#it was just a windy road | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

girlgenius1111 · 9 months ago

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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.

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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.

#woso imagine #woso x reader #barcelona femeni x reader #ingrid engen x mapí leon #ingrid engen x reader #mapi leon x reader #engen!reader #platonic reader #woso one shot #woso fanfics #sol☀️#🍓☀️

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tmwcs · 5 months ago

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Little Red Riding Hood - Part One

Pairings: Jake X fem!y/n

Warnings: Werewolf Jake, there will be smut in his werewolf form, knotting, CNC smut, non/dub-con, kidnapping, Jake is Yandere in this one. Based off the fairytale. This is part one.

Authors note: Hello my lovely readers! Finally had some time to post part one, will be posting part two tonight. Please note that I have not had any time to go over and fix the structure or grammar, I wanted to but that would have furthered delayed in posting the parts and I just didn’t know when I’d get the time to do that. So please ignore any mistakes as this is not at all proofread. But I’m excited to write for you guys again! Enjoy! ♥️

“Y/n! Don’t forget the basket of fruit.”

Your mother trails behind, hand delivering the goods as you enter the uber. “Oh! Thanks mom. I’ll be back later.”

She nods. “Okay, have fun with granny!” waving goodbye, she sees you off as your driver pulls out of the driveway. The ride was silent, at least up until he entered the back road. “Visiting grandma’s house, huh?” he presents, attempting to make conversation. You nod. “Mmhmm.”

You take a moment to respond to unanswered texts, losing track of the value of time as the driver takes a backroad. It went unnoticed until you looked up the window and failed to recognize the scenery. “Um…sir? Which road is this?”

“Oh, just a shortcut. It will cut our trip in half this way.” Your brows frowned. Your grandma wasn’t far at all, only five miles down from the main road. The robust driver continued to travel along the long windy path, which ultimately surpassed the length of time it would normally take to reach your grandmother’s home. “Sir, please drop me off here.” You spoke sternly as you felt uneasy by the driver's response. His caucasian features presented a stoic countenance as he kept flashing a perverse gaze through the rearview mirror, making eye contact.

“Sir, I said drop me off here!” you demanded, yet all it did was make him chuckle laconically. “And leave a pretty girl like you stranded?”

You hissed. “I’m calling the police. Either you drop me off here, or I’m giving them your information.” A sudden turn of the vehicle gives you some relief, until he spoke out. “Fine, I'll drop you off.”

You quickly exit the vehicle. He berated and demanded extra payment for the inconvenience of the trip, in which you scolded him. “You have got to be kidding me! You’re the one who took me out here! I am nowhere near my destination, just what were your intentions? You sicko!”

After a spat that continued to go back and forth, you figured that this pathetic man was only trying to buy time and continue to view you from his mirror. It was the only sensible explanation, seeing as how he didn’t pose a greater threat other than lashing cursings and insults. Finally, with you dialing the number to the police yet again, the driver darts off, seeing that you weren’t bluffing. “Idiot.” you hissed as you watched the car disappear in the distance.

You attempted to make a phone call to your mother, but the call never went through. Figures. Being out here in the country, it seemed that the entire region was undeveloped. Your best chance was to walk on foot and knock at the first house you see. Carrying the basket, you start your journey and head in the direction of where you last saw the vehicle.

The windy breeze began picking up, fluttering the hem of your short sundress. An idea pops in your head and you remove the protective cover of the basket–a long red sash. Wrapping it around your body, it was wide enough to cloak your bodice and mid thigh. The length provided enough material for you to tie loosely around your waist as it draped over your hair, just as if it were really a cloak. “Perfect!” you whisper.

About a quarter of a mile out, and still there was no sign of any inhabitants. You can’t wait to get back home and report that driver to the head of the company. “He should be fired.” you huffed as you continued to walk. The sun started to set, which escalated your fear of not being able to make it back in time before nightfall. The massive forestry arching the road didn't make it easier. You looked back repeatedly to see if a car would come by. You’re not one to hitchhike, but there’s a first time for everything, you guess.

Your low heeled shoes started to feel uncomfortable as you reached a full mile. You wondered if turning back and heading in the opposite direction was a better option at this point. Just as you were reconsidering your approach, a lone vehicle pulls up from behind. It was black, and a luxury brand. Counting your lucky stars, you instantly greet the driver as the window pulls down.

“Hello, are you lost?”

From the angle you stood, you could only view the man’s lips and his seated position. He was finely dressed, and had on an intricate designed leather glove that partially decorated his left hand. “Yes! Could you please give me a lift to the next town?”

You watch as his lips give off a half smile, and the clicking of the locking feature puts you at ease when he reaches over the center console and opens the door for you. “Hop in.”

You settle yourself in the fine leather seating and then it hits you internally.

‘Whoa…’

The man presents a hand initiating the formal manners of introduction as he bids you to shake his. “I’m Jake.”

You gently take his hand with your fingertips and give a subtle shake. “I’m y/n.” The man was too handsome. His wide glasses gave him a classic appeal, while his lengthy hair enhanced it all as it swooped over the side. He looked as smooth as aged liquor, and as fine as fresh silk. Given the luxury of his attire and car, you figured he either came from a wealthy family or made his own fortune, which proposed the bigger question in what he was doing driving on this lonesome road. There was absolutely nothing industrious about this entire place, what could a fashionable man possibly be doing here?

You figured it would be too rude to inquire, so you merely relaxed and made conversation instead. “Thank you for giving me a ride. My uber driver had left me stranded and i am unfamiliar with this part of town.”

He kept his eyes on the road, relaxed in his seat as he steered the vehicle with one hand. His suit outlined his lean muscle and broad chest. You’ve never seen such an incredible looking man before. “Left you stranded, huh? That wasn’t nice of him.”

His voice was deep and equally as smooth as his looks. “Where was he taking you?” he inquires softly. You answer, which propelled him to continue on. “Your grandmother’s house is this far out?”

“No.” you respond. “He took this route while I was on my phone and I’m not sure why. I started to feel uneasy so I told him to drop me off here. I figured it was better to take chances on foot than it was to stay inside the car with him.”

“And what was he driving?”

You were somewhat confused at his inquiry of the driver's vehicle, yet it somehow made you flattered that the man appeared to indicate that he was going to take action against the rude driver. “It was a white car, I can't remember the make or model but its on my uber app.”

He nods. “I see. I suppose you want me to take you to the police station?”

You shook your head and asked if he wouldn’t mind bringing you to your grandmother’s home, to which he agreed. He gently taps on the wide screen on the dashboard. “You can put in the address.”

Once the gps feature was set, you frowned and internally cursed the uber driver in seeing that you were thirty minutes out from where your grandmother’s house was located. Feeling terrible that man, Jake, had to go out of his way to bring you there, you offered to pay him gas money, to which he declined. “Its alright. No need.”

As much as you hated the fact that you were so far out, you found yourself grateful at the fact that you had so much time to spend talking with Jake. His voice was so light and airy, yet deep with a lustful bravado. His features were perfect, and you had to keep reminding yourself to avoid staring.

