can be our Mojo Jojo."

"Hey–" Dennis's complaint was swiftly cut by Victoria jabbing her elbow on his side. Trinity just rolled her eyes.

"There's no way you know what The Powerpuff Girls are."

"I'm not that much of an idiot!" Dennis's complaint was once again punctuated by an elbow on his side. He was going to get a bruise at this point.

"So your parents let you watch a show with a drag queen crab demon and not one with a sponge cooking?" Trinity rolled her eyes. "Don't answer that. I don't care." She turned back to you. "Anyways, can I talk to you for a moment?"

Your eyes widened and you found yourself nodding before you were aware of it at all. "Uh, yeah sure. Right now?"

"Sure. I'm all up to date with my charting." She frowned and pointed at the amused gazes of her two friends. "I am." Her eyes looked down at you. "So?"

"Yeah, of course! Let me grab my things." Your bag was ready to go by your side and you swung the strap over your head and rested it on your shoulder.

The ambulance bay would have to do, Trinity thought. It was getting too warm for her liking in the ER. All courtesy of your presence, of course.

Finding a nook where a somewhat private conversation could be held, Trinity found herself leaning on the wall, the solidness of it helping to ground her body and mind, which felt like they were going to float away like the smoke of a cigarette (not that she smoked).

"You alright?" Her thoughts found an anchor in your voice and she lowered her eyes to find your concerned face. She felt a strange mix of relief at that expression being directed at her, and guilt for the exact same reason.

"Yeah," she choked out. "Yeah, I'm fine."

The unimpressed glance you sent in her direction was so endearing that Trinity felt as if her heart was going to explode. She wondered what that would look like. Biting her lip, she shook her head and looked down to her sneakers.

"Actually no, I lied." She swallowed thickly. "I'm ass at this feelings stuff. Ask Fuckleberry, he'll tell you. He's been on my ass all this time about how I should just suck it up and talk to you, but then I look at you and you're so pretty that I immediately get cold feet."

"Pause," you raised your hand and she looked up in panic. "You think I'm pretty?"

She snorted. "Bordering on adorable, to be honest."

After her confession that left a lot to desire, any reaction would have been fair game in Trinity's perspective. Anything except for the bright smile that filled your face with that same light she always found herself attracted to like a moth to a flame.

"Really?" Your tone was one of awe. How could you not see what she saw?

Trinity nodded, not trusting her voice. She hoped you would understand. And you did, if you walking the few steps that separated you was any sign of it. Your hands found hers and she found out she didn't want to part with that feeling ever again.

"Can I kiss you?" She blurted out and immediately blushed.

"Of course."

The kiss would go into Trinity's metaphorical vault of most cherished stuff in her mind. It was not groundbreaking and she had definitely had had more heated ones in the past. However, it had your signature softness, and that made it more important than anything else. Unhurried, matching her pace so that she wouldn't be left behind. She could cry, actually.

When you pulled away, a soft flush covered her cheeks, which made her all the more endearing. "Wow," was the only thing she could squeak out.

"Good?" You looked earnest.

"Fuck yeah," she laughed. Before you could completely pull away, she gathered her newfound courage.

"Do you want to grab dinner?" She had been about to invite you over to her flat but she felt that was going too fast when you had just had your first kiss.

"Sure! You got any ideas?"

As the two of you walked over to your car, you didn't notice Dennis and Victoria observing the whole scene from behind an ambulance. The younger girl was almost buzzing, most likely in anticipation of all the money she was going to get come next shift.

You're too engrossed on the screen to notice Trinity coming to lean by one of the computers in the station, obsessing with charting ever since Doctor Al-Hashimi took over as an attending.

She looks at you amusedly when you don't seem to even notice her presence. Fishing the receipt of the breakfast she had earlier out of her pocket, she rolls it into a ball in her hand before throwing it directly at you.

You barely flinch when it hits you, too used to her antics by now and unbothered by them — if not a bit endeared.

