#ambessa medarda x fem reader | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

hcneymooners · 2 months ago

Text

⋆ i am afraid i will love you forever.

ambessa x sugar baby!reader x sevika. men & minors dni.

synopsis: ambessa & sevika are married for business reasons but cannot stand each other. however, they love you—you who are unaware that they are together.

cw: age difference, older woman/young woman, polyam but is it really bc they just love you and not each other, sugar baby!reader, business moguls!ambessa & sevika, power dynamics, power imbalance (you're a sugar baby, lol), sw, pining, non-sexual intimacy, sexually explicit content, threesome, cunnilingus, vaginal fingering, oral sex (everyone is receiving at some point), masturbation, exhibitionism, voyeurism, dom/sub, sub!reader, dom!ambessa, switch!sevika, mommy kink, strength kink, face-sitting, face fucking, possessive sevika & ambessa, y'all there's a lot of nastiness in here idk if i can warn for it all, discussions of sexuality, implied assault (non-graphic, within conversation), slightly dub-con, angst, angst with a happy ending, misunderstandings, arranged marriage, sexual tension, hate sex, bisexual!reader.

wc: 10.3k

PLAYLIST.

notes: y'all, i'm going to hell. i had fun with this. i have such a soft spot for plots like this.

ACT I: CONCEPTION. you were used to feeling like a guest in your own life, everything fleeting, everything temporary.

sugaring was something inherently lacking permanence, even in name. it was sweet for a moment, full of gleaming gifts that you accepted with perfect tears in your eyes.

you had more than enough money, saved from endless months in which you traipsed across the world in the hands of older men. maybe it was about the attention now, this idea that you were still young enough to be considered enticing without effort. maybe it was the desperation to wring what you could out of an age gap connection before you became the older one.

still, in the beginning years of your twenties, you found it increasingly grating. very quickly, you understood that the men were the main problem.

they were all the same: fleshy jowls wiggling as they chewed thickly through caviar and jasmine rice, their boisterous laughs sailing across tables when you attempted to join conversations. they took your interests and re-explained them to you, returning them pulpy and distorted as they attempted to convince you that you didn't understand them the way they did. their self-importance clung to them like cheap cologne.

the rare occasions where you actually slept with them were mercifully short, and you learned to suspend yourself out of your body. you would imagine hovering somewhere over yourself, banished to the lavish mirrored ceiling of the ritz or whatever opulent hotel they'd chosen. they shuddered awkwardly above you, and afterward, you'd come back into yourself only to scrub viciously at your skin under the unforgiving spray of the shower.

the women were different—usually. you found yourself drawn to their luxury perfumes and high society drawls. it was because of this that you dropped working through an agency—which you had originally chosen to better protect yourself from male clients—and began independent contracting.

you kept a private log of the ones you liked best. there was the private university professor (who was really a nepotism baby) who loved to wear le labo matcha 26 and smelled so deliciously of fig whenever she kissed you that you sometimes bought the fruit just to continue tasting her. her nickname for you was something in greek—μωρό μου, you think. moro mou. she told you it meant 'my baby', but in all honesty, she could have called you anything. you just liked hearing her speak.

you were a dreamy, distant creature. your appeal lay in your ethereal quality, moving through the world in a way that suggested you were detached from it. people described your presence as lingering, smokey and soft, like a fading perfume in a sunlit room. there was something endearing about the tilt of your head, the deliberate pause in your movements and speech as you stewed in thought, that made people stare a second too long.

you had plied yourself with romantic imaginations since you were younger, when you first grew to hate your mother. that hatred had led you across far waters into a glittering life of your own making. but you'd learned that women could be just as dangerous, if not more so. they could ensnare you, shatter your heart with just the flicker of a glance.

so, of course, this meant that you were bound to get caught in the tides of extensive affection at some point. you just didn't expect it to be with them.

🥩 ˚ ༘ ೀ⋆｡˚𓃔

the first sign should have been the unusual nature they coaxed from you.

you typically focused on one relationship at a time, securing yourself to a single person until you became too honest or too sensitive or too old. but with them, you found yourself with what you called a roster—a term your best friend and fellow sugar baby clleo (yes, two l's) took issue with during your weekly brunches.

"it's not a roster when it's only two women, [name]," she said, stirring her mimosa with a silver straw.

"it's more than one, no?"

"i feel like you have to have a minimum of three." she raised an eyebrow. "though i have to admit, even two is unusual for you."

the first was ambessa.

you'd met her when you weren't even looking, at some jazz show clleo had received tickets for from her newest beau. you had been perched inside the red velvet of the box, eyes roving over the insides of the other open balcony seats. you loved to observe, to look into others' lives and pretend they could be your own.

that night, you'd worn a navy slip dress that pushed the line of being dress-code appropriate, but it was comfortable and you had been tired. your hair was elaborately braided away from your face, threaded through with silk ribbons of the same color. despite its usually disagreeable nature, you'd managed to make it look elegant enough. your skin was littered with goosebumps from the fervent blasting of the air conditioning.

for once, you'd done your makeup the way you preferred it—less blushing ingenue, more cool nudes and a dark, bold lip. in the bottom of your purse sat two rolling bullets of lipstick: one a berry shade, the other a satiny red slightly subdued by a touch of brown pigment.

your feet had been curled beneath you, your ballet flats cast aside in the corner. the rounded tops were slightly scuffed, but you only saw it as a testimony of love. again, you looked out into the crowd only to find a woman looking back.

she was utterly beautiful, and your body flushed with heat for a moment, eyes wide like a doe. her skin was a dark, rich brown that gleamed with a sheen of oil and perhaps a shimmering body mist. her hair—black and streaked with thin rivers of gray—was pulled up into a tight bun, though the front was cornrowed. her mouth was full and smooth, a small gold cuff inserted in the middle of her bottom lip.

that night, she'd worn an oversized blazer over tailored pants. your eyes caught on her diamond cufflinks, and you felt your fingers clutch tighter around the bulk of your vintage ysl clutch.

she watched you with a sense of urgency, as if you might take flight like a bird and never return. bashfully, you turned back to watch the performance and clapped politely as it came to an end. her gaze never strayed from you, and as you rose to leave with clleo, you knew that she would be waiting.

you don't remember much of what happened after, of arranging the contract and indenturing yourself to her wealth. you only remember how she made you feel, her great body towering over you as she pierced you with her shrewd gaze. she'd cupped your elbow, pulled you gently to the side so that you were less in the way. the movement was easy; you trusted her with your body immediately.

now, ambessa reigned over the entries of your leather journal as your clear favorite. everything she did further endeared you to her, and you found yourself tumbling out of bed to check your phone where it lay on the floor, desperate for her messages. you watched the device all night, its flat body connected to a limp white cord plugged into the wall—willing it to ring.

and when she did call, you were almost delirious with joy.

ambessa's world was a carefully curated exhibition of power. noxus corp dominated the skyline with its obsidian tower, all sharp angles and tinted windows that reflected the setting sun like spilled blood. you'd learned early on not to ask too many questions about her work. the corporate merger making headlines—something about expanding into the industrial district of zaun—was just background noise to the way she'd trace your collarbone with cold fingers heavy with rings.

belatedly, in the midst of your betrayal and anguish, you’d berate yourself on your refusal to engage with real life when it inconvenienced you. you could’ve caught on, dived deep into the hole of information that was the internet as clleo did when taking up with someone new. but you didn’t, you just answered her call.

she liked to dress you up. tonight, it was a paper-thin black dress that cost more than your month's rent, the fabric liquid against your skin. you'd paired it with kitten heels that made soft clicking sounds against the marble floors—ambessa preferred when you were shorter than her, easier to maneuver, to possess. your lips were stained the color of coffee, and you'd lined your eyes with something dusky and soft.

the restaurant was the kind of place that didn't list prices on the menu, where the silverware felt weighty enough to be used as weapons. you liked this style of dining; it allowed you to escape further. you could pretend that since there were no prices, every morsel you ate was free and that the woman across from you was someone whom you loved and received love back from instead of bills.

“pull your hair back,” she commanded softly when you sat down, reaching across to brush a strand from your face. her touch lingered longer than necessary. “i want to see you properly. you should never feel a need to hide from me.”

you obliged, using the elastic around your wrist to gather your hair into a loose knot. the movement exposed the necklace she'd given you last week—a delicate thing of white gold and diamonds that probably cost more than your university education. her eyes darkened with satisfaction. she liked marking you with beautiful things, preferred to communicate through touch and gifts rather than words.

you preened under her clear pleasure. the idea that you’d done something right flowed through you, sweet as sugar as was the phenomenon of female favoritism. your tongue settled behind your teeth as she skimmed the menu, ordering for you as she always did. she seemed more aware of what you liked and needed more than you had ever been.

“are you alright with sharing the roast monkfish tonight, little lamb? i’m not all that hungry, so i think we should deal with something light.”

you nodded and she smiled, chucking your chin as she flagged down the server. you squeezed your thighs together, resisting the urge to rise from your seat and sit at her side with your head resting in her lap.

the waiter arrived with a bottle of wine you were unfamiliar with, which meant it was far more expensive than your beloved six-dollar gas station sémillon. as ambessa swirled the dark liquid in her glass, her phone buzzed. her expression hardened for a fraction of a second before smoothing over.

"business," she said simply, standing. "order whatever you'd like. i'll return shortly."

you caught fragments of her conversation as she walked away—something about zaun's infrastructure and liability concerns. one hour bled into two. the waiter refilled your glass with practiced discretion, and you watched the ice in ambessa's water melt completely. your phone remained silent except for a single text: an urgent matter requires my attention. car service will take you home.

the words blurred on your screen. you'd grown used to her absences, the way she could withdraw completely into her world of corporate warfare, leaving you adrift in these expensive spaces. but tonight, the emptiness felt sharper somehow. you had, more than ever, wanted her to take you home.

it was then that the woman entered the restaurant, right as you blinked upward to dispel the gathering tears. the air seemed to shift with her presence as she absentmindley looked in your direction.

she moved with the fluid grace of someone who knew how to handle herself in the cruel maw of this world, efficient and forceful despite wearing an expertly tailored suit. her left arm caught the light strangely—some sort of advanced prosthetic that spoke of military tech or private healthcare. a significant scar bisected her face, but rather than diminishing her beauty, it enhanced her striking features.

your paths crossed at the bar while you waited for a fresh glass of wine. she ordered whiskey, neat, and her voice was rough velvet.

"you're wearing that necklace wrong," she said, not looking at you directly. "the clasp should be centered at the nape. here."

before you could protest, her fingers—warm, unlike ambessa's—were at your neck, adjusting the chain. you caught a whiff of motor oil beneath expensive perfume. you swayed slightly, pressing into her touch. she steadied you with a single finger at the beginning knob of your spine, strong where you were momentarily weak.

"i'm sevika," she said, finally meeting your eyes. something in her gaze made your breath catch. you’d never seen eyes that grey. "you look like you could use something stronger than wine."

you smiled, albeit shakily, which avalanched into finding yourself talking to her about everything and nothing—about the book of poetry you kept on your nightstand for late night reading, about the way you collected vintage coats, about how you sometimes felt like you were floating three feet above your own life.

she listened with an intensity that made you feel anchored, present in your skin in a way you hadn't felt in months. her questions were sparse but precise, each one drawing out another story, another piece of yourself you hadn't meant to expose. and then she asked you to leave with her, and the answer was quick and easy. a light, eager ‘yes’.

the speakeasy she took you to was hidden beneath an auto shop, all exposed brick and piano medleys that wrapped around you like rope. in the dim light, you noticed the way her prosthetic arm moved with incredible precision as she gestured, the way her eyes softened almost imperceptibly when you laughed. she noticed you shiver and draped her jacket over your shoulders without comment, the leather still warm from her body.

"i manage specialized acquisitions," she said when you asked what she did, her smile suggesting there was more to the story. "currently dealing with some complex merger negotiations. but that's boring. tell me more about that poetry collection you mentioned."

you talked until your voice grew hoarse, until the early hours when the city felt like it belonged only to those who were lost or hiding. when she dropped you home, she fixed your broken porch light without being asked, her movements quick and purposeful. you found out later she'd also left her number saved in your phone under 's'.

what you didn't know—couldn't have known—was that across town, ambessa was returning to the penthouse she shared with her wife of six months, their marriage a carefully hidden clause in the merger agreement between noxus and zaun's industrial empire. their shared living space was largely ceremonial, each woman keeping to their own wing, intersecting only for appearances and board meetings.

that night, sevika found ambessa in their shared study, both of them surrounded by contract papers and acquisition reports.

"the zaun infrastructure reports," sevika said, dropping a thick folder on the desk. her wedding ring caught the light—a simple band worn only within these walls.

"you're late," ambessa replied without looking up. "the board expects updates by morning."

"i had a personal matter to attend to."

"as did i."

neither woman acknowledged sevika’s missing jacket which she never was without, nor the faint perfume—your perfume—that clung to ambessa's blazer. their arrangement was clear: their marriage was business, their personal lives their own. they had trained themselves not to care what, or who, the other did in their free time.

but that night, for the first time since their arranged union, both women found themselves thinking of the same person as they worked in silence. it was one of their more agreeable evenings together.

ACT II: GROWING PAINS.

“where do you go?”

you turned, half-lidded, your hair mussed into an untamed bird’s nest. sevika lay beside you, her smile a lopsided thing—teasing, warm, a little worn. you leaned toward her instinctively, pressing a lazy finger into the shallow dimple that cut into her cheek.

she caught your wrist before you could withdraw, lips brushing the tender pulse beneath your skin before pulling you into her chest. her hand slid across your stomach, warm and heavy, before it wandered higher to pinch your nipple just shy of too hard.

the two of you had met in a hotel, yet somehow, it felt less clinical than it should have.

“what do you mean?” you murmured, breath catching as her hand stilled.

“you go somewhere,” she said, “when we fuck.”

the words hung between you, and you felt your body shift under her scrutiny. her gaze trailed the uneasy motion of your shoulder blades as you shifted upright. honesty clawed at your throat, but you tried to swallow it back. you’ve never been the tiger, only the tiger’s bride.

“i often—” you broke off, tongue darting to wet your lips. her arm tightened around your waist, as if sensing your instinct to retreat. “i tend to disassociate when i do this part of things. i’m not—what i want, i usually can’t achieve. i don’t want to make it anyone’s problem, so i float.”

“float?” she repeated softly. her tone was unreadable, but you refused to meet her eyes.

“i pick a spot on the ceiling,” you admitted, voice small. “from there, i phase myself out of my body. it’s like it’s happening to someone else.”

sevika said nothing at first, and the silence thickened as you focused on the slow, steady rise and fall of her chest. then, carefully, she shifted you into her lap, holding you there like a delicate thing. her lips found the center of your chest, pressing a kiss over your heart before trailing up to the vulnerable line of your throat.

“you do this with me?”

“not always,” you whispered. “you’re…different. you pay attention to me—what i need. only two other people have ever been that way. both women.”

“mmm. do you still see them?” her voice was calm, but you caught the subtle current of possession beneath her words.

“only one.”

“and?”

“it’s good with her. one of the best.”

“and what do you want?” she pressed. the question lodged itself in your chest. “you said you can’t achieve it.”

your cheeks burned, and you squirmed in her lap, but she held you fast. “i—this is embarrassing.”

“there’s nothing embarrassing about your desires, baby girl,” she murmured, her tone soothing. “i wouldn’t be here if i didn’t want you to enjoy this too.”

“i do enjoy it, but…i’d like to go further. i like to go under.” you hesitated, then added, “you know that i’m—”

“submissive,” she finished for you.

you nodded, your voice softening as you continued. “i don’t really like the harsher aspects of submission, but i love being taken somewhere else—being softer. i love being told i’m good, that i’m doing well. i love being pushed past my limits, to the point where i’m…hazy. overstimulated. freed from my worries through my body, through the pleasure i give and receive.

“when you manhandle me, when you pull me close and push into me like you’re starving for it, when you break me apart with your mouth, i get so close. i hover in this warm heaven where i’m nothing but what i feel. you know?”

sevika’s expression softened, her face almost unbearably open. before you could process it, she moved, pressing you into the mattress beneath her. her broad frame blotted out the light, sheltering you in a cocoon of warmth and safety.

“you are good, baby,” she finally said. “so good.”

her lips fell again to your neck and you felt her slide her thick fingers into the warm walls of your cunt. a sound slid from your throat, something gutteral and worn. she began to move, curling her fingers as if you pull you closer. there, in the back of your mind, was that heaven.

she kissed your temple, her lips lingering there as your body arched into her hands. “thank you for telling me.”

then, softer: “that heaven? i want to take you there.”

the words sank into your skin, heady and heavy, as if she’d whispered she loved you.

🥩 ˚ ༘ ೀ⋆｡˚𓃔

ambessa had endured a long day—one filled with tedious negotiations and the peculiar frustrations of ruling over people who thought themselves her equals. she'd craved just one moment of quiet in her house, but fate, it seemed, had other plans.

when she stepped through the door, the sight of her wife pacing their kitchen dragged a weary sigh from her chest. sevika's movements were sharp, her broad shoulders taut beneath the worn leather of her jacket. even now, after months of marriage, seeing sevika in their shared space felt like an intrusion.

for a fleeting moment, ambessa considered turning around, but she hadn’t built empires by running from conflict.

“sevika,” she began, voice clipped, “if this is about zaun’s profit percentage in the acquisition, i suggest you take it up with legal. i’ve no patience to discuss business tonight.”

“it’s not that,” sevika muttered, her tone bristling with frustration. “but thanks for your grace, medarda.”

ambessa’s eyebrow arched. “then what?”

sevika stilled, the weight of her gaze pinning ambessa in place. “are you the other woman?”

for a moment, the words didn’t register. then irritation flared, swift and hot.

“i thought we agreed we weren’t in love,” ambessa replied, dry as the desert. “who i see outside this house is none of your concern, unless it compromises our arrangement.”

sevika exhaled sharply, the sound edged with restrained anger. she reached into her pocket and retrieved her phone, its screen casting a gentle glow across the marble counter. with a few taps, she pulled up a recent conversation.

she paused, a smile stealing across her face as she took in the selfie you'd sent of you and clleo in matching milano blaniks. the tenderness in her expression was something ambessa had never seen before.

my feet hurt but it might be worth it!! you'd texted. she had responded in record time.

looking cute, baby girl. i like the purple.

me too! they had a navy and gold pair i would kill for, but i'm trying to be responsible.

sevika's smile deepened, and this time she sent a bank transfer along with her next message.

you can be a little irresponsible.

oh, sevi. that's not what i meant.

i know. i don't mind. get them both.

"i'm sorry, but were we not having a conversation?" ambessa's voice cut through the moment like frost.

sevika snapped back to reality, her face twisting into something ugly—the expression she reserved solely for ambessa. she selected another image, and ambessa stepped closer, her eyes narrowing at the familiar necklace adorning your throat.

she recognized it instantly—it had rested on her desk just nights ago, a small token of indulgence she’d gifted you during one of your afternoons together.

you were smiling, beaming, caught mid-laugh. your hair was damp, clinging to your cheeks, and a sea lion nudged at your side. it was an image of unfiltered joy.

