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I am begging someone to write a fic about Officer Eva Imani coming into the Pitt when Baran is working - it’s only her 4/5th shift so no one knows much about Baran yet. BUT they’re married (slightly ooc since Baran is technically a single mom but let’s pretend they just got that wrong). Baran is treating Eva for some injuries, they’re whispering to each other in Farsi talking about their 4 year old (who shows up later when grandma brings him to visit his moms). Baran slightly opens up to some of her new coworkers.
the thing is, everyone kept saying 'just wait, they aren't getting rid of/ reducing the screentime of every woc in the show. you're being dramatic. baran will be in the next season, victoria's rotation won't even be over in three months!' and here we are with no heather, no samira, sepideh saying she doesn't know how many episodes she'll be in, and shabana confirming that victoria won't be around much. like at this point it's just getting ridiculous.
in which mowalsh are childhood friends until a falling out breaks them apart for fifteen years
this is just a backstory premise I’ve legit just thought of it lol
tagging @softandsentimental @targ-bastard @dietcoke-and-daisies because this took me way longer than twenty minutes
angst and sadness awaits! but also homophobic language/ internalised homophobia and a brief mention of vomiting, lucky us.
it starts when Samira’s dad dies.
And when she has to move.
And when she gets thrust into a new school feeling much smaller than her thirteen-year-old body is, everything bigger, everything sharper, a little more painful than it should be.
And when she’s buddied up with some tiny, dark-haired girl with a wicked grin and colourful hoodie that she never seems to take off.
Emery Walsh, at nearly fourteen-years-of-age, is downright feral. With four brothers (three older, one younger, a twin), nobody’s really surprised at the way she acts. She behaves like every other Walsh child, sporty and loud and rough but insanely clever.
That, and unbelievably kind.
Samira needs a gentler touch, Emery realises pretty quick. She doesn’t play sports or talk very loudly, hell, she looks terrified of everything half of the time, so she’s going to have to switch up her game.
She drags Samira to her soccer practice, makes her sit in the bleachers to watch her, doesn’t care that she sits up on the cold metal and does her homework until Emery’s all dirty and sweaty.
It gives her somewhere to be, where she’s safe and has someone to look out for her.
Samira has a hard time getting rid of Emery after that.
Emery walks Samira to the cafeteria and keeps people from cutting in line in front of them.
Emery walks Samira to her class and keeps the bullies away.
Emery even walks Samira home, though it’s in the opposite direction to her own.
Samira doesn’t know why Emery sticks to her the way she does, but she has to admit, it’s nice to have a friend.
They never really separate either.
They learn each other’s favourite films. Samira likes the Princess Bride. Emery likes Thirteen (even though it’s rated R and they’re not old enough to watch it). They’d fallen asleep countless times watching it on Emery’s brother’s shitty VHS.
Emery gets a pair of earbuds for her birthday and they listen together, a pod each. Emery likes heavy metal. Samira likes *NSYNC. They settle on Evanescence but Samira makes Emery learn the dances anyway.
Sometimes, Emery will follow Samira all the way home like a stray dog and crawl into bed with her, curling them together as if they were sheltering from a storm.
Sometimes, Samira does the same with Emery, cuddling into her chest in Emery’s bed as she sobs about her dad, even though he’s been gone for years now.
The Walsh’s become her second family.
Where she lost her father, she gains four brothers.
Where she had no peace at home, she gets her own corner to study and be left in comfortable silence.
Where her bed felt empty and alone, Emery’s is warm and comfortable in the strength of her best friend’s arms.
Emery’s mom always jokes she’s the sixth Walsh, the final girl in the family, a sentiment Samira always smiles at.
They make a pact when they’re fourteen, something dumb they’d thought up when Emery had somehow snuck a bottle of Smirnoff into a sleepover and they’d had it between them.
They were going to do everything together.
Go to the same schools, never marry, never have kids to bog them down, just be the greatest doctors in the world and die with sainthoods under their names. They would never be apart.
It lasts until their final year prom.
Samira’s known Emery was gay since they were fifteen.
She has no problem with it.
She’s been around Emery’s numerous girlfriends before, most of them annoying as fuck and always getting in the way of their plans, though they never last long.
But Sara H. from their economics class is easily the worst one she’s had by far.
Sara H always complains that Samira hangs around them like a bad smell and doesn’t she have anything better to do? something both Samira and Emery laugh at her for. Not really, is usually the answer.
Which is why Samira can’t comprehend how in the world Emery is going to prom with her.
It’s not really an argument. Not to begin with.
Samira curtly points out that they were supposed to be going together, reminds Emery that they’d got matching corsages just to laugh at all the other couples, hopes it’ll jog her memory.
but Emery simply shakes her head and sighs.
“Sorry, I’ve already asked her.”
Samira knows she shouldn’t be harsh, but Sara H, really?
“Do you even like her, Em?”
“Of course I do.”
“So what am I supposed to do? Go by myself?”
“No, I’m sure you could get a date. Hey, we could go as a double-“
“Forget it.”
She storms off before Emery can say anything else. She regrets it as quickly as she gets up, wants to turn around and say she’s sorry for being such a baby, but her legs are carrying her out of the canteen and across campus quicker than she can think.
It takes her a day to work up the courage to apologise but Sara H. beats her to it, storming up to her after lunch with a face like thunder.
“You’re such a fucking bitch, Mohan.”
She’s heard the rumour before, mostly from girls that watch Emery and Samira get changed in their phys ed locker room, heard them giggle when they think Samira and Emery are about to lez out in front of everyone.
I swear they’re glued to the hip.
Do they ever separate?
Haven’t you heard? Mohan and Walsh are totally scissor sisters.
Walsh maybe. Mohan’s totally into it though. Emery would do anything for her.
Emery always laughs before they can meet each other’s eyes. They both know how ridiculous it is, being in love with each other.
Samira’s not like that.
She’s not…
She’s straight.
She’s just not as good at flirting as Emery is.
Samira stands and lets Sara H chew her out on the field, listening to every venomous word with mild disinterest, secretly a little over the moon that Emery’s dumped this cow so they can go to prom together.
Still, she has to stand up for herself a little bit.
“I didn’t ask Emery to break up with you, Sara.”
“Of course you fucking did, I’m not stupid. Neither is she. Emery would do anything you want her to, and we all know why.”
“What?”
“Oh please, don’t act like you don’t know! Emery can never keep a girlfriend down because you hate them so much and she’ll do anything you say because she wants you to want her so fucking bad! It’s really amazing you haven’t fucked yet, everyone in the school thinks you’re already together anyway. It’s why you’re such a fucking prude with everyone else, Mohan, you think you’re above it all because Emery’s hung the fucking moon.”
