Welcome! This fanweek revolves around F/F ships from the show The Pitt. The event will span from July 13th, 2026 to July 19th, 2026. Make sure to use the tag #pittyuriweek26 OR @ this account, @pitt-yuri-week along with the day/prompt you picked in order to participate.
☆ GUIDELINES:
Your art has to feature women of The Pitt. Your submission must be about an F/F ship. Any of them. Genderbending male characters will not count for this event.
The art can be any medium. Fanfiction, fanart, edits, moodboards, etc. are all accepted.
Appropriately tag your works. Remember to add trigger warnings if applicable. Only tag the characters/ships that are in your work.
NSFW submissions are allowed. NSFW artwork will only be shared if it is a censored preview with a link to the uncensored version in your post. Tag your submission with #nsft.
Early/Late submissions are welcome. Early submissions will be reblogged the day of the prompt you chose. Posts made 2 or 3 weeks following the event will still be shared.
“Please,” Samira begs as Raya just keeps wailing, feeling on the edge of tears herself. “Please, sweetheart, don’t cry. Mama’s right here.”
But Raya just sobs harder, snot and tears dripping down her face even as Samira tries bouncing her in the way that usually helps soothe her. She feels helpless and tired and like she might just smash something to bits if she has to hear incessant crying for even a minute longer, a feeling that scares her more than anything ever has.
It’s not like she’s never seen an ear infection before, but not being able to help her daughter hurts too much to bear. She’d been home alone with Raya ever since she’d been awoken at 7AM by the sound of Raya whining for her from her crib, and it had barely stopped all day. For nearly twelve hours, she’d done nothing but pace their apartment and dose out children's Tylenol and attempt to get work done while Raya slept, but the peace only ever lasted fifteen minutes at a time before Raya woke up in pain again and wanted to be held.
Emery will be home soon, she reminds herself, trying to suck in deep breaths and squash the panic rising to the surface. So soon.
As she’s still pacing and bouncing Raya in her arms ten minutes later, a lock clicks and the front door opens to reveal Emery, still in her scrubs and tight bun. She’s barely stepped inside and shut the door behind her when Raya’s shoved into her arms, still wailing and trying to grab at her.
“I can’t,” Samira chokes out as she beelines for the bathroom, leaving Emery standing there utterly confused as to what she’s just walked into.
But her problem-solving instinct kicks in and then she’s moving, shifting Raya in her arms and heading for the kitchen to check the whiteboard on the fridge to see when her last dose had been – they’d adopted the habit just a few months ago, realizing it would be easier in the event they couldn't reach each other — and gets the next dose into Raya with minimal success, the feat made no easier with how Raya’s clutching at her scrubs and whimpering into her shoulder, rendering her practically single-armed against a stubborn toddler.
“I know, darling,” she murmurs, trying to get a look at Raya’s face as they head down the hall to start bedtime. “Ear infections suck, don’t they?”
Raya just sniffles and curls closer into her, and Emery's heart melts. Oh, how she wishes she could just wave a magic wand and make everything better, but she can't and she hates it. She’s got a sick toddler and an upset wife and she can’t even split herself in half to avoid having to choose. So as much as she wants to run to her wife, she knows Samira would want her to put Raya first, and so she does.
Ten minutes later, Raya’s half-asleep in her crib and Emery’s tip-toeing out of the room, gently shutting the door behind her. She can only assume Samira’s still in the bathroom, so she heads towards it, knocking once on the door before slowly pushing it open.
“Mira?”
She finds Samira sitting in the tub, legs pulled up to her chest and face buried against them as she shakes with sobs. They don’t slow even when Emery walks in, instead leaving her body in choked noises as her shoulders shake harder.
“Oh, honey,” Emery murmurs as she kneels next to the tub, slowly lifting a hand to place it on Samira’s back. “I’m here. Breathe.”
Samira finally lifts her head, teary eyed and looking so worn-out that it physically hurts Emery to see her wife like that. “I can’t,” she chokes out. “I can’t, I’m sorry, this was a bad idea -”
“Hey,” Emery says firmly, cupping Samira's face with both hands. “Listen to me. Just breathe, okay. That’s it. In and out, Mira.”
