#Mapí Leon

[helen-with-an-a]

Can you do a Barca one where R is suffering with ED, but as one of the newest players, alexia and Jona are rough with her for a bit before she passes out on the field. Her bestfriend, and only friend at Barca, Ingrid, comes to her and feels how light she’s became and that’s when they find out about it?

Hiiiiii - thank you so much for the request and sorry it took so long to get through. Thank you to all the people who reached out offering advice about how to write this - I deeply appreciate it and I hope this helps someone out there. I know that it's scary and daunting but please, please talk to someone. Reaching out for help is the hardest thing, I am well aware of it, but I promise you it will get better. People love you. People want you in there lives. You are worth it and deserve every ounce of love in the world. I hope that my little corner of the internet can help you in some way. Lot of love to every single one of you. Forehead smooches for you all. I hope you enjoy this.

Different From Last Time

Barça Femeni x Reader

Description: R's eating disorder comes back when she moves to Barcelona

TW: Eating Disorder; Disordered Eating habits

Word Count: 3.1k

You hadn’t meant it. Not this time. It wasn’t like last time. Last time, there had been a snippy comment by a jealous girl. Last time, there had been a throw-away quip from a boy that you thought you had a crush on that you hadn’t thrown away. Last time, there had been a slow descent into your Bad Place. Last time, people around you had noticed. Last time, there were hospital visits and psychiatrists. Last time was not like this time. This time, there was no catalyst, no remark that sent you spiralling. This time, it happened without thinking about it. This time the Bad Place had appeared around you without you realising. This time was very different.

It had started when you moved to Barcelona. Your usual breakfast of porridge had made you feel ill one morning. The heaviness of the dense meal sat in your stomach for far longer than was comfortable and paired with the heat … it was not a fun time for you. The next day you had felt the same … and the next, and the next. So, you decided to cut the oats out, and pick at some of the fresh fruit sitting in the fridge instead. It never crossed your mind to replace the oats with something lighter but still filling, like a yoghurt or something. This was fine on your off-days, But by the time lunch arrived, you were starving – so you ate a lot. You plate was piled high of pasta and chicken and vegetables. All healthy, all nutritious. But because you’d ate so much at lunch, you weren’t hungry at dinner. So, you ended up skipping dinner, or picking at some more fruit.

Slowly, without you even realising it, all you were eating at home was fruit. Fruit and a milky coffee or black tea. Your breakfast was a delicious nectarine or a juicy vibrant orange and a mug of freshly brewed coffee with frothy, milky latte art on top or a warm, inviting cup of tea. You knew it might not have been the most nourishing of ways to start your day, but the thought of anything heavier had your stomach churning. The weather was warm, and you truly honestly weren’t hungry. Until you smelled the food in the lunchroom. Every day, you were the first one in and the last one out of the cafeteria. Pasta, rice, potatoes, chicken, beef, pork, carrots, mushrooms, broccoli, peppers. You name it, you probably ate it. It never really clicked in your mind that this could have been a sign. You never felt guilty after eating it, so you didn’t have a problem … right?

But then the off days rolled around. Without the structure of the training schedule, instructing you when and where to eat, you found yourself lost in the quiet of your little flat on the edge of town.  The fridge hummed softly, filled with vibrant colours of fruits you’d stocked up on. Baskets of peaches, plums, and pears lined your kitchen counter. They were beautiful to look at, reminding you of a still-life painting. That’s essentially all they were. A piece of decoration for you to look at.

It was an off day that you finally noticed the changes. You’d stepped out of the shower, steam still clinging to the small bathroom, and caught a glimpse of yourself. The skin stretched tight over your collarbones; your arms looked thinner, almost fragile.  The muscle you had worked so hard to gain was less noticeable. It was subtle, not something that would scream at anyone else, but you knew your body, and this wasn’t right. You brushed it off at first, telling yourself it was just the result of a new lifestyle. The Mediterranean diet, wasn’t that supposed to be healthier? People here were slim, fit, effortlessly beautiful. You were just blending in, adapting, right?

You refused to acknowledge it. You had been through this before. This was nothing like that. The words that lingered in your mind weren’t there this time. You didn’t fear things the way you did last time. You were fine. It wasn’t like last time.

You started to feel tired all the time. Not just sleepy, but exhausted, like your bones were weighed down with sand. It wasn’t the kind of tired that a good night’s sleep could fix. It was deeper, more persistent, as if it had seeped into your very being. You tried to ignore it, pushing through your days with a smile that felt more like a mask.

The coaches had started to pick up on your sluggishness. You were known for your speed – your nimble movements as you dodged round defenders like a dancer weaving through a crowded ballroom, your movements calm and calculated with perfect precision. But now, now your steps felt heavy – your timing off as you, once again, gave the ball away. It was preseason – surely you shouldn’t be this tired?

“Y/N, is everything ok?” Pere asked softly as he pulled you off to the side. You swallowed. Was everything ok?

“Yeh,” you sighed. “Sorry, I’m just tired. Still trying to get used to the heat,” you gestured around you. It was sweltering that’s for such. The temperature at the ground reaching an uncomfortable mid-thirties by mid-morning.

You knew you needed to step it up. You needed to be better. If not for you, then the team. The team needed you at your best. And you had to be the best. Maybe it was the Bad Thoughts talking, but you decided that being the best meant just training harder, not taking that step to talk to someone, to seek professional help. This wasn’t like last time. You could manage it.

And so, you pushed harder. You told yourself that this was the answer; that all you needed was to work through the fatigue, to out-train the tiredness that clung to you like a second skin. Early morning runs before the sun had fully risen, extra drills after everyone else had left the field, more laps, more weights, more sweat. You kept telling yourself that the ache in your muscles was proof that you were getting stronger, that the exhaustion in your bones was a sign that you were working toward something better.

You hadn’t really noticed it, but you were so focussed on training that you had stopped interacting with people. You were so tired all the time, your response became short and snippy. You were getting more and more irritable as the days went by. The little things that never used to bother you—the noise in the locker room, a teammate’s joke, even the way someone chewed their food—started to grate on your nerves. You could feel the frustration bubbling just beneath the surface, ready to spill over at any moment. But instead of addressing it, instead of acknowledging that something was wrong, you buried it under layers of denial and discipline. You told yourself it was just the stress, that everyone got like this sometimes. It was just part of being an athlete, right?

It was Alexia who first approached you, a few weeks after her return from the Olympics. She had been well aware of who you were before you signed for Barcelona – she had been on the receiving end of a few of your nutmegs and perfectly executed presses. This was not the Y/N she had played against.

She had found you outside, setting up for free kick practice. She found it strange – that you would choose to practice those of all things. You weren’t on the list to take set pieces, your name so far down the list the pigs would sooner fly then you participating in that part of football games.

“Hola,” Alexia said, coming to stand next to you. You jumped, your body tensing at the intruder. “Lo siento,” she smiled at you.

“Alexia, um, hi?” You sounded genuinely shocked she was near you, voluntarily talking to you.

The Catalan captain scared you a little. It was something about her composure, her intensity that made you nervous to even breathe the same air as her, let alone talk to her.

“What are you doing?” She asked, honestly curious at your choice of activity.

“Practising,” you dismissed, looking across at the set up.

“Why?”

“Because I need to …” you trailed off, making it sound more like a question than anything else.

“We haven’t even had a game yet, I think you’re fine,” she consoled.

��No, I need to push myself. I need to be better. I want to do this for the team.” With those words, Alexia made up her mind. Something she would later regret massively, but something that, in the moment, seemed like a very smart idea.

Alexia observed you the following afternoon. You were right, you were moving more slowly than usual. You were slower, you were less agile, you were making mistakes that you never used to make. Alexia thought she was helping.

“No, de nuevo.” Alexia barked. You flinched at the tone, the harshness of Alexia's voice cutting through the afternoon air like a whip. It wasn’t just you who noticed – everyone on the pitch turned their heads, eyes widening in surprise. Alexia was known for her leadership, for guiding the team with a firm but fair hand. But this? This was different. It was almost like she was pushing you, testing your limits in a way that felt more personal than professional.

You forced yourself to focus, your heart pounding in your chest. Sweat dripped down your forehead, stinging your eyes as you tried to reset, to shake off the growing sense of unease that had taken root inside you. You couldn’t afford to mess this up, not in front of her, not in front of the team.

Again and again, you repeated the drill, your legs growing heavier with each attempt. You could feel your breath hitching, your lungs burning, but you pushed through, ignoring the screaming protests of your body. This was what you needed, right? To push harder, to be better. But with each failed attempt, each barked command from Alexia, doubt crept further into your mind.

Your teammates watched with a mix of concern and confusion. They could see something was off, that you were struggling more than usual, but no one dared to say anything. Alexia’s presence was too commanding, too intimidating to question. So they stayed silent, exchanging worried glances as you faltered once again.

“No, no, no,” Alexia snapped, stepping closer, her frustration palpable. “That’s not good enough. Again.”

You nodded, barely hearing her words over the pounding in your ears. The world was starting to tilt, the edges of your vision blurring as you bent over, hands on your knees, trying to catch your breath. But there was no time for that. You had to keep going. You had to prove yourself.

“Y/N,” Alexia’s voice cut through your haze, sharp and unyielding. “Again.”

You straightened up, legs trembling, and moved to take your position. But the ground seemed to shift beneath your feet, and suddenly, you were stumbling, your vision narrowing to a pinpoint. Panic flared in your chest as the world spun, and before you could stop it, darkness began to close in around you.

Was it the heat? Was it the food? You really couldn’t tell. You felt horrific. But you had to keep going. You swayed gently as you began to sprint off. You needed out … you needed to breathe. Your body was on autopilot as you went through the motions.

Esmee was the first to notice. Your skin had a sallow, sickly paleness. Your eyes were sunken and your hair too thin. You looked awful. Her concern quickly turned to alarm as she watched you sway; your movements unsteady and uncoordinated. She could see the strain etched across your face, the way your muscles trembled with every step. Something was terribly wrong, and it was no longer just about your performance on the pitch.

She reached over to Ingrid, tapping her gently on the shoulder. The pair of them looked over to where you and Alexia were standing – you were barely conscious. How you were still on your feet was anyone’s guess. They exchanged glances, silently agreeing that something was terribly, terribly amiss and Alexia was taking things too far.

“Y/N, stop!” Mapí shouted, her voice breaking through the fog that had settled in your mind. But you barely registered it, your body still moving on instinct, trying to obey Alexia’s last command. The group didn’t hesitate. They were over to you in a flash. They sprinted across the field, reaching you just as your legs buckled underneath you. Ingrid’s gentle arms wrapped around you.

“Hey, hey, it’s okay,” she said, her voice soft but urgent as she guided you to sit down on the grass. “You need to stop, Y/N. You’re going to hurt yourself.”

Alexia’s frustration melted into concern as she watched the scene unfold. She hadn’t realised just how bad things had gotten until now. She had been so focused on pushing you to be your best that she hadn’t seen the toll it was taking on you, both physically and mentally. Guilt gnawed at her as she hurried over, her expression shifting from stern to worried.

“Y/N, why didn’t you say something?” Alexia asked, kneeling beside you, her voice uncharacteristically gentle.

You tried to speak, but the words caught in your throat. Your vision was blurry, and the world felt like it was spinning out of control. You felt Ingrid’s hand on your back, rubbing soothing circles, but even that small comfort wasn’t enough to calm the panic rising in your chest.

“I… I thought I could handle it,” you finally managed to whisper, tears welling up in your eyes. “It isn’t like last time.”

“What’s not like last time?” Esmee’s gentle voice drifted over you.

“All of it. The Bad Thoughts aren’t like last time. I didn’t mean to do it. I …” If you had the energy, you would have been hysterical.

“Y/N, I need you to listen to me,” Alexia’s tone posed no arguments. This was Captain Alexia talking. She brought a hand to your cheek, her palm gently guiding you to look at her. “Have you hurt yourself? Do you need an ambulance?”

“Not cuts. I … I don’t do that,” you whispered.

The sigh of relief was audible from all the girls around you.

“What didn’t you mean to do, Kjære?” Ingrid asked the question. She figured that since you were still in her arms, your back against her chest, that it might be easier voicing whatever it was that plagued your mind.

“I …” You remembered how hard it was to voice it all last time. At that had been to a total stranger. But then again … that had been to a total stranger. A stranger that had your best interests at heart, but they didn’t know you. Not like these girls did. “Food,” was what you settled on.

The moment the word left your lips, you felt the air around you shift. The weight of the confession hung heavily in the silence that followed, pressing down on everyone around you. The tension was palpable, each of your teammates processing what you had just said, the reality of the situation settling in.

Mapí's sharp intake of breath was the first sound that broke the silence, her shock evident. You could feel Ingrid's arms tighten around you slightly, as if she was trying to shield you from the world, from the consequences of your admission. Alexia’s hand remained on your cheek, her eyes searching yours for any sign of what you were truly going through.

"Food?" Ingrid repeated softly, her voice barely above a whisper, as if saying it any louder would make the situation even more real. "What do you mean, Y/N? Have you not been eating?"

You hesitated, your mind racing with the implications of what you were about to reveal. But there was no turning back now. The truth had already started to spill out, and you couldn't stop it even if you wanted to. "Not… not like I should," you finally admitted, your voice trembling. "It just… happened. I didn’t mean for it to, but I’ve been skipping meals, and when I do eat, it’s like I can’t stop. At home I can't eat. But in the cafeteria, it's all I can do …"

The guilt in Alexia’s eyes deepened, her mind replaying every drill, every push, every time she had demanded more from you without realizing the burden you were already carrying. "Y/N," she began, her voice laced with regret, "I had no idea. I should have seen the signs. I’m so sorry."

Tears welled up in your eyes again, but this time, they weren’t just from exhaustion or fear. They were from the overwhelming mix of emotions you felt—from relief that the truth was finally out, to shame for not being able to handle it on your own, to fear of what would come next.

Esmee knelt beside you, her hand reaching out to squeeze yours. "We’re going to help you," she said firmly, her tone leaving no room for doubt. "You don’t have to go through this alone, Y/N. We’re your team, and that means we’re here for you, no matter what."

The others nodded in agreement, their faces reflecting a mixture of concern and determination. You could see the resolve in their eyes, the silent promise that they wouldn’t let you face this battle alone.

Alexia took a deep breath, her hand still resting gently on your cheek. "The most important thing right now is your health," she said, her voice steady. "We’ll figure this out together. We’ll talk to the coach, to the doctors, and we’ll make sure you get the support you need."

You nodded, too overwhelmed to speak. The support of your teammates was more than you could have hoped for, and for the first time in weeks, you felt a glimmer of hope. Maybe this time really was different. Maybe this time, you wouldn’t have to face the darkness alone.

Ingrid gently helped you to your feet, her arm still around your waist to steady you. The others formed a protective circle around you, their presence a silent but powerful reminder that you were part of something bigger, something stronger than any one of you alone.

As they guided you off the field, you knew that this was just the beginning of a long and difficult journey. But you also knew that with them by your side, you could face whatever came next. And for the first time in a long time, you felt like you were going to be okay.

I hope you enjoyed it <3<3<3

[mapis-putellas]

Three’s a crowd

Pairing: Mapi Leon x Ingrid Engen x reader

Words: 3389

Warnings: swearing

Summary: You accidentally tell Ona about your relationship with Ingrid and Mapi despite promising them you’d keep it to yourself. Their reaction is nothing like you expect.

Notes: I’m sorry I’m advance for the terrible Spanish. Also, this may not flow smoothly and I apologise for that. I tried my best!

"I mean, I'd make out with them but like -platonically, you know?"

"You can't make out with someone platonically, idiota."

"Of course you can! We've done it like, so many times before already. I mean, maybe it was platonic at first, anyway. But it's definitely not now." You wave your hand dismissively. It takes promptly three seconds before you freeze in the midst of shoving your belongings into your back at the words that had just escaped your mouth without meaning to. Eyes widening, you turn to face Ona who was staring at you with a look of pure shock on her face. Her mouth was agape, hands frozen mid air in the midst of pulling off her jersey.