Sara H. practically disappears before Samira can even process that.
Emery wants to fuck her.
Emery wants her to fuck her.
Did the whole school really think that?
Didn’t they all know she’s straight?
Fuck ‘em, she decides, she doesn’t need Emery. Doesn’t need matching corsages or some stupid dance they’d memorised to use on the dance floor.
No, what she needed was to make a fucking point.
She’d go to prom. She’d go with a date that was a boy and show everyone that Samira Mohan is completely and utterly straight.
The problem is, she doesn’t know any boys. She doesn’t really have any friends apart from Emery. There was never any need.
The only boys she does know all share the same unfortunate surname.
Walsh.
She should’ve, in hindsight, predicted that when asking one of Emery’s brothers to prom that it would’ve got back to her.
She can only ask one of them anyway.
Sonny is younger than Emery by twelve minutes, and the only one of her brothers that was still in the same level of school as them. He’s the only one eligible to go to their prom and as far as Samira knows, he doesn’t have a girl to take either.
She kisses him behind the gymnasium when he finally asks her, and hates it.
It’s not him, she knows that.
He’s a perfect gentleman about it, but it feels wrong.
He’s too tall, his hands are too big and his chin is scratchy where his beard was coming in.
He’s not…
He’s not right.
That’s where the argument really starts.
Emery corners her after school, having ignored her all day and only catching her now.
“My brother? Really? That’s how you’re taking it out on me?”
“I’m not taking anything out on you, Emery.”
“No? You haven’t spoken to me in days. I literally broke up with my girlfriend so you’d stop being pissy with me-“
“I didn’t ask you to do that!”
“You didn’t have to! You said you wanted to go together!”
“You could’ve said no! I would’ve been fine.”
“I did!” Emery points out indignantly. “And then you flounced off without another word and didn’t speak to me again! How fine is that?”
“You suggested a double date.”
“Which you easily could’ve gotten, I could’ve helped you-“
“I don’t need your fucking help, Em.”
She’s never spoken to her like that before. It’s not even often that Samira even swears but she’s angry, and upset and at this point, she’s just confused.
Emery looks much the same.
“I don’t need your help, Emery.” She manages a little calmer but she can still hear her voice trembling. “I can find my own date. I’m not your girlfriend.”
She’s not sure why she adds the last part. Maybe to make it hurt a little more, maybe to make Emery back off, but she’s not certain who of them it actually stings more.
Emery it must be, given the look on her face.
“I…I know you’re not…what the fuck, Sam?”
“I’m not your fucking girlfriend, Emery, so stop acting like I am!” She’s found where it hurts now, all she can do is twist. “I don’t need you to hold my fucking hand or get me a date or any of it. I don’t need you! I’m…I’m not like you.”
That lands on Emery like a slap to the face.
She’s never seen her best friend cry until now, not like this anyway. Once when Emery had dislocated her knee in a soccer game, but this is a different kind of crying.
This is a pure sob of heartbreak, hidden behind Emery’s rainbow coloured sleeve before bursting out in hot, teary rage.
“Fuck you! You’re just like everyone else. Fuck you! How the fuck can you say that?”
Samira immediately knows she’s gone too far, that she’s actually hurt Emery, but by the time she’s reaching out to say sorry and hold her close like they did when they were children, Emery shoves her away.
Hard enough to put her on her ass.
They look between each other, frightened and horrified, something changing between them, something breaking. Samira can’t find the words. And Emery can’t bear to look at her.
It was the last set of words they exchanged for nearly twenty years.
Sure, they saw each other around in their final days of school but never a word was exchanged, never a hand offered out.
Samira gets teased and pushed around, even now, even when they’re about to graduate. Emery watches it all, scowling and unhappy.
Whatever stubbornness they both possessed, it was playing for keeps now.
Samira skips out on prom in the end, leaves poor Sonny outside her door in the dark, pretending she’s not home. She sees the pictures on social media later, of Emery dancing with their classmates, with her arms thrown around their shoulders, enjoying the night without her.
Still, even after that, they don’t speak, only orbit around each other.
Emery takes her college acceptance letter without a word and Samira, having applied to the same school, withdraws her application with much the same fanfare.
She goes to a school in New York instead.
It’s strange to go and not be buddied up with some feral fourteen year old again, to not be dorming with some middle-school jocky kid who never took off her damn rainbow hoodie.
She felt thirteen again.
Much too small in a world that was much too big.
But she copes, mostly, without Emery.
She completes med-school, gets her degree, even manages a few heterosexual fumbles here and there.
Not enough to enjoy it, but enough that she gets off when she needs to. Enough to say she’s an adult now.
An adult who works at the Pittsburgh Trauma Medical Centre.
And she’s happy there on her own, really she is, but there’s always that little part of her that snips at the back of her mind, that reminds her of the drunken little scar on the palm of her hand when she’s doing a suture.
Of the promise she made to her friend.
It had been so long without Emery that Samira had almost forgotten what she looked like, bright features fading into a pale canvas of nothing, her laughter only an echo in the back of her head.
That was until her fourth month in the Pitt, and someone pages a surgery consult and it’s not Shen, or Ellis, or Shamsi or Garcia or anyone it’s-
It’s Emery.
Bold, fiery, fearless Emery Walsh.
Except this Emery Walsh is older and colder, sharper and taller.
This Emery Walsh wears her hair in a tight low bun instead of a messy ponytail and dark-blue scrubs instead of a brightly coloured hoodie. Her eyes are stern and steady, a far-cry from the teenager who had been so bright and so happy all the time.
The only thing that girl had left here were the crow’s feet marks at the corner of this replicant’s eyes.
This Emery Walsh carried years of pain on her and hid it well. The loss of her best friend, the shame and loathing afterwards, the death of her dad two years ago whose obit had been in the same paper Samira read.
Everything.
And it all pours into her expression when she sees Samira Mohan staring at her from across the Emergency Department.
All the pain, all the grief, the isolation, the longing, every memory they had together.
All suddenly standing no more than twenty feet away, looking back at her with wide eyes the same way they’d done then, when Emery had shoved her to the ground.
Frightened and confused.
Something is here with them, soft and slipping, a wound slowly being reopened.
Emery slams back through the doors and disappears down the hallway before anyone can stop her, forgetting all about the consult she’d been paged for.
She throws up into the first bathroom she finds, hands shaking as she gripped the rim of the bowl, shuddering through a sharp chill.
As much as she’d wanted to forget her, Samira Mohan’s face burns into her mind as surely as the bile that rises again in her throat.