She watches Samira’s shoulders slowly stop shaking, waits until her breathing is more controlled and less wheezing to speak again. “Better?”
Samira nods, still looking so tiny and vulnerable curled up in the tub that it makes Emery's heart squeeze with protectiveness. She has no idea what’s happened but regardless, she just wants to fix everything and take Samira’s pain away. She wants to see her wife smile again, hates seeing her upset and drawn-in like this.
“Okay,” Emery says, standing up and holding a hand out to Samira. “How about we get you out of the tub and into bed?”
Samira silently takes the offered hand and stands up, reaching out for Emery's other hand when she wobbles slightly. Emery keeps a hand tightly wrapped around Samira’s the whole way to the bedroom, even as they climb into bed and under the covers.
By force of habit, Samira’s head tips over onto Emery's shoulder, curling into the arm that reflexively wraps around her.
“You wanna talk about it?”
Samira nods, but she’s silent for a moment as she turns onto her side to toss a leg over Emery's and cuddle closer. “She wouldn’t stop crying, Em.” Her voice cracks on the last word. “I barely slept last night and I’m so behind on work and I feel like a shitty parent because I just wanted more than fifteen minutes of silence but she wouldn’t stop and I -” a fresh sob tears out of her, and Emery can feel her heart breaking all over again. “I’m tired and I hate that I can’t do anything to make her feel better.”
“Honey,” Emery can only murmur as she presses her lips to the top of Samira's head as she thinks, trying to put everything she’s feeling at the pain in Samira's voice into words. “Oh, sweet girl, I’m sorry I wasn’t here. It sounds like you’ve had an awful day.”
“Yeah,” Samira sniffles. “It’s not your fault, Em, I’m just - I don’t know, mad that I couldn't handle this.”
“I know,” Emery says, because that’s all she can manage through the tears threatening to spill out. “And I know you already know this, but I’m always a phone call away, yeah? Nothing’s more important than you two.”
“Yeah,” Samira whispers. “I know I should’ve called today but I was scared and tired and I wasn’t thinking and -”
“It’s okay,” Emery soothes, turning onto her side and wrapping her other arm around Samira. “It’s all going to be okay. I got you, always.”
Samira lifts her head to kiss Emery’s cheek. “I love you. So much.”
Baran al-Hashimi x Trinity Santos x Reader NSFW MDNI
Summary: Whilst Baran's away Trinity tries to convince you to play and break the rules. Established relationship between Baran, Trinity and Reader. Dom/Sub tones, mommy kink vibe, 'kitten' used as pet name, fingering, oral (f recieving), r refered to as girl, phone sex (kinda), bratty Trinity
Author's Note: I'm not even going to try and explain myself or think about what this says about me. Posting for Lazy Morning Prompt @pitt-yuri-week
@simpfolder
You know you're in trouble as soon as you wake up with Trinity's thigh between your legs. She smiles excitedly at you slowly coming to life, rubbing your eyes.
"Heyyyy, sleepy."
"Mhmmph." Her voice is too sing song and teasing for having just woken up. She pulls your hands away from your face so can't avoid the creeping sun light any longer. Nor can you miss the twinkle in Trinity's eyes. She snuggles in closer which, accidently you're sure, grinds her leg closer to your crotch.
"Did you sleep?" Given how awake she seems you wonder if she's overtired and pent up. Trinity is used to Baran lulling her to sleep. You'd both been silently aware this was the first night you'd spent together without her. Since coming into Baran and Trinity’s lives, there’d been plenty of times you and Trinity would be left alone whilst Baran worked or run errands. However this was the first time you'd been asked to stay whilst Baran was out of town for a conference and the first full night it’d been just the two of you. You'd carefully followed the routine Baran had set. Shower, food, cuddles. Each step photographed and sent to the older woman, yourself and Trinity eagerly awaiting her approving reply. You'd followed all the rules - no work talk after 9pm, eat a proper portion, take your meds. No touching without Baran's permission. Maybe that explains why Trinity is all over you this morning.
