s

garcia blowing off extra surgery steam in a dark supply closet with trinity, railing her from behind with her strap, panting and biting against the back of her neck. you’re so being so good for me baby, yeah. this is what you’re made for. giving me what I need. just like that, fuck…

trinity with a hand on the back of her neck, pressed up against the wall, mewling like a damn kitten under the grip, trying to find anything she can to hold onto. please, baby, please. too much, too big…ah…

garcia only smirking and going harder. you can take it, you can take it until I’m done…

baran that worships more than she fucks, loves nothing more than to get on her knees and bury her face between trinity’s thighs, make her come over and over, but she also lets trinity pin her up against a bathroom stall and take her how she wants, no matter how desperate or rough.

oh baby, you’re making mommy feel so good, just like that, doing so well f’me, f’mama…

trinity doesn’t mean to pit them against each other, don’t mean to be lying to both of them it’s just…she likes the range they give her. yolanda, who fucks her until she’s sobbing and begging. baran, who kisses and soothes and cradles her until she’s boneless and happy.

neither of them can do what the other does, not in the way she wants them to.

keeping them apart is easy. they work on different floors, neither likes to do pda at work, they don’t even cross paths.

it’s at home when the slip-up finally comes.

baran practically invites herself over, kissing at trinity’s neck before she’s barely even got over the threshold.

she’s desperate, hands all over trinity, mommy needs this baby, needs you, please, pulling at her hair, her clothes, her-

she stops.

draws back.

takes in the bruises up and down trinity’s ribs, the marks littering her boobs, the distinct bite mark on her collarbone.

she touches them, her face hot and seething.