voreternity

[voreternity]

🌸 From One Mother’s Heart – Please Read 🌸

My name is Saja. I’m a wife, a mother, and a woman who once believed her story would be simple. I thought my days would be filled with watching my daughter grow — from her first smile to her first steps — surrounded by the small joys of everyday life.

But life had other plans.

War has returned to our home. Again. And once again, we find ourselves living under skies that never seem to rest.

There was a moment — a fragile, breathless moment — when the bombs paused and the world seemed to remember us. It gave us hope. We thought maybe, just maybe, we could start to rebuild. But now, we are back in the dark — hiding, holding on, praying.

I’m writing this not as someone seeking pity, but as a mother who has no other choice but to speak.

Imagine holding your baby in the middle of the night, not because she cried, but because the world outside roared too loud for either of you to sleep. Imagine whispering bedtime stories not to lull her into dreams, but to keep the fear from settling into her tiny bones.

This is my life.

This is my daughter’s life.

And even now — especially now — I believe in softness. I believe in kindness. Because when everything else is taken from you, hope becomes the most valuable thing you have.

Why I’m Reaching Out Our home has been damaged. Our lives changed. But through it all, my daughter wakes up every morning with a smile. She reaches for me with trust, with love, with faith that I will keep her safe.

That’s why I keep going.

I’ve launched a campaign to ask for help — not because it’s easy, but because silence is no longer an option. I am asking for support not just for me, but for my baby, and for the quiet strength of so many mothers like me who are fighting, every single day, to hold their families together.

How You Can Help: 🤍 Help us restore parts of our home so we can live with dignity 🤍 Support women and mothers in Gaza with access to care and resources 🤍 Keep the light of hope alive for a generation born in the shadows of war

💛 If you can, please support our journey here:

If you can’t give, please consider sharing. Your voice might be the reason someone else hears ours.

From My Heart to Yours Maybe our lives are worlds apart. Maybe you’ve never lived through war. But if you’ve ever held a child and wished the world could be better for them — then you understand more than you know.

I don’t want my daughter to grow up thinking the world turned away.

Please, if you’ve read this far — thank you. Thank you for seeing us. Thank you for caring. We are still here. Still hoping. Still holding on to every kind act like it’s a lifeline.

With love and endless gratitude

[voreternity]

damn that Olympian ambrosia rly hits different

[voreternity]

ur aphronyx is my lifeline my oxygen i hope u always get whatever u want in life

LMAO the fact ur url and this image go together so perfectly—

ty tho, pls have this older wip of them <3

[voreternity]

re8 greek mythology design collection

[voreternity]

the character i'm defending with my life ↴

ambessa ‹𝟹

[voreternity]

NEED HER!!!!

[voreternity]

I love your work ! Spend the weekend reading it all !!💕

Was wondering if I can request something cute with mel shutting up R with a kiss when she talks about nerd stuff

𝐀 𝐏𝐚𝐮𝐬𝐞 𝐁𝐞𝐭𝐰𝐞𝐞𝐧 𝐓𝐡𝐨𝐮𝐠𝐡𝐭𝐬

𝐌𝐞𝐥 𝐌𝐞𝐝𝐚𝐫𝐝𝐚 𝐱 𝐟𝐞𝐦! 𝐑𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫

✰⍣..𝐌𝐞𝐥 𝐬𝐢𝐥𝐞𝐧𝐜𝐞𝐬 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐞𝐧𝐝𝐥𝐞𝐬𝐬 𝐫𝐚𝐦𝐛𝐥𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐚 𝐤𝐢𝐬𝐬- 𝐬𝐥𝐨𝐰 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐮𝐭𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐲 𝐢𝐧𝐭𝐨𝐱𝐢𝐜𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠. 𝐈𝐧 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐬𝐩𝐚𝐜𝐞 𝐛𝐞𝐭𝐰𝐞𝐞𝐧 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝𝐬 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐮𝐧𝐫𝐚𝐯𝐞𝐥.