"Yeah, you're not a bad teddy bear, you know?" Trinity burrows her head into your neck and squeezes you tight. You hope it’s true. Trinity always surprises you with how she softens and sighs when cuddled. You feel it now as her body relaxes into you and she starts brushing her lips where your pulse is steadily rising.
"Trinity...what are you up to?" The sensation of her breath on your skin makes you giggle. You scrabble your fingers to tickle at her hips until she joins in your laughter.
"Missed you last night." She pushes your hands off her and locks your fingers tight with hers.
"I was right here."
"Ummph you know what I mean!" She presses you onto your back so she can climb on top of you, hands still tangled. "I missed you.... missed Baran. Missed what we could have been doing." Her voice is still high pitched and teasing like when she’d woke you.
"Mmm you're obsessed. " But you'd be lying if you said your mind wasn't on the same road, thanks to Trinity's touchy hands.
"Then help an addict out." You don't miss her wince at that word. Instinctly you bring your lips to hers, hoping it keeps her mind in your bed and not on another Langdon induced anxiety trip. The enthusiatic way she sticks her tongue between your lips tells you it’s working. Trinity's kisses have a biting edge you can't help craving. Her hips start to copy the swirls of her tongue. Like an instant reflex your own hips follow. A damp patch grows on your underwear to match the wet cotton of Trinity's shorts that’s rubbing against you.
"Trin.." She catches your bottom lip and sucks your warning away. You cave, again. That's the trouble with Trinity - she doesn't give up easily but can make you give in in seconds. When she finally takes a breath, you try stilling her hips with your hands.
"Trin...you know the rules." She pulls back from you with a tremendously dramatic sigh. Your body already misses the contact.
She pulls one knee up so she can rest her chin on it. She's pixie like. Rumpled from sleep with her shirt rucked up and impish mischief shining in her eyes. Magically captivating. But rules are rules.
~~
Rules are why whatever you have going with Trinity and Baran works. Rules mean control and control is a sticking point in all your lives. Baran needs something she can have mastery over when she increasingly feels at the mercy of things beyond her. By contrast you’re too wedded to control. You take on too much, obsess over perfecting things to your own impossible standards. Sometimes you need to give it up and feel responsible for nothing. Trinity understands that. She craves the same escapism and the relief of having someone make things go her way for once. Trinity needs somewhere safe when the feelings, she's too often chastised about, need a release. Sometimes she needs to push back against control without fearing she’ll be abandoned for it.
Trinity, therefore, is no stranger to bending and even breaking Baran's rules. You've never dared. "Fucking suck up." Trinity would hiss, when Baran had her head between your legs, leaving Trinity to watch as punishment for whatever she'd done. Trinity could be bratty, but she was as much putty in Baran's hands as you were. The older woman knew you both in ways you didn't think possible, always knowing what you needed. She delighted in taking what she wanted from you and instructing you how to please each other. "My pretty girls, so pretty together" she'd coo. But always when the three of you were cuddled together, she'd remind you. "It’s not just a sex thing. This is about care. This is about your wellbeing." Her voice so assured, her words almost clinically confident, it’s impossible not to trust.
~~
Trinity is still expectingly batting her lashes at you. She crawls over your body until her lips are pressed to your ear.
"She doesn't have to know." You both know that Baran, one way or another, will know in the end. Yet Trinity's hands are boldly running down to where your pants sit on your hips.
"Do you really want to risk not being allowed to cum... ever again?"
She pushes the elastic down your hips and round your legs with a huff.
"You're so fucking dramatic." She rolls her eyes and shifts backwards until her face is level with your core. The burning heat of her gaze does little to help the aching wetness between your legs. Trinity notices straight away.
"Are you really going to tell me you don't want this?" She's close enough that her breath hits your damp skin when she speaks. The morning air catches in your throat.
"Rules, Trin."
