#ki words

[scattereddreamers]

a fic i may never write ft. olympicgymnast!trinity & erdoctor!baran

santos is training for an olympic run (at canon age), gets injured at practice, and al-hashimi is her ER doctor. al-hashimi is so intrigued by her that she checks up on her after surgery and trinity charms her to the point that they trade numbers.

[a lot more under the cut]

as trinity is going through pt and doing her best to return to the competition, she and baran are going on very casual dates around the city and taking things slow. but then the qualifying finals come around and trinity can't think of anyone she wants near her more than baran. so she flies baran out for all of her meets and sends her son a bunch of team goodies. if baran can't adjust her schedule to make it work then she and lil man always send trinity a video cheering her on from the couch with homemade shirts on. baran painted them herself, santos' silhouette is posed in front of her favorite flower on the front with santos written above it. (trinity always gets flustered and teary looking at them). she calls them both her good luck charms and thanks them on the sly in any interviews.

whitaker loses his sht when she first tells him about them bc she's been such a player and they moved so quickly, but eventually joins baran on the couch in a shirt of his own. javadi trains with trinity and always photo/videobombs whenever she can. mel is training as one of the onsite doctors and always sends baran the best candids of trinity. javadi, mel, and whitaker only meet baran and lil man twice before they start calling them her wife and son (and trinity the dad that stepped up).

on the other side, samira and mckay are on baran panic duty whenever she starts spiraling about trinity being too young. they're the first ones to notice baran's new adventurous lifestyle and how much more often she's busy. drinks at mohan's apt quickly turn into a gossip sesh where samira and cassie turn into inspector fcking gadgets to find out everything they can about her (they keep trinity's childhood trauma to themselves, they're nosy not monsters).

baran being a celebrated er doctor is socmed gold and they quickly dig up videos of her singing opera in undergrad and med school. the two become one of the most talked about couples and have a following of their own. post silver medal (she can't have everything lol), trinity accepts a brand deal that flies her out to the phillipines and that's when baran and lil man officially meet her lola and lolo. baran has video calls with her maman every other week and if she's not on screen then she's asked about trinity within minutes. they finally get a chance to visit a year later.

dana is the head coach, abbott is the team's head physician on site, robby is co-attending with baran. emma is training with mel and dating joy who's on the team. princess and perlah are everyone's favorite announcers. collins is a sports journalist and the first one to catch on to barantos' relationship, she's thoughtful and compassionate and asks fun, dynamic questions so she gets all the exclusive interviews. she runs a side blog where she writes essays based off her less formal questions and has a segment featuring sportsfolks of color. trinity is a regular guest.

[ki-words]

i had a dream once about you. we went to school together and we had a friendship, it was great, and i enjoyed being around you. then at the end of the dream, i found out you had a fake name, and i felt betrayed and hurt. it’s kind of funny how in real life i felt like after we no longer became friends after, we started to become more and more of an acquaintance to each other that it felt like that you had fake feelings the whole time. it’s kind of funny how in both scenarios you did something wrong and didn’t care, then and I was the one who ended up being hurt.

Life can be a pain in the ass sometimes, or maybe it was just you.

~ k.l.c (@ki-words )

[scattereddreamers]

Pitt Yuri Week - Day One - Lazy Mornings [Barantos]

@pitt-yuri-week

rated: t || wc: 877 ||contents: migraines, implied chronic pain, egregious use of water imagery

Baran's voice washed over Trinity with the gentle susurrus of a blessed rain as her hand drifted through Trinity's hair in between pages. Normally, she'd be thrilled at a lazy day in bed with zero responsibilities.

The worldbuilding of Baran's latest vapid fantasy book would lie in ruins, ransacked by Trinity's incessant questions and limitless disdain for hypermasculinity. Baran's voice would wander through her lower register, hoarse from a meandering orgasm, probably two. The gentle, smug thrum of success would leave Trinity boneless on top of Baran's tummy, fingers tracing her stretch marks and c-section scar.

Instead, her eyes were pinched shut in a futile fight against the storm buffeting her body. Her stomach was a rolling pitch on rough seas. Pain thwacked its way across the right side of her head in the world's worst game of beach volleyball. Fairy lights haunted the shadows of her closed eyes. Tingles frolicked in the sea of lava that was her right calf.

A shallow groan escaped as she burrowed further into the cradle of Baran's thighs.