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Mostly Barantos, McVadi, some Crashtos, and a few others!
I am putting them under the cut because this is a loooooong post.
Oh also all the summaries are my personal thoughts about the fic, with the occasional line from the actual summary or story, so they may contain very minor spoilers for things that happen early on in the story.
Barantos:
Red Dress by BirdyQueen (50k, M, complete)
First long fic I read for The Pitt, probably one of the best known Barantos fics, and for good reason. It's a 'wrong number' AU, where Trinity receives a text from an unknown number containing a photo of a woman turned away from the camera wearing a red dress. Well known for a reason, this fic is delightfully fun and sweet, with dashes of necessary drama.
I'm on Fire by earthprincess (46k, E, in-progress)
Another hugely popular Barantos fic. Basically, Trinity draws Baran in by being a brat. This fic is a lot more than that, but that's a huge part of it. Al-Hashimi is bossy, a little possessive, but also deeply caring and Trinity falls into an interesting new charged dynamic with her that continues to evolve through the fic.
if you want me, i'll be right there by m_oliverfan (64k, complete)
INCREDIBLE fic, an instant favourite of mine. All these fics are incredible, but for me this one just hits all the best notes. Trinity, in the spur of the moment, offers to watch Baran's son so Baran can join the Pitt staff on a night out. A slow, tender spiral of gradually entangled lives ensues. Amazingly well written, the dialogue is incredible, it's tender, funny, and just a little bit devastating. Cannot recommend enough
Unknown Number by focusonmila (33k, M, in-progress)
Unknown number texting AU! Trinity gets a text from a stranger telling her her number was written in a bar bathroom stall along with a note saying 'Are you a therapist? If so, call #. She needs one!' This fic is a mixed media fic alternating between chapters of text conversations and traditional prose. It's crack, so you have to be okay with some suspension of disbelief and tweaking of character personalities, but this is fanfiction, and fanfiction for a pairing that I can be argued demands a level of disbelief regardless, so once you settle into it it's an absolute joy.
so forgive me if i jump (at the rattle of your keys) by Bugsquads (53k, E, complete)
Amazing, amazing fic that creates a unique and memorable plot. The inciting incident of this fic is traumatic and involveds drugs and gun violence, just a heads up, but coming through that and learning how to cope after is a main theme of the fic. Baran and Trinity experience a truly awful day at work, and find that sometimes you just need a person who understands before you can start to heal. Simply cannot recommend this fic enough.
idle worship by sapphic_thots (44k, M, in-progress)
God this is another incredible one. I sound like a broken record but that's truly just because these authors are so freakishly talented. Robbie has just left on his sabbatical, and on the way to work several hours early the next day, Trinity passes Al-Hashimi asleep behind the wheel in the parking lot. An impromptu breakfast and the 24 hour diner across from the hospital leaves Trinity feeling unmoored, and questioning the people she's put her faith in. An indulgently slow burn, absolutely decadent.
behind the red in my eyes by Dinosauntor (103k, not rated, in-progress)
I'll be honest, I started this one and got to where it was at that point and am now behind, but I remember that it is fantastic. New attending Dr. Al-Hashimi takes a special interest in R2 Trinity Santos. No one is sure what to make of the dynamic, but there's definitely something there. Lots of tension and weird (positive) flirting in this one. Characterization, especially for Al-Hashimi, is different from the show, but internal to the story it works.
kiss it better, baby [series] by wh1temustang (17K, T-E, 3 completed works)
The first two works in this series are shorter, the first following Trinity and Baran after that first day, deciding they could both use some company and discussing what they've learned about each other in that long, chaotic first shift. The second follows Trinity having a rough day at work curtsey of her chronic headaches, and Baran noticing things, like the fact a certain surgical resident seems to know a lot about Trinity. Third one is longer and has a different vibe, but it also has a kitten being rescued by Trinity and adopted by a reluctant attending, so I am not complaining.
Double Shift by BirdyQueen (22k, G, in-progress)
A return of another one of my favorite authors (seriously if you want more fics that aren't on this list just check out the authors, I guarantee other fics my them will also be bangers.) After finding out the kid she corralled from wandering around the ER is Al-Hashimi's son, brought to sit in the break room while his mom is unexpectedly stuck working a double, Trinity offers to babysit. Cue Trinity, Whitaker, Al-Hashimi's lives becoming rapidly enmeshed thanks to a sharp, sweet, adorable kid. Big Whitsantos sibling vibes in this one, huge bonus for me personally (and everyone else honestly, who doesn't love Whitsantos sibling-ism.)
one look, dark room by m_oliverfan (10k, not rated, complete)
A one-shot of all time for me, honestly. Trinity, on a night out at the bar, takes the opportunity to toss her drink on an entitled man when she notices him badgering a woman who has made it clear she isn't interested. After a refreshing conversation at the bar, Trinity and Baran strike up a friendship, with the only rule being that, thanks to both having stressful jobs they'd like a bit of an escape from, they don't talk about work. This fic is cozy, sweet, and brilliantly paced and written. The kind of fic that somehow managed to instill a cozy feeling adjacent to nostalgia.
the seven ex-lives of dr. trinity santos by zeniksnina (9k, T, complete)
The format of this fic is a bit of a departure from the norm, as it takes place on Reddit. Reddit discovers that niche gymnastics celebrity, Trinity Santos, who left gymnastics suddenly after qualifying for the Olympics, might now be a hot doctor at an ER in Pittsburgh? A mostly Trinity focused fic with sprinkles of Barantos, I love this fic so much. Another author who nails internet speak and vibes.
Melt in the Oven of the Mouth by cheekylittlelezzer (40k, E, in-progress)
When I say I can't get enough fics about Barantos stumbling into becoming a family unit with Baran's son I MEAN IT. This one, on top of being adorable, is also HOT. Trinity starts helping Baran out with babysitting, except Trinity is also sometimes a shameless flirt. There's no harm in it, as long as that's all it is. (Baran does make a valliant effort to keep it that way, really she does.) This is one of the fics that RAPIDLY became a favourite of mine.
wet teeth, shining eyes by sapphic_thots (5k, T, complete)
Trinity is great with kids, as much as she might deny to enjoying working with them, and that is no exception when a little boy comes into the hospital with an injury from soccer camp. What she doesn't know, though, is that this little patient happens to be her attending's son, and that in this case patient rapport might also earn you the world's tiniest wingman. This is not just one of my favourite short fics, it's just a favorite, period.
