Content/Warnings: x reader, no pronouns used but reader is described as wearing a dress and jewelry in ambessa's, some suggestive content for ellie's and kassandra's, mentions of smoking weed for ellie's)
A/N: this will probably flop but as i was driving home with my passenger princess butch beside me, i started thinking about all of my fave characters and what their driving preferences would be... a very important subject to ponder obviously. i'm working super hard to get part two of dancer!vi x dancer!reader and sweet as honey out, but i needed a little break so this brain dump ensued and i thought i'd share with the class. please comment your contributions to my theories, or you fail the socratic seminar! (kidding we don't do those i love you my fellow socially anxious babies)
anyway, here we go, starting off with my arcane sexies:
──˚₊𝐒𝐞𝐯𝐢𝐤𝐚
୨ৎ okay so this may be controversial... but 𝐲𝐞𝐬, i think she is a passenger princess- BUT, only when she's with you. you're the only person she trusts with her life, so you're the only person she lets drive her, but for the longest time, you had no idea she preferred being in the passenger seat. she's a very chivalrous partner, so you got used to her volunteering to drive and assumed it was because she liked being the one driving; until, one day, she slipped up and let out a sigh when you mentioned an errand the two of you needed to run. it had already been a long day at work, friday evening traffic had been terrible on the way home, and frankly, she didn't want to be behind the wheel at all before her commute to work on monday. you ask her what the fuss is about, and she (very bashfully) admits that she actually hates driving. the poor baby is terrified you'll think she's a bad butch, but you assure her that you have no problem at all being her chauffer. she does enough for everyone around her as it is <3 (she still DD's tho that's a non-negotiable)
──˚₊𝐕𝐢𝐨𝐥𝐞𝐭
୨ৎ 𝐲𝐞𝐬, she is a passenger princess. no, this was not of her own volition, nor did she get a say. not after she rolled her window down at a red light to tell the jackass who cut her off alllll about himself. her first few trips in the passenger seat are spent with crossed arms and a pout (and when she was particularly annoyed, she'd do that thing where she turned her entire body away from you and faced the window so you knew just how begrudgingly she'd taken the spot), but nowadays, she's fully embraced her role as passenger princess. she likes being on aux, or reaching over to play with your hair- and oh, she takes the best naps in the car. just sleepily reaches over for your arm, wraps both of her own around it like you're a teddy bear (for all intents and purposes, you are vi's teddy bear) and conks the fuck out. it's safe to say she's come to appreciate what the passenger seat has to offer, and every once in a while, you'll even let her flip off the shitty driver that nearly hit you while they were merging because that's love
──˚₊𝐀𝐦𝐛𝐞𝐬𝐬𝐚 𝐌𝐞𝐝𝐚𝐫𝐝𝐚
୨ৎ 𝐲𝐞𝐬, ambessa is a passenger princess, but she won't let you touch the wheel either. instead, she hires a chauffeur, and the two of you sit in the back of the BMW together. she always has a possessive hand on your thigh and a proud grin on her face, and when you ask her what she's smiling at, she'll just say you look pretty in that dress you picked out on your trip to milan; that those diamonds look so much better around your neck than they did on the display in new york; that luxury suits you well. her secret, though, is that driving makes her a nervous wreck. she'd hired a chauffeur long before she met you, because she truly cannot stand driving. it's completely overwhelming, but again, ambessa would never admit this; would never admit a weakness. not that it concerns you, anyway. the only thing you should be concerning yourself with is sitting in the back of the BMW and looking pretty like you always do.
──˚₊𝐆𝐫𝐚𝐲𝐬𝐨𝐧
୨ৎ grayson lovesss driving you around, so its safe to say that 𝐧𝐨, she would rather you take on the role of passenger princess in your duo. she loves the way the sun peeks in through the window and catches your eyes during golden hour joyrides, the way that the cabin of her car smells like your perfume as you're on your way to dinner in the city, the way you giggle as you stick your hands out of the sunroof during late-night drives. she loves the mundane, too; opening and closing your door for you every single time you enter or exit the car, dropping you off and picking you up from work, rolling up to a drive-through and resting her hand on the small of your back with a warm smile as you lean over and order your favorite milkshake. you are grayson's princess, through and through, spoiled rotten. essentially, whenever there's a chance for her to keep you from lifting a finger, she's taking it.
now for my TLOU II ladies...
──˚₊𝐄𝐥𝐥𝐢𝐞 𝐖𝐢𝐥𝐥𝐢𝐚𝐦𝐬
୨ৎ hell 𝐧𝐨, she all but gets off on you being in the passenger seat of her truck! and i could leave it at that! but of course i'll elaborate. on a real note, ellie does prefer to drive because she prefers to be one who's focused and in control on the road. if you insist, she'll let you drive, but it has to be in your car. no one drives ellie's truck but ellie. and yes, you tease her about it all of the time, but she lets you, because there's nothing like picking you up from work and smoking you out, watching with an amused smile as you get all loose and giggly in the passenger seat. and if you do the thing where you look up at her through heavy eyes, batting your lashes and asking for another hit in that voice you know makes her melt, she'll just hand the the joint over with a smirk pulling at her lips, knowing damn well her passenger princess is about to find herself laid out in the backseat.
──˚₊𝐀𝐛𝐛𝐲 𝐀𝐧𝐝𝐞𝐫𝐬𝐨𝐧
୨ৎ so here's the thing: abby is suchhhh a backseat driver. it's one of the only things you fight about, and when you do, it gets ugly, because you know abby and that damn ego. she thinks she's right about everything. but it isn't one of these fights that lands her in the driver's seat for good; instead, it's the third missed turn in a row on a road trip back to your hometown. she asks you to pull into a gas station, and you assume it's so that she can figure out where the fuck you guys are and reroute the GPS, but then she reaches over to place her hand on your cheek and asks you- in that soft voice she only uses when she's speaking to you- to let her take over. and you realize, she was never trying to give you a hard time for your terrible sense of direction. she just wants to take care of her baby. so, you and abby decide that, 𝐧𝐨, she is not a passenger princess. plus, you've gotta, admit; she looks damn good with one hand on the wheel and the other on your thigh.
and last, but certainly not least, my favorite womanizer on the list:
──˚₊𝐊𝐚𝐬𝐬𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐫𝐚 (𝐀𝐂: 𝐎𝐝𝐲𝐬𝐬𝐞𝐲)
୨ৎ gonna try not to make this super thirsty or super long but gods help me she makes it hard. anyway. not sure why, but i headcanon modern!kass as being kind of a car girl. not in an obnoxious douchey way, though. she just likes nice cars. she's got a fancy sports car, manual like she's used to driving back home in greece, still spotless inside and out despite her having had it for years. so, needless to say: 𝐧𝐨, kassandra is not a passenger princess. not with a car that sexy. not when it drives that nice. sexy sports car aside, kass is a gentlewoman, so she prefers to drive you around regardless. the one time you convinced her to let you take the wheel was toward the beginning of your relationship; she'd just gotten back from her annual trip to kefalonia, and you offered to drive her home from the airport, expecting that she'd curl up in the passenger seat and get some much-needed rest. instead- despite the near 24 hours of traveling she'd just endured- she couldn't keep her damn heart-eyes off of you. eventually, she couldn't keep her hands off of you, so she booked a room in a nice hotel for the night. just to break up the trip home. no other reason. (okay that's a lie but can u blame her u hadn't seen each other in a month!) you don't get to drive her back home from the airport again, though, because it only took that one month away from you for her to decide she wouldn't be going back to greece without you.
thank you all for being passenger princesses in the ride that was my 2 am thoughts.
⌖ SUMMARY: Reader is a reclusive gym manager who falls hard for Sevika, an ambitious bodybuilder who's heading to Las Vegas to pursue her dream. Their love soon leads to violence as they get pulled deep into the web of Readers criminal family.
⌖ DISCLAIMER: violence | smut I gore I guns I vomiting | of domestic abuse (not implicated towards reader or Sevika) | dark themes | nudity I drug use I grisly | body dysphoria | This is heavily taken by the scenes of the movie, so spoilers ahead | smoking
Sevika and Reader are in their 20s.
men + mdni
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Part.One…coming soon…
Tag list?
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DO NOT REPOST ANY OF MY WORKS ON ANY OTHER PLATFORMS. This is my one and only account.
Bored and lonely you discover the world of prison pen pals and take on a recently convicted drug lord as yours.
AO3
w.c- 3,783
A/N- I'm not sure where I was going with this tbh. Just a fun little exercise I think. Also I wasn't going to proofread but I'm glad I did because there were so many grammatical errors 💀
Tags/Warnings- Inmate!Valeria, Friendship, Implied Developing Feelings, Open Ending, Prison, Post-Modern Warfare II
Beep.
You slide a can of soup across the scanner. It's dented at the edge and has an ugly yellow 'Half Off!' sticker falling off of the side.
Beep.
You work efficiently. Zoned out and scanning on autopilot, almost lulled into a trance by the robotic beeping of the other scanners around you. It's a scorching summer day and the AC is on full blast. Chilling you through your thin work uniform and sending your skin puckering with goosebumps.