Baran's fingers paused their journey.

"What do you need, eshgham [my love]?"

"Nothing—" Trinity flushed at the whining edge she didn't know to stifle in time. Her head was a cinder block languishing on the ocean floor, but she knew without moving that Baran's brow had furrowed with those two wrinkles she hated.

Tsk. Baran's chiding click trickled its way down Trinity's spine."The truth, eshgham."

Trinity's arms tightened around Baran's hips without her permission.

"It's really nothing, mahal [my love]." Trinity built a life raft from the dregs of her psyche and hoped it was enough to keep her afloat amidst the seas of Baran's doubt. "Just a little headache."

"Hm."

She drowned. That was the same tone Baran used when someone presented a half-considered case or Kian was ten minutes too far into advocating for the second museum visit in a weekend. Trinity had two more sentences before Baran capsized into a wasted day of hovering and another impassioned lecture about self care and honesty.

She bit her lip and pried open an eye to look at Baran. Brown eyes stared back, wide and soft with what Trinity had long accepted was worry and adoration in equal measure.

Her reticence washed away.

"I have a migraine. It started last night but I thought I could sleep it off."

"Oh, eshgham," Baran crooned while setting her book aside,"I'll be right back." She placed a warm hand over Trinity's eyes and cradled her head as she replaced herself with a pillow. The metallic zing of their blackout curtains closing sent a new volley of pain through Trinity's head.

Time drifted.

The brush of Baran's lips against Trinity's temple was a lighthouse back to reality. The bed sunk beside her hips as Baran settled on the edge of the bed.

"This will be cold, my love."

Trinity could fistfight a god with this ice pack on her forehead and Baran's fingers on her chin as she nudged her into a more elevated position.

Baran placed two pills against Trinity's mouth with a quick, "Swallow for me."

Cue Trinity's smarmy grin.

"Jooooon!" Baran's abashed giggle and creeping flush would earn her an aggrieved glance and face full of kisses any other day. Today, Trinity subsisted on trailing a trembling hand into Baran's curly mane and pulling her in for a slow, messy kiss.

Their breaths were shared shallow rivers as they collected themselves.

"Eshgham, take the pills."

"Fine." Trinity nibbled on Baran's fingers as they exited. The acrid taste of the diphenhydramine and NSAID she couldn't swallow in time was worth it.

"Brat."

"Yours."

"Of course, ghashangam [handsome, gendered]." Baran blew on the estekan in her hands then held it to Trinity's lips, "Drink slowly. It has nabat and orange blossom because I know you're still getting used to willow water."

Even with the ice pack, Trinity knew her face was as red as her aunt's best lechon. Her attempted recovery left her with a scalded tongue and bruised ego as she inhaled too much tea.

Baran snorted into quiet laughter and her shoulders shook as she placed the cup back on her nightstand for safekeeping. "You're lucky you're better at following directions in the hospital, eshgham. Sometimes."

She fluffed Trinity's pillows and spread the duvet over her legs.

"Rest. Eat some of the halwa that Babba brought back from their most recent trip. Finish your tea without burning what's left of your taste buds."

Baran walked towards the bedroom door, undoubtedly leaving to tread proverbial water in the living room while pretending she could control nature's whims. "A pot of soupeh jo is on the stove. I'll be back in—"

"Stay." Trinity spoke without thinking, but she had no regrets. "Please stay, mahal."

"Oh," Baran's bunny teeth were on full display as a slow smile crept across her face, "okay."

"Okay."

They nestled beside each other. Baran set a timer for the soup and reopened her book.

Trinity basked in the slow relief of her ice pack and meds, the warmth of her tea, and the saccharine taste of her halwa. She couldn't count on the waters to be calm, but she knew she would always have a safe harbor to dock.

[scattereddreamers]

500 words of gratuitous en media res barantos smut and another 600 words of aftercare under the cut.

cw: mild ropeplay, soft top baran, bottom trinity

Baran revels in Trinity's sobs as she pushes back onto her strap. Her voice had been fucked out of her two orgasms and thirty minutes ago and the raspy mewls left behind were the greatest gift she's ever given Baran.

"You're doing so well for me, ghashangam (handsome; gendered). Just keep breathing."

On her next thrust, Baran tightens her grip on the silk ropes tying Trinity hands to the small of her back. She arches off the bed with a quiet keen at the new angle.