"qué?" Her eyebrow raise.

You panic. "Uhh, nothing. I said nothing," you scramble to collect the rest of your things, hoisting your kitbag onto your shoulder before slowly backing away from her. "You're just hearing things, Ona. I didn't say anything."

You see, this...relationship, or whatever was going on between Mapi, Ingrid and yourself was new. So new, in fact, it didn't quite have a label. In the privacy of their home, you were like any typical throuple. You kissed. Cuddled. Held hands. They'd dote over you and you craved their attention and affection. In public, however, they tended to stay away from you. Not in a mean way. A least, you didn't think so anyway. Sure they'd speak to you. Pull you into he occasional side hug if you did particularly well in training. Soft, subtle smiles would be shared between the three of you.

But that was it, and that was okay. It was just easier that way anyway. Nobody questioned you; talked you into thinking that maybe joining their relationship wasn't the best idea. You were already going a good enough job of that yourself, after all, and the rumours and speculations that would surely appear if started being affectionate in public certainly wouldn’t help.

It wasn't like you didn't want to be with them, because you very much did. It was just...they were perfect together. Had been together for years before bringing you into the mix. What did you bring into this...relationship that they didn't already have?

The answer was nothing.

Perhaps that train of thought wasn't fair, you thought. It had only been a month, after all. A month was nothing. It was why you'd chosen to remain silent. That way, you wouldn't cause any issues.

"ey ey ey, no," her hand grabs your arm, preventing you from making your escape. "You are not going anywhere chica. Sentarse." She all but demands, pointing your cubby.

"No, Ona," you futility attempt to free your arm. Ingrid was going to kill you. Literally murder you before bringing you back to clean up the mess. Both she and Mapi had asked you to keep this to yourself, and you'd broken their trust before talking without thinking. You and your stupid big mouth.

"Really. I have to go. I said I would-"

Ona shakes her head, effectively cutting you off mid sentence. "Sentarse." She says again, sounding less amused than she had before. It has you shrinking in place, but yet, your stubbornness has you once again shaking your head.

"No. I'm not a dog." The door was just there. Your eyes desperately flicker around the room in hopes of finding something that would distract the defender so you make a break for it.

"Y/n, I swear-"

"What is going on?" A new voice fills the room, and both your heads turn at the sound. At the sight of Mapi standing before you, tanned, tattooed arms crossed against her chest, your eyes wide almost comically. Oh shit. Shit shit shit. You were dead. You were so dead.

Mapi's eyes flicker from Ona's face to her grasp around your arm, prompting the defender for sigh heavily before dropping it. She turns and sits, bending down to begin removing her boots. The knowing smirk on her face was hidden. She knew it.

"Qué está pasando?" Mapi asks again, dropping her arms and making her over to you. You instinctively take a small step closer to her, staring at Ona with pleading eyes when she looks up and makes eye contact. She stares right back at you for a few moments before sighing lightly and shaking her head, rising to her feet and tugging off her jersey.

"Nada," she finally speaks, and you let out a subconscious breath of relief as feel your heart beginning to settle in your chest. Crises averted. For now, anyway.

Mapi eyes Ona for a second before nodding and turning to face you. You don't seem to realise the look of concern still etched on your face, but the Spaniard decides that for now, she'd drop the subject in an effort to prevent furthering your impending panic.

"Are you ready to go?" She asks instead, and you nod, allowing her to place a steady hand on the small of your back to guide you out of the locker room. You glance back at Ona who just so happened to be staring right back at you. She raises an eyebrow and tilts her head slightly to the side in question, and you nod, the defender mimicking it before focusing her attention back to her kitbag.

"Ingrid is in the car already." Mapi tells you in her heavily accented English as you make your way outside, her hand absentmindedly trailing up and down your back in a subconscious action of comfort.

You hum does little to comfort her.

"What happened, amor?" She gently pulls you to a stop, her hand on your hip gently coaxing you to face her. You comply, albeit a little hesitantly, eyes focusing on the tattoo on her neck. Looks can be deceiving. They could be indeed. A small part of you admittedly wants to tell her, but you figure doing so and spilling your guts and in the middle of a car park with all your teammates surrounding you wouldn't be the best idea.

"Later?" You plead instead, and though the Spaniard hesitates, she nods her head and once again starts guiding you back to her car with her hand on the small of your back. The remainder of the walk was completed in silence, Mapi opening the trunk of her car allowing you to dump your kitbag in the there along with Ingrid's and her own before opening the back passenger door.

You slip inside with a tight smile and without your usual kiss to her cheek in thanks, and the defender finds herself frowning as she closes the door and makes her way round to the drivers side, completely missing your less than enthusiastic greeting to Ingrid. You settle in the back with your headphones in, perhaps a not so mature response, but one you deemed necessary to get your thoughts together before the inevitable conversation ahead.

"Is she okay?" The Norwegian questions, glancing back a you in concern. She doesn't normally like talking about you with you in such close proximity, but she figures due to the loud music currently emanating from your headphones that you wouldn't be able to hear them. Besides, she was only doing so out of concern.

Mapi shrugs, "no sé. Ona said something, I think. Said something she did not mean to, maybe?" Her eyes follow Ingrid's for a second before she starts the car, pulling out of her parking space with relative ease. The plan had been for you to stay with them tonight, so she purposely misses the turn to your apartment and continues straight to theirs.

"Ona said something to her?" Ingrid frowns.

"Sí. She look like, how you say..." Mapi tightens her hands around the steering wheel, "como un ciervo atrapado en los faros?"

"A dear caught in headlights?" Ingrid responds, and Mapi nods.

"Sí." The Spaniard confirms.

Ingrid reaches out and places a steady hand on the defenders thigh, giving the bare, tanned skin a soft squeeze. "Did you ask?"

Mapi nods as she eases the car to a stop at a red light. "Talk later, she said. So obstinada." She grumbles.

Ingrid couldn't help but smile, "Like you, you mean?" She teases, earning herself a playful punch to the arm.

"She is worse." The Spaniard grumbles, and Ingrid laughs softly.

With a quiet sigh, you place your AirPod back into your ear. You were stubborn, she was right. But it wasn't like you weren't willing to talk about it. You just didn't want to do so where there was a risk somebody would hear.

The looming conversation ahead seemed way more daunting now.

*

"Go shower, bebé," Mapi finally breaks the silence as Ingrid closes the front door and locks it behind her, and you nod mutely as you kick of your shoes and make your way down the hall to their bathroom. Their bathroom. Ingrid and Mapi's. Not yours. That thought alone makes your eyes burn with tears.

Pathetic.

You miss the look of concern shared between both women share as you close the bathroom door behind you.

"I need to text Ona." Mapi murmurs as she pulls out her phone, a gentle hand resting atop of her own stopping her in her tracks.

"Qué?"

Ingrid shakes her head, "I know it's hard, but you need to let her come to us. It's obvious that she doesn't want us to know what happened with her and Ona, and we need to respect that. Forcing her to talk will only end badly."

Mapi sighs, knowing her girlfriend was right. Still, she couldn't help but push.

"But, what if-”

"No, kjære," Ingrid takes both Mapi's hand in her own and squeezes. "Let her come to us."

"Sí, mi amor."

Both knew the topic of conversation between you and Ona had evidently been about them. If not, you would have come to them. Just like you had when Lucy had said something to upset you. It wasn't like you to push them away. Mapi knew that. She also knew Ingrid was right about letting you come to them, despite her reluctance to do everything possible to figure out what was going on.

"Okay. Go find us a movie to watch. I'll make a start on diner." Ingrid places a soft kiss against the Spaniards cheek before disappearing through to the kitchen. Mapi watches her go before letting out a quiet sigh and curling up on the corner of the couch, picking up the remote to turn on the tv.

You finish with your shower long before Ingrid finishes with dinner, and you appear in the threshold of the living room clad in both their clothes. Ingrid's sweater, and Mapi's sweatpants, your hair wet and hanging down by your face.

Mapi gestures you over with one of those smiles that makes you melt, "Let me do your hair, amor. Sit." She opens her legs and pats the spot in between them. Your reluctance was evident as you comply, placing your hands on either of the Spaniards thighs as you settle and allow her to start combing through your hair.

"Dinner smells good." You finally find it within you to talk as you feel Mapi's fingers beginning to part your hair with the intention of braiding it. You didn't like leaving your hair down to sleep, and you found it endearing that Mapi had somehow remembered that fact despite it being weeks since you’d told her.

"Mhh," Mapi hums, "huele deliciosa." She agrees.

After tying off your hair with a hair tie, Mapi's tattooed arms loop around your waist, her hands clasped together against your stomach. You expect her to talk. To push you into opening up about what had happened earlier. But she surprisingly does neither. She simply rests her chin against your shoulder and presses a kiss to your cheek before once again picking up the remote.

"You pick." She mumbles into your ear, and you nod, eyes skimming over the screen.

Ingrid makes her way into the room just as you'd decided on the lion king, carrying a plate in either hand. She hands one off to both you and Mapi before once again disappearing and returning with her own.

It was pasta. Your favourite.

"Gracias." Mapi grins, settling back against the couch with you still between her legs and shoving a large forkful of food into her mouth.

Ingrid stares at you with a smile, one you couldn't help but mimic as you both watch the Spaniard stuff her face. Knowing you were in the way, you shift yourself over Mapi's leg and settle on the couch between them instead.

You ignore Mapi's playful pout at the action.

"Thank you." You whisper, and Ingrid smiles again as she gives your thigh a squeeze.

"You're welcome, elskling."

It didn't take long before dinner was quickly demolished, three empty plates sat on the coffee table as the three of you lay comfortably on the couch. You were in between Ingrid's legs now, your back to her chest with one of her arms wrapped securely around your waist. Mapi was curled up next you both, her head on Ingrid's shoulder as the Norwegian combs her fingers through her hair.

The defenders arm was thrown lazily over your stomach, tattooed hand resting on the gentle curve of your waist. Your own hand settles on top of her arm, the pad of your thumb trailing over warm skin. 

The silence between you was comfortable. You were comfortable. So much so you almost want to bring up the elephant in the room. It couldn’t be that bad, right?

You sit up suddenly, yanking yourself out of both woman's grip. Mapi whines unhappily, but Ingrid nudges her softly as she shakes her head and sits up too.

Understanding, Mapi sighs lightly and forces herself to sit in front of you, her rear end perched on the edge of the coffee table. She tries to take your hands, but frowns when you gently push them away.

"I told Ona." You blurt out.

Ingrid's eyes widen, but you didn't need to see it to know she was disappointed. You could tell by the way an alarmed Mapi meets her gaze over your shoulder. You desperately try and fix your mistake.

"Well, I didn't tell her. We were talking, and it just slipped out. I didn't mean for it to happen. I swear. It was just a joke. I mean, it wasn't a joke. I was just trying to tell her a joke. That's when it happened. Please don't be mad. Or well, you can be mad. I betrayed your trust. But please don't be mad. It was an accident, I swear." You weren't aware that you had started crying until you feel Mapi's hands cup your cheeks and wipe away your tears.

Her hands were warm, and you relish in the feeling as you force yourself to take a few breaths. Ingrid's arms, you now notice, were tight around you too, her hands beneath your shirt resting on the bare skin of your stomach. You inhale and exhale, feeling her hands move with you.

"It is okay," Mapi was the first to speak, scooting a little closer and moving her hands to rest on either of your thighs. You desperately cling to to them with your own. "I am not mad. And Ingrid is not too, right?"

"Right." The Norwegian murmurs in your ear, her chin hooked over your shoulder. Her hair tickles your cheek.

"But I told..." You whisper, your voice breaking slightly, leaning back into Ingrid as much as your body would allow.

"Sí. You did," Mapi agrees. "But it was an accident, no? You did not mean to."

"Mapi's right, elskling."

"I always am." Mapi smirks, and you couldn't help but laugh when Ingrid playfully kicks her with her foot.

"She is right,” Ingrid repeats. “We are not mad at you. Being mad at you for something you didn't mean to do would be stupid. And besides, it's about time we start letting people know, mhhh?"

You blink, craning your head to the side so you were more or less looking Ingrid in the eye. She stares down at you, leaning forward and pressing a kiss to your nose. It scrunches up at the action, and both she and Mapi share a look when you flush and bashfully stare down at your lap. When Mapi reaches out to take your hands again, this time you let her.

"You want to tell people? About us?" You murmur.

This was not how you thought this conversation would go.

"Mhh," Ingrid nods. "Sí." Mapi agrees.

"But, what if..." you trail off.

"What if what, amor? Talk to us, por favor." Mapi coaxes, squeezing your hands again. You look up at her, and she smiles oh so gently at you it has your mouth opening before you could give it permission to do so.

"People will talk. About us. And that won't bother me, not really. But I don't want you guys to change your mind. You were perfect before, and I don't exactly bring anything to the table." You admit.

"Baby, no. Do not think like that. This is new, yes, but that does not mean we have any doubts," Ingrid starts, her frown identical to Mapi's whose eyes have grown shiny at your words. "I can almost guarantee people will talk. That's just what they do when they see something that they're not used to. But that doesn't mean their opinions matter."

You nod, feeling something inside you slotting into place.

"My opinion, yours, Ingrid's are what matter amor. If we are happy, then that is all that matters, sí?"

"Sí." You nod.

"You are happy?" Mapi pushes, and you nod with a genuine smile. "Bueno. Now stand, por favor." She holds her hands out for you to take, and you place your own into them allowing her to easily pull you to your feet. With a kiss to your forehead, she takes your place in between Ingrid's legs and tugs on the material of your sweater to pull you closer.

You yet again comply, ending up sat on her lap with your legs either side of her hips atop of Ingrid's thighs. Mapi's arms loop tightly around your waist, holding you tightly to them both, and you melt in their embrace as you rest your head against her shoulder.

Ingrid's face was just millimetres away from your own, and you smile when you feel her lips press softly against the top of your head.

"Something to the table. What does that mean?" Mapi settles back into Ingrid when she feels the Norwegian secure her arms around both herself and you.

Your eyes rip open. Damn. You hoped they wouldn't bring this part up. When Ingrid remains silent, it becomes clear she expects you to answer Mapi's question. So with a sigh, you do.

"It's an idiom. It means to do something that will benefit others." You mumble, less than happy.

Mapi's eyebrows furrow.

"You do not think you benefit us?" She places her hands on each of your sides and gently tugs your upper body away from her. You let her, but not without a pout and refusing to meet her eyes.

"Bebé, look at me por favor."

You shake your head.

"Elskling." Ingrid's warning voice echos around the room along with her fingers tapping gently under your chin, and you sigh heavily as you comply with the Spaniards words. Mapi's eyes immediately meet your own, but they didn't hold the stern look Ingrid's did.

"You do not think you benefit us?" She asks again, and you hesitate to shake your head.

"Por qué?"

"I don't know. I just...your relationship was perfect before me." You fumble with the chain hanging from Mapi's neck.

"No relationship is perfect, my love." Ingrid cuts in, Mapi nodding in agreement. "We love each other, yes. But all couples have their issues. Including us."

"If anything, being with you only makes us stronger. Because now there's three of us, instead of two. Meaning there is lots more love and time to go around." Ingrid hand grips your thigh and squeezes. You rest your own on top of it, gripping her fingers and squeezing hard.

Mapi nuzzles her nose with your own for a second before dropping her head back onto Ingrid's shoulder. "You make us better, sí?" She reaches up and cups your cheek, her thumb grazing gently over the still damp skin.

Your lips quirk up into a hesitant smile.

"There's that smile." Ingrid coos, and you flush slightly as you fall forward into their arms, hiding your face into the Spaniards neck. Mapi grins as she cups the back of your head, and Ingrid mimics is as she presses a kiss to her cheek.

"Our girl."