"Made to be broken sometimes." She grins at the flutter of your hole. "Sure, looks like you want it." She leans in closer and swipes her tongue up the length of your pussy. "Sure, tastes like you want it." She hovers over your naked lower half with a cocky smirk, like she really believes Baran won't extract a confession from either of you. She swipes her tongue over you again. "Come on, baby, be a troublemaker for once."
She has you totally captivated the way she plays coy and cheeky. You've seen Baran dole out punishments to Trinity before. A spanking, a temporary denial or delay in cumming, getting a little less of her for the night. Maybe you could take that. You start weighing it up in your mind, torn between the sweet warmth of Baran singing your praises and the hot, wet sensation of Trinity’s torturously slow tongue. Your brain fogs with indecision. This is why you need someone to take control for you. Trinity leans in again, her actions halted by the ring of your phone. She pauses where she is, mouth dangerously close to its target.
You hurridly grab for the device, panicking more when it identifies Baran as the caller. That woman has a fucking sixth sense. You can't remember what her conference schedule looked like but there's every chance she's already mingling with doctors and surgeons in one of the tight dresses you'd help her pack. Why the hell is she phoning now? You flash the phone at Trinity.
"Answer it." She stays close enough to make your skin shiver.
Baran's sultry voice pours over the speaker. "Good morning, kitten." You catch Trinity lick her lips, watching the effect that name has on you. "How are you?"
"I'm alright..." Your voice is shakier than you'd like. "Still in bed."
Baran hums like she's considering how much she really trusts your unconvincing answer. "And is Trinity there too?"
Trinity's ears prick up, smiling devilishly with a finger to her lips. Shhhh. Then she delves in where her mouth had been lingering. Her tongue repeats its earlier movements between your folds, only quicker.
"Yea- yeah she uh...she's still asleep." Your lie is so pitiful Trinity briefly pulls back to snort.
"Is she now?" You can picture the all-knowing smile Baran is wearing as she speaks. You look at Trinity with a mix of fear and I told you so. She props herself up with an elbow on the mattress. Her other hand dances up and down where her tongue previously was, making you involuntarily squirm against her touch.
"Just ask her." Trinity tells you in the same voice reserved for explaining the obvious to Whitaker. You want to argue back and ask why doesn't she, she's the one that started this!
"You still there, darling?" Baran's voice drips into the room. An invisible force.
"Mhmm." Trinity lands a finger on your clit. She doesn't move but presses the hard spot with a pressure you start to carelessly grind against.
"You sure everything's okay? I was so proud of you and Trin last night. Following the rules like such good girls."
You whimper. Words like those are always a weakness, combined with Trinity's ministrations you feel damned.
"C-can..could..can Trinity and I...you know.?" You ask, hoping that maybe Baran'll feel generous after your good behaviour last night.
"Can you what, darling?"
Trinity's finger begins rubbing circles over your sensitive skin. You’re forced to bite back a moan, hoping Baran has somehow grown naive in the 24 hours since you last saw her.
"Come on, darling." Trinity listens in, snickering and taking Baran's words as a cue to speed up. "Use your words." Baran is encouraging but firm.
"C-c-can T..Trinity and I.." You don't even know the right word to use. "P..p.pl..play together... ev..en though you arent here." You breathe in sharply, you can feel the orgasm building low in your stomach, gaining strength with each move of Trinty's hand.
"It sounds like you’ve already started, baby."
Trinity freezes. Your grinding hips still. Guilt seizes you and panic floods Trinity's wide-eyed stare. You'd feel a little smugger about knowing you’d be caught if you weren’t now desperately wet and disappointed you hadn't even touched Trinity . She grabs the phone from you, kindly using the hand not shimmering with your slick.
"I'm sorry B!!" If only Baran could see the pretty pout on Trinity's face. She has puppy eyes like no one you've ever seen. That Baran has any resolve against them speaks volumes about her will power. "I missed you. We missed you."
"Thats why we..." You want to plead your case. A shameful blush creeps over your skin. "We just. Couldn’t help it." You aren't going to drop Trinity in trouble. You might be a suck up but you're no snitch. You take the phone from her hand and Trinity leaves a kiss of thanks to your neck.