"You look so good from back here, baby."

Baran cradles Trinity's ass, giving it a little smack. She bites her lip, head cocked a little to the side at the ripple. A moan escapes despite her best efforts. Her hips stutter and the grind pad sends waves of pleasure thrumming through her body.

"Oh asalam (my honey), you've ruined me for anyone else."

Trinity's whines choke off. It takes Baran a few seconds to hear her,"Yours. Yours. Yours," muttered over and over.

"Fuck." Baran 's eyes roll back. "That's right, Trinity, you're mine, ghashangam. I've got you."

Baran pushes Trinity further up the bed and places a spare pillow under her hips, legs splayed to either side. She takes a few seconds to savor her thighs, fingers running over raised scars, goosebumps, fine hairs, and the remnants of Trinity's latest eczema flareup alike.

She grips Trinity's puffy, overstimulated clit between two fingers. A light squeeze and two soft circles are all it takes for Trinity to come with a punched out scream.

"Thank you, asalam, that was so good. You take me so well."

Baran thrusts in a gentle staccato through Trinity's orgasm. As Trinity's breath eases, Baran speeds up, pausing at every crest to grind into her cunt. Her fingers sit still on Trinity's clit, not wanting to overwhelm her.

"Baran, I can't."

"Please, ghashangam," Baran wipes away Trinity's tears. "Last one, I promise. One more for me?" Baran runs a hand through her sweaty hair, massaging Trinity's scalp with a tenderness that belies the rough grind she's still pushing from her hips.

The hitch in Trinity's breath betrays her. She ekes out a weak,"Okay, ang gugma (my love)*."

Baran kisses over the apple of Trinity's cheek and to the bridge of her nose and back again. She kitten licks up the tears still falling from her eyes.

"Thank you, Trinity. You're so good to me."

Baran grips Trinity's hips, letting the squelches of her cunt set the new rhythm as they echo around the room. She hovers over Trinity's spine, nibbling on her skin until it purples before moving to another spot. The angle was awkward and Trinity's bound hands were hiding Baran 's favorite spot where her dimples framed the lumbricalis joint, but Baran made do.

She had been hovering over an orgasm for so long that it didn't take Baran long to feel her climax approaching. She hitches Trinity's leg up for a better angle, careful not to aggravate her weak knee.

"I'm close, baby. Will you come with me?"

Trinity's nod was more of a suggestion, but Baran knew she was too overwrought to do much more. A few more thrusts and judicious circles around Trinity's clit sent them both over the edge.

Baran nips over Trinity's shoulders as her knees quake and her arms are trembling wrecks of nerves. She sends a quiet, crooning, "Nafasam, khaste nabāshi (My breath, thank you for your hard work)**," down Trinity's spine as she eases away and discards their harness.

Baran undoes the ropes holding Trinity's arms taut and reaches into the nightstand and pulled out their wipes and oils. She wipes down Trinity's face first, two fingers cradling her jaw as crusted snot and tears give way to clean flushed red skin. She trails kisses over her forehead, over both eyes—sleepy, hazy green gazing back at her sends a flush up her chest—and the bridge of her nose, before lingering at her mouth. It's more of a sloppy meeting of exhausted lips than a proper kiss, but something in Baran settles nonetheless.

Baran 's heart melts at Trinity's quiet salaamat (thank you)*** as she continues. Her hands are gentle as they caress her love's body, cradling each limb for a few seconds both before and after she moves them. By the time she's finished, Trinity's eyes are closed and she has to maneuver her dead weight fully onto the bed. She turns on the candle warmer sitting on her nightstand before leaving, saffron and orange should fill the room by the time she's back.

She takes a few minutes to putter around the bathroom; peeing, cleaning their strap, and completing her nighttime routine. On her way back, she grabs two cups of water and snacks from the kitchen.

Baran settles on her side of the bed, setting the supplies next to the candle before gently shaking Trinity awake.

"Asalam, wake up."

Trinity's grunt shouldn't come as a surprise to Baran after all this time, but somehow hearing a sound that would come out of her 63 year old Baba has her head rocking back as her laughter echo through the room.

Trinity has a small grin glimmering back at Baran by the time she's collected herself. Their eyes meet. Baran leans down to place more shallow kisses against Trinity's lips. She's not intentionally counting, but by the time she reaches what must be at least ten, Trinity's grin has stretched far enough across her face that their knocking teeth.

