#shitpost but more shower thoughts | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

1920sladydectective · 20 days ago

Text

Best Friend's Mother Ch.3 6.8K

This is part three of the story inspired by @shinyshayminflower

It was gonna be the final part, but it's looking like there's at least another chapter or two to come

Angsty, Sad, just loads of stuff. Tiny bit of Smut MDNI 18+

Link to the whole fic on AO3 here lovelies, or you can scroll down my acc to find it here

Thank you @uselessbard1031 for being the best story sounding board

HERE WE GOOOOOOOOOO

The cold light of day revealed more than you could stomach.

You hated yourself, hated her, hated everything you had ever stood for and accepted and wanted in that stupid house.

Mel’s film came back a few days after you’d settled back into your flat, the Kodak Gold showing the pathetic rose tinted glasses that covered you for July and August. It was picturesque, toes in sand and melting Mr Whippys. Smooshed faces and a pissed off Mina. She showed them off, with a happy voice and gesticulating hands. It felt sort of like she was trying to cheer you up.

You’d been in a ‘funk’ since you got back and it was being chalked up to your immediately heavy workload.

That was it. Too much reading, four new essays and some new bullshit about work experience. Not the crushing void in your heart, not the breakup that was barely there, that existed for you and you alone.

Ambessa Medarda was a black hole, alluring in her violence, beautiful in her consumption and you were mere space dust. That she had made abundantly clear.

It kept you up at night, embarrassment curdled in you like milk. Body in tatters trying to keep your mind in check.

I’ll ring you when I’m back

Whyever would you need to do that

You fucking idiot.

Her stupid, soft pyjamas kept her grip on you, your phone’s fancy screen shining like her eyes. She was everywhere and you couldn’t tell anyone.

You were the living dead, cursed to be unloved and used forever. You never thought of yourself as dramatic before, preferring humour and dismissiveness, but the gaping wound in you cried for attention. Cried to be acknowledged and picked at, a scar in the making, as each little flicker of healing was ripped off again and again.

Six weeks later you still felt like a lovesick puppy. University and your job made time sparse and relaxation sparser still, but somehow the sadness lingered. You’d been grieving it for nearly as long as it had happened, some weird crossroads where it felt inappropriate to be sad. It was a summer fling, how many had existed since the dawn of time and yet it dug into you like an elusive splinter.

Mel was another issue entirely. Warm and tender, trying to prop you up when you stopped eating or didn’t keep up with the laundry. Part of you wanted to scream and cry. I’m not who you think I am, your mind shouted, I’m awful and you should hate me like I hate myself.

Then you’d eat a sausage roll, she’d send you a shitpost and you’d cry in the shower. Selfish as it was, you couldn’t lose both Medardas.

Sometimes you thought you saw her name pop up on your phone, you’d look each time like a baby falling for a game of peekaboo. Nothing. The last message made your lungs tense every single time.

Bacon Crunchy or No?

Crunchy, but still soft.

Demanding x

That breakfast in bed was the most revisited memory, probably spurred on by how many times you’d read those texts. You wouldn’t eat bacon anymore, flicked it out of your meal deal BLT before realising how counterproductive you’d made your sandwich. Wet mayonnaise and lettuce with half a tomato slice. What a sad life. Your cheeks were damp again and it was hard to breathe.

At some point enough was enough. You were a twenty three year old mooning over a woman over twenty five years your senior. You had a life, you had friends and a dad who called you sometimes. She was not the sun, you did not revolve around her.

That lasted for about a week, until Mel mentioned going back briefly for her Mum’s birthday. November 9th. You hadn’t known that, wished you still didn’t. Somehow you were in a shopping centre helping her search for a gift. Budget was extensive and so was Mel’s ability to shop.

What would be a good gift for Ambessa? Rat poison perhaps?

You saw it or maybe it saw you. Gold, each chain link tiny, making it look almost like falling sunlight. One large crimson ruby hung at the end, metal criss crossing over it in a pretty setting. It would fit almost every outfit she wore. It matched her favourite earrings. It was unique, like her and she didn’t deserve it.

“That seems perfect,” Your voice croaked, pointing towards the glass cabinet.