The night unfolds in slow, luxurious strokes, a painting made of candlelight and the scent of warm jasmine oil curling through the still air. The silk-draped walls of Mel’s chambers breathe in gold and shadow, catching the flicker of the flames in a way that makes the space feel suspended—untouched by time, untouched by anything but the quiet hum of the city beyond.

And in the heart of it, there is you.

Your body is half-curled into the velvet embrace of her chaise, bare feet tucked beneath you, the weight of a thick research book resting against your thighs. You are a scholar first, a seeker of knowledge before all else, and tonight is no exception.

Mel watches you from her place beside you, her body a study in practiced ease—one arm draped along the back of the chaise, the other cradling a glass of wine between her fingers. She is not a woman who moves without purpose. Every tilt of her head, every shift of her gaze, is calculated—designed to disarm, to draw in, to conquer without force.

And yet, with you, she only watches. Listens. Waits.

You have yet to notice.

Your thoughts are elsewhere, carried away on the tide of your own endless curiosity. She can see it in the way your fingers twitch against the edge of the page, in the way your lips part—just slightly—before the words come spilling forth.

“Did you know,” you begin, voice quiet, though threaded with that familiar excitement, “that mana resonance in an enclosed system can mimic organic energy cycles? If properly refined, it could—”

She lets you speak.

Because how could she not?

Your voice moves like water, fluid and untamed, slipping through the cracks of everything structured and expected. You are not careful with your words—not in the way she is. You do not weigh them like weapons or measure them like currency. You offer them freely, without hesitation, without fear of scarcity.

And gods, it is mesmerizing.

“—Heimerdinger’s equations suggest a degradation over time, but I think there’s an alternative model he failed to consider—”

Mel shifts, the movement slow, deliberate.

You don’t notice. Not yet.

“—which, if applied correctly, could lead to a near-zero energy loss in transitional states, but the real question is whether—”

She reaches out. Her fingers find your jaw, the touch feather-light, as if tracing the edges of something fragile, something precious.

And at last—finally—your words falter.

The breath between them catches, uncertain, unfinished. Mel smiles.

“You were saying?” she murmurs, her voice honeyed silk, warm and knowing.

You blink, your mind caught between the unraveling of theory and the sudden, grounding presence of her touch.

“I—I was just explaining that—”

Mel tilts your face up, just enough to catch the flickering glow of candlelight in your eyes.

“Yes?”

The syllable is a whisper, a challenge wrapped in something softer.

You swallow. “That the—”

Mel kisses you. It is not rushed. It is not desperate. It is the slow press of warmth against parted lips, the quiet hum of something inevitable unfurling between the space of a breath.

She tastes of wine and something sweeter, something richer—something that lingers even after she pulls back, leaving only the ghost of her touch against your mouth.

Silence drapes itself over the room like silk, thick and heavy, waiting to be disturbed.

Mel watches you with a gaze too knowing, too self-satisfied.

“Much better,” she muses, the curve of her lips betraying the amusement she does not speak.

You inhale sharply, blinking as though trying to recalibrate your thoughts—trying to remember the shape of the sentence you had been building, the argument you had been forming.

It is gone. Utterly, entirely gone.

“You—” The word is breathless, half-formed. You shake your head, as if that might clear it. “You could have just asked me to stop talking.”

Mel hums, low in her throat, her fingers still tracing lazy patterns along your jaw.

“And deny myself the pleasure of watching you unravel?”

Your breath catches.

The way she says it—the way the word curls around her tongue like something intimate, something meant only for the two of you—sends a flush of heat pooling beneath your skin.

Mel’s smile deepens. Ah. So easy. So devastatingly easy.

She shifts closer, not quite touching, but close enough that the warmth of her presence presses against you like a second skin. Close enough that when she speaks again, her words brush against the corner of your mouth.

“I rather like this method.”

Your pulse is a traitor, betraying you in the way it quickens beneath her touch.