"Please come here, ghashangam, before you give the both of us a concussion."

Trinity lets out an abashed giggle before she clambers into Baran 's lap, back to her chest. She nestles low, head cradled between Baran 's second and third rib.

"Would you like to continue with Khayyām tonight, my love?"

Trinity's affirmation rumbled through Baran's chest, felt far more than heard. She lets the smile she'd been holding back free, gracing the room with another tiny laugh.

"Alright then. Here," she hands Trinity one of the waters and the pack of trail mix, "eat while I speak."

Baran pauses, brow furrowed, as Trinity reached over to the nightstand right after she started.

"You need water too, gugma. I'll hold it, just tap on my thigh when you want to drink."

"Oh." Baran forgot sometimes how wonderful felt to be loved by Trinity Santos. She brushes a kiss over her forehead, smoothing down her hair before reaching for the jasmine scented oil beside them.

Baran warms the oil up in her hands before picking up Trinity's unoccupied arm. She massages her palm first, working in gentle circles before pushing deeper. Her voice washes over the room in a low murmur as they while away the night hours.

*ang gugma is the possessive (ang = my), shortened form of higugma which is a deep, romantic affection that encompasses a desperate and all-consuming love you have for another person. Based on my research, it's a little formal and wouldn't be front of mind for a fcked out Trinity, but the poetry behind it was irresistible.

**nafasam = my breath; conveys that they are as essential to your existence as the very air you breathe. It’s an extraordinarily romantic and serious expression of love, indicating that you cannot live, or even truly exist, without them. This term encapsulates an indispensable, life-giving bond. khaste nabāshi = casual, singular version; lit. "may you not be tired" but conveys 'I see how hard you’re working and I appreciate it.' It carries a warm, empathetic vibe that turns a transactional moment into a human connection. This is probably out of place but i couldn't find any alternatives.

***Salamaat = thank you in Tagalog, there were more romantic additions but Trinity's brain is dead lol

[ki-words]

It's dark, we're riding the bus to school. It's quiet for the most part. You're sitting right next to me, the person I use to call my best friend and then just left. No words, no hurt for you (as far as I know). I accidentally touch your thigh gently, you scooch ever so slightly closer to me. We start talking about how I don't like wearing flats that much because when I'm walking I have to clench my feet so they stay on, since my feet are small. Then, I said I didn't know how you even wear like 2" heels. We talk about that for a little, and then we look at each other and then you kiss me. It lasted like a second, we both are silent. Uncomfortableness and confusion runs through my body instantly...

Dreams ~ k.l.c (@ki-words )

[ki-words]

I'm here but I'm also there at the same time

I'm me but I'm not

I'm here but I'm in my head

I'm lost but I feel found...somehow

I'm confused but...well I'm always confused

I know myself but I still have so much to uncover

I'm happy but I'm sad

I'm loved but not by me

I'm young but I feel like I've been here too long

I'm apathetic yet emotional

I'm fine but I'm not

I'm... not sure ~ k.l.c (@ki-words )

[ki-words]

“ Dear Darling,

I love you, but you probably already know that. So, I don’t know why I’m mentioning it, maybe because it just rolls off my tounge so easily when I’m around you. I don’t want to ‘complete’ you or be your 'other half’, because you were never broken or missing a piece of yourself. You will forever and aLwaYs be whole. That wholeness may change size, shape, texture, color, or have a different scent every once and a while, but you will never need another to make you 'complete’. You are an individual, you are you, which is all I want, your truest self. And that you of yours is cute, smart, funny, genuine, kind, beautiful in every fucking way I can think of, and just the best fucking person I’ve met in my life so far. All I am is another blob in space figuring out this human thing next to you. I may come and go, but I’ll remember you, that’s for damn sure.

Sincerely,

You Know Who”

Dear Darling ~ k.l.c (@ki-words )

[ki-wonder]

"She's here..."

"No, she can't, you're lying"

"Maybe I am, and maybe I'm not, but isn't this what you wanted?"

"Yes... but...(deep breath) Fucking hell!"

"You wanted to see her, or at least that's what you told me"

"Nothing is that simple sadly, everything is so fucked up, and just smashed together like..like I don't know, Thanksgiving stuffing."

Stuffing ~ k.l.c (@ki-words)