#ambessa medarda x fem reader

[reneesghostinthelivingroom]

Most Trusted

|| Ambessa Medarda x fem!reader

|| Warnings; brief swearing, brief mentions of killing but nobody dies, reader & Ambessa naked, hints at intimacy if you read between the lines, reader being absolutely smitten for Ambessa, little dialogue

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

Requests closed!

Started; December 3rd

Finished; December 3rd

HurtCember2024; Day 4, Scars

Author Note; dropping this one a little early! I couldn't wait that extra sixteen minutes. It's midnight somewhere, right? I'm really happy with how this one turned out 🫶

~~~

The bed was warm and comfortable as you snuggled up to Ambessa. Enjoying the small moment of peace the two of you shared. With Ambessa, these moments came rare and few. Comparable to scraps off a table. So, you cherished whatever ones appeared. Living in the moment to its absolute fullest. Your finger tips trailed along Ambessa's scars, having started on the ones on her face. Now trailing those on her shoulder. You couldn't help but admire them. The scars held memories and Ambessa often told you the stories of how she got them. She loved retelling her battles to you. Her many victories, how proud she made her ancestors. You'd hang on to every word. Taking the stories in full. You couldn't believe that Ambessa was your lover. She was strong, powerful, the embodiment of leadership and control. Whenever you heard how much she had achieved, it made you feel like you could be doing more yourself. Ambessa motivated you. She was your inspiration.

Her gaze fell to you, feeling your fingers against her skin. Trailing the old scars with nothing but admiration and love in your eyes. You often looked at her like she placed the stars in the sky for you. She would have, too. If they weren't already there. Ambessa found it adorable how simply you were entertained by her. You seemed to love everything she did. She could be killing someone and you would honestly probably look at her the same. The thought alone amused her. You really did love her and she really did have you wrapped around her finger. She cared for you. Protected you. You were hers just as she was yours.

"Darling... are you simply going to look at me all day?" Ambessa asked, amusement in her tone. Her hand wrapped around your waist. Resting to your ass. Bringing you in closer to her. Your eyes met hers, taking your gaze off her scars. Your head rested to her shoulder and your hand cupped her cheek. Feeling how she leaned into your touch. For a woman with the strength that Ambessa had, it was cute. Watching her soften up for you. Even if it was simply to humour you.

"Couldn't I?" You replied. You often did find yourself staring at her all day, without boredom. It wasn't often the two of you weren't at each other's side. You were her most trusted, after all. Ambessa could see clearly how deep your loyalty for her ran. Like you were sculpted just for her and her alone. She knew you would never betray. It was one of Ambessa's favourite qualities about you; the thing that caught her attention to begin with.

A small chuckle left Ambessa at your response. Couldn't you? She supposed you could. Though, she knew sooner or later the two of you would have to get to work. Maybe explore the local cuisine... she sighed, propping her elbow to the pillow. Fingers resting to the side of her head. Her eyes locking with your own," we have quite the busy day ahead of us. Though.. for you, perhaps we could stay in bed just a little longer. If only to humour you."

Your eyes lit up and you tried getting even closer to her. Sometimes you found yourself wishing the two of you could just merge. Being up against her wasn't enough. Your hand continued its journey along her scars. Only parting way for a moment to feel her lower abs. You could feel Ambessa watching your every movement, like she was calculating what you would do before you did it. You didn't mind. You loved when the tables were flipped and she would watch you instead. It made your whole body feel warm. In ways beyond just temperature. Ambessa allowed you to continue for a moment longer, before she reluctantly pulled herself away from you. Getting out of bed to begin her day. You couldn't help but pout just a bit as the warmth left.

Ambessa got dressed in front of you. Hardly caring if you watched, besides. It wasn't nothing you hadn't already seen from her. She was in no rush to get ready, even if she should have been. Enjoying the little show she was putting on for you. Once she was clothed, Ambessa looked to you. A subtle smirk dancing on her lips," if you keep your mouth open like that you'll swallow a fly," she teased.

You blinked, haven't even realizing that your mouth had opened slightly. You quickly closed it and scrambled out of bed. A blush dusting your cheeks. Looking through your drawers, you pulled out your clothes for the day. Ambessa would lean herself over your shoulder. Suggesting what she would like to see you in. You hardly minded. You loved dressing for her.

Once dressed, Ambessa gave you a nod of approval. You joined her at her side and she placed a kiss to your cheek. Her hand resting to your shoulder with a firm hold before the two of you left the room. Beginning your day.

[cheyisagirlkisser]

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.

[hcneymooners]

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.

⋅˚₊‧ 🕯୨୧ 🦪 ‧₊˚ ⋅

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.

[ruinedsapphic]

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..

[kdyq]

Dinner date

Context: Ambessa takes you on the fine dine for the night.

Ambessa x Fem!reader

The carriage rattled softly along the cobblestone streets of Piltover the faint hum of Hextech lights flickering in the distance. You sat beside Ambessa her towering presence dominating the small space though she somehow made you feel entirely at ease. She was dressed impeccably as always her sharp suit tailored to perfection a lion’s head pin glinting on her lapel.

You glanced at her the flicker of candlelight from the streetlamps casting shadows across her strong jawline. She caught you staring and smirked her golden eyes gleaming with amusement.

“Enjoying the view already?” she teased her deep voice sending a shiver down your spine.

You rolled your eyes though you couldn’t help the smile tugging at your lips. “Maybe. It’s not every day I get to see you like this relaxed not plotting world domination.”

Ambessa chuckled the sound low and warm. “Consider tonight a gift then. No schemes no politics just us.”

The carriage pulled to a stop in front of an elegant restaurant its entrance flanked by glowing lanterns and lush greenery. A private table awaited you inside tucked away in a quiet corner the perfect mix of luxury and intimacy.

Dinner was an indulgent affair. Ambessa ordered the finest wines her deep voice stern with authority as she charmed the staff. Each course was better than the last and though the food was exquisite it was her company that made the night unforgettable.

She leaned forward as you talked her intense gaze never wavering as if you were the only thing in the world worth focusing on. Her hand occasionally brushed yours across the table the simple touch sending sparks through you.

“You know” she said swirling her wine lazily in its glass “I don’t do this often.”

“What? Take over entire restaurants?” you teased.

She smirked her eyes narrowing slightly. “Spend time like this. Unhurried. Not planning the next step.” She paused her expression softening. “You make it worth it.”

Your cheeks warmed at the rare vulnerability in her voice. “Well you’re doing a good job. I almost forgot you’re terrifying most of the time.”

Ambessa laughed a deep rich sound that echoed in the quiet space. “Good. I like keeping you on your toes.”

After dinner she led you to the balcony where the view of the Piltover skyline stretched endlessly before you. The city lights sparkled like stars and the cool night air was a welcome relief after the warmth of the restaurant.

But as she leaned down to kiss you knew there was nothing else she’d rather be doing.

Ambessa stood behind you her hands resting lightly on your waist as she pulled you closer. Her warmth was a stark contrast to the chill of the night and you leaned into her sighing contentedly.

