HI idk if you’ve seen the white lotus or not but the garsanshimi post you made today about deck hand trinity x yolanda x baran is rlly giving me white lotus vibes like that soooo gives the plot of some crazy lesbian variation of the white lotus and i love it so freaking much so major props to you 🙏🙏🙏
Ahh thank you!! It’s definitely has those vibes, but it comes from my deep love of below deck 😂 white lotus gives it all the drama though! And it’s gonna be a fun one to write, I already had too much fun with just the one piece of smut
From my belowdeckau!, after married Yolanda and Baran’s final day on the charter, they meet up with lead deck hand Trinity at a local club in Croatia.
Trinity didn’t set out to meet them in the club after their charter ended.
That was the story she was going with, anyways.
So if she happened to mention to them where she and a few of the crew were headed that evening once Yolanda and Baran were off the yacht, that was a complete coincidence. A complete, harmless coincidence.
Which is why she tried using that line on the two of them when she spotted them waiting for her in the club, like some sort of wet dream.
“How sweet,” Baran says, one of her hands resting on Yolanda’s thigh and a smile that is dangerous on her face, “she thinks we came to this club for fun.”
Trinity tries to keep her eyes on their faces. For fuck sakes, she’s spent the past few weeks seeing them on the boat in bikinis, in loose linen, with damp hair and sun-warm skin. Sometimes in significantly less if she walked inside at the wrong time and had to turn around so fast she nearly gave herself whiplash.
She should be used to how beautiful these women are by now.
Except somehow, in the dim red-light of the club, with Baran in a red dress and Yolanda in pants, that is worse.
It is so much worse.
It also makes her start throbbing.
“Then why are you here?” Trinity asks, even though she knows the answer before the words are out of her mouth. Yolanda rolls her eyes, but her hands are already reaching for Trinity’s waist. Yolanda pulls her in, their knees pressed against her thighs on either side, like Trinity has always meant to be in between them.
She’s grateful that she already has some alcohol in her system from back on the boat when her and Victoria, the second stew, did their makeup in the too small cabin. She doesn’t think she’d be able to handle this if she didn’t have some sort of liquid encouragement in her.
“I think you know the answer to that, you’re a smart girl,” Baran’s voice is nearly unbearably sweet as she reaches out and wraps her hand around Trinity’s wrist, pulling her even impossibly closer.
It’s probably pathetic, the way Trinity nods.
Their charter is over. The flirting has probably means nothing to them, or at least not the kind of thing it means to Trinity, who has spent the last two weeks pretending her pulse does not triple each time that either of them look at her. They are married for fuck sakes. They spent ten years loving each other and chartered a yacht that costs more for a week than Trinity’s entire first semester of medical school.
Still, Trinity wants Baran to think she is smart.
She wants Yolanda to keep looking at her like that.
She wants to be thought of by them at all.
It’s not as pathetic, though, as her letting the two of them stand up and pull her behind them without asking a single sensible question. Baran’s hand stays wrapped around her wrist as Yolanda's arm slips around Baran’s waist, directing them all to the back of the club where the unisex bathroom is.
She really should think harder about this. She has a few more charters left in the season, that she still needs this job to be able to afford to go to school in the fall, that the tips from Yolanda and Baran alone were enough that she could pay rent for a few months if she was careful. Even if Yolanda had said that Trinity is coming home with them, that was just her flirting. She just needs to remind herself that this is fun. Flirting like that comes naturally to women like Yolanda and Baran.
At least they aren’t her clients anymore, she won’t lose her job by letting them lock the bathroom door behind them.
Trinity takes a shaky inhale as Yolanda presses herself against Trinity’s back at the same time that Baran turns to face her.
It’s a terribly wonderful position to be in, caught between them, warm on both sides.
Yolanda whispers dirty words into her ears as Baran slips her hand down Trinity’s skirt and rests it on the outside of her underwear. Trinity lets out a whimper as she can feel Baran’s fingertips start to rub slowly against the wet spot that she hadn’t even known about until Baran’s fingers were teasing it. She wants to twist and turn, but Yolanda has a sturdy grip on her hips and her mouth is hot against Trinity’s neck. She tilts her head, closing her eyes for only a second before they pop open when Baran kisses her.
The noise that comes out of her is ungodly and makes a blush heat up her chest and cheeks as Yolanda just laughs against the shell of her ear in a way that feels too intimate.
