#romulan x reader

[crowfootwrites]

This song goes out to all my Vreenak lovers. 🎤

Kinktober Masterlist

Taglist: @horta-in-charge [because it's Vreenak, I'm also tagging @deepspacedukat, @starrynightgardens, @sleepycat82, @bigblissandlove1, @vreenak]

Day 25: Impact Play/Spanking - Vreenak x Fem!Reader

Warnings: NSFW, 18+ only, por favor; spanking; paddles | Words: ~405 | Song: Horns - Bryce Fox

The crack of his palm on your ass rang across the spacious room, your cry following it like an echo. You rocked on your hands and knees a bit, the sting flaring over your skin for a moment before Vreenak’s palm came to rest where he’d made impact, gently massaging his handiwork. There was sure to be a red handprint flowering on your ass. 

When you’d come from your family home in Gav'ros Trel to Ki Baratan to serve as Vreenak’s secretary, you’d hardly imagined that this would be part of your duties. But the Senator seemed to take a liking to your sharp wit and no-bullshit attitude; you challenged him, and if there’s one thing you’d learned about him, it was that he liked a challenge. 

From his place kneeling behind you, Vreenak’s free hand traced up your spine before clasping around your throat. 

“I know you can be louder than that,” he murmured, his hard lok pressing against the cleft of your ass as he leaned slightly over you. A flood of arousal crested at your core, more evidence of Vreenak’s handiwork dripping between your thighs.

“Surely,” you replied, trying to sound confident, but your voice was hoarse from the evening’s activities. “But what would your neighbors think?”

“I couldn’t care less what they think,” Vreenak responded. He chuckled darkly. “But I’d imagine they think I’m taking very good care of you.” He punctuated his words with a squeeze to the sides of your neck and you couldn’t help the moan that tumbled from between your lips.

It was cut short, though, and transformed into a wail as Vreenak’s palm came down on the other side of your ass. Your arms shook with the effort of holding yourself up and, if not for fear of punishment, you would certainly have collapsed onto the bed. You’d been at this for a while, after all. And Vreenak was just getting warmed up. 

You almost tipped over as Vreenak suddenly rose from the bed, stepping languidly over to an armoire in the corner of the room. As he opened the mirrored door, you glimpsed the object of his search: a beautiful and slightly intimidating paddle carved from the wood of a tree that had stood on Vreenak’s property for almost a century. He picked it up almost reverently, tapping it hard against his palm as he stalked back toward you, the snap sending a shiver down your spine.

[crowfootwrites]

Eaha’le

I got the idea for the first part of this fic, the interaction between reader and Senator Cretak, and it rooted itself so deeply in my brain that I could literally hear it in her voice (specifically Megan Cole's Cretak, who I am deeply in love with 😅). Anyway, here's another entry for the December Prompt List by @creativepromptsforwriting. Tagging the folks I knew usually love that good Romulan shit! @deepspacedukat @bigblissandlove1 @sleepycat82 @starrynightgardens @horta-in-charge

Eaha'le translates to "sweetness" in Rihan.

December 8: Sweets (Senator Kimara Cretak x GN!Reader)

Warnings: none; pure fucking fluff; not beta'd we die like men. | Words: ~620

“And, what did you say this was called again?” Kimara asked as she sat, slightly wide-eyed, at your mother’s kitchen table, the few brown crumbs dusting her lips begging you to kiss them off.

You laughed and wiped your floured hands on the towel slung over your shoulder before taking a seat across from her, the Christmas platter of shaped cookies resting between you.

“Gingerbread,” you reminded her.

“It is… spicy,” she murmured, reaching for another Human man-shaped cookie. “But also sweet.” She studied it intently before gingerly taking a bite.

She nodded thoughtfully. “This is excellent,” she mumbled around the cookie in her mouth.

More of your laughter bubbled over – while you never imagined you’d refer to a Romulan partner as “adorable”, Kimara’s curiosity was endearing and it made her all the more lovely to you.

You knew, of course, about the Senator’s penchant for sweets. In the time you’d known her, she’d never passed up an opportunity to try a new confection. She’d actually introduced you to jumja sticks after you’d arrived on Deep Space 9.

But being back in your family home on Earth for Christmas meant introducing Kimara to scads of novel, handmade Terran desserts – so far, there’d been some hits and some misses. She wasn’t a fan of sweet potato pie, which you’d lamented dramatically, or peanut butter fudge. But she’d eaten enough lemon bars to make herself sick and was “delighted” by the lightness of your profiteroles. Gingerbread, it would seem, was another hit.

“I’m glad you like it,” you offered. “It’s a pretty traditional Christmas dessert, around here anyway.”

A loud clinking carried across the kitchen as your mother entered, carrying a tilting stack of ceramic casserole dishes. She swore loudly as she caught her hip on the corner of the counter and dumped the pile of pans on the countertop in annoyance.

“I’m fixin’ to make my famous banana puddin’, Kimmy,” she divulged, leaning against the counter with one hand on her hip. You snorted lightly at your mother’s diminutive nickname for your dignified, Senate office-holding partner. Kimara glanced between you and your mother, her eyes still wide.

“Bananas are a sweet, custardy kind of fruit – and in banana pudding, you slice up bananas and layer them with cream and crispy vanilla cookies,” you filled in.

“And mine’s the best,” your mother added, fluffing her hair a bit. “Won the blue ribbon at the holiday bake-off for the last three years.”

“That sounds like an exceptional accomplishment,” Kimara replied earnestly, and you reached for her hand over the table to give it a squeeze. Her kindness never ceased to amaze you – it was unexpected from someone who’d previously described the Romulans’ “well-earned” arrogance to you.

“I look forward to trying it,” she added with a respectful incline of her head.

“Oh, you’re too sweet, Kimmy.” Your mother flushed and began making a racket as she shuffled her dishes around and started setting out ingredients.

A timer sounded from beside the oven and you ruefully pulled yourself from your Senator’s grasp to pull your thumbprint cookies out of the oven. Navigating around your mother’s chaos in the kitchen, you set your cookies to cool and poured a cup of tea each for you and Kimara. As you turned toward the table, you spotted her finishing her third gingerbread cookie and chided her softly.

“You’ll make yourself sick again,” you warned around a grin, setting the cups on the table and seating yourself beside your partner. 

This time you couldn’t help it, leaning in to kiss away the specks of gingerbread clinging to her soft lips, your eyes fluttering closed as she kissed you back, spice and sparks crackling to life between you.