"she was talking to me the other night," sevika began, her voice tight as a wire. "mentioned some other woman. i thought it was a client thing, but then she showed me this." she gestured at the screen. "that necklace. it was on your desk when i saw you."

ambessa said nothing at first, her jaw working. finally, she sighed, the sound heavy with something like resignation. “i didn’t know. i assumed she might have other clients, but i didn’t pursue her because of you.”

sevika’s shoulders sagged slightly, but the tension in her face remained. she bent her head, palms pressing into the cool marble of the counter. “what the fuck.”

“does she know?” ambessa asked after a beat.

"what would it matter?" sevika shot back, her voice rising like tide. her gaze locked on ambessa, and her lips twisted in disbelief. "holy shit. are you in love with her?"

the question hit like a blow, but ambessa’s reaction was instant.

“as if you’re any better,” she snapped. her tone turned venomous, sharp as a blade. “you sulk through the door, reeking of her sex, then slink into the shower as if i can’t hear you simpering in there.”

sevika straightened, anger sparking. “and you’re what? innocent?”

ambessa’s laugh was cold, cruel. “i’ve never been innocent a day in my life. but you—god, sevika, you’re pathetic. you’re worse than i thought.”

sevika’s fists clenched at her sides, but she didn’t lash out. instead, she held her ground, her gaze fierce. “what do we do now?”

ambessa hesitated. her mind raced through the implications, the potential fallout. finally, she crossed her arms, her posture stiff. “we don’t tell her.”

“and keep lying to her?” sevika’s voice cracked slightly. “how long do you think that’ll work?”

“as long as it has to,” ambessa replied, her voice low and final. “this arrangement isn’t just about her, sevika. it’s about us. about what we’ve built. if you care about her as much as you claim, you’ll think before ruining what little stability we have left.”

“for fuck’s sake, ambessa. she’s a sweet girl. she won’t—”

“you have no idea what she will do if she finds out,” ambessa hissed. “and i know how sweet she is. she’s the only goddamn person i know who can stand me. who do you think i’m really protecting?”

for once, sevika had no retort. the silence between them was loud, heavy, filled with unsaid things.

“i’ll handle it,” ambessa said after a long pause, her voice softer now but no less firm. “but don’t let your feelings make you sloppy. if you can’t compartmentalize, this will all fall apart.”

sevika turned away, her shoulders tense. “it’s already falling apart.”

🥩 ˚ ༘ ೀ⋆｡˚𓃔

ambessa didn’t sleep that night.

not because of sevika’s words—though they lingered like a sour taste in her mouth—but because of you. she’d grown accustomed to the softness of your skin beneath her fingers, the way your presence softened the edges of her world, made it almost bearable. and yet, she couldn’t shake the nagging thought that you might be nothing more than collateral damage in this carefully constructed house of cards.

the following morning, as sunlight filtered through the sprawling windows of her office, ambessa reached for her phone. her fingers hovered over your contact, her mind warring with itself. she’d always prided herself on her control, on her ability to compartmentalize. but now, for the first time in years, she felt the cracks forming.

her phone buzzed before she could decide, sevika’s name flashing across the screen.

“what now?” ambessa answered, her tone clipped.

“the gala,” sevika began, her voice unusually subdued. “this year it’s your turn to host, right?”

ambessa’s grip tightened on the phone. “yes. and what about it?”

“and,” sevika said, dragging out the word, “she’ll be there. she got an invite through one of her clients.”

the air seemed to still around her. “you’re certain?”

“positive,” sevika replied. “what do you want to do?”

ambessa leaned back in her chair, her gaze fixed on the skyline. the decision should have been simple: handle the event with poise, maintain appearances, and ensure that you remained blissfully unaware. but something about sevika’s tone made her pause.

“we’ll stick to the plan,” ambessa said finally. “she doesn’t know, and she won’t find out. not from us.”

they both knew it was only a beautiful dream.

🥩 ˚ ༘ ೀ⋆｡˚𓃔

and then suddenly, it was different. it was horrible in its subtleness, but enough to make you less comfortable than you were before.

you went to dinner. ambessa watched you with eyes as sharp as her diamond cufflinks, and you wondered if she knew how small you felt in her presence. you let her brush her thumb over your lower lip, and you leaned into it, hoping she doesn’t notice your hands gripping your clutch too tightly.

“is something wrong?” you asked her, throat closing around the end of the question.

she seemed to startle, and leaned back with a shake of her head. you knew what was coming next. she was going to blame work or her family, which you barely knew about, or maybe something as clandestine as the weather. you suddenly felt entirely too sick. you took a sip of wine, eyes falling on the little brown bag that sat next to you.

every gift you unwrapped felt a little like a goodbye, the sparkle dulled by the unspoken terms behind it. you kept smiling, face stretching tediously through the pain though your heart was sinking because nothing ruined a good arrangement faster than too much honesty.

you must’ve overstepped somewhere down the line, and she had grown weary of it. you were sweating now, looking away from her. it didn’t help that your phone had stayed dark all evening, your slew of messages to sevika read and unanswered.

“i finished that book you gave me,” you offered and ambessa nodded. “it was lovely. a little macabre, but i managed to push through.”

“bessa?” you asked, voice small.

the nickname seemed to spur her back into herself and she reached across the table, clutching your hand. her rings pressed cold indents into your skin. you'd grown to love the weight of them.

"the annual noxus environmental gala is tomorrow night," she said finally. her thumb traced circles on your palm. "i'd like you to come."

your heart stuttered. she'd never invited you to a public event before. "another client already invited me. i’ll be there."

she squeezed your hand once before letting go, unfazed by the mention of someone else. "good."

🥩 ˚ ༘ ೀ⋆｡˚𓃔

the evening was opulent in a way that made your skin prickle. the ballroom shimmered with soft golden light, chandeliers casting their glow across marble floors that reflected everything like still water.

you'd been invited by marcus—a client who preferred your company over dinner to discuss art and literature, who looked at you like you were made of gold but never asked for more than conversation. he was safe, a spiderweb you could free yourself from anytime without losing any skin.

your dress—a gift from ambessa—felt like a confession of infidelity. marcus had said nothing in the car, but his face had been momentarily confused. he kept track of what he gifted you, and he hadn’t seen this before. you offered no explanation, just smiled softly and held his clammy hand.

the fabric whispered against your skin with every movement, reminding you of her touch. you held your champagne glass like a shield, watching the bubbles rise and disappear, each one carrying a fragment of your certainty with it.

the past week had been strange. ambessa's usual sharp edges had softened into something almost tender, while sevika's messages had grown shorter, more distant. she’d eventually responded to the ones that had been read, but you felt as though you had disturbed her with them. you'd attributed it to work, to the upcoming shareholder conference business weekly had written about. you were good at making excuses for the people you loved.

and then you saw her.

ambessa stood on the stage like she'd been born there, her voice carrying across the room with the kind of authority that made everyone else feel small. her dress was long and white, with a delicate slit framing the plump skin of her thigh. it clung to her frame with an elegance that made your heart ache. you didn't want to admit how your chest tightened at the sight of her, how your body betrayed you with its instinctive pull toward her presence.

but before you could fully process the sight of her, another figure emerged from the crowd.

sevika.

she stood near the base of the stage, her broad frame impossible to miss. her presence was quieter than ambessa's, but no less commanding. the way she held herself—like she belonged here, like this was her world too—made something cold settle in your stomach. you shifted away from marcus, moved slightly forward with a furrowed brow.

it wasn't just their proximity—it was the way they moved. the way sevika's gaze lingered on ambessa, the subtle nods they exchanged, as if communicating in a language only they were privy to. and then, as if to confirm your worst fears, ambessa's hand brushed sevika's arm in a gesture so familiar, so natural, that the truth hit you like a truck.

the matching rings caught the light. the world tilted sideways.

the soft hum of conversation turned to static, the lights too bright, the room too warm. you tried to steady yourself, clutching the edge of a nearby cocktail table and nearly taking it down, but the weight of realization pressed down on you like a tide. marcus was asking after you, but you snapped at him.

you thought of the gifts—how similar their tastes had been. the way they both knew too much about each other’s companies, about each other's worlds. the little moments that should have added up but hadn't—because you hadn't wanted them to. you'd ignored the signs, wrapped yourself in their separate affections like blankets against the cold.

someone nearby whispered, "isn't that their…" the words trailed off, heavy with implication. you spun, eyes wide and searching. you couldn’t tell who had spoken.

the champagne glass slipped from your fingers. it didn't shatter—caught by a waiter's quick reflexes—but the sound of it leaving your hand seemed to echo through the room. both women turned at the noise, their expressions shifting from professional neutrality to something raw and complicated.

“do you know her?” the question came from a guest nearby, their curious tone laced with amusement.

the tension shattered. the murmurs began, the subtle shifts of the crowd as more guests turned to watch the unfolding spectacle. your voice was barely above a whisper, but it cut through the gathering noise like a blade.

“how long?”

ambessa stepped forward, her movements slow and deliberate, as if approaching a wounded animal. “it’s not what you think—”

“don’t,” you snapped, your voice trembling with anger and heartbreak. “don’t you dare lie to me.”

sevika tried to intervene, her hand reaching out as if to steady you, but you recoiled, your fury spilling over. “you both knew,” you said, your voice rising. “you knew, and you let me—”

sevika tried again."baby—"

"don't." the word came out hard and cold.

you backed away, your heels suddenly unsteady beneath you. the crowd parted like water, their whispers following you like shadows. you felt that your dress was transparent, exposing your body to the their ravaging gaze. you made it halfway down the marble steps before sevika caught your arm. her touch was warm, familiar—everything you'd grown to love and now couldn't bear.

"please," she said, her voice rough with something like desperation. she couldn’t possibly understand what it meant to be desperate. "please."

"let go of me." you tried to pull away, but she was stronger. had always been stronger.

"we never meant—"

"what?" your voice cracked. "to hurt me? to make me look like a fool? do you think i love being a loser? that i would be fine because i would view this as some way of knowing what it was like to win?" you yanked harder, and suddenly you were falling.

the puddle wasn't deep, but it was enough. your dress—ambessa's dress—soaked through instantly, clinging to your skin like shame. you stayed there on your hands and knees, watching your tears make ripples in dirty water.

"stand up," ambessa's voice came from behind you, softer than you'd ever heard it. “come inside. we can—”

"no." you pushed yourself to your feet, water streaming from ruined silk. your makeup was running—you could feel it tracking down your cheeks, and somehow that small detail destroyed you more than anything else. for the first time in a long time, you felt ugly. "i don’t want to come inside."

when you looked up, they were both there. ambessa's perfect composure had cracked, showing something raw underneath. sevika looked like she wanted to reach for you again but didn't dare.

"were you laughing about it?" your voice was barely audible. "about how pathetic i was, falling for both of you?"

"no," sevika said quickly. "god, no. we didn't even know—"

"until when?"

"a week ago," ambessa admitted. the truth fell between you, landed hard.

you stepped back, barefoot now, heels dangling from one hand. "oh my god. were you ever going to tell me?”

their silence was answer enough. the air around you grew thin.

a scream rose up from the depths of you before you could stop it, and echoed wildly from the sides of surrounding buildings. you clutched at your face, eyes screwing shut as you let out a terrible heaving noise. you knew they were seeing you now as you really were: a frantic girl who clasped desperately at whatever she could get in order to save herself.

“i hate you,” you screamed at them, hurling the words like they were knives. “i hate you! i never want you to speak to me again.”

it was rendered useless because the three of you knew that simply wasn’t the truth.

“just—leave me alone,” you said, your voice barely above a whisper.

their expressions were unreadable. if you gave in to your delusions, you could believe that ambessa looked slightly ill.

you walked away, legs shaking, each step carrying you further from everything you'd thought was real. behind you, you could hear them arguing in harsh whispers, but you didn't turn around. the city lights blurred through your tears until everything was just a soft shape and shadow.

your apartment felt suffocating when you returned, the silence oppressive in its stillness. you sank onto the couch, your dress pooling around you like a shroud. the tears came in waves, each one more relentless than the last.

you thought of ambessa’s calculated charm, sevika’s quiet strength, the way they’d both made you feel seen, cherished. and then you thought of the lies. you reached for your phone, your fingers trembling as you typed out a message. but no words came. what could you possibly say? that you hated them? you’d done that. that you missed them already? that you wouldn’t know how to exist without them?

instead, you deleted their numbers, one by one, the act feeling both liberating and excruciating. for the first time in what felt like forever, you were truly alone.

your mother was right. you were such a fun girl, but impossible to love. when someone looked at you, they’d never see someone worth settling down with. another wail unearthed itself, reverberating through the grave of your body. you twisted, holding yourself with your own arms as you felt the grief break you down.

you would never see them again. there was nothing worse than this, not now. you felt like you’d be better off dead.

ACT III: DEFORMATION.

ambessa hadn’t slept in days.

the boardroom’s fluorescent lights cast harsh shadows across her sharp features as she reviewed contracts she couldn’t focus on. every word blurred into the next, her thoughts returning to the look on your face when the truth unraveled.

“i don’t think i can fix this,” she had told sevika the night it happened, her voice hollow as they sat in the dim confines of her private office.

sevika hadn’t responded, her silence cutting deeper than any argument could. ambessa could tell her wife blamed her, and in some ways, she couldn’t disagree.

sevika, in response, buried herself in her work. her nights were spent overseeing global operations, her jaw clenched tight as she barked orders to underlings down the phone who didn’t dare question her unrelenting pace.

but even the chaos of the company’s industrial sprawl couldn’t drown out the memory of you. the sound of your pleausre haunted her—high and wispy as she ate at you. her dreams were vivid, stuck on the way you’d lit up when you talked about the things you loved—things she hadn’t known enough to ask about.

they’d both lost you, and they felt it in the empty spaces you’d left behind.

ambessa, meanwhile, pulled back. she gave the reins to her daughter for an indeterminate amount of time, something viewed as largely positive and a sign of trust. but those who knew her interpreted it as a sign of grave danger.

her days were spent much like yours, wrapped in the endless heart of her bed which she only left to sink underneath the soapy water of a warm bath. there were several evenings where sevika would stumble home, slightly drunk but coherent enough to check on ambessa and yank her from the bottom of the bath.

“no,” she rasped, her hand tight on ambessa’s thick wrist. “you face it.”

and you?

well, eventually you realized that the world would continue to move on. blessedly, your breakdown hadn’t hit the headlines or social media platforms. you knew this had to be the work of them, but it was the least you deserved. you cut all arrangements you had leftover. the gifts were boxed up and put into storage.

despite your dramatics, you reminded yourself to not be stupid. all cash you had kept was deposited into your bank account, in increments so it wasn’t flagged as suspicious. you had well over thousands, so you broke your lease and found a block several miles from where you used to be.

you’d invited clleo to live with you, but she’d refused citing her current suitor as her preferred living situation. she felt that he was the one, that they would marry. you felt your bitterness rise up, but you shot it right in the middle of its scaled head. you were happy for her, you said instead of “he doesn’t mean it. please don’t believe him.”

please send an invite.

she’d cupped your face and kissed your cheek. of course. you’ve been with me through everything.

so, you broke another lease and left the city.

ACT IV: REVIVAL.

true to her word, clleo did get married, and she did more than invite you. you were her maid of honor; the only bridesmaid at that. this meant that you were captured into a lavish gown that showed more skin than you thought would be appropriate.

“we can’t forget where we came from,” clleo had said coquettishly, pressing a soft kiss to your shoulder. she treated you so fragilely now, and you clung to it. you were pretending it was something else.

the wedding was a spectacle of opulence—ivory drapes cascading from every corner of the venue, chandeliers dripping crystal tears, and flowers so fragrant they felt like an embrace. the air buzzed with the cloying sweetness of a celebration meant to declare love eternal. you floated through it all, a wraith in your own right, bound by duty and the magnetic pull of clleo’s joy. you wore the dress she picked for you: black satin that crushed in on itself like paper whenever you moved and clung like sin, with lace so delicate it felt like a secret. it revealed too much and not enough all at once. you wondered if she’d done it on purpose, if she’d wanted you to stand out or to feel exposed. to embarrass you.

no, this was clleo. you were simply…paranoid now.

the ceremony was a blur, a kaleidoscope of vows and veils, of clleo’s radiant smile and the way her hand trembled in her husband’s. you caught the bouquet because she’d aimed it at you, her laugh like champagne bubbles bursting in the air. it was later, during the reception, that you felt it—that electric hum at the back of your neck, the awareness of being watched. you turned, and there they were.

ambessa and sevika.

they stood together, an impenetrable force against the crowd. ambessa’s gaze was as sharp as ever, her golden gown gleaming meanly, a study in power and restraint. sevika, beside her, had the air of someone caught between worlds, her hand resting on a glass of something dark, her eyes locked on you. they hadn’t been invited. you knew this because clleo would have warned you. yet here they were, as if summoned by the threads of some cruel, cosmic joke.

your stomach tightened, but you refused to look away. instead, you tilted your chin, the soft wave of your hair catching the light, and took a slow sip of wine. if they wanted to haunt you, they would have to work for it.

it didn’t take long. ambessa approached first, her steps deliberate, her presence cutting through the crowd like a blade. “you look beautiful,” she said, her voice low enough that it felt like a secret. you hated how your skin warmed under her gaze.

“you shouldn’t be here,” you replied, though the edge in your voice felt dull, worn down by something deeper.

sevika joined her then, her expression inscrutable but her proximity unnerving. “we needed to see you,” she said, her voice rougher, as if it cost her something to speak.

“at a wedding? how romantic.” you let the words hang, your lips curving into a smile that didn’t reach your eyes. “good thing it’s not mine.”

sevika’s lips twitched, and you scowled. your pain was not for her amusement.

“[name], we made mistakes,” ambessa said, and for the first time, there was something fragile in her tone, a crack in the glass. it distracted you from your ire. “but we haven’t stopped thinking about you.”

you set your glass down, your fingers trembling against the crystal stem. “i don’t think this is the time or place.”

“when is?” sevika countered, her voice steady but her eyes revealing something raw. “you’ve been avoiding us.”

“i said i never wanted to speak to either one of you again and yet, here you are,” you said, your voice sharper now, cutting through the haze of alcohol and longing. “do you think crashing a wedding will fix what you broke?”

ambessa’s jaw tightened, but she didn’t look away. “we’re not here to fix it. we’re here because we can’t let it end like this. and it’s not crashing if the groom extends an invite at the behest of the bride.”

your heart stuttered, and for a moment, the noise of the reception faded into a dull roar. clleo’s laughter rang out from somewhere behind you, a reminder of where you were, of what you’d tried so hard to rebuild. why did everyone betray you?

“i can’t do this,” you whispered, stepping back. the movement felt like tearing yourself in two.