Pretty Lady with the Green Eyes anonymous (7k, M, in-progress)
Very new fic, it only has two chapters so far but I was instantly enraptured by the world this fic is forming. Trinity has a yellow lump of a rescue dog named banana bag, and while walking him in the park one day ends up encountering a little boy having a rough time. The writing of this fic is so charming, and the characters unique to this fic already feel alive in a way that is rare to establish so early in a story. All my fingers and toes are crossed for more chapters of this fic.
Abandoned Mines by BirdyQueen (2k, T, complete)
Super short, chaotic, delightful little fic. Trinity and Whitaker are trying out some urbex on their day off, and Trinity ends up in the ER as a patient, being treated by Dr. Al-Hashimi. The painkillers loosen her tongue, to hilarious effect.
strangelove by dilfmckay (5k, T, complete)
Established relationship/5+1/secret relationship fic. Five times Baran and Trinity are almost caught, and one time they are. A short, fun fic.
You Taste like a Reason by TheGayBaker (6k, M, complete)
Trinity gets sucked into Mother's Day plans with Baran and her son. A cute little fic, cozy, a great short read.
Last Minute Babysitter by AmmeDead (8k, G, complete)
Just a really cute little fic about Trinity babysitting Baran's son. Can you tell I'm a sucker for those fics? (But also, like, can you blame me?)
What if? by garbarsantos (17k, E, re-upload in-progress)
A fantastic, relatively well known fic in the process of a re-upload and it is EVEN BETTER than the amazing story it was before. Trinity runs into Baran at a gay bar, and after a night of growing closer from coworkers to friends, things continue to special from there. Even if you read this fic when it was originally posted, I highly suggest checking out the re-upload, it was a great fic before but the dialogue especially has gotten even better.
the morning after never ended by garbarsantos (30k, E, in-progress)
I'm not actually up to date on this fic, but I've read the first few chapters and garbarsantos is amazing, so still highly recommend. Fic takes place two weeks after Trinity and Al-Hashimi hooked up, and Al-Hashimi is avoiding Trinity as best as she can after her lapse in professional judgement.
if it isn't love, then what the fuck is it? by librarylesbian (41k, M, in-progress)
I somehow missed this in the list initially, which is insane because I love this fic. It takes place after Dr. Robby has left for his sabbatical, and things continue on pretty similar to that first day, which unfortunately for Trinity means under the close watchful gaze of Dr. Al-Hashimi. After a particularly long day of feeling hounded by Al-Hashimi, Trinity vents her frustrations to Whitaker, not realizing the subject of her ire is, well, right there. After this Baran decides she might need to take a new approach to coaching the talented but prickly R2. Another fic my summary can't do justice to, but it is amazing and a great mix of funny and soft and the characterization and dialogue is so good.
McVadi:
to be good by castlesprod (7k, E, complete)
I've seen dialog from this used in a McVadi fan edit and honestly. . . impeccable. Who doesn't love some good old McKay guilt? Victoria goes to McKay after a shift looking for company and comfort and to get away from the pressure of her family, and the relief of finally being seen and listened to brings up certain other feelings that both McKay and Javadi know they shouldn't indulge. . .
new dog old tricks by overnights (23k, E, complete)
I have a few fics by overnights on here, but honestly check them all out, they are all so worth it. This one is Javadi seeing McKay at a lesbian bar, flirting with a woman not much older than Victoria, and the discovery shifts Victoria's world on its axis. Victoria is just as witty, blunt, and fiesty as she should be. And also as obsessive.
class of 2013 by soupishie (17k, E, complete)
After finding and comforting a distressed Javadi, McKay finds out about Garcia's 'nepo baby' comment to Victoria, and her reaction is more revealing than she intended. Garcia, not one to pull punches, pointedly questions where this level of reaction is coming from, leaving McKay and Javadi to reckon with the unspoken thing that underlies their dynamic. I, personally, THRIVE on guilty/rage filled McKay. People need to let that woman lash out more often, honestly. Fantastic fic.
Hanging On the Telephone by potbears (25k, E, in-progress)
I'm not gonna lie, even just thinking about this fic makes me blush a little. This is a fic that earns its rating, and does it in spectacular fashion. Victoria has a massive crush on McKay, but can't figure out for sure if she's misreading things on McKay's end. Unfortunately (or fortunately) for Victoria, Trinity has picked up on her infatuation with McKay and teases her incessantly, only making Victoria more worked up. McKay doesn't seem like she's going to do anything about it, but Trinity is more than willing to help.
after all, it was a great big world by anonymous (17k, E, complete)
A McVadi fic of all time, for me. A scrumptious combination of Cassie McKay guilt and Victoria Javadi tenacious brattiness. Cassie and Victoria are friends, and Cassie is good at convincing herself that it's very normal and appropriate. . . except that's a lie and she absolutely knows it. One of the tags is 'psychologically torturing your boss into taking your virginity' and that is both hilarious and a great summary of the fic. Importantly, between everything else, the fic is also enchantingly tender.
Crush by lalisctrl (11k, E, complete)
AU in which Cassie is machanic, and Victoria is her son Harrison's teacher. Although this is a shorter multi chapter fic, it is one of those that is so seamlessly executed that it feels much longer than it is, in the sense that it creates a whole world with well developed characters and a full plot that stick with you. I love this fic.
wicked games by allrotted (16k, E, complete)
This fic might not be everyone's cup of tea and that's valid, but it's also so so so good. Read the tags to know if it's something you're comfortable/interested in reading. Cassie McKay meets Eileen Shamsi in the supermarket, and the two wind up in a comfortable, if not exciting relationship, and it's nice. . . until Cassie meets Eileen's sharp, independent, brat of a daughter. (Yeah, like I said, not everyone's cup of tea, but if you're looking for something that knows it's fucked up and still goes full in. . . this fic excels at that.)
Pulling Strings by motor_mouse (14k, M, complete)
Victoria has been feeling increasingly strangled by the puppet strings controlling her life. She tries to loosen her binds on her 21st birthday, and it ends up drawing her closer to Cassie McKay. My summary isn't doing it justice, but it really is a good fic.
Everybody Works by Femslashordie (44k, M, in-progress)
OBSESSED with this fic. CRIMINALLY underrated fic. To be honest, I initially skipped over it to because the premise didn't sound like my thing, but oh boy am I glad I went back and tried it anyway. It's a 'yachtie' AU, where Cassie is the new bosun aboard a ship staffed by all our favourite characters. It's a heavy ensemble fic, with each chapter having a different character's POV. The world and setting built in this story is PHENOMENAL, I genuinely cannot speak highly enough of this fic.