Mel agreed because well, it just was. You lived, slowly and painfully, Rowan Atkinson’s scene from Love Actually. This was your punishment, your karma for your indecisiveness and deceit. Leaving Selfridges (dissociated and bankrupt from a bagel) you allowed yourself to be talked at. That seemed to be happening a lot these days, more sounding board and less person. That seemed to be what you’d lost, your personness, stuck in silk sheets in Surrey. There was no recon mission to be had either, the invitation for birthday celebrations blissfully, brutally not extended to you.

You heard all about it though, obviously. You weren’t that lucky. Mel and Kino had organised a party, she had pretended to be ever so surprised and you had received fourteen drunk videos at three am. The house was different to how you’d ever seen it, twinkling lights and darker furnishings to herald the stormy winter approaching. Kino was doing the CanCan, offscreen choked laughter making your heart hurt. Each video devolved to make less sense, snapshots of the living room, pretty decoration and discarded champagne. The last one made your world spin, bile eating your throat.

It was Ambessa, glassy eyed with shimmering makeup and bouncy curls, grinning at the camera with a cupcake in hand. Sitting pretty, as perfect as you’d imagined, was the necklace.

“How’s your party been, Mum?” Mel’s hiccupped voice.

“Perfect, Darling,” Ambessa muttered, an easy smile growing.

“And your gift?”

“Also perfect, Little wolf,” Her fingers stroked it instinctively, feeling along the ruby.

“Say thank you to the camera then,” Mel says, impatient and swaying slightly, “She’s the one who helped me find it,”

The shift was slight, you only noticed because you were looking, her face draining of some joy.

Tone coy and light she stared directly at the screen, “Ah I see, when you said one of your friends, I didn’t realise you meant her! Who knew she knew me so well?” a criminally long pause, “Thank you, Sweet Girl,”

The footage stopped, her smirk immortalised.

You hated her. Vile, vindictive little bitch. You burned all but one of your pyjamas sets in the garden, mesmerised by the flames as if their heat could cleanse you. Charred linen smelt like shit and you dumped it in the bin before it became a problem for the neighbours. Lip chewed raw, you curled onto the dining chair you had occupied half an hour ago, looking down at your traitorous phone

Your text response was calmer after that.

Nice, cute party! Drink some water babe xox

I kissed Jayce

Oh?

And Viktor

Can you call?

It’s 4am Mel.

Yes

The shrill thrum of Facetime rang throughout your kitchen, ear twitching slightly as you answered.

“Thank fuck,” Mel sounded both stressed and excited, “This party has been so weird I wish you were here,”

You didn’t. “Weird cause you tongued your two closest friends? Or weird some other way?”

“Don’t say tongued it’s vile,” She was clearly stumbling down the corridor to her bedroom, “And both, I guess? It’s a long story”

“Babble away then, babe,” You’d missed this, missed her.

It actually wasn’t that long at all, content wise, Mel was just so drunk she restarted five thousand times. Jayce and Viktor were together, this you knew. Mel would sometimes kiss them both, occasionally more, and she didn’t know what to feel; this was new. Having a conversation about emotional intimacy versus physical with her when she was drunk and your last fuck had been her mother was like a stupid game of Monoply. It took forever, not much was accomplished and she ended up falling asleep just as you were getting to the good bit.

“Mum’s also been weird,” It was slurred, hair spraying on the pillow, “Nostalgic or something,”

“Nostalgic?” You didn’t want to talk about her, you didn’t.

“I dunno, think she missed me and Kino,” She coughed, “She’s been more quiet,”

Quiet. Of course. She didn’t seem quiet when she threw your pet name in your face, but hey what did you know? Follow up questions were useless, Mel’s snores crackling through the phone.

“Are you sleeping, Little wolf?”

You were going to throw up, twitching hands launching your phone across the table. Mel’s phone echoed the crashing, drawing Ambessa’s attention. Picking the phone from her daughter’s fingers, she raised a quizzical and then uncertain brow.

“Night Mel,” You whispered, slamming the end call button. The last noise from her end was that voice calling out your name.

You didn’t sleep, your only remaining pair of pyjamas mocking you from the laundry basket.

It washed over you like the tides, again and again, each time inching closer to consuming you. So much energy had been expended to move past this, but you crumbled like a stale biscuit in the face of her teasing, of your name from her mouth. Even now your heart skipped, ached, sang. It wasn’t real, the adoration and attraction she had looked at you with. How could you grapple with that? Alone and surrounded by all the kindness she had gifted you. There was a doubt, tart and strong, in your mind that you would ever matter to anyone ever again. Your clanking alarm clock seemed to agree, burrowing into your fitful dreams and warping to the sound of her laugh.