“baby girl,” sevika said, her voice low, almost pleading. “look at me. this isn’t some big scheme, okay? let’s talk. we don’t even have to do it here. we can go anywhere you fucking want. just like before, mama.”

you shook your head, the weight of their words pressing against the fragile walls you’d built around yourself. “i need air,” you said, your voice barely audible, and before they could respond, you turned and slipped into the crowd.

“[name!]” ambessa called.

fuck being the tiger's bride, you were the tiger. you stood your ground, kept walking.

🥩 ˚ ༘ ೀ⋆｡˚𓃔

the gardens were quiet, the air cool against your skin as you leaned against the wrought-iron railing. the night sky stretched endlessly above you, an intricate canvas of stars that felt too indifferent to your pain. but the world wasn’t responsible for soothing you.

you’d thought the distance would help, that the cool air would clear your head, but instead, it only magnified the ache in your chest.

you heard them before you saw them, the soft crunch of gravel underfoot. you didn’t turn, didn’t acknowledge their presence, but you felt it—that charge, that unbearable pull that had slaughtered you repeatedly since the beginning.

“i didn’t ask you to follow me.”

“we’re not asking for forgiveness,” ambessa said, her voice soft but firm. “we are willing—we’re willing to take what we can get. we want to make this right.”

you turned then, your eyes meeting hers, and for the first time, you saw it—the vulnerability, the regret. sevika stood slightly behind her, her expression shadowed but her eyes fixed on you with the same intensity.

“and what does that look like?” you asked, your voice breaking despite yourself. “what could you possibly do to undo the damage?”

ambessa stepped closer, her hand hovering near yours but not quite touching. “we can’t undo it,” she admitted. “but we can promise to be better. to show you that you’re the only thing that matters.”

“you’re both so good with words. but words don’t mean anything if they’re not backed by action.” you laughed then, a bitter sound that cut through the stillness. “you always made me feel like i mattered. that’s why it hurt so much. i have no place between you.

sevika finally spoke, her voice quieter but no less resolute. “then let us prove it. on your terms.”

“you’re not good for me.”

ambessa glided forward, caught your chin inbetween her thumb and index finger.

“nothing in this world that we want with so much intensity will ever be good for us.”

you looked between them, your heart a battlefield between desire and self-preservation. the silence stretched, heavy with the weight of everything unsaid. finally, you broke out of her grasp, a small, tentative gesture that felt like stepping off a cliff.

“i have no place between you,” you said again, your voice barely more than a whisper.

sevika's shoulders sagged with disappointment, but ambessa’s lips curved into the faintest hint of a smile. she was like a bloodhound with weakness.

“is that what you want, lamb?” you looked up at her, sensing a shift in the air. “you want to be between us? coddled, warm, and safe?”

“ambessa—” sevika began, but the other woman held up a hand.

“you would’ve been fine if you had know that we were married from the beginning, hmm? is that it? your conscience would’ve been sated, right? because it’s not homewrecking or infidelity if the partners are aware of the others transgressions.”

“that’s not fair,” you snapped.

“mmm, well life isn’t. besides, you must be stupid if you think every client you’ve been with hasn’t once had someone waiting at home. this is your life, little lamb. your permanent affliction,” ambessa sneered. “i think you like it.”

you knew this game well. she pushed you, said the best things to make you act your worst. if you gave in, she won.

“fuck you, ambessa.”

“gladly,” she said with a small smile.

you scoffed, irritated beyond belief and moved to storm past her. by doing so, you gave her what she wanted. as you made an effort to leave, she cinched your waist with her arm and pulled you back into her chest. you could feel her breasts against your back, full and ripe like fruit.

“what are you doing?” you asked incredulously.

she didn’t answer, only hiked your dress up to press a ringed hand to your cunt. she held it there, groping the warmth of you until you were leaking in response. you let out a strangled squeal, legs kicking to no avail.

“see? you want us so badly. it’s like an instinct.”

you glanced at sevika, hoping for some fucking common sense but found her gazing at your lace-clad panties with something unfathomly angry lurking across her face.

“who the fuck gave you those?” she said quietly.

you stopped struggling, looking at her fully now. her stormy gaze lifted, piercing you like a spear through weak flesh.

“it wasn’t me, and ambessa never gifted you shit like this.”

“i had—i had other clients,” you answered and she rolled her shoulders, skulking forward. “but i bought these myself. i don’t see anyone else anymore. i can’t—i couldn’t. it was hard.”

her face softened at that, and she came closer. her large body covered the front of you, shielding your exposed body from any prying eyes. this meant that ambessa could slide the fabric to the side and dip a finger into your cunt. the slide was slick due to your drooling arousal, but the pain still startled you.

she was large, almost too much, but it seemed to burst a part of you that had been straining at its locks. you let loose a silent cry, shuddering desperately in her grasp as she explored you tenderly. sevika cooed, claiming your mouth in a bruising kiss.

“hold on,” she murmured into your mouth and you clutched onto her, gripping tighter as ambessa gave you over.

sevika walked you over to a small alcove, expertly hidden from immediate vision and grunted as she held you up with one arm—removing her jacket with the other. once the concrete floor was covered appropriately, she lowered you on top of it carefully.

you released her, but barely had a moment to thank her before she was on you. your first thought was that it was like before: relentless, tender, and crushing. her hands slid up your thighs until they grasped at your hips. you rocked into her, moaning softly as she squeezed the soft meat of your stomach. your breath came fast, labored and fueled by aching.

“it’s okay, baby. ‘m right here,” sevika said, her voice low and firm.

she pulled back, spreading your legs till the pink of your pussy was revealed to her hungry gaze. it winked at her, clenching around nothing the longer she looked.

“jesus, i’ve missed this,” she murmured.

you flushed, body pulsing hot with flame. from the side of you, ambessa came prowling. she lowered herself to her knees, back arching neatly as she crawled into the apex of your thighs. her mouth descended upon you with a fervor, her lips closing around your clit and sucking. your back bowed until you were practically hunched over her, hands in her thick hair.

she only adjusted herself so that she could better lick into you, her tongue lapping at every crevice of your cunt. you were dripping all over her face, hips bucking as you fucked forward onto her tongue. her hands came to cup the peach of your ass, squeezing and tugging until you felt like nothing more than a piece of meat. after a moment, ambessa pulled back and laughed as you tried to follow.

“sorry, little lamb, but i need to know if i’m doing a good job” she watched you, eyes sharp. “i know you are.”

you shivered at that, and she smiled. impatiently, you further opened your legs and pushed your sopping pussy toward her.

“c’mon. please.” when nothing happened, you let out a groan. “you’re doing a good job.”

“who’s doing a good job?” ambessa asked, moving closer.

you shivered again, your brain beginning to mottle and smear.

“you are, mommy.”

“fuck,” sevika groaned.

satisfied, ambessa suctioned her lips back over you. you let out a high moan, pushing your chest out. sevika reached over, tugging the bust down and exposing your tits. your nipples were straining toward her, so she dragged one in between your teeth. with a cry of surprise, you slammed your thighs closed around ambessa’s bobbing head. she did nothing to open them herself, only slapped a hand on your inner thigh to get you to correct yourself.

“yes, fuck,” you cried. “fuck, please. please. ohhhh.”

ambessa shook her head back and forth, letting herself get messy as she pushed her face deeper inside of your pussy. you were fully fucking her face now, your clit engorged and begging. whatever filter you’d had before was gone now; your mouth ran like water from a faucet.

“yeah. yeah, mommy, like that. eat your baby’s cunt. lick your girl’s pink little pussy.”

ambessa moaned, her nails digging into the skin of your ass. you bounced as much as you could, that warmth coiling deep inside your stomach. sevika was still teasing your tits, but she had a hand inside of herslef now—her pants pushed down for better access.

when you realized she was trying to rub one out, you came with a primal grunt. ambessa attempted to pull back but you kept her where she was with a firm hand at the nape of her neck. breathlessly, you coaxed sevika up for a kiss and then pulled her away by her hair.

“i want you to touch her,” you instructed. your voice was shaky as you edged toward your second orgasm.

it took her a minute to register what you meant and you watched her cheeks darken, her eyes flickering toward ambessa’s rippling back inbetween your legs and then back to you.

“i know you want to, sevi,” you murmured.

your mind was almost gone now; you were so close to heaven.

you could see her warring with herself, but you also knew her love for you would win out. with a curt nod, she moved until she was behind ambessa and lifted her dress until she was face to face with her naked ass. with an efficent movement, sevika pushed ambessa’s legs open so she could smell the musk of her large cunt. there was a moment where you weren’t sure if she would obey, but then she dived in—licking a large stripe between ambessa’s folds. you seized around ambessa’s tongue as she squealed in surprise, your orgasm pouring from you like honey.

you puhsed her off of you and crawled onto all fours, squatting slightly to make the push of your fingers easier as you entered yourself. despite not pleasuring you anymore, ambessa made no effort to move as sevika slapped a hand on her ass as she slurped at her pussy.

“holy shit,” ambessa muttered and you grinned.

“have you—have you touched each other like this before?” you asked, voice breaking as you reached that spot long your walls. “did you fuck when i left to try to stave the guilt?”

there was no answer, but ambessa stiffened. you laughed, bright and a little unhinged. it was confirmation that they’d thought about, but had never actually followed through. you were in a squatting position now, positioning your hips as you rode your own fingers. you wrist twinged in discomfort, but you were more determined to cum for a third time.

faster and faster, you rode. your head was turned up toward the ceiling of the alcove, your tits bouncing as you began to crest that wave. you closed your eyes, focusing on the shaky inhales of ambessa and the wet squelches of sevika feasting on her.

there was a pause, so you opened your eyes and found sevika flipping ambessa over so that the bigger woman sat on her face. like this, she was even more insatiable. she rocked ambessa back and forth on her face, spreading her own thighs weakly as heat cascaded through her.

you weren’t sure what did it: sevika’s newfound desperation to actually fuck her wife, ambessa’s unrelenting eye contact as she came, or the high whine sevika released when ambessa leaned back to fuck two fingers into her frantically pulsing cunt.

but whatever it was ravaged you. you screamed as you came for the third time, legs trembling as you squirted all over yourself and sevika’s suit jacket. the comedown was impossible. you were incoherent, moaning wildly as the pleasure possessed you.

you heard them both scrambling to move toward you, but you held a hand out. your neck bent, your body settling onto all fours like a lame animal as you let your cunt flutter and clench through the remnants of your orgasm. your chest heaved frantically, but you were euphoric. you’d done it, reached Heaven and taken control.

you glanced up at them and know from the look on their faces, you’ve never been this beautiful. if this was what the french called a little death, you wanted to die forever.

“this is your place,” ambessa said hoarsely. “you belong right in the center. you are the only one who understands. you are our center.”

sevika lay next to her, and she said nothing for a long while. then her face turned toward you. you met her gaze unflinching.

“baby girl, please. please.”

you thought you were the loser.

“it has to be different,” you finally said. the two women broke into identical smiles. “it has to be. i want you to be transparent with me. i’m not a little child.”

you thought you were down for the count.

“like you said,” you continued, staring right at them. “you are my life. this is my life.”

but here you were, the last woman standing.

⚚ special taglist: @venusiandyke @thatonetargaryen @drgnflyteabox @y2kas13 @baeumonde @blackdykegirlblogger @slut4sevika @sevikasllver @indigopearl96 @dut1fuldyk3 @imheadintothemountains @bambishaven @kirammansbow @sidefanficaccounttohidemyshame @nightlyconfusion @sevikasrightboob @half-of-a-gay @nsfwruru @yourlovesicklibra @tnash-tammy @sweetcinnamoncookie6 @bluferret @doppelman @savedforlaterr @sevikasserafim @fruitfulfashion @soniiyi @namuranguinhos @16novvs @bubblestrbls @spidercat-soccerfan @pllduniverse @sugrcookiiee @iwasholic @sevslefthand @starting6over @fxngsfxgxrty @leone007 @ambessaswhore @jvalentinelvr @bella-goths-wife @maaaaaaaaaaari @elena0497 @powderpinkandsweeet @sweetcinnamoncookie6 @pearldaisy @sevikas-whore @wolfessa @lazyartizt

2K notes · View notes

bootycallin · 16 days ago

Text

thinking bout how the arcane women kiss… ‹𝟹 ft; vi, caitlyn, sevika, jinx, mel. ⋮ cw: wlw/men dni. little suggestive ig but ultimately sfw. brief mentions of blood. honestly there’s not a lot else. spit? idk

𑁤 vi's kisses were much rougher when she’s right out of prison. final vi is gentler. except, vi is still violet in her essence. her kisses may be a little slower and last longer, but there’s a constant undercurrent of need that she can’t (and doesn’t try to) hide. her lips aren’t the only thing kissing you, as her hands roam in a reverent way such that it feels like her fingertips kiss your body.

𑁤 caitlyn's kisses are brief, but meaningful. it’s not that she doesn’t want to kiss you. she would spend her life with her lips locked on yours if she could. the thing is, she’s a busy woman. even when receding from the role of general and giving her spot on the council to someone else, she’s still the sheriff, and she has the schedule of one. but, her kisses do enough as to remind you that you’re always occupying the forefront of her mind, taking any leftover thoughts she may have while working. she kisses passionate, but has to pull away just as quick, a promise she’ll be back for more when she can.

𑁤 sevika’s kisses are possessive—and very. she kisses like she wants to swallow you whole, or like she wants you to swallow her. she’s quick to slip her tongue into your mouth and down your throat. when you pull away, she bites your lips, tugging hard enough to make you think she’s gonna draw blood. she never does, but she leaves enough of a mark with your lips swollen and red, marking you as hers.

𑁤 jinx is as chaotic with you as she is with her bombs. what else did you expect? she is jinx, after all. she just barely can touch your lips. her kisses are all tongue and teeth and spit. she bites and she growls like a dog, slobbers over you cause she can’t help herself, bites your lip so hard she can taste your blood. if sevika seems like she wants to swallow you, jinx makes it very clear. she’s not like this only when she’s kissing your mouth, she’s like this kissing anywhere—licks up your neck, bites your cheeks, anywhere she can reach. she wants to taste you—all of you.

𑁤 mel is an orderly woman. much like caitlyn, she really doesn’t have a lot of time. unfortunately. she’s dealt with enough. she usually isn’t the one initiating intimacy, so you have to kiss first. mel’s kisses are slow, gentle, but reverent. nearly worshipful. you’re her one safe haven, her safety net, her calm after the storm, and she treats you like so; one hand tangling into the back of your head, threading fingers through hair, keeping you close. one thing about mel is that when she starts, she can’t really stop. she wants to keep going and going and going. but ultimately, you pull away, and she’s left with a little smile, as if saying you caught me. you know, and she knows you know, you’re her true treasure.

.ᐟ.ᐟ honorable mention:

𑁤 ambessa isn’t much of a kisser. she’s a medarda, a noxian most of all. she’s not known to be gentle, not by anybody, and not by you. ambessa kisses the way she fights. she takes, and that’s all she does. tongue down your throat, just barely giving you time to realize she’s kissing you. her kisses are brief, but enough to leave you breathless and gasping. her kisses are never expected, and that’s how she likes it; she likes leaving you breathless, surprised, and probably a little needy—she’s confident in her abilities.

𝄃𝄃𝄂𝄂𝄀𝄁𝄃𝄂𝄂𝄃 © bootycallin on tumblr. do not copy, translate or cross post without permission. ᛝ

#╰┈➤BOOTYCALLIN⨾#𝟷𝟷:𝟷𝟷 ⋮ blurbs .#lesbian #arcane x female reader #arcane vi x reader #vi x reader #mel medarda x reader #caitlyn kiramman x reader #caitlyn x reader #sevika x reader #sevika x fem reader #jinx x reader #jinx x fem!reader #jinx x female reader #ambessa x reader #ambessa x fem reader #arcane x reader #x reader

683 notes · View notes

cheyisagirlkisser · 3 months ago

Text

Being Ambessa’s servant. 18+ content below.

Much like in battle, Ambessa has a bravado when it comes to sex. She likes to fight with a confident aura, and it takes a lot to affect her. Same applies to how she takes her pleasure. Your mouth over her, desperate and needy to taste every inch of her skin.

“Greedy, are we?”, she muses, though she enjoys it.

You only hum in response, mouth finding her pussy to make out with it. Ambessa is like a fine wine, and her taste explodes in your mouth like the sweetest berry or the tangiest orange, juices coating your chin because you are just so sloppy.

Ambessa doesn’t have to guide your mouth much, you seem to have an enthusiasm that takes care of itself. Your tongue works over her clit, and she only takes it in stride, as if she is hardly affected.

She is wise and calculated, and that comes with how she treats you. Always letting you tend to her like a servant, letting you follow her around like a lost puppy, and all of it is for a taste. Never kisses or embraces, but sensual massages that soothe her muscles or your tongue deep inside her pussy, maybe with yours grinding on her face if she is feeling giving.

Only when her body shivers with the waves of an orgasm does she let herself go, groaning and tugging at your hair. However, when it’s over..

“Off, little one.” Pulling your mouth away from her body despite your protests.

#ambessa medarda #arcane ambessa #arcane #ambessa x reader #ambessa x fem reader #lesbian #wlw

795 notes · View notes

kdyq · 3 months ago

Note

Hi, I got to know your blog recently and I loved your writing, your story of Ambessa x pregnant reader gave me an idea. What do you think of a modern au (or in the series setting if you prefer) Ambessa solo mom. Where she meets the reader and sees that the relationship between the two is getting more serious and decides to introduce formally to her children, I imagine them younger but if you want with them older it would be great too!! ❤️

A piece of her world.

AU! Milf!Ambessa x Fem!reader

context: You and Ambessa meet at a art gallery and a month later Ambessa wants the relationship to deepen by introducing you to her two kids Kino and Mel at dinner.

The first time you met Ambessa she gave off an effortlessly commanding presence drew attention the moment she entered the room. It was at a small art gallery downtown where you’d been helping a friend organize an opening. She was hard to miss her tall regal figure dressed in a tailored dark cherry red suit her sharp gaze sweeping the room as though sizing up a battlefield. What started as a simple conversation over drinks turned into dinner dates late night talks and an undeniably connection.

Months later you found yourself deeply in love with the woman who somehow balanced happiness and tenderness with ease. Still there was a part of her life she’d carefully kept at arm’s length her children.

She had spoken of them occasionally Kino her thoughtful and bookish eldest, and Mel her sarcastic and optimistic youngest. But she kept that part of her life separate not out of secrecy. But out of a deep sense of protection it doesn’t mean she didn’t trust you it’s just a motherly instinct of hers.

But it all changed one crisp Saturday morning when she invited you over for dinner.

“I think it’s time you met my children ”she said over the phone with a steady tone.

Your heart skipped a beat. “Really?”

“I wouldn’t ask if I wasn’t sure” she replied. “You’ve become important to me and I think they need to see that.”

You smiled touched by her words. “I’d love to meet them.”