“Do you ever miss it?” you asked your voice quiet. “The constant fight the adrenaline?”

Ambessa tilted her head thoughtfully her lips brushing against the top of your head. “Sometimes. But then I have nights like this and I realize there are other things worth fighting for.”

You turned in her arms to face her your hands resting on her chest. “That might be the most romantic thing you’ve ever said to me.”

“Don’t get used to it” she teased her smirk returning.

“THE END”

AN: I really love the stories I come up with about Ambessa

[shimtarofstupidity]

(Part one)

Part two

[dieseldame]

𝗕𝗲𝗶𝗻𝗴 𝘁𝗵𝗲 𝗣𝗿𝗶𝗲𝘀𝘁𝗲𝘀𝘀 𝗼𝗳 𝗔𝗺𝗯𝗲𝘀𝘀𝗮 𝗪𝗼𝘂𝗹𝗱 𝗜𝗻𝗰𝗹𝘂𝗱𝗲:

Ambessa does not choose lightly. The goddess of war demands more than service; she demands complete devotion. Her mark, a sigil of intertwining blades and flames, rests somewhere only she can admire—hidden, intimate, and undeniably hers. It burns when you stray too far, a reminder of who you belong to.

“ Her hands brushed the edge of your robes, exposing the skin where the mark lay—a place sacred, unseen by any but her.

— Mine. — she murmured, her fingers tracing the pattern etched into your flesh. The heat of her touch mirrored the fire of the mark.

— Always. — you whispered, your voice trembling under the weight of her claim. ”

Ambessa is a goddess who revels in both carnage and opulence. She accepts offerings of blood from enemies slain in her name and treasures—gold, weapons, and rare jewels—that speak to her insatiable appetite for dominance. But what pleases her most are the songs and prayers you craft with your own voice, raw and unyielding as a battlefield anthem.

“ You knelt before her altar, your voice steady despite the tremor in your limbs. The melody you sang was ancient, a hymn passed down by priestesses long before you.

Behind you, the air shifted. A presence loomed.

— You honor me well, — Ambessa’s voice resonated, low and commanding. — But next time, bring something sharper. ”

Her temple is not a place of peace. It is a fortress of stone and iron, adorned with banners of crimson and black. Statues of Ambessa tower over the halls, each one capturing her in battle—blade in hand, a triumphant snarl on her lips. The walls are lined with weapons gifted by her most loyal followers, and the scent of incense mingles with that of steel and leather.

“ You scrubbed the altar, careful to avoid spilling even a drop of the sacred oil. Ambessa’s eyes seemed to watch you from the statue above, carved in gleaming obsidian.

— You’ve missed a spot. — her voice broke through the silence, smooth and sharp.

Turning, you found her leaning against the doorway, arms crossed, a smirk on her face.

— Perhaps you’d like to clean it yourself, my goddess? — you dared to tease, and her laughter was low and dangerous. ”

In addition to her mark, Ambessa demands a visible token of her presence. Around your neck hangs an amulet—a blade encased in amber, forever poised to strike. It is both a weapon and a reminder that you are always armed with her favor.

“ The chain rested heavily against your collarbone, its weight a constant comfort. When you faltered, when doubt crept in, the amber caught the light, blazing like the fire in her eyes.

— Do not forget, — she had said when she placed it around your neck, her fingers brushing your skin. — You carry me with you, always. ”

Your worship is not passive. Ambessa expects action. She sends you into battle, demanding victories in her name, and tasks you with maintaining the sanctity of her temple with ruthless precision. Every prayer is accompanied by movement—a dance with blades or the sharpening of steel.

“ You stood in the training yard, your hands bloodied from wielding the sword she had blessed. Ambessa’s presence loomed behind you, watching your every move.

— Good, — she said as you disarmed an opponent with a swift strike. — Now again. And do not disappoint me.

Her praise was rare, but when it came, it burned brighter than the sun. ”

Ambessa does not soften easily, but when she does, it is in the way she speaks your name—or doesn’t. Instead, she calls you "little flame," "my blade," or simply "mine," her voice turning these simple words into promises laced with dominance and desire.

“ — Come here, my little flame. — she purred, beckoning you closer with a curl of her finger.

You obeyed, heat rushing to your cheeks as her hand found its place at the nape of your neck.

— You’ve been loyal, — she murmured, her breath warm against your ear. — And loyalty deserves its rewards. ”

Ambessa’s discipline is as sharp as her blades. To serve her means you must meet her expectations, and failure carries consequences. Her punishments are never cruel for cruelty’s sake, but they are unyielding—meant to sharpen you, to mold you into the weapon she requires.

“ — On your knees. — she commanded, her voice a blade slicing through the silence of the temple.

The weight of her gaze pinned you to the stone floor. You knelt without hesitation, your breath caught in your chest as she paced around you.

— You think I tolerate weakness? — Her fingers traced your chin, lifting your head to meet her eyes. — I do not. But I will make you stronger.

Her touch left behind a burn that lingered long after she turned away. ”

Before every battle, you lead the rituals in her name. These are no quiet ceremonies—they are roars of defiance, chants that echo with the clash of swords and the cries of warriors. Your voice carries her will, and her favor surges through you, a power as intoxicating as it is overwhelming.

“ The temple was alive with sound, the warriors kneeling before the altar, their fists pounding against their chests in time with the rhythm of your chant.

— Ambessa, goddess of war, take this blood, take this steel. Guide us to victory! — you cried, raising your arms as the flames on the altar flared.

From the shadows, Ambessa watched, her golden eyes glowing with pride. — They will fight well, — she said, her voice a low hum in your mind.

— Because they fight for you. ”

For all her ferocity, Ambessa’s love is overwhelming in its intensity. She does not love lightly or gently; she loves like a storm, fierce and all-consuming. She demands all of you and gives all of herself in return, leaving no room for doubt.

“ She pulled you close, her armor cold against your skin, her strength enveloping you like a shield.

— Do you know why I chose you? — she asked, her voice a low murmur against your temple.

You shook your head, unable to speak.

— Because you burn brighter than any flame, — she said, her lips brushing your ear. — And I would raze the world before I let that light go out. ”

Ambessa’s presence is a constant push and pull—fear and adoration entwined. To serve her is to walk a razor’s edge, knowing that she could destroy you as easily as she lifts you to greatness.

“ She stood above you, a vision of power and dominance, her eyes gleaming with something that made your knees weak.

— Do you fear me? — she asked, her voice quiet but laced with danger.

— Yes. — you admitted, your voice trembling.

Her smirk was slow, predatory. — Good. Fear keeps you sharp. But remember this, — Her hand cupped your cheek, surprisingly gentle. — I do not destroy what I cherish. ”

Squint and you'll see something. Just suggestive.

For Ambessa, intimacy is another form of worship. She revels in the sight of you kneeling before her, not just out of duty but because you crave her touch, her approval. The temple becomes your sanctuary, and she, your altar.