Mel came back, hungover and a little emotionally unstable which seemed to happen every time she went home. You had tacos on the sofa, sharing a beer and having the same conversation as before, though sober this time. You steered clear of her, focusing on Mel with an intensity that made the girl snort.

“Back to planet earth then?”

“What?” Lettuce tumbled out, they’d given you a hard shell by accident.

“I mean this is probably the most you’ve spoken to me since the summer,”

A flinch, body rejecting the truth, as your lips turned down.

“I get it, work and stuff,” Mel quickly added, stroking your arm like she would Mina, “Just missed you,”

“Missed you too,” It choked out, despite your efforts to stay calm, flinging yourself against her and squeezing.

Fuck Ambessa. It settled in you, a certainty fuelled by the intense turmoil of the past twenty four hours. You loved Mel and you would not be a shit friend anymore.

Days were lighter after that, your acceptance shifting the colours of your world slightly. Your fancy laptop was a blessing, not a collar, helping you write your thesis without trouble. The coffee shop could have been worse, it was in a beautiful building with a rich history and it meant you could eat branded beans instead of 26p sludge. You’d even managed to save some money for Christmas. You were rising from the ashes of unrequited love, becoming a true optimist. Maybe you might start liking yourself soon.

Then your dad called.

“Hey, Peanut,” His gravelly tone was easily decipherable. He was about to disappoint you, again.

“Hi Dad,” You settled in the armchair, chest deflating, “Everything okay?”

“I’ve got some news,” a rattled sigh, “I’m gonna need to stay on till January,”

Rough hands ran over your face, “Of course,”

“I’m sorry kid but with the mortgage and-”

“I know, I understand,”

“Maybe you could go back to that friend’s house?” He said hopefully, “You had such a good time,”

Not fucking likely. If you told Mel that’s exactly what she’d suggest, so this one was staying quiet, you weren’t that healed. “It’s alright, I think I’d like to be at home, see some familiar faces, could always have dinner with the cousins,”

“Yeah,” He sniffed, “Yeah okay love,”

“I love you, I guess I’ll see you in the new year?”

“Of course, and I’ll ring you in the holidays,” He was firm in his intentions, even if it wouldn’t stick, “Love you,”

Christmas alone. Lucky you.

It took more effort than you’d anticipated to censor the news around Mel. Part of you, small and desperate, wanted to fall into her and cry about it but then you would end up sniffling, sitting in her car on the way to that damned house. The last few weeks of term flew by, deadlines and Christmas parties numbing you out, pushing you into a glitzy, overwhelmed state. Mel was in her element, glittering gold as she wrapped a mountain of gifts, covered all of your kitchen surfaces in icing sugar and screamed George Michael. She was supposed to leave before you, giving you three days of peace in the house before you ended up in rural Derbyshire with nobody but the deer to talk to.

About an hour before Mel was due to leave you received a phone call from your father and it affirmed for you that the universe, in all its cosmic wonders, had it out for you.

Your terraced house had a very complex and old heating system, which had apparently died a sudden and dramatic death. Sure, whatever, no problem. Except a new one was going to cost at least ten thousand pounds and couldn’t be installed until January anyway. The neighbours had told him about the sudden flooding, and he had tried to deal with it faster, but being so far away and with so little immediate funds.

“So it’s fucked,” You groan, “I guess I’ll have to stay here then,”

“I-” Your dad sounded shattered, “We might have to looking at selling, I haven’t got the cash to fix it,”

“I’ll figure that out Dad,” Tight throat, air raspy, “It’s okay, thanks for calling,”

“What’s fucked?” Mel said, appearing like a ghost, your shoulders jolting.

“Eavesdropper,” It was a grumble, “It’s nothing,”

“It’s clearly not if you’re looking at staying here,”

Your eyes rolled, frustration bubbling,“House’s heating broke, can’t be fixed till January so I’ll stay here,”

Mel looked crestfallen, “Oh no,” She embraced you, the hug more loving than you deserved, “What’s your dad going to do? Come up here? He can have my room obviously,”

“Why would he need that?” You snorted, “He’s staying on the rig for Christmas-” Uh. Oops.

Brown eyes flared with anger, “What? You didn’t tell me that!”