**

@ktgoodmorning @goldenempyrean @girlgenius1111 @alexias-putellas @mapis-russo @wileys-russo

[girlgenius1111]

hard launch

mapi x ingrid x reader. after they confirm their relationship, the public's response makes you feel like maybe you don't belong with ingrid and mapi. an international break complicates the matter, until you're barely speaking to them, and they have to figure out what's wrong; until they have to try to pick up the pieces.

-----

“We don’t like to hide you, amor. We want everyone to know you’re ours. Please?” 

The hope in Mapi’s eyes was too hard to resist, quickly transforming into joy when you nodded your head. Next to you, Ingrid whispered a promise into your ear, that everything would be okay, everything would go perfectly. You weren’t so sure. They didn’t seem to understand your hesitation. Of course they didn’t. They were them. Ingrid and Mapi. They were widely adored, together and separately. 

Your girlfriends could do no wrong. 

Except choose you, apparently. 

It was easy to believe them, that no one would care, when you were safely tucked away in bed with them. Feeling Ingrid’s arms wrapped around your waist and Mapi’s lips press into your forehead. They made you believe them; when they told you that while some may have a negative reaction, the majority of the public would just be happy if they were happy. 

You shouldn’t have believed them. Shouldn’t have trusted them, shouldn’t have given in when they asked you. A small, very hurt part of you wondered if it had been on purpose; a way for them to show you they were too good for you without actually having to say the words. Logical you knew that was ridiculous, but it was hard to use logic when you were scrolling through comment after comment about how awful you were. 

Upon reflection, both of your girlfriend’s would realize the mistake of letting your relationship go public just a few days before you and Ingrid were set to go on national duty. It was a few simple posts, photos that would have previously just included Ingrid and Mapi now including you. You, asleep on Mapi’s shoulder on the plane. You and Ingrid, hand in hand as you walked through the darkened streets of the city. The posts confirmed rumors that had been simmering for months. You remembered so clearly hitting the post button at the same time your girlfriends did. 

They’d smiled at you, dropping their phones onto the table without another thought. Yours was heavy in your hand, though, and it felt like every comment that slid through made it weigh more and more. The comments were worse under your post, of course they were. It was more confusion on your girlfriend’s pages than anything, but mostly vile insults on yours. 

You shouldn’t have read them in the first place, but you were only human. You couldn’t help but scroll through the comments section late at night when you were supposed to be sleeping, search your name on twitter just to see what your new insecurity of the day would be. It was self destructive, yet you couldn’t stop. It ate at you for three days before you left. 

The worst was that they didn’t even notice. Long used to ignoring comments on social media, neither of them saw what was happening, and what it was doing to you. In fact, it may have even been bearable if they’d noticed. If they’d been there to dispel your worries. Instead, they’d remained oblivious, and then you’d all split up for a week. You to England, Ingrid to Norway, Mapi staying at home in Spain. 

You always got a bit anxious before it was time for camp, and any odd behavior on your part was attributed to that, both by your girlfriends, and by you. Because while your brain was screaming for you to show them everything that was being said and beg for them to tell you none of it was true, you refused to be that pathetic. They wanted this so badly, a relationship that wasn’t a secret, and you couldn’t ruin that. 

Maybe, though, you’d already ruined everything anyway. Each of them felt the odd and unusual tension when they kissed you goodbye earlier that afternoon, but neither of them were there to see the tears that fell once you were on the plane, leaving Barcelona. 

If the past 3 days had been almost unbearable, and you’d been with them, you couldn’t imagine what a week of not seeing them would do to you. You weren’t sure you could survive it. 

—

It took Ingrid an embarrassingly long time to realize you were avoiding speaking to her. Mapi, less so. It was the 3rd day of a 7 day break, and the three of you had only facetimed once. Which, in and of itself, wasn’t odd. What was odd, though, was the fact that you’d barely been texting them. You hadn’t spoken to either of your girlfriends unless they’d called you, hadn’t reached out at all. It was unlike you, but even then, both of them just assumed it had been a busy break. 

At least, until Ingrid got a text from Keira. The midfielder was wondering what was going on with you, if the three of you had been in some kind of fight or something, because you were acting completely weird. Barely socializing, looking exhausted no matter how much time you spent alone in your room. It was concerning enough that multiple of your teammates had noticed, and tried to talk to you about it, only to be shut down. 

You were fine, you told them. Nothing was wrong, you were just a bit more stressed than usual. 

None of them believed you, but your answer as to what was wrong remained the same. Finally, Leah instructed Keira to just text one of your girlfriends, and see if they knew anything. If they did, perhaps they could give Keira some answers on how to help you. And if they didn’t… well, there was clearly something very, very wrong. 

The phone call that followed Keira’s text wasn’t very fun for you, or for either of your girlfriends. Mapi had to ring you three times before you picked up, and even then, your face was only half in view of the screen. After you’d exchanged hello’s, you fell silent. It was a heavy silence, one that told both your girlfriend’s very clearly that you weren’t okay. They didn’t know why, but they were going to figure it out if it was the last thing they did. 

After a few more seconds of total silence where they waited for you to say something, Mapi gave in. 

“Amor? How are you?” Mapi wondered. 

“Fine.” You told her. Short answers, make up an excuse for why you have to go in a minute. Don’t cry. Don’t cry. They don’t need to deal with your emotions, just like how they probably don’t want to deal with you. 

“Really? Because Keira told us you’ve been acting kind of weird.” Ingrid said gently. You forced yourself to look away from her wide, concerned eyes. 

Fuck, this was hard. But you couldn’t break down. They didn’t need that. They didn’t need you. 

“Yep. I’m fine.” You replied shortly, shifting again so the camera only showed half your face. 

“Can you let me see you, then?” Ingrid asked. “If nothing is wrong, look at us.” 

With a very forced roll of your eyes, you tilted the screen so that your face was visible. You looked exhausted, which they’d known you would, but they weren’t expecting the completely empty look in your eyes. 

“Amor, are you sure you’re-”

“María, I said I’m fine,” you snapped, digging your nails into the skin of your thigh at the hurt look on your girlfriend’s face. Guilt was all you could feel, suffocating, maddening guilt. 

“Don’t be like that.” Ingrid said sharply. “We’re worried, and we want to help,” 

“I don’t need help. Everything is fine. God, can’t you both just leave me alone? You’re hovering and you’re suffocating me and I’m over it. I’ll talk to you later, I have to go.” 

You hung up before either of them could get a word out, throwing your phone across the room once you’d done so. 

Everyone was right. You weren’t good for them. You weren't good. 

The text you received afterwards only reinforced that. Your phone screen was cracked from the force of your throw, but you could still see what Ingrid had written. 

I don’t know what the issue is, but if you’re upset about something, you need to stop being immature and tell us what’s wrong. We can’t read your mind. You owe me and María an apology.

Mapi hadn’t even bothered to text. 

It was easier than you expected to push them away, which really just reinforced what you’d been convinced of over the past several days. They were better off without you. You tried to convey that in your reply. 

I’m sorry to both of you. You deserve better. Don’t worry about me, please. I’m fine.

You were pretty sure you’d never been less fine in your life. 

—

Neither of your girlfriends liked the sound of your last text. It was self deprecating, and it just didn’t sound like the you they knew. Their frustration began to fall back into worry, and that worry only grew with every day that passed. 

You wouldn’t answer their calls or their texts. None of your teammates could get a single word out of you. 

Mapi almost flew out to you when Keira told her that Sarina was benching you for the friendly you had. The only reason she didn’t was because you were coming home the following day. 

Keira said you weren’t sleeping and barely eating. The coaches and physios and captains had tried to talk to you, but you just kept saying you were fine. 

Neither Mapi nor Ingrid were very sure what they were going to get when you came home to them the next day. No matter how much either of them thought about it, they couldn’t put the pieces together. You’d been fine before you left. Maybe a little weird, but nothing compared to how you were now. 

Ingrid had barely played in her own match, too stressed over you to really focus on training. It was a friendly for her, too, and she’d never cared less about a match in her life. Never wanted something to be over more in her life. 

Mapi was laying on the couch when she figured it out. Snuggling with Bagheera, maybe wearing one of your shirts, and definitely not stalking your instagram. 

She clicked on the comments by accident, but the absolute vitriol caught her eye immediately. She read one comment. Then another. 

She read them until she was crying, herself. Until she finally had to close the app before she broke her phone by throwing it or something, and called Ingrid. 

—

Mapi was always more active on social media over the international break. She must have been really bored to be looking through your instagram, but that was the only explanation for the text you received with only a day to go until you headed back to Barcelona.  

Amor, I think I understand why you’ve been so distant recently. I don’t know how to fix this so far away from you, especially when you won’t answer the phone, but I love you so much. None of those people know you or us. We want you, and that is all that matters. Please don’t be too unkind to yourself. Call me if you can.

Ingrid’s text followed shortly after. 

I talked to María, and I went through the comments. I’m so sorry we didn't notice before now, and I’m so sorry you’ve been dealing with this by yourself. I understand why you’ve been distant, but I wish you’d answer the phone. I love you, so so much. More than you know. 

They still cared, and you didn’t understand why. 

You were nothing, and they were everything, but that’s not how they were acting.

It was incomprehensible, so you didn’t try to comprehend it. You ignored their texts, and knew that once you arrived home tomorrow, there wouldn’t be any more avoidance, for better or for worse. 

—

Your hand shook as you tried to unlock the door, eventually just dropping the keys all together onto the door mat. Swearing under your breath, you set your bag down to grab them, but the door swung open of its own accord. There Mapi stood, her phone in hand like she’d been tracking your location. Just the sight of her had emotion splitting your chest open, tears instantly filling your eyes. 

“Corazón,” she murmured, tugging you in through the door as her free hand grabbed your bag. 

“Hi,” you said meekly, shutting your eyes as Mapi’s hands came up to cup your cheeks, her eyes studying your face closely. The whole time you’d been gone, you hadn’t let yourself cry. Not one tear, no matter how much you’d wanted to. You’d done everything you could to push every emotion away, focus on numbness rather than everything swirling around inside your head. As soon as you saw Mapi, though, that was over. 

You sunk in on yourself, your head dropping until your chin hit your chest, and all you could see was your shoes on the hardwood floor. Tears clouded your vision, and you couldn’t help the quiet sob that slipped past your lips. 

It was a testament to how poor your state of mind had gotten in the last week that as soon as Mapi kissed your cheek, you broke completely, a part of you genuinely shocked that she still cared for you. Still wanted you. She drew you in closer, dropping your bag to the ground and kicking the door shut as she did so. You pressed your face into her shoulder, hands fisting themselves in the fabric of her sweatshirt. 

“I’ve got you, amor. I’m right here.” 

And she was. She was right there. Even though everything seemed to tell you that it should be otherwise, she was still there. She still loved you. The comments she’d evidently discovered hadn’t lifted some veil from her eyes, making her realize how much she despised you, how much better she could do. She touched you in the same gentle way, held you so carefully. She still loved you. She loved you. 

Somehow you found yourself being half carried over to the couch, still cradled close to Mapi’s chest. Once she had you comfortably resting with your head in her lap, you tried to speak. 

“I’m sorry,” you cried, looking up with wide eyes at your girlfriend, desperate that she understand that you knew this was your fault, and your fault alone. 

Mapi just shook her head. “No, you have nothing to be sorry for. I’m sorry. I’m sorry I didn’t realize what was going on sooner, and I’m sorry there has ever been any doubt in your head that I love you.” 

And though it still didn’t make any sense, you turned and buried your face in the fabric of Mapi’s, of your, shirt, and let every feeling that had been trying to strangle you for the last week out.   

Mapi was there through it all, her hands stroking your hair and rubbing your back. Wiping away your tears as she murmured soft, sweet reassurances to you. 

It was still incomprehensible, but you were tired of trying to understand why they loved you still. Why they loved you at all. You were too tired of everything, honestly, and all you seemed to be capable of was sniffling into your girlfriend’s lap, and drifting off into the best sleep you’d had in 7 days. 

—

When Ingrid walked in through the front door, it was completely silent, save for an occasional sniffle. It had been radio silence from Mapi since the time you were due to arrive home, around two hours before her own plane landed. She had no idea what to expect upon her arrival, and the unknown made her stomach twist with anxiety. 

 She leaned down to pet Bagheera quickly, before making her way into the living room. If she thought she was going to find you to be the source of the quiet crying, she was wrong. 

Instead, you were curled up in Mapi’s lap, your head resting on her thigh, as you dozed peacefully. The Spaniard was playing with your hair in one hand, the other reaching up to wipe away her tears. If there was anything Ingrid hated, it was seeing either of you upset; she would get this itching feeling to fix it, no matter what it took. Within a second, Ingrid was crossing the room and sliding onto the sofa next to Mapi, her hand cupping the older woman’s cheek. Mapi inhaled shakily, trying to muster a smile for the Norwegian, but it was a weak attempt. 

“Hi my love.” Ingrid whispered, placing a gentle kiss on Mapi’s slightly damp cheek. 

“Hi.” Mapi whispered back, her voice thick with emotion. 

“Tell me why you’re crying.” Ingrid was pretty sure she had a good idea, but she wanted to hear it from Mapi. 

“She’s… she’s in so much pain, Ingrid. She believes everything everyone is saying about her. I can’t imagine what the last week has been like and I didn’t do anything about it-”

The Norwegian cut her girlfriend off. “Neither of us did. She didn’t tell us. We should have checked in and we should have realized something was off before we left, but she didn’t tell us, María. She didn’t want us to know.” 

Mapi nodded slowly, and Ingrid knew that the Spaniard still blamed herself. Honestly, Ingrid blamed herself, too, and no rational words could fix that. Not when you were laid in front of her, the effects of the past week clear on your face. 

Knowing that there wasn’t anything else she could say, Ingrid wrapped an arm around Mapi’s shoulder, pulling the defender into her. With María’s head on her shoulder, and you sleeping in her lap, Ingrid could almost pretend that everything was fine. 

In the silence, she could pretend that you hadn’t been subjected to astoundingly hateful comments that had made you doubt the entirety of your relationship with them. If she tried really hard, she could pretend everything was fine. 

When the first tear slid down her cheek, though, she knew she wasn’t really convincing herself. Not with Mapi crying on her shoulder, not with you, exhausted, heart battered and bruised next to her. Nothing could erase what had happened, but Ingrid hoped, with everything in her, that it could be repaired. 

—

When you woke, you thought you found yourself just as you’d been when you’d fallen asleep, with the environment around you slightly different. It was lighter, in the apartment, with the smell of something cooking wafting in from the kitchen. You shifted, realizing you weren’t lying on Mapi, anymore. Your head was resting on a pillow, two throw blankets tucked around you meticulously. 

Low voices were audible from the kitchen, and you rose shakily, feeling weak and exhausted from your breakdown, even as you’d just woken. A part of you wanted to just head for the door. Running away would be the easiest option, because you were quite sure that going into that kitchen would bring about conversations you didn’t want to have. If you could have done anything, you would have gone back in time to two weeks ago, when no one knew about the three of you, and no one had anything to say. Back when Mapi and Ingrid had no reason to question your mental health and your very negative view of yourself. It had felt like they were fixing that, slowly but surely. The response to your relationship had destroyed what self confidence you had built back up, and it was so fragile now, you knew you wouldn’t be able to successfully convince them that you were okay. 

But there was love waiting for you in the kitchen, love you didn’t understand but love you craved all the same. And if you walked out the door, you weren’t sure you’d ever find anything like it ever again. 

When you walked into the kitchen, it was to find both of your girlfriends sitting at the counter, both looking at something on Ingrid’s computer. 

Ingrid turned to look at the sound of your footsteps padding into the room, and any fear you had that she was still upset with you melted away at the look on her face. She got up, practically crashing into you with the force of her hug. One arm around your back, the other pressing your face into her shoulder, she held you so tightly, she hoped it would convey to you that she was never letting you go. 