"Hey, dork." Santos calls, grin full of teasing when you scowl at her.

"Doctor Santos." You acknowledge with fake professionalism, fingers pressing to your lips in attempt to hide your inevitable small smile.

"What are we up to?" She askes with what she tries to come off as boredom, but that you know is just an excuse to talk to you.

"I am working, dunno about you." You retort playfully, glancing up at her without moving your head. "Kid broke his arm a few weeks ago and i have to take the cast off."

"Cool." Trinity hums, though you're not sure she's even listening to you properly. It might have to do with the intentional use of one of her favourite shirts of yours under your scrubs.

"You?" You question.

"What?" She seems to snap of her daze, neck turning slightly red with being caught.

"What are you up to?" You indulge in her conversation, chin coming to rest on your palm.

"Actually," She comes lean on your table table, "Check this out, some idiot comes in with a bad looking neck strain because as it turns he was trying to look at someone's phone in the train"

"Really?" You chuckle with raised eyebrows.

"Yep. Way more interesting than yours, i win." Her foot kicks your chair slightly and you push her arm with just as much force.

"It's a competition?"

"Absolutely." Trinity says triumphally, chin jutting out just a bit in a way you find too adorable.

You sit in silence for a minute, surprised to notice your girlfriend lingering by your table. You notice the way she nervously plays with her hands, exactly like would when she has something to say. So you wait for her to muster the courage to say whatever she needs to.

"Hey so i was thinking..." She pulls your attention from your ipad back to her, giving her a curious but reassuring look. "Maybe you could like come over after our shift is over? You know, have dinner and watch a stupid movie or whatever."

Her words bring relief to you, heart warm with the knowledge that she was so nervous to simply ask you over.

"Of course." You answer warmly, fingers hitching to take hold of her anxious hands.

"Okay. Cool." The doctor nods, gulping to play it off as she stands straight again. "You can also sleepover. If you want." Her eyes don't meet yours as she adds.

"Sounds really good." Your fingers tap the table as you throw her a sweet smile. "But only if i get to make dinner. Your food is awful."

Santos scoffs, trapping her bottom lip between her teeth as she pretends to be offended. "Sure, chef."

You shoo her away with the receipt she threw at you a moment ago, watching as she finally decides to get up and catch up on her charting.

But she's only two steps away when her figure rushes to turn back to you, only glancing around for one second before grabbing your face with one hand and clumsily kissing your lips.

Your fingers come to grab at the front of her scrubs, thorn between pull away and preventing her from doing so. But before you make up your mind your girlfriend pulls away, walking towards her table like nothing happened.

"Are you crazy?!" You whisper-yell, hands left in the air with shock.

Trinity laughs, shrugging as her fingers start tapping away on the keyboard. She seems pleased with her work, lips a darker shade of pink from the hasty kiss.

"Hey kid, what the hell are you doing?" Dana interrupts the moment, eyeing the both of you but not acknowledging anything. "Got a patient waiting for you, don't ya?"

"On it, sorry." You raise your hands in surrender as you slide of your chair.

Santos looks like she's going to quip something as you're walking by her chair, but interrupts herself with a subtle wince. Worry insights itself immediately on your stomach, stopping on your tracks. "You okay?"

She clears her throat, "Yeah, period's just kicking my ass." Her voice comes out in a grumble, as if to hide the vulnerability she feels for opening up to you — even if for something so small.

You soften at her, resting a hand on the back of her chair. "I'll make you some tea when i'm done with this." And then you're off to your task.

Trinity can't help but appreciate your words, throwing you a thankful look. You don't fuss over it, don't make a big deal out of it. She couldn't feel more understood.

Suddenly she doesn't feel like she minds Whitaker telling her she looks at you like an idiot in love. Because it might just be the only thing she's sure of.

Later she finds a sealed cup on top of her paperwork, a tiny smiley face drawn on it. She feels like an absolute loser for the fact that it brings out a smile of her own.

