baran al-hashimi who sometimes just needs her girlfriend.
needs her to be soft and obedient and perfect, just for her, needs her to do what she wants. whether that’s at work or on a date or at home, it’s not really up to trinity.
she’ll nuzzle up against trinity’s neck, nudge her into the position she wants her in over the kitchen counter, gently pry apart her legs, push her sweats down. hands firm but not bruising, control there but not forceful.
“baran, what are you-“
“ssh, baby, mommy needs this. needs you.”
she’ll push into her so gently, delighting in the soft little whimpers she gets from her perfect girl, how well she takes her, how good she stretches out for her.
the sex isn’t gentle but it’s not rough either, trinity just has to stand there and enjoy what baran gives her, enjoy the soft hands squeezing at her jaw, her neck, her breasts, everywhere they can find. it’s loving, if a little quiet.
baran can pant in her ear all she wants, grunt little huffs of exertion until she gets there, until she gets trinity there with her.
“c’mon baby, you’ve been so good, need you to cum for me, need you to let me cum inside.”
taglist: @sepisbabe @lotties-ashwagandha and @queer-of-hearts-rerun — fic based on your barantos prompt about shaking off a bad day! super soft smut
Trinity’s keys are loud in the door, loud when she tosses them in the dish on the entryway table, and loud when her shoes tumble aggressively against the closet door. Baran hears her bag tossed somewhere, the stomping pad of her feet, and a loud groan as she rounds the corner.
She wrestles down a fond smile at Trinity’s antics, who has never been afraid to express her disdain for something — who tries to hide it sometimes to be polite, but it just bleeds into her whole body anyway. Baran has always been so careful about which emotions she lets people see, so Trinity is such a wonderful breath of fresh air (even when she sort of grimace-smiles at Kaveh’s earnest but barely edible attempt at making the three of them dinner).
Trinity — still in scrubs — drags herself to the couch where Baran is lounging and flops down on top of her. Baran barely has time to move the medical journal she’s reading out of the way of Trinity’s body and huffs as the air is punched from her lungs from the sudden weight of her.
“I had such a bad fucking day,” Trinity groans, burying her face in Baran’s neck and digging her hands under Baran’s waist to hold her. Baran drapes her free arm around Trinity’s back, scraping her nails up and down Trinity’s spine.
It’s almost 9:30, so Baran doesn’t doubt it. She’d texted something curt around 7:30: be over late. big mva
And then 20 minutes later: is that okay? sorry
Baran smiled at it and replied: yes, love. can’t wait to see you.
“I’m sorry, azizam. Do you want to talk about it?” she asks, her voice lilting as she tips her chin down to kiss the side of Trinity’s head.
“No,” she mutters, her lips against Baran’s neck. Not kissing, just there, soft and warm as her breath fans out across Baran’s skin. Baran adjusts so their legs are staggered instead of thighs pressed to thighs and then brings the medical journal back up, resting her wrist against Trinity’s shoulder blade.
“Okay, well I’m here if you do,” she offers quietly, raising her free hand to gently tug Trinity’s hair out of its ponytail. She sighs when Baran starts massaging her scalp, which is always so tender after a long day.
Baran refocuses on her medical journal as Trinity slowly relaxes on top of her, each muscle group releasing one by one until it’s just her shoulders and her neck. Trinity isn’t always like this after a shift, but when she is she always comes right to Baran for attention. Which is a small miracle in itself. It had taken Trinity months to let herself be cared for even like this, in what Baran considered such a small and easy way. And sometimes she’s still uncomfortable being doted on, so Baran approaches these moments with forced nonchalance. If she had her way, she would be smothering Trinity in kisses and sweet nothings right now.
“Did you eat already?” Trinity asks, her voice sounding heavier, reverberating through Baran’s skin.
“Mmm. But I saved you a plate. It’s in the fridge. Chicken parm,” she mumbles, her eyes skimming a line on the page. It’s getting harder and harder to focus with Trinity’s warm weight on top of her. Then Trinity lets out something between a groan and moan that surprises Baran, and she raises her brow, glancing down at Trinity, who has her eyes closed. “I didn’t realize you had such strong feelings about chicken parmesan."