“I-I” You were at a loss, desperate to avoid what was obviously hurtling your way, “I didn’t wanna be a downer on all the cool plans, I was just gonna relax alone or whatever,” Lame excuse, loser.

“You’re coming to ours,” Mel said, decided, waving away all of your protests like one would swat a fly. Somehow she was already calling her mother, telling her to expect another guest for Christmas. The stress of heating was the final straw on a decrepit, twitching camel.

Had you died? Were you in Hell?

That’s what the Land Rover felt like, speeding through endless countryside as she sang Christmas Wrapping for the ninth time. You felt almost outside your body, about to reunite with a part of yourself you’d allowed to die. Mel had chewed you out for the first hour of the journey about being an idiot, about upsetting her by not just asking to stay. I know it was awesome in the summer, she had whined, you’re not like a burden or anything.

Rolling up the driveway felt like that moment on a rollercoaster just before the adrenaline floods you. Your stomach turns, you feel the wind and feel how high up you are, seeking an out you know isn’t there. Then the ride drops, hurtles down the track and you’re too overwhelmed to think much of anything at all. Ambessa standing, cashmere jumper and longer curls, against the door waiting to greet you both was your drop. Blank, hot nothingness.

“Darlings,” She cried, lips as crimson as ever.

She stepped forward, throwing her arms around both of you and you thought you might die. You hated her. Her smirk showed she could tell, though it wasn’t as firmly fixed as usual. Sunrays, squinting eyes and that smirk as she ate a slice of watermelon. Shut Up.

A small dinner was already ready, a weathered looking Kino dishing up portions. His greeting was warm but distracted.

“Mum’s had me hauling all the trees into place,” He grumbled, passing you a bowl of stew, “because of course it couldn’t wait until the precious princesses arrived to help,”

Gods you’d missed him. “You think I’m a princess Kino? I’m touched,”

Mel forced you into your chair, snorting at her brother, “Would you believe this idiot was going to stay at uni all by herself?”

You didn’t feel like an idiot, you felt like a prey animal fleeing one predator to sprint into the den of another.

Ambessa interjected then, “Yes, what’s this I hear about broken heating?”

It was an innocent and very valid question from the woman hosting you. She needed to shut the fuck up. “Uh, our terraced house was still using its system from the 60s and it finally died,” You said, instead of telling her the former, “Dad’s on the rig and can’t get anyone to fix it sooner than January,”

“We’ll have you for the whole festive period then,” Ambessa said, tone calm as she sent you a smile. It was indifferent and kind, in the same way she had been those first days of the summer. It rocked you, eating some of the adrenaline and replacing it with tears that glazed embarrassingly for a second. Long enough for her to see, but with enough control to spare you from Mel.

Five weeks of being in Medarda Central, playing happy families, “If that’s okay,”.

“We’re so happy to have you, Dear,”

Bitch. “Thank you, Ambessa,”

That evening was like a dream, stuck behind the screens of a nightmare. Three large christmas trees to decorate, a tradition apparently, with mulled wine and gingerbread. Everything was beautiful, and to your surprise each ‘child’ was given a tree. The larger one in the foyer was put up on November 21st every year by Ambessa, Mel told you, but the Medarda siblings and Mina each got their own tree to decorate once everyone was home.

You had been given Mina’s with a snort from Ambessa, who was supposedly happy to have someone else take on the ‘lazy demon’s workload’. It felt nice, for a moment, as you stared down at the fluff ball who seemed to have accepted you as a guest. This was a new thing and if you closed your eyes and breathed out of your armpit no memories appeared. You decorated methodically, using some of Mina’s and some spare that had been assembled for you. A perfect evening, with your best friend and her stupid big brother. And their sexy, evil, confusing mother.

Like you thought, a dream to nightmare pipeline. A trend you saw continuing for the rest of the holiday. It ended with watching The Grinch, something you had never seen. Jim Carrey was unusual and Martha May was disturbingly attractive, but that’s all you really gained, too busy ignoring Ambessa’s joking gaze. Did she think you were crazy? That you wanted to spend this holiday being fucked about by her too? Mel’s head on your shoulder grounded you, saved you from the turbulence of her.