The day goes by as fast as it can in the hospital, and you find that at the end of it you're more excited than tired. The realization that it's your first time sleeping over at Trinity's house makes you giddy as you're pulling your things from your locker.

She finds you waiting outside after she comes out a bit later than you, dark hair down and falling over her shoulders smoothly. Her bag slung over her shoulder, dark navy jacket that you insist makes her even more cuddly and face glowing under the streetlights.

You don't miss the way her expression lightens up when she spots you leaning against a wall with your eyes already on her, as if your own light is the source of hers.

The walk to the car is comfortably silent, slightly mandatory to decompress from the loud ER. As she drives, you make sure to pull her free hand to your lap, aware that she enjoys it even without the courage of initiating it.

When you arrive at her apartment, you make sure to send her off to a warm shower, insisting it's exactly where you want her and promising to have some pasta ready as soon as she's out of it. Trinity relents easily, eager to get out of her work clothes and take away the smell of hospital, cramps making her move slower.

She's back before you know it, large sweats thrown on her legs and a large t-shirt that's wet on the shoulders because of her freshly washed hair. After pouring two cups of wine, you both find yourselves eating your bowls of pasta in front of the tv —watching a sitcom that you insisted would make her mood better.

Which is exactly why you find yourself leaning against her couch cushions with a full stomach, half of Trinity's body thrown across your lap.

It's not necessarily unusual to receive this type of affection from her, at least not now. You'd never believe it months ago if someone told you there was this whole other side of her.

Now you relish in the comfort of it, fingers running through her hair that you brush and dried earlier and scratching her scalp with your nails softly.

"He absolutely cheated on her and she shouldn't get back to him." She grumbles from your lap, weirdly interested in the drama going on in the tv. "Besides, who the hell dates an idiot named Ross?"

"Sure, love." You agree with a chuckle, hand stopping its movement on her head to come and rest on the back of the couch.

She doesn't seem to mind it at first, lips pulled into a concentrated pout as she looks at the screen. But after a moment her head leans closer into your lap, hitting your stomach in request that you amusedly ignore.

"Baby." She calls for you without looking up, voice sweet dripping with honey.

You have no choice but to comply pulling your hand back onto her hair and twisting some strands with your thumb. As if not satisfied, Trinity grabs your other hand with hers. Guiding it to her stomach, you understand the assignment and gently massage it with pressure right above the waistline of her sweatpants.

Your girlfriend hums in appreciation, hand still atop of yours and tracing shapes with her fingers.

Without strength to hold back, you lean to press a peck on the corner of her lips. Her face turn as you do, capturing your lips in hers for a kiss that leaves you wanting more. And she knows it just with a look to your face.

She's sitting up in a flash, peering at you with need. "Can i?" And she's already leaning in, lips smashing into yours eagerly.

Her hands cup your face to pull it as close as possible, connected lips turning you into one only. You grab at both sides of her waist, fingers bunching the fabric of her shirt into your hand as you continue to relish in the taste of wine that lingers in her mouth.

Frustrated at not being as close she wants to, Trinity moves to your lap with you now trapped between her legs that press on the couch beside your hips. A noise leaves your throat, giving her the opportunity to deepen the kiss as one of her hands tangles on the hair at the back of your head and tilts it up.

Her body practically falls onto yours, tongue exploring your mouth like a thousand times before — every time more avid than the one before.

One of your hands slips inside her shirt where it rides up on her lower back, slowly tracing up her spine and exploring every inch of skin you can find as the other grips her waist to pull it flush to yours. You can't help but moan when she complies quickly with a grind of her hips.

"Fuck." You breath out, lips shiny with her as you move your ministrations to her jaw.

Your girlfriend is quick to tilt her head to give your access to her neck, your mouth pressing wet and messy kisses along her throat and all the way to the spot under her ear. You nip gently on the side of her neck, kissing the marks right after leaving them.