Finally, you reach your destination as he pulls up to your grandmother’s mailbox. “We’re here.” A man of few words, yet somehow that just made him more attractive. You thanked him as you unbuckle your seatbelt. “One moment.” You halt your movements at the sound of his voice, and watch as he leans in. His chest hovering over the center console as he delicately unbuckles your seatbelt for you. With his face close to yours, you slightly blush and clear your throat as the smell of his cologne dances in your nostrils. He smirks as he unravels the seatbelt and lets it free from his grip. “Let me get the door for you.”

You watch through the windshield as he walks around the front of the car. Hand in pocket, his frame and stature in full sight was equally as impressive as his profile. God this man was so sexy.

He opens the door and helps you out. “Oh…thank you.” you softly express your gratitude while he takes your hand and stabilizes your posture as you hold onto the hem of your dress while getting out. His smooth tone had a faint–a very faint chuckle as he responded. “Hmph. No problem.”

The sunset fired the sky with an orange red hue. “Looks like it's going to be a full moon tonight.”

You chuckled. Confused by his deduction, you sought clarification. “What makes you think so?”

He remains staring at the sky and you feel his thumb stroking the back of your palm while your hand remains resting in his. You feel the heat of bloodrush as he continues to do so before gently releasing your hand at your side. “Just by the way the sun is setting. The color and direction can tell you these things.”

You look up to view the sky before he says goodbye. “It was nice meeting you. Please be careful. I would have someone else drive you home tonight.”

He was so kind. The fact that he had considered your safety made you fall for him, more so than what is considered normal considering you didn’t know this man. Still, how can someone be so beautiful inside and out? “Thank you…Jake.”

He flashes a smile–a real one this time. His teeth were pearly white and straight, enhancing the dashing value of his appeal. “Take care, y/n.”

He drives off after seeing you reach the front door. You sigh as sadness settles in your heart and soul watching him go. “I wish I could see you again…Jake.”

Entering the house, you announce your presence aloud, hoping that your grandma wouldn’t be startled as you let yourself in. Noticing the lack of response, you venture in and explore the house, and see no one was home. It figures. Your grandmother spent a lot of time at one of the neighbors' homes. She probably assumed you weren’t coming and went to spend time with some friends. You reached into the basket and noticed that your phone was not inside. “Oh no–my phone…my phone!”

Since your dress didn’t have any pockets, you had it nestled in the basket during the drive. It must have fallen out on the ride here, which posed another dilemma. You pick up the landline and dial your mother’s phone number, when a stagnant tone indicates that the line was busy or unresponsive.

After a few minutes of pondering, you figured it was best to take your grandmother's car and head back home. Hopefully she wouldn’t mind.

You make your way out and head to the main road, when construction signs indicated that all routes to the path were blocked. With your phone in Jake’s car and no GPS feature in your grandmother’s older vehicle, you had no choice but to head back the way you came in—the backroad. At least this time you had a car and didn’t have to face traveling by foot anymore.

Driving the same route, you turn the bright lights on as night falls. It wasn’t long before you saw red flashing beams blurring up around the bend. You make the curve and rest your eyes on a vehicle stalled to the side. The blinking lights continue to flicker on a steady tempo as you slowly pull from behind. The driver was nowhere to be seen, yet the door remained ajar. You felt uneasy, but you couldn’t leave without confirming that the passenger was unharmed. You place the car in park directly behind and call out–but no answer. You check your surroundings before breaching the driver side and peeking in–a sight that sends shivers down your spine. The windshield was stained with the words “she’s mine” all in blood. The bright red color combined with the ongoing dripping indicated that it was fresh. It only got worse as you continued to look around.

“Polaroids?”

A stack of small prints laid sporadically on the seats and floorboard–some were smeared with hints of blood. Looking closely at the photos, your breath paused as you squint in confusion. You pick up one of the prints and gasp in horror.

“This is–”

You held the photo in a pinched grip as your heartbeat escalated. The photos all were images of you during the uber ride. The angle of the camera was primarily pointed under the skirt of your dress, while others captured the fleshy softness of your cleavage, your defined collarbone, and delicate shoulders. Your hair draping over your bosom with your side profile reflecting your thoughtful gaze as you stared through the window. Everything became clear as you recognized the vehicle and its interior.

The Uber driver…

Part two coming soon…

#jake scenarios #jake imagines #jake fic #jake fanfic #jake enhypen #jake sim smut #jake sim x reader #jake x reader #jake sim #jake smut #enhypen jake #jake #sim jake #jake smau #yandere fiction #yandere enha #yandere enhypen

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thisbibliomaniac · 4 days ago

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Pickup drivers be like

This is the perfect weather for tailgating

Why are men who drive pickup trucks so stupid? Is it some disease that they all have? Stupidity?

#especially on the highway #and going down hills #and on windy roads with multiple stop signs #behind people with their flashers on #instead of just passing #or - God forbid - not speeding in whiteout conditions

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lordprettyflackotara · 7 months ago

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hitchhiker || the proxies || prologue

tw: mentions of murder

“Son of a bitch!”

Masky’s voice was hoarse under his mask, the muddy slope under him making him slide forward. A rough hand grasped his forearm, keeping him from falling. He glanced over his shoulder, Hoodies gloved hand wrapped around his mustard jacket. He glared at Toby as he slid down the muddy slope with glee, splashing mud onto his already tattered jeans. Masky’s eyes narrowed as he heard the familiar quiet giggles coming from under Toby’s mask.

“W-where are we?” Toby questioned. The three looked around, Masky’s memory the most hazy out of the three. Him being elected the leader made the least sense sometimes, considering how scrambled his brain was. “The butt fuck of no where is my guess,” Masky huffed. Hoodie looked in front of them a two way road the only sign of civilization. He turned to Masky, who was about five seconds away from a rage fit. “We need to find our way back to the mansion,” Masky sighed. He began walking along the side of the road, assuming Hoodie and Toby would follow.

“You’re not seriously proposing we walk back to civilization are you?” Hoodie asked plainly. Masky gritted his teeth, annoyance washing over him. “You got a better idea?” He snapped. Toby skipped in front of Masky, turning around to face him as he walked backwards. “We c-c-can hit-tchhike!” He said cheerfully. Masky and Hoodie exchanged looks, watching as Toby raised his arm by the road. He raised a thumb, his signature bloody axe thrown over his opposite shoulder.

“Anyone who willful picks us up has got to be a lunatic,” Hoodie muttered. A set of headlights appeared over the clearing, the older men’s eyes narrowing at the sight of your car. “Looks like we got ourselves a lunatic,” Masky grumbled.

“L-l-let me do all of-f-f the talking gentleman,” The younger proxy said. Toby skipped to the front of the car, Masky and Hoodie watching dumbfounded as you rolled down your window. “Do you think it’s because she thinks the kids cute?” Masky asked his partner. Maybe he hadn’t been around women so long that they overlooked blood soaked axes if someone was attractive enough. Hoodie elbowed him. “It’s Halloween, that’s why she’s not bothered,” Hoodie replied quietly. How could Masky have forgotten? Thats the entire reason they were able to complete their mission to begin with.