“ The stone floor was cold beneath your knees, but you barely noticed, your focus entirely on the goddess before you. Ambessa sat on her throne, legs parted slightly, her commanding presence filling the sacred space. Her fingers curled beneath your chin, lifting your gaze to meet hers.

— Do you know why I chose you? — she asked, her voice a velvet purr.

You swallowed hard, your heart pounding. — Because I'm yours. — you whispered.

Her smirk deepened, and she leaned forward, her lips brushing against your ear. — Good. Show me. ”

Ambessa's dominance is undeniable- she takes what she wants without hesitation, her every action deliberate and calculated. Yet, her touch is never careless; it is a blend of raw power and exquisite precision, designed to leave you trembling and craving more.

“ Her hands pinned yours above your head, her grip unyielding as her body pressed against yours.

— You're trembling, — she murmured, her lips ghosting along the curve of your neck. — Is it fear? Or anticipation?

— Both. — you admitted, your voice barely audible.

She chuckled darkly, her teeth nipping at your skin. — Good. Let me show you what it means to surrender to a goddess. ”

When you've pleased her-truly earned her favor-Ambessa rewards you with indulgent pleasure, drawing it out until you're left breathless and undone. She takes her time, savoring every moment as if she's claiming not just your body but your very soul.

“ Her hands roamed your body with a surprising tenderness, her touch slow and deliberate as if she were memorizing every inch of you.

— You've done well, my little flame — she said, her voice softer than you'd ever heard it. — And I always reward loyalty.

Her lips trailed a path down your body, her kisses lingering, her breath warm against your skin. Each touch sent sparks racing through your veins, building until you were begging for release.

— Patience, — she chided, her smirk wicked. — I'm not finished with you yet. ”

Ambessa's voice alone is enough to unravel you. Her commands, her praises, her teasing-all carry a weight that leaves you helpless to resist. She delights in using this power, knowing the effect she has on you.

“ — Look at me, — she ordered, her tone firm but enticing.

Your eyes met hers, and the intensity of her gaze made your breath catch.

— Good girl, — she said, her smirk tugging at the corner of her lips. — Now, let's see how well you obey. ”

Though she rarely speaks of love, Ambessa's actions make her feelings clear. She protects you fiercely, her possessiveness extending beyond the walls of her temple. In her arms, you feel both safe and utterly consumed.

“ After the rituals were complete, she pulled you close, her armor cool against your bare skin. Her hands traced your body with a gentleness that contrasted with her usual ferocity.

— You are mine, — she whispered, her voice soft but unwavering. — My priestess, my flame, my everything.

Her lips claimed yours, the kiss a perfect blend of passion and control, leaving you breathless and utterly hers. ”

ㅤㅤㅤ

[she-walks-on-starlight]

Negotiations

a/n: This is Day 2! So sorry it's late, I was hospitalised over the weekend which put me behind! I'm working hard to catch up hehe

Pairing: Ambessa Medarda x Fem!Reader

Prompt: Write a scene without any dialogue

Warnings: smut, vaginal fingering, public sex, alcohol drinking, slight dom-sub vibes, mentions of violence, mention of blood

Summary: Ambessa hates negotiating, no matter how important it is for her rule. Perhaps she will make herself some entertainment to find it more enjoyable...

Word Count: 1.1k

18+ | MEN AND MINORS DNI | 18+

You know Ambessa finds these meetings the most tedious part of ruling over Noxus. She finds little meaning or use in negotiations, far more used to greeting political rivals and ambitious warlords with her sword at their throat than breaking bread with them. It is a preposterous notion to her, attempting to appease her perceived enemies. As she presides over the emissaries and nobles at the head of the table, you know she is listening keenly, identifying weakness, and sniffing out any hidden agendas. Noxian custom is steeped in violence, and there was a time that Ambessa would be demanding fealty or these peoples’ heads.

But things are different for her now. Now, her daughter Mel has agreed to remain in contact with her and visit Noxus more often with her consort, Jayce. Ambessa can breathe easier knowing that rebuilding the bridge between herself, and her daughter will secure her legacy and ensure that a Medarda inherits the throne upon Ambessa’s death.

She has you now. Seated to her right, close by so she can always see you. Her consort, the love she never thought she’d find again. You’ve dressed yourself in a scarlet red ensemble tonight, complete with a gold medallion belt accentuating your hips. Red and gold, her favourite colours. The colours of war and victory. Conquest. You’ve already caught her more than once tonight, her eyes raking down your figure, her eyes hungry and her tongue darting out to wet her lips. When your eyes meet, she flashes you a fanged smile, no doubt envisioning the many ways she will take you when this insufferable night is over.

You’re drawn to one of the visiting emissaries booming laughter as he gulps down wine and flirts boisterously with the serving girls as they refill his plate and his cup. You try to suppress your smile as you take in Ambessa’s disgust, knowing she’d want nothing more than to pick up the lout like a ragdoll and smash him into the ornate mahogany dining table, likely shattering it in the process.

The image sends an unexpected but not entirely unwelcome rush of heat between your legs. You squeeze your thighs as you imagine her leering down at the man, twitching as blood leaks from his head and then turns to you with her signature smirk. The very same smirk that ushered you into her bed three years ago, at another function where Ambessa was more interested in the wine selection than the purpose of the gathering. The scandal had rocked the court of Noxus, their esteemed leader engaging in an ill-advised relationship with a younger woman, and the daughter of an insignificant noble. She had silenced their doubts in her usual way, with threats of broken bones and removed tongues.

At first, you were convinced that she wanted only for your body, the way she tasted and marked your flesh during your visits bruising you with carnal possession. She was a tornado of fire, and you were blessed to be at the heart of the inferno. Countless nights you found yourself in awe of her, in awe of your luck. Nights spent with shaking legs, dripping with sweat and your own release as she made you scream her name for her over and over again. She was never satisfied with hearing your desperate pleas and devoted prayers to her only once. You never feared her, and knew she would never hurt you, not unless you asked her to.

But she soon proved to you that she wanted more, much more, than what your body could give her. She wanted you by her side always, listening to her stories of long-forgotten battles on distant shores, showing off your new dresses, massaging away her troubles in the bathhouse. She had fallen hard for you, an unexpected light leading her out of the darkness.

You’re startled out of your reminiscing by a hand creeping up your dress, invited in by the high riding slit at the thigh. You gulp as Ambessa’s face remains completely impassive as she sips at her wine, but you don’t miss the quick glance she sends your way, and you know exactly what she’s trying to say.

Be quiet. Don’t move. And enjoy.

Her hand climbs higher, and you hear her try in vain to supress the deep rumbling groan that threatens to emanate from her throat when she finds no underwear to stop her advance. You’re already wet from your earlier fantasising, and your clit is throbbing, begging for her attention. As she drags calloused fingers through your folds, you grit your teeth and grip the table tightly. You’re in for a ride, and regardless of the social setting, Ambessa will expect you to take what she gives you.