The sharp edges of your mind—so precise, so measured—have gone soft, dulled by the haze of something unfamiliar, something intoxicating.

You are a woman of logic. A woman of reason.

And yet, here you are, utterly undone by nothing more than the careful placement of Mel Medarda’s lips against yours.

She sees it. She sees everything.

And gods, she enjoys it. But she is not cruel.

So, she waits.

Waits for you to find your breath again. Waits for you to find the words you are so used to wielding with ease.

You inhale. You exhale.

And then, very quietly, you murmur:

“…Would you do it again?”

Mel’s breath hitches—so softly, so imperceptibly, that you might have imagined it.

But you didn’t.

A slow, deliberate smile unfurls across her lips, golden eyes gleaming with something deeper, something satisfied.

“Darling,” she murmurs, brushing a thumb over the corner of your mouth, “all you ever had to do was ask.”

And this time—when she kisses you—there are no more words between you.

Only the quiet, steady hum of something waiting to be understood.

[voreternity]

Fire and Ice

Hey, hey, hey! I'm back. (not for long, i'm sorry for still not updating that Sevika fic, tee hee) It's finally time to write about Ambessa, my no. 1 muscle mommy RAAGHHH. I saw a fic inspiration from a prompt saying how would Ambessa fare with someone who has the same status or standing as them, of equal importance and such. That idea stayed in my mind for like...a long time, before I actually found the will to write this. I hope it's to your liking!

The war table was laid out in the heart of the grand strategy hall of Noxus, its dark stone bathed in the glow of torches that lined the walls like sentinels. The air was thick with tension, the scent of steel and smoke mixing with the scent of parchment and old ink. Maps were sprawled across the surface, marked with crimson lines of conquests and blue counters denoting enemy forces. Seated at one end of the table, you kept your hands folded, your crimson-painted armor polished to perfection, giving no indication of the battles you had fought nor the sleepless nights spent orchestrating victory from the shadows. Your reputation preceded you. The "Ice of Noxus," they called you—calculated, unyielding, and relentless in strategy. You were not one for empty boasts or needless bloodshed; efficiency was your doctrine, and success was your law. Across from you sat the Lioness of Noxus herself—Ambessa Medarda. A warrior unlike any other, her sheer presence a force of nature, her reputation built on unbreakable will and a lifetime of victories. Her form was adorned in golden pauldrons, her signature deep red cape draped behind her like the bloodstained banner of war itself. She had been watching you for the better part of the meeting, her intense gaze never wavering, even as others debated strategy and countermeasures. You felt the heat of her presence, a direct contrast to your own calculated cold. “The eastern front is still holding, despite the resistance,” one of the generals spoke, his voice edged with frustration. “We could force their surrender if we—” “Burn them out,” Ambessa interjected, her deep voice cutting through the discussion like a blade. You exhaled sharply, though your composure remained unshaken. “Unnecessary. We hold the advantage already.” She turned her gaze fully on you now, the flickering torchlight illuminating the sharp angles of her face, the slight smirk on her lips betraying her amusement. “You’d have us waste time and resources prolonging a battle that could end in days?” “No,” you answered, your tone cool. “I’d have us win without needless destruction. Precision is our strength, Medarda. A pyrrhic victory is no victory at all.” The room went silent. Tension coiled between you like a drawn bowstring. Ambessa leaned forward, placing both hands against the table, muscles flexing beneath her armor. “You fight like a scholar, not a warrior.” You tilted your head slightly, unfazed. “And you fight like a hammer, not a tactician.”