When you arrived at Ambessa’s house it was every bit as grand as you’d imagined modern and elegant with high ceilings grand decor and wide windows that let sunlight flood the space.

Ambessa greeted you at the door dressed casually for once in a fitted sweater and dark jeans. She looked calm but the slight tension in her posture betrayed her nerves.

“You’re nervous” you teased gently stepping inside.

She huffed crossing her arms. “I’m not nervous.”

“Liar” you said with a smile leaning up to kiss her cheek. “It’ll be fine.”

The sound of approaching footsteps echoed through the hallway and two figures stepped into the room. Kino appeared first tall and composed at eighteen with a quiet confidence that made him seem older than his years.

His dark locks in a back ponytail his brown eyes landed on you. He paused for a moment studying you in a way that felt both cautious and intrigued.

“You must be [Your Name] Kino said his tone even but polite as if he were testing the waters.

“I am” you replied matching his calm energy with a warm smile.

“And you must be Kino.”

He nodded a flicker of amusement crossing his face as his lips went into a faint smirk. “Mama talks about you. A lot.”

“Does she?” You glanced at Ambessa who stood just behind him arms crossed and exuding her usual composed demeanor.

But there was a hint of softness in her expression a subtle pride as she observed the interaction. “Good things I hope?”

“She said you’re smart and funny” Kino replied his tone teasing just enough to make you smile.

Before you could respond a smaller figure darted into the room behind him. Mel at fifteen moved with a youthful energy that contrasted sharply with her brother’s calm demeanor. Though she was only a few inches shorter than Kino her presence was just as commanding her green eyes flicking between you and her mother before finally settling on you.

“So” Mel said leaning casually against the doorway with a playful smirk “you’re the one who’s been stealing all of Mom’s attention.”

“That’s me” you said with a light laugh your gaze meeting hers. “I hope that’s not a problem.”

Mel tilted her head studying you with an intensity that reminded you of Ambessa though hers had a mischievous edge. “We’ll see.”

Kino groaned rolling his eyes as he turned to his sister. “Mel seriously can you not?”

“What?” Mel shrugged her smirk growing. “I’m just saying—”

“You’re gonna scaring them off” Kino cut her off with a sigh giving you a look that said this was a regular occurrence.

Mel opened her mouth to make a comeback but Ambessa’s voice cut through the playful tension like a blade. “Enough Mel.”

Mel held up her hands in mock surrender though the mischievous twinkle in her eye remained.

Before the back and forth could escalate even more Kino turned back to you and gestured toward the living room. “Come on” he said his voice quieter now almost shy.

“I want to show you something. Mom told me you like books and I’ve been putting together a library.”

Your eyebrows lifted in surprise genuinely touched by the offer. “I’d love to see it.”

As he led you out of the room Mel lingered behind with Ambessa. She crossed her arms her smirk softening as she glanced at her mother. “She’s better than the last one” she muttered under her breath.

Ambessa raised an eyebrow at her daughter. “Mel.”

“What? I’m just saying.”

From the doorway Ambessa watched it all unfold with a quiet intensity. Her expression softened as she observed how naturally you fit into her world. The way Kino opened up to you the ease with which you handled Mel’s sarcasm it all struck a chord deep within her. For someone so fiercely protective of her family seeing this dynamic felt like a rare moment of peace as if the pieces of her life were finally aligning.

You glanced back at her catching her eye as Kino chatted excitedly about his favorite books. She gave you a small nod In her way of saying she was glad you were here.

Ambessa watched it all unfold with a quiet intensity her expression softening as she saw how naturally you fit into her world.

After dinner you and Ambessa retreated to the back patio the stars glittering above as the cool night air wrapped around you. She poured two glasses of Syrah red wine her usual strong composure giving way to something more vulnerable.

“You were amazing with them” she said her voice low but full of emotion.

“They’re incredible kids” you replied leaning into her side. “You’ve done an amazing job with them.”

She exhaled softly her arm wrapping around your shoulders. “It hasn’t been easy ”she admitted.

“Especially after their father went away. But they’re my world.”

“You don’t have to do it alone anymore ” you said your voice gentle but firm.

Ambessa looked at you her eyes searching yours. For a moment you saw the vulnerability she so rarely let show the weight of years spent carrying the burden of being both mother and protector.

“I know”she said softly her hand brushing against your cheek. “And I’m glad it’s you.”

You stayed like that for a long time wrapped in each other’s warmth as the future stretched out before you and filled with endless possibilities.

“THE END”

AN/ TYSM @baesye for requesting this i hope I brought your vision to life. I never really thought about doing an AU ambessa x fem reader story but in the near future I will definitely make more stories in a AU once again tysm 🙏🏾🙌🏾.

+ I’m running out of photos for Ambessa so ima have to reuse them and I can’t draw for shit so I gotta do what a what girl gotta do 😭🤷🏾‍♀️.

#arcane #ambessa league of legends #ambessa medarda #ambessa x reader #arcane ambessa #arcane x reader #arcane x you #mel and ambessa #ambessa x you #ambessa the chosen of the wolf #mel medarda #kino medarda #kino arcane #mel arcane #alternate universe #x fem!reader #x female reader #black fem reader

447 notes · View notes

ruinedsapphic · 4 months ago

Text

my takes on arcane characters with fem reader

caitlyn kiramman who whenever ur getting more bratty by the second she literally tapes a vibrator right on your clit and ties ur hand together and watches you without touching you once

vi who holds both sides of your head while pushing her strap into you, saying how mean she is while you sob on her cock, “vi’s just so mean to you, no?”

sevika who uses her mech hand on your cunt, keeping a serious face while she watches you fuck yourself on the mechanical arm on the highest vibration setting…

cassandra kiramman who doesn’t like to get her hands messy so she uses her mouth, crazy ahh mouth game..

ambessa medarda who’s rough for no reason.. pushing your head into the pillows and rutting into you from the behind. Your head hitting the headboards once in awhile

Mel medarda who’s sweet with you though a little teasing :3 highly into foreplay..

#lesbian #fem reader #arcane #sevika x reader #ambessa league of legends #ambessa x reader #mel medarda #mel x reader #vi x reader #cassandra kiramman

529 notes · View notes

tojisbestslut · 9 days ago

Text

YOUR GIRL — [ambessa medarda x afab reader] part 2

∆ CONTAINS: mommy issues, praise, slightly mean/dom ambessa, strap usage, slapping. masterlist

I wish I was your girl — Lana Del Rey • [WC: 700]

She filled the void in your soul you had tried burring deep for years, no success left in sight. The comfort warming your body under her gaze was the perfect experience for your inner child, not having an older woman judge her with disgust like your mother used to. Yet again, she wouldn't look at you with affection, ambessa medarda didn't believe anyone was worthy of that, besides her own children of course.

But it was something about the fact that she was aware of your hard work, noticing you here and there through training, nodding her head slightly in approval where you'd land a good hit (one that had you crying from the pain of your muscles afterwards). It gives you a tingle in your stomach and a warmth in your heart, you were absolutely feeding off of it with no shame. Ambessa medarda was a powerful woman, and to be approved by her was, well, an honor you could say.

But things got different when she started to notice this little emotional rollercoaster you had created in your head. At first you felt insecure about it, feeling like someone found your hideout, your comfort place, and was aiming to destroy it. Your eyes would sparkle like usual as she praised your improvement, and this time, she'd slightly smirk and raise an eyebrow at the stupid happy girl standing in front of her all smiling and giggling, and that caught you off guard. She found it amusing. She had people drooling over her just for the sake of having sex, but this, seeking her attention and approval just to feel enough was something new, and she was willing to walk into it, curious where it'd end.

You sighed, the sound muffled from biting your lower lip. Seeking approval from the older woman made you listen to her so carefully, even when she was pounding into you like there's no tomorrow.

"You're being so good for me," she hummed, dragging the tip of her nose through your neck, licking the little gap between your collarbones. "Being so quiet, I appreciate it" the movement of her hips keep being steady as your thighs spam uncontrollably.

She seemed so nonchalant about the whole situation, not being out of breath even a little, the sides of your hip turning slightly red from her strong grip. You on the other hand, were trying to look at her gorgeous face through tears, vision blurred and small white dots appearing randomly everywhere.

"Shhh, it's ok" she mumbled in your ear, voice sounding like a lullaby "everything's fine" your breath hitched as she increased the speed of her pounding, filling you so good you felt like you'd die from the pleasure "you're gonna be fine" her deep voice ran through your ears, tingling your fuzzy brain in the best way possible. You felt sleepy at her comfortable voice, eyes slightly closing.

"Don't" a harsh smack was delivered to your right cheek, your eyes widening in process. Sitting up straight again, she kept thrusting into you as her dark gaze took in the helpless look in your face. "You don't sleep when I'm pleasuring you" words tried slipping out of your mouth, being replaced by stupid, barely audible nonsense your foggy mind tried making up.

Your back arched further as you reached your high, closing your eyes in the process and throwing your head back. She finished by delivering a few deep thrusts, staring at the milky liquid spamming out of your abused hole, covering the tip of her strap. Loosening the grip on your hips, your body instantly went limb on the bed, still shaking.

She grabbed your smaller body and caged you between her muscular arms, kissing your damp hair with affection. "My beautiful girl," she'd mumble, her hands creasing your shivering back "You did so well" and that was enough for you to smile ear to ear in her chest, giggling internally at feeling truly fulfilled.

ambessa medarda please beat me [TAGS]:

237 notes · View notes

madewithsilk · 5 days ago

Text

Wife!Ambessa drabble 𝜗𝜚 cw; mommy kink, marriage, tribbing, virginity loss

Wife!Ambessa taking your virginity after the honeymoon and feeling as if you were so fragile, she has to take it slowly and gently.

Her hands cradled your face as her cunt pressed harder against yours, trying to make you enjoy this with incredible dedication. She grunted into your ear, hair loose and kinky curls sticking to the sweat on her forehead. She looked so beautiful above you, fucked out expression on both of your faces.

Your head was thrown back, scratching her back as both of your bodies were held against one another. It felt so amazing, especially for your first time, but Ambessa was treating you like glass. Your little whimpers pleased her, allowing her to press kisses to your exposed neck. "Can you take it, dear?" She groans out into your neck with fervor in her kisses.

You nod mindlessly, reassuring her that a little force wouldn't hurt you. Her clit was rutting against yours, her bush moving in tandem with yours. She was a strong, broad woman, it was noticeable how much she was restricting herself. "Please— n-need- need to take it,"

She loved how you pleaded for more, it made her pussy for much wetter, practically sopping against yours. Her entrance closed and clenched around nothing while fisting your hair for leverage, humping your cunt.

Scratching at her back, leaving marks from your manicured nails, did nothing more but turn her on further. You were a whimpering mess, clit swollen and achy for relief. She was so close to exploring, to taking what she wanted with no remorse. "Ah- ah ah, 'Bessa, fu-fuck,"

“Mommy, please,” Ambessa let out a loud moan at your words, groping your tits and swaying her hips quicker. She needed to need you a crying, cumming mess. Her hips had a relentless pace, downright filthy squelching noises emitting from your wet cunts.

The movement was erratic, grinding into you like a woman in heat. Your hands traveled to her biceps, begging for relief. “Uhhhh- sto- mo-mommy—” She kissed you, sloppy and reward-worthy kissing. A knot bundled up in your tummy and it never felt this severe when you touched yourself. Her pussy was so damn wet.

“Take it, you can take it,” Her cum dripped all over your pussy in white spurts yet she didn't stop till you came too, the clearish liquid soaking her abdomen and cunt. You were embarrassed, covering your face in humiliation as Ambessa cooed. “Shh, shhh,” She moved your arm, kissing the places you previously hid on your face lovingly.

854 notes · View notes

reneesghostinthelivingroom · 3 months ago

Text

Ambessa Medarda Masterlist

Most Trusted

-with a slow morning, reader encourages Ambessa to stay in bed with her. Allowing her more time to admire her body. Scars and all.

(established relationship.)

Rest, My Darling

-when in a meeting, Ambessa hears something outside the door where reader was posted. What could have happened?

(established relationship.)

206 notes · View notes

mothekko · 2 months ago

Text

Her woman.

Where Ambessa demands your attention after a long trip.

Ambessa Medarda x fem!reader Warnings: alcohol drinking, buff reader, reader is implied to be lesbian, slightly sub!ambessa, fluff, no-smut, kisses<3 mwah mwah. Word count: 968.

notes: ambessa my beloved (not just mine but of course my best friend's beloved too), i had this idea yesterday when she cried cause every reader is always the girly girl type, never a big woman with big everything (including her arms 😛), anyway, enjoy reading as I did writing :3 xoxo

MEN AND MINORS DO NOT INTERACT

Ambessa was not a fragile lady, no. She was far from this. First, she was the type of mercilessly war dog everyone heard about. Her fingers were not as delicate as some women tried to imagine.

Oh, and you knew it. You knew her hands were stronger than any other woman you ever had an affair with. She was delicate, but rough. She was firm and strong, and for God’s sake, you could listen to all the girls and boys in the whole Noxus almost moaning for her, just by seeing her walk on the streets. She didn't pay too much attention, she had her business with you. She came back from war, her fatigue was noticeable in her letters, and you analyzed them perfectly, all of them.

As much as you knew about her weariness, she always asked you for a visit, and how could you deny the woman who gave you your position as high guard in Noxus? The more time passed, your attention was drawn to the dark streets of Noxus, scantily clad women didn't attract you, even though it was the complete opposite for you and they sometimes tried to attach themselves to your belt, along with the axe and sword that were in the hem of your pants and back. The icy wind touched your hair, two braids made by the war general framed your face. It wasn't usual for you to leave your hair loose, but after weeks, or months, without seeing each other, the braids were Ambessa's only request.

You looked across the horizon, all the tents closed and quiet, but that one... that central one, which you knew who was inside; the candles flickering in the air were warming someone. Ambessa was waiting for you. As you approached the place, your muscles tensed in suspicion as you entered the tent. You sighed and Ambessa looked back, a smile from her brightened up her face. A woman like her? Smiling? You're lucky.

“Night, ma’am…” You said, the smell of alcohol around the place was a little too much this time, but well, it’s Ambessa, after all. “Too much to handle this time? Or drinking for fun?”

She didn’t answer you, not like she usually does. She silently invited you to sit next to her, moving the wine bottle to the side on the floor. Cautiously you walked through the tent, until you reached her side, and before you could even sit down, she settled her head on your waist. Her mind was heavy with thoughts.

Ambessa without her usual clothes, smiling, and laying her head on you? Of course something was wrong. But this kind of wrong is not so bad, not at all. At least she was showing some affection.

“Listen, darling… don’t ask any questions today… I just want you to be good for me.” She said, she doesn’t look drunk. Does she? “These months without you made me so bored, you know…”

You kindly touched her hair, asking yourself what you should do in that situation.

“Ma’am, you’re not drunk, are you?” You laughed, looking a little closer. You touched her face, checking her eyes, and suddenly, she removed your hand and sighs deeply.

“You know me too well, sugar. Maybe I should pretend harder next time…” You finally felt like everything was okay, she was lying and that’s all. “Are you gonna sleep here tonight?” she took a sip of wine “Or will I wake up with a boy calling me out for being too sleepy?”

A sigh escaped your lips, a frustrated sigh now. You looked straight at her, sitting by her side.

“Listen, ma’am, I always told them to send a woman to wake you up, look at me, do I look like someone who likes any kind of boy here?” She shook her head. “That’s what I thought. And, who said you’re too sleepy? These boys around here have no fucking respect for you…”

You pulled the woman closer, holding her tightly. She was warmer than you, obviously because you were outside thirty minutes ago, but still, that makes your heart skip a beat. Again you move your hands to her cheek, and she looks at you with those shining eyes.

“What a beautiful woman I see…” You said. And then, you gently kissed her lips, in a simple way. You used to kiss each other, nothing new. But it was definitely special this time. You felt like it was. Her hands, which had been resting on her thigh, now moved up so that they could rest on your waist. “Won’t you tell me about your…”

She shut you with a finger to your lips, kissing you again calmly, caressing your war scarred face. Your arms, which were a bit stronger than hers, held her against your body, feeling how fast her heart was beating.

“I have to be careful… or you’ll become stronger than me, imagine if they put you in my place?” She made you chuckle softly, moving a hand down to rest on her back.

“You’re making no sense, ma’am. I could never replace you. But I’m happy you noticed…”

“Well… I always notice, sweetheart.” She gave you a peck on the lips, snuggling into your chest. “You’re my woman, and I know when you get stronger.”

She said it so casually, with her closed eyes as if she was almost asleep; you wouldn’t doubt it. She had just arrived from a long trip after all.

“Your woman…? Mhm… yeah, you’re definitely sleepy. Goodnight, ma’am… I’ll wake you up tomorrow…”

You could hear a “finally” coming from her as she snuggled into your body. You picked her up, taking the woman to the bed, blowing the candles, pulling the blankets over you, finally spooning her from behind and nuzzling her neck.

#ambessa medarda x reader #Ambessa Medarda #Arcane #Ambessa x fem reader #arcane ambessa #ambessa league of legends #Ambessa Arcane #Ambessa x reader #Ambessa fluff #ambessa x you #arcane2 #arcane series #arcane season 2 #arcane s2 #arcane league of legends #league of lesbians

373 notes · View notes

kissingmilfs · 7 days ago

Text

⟢ 𝒘𝒉𝒊𝒔𝒌𝒆𝒚 𝒔𝒕𝒂𝒊𝒏𝒆𝒅 𝒌𝒊𝒔𝒔𝒆𝒔 | 𝒔𝒆𝒗𝒊𝒌𝒂 𝒙 𝒓𝒆𝒂𝒅𝒆𝒓 𝒙 𝒂𝒎𝒃𝒆𝒔𝒔𝒂 ⟢

18+ minors and men please dni

content warnings: alcohol, cunnilingus, fingering, clitorial stimulation, sex w/a strap, light choking/biting

⋆˚✿˖°જ⁀➴⋆˚✿˖°જ⁀➴⋆˚✿˖°જ⁀➴⋆˚✿˖°જ⁀➴⋆˚✿˖°જ

you’d had such a wreck of a day at work. the files your boss spent all week waiting for never showed up. and naturally it became everyone’s problem. including yours. you don’t even work directly underneath her. but for the rest of the day you were somehow solving her problems while trying to get your own work done. overtime is generally something you avoid. yes, the extra few hundred dollars were nice but surely not at the expense of your sanity. thankfully tomorrow was saturday. thankfully you worked in a “swanky and up and coming” part of the city.

a bar, your co-workers recommended frequently, sat at the corner up the block from your office building. the sounds of your steps were swallowed by the traffic surrounding you and the other pedestrians having lively conversations. it took no effort to locate the bar. maneuvering through glass and gold trimmed swivel doors—your eyes were forced to adjust to the low lighting of the bar. it is not the usual dive bar of your somewhat forgotten college days. the bar glittered with gold and black accents. marble decorated the space tastefully and almost inconspicuously.

despite the upscale location and vibe, you prayed none of the white collar men would take it upon themselves to acquaint their cigarette breath with your personal space. the space was busy, but not crowded. you’d normally indulge in sitting at the far end of the bar. tonight such familiarity isn’t plausible.

you sling your coat over the back of chair before settling into it. your manicured clean cut nails tap idly on the bar top. most bars are sticky and smell painfully of beer. everything here is kept to fine precision. as you take in the rest of your surroundings, it’s clear the owner(s) took a keen attention to detail.

a voice breaks your train of thoughts and the silence. “anything to drink? or just looking?”

your eyes instinctively begin to roll but as you redirect your attention towards the voice—your innate reaction comes to a pause. if you lacked a little less decorum, your jaw might have hung open at the sheer amount of woman across from you. she absentmindedly polished wine glasses while awaiting your response. her grey eyes dont necessarily pierce into yours but she is carefully considering you.

the fingers tapping the bar top pause. “what’s good here?” it’s the only response you can muster.

the bartender laughs casually and effortlessly throws the drying rag across her shoulder. “everything and anything. i’m the best bartender in town.”