It caught you once, entirely by accident, and your head began to swim. Golden swirls, tender and amused. She looked more beautiful somehow, finally victorious in getting your attention as she raised a brow. Your neck mottled red as anxious teeth crushed against one another. Rough hands stroking your cheek, kissing your sleepy eyelids as you ignored the film that followed Trading Places. This place was haunted and you realised that you were just another ghost. Kino went to bed first and unlike a few months ago, you were determined not to be a straggler. You got your water and tea whilst Mel spoke to her Mum about the upcoming Carol Concert you were supposed to be attending.

“Night,” You said, voice soft, as she nodded to them.

“Oh,” Mel said, “Bit early for you, isn’t it?”

“Long day,” A smile, “See you in the morning,”

“Nice to have you back, well done with the Tree today,” Ambessa’s silky tone drifted, “Sleep well Sweetheart,”

That was a new one and it caused no reaction at all. Your hand was trembling because the tea was hot, that was all. Your body shook from the exhaustion in the spare room, lip wet and trembling, because the journey was long and you missed your Dad. You could not feel her phantom touches brushing the tears away, it was simply the wind.

Ten days of Christmas festivities passed and it did not get any easier. No matter when you woke, she still somehow had your tea ready for you. You’d hoped initially that it was Rictus, the man you had come to know slightly better than in the warmer months, but alas he hadn’t a clue what you were on about. Those eyes, hypnotic and cruel, still attempted to lure you in each day. Hands lingered, bodies closer than needed as you passed in corridors or sat on the same sofa.

One day you boiled over, alone in the kitchen with her as she sorted through recipes.

“Will you knock it off?”

“Hmm?”

“Don’t hum at me,” You snapped, hands clenching your mug, horror clenching your heart, “T-The touching and the looks, stop it,”

Ambessa laughed, pushing her glasses onto her head as she fixed you with a look, “Didn’t seem to mind it a couple of months ago, Sweet Girl,”

“A couple of months ago I was a fool,” A stuttered breath, half stuck and bubbling, “Mel’s my priority, I love her and this fucked up thing would hurt her, so stop it,”

Ambessa’s look changed into something you couldn’t understand, eyes pensive and face blank. She nodded once, head tilted to scan you. Was it respect? Surely not, she barely saw you as a full person.

“Okay,” Her tone was measured, “I can work with that,”

It relieved you, the thick, invisible smog circling overhead finally beginning to clear. You didn't trust her intentions towards you, but you could trust them towards Mel. The tremors and the cries slowed slightly, your sleep troubled but not totally absent.

Something new formed, something you could just about stomach. It was just as if she was your best friend’s mum, hosting you for the holidays, with jokes and motherly pats. She had never known the taste of your lips, you had never nestled your head between her thighs, never shared an overly fond look over her daughter’s head. It was easier this way, you promised yourself in the dead of night as you tossed from side to side. You’d spent so little time actually in this bed, that now it seemed as foreign to you as the woman who occupied the other. Her eyes still stayed on you from time to time, but it was insignificant now.

Did you prefer that? Was this better?

All Ambessa knew was that she did not like this change. Not one bit. She was unsure of how to process you coming back. You were a nice enough girl, an excellent fuck and actually funny to be around. You made Mel happy, which made her happy, but you had gotten a little too attached. She had avoided you since then for that reason, the thoughts of you that drifted through easy to push away. That being said, she missed you sprawled in her bed babbling nonsense as she ruined you. You were a pest, lingering around her thoughts and she was unsure of how to proceed. She seemed to regain one part of you, sarcastic and passionate, at the expense of any and all private access to you. It irked her, though she would not admit it, that you had called it before she had. Guilt sat heavy in her stomach, mixing with something else as she remembered your aggressive devotion to her daughter. Parts of you, buried, now resurfaced for her. How you took your tea, which hand would brush back hair behind your ear, in which order you would put your socks and shoes on. Tiny, minute details. She glanced at you, licking up cream on a hot chocolate and saw images of a similar kind, your pretty crinkled eyes eating an ice cream as you gazed at her across the sunlounger.

Ambessa Medarda could not wait for you to get the hell out of her house.

How ironic, considering you finally felt you were flowing into the new rhythm.

She wasn’t scary, she had no power. Other than the fact that this was, you know, her house. You shared tea, read together, joked and laughed. You only looked at her lips every now and again, a natural thing. You looked at Mel’s lips sometimes. Yeah. Her nicknames only caused nausea, not an actual gag to choke you. Plus you were distracted half the time by Kino and Mel. Frockiling about in London, seeing a show or wandering through museums, it was endless. Somehow you had done more in the first two weeks here than most of the summer, mind frazzled by Christmas joy. The best part was that on December 17th it started to snow and showed no signs of stopping. A true winter wonderland.