Beep.
You scan the last item, a bag of whole grain bread and plaster a half-dead customer-service smile on your face.
"Thank you for shopping with us today, do you have a points account with us?" You ask. The man's face twitches with annoyance. He was probably bothered about signing up while he was shopping and you long to tell him that you hate it too, but you'll get into trouble if you don't ask.
"No." He replies, moving to start bagging up his groceries.
"Would you like to sign up for one? You can get forty-"
"I'm good, thanks." He interrupts you. The man bags his items and hurries off, leaving your till empty.
You sigh and lean against the counter. Resting your head on your hand. You feel exhausted. And not from the kind that can be fixed with a full, uninterrupted eight hours of sleep. (Not that you're getting that either.) It's the kind that seeps into your very bones and infects your blood like a disease. You can't believe you have at least fifty more years of this before you can retire. Muffled laughter to your right draws your attention and you glance over. Seeing two of your coworkers, Adrienna and Catalina, deep in conversation.
"I just can't believe he was actually a woman this entire time!" Adrianna says. Catalina nods eagerly.
"No, I know, I was shocked. Obviously, women can be evil and powerful or whatever, I just never thought about it much." Catalina replies.
"Are you guys talking about El Sin Nombre?" You ask, wanting to join in. "Did you know she was a part of the special forces for a while?" You look at the two women expectantly, but it seems they're too engrossed in each other to have heard you. Embarrassed, you awkwardly scratch your arm and glance around, wondering if anyone saw you getting ignored.
Las Almas was being terrorized by a faceless individual going by El Sin Nombre. Essentially the boogeyman. Nobody knew what he looked like or who he was, but everyone knew of his cutthroat cruelty. He popped up overnight like a pimple right after the death of the previous reigning drug lord, La Araña and his son. El Sin Nombre was bigger and badder. Had more men, more fire power, more control over the government. You still remember the events that led to her getting caught.
Foreign military had rolled in like they owned the place. Making everyone uncomfortable, almost as much as violent armed men that used to patrol the streets did. In a matter of days chaos erupted and the little quiet town of Las Almas was sent into a state of emergency. Especially when one of the militia groups went rogue and started raiding homes and illegally interrogating and accusing citizens of being involved in the cartel. You remember how scared you felt when you locked yourself down in your little apartment. Having to listen to the angry shouting outside and gunfire.
All of that resulted in the infamous El Sin Nombre being apprehended and arrested. Her identity being revealed to the public days later as Valeria Garza, a former Mexican Special Forces officer. Previously dishonorably discharged for killing hostages in some mission years and years ago. You had seen her picture on the news. Of her being led into the maximum security prison on the outskirts of the city. Privately, you thought her to be a good looking woman. Short dark hair, tan skin, and a face matured by age. Severe dark brown eyes narrowed defiantly. She exuded confidence and power, even in her mugshot.
But that's the last time anything excited has happened in Las Almas. You sigh and flick a dust ball off your register. That, and the recent break up you went through. Though even that was hardly interesting. Just two people who decided they were no longer compatible anymore. But you still miss them. Life is so lonely, even when you're surrounded by other people.
Six hours feels more like six days. But finally, you get to clock out and go home. Enjoying a warm, safe walk back to your apartment. Once inside however, you're less eager. It's quiet and empty inside your home. The only thing waiting for you being a sink full of dishes and a frozen TV dinner in the freezer. You change into shorts and a t-shirt and chuck your uniform into a corner. You pause by the sink and ultimately decide that it can sit for a few more hours. You treat yourself to computer time instead.
Having no social life, you spend most of your time scouring the internet for entertainment and communities you could squeeze yourself into. But even people on the internet fall into exclusive cliques. Your posts go ignored and you're too shy to even try using discord. So you content yourself with lurking instead. Your guilty pleasure is Reddit. You like reading other people's stories and discussions. You can pretend you're the jury passing on judgement though you rarely ever engage past upvoting or downvoting.
While you're scrolling through various different posts, one catches your eye and you click on it to read more. It's someone talking about their prisoner pen pal. Sharing some funny excerpt from one of their letters. The seed of an idea starts forming in your mind. You do some cautious research and find that there's a whole community surrounding the art of writing incarcerated people. Curiously, you do some deeper digging. Finding official websites with inmate's profiles. It's encouraged for them to stay in contact with the outside world. Something to do with helping with rehabilitation or something.
You look up all the female prisoners located in Las Alms. Browsing through an official government website. A familiar picture stops you from your bored scrolling. Dark hair and dark eyes glower at you through your computer screen. Along with a list of her name and public info. Valeria Garza, inmate 9989, and a long, long laundry list of crimes. She's currently being held in a penitentiary. Excitement gathers in your gut. You could send her a letter. Then you frown. Can you send a letter to someone in maximum security prison? You quickly google it and feel relieved to find that you can.
You push your laptop to the side and grab a pen and paper. Giddily writing out an introduction for yourself and asking her about herself. You re-write the letter a few times, the corner of your living room slowly growing with crumpled paper balls. At last, an hour and a half later, you perfect your first letter. Carefully reading it over. Though you're not even that hopeful she'll read it, let alone respond to you, you still grimace at the thought of it reading as awkward. You envelope it, write down the details on the face of it and then set out to hand it over to the post office.
* * *
Weeks pass by without a response, and even though you knew the likelihood of receiving one was low, you still find yourself feeling disappointed. It's probably for the best anyway. You shouldn't be starting up a communication with an infamous drug lord anyhow. You go about your life with ebbing excitement. Carrying out your grocery store shifts with all the enthusiasm of a rock. Life continues as usual. Customers continue to be entitled and borderline incompetent, your coworkers continue to ignore your exitance when they aren't asking you to cover their shifts, and you remain friendless both online and in real life.
But when you check your mailbox and sift through the bills, a certain envelope catches your eye. It's not the formal the kind that comes with bills. It's a letter, you realize with growing excitement. And it came from the Las Almas Penitentiary.
You hurry inside and slam the door behind you, throwing off your shoes with glee. You plop yourself down on your sofa and tear open the envelope, sliding out the letter inside. The scrawling handwriting is small and neat, but hard to read but it'll take a little more than illegibility to deter you.
'Hello. I was surprised to receive mail from a name I didn't recognize. I had assumed you were a journalist of some kind, but it was refreshing to learn that you are not. It's very sad that you're so desperate for human connection that you're resorting to writing letters to prisoners. I'll entertain you for now. There's not much else to do in here.
The food here is terrible, thank you for asking. I miss warm, home cooked meals. I miss fast food too. No, it's not scary in here. It would be for someone like you I expect. My reputation serves as a Sheild, though there are a few ballsy women who want the recognition that would come with killing me. They'll never be successful, of course. They do make us do work. I'm on janitorial duty. I have the very elating task of scrubbing toilets. With how filthy this place gets you'd think none of these women were ever potty trained. Most of them are just sick freaks who get off on making messes, I'm sure.
It's hard receiving news in here. Even with the contacts I do have. Anything interesting I'm missing out on in the outside world?'
The letter is fairly short, and a little cutting. Her snide comment about you being desperate, in particular. But you're too excited over actually getting a response. It's like being noticed by a celebrity. You re-read it, then grab a pen and paper and start working on your response. At first, you tell her how happy you are to have received a response, but then you realize that'll just earn you more mockery and snide remarks. So you scrap it and start over, trying to seem calmer and more collected. You express your sympathy for her food situation, and for her work situation. There's not much to tell her about the world. Because it hasn't really changed since she was arrested. You tell her as much, wondering if she'll feel relieved or disappointed by that fact.
You're in much brighter spirits after mailing off your letter. So much so that sometimes when you smile at customers and tell them to have a nice day, you actually mean it. Even staying late to cover Catalina's shift doesn't dampen your mood. You do inventory and clean and then walk home. Valeria's letter comes in two weeks later. In the same generic envelope, they give to all the prisoners. You curl up on the sofa and tear it open, a cup of warm tea beside you.
'Your sympathies are appreciated. It's a little disconcerting to hear that nothing has changed. It feels like all the work I did was pointless and I left no impact at all. I'm hoping that my presence is at least still felt on the streets of Las Almas. It would be terribly embarrassing for my efforts to have resulted in nothing changing. And so soon, too. I worked too hard to make Las Almas stronger.
Never mind that though. Aside from your desire to connect with anyone regardless of their quality as a person, I want to know why you chose me. You clearly know who I am and what I did. Are you a hybristophile? The more dangerous the better? You'll be sorely disappointed to find that I'm not receptive to that kind of thing. I have no intentions on entering a relationship. Especially not one borne from some odd fetish.
And to answer your question, yes people have sex in the showers. There's no such thing as shame in here. The water is also always cold. And shoes are a must or else you'll get a fungal infection in your feet. Showering is another thing I miss terribly. I haven't felt clean since I got here. You mentioned that you work at SunTown. How's that treating you? Do you plan on working there forever or do you have better plans for your life?'