“You know the rules we can’t have witnesses, no matter how cute,” Hoodie whispered. Masky eyed you carefully, noticing your doe eyes and plump lips. You seemed to be wearing some sort of fairy costume, one that made your breast sit upright. Masky sighed. “Of course. We get in the car and let her drive for a bit. Gives us a break. Once we come to a stopping point we’ll make it short and sweet,” Masky told Hoodie. He gestured his head to the revolver in his jacket pocket, the outline shoving just ever so slightly. Toby came back around the car, waving for them to join him. “Dibsss o-on shotgun!” Toby cheered.

As Masky approached the car he gently shoved Toby towards the backseat. “Yeah right kid, take a seat,” He huffed. Masky slid into the passengers seat of the car, your lips curling into a bright smile. “Hi i’m y/n,” You greeted. Masky gave you a brief nod, the three of them settling into the car. You noted their silence, deciding to change the conversation. “So, where you guys needing to go?” You asked. You started the car again, driving down the windy road. It became apparent that you were intoxicated, your perfume not able to conceal the smell of alcohol. Masky would’ve questioned your ability to drive, if he cared to survive a possible crash.

Death would be a pleasant surprise, if Slender didn’t have EJ bring him back in time. The healing process would be a bitch. “Just back to town. We got lost partying in the woods,”Hoodie answered quickly. Every so often it impressed Masky how quickly his partner could lie on the spot. You nodded. “Well i’m glad I found you guys, Halloween can get pretty crazy,” You slurred. Masky watched cautiously as your eyes flickered into the rearview mirror, looking at Hoodie and Toby. If it were up to him he would have you drive the entire way, so he could relax his never ending storm of a mind.

“What are you three dressed up as? I’m Tinkerbell as you might’ve guessed,” You giggled. Unfortunately your talking and questions were starting to get on Masky’s last nerve. “Y-you ev-ver see the purge? We’re dressed like them!” Toby replied, his neck twitching ever so slightly. Masky refrained from audibly sighing. Toby’s neck only ever twitched like that when he genuinely enjoyed talking to someone. He needed the kid to not get attached to you. Would only make the disposal process harder. And trust him, no one chops up a body like Toby does.

“Thats cool, definitely unique masks you guys have. Can I touch?” You asked innocently. You reached over to Masky, your fingertips threatening to graze his mask. The brunette could feel himself growing angry, his mask the one possession he could not allow to be touched. Hoodies loud coughing stopped your motion, your hand frozen as you glanced back in the rearview mirror. “Are you okay?” You asked cautiously. Masky sighed in relief as you retracted your hand. Hoodie continued fake coughing, giving you a thumbs up with one of his gloved hands.

The games and chit chat were growing old. Maybe if they were normal men, who actually were coming from a Halloween party, you’d be enjoyable. Maybe one of them would be lucky enough to take you home and fuck your brains out in that slutty Tinkerbell costume of yours. But they weren’t normal men and none of them were lucky. “He’s fine, just has bad a-a-asthma,” Toby explained, patting Hoodies shoulder. Masky could see Hoodie subtly cringe at the sensation of physical touch. He despised anyone touching him. “I have asthma too! Hang on I think I have an inhaler in the glovebox,” You replied.

You made a slow left on the windy road, the city lights slowly coming into view from a far. “Hey do you mind grabbing the inhaler from the glovebox?” You asked Masky. He did as instructed, clearing his throat as he handed the inhaler back to Hoodie. It was a subtle signal that they needed to get on with disposing of you. They were close enough to the city now. “Welllll you guys don’t seem like big talkers so i’ll play some music. Is that okay?” You asked. Toby nodded profusely. Music always made the kid overly excited. Masky began to reach in his coat pocket, his revolver always loaded and ready to go. He could feel his metal wrapped around the metal, itching with anticipation.

Your fingertips pressed the center console, turning on a tune Masky hadn’t heard in a long time. The Smiths filled his ears, the lead singers voice soothing. He glanced in the rearview mirror, Hoodie’s head beginning to twitch to the left. Shit, Brian’s gonna be fronting. Masky’s gaze landed on Toby, whose leg was jumping up and down front excitement. This band reminded Hoodie too much of his previous life, triggers like those allowing Brian to front earlier than expected. Masky sighed as the chorus came on, his jaw beginning to clench as an all too familiar pounding began in the front of his temple.

Brian could see Masky’s switch, his hand rubbing his temple as it always did when Tim was about to front. Tim blinked a few times, his breathing feeling suffocated under his mask. His hand slid out of his jacket, leaving his revolver inside. He quickly shoved his mask off, fear washing over him with the realization as to what he just did. Not only could they not have witnesses, but they most certainly could not let anyone who saw their faces walk away alive. Tim shot Brian a worried look, Brian quick to shove off his ski mask. As The Smiths played in the background Tim cleared his throat.

“I’m Tim by the way, and he’s Brian,” He said. He pointed at Toby with him thumb over the seat. “And I’m sure Toby has introduced himself,”

How could they get out of this without killing you?

You smiled drunkenly, Tim noticing your slight curve when driving. “Do you guys want to stop by waffle house?” You asked. Toby went to immediately agree, Brian’s hand flying over his mouth. “Maybe some other time, we have uh, work tomorrow,” Brian answered. Toby shoved his arm away, Brian struggling to keep his hand over the younger man’s mouth. “Bummer. I should probably go home too. Works such a bitch,” You sighed. Tim was trying to listen to you, he really was. But all he could think about was how he was going to have to order your execution. To arrange your meeting with death himself.

His brown eyes flickered to Brian’s in the rearview mirror, who were silently awaiting his instruction. Tim knew his partners expectation, but as he looked over at you, he just couldn’t do it. As you drove into the city you hummed along to the song, your fingers tapping along the steering wheel to the beat. Tim couldn’t put his finger on why exactly he was determined to let you go. Maybe it was his morality that surfaced when he immediately switched. Maybe it was how tired he truly was. He couldn’t remember the last time he slept. Whatever it was, something about you called to him. That calling involving you being alive.

The city lights were mixtures of purples and yellows, illuminating the inside of the car. “Can you pull over at the gas station up here? We live nearby,” Brian interjected, ruining the silence. You nodded, turning on your blinker and driving over to the right lane. Tim didn’t want to leave just yet, resentment of Brian’s words washing over him as you parked the car. “Well here we are,” You say. It wasn’t hard to see you were still drunk, your eyes glazed over. Tim couldn’t help but conclude your intoxication was the only reason you were so calm.

“Thanks for the ride, appreciate it,” Brian said, sliding out of the backseat. Tim listened to the car door slam, slowly taking off his seatbelt. Toby followed his lead. “B-b-bye beautiful!” He said, retreating from the car. Tim gave you a brief glance. He was doing the right thing by sparing your life, right? He slid out of the car, grabbing his mask and shoving it into his coat. You rolled down your passenger window, giving them a wave. “I’ll see you guys around, right?” You asked. Something about the ominous three men was intriguing, a mystery seemingly dying to be solved.

“Most definitely,” Tim replied. He leaned down, propping his arms on the passenger door as he peered down inside of your car. “Seriously, thanks for the ride. If we run into each other again we’ll make up for it,” Tim offered. You smiled, the faintest flush of pink highlighting your cheeks. “I’d like that a lot,” You replied. Tim leaned away, giving you a wave.

“Goodbye Y/n.”

“Goodbye Tim.”