She wastes no time in gathering the slick pooling from you, coating her fingers before she pushes one inside. Her fingers are thick, and no matter how used to the stretch you’ve become, you relish in the burn as your pussy eagerly welcomes her inside. Your knuckles are white with how hard you’re holding on and you’re fighting to keep your breathing even, lest one of your guests suspect something’s wrong. Ambessa would hate to be interrupted.

She’s adding a second finger, smirking into her wine as she can feel you tighten around her. You can feel the pressure mounting in your belly, your entire body aching for release. You shoot her a pleading look and feel her curl her fingers in response. You start to see spots at the edge of your vision as she brings you closer and closer, all while engaging in dull conversation. Gods, you were going to make her pay for this later. Her thumb is pressing roughly against your clit in swift, calculated circles, you can feel her determination to send you tumbling over the edge. Soon enough, you are doing just that, but you’re hurtling not simply falling. Your orgasm hits you like a searing meteorite, burning through you with force and it takes all of your self-control not to cry out, biting down on your lip so hard you draw blood. You cover it up quickly by taking a sip of wine, dabbing at your mouth with your napkin and glaring at Ambessa reproachfully. She takes no notice, leaning back in her chair with a self-satisfied grin.

Shaking your head, you try to reintegrate yourself into the conversation, though none of it holds your interest. Instead, you find yourself consumed by thoughts of your handsome warrior, trailing over each scar you can see and thinking fondly of all the ones you cannot but know intimately. You will reward her mischief with a soothing massage and relaxing oils tonight, it’s been far too long since you’ve caressed her bulging muscles. But you will deny her the taste of your flesh until she begs, a fitting punishment for tonight’s shenanigans. After all, no matter what the nobles of Noxus or the visiting emissaries of foreign lands may think, no matter how imposing Ambessa may appear, you know that there is only person she will fall to her knees for. Tonight, you will make her remember why.  

[p-taryn-dactyl]

I saw you were taking Ambessa request so I've had something in mind for weeks now because I just love that milf. Sorry for the bad spelling and grammar.

Ambessa x priestess! Reader from a country she helped conquer. The country is run by the priestesses so when the reader is brought to Ambessa with the other priestesses Ambessa finds the reader interesting because she's the only one not scared.

This can a series of you want it to beI've asked so many people and they never end up doing it or they go inactive🥲

a/n: hi! i really like this prompt and hopefully i did it justice 🫶🏻 if y'all want this to be a series it can be! also, this is for all requests, if you want 🌶️ plz mention it in request bc i feel weird just adding it word count: 1.7k warning(s): i mean ambessa is not exactly the best person however she's hot; mentions of blood and battle; suggestiveness; use of y/n; manipulation? tag(s): @thesevi0lentdelights @sevyscoven

all things end

The halls you once danced through as a child were now stained with blood, smeared with the resistance of your people. Noxian soldiers formed a wall around you and your fellow priestesses as you were paraded through the halls of the castle, the survivors of the Noxian invasion, desperate for a glimpse of their leaders, formed a crowd. The soldiers pushed through the people, their skin stained with blood and their weapons drawn. Your kingdom wasn't one of war, your people unfamiliar with the craft of violence. To Noxus, you were soft, a country pliable enough to shape in their vision. You knew where the soldiers were taking you, the path one you had walked every morning since becoming a Priestess of Zhritsa. The center of the castle, where you would go to do your morning prayers, to feel the sun through the stained glass window on the ceiling, to hear the requests your people would bring to you. It was the hub of your government, the place where decisions happened.

Now it was where Ambessa Medarda waited.

Following Zhritsan custom, you and your fellow Priestesses wore white veils of mourning, the pure fabric growing dirty as you dragged your feet towards what you assumed was death. A mask of marble weighed heavy on your face, grounding you to reality. In one last act of defiance, you had convinced your fellow priestesses to follow you in donning your ceremonial crowns, sending the message of being the true rulers of Zhritsa. The attire of the Priestesses of Zhritsa was rumored to have scared off countless conquerors, the ghostly movements of the veils and the emotionless masks where only the eyes could be seen were now your only hope in making the Noxian invaders leave.

Suddenly, the soldiers stopped, their spears hitting the ground rhythmically as they parted, revealing Ambessa sitting upon the middle throne, her posture comanding and confident. Upon seeing all of you, you noticed an unsettled expression flash through Ambessa's eyes before it was replaced by the stare of the Wolf. She stood, waving her hand through the air.

"Lift your veils and remove your masks, I belive I am owed the faces of the former rulers of this...quaint kingdom."

Your resolve grew stronger as you lifted your veil, your hands steady as you removed your mask, your eyes glaring straight ahead at the warmonger. Your fellow Priestesses, however, shook with fear as their veils were raised and their masks removed. One of your sisters dropped her mask, the shattering of the marble echoing throughout the chamber. Noxian soldiers moved forward as if her clumsiness was an attack, you moved just as quick, standing in front of her, your eyes daring the soldiers to get closer as your Sister picked up the shards of her mask with shaking hands. Ambessa watched you with careful precision, making her way down the steps of the throne, her steps surprisingly quiet. The soldiers stood down as she grew closer, your defiant gaze now settled on her. She smirked lightly, removing her war mask, raising an eyebrow.

"There. Now we can all see each other." Her eyes held a type of humor that didn't amuse you. You didn't ignore the way blood was splattered across her towering form, reminding you of the countless lives of your people she slaughtered to get where she is. Ambessa grew closer to you, her eyes analysing you. Your eyes never left hers, willing to die in one last act of resistance for your country. The Noxian soldiers had stripped you of any weapons, even the ceremonial knives with blunt edges. However, in your stance in front of your Sister, you, as stealthily as possible, had picked up one of the shards of the broken mask. You lunged forward, the pathetic excuse of a weapon in your hand, aiming for her throat. Like it was a simple game, Ambessa maneuvered expertly, grapping your wrist and twisting with just enough force that the piece of mask fell from your hand where she kicked it away. Her grip on your wrist was firm, yet not painful as she pulled you close to her. You had to look up to see her face, her expression one of withheld laughter.

"She'll come with me. Take the others away."

The soldiers acted immediately, grabbing your Sisters and pulling them out of the room, their cries sending daggers into your soul. You struggled against Ambessa's grip on your arm as she too started leaving the room.

Was this how you were to die? Alone and by the hands of Ambessa Medarda? Surely she was dragging you to certain death, as a wolf has no mercy. Yet as you were pulled through the familiar halls of the castle, you felt her grip grow softer. Soon it was as if you were holding hands with the woman who was covered in the blood of your people. She stopped in front of a familiar set of doors, your stomach dropping as you realized you now stood in front of your chambers. Ambessa turned to look at you, cocking her head slightly and raising an eyebrow. Her hand left your wrist, instead now taking its place on your lower back as she pushed you forward lightly.