“not sporting that bourgeoisie, mixologist, tag then?”

she barks out another laughter. “no. i don’t need a fancy variation of bartender to prove myself. come on. what’s to drink?”

you sigh and shrug. “honestly i’m not sure. i’m a little exhausted making my own decisions. how about you surprise me?”

“surprise?” her eyes track your disposition and the pouty lips as your own eyes survey the entirety of the back wall of liquor. “any preference to our expanse of liquor?”

your index and middle finger wedge between your platinum black credit card and id in the chest pocket of your suit jacket. sliding the payment and identification across the bar smoothly until they’re grazing brown fingertips. “something strong. i’ve had a long day at work.”

the bartender is somewhat surprised by the confidence displayed. not that she had pegged you as a damsel in distress. a woman who confidently sports a tailored three piece suit with a complementary coat isn’t an unusual member of the bar. your air of nonchalantness and casual surveillance of your surroundings draws her in. and when you, oh so casually, mentioned zero interest in decision making…it was almost as if a trap was set. a game launched.

“one surprise me drink then.”

within seconds she has flourished away and her hands grab speedily at different shelves. your eyes remained intently focused on the blur of movements. you attempt to track the ingredients but it’s futile. after a few minutes, she pours a umber liquid into a whiskey glass. leaning over, you smell the notorious notes of expensive ass whiskey. and something sweet.

“what is it?” you inhale another whiff.

the bartender pours the rest of the contents into a shot glass and shrugs. “try it. see if you can guess.”

you lift your eyes through your eyelashes. “okay…” you cautiously wrap your fingers around the glass and take a diligent sip. the flavors tingle on your tongue. you were right about the subtle sweetness. the whiskey doesn’t have the usual warmth coating your throat. well, it’s not as noticeable. instead your skin intakes the warmth and the first sip is reminiscent of a rum cake.

“holy shit.” you exclaim with pure genuine awe. “okay, um, whiskey, yes?” the bartender smirks and nods. “okay…it’s kind of sweet. cinnamon maybe? or nutmeg?”

her smirk shifts into an authentic smile almost revealing one of her canines. “no, but close. we make our own vanilla extract. i might’ve indulged and scraped a tiny amount of the soaked bean into the shaker.”

your eyes widen with the revelation. authentic vanilla beans are expensive and hard to come across unless you know someone. “that’s…woah, okay. what else did you put in here?”

“a little of this and a little of that. continue sipping and think on it. i’ve got other customers.” she tips her head towards the end of the bar. you can tell her tone isn’t rude or one of dismissal. if anything you believe she’s almost overindulging you.

as you take deliberate sips of the drink, you find yourself unable to pull away from the sight of the bartender. your eyes drink in the way her muscles move as she tosses the ingredients in a shaker. they threaten to burst around the sleeve of her plain black t-shirt. she grips her instruments of choice with such suave and ease. using either elbow, flesh or prosthetic, to hit the edge of the shakers for that satisfying popped release.

by the time you’re finished with the drink—you’ve worked through countless cheesy pickup lines and flirty innuendos all in your head. but before you can grace your words on her ears—a woman—no a creation of the gods—commands the entire presence of the bar. she must stand far over six feet. her dark skin glistening with a sheen she must’ve taken precise effort to massage into her skin. her muscles are perfectly sculpted and crafted as if by a potter’s gentle touch. and the dress?

mothers above the dress. who was the lucky son of a bitch who wove that fabric around her shoulders and breasts? the deep red and luxurious cotton threatening to fuse with her radiant skin. she certainly is not a real woman. she must be an apparition of everyone’s mind. some ethereal being projecting an unattainable image for us. yet as she approaches the bar with almost a mission in mind—you come to the realization the only seats are opposite you. one drink of the glorious concoction isn’t enough to even allow yourself near her presence.

as you deliberate whether to flag the bartender down again, the goddess herself, encroaches on your space. her perfume twirls around your noise. the familiar scent of coco butter overwhelms yet comforts you. her hand on your shoulders almost produces an embarrassing moan.

“may i sit beside you, sweetheart?” her words are perfectly enunciated and in an unrecognizable accent. or maybe it’s simply the drawl of the words.

you nod without any hesitation. there’s no denying a woman such as herself. you could not fathom a world in which she’s ever heard the word, no. her smile is almost mischievous as she accepts the non-verbal response. you witness her dress move as second skin as she effervescently sits. her golden eyes meet yours with such intensity you hold a breath. her face spreads into such a wide grin. you hadn’t realized how audible your swallow was. you would not have caught on to it until much, much later in the future.

“ambessa. pleasure to meet you.” her golden bracelets jingle against each other as she extends her hand.

you stare dumbfounded at the hand before remembering. her name rings in your heard over and over. “pleasure is all mine. i’m y/n.”

ambessa regards you with a tilt of her head. you can feel each inch of your skin on fire where her eyes trail towards to then away. then she lets out a hum. a satisfied hum. “i see. i’ve yet to meet you before.”

“i’m usually more comfortable drinking a glass of wine at dinner than drinking at any sort of bar. but i must admit it…this isn’t your normal bar.”

“indeed it isn’t.”

your brain works far too hard to think of something else to say. instead you awkwardly sip the melted ice and last whispers of the drink. you cringe internally when it makes that god-awful sucking noise as it reaches the final drops. within seconds, the empty glass is swapped out with a new drink. two drink straws dangle from your lips as you look up at the hand replacing it. you manage a faint, thank you, smile.

without warning, the bartender’s fingers guide the straws out from the grasp of your lips. “i know we’re supposed to care about the environment. so i’ll let ya keep the straws if you’re feeling attached.”

your cheeks, without second thought, burn with the irresistible urge to break out into a smile and giggle helplessly. you’re not one to shy away from the advances of beautiful women. you’re confident in your abilities to flirt and flirt back. yet it’s something tonight…something you’re unable to place your fingers on.

“i’ll, uh, let you have it.” you shake your head instantly to take the words back. “throw it away, i mean.”

your bartender only graces you with a chuckle before departing again. the next thing she does—you are certain it’s a hallucination. without hesitation pops one of your used straws between her teeth. as if it’s a toothpick or piece of hay. your thoughts don’t have the opportunity to stray for long. ambessa’s bracelets summon you once again.

it’s not pathetic to mindlessly follow the sound of a gorgeously stunning woman’s bracelets. especially not when ambessa’s long finger is dancing along the rim of her glass.

“tell me…what exactly do you do for work? you surely do not seem like an investment banker.”

you crack a smile at the not-so joking remark as ambessa’s voice gains your full attention. “no, i am not. i’m essentially a glorified reader. i read all these grant proposals that come into our company. i select which ones are worth our time and money then i allocate the proposals to different teams within the company.”

“smart girl, i see.”

it’s the only note ambessa gives you but you cannot contain the growing smile at the genuine praise.

“thank you. i’d like to think so too. and how about you? what do you do for work?”

ambessa knows how to draw you in. there’s a twinge of a smile on her lips. instead of offering an immediate reply, she lifts her glass and swirls the contents around. “a little of everything, dear. one might call me greedy.”

“greedy? how so?” you find yourself inching towards ambessa. though it appears, or maybe it’s the trick of the light, ambessa is purposely drifting back to draw you close.

“how so…excellent question. i assume you’d know a little something about greediness though.”

you stiffen at those words. you’re usually quite adaptable in situations—never needing more than a few seconds to switch courses. yet ambessa’s words knocked your usual confidence out of you. greedy? of all the words and general assessments—greedy is never a first impression you’ve left. have you?

“i’m…unsure…of what you mean.”

ambessa’s laugh crackles in the air. the hairs on your arm react as if to electricity or physical touch. “ah. i see you’re not fully acquainted in the evident ways of your desires. both for myself and my lovely bartender, sevika.”

your throat shrivels up at ambessa’s blatant comments. it aches for an escape. or perhaps you need the quenching sacrament that is only offered after foolishly devoting your lust to ambessa. you force your gaze away from the trance held by golden embers sparked in ambessa’s eyes. it takes only one second to realize sevika’s paid close attention to the interaction at play.

the moment your eyes locked in with those glossy grey ones everything clicks in place. sevika cracks a smile around the straw, your used straw. ambessa’s finger never once stops moving around the glass. the condensation mimicked how you felt. slowly melting under the watchful gaze of two undeniably attractive women.

“you two know each other then?” the slight tremble in your tone is noticeable to you and ambessa.

ambessa, always cunning and quick wit, replies, “what do you think, sweetheart?”

with a pause, you let the interactions of the night wash over you. ambessa’s quick determination to touch you as she had approached. sevika spending a minute too long doting on you with the drink. offering a far too special creation. the sharpness of each of ambessa’s words towards you. both women had, not too discreetly, expressed their interest in you.

“what are you…to each other?” your eyes flicker between ambessa and sevika. sevika now closer. only a few feet at the sink idly washing her instruments.

ambessa scoffs. the sound makes you whip your head towards it. “what does it matter? i think it’s clear what we both desire.”

sevika chuckles at the subtle harshness in ambessa’s words. or maybe it’s lack of disinterest to further coax the truth into you. ambessa is patient but headstrong. flipping her shakers to dry, sevika closes the distance. creating a bubble between all three of you and the rest of the patrons.

“don’t make this difficult, doll.” sevika’s tone is much suave than before. “come home with us tonight. we’ll show you a good time.”

you cannot remember how or when you’d said yes to the proposition. it didn’t take a genius to jump on the opportunity either. all you could remember was sevika and ambessa sharing a grin. then with a snap of ambessa’s fingers—sevika switched spots with another bartender. another blur of time went on and were wedged between both women in the back of a black suv. sevika’s lips were attached to your neck while ambessa stroked her hand teasingly along your inner thigh.

ambessa cackled once you spread your legs open for more of her touch. it never came. it didn’t matter much to you in the moment. you were aware it wasn’t rejection from ambessa. the woman craved to have you all but salivating for her touch.

“you’ll beg us to stop touching you soon, darling.” ambessa purred near your ear before nipping at the soft flesh of the lobe.

no one said a peep as ambessa tugged you through the lobby of their penthouse suite. her fingers crushing the silk of your tie. the sight alone invoked a lowly moan in your throat. you were not embarrassed to admit, to yourself, you grew damper in your underwear.

nothing and absolutely nothing could have prepared you for the ways in which ambessa and sevika desired you. once your feet crossed the threshold of the elevator into the penthouse—sevika’s fingers worked in tandem to unbutton your dress shirt. it dawned you on far too late about your suit jacket discarded in the suv.

before you could even get a word in, sevika already sunk to her knees and maneuvered your pants and cotton underwear down to your ankles. it was a momentary lapse of awkwardness as you attempted to wiggle your feet out of both shoes and pants. within seconds of freedom, sevika’s face is buried between your legs. her tongue does not hesitate. an eager lick is taking of your folds—a warm tongue paired on your even warmer pussy.

“fuck…” you mutter with the sheer hunger and heat behind the first pass. you reach out for sevika’s hair to steady yourself from stumbling over.

sevika’s tongue moves with a messy yet deliberate rhythm. she moans into your cunt—savoring every last inch of you. you watch in awe as her eyes are closed and tongue exploring every nerve that makes you whine. her tongue delves lower—teasing your entrance only with the tip—before bringing it back to your swollen clit. you’re far too wet for sevika’s tongue to dissolve your juices rapidly. you feel her tongue spread your desire all over your clit before she sucks the bundle of nerves between her lips.

your nails scratch profusely at her scalp. any attempt from embarrassingly falling over as she eats you out. your moans turn more frantic and your whimpers more high pitched. before you can think to warn sevika—a commanding voice demands sevika stop. both sevika’s and your disappointment rings in the air. the woman on her knees grumbles into your cunt. you release a mewl of annoyance. sevika chastely adores your clit with a kiss before returning upright.

“don’t look too sad, buttercup.” sevika playfully nudges your chin.

before you allow yourself to respond, ambessa steps behind you and secures one arm around your waist. she molds your bodies together. the older woman is completely naked. her breasts press into your shoulders. her hips are positioned on your lower back. you tense momentarily feeling her breath on your skin but it dissolves immediately.

ambessa’s head dips to your neck and licks a strip of skin along the curve on your shoulder. “such a pretty little thing, aren’t you? so eager and willing for us.”

you forget almost instantaneously about your loss orgasm. sevika steps closer which graciously allows more support for your trembling body. both her hands grip into the ample, tender flesh of your hips. she smiles wickedly.

“come on, ambessa. you promised i’d have my fun with her.” sevika fakes a frown. despite her words directed to ambessa, her eyes remained on you.

ambessa chuckles lowly against your skin and her nose tickles as she nods. “very well. i’ll play nice for now.”

before you can catch the needy whine it slips out the second you’re deprived of ambessa’s warmth. she steps away with a pleased smile at your reaction. within a blink of an eye sevika’s scooped you into her arms bridal style and is following closely behind ambessa.

“i can walk, you know?” you mutter with a quiet tone as you position your arms around sevika’s neck.

“so? not enjoying the princess treatment?” sevika returns without missing a beat.

you scrunch your nose to starve off the blush threatening to bloom over your face. sevika only laughs knowingly. now as you’re in the bedroom—you don’t have much time to properly appreciate the deliberate decor and interior design. sevika carefully lowers you on the bed—treating you almost too delicately for your liking. ambessa situates her back flushed to the headboard.

ambessa spreads her legs a few inches wide and pats the space between them. “come, dear.”

with a deliberate nod, you crawl towards ambessa until you’re kneeling between her legs. she offers a genuine smile and a tilt of her head. a bashful feeling washes over you at her undivided attention. it takes a few seconds but then you understand the silent command. you sit between ambessa’s legs—your back leaned against her chest.

“i knew you were smart.” ambessa praises and her hands diligently part your legs until each one hangs over one of hers. “we like safe words around here, dear. as it is your first night we will start with the traffic light system. do you know what that is?”

“yes, ambessa.”

you cannot see it but you can sense another wide smile spreads across ambessa’s face. “delightful. let us put it to the test while sevika gets ready.”

one of ambessa’s hands cups your breasts and the other slides down your torso. fingers hovering over your mound before she speaks again. “what color, dearest?”

an immediate raspy whisper emits from you. “green.”

ambessa hums her acknowledgment then her fingers part your folds. the cool air tingles on your exposed cunt. you even hear the slickness as she spreads you apart. her hand on your breast gives a firm squeeze before palming at the flesh. your sharp breath causes ambessa to pause and you immediately reply with, “g-green…” her actions continue with the confirmation. ambessa rolls your nipple between two fingers as she ghosts the other fingers over your clit. your hips instinctively buck—feening for more friction. ambessa deviously chuckles near your ear. while twisting your nipple with a surprisingly delicate touch, ambessa’s middle finger draws circles over your clit. it takes almost nothing to tip your head back against her shoulder with a moan.

ambessa eagerly drinks in your approval and continues with the ministrations. the circles prove to only tease you and leave you leaking on the sheets. after a full minute passes, ambessa’s finger wanders lower. the same digit trails teasingly over your entrance.

“what color, sweetheart?”

you groan lowly. “green…please…green.”

as the last syllable leaves your lips, ambessa effortlessly drives two fingers into your waiting cunt. you both moan for the same yet different reasons. the two fingers curl expertly drawing another moan from you. it takes no effort for ambessa’s fingers to glide in and out of you without resistance. each movement filling your ears with the profane wetness between your legs. you whimper with your lips parted as she curls her fingers deeper and fucks you slowly yet deliberately. as if she’s waiting for something. or someone.

“she ready?”

sevika’s voice cuts into the sounds of your pleasure and ambessa’s fingers stretching you. with half lidded eyes you find sevika through the haze of lust glazed over them. on her hips hang a dildo of about six inches with healthy width of girth. the harness accentuates the dips and curves of her defined hips and legs. as you’re shamelessly checking sevika out—she is doing the same. her eyes trained on ambessa’s fingers expertly curling in and out of you.

your back arches as ambessa adds a third finger. ambessa drops her hand from your sensitive nipple and wraps her arm around your waist—pulling you back flushed against her body.

“she should be ready. are you, sweetheart?” ambessa lathers your neck with kisses after her question despite her fingers still moving steadily inside of you.

“yes…” your focus is split everywhere. unable to keep your eyes trained on sevika without moaning as ambessa stretches you further for what’s next.

nonetheless sevika finds herself in bed with you both. she inches forward on her knees until she’s in the space ambessa created between your legs. both her and ambessa exchange a look before the fingers inside of you slowly slide out. you whimper at the loss but know it’ll immediately be replaced with something bigger.

sevika’s hands soothingly massage the length of your thighs. her thumbs lightly digging into the flesh—easing any residual tension. you sigh out a moan as her thumbs move further up. they find themselves in the valley of your hips and legs working with more added pressure.

“please sevika…” you attempt to arch your back—desperate for more than teasing.

ambessa’s arm tighten its hold on your torso. “none of that, doll. you’ll stay still and wait for sevika.”

“ah, it’s okay, ambessa. she’s kinda cute like this.”

sevika positions her knees underneath ambessa’s thighs for leverage. her non prosthetic fingers dance and dip between your folds—ensuring you’re ready. she guides the head of the strap towards your hole. the tip nudges against your entrance. both you and sevika bite your lips in anticipation. ambessa’s hands are tenderly caressing your sides sending goosebumps everywhere.

with one swift yet deliberate thrust sevika has sunk the entirety of the strap inside of you. likewise a moan is buried in your throat wanting escape but unable to. you feel the roughness of ambessa’s hands settling into their positions. one hand returned to your breast and the other slithering down to locate your clit once again.

the moan finally releases once sevika cautiously grinds her hips down and ambessa applies a delicious pressure to your clit. you find yourself melting into ambessa’s arms as her lips idly kiss along your shoulder and neck.

“one last time dearest…what color?” ambessa mutters against your skin.