"Please, Baran...please." Trinity wraps her legs round your thigh. With her pressed so close you can feel her shorts are soaked through. "Trinity's achey...I can tell. Feel bad if I can't help her." Trinity groans into your neck listening to you. She angles herself again so she can speak.
"I'm sorry Baran, I wouldn't make baby break the rules. Just want her to feel good. Please, can we?"
"Hmmmm we'll see." She leaves that hanging there. You wonder again where Baran is taking this call and how she is keeping a straight face listening to her whiney needy girls. You get your answer sooner than you'd like.
"Sorry kittens, coffee breaks almost over. I'll call you girls tonight and we'll discuss it okay? No more touching until then. Am I clear?"
Reluctantly you both agree.
"Good girls. Love you."
She hangs up after you say "love you" in unison. You throw your phone off into the tangled duvet and lay back with a frustrated groan. Trinity rolls herself back over you and plants a kiss on your forehead.
"Thanks for not telling."
"Hmm I wouldn't. Could kill you though. How am I meant get through the day like this?" You grind your wetness up into her so she knows exactly what she's done.
"You can start by taking me to breakfast. Seeing as mine." Her eyes look down your body "was interrupted."
"Urgh." You sigh but how could you say no. Anything to keep the two busy until Baran calls.
Trinity hadn't eaten all shift, had glanced at the clock sometime around 1am and the next time she checked it was 6.30. Trauma after trauma had rolled in. Did the people of Pittsburgh not have the decency to have their medical emergencies before midnight?
She finally sat down, legs aching, and dropped her head on the desk. The cool plastic of the center station pressed against her forehead like a soothing balm and she let out a sigh that just barely qualified as not-a-moan. Maybe she could just stay like this? Day shift would be here soon and they could work around her. Dana was more than capable of adapting. She was resourceful like that.
She shut out the noise that had finally quieted down, leaving only the hum of florescent lights, the beeping of machines that weren't urgent, and the soft sounds of night shift staff holding their breath for the finish line. Basically a lullaby.
Her breathing slowed, in and out, sliding from shaky to calm and deep. Her eyes closed.
One more minute...
Something tickled her nose. The scent of amber and bergamot, overriding the antiseptic. The tension in her shoulders eased involuntarily.
"Busy night?"
Baran's voice was soft and quiet behind her. Close enough and low enough for only Trinity to hear.
She hummed. Speech was somewhere in Trauma 1, left there an hour ago.
There was a pause, as if someone was looking around to make sure the coast was clear, then Baran's fingers found their way into Trinity's hair. She scratched lightly at her scalp. Trinity tried not to purr.
"I'll order you an Uber home after handover."
"Nghh. 'm stayin' here. Not moving."
"That seems unsanitary." Trinity could hear the smile in her tone.
Baran's fingers retreated and she tried not to whine at the loss. With a herculean effort she opened her eyes, tilting her head without lifting it. Baran was looking down at her, expression unbearably soft. She smoothed it into something more professional the moment Trinity's eyes met hers.
Something gripped tight in Trinity's chest. Must have been the Red Bull finally catching up to her.
She forced herself to sit up, stretching her aching back with a yawn. Baran looked away, head snapping to the side with a speed that made Trinity dizzy.
She exhaled, rolling her shoulders. She tried to sound like a competent doctor. "I'm alive."
"Good. Although I also appreciate when my residents are conscious as well as merely alive."
"I was just resting my eyes."
Baran's gaze fell back to Trinity, and although her hands were now firmly behind her back, spine straight and face impassive, she couldn't hide the amusement that crinkled the corners of her eyes. She clicked her tongue. "I'm still not letting you drive home."
"I can take care of myself."
"I know. Consider it doing me a favour." She ignored Trinity's snort of disbelief. "It would not be good for my rota if my resident crashed on the way home."
"You have other residents. Your rota would survive."
"Maybe. But I quite like having you."