“I need that biblically,” Trinity moans openly now, and Baran laughs, which shakes through both of them on the couch.
“Did you eat anything today?” Trinity nestles into Baran, squeezing her tighter, hips pressing against hips, nose digging into Baran’s pulse. She loves when Trinity is clingy.
“A couple granola bars,” she admits reluctantly, knowing Baran has chastised her for this before. “But I knew I’d be coming over to a delicious meal prepared by the best girlfriend in the world.” Baran hums.
“You’re lucky you’re cute like this,” she warns, finally setting the journal down on the floor and wrapping her other arm around Trinity. She squeezes her once before sliding her fingers against the nape of her neck in a slow, deep massage. This gets the last stubborn muscle groups in Trinity’s body to finally release, and she sighs, boneless on top of her girlfriend.
“I missed you today,” Trinity mumbles, her voice doing something it only does rarely, all high and unsure. Baran can feel the day on Trinity’s back weighing her down now that she’s allowing herself to be vulnerable, even a little. Baran tangles her fingers in Trinity’s hair and holds it at the root, grounding.
“Me, too,” she sighs. “I went for a walk in that park we like this afternoon. The sparrow’s eggs finally hatched. I took some photos for you.” Trinity picks her head up, looking wounded. Baran keeps her hand in her hair.
“You didn’t send them to me? I coulda used a pick-me-up today,” she pouts.
“Oh, baby,” Baran coos, lifting her head just enough to kiss Trinity, a soft press of lips. “I felt so guilty not texting you right away, but I wanted to watch your face when you saw them. You just light up when you see baby birds. It’s really sweet.”
Trinity’s face opens and her eyes soften in a way that took Baran time to notice and even longer to learn what it meant. It’s so subtle, so monumental. I love you. I love you. I love you.
“You should feel guilty. No more walks without me,” she mumbles, settling back down in the crook of Baran’s neck. Baran’s heart swells.
“Next it’ll be no more going to the gym. No more grocery runs or smoothie outings,” she lists off things that Trinity loves doing with her. “You gonna keep me locked up here whenever you’re gone?”
“No, you’d probably like it too much,” Trinity says, smiling against Baran’s skin, who rolls her eyes but doesn’t deny it.
She takes a deep breath, kissing Trinity’s temple, who nuzzles closer at the touch. She kisses Baran’s neck, a quick peck once, twice. Then her lips press in, soft and warm. Baran closes her eyes, her fingers still tangled in Trinity’s hair. She’s suddenly very aware of Trinity’s chest pressed to hers, a sliver of their stomachs’ touching where Trinity’s dramatic flop had ridden up their shirts. Hips pressed. Trinity’s thigh between Baran’s. Baran’s thigh between Trinity’s.
“Baran,” Trinity breathes, her mouth open against her skin. It isn’t a question or a request, just her lover’s name whispered as a promise between them. Baran’s hand slides across Trinity’s shoulder blade as Trinity’s hips twitch down. Heat swirls in Baran and pools low. Her core muscles tighten, and Trinity sucks lightly on her throat.
“Trin,” Baran whispers back, a promise, a reassurance. I’m here. I love you. Trinity grinds down with more force, and Baran spreads her legs and braces her heel so Trinity can find more purchase.
She gasps into Baran’s ear, and it sends a hot shiver down her spine. Turning her head, she meets Trinity’s waiting mouth, open and wet, noses brushing, cheeks warm. Baran cradles her jaw, other hand sliding down to guide Trinity’s hips, which are growing more urgent by the moment. She’s working herself up quick, little whines falling into Baran’s mouth.
“That’s it, honey,” Baran sighs against her, lips brushing but not quite kissing, as Trinity drags and presses her cunt to Baran’s flexed thigh over and over, hot and damp through her scrubs.
Trinity kisses her harshly, her hand palming Baran’s clothed chest. It pulls the first moan of the night from Trinity, breathy but deep. Baran arches into her, heart thudding.
“Oh, fuck. Need you,” she whines, hips stuttering.
“Where, baby, I’m yours,” Baran replies quickly, automatically, pupils blown and locked on Trinity, who has her eyes so deliciously, softly closed, lips swollen.