The only other distinct change from the summer was the shiny new vibrator in your bedside drawer. You still had needs, for god sake and the distraction should help. Nothing would satiate the burn like she did, but you tried not to think about that once you realised it was her you pictured to send yourself over the edge. Oops.

Ambessa, restless and frustrated, strolled down the corridor in the dead of night. Each door zipped past until a grunt startled her into stillness. It was from behind your door and a flare of worry resounded in her at the pained sound. Against her better judgement, her fist rose to knock on the wood when she heard it again. Clearer now, louder. Not pain, her mind roared, it was a cry of pleasure. Pleased little pants and gasps travelled to her ears, turning her thoughts to molten nothingness. She had uncharacteristically avoided sex for the past few weeks, and this was enough for her to tumble over the edge. Leaning against the wall, breath silent, she gulped. This was ridiculous, wrong and crazy and reckless. She was in the hallway for christ’s sake. Still, with chaotic urgency, her hand slipped beneath her trousers as she caressed her neglected clit.

You lay, legs wide and twitching, pleasuring yourself in bed totally unaware of your desperate audience. Tonight had been tougher on your resilience, her dress was so simple and yet it hugged her in a way that made you think of flowing water. Water led you to thinking of the pool and suddenly you were smacked with images of her naked swimming. It was too good to ignore, already halfway down the hot spiral your body craved, teeth bruising plump lips. Head thrown back, you began to keen and mewl, the toy pushing you into mindlessness, each gentle buzz pulling a whine.

Ambessa was almost nonsensical, unable to battle for her ironclad control as your noises had her frantically chasing release. You had haunted her for days, flushed cheeks and snide comments, as if nothing had ever happened. You essentially ignored any heat from her and it was maddening. She wanted to fuck you into the mattress you lay on now, the image making her eyes roll slightly. The final straw, shooting her into a shaking climax, was a sudden, bursting whimper of her name from your lips.

You hadn’t meant to, rocking yourself against this thick rabbit, but the image of her was so clear and you wanted it so bad, craved it. You cried out for her, as you had so many times before. Everything sang, bright and harsh, as you went limp.

She was much the same, choking her gasps back as her knees shook slightly. Finally some relief, her thoughts able to order themselves slightly. She did not, however, like the form they took. You, temptress and forbidden fruit, carved a home in her head she could not fill with anything else.

This was a mess. She was a mess. You were a problem.

Ambessa found herself bundling up, rambling at Rictus about almost everything as she prepared to check the lake, to see if it was ready for skating. He took it well, he was trusted for a reason. There was a merry glint in those eyes, a knowing of his Mistress. Something was wrong, was grating on her and he believed that something had a name and sparkly, open eyes.

“Need anything else?” Rictus asked, passing her the mug of coffee so she could finish it, “I’ll sort out whatever part of your wardrobe Mina has mutilated and then start wrapping the kids gifts,”

“Fantastic,” Distracted, dismissive, till her shoulders tensed, “Did you get anything for her?”

He remained neutral, “Did you want me to?”

A pregnant pause, stormy eyes, “I-Uh yes, I’ll send you a list,”

As if her house had become a prison, she smacked into you just as she wandered outside. You stood, fluffy coat and thick scarf, staring mystified at the white landscape.

“I’m sorry,” It was a squeak, mind haunted by your enjoyment last night.

“No, no,” She said, “That was my fault,”

“What,” A swallow, as you met her eyes with passiveness, “Where are you off to?”

“The lake,” She grunted, “See if it’s ready,”

“Ready?”

“For skating,”

Your mind exploded with excitement, never having even considered this as a possibility, lips betraying you, “Oh my god really, can I come?”

Your childlike wonder clawed at her lungs, posture softening, smile tugged forward unbidden, “If you’re careful, and do as I say,”

That was how you’d ended up watching Ambessa Medarda check this huge lake with military precision. You hadn’t visited it much in the summer, it was a fifteen minute walk through the woods so in the heat the pool was the obvious preference. Now though? It was a magical, entrancing grove that you giddy with joy. It was almost like it didn’t matter that it was her, that this was the longest you’d spent alone since August.

“Well,” Ambessa called, “Looks perfect to me,”

To your surprise, she removed two pairs of skates from her bag and chucked one at you, leaning against a large Yew tree to put her own on.