Her smirk widened, eyes darkening with something dangerous. Interest? Challenge? You weren’t sure. The other commanders exchanged wary glances. They had seen men crumble under Ambessa’s presence before. But you? You sat still, poised and unaffected, a perfect contrast to the fire she exuded. “You believe in war without fire,” she mused. “I wonder how long you’d last in the flames.” You met her gaze with a quiet intensity, your voice a blade cloaked in ice. “Try me.” And for the first time in a long time, Ambessa Medarda laughed. A deep, knowing chuckle that sent a shiver through the gathered warriors. This war was not yet over. And neither was the battle between you and the Lioness of Noxus. The meeting had long since ended, yet the echoes of your dispute with Ambessa still burned in your mind. You strode through the darkened halls of the fortress, the weight of strategy pressing against your thoughts. But there was another weight—one heavier, more demanding—that followed you. The door to Ambessa’s quarters loomed ahead, flanked by guards who stiffened at your approach. Without breaking stride, you pushed past them, your boots striking hard against the stone floor as you entered. Ambessa stood by the hearth, one hand resting on her hip, the firelight licking at the edges of her armor. She didn’t turn as the door shut behind you. “Bold,” she mused, voice deep with amusement. “But I expected nothing less from you.” “You are reckless,” you stated, stepping forward, your tone sharp and unyielding. “Do you even consider the cost of your conquests?” At that, she turned, eyes glinting with something primal. “I consider victory,” she countered, stepping toward you with slow, measured strides. “I consider strength.” Your jaw tightened. “Strength without control is destruction.” “And control without fire is stagnation,” she shot back, stopping just inches from you. The air between you was charged, her presence radiating heat that clashed against the ice in your veins. For a long moment, silence stretched between you, each waiting for the other to yield. But neither of you would. Not yet. Then, her lips curled into a smirk. “You argue with such conviction. I wonder—do you fight as fiercely as you speak?” You lifted your chin, voice as cold as the Noxian winter. “Only when necessary.” Ambessa hummed, tilting her head slightly. “Then perhaps I should see for myself.” The challenge hung heavy in the air, and you knew—this battle was far from over.

The space between you vanished in an instant. Her hand gripped your jaw, rough yet deliberate, forcing your gaze to hold hers. Fire burned in her eyes, a silent challenge issued in the heat of the moment. Before words could intervene, your lips crashed together in a fierce, claiming kiss. It was not soft, nor hesitant. It was war. Armor was unfastened, discarded piece by piece, each removal an unspoken surrender met with another advance. The firelight flickered, casting deep shadows across heated skin, the contrast between your cool resolve and her relentless passion only fueling the storm between you. She backed you against the stone wall, the chilled surface a stark contrast to the molten heat of her mouth against your throat. Your fingers dug into her shoulders, nails scraping against muscle as she pressed against you, strength overwhelming but not unwelcome. Every touch was a contest, every gasp a declaration of battle. She was relentless, pushing, taking, demanding, and yet you met her force with calculated precision, answering her ferocity with controlled intent. The tension that had crackled between you for months, the unspoken battles fought with glances and words, now spilled over in unrestrained desire. Fire and ice clashed, neither yielding yet both consumed in the inferno they had ignited.

She pushed, you pushed back. Teeth grazed, nails dug into flesh, neither of you willing to yield. When she pressed you against the wall, her hands gripping your wrists above your head, you yanked free, twisting her arm just enough to reverse the roles, pinning her instead. Her breath came hot against your skin, a slow, taunting chuckle escaping her lips. “Is that all?” she murmured, her voice thick with challenge. Your answer came in the form of your lips crashing against hers again, swallowing her words before they could fully form. She retaliated in kind, hands threading into your hair, yanking you closer, refusing to let you set the pace. Every move she made was met with calculated counterforce—when she pushed, you pulled; when she took, you took back. Every inch of revealed skin was a new battlefield, every breathless gasp a momentary victory before the war continued. She lifted you, forcing your back against the cold stone again, her knee parting your legs with practiced ease. But you wouldn’t let her win so easily. You twisted, rolling her beneath you, straddling her waist, pinning her hands to the bed now instead of the wall. A low growl rumbled in her throat, but her smirk never wavered. “I see,” she mused, voice husky. “The Ice of Noxus does know how to burn.” You leaned down, lips brushing the shell of her ear, huffing before biting on it. “And you know how to freeze.” The night was long, the battle unrelenting. Dominance was traded like a weapon, each of you testing, taking, yielding only when it served to heighten the war. And when the fire finally settled, the echoes of your conquest still lingered in the dim candlelight.