With that you drove away, leaving Tim standing beside Brian and Toby. “You let her go?” Brian questioned. Tim dug into his pants, digging out a box of cigarettes. “Just like that?” Brian continued to questioned. Tim shrugged, bringing a cigarette to his lips. “No sense in killing her. She did us a favor,” He replied blandly. He began digging around for a lighter, Toby furiously jumping in between them. “What?!?! Y-you guys-s-s wanted to kill her?” Toby gasped. Brian rolled his eyes. “Dont be so naive, she’s a witness and we leave no witnesses behind,” He informed him. Brian shot Tim a dirty look and added, “Especially after they’ve seen our faces.”

Tim was aware he was breaking about twenty different protocols by letting you go. He was also more than aware Toby could’ve taken care of you entirely, he wouldn’t have needed to be involved. But he wanted you to live. It was an odd sensation he had never truly felt before, raw craving for someone that came across their path to walk away scratch free. “How long are we stationed here?” Brian asked. Tim finally found his lighter, igniting the end of his cigarette. Once he inhaled he replied, “About another three months.”

Brian crossed his arms, both him and Toby trailing behind Tim as he began to stroll down the sidewalk. He exhaled through his nose, ignoring Brian’s dirty looks. “How exactly do you propose we avoid her for three months?” He asked. Tim rolled his eyes. “For starters there’s the entire possibility she’ll be too drunk to remember us anyways,” He began. He watched as Toby galloped ahead, his axe slung over his shoulder like always. Tim brought out his pack of cigarettes again, gesturing for Brian to take one.

“Besides her meeting us was a mistake. A girl like that doesn’t belong in our world. She’ll never see us again. We’ll be a drunken memory,” Tim insisted. Brian took a cigarette, a gesture that meant he was going to try to trust Tim on this. Tim flickered the lighter, igniting the end of Brian’s cigarette. Once Brian inhaled, the two continued walking.

“You just let her go because she’s cute huh?”

“Dude shut up.”

—> chapter one

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fridgemissionmaster · 30 days ago

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Barbatos x Reader Drabble/Ficlet: A Butler’s Excuses

In which Barbatos finds reasons to spend time with you.

Word Count: 1111

Warnings: N/A

AN: I really should get back into tap dancing, it's been too long.

@om-adventcalendar

You didn’t even need to look at your phone to know what that sound was, Lucifer reminding you dinner would be ready soon and that you needed to get back. Diavolo and Barbatos too knew that sound all too well, the merry making and chatter from before instantly silenced.

“Perhaps you could stay for dinner? Or the night! We have yet to discuss your report on the current exchange program.” The young prince’s smile was already beaming at his own suggestion, his butler nodding in silent approval.

You thought for a moment, ultimately sighing. “We already used that excuse last time, if we keep pushing this he’ll start coming over to pick me up himself or sit in on these things to make sure we ACTUALLY talk about that.”

These visits to the palace had become one of your favorite things upon your return to the Devildom. With how the exchange program was handled the first time you honestly didn’t think Diavolo took it at all seriously but it seemed since then the prince had decided to switch up his strategy, now having you drop by regularly to discuss you. How your time here has been, if there was anything to be improved on, anything demons don’t know about humans that they might need to, like how humans get depressed without sunlight and need special lamps so the eternal night of the Devildom wouldn’t make them miserable. However usually they end up being about ‘you’ as an individual and not ‘you’ humans.

To Diavolo’s disappointment Barbatos already began cleaning away the tea set and tiered biscuit tray.

After thanking them for tea and treats you quickly took your leave, little D no. two by your side to escort you out.

Even putting aside the lovely company these visits were worth it just for the walk. Upon getting through the front gates you rarely ever went through the palace itself, instead the gardens to get to your meeting place that gazebo beside the shimmering lake.

One could so easily get lost in the gardens at times the place more like a forest, or sprawling botanical garden. Dirt and cobblestone paths marked the way, a guide by your side just in case though you had long memorized it by now.

On occasion there was a surprise, like Barbatos off in the distance by the gates, an umbrella hanging off his arm.

“I shall escort you the rest of the way.”

“Oh, okay, thank you?”

The Devildom and the Human world may have many differences but at least one similarity they had was the weather and from what you could tell, it was rather clear out, a little windy but even if it did rain you should have had enough time to reach the House of Lamentation. Little D no. two too seemed confused but quickly scurried away upon understanding their duty was done.

And with that the pair of you left.

It was rather quiet for a Devildom… evening? Despite your time there your mind always wanted to think ‘night’ when referring to any time of ‘day’ in the place.

The distant buzz of city life could be heard but the sound you were focusing on was the tap, tap, tapping of Barbatos’ footfalls against the cobblestone road. Rhythmic and light, simple yet lovely.

They suddenly came to a stop, halting you in your tracks. With a pop the umbrella was opened and held above.

It was sprinkling.

“You didn’t have to get an umbrella for me just for this.”

“No, I did. It wouldn’t do for you to come down with a cold from your visit, the young lord would be so saddened by the thought.”

… What was that in his voice; the slight lit, the hint of playfulness on the tip of his tongue.

“Then I must inform him humans aren’t that fragile… in that respect at least.”

“Truly? Even so, it also wouldn’t do for you to return and be wet, that’d be a failing on my part.”

It was tough to gain a more animated expression from the man beside you, but you could easily see how he studied you, your quirked up brow and the giddy, mischievous smile pulling on your lips.

You took a step back out of the umbrella’s protection.

He took a step forward, a new smile on his face. The butler had many smiles, a neutral one, a polite one, a furious one, and now this new one you couldn’t recall seeing before.

You hopped back.

He hopped forward.

You slid to the side.

He slid to the side.

“Mc”

You could not tell the tone, if he was simply saying your name or questioning your actions.

You shuffled back, on the last step hitting your heel to the ground before kicking your foot up a little.

His foot slid forward before he hopped, landing on the toe of the other. He stood so close, just a hair’s width apart.

Sliding to the side he spun on toe before sliding his other foot out getting in front of you!

A small step, a strike of the toe to the ground before a strike with the heel, then a little hop, your back foot landing on the toe. Your partner did a larger leap, one foot sliding further back, maintaining that little distance.

Perhaps it was simply a reflection of the town’s lights on the shimmering stone but you could swear your partner’s eyes began to sparkle. You couldn’t repress giddy laughter as the pair of you continued to dance along, one always chasing after the other, never too far. The clacking of sole on wet stone, the light tinkle of water against the umbrella, and his quiet chuckle your music.

It was intriguing how his movements so differed from yours, something elegant, purposeful and natural in each of his movements, long strides, yours fast, short, bursts of step meant to tap along.

It was beautiful in his demon form, his tail trailing behind his steps almost like a ribbon. It too danced on occasion, lightly curling around you, making sure your differing styles didn’t accidentally take you too far apart.

Taking your hand you were spun around and taking his he was dragged into hops and heel brushes.

“AHEM!”

Lucifer stood there, arms crossed. “You’re late.”

When had you arrive at Lamentation’s front gate!?

Barbatos placed a hand on his chest, taking a little bow. “Mc thought to teach me a few human dance steps on the way here, it seems I got so absorbed in your lessons. I hope we may continue this soon.”

“O-of course! I’d love to!”