You didn’t know she knew to bring a second pair and it flared suspicion in you, “Why do you have these?”

“They’re Mel’s, Sweetheart,” She answered, amusement tickling her cheeks, “Didn’t realise they were still in there, you’re the same shoe size,”

Oh. Okay. That still didn’t solve the issue that you had no idea how to skate, and you said as much.

Ambessa could feel, as intimately as the danger of an oncoming bullet, that this would not end well. The offer left her lips all the same. She could teach you, it was Christmas tradition and Mel would end up dragging you here the second she found out it was ready.

She was a good teacher, patient and calm, with a habit of everexcessive praise and degradation intermingling. You were being a twat when gaining momentum, but did turning very well Darling. It felt unreal, distant from the dull ache she had placed in your heart, as acceptance slotted further into your bones.

Soaring like an injured bird, she watched you. Round and round you moved, grace slow to arrive but firm in staying, as her eyes stung. She couldn’t understand why, breath quick, as she coughed into gloved hands. The pressure built the more you moved and Ambessa nibbled her lip in contemplation.

“Oh my god, it’s ready,” Kino’s loud shriek saved his mother from further emotional introspection, “MEL. MEL. Come Skate,”

The Medarda siblings joined you, both skilled and dangerously competitive, forcing Ambessa to tug you left and right across the ice to avoid their thundering.

In short, it was the best day yet and that night you could sleep without a cry or an orgasm to force you. Christmas might actually be salvageable.

Another party. You’d joked to Mel that she really was the perfect upper class stereotype with a pool and horses you had avoided out of immense fear, with all her time spent getting drunk and talking about all the things she’d done. Mel was a bit offended, which made your assessment all the funnier, gold lips pouting. This one was very intimate, you’d know everyone there and it was more just a chance to see everyone before Christmas Day.It was just the Medardas and you on the big day, their first year having another person due to Ambessa’s usual strictness that it was only family. That was like a lobster slap to the face, making you feel special and like a burden all at once.

Somehow you were crucial in planning yet again, Mel too busy seeing old friends before they went away and Kino refusing to engage. He’d done his bit for the year with Ambessa’s birthday, he stubbornly replied, hiding himself away in the library with Mina.

That was how you found yourself in the kitchen, at the breakfast table expending half your energy to a Chess Game with Rictus and the other to being a food tester.

“Don’t like cranberry sauce,” You grimaced at her offering, Rook takes Knight “That one’s for him,”

“I don’t either,” Bishop takes Rook, his gruff smile making you laugh in kind.

“What’s the point of you then?” Ambessa snapped, eating the canape herself.

“Idle decoration?” “Part of the furniture?” You responded the same time as Rictus, giggles hidden by an insincere hand.

The three of you powered through the Everest of washing up she had created, humming to the radio and thinking up the worst Christmas cracker jokes we’d heard over the years. You were on drying duty initially, till it proved you hadn’t got a clue where anything lived.

“Didn’t you live here for three months?” He mocked, reordering the baking trays.

“She didn’t cook once in that time,” Ambessa sighed, “Some people just take and take and take,”

It was a joke, but it made you angry and the plate hit the water with more force than you could control. Soapy, lukewarm water crashed against both you and Ambessa, leaving you incredulous and her as still as a statue.

“Well,” Rictus said, warm presence cutting through the tension, “Off you both go to change, it’s enough for me to finish alone anyway,”

You both rushed down the corridor, and you felt yourself lurch as something reminiscent of the echo of an apology left her lips. You waved it away, eyes stinging as you slammed the door and curled under the duvet.

Everything was fine. Everything was good. You were friends now and you didn’t love her at all and you weren’t fuelled most by her laugh, her approval, her existence. You fell asleep with a wet stomach, melancholic music echoing in your head as you ended up back on that dreamlike lake.

The day arrived, December 22nd and you felt weird nauseous butterflies. Things had backtracked a bit since the washing up, but you were determined to drag yourself forward.

Everything shone, the powerhouse of a small country fuelling the lights and decorations as Mel sat crisscrossed on her bed, painting you like one of her canvases.

“This feels like a lot,” You said, yawning, “Everyone coming already knows what I look like,”

She smacked your arm lightly, “It’s Christmas, live a little,”

“I’m already living a lot thank you, you’ve got me in heels and spanx,” You flicked the snap to emphasise your point, moving your lips to hinder her lipstick application.