Trinity blinked. She'd fallen asleep at the desk. This was some sort of weird dream where her boss, the one she had tried to suppress her embarrassingly huge crush on, just told her she wanted her around. I quite like having you.
Jesus. She needed to lay off the caffeine.
Trinity managed to say, "Um."
Baran's facade cracked. She looked smug. Trinity thought the expression suited her.
"Handover in ten minutes, Dr Santos. Then you can escape."
Trinity did not want to escape. She wanted to stay right here, with Baran looking at her with satisfied amusement. Her mouth opened and closed like a fish.
Baran relented, picking up a tablet and turning to walk away. "Handover, taxi, then sleep. In that order."
Trinity gulped. "Yes, boss."
She watched her attending walk away, all the way to the end of the hallway until she disappeared into her office.
She shook her head. Maybe the nightcrawlers weren't weird. Maybe nights just made the impossible happen.
pitt yuri week day 1 // lazy morning // garsanshimi
short and sweet because i’m writing this on day 1 so no promises for the rest of the week lol
“What are you doing?” Baran murmurs sleepily, blinking hard against the sunlight poring in through the open windows.
“Sorry, I was trying not to wake you,” Yolanda says, smiling down at her. She looked aflame in the sun, skin gold, untamed curls backlit and creating a fuzzy halo around her head.
“You stopped blocking the sun from my eyes,” Baran says, burying her face into the pillow.
Yolanda just laughs before leaning down to press a kiss to her temple. “I’m going for a run, wanna come?”
Baran knows there’s no way Trinity is awake, but her timing is impeccable nonetheless, as the arm slung over Baran’s hips tightens, pulling their bodies closer together. Yolanda laughs again at the movement and Baran raises an eyebrow, eyes still shut. “We’re on vacation,” she argues.
“Exactly, new routes.” And Baran can’t see it, but she can hear the excitement in Yolanda’s voice, can picture it on her face.
“Don’t get lost in the woods.”
“I’ll be back before you’re even awake,” Yolanda promises.
Baran just hums and rolls over in Trinity’s arms, tucking her face into the sleeping woman’s neck. She hears the front door of their rented cabin shut a few minutes later, right before she drifts back off to sleep.
Later, when Yolanda is back (not before they’re awake, but before they’re out of bed), they’ll make breakfast together. They’ll bring their plates and their coffee out to the deck, and sit, looking out at the water. The day will unfold and unspool from there, totally unhurried as they drift apart and together again— sunbathing, reading, naps. The limitless peace of time together with no plans or expectations. Perfect.
The Pitt Yuri Week July 13 - Lazy Morning. Barantos.
At exactly 7am, Baran heard the door unlock and she knew Trinity was finally home from Boston.
Trinity had driven Kaveh back to Boston after his summer break at home in Pittsburgh. Kaveh was entering his junior year at Harvard and insisted on Trinity to drive him back. After the drive, she then spent several days with her son. Trinity even caught up with Javadi who was an emergency psych attending at Massachusetts General Hospital. She enjoyed the trip but missed her wife who unfortunately had to work.
Trinity spent the night driving from Boston back to Pittsburgh, much to her wife’s dismay. She didn’t want to spend another night in a hotel. Fortunately, Baran quietly abused her privileges as a Chief Attending by politely demanding Trinity’s boss Dr Lyons to give Trinity an extra day off. Dr Lyons acquiesced.
Trinity had quietly went to her bedroom which she shared with Baran. She knew her wife was somehow asleep.
Instead, Baran was awake and climbed out of bed to give Trinity a hug before she kissed her on the lips. Baran wore a navy set of silk pyjamas whilst her honey highlighted curls were frizzled from sleep, Trinity found the sight endearing.
Baran sent Trinity into the shower before the younger woman came out. She was wearing a crimson Harvard tshirt and grey flannel pants.
Trinity sighed as she laid her head down for the first time in 16 hours. Her eyes got heavy and her breathing evened out whilst Baran gently raked her scalp with her fingers. Baran was softly singing a Persian lullaby when Trinity was finally asleep.