“Baran, be nice to her,” Yolanda teases her wife and Trinity can hear the smile in her voice.
“Me?” Baran says and she’s smiling as she takes the hand that isn’t currently resting outside of Trinity’s underwear and brings it up to rest against Trinity’s jaw before she kisses her again.
It’s too much, but her thighs clench around Baran’s wrist anyways. She always wants more than she can have.
She’s ready to beg, but Baran won’t stop kissing her. She even keeps their mouths joined when Baran’s warm fingers finally slide into her underwear from the side and through her slick folds.
(She’ll learn months later that it was, in fact, Yolanda’s anniversary gift to Baran that she got to be the first one to make Trinity come.)
Trinity is panting by the time Baran finally pulls back, her big doe eyes already assessing Trinity. Trinity doesn’t does want to know what she finds when she looks at her.
“Oh, Yola,” Baran says, her eyes flicker behind Trinity and Trinity feels grateful not to be on the end of her eyes for a moment. She's not as lucky when Baran pushes inside of her with a finger and those doe eyes are back on her face. “That feel nice?” Baran asks and Trinity nods, all thoughts other than the two women touching her out the window.
“Trinity,” Yolanda says and Trinity turns her head to look at her and this time it’s Yolanda who kisses her.
Her groans only grow louder, once Yolanda stops kissing her, as one of her hands slips from it’s spot on her waist and pushes up Trinity’s shirt as Yolanda’s hand climbs her stomach until it reaches the soft swell of her breast.
“No bra?” she tsks against Trinity’s ear and Trinity whimpers. “See, Baran, I told you she was waiting for us.”
It doesn’t take long after that. Yolanda’s thumb circles her nipple over and over until Trinity is pushing her chest out, desperate for more. Another one of Baran’s fingers enters her and Trinity grabs for an arm.
She’s not sure who she’s touching at first, it’s all becoming too blurry with the red light and heat rising in her body. She’s sure she’s sweating at this point, but she doesn’t care. All she wants is them to keep touching her, to make her come.
“Such a good girl,” Baran says and she clenches around Baran’s fingers at the words. Baran lets out a quiet “fuck” herself before doubling her efforts and Trinity thinks she’s going to pass out it’s too good. Yolanda’s hand that isn’t plucking at a nipple, slides until it’s resting on Trinity’s stomach, undoing her in a way that makes her knees threaten to give out.
“Please,” she finds herself begging. For them to keep touching her, for them to stop touching her, for them to let her come, for them to let her stay.
Baran just slips her thumb down again, gathering more of the wetness that Trinity is sure coats Baran’s entire hand, and starts firmer circles around her clit and yes. That’s what she needs, she could almost cry.
They kiss her again, one after the other, until Trinity forgets everything but them.
“That’s it,” Yolanda coos against her ear and she’s twisting again. “Be a good girl and come on my wife’s fingers.”
That’s all it takes for her to come. Her nails dig into the arm that she’s still holding and she’s pretty sure she’s crying. She’s leaning forward and Baran’s hand that isn’t currently inside of her slides around the back of her neck. Her fingers start rubbing soothing circles against her overheated skin as she rests her forehead against Baran’s collarbone.
“Come back to our hotel room,” Baran says and she feels herself nodding against the bone. She’d text Victoria that she’d be back on the boat the next morning and to let the bosun know.
She can feel Yolanda pressing a kiss to the back of Baran’s hand where it rests on her neck before pressing on to Trinity’s head as well. She can feel each inhale and exhale as she tries to bring herself back from the clouds. Yolanda’s hand is steady against her stomach, keeping their bodies pressed together.
For a few quiet moments, she feels completely safe.
A small whimper escapes her before she can swallow it when Baran’s fingers slide out of her. When she opens her eyes, she nearly comes again as she turns to watch Baran slides her still wet fingers into Yolanda’s mouth with the softest “you were right, she has to come home with us.”
(It’s even later she learns it was Baran’s anniversary gift to Yolanda that she got to taste Trinity first.)
Trinity Santos working as a lead deck hand during the summers of her last years of undergrad on a yacht in Croatia. Trinity spending her summer after graduating undergrad trying to decide whether she needs to take a deferral to save enough money for medical school instead of just starting in the fall.
Yolanda and Baran renting out the yacht as a 10 year anniversary gift to each other.
Trinity trying to keep it professional around Yolanda and Baran who are insistent on flirting with her and touching her every chance that they get.