#omadventcalendar #obey me barbatos #barbatos x reader #om barbatos #obey me x reader #obey me x mc #barbatos x mc #obey me fanfic #obey me drabble

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emsgwenstan · 6 months ago

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Why not me?

Larissa Weems x fem reader {angst}

words: idk 2.5k?

warnings: language.

note: ok idek what this is, i haven't written anything in months because of burnout, so really just something i pulled from drafts.

“Don’t.” It was to the point; it was sharp and clear. I picked up my handbag, coat and gloves and evacuated the room as swiftly as possible.

Slamming the door behind me, I could feel its vibration, the loud noise echoing through the halls and corridors, just like every one of my steps down the marble stairs. Frustratedly, I rummage through my bag to find my car keys, desperately needing something to just go my way, I plucked them out and balled the abundance of jagged metal in my fist while storming across the cobblestone to reach my car.

The second I sat in the driver's seat, tears started to roll down my cheeks and my nose started tingling, I shove the keys into the ignition and reverse out of the staff lot before practically doing a burnout when setting off. Where to go now is the question. Where to go indeed. The only home I’ve ever known is nevermore, the safe place I retreat to when the outside world is far too cruel, when normies are unkind and when life gets too much.

Every possible place I think to go isn’t an option, they are all riddled with memories of her, there’s nowhere in the whole of Jericho that I haven’t been with her, the park benches and weathervane after getting hot chocolates on a sunny winters day, the local bookstore on a windy spring morning, the clearing just off the road in the woods on a gloomy autumn afternoon, or the empty fair ground on a cool summers night.

“Oh, you would love her y/n, she very pretty and quite the catch, she flatters me all the time and is very sweet-.” “Don’t.” The conversation plays on a loop, God why? Why wasn’t I enough? The trees reflections whipping across the windscreen seemed to become faster. “Goodness, can you believe she asked me? I haven’t been on a date in years.” She had said. “Help me find something to wear dear?” She asked, and, without question I did.

My grip on the wheel becomes tighter until my knuckles turn white and crescent shapes are imbedded into my palms. Did she not know? Didn’t she realize? Has she not seen the way I look at her? Before I drive myself out of the town ship I stop on the side of the road. I just sit there, I sit and cry for a long time, even as dusk falls and night comes, I sit and cry.

Many cars have passed my own, however none caught my attention until I heard one ripping down the road sounding like it’s going a million miles an hour, when it passed the brake lights almost immediately illuminated my skin and the tires screeched as it stopped, my brows crease in confusion until it reversed back alongside me. Quickly I came to realize who it was. Larissa.

Without second thought I tried turning my car on though it wouldn’t turn over, how bloody convenient. I looked to my side to see her get out and run to my door. “Shit.” I breathed. She reached for the handle and was stunned when she couldn’t open it a dumbfounded expression overtook her pale features. “Open the door.” She pleaded I didn’t look at her, I kept my eyes in front of me still trying to start the engine. “Darling open the door.” She begged, her voice cracking and muffled by the glass.

“Y/n so help me god I will smash this window if you don’t open the damn door.” Her accent became thicker as she yelled. I just wanted her to go away, I rest my temple on the headrest in defeat. For a moment it was quiet- too quiet, that was until I heard her door slam close. I peeled my eyes open and saw her wrapping a cashmere scarf around her wrist, immediately in rage I unlocked my door and stepped out. “What the hell are you doing!?” I seethed. “What am I doing!?” She asked incredulously unwinding the material. “What the hell are you doing!? Where have you been? I called you close to forty times with no answer, I thought you were hurt! I thought something bad happened!”

“Why do you care?” I spat, the bitterness rearing its ugly head. “Why wouldn’t I? You’re my friend, of course I’d care!” There it was friend. Somehow that made it worse- another kick to the guts. “Yeah, ok.” I murmured, twisting around and pulling out my bag, closing the door and storming down the tar road. “Where are you going!?” She shouted. “Away, far away from you!” I bit back.

“Stop!” She growled frustrated and confused. I ignored her request and continued walking. “Y/n!… oh, for fuck's sake.” Her voice died in her throat as she came to the conclusion that I in fact didn’t care for what she had to say. Larissa threw down the scarf and started power walking towards me, her heals clacking hard against the ground, her stride quick and harsh. “Hey-… hey! Christ just stop.” She said exasperatedly reaching my shoulder.

“Don’t fucking touch me!” I shrugged her off ripping out of her grasp. “Take the hint! Larissa, I’ve made it clear enough that I don’t want to be near you!” I yelled whipping around to face her. “What have I done? What is going on? You don’t do this- you don’t pull this kind of childish behavior; I expect this from a student not you of all people.” She reacted. “Thanks, truly.” I sarcastically remarked and resumed walking.

“Fine I’ll just follow you then.” She said as if she was one upping me. “Piss off.” I said starting to walk faster. “Tell me what is going on! Please.” She asked her voice a little calmer and more desperate. I once again ignored her. “Y/n. I’m not going to stop until you tell me what has gotten into you.” She said starting to slightly limp from the ache in her feet. “What has gotten into me?… what has gotten into me?” I stopped abruptly.

I spin on the spot facing her again throwing down my bag in the middle of the road. “You.” I said creeping towards her with my finger pointed towards her chest. “You have gotten into me!” I yelled. “Me?” She asked, her brows furrowing and voice shaking. “Yes you! Day in day out, I’m sick of it!” Larissa’s posture straitened and head slightly dropped to the side in question. “Can you elaborate?” She said her eyes flicking about showing her confusion.

“It would be my pleasure. Let’s start shall we. “I’m not sure where I’m going wrong, I just wish someone would want me.” Or “I’m not good enough.” Or “y/n, why doesn’t anyone fancy me? Is it because of this or that'…or some bullshit reason.” I started, quoting just a few things from her. “What? Are you annoyed now that I actually have someone who could potentially be interested In me?” She asked furiously.

“No, I’m annoyed because of how ridiculous it is.” I retorted. “Ridiculous?” She growled through clenched teeth. “Yes. Ridiculous. How many times was I there to say those things aren’t true? How many times have I reassured and helped you? How many nights did I spend being by your side trying to make you happy!?” I asked. “What are you getting at!?” She asked, her eyes wide and lips twisted. “Months… years actually! Listening to you talk absolute garbage about yourself and continuing to do so after me telling you I’m here! - and, and now… you’re settling? for some waitress who thinks you’re pretty?” I explained looking directly in her eyes.

Larissa recoiled and looked as if she had been slapped. “Tell me how you really feel.” She murmured crossing her arms over her chest. “Jesus Christ, get a grip! Are you that thick!? I’ve been tryi-” I began. “Don’t even start, what about you! As far as I’m concerned you don’t have a great track record in relationships!” She yelled, her anger taking over once again. “Just fucking listen!” I screamed, rendering her completely silent.

When I realized she had bit her tongue and no longer wanted to argue, I started to speak again in a more relaxed tone. “I haven’t spoken, been with or even looked at anyone else. I’ve said nothing, but I’ve tried in many ways to show you, to tell you… every single time you have had a problem, a bad day, needed help, needed comfort, who’s been there? Me. I have. I know you better than anyone and I’m telling you that, that woman isn’t for you.” I stated.