You're offended that she thinks you're talking to her because you're weird. And you're hurt that she's brought up your job and the course of your life. As a matter of fact, you don't have any higher plans for your life. You've considered college many, many times but you can't think of anything you'd like enough to invest that time and money into. That being said, you don't want to work at SunTown Grocer for the rest of your life. But you suppose you shouldn't be shocked by her rudeness. Criminals aren't renowned for their manners.
You write her a response. Choosing to be a little abrasive yourself and subtly mocking her own predicament. You tell her you're a free bird going where the wind blows you. Code word for 'I have no direction in my life.' You also deny the hybristophile accusation. And call her presumptuous for assuming you were seeking a romantic relationship from her. You're bored and lonely, and conversing with a criminal kills two birds with one stone. You also have no intentions of trying to court her.
* * *
You and Valeria exchange letters back and forth over the course of four months. Slowly building an unexpected bond. Her snide comments become less hostile and more teasing, and in turn, you become more confident with your replies. You even open up to her about your life. Things deeper than just you not liking your job. You tell her about your ex, about your coworkers that you want to befriend but can't seem to no matter how hard you try. You also tell her how you're struggling with bills. Everything seems to be raising but your salary.
A week after you send your letter, a black duffel bag filled with five grand mysteriously shows up at your door. You almost choke at the sight of so much money. You know it has something to do with Valeria. and the thought makes you nervous. Her sending you money wasn't your intention when you told her about your financial struggles. You just wanted to vent. She never mentioned if she still had contact with her remaining free cartel cronies, but you suspect she does. This all but confirms it for you. Nothing else would explain the sudden appearance of money right after you complained about. What worries you is it potentially being dirty money. But shamefully, you don't turn it away. Valeria doesn't mention it in her reply letter, and you don't either.
What she does mention, is her desire to see who she's talking to. Something that makes you nervous. You're not sure if you want a drug lord knowing what you look like. But you started it by writing to her in the first place. And she has your address anyway. It really can't get worse than that. What's really making you nervous though, is what she'll think when she sees you. It would be so humiliating if she thought you were ugly and decided to stop talking to you. But you take a picture of yourself anyway. Dressing up casually but also nicely and using the best lighting and angles you can. You land on a nice picture of you by your living room window and print it out. Stuffing it into the envelope alongside your letter. Before you can talk yourself out of it, you walk down to the post office and hand it over.
The wait for her reply feels much longer than usual. There's a heavy fear inside of you that she won't respond at all. Getting ghosted by an inmate would probably be your last straw. But that doesn't happen. Her letter comes in two weeks later like always and you nervously read it.
'You look so much more normal than I was expecting. I'm actually kind of disappointed. I thought you'd be hideous from the way you describe yourself and how other people seem to treat you.
Anyway, I've added your name to the visitors registry. As nice as it is looking forward to your biweekly letters, I'd like to speak to you face to face sometime. It would be nice not having to wait weeks for a reply to a simple question. It would be nice to receive a casual visit for once. Come Thursday at six, we can have a real conversation then.'
Her assessment of your looks should offend you. But somehow being called 'normal looking' by Valeria makes it sound like a compliment. You re-read the last part of her letter multiple times. Wondering if you're seeing things right. She wants to meet you. Well, she's decided that you will meet by the sounds of it. You could just not go, but you know you'll be there after work.
Thursday comes fast and your shift goes by even faster. You're nervous and giddy to meet your pen pal in person. It occurs to you while you're stressing over your outfit that your feelings may have developed past curious. You don't want to dwell on that though. Choosing to ignore the idea completely. There's no future to be had with a convict who's going to spend the rest of her life behind bars.
The drive to the prison isn't too long. You're stopped at the gate and made to show your I.D. The man takes his sweet time to check if you're on the visitors list before finally letting you through. You find a place to park and walk inside, entering the lobby. There are a few people waiting in chairs. Some looking very down. You walk past them to the man at the front desk. He types away at the computer without acknowledging you. You stand there few a few awkward minutes, waiting for him to notice you but when he doesn't you clear your throat.
"Um, hi," You start. He looks at you with a bored expression. "I'm here to visit someone."
"Name?" He says. His voice is as inspired as he looks.
"Mine?" You ask uncertainly.
"Yes. And the prisoner you're here to see." He sighs.
"Oh." You tell him your name. "And I'm here to see Valeria Garza?"
At her name, the man perks up, one thick brow raising.
"... Okay. Go right through there. You'll be searched and then let through to the visitor's area." He tells you, pointing to a doorway to the right. You walk over and let an officer pat you down. you're nervous, like you accidently shoved all kinds of illegal things in your pockets on accident. But you're deemed safe and let through.
The room looks like you'd expect it to. One long table stretching from one side of the room to the other. with glass separating the visitors from the prisoners. There are three other people visiting, talking through a phone connected to the table. At the very end, clad in a beige jumpsuit and staring right at you is Valeria. Not wanting her to see how nervous you are, you walk towards her and take a seat in front of her. She looks different in person. Her hair is longer, and she looks tired. But there's still an aura of defiance surrounding her. Her expression is cool and detached. She picks up her phone and you do the same.
"Hi." You say.
"Hello." She replies. She doesn't say more, just blinks at you calmly. You shift in your seat. Is that it? All that anxiety and excitement just for some polite greetings?
"You're better looking in person." She speaks. Your face warms at the compliment. Yeah, you're definitely not harboring just friendly feelings for her.
"Thank you. You look... well." You say.
Valeria scoffs.
"As well as anyone in prison can look, I suppose. I'm certainly overdo for a haircut. I haven't had my hair touching my shoulders in years." She says.
"Oh. Well... it looks nice." You reply, smiling lightly.
Valeria's lips twitch upwards. "I guess it does. How have you been? Still trying to befriend those girls?" She sniffs disdainfully.
"No. They don't want anything to do with me and I'm fine with that." You say. Though you're still kind of sad about it. It's probably not personal but it's hard not to take it that way.
"Good." Valeria shrugs. "They're just a waste of time. Better to surround yourself with good, intelligent friends then to befriend just anyone because they're convenient."
"Intelligent huh?" You say dryly. It sounds like Valeria's referring to herself. She seems almost pleased to be your only real friend.
Valeria leans back in her chair.
"And how have you been financially?" She looks at you closely.
You stare back. "I've been good. Got some help from someone." You reply vaguely. Aware of the guards behind you.
"Good." Valeria nods assuredly. She leans closer and when she speaks again, her voice is lowered conspiratorially. "I'll be getting out soon. I wanted to tell you in person." Your eyes widen.
"They're releasing you already?" You ask quietly. You thought she got life. She smiles knowingly.
"Something like that." She says. "I thought you'd want to know. Seeing as we're such good friends and all." She says it like it's a secret that only the two of you share.
You smile back at her but something twinges in your gut. She makes it sound so sinister. You have a sneaking suspicion that something big is about to happen.
"Oh. Yeah, that's great to hear." You finally respond. "We can actually hang out."
"Mhm." Valeria nods, looking pleased. "It's good to have friends you can count on. Someone unassuming who will have your back."
You shift, feeling unsure now. "Of course. That's what friends do for each other."
"Good. I'm glad you agree." She says calmly. "I'll be seeing you real soon, and there won't be a sheet of plexiglass between us then."
Your time runs out and you stand. Looking at her through the glass. Something in her words tells you that's she's up to no good. And now you're somehow involved whether you want to or not. You just hope your feelings don't cloud your mind from doing the right thing.
playlist
pairing: kassandra the eagle bearer x fem!reader
word count: 5.2k
description: kassandra was the eagle bearer. a misthios feared by all, nearly by the gods themselves. an unstoppable force, a deadly creature on the battlefield, and considered supernatural by many.
and yet, you had her wrapped around your finger.
tags: smut (18+), definite historical innacuracy, inaccurate ancient greek terms of endearment, period typical misogyny (not from kassandra), takes place in the midst of the peloponnesian war, risk of being caught, kassandra is a munch, reader is a bit of a pillow princess.
a/n: i know most of ya'll know my blog for house of the dragon (aka my one jacaerys fic), but kassandra was my first love so she needs appreciation. this is my first time writing for wlw pairing so... please bear with me :)))).
Summertime in Athens was a lazy thing, hazy with a simmering heat and the smell of ripened fruit.
It seemed as if Apollo himself kissed your skin as you basked within the late afternoon glow. His rays brushed over your cheeks, illuminating you in gold. Your eyes were shut, your pliant body laid out against a cushioned kline. You were a beauty not even sculptors could mold out of marble. Everything about you spoke of your careless luxury; silk chiton ruffled from your relaxation, gold earrings glinting in your ears, and the scent of myrrh perfume that filled the room.
A pitcher of wine sits with a full cup on a nearby table. You’d already downed your first cup, you could feel the slight buzz of it in your veins; a gift from Dionysus. Everything felt lazy and quiet. The afternoons often stretched on endlessly, with little entertainment.
You had no other responsibilities to fill your day than to bask like a napping cat.
The bustle of your home city can be faintly heard from the balcony connecting to your rooms. The bartering of merchants in the marketplace, the boisterous laughter of a group of men who had overindulged, the din of many people moving along streets. Despite the temperature, the city still breathes.
Athens seemed to overflow with life, in spite of the Spartan siege resting just outside her walls.