“My love.” She sighed, feeling you sink into her. It was such a relief to have you back in her arms, to know that you were okay and safe, relatively speaking. Ingrid had thought the worry and concern would fade a little at the sight of you, but it didn’t. If anything, it grew. Because you so clearly weren't okay, and she wasn’t quite sure how she’d missed all of this. 

Ingrid and Mapi had discussed it while you were asleep; that for your response to the hatred being spewed your way to be this severe, there had to be some foundation to it already in place. For you to so readily believe that you weren’t worthy of them, that you were destroying their relationship, that you were an awful person, you must have had those thoughts before. They hadn’t known that, hadn’t ever known you to be anything but energetic and smiley and happy and loving. 

You felt arms snake their way around your abdomen, Mapi’s face come to settle against the back of your head. It was a relief to you, too, to keep being reminded that they wanted you, regardless of what the little voice in your head was trying to convince you of. 

They held you like that for a while. Until Ingrid’s arms started to go numb and Mapi’s began to ache from holding you so tightly. Only when you shifted uncomfortably in between them did they finally let go, allowing you to step away from them and rub harshly at your eyes. 

It was just hitting you now, the full force of what you’d put them through. And now that you were with them, again, you felt a little silly for how you’d acted. You were younger than both of them, not by much, but that immaturity was clear in your actions over the past week, and you hated that. You hated that you’d made things worse for them when you’d only been trying to make everything better.  

“I’m so sorry.” You croaked, desperate for them to know that your intention hadn’t been to hurt them, that you were just reacting in the way you best knew how. They both began speaking at the same time, trying to tell you that you didn’t need to be sorry, but you didn’t let them get very far. “No, I am. I put you guys through hell and that wasn’t fair of me. I should have just talked to you, I know that. I just- I don’t… I’m not-”

Ingrid interrupted you, reaching forward to grab your hand in hers, an almost painfully sympathetic look on her face. “It’s okay. We both understand that you were struggling, and that your first instinct was to shut down. I don’t really understand why, if we’ve made you feel like you can’t come to us with things that are upsetting you-” 

At this, you shook your head rapidly back and forth. This wasn’t their fault, they had to know that.

“-we want to talk more, but we want to show you something first.” Ingrid finished, tugging on your hand until you followed her over to her computer. There was a document pulled up, one they had clearly been pouring over when you’d walked in. Both of them stood behind you anxiously as you read, not sure if their idea was going to make this worse or better. 

When you turned to them with tears once again pooling in your eyes, they feared they’d made it worse. 

When you flung your arms around both of them, a soft thank you falling from your lips, they knew they’d made it better. 

It had been Mapi’s idea to craft a statement, one that she’d checked with her agent and the club’s PR people about. Everyone had been on board, so she’d got to writing, as soon as she’d gotten the okay from Ingrid as well. She’d never post it without your consent, but she hoped that it would alleviate some of your worries. 

It was quick and to the point, and you could see where Ingrid had vetoed some of Mapi’s run-on sentences. The two of them expressed their disgust with the way people had been treating you in the past week. They had really only ever been on the receiving end of love from the fans, and this was not what they had been anticipating. You were an important part of their relationship, of their lives. You deserved respect, and they wouldn’t tolerate anything else. Their priority was each other, and you. It should have all been things you already knew, but you were crying like you hadn’t known how important you were to them. 

They let everything sink in, let you calm down for almost 20 minutes before they started the conversation you’d been dreading. They watched carefully as you settled yourself in the armchair in the living room, leaving the couch for both of them. The distance you were creating made them nervous, and Ingrid couldn’t help but lean forward and rest her hand on your knee. You seemed to relax a little, even giving the Norwegian a tiny smile in response. 

Mapi was, again, the one to break the silence. “Amor, I don’t really understand. Why didn’t you come to us with this? We would have stopped it as soon as we knew.” 

It felt oddly like a therapy session, with both of them staring at you from the couch, the spotlight very clearly fixated on you as you began to speak. 

“At first, I didn’t want to be dramatic. And then the comments started to get to me and I was afraid that if I brought it up…”

“What?” Ingrid asked softly, bracing herself for whatever you were about to say. 

You looked away from them, chewing on your lip. “I was afraid you’d agree with the comments and break up with me. I was afraid you were just with me because you didn’t know how to end it. I was just really scared you wouldn’t love me anymore.” 

You kept your eyes fixed on the rug underneath you, even when Ingrid grabbed your hand and pulled on it, eventually pulling so hard you gave in and got up, settling in between the two of them on the sofa. Gentle fingers grabbed your chin, tilting your head up, forcing you to look at Mapi. 

“How could we not love you?” She asked incredulously. Her disbelief settled something in you, and you wanted nothing more than to bury your face in her shirt and let yourself relax, but you knew you had to help them understand. 

“I’m not good enough for either of you. I’ve never understood why you want me, and-” 

“Stop.” Ingrid cut in, shifting so that she could look you in the eye. “How long have you been feeling like this? Longer than just since the comments?” 

You nodded slowly, feeling your cheeks heat up. You knew they didn’t like you keeping things from them, and this was something rather important. “Since the beginning. I love you both, but I’ve never understood why you love me.” 

Both of them were completely silent for a moment, long enough for you to get nervous. “It’s okay, really. I’ve always been like this.” 

“Unkind to yourself?” Mapi asked quietly. 

You turned your attention back to her. “Realistic.” 

She scoffed, taking a few calming deep breaths. “That is not realistic. Not at all. We tell you we love you and you don’t believe us?”

“No, María, I believed you, I just didn’t get why. It never made sense to me because you are both so perfect.” 

Ingrid squeezed your hand, pulling your attention back to her. You wished they’d sit in front of you or something, so you didn’t have to turn back and forth like you were watching a tennis match. 

“The way you think about yourself is ridiculous. If we are perfect, so are you.” Ingrid said, her hand cupping your face, thumb tracing over your cheekbone. “You aren’t tricking us into loving you. We just love you. We aren’t going to change our minds about that.” 

She kissed your lips gently, and you hadn’t realized how much you’d missed her kisses, her touch, until that moment. Mapi’s voice in your ear stopped you from leaning forward and capturing Ingrid in another kiss. 

“I know this isn’t something you can change overnight, how you think about yourself. But I want you to try, okay? I want you to really try for me.” 

You nodded, shutting your eyes tightly. You could try. For them, even if you weren’t sure you deserved it. 

“I will.” You promised. “If you both promise that you won’t stay with me if you stop loving me. That if I’m not what you want anymore, you’ll-”

“We won’t ever stop loving you. There is no we without you, love. There is just us.” Ingrid told you, her green eyes boring into yours, making it hard to come up with a response. 

“We choose what’s best for us. And we choose you. You are good enough, mi amor.” Mapi promised. Her whisper in your ear sent a shiver down your spine, the words filling you with the sensation of being loved. So much love, you weren’t sure what to do with it all.

“You are good.” Ingrid emphasized, her lips pressing repeated kisses onto your temple. “You are good, and we love you so much.” 

It didn’t feel as incomprehensible anymore. 

“We want you to love you too. Whatever it takes to convince you that you are good and loved, amor, we’ll do it. Okay?” 

You nodded, turning to press a kiss to Mapi’s lips. Ingrid buried her face in your neck, and you wondered how you’d ever considered walking out the door. You belonged here, with them. They chose you, and that was all that mattered. 

—

i have no confidence that this is good BUT🤞 i hope you all like this one. it was a labor of love... i think i like it?? who knows.

normally bailey builds up my confidence before i post a fic but she's on a very well deserved fun super cool trip and i don't want to interrupt her so please tell me this doesn't suck! lie if you must!

love to you all 🥰🫶🏻

[also as always, tell me if you find any typos 😇]

[mj0702]

WoSo Masterlist

Alexia Putellas x Jenni Hermoso x Reader

I didn't do anything - smut 🔞

Then help her - smut 🔞

Ingrid Engen x Mapí Leon x Reader

Talk to us - even smuttier 🔞

Lucy Bronze x sisterReader

The other Bronze

Barça Days:

Part 1

Part 2

Part 3

Part 4

Part 5

Part 6

Part 7.1

Part 7.2

Part 8

Part 9

Part 10

National Camp Days:

Part 11

Part 12

Part 14

Part 15

Part 16 🔞

Part 17

Part 18 🔞

Munich Days:

Part 19

Part 20

Part 21

Home:

Part 22

Part 22.2

Epilogue

On the Sideline (organized by Monk)

How it started

New Life

Walk-in

Tooney

How it's going

Catalan Pastries

Jacket

Post Barca season

Arsenal??!!

Mariona

Tattoo

Taking a walk

Home Alone

Babysitting

Babysitting Aftermath

Laura

Euros

Mens Euros Final

Lena

Olympics

Jersey swap

Olympics

Hypocrites

Ona

Future

Sick

Bachelor

Blitzen

Stainway

[samkerrworshipper]

massage therapy | mapi leon x reader

mapi gets injured… reader tries to resolve some of the tension in her body

warnings: injury, hurt/comfort, smut, cunnilingus, fingering

“Maps, baby, I swear to dios just let me massage your knee, I have to, hermosa.”

María just glares at you from her position sitting on the couch.

She’s been next to unbearable ever since her meniscus injury, rightfully so, you would be two if you had no choice but to stop playing the sport that you loved for months.

But the whining, the wayward glares, the constant anger and tension is beginning to get to you, beyond it making you annoyed at your lover, you were worried about her more than anything.

Mapí had her fair share of mental health problems in the past, the two of you had gotten through them together, but whenever something like an injury arose it always seemed to signify the start of a rougher patch in her mental health.

So that had been your main focus, making sure that María’s mental health stayed intact, you thought you’d done a fairly good job, mentally she was doing well, but attitude wise she was acting like a little bitch.

Always snappy and critical, always annoyed about her lack of mobility, always refusing your help.

Alexia had attempted multiple times to reign her in on your behalf, the Catalan woman had practically moved in as soon as the news of the injury had come in, insistent on being a support system for her best friend, but it worked to no prevail, Mapí was angry with the world, with her knee, with everything that moved or breathed.

“Estoy bien.” I’m fine

Her words are forced out, gruff and croaky from her spot on the couch.

You’re pretty sure there is a half permanent Mapí shaped dent in the pillows that your girlfriend had been living in the last week or so, ever since her surgery.

“María, when are you going to stop being so stubborn and just accept my help?”

For a person who had some fairly serious surgery just over a week ago, Mapi was a menace, trying to do everything on her own, which was fairly hard when you were hopped up on pain meds and hardly mobile.

“Estoy bien, ni siquiera estoy adolorida.” I’m fine, I’m not even sore.

It’s a complete lie, Mapí’s been moaning and groaning for the last half hour as she tried to find a comfortable position amongst the pillows and blankets.

She’s practically crafted a nest on the couch, a big pile of blankets absorbing her completely.

“María, por favor.” Maria, please

Your use of Spanish seems to draw her attention, it’s not your first, or second language, you don’t speak it very often.

Both you and María understand each other's languages, just find it harder to speak them, so it just works that you normally speak in English and she normally speaks in Spanish, it saves either of you from having to awkwardly translate all of your words every time you want to talk with your girlfriend.

“Pequeña, estoy bien.” little one, I’m fine

Estoy bien seems to be at the forefront of Mapí’s vocabulary recently, it’s always I’m fine, even when she’s lying through gritted teeth and teary eyes.

You stand up from your spot sitting at the kitchen table, tiptoeing towards Mapí slowly, a deep frown set on your face.

Mapí’s watching some Spanish soap opera, something you're unfamiliar with, which makes it seem like it's more background noise for her than anything of interest.

You walk around the couch, until you’re standing in front of her, blocking her view of the tv so she’s forced to look at you.

“You can’t tell me your knee isn’t killing, the physio said it needed to be stimulated daily, let me help you, love.”

Mapí bites down on her lip, there is so much frustration playing across her face, so much anguish.

“Estoy bien.” i’m fine

It’s like being repetitively punched in the face, hearing the same two words fall from her lips, it’s incredibly aggravating, all consuming.

“María, you aren’t fine, hate me all you want, push me away, but give me the respect of not lying blatantly to my face over and over again.”

Mapi’s whole body tenses, her face scrunching up at your brutally honest words.

“Princesa, no es así.” princess, it’s not like that

You don’t give up, not when you know that this might just be your opportunity to get something back, anything at all.

“Maps, just a massage, we’ll go at your pace, your muscles need to be strengthened and that starts with loosening them up, por favor.”

María’s face is stubborn, unmoving.

She’s fairly good about recovery, doesn’t need any reminders to do her exercises or move her knee as often as it needs to, the massaging is the only thing she can’t do by herself, and because its Mapí that you’re talking about, she’d never ask you to help her with it, or accept a offer from you to help her.

You take her recovery seriously though, and you’ll be damned if she misses out on a crucial part of her recovery just because she is too bullheaded to ask for some goddamn help.

“No necesito ayuda.” I don’t need help

You scoff, it’s the biggest lie ever, Mapí can’t walk without crutches, can’t stand for much longer than a minute, she needs help with almost everything.

“Maps, I love you so much, no matter what, but this whole independence thing is just getting annoying. I’ll make you prawn paella for dinner if you let me give you a massage, how’s that for a deal?”

It’s Mapí’s weakness, you know it, it’s one of her mothers oldest recipes that she taught you when she was still alive, whenever Mapí’s having a particularly hard day it’s always your go to, it’s her comfort food.

“Promesa?” promise?

You nod your head, smiling to yourself as you realise that you’ve managed to somehow convince Mapí.

“I promise, I’m going to go and get the massage oil, can you try and take off your sweatpants for me, please, love?”

Mapí nods at you, a little smile teasing at the corners of her lips as she watches you walk off into the direction of the cupboard where the both of you keep all of your recovery related items.

You were quick to find the oil and creams that you required, returning back to Mapí to find her sitting on the couch, her sweatpants pushed to the side leaving her in just her boxer shorts.

Her knee was the only part of her legs that weren’t visible to you, hidden by a brace and plethora of bandages and gauze.

You perched yourself down on the pillows beside her knee, ditching the items in your hands and gently reaching for Mapí’s brace.

She flinched away from the contact, her knee jerking at the feeling.

“Maps, baby, just relax for me, yeah?”

She nodded, her teeth gritted, her eyes watching your every move around her knee, trying to gulp down her worries and discomfort that originated from places beyond her knee.

Once she’d relaxed a little bit more, you reached for her brace again, she still flinched, but it wasn’t as major, and you decided to continue, reaching for the velcro, exaggerating your movements so Mapí had a clear view of everything you were doing.

Once you’d managed to undo the velcro straps you gently un tightened it and then slid it down her leg, leaving gauze and bandages as the only thing covering it.

“Deep breaths Maps, if anything hurts or feels uncomfortable just tell me, sí?”

Mapi nodded at you, she looked like a woman who had just run a marathon, her face all scrunched up and red.

“Sí, gentil, por favor.” Yes, gentle, please

You smiled at her, nodding, like you’d ever be anything else.

“Sí, I’ll be gentle, how about I tell you what I’m going to do before I do it, just so you have some warning, would that make you feel a bit better, love?”

Mapi nods like your words are her saving grace.

“Okay, I’m just going to unwrap the bandages now, just let me know if anything hurts.”

Mapí nods her head, so you continue on, finding the tucked in part of the bandages and beginning to unwrap them, your touch and movements feather soft.

You flex her knee a little bit and notice how her face crunches up a little bit, you hate that she’s in pain, that something that should be so simple and basic for her has become a struggle.

She doesn’t tell you to stop though, so you continue, slowly unravelling the gauze and bandages until you are met with the sight of her bruised and swollen knee.

The stitches had been removed two days ago, so the scar is risen and red, but luckily, not infected.

You notice how Mapí’s eyes suddenly drift from her knee, you know she’s been struggling to come to terms with her injury, that she’s been denying it as much as one could.

“Maps, I’m going to apply some oil, I’m just going to start with your lower leg, nothing near your incision, just tell me if anything is uncomfortable, okay?”