Crashtos:
star six seven by overnights (12k, not rated, complete)
What did I say? overnights writes great fics! This is an absolutely hilarious Crashtos mixed media AU, where Victoria is forced to take over the official Twitter page for The Pitt after her TikTok is revealed to HR. The fic nails internet speak and humour, and there are countless easter eggs hidden throughout. Crashtos banter galore. A favourite of mine, without a doubt.
antagonism in a non-professional capacity by cowardnthief (32k, complete)
The girls are bad and communication but they are so so good and antagonism. Trinity kisses Victoria in the bar bathroom on Victoria's 21st birthday, and then proceeds to be obnoxiously normal about it. It drives Victoria crazy. This fix nails the dialogue and texting, and antagonism as flirting. One of the first Crashtos fics to make it on my favorites list.
head above water by overnights (18k, E, complete)
Speaking of early favourite Crashtos fics, I think this is the second one I ever read? Hilarious, hot, and shockingly cozy. Victoria has just moved into a new place of her own, and is having the deeply relatable experience of questioning your life choices thanks to IKEA furniture. Running out of ideas, and accepting that she is likely going to get shit about this for the next millenium, she texts Trinity. Turns out making a new place feel like home is easier with the help of. . . friends?
methods of resuscitation by cowardnthief (15k, complete)
Hot, hot, very hot. Also hilarious in a dry, understated way that fits Trinity and Javadi so well. Trinity is Eileen Shamsi's surgical protege, and Victoria hates her for it. Bratty, sassy Victoria and cocky, flirty Santos. Delightful concept, flawless execution.
i only threw this party for you by flowrday (9k, M, complete)
Trinity may have a bit of a crush on Victoria, but unfortunately for Trinity her expressions of affection via nicknames and 'gentle' bullying don't seem to be coming across the right way. Whitaker, being a good friend and occational Trinity-translator, suggests an alternative tactic, which leads to Trinity planning a birthday party for Victoria.
you and me on the coin by exactlyemma (30k, T, complete)
Social media AU where doctor & influencer Victoria Javadi gets asked to do an interview with her celebrity crush, actress Trinity Santos who plays a doctor on TV. And promplty falls on her ass. A criminally underrated fic, in my opinion. Witty, sassy, cute, clever, this fic is just beyond delightful, honestly.
Mentos:
In the Quiet After by c8_3mo (14k, T, complete)
Trinity and Mel end up retreating to the same quiet spot for reprieve from the choas of the hospital. Through a combination of shared space, silence, and occasional conversation Trinity and Mel forge a new relationship. Fantastically written, feels almost like a series of vingettes at times giving us glimpses into the characters lives.
if you are intolerable, let me be the one to tolerate you by fauchevalent (1.7k, not rated, complete)
Short, sweet, tender little fic. A patient makes an awful comment about Trinity, and Mel needs Trinity to know it isn't true.
lip gloss lover by anacoluthons (10k, E, complete)
Interestingly, despite mostly reading Barantos/Crashtos/McVadi now, Mentos was the first paring I read Pitt fic for. This is one of the earliest fics I read, and it stuck with me for the funny, cozy, tender vibes (despite it also being explicit.) Trinity finds out Mel has never been to a sleepover before, and plans a classic slumber party style sleepover to fix that. (Bonus Whitsantos being adorkable roommates, although Whitaker gets sexiled pretty quickly.)
Misc.
we can share, babe (there's enough for us all) by flowrday (6k, M, complete)
Bluntos fic!!! The ER has a running bet on who Trinity is dating. A 5 + 1 fic. Honestly just a well written, fun, goofy fic. Let these women have fun.
i pretend you're mine (all the damn time) by flowrday (11k, M, complete)
One of the only fics I've ever read for Samira/Trinity, as it wasn't a dynamic I personally saw as romantic, but this fic won me over. It doesn't hurt that it employed two of my favourite tropes, which are road trips and fake dating. Trinity is returning home for the wedding of a high school friend, and unfortunately already told people she was seeing someone. Cue Samira volunteering to help out. (This author has written quite a few fics for The Pitt, a few of which are on here, but I highly recommend you check out the rest as well.)
one thing they forgot to include for the pwhl expansion was the sound that plays when someone dies in the hunger games. every time someone is signed away there should have been a global canon sound effect for everyone who cares about woho
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who tells her girls she’s going to drive separately one morning because she thinks she’ll have to stay late to sort some admin stuff with emery post-shift
yolanda who waits until baran and trinity have left and then crawls back into bed and calls in sick to work
baran only finds this out when she calls for a surgical consult and it’s not yolanda but a resident who is clearly unsure of the exact right call to make. so she asks, where is doctor garcia?
oh, she’s not working today, she called out sick, i can page doctor shamsi though, and baran is grateful that mckay jumps in to ask them to do just that because baran is still stuck on the she called out sick part
because yolanda was fine this morning, or at least, as close to fine as she’s been recently, tired, exhausted even, she can’t remember the last time she saw her smile truly
after she’s dealt with the trauma, she finds a couple of minutes to try and call yolanda’s cell, chewing anxiously on her lip as it rings out with no answer. trinity is just as worried when baran manages to corner her to ask her quietly if she knows anything.
but they’re both stuck at work and they can’t just up and leave. yolanda very occasionally gets migraines so maybe it’s just that, baran reasons, that for once she listened to her body instead of tried to push through
it’s the best she can offer herself, the best thing she can think of to convince herself, to her to push the rest of her worry down enough to get on with her job
and by the time handovers are done, baran and trinity are both practically sprinting out the door to get home and check on their girlfriend
their girlfriend, who they find still in bed, eyes red and sniffling quietly as they crack the door open. who tries her best to make it look like that isn’t the case. who pushes baran’s hands away from her when they try to flutter around her checking her for anything wrong
who when asked why she didn’t tell them she was sick, says angrily and full of self loathing, because i’m not! there’s just, something fucking wrong with me! i can’t get past this feeling like there’s something lodged in my chest and it’s- everything is so hard right now
baby, that’s normal, you’re grieving, this is grief trinity tells her gently, as she watches yolanda refuses to let baran take her hand
no! no it can’t be. because everyone else grieves and they’re all fucking fine. and it’s not even like it was a shock, she was in her 90s and she was sick anyway, we all knew it was coming. terrible shit happens to people every day, we all see it, and everyone fucking manages better than this! she’s shouting now without meaning to, frustrated and angry and aching.
yola this isn’t the bad things olympics, it’s all relative, baran says, gives up on the physical comfort, instead works on collecting the tissues scattered around the bed as she talks. what hurts for one person, doesn’t hurt the same for another. your abuelita was such an important part of your life for you.