Your father made sure you’d stayed far from that danger, shut safely inside your home. Where a woman should be, he tells you. He feels the brunt of this war and he does everything in his power to keep you from it. Your relationship with him was an odd one, for you were no son. However, since your mother’s life had faded during her labors, a daughter is what he must settle for. But no matter how chilled the bond between you grows, your wellbeing is paramount.
A dead girl cannot be married off for dowry.
He keeps you sheltered away behind the carefully constructed walls of wealth.
Well, until you’d met Kassandra.
The misthios had appeared one day at your villa’s doorstep, imposing and lithe as a lioness. She’d had business with your father, a contract that needed his attention. Standing before your father, who himself was stout and muscular, she outshone him like the sun does the moon. She’d seemed to be crafted specially by the gods themselves. For no other hands could’ve sculpted those lips and shoulders with such care.
You’d watched her approach, sneakily observing from above upon a terrace.
Kassandra was unlike any other woman you’d seen before. Her demeanor was relaxed and held something akin to arrogance. Armed to the teeth, toned, and protected by gold and leather… she knew nothing would dare to touch her. The mercenary could almost be considered a demigod, blessed with Zeus’ eagle to circle above her head. She was everything opposite of what you’ve been instructed to be.
She donned armor that you’d previously only thought belonged to men. It glinted as the sun struck it, illuminating her as if she was Athena coming to walk amongst mortals. The metal she wore for protection also served to accentuate her musculature, fit and lean. You’d never seen such athleticism on one woman, only ever exposed to the soft curves of yourself and your maids.
She was striking in every sense of the word, well-loved by Aphrodite herself. She had the sharp eyes of a hawk, umber and gleaming when the light hit them just right. They did not miss you, either.
Amidst a hushed conversation with your father, her gaze had found yours. It was fleeting, merely a glance. But she’d known you were there, even from your hiding spot. Even from your distance, you could see the pull of a smirk on her lips.
And there was a strange stirring in your stomach... It was something you’d only felt a few times before.
It was never in the presence of any of your father’s soldiers. The men often smelled of sweat and wine, the sight of them left a sour taste in your mouth. But around your maids, you’d noticed that recently your eyes have started to linger. Whether it be on the curve of their sternums, the beauty of their eyes, and the plushness of their lips. You’d often wonder what they might feel like upon your own. It was a secret you kept close and never dared to act upon.
But Kassandra was bringing a tidal wave of attraction upon you, even from first glance. She looked strong like a man but she was still… most definitely a woman. She was beautiful.
You should’ve known from that moment that you were doomed.
She was around often, having an objective that required constant movement around Athens. It often involved your father, the influential general that he was. You were not able to speak with her often, your father feared she might instill a sense of womanly rebellion in you. Though, you stole a few moments of furtive eye contact and quiet, imploring words.
It was upon her fifth visit that her head became buried between your thighs for the first time.
The mercenary had the unfortunate (fortunate) chance of visiting when your father had not been home. The man had been called away on some urgent business you hadn’t cared to pay attention to. What use would it be? You wouldn’t be allowed to help anyhow.
You’d welcomed her in, under the facade of the demanding rule of hospitality.
Her fingers brush against yours when you hand her a cup of sweet wine. A few words are exchanged; she asks after your father, you ask about her eagle, she compliments the wine.
One thing leads to another and your back is against a wall covered in mosaic tiles, breathy moans leaving your mouth. She has one of your thighs over her large shoulder, your silk chiton rucked up to your hips. She made a temple of your body, an altar in between your legs, and a sacrifice with her tongue.
It was your first time lying with a woman, lying with anyone. She made you feel like you were in Elysium.
She visited more often after that, no longer just to see your father.
You often awaited her at night, when she would climb up through your balcony to find your embrace. The woman could scale just about anything, it seemed.
She was something holy; borne from the gods, no doubt. You believed that even more when she played your body like a finely tuned lyre.
Every visit has you feeling like Penelope, welcoming Odysseus back to Ithaca.
Though, lately, you’ve gotten the feeling that she will soon be moving on to other places.
There was a far away look in her eyes when she gazed at you now, hidden beneath amorous hues. Her touches began to stray with a softness that had not been there before. She’s begun to linger after your satiation, lips reverently brushing over your temple when she has to depart. It made you uneasy… the affection was welcome, but it was tinged with a bittersweet omen. You did not wish for her to go.
This arrangement was not one borne of longstanding love and commitment; it was all-consuming, passionate, and free of false promises. However… you cannot deny the blossoms of affection that have been planted from all your shared intimacies with the mercenary. She would sometimes bring you fresh figs she picked along her travels, and then you would insist on sharing. Or there were times when she could not stay for long… so she’d tuck an anemone she’d saved behind your ear with a press of plush lips to the corner of your mouth.
Kassandra rarely allowed herself to have such tenderness. There were those out there who would do anything to tear away anything she cared about. It was all too easy to fall into the role of careless mercenary, only in it for the drachmae. Perhaps, if it was just her and Ikaros against the world, things would be easier.
But, there was you… saccharine and delicate, with a heart purer that King Midas’ gold. You felt like the closest thing to home she’s had in a long time.
Everyone had their vices.
There were times that she did not crave you for lust at all. Sometimes she would crawl into bed beside you with a sigh… wounded or bruised. The look in her eyes, then, tugged at your heart. They were so tired… almost sad. You could see, she needed the comfort of your sweet words and to fall asleep in a safe place. The way you rubbed the muscles of her back, pressed chaste kisses to her bruised cheekbones, and undid her braid made Kassandra believe that maybe… she could afford to have this one shred of kindness.
It was a secret, just for the two of you. Something forbidden by the laws of men, two women partaking in such carnality, but what laws had Kassandra ever abided by?
Muted footsteps catch your wandering attention, sandals across smooth stone, bringing you back from your thoughts.
You're pleased to see the familiar outline of your lover in the doorway.
Kassandra was imposing even in the simplest of times. The sun catches half of her face, causing one eye to look molten, the other dark umber in the shadows.
She utters your name in a low familiar greeting, her tongue curling over the syllables. The left corner of her lips tug up in a slow smile.
You cannot help but rake your eyes over the way her body looked in her usual armor. Her chestplate accentuated the strong slope of her arms. You admired her well-built shoulders and biceps, one marred by the scars left by an animal she’d conquered in her past. You often liked to brush your lips over it to make her shudder. Her leather pteruges rustled with each movement; accentuating the long lines of her legs. Every detail of her did not escape your notice; a vein along one of her hands, the cut of her calves, the small strands of hair that always escaped her braid.
You also do not miss how her heated eyes take you in. Like you were a nymph or nereid, basking in the sun.
To her, you were otherworldly.
The shoulder of your silk wrappings had slid down one of your shoulders, revealing a tantalizing slip of skin. The sun illuminated you like a beacon. You lounged like a big cat, easy and wanton. As you gazed at her through lazy, half-lidded eyes; she felt a familiar heat simmering between you both.
The two of you were like a conflagration, coming together to burn.
“Kassandra.” You drawl in greeting, eyes tracking her as she steps into the room.
“I thought I might find you here.” The sellsword muses, sharp eyes flicking around your rooms. She takes in the open balcony, the goblet of wine by your side, before her gaze traces you again.
“Did you?” You cannot hide the quiet tease of your voice, something salacious hidden beneath your lilting words. She hums in agreement. You shift where you lie, a strategic move that lets your dressings slip even further down your chest, revealing almost too much of your sternum. You let one of your legs fall to the side of the kline, creating an inviting cradle between your thighs.
Kassandra notices. You can see the way she tracks the movement with a heated gaze. When she meets your eyes again, she raises an amused brow.
“You’re done speaking with my father, then?” You inquire. There is a hope in your tone you cannot hide, and haven’t been able to for a while now. You cannot deny you greatly look forward to Kassandra’s visits… and you yearn for her when she is not around. She is an excitement in your dull life, a taste of the outside world you haven’t seen.
There comes that look upon her face that you are so used to seeing now. Something more somber and serious than her usual teasing facade.
“Yes… I have just completed my final task for him.”
You feel a sinking in your stomach. Your earlier flirtations now feel… silly.
“You’ve been paid then..?” You venture to ask, brows drawing together. The clenching in your chest and the downturn of your lips strangely feel like disappointment.
“I have.” Kassandra states simply. She sighs, eyes glancing out towards the balcony for a moment. She seems to be thinking something over. She takes a step closer, knees almost bumping into your shins where you recline.
“I will be leaving Athens soon… my-” She hesitates. Does she tell you everything now? Her whole purpose in coming to the city? Her quest? The cult? Her family? “... contracts now lie in other places across the Aegean. I will leave with my ship tomorrow morning.”
“What?” You ask, almost startled. She was leaving? So soon? “Leaving-?” Your voice is, embarrassingly, tinged with panic. You begin to push yourself up on your elbows, chiton sliding across your skin to become entirely improper. You could care less.
Then, Kassandra does something you don’t expect.
She kneels before your kline, body half hovering over yours. The proximity is enough to have your words catching in your throat. A pretty flush settles over your cheeks as you're forced to meet her eyes. The smell of leather, olive oil, and sandalwood fills your nose.