"God, i love you." The words leave her mouth before she's able to think them through, immediately freezing you on the spot.

Your mouth is slightly ajar as you lift it from her skin, eyes wide as you observe her every expression. "What?" It comes out quiet, your voice feeling rusty.

Her throat bobs as she swallows nothing, and you can already feel the wall she's about to build. But you fight it, steading her in your lap when she makes move to leave.

"Did you mean it?" You question with adoration, searching her eyes when she refuses to look at you. "Trin." The call is gentle enough for her to come back to you

"Course." She mumbles like it's obvious, which it is. But it's nice to know it anyway.

"I love you." You reciprocate feeling giddy.

"Yeah, don't let it get to your head." She rolls her eyes with a smirk, mouth close to yours as she speaks.

You're too emersed in your own bubble to notice the door opening and closing.

Dennis steps inside the apartment with soft steps, aware of how late it is and how he doesn't want to annoy his grumpy roommate by waking her up at this hour after a day of work.

What he doesn't expect is to walk in to the living room to the sight of her making out with you on their shared couch, sitting right on your lap and unaware of his presense.

"Oh my god!" He exclaims in panic, heat rushing up his body and turning his cheek into a deep shade of red.

You both scramble away from each other, startled by the sudden presence in the living room. Trinity throws him an annoyed look, as if having forgotten he also lives here.

"Are you just gonna stand there, dumbass?" She asks with a roll of her eyes.

"I- No! I'm so sorry." He scrambles to cover his eyes as if he's seen something obscene and rushes to his bedroom, awkwardly greeting you when you throw him a warm smile as if to tell him it's okay.

Santos groans in frustration once the door of his room is closed, "Stupid Fuckleberry." Her hands rub at her face.

"I think he's sweet." You reason, chuckling as you take in what just happened.

"Cockblocker is what he is." She retorts, slumping beside you on the couch.

You raise your eyebrows with a grin, "Poor baby."

"Shut up." She shuts down your teasing.

"You love me." You affirm with a softer tone than intended, pressing one last kiss to her cheek. And the worst part is she can't deny it now.

Later that night you fall asleep on her bed that is a bit too small for the both of you, mouth pressed to her shoulder and arm thrown across her stomach.

Trinity chuckles, “Perfect. Now we’re gonna ramp it up. Are you ready?” She’s staring at you through the mirror, gaze heavy and intense. You’d look away if her stare didn’t make your cunt pulse.

You bite your lip, “I’m ready.”

Trinity kisses your neck. Her fingers leave your clit, and you whine. She clicks her tongue, “None of that.” She slaps your clit and you gasp. “You’re supposed to be learning, remember?”

You squirm, “I’m sorry.” Part of you wants to mouth back, just to feel her hand on you again. “I’m ready. I promise.”

Trinity licks her lips, “Of course you are. My sweet little intern, always so eager.”

She presses two fingers to your slit. “Remember down here?” Trinity pushes them in agonizingly slowly, and your mind goes blank. You nod, and Trinity tuts, “Words, baby.”

“I do.”

“Good girl,” Trinity begins to move her fingers, curling them up against your g-spot, just how she demonstrated earlier. “Such a fast learner. I’ll make sure to put it in your evaluation.”

Trinity’s free hand slides up to your breast. You already had your lesson about that, so she doesn’t comment as her fingers pinch your pebbled nipple.

“Now let’s put it all together. I’m going to finger you down here, and at the same time I’m going to-“ Trinity’s thumb lands on your clit, massaging it in time with the fingers in your pussy. “-Rub your pretty clit.”

You gasp, trying to squeeze your thighs shut, but Trinity’s legs hooked around yours stops you. “Keep those legs spread, I want you seeing what I’m doing.” You force your eyes from the reflection of her stern face back to her hand on you. “Tell me what you’re feeling.”

“Uh…” Words are becoming hard. It’s been a long time since someone has touched you, let alone someone who knows what they’re doing. “I feel nice.”