stop it! stop trying to coddle me! i know im being stupid, i know i should be handling it better, but i dont know how, ive never lost anyone i loved before
we're not coddling you yola, jesus christ. trinity snaps, ignores the way baran shoots her a look to try and get her to rein in her tone. there is no guidebook on how you're supposed to deal with this! its grief, it's fucking terrible and it stays fucking terrible for a long time, sometimes even forever! its shit and it hurts and sitting here denying yourself the opportunity to grieve fully because you've got it in your head that, what? you havent suffered enough before to be allowed to do so?
trinity is breathing a touch heavy from the outburst, baran has gone still watching yolanda warily and yolanda...just stares back at trinity with watery eyes
because now she really does feel stupid. feels stupid now that its been laid out plainly to her what she's been doing to herself. how, if it was anyone else in her position, she'd give them more leeway than she's given herself. feels especially stupid because all she's wanted this entire time is someone next to her because she's felt so damn lonely in her emotions
and she's been too busy convincing herself those people can't be her girlfriends
oh my love, baran says softly as yolanda's bottom lip wobbles, and somehow she's not out of tears yet, the difference now is that when baran tentatively reaches out towards her she latches on to her girlfriend, sobbing messily into the crook of her neck, great shuddering breaths as she does.
they dont tell her to stop crying or try to calm her down even, or say everything will be okay, and she sobs and sobs and sobs, bawls her eyes out until she's actually out of tears this time
by the time she pulls away from the security of baran's arms, there's three mugs of tea on the nightstand and trinity sitting beside them, smiling sadly at her. sorry for being a bit harsh with you, baby.
no- tries desperately to clear some of the hoarsness from her throat, takes the proffered tea from trinity gratefully, no i think i needed to hear it. i've just been...so stuck amongst it all, i didn't know what to do. im not sure the softly, softly approach was working
softly, softly has never been your style, baran laughs, brushes some of yolanda's hair away from where it had become stuck on her tear tracks, you can feel however you want to feel about this yola, we just wanna be here for you. even if that's just to make sure you eat something, or listen to what you're thinking about or hold you for a bit
you just gotta talk to us, trinity chimes in, adds when both baran and yolanda raise a disbelieving eyebrow at her, hey! do as i say not as i do!
she's right on the first part if nothing else, baran smiles, think you can try for us?
and for anyone else she'd tell them where they can shove it, but for her girls, yeah, i can try
full credit of hoh!emery goes to @dietcoke-and-daisies (the goat)
It’s in their fourth year that Emery’s hearing gets profoundly worse.
It hadn’t been fantastic to begin with, more of an occasional strain when she got tired or overwhelmed rather than an outright loss but now, now it was becoming a near-constant struggle in her left ear.
Samira found herself having entire conversations by herself if she washed the dishes on Emery’s left side, the sound of her voice having to loop around Emery’s head where only half the words seemed to catch and had to be repeated.
The first SRT appointment had recorded Emery’s hearing in her left ear to be between 21 and 40 db, a nifty little diagnosis that had scored her a tiny aid that slotted just behind her ear and was kept, somewhat lovingly, in a drawer in their bedside table.
That had been three years ago.
Since then, she’d done countless shifts in a blaring hospital, found herself trying to ID surgeries in the middle of a screaming ambulance bay and, much to Samira’s chagrin, gotten barrier at an many a rock concert, letting the bass speakers bleed into her ears until they hurt.
Her next SRT appointment records her left ear at 41-70. Moderate hearing loss.
Emery takes that and the resulting adjustment to her aid about as well as accidentally eating a sour candy. It gives her a headache most days if she wears it for too long, her brain working overtime to try and listen for her ear rather than her ear doing the work itself.
Most of the time, when she’s at home, she leaves it out.
Samira doesn’t mind the quiet.
Her and Emery’s relationship had never really been a noisy affair, their love sacred and soft between them, but she notices in the months after the adjustment that Emery’s gotten quieter and quieter, that she hears less and less.
She understands that conversation is harder for her now, that she needs to try and stay on Emery’s right side when she’s speaking to her, and she’s started to pick up some phrases in ASL, something they learn together, hunched over a laptop screen.
Some days, they test Emery’s hearing themselves, a game Emery seems to endlessly enjoy because for once, she’s not sat in some cramped booth trying to guess the words being read to her through a headset and getting angry when she can’t hear them.
They sit opposite each other on the bed, their legs criss-cross applesauce-d between them, with Samira’s hands gently cupping Emery’s face, her left hand pressed tight against Emery’s right ear and her mouth softly speaking into her left.
Emery keeps her hands on Samira’s knees, focusing both on the muffled sounds going into her ears and the warmth of Samira’s palms against her face.
When Samira tilts back and looks at her expectedly, Emery only blinks and smiles.
“Something about caterpillars?”
Samira’s scowl is all pout and frown. “No! Caterpillars? I was listing off all the bones you can find in your hands.”
Samira shoves at her shoulder playfully. “You really didn’t hear any of it?”
She shakes her head. “No. It’s really muffled, like you’re trying to talk underwater or something. You’re all…bubbles.” She leans forward a little, offering herself. “Go ahead, try again. A little louder.”
Samira stares at her a moment, at the way she’s sat all patiently, waiting for Samira to hold her again and do an activity she would usually find unbelievably boring. Emery’s usually particularly vocal about things she doesn’t like – mushrooms, parking fines, cowboy surgeons – but with Samira, there’s never any word of complaint, never any shred of passive annoyance even when Samira knows she’s not enjoying herself.
She was always so constant in that aspect, always so there when Samira needed her to be, and when she didn’t.
Samira leaned in and resumed their original position, her hand against Emery’s good ear and speaking, just above a murmur, into her bad one.
“I love you.” She said softly, briefly drawing back to chance a look at Emery’s face to see if she’d heard.
She hadn’t, her eyes focused blankly forward on a spot behind Samira’s back, her brows drawn forward in concentration, her hand gently holding onto Samira’s knee. Samira probably could’ve shouted whatever she wanted to right now, told Emery anything that was in her head, and her girlfriend would be none the wiser.
Noting that, she leans back in.
“I want to marry you.” She said gently, a smile tinging her words. “I want to be your wife. I want you to take us out somewhere and ask me properly, on one knee with a ring and everything. I want to be with you for the rest of our lives and…I need you to hurry up and ask me.”
She glanced again. Still nothing. She spoke a little stronger.
“I mean, c’mon, Em. It’s been nearly five years and you still haven’t asked. I’m getting impatient here. I want to marry you and have kids and be a family. Soon. So, I need you to ask me, okay? I need you to hear me and ask me. Because I’ll say yes. The minute you ask I’ll say yes.”
Samira looked her girlfriend up and down before she pulled back, hoping the words sank in somewhere. Emery grinned at her when their eyes met, her sharp little canines flashing in the light.