Day 1 - Lazy Morning - you can read below the cut or on AO3
An Archive of Our Own, a project of the Organization for Transformative Works
Tags: fluff, nothing but fluff
Three days. Three glorious days off together.
Admittedly one of them is going to have to ruin their sleep schedule over the next three days but that was a price they were willing to pay if it means they got to see one another for more than a passing glance as day shift ended and night shift started.
Emery in particular is happy to tank her sleep schedule to see the sun for once, although she didn’t need to see the sunrise.
“Turn your alarm off.” She grouses, feeling the bed dip and then an unwelcome influx of cold air.
The alarm cuts off and Emery keeps her eyes shut, willing her body to sink back to sleep. But there is too much rustling going on from within her bedroom, and extremely reluctantly she cracks open one eye to squint out at Yolanda in the dim light filtering through from the barely risen sun.
“What are you doing?” She asks, vaguely it looked like Yolanda had shucked off the sleep shirt she’d ‘borrowed’ from Emery a couple months ago and was struggling into a sports bra.
“Getting ready for my run.” Yolanda tells her.
“Your run?” Emery fumbles blindly towards the nightstand for her phone to check the time. “Yola, it’s 5am.”
“Yes…” Yolanda trails off, set about searching for her running shorts.
“It’s 5am and we don’t have to be anywhere near the hospital for 72 hours and you are going for a run.” Emery tries again, she isn’t sure if it was her sleepiness restricting the point she was trying to make or Yolanda being purposefully obtuse.
“I go on a run at this time every day, even on my day’s off.” She explains, frowning openly at Emery who had woken herself up enough now that she could stare without squinting.
“Garcia, get back in bed. You are not ruining the first morning of our time off by going for a run.” Emery stretches a hand out towards her. “I will go for a run with you later.”
Yolanda, Emery thinks, looks unreasonably adorable as she weighs up breaking her usual routine, but does eventually peel her sports bra off and, to Emery’s even greater delight, shimmies back under the covers without donning her sleep shirt once more.
Emery wastes no time into sidling up against her girlfriend, shifting and adjusting until she was curled up against the side of her, bodies flush against one another.
“You’re always so warm.” She mumbles, already half asleep once more, a trait Yolanda had always been deeply envious.
“Mhm.” She agrees, running a hand gently through Emery’s bed head as best she could. “I don’t know if I’ll be able to get back to sleep though.”
“That’s okay…” a yawn splits across her face, “just lie here for a bit with me and then I’ll get up and make you breakfast, I promise.”
Yolanda doubted that in a bit was any time soon as Emery almost immediately dropped back to sleep, but, begrudgingly she had to admit that it was nice to stop for a second or two.
Part of being a trauma surgeon meant that she’d developed her morning routine to run like clockwork. She woke up at 5am, went for her run, came home, showered, grabbed breakfast in the form of whatever she’d prepped for the week and headed to work.
Even on the odd times she and Emery had days off that overlapped, she still quite often stuck to her morning routine, because whilst she might have the day off, Emery would still be working her night shift before her day off.
But right now, as Emery shifts in her sleep and somehow cuddled ever closer to her, that maybe disrupting her routine for the next couple days wouldn’t be so sad.
(Yolanda learned early on that teasing Emery about her koala like tendencies only led to Emery declaring that she’d sleep elsewhere if it bothered her so much. Yolanda had to sheepishly walk back the teasing, because she quite liked it.
In fact, there was a lot about Emery Walsh as her girlfriend she quite liked. She is unfailingly attentive, sometimes she notices that Yolanda is having a shitty day before Yolanda does. She’s a big old romantic, loves to wine and dine her as often as she can, loves to race round to open the car door for Yolanda too.
And she’s impossibly soft, is always so sleepy and cuddly on the rare times they get to share a bed to sleep between shifts, she’s forever winding her arms around Yolanda whilst she cooks, and will honest to god pout if Yolanda doesn’t give her a peck on the lips, squirrelled away in a hallway when their shifts overlap.)