By the time the storm settled, the battle waged between sheets instead of steel, you lay beside her, breath uneven, skin alight with the remnants of war. She turned her head, golden eyes glinting in the dim light, a smirk tugging at her lips. “You fight well,” she murmured, voice husky. You exhaled, the ghost of a smirk playing on your own lips. “I always do.”

The following morning, the field was alive with the sound of steel and the march of disciplined boots. Warriors stood in formation, clad in dark armor bearing the sigils of their legions. The air was thick with the scent of iron and anticipation as banners of Noxus waved under the pale morning sun. You stood at the head of your elite force, each soldier a hardened veteran trained in precise, calculated warfare. Their discipline was absolute, their loyalty unwavering. They were an extension of your will, your strategy made manifest. Across from you, Ambessa led her own warriors, a force known for their sheer power and relentless brutality. They stood as fierce as their commander, a stark contrast to your own legion’s quiet control. Your eyes met Ambessa’s from across the ranks. The embers of your argument from the night before still smoldered beneath the surface, but there was something else—a silent acknowledgment, a respect forged in conflict. She inclined her head slightly, a smirk barely visible beneath the morning light. You gave nothing in return, your gaze unreadable, your posture rigid with authority. Then, with the signal given, the march toward the enemy camps began. Side by side yet divided, fire and ice rode into battle once more.

A/N: And, that's a wrap! I guess? I think? I don't know, let me know what you think though. As for any updates I might do, or works I can publish, I have no schedule as I have my college semester up my ass. I only really write when I have the chance to :"))

Again, thanks for reading!

[voreternity]

no lube, no protection, all night, all day, from the kitchen floor to the toilet seat, from the dining table to the bedroom, from the bathroom sink to the shower, from the front porch to the balcony, vertically, horizontally, quadratic, exponential, logarithmic, while I gasp for air, scream and see the light, missionary, cowgirl, reverse cowgirl, doggy, backwards, sideways, upside down, on the floor, in the bed, on the couch, on a chair, being carried against the wall, outside, in a train, on a plane, in the car, on a motorcycle, the the bed of a truck, on a trampoline, in a bounce house, in the pool, bent over, in the basement, against the window, have the most toe curling, back arching, leg shaking, dick throbbing, fist clenching, ear ringing, mouth drooling, ass clenching, nose sniffling, eye watering, eye rolling, hip thrusting, earthquaking, sheet gripping, knuckles cracking, jaw dropping, hair pulling, teeth jitterbug, mind blogging, soul snatching, overstimulating, vile, sloppy,moan inducing, heart wrenching, spine tingling, back breaking, atrocious,gushy, creamy, beastly, lip biting, gravity defying, nail biting, sweaty, feet kicking, mind blowing, body shivering, orgasmic, bone breaking, world ending, black hole creating, universe destroying, devious, scrumptious, amazing, delightful, delectable, unbelievable, body numbing, bark worthy, can't walk, head nodding, soul evaporating, volcano erupting, sweat rolling, voice cracking, trembling, sheets soaked, hair drenched, flabbergasting, lip locking, skin peeling, eyelash removing, eye widening, pussy popping, nail scratching, back cuts, spectacular, brain cell desolving, hair ripping, show stopping, magnificent, unique, extraordinary, slendid, phenomenal, mouth foaming, heavenly, awakening, devils tango ever bro could cause a nuclear bomb inside me and I'd still ride.

[voreternity]

Vengeance (ft. Ambessa Medarda)

Important note: I don't write for Ambessa Medarda yet, but I WILL open the request slots and start writing fics for her soon.

~ @zthebean27 reblogged my initial post of Vengeance saying they need one like that with Ambessa, and reblogs help writers. Since you helped me, I'll help you <3

The air was thick with the scent of iron.