Her strong arms cage you in at either side, your noses are almost brushing against one another. The heat of her body is palpable, even through her armor. You can feel her leather pteruges brushing your calves, the leather softly rasping over your skin. Her chestplate digs slightly into your thighs.
“Come with me.” She murmurs, tone low. The words are meant just for you.
Surprise overcomes any other emotion you’re feeling.
“What-?” Your whispered exclamation is cut off quickly.
“Come with me. Travel with me, on the Adrestia.” She implores once again, ducking her head. Her lips brush across your jaw. You make a soft noise, it sounds like a surrender. You tilt her head and you feel her brushing chaste kisses down your throat. Her touch makes you shudder, your heart kicking up its pace as your body begins to perk up.
“See the world with me. Feel the ocean breeze across your skin for the first time, leave these city walls, let me show you freedom.” Each word is murmured against you. Her warm breath fans across your skin, mingling with the clime of the day.
A gasp is torn from your lips as she nips at the junction between your neck and shoulder, trailing her lips to your exposed shoulder. You melt back into the cushions beneath you. She follows you down. It feels like molten heat is settling in your stomach. You do not know how she pulls this lust from you so easily, but you’re not complaining.
Your hands slide to her arms, feeling the well-built muscles under your palms. Your head tilts back against your pillows, lips parted with quickened breath. Her callused hands brush up to your hips, causing your chiton to bunch. She kneads into your pliant flesh.
“I could teach you to sail, have you stand with me at the helm. You would be free to do as you wished…” Kassandra breathes out over your skin, trailing lower and lower. She’s still trying to convince you, even when you haven’t given her your answer.
You knew what you wanted, wholeheartedly. Of course you would go with her. The truth is, you’d fallen deeply in love with the mercenary… You could hardly let her go. She completed you, made you whole. She was the sunlight streaming through your bedroom doorway, the honeyed taste of figs on your tongue, and she was the freedom of the eagle soaring outside. She was hard and callous, but held a gentleness reserved just for you. It was as if you’d cracked past the exterior of a pomegranate, finding the sweetened seeds within.
Besides, if you stayed, all that awaited you was a loveless marriage and a possible death on your birthing bed.
However, Kassandra isn’t leaving you in a state to speak these poetic thoughts to her.
One of her hands finds the slipping hem covering your chest. With a simple tug, she bares your chest to her.
You give a small squeak of surprise, a flush spreading to your ears. She shushes you, heated eyes meeting yours as her lips tug into a small smirk. Then, she descends upon you.
Kassandra brushes her lips over your collarbone, nipping playfully at the skin. It’s clear she intends to leave a mark… then she trails lower and lower… before she’s kissing around the mound of your breast.
You shudder, a sigh of pleasure leaving your lips. One of your hands finds her nape while the other tangles into her brunette tresses. It messes up her carefully woven braid, but neither of you really notice. You pull her closer like you can’t get enough of her, like you can meld your bodies together. Her touch is as warm and filling as the sun. It sets you ablaze, threatening to burn.
When she laves her tongue over your peak, you give a weak cry. To her, it sounds better than any song the muses could ever sing. You moan so prettily for her. She could get drunk off of that alone. No flask of even the finest bacchanal wine could make her feel as you do. She begins to lap at you in earnest, tugging whines from your lips..
“Kassandra.” You mewl, an encouragement. You do not care if anyone in the household hears.
“You always taste so sweet.” The words are murmured against your skin, skilled tongue curling around the syllables. Her voice causes a fluttering in your stomach. She trails her mouth to your other breast, kneading the previous in her hand. Her eyes are half-lidded through her long lashes as she drinks in your every reaction. Your eyes shutter, arching into her brazen touches. The want radiating through your body pools, thick and cloying, between your thighs.
She has hardly even begun, and yet you’re melting in her hands.
“I could teach you to hunt, to live for yourself. You would be beautiful with a bow. You could put the daughters of Artemis to shame.” The warrior speaks against your skin. The words are murmured between swipes of her tongue, her lashes fluttering with the ecstasy of tasting your skin.
Once she has you squirming for her, just from her mouth on your chest, you feel her body begin to slide down against yours. Her hands brush down over your thighs as her lips travel over your covered stomach… then abdomen.
“And every night… I could take you to shore. Every night would be just like this. Wouldn’t you like that?” Her words are husky and heated, leaving you more breathless by the moment.
“Y… Yes… Gods…” You nod shakily, struggling to be coherent. You shift where you lie, twitching your hips towards her.
“There are no gods here. It’s just you and me, erasmia.” The term of endearment rolls easily from Kassandra’s mouth.
Her calloused palms brush over your ankles as she gently parts them.
You blink open your hazy hues to gaze down at her… and the sight would’ve made you weak in the knees had you been standing. She’s gorgeous, the paragon of your desire. Her broad shoulders gently nudge your thighs open, she guides them to rest over her arms. She’s smiling, you realize, her head turned against the inside of your knee. You wish to see its radiance but you wouldn’t dare move her from where she is. The movement causes the silk of your skirts to bunch, dangerously close to exposing you.
Your paramour hums in satisfaction at the reveal of your bare skin. Her dark eyes are trained on your expression; eyes doe-like with soft parted lips. You feel her dangerous mouth skim across your knee, up to your thigh. They’re gentle, butterfly kisses. The way she touches you is reverential in nature.
She has never believed in the gods, for they had never done anything for her. But… having you like this… maybe there were supernatural beings in this world. Perhaps there were gods, perhaps Aphrodite had borne you from a rose. You were anointed with beauty that could rival any goddess… though she would not curse you by speaking the words aloud.
You suck in a breath as her lips skim to your inner thigh, holding it in anticipation for what you know comes next. A warm breeze blows through the open terrace. It caresses your bare chest, making you shudder. Every fibre of your being was wound with need.
But Kassandra was nothing if not a tease. You can feel her grin against your skin as she nips at your thigh. Her sharp canines travel across your plush flesh, leaving blooming red marks in their wake. It causes your muscles to twitch, shifting over her shoulders.
“I would keep you safe, of course. Nothing would touch you, nothing would even come close. Not while I’m around.” She speaks against your skin, the words almost muffled. Her nose nudges into your thigh as her face presses even closer.
You whine in frustration as the woman between your thighs travels her lips higher. She’s distinctly avoiding where you want her most, wet and weeping. Instead, her hands push you chiton around your waist. You're open, exposed for the taking. But she doesn’t seem to care. She sucks a mark into the jut of your hip bone, warm palms skimming over your thighs. She makes sure you stay open for her.
The mercenary is a terrible (beautiful) combination of passionate and possessive, often leaving marks that you struggle to hide from your father. Your body is a canvas for her marks of lust.
It is when she starts kissing across your stomach that you begin to beg. You feel close to trembling, losing yourself to the need she has (all too quickly) built you up to. There is not a sweeter torture.
“Kassandra… please.” You breathe, lips forming into a slight pout as she showers kisses on the flesh of your tummy. “I need you. Don’t be cruel.” Your voice is pathetic, tinged with desperation. You’re too entranced by her to be embarrassed by it.
She laughs softly against you. But… she can never resist you for long. You were a test of her self-control, one she often failed. You were her Achilles heel. She would do anything for you, that is what makes you so dangerous. If the knowledge of her only weakness got into the wrong hands… she could lose everything.
But Kassandra can’t help but need you anyways. She has lost so much in her life… she should at least have this luxury.
“I’ll give you what you need, o khara… I always will.” It sounds almost like a promise.
And it is. One she intends to keep.
She rips a quiet gasp from your throat as she skims her lips down your navel… and, this time, she does not stop her descent.
Kassandra, first, presses a kiss against your core. The touch surprises you and it is not nearly enough. You open your mouth to tell her such, but you’re quickly silenced.
Your lover wastes no time, perhaps just remembering that your father was still in the house or the fact that your maids could walk in at any moment. She flattens her tongue against you, tasting your essence. She groans into you, your ambrosia like honey on her tongue. You can feel the vibrations of it travelling through your body.
Your choke on your breath for a moment, hands scrambling to hold onto something. One hand tangles into her hair as the other grips the couch beneath you. She grunts at the pressure but does not protest. In fact, she follows your guidance, pressing closer.
Her tongue slides against your entrance, eagerly tasting all of you where you leak for her. You can feel her nose nudging into your pearl, sending jolts of pleasure up your spine. You moan, biting your lip to try and keep quiet.
She tsks, pulling away much to your dismay. Already, her lips are wet with your arousal.
“None of that, I want to hear you.” She rasps. You could argue, bring up the fact that anyone could very much be here. But gods, you don’t want her to stop.
You nod dumbly, tugging her face back to the apex of your thighs. She goes, chuckling at your easy compliance. You sigh in relief as her tongue swipes through your folds once more.
Your hips arch into her ministrations. You crave more… so much more. You think, in times like these, that you understand how Icarus must have felt. A strong forearm slings across your hips, pressing you flat against the cushions for her taking. Her other slides to your haunch, gripping the pliant flesh. She keeps you spread for her.