“green…fuck…green for the whole night…”

you hear both their pleased chuckles and a blush dusts on the apples of your cheek. the momentary embarrassment dissipates the second sevika lazily drags the strap out then thrusts it back inside of you. she repeats the action a few times—stretching you out before setting a pace. once sevika’s patience runs thin of the teasing, she grips your thighs and starts thrusting her hips. it’s a steady momentum and rhythm. you feel the veins of the fake cock sliding against your spongey walls. the slight curvature allows a pleasurable friction on your g-spot each time sevika drags the strap out.

your moans gradually grow more and more desperate the more sevika thrusts into you. ambessa’s firm circles on your clit accelerates the process of your orgasm. paired with the interchangeable stimulation of your nipples from talented fingers. sevika pants and occasionally grunts above you. she cannot decide whether to watch her cock disappear inside your cunt or the expressions on your face. her nails leave impressions of half crescent moons on your thighs.

“feels so fucking good, baby…shit…” sevika growls as she crouches forward. her forehead grazing only an inch above yours.

sevika’s hips begin to move with a little less grace. snapping into you with such an intensity you’re already preparing for the lingering soreness tomorrow. you cannot even get the noises of pleasure out from within. your head falls on ambessa’s shoulder—no longer able to support the weight. ambessa, always an opportunist, encircles your neck with her calloused fingers. the action draws a moan out of you and it’s immediately paired with ambessa adding more pressure to your clit.

“oh fuck…that’s…gonna make me…cum…”

ambessa’s squeezes the sides of your neck experimentally and the walls of your cunt flutter and tighten around sevika’s strap. it produces a series of tiny whimpers as sevika’s thrusting is unrelenting and ambessa fingers never once pause their careful, pressured circles on your clit.

“come for us, baby. you’re so pretty like this…so perfect…” ambessa whispers softly near the shell of your air.

you’ve never once came on command. you figured it was a myth. that is before ambessa cuts off your air circulation. before sevika manages to spread your legs wider and somehow move even faster. the fingers on your clit match the speed in which you’re being fucked. ambessa tips your head backwards so sevika can crash your lips into a heated and passionate kiss.

within seconds everything comes crashing down. your legs tremble from the onslaught attention. tongues messily clashing as you both moan into each other. the blood gushes rapidly in your ears drowning out the squelching sounds of your cunt being filled. you’re not even sure if you moaned or if it was a silent one. neither of them relent until you’ve limply sunk into ambessa’s embrace.

sevika draws back from your lips. smiling proudly as a string of saliva connects you both. ambessa’s hand encroached around her neck drops and starts caressing your trembling form. her lips return with more intent kisses anywhere she can reach. sevika’s hands carefully lift your legs off of ambessa’s and settle them on the bed after she draws the strap out of you.

you whimper with the empty feeling. despite the emptiness, your cunt throbs achingly around nothing. you hear someone ask you a question but you cannot determine from whom.

“did you hear that?” the voice asks and you shake your head truthfully. you feel the laughter rumbling on ambessa’s skin—must’ve been her. “do you need a break? or are you ready for more?”

“m-more?” you whine out as you half heartedly watch sevika loosen then step out of the harness.

ambessa bites gently into your shoulder emitting a tiny yelp out of you. “yes, more. you think sevika is the only one with all the fun? oh darling…i myself need to taste you and feel you come around my tongue, my fingers…maybe i’ll bring out a bigger toy. would you like that?”

“yes, ambessa…” the prompt answer is without hesitation.

ambessa licks the bite mark embedded in your shoulder now. she words settled deep into your core. “oh…you’re too perfect. i think we’ll keep you, pet.”

#sevika #arcane #ambessa medarda x y/n #ambessa x fem reader #ambessa x you #ambessa x y/n #ambessa x sevika #ambessa x reader #ambessa medarda x you #ambessa medarda x reader #sevika x you #sevika x reader #sevika x y/n #ambessa medarda

290 notes · View notes

hcneymooners · 3 months ago

Note

dad’s best friend ambessa perhaps ..? :3 i love ur age gap fics ur so talented

⋆ come, and be my baby.

dad's best friend!ambessa x f!reader. men & minors dni. synopsis: you've always been a troubled, searching girl. ambessa, your father's long-time best friend, is your self-ordained solution. cw: age difference, older woman/younger woman, reader is implied to be between 22-24, emotional hurt/comfort, dom/sub, dom!ambessa, sub!reader, you're a little bit of a conniving bitch still love you tho, unhealthy relationship dynamics, codependency, slight emotional manipulation, listen you had to lock in, non-sexual intimacy, pleasure dom!ambessa, rough body play, manhandling, pet names, lesbian sex, dildos, vaginal sex, implied penetrative sex, implied strapping, oral fixation (ambessa), praise kink, mommy kink (specifically mama), implied exhibitionism, overstimulation, multiple orgasms, squirting, begging, spanking, impact play, face sitting, desk sex, you guys are definitely freaks but you love love love each other.

notes: hi, honey baby. this might be the most erotic questionable thing i've ever written. i hope you're happy with it. i went a little overboard and a bit non-conventional with the trope. i adore you & thank you for requesting, mami.

two things in this world reigned absolute: that you were glad your life would only be lived once, for you couldn't do this again, and that you were ambessa medarda's favorite girl.

the medardas were a family heavy with conflict, and perhaps that's why the matriarch and your father were best friends. they both were volatile people, sometimes prone to cruelty, with soft spots for certain people that were darkened with rot at the edges—perfumed with the sweet notes of their rage.

you were both of their favorites, and therefore, when your parents got divorced, you'd acted through the narrow scope of a confused and aching little girl and chose your father. once you'd shed that naive nature, you traced your way back to your mother in secrecy. you indulged in hushed phone calls in the middle of the night, timing your exits from your room with the fading beat of your father's boots as you left.

every month, she promised to get you.

the glass would fog with your breath as you waited in that tall, flaking phone booth, each passing car's headlights casting long shadows across your face. you memorized every crack in the booth's floor, every water stain on its ceiling, until they became as familiar as your own disappointment.

you wore the same outfit: thick, wool tights in burgundy tucked under the gleaming straps of your mary janes and layered underneath the dark denim of your favorite jeans. you cradled yourself into a black turtleneck, your hair tamed into two plaits that rested against your neck underneath the fabric. your eyes would be wide and searching, one hand gripping the curved handle of your brown leather suitcase and the other shaking around your well-loved copy of prozac nation.

she never came, but you showed up every time.

one night, a maserati did skate up to that ancient meeting spot, and you straightened from where you'd been dozing standing up. an overly tinted window rolled down, and you were met with the strong gaze of ambessa medarda, whom you hadn't seen since your early days. you didn't remember much, just yellow-tinged memories of being spoiled by her and being picked up and tossed into the bright sky above the farm she owned.

she must've moved back.

at first, she said nothing, just cataloged your most recent iteration of your "going with my mother" outfit and worked her jaw. finally, she leaned over and popped open the door before leaning back and letting you make the choice. embarrassed and teetering on the edge of emotional collapse, you slid in and shut down as she pulled away. this was how you met her again. seventeen and sobbing, emotionally wrought and disappointed from all angles. you probably came off unbearably young, dreamy, and unprepared for the challenges of real life.

it was only later that ambessa revealed that her first thought was that you needed a mother, that you needed her. that you were a girl abandoned and fighting your best against the more experienced hands of life.

⋅˚₊‧ 🕯��୧ 🦪 ‧₊˚ ⋅

from then on you were her newest daughter, until you weren't. you noticed how 'miss' became 'dear' became 'darling,' each new endearment a step closer across the chasm between you. the way she said your name changed too, softening at the edges like butter left in sunlight.

by nineteen, you were practically sequestered to her house by your personal desires, curling at her hip as you grew into yourself. even now at an older age—still far younger than her—you came home from university only to lay all of your belongings in the warm wood of your makeshift bedroom (the guestroom, really). she taught you to appreciate aged whiskey, watching with amusement as you struggled not to grimace at the burn.

"small sips, little one," she'd say, her hand warm against your lower back.

you learned to love the taste, if only because it meant sharing these quiet moments in her study, the leather of her armchair creaking as she leaned forward to pour you another finger's worth.

you and mel even developed a soft friendship that lessened the tension between her and her mother, tall arguments tempered by the agreement that they would not aggravate your ptsd from the divorce days. sometimes you caught mel watching you both with worried eyes, but you'd grown tired of other people's concerns.

you'd rather have this - ambessa's fingers absently playing with your hair as she read reports, the way she automatically ordered your coffee exactly how you liked it, the subtle possessiveness in how she introduced you to her colleagues.

regardless, you knew that you and ambessa's relationship spun on an axis that could be labeled uncomfortably intimate, maybe even imbalanced. for all that everyone said, you couldn't find it in yourself to be concerned. you regarded her as all that you had, something that wouldn't leave.

she indulged you, kissing your forehead when she came in from a day at work or texting you about what replacements you had wanted for certain items on the grocery list. she rarely called you by your name, always coaxing you forward with firm, warm pet names. they were swollen with affection, a doting '(my) sweet girl', 'baby girl', or 'little one.'

your favorite one was invoked from a spontaneous trip to paris to meet an art collector she'd purchased from, only to return bearing handcrafted soaps and a penchant for calling you 'chouchou.' that stopped about two weeks later, but you wrote it down under your list of desired tattoos. what didn't stop was the way she'd buy authentic silken scarves to tie around your neck with careful precision, her fingers brushing against your pulse point in a way that sent you shivering.

the shift was gradual, like watching shadows lengthen at sunset. one evening, as thunder rolled outside and rain lashed against the windows of her study, she pulled you closer than usual. ambessa’s fingers traced patterns on your skin as she read, and when you tilted your head back to look at her, she met your gaze with an intensity that made your breath catch. the thunder cracked again and the peeking champagne of your bra strap slipped down your arm. still, neither of you moved.

the moment was eventually broken by mel’s surprise of coming home for the weekend. you pulled yourself upright, intending to put together a small plate for her. before you could leave, ambessa strolled up behind you and adjusted the strap, so that it was firm and held tight to the delicate bones of your shoulder.

for a moment, you thought you’d felt her lips right beside it.

⋅˚₊‧ 🕯୨୧ 🦪 ‧₊˚ ⋅

"you're not a little girl anymore," she murmured one night, weeks later, her voice carrying the weight of aged whiskey and unspoken promises.

you were curled in your usual spot beside her, but everything felt different - charged with an electricity that made your skin prickle. you couldn't remember when the maternal comfort of her touch had transformed into something more, but you knew there was no going back.

"i haven't been for a while," you replied, your voice steady despite the way your heart hammered against your ribs. her hand found your chin, tilting your face up to meet her gaze, and you saw in her eyes the same hunger that had been growing in your own.

your fingers traced the rim of your whiskey glass, ice long since melted. the study had grown dark save for the amber glow of her desk lamp, catching the silver in her hair like moonlight on water.

you'd noticed her watching you more lately, her gaze heavy with something between concern and desire.

"you remind me of her sometimes," she said quietly, breaking the silence. "mel, when she was younger."

the comparison should have stung, but you knew better. you'd learned to read between her lines, to understand the weight she carried. you were not mel's replacement - you were something altogether different, more dangerous.

you set your glass down carefully, the crystal making a soft sound against the carpet.

"i'm not her," you said, voice steady as you rose from your chair. "i won't leave."

the words hung in the air between you, heavy with promise and threat. her laugh was low, throaty.

"no, baby girl. you're nothing like her at all, are you?"

she spoke the endearment deliberately this time, watching how it made you shiver. you'd both been playing this game for months - you with your calculated vulnerability, her with her careful restraint.

you moved to stand behind her chair, hands resting on her shoulders. through the silk of her blouse, you felt her tension, the way she stilled like a prey animal. but ambessa medarda was nobody's prey, and you both knew it.

"i need you," you murmured, the words leaden. you were trying not to sound as crazed as you felt . "and you need someone who needs you."

her hand came up to cover yours, her gold rings dense and cool against your skin.

"you're very clever," she said, something like pride coloring her voice. "i should send you away."

"but you won't." you pressed your lips to her temple, breathing in the scent of her perfume - something expensive and french. mango wood and black rose if you remembered correctly, discovered during your illicit investigations of her bedroom. "because you understand me better than anyone. because we're the same."

she turned then, catching your wrist in a grip that walked the line between gentle and controlling.

"the same?" her thumb pressed against your pulse point, counting out the rhythm of your wanting. "you're barely older than my daughter."

"age is just a number," you said, and then laughed at how young it made you sound. "no—that's not what i mean. what i mean is that we both know what we want. we both know how to take it."

the silence stretched between you like spun sugar, delicate and sweet. outside, leaves skittered across the gravel drive, and somewhere in the house, a clock chimed eleven. you watched emotions play across her face - desire, concern, resignation, hunger.

"if we do this," she said finally, her voice rough like aged bourbon, "there's no going back. no playing innocent. no running away when it gets hard."

you smiled, all teeth and triumph poorly disguised as submission.

"i told you," you said, sinking to your knees beside her chair, resting your head against her thigh like you had a hundred times before - but different now, charged with intent. "i'm not going anywhere."

her hand found your hair, nails scraping gently against your scalp.

"my clever, terrible girl," she murmured, and you could hear in her voice that she'd surrendered to this animal between you. "what am i going to do with you?"

you turned your face into her touch, lips brushing against her wrist where her heart copied yours, beat for beat.

"keep me," you said simply. "just keep me."

the study grew quieter still, the only sound was your shared breathing and the distant whisper of wind through bare branches. you'd won, you knew, but then you'd been winning since that first night in the maserati, since you'd looked at her with calculated tears and let her save you. you loved her - truly, deeply, with all the fierce possession of your young heart - but you'd learned from your mother's absence that love wasn't enough. you had to learn how to hold on to what you wanted.

and oh, how you wanted this - wanted her, with her silver-streaked hair and elegant hands and eyes that saw right through you and wanted you anyway.

her fingers tightened in your hair, and you looked up to find her watching you with an expression that made your breath catch. the lamp clicked off, and in the sudden darkness, you felt rather than saw her move. her hand cupped your cheek, thumb brushing across your bottom lip.

"stand up," she commanded softly, and you did, letting her guide you until you were perched on the edge of her desk. the wood was cool against your thighs, a sharp contrast to the heat of her body as she stepped between your knees. "are you sure about this?"

your answer was to reach for her, fingers curling into the cotton of her blouse.

"i've never been more sure of anything."

the clock struck quarter past, and the last autumn leaves rattled against the window as she leaned down to kiss you, tasting of whiskey and an affection hard won.

you kissed back lazily, squeezing your thighs together as one of her hands came to direct you by the base of your neck. she slotted the two of you together, lips sliding and grasping at each other between soft inserts of tongue. your teeth seemed to buzz with unnamable energy as she leaned forwards, hands bracing around you, so close to cupping your ass.

you needed her touch, needed to know whether your fantasies had been well-conjured or only pathetic in their imaginings. you’d spent nights tucking your fingers into yourself, trembling quietly as you pictured the shape of her mouth and how it would fit over you.

as if reading your mind, ambessa firmly spread your legs apart with a forceful hand and came closer to you. you let out a weak moan as her teeth scraped your neck, a hand coming to press down on your stomach as if to see how much space she had to fill.

you were so immensely grateful for the flimsy structure of your sleep shorts, the fabric tugged easily down your legs by only one of her fingers. she used that same finger to feel out the shape of your clothed cunt, her throat trembling with a low sound of satisfaction.

you were wet and desperate, wrapping an arm around her broad shoulders so that you could grind against what was now two fingers.

ambessa moved your panties aside with no great effort, sliding a finger into your tight heat. gradually, she built a rhythm inside of you until you were bucking where she held you. after a minute, she slid it out and into her mouth.

“mmm,” she said consideringly. “my babygirl is so sweet for me.”

you’d swallow a boat of fucking blackberries if you had to, choke them down despite your allergies and sealing throat if that meant she’d taste you again.

“ambessa.

she laughed and you saw her eyes glittering in the dark, the light brown so bright with want they seemed gold. it was then you realized you’d never said her first name alone before, and she must’ve realized as well because her hand suddenly clenched around your throat.

“do you remember when you turned twenty and got drunk with those miscreants from the town over?” your mouth twitched at her avid disgust. she could be quite classist. you’d work on that. “you don’t because you practically drank your body weight, but i do. do you want to know why?”

you gasped out a ‘yes’ as she used her free hand to grope the peach of your ass before switching to thumbing at your pebbled nipples.

“i remember that birthday because you stumbled into my room and climbed into bed with me.” you felt dread rising. “you bumped against my back, like a little bunny, and worked yourself into quite the state. and the whole time you kept apologizing. you were saying ‘sorry, mama’, all slurred and saccharine, over and over till you finished.”

you were so hot with shame you could’ve set the house burning. she smiled, slow and teasing, as she pinched your nipple hard. you let out a high moan.

“i liked that.”

you were squirming now, two of her massive fingers back to stretch your pussy.

“i liked it very much. i had to make sure not to wake you as i fucked myself.”

your eyes widened, like two coins, as the words registered. ambessa laughed again and lowered to her knees, yanking you forward so your ass hung off the edge of the desk. she was still tall enough to tower over you, shadowing the sopping mess of your cunt.

with an annoyed roll of her eyes, she pulled her fingers away and reached behind you, returning with a pair of scissors. with two efficient cuts, your panties were hanging in tatters around your hips. your pussy was exposed in all of its pink glory and it pulled apart with a soft squelch as she pushed your thighs up and out, guiding your hands to hold them for her.

she tugged a hair tie from around her wrist, drawing her gray mass of curls into a loose bun. several strands fell around her face, but she only pushed them impatiently behind her ears. you slapped your hand around blindly, eventually flicking on the bright desk lamp.

“i want you to see me,” you breathed, and she cupped your cheek.

“i’ve always seen you.”

and with that, she went down. she started with a long, luxurious lick up your cunt, her lips suckling around your clit as she reached the top. you moaned loudly and dropped your hands from your thighs, raising them to tug and pinch at your tits. she kept your legs open by sliding the bulk of her back between them, sliding back down to lap at your hole.

for someone as rigid as ambessa could be, she was messy when eating you. she didn’t care to savor, not right now. she’d wanted you for what felt like forever, and you wanted to black out beneath her.

she further spread you open, thrusting her tongue into your heat and feeling you clench. back and forth she went, slobbering over the pink of you until you were tearing up. she suctioned her mouth over one of your lips, large and gleaming, pulling away so that it slid from her mouth with a wet extended ‘pop!’. you clutched at her head, rocking yourself into her unforgiving hold. she blew gently over your hole, watched as it fluttered.

“mama, please.”

tenderly, she grazed her teeth over your clit, soothing the sting with her tongue as she sank three fingers inside of you. ambessa fucked you hard and fast, your tits bouncing as you whimpered with a hand over your mouth. a hand came down like thunder on your ass, the crack hard and hot. you wailed and clutched at her, begging her to go faster, to mark you, to swallow you whole.

“there you are, baby girl. tell me what you need.”