“Nice?”

“Yeah… nice.”

Trinity’s fingers slow, massaging your g-spot in practiced motions. Pressure is very quickly building in your gut. “That’s it?”

“No, I…” You gulp. “I think I’m gonna come…”

“Good,” Trinity says, “That’s good. I’d be a bad teacher if you didn’t, baby. Tell me what you need? That’s another lesson— check in with your partner.”

“More on… on my clit.” You tack on, “Please.”

“Manners, I like it.” That’s the last thing you process, because Trinity ramps up the intensity, coaxing your orgasm out of you by the deft pad of her finger.

You barely manage to stutter out, “I’m- I’m gonna—“ And then, you’re coming, riding Trinity’s fingers like there’s no tomorrow. You sing her praises, moaning and gasping as the world around you disappears. All that matters is Trinity’s solid presence behind you and her hands on you.

When your orgasm wanes, Trinity pulls her fingers gently out of you. She gives your clit one last pat, and you jump, moaning softly. Trinity shushes you, kissing just below your ear, and asks, “How was that?”

“Informative,” you slur.

She laughs, adjusting your boneless body so you’re facing her. Trinity kisses you softly on the lips. “Rest up,” Trinity says. “Tomorrow’s lesson is oral. There’ll be a hands-on exam afterwards.”

“Hands-on or mouth-on?”

Tonight is one of those nights, you're sprawled out on the couch with Trinity, resting against her side while a movie plays. Though, while he's taken a hit or two, you haven't touched the unopened cider that sits on the coffee table. Instead, you're eyeing the pen in her hand.

Eventually, you decide to just go for it.

"Baby," you say, hand trailing up her bare thigh, toying with the hem of her boxers. "Could I try some?"

She frowns, pausing with her pen halfway to her mouth. She points it at you, "My vape?"

You nod, biting your lip, "Yeah."

"Why?"

"Uh," you shrug, "I'm just curious, I guess."

Trinity makes a face, clearly thinking it through. She eventually shrugs, handing the vape over, “Knock yourself out.” As you lift it to your lips, she quickly clarifies, “But, like, only a few hits for now. I don’t want you greening out.”

Thirty minutes later, it's safe to say that you are high. You hit the pen only a few times, but you’re feeling fucking great. You’ve melted into the couch, laying almost entirely on top of your girlfriend.

The movie is still on, but you’re only half paying attention. There’s a much more present issue making itself known between your legs. With every stroke of Trinity’s hand up and down your back, you can swear you feel more wetness flood your panties.

Eventually, it becomes too much. You squeeze your legs together, biting your lip to stop yourself from whimpering. Unfortunately, you’re not as subtle as you think. Trinity sits up, despite her own high, she’s clearly worried. You smile as you stare at her face.

"Are you okay? Hungry?" She asks, "I can go grab you something to eat. Or water– shit, yeah, you're probably thirsty."

Your smile somehow stretches wider. "No," you hum.

She tilts her head, "You sure? I don't mind getting you something."

Truthfully, you could eat and you could go for some water, but the thought of Trinity leaving you even for a moment sounds awful.

"Baby," you confess, "I'm horny. Like really horny."

Trinity laughs, but before you can get embarrassed she pulls you closer until you’re face-to-face. “Really? Getting high gets my girl all needy?” She teases.

Heat rushes to your face, you find yourself nodding as her words go straight to your pussy. “Yeah,” you whine. “I think so.”

Trinity chuckles. You lean forward to kiss her, but your girlfriend stops you with a hand on your chest.

“Before we do this,” she starts, voice soft but serious. “No sex tonight.”

You pout, “But—“

“Nope,” Trinity clicks her tongue. “No sex. This is your first time getting high, you need to ride it out and get used to it before I’ll even consider it.” Before you can get too disappointed, she adds, “But making out is fair game, babe.”

“Really?”

“Really.”

“Fuck yeah.”