"Open the doors, my Lady." Her voice held a mocking tone, yet you detected a hint of warmth, sending your mind spiralling in confusion. You wanted to defy her, stand your ground against letting her into your room, but your eyes fell on the sword hanging from Ambessa's hips. If you could prolong your life by even a few minutes, you would. Holding your head high, you twisted the handle, pushing the doors open, revealing your room. Ambessa stepped in first, looking around before walking over to the balcony, where you could see your kingdom in almost it's entirety. Cautiously, you went to stand next to the imposing woman, some of the fight drained from you as you imagined your Sisters being tortured under the Noxian soldiers hands. Was it because of your outburst that they were taken away?

In your thoughts, you had grasped the railing of your balcony, your eyes unfocused as your thoughts spiraled.

"Don't tell me you've lost that fire in your eyes." Ambessa's rich voice broke you from your spiral, her words causing you to spin around to face her, bringing the anger back to your face.

"Why?" You spit out, "Do you want to watch it die out as you kill me in my room?"

Ambessa almost looked taken aback, like she didn't expect the venom dripping from your words. Still, she carefully composed herself, moving so now she caged you in on the balcony with her muscular arms. Her eyes were glued to yours, making you unable to look away. There was a light smirk on her lips as she spoke.

"There it is. I have no interest in killing you, Y/N. You've caught my interest with your fire, your willingness to fight back even though," she interupted herself with a laugh before continuing, "there was no chance of you winning. I admire that." You stood frozen as her eyes examined your face. Being this close to the general, you felt your anger slip slightly, feeling heat rise to your cheeks as you realized just how intimidatingly beautiful she was. It bothered you, how someone who's committed such horrible acts could be one of the most beautiful women you've ever seen. Ambessa took a step back, her arms no longer caging you in and you felt annoyed at yourself for being disappointed.

"We're going to be here a while, my soldiers and I. I would rather not have to spill any more senseless blood," She walked back into your room, expecting you to follow her and you did, "You've shown strength while others reek of weakness. Know this, young one, this isn't an act of mercy. Keeping you alive keeps stronger enemies at bay." She sat on your bed, leaning forward on her knees and clasping her hands together as she continued to pierce you with her gaze. You didn't know where to go, a stranger in your own room. You just returned her gaze, once more holding up your chin as you responded.

"And what is the price for this act of 'non-mercy'?" You decided that if she was letting you live, you would at least be yourself, cocking your head to the side and raising an eyebrow. You also crossed your arms, a grounding position for you as Ambessa just smiled at your petulance. She beckoned you to stand in front of her, positioning you so you know stood in between her thighs. One of her heads took it's place on your waist while the other cupped your chin and held her face in place so you were now eye to eye. Her touch sent chills down your spine, a flash of anger going through you as how your body was reacting to your countries conqueror.

"Show me more of your fire, teach me more about Zhrista so that my protection isn't just at the surface. All I ask is loyalty and all your needs will be met."

All my needs? Your mind supplied unhelpfully, making you unintentionally blush as you pushed those thoughts away, though it was hard with how Ambessa's eyes were looking into yours, awaiting an answer. You still held contempt for the woman in front of you, however your mind thought through Ambessa's offer. Your kingdom was a beautiful one, yes, strong only in trade and exports, your military lacking in skills of war. Ambessa's presence, while slightly annoying, could help strengthen your people's safety. You thought about your fellow Sisters, your certainty of their deaths fading away as you continued to examine Ambessa's expression.

You came to a decision, one that would change the course of your life and the trajectory of your kingdom forever.

Boldly, you got as close to Ambessa as you could without being in her lap, reveling the slight surprise her eyes radiated. You felt her grip on your waist tighten as you nodded, silently giving your agreement.

If she wanted your fire, you would set her ablaze.

a/n: hi! i hope this wasn't awful, im still new to writing for arcane, let alone ambessa (love her so much, it's a concern). thank you for reading!!

[portals-posts]

Wife!Ambessa Medarda Headcanons!!

A/n: HEY YALL, i hope you guys love it as much as I do, also if 9,10& 11 seem like their written weird, i had the last part all ready done, but i forgot to save, cause im an idiot😓.

* To people on the outside. Ambessa is a hard, scary, worthless warlod, but to you shes a caring and gentle wife, who will and has spoiled you rotten

* Ambessa worships the ground you walk on(and vice versa) and really let you do whatever you what! (You want to throw a massive tea party with the most lavish desserts in all of Noxus for just the two of you? You got it!, A quiet gourment meal in bed,in your low dark red glowing room? Ofcourse!)

* Speaking of your room, your shared bedroom haves the silkiest(?)beadsheet in all of the land. Will that,matching silk nightgowns(that only you really wear, cause she perfers to sleep nude..🫣)

*ANYWAYS, she only get you the finest care products their is to offer, and the prettiest etherial dresses from you fave bouqutie!

* All that and more, while still having a protective eye over you and with only the best of the best gaurds to watch you when she cant

* If ANYONE tries to hurt you in anyway(wheater its the biggest or smallest harm to you) she'll deal with them immediatly! Because youre the love of her live, and she doesnt want to lose her family

*Yall are THE hot rich lesbians at any event. With matching colored outfits(mainly red, gold and black) Ambessa in her heavy 'armored' suit and you in your thick, long silk(ambessa really loves silk) dress

* After a long night of dancing for her, and holding on to Ambessa, as she talked(threatened) with other leaders.

* Ambessa carries you with ease to your bedroom, takes off you makeup, and changes you into you nightclothes.

*Now, Ambessa can sleep soundly, with her head on her land and younplating with her hair knowing your safe with her.

A/n: Hiii, i'm still have a few Arcane full writings in my draft so be aware(?)for those!

[reneesghostinthelivingroom]

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.)

[cheyisagirlkisser]

Amnesia nsfw brat taming pls ik she’d be so deliciously mean ☺️

AMNESIA LMAO i hope u mean ambessa..well 18+ content below. Consider this your late xmas present

The way that Ambessa tames you is unlike your average dom. There is a real dynamic there, and she doesn’t care what you think you want, instead focusing on whatever it is that she thinks you need.

She likes her women to be good at serving. If she wants you to be on your knees with your tongue sticking out, she won’t tell you twice. If she has her own appetite, she expects you to be laid on your back with your legs spread in her bed. Usually you know better than to get bratty with her, but..

In the case that you think you can get the upper hand over her or want to get bratty just to test her, she’s quick to shut you down. She won’t touch you when you act out, won’t even give you the time of day. If you managed to rile her up, it may be even worse than that.

“You think I owe you something for serving me? You’re lucky I even let you do that.” So rude, but you crave it.

It’s not the true definition of brat taming, but there are some exceptions for her that she is really willing to put you in her place. She does it to serve her own interests, though. To entertain herself.

It’ll be something like Ambessa liking the way your ass recoils when she slaps it. At first, it was just something between the two of you that you enjoyed, letting her grope your ass and squeeze it, giving it the occasional slap.

If you misbehave? It may be inconvenient for her, but she will enjoy the chance to bend you over her knee and have her way with your ass, it just happens to be a punishment. If you get back in her good graces and suck up to her enough to earn back your role as her good girl, she will fortunately move on from whatever it is that you said or did with not much of a fuss.