“Okay, that had to be a sonnet or some case study or something because you were talking in my ear for ages.”
Samira regarded her carefully. “Did you get anything?”
Emery leaned forward and kissed her, chuckling warmly through it. “You’re still all bubbles, baby. Not a word.”
“Hm. You’re sure?”
“Mhm.” Emery kissed her again, sighing. “Can you grab my laptop? I think I need to make another adjustment appointment. I uh, think it’s in the living room somewhere.”
Samira nodded, uncrossed her legs and sat back, getting up and padding out of the room. Emery stretched until she was gone, still smiling.
She leaned over to the bedside drawer on her side, fishing out the small, palm-sized box and flipping the lid, smirk broadening at the silver inside.
She might’ve been losing her slowly losing her hearing piece by piece, but it hadn’t completely failed her yet.
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pairing : alexia putellas x fem!reader. summary : seems after few drinks, the whole team are talking about every situation where you and alexia were in love but didn’t see it. warnings : reader referred as ‘naranja’, alexia being grumpy, whole team making fun of them. word count : 2.4k.
Barcelona, Saturday, just before lunchtime. Sun hung high in the sky, hotter than ever, kind of weather that practically demanded cold drinks and good food. That was exactly why Barcelona Femeni squad had found themselves aboard a yacht once again, celebrating every trophy they had collected throughout the season. It was a private gathering, far from cameras and reporters, with nearly the entire team present.
Patri, Kika, and Cata? Probably on their tenth beer by now. . . Or well past that number, Clara and Vicky were busy filming TikToks, Aitana and Sydney sat together with Irene, deeply invested in whatever piece of gossip had captured their attention, Claudia and Esmee had already decided that repeatedly jumping into the freezing water was the best way to spend the afternoon. Poor Alexia, meanwhile, had somehow once again found herself in her usual role as team's designated mother, keeping an eye on everyone as if they needed constant supervision, which, judging by the state of the yacht, they absolutely did.
And you? You were stretched out across one of loungers taking advantage of rare opportunity to work on your tan during what could only be described as almost summer.
If you weren't familiar with european weather, you would have assumed the continent was moments away from spontaneously combusting. Yet, everyone around you seemed to consider this temperature perfectly normal.
Turning your head and opening your eyes was easy enough, sliding your sunglasses down bridge of your nose wasn't much harder. Actually forcing yourself to sit up so you could reapply sunscreen, however? That was a completely different story, a low groan escaped your lips before you could stop it.
Your entire body felt heavy, exhausted after an endless season that had demanded everything from you. Every muscle seemed determined to keep you exactly where you were, stretched out beneath the sun, doing absolutely nothing. Sure, by end of the day an inevitable sunburn and irritated skin would remind you just how stupid that decision was. If you made it.
“Eh! Naranja girl.” One voice caught your attention.
Once again, your attempt to sit up ended in failure. With a sigh, you simply pulled your sunglasses off, only to find Kika standing nearby. Her face was slightly flushed from the sun, freckles far more visible than usual. One thing you had learned over years of friendship was that the Portuguese midfielder's freckles always seemed to multiply whenever temperatures climbed high enough.
“Alexia could help you with that, couldn't she?” She said, voice dripping with barely concealed sarcasm and amusement.
Ugh. You and Alexia really should have kept things a secret. Although, honestly, that idea felt ridiculous for two very obvious reasons. First, practically everyone already knew. . Except the two of you, apparently. Second, there was no universe in which it would have stayed a secret for long.
As retaliation, you snatched the beer bottle from Kika's hand and took a sip. You didn't even like it but was either that or one of Marta's drinks and experience had taught you that those came with consequences. “My girlfriend is busy looking after children!” you replied, gesturing toward the Spanish captain. Across yacht, Alexia appeared to be attempting the impossible: preventing Catalina from somehow falling into water.
A task made considerably harder by the fact that Cata was laughing hysterically while balancing far too close to the edge.
“Venga, Catalina Coll!” Alexia called out, voice carrying that unmistakable authoritative tone that had captains, teammates and apparently even goalkeepers falling into line.
Almost immediately, Catalina quieted down and did exactly as she had been told. Gracias Díos.
A few moments later Alexia made her way over to where you and Kika were sitting, a long, exhausted sigh escaped her as she claimed one of loungers and practically collapsed onto it. At this point, your girlfriend looked tired not only physically, but mentally as well. The season had been demanding on everyone, but especially on her and you couldn't help worrying, though that was a conversation better saved for when the two of you were alone.
“Cariño, need help?” she asked, already referring to the sunscreen. Her thick Catalan accent still lingered in every english sentence, despite how much more comfortable she had become with the language over recent months.
“You need to be careful with sunburns, come here. I'll help you.” Before you could protest, she had already moved beside your lounger, sunscreen bottle in hand.
You loved this side of her, the way she cared not only for you, but for everyone around her. Especially younger players. Alexia had always been like that, long before you started dating, long before the two of you had stopped being complete idiots and finally acknowledged what had been painfully obvious to everyone else.
“Hey, don't worry about it, sí? I can handle it myself,” you attempted to argue.
Immediately, Alexia pressed her index finger against your lips, stopping any further objections before they could leave your mouth. “Stop that, vale? Let me take care of you for once.”
As if she didn't do that every chance she got! That was simply who Alexia Putellas was. Her love language had always been acts of service, and honestly, you weren't about to complain. “How do you even manage this, hmm?” She murmured. “I like tanning, but my skin just turns red instead of actually tanning.”
One hand carefully spread sunscreen along the base of your spine while the other reached for more product but nearby, Kika remained suspiciously silent.
You knew that look. She was waiting.
Waiting for the perfect opportunity to say something sarcastic, ridiculous, or embarrassingly suggestive. Last time her personal record without making some sort of comment was eight minutes.
This interaction was already approaching seven. A new record seemed unlikely.
Unable to help yourself, you let out a content sigh as Alexia continued applying sunscreen. Honestly, you thanked every higher power available for blessing you with a girlfriend who was not only beautiful but impossibly kind. And unfortunately for both of you, Kika finally decided she had suffered in silence for long enough.
“Jesus Christ,” She muttered dramatically, throwing her head back. “you two make me sick.”
Alexia didn't even glance in her direction.
“Then stop looking.” She had a pout on lips.
That only made Kika laugh harder. “VICKY! Come here, now!”
Vicky immediately abandoned whatever TikTok she had been filming, curiosity won far too easily among footballers and within seconds she was making her way across deck while Kika waited with an expression of someone about to present evidence in a criminal investigation. “What happened?” She asked.