“mama, wait—” you shuddered around her crooked fingers, the world turning white as your head grew hazy. “wait. mama.”

“hmm?”

you scrambled at her, pushing her until there was enough space to slide from where you’d settled at her wrist. wobbling, you turned on your hands and knees, pushing your ass up into her face and falling into a brutal arch.

“like this please.”

“anything for my girl,” ambessa said and you shook because you couldn’t see her face but you could feel her voice.

her fingers dove back into you, her mouth joining the effort. you were floating, only briefly aware of the consistent slaps to your ass through the pain ricocheting pleasantly through you. you pushed back, fucking yourself the way you wanted. she let you, steadying you when you began to lose rhythm.

“bessa, i can’t—i can’t see you,” you slurred and she hummed into your weeping pussy.

your stomach grew tighter and tighter, the world narrowing down to the way she slurped and worked into your cunt. you gripped the opposite edge of the desk, extending yourself as your orgasm began to boil over. quickly, ambessa swung herself under you and brought you down on her face. her arms flexed around your stomach, the corded muscle circling you as she moaned into your cunt.

the vibrations set you off. you felt like you were flying, like you were fucking free.

“oh shit, mama. fuuuuckkkk.”

your voice was unrecognizable to yourself, cracking and raspy. time stretched and winded. you knew your legs were shaking, that you’d squirted over her and yourself.

you didn’t know how, but ambessa was undressed now and rearranging you like a doll. you were back up on your knees, but she was draped over you with her heavy tits branding your skin with their warmth and weight. her hair was down and around you; it smelled like her shampoo, a curtain of coconut and cinnamon.

she bumped her hips against you, caught the silicone tip of a dildo again and again against your loose hole. you turned your head and opened your mouth like a baby bird so she could spit into it, stuff her fingers in.

she began to break into you, bullying your cunt into accepting her cock. you did what you always did. you pushed back and let her in.

you only ever gave her what she needed.

⋅˚₊‧ 🕯୨୧ 🦪 ‧₊˚ ⋅

morning light filtered through dense curtains, casting the bedroom in baby pink. you watched your rings catch the light as you stretched - the marquise diamond throwing prisms across egyptian cotton sheets, your simple gold band warm from sleep.

you'd chosen them together - ambessa insisting on the marquise cut for the engagement ring (something as unique as you, sweet girl) while you'd wanted the classic simplicity of the wedding band, a quiet echo of forever.

the bedroom remained your favorite place - all cream linens and dark wood, familiar as breathing. in the mornings, you could pretend time stood still, pressing chapped kisses against her strong bare arms in the quiet before the day began. sometimes you climbed on top of her, sunk as far as you could into the broad helm of her body.

despite the passing years, she remained your most fortified sanctuary.

"baby girl?" ambessa's voice carried from the en-suite, still commanding even wrapped in morning softness.

you could hear the water running; a bath being drawn.

“coming, mama.”

© hcneymooners. ⚚ special taglist: @sugrcookiiee @icespiceluva @16novvs @tnash-tammy @dyk3miffy @iwasholic @absandsevikasgirl @blackdykegirlblogger @fortluocha @neganwifey25-blog @rottngrl3 just pop me a message or comment if you want to be added to the taglist.

#ambessa x you #ambessa x reader #ambessa x y/n #arcane ambessa #ambessa medarda #ambessa league of legends #wlw smut #lesbian #sapphic #arcane fanfic #arcane smut #arcane x reader #wlw #mine ; 🐎.#female!reader #fem!reader #ambessa smut

970 notes · View notes

esccpism · 29 days ago

Text

[…] love is my religion—I could die for that.

it’s valentine’s day. ceo!ambessa gifts you flowers.

abstract: ambessa wants you. more: she wants you to chase. the problem is the time it takes—you’re a tough nut to crack, and the woman has never been good at waiting.

cw: ceo!ambessa x assistant!reader, groping, kissing, shy ambessa for .002 secs but don’t tell anyone, sub/dom themes, corporal punishment (r!reader), voyuerism, ambessa has you masturbate in front of her, older woman x younger woman, reader is fat/plus sized

wc: 3.9k

fic inspired by this artwork by @/RoseYSD13 on twitter. heart skipped like 12 full beats. header inspired by the lovely @hcneymooners.

the year marches onwards.

if you catch the day early enough, time seems to pause and suspend; a breath you could almost hold in your hand.

it’s four in the morning—and so ambessa changes in her office today. and you stand, staring forward, only stealing glances when her back is turned.

she gets ready for as long as two hours, at times, when it’s early enough and the preliminary steps of her routine haven't already been run through at her home. such days are rare. she’s perfect in every other instance, she’s perfect even now. skin and scars, tight and flexible, choking up the room with her overpowering perfume.

you don’t know why she allows you to guard her incompletion. but then again, you’re fresh, and new. you aren’t worth much to her at all.

“haven’t i taught you manners, child?”

your eyes snap back to position. she hasn’t turned even a modicum, but of course it’s a gamble worth taking—her muscles practically ripple like water. the sun simmers against her skin. it’s asking the impossible to not watch them stretch and contract as she bends.

you allowed yourself it and nothing else, avoiding the dip low in her back where safety ends and the curve of her ass begins.

“come,” she beckons, “and help me out of this suit.”

you bob your head, and no hair spills out of your tight bun this time.

dress shoes click and reverberate in the wide and endless room, traveling ages before bouncing off the walls. she says nothing and so neither do you. the time passes, you can tell only by the morning waking outside. unbuttoning the corset becomes your primary objective and you do it with steadfast attention, ignoring her stomach tensing each time your fingers brush the vulnerable skin. ignoring her stomach entirely. ignoring the fact she is wearing no bra underneath and how her full breasts swell towards you beseechingly.

when you finish unraveling the intricate set of satin ribbons and pull the heavy fabric away from her torso, she lets you fold it neatly and place it atop her desk before pressing in, correcting your posture for you.

a hand tickles your stomach, finger under your chin, raising your line of sight until it meets with hers.

”don’t steal glances. i won’t remind you again.”

you nod as best as you can. your post might be fucked—though you don’t have a moment to let the grief wrack through you. “take wholly, or not at all. i won’t have any nibbling around me.”

gripping now, ambessa carries your chin and levels it so you are staring directly at her bare body.

“tell me. what are you feeling?”

“satisfaction, ma’am. i am honored to learn from you, and happy i was able to be of service to you.”

she sighs, and tuts. ”i told them to get rid of that stupid training video. i don’t want a robot tending to me. do you understand me?”

you nod. no hesitation, because she hates the scent, smells it like a dog smells fear.

“once more.” she relaxes your face and steps to your right, curls around you like a lioness circling its prey. “what are you feeling?”

”curiosity.” your eyes flicker to follow her, then keep straight ahead.

“around?”

“around you, ma’am.”

“good girl.” she stops her orbit directly in front of you, and drags her seat over. leans back, body open, legs spread. “satiate it.”

you pat your hands briefly on your dress pants—she interjects with a wily smile, “don’t be afraid, dear.” and you bite back an i’m not before it snaps from you, sharp as a knife.

you sink forward, distantly aware of your hanging cleavage. growing far more aware from how unabashedly she stares at it. you trail your nails down from her ear lobe, across her neck, watch her shiver at the pressure on her throat. you dip then, and politely squeeze her tit in your hand.

she scoffs, and then laughs, a tinkling, rich, barberry sound.

“callow,” she says. “you search like you are reading off my monthly estimates. have you no hunger?”

“i have hunger,” you retaliate, eyes alight. you pinch, and her brows flicker, arching into the pain near imperceptibly.

“but my job does not demand my hunger, ma’am. it only requires that i compartmentalize.” quite literally. you retract your hand and fold it behind you. ”allow me to return to my work.”

she leans her head back, face unreadable as she takes you in. seconds pass, and then the cloud passes as well. she waves you off, sounding bored. “very well. i’ll call you should i need you again.”

⚘

she tends to need you often.

it would seem actually, that she couldn’t do anything by herself were you to be zapped away tomorrow.

she enjoys when you pull the chair out for her, and requests it each time she returns to her desk. says heartily that it makes her feel regal. the cafe on the ground floor has a daily special that she orders three of, at three separate times in the afternoon, sending you on a fourth trip with a lofty tip for the barista should she have enjoyed all three instances. the lines are unbearably long, since the coffee tends towards being delicious. you make the fourth trip often.

her write ups, the real work: which loan repayment negotiations are still underway—there are many—and which partnering fell through—there are many. getting cussed out over the phone on her behalf. day trips across the city and long nights bent over blue light and ass-early mornings, awake even before the sun.

it’s…a demanding job, at its worst.

work breaks are terse at their best, and your coworkers are a restless bunch. they ask you questions, hoping the pressure will, at what is perhaps the 20,001st attempt, eventually give way.

ruler with an iron fist. does she even have emotions pulsing in there? you must’ve seen it, seen her slip. it’s psychopathic, how she’s so good at smiling. a wolf trying to hide its teeth.

here, these people, they don’t nurture expression. self wilts and dies here. that’s what got you at her side in the first place. you were always so loud, anyway, always too much. your mother told you to swallow yourself before the earth tears open its mouth and does it for you.

so you swallow, and you keep your teeth together, and you don’t say a word.

they’re right. you have seen it. ambessa’s smile befalls you often, and her touch is kind, when it grazes the small of your back.

she takes like a tyrant. she desires unceasingly. this you know.

you leave an afternoon with her mangled or otherwise changed, fundamentally at the parts. she so easily finds the fleshy soft of your belly, where it gives way with no resistance, and wraps a jaw around it. settles down to the marrow. your training was this, over and over, every mundane afternoon. eaten and spat back out. you’d be lucky to leave the night with any part of you still intact.

it was meant to make you human—this you couldn’t understand. i don’t want a robot tending to me, she’d instructed.

tell me. what do you feel?

what your coworkers don’t acknowledge is that absolute deference weakens in the face of idiosyncrasies. it's far more effective to strip a thing naked and leave it trembling out in the cold—completely numb the senses. a tyrant cannot rule a person. your brain must be empty so that they might squirm inside.

ambessa does not squirm.

she digs. afternoons change and shift, not yet stretching towards the light, but stretching nonetheless.

you pick inside yourself and place it down before ambessa—at her bequest: your runaway mother, how you hadn’t cried at your brother’s funeral, your bite-sized calico, your tamagotchi collection—and she watches every item splayed like a buffet with a fever that warms, that singes—you nearly snatch yourself back from the simmering air, afraid to lose yourself in her belly. to the licking flame of her tongue.

her hand extends across the table. it crosses the sheets of daily agendas and your laptop and the stack of reports, crosses seas towards you. she lands softly on your chin, and travels to cradle your cheek.

“are you happy here?” she unloads.

“of course, ma’am.”

her frown makes a hearth of her face. “give me the honest answer.”

“here at this position, or here with your fingers taking my face?”

“either,” she says, lowly. “both,” she corrects.

you ease a foot on the gas pedal. you aren’t sure what’s gotten into you, but it drums in your thighs like a second heartbeat. ”then, if i said i wasn't?”

she’s silent, and then her hand slips off. the heat follows her, and your body creaks forward before your brain catches up. chasing.

“then i would release you.” she folds her hands. “and i wouldn’t allow anyone else to have you.”

“i would no longer be yours, ma’am.”

“i may have no use for a pet with reservations, that does not mean i could stand someone else having what i can’t.”

“then must i repeat myself, too?”

the air quivers. the admission breaks inside your chest. her smile curls tight inside you and doesn’t let go.

“indulge me.”

“i’m happy here,” you indulge her. you really say—i’m happy it’s you. you press it into the gaping, leaking space between you, right next to your stewn out innards and idiosyncrasies. right to where her fingers fold on the table. “you’ve got a hand like a fireplace. i don’t mind when you touch, or when you take. above everything it’s the warmth i feel first.”

⚘

the pet names begin shortly thereafter.

only in private, but strong contenders each time—

would you fetch me another coffee, pet?

ah, my pretty dove. you’ve cleaned up sharply today.

come closer, little one. sit. there’s space for you, and i want you near me.

each cuts accordingly, chips at you in intentional ways. she’s relentless and unmerciful. she drags you around and does so easily; you bend for her like a lily. under her strong hands she directs you how to stand during meetings, at what angle to arch when pouring her drinks, at what angle to bow at each of her contemporaries as they enter.

she’s sat with her legs splayed, gaze sharp as she pushes in between your shoulder blades. a shudder slides down through the tendon until your knees threaten collapse.

”head low, and shoulders squared, little lamb. even in civility don’t forget whose you are.”

you couldn’t, not with the dents her fingers press into the tumbling skin of your back. it’ll surely leave marks. it’s only fair.

⚘

ambessa smiles when you enter—she always had, but these are toothier as of late, more disarming. you are startled by them each time.

you offer her one back that probably more closely resembles a wince, and then duck your head and the indignant flush that rises.

⚘

”i’ve brought coffee,” she announces with gusto, swishing in one morning. the pinks and lilacs outside grace the silhouette of her broad shoulders as she swoops down to place one of two in front of you. “tell me if it’s to your liking, so i may have someone replace it if not.”

your mouth unhinges, staring up at her dumbly. “ma’am—coffee runs are my job.”

“and an overly drab one. i didn’t know the lines were so long.”

she waits expectantly, and with a start you reach for the cup, hesitating, slowly tipping it back. it tingles on your tongue—spice and caramel. she watches it slide down your throat with rapt interest, eyes finding yours immediately when you settle the cup back down.

“it’s—good. it’s delicious.”

her grin spreads like wildfire. ”i’ll have them preserve it on the menu. it will be our daily order.”

“ma’am,” you try helplessly, but she pushes forward, leaning her weight on the desk.

she towers, casting a harsh shadow as the sun erects behind her. she might be glowing, or maybe it’s your eyes crossing as she tips over, far too close. ambessa dabs at the corner of your lip, carefully moving around your makeup and the mauve paint to your mouth.

“you’ve a stain, pet.”

her carefulness promptly exits her body through parted lips as she pushes, slipping her thumb into your mouth.

your body jumps. ambessa’s eyes lid as she regards you. “clean it off,” she says.

no hesitation. your tongue snakes out and wraps around the thick digit, suctioning softly. her large hand swallows the line of drool that escapes.

she pops it out, stained now with worse than mere coffee.

“you were saying?”

heart thundering in your throat, you slowly shake your head, swallowing around a newly dried mouth. “‘wasn’t. ma’am.”

she smiles. reaches sideways for your tissue box, and draws away.

⚘

in a turn of events, ambessa has you over her lap—fifteen strokes for standing too closely behind an attendee.

she says it’s because he’s a propagandist, how do you think it looks having my attendant whine herself against my biggest proponent? but her voice had clipped sharply and she'd demanded you untuck your chin from your chest and lower your skirt and recount exactly how it had happened.

her hand collides with the bare flesh of your ass, and it ripples, sharp singing through you at the point of contact. you gasp out, a strangled thing. she shushes you quietly, soothing the bruising spot.

”how did he feel against your cunt? hm?”

her finger slips, just grazing just grazing the damp folds through the thick pulp of your thighs. you whimper softly, pushing back against her touch.

”like nothing at all,” you pant, “ma’am.”

“i was under the impression you were happy here.” it’s sudden as a thunder clap, her hand lands again, and your body locks with divine will so as not to rock forward on the muscle of her thigh.

your voice breaks around a hiccup. you wish you hadn’t in you to be embarrassed, but all there is is ambessa. she overtakes and overloads. even the cold walnut desk smells of her. “yes ma’am. i am very happy here.“

“then display it to me better.”

you nod, tearily, frantically. your face buried in your folded arms makes it hard for your yes’m to make itself intelligible. ambessa doesn’t mind. isn’t finished.

“anything you need you must receive from me. understand? your robust pain, your inane pleasures. only through me.”

her hand presses against your back, testing your state, and your breathing jumps and shudders under her fingers. she coos softly, gracing them up your back and carding her fingers through your hair, massaging at the scalp.

“i’m going to sit you up, sweet girl. let me see your face.”

you’re all over her thigh when she lifts you. you gape, she gazes. swipes at your slick and licks it into her mouth.

“would you like me to handle it?”

“no, ma’am, i’m terribly sorry—i’m not sure what came over me—“

”if you wish to handle it yourself,” she interrupts, and swings her arm out before her, gesturing at a low seated sofa and pile of pillows, “sit right there where i can see you.”

her legs rest eagled, arms bent over her knees, eyes ravenous as she watches you pound your fingers into yourself. your moans jump out stilted and quiet. it’s not enough, it’s nowhere near enough. you need her inside you. you know she could stretch you out so good.

it’s chasing you, it’s chasing you, and your body rolls into your stuttering fingers, your heel reaching pathetically for your clit.

“such a good girl,” ambessa murmurs.

and the moan bubbles out of you like a wail, body climbing towards heaven as your orgasm ascends on you. white hot crashing waves you ride yourself through, hips jumping and twitching until you collapse back into yourself. pleasure tingling in you like an aftertaste.

she strides over immediately, presses a kiss to the top of your head. leaves and return, cleans you off with a warm, wet hand towel and dresses you with fresh clothing, helping your hands through the sleeves, slow and deliberate. she says nothing the whole while. so you say nothing in return.

when she’s finished and she’s satisfied, she sits you in front of a hearty meal.

it’s still hot and you don’t know when she had called for it—but you’re drained and you're grateful, and you take her kindness without complaint.

ambessa sits across from you, watches you eat. satisfaction smoothes her face out.

“are you happy here, little one?”

you glance up from your fork of chicken. she cradles you with her eyes.

it’s a given that you won’t report tonight. too many HR violations to count and technically it’d be your job to file and forward them all. you’ll have to reach for the CCTV footage as well, aware contemporaries come with varying intentions. you know the footage will not be bad at all. it was merely a brush, a push, a passing by—and you know it will not matter. just as it had not tonight.

despite it all stillness resides in you. just the way you like it.

“yes, ma’am. i’m happy.”

⚘

your work continues as usual. her hands remain gentle. you remember them on your body like the frozen earth remembers spring.

⚘

“i’d like your opinion,” her voice sings through the air, and you rise from your chair to indulge her. “which of these three do you believe suits me better?”

you hum, crossing your arms over your chest. it delights her, and mirth dances in her eyes.

“mahogany, as always. brings out your eyes.”

she lets the other two fold over her arm. ”well. aren’t you a sweet talker.”

”i’ll adjust my speech with you if you enjoy it, ma’am.“

“watch yourself,” she points. after a moment you allow yourself a little grin, one she drinks in and guzzles, exhaling sharp. berating on hold, too busy grinning back.