“Right. So, your jealous that you're not the one who’s getting the chance with her, is that what you're saying? Because I thought you would be happy for me, out of all people y/n.” She said quickly and bitterly. “No that’s not-” I try. “I’ve heard enough, you want to be left alone fine, go ahead.” She said rolling her eyes and turning around to walk back to her car. “Larissa.” It’s her turn to ignore me. Before she got too far, I reached for her wrist without thinking and stopped her.

“I am.” I said quietly, pulling her to turn back toward me. “Your what?” She asked back. “Jealous.” I express timidly, looking away from her but keeping the firm grip. “But not of you… of her… I’m jealous of her.” I said just above a whisper. I look back up, my gaze trailing from her shins to the hem of her dress, to the waist belt of her grey coat, to her neck, lips and face, her very confused face.

“I’ve tried to tell you… I’ve tried everything apart from actually saying it.” I said loosening the grip on her wrist. “Do you have any idea how hard it was? How hard it is to listen to you talk about someone else making you happy? Someone else who can see the side of you I’ve only ever wished to be privileged to see?” Larissa’s face dropped; her angered expression melted away as I continued.

“What?” She asked, her voice barely above a whisper. “I’m sorry.” I said in the same level of tone, goosebumps forming over my body as a shiver made its way down my spine, right there I knew I ruined everything. I close my eyes and let go of her wrist, I could hear her take a step, but it wasn’t back towards her car, it was to me, my eyes snap open as I feel her entire body engulf mine, in all the years of our friendship we’ve never hugged like that. Not once.

Together we stood planted in the middle of the road not daring to move an inch, it felt like it lasted a lifetime but in reality, it was only a few moments. My head and my heart were reeling, so many emotions, so many feelings, so many memories, so many 'what ifs'. “Larissa.” I said into her chest. “I know.” Was the reply. “Let me say it.” I murmured, Larissa’s chest heaved and contracted deeply, she guided one of her hands to rest on my temple and forehead moving the fallen hair in front of my eyes. “Look at me… please.” She asked pulling back just a little.

I lifted my gaze to her eyes and held the lapels of her coat, smoothing them and giving myself time to breathe. “I…” I swallowed. “I, love you.” I said quietly, tears threatening to spill from my eyes. “I have for so long.” I breathed, finally after God knows how long I finally said it, although my relief was short lived when I saw Larissa face slowly revert back to one of distain.

“This isn’t fair.” She said pulling away and taking a step back her brows furrowing and unable to look me in the eye. “What?” I asked in disbelief. “I-… I liked you for a long while y/n, but now you choose to tell me?” It took every inch of me to not cry immediately. "What are you saying?" I asked dumbfounded, feeling bile build up in my throat. Completely taken aback, I recoiled and was in such a state of disbelief that I turned around in utter shock, plucked my bag from the ground and resumed trekking down the road.

The whole world felt like water filled the atmosphere and I was drowning, my limbs felt heavy and the cold seeped into my bones, I heard her muffled voice call out to me, but it was far too late, the second I looked up a pair of headlights were set right towards me...

#larissa weems #principle weems #gwenchrist(ie)#larissa weems x y/n #larissa x reader #gwendoline christie #wlw fanfic #larissa weems x reader

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the-californicationist · 8 days ago

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Brisance (2/2)

Chapter 01 // Chapter 02

TW: smut, bombs, a random line about boot-worship (?)

Johnny stayed glued to the SAT-NAV screen, tracking his pretty little bombmaker’s every move. She was spending a lot of time on the outskirts of the Kotov bloc, and although none of his scouts had confirmed with a visual, he knew it was a matter of time before they discovered her safehouse. When she eventually found the tracker, the signal went dead, but the damage was done. She’d shown Johnny enough evidence for him to narrow down her base of operations.

So, in the middle of the night, without clearance, he cut out of camp and took one of the TAC-V trucks over to the site. He pulled out all of his stealthiest moves, trying to avoid detection. He was patient, watching for movement, staying hidden in the shadows, waiting for her.

The snow crunched under his weight, so he slid in tiny steps toward a window in the side of what he thought was her base. It was a run-down lighthouse on the edge of the Urzikstani border with the Mediterranean Sea. There were no resources out here, and it was too small for any of Makarov’s men to use it as a fully-operational base camp, so it was almost completely forgotten. There had even been a dirt road leading to the lighthouse in the past – Johnny could see the old tire marks – but now, it was dark, windy, and uninviting.

The sergeant peeked his head up over the window sill to peer inside.

He could see her clearly through the open doorway of the adjacent room, her side profile backlit by a small fire she had going in the middle of the den, bent over her hands, tinkering with some wires. Unfortunately, there were only two ways inside of the building. The base only had one door, but the top of the structure had a hatch that would lead down to the main level.

Johnny had made it this far, and he wasn’t leaving without some answers. So, he strung up his rope and hook to make a climbing lead. With a little skill, he was able to latch the anchor to one of the railings, and he prayed that it would hold. Then, he began the long walk up the side of the tower, feeling every bit like Gallahad, even if the woman locked inside was no wilting damsel in distress.

He was breathless and sweaty by the time he made it to the top of the tower, hoisting himself up onto the rusted iron walkway as quietly as he could. Just as he was about to stand up, he heard the tell-tale click of a gun being cocked, and he froze in place, stuck staring into the sea and the wash of stars that glittered above it, his back to the light and the hatch.

It was silent for a long time, almost too long. Johnny moved to turn his shoulders, but the cold metal of her gun barrel against the nape of his neck stopped him in his tracks.

“Don’t…” She whispered.

Even though she didn’t say anything more, he could hear the raw, painful emotion in her voice, her tone revealing her vulnerability.

“Lass, I wasnae g–”

“I should kill you!” She snarled, shoving the gun into his skin even harder, “Why did you come here? I can’t… I won’t let you ruin this for me. Not when I’m so close.”

“Alright, lass. You’re right. Kill me, then,” he said, his voice as serious as the grave he was angling for, and he turned to face her. As he moved, the gunbarrel dragged along the sensitive skin of his neck, leaving behind a red scrape like a lover’s hickey, evidence of her touch.

For a moment, he thought she would follow through. Her eyes flashed hot and full of anger, she moved the barrel up and under his chin, forcing him to lift his eyes back to the stars, gazing up at Heaven before she delivered him to it. She gritted her teeth, her face twisted with rage, but as he peered back down at her, she was still as pretty as ever, looking like Athena at war, like a valkyrie on the vast battlefield, like Justice herself, wild and vengeful.

And yet, she didn’t pull the trigger. When his warm hand slowly closed over her cold, trembling one as she clutched the pistol, she didn’t kill him like she said she would. She tried so hard to hold onto that anger, but she couldn’t do it. For whatever reason, she let him live. Johnny didn’t take the gun from her, but he moved it down, freeing his jaw from the bite of the metal. Then, she whispered,

“I can’t stop.”

“I’m didnae ask you to stop, bonnie,” Johnny took a chance and reached up to touch her cheek, trying to comfort her through what was an unimaginable sort of pain. If Makarov had killed his sisters… “We’ll get that bastard, but you cannae do it alone, hen. Let me help you. Please.”