Kassandra drinks from you like she is dying of thirst. She is messy, trying to taste every bit of you. The woman was skilled with her tongue. You can feel as she dips her tongue teasingly at your entrance before lapping over your clit, suckling until she repeats the pattern again. It has you melting for her… helpless to do anything but take the gift she gives you.
She is godlike, radiant from the late sun. She could be Eros incarnate, beautiful and salacious between your thighs.
You writhe, even under her strong hold. You tug, not too hard, at her hair. You need more. You mewl with every pass of her tongue over you…
“Ah…” Your lips are parted with exerted breaths, breasts heaving with the force of them. Kassandra is enraptured by the sight, fiery eyes locked on you from where she feasts. “Kassandra.. Mm.. don’t you dare stop.” It sounds like an order from your mouth.
Soon, she zeroes in on your pearl. You think she might suffocate from how she presses her face into your cunt. If she was a lioness, she’d be mauling you. She suckles at your clit, causing your body to twitch from the overwhelming feelings of pleasure. Your eyes flutter closed, mellisonant sighs and cries of ecstasy pouring from your pretty lips.
“So beautiful…” Kassandra murmurs against you. Her hand slides from your thigh to prod at your entrance, testing. “Taste so good, can never get enough of you. And you’re always so wet…” You don’t have the awareness to feel embarrassed by her teasing.
She slides two long fingers inside you, huffing as she feels your cunt flutter around the digits. You shudder, body not knowing how to handle the twin sensations. She continues to lap at your nub. But her fingers begin a slow slide, curling within you just right.
The wet sounds between your thighs are obscene. You can feel your own slickness and her saliva on the inside of your thighs, combined with the sting of where Kassandra had marked you earlier. Her attention is never ending.
Every thrust of her fingers inside of you wrenches a moan from you. They filled you so deeply, much better than your own. She has ruined you for anyone else. Embarrassingly, you can feel your peak approaching already. Desire pools in your stomach, a coil tightening.
Kassandra can evidently feel it too, the way you flutter around her. Gods… you got so tight when you were close. It was maddening. She doubles her efforts, moaning into your cunt as she flattens her tongue over your pearl.
Her free hand moves to your hips, encouraging you to grind against her face and fingers. You do, settling into a shaky rhythm. She was giving you everything. Your breathing is labored, hardly able to moan through your panting. It’s desperate and so dirty…
Every pass of your hips as her fingers pressing closer, digits finding the spongy spot inside of you. It only takes a couple more grinds of your hips before you’re falling over the edge.
“That’s it… look at you.” Kassandra praises, voice low and heady as she guides you through your peak. She continues to murmur dirty praises into your skin as you lose yourself to hedonistic ecstasy. Her fingers slow into gentle pushes, letting your release pool between them. Waves of pleasure roll through you, and you take them gladly. There is a faint perspiration upon your brow and your cheeks are flushed prettily.
Your partner presses kisses against you, digits sheathed till you whimper in overstimulation. You nudge her head away with your palm and she takes the signal. You shudder as she pulls her fingers from you, watching with half-lidded eyes as she licks them clean. Her chin glistens with evidence of your carnal sin.
You tug her up into a kiss, pliant lips against her own. She follows your direction easily. Your arms slide around her shoulders, feeling her warmth. Her hands are planted on either side of your head, firm body balanced above you. You can taste yourself on her tongue. Your body is still buzzing from satiation, lazy and full.
Kassandra hums into the kiss. Slowly, you pull away for breath. Both of your breathing is still labored. Gently, you brush your fingers along her tan cheek. She leans into the touch, nose brushing your own. The look in her eyes can only be described as loving devotion.
“Of course I will go with you.” You utter against her, voice shot from all your keening. “There is nowhere else I would rather be than at your side, Kassandra.”
Her grin is more radiant than the stars..
-
That very night, she climbs your terrace once again.
But this time, you’ll be leaving with her.
She coaxes you out of bed with a multitude of kisses across your cheeks. There are quiet shushes and giggles as you get out of bed to dress.
Kassandra drapes a shroud around your shoulders, making sure it obscures your face. She gently guides you from your bedroom, her hands at your waist help you climb down the ivy that clings to the rough clay walls. You travel like silent mice, the guards none the wiser to your midnight escape.
Her loyal steed, Phobos, awaits you a distance away from the villa walls. She hoists you up easily, settling you onto the knit pad on the horse's back. Phobos stands still for you, quiet and patient.
She joins you, clicking her tongue and nudging her heels into the animal's side. The beast’s stride is smooth and sure, and soon enough your villa is fading into the starry sky behind you.
Kassandra’s body is warm at your back, arms strong and heavy as she holds you. She guides your head back to rest on her shoulder, murmuring words of affection into your hair.
You ride together under the protection of Selene, off to a new life you would build. Together.
hiiiii!!! omg i’ve been looking for someone who writes for soma, i’m so in love with her😞 i saw that your requests were open and i was wondering if you could write some headcanons for soma with an affectionate s/o but she’s kinda shy, so she has a hard time expressing it? i really hope that makes sense aha, thank you so much for the consideration though!
She isn't the best at expressing affection as well so she totally gets it. She isn't big on PDA either so except for the fact that you had a very public marriage no one would know you two are together.
Expresses her affection through gifts and acts of service rather than physical touch. Gives you wine, honey, knives, and such gifts.
She loves the shy smiles you send her from across the room. She knows they are just meant for her which makes them really special.
Don't get mad if you get cuteness aggression and bite her. She would probably just laugh and pet your hair.
Likes the subtly of hand holding its the easiest way for her to express her love physically so there is a ton of hand-holding going on.
I headcannon Eivor to be a shy girl forced to be extroverted. This means you two rarely go anywhere out of Ravensthrope unless you absolutely have to. Plus she likes keeping you safe at home.
She is always going to talk for you when you are out in public whether it be asking for your food or telling someone to get out of your way. Unless you specifically ask her not to obviously.
She has a way of making you feel comfortable even in the most uncomfortable circumstances. It's just like her presence. Scary dog privilege on steroids.
Ultimate comfort item she is just walking talking teddy bear. Gives the best bear hugs imaginable.
Literally, all of her friends love you and think you are the most adorable thing to exist. It helps that Evior is constantly talking about you.
She is always putting your comfort first if you want to leave twenty minutes into an event you leave. She really does not give a single fuck. The long house is too loud she'll take you out to the woods where you can have absolute silence. She would do anything for your comfort.
She will offer to beat the shit out of anyone who even makes a weird glance at you.
Summary: You go to a party and get kidnapped by Kate and Yelena
Author's note: All I could think of is Shayne from Smosh yelling kidnepapped.
Everyone on your campus knew to go to Yelena whenever they needed anything they happened to be too young to purchase. She graduated last year but still hung around campus profiting off of students at parties and outside of classrooms.
Her girlfriend Kate a rich girl with an affinity for getting invited to any party she asked about only helped her grow her influence. You wouldn’t know who she was expecting for your friends buying from her for a party they were throwing. In exchange, she was paid and invited to the party giving her more opportunities to reach her claws into the underclassmen.
This has all led you to your current situation abandoned on your friend's couch surrounded by people making out, fighting, and Drinking. The only enjoyable part of this experience was the people watching but mostly watching Yelena. Her hair is slicked back and her eyeliner is heavier than usual. As much as you don’t want to be attracted to her you can’t help it. Between the aura and the accent, she just attracts men and women alike to her and you are different. You can tell how she bagged Kate. Kate and Yelena were the power couple on campus before Yelena Graduated. She seems to excuse herself from a conversation before making her way to Kate who is in the middle of an intense game of beer pong. They start whispering to each other. Their words are indefinable due to the angle of their faces. You blush as they both look up catching you in your staring. You turn to focus on a group of boys insulting each other hoping for fists to start flying so you dont feel so embarrassed.
“You were staring pretty hard” Someone whispers in your ear. You startle turning around to find Kate resting her elbows on the couch. “Sorry. It wasn’t on purpose” You look back towards the boys to see that they devolved into a complete bloodbath as someone had drawn a knife. “How about we get out of here before the cops show up? Yelena’s car is out front and I am really in the mood for some hot chicken”. It's been so long since you let yourself just do something fun. You spend all your time studying, in class, or sleeping. “You’re sure Yelena won’t mind,” You ask watching as Yelena chats up one of your friends. “She is the one who brought it up”. “Okay, I’ll go with you two” You start from the couch grab your purse, and follow Kate outside to Yelena’s car. Rather than her usual sports car Kate unlocks a jeep and helps you into it.
“Are you two going off-roading tonight?” You question buckling into the back seat. “My family has a cabin about an hour from here Yelena and I were planning on spending the night there. We like to go there every couple of weeks to get away from the people here.” Kate explains. “Sorry girls I got caught up with some business.” Yelena slides in turning the car on. “So Kate said that you wanted to invite me. Why?” You question as Yelena pulls away from your friend's house. “Because I wanted you to come”
“That’s not a real answer. Why did you want me to come on your little date night?” You unintentionally make eye contact with Yelena in the review mirror. “You want the truth,” Yelena asks her gaze returning to the road. “I wouldn't have asked if I didn’t” You shoot back.”We want to fuck you.” Yelena says it so plainly as if this is an average conversation for her. “Mmh and how many girls have you had in this exact position.” You question as Yelena Pulls the car into the hot chicken drive-through. “Not many actually…” Kate starts before Yelena interrupts her with your order. “None in this exact position. We normally just fuck at the parties we’ve never invited one out” Yelena mentions a smirk clear on her face. She likes to prove you wrong just because it pisses you off.
