#barantos au

[scout-spaeny]

wait wait hear me out, trinity santos moonlighting as a pizza delivery driver when she’s not on shift and suddenly delivering like 12 pizzas to some fancy place.

the boy who opens the door has big brown eyes, curly hair and a look on his face she’s seen hundreds of times before. she checks the name on the order. al-hashimi.

trinity smiles.

looks like someone got into her purse.

[vampiriclamb]

yes yes we've all heard the barantos as hannigram au and i love that dearly, but what about a barantos in the iwtv universe??? WHAT ABOUT BARANTOS AS DEVILSMINION?!?!?

[katstealskat]

ꜰʀɪᴇᴅ ɢʀᴇᴇɴ ᴛᴏᴍᴀᴛᴏᴇꜱ — ʙᴀʀᴀɴᴛᴏꜱ ᴀᴜ

“If there is such a thing as complete happiness, it is knowing that you are in the right place.”

( @scout-spaeny said it first ! )

[arkhamnist]

this is something that im working lmao +18 barantos.

princess!baran al hashimi and knight!trinity santos where the silence of the room is broken by the metallic echo of her armor hitting the floor, urgently stripped, leaving only the friction of leather and the pure heat of their bodies.

Trinity pushes Princess Baran against the heavy wooden table with her fingers sinking into her hair in the most possessive way she knows while devouring her with her mouth in a hungry kiss filled with the jealousy and pent-up desire that Santos herself felt when seeing all the possible suitors of her princess.

The princess's bodice hangs undone from her waist, and her skin burns under Santos' hands that run firmly along the curve of her hips, raising her to sit against the silk sheets of her room. Trinity pushes herself towards her and Baran lets out a low moan against her as his desperate, determined fingers slip between the softness of her thighs, finding her wet and utterly desperate for her.

She arches her back, while Trinity watches the blush of her cheeks as she buries her nails between her shoulders as she looks for you to keep doing what you do. Opening up for her completely as she feels how she moves her hips towards hers, rubbing her against hers unleashing a discharge that makes them arch their backs at the same time.

"More... oh harder, please," she begs with her voice broken as she loses her temper, as she wraps her legs tightly around her waist to nail her wanting more.

[scout-spaeny]

lord, i’m 500 miles from my home

or

barantos - long distance!au

“can you tell me where you are yet or is that still strictly need to know?”

baran laughs down the phone line. “still strictly need to know, I’m afraid. what I can tell you is that there’s sun and sand as far as the eye can see. wind isn’t too bad either.”

“good to know you’re getting your tan on, I suppose.”

“god knows i’m not going to get it in pittsburgh. how’s it faring over there?”

trinity picked at a loose thread on the toe of her sock, staring up at the ceiling. only god (and probably dennis) knew how many hours she had spent on this couch, speaking on the phone to baran when she could catch her.

it had been six and a half months since she’d last seen her, since she’d dropped her off at the airport and tried not to cry as they’d parted ways, promising to see each other again soon.

all she got to see of baran these days were grainy images on a laptop, sometimes an even grainier version on facetime.

still, she was grateful for small mercies. not everybody got to call their spouse when they were overseas.

“trinity?”

“sorry, still here.”

“are you doing okay?”

trinity’s mouth quirked, a half-smile that didn’t reach her eyes. “shouldn’t I be asking you that? you’re the one in an active war zone.”

even just the words make her feel a little sick. still, baran’s voice is bright and direct as always, no matter where she is.

“mm, maybe. but i’d still like to know about you.”

“i’m fine. weather’s shit. i miss you.”

baran hums down the phone. she sounded like she was walking somewhere. “i know you do.”

“the kid misses you too. he says hello. i took him to the museum today.”

“oh yeah? I miss him too, will you tell him?”

“of course.”

“what museum did you go to?”

“well, it was the aquarium. he really buzzed off the puffer fish.”

baran laughs. “god, I hope you’re not giving him any fancy ideas.”

trinity smiled. “too late.”

“well perhaps when i get back we could pay it another visit. i’d love to go with the both of you.”

“mm, i think he wants to try the space exhibit next. has ideas of being an astronaut.”

“oh wow.”

“i know.”

“sounds like a visit is in store. shall we go?”

“I don’t know.” trinity shifted uncomfortably. “the exhibit closes in a month. you might not be back by then. are they going to be sending you home any time soon?”

“I’m not sure, they don’t exactly give you an end date out here.”

“right.”

trinity’s mouth curled, a sinking feeling in her chest. she swallowed feeling the familiar bob in her throat.

some days she missed baran like she was losing oxygen. days where dennis had to softly knock on her bedroom door and sit with her until she could be coaxed out of bed. it was worse than having her heart ripped from her ribs.

she didn’t like letting that side show, especially to baran. her partner was doing a noble thing, working in an active war zone with msf. the last thing she needed was guilt over trinity’s tears.

the doorbell rang, jostling her from her thoughts.