Her eyes peered deep into his, and within them, a darkness grew and grew, threatening to overtake her like a demon. She grabbed Johnny by his vest and yanked him even closer, her voice barely audible when she hissed,

“I need him to know it was me. I want to be the last thing he sees. For Sorcha.”

“I dinnae care how he dies, lass, but if you do,” Johnny nodded, “Then, let’s craft a wee plan. Perhaps not here on this fuckin’ balcony, but…”

That earned him at least the suggestion of a smile, and her gaze softened as she led him down the hatch and into the spiraling staircase of her lighthouse. Once inside, she reached up to latch the lock, and due to the lack of space, she had to press her chest in to his, arching her body over him and spreading her warmth through his clothes.

His breath caught in his throat, and when she heard him, she paused, looking into his face to see how he was reacting. She turned to him, examining him like a curator examines a canvas, looking at him up close to see every little brushstroke. Johnny could feel her breath on his neck, and he had to hold back a rumbling moan.

As she lowered herself down, she did so in a slow, dragging descent, rubbing herself down his chest and belly, testing his resolve. His face was twisted in a grimace, and when her thigh made brief contact with his, she knew why.

He knew that she could feel his hardon through his canvas trousers, and when she raised her eyebrows in surprise, there was nowhere for him to run. So, he shrugged, explaining himself in a low, deep tone,

“You look fuckin’ bonnie with a gun in your hand.”

His pretty bombmaker took the compliment, and she breathed with him for a moment. Then, he felt her hand slide around his waist to the front of his crotch, her palm pressed to his straining zipper, massaging the length of him as he stretched down his pant leg.

“I bet I look even better with you in my hand, huh, soldier?”

Soap grunted and lunged forward, catching her wrist to stop her from reaching his sensitive head, but she didn’t pull away. Instead, she chuckled, bending to kiss his neck, and she squeezed the fat, lolling body of his prick as tightly as she could. He hissed, trying to back away from her, but she ripped her hand from his grasp and rushed down the stairs away from him, a wild look in her eyes.

“Hey! Wait,” Johnny called after her, trying to command his tingling legs to pursue.

He caught her about mid-way down the spiral, and they lost their balance, crashing into each other against the chipping, plaster wall. Johnny sealed his mouth to hers like she was his air, sucking on her lips like she was his sustenance. She was all over him. It felt like she had a thousand hands, all of them pushing and pulling and rubbing and pawing at his skin.

Eventually, Johnny managed to position himself below her in the steps, blocking her escape. They broke their kiss when they found their footing, and she stared into his eyes, that same fire repeated within them but instead of anger, she was fueled by hot lust.

He watched her, waiting on a cue. She took one step back, raising herself taller than him. Then, another. Now, his face was at her breasts, and she began to unbutton her shirt for him. He let her go at her own pace, one hand on her hip and the other crushing the life out of his cock so that he wouldn’t finish before he started.

As soon as her pretty tits were exposed, Johnny used both of his hands to rake down her bra until it snapped awkwardly around her belly, and her nipples were revealed to the cool air, tightening from the excitement and the rush. He put his mouth to one of them, suckling sweetly at first before locking eyes with her and biting down hard enough to sting. She cried out, but her hands were locked in his mohawk, fist over fist, tugging him closer, encouraging him to continue.

Johnny moved to the other one, treating it better than the first, sucking in deep, long rounds of pressure, laving at her peak with his tongue. Then, suddenly, while he was lost in her, she took another step up. Now, his mouth was at her belly button. He gave it the same attention, teasing her with his mouth, kissing and sucking and licking and biting until she squirmed and squealed from the strangeness of his pressure.

She took one more step, and Johnny was staring at the button fly of her trousers. He peeled apart the canvas, popping each button out of its hole. Each fallen button gave way to the soft pale blue cotton of her panties, covering her puffy mons. With the last button gone, Johnny wasted little time, using his hand to pull her panties down and over her sex, putting her on full display right in front of his face.

Her scent filled his nose. She was wet, and her musk was warm and heady in the air between his mouth and her body. Johnny took a moment to admire her untrimmed curls, thick and soft as they lay against her swollen flesh. He ran his fingers over the top of her, petting the hair in a downward stroke, feeling it all the way until he reached her lips, over and over, forcing blood to rush to meet his hand with a trembling joy.

Then, when he heard her sigh, he dipped one finger into the sweet honey that she had made for him, feeling the small pool of its warmth trapped behind her pubic hair, matting it down and hiding it from the cold air of the lighthouse. His mouth was on her then, and she gasped from the feeling. Her hands were back in his scalp, grabbing and scratching him, too wound up to say a word, but needing to tell him to continue his efforts.

He licked her from her wet, slipping seam all the way up to her belly button in long, rushed licks, attacking her with the softest parts of his mouth, dragging his lips over her like they would paint her skin. Then, he rooted between her folds, pressing until he could feel the turgid rod of her clit, and he began to suck, bobbing his head against her as if it had been a drooling phallus, letting her fuck his mouth with her only rigidity. She hooked her leg over his shoulder and began to grind against his jaw, moving her hips into him in mindless, undulating circles, whimpering and keening in a steady, guttural rhythm.

Johnny moved his fingers beneath her pussy lips, amazed by her warmth, and twisted his palm into her jeans, stretching her fly wider to accommodate his huge hand. It was a rough shove of fabric and flesh, but eventually, his fingertips found her eager hole and began to delve inside, prodding against her strong walls. When he was deep enough to find the spot that changed the timbre of her cries, he returned to suck at her clit, swirling his tongue through her to make sure he found every last drop.

“John…” She gasped.

His name on her lips may as well have been a blinding flare for how quickly his eyes darted to hers, answering her call from between her legs. When he saw her face, he knew she was about to come for him, her expression frozen in an unfinished scream, her body trembling, the thigh looped around his shoulder squeezing to make sure he didn’t escape from his position.

Johnny was lucky enough to feel her orgasm from the inside as well, her cunt clutching his fingers, holding him within her like a greedy little beast, hungry for whatever he would give her. The taste of her slick made him break out into a sweat, his own muscles shuddering from the excitement and the need.

As she came down from her high, he let her go, slipping out of her gently, moving to stand. But, her boot heel stopped him in his tracks, pressing down on his shoulder to keep him on his knees. He cut his eyes at her, shocked by her challenge.

She was fondling her breasts in both of her hands, smiling with visceral contentment, enjoying how he was trapped below her, smiling at him like she definitely had his number.

“Wee demon,” Johnny chuckled, moving his mouth to the ankle of her boot, his lips crawling over the oiled leather like it was her pussy, smearing his spit and her slick all over the shoe.

She gasped like it pleased her, so he continued, making his way up and over the boot until he came to her calf, scrunching up her pants so he could kiss her skin underneath, licking and sucking on her leg as roguishly as he would her tits. One of her hands found his scalp again and pet him gingerly, rewarding his dogmatic commitment to her pleasure.

Suddenly, Johnny surged up the stairs, looping both of her legs over his arms and taking her with him, pinning her between his body and the inner wall of the staircase.

“Fuck!” She grunted. The air rushed out of her lungs, and she tried to get it back.

While she was stunned, Johnny raked down her trousers just far enough to give himself access, and he began to smear his cockhead against her folds.