Once food is acquired Yelena pulls into a nearby children's park. It is abandoned due to the late hour as the three of you sit at the swing set hot chicken in hand. It's almost relaxing if you can forget why they brought you here. “So you were just going to fuck me in the back of your car?” You ask looking over at the two of them curiously. “Not in the car we are not savages” Yelena scoffs at the insult. “We were going to take you to our cabin. It’s nice you'll love it” Kate adds. “I don’t think that's a good idea I have class tomorrow. Maybe another time” You add to try and lessen the blow. It's not that you don’t want to fuck them but going to a cabin in the woods with a rich girl who could literally get away with murder and a known drug dealer doesn't seem like a smart idea.
They share a look that worries you until Yelena looks back at you with a smile. “Okay we can drop you at your dorm” Yelena stands tossing her food into a nearby trashcan. “We need to get back if you're going to get to bed on time” Kate’s smile is almost sincere. “Okay, I can walk you guys don’t have to drive me” You hurry after them. “Don’t be ridiculous. It’s dangerous for a little girl like yourself out here. Now get in the car” Yelena opens your door rather aggressively and you slide in.
She leans over to buckle you. As much as you want to fight you don’t you’ve already pissed them off enough. “Goodnight Malishka” Yelena clicks your seatbelt in. “What” Her hand comes up to your nose and a rag is held in it. How could you have missed that earlier where the fuck was she hiding it. A slightly fruity sweet smell adults your senses as a forced sleep takes your body.
When you wake you're cuffed to a bed and it's not your own that much is for sure. It all comes rushing back to you. The party Yelena and Kate the rag. They really are what people make them out to be. “Oh, you're awake darling” You look up as Kate enters the bedroom. This is the most unput-together you've ever seen her. She is wearing black sweats that are at least two sizes too big and a baggy sweater with the neck cut out. “You kidnaped me” You cross your arms as much as you can while cuffed to the wall. “Is it really kidnapping if you're not a child” She leans against the door frame and fuck she's sexy. You really should be focusing on how to get out of here they fucking kidnapped you.
“You have to let me go I have classes “ you argue pulling on the cuffs harshly. It hurts your wrist not that you would ever admit that to her. “You can’t leave she won’t let you which means I can’t let you either” Kate’s smile turns said but she still doesn’t seem that upset. “You guys are fucking crazy you kidnapped me” You scream pulling on your cuff aggressively. “I’ll fucking kill you let me go” You scream trashing wildly. “Shh sh sh don’t get yourself all worked up. If you keep pulling on your arm like that you're going to get hurt. Then your mommy will get upset and I promise you don’t want that.” Kate’s hands hold you as you stop thrashing. “What the fuck did you just say.” You glare directly at her waiting for a clear response.
“That is not the kind of language you should be using Malishka” Yelena startles you and your gaze cheeks over to her. Her hair is freshly washed and she is holding a bowl in her hands.”I was going to bring you some cereal but I guess you don’t really do it
“ She sets the bowl down on a table by the door and comes over to the bed. She uncuffs your wrist as Kate holds your free hand tightly in both of her own. As if you could even get away from one of her hands. “ You hurt your wrist” Yelena cooes inspecting the red lacerations on your wrist. “Just let me go please” You whisper. “I am afraid we can’t do that Malishka” Yelena faux pouts tucking a strand of hair behind your ear.
Summary: you meet Ellie and Dina and you and Abby have a serious discussion.
Wordcount: 1.2K
The next morning you eat breakfast with Abby before she heads out into the snow to do a couple of chores. It’s a little unnerving to be left alone with your thoughts after spending so much time together. What would your father think of you now? You’d run away from a perfectly good match in his eyes and now you are staying with a woman. No doubt he would be scandalized no honest man would marry you now. You startle as the door creaks open.
“Who are you?” the auburn-haired woman says entering the house. “Where is Abby who are you?” you ask backing away as she shucks off her coat and boots.” I’m Ellie now you” She steps forward until she is just a breath away from you.”Im nobody Abby saved me from the snow once it clears I'll be on my way” You explain still trying to back away from her to no avail. “Ellie stop trying to intimidate her.” You let out a breath you didn't release you were holding.
“I wasn’t intimidating her she wasn’t answering my questions.”Ellie backs off and you creep over to Abby you hold a stack of firewood in your arms. “ Ellie sit down just let me get her sorted then you can ask me all the questions you want.” Abby nudges you with her arm and you head off towards the den Abby trailing after you. “Don’t worry she isn't like that all the time.”Abby feeds the fire as you settle onto the couch. “I will talk to her and then we could boil some water for your bath?” Abby offers. “That sounds really good” You hadn’t realized how sore you were but now that she mentions it a bath sounds really nice. “Just give me a couple of minutes.” she presses a kiss to the top of your head before heading back to the kitchen.
What are you doing? Could you really have a relationship with this woman? Sure it wouldn’t be normal but it wouldn’t be too bad she has a nice home and friends. Maybe you could just stay here. Maybe your father wouldn't even come looking for you. Or maybe its all wishful thinking and even though you're damaged goods he will try to marry you off to help his business.
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It wasn’t your intention to fall asleep while Abby and Ellie were talking but the next thing you know Abby is gently shaking you awake. “You’re baths ready” You sit up and look around your eyes struggling to focus. “How long was I asleep.” you rub the sleep from your eyes carefully. “Not long but I did get you a dress for you to wear because Ellie invited us for dinner.” you stand on wobbly legs and take note of the large tub placed in front of the fire.”That hasn’t always been there right” You question walking towards it. “No, but I thought it might be warmer if I put it by the fireplace,” Abby explains. “You gonna get it” she questions from behind you. “Yes. Are you going to go upstairs?” you turn to look at her where she has sat on the couch her legs spread wide. “I can if you want me to.”. “No stay I just that I have never undressed in front of anyone before. I know it's stupid you've seen me undressed before. It feels different when I am the one doing the undressing.” You explain feeling a little ridiculous
“That isn’t Ridiculous. These manners and rules have been drilled into you from birth it will be hard to shake them. But if you want to stay here with me… as my wife, I would help you unlearn as much or as little as you want.” Abby explains her eyes boring into you. “You still want me as your wife. You do know this is quite an unusual situation.” it all seems too good to be true. A woman wanting to marry you even in your tarnished state though it is her who did the tarnishing. It is still quite unusual. “ The funny thing about that is im quite an unusual woman. It's not often someone catches my gaze and when I find something I want I don’t generally let it get away.” You begin to undress before stepping in and sinking into the comforting warmth. “Ellie and I were talking about it and we could have the pastor here soon after the snow clears. If your father comes looking for you after that he would be too late as you would be wed to me.”
“Okay, I agree but I want rules all of this is going rather fast for my taste. I want to wait to consummate our marriage until I am ready.” you begin to massage some soap into your hair the familiar scent of Abby fills your nose. “Of course, we will wait as long as you need to feel comfortable.” Abby agrees quickly. “So what do think we will have for dinner” you try to shift the subject as best you can.
“Dina will probably make stew. That's pretty much the only meal the baby will eat.”.
“I forgot about the baby. Is he cute”
“I would say so but you might know babies that are more adorable.”
“I haven’t met many babies so I doubt it”
“Im sure you'll love him then.”
Okay I hate to be mean but this dress is ugly.” You step out of the bedroom in the plum-purple dress. It just doesn't suit you as well as it did its original owner at least you assume so. “It's not that bad” Abby looks as if she's about to laugh. “It is that bad. I can’t go like this” You throw up your hands in frustration. “It's not that bad plus it's just Dina and Ellie who won’t care. JJ is too young to remember this dress.”
“Fine but I never want to talk about this again”
“I will never bring it up”
You both leave and Abby carries you through the snow until your standing at their doorstep. She knocks at the door before letting herself in. “It's just us” She announced as the two of you took off your shoes. “We are in the kitchen” Ellie calls back her voice somewhat familiar. You trail behind Abby as she leads you through the house. A woman meets you in the hall with a smile on her face. “Im Dina it good to meet you” She pulls you into a hug and you hug back slightly unsure of yourself. “ we will eat in here” She pulls you into a dining room and pushes you to sit at a table where Ellie is already sits playing with their baby. “This is JJ. Her you hold him” She hands you the baby before hurting out after her wife. “That was abrupt We barely met.” you bounce the baby slightly trying to soothe it even though it seems fine. “She probably just wants a minute alone with her wife,” Abby says petting the baby's head.
It's nearly half an hour before Eliie and Dina return slightly sweaty and disheveled. “Dinner is served ladies” Dina sets out the bowls and fills them before taking back her baby to feed him from her own bowl. “So you and Abby are going to get married,” Ellie asks only to be smacked by Dina with her spoon. “ That was rude” Dina scolds. “It's okay we talked and I said yes.” you begin to eat to avoid answering any other questions. Let Abby answer them as retribution for getting you this ugly dress.