Mapí nods, so you reach for the oil bottle and a towel, gently lifting her knee to slide the towel under her near and then dripping some of the oil onto your hands and then gently pressing them to Mapi’s shin, snaking your hands behind to her calf and working your fingers into her muscles.

The only thing you know is that she’s extremely tight, her calf and achilles practically pushing against you as you lightly apply pressure to the skin.

It takes a generous amount of time working up her calf, working out all the kinks and knots, María is lenient enough though, she looks like she’s in a different place, normally you’d probe her, check if she was okay, but you know that you’re winning right now by having her allow your to do this, so you count your wins and not your losses.

“Maps, baby, I’m working up to your knee and incision now, I know it's going to be uncomfy but the muscles need to be jostled, tell me if anything hurts, okay.”

María’s eyes are glossed over, but she nods absentmindedly.

So, you daintily and carefully begin the trek up to Maria’s knee, your fingers dancing around her non incision side, gently giving the tissue and muscle a rub before moving your fingers to the other side.

You start by just hovering your fingers over her scar, something that seems to capture her attention, and has her throat bobbing as she looks down at you with wide eyes.

“Maps, honey, talk to me.”

It’s clear there are words waiting on the tip of her tongue, and if you can get her to voice them that you will.

“Por favor.” please

It breaks your heart how vulnerable Mapí sounds, it truly does.

“Please, what, love? I’m going to need more than that.”

Mapí pushes her tongue out against her front lip, a fairly clear tell that something is turning the cogs in her head.

“Por favor, no me hagas daño.” Please, don’t hurt me

Your heart clenches at her words, your fingers removing themselves from the scar and gently resting down on her thigh, your palm flat and open against Mapí’s skin.

“María, I’m not going to hurt you, and definitely not on purpose, I’m trying to help you. I know it might not seem that way, but if you relax for me it’s definitely going to feel better.”

Mapí scoffs, sarcasm seemingly ready on the top of her tongue.

“Maps, you need to relax honey.”

Mapí’s face scrunches up, her nose and eyebrows furrowing together.

“No puedo.” I can’t

You don’t doubt Mapí, which makes it so much harder for you to reply to her, because she genuinely looks like she’s struggling, and somehow frustrated.

“Maps, honey, why so tense?”

There’s an inkling of an idea beginning to form in your head, but you don’t want to read this wrong, and a part of you wants to hear what Mapí has to say.

“Tus manos están en mi muslo.” Your hands on my thigh

You snort a little bit, but then reign yourself in when you see the unfamiliar hopelessness on María’s face.

“Yes it is, what’s your point?”

You're toying with her a little bit, for your own fun and genuine curiosity.

“No puedes poner tu mano ahí.” You can’t put your hand there.

If Mapi wasn’t whining at you, you would remove your hand, but there’s neediness hiding behind her tone, that leaves your hand exactly where it is.

“Why not?”

You cock your head at her, pushing down into her thigh a bit and choking on air when an almost breathy moan leaves her mouth.

“No cuando no puedes terminar lo que estás empezando.” Not when you can’t finish what you are starting.

You smirked up at her from your spot hovering between her sore knee resting on the couch and her good leg which is resting off the couch.

“Why can’t I finish it?”

This is uncharted waters with injured María, ever since her knee injury all bedroom activities had been abruptly stopped, you were terrified of hurting your lover and Mapí was always tired or grumpy so it hadn’t really been an issues.

It was clear though, that the both of you were apparently desperate, and as fearful you were of hurting Mapi, you also knew she had given a lot of herself to be this vulnerable with you, so she probably deserved some kind of reward.

“Princesa.”

Mapi’s whining again and all you can do is smile up at her.

“Usted no quieres?” You do not want?

Mapi shook her head, her deep brown eyes sparkling down at you.

“Por favor.” please

You knew that was permission enough, but you were enjoying seeing her slightly vulnerable.

“Please, what?”

María’s almost glaring, a little twinkle in the corner of her eye.

“Por favor, ayúdame.” Please, help me

You would have probed further, if her eyes hadn't fallen down to the centre of her boxers, her hand resting on her hip gently tugging at the waistband of her boyshorts.

“You want this?”

Mapí nodded frantically, making you giddy on the inside.

“Pull your boxers down for me baby, I think it’s time I massage more than your leg.”

Mapi moaned again, her hands falling directly to the waistband and tugging it off with as much force a crippled individual could.

“So eager baby girl, how long have you been needing me?”

Mapí doesn’t reply to you, just continues to tug her black boxer shorts down her ass and carefully over her knee and ankle before tossing them somewhere.

When you look up, you're rewarded with the view of María’s dripping sex, her clit poking out of it’s good and her hole clenching around nothing, her hips canting up to you desperately.

“Look at that, you're all wet for me and I haven’t even touched you where it matters.”

The noises that leave Mapí’s mouth are completely sinful, her head leaning back against the couch, little pleas leaving her mouth.

You trail your fingers up from her thigh, gently grazing against the inside of her thigh until they finally make it to her lips.

You do the same with her lips, trailing wet and sloppy kisses up the inside of her knee and thigh, until your lips come into contact with her dripping and throbbing clit.

You don’t waste any time, trailing a single finger down to Mapí’s hole and swiping up some of the wetness before gently beginning to push it into her eager hole.

Mapí’s pussy practically sucked your finger in, you fell into a fairly easy pace, your mouth suckling gently on her clit whilst your singular finger worked in and out of Maria.

When there was absolutely zero resistance or stretch you began to ease a second finger in, slowly increasing your pace and your pressure on her nub.

Normally, in situations like these, when you and Mapí hadn’t been with each other intimately for so long you’d take your time, show her just how much you loved and appreciated her, but this wasn’t the moment for that.

Mapí needed love, she needed to be worshipped, but in this moment you were acting as nothing more than a relaxant for her, a tension reliever, which you were completely fine with, if it made her feel better than you would do anything for her.

You found her sweet spot, the little pad inside of her and began to target it directly, simultaneously sucking on her clit and caressing her g-spot.

It was a combination that never failed to work during a quickie, sending her directly over the edge in a matter of minutes.

This time was no different, you could feel Mapí tightening around you, her hands finding home in your roots and tugging you up eagerly into her.

Her moans all of a sudden stopped and her hands relaxed, not a second after that she tightened around your fingers and her thighs spasmed on both sides of your head.

You gently worked her through her aftershocks, only removing your fingers when all of the post orgasm shakes had left her body you moved you reached your hand up to her mouth, allowing her to suck her own taste off of your dexterous fingers whilst you lapped up any of her leftover juices and cum that was dripping out of her.

Once Mapí had sucked every last drop off your fingers and you’d salvaged every last bit of her pussy juices you lifted your head out of the apex between her legs, to be rewarded with the sight of a far less tense looking María León.

“Feeling a little bit more relaxed now, bebé?”

Mapu just gave you a little post orgasm grin, her eyes glassy in a completely different way as how she had been a few minutes ago.

“Si, muy relajada.” Yes, very relaxed.

[woso-dreamzzz]

I can just imagine a really rude fake fan saying kinda loudly on Mapí’s hearing that Ingrid seems more like Cub’s mum than Mapí does and it kinda sends Mapí into a weird slump like insisting she does things more with Cub and stuff

Ingrid catches on kinda immediately but Cubs only a baby and is confused why she can’t have her mama too

Ingrid sits Mapí down has has a proper talk with me and Cub just comes in and wiggles her way in between them and holds onto both of their hands

Cub: Mami and Mama and Cub *roars*

Ingrid: Mami and Mama and Cub *roars*

Mapí (holding back tears): Mami and Mama and Cub *roars*

Cub: and Leon-Leon and Garfield

I like to think Cub's 'roar' is more like a little squeak

Very much Kid!Simba's roar

[wososcripts]

Introduction + Masterlist

You guys can call me lee👋

My masterlist can be found here

heads up I'm not a very fast (or frequent) writer but I'll do my best to post semi regularly

I'll be fairly selective with requests as I don't feel confident that I'll produce anything good/in a timely manner that I'm not inspired by!

I'll accept requests for: fridolina rolfö, salma paralluelo, stina blackstenius, ingrid engen/mapí leon, barca (team) x reader, lena oberdorf, and laura freigang

If I decide not to do a request please don't get offended! It's likely that I just don't think I can do it justice

Anything that features upsetting content I'll do my best to tag

I do not write child reader or teen reader

if my work is 18+ i mark it and I will block minors who interact with work marked as such

[lholland14]

Ten Things (Mapí León x Reader)

can I request a fic w/ mapi based on the movie 10 things I hate about you? with mapi as patrick and r as kat

The story of the legendary Jenni Hermoso and Christen Press.

Oh right.

Sorry.

The story of Mapi and Y/n, how they met, how they dated, broke up, got back together.

Y/n Press the star of Lyon, the prodigy fresh out of Harvard, the new legacy of the US.

Mapí León the most talented defender in Europe, the superstar of Barcelona, the visionary of Spain.

And because of their rivalry this prevented them from ever revealing their true feelings about each other.

But when a certain player makes a bet, well what could possibly go wrong.

------

"I like you." Confesses Jenni

"I'm sorry" Christen whirls around

"I like you." Jenni repeats more confidently.

Christen grins, making Jenni fall even more in love with her

"I like you too." Christen smiles, but it quickly turns into a frown "But I'm not dating right now."

Jenni mirrors Chris's frown "Why not?"

"Because I'm not allowed" Chris sighed and sat down "Ever since Tobin cheated on me my dad thought of this brilliant idea from not moving on too quick and getting hurt again. My sister Y/n has to be dating someone in order for me to date again"

"What if she starts dating again?"

"Then I'll start dating again." Christen grins, kissing Jenni Hermoso's very red cheek.

------

1. The way you talk to me

Mapí always talked to people with respect, with kindness. Win or lose she made an effort to talk to the opposition.

AHAHAHA no.

Mapí was the definition of cocky, arrogant, and sarcastic.

"Good game"

"You were awesome"

"Great job"

Those words were not apart of her vocabulary.

This made her one of the most hated and loved player of player in the league, much like Sam Kerr.

------

"Oh hey Y/n" Mapí smirked leaning on the doorway "What a coincidence"

"What do you want shrew" Y/n glared back

"I'm just looking around to see who's gonna finish second."

"Why don't you look in the mirror." Y/n replied slipping past Mapí's arm.

Mapí scoffed before turning around "See you on the pitch Y/l/n"

------

2. The way you drive my car.

Y/n prov

It's not that Mapí was a bad driver, she just, well. Okay maybe she's a bad driver.

She's just fast.

Really fast.

Like scary fast.

It's insane.

Most people would say I'm defending her, and I agree.

She's a terrible driver.

------

There is a certain stereotype that women are bad at driving, I never believed it. Not until I let Mapí León drive my car.

"Leo."  

"Hola." Mapi greeted me

"Ready to vamoose?" I grinned swirling my car keys on my finger.

"Vamoose?" Mapi laughed at Y/n's antics and got into the car.

When Mapí laughed I swore my heart skipped a beat.

I briefly considered asking out Mapí, but like the past hundred times chickened out.

"Umm, what happened?"

"Amiga, we're not in Spain anymore, the steering wheel is on the left side. Remember?"

Mapí stared at Y/n before cracking a small grin at her, "Guess I'm driving then."

------

I hate Mapí León.

I'm gonna kill her when, and if, I get out of this car alive.

The first thing she did was crash into a trash can, and another, and another.

"Are you aiming for them?" I looked at her indignantly.

"What?" She looked back at me, confused before narrowly missing a lampost and instead ran into a stop sign.

I decided not to say anything, and instead just talked like a sailer for a couple of minutes in my head.

After two police cars, an ambulance, five more trash cans and a tree incident we got home.

When we did she had a lovely idea of almost breaking down my drive way.

Yay me.

------

3. I hate it when you stare.

The second Mapí and Y/n's eyes met, the fans started a ship war. Maybe because they looked hot together, maybe because they were always next to each other, either insulting or flirting.

Mapí did not help the ship war by always staring at Y/n.

And it certainly didn't help when Y/n transferred to Barca.

Whether it was at training, during games, or even at a team dinner.

This not only caused her teammates to question her, but the media as well.

------

"The next question is for you Y/n." A reporter stated "What is the relationship between you and Mapí León?"

"Oh, uh we're just friends I guess." Y/n replied awkwardly hoping the cameras couldn't pick up on her blushing.

Too bad the cameras picked up on Mapí's. And her stare

"What do you think about the ship war the fans have started on social media?" Another reporter shouted out.

"It's cool that fans think we're dating, but we aren't." Mapí answered, wanting to reply with an "I wish" or an "Unfortunately."

But she didn't, she couldn't. Because Y/n hated her and she hated her.

After the questions Y/n went back to staring into nothing while Mapí stared at her everything. Otherwise known as Y/n Y/l/n

------

"I have a bet." Jenni announced.

"Wait." Alexia puts up her hand "I'm not drunk enough to hear this."

"Chill cap. It's not about you." Jenni rolled her eyes before producing a wicked smile "Its about Mapí."

------

4. And the way you read my mind.

Mapí, swinging a bag full of junk food turned the corner to find a sight that used to excite her. Now is only angered her.

"Y/n?" She squinted at a misshapen blob in a dark corner. The groceries long forgotten on the ground.

"What do you want Mapí?" Snapped a voice that most defiantly belonged to the small Press.

Mapí sucked on her cheek before giving a Cheshire Cat smile "I have food"

"Leave me alone." Y/n replied bitterly. After a second Y/n looked up from the ground "Do you have Oroes?"

"Duh. Of course of got them, they're our favourite." Mapí handed a blue package to the red-eyed girl who gladly took them.

"What's wrong?" Mapí sat down next to the sniffling girl, obviously concerned.

"Its nothing," But when Y/n tried to get up Mapí grabbed her hand to pull her right back down to hug her.

No one knows how long they stayed their, but it didn't matter because at that moment Mapí knew she was in love with the very same girl she hated. Y/n Y/l/n.

"I'm here for you," Mapí whispered "Whatever you need"

Y/n sallowed before answering, "What if all I need is you?"

Mapí paused, "Then I'll be here." She whispered back

Y/n never told Mapí what upset her, but ever since then Mapí has always known exactly what to do for Y/n. No matter what mood she was in.

And since that day Mapí has never left the house without Oreos

------

5. I hate the way you're always right.  

"No."

"Yes."

"Never."

"Why not?" Mapí asked her, frustrated.

"Because we are adults," Y/n answered, the muttered "At least one of us are."

"But it'll be fun," Mapí whined and frowned when Y/n shook her head.

Mapí sat down annoyed.

"You can read right?" Y/n raised her eyebrow in amusement.

"Yes." Mapí looked up at her "Duh."

"Just checking," Y/n looked back at the sign "Because it says 'ages 5 to 12'"

"So, It's a caterpillar!"

No response except for an 'I'm not impressed face'

"It's a giant caterpillar!" Mapí emphasized.

"You want us, 23 year old adults" Y/n gestured at the two of them "And you want us to ride a giant caterpillar for kids, around fruit."

"Yes!" Mapí replied giddily.

Y/n groaned, but gave in to Mapí's puppy eyes.

------

"Why?"

"I don't like to do what people expect. Why should I live up to their expectations instead of my own?" Mapí airily replied.

"Besides, you had fun." Mapí sung jabbing her finger into her kinda allie's arm.

"Okay. You're right, I had fun." Y/n speed walked away after her confession.

------

"What about me?" Mapí looked up from her food.

"I have a bet."

"Go on."

"It involves Y/n Y/l/n." Jenni started "If you can get her to dating you I'll pay you 100 dollars, and even more if she falls in love with you."

Mapí grinned .

"Deal."

------

6. I hate it when you make me laugh

"Its just a fitness test" Mapí tried to reason.

"Yeah, and hell is just a sauna" Huffed Y/n.

Mapí laughed and ended the call before lying on her bed in what some might call a starfish pose.