Your girlfriend's expression was soft, focused, completely unaware of how ridiculously affectionate she looked. It was pretty. You loved her.
Vicky stared. Then at you. Then at Alexia. Then back at you. “Oh.” From her lips, just came this out.
“Exactly,” Kika said. “Look at this.” She waved a hand dramatically toward Alexia. “Our captain. Alexia Putellas. A woman known for being low-profile. Introverted. Someone who hates being center of attention unless football forces her to be!”
Patri joined the chaos and somehow, that only made everything worse, the midfielder stayed firmly on her body even in that heat. You had no idea how she managed it.
Everyone else looked like they were slowly melting under sun, yet Patri looked completely unaffected. Confident. Comfortable. Almost like the temperature was a personal challenge she refused to lose.
You were fairly sure that was just how she existed. “See?” Patri said, suddenly pointing at both of you. “This reminds me of that time when these two—” Before she could finish, Irene appeared. Of course she did.
Carrying a margarita like she had been summoned by gossip itself! You rolled your eyes as one by one, more players began to drift closer. Claudia. Aitana. Even Esmee! Still slightly wet from her last jump into sea.
A whole circle formed naturally around your loungers, like gossip had a gravitational pull of its own, at the center of it all, you and Alexia.
Alexia was already regretting every life decision that had led to this moment. She hated it.
“So I was saying,” Irene went on “this reminds me of that one time when these two were already acting like a couple but refusing to admit it.”
“I beg your pardon” you interrupted.
Irene raised a hand, like she probably did with her son at home when he needed to behave.
“No no, let her cook.” Kika replied. She was so invested at it, maybe that’s what she wanted the whole time and you just wanted to enjoy sun, a book and staying in silence.
“This reminds me of that time they shared a table during team lunch,” Vicky pointed out, a proud smile tugging at corners of her lips. “They acted like it was completely normal but Ale kept stealing olives from your plate and you kept stealing meat from hers.”
The comment landed in the middle of the circle like a perfectly aimed pass. . . For a second, nobody reacted. Then silence broke almost immediately. Of course it did.
Because now everyone had a new detail to obsess over.
Vicky leaned back slightly, clearly satisfied with herself, as if she had just unlocked a particularly valuable piece of evidence in a case everyone else was already convinced about while your girlfriend let out a long, tired breath, the kind that came from someone who had officially accepted defeat for the day.
“That was just lunch.” She said, though her voice lacked any real conviction.
Patri immediately scoffed. “Nothing about you two is ever ‘just’ anything.”
You rubbed your face slowly, already feeling the situation slipping further out of your control with every passing second. It did.
“Can we talk about that time a girl tried to flirt with Naranja at the club?” Aitana finally spoke up, breaking her usual quiet observation of the chaos. “And Alexia looked like she was about to explode. I remember her taking five straight shots of vodka just to survive watching it happen.”
The circle erupted instantly, as if Aitana had just dropped the final missing piece of a story everyone already half knew.
Esmee jumped in right after, fully committed to escalating it further. “Naranja almost left the bar with her” She added, laughing. “But then our capi suddenly, faked a faint.” That was enough. Right?!
The entire group burst into laughter at same time, sound spilling across the yacht without any attempt at restraint. Even those who had not been there for the story were laughing purely out of secondhand embarrassment and admiration for how absurd it all sounded.
“That did not happen like that. Liar.” she muttered, Alexia buried her face in one hand.
Kika immediately pointed at her. “It absolutely did.”
“It was one shot.”
“Five capi!”
“One.”
“Five emotional support shots!” Irene corrected, barely able to speak through her laughter.
Claudia, who had been quietly listening until then, suddenly leaned forward with a knowing smile as if she had been waiting for her own moment. “Oh, if we are exposing things today.” She began, earning immediate attention from the circle.
“I remember when Alexia refused to leave training until she saw Naranja finish physio after that knock on her ankle.” A few players immediately gasped and laughed at same time, already anticipating where the story was going. “She literally sat there for an hour pretending it was ‘just paperwork’ with the staff.” Claudia continued, shaking her head.
Alexia sighed again, louder this time, fully aware there was no escaping it anymore.
“And she only left when Naranja was finally okay.” Claudia finished, smiling like it was the most obvious thing in the world.
“She is no good at lying.” One of them said, laughing.
Mapi, who had been unusually quiet for a few minutes, suddenly straightened up with a grin that immediately made everyone suspicious.
“Oh no, not you.” Alexia muttered, already sensing trouble before a word was even fully spoken.
“I just remembered something from last pre-season camp.” Mapi said ignoring her completely as the whole group leaned in.
“You two were supposed to be in different recovery groups, but somehow ended up sneaking off together anyway.”
Everyone was already picturing it without needing details.
“And when staff asked, Alexia said it was ‘strategic bonding for morale’.” She added, dramatically quoting her captain.
What the hell? How did they even know all those details?
The two questions came out almost instinctively, your gaze sweeping across you all, it seemed no one looked surprised by your confusion, which somehow made it worse. If anything, they looked entertained, like they had been waiting for you to finally say it out loud.
Kika was the first to answer, far too satisfied with herself.
“Because everyone knew.” she said simply, shrugging as if it was the most obvious thing in the world. “Everyone except you two.”
Aitana, shaking her head in disbelief, while Vicky covered her face like she was trying not to laugh again. Even Patri looked away, smiling as if she had long given up pretending this was subtle in any way.
“I have my own story to tell. Eh!” Patri announced, her voice cutting through the group and immediately drawing every gaze back to her. A wave of amused murmurs spread instead of laughter, an kind of reaction that came from people already bracing themselves for whatever she was about to reveal. Alexia let out a long breath beside you, clearly anticipating disaster before a single detail was even shared. “Oh no. ” She was shifting slightly as if that could somehow delay what was coming. Patri, however, only smiled wider and leaned forward, completely unfazed by the reaction she had caused. “Oh yes.” She insisted, pointing between you and Alexia as if presenting undeniable evidence. “This one is good, trust me, you are going to remember it.”
Patri took her time, clearly enjoying suspense. Alexia Putellas rubbed her temple slowly already looking like she was reconsidering every life choice that had led her to this yacht and you glanced at her briefly only to find her avoiding your eyes in the exact way that confirmed she remembered whatever was coming. “It was during an away trip. . ” Patri began, speaking with exaggerated seriousness as if she were delivering tactical analysis rather than stupid gossip.
“Patricia Guijarro, shut up. Calá-te.”
author’s note : this is a little bit shorter than i expected, but loved to write it hehehehehe. ((( next smau is coming in few days <333
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