Summary: This follows the plot of their wayward bride by Vanessa Vale. Basically, you run away from an arranged marriage. in the process of running away, you get lost in a blizzard and Abby saves you. Now you are trying to get to know each other and figure out how to move forward.
Chapter 2
Waking feels like a chore you almost don’t want to. You are cuddled into a bed with someone at your back, their hot breath on the back of your neck. Wait, who are you in bed with? You sit up and turn to see a woman lying beside you
. It all comes rushing back to your father and that man, running away, and the person who you know realizes it is a woman cuddled beside you. She's the one who pulled you from the snow and kept you warm. You’ve never heard of a woman working on a ranch before.
“Are you done staring?” She asks, her eyes still closed, startling you slightly. “Oh yes, I’m sorry” you press a hand to your chest only to be met with bare skin. “ Where are my clothes?” You ask, pulling the blanket up to cover yourself. “They were frozen. You can borrow some on mine,” she explains sitting up in the process and exposing her breasts. They are small but very cute. Why are you thinking like this? You barely know this woman. “Is your head feeling alright you took quite the tumble last night?” she asks, pressing the back of her hand to your forehead. “I feel fine, a little sore but alright.”
“How about some breakfast if you feel up to it of course.”She offers to step from the bed, leaving you to stare at her exposed skin. “Umh sure” You blink a couple of times with a blush coating your face. You can wear this for now. I'll find you something better later. I'm sure Dina will have something that will fit you.” She explains handing over a simple white slip. “These are hardly clothes.” the headmistress at your school wouldn’t even let you wear just a slip in the comfort of your room. “It will be enough that you aren't going to be able to leave here anytime soon.”
“What do you mean?” You ask slightly frightened she may try to keep you here against your will. Had you really traded one cage for another? “The snow hasn’t stopped, it will take weeks to clear enough from you to get off our land let alone get you back where you came from.”She explains. “ Now how about that breakfast.” she looks at you sitting on the bed slip still in hand. “Would you mind waiting outside the door while I put this on?” You try to regain at least some of your modesty. “Of course” She smiles and the sight is breathtaking.
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“Who is Dina,” You ask, slowly eating your oatmeal trying to savor it as much as you can. “She's my friend, her wife Ellie works the ranch with me. They have a little boy named Jj” Abby whose name you've just learned says before taking a large bite of oatmeal. Her bowl is twice the size of yours. When prompted she only stated that she was a big girl and she needed to fuel her muscles. “How many others work the Ranch with you” “There is Ellie, Vi she's got a wife Caitlyn she's a really good hunter, then Sevika she has Mel but they've got their eyes set on this girl in the next town over,” she explains before scooping the last bite of Oatmeal into her mouth.
“How did you come to be here? Ranching I mean” you smooth a hand over your slip nervously. “ I was in the army with Ellie when we were discharged. We wandered for a bit before she met Dina. This was Dina’s family's ranch but they passed away and now we take care of it.” “And how did the others get to be here?” You feel nosy but you're so curious. You can’t even read about anything this interesting, “ Vi and Ellie were friends before the war and after they found each other again Vi brought Caitlyn then Caitlyn invited Mel and Mel brought Sevika.”
“So do I get to ask my questions now” Abby asks, grabbing your empty bowl and moving to clean it out. “ Yes, but I have the ability to decline”. “I wouldn't expect anything less. Why are you out there in a blizzard? " She dried the bowl before setting it in the cabinet. “I was running away.” You follow her as she heads into the den the fire from last night dying out. “Who were you running from?” She asks adding a couple of logs and stoking it slightly. “My father wanted me to marry and wouldn’t let me refuse.” you sit on the couch crossing your legs carefully. “ And you don’t want to marry.” She asks, turning to face you. “It's not that I don’t want to but he had to pick this man. He is so old. His kids are probably the same age as me and he looks like he killed his last wife.” You explain an annoyed tone taking over. “So it was the suitor that was the problem”.
“Yes. Why are you so interested in my suitors.” You ask as she sits next to you. “Well I was hoping to court you.” your head whips over so fast a crack reverberates through your body.
“Really.”
“Yes. Is it that nerve-racking.”
“It's just that… You're so beautiful surely you have someone”
“Why would I lie in bed with you if I had someone”
“I don’t know”
“I'm not asking anything of you other than to stay a couple of days and see if you like it here. If you like me.”She had the last part so quietly you could barely catch it.
“I’ll stay, it's not like there is another option right now.”
“If you still want to leave when the weather clears I will take you to the next town or back to your father’s home if you prefer.” Abby offers still staring at you, her freckled cheeks flushed a soft red. “I appreciate that” You don’t know what compels you to take her hand but as soon as you do her eyes light up as she smiles. “ so what do you have to do around here”
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You and Abby spend the day reading and exchanging stories of your childhood. You had learned her father was a doctor and he too had sent her to a boarding school in hopes she would want to become a doctor as well. Only Abby had been kicked out after starting a fight with her childhood best friend Nora. They hadn’t seen each other since that day after finishing Abby headed upstairs to get ready for bed trailing behind her. “Did she ever apologize for getting you kicked out’? “No, She hasn’t sent me so much as a letter since that day. I tried to reach out when her mother died but she wanted nothing to do with me.” She explains sliding into bed. “But you were best friends, how could you go from that to never speaking again?” Abby just shrugs as you round the bed to sit next to her. “It happens more often than you would think.” you cuddle into her side to leech some of her warmth. “I had a best friend when I was in school.”
“What happened?” Abby asks, her hand petting over your hair. “Her father sent for her. I guess she is married now, maybe she even has a kid.”. “We could try to find her so you could exchange letters.” Abby offers. She is so kind there is no doubt in your mind that the man your father arranged for you to marry would not have ever been this kind to you. “I doubt her husband would let her talk to me anyway. Maybe I could meet Dina soon, we could be friends”. “Im sure she would like that”
Summary: This follows the plot of their wayward bride by Vanessa Vale. Basically, you run away from an arranged marriage. in the process of running away you get lost in a blizzard and Abby saves you
Please comment if you like otherwise I probs won't write another chapter. If I do post another it will be longer this one's short because I didn't want to put a ton of effort in for it to just flop.
Chapter one: Runaway bride
You had spent your entire life at a boarding school. Your mother died in childbirth and when your father remarried his wife refused to have you in her home. Your father's solution was to send you away and never bring you home not even for holidays.
The thing you got most was a dumb letter telling you that he loved you. When he sent for you shortly after your birthday you were ecstatic maybe his wife had finally changed her mind. But instead of being met with a happy family, you were met with a middle-aged balding man at the altar waiting for you. Of course, you should have never assumed your father would be better than this. Every girl you went to school with has already been married your father tells you you should be grateful I made this match for you he tells you.
He tells you this as if you should be grateful he has sold you off to a man twice your age at least. Who looks as if he murdered his last wife in cold blood. This is how you ended up riding a stolen horse in the middle of a blizzard. It's really not your best move but you can’t exactly stay and there is still a chance you can make it to the next town over. Hopefully, someone there will help you. Not that you really know where that town is anymore. You were on track but with the wind whipping the snow around you your visions became nearly non-existent. The horse's vision must be limited too because the next thing you know you are lying on the ground the horse whining in pain as your mind fades in and out of consciousness.
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“Are you okay? Can you hear me” Someone says above you their face blocked out by the snow. You try to speak but can’t seem to open you move instead letting out a soft whine. “It's going to be okay I am taking you inside. Im going to pick you up now” And true to their ward you are held against a strong chest as they carry you away. The strong scent of pine fills your nose and you try to cuddle closer and steal some of their Warmth. “It's okay we are almost home then you'll be warm,” they promise.
“You smell good” you mumble into their jacket. You startle as they chuckle a deep sound that reverberates through their chest. “Thank you” You let out a happy sound as they open the door light flooding your vision and an abrupt temperature straddling your body. “Here the fires going in the den. They carry you into the den and lay you on the floor in front of the fireplace. Their fingers begin to unbutton your dress with a practiced ease. “ I can’t I've never “ You start the words not quite making sentences. “It's okay your clothes are soaked you'll never warm up with them on.” They explain as you finally get a look at them. Long blonde hair and a strong nose are all you can make out through tired eyes. Once you undressed she wraps you in a blanket and holds you to her chest your back to the fire. “Where am I “You ask your nose burrowed into there next. “Bridgewater ranch my friends and I live here I heard your horse and came looking thinking it was one of ours. I came looking but I found you instead not that I am complaining princess.” you cuddle in exhaustion overtaking your body. “Im safe here” You question your voice heavy with sleep. “I'll keep you safe rest now”.
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.
i was asked (peer pressured affectionately) to write a cowboy ambessa fic for my friend as her christmas gift, so be excited for that when i finish it lol
working on it asap, hopefully done tonight? not sure
baratheonpilled
2087
turnnoffyourmind
pixelskylines
romaincrisis
blakekathryn