After 15 minutes she suddenly sat up and grabbed her phone.

"Tell you what" She texted Y/n "If you survive I'll take you out."

"Like a date?"

"Sure"

"You're on"

After Y/n finished with her torture Mapí picked her up and drove her to-

"Paintball?" Y/n stared shocked at Mapí after reading the sign.

"Yup." Mapí popped the P and quickly got out of the car.

"You gotta be kidding me."

"Nope."

Y/n threw her head back and laughed before grabbing Mapí's hand and walking over to the maze.

------

Armed with paint Y/n stealthily braced herself with hay stacks in case intruders came, so she could have a shield of somewhat.

"Y/N..." Mapí sings and you swallow hard, tightly holding your gun.

Looking around the corner of the hay blocks Y/n saw Mapí with her back turned. Sensing opportunity she army crawled silently on the ground.

Y/n had already taken out a few of her opponents, cockily smirking when they'd turn around, searching for their shooter and only seeing the point of your gun.

"Come on Y/N..." Mapí says again, jumping up on a bench to survey the area. "I'll make it quick." She grins arming her gun.

The second she turns her back again, Y/n sticks her gun through the hay to make her move.

She clicks the trigger, resulting in bright neon splotch of paint smacking into Mapí's leg.

"MIERDA!" She yells, glancing around wildly trying to find whoever shot her.

"Where the hell are you?" She asks and Y/n grins to herself before standing up and running around waving her gun in celebration.

Mapí shakes her head.

"Are you kidding me?" She scoffs when Y/n finally finishes her terrible celebration.

She shrugs.

"It's called 'survival'." Y/n smirks and Mapí shakes her head as Y/n struts towards her teammates.

Due to whine of pain you stop and backtrack to Mapí.

"Come on." Y/n rolls her eyes and Mapí grins, before climbing onto her back.

"Why the leg." She mumbles and Y/n shakes her head as Mapí wraps her arms around her, well they weren't anything yet much to Mapí's dismay, neck.

"I came here to win. So, who's next?" Y/n grins maliciously and everyone who's around them eyes widen.

You smirk at them and walk away.

"Don't worry little lion, as long as you shoot me first you don't have anything to worry about"

------

You win the next round, hiding in a bush.

And the next one, this time in a tree.

And the next, on the roof.

Y/n jump down off the roof landing in a somersault, and stood in front of a pouting León. She mopes as the two of you make your way to the exist.

"What?" You say as you hold your hands up.

"Let's go home." Mapí pouts.

"Why?"

"I'll buy you Oreos."

"Deal" Y/n grins.

That day, Y/n learned Mapí hated losing and would do anything to win.

------

"Pay up Hermoso!" Mapí yelled, bursting through the doors.

"What?" Jenni, startled, looked up from her phone very confused.

"You said that if I can get Y/n to date me you'd pay me 100 dollars"

Jenni's mouth opened and closed as she processed this information "

You mean you actually did it?" Alexia said also very confused.

"Yup."

"Mapí, don't you think this will end up badly?" Patri stated concerned

"Nope" Mapí grinned, putting the money in her pocket "Now to just make her fall in love with me."

------

7. I hate it when you're not around

"It's been 4 months since you did the dare." Ona slowly started "Don't you think its time to stop?"

"Are you kidding me I'm just getting started" Mapí grinned.

"Breaking news" The TV host blared into his microphone "Y/n Press has moved Chelsea WFC! Here are-"

"Seriously!" Mapí threw down the remote. "Chelsea? Out of all the great clubs she chose Chelsea!

"Mariá León are you jealous?" Ona chuckled

"No" I muttered before leaving the room

"You're so gone León." Ona laughed while turning the TV back on "So gone."

------

Without Y/n days soon felt like years, but calls between the two star crossed lover felt like seconds.

Soon those calls consumed Mapí's thoughts, and all she wanted to do was hear Y/n's voice that she grew to love.

Even still those calls didn't satisfy Mapí, and she knew she had tot do something.

"I want to go to London" Mapí burst into her managers door.

"Like move?" Her manager asked, clearly confused

"What? No! Visit London, not move"

"You wanna see your novia don't you?" He teased as Mapí blushed shamefully.

"Maybe..."

"I'll arrange a flight."

"Gracias!" Mapí jumped on him, yelling with joy.

When her plane landed Mapí whirled through the security, got her bag and was in a taxi, not even Lauren Hemp could beat her time.

The second Y/n saw Mapí her eyes went wide and runs towards Mapí at full speed, practically jumping into Mapí's arms. Y/n hugs her tight and only breaks away to pull the Spanish defender into a kiss.

Their kisses were always soft. As if one was afraid to hurt the other, like Beauty and the Beast "Just a little change, small to say the least. Both a little scared, neither one prepared."

Y/n's hands softly pushed Mapí back against the table, as she tilted her head and kissed her vida.

"Tu eres mi vida." She whispered against Y/N's lips before planting her lips on Y/N's once more.

Once they let go Mapí grinned and hugged Y/n again

"I brought Oreos."

"I think I love you."

"You think." Mapí teased, breaking away.

Y/n giggled, making Mapí's heart flutter at the sound

"I know I love you."

------

"So now that Y/n and Mapí are dating, will you go out with me?" Jenni asked Christen

"Why not?" Christen chuckled and grinned at her lover.

"Are you scared of the water?"

"No?" Chris replied, now a bit apprehensive in her dating choices

"Good" Jenni grabbed Christen's hand and pulled her up from the bench

"Lets go sailing."

------

8. And the fact you didn't call

"Where's Y/n?" Lieke asked, looking around.

"I don't know." Aitana replied half-heartedly, more interested in the sandwich she was about to take a bite of.

“She left” Jenni told her Dutch teammate.

“Mapí?” Like turned to her friend

“She’s gone.” Mapí told Lieke dejectedly 

“What?” Like shrieked and banged the table, startling Aitana. Resulting in her losing her sandwich to the floor.

“Why didn't she tell us” Jana spoke up.

“Because she wasn't able to eat.” Aitana told Jana, exaggerated.

Lieke rolled her eyes and left the room.

The whole time Andrea sat silent, knowing exactly what happened. Because she told Y/n what happened. 

She told her everything.

------

9. Even worse when you make me cry.

"So I was a bet." Y/n stared into Mapí's eyes.

"Yes" Mapí couldn't meet Y/n's eyes.

Y/n didn't say anything for a minute, Mapí wanted Y/n to say something, yell, scream anything.

Nothing.

Finally Y/n took her hand and slapped Mapí. Hard.

And with that Y/n left.

The next day Mapí learned Y/n moved to Houston Dash in the US.

The next day Y/n blocked Mapís number.

The next day Mapí never heard from Y/n again.

And she was determined to change that.

------

10. I hate the way I don't hate you, not even close.

"What the hell are you doing here?"

"Apologizing?" Mapí weakly pointed out.

Y/n sighed and closed her eyes "Make it quick, I have a game to get to."

"I screwed up. It's not every day you find a girl who'll own you at paintball, go on a giant caterpillar and is obsessed with Oreos." Mapí held up a giant box of Oreos, with a small smile. "Some A-hole dared me to date this amazing girl."

"Really?" Y/n smiled back, taking the box.

"Yeah" Mapí shoved her hands in her pockets "But the thing is, I fell for her"

Y/n grinned widely, before grabbing Mapí's hand and pulling her in.

It was soft, but a different kind of soft. This time they weren't scared, nor unprepared. They were as "Certain as the sun rising in the East."

"You can't buy me a pack of Oreos every time you screw up you know." Y/n finally said.

"True." Mapí tilted her head "There's carrot cake flavour, lemon, chocolate or, hey, maybe even birthday cake on your birthday."

Y/n shook her head in amazement before pulling Mapí back into a kiss.

[uswnt-has-my-heart]

@ that one person I saw asking for this gif

[leonputellas]

😍💙

[helen-with-an-a]

Hiiiii - so this is a call out for ideas

I am after some ideas or requests that I can make/are birthday themed (my birthday is in November but I wanna start having ideas now so I can write them etc)

Who I write for:

Barça Femeni

AWFC

Lucy Bronze

Ona Batlle

Ingrid Engen

Mapí León

Viv Miedema

Jessie Fleming

Alessia Russo

Leah Williamson

Grace Clinton

Vibes I’m kinda after:

Something fluffy (could have some angst but what it to be mainly happy)

Don’t mind it being smutty but again it’s fluffy smut

Just overall happy and nice birthday vibes

[mapis-putellas]

Ingrid Engen masterlist

Three’s a crowd

[girlgenius1111]

all of my past i tried to erase it

part 3 of family line tensions are still high between Ingrid and her sister. Mapi tries to keep the peace. Solstråle tries to pretend she's fine. Ingrid tries to pretend she isn't going insane not understanding what is going on. cw: mentions of poor mental health / panic attacks. ingrid is pretty worried about solstråle and whether or not she is safe.

-------

It wasn’t really anyone’s fault. Mapi bringing her parents to the match shouldn’t have gotten to you the way it did. You didn’t really have an explanation for it, either. You saw Ingrid talking to Mapi’s mom and it felt like everything that had gotten marginally better in the last few days had miraculously disappeared. 

You were 8 again, sitting in the office at school, fielding pitying looks from the office ladies. Both of your parents were busy watching one of Ingrid’s matches; at just 16, she was playing for Rosenborg. Your mom was supposed to bring you to watch, too. She’d forgotten. 

You were 10 again, lying to the school nurse that your parents hadn’t known you’d hurt your hand. She said it looked broken, and you pretended that you hadn’t asked your mom to take you to the doctor the night before. You pretended your mom hadn’t told you to stop faking injuries when the attention wasn’t on you for one minute. 

You were 13 again, sobbing into your pillow, while everyone celebrated just down the hall. Ingrid was leaving to play in Lillestrøm. 5 hours away. She was leaving you behind. 

You were 16, having just been dumped by your first girlfriend. You’d come home in tears, and when you told your dad what was wrong, he told you it was for the best, that a girlfriend was just a distraction. He warned you not to bother your sister with this, because she was busy with much more important things in Barcelona. 

You were 17, so drunk you could barely speak, walking home on a dark road in the middle of the night because neither of your parents had answered the phone to come and get you from the horrific party you already regretted attending. It was dark, a windy road you were walking along, and if a car came, you weren’t sure your reflexes would be quick enough. You were 17, stumbling over the smooth pavement, the depression you’d been trying to drown in alcohol making a reappearance. You were 17,  thinking that maybe it wouldn’t be so bad if it all ended there, just like this. 

You were 17, standing in the airport with your parents, preparing to board the plane to Spain. You leaned in towards your mother for a hug. She avoided it, pinching your cheek lightly, and reminding your father that they had a dinner reservation to get to. You watched them walk out of the airport from your place in the security line. Your vision was blurred with tears, but you still could tell that they didn’t look back at you once. You were 17, and your mom hadn’t told you she loved you before you moved across the continent. 

In a second, all of these memories that you’d fought so hard to keep locked away deep inside your head were flooding out. Tears were pricking your eyes, and you cursed yourself for being so stupid. Ingrid didn’t care. Mapi didn’t care. You weren’t worth caring about. How had you forgotten that? How had you let yourself forget that, after everything? 

Ingrid didn’t see your expression change, too busy thanking Mapi’s parents profusely for coming to see her play. Mapi did, though. She watched as you caught sight of your sister talking to her mom, and she watched as you flinched like someone had swung at you.  She watched as you slipped out of the crowd, speed walking into the building. Mapi was torn in 2 directions, Ingrid on one side, and you running off the other way. You needed Ingrid, most definitely but Mapi didn’t like the look on your face as you ran off, like all of the emotion had been sucked out of you, and all that was left was exhaustion. 

Someone else had noticed your disappearing act, though. Caro stood, staring after you, before her gaze fell to Mapi, raising an eyebrow. The defender nodded, and Caro followed after you, while Mapi turned to her girlfriend. She pulled her away from her parents with an apologetic smile, appreciating that Alexia walked over and picked up the conversation where it had left off. 

“Ingrid, vamos,” Mapi whispered urgently. Ingrid looked at her, confused and unmoving. 

“What? I was in the middle of a conversation, María,” the Norwegian scolded. 

“I know, it’s your Solstråle, though, she’s upset, come on,” Mapi insisted, pulling on Ingrid’s hand, who finally seemed to feel a sense of urgency, and let Mapi lead her into the building. 

“Upset? Why? Did something happen?” 

“She saw you with my mom and just looked really upset.” Mapi explained. A bit of understanding washed over Ingrid’s face, and now she was the one leading her girlfriend, rushing down the hall and beginning to open door after door in search of you. 

Caro, meanwhile, had found you pretty easily. You were on the floor of a room she often came to when she was overwhelmed, although that happened much less these days. You knew Caro, obviously, and she knew you, had known you since you were pretty young. She had a calming presence, and the minute she sat next to you, and extended her hand in your direction, you took it gratefully. 

“Mapi is bringing Ingrid.” She told you, but didn’t say anything else. She just sat next to your trembling form and held your hand.  It was enough for now, enough until your sister arrived. 

And when Ingrid did arrive, it was with a loud bang as she threw the door open, sighing in relief at the sight of you. Though, that relief quickly dissolved back into worry at the state you were in. She quickly took Caro’s place at your side, hesitantly wrapping an arm around your shoulders. Your sister was surprised when you turned and threw your arms around her neck, crying silently into her shirt. 

“Jeg har deg, kjære. Det er greit, du er ok.” She murmured, looking worriedly at the other two women hovering in the doorway of the room. Mapi nodded at her encouragingly, and Ingrid refocused, rubbing a hand slowly up and down your back. 

“Thank you,” Mapi muttered to Caro, as they both stepped into the hall to give you some space. 

“Of course.” Caro said easily. “She having a hard time?” 

“Which one?” Mapi asked wryly. “Yes. It’s… it’s a work in progress.” 

“She’s a good kid.” Caro noted, Mapi nodding her head in agreement. “Well, Marta and I are around if either of you need anything.” 

“Thank you, Caro. Really.” Mapi said, squeezing the forward’s shoulder. Caro just shrugged like it was no big deal, and headed back out to the pitch. When Mapi reentered the room, you were tucked perfectly into Ingrid’s lap, although you seemed to have calmed down some. Ingrid was speaking to you in hushed Norwegian, and something she said had you lurching away from her and to your feet, stumbling blindly to the door. 

“Solstråle, wait,” Ingrid called, not really sure what she said to upset you, but well aware that it had been something. You fell right into Mapi’s arms, and though she looked a little startled, she easily pulled you close. 

“Okay, it’s alright. We’re all okay.” She murmured, noticing the rather heartbroken expression on her girlfriend’s face at the fact that you had fled from her right into Mapi’s arms. After a few minutes, you said something quietly that neither girl could hear. “What was that, nena?”

“Can we go ho- back to the house?” You asked, correcting yourself quickly, and pulling away from the comforting embrace Mapi had you in. Ingrid felt like you’d stabbed her, honestly, when you didn’t let yourself call it home. You were stoic again, though, your face void of emotion, wiping roughly at your cheeks to rid them of tears. 

“Kjære,” Ingrid said, hating the way you forced all evidence of your breakdown away. You’d been so upset, about something, but now you were acting as though nothing had happened. Your sister would have climbed into your brain if she could’ve, just to understand what was going on in there. 

“Let’s go home.” Mapi said easily, shooting her girlfriend a meaningful look. Ingrid wasn’t supposed to push you, she knew that. It was just getting harder and harder to not do so, especially when she could see how much pain you were in. She couldn't understand why you wouldn’t just talk to her, and you couldn’t understand why she was so concerned or why she was so desperate to hear what you were feeling. And considering it was the two of you, the situation was bound to blow up into an argument. It was just a matter of time. 