Your blood soaked into the silk sheets, a deep crimson stain spreading across the once-pristine fabric.

Your breaths were shallow, each one dragging fire through your lungs. You had managed to kill the assassin—his body lay crumpled on the floor, neck twisted at an unnatural angle. But not before his blade had found you.

Pain throbbed in your side, sharp and relentless, the warmth of your own life pooling beneath you.

The world swayed, the edges of your vision blurring, dark spots creeping in like shadows waiting to claim you.

The heavy stomp of boots echoed down the marble hall. Controlled. Powerful. Unhurried.

You knew that sound. "Ambessa..." You whispered the name, but your voice died before it could issue from your lips.

The doors to the private quarters were flung open with a force that made the walls tremble.

Ambessa Medarda stood in the doorway, framed by the flickering torchlight, her golden eyes burning with something dangerous. She took in the scene—the ruined bed, the dead assassin, the blood. Your blood.

Ambessa's blood ran cold.

For the first time, you saw something flicker across her face. It was gone in an instant, buried beneath years of discipline and war-forged control, but you had seen it. A crack in the unshakable foundation.

She crossed the room in three strides. The scent of steel and spice clung to her, familiar and grounding.

A gloved hand seized your chin, tilting your face up. Her thumb brushed over your cheek—soft, just for a second—before she dropped to her knees beside the bed.

"Who?" Her voice was low, dangerous.

You forced a smirk, though it felt weak. "Didn't stop to ask." You managed to gesture at the tangles of what you left of the assassin.

She huffed a breath through her nose, unimpressed. But there was something in the way her fingers flexed against your skin, like she was restraining herself from gripping too hard.

Her gaze dropped to the wound in your side. Without a word, she tore off her gloves, hands moving with practiced efficiency as she pressed down on the injury.

White-hot agony lanced through you, and you gasped, fingers curling into the sheets.

"Stay awake." A command. No room for argument.

Her grip was firm, steady, keeping pressure on the wound as she reached for the dagger at her belt.

With a swift motion, she sliced a strip of cloth from your ruined nightwear, winding it tightly around your waist. It was rough, brutal, but effective.

"Get me more later." You whispered with a small breathy giggle. "It was my favourite set." You pouted a little despite the searing pain.

"You should have been more careful."

A reprimand, but there was an edge to it—one that wasn’t entirely anger.

Your lips curled into a faint, pained smirk. "You almost sound worried."

Her jaw clenched. "You're my wife." The words were clipped, precise. Like stating an undeniable fact. "No one touches what is mine."

Ambessa lifted you effortlessly into her arms, holding you against her broad chest as if you were something fragile—something worth protecting.

Her heart beat steady beneath your ear, strong and unwavering. And for the first time since the attack, you felt safe.

Ambessa carried you like you weighed nothing, her grip unyielding but careful, as if the very idea of dropping you was inconceivable.

Her body radiated warmth, a grounding presence amid the pain and blood loss clouding your mind. You could hear the sharp commands she barked to the guards as she strode through the Medarda estate.

“Lock down the premises. Find any other threats. If they breathe wrong, kill them.”

Her voice was steel, but the way she clutched you was something else entirely.

By the time she reached the estate’s private medical wing, exhaustion threatened to pull you under. The moment she laid you down, her big hands hesitated—just for a fraction of a second—before pulling away. The loss of her warmth sent a shiver through you.

The medics swarmed in, but Ambessa didn’t leave your side.

She hovered, arms crossed, jaw tight, watching every movement with the lethal focus of a warrior on the battlefield.

When the lead doctor hesitated, she snapped, "If you let her die, I will personally ensure you regret it."

The pressure of bandages, the sharp sting of antiseptic—it all blurred together. But through it all, Ambessa was there, her presence an unshakable force.

By the time the medics finished, the pain had dulled into a bearable throb. The room had emptied, leaving only you and her.

You forced your eyes open, searching for her in the dim light. She was sitting at your bedside, elbows resting on her knees, her head bowed slightly.