“jesus christ.”

baran heard the bell down the phone line. “are you going to get that?”

“no,” trinity replied, settling herself further into the couch. “it’s probably just something huckleberry ordered. i want to keep talking to you.”

baran laughed. “I don’t mind.”

“no. they can fuck off.”

the doorbell rang again. trinity scowled.

“for fuck’s sake. some of us have loves of their life to talk to.”

baran made another amused little sound. there was a short silence.

“baran? are you still there?”

“are you sure you don’t want to get that?”

trinity blinked. caught the tone in baran’s voice. blinked again.

“what?”

the doorbell rang again.

“sounds like someone really needs you to open the door.”

“shut up.” she was getting up without thinking, her legs feeling like jelly. “you’re not.”

“hm?”

“you can’t be-“

trinity threw the front door open, mouth agape.

stood in the doorway, baran had a duffel bag over one shoulder and her phone to her ear. she grinned and hung up when trinity gasped.

“hello, my love.”

at first, trinity couldn’t move. her body and her brain were trying to catch up, fighting down her thundering heart and the tears stinging her eyes.

“you’re here.” she whispered.

“i’m here, eshgham.”

the second baran dumped her duffel on the ground, trinity threw her arms around her partner’s neck and promptly burst into tears.

no matter how many times she went away, baran always stuck to her promise.

and always came home.

[scout-spaeny]

need olympian!trinity at her second olympics at probably the darkest time of her life. she hates her life, hates her sport, hates herself - but this is all she knows. it’s all she can do to avoid the inevitable.

journalist!baran has been assigned to shadow the us gymnastics team for the entirety of the event, tasked to write a story that will hopefully inspire the next generation of us athletes.

it’s safe to say trinity is less than forthcoming.

and baran is going to have quite the story on her hands…

[scout-spaeny]

Forgive me I’m four beers in and out with the Not Girlfriend but dancer4dancer barantos has me like

former hiphop group dancer turned celebrity singer/actor (idk) trinity santos gets paired with pro!dancer baran al-hashimi for some television dance show because she needs to do anything but rehab.

this, somehow, will sacrifice less dignity.

except baran’s making her fall back in love with dancing and is actually helping her to look after herself again.

and trinity’s getting baran to take the damn stick out of her ass.

…among other things.

[scout-spaeny]

pro ice hockey! barantos - pt2(?) - sports

there’s perks to dating a pro hockey player, baran finds.

free team merchandise.

fancy dinners.

tickets to all the games.

athleisure wear deals (thank you lululemon)

the occasional tour of the country.

there’s even more perks to dating trinity santos.

despite her fame, being one of the country’s top-ranked forwards, trinity is remarkably grounded.

she’s not one of those players that is plastered across every billboard in america advertising yoghurt or sanitary products for a bit of extra cash, no. when trinity’s not practicing with her team, she’s still usually doing something hockey-related.

doing something hockey-related usually means practicing with omid these days.

baran doesn’t know where she finds the time.

between her own training sessions, game schedules and team press conferences, trinity always makes time on the ice for him. whether it’s drills, shooting practice or simply just a little glide around the rink, she never complains, rejects or disappoints him.

she helps him get his kit properly fitted, shows him how to tape up his stick and repair his skates, even gets him his own penguins jersey with his name and number on it for his birthday.

baran gets her own jersey too.

black and yellow. al-hashimi. number 86.

it’s one of her most prized possessions.

she doesn’t know how she got so lucky.

trinity doles out love, real love, as if it’s nothing. baran sees how she treats omid, how she treats her team, the unconditional respect she gives them.

when parker gets smeared up against the glass by a rival from an opposing team, trinity drops her gloves and body slams the next one before they can even think of doing it again. when javadi gets put on her ass and actually cries, trinity covers her front and wipes away her tears before the cameras get stuck in her face.

with baran, it’s no different.

with baran, she leaves the hockey on the rink.

when she gets home, whether that’s actually home or whichever hotel they’ve been staying at for a match, she dumps her duffel at the door and makes her life about baran again.

“you smell nice,” she murmurs into the back of baran’s neck, wrapping her arms around her girlfriend as she cooks dinner.

baran’s wearing her hockey jersey and shorts, her usual choice of sleepwear these days, and she smiles comfortably in trinity’s strong arms.

“how was practice?”

“sore. my body aches.”

baran pouts, her face fond and teasing. “poor baby. did you see the masseuse?”

“hm, no, parker bagged her before i could. figured you’d be better anyway.”

“I do have very skilled hands, it has been said.”

“yes,” trinity grins and nips up at her ear. “it certainly has.”