“Suppose you’re used to gettin’ your way, bonnie.”

Her wide eyes were her response, and the slow grind of her hips told him he would be rewarded for this, too.

“I willnae take what isnae mine to have…” He whispered into her open mouth, breathing nearly as hard as she was.

While she was thinking about his words, both of them were rocking their bodies together, dancing to a silent song stuck in their heads. She smiled at him, and he caught the sinister tone in her voice just a moment too late.

“You can have me,” she showed him a little roll of paper that she had clutched in her fist, dug out of some pocket, crumpled and white like a cloud, “If you can catch me.”

The hiss of a lit match caught his attention, shoving his mind back into a semi-alert state. When the fire from her fingers touched the flash paper, it burned like dragon’s breath, spitting and raging. She’d put a little gunpowder in the roll, and the searing wrath of it startled Soap back away from the wall. He dropped her, but she landed in a crouch, and through the smoke, she shoved her way down the stairs and out of his sight.

“Cheeky hen,” he laughed, waving the smoke out of his face and turning to race down the steps after her.

There was a door on the second landing, and he burst through it expecting to find her there with a sly grin, but it was just a storage room. Boxes and boxes of equipment, but not her. He raced down the stairs to the main level and went into hunting mode. He crouched behind the countertop of her makeshift kitchenette, scanning the floor for her boots. As silent as a breath, Johnny slithered his way through the galley, keeping his eyes peeled for movement, trying to ignore his raging length pressing against his fly.

There were two doors on the east side of the room, one led outside, but the other led to an inner chamber. The inner door was slightly ajar although the room was pitch black. Johnny slowly stepped toward it, shouldering it open as quietly as he could. When his eyes adjusted to the low light of the room, he saw what awaited him.

His gorgeous little demolitionist was laying atop a huge metal crate made of tightly looped chain link, low and wide like a grand sarcophagus. Inside of the crate, green lights blinked intermittently, each one on its own independent pace, twinkling like stars. She was fully nude, her clothing discarded behind her, stretched out over the metal box, touching herself and moving her body like an invitation.

“You caught me, soldier,” she purred, rolling another spool of flash paper in her fingers.

“Aye,” Johnny whispered, his hand reaching out for her ankle, pulling her leg up to his mouth to kiss the protruding bone, “But, what is this, lass?”

“A gift,” she sighed, pulling Johnny onto the crate with her, listening to the creaking metal complain about his weight.

Johnny kissed her, slotting himself between her legs and pressing his cock on top of her mons like a promise,

“For who, bonnie?”

He asked the question like he already knew the answer, but she told him anyway,

“Vladimir Makarov.”

Johnny’s cock was already jerking to be stuffed inside of her, but he ignored it. He could only hear the blood slamming against his ears, rushing through every vein and blazing into his belly.

They were laying on a giant bomb.

She hooked her legs around his waist and flipped him over, slamming him onto the crate flat on his back.

“Steamin’ Jesus!” Johnny looked below him at the blinking lights, praying that his presence hadn’t disturbed one of the punks or starter coils, “We cannae ju–”

Her hand coiled around his neck, and she applied just enough pressure to stop his words. Johnny let her do it, and his body seemed to take some sort of sick thrill in his compliance, his cock lunging for her as she straddled him.

She sat up tall, her knees digging into the metal loops of the crate, her pussy rubbing back and forth along the heavy meat of his prick, and her free hand pinching the soft flesh of her breast, hurting herself more than she was hurting him. Her eyes gleamed with mischief,

“Careful, soldier. Better stay very… very still… I’ll keep you safe, baby.”

Then, she released his throat and slid his cock inside of her hole, her aim true and sure, swallowing him up inside of her core in one smooth drop. Then, she began to grind against him, using his rigid tip to press into her pillowy g-spot, forcing him to feel the heartbreaking texture of her walls, drowning him in her orgasm-seeking revelry.

“Bonnie,” Soap panted, trying to stay focused lest he lose himself to her magic, “I cannae do this. I… fuck… I cannae stay steady.”

“Shh,” she cooed at him, taking her time as she slowly stuffed all four of her fingers into his mouth, holding onto his bottom jaw to silence him, “You’re the one who wanted to join me, Mr. MacTavish. Now, hold still, or I’ll have to introduce you to my sister.”

Her grinding continued, luscious and sticky, the wet sounds of her cunt loud in the stone-walled room. Johnny tried to look away, tried to concentrate on the fifty-some kilos of Semtex below his arse, but he couldn’t. Not even a bomb could pull his mind from the view of his lover’s plump little body, round and soft and full and warm, all of her curves and edges trembling as she thrust him inside of her, fucking herself with his rod, taking her time with him.

Johnny could only see her, could only stare at the glistening jewel of her pussy, giving her his thick fingers to rub against, addicted to the noise she made that came from deep inside her chest when he hit the spot she liked. He was almost ashamed at some of the sounds that were emanating from his own mouth. It was all he could do to keep from bucking himself up into her like some wild stag, blind with his rut and horny to the point of self-harm. So, if he couldn’t move, his body released that energy through his lungs, and he was moaning like her paid whore.

Between all of her sweet, sing-song yeses and oh-my-gods, he was grunting and hollering like he’d been stuck with a knife, the aura of his climax threatening him with every exhale, her pussy pulling his pleasure from him like a water from a well, dipping him in, milking him out, soaking him inside of her.

“How…” Johnny looked up at her with pleading eyes, “How will I come, bonnie? I cannae help tae move in you. I cannae… Oh, Holy Christ!”

All at once, Johnny grabbed her by the hips and lifted her up, following her with his own, pounding into her as his shoulders tried to stay pinned to the box, pushing down into the crate with all his might as his cock pistoned inside of her, humping her hard enough to leave stinging welts across her thick arse, pumping her full of his come.

She was above him, riding him like a bull, screaming for him, basking in his affections, free like a bird with her arms outstretched in rapture. For a moment, Johnny thought the worst had come over them. He came so hard that his vision flashed, and he imagined her bomb vibrating to life, consuming them both in its predetermined fury, taking him, her, and this godforsaken lighthouse with it. All for naught.

Yet, as he came to, he felt the cold chill of the crate against his skin and knew that he was alive. Only a petite mort had befallen him. His skin was electric, buzzing at every point that she touched as she rubbed his body with her body, letting him lower her back down as gently as he could.

“Mmm,” she groaned with satisfaction, “Who knew switching sides would be so rewarding?”

“Gonnae have to do somethin’ about that wee death wish you’ve got, lass. Made me come so hard, I thought I’d have to see Peter at the gates with my bloody trousers around my ankles,” Johnny sat up with her still in his arms and slid off of the crate, holding her and looking at her like she had gone completely mad.

She looped her arms and legs around him and threw her head back in laughter,

“Blasting pin isn’t even set, soldier. I can’t bel–”

Before she could finish her sentence, Johnny’s mouth slanted over hers, kissing her as deeply as he could, feeding his tongue into her throat, his movements desperate and full of heat.

“Shouldnae’ve told me that, hen,” he threatened her as he pulled away for a moment, his eyes darkening, “‘Cause now, you’re mine, and I’ll have you how I like.”

idek yall lol sorry

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