Trinity presses her hand down on Baran’s knee, and she drops her leg. Hand practically shaking, she takes Baran’s hand on her hip and directs it to the tie of her scrubs. Baran’s breath catches, her eyes flickering from her pants to Trinity’s face. When their eyes meet, she sees the need, the ache of it spilling from her. Fuck.
In one fluid motion, Baran pulls the tie loose and slides her hand down Trinity’s pants, under her boxers. God, Baran loves it when she wears boxers. Trinity gasps, pressing herself back down against Baran when her fingers meet slick, swollen heat.
“My handsome girl,” Baran drawls, and Trinity bucks, panting into her neck. She’s already close. Baran doesn’t tease her, drawing quick firm circles over her clit in the way she knows makes her squirm.
“Baran, baby, baby. God. Fuck, yes,” Trinity moans, anchoring herself to Baran, clinging on with wet kisses to her neck as the feeling builds and crests. Baran moans when Trinity cums on her fingers, loud and broken in her ear. She works her through it, legs shaking, slowing, slowing. Kissing her cheek, her temple, lacing free fingers into her hair and holding.
“You did so good, eshgham. You are so pretty when you cum,” Baran whispers, slowly easing out of Trinity’s pants. Some choked sound leaves her, and she sinks her hips back down against Baran’s thigh, raising her head enough to see Baran lick and suck her fingers clean.
“Fuck,” she groans, kissing Baran when she’s done, tasting herself. It’s sweet, slow, and Baran hums into it.
“Feel better?” Baran mumbles against her mouth, still feeling Trinity twitch against her thigh. Her own cunt is aching, and Trinity looks so beautifully spent.
“Mhm,” she hums. “I needed that.”
Baran smiles as Trinity buries herself back in Baran’s neck, kissing her there, making Baran shiver. Then her stomach rumbles so loudly Baran can practically feel it against her own body. They laugh, passing it between them like a precious, secret thing.
“How about I heat you up your dinner, and then we take a shower together?” Baran asks quietly, lovingly. “Wash off the day.”
Trinity goes slack against Baran, the thought of food and a hot shower with her hot girlfriend so wonderfully appealing. Baran feels it, relaxes into it herself, letting their bodies meld for a long, long moment.
“I like when you take care of me,” Trinity says finally, so quiet Baran almost misses it. “You make it easy to feel like I deserve it.”
Trinity has a hard time saying I love you. It chokes her more often than not. She feels it, has told Baran so, and still she panics. Baran doesn’t push, doesn’t ask questions, just lets Trinity come to her, soft and unhurried.
“Then I’ll do it everyday forever if you want,” Baran whispers, and it’s probably too much for Trinity. Too permanent. But Baran can’t help it. Trinity’s working her way into Baran’s foundations, little by little, day by day.
“I love you so much,” Trinity sighs, holding Baran tighter. Baran’s heart does something wild and impossible, and her hand tightens in Trinity’s hair, keeping her close. She closes her eyes, exhales slowly into her temple.
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.
need the version of garsanshimi/garsantos/barantos where it’s garcia and baran both having a situationship with trinity and having no idea about the other.
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.
barantos - why do you stay with this neurotic fool?
sometimes, trinity just needs to hurt.
not herself, not anyone else, she just needs to feel the despair and let it tear herself apart like a wild animal in a cage.
baran lets her, lets herself be submissive and be completely at her partner’s mercy as trinity drives her strap into her from behind, yanks at her hips, pushes her face against the hardwood floor.
fuck, baby, i’m…oh my god…i can’t…baby, please!
there’s nothing for her to grab onto, the floor’s too smooth and too slippery to get any purchase, so trinity makes her sob into the open air, lets her tears drip down her cheek and onto the floor below.
fucking like this feels like confession, feels like beating herself until the sin is purified from her body, the sweat fighting against her until she’s clean again.
i’m sorry, baby, f-fuck…just need you to take it…know it hurts…gonna make you feel so good.
baran would tell her if it’s too much and she’d stop, find another way of burning out all the rot, but baran doesn’t.
baran preens and manages to get up onto her elbows, arching back into trinity’s vice-like grip with a dark look in her eyes.
don’t stop. want you to fill me with you, pump me full, never let me forget you.