The usual ironclad mask she wore had cracked, just enough for you to see what lay beneath.

Concern.

Relief.

Love.

When she realized you were watching her, she exhaled slowly and leaned forward, her fingers brushing against your cheek.

It was the softest touch you had ever felt from her—warm, steady, reverent.

"You scared me," she admitted, voice barely above a whisper.

You blinked, caught off guard. Ambessa Medarda didn’t admit weakness.

Your lips twitched into a weak grin. "You? Scared? The great warlord of Noxus?"

Her hand shifted, trailing down to cup the side of your neck, thumb brushing gently over your pulse. "I would burn the world to the ground for you."

The weight of those words settled between you, heavier than any blade, sharper than any wound.

"You’re not losing me that easily," you murmured, tilting your head into her touch.

She huffed, something like amusement flickering in her golden eyes.

"Good. Because if you had died, I would’ve had to drag you back just to scold you for being reckless."

You chuckled, wincing slightly, and she immediately pressed a kiss to your forehead—a rare, intimate gesture that sent warmth spreading through your chest.

"Rest, love" she murmured, fingers threading through your hair.

"I’ll be here when you wake."

[voreternity]

I'm almost through with Ambessa's book. Here are a few facts about her that I picked up:

...sleeps naked

...pefers coffee to tea

...thinks Mel's gold tattoos are beautiful

...loves the sea

...knows how to sail a ship

...had flagship called the Golden Dancer and Silver Mwatis

(the ships were gifted by her grandfather)

...can ride a horse

...has a fear of being forgotten

...does get jealous

...had an arranged marriage, but still really loves her husband

...at terrible shot with a bow

...not a good cook

...is closer to Kino than Mel

...distracts herself from feeling her emotions (with more work and/or logic)

...will drink beer, but prefers wine

[voreternity]

Colored one of my studies of ambessa in that training outfit

[voreternity]

Hello! I love reading your posts, I always come in to see if you've posted anything new. ❤

I've been thinking..

Mel Medarda secretly being.. a little obsessed with Reader's butt.. I saw a story about Vi being a girl who likes Reader's ass, and I would love to have a story about Mel who likes Reader's butt 😭

(If you don't feel comfortable, obviously don't write about it, and I apologize if my English is not good, English is not my first language)

♡♥︎ A Little Obsession♥︎♡

Warnings: light humor, Mel being a bit obsessed (in a cute way), slightly suggestive content.

Mel Medarda had always been a woman of control. A leader, a strategist, a mastermind behind the most subtle of moves. Nothing in her life had ever felt out of her hands—until you came into the picture.

From the moment she met you, there was something about the way you carried yourself. The way you spoke, the way you moved. But it wasn’t just the way you captivated everyone with your presence. No, it was something else. Something that Mel had never quite expected to latch onto her attention as it did.

Your ass.

She wasn’t ashamed to admit it. It was hard not to notice when you walked into the room, the way your hips swayed with every step. Your figure, elegant and powerful at the same time, seemed to leave a trail of heat wherever you went.

It was subtle at first, almost an afterthought. But as time went on, it became harder for her to look anywhere else when you were around. Her eyes would wander, drawn to the curve of your hips, the way your clothes hugged your form just right. And it wasn’t just the physical. No, it was how it made her feel—how it made her need.

Mel tried to be discreet about it, of course. She prided herself on being a woman of subtlety, but you knew her better than anyone. You had started to catch on. And one evening, as you two were alone in her private quarters, she knew it was only a matter of time before you’d confront her about it.

It was a simple evening. You were sitting sideways on the couch, Mel beside you, her fingers lightly tracing patterns on the back of your hand. The room was quiet, the soft glow of the candlelight casting shadows on the walls. But you weren’t focused on the peacefulness of the moment. No, you could feel the weight of her gaze on you, and not just on your face this time.

You turned to look at her, catching her eyes quickly flicker away.

“Mel,” you began, your voice light but teasing. “Is there something you want to tell me?”