She can feel Emery’s chest moving against her as the other surgeon slept, and unconsciously matched her own breaths to the rhythm until she too fell back asleep.
When Emery stirs next it’s barely 7am, but she’s already pushing her sleep by trying to shift it to match closer to Yolanda’s for this mini break. Not that she minds, she’s always been able to find sleep when she needs it or when she can get it, and shifting back to night routine is easier for her anyway.
She is however, surprised that her girlfriend has managed to fall back asleep, usually once Yolanda is up, she’s up. But as she delicately shifts to get a look at her, Yolanda is clearly flat out, mouth slightly open as she dreams.
Being with Yolanda is making her worryingly sappy, Emery thinks, because her heart swells with affection as she tries to move slowly towards the edge of the bed and Yolanda follows in her sleep to chase her warmth.
But eventually she does manage to extricate herself, slips out of the room quietly and heads towards the kitchen with the intention of making her girlfriend breakfast in bed.
Her pantry is usually pretty poorly stocked, and she’s a nightmare for eating protein bars and the odd TV dinner. But she’d gone grocery shopping prior to this break, in part to stop Yolanda complaining that she has no ‘real food’ but also to make her breakfast right now.
It’s been a long time since she made blueberry pancakes, or any sort of meal that required measuring and mixing and paying attention to it. But how hard can it be?
She still can’t quite believe how she’s ended up here, making breakfast for her girlfriend in bed, her girlfriend who is Yolanda Garcia.
Yolanda who has been a perpetual pain in her ass at work since she first appeared at the hospital. She’s unbelievably smart, funny, sharp tongued, and drop dead gorgeous, all the things that made Emery want to get her into bed in the first place.
But Yolanda Garcia her girlfriend is also soft in a way she wasn’t when they were just fucking. She remembers Emery’s coffee order, she’ll often open her locker before her own shift to see it restocked with her favourite snacks. When their days off don’t line up, Yolanda will cook for her, will wash her hair when she stumbles through the door in the morning too exhausted to shower but in desperate need of one.
And that’s not to say her sharpness waned in light of their relationship, she still keeps Emery’s on her toes, still makes her laugh and roll her eyes and swat at her when she makes a particularly cutting comment.
The pancakes turn out…somewhat presentable, they’re definitely going to taste good judging by the dud one she ate in basically one bite.
And when she wakes Yolanda by gently calling her name, she’s delighted to see that she wakes slowly, body stretching like a cat. She blinks sleepily at her, until she realises Emery is carrying a tray of food and coffee and then she grins.
“You know how to make a girl feel special, Walsh” she says, voice low with sleep, as she shuffles up to sit against the headboard. Her voice is teasing but Emery can see the way she’s blushing just a touch.
She still isn’t sure how they went from fuck buddies to girlfriends, certainty isn’t sure how she got quite this lucky.
“What can I say, I’m a romantic.” She shrugs, a little too enthusiastic, shifts her weight quickly to stop the plates and mugs sliding across the tray. Looks sheepishly back to Yolanda who raises an eyebrow to tease before reaching out to take the tray off her, subconsciously wiggling with excitement when she sees the pancakes.
And yeah, Emery thinks, I’m so in love with this woman.
it’s not often trinity convinces baran to sleep in with her.
baran has a compulsive need to be useful. work typically quells this itch for her, but on her days off she gets moving early. yoga, errands, cleaning...trinity can usually hear her moving around as early as 6am, the smell of coffee and breakfast filling the apartment.
however, after particularly rough days, baran is filled with an exhaustion to even rival trinity's R2 fatigue. the days where nothing goes right in the ED, seizure days, the days after Kaveh goes back to his father...baran won't admit it, but it wears her down.
trinity can't always get baran to stay with her. yesterday had been rough. multi-car crash, multiple incoming pedes patients. baran has accommodations to avoid cases with children. however, she chose to step in and assist. trinity saw her duck into the bathroom later in the shift, came back out 5 minutes later with glassy eyes and a dark expression.
at 6am, baran turns to get out of bed. trinity curls baack over onto the older woman. asking her to stay.