-------

Ingrid knew what was coming before her phone rang, but she still desperately wanted to avoid it. She was quite comfortable at the moment, curled up on top of Mapi in their bed, a show playing softly in the background. Mapi was scratching lightly at Ingrid’s scalp with one hand, and tracing lines over her back with the other. The movements made Ingrid’s entire body relax, which had definitely been Mapi’s goal, but it was all interrupted when her phone went off from next to her. 

She sat up off her girlfriend, glancing at the screen, her expression hardening. 

“Your mom?” Mapi guessed, pulling Ingrid back down into her when the Norwegian declined the call. 

“Yes.”

“You haven’t talked to her since Solstråle’s letter, have you?” 

“No.” Ingrid said. “I think I hate her right now.” 

Mapi was surprised, only because Ingrid didn’t hate anyone. If there was going to be a person, though, it would be someone who had hurt you. Because Ingrid didn’t like to kill spiders she found in the house, but Mapi knew she would kill a person for you without a second thought. “That’s okay. You can hate her.” 

“I miss her.” Ingrid admitted after another minute, her voice cracking. Her forehead was scrunched with sadness, and her hands gripped Mapi’s shirt tight in her hands. 

Mapi sighed, wishing she could take Ingrid’s pain away. And yours too, for that matter. “You can miss her too. You can feel whatever you need to feel.” 

“No, I can’t, not when Solstråle is so upset,” 

“How your sister feels does not limit how you feel. You can be hurt, and sad, and frustrated too. It doesn’t take away from pequeña’s feelings. Just like her feelings don’t take away from yours. You are both upset. That’s alright.” Mapi said confidently. “This isn’t just happening to your sister. It’s happening to you, too, and you can be sad, mi amor. You can cry.” 

Ingrid hadn’t even known she’d been about to cry until Mapi said that, but suddenly there were tears running down her face, and she was clutching tightly to the Spaniard underneath her, who did not seem surprised at all at the sudden emotion. 

“I know, baby.” Mapi husked, pressing kiss after kiss to the top of Ingrid’s head. She knew Ingrid needed this, and was content to let her cry it out until she heard a sharp breath from the doorway. You were standing just outside the room, frozen and horrified. 

“I’m sorry, Ing,” you mumbled, having come in to say goodnight, rather stunned to see your sister so distraught. 

Ingrid could only cry harder, now furious with herself for letting you see this, but too upset to do anything but squeeze Mapi’s hand, wordlessly begging for her to do something. 

“Ven aqui, nena, it’s alright.” Mapi said, gesturing you over to the bed. You looked skeptical, but you did so anyway, carefully sitting on the bed next to your sister. 

“I’m really sorry, Ingrid, I don’t mean to stress you out.” You whispered. You were in a guilty mood, it seemed, not an angry one, and Ingrid felt that somehow, she preferred when you were angry to this. 

“Don’t apologize, pequeña. You haven’t done anything wrong. Ingrid is upset, and you’re upset. It’s okay to be upset, and it’s okay to cry.” Sometimes, Mapi felt like she was teaching preschoolers how to identify and express their emotions when she talked to the both of you, though that might be an easier task.

“I’m not upset with you, Solstråle, I am upset with mom, and I am upset with myself. You don’t need to say sorry. Not for having a panic attack, for having a hard time, for any of it.” Ingrid managed then, taking your hand in hers. 

“I’m doing my best.” You said. “I know I’m not making it easy, but I promise I’m trying.” 

“We know you are. You’re doing so well, nena.” Mapi said enthusiastically, with so much excitement at you saying something remotely positive about yourself that you and Ingrid both cracked smiles. 

“Do you want to talk about it?” Ingrid asked after a minute. At that, you withdrew, pulling your hand from Ingrid’s and rising from the bed. Both your sister and her girlfriend repressed sighs at your sudden withdrawal. 

“No, I’m really tired. I came to say goodnight. I’ll see you guys in the morning.” You rushed out, before bolting out of the room at a speed that could barely be considered a walk. 

Ingrid sighed once you were out of earshot, settling back into Mapi. “She’s so difficult.”

“She’s stubborn. Like her sister. She’ll come around, just give her time.” Mapi assured her. 

Giving you time, though, was a lot harder than it seemed. 

-------

Your whole life, you had been encouraged by your parents to be smaller, to take up less space. If you were upset, you should keep it to yourself. If you were angry, you should calm down. You were taught that your needs always came second to everyone else’s. You didn’t like to be vulnerable with people, and you didn’t like to put your emotions on others. 

So when you woke up the next day, it was the feeling of intense shame swirling around inside of you. You’d ruined what was an impressive win for your sister, and a nice moment with Mapi’s parents. You’d upset Ingrid, so much so that she had cried about it. 

Too much. You were being too much. 

You resolved yourself to be happy today. If not happy, content. Mapi and Ingrid probably needed a day off from your ridiculous, all over the place, emotions. So today, you wouldn’t feel. You’d be perfect, you’d be small, and you’d cause as little trouble as possible. 

What you didn’t expect, though, was for that to be the opposite of what Mapi and Ingrid wanted from you. They didn’t care if you took up space. They just wanted you to talk. More than anything, they just wanted you to be okay, no matter how inconvenient that process was for them. 

It was a day off for both girls, due to the match the day before, and they were able to let you sleep in. Ingrid was worried you were sleeping too much, but Mapi assured her that angsty teens always needed a lot of sleep, and depressed teens going through a rough time needed even more sleep. Pair that with the intense panic attack you’d had the day before, you were bound to be exhausted. 

When noon rolled around, though, and you’d yet to make an appearance, Mapi relented, much to Ingrid’s relief, who had half a mind to check you for a pulse. Mapi made a coffee to bring up to you, opening your door quietly to find you out cold under the covers. 

With Snø clutched tightly in your arms, your nose pressed against the soft polar bear, you looked so young. 

“Pequeña, despierta,” Mapi murmured, sitting on the edge of your bed and pulling the covers away from your face a bit. 

You blinked up at her groggily, an adorably sleepy expression on your face, and Mapi couldn’t help but push some hair out of your face and smile down at you. You looked slightly suspicious, as you couldn’t remember being woken up like this in the entire time living in Spain, but Mapi just handed you your coffee, and settled on the edge of your bed. 

“Morning,” you said after a minute and a rather large sip of coffee. 

“Afternoon.” Mapi corrected, a little confused when your face turned red at the comment. “It’s 12:15.” 

“That’s weird. Normally Ingrid comes to make sure I’m breathing if I sleep past 10.” You noted. 

Mapi chuckled. “We’re working on some of your sister’s annoying habits.” 

“Don’t get rid of too many, or there won’t be anything left.” You said, your lips tugging up into a smirk. 

“Okay! I will just go through this chocolate croissant I made for you in the garbage!” Ingrid scoffed from the doorway, turning on her heel and marching back down the stairs. 

If there was any surefire way to get you out of bed, it was to present you with a breakfast pastry. 

Within 90 seconds, you had kicked Mapi out, thrown some clothes on and bounded down the stairs, in search of the promised croissant. It was sitting on a plate at the counter, waiting for you, next to your sister who was glaring at you slightly. 

“Thank you, Ing,” you said sweetly, throwing her a charming smile. She rolled her eyes but smiled nonetheless. 

You hit Mapi’s hand playfully when she reached for your croissant, and she withdrew it with a laugh. “You’re like breakfast pastries the way Ingrid is about coffee.” 

“Reasonable? Reasonably attached to it? Is that what you mean, María?” Ingrid asked with a frown. 

“Of course, mi amor.” Mapi said with a smile, kissing Ingrid’s cheek softly. You averted your eyes, but you couldn’t lie and say that it didn’t make you happy to see your sister loved so well. 

The morning, or afternoon, was going exactly as you’d hoped. No attempts at conversation. No feelings. Of course, it couldn’t last. Once you’d finished eating, Ingrid perked up and seemed to prepare herself for what she was about to say, which instantly made you weary. 

“We should talk about last night, kjære.” Ingrid said calmly. 

You froze, slowly putting your mug back on the counter. Both other girls watched the way your whole body tense, the way every ounce of emotion was wiped off your face. 

“I’m fine. There’s nothing to talk about.” You said stiffly. 

“That is not true. Something upset you, and we should discuss it.” Ingrid argued. 

“Ingrid, it’s fine. Just leave it. We don’t need to talk about that. We don’t need to talk about anything.” You replied defensively. 

“It’s not fine!” Ingrid said, raising her voice, and shaking off Mapi’s gestures to calm down. “None of this is fine. We need to talk about last night. We need to talk about the letter you wrote. We need to get you in therapy. These are all things that need to happen, solstråle. We’ve given you time, now we need to do this.” 

“I am not going to therapy.” You declared, standing up with a scoff and crossing your arms across your chest. “Ingrid, I am fine. I don’t need to talk and I don’t need help.” 

Ingrid grew visibly more angry with you at that, throwing her arms up in the air in frustration. 

“Amor, take a breath.” Mapi said quietly, sighing to herself when Ingrid did not do so. 

“You don’t need help? That is the most untrue thing I have ever heard. You do not write the things that you wrote and then turn around and say you’re fine. You. Need. Help.” 

“Ingrid. I am not going to therapy, and I am done talking about this.” You said, your voice dangerously quiet. 

Your sister wasn’t phased, stepping closer to you with her eyes narrowed. “You will go to therapy if I say you will, and this conversation is not over until I say it is.” 

In retrospect, even Ingrid realized that this was decidedly the wrong thing to say. You didn’t take well to being told what to do. Your reaction really should have been worse; Ingrid had gotten off easy. 

“Jesus, Ingrid, do you hear yourself? You sound just like mom.” You spit back, feeling a bit of satisfaction at the hurt that flashed across your sister’s face. “I don’t want to talk about this, especially not with you.” You spun around and began stomping towards the stairs. “Don’t fucking follow me.” You warned over your shoulder, causing Ingrid’s jaw to drop. 

“Do not-” Ingrid began, starting after you. 

“Amor, leave her.” Mapi said, intervening before Ingrid got very far, and pulling her back. 

“She is the most frustrating person on the planet.” Ingrid huffed, slamming a hand down onto the counter. Mapi looked unimpressed. 

“She is probably thinking the same thing about you right now. I told you not to push her.” 

Ingrid rolled her eyes. “Could you be on my side here for once?” She asked bitingly. 

Mapi very calmly shook her head, opening her mouth to explain when Ingrid’s eyebrows flew up on her forehead. “No. I am on your sister’s side, and you should be too. No one has been for a really long time.”

The Norwegian deflated at that, sinking down into one of the stools at the counter. Mapi continued speaking, pulling Ingrid’s hair gently out of the bun it was in, and running her fingers through it. “You’re looking at this wrong, mi amor. She doesn’t need you to talk her into therapy. She’ll get there on her own, you just need to give her time. That girl has a long way to go before she admits she needs help, believe me.” 

Ingrid sighed deeply. “Can you go check on her? She’s mad at me, I just need you to make sure she’s okay and she isn’t going to do anything stupid.” 

“Of course.” Mapi said, delicately kissing Ingrid’s lips. “I love you.” She reminded the Norwegian with a soft, almost shy smile. 

Ingrid wanted to cry at how sweet, how perfect, how helpful and kind and funny and beautiful her girlfriend was. “I love you, so so much.” 

Mapi headed for the stairs, and Ingrid made yet another cup of coffee, a coffee she wouldn’t drink.

Because Mapi came running back down the stairs a minute later, an apprehensive look on her face as she approached her girlfriend. 

“Mi amor, she isn’t up there.” She said carefully. 

“What do you mean she isn’t up there,” Ingrid asked, rising to her feet and feeling panic rise within her. 

Mapi just shook her head, putting her hands on Ingrid’s shoulders. “She isn’t up there. Her window is open, I think she snuck out.” 

Ingrid felt like something inside of her was collapsing, leaving behind a chasm that was quickly filling with anxiety. “Where… what? She… she’s gone? She…we have to-” 

What had you left to do? Only horrible, life shattering options of where you were and what you were doing were flying through Ingrid’s head, and she reached out, latching on to Mapi’s outstretched hands. 

“Amor, breathe. Calm down. We’ll find her. Where would she go?” 

Mapi hoped, with everything in her, that Ingrid had an answer. Because she had to be calm right now, for Ingrid, but Barcelona was a big city. And if you didn’t want to be found… Mapi didn’t know what would happen. 

Ingrid’s mind was racing, but one thought pushed to the front of everything else. “The lake, there’s a lake in Melhus she would always go to when she was upset. She’d go to water, a body of water.” 

Mapi nodded. “Okay, there are 2 beaches in walking distance, in opposite directions. We’ll go to one, and we’ll send Frido to the other.” 

Privately, Mapi hoped Frido found you first. She wasn’t quite sure that you wouldn’t bolt away from Ingrid, but you wouldn’t be expecting Frido to pop up. 

-------

A quick call to Frido later, Mapi was directing one very frazzled Norwegian into the car, and setting off for the beach. Ingrid was deep in thought, and Mapi kept her hand on her girlfriend’s leg, softly and soothingly rubbing her thumb back and forth. It was only a few minutes to the beach, and Mapi knew Ingrid would talk before they arrived. 

“Do you think she’d do something stupid?” Ingrid asked anxiously, her hand covering Mapi’s and gripping tightly. The Spaniard didn’t need her to explain what she meant; she knew this question was coming, really. 

“She said she wouldn’t.” Mapi said calmly. 

“She said she wouldn’t ‘do that to me,’ that doesn’t mean she wouldn’t do it, especially now that she’s mad at me.”

“This is a little fight. She wouldn’t… do that. Not over this.” Mapi reassured her, but Ingrid remained unconvinced. 

“I don’t know what she’s thinking, María, maybe she was lying before.” 

“Ingrid, mi amor, calm down. You have to trust her. Even when you’re scared, and even when it feels like you should take her bedroom door off the hinges and implant her with a GPS chip. You have to trust her not to hurt herself.”

“But what if she does?” Ingrid asked softly, as if saying the words loud enough would somehow will it into existence. 

“We can’t think like that. Promise me you won’t think like that, okay?” 

“Okay.” Ingrid agreed faintly. Both of them knew she was lying. It was all she’d been worrying about for days, and all she would worry about for many to come. 

--------

Frido found you first. When she drove by the beach and didn't see you there, she got another idea. There was a rock climbing place nearby; Ingrid had said you always used to go to a lake back home when you were upset. Though Frido didn’t want to say so, it had been a long time since Ingrid had lived with you, and it wouldn’t have surprised her if your habits had changed. And the Swede knew from your instagram that you spent a lot of time rock climbing. She told Mapi where she was headed, and sped over to the gym. 

Sure enough, as soon as she walked in the building, she spotted you in the middle of the hardest wall, seemingly only using the smallest holds to get yourself up. You were breathing hard, and the worker belaying you looked a bit concerned. 

Frido pulled her phone out, shooting off a quick text to Mapi.  “She’s here, she’s okay. Let me talk to her, don’t let Ingrid come in. I’ll bring her out.” 

Ingrid probably wouldn’t help the situation, if you were as angry as you seemed. The blonde spoke quickly to the front desk attendant, and headed over to where you were. 

She stood, just watching you. You were a few feet from the top now, luckily for your hands, which you clearly had not put enough chalk on, and were beginning to really hurt. With only a bit to go, you took a risk, attempting an impressive, one armed pull to get your other hand to the next hold. You just barely missed, falling away from the wall. 

“Fuck,” you cursed, swinging back towards the wall and smacking it with your hand. You were lowered down, clearly fuming, and Frido took the opportunity to step in front of you, giving the girl attached to the other end of the rope a look. 

“Again,” you requested, avoiding Frido’s gaze. 

She took your hand in hers, though, inspecting the tear in your skin, shaking her head. “No, that’s enough Solstråle.” 

“Leave me alone, Frido.” You snapped, trying to pull away from her when you felt the rope fall slack. You turned, seeing that the worker had abandoned her harness in favor of going to help someone else, no doubt at Frido’s direction. 