[hcneymooners]

⋆ arcane but it's a private university au ( for the girls: pt. ii )

ice princess!f!reader x multi. f!characters. men & minors dni.

synopsis: private university!arcane headcanons but it’s really specific bc it’s based on my time at catholic private school except this au is just a private hold the catholic.

cw: this part contains scenarios for jinx, sevika, & ambessa. writing for jinx was actually my favorite portion (ambessa, please forgive me.) suggestive content. notes: i love them so bad. you can find part one here. i didn't include the intro since i did it in the first one! i love you.

jinx : the "bad influence." 

୨୧ the two of you met mid-sprint, fleeing a party broken up by the police. it was one of those raw, electric moments where adrenaline surges and strangers become allies in chaos.

୨୧ in the frenzied escape, she tripped, her knees hitting the pavement hard. without hesitation, you yanked her up, kicking away an overzealous officer with surprising precision.

୨୧ all you caught were glimpses: two impossibly long blue braids swinging like a pendulum and wide, heavily-lashed pink eyes that lingered on yours, a strange curiosity etched into their neon stare.

୨୧ your fingers found hers without thinking, and together you ran—your heeled feet stumbling across glitter-streaked concrete littered with shattered glass and discarded red cups.

୨୧ the chase ended in a hole-in-the-wall thai spot, rain pouring in sheets outside. bundled in your oversized vintage fur coat, dark brown and impossibly warm, you glanced at her—soaked, shivering, and unapologetically smug.

୨୧ against every instinct, you shifted, lifting the bulk of your coat to drape over her smaller frame. pressed close, you felt the cold bite of her skin and the cherry tang of her perfume, thick and sharp. her stomach—toned, pale, and adorned with vibrant tattoos—drew your attention as it flexed when she flagged down the waitress.

୨୧ she was so deeply beautiful and so fucking close to you and you’re shivering and wet together.

୨୧ silence settled between you as she grew overly familiar, stealing bites from your plate and feeding you egg rolls with a crooked grin. her nails scraped against your bottom lip, and she laughed when you blinked, stunned, swallowing more than just food.

୨୧ at some point, she leaned in, stealing a sip from your drink, her lips lingering on the rim.

୨୧ you paid.

୨୧ "thanks, ice princess," she murmured as you left. only then did it hit you—she knew you. you must’ve crossed paths on campus, and yet, she felt like a stranger from a different world.

୨୧ she pressed a glossy pink kiss to your cheek, saluted with mock reverence, and vanished into the seedy underbelly of the city.

୨୧ you thought about her for weeks.

୨୧ you didn’t expect to see her again. but days later, there she was on campus, leaning against the vending machine in your dorm building like she belonged there.

୨୧ “ice princess,” she greeted, that crooked grin pulling at her lips. “guess we’re neighbors.”

୨୧ you didn’t know what to say. it was one thing to pull a stranger out of trouble and share a meal in some forgotten corner of the city. it was another to see her here, part of your world, like she’d been there all along.

୨୧ she started showing up more often after that—slipping into your study sessions at the library, tagging along when you grabbed coffee. she was loud and reckless, her laughter echoing off the quiet walls, drawing stares that you pretended not to notice.

୨୧ it wasn’t long before she started pushing you out of your comfort zone. sneaking you into underground parties, dragging you to rooftop hangouts where the city stretched out beneath you, glittering and endless.

୨୧ she made you feel alive in a way you hadn’t realized you were missing.

୨୧ you couldn’t stop staring at her tattoos, the colorful, intricate designs that covered her stomach and arms. one night, without thinking, you reached out to trace a line along her skin.

୨୧ she caught your hand before you could pull back, her fingers curling around yours. “you like ‘em, huh, mama?” she said, her voice low and teasing. your cheeks burned, and you stammered something incoherent, but she only laughed, pressing your palm flat against her stomach. “gonna get one just for you. we can match.”

୨୧ she had a habit of being overly familiar—feeding you bites of her food, letting her fingers linger against your lips as you swallowed. one time, her thumb brushed your bottom lip, and you caught her smirk as she let her teeth graze her fork, slow and deliberate.

୨୧ you knew you were falling for her. it was impossible not to. the way she leaned in close when she talked, her perfume sweet and enticing, her lips always just a little too close. the way she made you feel like the only person in the room, even in a crowd.

୨୧ not everyone saw her the way you did. when someone from your social circle made a snide comment about her, you didn’t hesitate to defend her. “she’s smarter than all of you combined,” you snapped, your voice colder than ice. “and she’s got more heart than you’ll ever understand.”

୨୧ it was after that that she started pulling away. her laughter came less easily, her touch less frequent.

୨୧ “you don’t get it,” she told you one night, her voice brittle. “i’m… broken. you shouldn’t—”

୨୧ “jinx,” you interrupted, your tone firm but gentle. “i’m from a legacy family. and, according to my family, i "choose" to like girls. i’m definitely fucked up. so how could i judge you?”

୨୧ she stared at you for a long moment, her eyes softening, and for the first time, she was at a loss for words.

୨୧ your first kiss wasn’t rushed or reckless. it was quiet, heavy with the weight of everything building between you. 

୨୧ you were sitting together on the roof of her sister’s apartment, the city lights stretching out below, and she was looking at you like she wanted to say something but didn’t know how.

୨୧ “you’re staring,” you teased, your voice barely above a whisper.

୨୧ “yeah,” she said, her grin softer than you’d ever seen it. “so what?”

୨୧ before you could answer, she leaned in, her lips brushing against yours like a question. when you didn’t pull away, she kissed you deeper, her hand cupping your jaw, her thumb tracing your cheekbone.

୨୧ she tasted like strawberry chapstick and danger, and you never wanted to let her go. when she finally pulled back, her forehead resting against yours, she smiled.

୨୧ “told you,” she murmured, her voice soft and warm. “you’re stuck with me now.”

୨୧ you smiled back, cheeks aching. "i'm not stuck. i'm right where i want to be." ୨୧ she leaned back, dragging you into her lap. a slender finger dipped into your skirt's waistband and fingered the lace dip of your panties. your breath hitched, and she kissed your throat. "c'mon. lemme hear you, mama."

୨୧ from that moment on, you were hers—completely, irrevocably hers.

p.s you say fuck it, choose her over your fuck ass homophobic family, get disowned, get married, start a million dollar engineering empire, & have isha. 

sevika: the older student.

୨୧ you first noticed her in your advanced biochem lab—all sharp angles and calculated movements, her mechanical arm gleaming under fluorescent lights as she measured solutions with military precision. 

୨୧ sevika was notorious among grad students: brilliant, ruthless, and absolutely not interested in working with undergrads. which made it particularly unfortunate when professor silco paired you together for the semester's research project.

୨୧ she was older than most students—whispers said she dropped out years ago and came back after “handling some things.” no one was brave enough to ask what that meant, but her reputation kept most people at arm’s length.