She raised an eyebrow, feigning innocence. “What do you mean?”

You leaned back a little, crossing your arms and letting the smallest of smiles slip onto your lips. “You’ve been staring at my ass for the last fifteen minutes. I think it’s time we have a talk about it.”

For a moment, Mel froze. She stared at you, completely caught off guard. She opened her mouth, but the words didn’t come immediately. Then, she took a deep breath, the corner of her lips curling into a half-smile.

“You caught me,” she admitted softly, her voice almost like a confession. “I do… enjoy looking at you.”

Your grin widened, and you scooted closer, brushing a strand of hair from her face. “Is that all? Just enjoying the view?”

Mel’s gaze dipped, as though she couldn’t help herself. Her eyes trailed down to where the fabric of your clothes stretched over your hips, and she bit her lip. “It’s not just that,” she murmured, her voice low, laced with something you couldn’t quite place. “It’s… more than that.”

You leaned in closer, her breath hitching slightly as you cupped her cheek with one hand. “More, huh?” you teased, your thumb tracing along the edge of her jawline. “Like what?”

She swallowed, her eyes flicking up to meet yours, something a little darker in her expression now. “It’s the way you move. How you walk… how your body just… flows.”

You tilted your head slightly, catching the quiet admission, and the playful spark in your eyes flickered into something deeper. You hadn’t known that Mel was so… affected by you. The realization made your pulse quicken, and you shifted, pressing a little closer.

“I see,” you said, voice laced with humor. “So it’s not just the view, then. You like what it does to you, huh?”

Mel’s face warmed a little, but she didn’t pull away. Instead, she closed the distance between you two, her breath hot against your skin. “I think it’s safe to say I have an… appreciation for it,” she whispered, her hands sliding to rest on your hips.

Your lips twitched into a smirk, your fingertips tracing along the side of her neck. “An appreciation?”

She nodded, her hands gently gripping your waist. With a slow, deliberate motion, Mel slid one hand lower, just below your waist, her fingers brushing against the curve of your hips before she gently gripped your ass. You couldn’t help but laugh, the sound light and airy as you glanced down at her hand.

“You really like it, don’t you?” you teased, wiggling a little in her grasp.

She looked up at you, her expression softening. “More than you know,” she admitted, her eyes darkening with desire. “It’s hard to focus on anything else when I’m with you.”

The sudden honesty in her voice caught you off guard, and for a moment, you just stared at her. There was something endearing about how vulnerable she was being, even if it was just about something like this.

“You’re cute when you’re embarrassed,” you teased, running your hands along her arms.

Mel’s lips quirked into a grin. “I’m not embarrassed. Just… captivated.”

You leaned in, pressing a slow, teasing kiss to her lips, a whisper of affection. Her grip tightened on your body as she kissed you back, deeper, with a quiet hunger. You could feel her desire building, but she held back, the restraint only adding to the intensity.

When she finally pulled away, her breath coming fast, her hands didn’t move from your waist. She looked at you with a small, almost shy smile. “You’re driving me insane”

You laughed, brushing a hand through her hair. “I don’t mind.”

Mel seemed to calm down, the tension in her shoulders easing, and she smiled up at you, her thumb brushing over your cheek. “I guess this is just one of the things I love about you.”

“Just one?” you asked with a sly grin.

She chuckled softly, her eyes sparkling with affection. “Oh, there’s plenty more. But we have all the time in the world to explore that.”

You chuckled, leaning in for another kiss, this one slower, more tender, as you both melted into the moment.

Even if Mel had a little obsession with your ass, you could live with it. It was just another thing that made her fall for you more each day.

And, truth be told, you kind of liked it too.

[voreternity]

right. the fact that ambessa isn’t in my bed right now, railing me into oblivion. hate crime.

[voreternity]

look at how big she is compared to cait oh my god i need her to throw me around or smth im gonna cry

[voreternity]

[voreternity]

Anyways

Spread forth my children and use these sporadically