You rolled your eyes, quickly regretting it when the Swede raised an eyebrow at you. Ingrid could be scary sometimes, but she had nothing on Frido. 

“Are they here?” You asked, loosening the harness and stepping out of it with an exasperated sigh. 

“They’re outside. You terrified your sister.” Frido said, pulling you over to a bench and making you sit down, before handing you a bottle of water. 

You looked unimpressed. “I’m 18, I can handle myself in the city for an hour.” 

“She wasn’t worried about that, she was worried you were going to hurt yourself.” Frido said bluntly, sitting down next to you. She ignored how stiff you’d grown and how uncomfortable you seemed, reaching for your hand and looking at it critically. 

“That wasn’t on purpose.” You said defensively, wrenching your hand away once again. “And I told her I wouldn’t do that.” 

“Can you blame her for worrying, Solstråle, really? And maybe you didn’t do that on purpose, but you came here to push yourself instead of dealing with your feelings in a healthy way.” 

You really hated that she was right. Frido was always right. It was simultaneously her worst and best trait.

“Are they mad?” You asked in a small voice, suddenly looking very much your age. Frido stood and held out a hand to help you up.

“Not right now. Just worried. Ingrid’s going to give you a hug and you’re going to let her.” Frido instructed. You supposed that was fair. And really, you could use a hug. Hugs from your sister always made you feel better, even if you’d never admit it. 

As you exited the building, you instantly spotted your sister and her girlfriend by their car. Mapi was leaning calmly against the Cupra, while Ingrid was pacing frantically, speaking fast and gesturing wildly with her hands. 

“Did I do that?” You asked quietly. 

Frido laughed. “I think she was born like that.” 

As you neared the car, Ingrid turned as Mapi pointed at you, her face melting with relief at the sight of you. It really hit you, then, how worried she must have been, to still be so anxious even after Frido had likely told her you were okay. You weren’t making this easy on your sister. 

She practically knocked you over with the force of her hug. “You’re okay.” She murmured into the top of your head, leaving a kiss there. 

“I’m okay.” You reiterated, letting yourself hug her back tightly, even if it was just for a moment. She felt you tighten your arms around her almost unconsciously, and made a note to hug you more often. Even if it seemed like you weren’t very interested. After a minute she pulled back, placing both hands on your cheeks and making you look at her. 

“Next time leave through the front door? And tell me where you’re going? Please?” She asked. You appreciated that she didn’t tell you to do this, leaving it more as a request, although you knew it was a reasonable rule for her to put in place.

“Promise.” You said quietly. She nodded her head, satisfied, before pulling Frido into a hug that also looked to be too tight. Mapi was looking at you, rather unimpressed. You knew she was not happy with you for upsetting your sister so much, and though it annoyed you a bit, you knew it was deserved. And you appreciated that your sister had someone that was so protective over her. 

“In the car, nena. I want to talk to you when we get home.” Mapi instructed. You got in the car with no argument, the fight having gone out of you a bit. It had nothing to do with the hug Ingrid had given you, nothing at all. Definitely not. Instead of anger, you only felt apprehension, because Mapi looked dead serious about whatever she wanted to talk about. 

-------

You were nothing short of shocked when Mapi opened the door to the garage and gestured you inside upon arriving home. Ingrid watched on anxiously, and you pretended not to see the way Mapi whispered some reassurance to her and kissed her cheek, before pointing her towards the kitchen

You’d never been in the garage before; it was Mapi’s space. You were already invading her home, you wouldn’t invade the one place of the house that was really hers, too. You knew she worked something out there, knew there was a reason both cars parked in the driveway instead of in the garage. 

Mapi followed you into the room and sat down on a stool next to the large motorcycle in the middle of the garage. It was clearly in the process of being restored. You hadn’t known Mapi rode motorcycles. Well, you hadn’t known that your sister let Mapi ride a motorcycle. You stood awkwardly in the door as Mapi inspected 2 different wrenches, until she pointed at the stool next to her. 

“Ven aqui, nena.” She said. 

You took a seat, not really enjoying the tense silence that washed over the room. “Are you mad at me?” You asked after a minute. For all your anger, and all your bravado, you didn’t like it when people were mad at you. Especially not people you looked up to, people you admired. 

“No. Not mad, nena. Never mad. I wish you hadn’t snuck out your window, but I understand why you did. I wish sometimes you thought a bit more about how your actions affect me and your sister, but I know how hard that is to do when you’re as angry as you are.” 

“I’m not angry.” You said defensively. Mapi rolled her eyes, handing you a couple of tools and beginning to tighten something on the bike. 

“You are angry. You’re so angry that you feel like you’re going to explode sometimes. You’re so angry that sometimes you forget that you’re sad, too. You’re angry, and you’re hurt, and I cannot blame you for that. If anyone has a right to those emotions, it’s you.” You didn’t really enjoy being perceived so well, shifting uncomfortably in your seat. “I know angry, nena. Do you remember when I hurt my knee?” 

You nodded. The first few weeks of Mapi's injury hadn’t been a fun time, your sister beyond stressed with dealing with Mapi’s injury and her new role in the team, and you’d tried hard to be on your best behavior. 

“I started working on this bike a year ago, when everything happened with the Spanish federation. It was Ingrid’s idea, a way for me to distract myself. When I hurt my knee, it had been a bit since I’d worked on it, but suddenly I was back in this garage until all hours of the night. It’s nice to be able to control something like this, when everything else feels out of your control. That is how climbing is for you, yes?” 

You relaxed a bit at the turn the conversation was taking, and Mapi wasn’t surprised. It wasn’t just the topic; it was the fact that she wasn’t staring at you, putting pressure on you to give her an answer she wanted to hear. You were just talking. Casually. 

“Yeah. I’m in control, and I don’t have to think about anything else. It’s relaxing.” 

“It’s good for you to have an outlet like that.” Mapi stated. “This bike was Ingrid’s idea, when we first got together. Do you know what her other idea was?” 

You were pretty sure you did, and you grimaced at the thought. “Therapy?” 

Mapi snorted, handing you the wrench she was using and taking the screwdriver from your hand. “Yes therapy. You don’t have to look at it like that, though, it doesn’t have to be a bad thing.”

“It’s not for me.” You said decisively. 

Mapi just shrugged. “I didn’t think it was for me either.” She paused, knowing your curiosity would get the better of you, and you’d ask for more information. 

“What changed your mind?” You asked after a minute. 

“Your sister did. After the euros, I had a hard time coming back to Barça and playing. Those weeks were some of the hardest of my life, trying to find my rhythm again but trying to recover from the stress I’d been under that summer. I was a mess. And Ingrid was right there with me, through all of it. I’d had a really bad day, and I asked Ingrid to come home early from a lunch she had. She came home, calmed me down, and afterwards, she asked me if I trusted her. I said I did. And she said that she really wanted me to try therapy. That I didn’t have to feel how I felt, and I deserved help. I deserved to not be miserable. She asked me to try it, for her, just give it a try.” 

“And you did.” 

“And I did. Because she’d done so much for me, I couldn’t refuse her request. Not when I knew she just wanted the best for me. I gave it a shot, and it helped, more than anything else had helped. It wasn’t a fix all, but it helped. It made me feel like I was doing something to get better.” 

Mapi abandoned her work on the bike, looking at you for the first time since you’d entered the garage. You could only see sincerity in her gaze. Not anger, but annoyance. Just sincerity. “You deserve help, Solstråle. No matter how you feel about yourself, Ingrid and I know you. And we know you deserve help. You’re a good person, and you deserve to be happy.” 

María sounded so sure. So completely convinced. You looked away from her, blinking hard. 

“You don’t have to agree to anything now. Keep an open mind about it. Think about it. Okay?” 

“Okay.” You agreed quietly, grateful that Mapi didn’t make a big deal out of it, only nodding slightly. 

“One more promise?” She asked. 

“What?” 

“Talk to us. Or just me, or just Ingrid. We’re a little lost here, nena. It feels like we were just kind of plopped down in the middle of this. We had no idea anything was going on, not really. And all of a sudden we’re reading that letter, and realizing we missed a lot. That’s on us; we should have noticed sooner. We don’t have the whole picture, though, and that makes it really hard for us to figure out how to help you. We’ll both worry a lot less if you talked to us, just a little bit.” 

That was reasonable, you had to admit. When she put it like that. You’d spent so much time being annoyed that no one had noticed, then being annoyed when they finally did notice, you hadn’t really spent a ton of time thinking about how little they knew. There was no context to your behavior, aside from what you’d put in the letter. And that just barely scratched the surface. You supposed they deserved an explanation. At least a bit of one. 

“I’ll try.” You promised. 

Mapi grinned at you this time, an infectious smile. “Bueno! Come here with that wrench. No, that one. Put it on this bolt. Twist.” 

And just like that, the conversation was over. Easily. You got the feeling that Mapi would have let it go if you’d insisted on it, but you miraculously felt better. Talking, listening had made you feel better. Mapi had made you feel better. 

-------

You both emerged from the garage around an hour and a half later, when the smell of baking cookies became too strong to resist. Ingrid had clearly been stress baking, one of your favorite of her habits. There were at least 3 different types of cookies on the counter, some done baking, some still in progress. It smelled so distinctly of home in the house, it was almost overwhelming. 

“I have something for you,” Ingrid said, drying her hands and stepping away from the counter when you walked into the room. 

“I can see that.” You said, nodding to the cookies appreciatively, but Ingrid shook her head. 

“No, something else.” Ingrid said.

“OH! I do too.” Mapi said excitedly, and they both disappeared in different directions. You stood bewildered in the kitchen, not quite sure what you were about to be given. 

They returned simultaneously, each holding what looked to be 2 frames. “Mapi’s first.” Ingrid directed. “I haven’t seen it yet.” 

You looked surprisingly at Mapi, taking the present and beginning to unwrap the wrapping paper. “What is this for?” You asked. 

“Your birthday.” Ingrid said quietly. You froze momentarily, an unreadable expression flashing across your face. “I know it seems like we forgot, but we didn’t. We got the dates messed up, but we had presents, and we had dinner reservations, just… for the 25th. Not the 15th.” 

“Oh. I thought you’d forgotten.” You said slowly, seemingly slightly emotional. 

“Nope, just bad at remembering dates. Now open your present.” Mapi said impatiently, bouncing on her feet like an overexcited child. 

You unwrapped it slowly, as if you were slightly weary of what it might be. When you pulled the frame from the wrapping paper, though, every wall you’d put up fell instantly, your jaw dropping open at the piece of art in your hands. 

It was a map. Not just a map, but a map of all the hiking trails in Barcelona. It was textured, detailed, labeled. It was intricate, all neutrals and earthy colors. It was so you. From the contents to the design, it was like it had been made just for you. 

“Mapi…” You whispered, staring, stunned, at the map. “Where did you… how did you… what?” 

“Ale’s sister Fresa  went to school with this girl that hand makes maps like this. I got her name from diablillo, and I told her what I wanted. Do you like it, do you like it?” Mapi asked excitedly. 

Mapi got her answer when you handed the frame to Ingrid, and launched yourself the few feet between you and Mapi, wrapping her in a tight hug. Mapi beamed at Ingrid, who was trying very hard not to cry. She hadn’t even given Mapi any advice on the gift. It had been all her girlfriend’s idea, she executed it all by herself, determined to get Solstråle the perfect gift. 

“It’s perfect, thank you María,” you mumbled. The ridiculous smile on Mapi’s lips didn’t falter at the use of her real name, only squeezing you tighter. 

“Te amo, Solstråle.” She said back. For once, you believed it. When you pulled away from the hug, it was to see Mapi looking smugly at your sister. “INGRID I DEFINITELY WON.”

Ingrid rolled her eyes. “She hasn’t even opened my present yet.”

“Still. I won.” Mapi smirked. 

Now it was Ingrid’s turn to hand you your gift. It was wrapped in the same paper, and you tore it off, almost cautiously, not quite sure what Ingrid would have gotten you. 

You were, once again, speechless at what you saw. This time, your eyes filled with tears immediately. Ingrid wasn’t as excited as Mapi had been, instead looking at you anxiously. 

It was a painting of a waterfall back home not far from your house. It was so distinct, you knew Ingrid must have paid a ridiculous amount of money to get someone to hand paint it. Each individual stroke was so precise, blending perfectly into the image it was supposed to be, but if you focused hard, you could pick out the greens and greys and blues and whites that you’d grown up with. 

It felt like home. It felt comforting. You could almost smell the trees, feel the cool sting of wind on your cheeks. It was a little piece of home just for you, and it was perfect. So beautiful and artistic that you weren’t sure you were worthy of it, but you looked at it in awe nonetheless. You wiped at your cheeks, not able to control the tidal wave of emotion washing over you. 

“Kjære? Is it okay?” Ingrid asked anxiously, her eyes searching your face, trying to figure out if these were good tears or bad tears. 

You let out an incredulous laugh. “Okay? Ingrid… it’s the most perfect thing I’ve ever seen in my life. It’s… perfect. Thank you.” You said, turning to her with a look of complete shock. And even though it pained Ingrid that you were so surprised to receive a nice gift for your birthday, she pushed that feeling down. Instead, she pulled you in towards her, placing the frame on the counter so she could hug you properly. You were happy with it, now, and that was all Ingrid had control over. 

After a few seconds, Ingrid moved to pull away and break the hug, but you kept your arms wrapped around her, not quite ready to let go yet. Maybe it was the homesickness, or maybe it was your sister making you feel so known, and so loved. Whatever the reason, you just wanted her near you for a minute more, holding you nice and tight and safe against her. 

“I love you,” she whispered, hearing you mumble the words back, your voice thick with emotion. When you did pull away, a minute later, it was to wipe at your face in an almost embarrassed manner. 

Seeing how desperate you were for the attention to be off your tears, Mapi spoke up, her voice light and easy. “You can put them up in your room, you don’t have anything on the walls.” 

You looked at the ground, then, almost sheepishly. “I didn’t know I could put anything up on them.” You admitted.

The room fell quiet, but even though you could tell that what you said had hurt Ingrid and Mapi, they just shook their heads softly. “It’s your room, for good, you can do whatever you want to it.” Ingrid told you. 

You were about to thank her, and try to move the conversation long when Mapi let out a dramatic gasp. Both you and Ingrid whipped your heads to look at her, confused at the mischievous grin on her face. 

“Ikea. WE CAN GO TO IKEA AND GET FURNITURE FOR SOLSTRÅLE’S ROOM.” 

“María, calm down. Maybe she doesn’t want to redo her room.” Ingrid looked at you hopefully, and you knew it had nothing to do with your room, and everything to do with her not wanting to take Mapi to ikea. 

You simply smirked back at Ingrid, who sighed and shut her eyes for a minute. 

“Okay. Ikea.” She said finally. You and Mapi cheered, comically loudly, completely ignoring the rules she was setting in favor of high fiving each other and going to get ready to leave. “María, you are not building anything. Solstråle does not need her bed to collapse under her in the middle of the night. And kjære, please, please, don’t let Mapi talk you into a loft bed, you’ll fall off of it and break your arm. Amor? Kjære? ARE EITHER OF YOU LISTENING!” Ingrid shouted after you, rolling her eyes at the chants of ikea echoing around the house. 

Mapi in Ikea was a handful. You, too, were a handful at the store. Together? She was going to lose one of you, she was sure of it. It had been a long day already. And it was only set to get longer. 

--------

fluffy engen-león family trying to put furniture together in the next part?

yes, that IS all i have to say about this chapter thank you for your time.

[mj0702]

do you think well get another Ingrid Engen x Mapí Leon x Reader fic anytime soon

I... don't think so? 😅😅

I'm writing by mood at the moment so I don't really know what getting done.... I have the prequel-sequel to "talk to us" saved on my laptop - half finished and not looked at in ages but it's there 😅😅

so I really can't confirm nor deny

what would you want to see anon? smut? fluff? angst (I'm not good at angst so please say no)

[tobinheath]

mapí leon can fuck me up ... please

Well you said please