୨୧ her expression when your name was called could have curdled milk. you lifted your chin, met her gaze steadily, and pretended your heart wasn't racing. 

୨୧ sevika didn’t bother to introduce herself. she just crossed her arms over her broad chest and grumbled, “you’re doing the talking.” her voice was low, almost lazy.

୨୧ "i'm not carrying dead weight," she said at your first session. you noticed a scar bisecting her left eye, the way her jaw clenched when she spoke. "if we're doing this, we do it my way." “thought you said i’d be talking,” you snapped back.

୨୧ 'her way' meant late nights in the lab, your designer clothes traded for practical cotton, hair pulled back from your face. she worked you relentlessly, expecting perfection in every measurement, every calculation. but beneath her harsh exterior, you caught glimpses of something else—the way she'd correct your form without mockery, how she'd appear with coffee when your hands started shaking from exhaustion.

୨୧ it was after one of these late sessions that it happened. you were walking back to your dorm, mind fuzzy with fatigue and feet stumbling, when rough hands grabbed you from behind. before you could scream, a low voice cut through the darkness: "let her go, or i remove your hands permanently."

୨୧ sevika stood there, golden eyes burning in the streetlight, her mechanical arm whirring softly. the would-be mugger took one look at her and ran. you stayed frozen, heart thundering in your chest, until she clicked her tongue in disapproval. “get it together, princess. come on."

୨୧ she led you to an alcove and watched you flutter with delayed panic like a bird, mouth twisted with an unreadable expression. "you need to learn to defend yourself," she said finally. it wasn't a suggestion. you opened your mouth to argue, but she cut you off. “gym. tomorrow. six am. wear something you can actually move in."

୨୧ that's how you found yourself spending your mornings with sevika, learning to throw punches and break holds. she was a harsh teacher, but her hands were surprisingly gentle when correcting your stance. "again," she'd say, and you'd try to ignore how your skin tingled where she touched.

୨୧ soon enough, she started showing up wherever you were—whether it was a coffee shop, the library, or your favorite bench on campus. “just passing through,” she claimed. still, the way she always ended up sitting beside you said otherwise. she knew you were anxious, your body tensing whenever someone passed by. your airpods haven’t been in noise cancellation mode for three weeks.

୨୧ her mechanical arm fascinated you. one day, you asked about it, your curiosity outweighing your hesitation. she shrugged, but you caught the faintest twitch of a smile when you told her you thought it was beautiful.

୨୧ the project evolved, and so did whatever was growing between you. she started letting you help maintain her arm, teaching you the intricate mechanisms. your fingers would brush as you worked, and sometimes she'd let them linger. "careful," she'd murmur, but you were never sure if she meant with the machinery or with her.

୨୧ in these moments, she had a way of looking at you that made your stomach flip—like she was sizing you up, deciding if you’re worth her time. 

୨୧ you began to seek her out. the first time you loitered in the parking lot of her condo, fingers twitching nervously as you texted that you stopped by. she opened the door and lounged against the doorway, thick thighs bared by her boxers and skin gleaming from a recent workout. she laughed as you gasped and turned away.

୨୧ “what the fuck, sevika!” “princess, we have the same parts. they probably would feel real nice pushed togeth—“ “SEVIKA.”

୨୧ she pushed you out of your comfort zone in quiet, deliberate ways. you’re dragged to the campus bar, taught how to play pool (and lose), and laughing when you scratch on the break. “you’re hopeless, princess,” she teased, her smirk revealing her perfect gap teeth.

୨୧ her teasing was relentless, and she always called you “princess” and sometimes “baby girl” like it was on your birth certificate. you flushed every time, which only encouraged her.

୨୧ the first time you successfully pinned her during a self-defense session, she actually laughed—a rich, surprised sound that made your heart stutter. "not bad, baby girl,” she said, still beneath you, her organic hand warm on your hip. you became acutely aware of your position, of how close her face was to yours. neither of you moved for a long moment.

୨୧ if you’re becoming way too possessive of her, sue you. you’re the only undergrad who’s smuggled yourself under her wing and you’d like to keep it that way, goddamnit. you were never good at sharing anyway.

୨୧ it came to a head at an afterparty, your eye twitching as you watched some bitch (sorry!) trace her talons across sevika’s waist, which was framed admirably by a dark pair of jeans that were practically painted on.

୨୧ it only took a few seconds for you to stomp across the room and root a hand around her neck, drawing her into a searing kiss. you kissed her like you were trying to draw juice from her lips, moaning as she tugged you in closer.

୨୧ she kissed like she fought—precise, demanding, taking no prisoners. she backed you against the counter, knocking over a bottle of malibu, mechanical hand cool against your hips. “didn’t know you had it in you,” she laughed. “shut up, sevika. my god.” you grabbed her collar, reeled her back in.

୨୧ "you're my special girl,” she'd tell you later, tracing patterns on your skin with metal fingers. “the only one i give a fuck about. no competition.” her voice was bleeding with affection, and you curled into her side. she pressed kisses to your hair and leaned over to set an alarm for the both you—one for her, four for you.

୨୧ it worked, somehow—your refined, gilded edges against her sharp ones. you learned to throw a punch; she learned that you would lock her out if she didn’t allow you to spoil her relentlessly. “princess, i already have a bike.” “keep talking, honey, and i’ll purchase the whole dealership.” “now—“

୨୧ "you're trying to kill me slowly,” she grumbled, watching you charm your way through department gatherings. but she'd be there anyway, a solid presence at your back, her mechanical hand resting possessively at your waist. and when you'd lean into her touch, she'd hide her smile in your hair.

୨୧ if anyone found it strange to see the ice princess curled up in the lap of the most feared grad student on campus, well, one look from sevika's narrowed eyes was enough to silence any commentary.

୨୧ you were a fucking princess, both in real life and in her bed, but fuck you were hers. and sevika protected what was hers.

ambessa medarda : the professor. 

୨୧ you first saw her across a dimly lit hotel bar. you were three drinks in, mascara smeared from crying after the worst fight yet with your mother. "disappointing," she'd called you. "ungrateful." all because you refused to date the son of her country club friends.

୨୧ “mommy, please,” you’d sobbed. “i’m not ungrateful. i just don’t love him.” she’d left you with the dial tone.

୨୧ you rubbed a fist across your face like a child, attempting to gather yourself. your phonecall was denied again, and you winced at the tinny voice of your mother’s voicemail, setting it down and turning it off. god, this was the worst thing to happen to you in a long time. 

୨୧ with a sigh, you glanced up at the mirror behind the bar. she was looking right back. 

୨୧ the woman was striking—white locs swept into an elegant updo, wearing a low-cut red dress that hugged her body tightly. she moved like a lioness, back flexing as she hunkered down over the glossy wood. her golden eyes met yours, and your stomach began to spin. you knew this was the beginning of a dangerous game.

୨୧ after a minute she walked over, hands bearing water instead of another drink. "crying in bars rarely solves anything, little one," she said, her accent rich and heady. when you tried to argue, she simply raised an eyebrow, and you found yourself downing the glass in its entirety. 