“Brat,” She gripped your chin, keeping you steady as her face lit up, “There you look like an angel now,”

You did, Your hair was shiny and curled, your face a painted marvel of Mel’s imagination and one of her white and gold dresses clung to you, highlighting everything you had ever been blessed with. Your eyes burned. A click smashed through your thoughts, the film camera flash capturing you forever, awestruck at yourself and grateful for your best friend.

Joy came easy here, her presence diluted by people you had come to love, as you slipped through the small crowd, challenging Viktor to a sober chess rematch. You didn’t win, but neither did he, and with a stalemate reached you gobbled up Ambessa’s admittedly perfect food parcels. Rictus seemed to circle back to you more often than anyone else, smirk on his face, a silent comradery.

The record player was soothing, champagne and eggnog mixing to make an odd sensation in your stomach as Kino twirled you around.

“I’m glad Mel has you,” He mutters against your ear, “She’s needed a friend to ground her,”

Everything spun weirdly, the compliment ironic as you nodded roughly, “I love her, she’s the best, and hey, you’re not too bad either,”

He laughed, twirling you a final time, “Always the charmer, Princess,”

Chaos devolved, as it always did with this group of friends, the snow too tempting a siren. You’d actually been having a coherent conversation with Ambessa and Cassandra Kiramman about your thesis progress, eyes only slightly hazy with booze, when you were hauled away by Jayce and VI. A snowball fight on the patio had erupted, bodies numb to the cold as their skin was heated by alcohol, violent throws and crashing dodges. No true adult participated, though some watched fondly, as Rictus recorded the whole thing on an old camcorder, another Medarda tradition apparently.

Ambessa trailed the scene, heart warm at the sight. She loved her children, loved the people they had become even if sometimes they seemed alien to her, more gentle and considerate than she considered possible. Their friends were a great reflection of them, loud and eclectic, with the loyalty of a wolf pack. You flitted about like a golden mote of light, drawing her eye more than she wished. That dress was sinful, you filled it in a way that made her ache, makeup turning your eyes into deep pools in wish she lost her senses. She knew nothing about your thesis, though Cassandra seemed to have continued that conversation with her as you were dragged away. This was becoming impractical, her body not her own. She retreated to the kitchen under the pretense of refills.

You bowed out early, freezing your tits off was fun until it wasn’t and you were less agile than the others. Beelinging for the kitchen, desperate for tea and to choke down more canapes, your cold skin smashed against a warm, firm wall.

She was beautiful tonight, as always. Resplendent and controlling, wielding her space perfectly. Braids and curls intermingled to frame her angular face, statement birthday necklace in place with matching earrings, as long lashes fluttered. It was the most stuck you’d felt since coming back to the house, an aura so similar to that first barbeque, that you’d almost slipped and made an inappropriate joke.

Your damp, snow soaked curls stuck your face as you stood inches from her, the kitchen silent save for your mingled breath.

“Good party,” You crooked, frozen in face.

“Yes,” She responded in kind, “A success I think,”

“I-I just wanted another salmon tart thing,”

She placed one in your hand, eyes widening, as she gripped your bare shoulder “You’re freezing, Sweet girl,”

Sweet Girl the tipsy, happy haze called. You nodded, “Was in the snow,”

She could warm you up, her sly and corrupted mind cried, thoughts blank as your innocent, devil eyes captured her body and perhaps even soul. She moved thoughtlessly, a gentle ringed hand tilting your chin as her dark lips crushed against yours.

Euphoria. You were in heaven, succumbing hungrily to the kiss, lungs starved of oxygen for four months. No logic here, no reason or doubt. Only her firm guiding embrace, and warm tongue. Ambessa Medarda was an evil, perfect woman and you could not escape her.

Dizzy, drunk in more ways than one, you pushed her off gently. It took everything in you, salmon tart crushed to nothing on the ground as you gulped.

Her inability to treat you a person was not why you’d stopped this, though if you respected yourself it should have been, it was because of Mel.

“This isnt-”

“Oh my fucking god,” It was shrill, whispered and bitter, your heart dropping out of your ass, ”No, you haven’t done this to me Mum, not again,”

Speak of the devil.

#ambessa x reader #ambessa medarda #arcane #ambessa smut #arcane ambessa #reader insert

123 notes · View notes