⚘

she wants you, and she leaves it scattered all over the place. makes it so obvious as to practically scream it from every rooftop.

she stares, she appears around your desk, hovers, frets when you are dressed too light for the weather—frets. the iron fisted tyrant. too warm to let you numb to the cold.

ambessa continues to change in front of you again and again, now with your added commentary. she welcomes your input, lets you see every curve of her breast and dip in her stomach—eyes follow you like incandescent light, curiosity, or more so daring your gaze to dip, to explore. to devour like a rabid tongue.

shouting from the rooftops without hearing herself echoed back isn’t something she’d ever commit to long, anyway.

ambessa grows increasingly frustrated with your fastidiousness and pushes and presses inwards. suffocates, encircles. as she does.

“i wasn’t trained for massages,” you tell her in vain. it verges on complaint, and she waves it off.

“you weren’t trained for many things, yet you hold up excellently.”

it’s high praise, she knows what she’s doing. your cheeks bruise, anyway.

“if you wish to be paid for it, i can arrange that.“

“no payment.” you say. “…ma’am. it stains it.”

“ah.” her head tips back, catches your gaze, a small smile at her mouth at the fluster in your face. “i see.”

with sleeves rolled to your elbows, your hands work her shoulders. dips into her sharp clavicle, unwinds and unravels the string of muscle and the plate of bone.

“lower, dove.” she crumbles under your touch, and your chest pangs where her silvery, pillowy coils tickle your stomach, as she sags into you. “deeper. you’ve the arms for it. i won’t break.“

she’s broken already. fragments of her spill supple into your hands, drenching your fingertips, caking under your nails. she melts like candle wax and swallows the flame.

it’s a simple revelation, and nothing that you hadn’t known. she’s beautiful. nips the breath right out of your lungs. you know she’d gleam if you told her—and so you do, rehearsing her lines in your head the microsecond before she acts them each out, a tensing, a shifting, a pleasant hum, rising in pitch. pride, preening like a bird. a charmed grin about her.

like water in a river. she’s predictable these days, but you’ll keep that one for yourself.

⚘

february marches onwards.

a quirk of her’s you’ve noticed: she decorates for every holiday without fail, even the ones she does not formally celebrate.

you would wonder what sub-intelligent lick your coworkers have to offer about it if you were given the chance to think at all.

you sign out of your laptop that night and step through the sliding doors the next morning, bright and early and instantaneously the bursts of red and gold slap you right in the face, just as if you’d stumbled into the sun.

every floor is like this, until you reach hers—and she’s waiting for you, the most flabbergasting yet—and swathed in her arms is a bouquet of red carnations and roses.

your stunned gaze picks out a single golden rose among the bloodbath. it’s an unimportant detail. but her face waits right above it, and you don’t know yet what to do with that.

“thank you for the hard work,” she starts, extending the garden towards you. “you’ve been a good employee.”

you stare. ambessa hates hesitation, you know this, but your head and your heart pull pitilessly in opposite directions with you inbetween, tearing like a piece of paper down the middle.

with steeled hands you relieve it from her, and have to hoist it against your body—you aren’t as strong as she is.

“why?”

“take it as an investment. you strengthen me, my vision. my life’s work. i hope to rely on you for a long time.”

you search for a tell on her face, but she gives you nothing. exasperation enters your voice as a last ditch effort.

“a note on my desk would have sufficed.”

“do you know me to merely ’suffice’?” ambessa crosses her arms, shoulders rising towards the ceilings, like you’re the one being difficult. “read between the lines, dear.”

“i am. it’s why i’m asking why.”

she exhales. raises her chin. “and i’ve told you. personal afflictions.” she gestures towards it, arms waving vaguely before folding back under her chest. “i wasn’t—sure what color you might like.”

her arms unfold as if relenting, relinquishing—bearing her chest open. she leans back to regard you, hands supporting her weight behind her. the words are quiet and cut thin through the air.

“are you dissatisfied?”

“no. never, ma’am. never with you.”

you stare at her, then down at the flowers you can barely peek over, then back at her, across her face, her neck beginning to resemble the bouquet the wider the silence expands—and—and—

you extend your hand to her arm, reaching blindly until you land, and her bicep tenses once under your touch.

“just hungry.” your eyes flicker to her lips.

she sinks into you like a feeding wolf. you aren’t sure where the flowers crash to, you don’t care. her mouth is as the rest of her—tender and all consuming. you offer yourself to her as a sacrifice, whimpering as you crumple in her arms. her skin smells overwhelming under your hands, her face cradled by your shaking fingers—of creamy vanilla, of baby powder and fresh sheets, enchanting, clothes drenched in amber accord. powerful and near unbearable and expanding like a balloon in your throat.

the urgency rises like a migraine, the need to gasp for air. gently, you shove it back down. not now, you whisper to your weeping heart. more important matters at hand.

©esccpism

RAHHHHHH thank you so much for reading. she’s perfect. i want her to bend me like a plastic fork.

#arcane #arcane ambessa #ambessa medarda #ambessa x reader #ambessa x you #ambessa league of legends #ambessa chosen of the wolf #ambessa arcane #lesbian #sapphic #arcane smut #arcane x reader #wlw smut #ambessa x fem reader

310 notes · View notes

myloveer0 · 2 months ago

Text

''Dream at first lust''

(Ambessa x reader NsFw)😭🥵❤️

18+ Read it at your own risk!

---Imagine waking up in the middle of the night, only to find Ambessa standing before you. What would you do?---

Note: I decided to write this because of my love and obsession with Queen Ambessa. This idea suddenly came out of my brain randomly and i went full lock on with it. Need to contribute for more Ambessa fics! asap!!

(This is not perfect and might encounter typos)

Part I

“Ugh… Mhmm… F*ck!” A deep groan escaped your lips as waves of satisfying pleasure washed over you. Your shoulders tensed involuntarily, and your breath hitched. You set your phone down on the bed and stared at the dark ceiling of your apartment, feeling satisfaction and incredulous act you had indulged in for days.

You raise your finger, feeling the sleek wetness of your release coating it. Are you being ridiculous? Where has your dignity gone? With a chuckle, when it comes to this woman all that dignity seems to disappear and unexisting.

It has been days and weeks as you found yourself endlessly replaying Ambessa's provocative TikTok videos and delving into tantalizing online fiction. Each new glimpse of her stirred a primal desire within you, pushing you further to the edge. Now, you watched another viral video of her, found yourself losing control. In an intoxicating haze of desire, your pants disappeared and you already coming and succumbed to overwhelming pleasure.

“W-why aren’t you real?” you whimpered, staring at your phone. On the screen, Ambessa was smiling; it was the scene from the final episode before the fight with Mel and Caitlyn. You stared at it, her captivating smile radiating. She embodied beauty, exuding a deep, masculine and feminime energy that drew you in like a moth to a flame. It was an intoxicating obsession, one that left you yearning for something just out of reach. It was a frustrating and a heartbreaking feeling.

You let out a long, heavy breath and shook your head, sinking deeper into the comfort of your pillow. It wasn’t the first time your mind had wandered back to her—ever since you finished watching Arcane, she’d been all you could think about. Ambessa Medarda: the Matriarch of War, the warlord, the stateswoman. Her presence was magnetic, powerful, and utterly inescapable.

No matter how hard you tried, you couldn’t stop her from invading your thoughts. Not that you wanted to. You didn’t bother hiding your fascination, even from yourself. That's why you indulge yourself by watching her edits on tiktok and fanfiction available you can find anywhere in the internet just to fill the empty feeling on your heart. But it wasn’t enough. It never was.

Which always result to plessuring yourself. You’d close your eyes and imagine her—sweet yet commanding, masculine yet graceful, towering at six foot nine. The thought of her consuming you, taking you, using you as she pleased—it sent a shiver down your spine every time.

You rubbed your eyes, the weight of drowsiness settling over you. Glancing at the clock revealed it was already hitting midnight. You had planned to take a quick dip in the tub after losing yourself in yet another fantasy, hoping to wash away the lingering wetness that clung to your core.

You never liked sleeping that way—it left you feeling sticky and exposed—but tonight, exhaustion seemed determined to win. Your eyelids grew heavier with every passing moment, and the thought of dragging yourself to the bathroom felt impossible.

''Maybe in the morning…'' you whisper hazily, surrendering to the pull of sleep.

Thud!!

Your eyes snapped open at the sound of something heavy falling somewhere nearby. Your sleepy eyes stirred open, mind groggy and slow to catch up. The room was dark, broken only by a thin blade of moonlight cutting through the gap in the curtains. For a moment, you lay still, listening, your heart beating a little faster. You where the type of person who was sensitive to sound especially in the sleep. For a second, you wondered if you were just hearing it.

Reaching out blindly, you felt around for your phone, your hand fumbling over the sheets until your fingers brushed the cool surface of the screen. The glow of the display was harsh, making you squint as your tired eyes adjusted. 2:03 a.m.

You groaned softly, letting the face fall back onto the bed. “Too early for this,” you muttered under your breath, rubbing your face with a sigh.

Then it came again.

A sound.

You breath caught, your fingers tightening around the phone. As you immediately sat up in bed, but this time wide awake, ears straining against the silence hoping to hear any sound. Your pulse drummed in your ears now, faster, sharper. You weren't just imagining it.

You scanned the room, but darkness was all you could see. Your apartment's bedroom was a decent size, familiar down to the last detail; you knew every inch of it. There was nowhere for anyone to hide—except in the shadows. You were certain the sound had come from your room, not outside. But how? How could someone get in?

The apartment building wasn’t cheap, boasting heavy security at every turn. No one could enter without passing layers of surveillance, and your door required a fingerprint scan. If anyone had tried to force their way through, the alert would’ve blared instantly.

You told yourself it was nothing. Maybe the wind. Maybe something you'd left precariously balanced had finally tipped over. But no matter how hard you tried to rationalize it, your body didn’t believe it. Your breath was shallow, as though even the act of breathing too loudly might give yourself away.

The phone was still in your hand, but you clutched it like a lifeline, your thumb hovering over the screen. Every nerve in your body screamed at you to move, to do something.

Your chest tightened when you heard it again—a creak.

This time, there was no mistaking it.

It came really inside the room.

You froze.

Your breath caught halfway in your throat and eyes grew widen. That was when you saw it—just barely, a shadow in the darkness. A tall figure, not even a few feet from your bed. It was standing still, like staring at you.

Your chest tightened as panic surged through you, an icy wave that rooted your place. Your hands trembled violently as you raised your phone, fumbling for the flashlight. Your heart pounded so loudly you thought it might burst.

The beam of light sliced through the darkness, illuminating the figure—just for a second.

Before you could process what you saw, it lunged.

You didn’t even have time to scream. Your phone slipped from your hands, bouncing onto the bed as the weight of the figure crashed into you. The air was knocked from your lungs as you forced back, your body pinned against the mattress.

A muscular arm coiled around your neck while the other pressed against the bed beside you, trapping you beneath its weight. You gasped, trying to fight, but it was useless. The pressure on your chest and neck kept you still, every movement was a struggle. You tried to move your legs but it only use it's own legs to pin it back down. It was impossible to escape.

The sharp, metallic scent of sweat and something faintly unfamiliar hit your nose. Your hands clawed instinctively at the arm restraining you, but the grip only tightened. Your mind raced, desperate to make sense of what was happening. Afraid your gonna be hurt much more worse which is death. Will you die in bed? A shurde of horror travel in your skin..

"Don’t move," the voice hissed again, low and guttural, the sound sending a chill down your spine.

Your blood ran cold as the realization sank in—you were helpless. Your body trembled uncontrollably, your throat dry and tight as though it had been sealed shut. Your chest heaved, every breath against the arm pressing against my neck.

Fear consumed you, raw and paralyzing. Tears pricked your eyes, spilling over as you began to sob. Your voice came out broken, barely above a whisper.

“P-please… please don’t hurt me. You can have whatever you want. Take anything you want from me. M-money—if you want money I’ll give it you. Just—just please don’t hurt me!”

The grip on your neck tightened, cutting off the desperate words spilling from your mouth. Your heart pounded wildly as you gasped for air.

“What are you talking about?” the voice snapped, colder now, laced with impatience. “Where am i? what kind of place is this”

You froze. Confusion collided with fear, and for a moment, you couldn’t even process the question. The grip eased just enough for you to wheeze out a frantic, “I-I don’t know! What are you talking about?”

Then it hit you. The light. Your phone. It was still on the bed, the flashlight casting a faint glow against the dark. Your trembling hands fumbled blindly, desperate to grab it.

When the light finally landed on the figure above you, You froze again—this time in utter disbelief. Your eyes widened, every ounce of fear momentarily replaced by a surge of shock that rippled through your entire body.

It was a woman.

Not just any woman.

Her familiar face, her piercing eyes, the sharp lines of her jaw and the scars in her face—all of it was unmistakable. Your breath hitched as your mind reeled.

This couldn’t be real. This wasn’t possible.

It was her. Ambessa Medarda.

Flesh and blood, alive, and impossibly here in front of you. Even touching and pinning you down.

The woman you had dreamed of. The woman you had wanted.

For a moment, you forgot about the weight pinning you down, the fear that had gripped you moments ago. You could only stare at her, mind a chaotic swirl of disbelief, awe, and a lingering sense of stange excitement.

“A-ambessa...??” The name slipped from your lips before you could stop it.

Her eyes narrowed at the sound, sharp as daggers. She didn’t loosen her grip; instead, her forearm pressed harder against your throat.

“Who are you?” she demanded, her voice a low growl. “What is this place? How did you bring me here. Tell me—are you one of them? The Black Rose?”

Your head shook wildly desperate. “I’m not—I swear—please!” The words spilled out, choking as you clawed at her arm.

Ambessa’s lips curled into a sneer, her dark eyes piercing through you, scanning every inch of your body like a predator weighing its prey. There was something chilling in the way she looked at you— as if she was deliberating, assessing if you were a threat capable of fighting back. She was everything the woman you knew. No doubt.

The silence stretched, before she finally released her grip. Maybe realizing that you were just a helpless and weak woman. You staggered back, clutching your neck with trembling hands, your breaths ragged. A violent cough racked your chest as you struggled to refill your lungs, the imprint of her strength still burning into your skin.

Ambessa straightened her posture, exuding an air of quiet authority as her dark eyes scanned your place. She was fully alert and cautioned. The room was dim, offering little for her to see, but her presence seemed to fill every corner nonetheless.

You cursed under your breath, still shaken. She was impossibly strong—stronger than you’d imagined. Just with her bare hand can easily send you to your death effortlessly. You almost get choke to death to the woman you were lusting every night.

That moment of reprieve gave you the chance to really look at her, to take her in fully. She was massive, taller than anyone you’d ever seen, and built like she could crush stone with her bare hands. Broad shoulders, arms thick with muscle, every inch of her radiated strength.

Her skin was rich bronze, smooth in places but broken by scars that suit her more. Her wet silver curls fell freely over her shoulders, stray droplets trailing down the curve of her neck. Her perfect figure, lean and powerful, was wrapped in a red silk robe that clung to her like it was tailor-made to emphasize her dominance. She looks like she just got out of a bath. And was upset where she have gone into.

Your breath hitched as your eyes traced the elegant lines of her frame, and you cursed again under your breath, this time at your own weakness. She was breathtaking—hotter than anything your imagine. Seeing her in person didnt do no justice on what you saw on screen. She was impossibly attractive on how you see her.

Her brows frowned before your eyes met. Maybe she felt it—the intensity of your stare, the way you couldn’t look away. The way your gaze have the possibility to devour her.

Her gaze flickered downward, scanning you every inch of your body as you lay there on the bed. Her right brow raised. You shuddered under her scrutiny, your breath hitching in your chest just with her stare alone. God knew. How much the effect this woman can make you. Then, her eyes darted to the faint glow of your phone still lying on the bed.

Her expression changed in an instant, her lips parting slightly.

You followed her gaze, your stomach twisting in horror as you realized what she was looking at—your phone, the light still illuminating your screen.

Your heart stopped.

There, clear as day, was her. Ambessa Medarda. Smiling, confident, every inch the figure she was. Her image—your favorite image of her—boldly displayed on your wallpaper.

Your cheeks burned, humiliation spreading like wildfire through your body. Of all the times, of all the situations—this had to be the moment she saw it when she was right next to you in real life.

Her hand moved before you could react, snatching the phone from the bed.

“Wait!” you gasped, panic breaking through your embarrassment as you sat up abruptly, reaching for it. But Ambessa didn’t flinch.

With a casual motion, she placed her large hand on your shoulder and pushed you back. It wasn’t rough, but the effortles strength behind it was enough to send me stumble back onto the mattress.

The phone was now in her grasp, her sharp eyes scanning the screen. Inspecting the strange object in her hand with curiosity but cautionly.

Good thing she doesn't know what a phone is or else. It would be a death of you. But suddenly out of nowhere her finger swipe the screen. Your jaw dropped in disbelief.

Your breath caught in your throat, your heart lurching as her finger effortlessly moved across the phone, the screen responding as if she’d done it a thousand times before. How could she know how to use it? Was it instinct, or was you just that unlucky? You just remember. You underestimate how intellegent this woman is. She wasn't a warlord for nothing.

You bolted upright, a panicked boldness taking over as you reached out, desperate to snatch it back before she saw anything else.. But before your hand could even graze hers.

“Stay...” Ambessa demanded. Her arm didn’t relent; her gaze bore into you, daring you to defy her.

The word rolled off her tongue, low, smooth, and dripping with something you couldn’t quite place— a hint of seduction that hit you like a lightning bolt.

You froze mid-motion, Your outstretched hand trembling as your body betrayed me. Your knees felt weak and fall back to the bed, your heart pounding not from fear this time but in heat. A warmth bloomed in your chest, sliding lower, pooling deep in my core. You bit down on your lip hard, trying to keep it together, but it was impossible to ignore the wave of hunger rushing through you. You felt ridicolous right now. How can you be horny in this kind of situation.

How could you not? This was all you have been dreaming about for weeks. This wasn’t fear. This was something darker, deeper, something you didn’t dare name.

You felt like a rotten tomato, shame washing over you as you realized—why haven't you put you a password on your phone. How could you be so careless? Your mind raced, imagining the photos, the bookmarks, all of it laid bare for her to see.

Ambessa’s lips curved into the faintest smirk, her eyes still fixed on the glowing screen. She turned the device over in her hands, examining it with an almost childlike curiosity, though her sharp expression was anything but innocent.

“Interesting…” Ambessa murmured, her voice thick with intrigue, her thumb brushing across the smooth glass again. “What kind of object is this, child?”

Her tone sent a shiver down my spine, the word child landing somewhere between teasing and commanding, making you feel both small and utterly exposed.

You swallowed hard, unable to form a single coherent word, your body tense as her gaze flicked back to you.

Ambessa looked at you like you had been caught red-handed, guilty in your act of pleasure. You couldn’t meet her eyes. You cant, in fear all the hunger, the desperation, the crumbling restraint you barely holding together. Instead, you dropped your gaze to the sheets, heat crawling up your neck.

Shit! Your mind screamed at you.

#ambessa #ambessa medarda #ambessa x reader #ambessa x you #fem reader #ambessa smut #arcane x reader #arcane #wlw #arcane x you #wlw nsft #lesbian

196 notes · View notes