୨୧ you kept eye contact as you swallowed, tongue peeking out to lap at the remnants along your lips.

୨୧ you don't remember who moved first. but you remember her hands—strong, calloused—gripping your thighs. remember her voice, rough with want, whispering against your neck. remember the way she claimed you, leaving mottled marks you'd find days later.

୨୧ you remember waking up alone in her hotel room, a glass of water and two aspirin on the nightstand. no note. just the lingering scent of her perfume—spiced and earthy—on the sheets.

୨୧ you tried to forget her. tried to forget how she'd called you “sweet girl” when you'd bitten her shoulder, how she'd laughed darkly and pinned your hands above your head, called you “easy” when you sobbed out pitiful demands for her to go harder and faster, do destroy you from the inside out.

୨୧ then came the first day of advanced military history.

୨୧ "good morning, class. i'm professor medarda."

୨୧ your blood ran cold. there she stood—your favorite fantasy, your most well-spent drunken night—looking devastatingly beautiful in a tailored suit. her eyes found yours immediately, and you saw the recognition flash in them, followed by something darker, more primal.

୨୧ you tried to drop the class. she denied your request personally.

୨୧ "running away?" she asked during mandatory office hours, pouring tea from an ornate set. "that's not the fierce girl i remember. you scratched me all up.”

୨୧ your cheeks burned. "professor—"

୨୧ "ambessa," she corrected, sliding the tea across her desk. “i think we’re past the formalities.”

୨୧ you couldn't avoid her. she called on you in class, her voice caressing your name. kept you after lectures to "discuss your work." you told yourself the tension would fade.

୨୧ it didn't.

୨୧ "i need a teaching assistant," she announced one evening, when you'd stayed too late reviewing your paper. "someone sharp. strategic. devoted.” her fingers brushed yours as she took your empty teacup. "interested?"

୨୧ you should have said no. you should have viewed her wolfish grin as a red flag, grabbed your shit, and hauled ass. instead, you heard yourself say, “of course.”

୨୧ being her TA meant late nights in her office, her perfume making you dizzy with memories. meant watching her command rooms full of students while remembering how she'd commanded your body. it meant pretending you couldn't feel her eyes on you, hungry and possessive.

୨୧ "we should establish some boundaries,” you said finally, after weeks of delicious torture.

୨୧ "should we?" she moved like a predator, backing you against her desk. "or should we discuss how you keep shivering when i get too close?"

୨୧ your breath caught. "this is inappropriate."

୨୧ “mmm, entirely," she agreed, one hand sliding into your hair, the other around your neck. “now, tell me to stop."

୨୧ you didn’t. 

୨୧ “little minx,” she murmured and you kissed her, surging forward and into her lap.

୨୧ it became your secret—stolen moments in her office after hours, weekends at her apartment where she'd cook elaborate dishes and tear your papers to shreds, nights where she'd make you forget your own name and squeal hers.

୨୧ “good girl” she'd murmur against your skin, switching to noxian when you drove her too far. she ordained you with names that meant something far more possessive and crude in her native tongue.

୨୧ the whole thing made you feel deliciously stained and you sought her out to purify you time and time again. you kept it hidden until graduation. until you had your degree in hand and nothing left to lose.

୨୧ the scandal was delicious—respected professor medarda and her former student, now openly living together. your mother was horrified. society whispered.

୨୧ "regrets?" ambessa asked one morning, watching you sip the spiced coffee you'd grown to love.

୨୧ you thought of that night at the bar, of all the paths that led you here. "never."  it turned out some mistakes are worth making twice.

© hcneymooners.

[mothekko]

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.

[kdyq]

Cooking with chaos

Ambessa x Fem!reader

context: Ambessa tries cooking for you.

The savory aroma of spices filled the air as you stepped into the kitchen only to freeze at the scene before you. Seeing Ambessa with her brows furrowed in concentration Flour dusted her hands and streaked her cheek while several pots bubbled away on the stove had you shocked.

“Ambessa?” you asked cautiously trying not to laugh. “What is umm happening here?”

She glanced over her shoulder clearly startled by your sudden appearance. “You weren’t supposed to see this yet.”

“See what? The aftermath of a kitchen war?” you teased stepping closer to survey the damage. Your eyes scanned over the countertop which was a mess of chopped vegetables scattered spices and what looked like an abandoned recipe book with a splash of sauce on its cover.

“I’m cooking dinner” she said her tone defensive but her expression betraying a hint of embarrassment.

“You? Cooking?” The disbelief in your voice was impossible to hide.

She turned back to the stove giving one of the pots a strong stir. “I’ve fought in countless battles. How hard could cooking be?”

You couldn’t help but laugh leaning against the counter as you watched her. “And how’s that working out for you?”

“It’s… under control” she replied though the growing plume of smoke from the oven suggested otherwise.

“Ambessa” you said crossing the kitchen and opening the oven door to reveal a charred tray of what was once bread. “This doesn’t look like control my love.”

She groaned a taking her hand and scratching her head leaving a flour mark. “I just wanted to do something for you” she admitted her voice softening. “You’re always the one making things special and I thought I could return the favor.”

Your teasing smile melted into something more affectionate. “That’s really sweet love. But maybe cooking isn’t exactly your specialty .”

She sighed stepping back from the stove and crossing her arms. “Apparently not.”

“Well” you said grabbing a spoon to taste one of the bubbling pots. You grimaced slightly at the overwhelming saltiness but quickly covered it with a smile. “It’s… edible. Kind of.”

Ambessa let out a rare laugh her tension easing as she leaned against the counter. “You’re too kind.”

“Tell you what” you offered grabbing an apron and tying it around your waist. “Why don’t we salvage what we can together? I’ll teach you a few tricks and maybe next time your dinner won’t look like a food fight.”

She raised an eyebrow her lips curving into a smirk. “You think you can teach me? Bold of you.”

“Someone has to” you shot back nudging her playfully as you moved to take over the stove.

For the next hour the two of you worked side by side. You guided her through the basics showing her how to balance flavors and avoid setting the oven ablaze. Despite her grumbles Ambessa followed your instructions with surprising patience.

By the time dinner was ready the kitchen looked slightly less like a food fight and the table was set with plates of food that were delicious.

As you sat down to eat Ambessa raised her glass her expression soft and sincere. “To my greatest teacher” she said a rare twinkle of humor in her eyes.

“To my bravest student” you replied with a grin clinking your glass against hers.

The meal tasted even better knowing how much effortand lovehad gone into it.

“THE END”

[ruinedsapphic]

IM ALMOST DONE WITH MY SEVIKA X AMBESSA FIC BUT YALL please..hear me out before i kms… I KNOW DAMN WELL Ambessa stared at Sevika and she was like “oh jeez I needs peg that girl so bad..” GUYS. SHE LOTERALLY WANTS HER. Sevika so real too I would’ve looked away if a hot tall 6’9 butch lesbian was staring down at me…ruin me I fear….haha..