“Can’t you drive us on the jet ski?”
“No, Santos is going to be on the paddle board with me.”
“Trinity, please put on my sunscreen?”
Baran catches her early one morning with a baseball hat on that is definitely not part of her uniform and Trinity is sure she’s gonna get chewed out by her bosun, but instead he comes to her with red tipped ears letting her know that the boss told him that Trinity was not just permitted but encouraged to continue to wear the hat during this charter.
And God, Trinity is trying to keep it professional because she’s making more money than she’s ever seen working on this boat and she respects the boat owner.
Except they are getting more and more forward with her and she can’t stop blushing around them. Each time they get off the boat, they want Trinity to be the one accompanying them no matter how much it drives her fellow crew mates crazy. Yolanda buying her jewelry when they stop at places that could finance her entire fall semester. Baran grabbing her wrist, her arms, her waist to direct her.
One of the last nights of their charter and they are sitting on the deck while Trinity is cleaning up the toys and she overhears their not at all subtle conversations about anniversary presents until Baran coos at Yolanda that she knows who she wants as a present.
And finally Trinity just says “you’re going to make me lose my job.”
Yolanda smirks and says “good, we leave in a two days and you’re coming home with us” while Baran just grips Trinity’s arm and nods with those doe eyes that have Trinity in so much trouble.
putting scrambled eggs in the freezer to quick cool, forgetting about the eggs in the freezer, have to take out frozen scrambled eggs and now heat them in the microwave, then putting them in the fridge to cool after microwaving them too hot
Trinity had tried to be so careful. She waited until Baran’s breaths had evened out to do it. Most nights, it’d just be her wrist. Trinity would set two of her fingers against Baran’s wrist and wait until her own heartbeat wouldn't sound so loud in her ears.
lub-dub, lub-dub, lub-dub
Each pulse against the pads of her fingers would sooth Trinity in a way that nothing else could. No words from Baran about feeling positive about the meeting with her neurologist, or how Trinity really didn’t have to worry about her, could ever reach the same primal part of her that just needed the beating of her heart against her fingertips.
lub-dub, lub-dub, lub-dub
She was alive.
And the panic in Trinity’s chest would mostly settle until she could find some resemblance of sleep beside her. On nights that Baran had her son, Trinity would spend twisting back and forth, from side to side in her own bed in an apartment that was no longer feeling quite like home.
Unable to sleep with the unknowing.
How could she sleep when Baran could be dead twenty minutes away just like Marisol had been twelve years—
Sometimes, the wrist wasn’t enough.
Like tonight when that awful thought crawls into her and won’t let go. On those nights, she usually will wait until she’s sure that Baran is asleep, mouth open sleeping, to move her hand up her neck to rest her fingers on Baran’s carotid artery.
Nights like tonight when Marisol’s name and memory came back biting she needed the strongest pulse against her fingers so she couldn’t question whether it was her own pulse she was feeling.
having a lot of feelings about this one :') something about him sleeping with his backpack in the first one (zipped up) and in the second one leaving the backpack on the ground (unzipped)
i offer you baran al-hashimi who struggles with giving her partner space during an argument. who cannot just 'hit pause' and resume in thirty minutes. baran al-hashimi who thrives on clear, explicit communication, so when you keep saying "can we just put this aside for now" she is like "??? why???? don't you want to work this out????"
baran al-hashimi who needs to talk it all the way through in order to process it fully and get it resolved, otherwise she'll just walk around feeling off-kilter and still upset. baran al-hashimi who will keep presenting different angles of her argument when you're trying to take a breather because she wants to get it all out, not to put more stress on you or to make you feel guilty, but that's just how her brain works: put everything on the table so we can fix it!!!
Do you think there was ever a point when Whitaker was interrupting her during a movie or tv show that Trinity just looked over and thought fuck?
Because now she had a new best friend. Someone who she had inside jokes with, someone that slept in the same apartment as her that she had started to sleep with her door unlocked around?
And she’d never admit it, but she had been so lonely before (so lonely she had become kind in it). lonely enough to let in a man after knowing him only during one of the top 10 worst days of her life.
Meanwhile Dennis probably has no fucking clue this revelation is happening and just pauses the TV to ask what the muppets were again.
“Oh my god, I actually don’t know how to explain it to you again.”
“I’m sorry that I didn’t grow up with a tv.”
And she’d just laugh but at the same time try to blink away the tears from her eyes without him seeing.
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