#the senate never tasted so good

[sweaters-and-vertigo]

i wish the zillo beast just ate palps when it was on coruscant

[princesssmars]

i'd love just about anyone, so why was it you?

a victoria neuman x reader

your talent for singing is finally starting to take you places in the city of lights. so why did it have to introduce you to a woman who might ruin it all?

wc : 10.248

contains : fxf relationship. readers hair and skin aren't described. fluff. angst.nsfw including sex and language. the french. barely proof-read.

a/n : i cant believe there are no fics for this fine ass woman yet but i am nothing but a pioneer idk. in my daydreams this was like mafia au victoria but i literally never write or dream of those so i opted out lmao. go watch gen v. everyone always talks about how good the cover is but nonante-cinq by angele is a beautiful album so i recommend listening to that for french vibes. enjoy <3

it was the most stereotypical and overplayed song ever, but damn did you love la vie en rose.

just the concept of the song was romantic to you. to live every day like it would be magnificent, like you could know a day would be your last and look back at it and not regret a single thing. it meant looking at the world with a positivity that these days was mostly faked or artificial.

after the life you've lived, the things you've seen firsthand, you need that positive light in your life more than anything else. especially right now, as your manager is hounding you over the phone about your next gig.

now you loved your manager, nancy, you really did. she took you in and was honest when no one else would be, stood by you when no one else wanted to give you a real chance. but sometimes it felt like she didn't really believe in you. obviously, she believed you had talent, or else she would have 'left you in the dust for the rats to pick apart,' in her own words. it was almost like she couldn't fathom that what you had was real, like you didn't truly deserve all the things that were coming to you.

but as long as you were paying her, she didn't bother to speak up on it.

you were listening to her drone on and on into the speaker from your phone, holding the object up to your ear with one hand as you hold a menu to order something from the cafe waitress who's waiting beside you.

"ill have an uhhhh... le marie antoinette, and a coffee with sugar and cream please," you hand the menu to the waitress after she writes down your order, heading back into the cafe with a smile. this cafe was one of your favorites, nestled below an apartment building in one of the inner city arrondissements so you could sit outside beneath an umbrella and admire the city before you. "nancy, i don't see why i can't just...politely turn it down? it sounds like it's a glorified pin-up girl gig, le bellevilloise is offering for me to sing there exclusively for three months-"

"no, that's what im trying to tell you if you'd let me finish." you can hear nancy's telltale sigh through the phone. she had a short temper when she was stressed, something you sadly had in common, and you could hear her clicking a pen through the receiver. "this is an international gala slash fundraiser, attended by the one percent of the one percent. billionaires, senators, diplomats, everything. the event organizer asked for you specifically, so turning it down is a bad look. aka, you're doing it. go out and get a pretty dress. ill send you more details later."

the phone shut off and you let out a huff of air, crossing your right leg over your left beneath the table. once you have your meal and bite into your pastry you can't help but close your eyes at how good it tastes; the combination of the crunch of the macarons, the near-overwhelming sweetness of the cream, and the savory juice that leaks from the raspberries never gets old.

you don't know how you feel about this whole gala thing. sure its a great way to make connections and earn a fat stack of cash that will probably last you few weeks, but you've learned before that the people that you most admire, celebrities, politicians, even superheroes, can't be trusted. and being in a room full of them to perform wasn't at the top of your christmas wish list.

but like everyone else in the world, you were finding money hard to pass up on. just by the lowball nancy told you, you'd be able to comfortably pay the next month's rent and fix up your electric scooter, maybe even enough to save up for that beautiful flat you saw online with the grand windows and nice floor plan.

it'd only be a few hours of singing and kissing up to a bunch of snobs and you'd be done. easy peasy.

finding a dress wasn't to hard. your modeling connections from before you started to focus on singing gave you access to a few, good quality clearance pieces for your picking. you figure that the people you were performing for would prefer something classy and elegant, so you picked out a sleeveless black dress with black opera gloves, accessorized by a diamond necklace and earrings. one of your stylist friends, alex, who you asked to help do up your hair told you 'you're definitely gonna shag a rich man looking like this, just ask them if they have any friends for me!' and after a quick 'please don't wish that upon me' and a spritz of perfume you were ready.

the hours before you got on stage were nothing short of both nerve-racking but exhilarating. you rode in a standard taxi, your slight jitters noticed by the slightly balding man in the front. he eyes you pretty oddly when you got in the car before using you if you were a model, telling you that his daughter would like an autograph if you were. you felt slightly flustered when you had to tell him you weren't, but gave him some tips to tell his daughter if she wanted to pursue it. after around twenty minutes of driving through the city the car stops and you're escorted by a crew member into a grand building, those types you pass by and dream of getting the chance just to step into.

after that its a rush of meeting the event planner who gives you another run down of the evening and then meeting with the band members, a nice group of jazz players who you had heard about on the news for their blends of old and new methods of performing music. they played you a piece on their instruments in their dressing room, and it felt like hanging out with old friends listening to tunes as one twirled you around and the others laughed and the air felt warm and fuzzy.

later its time for your set, where you'll sing as the guests come in and take occasional breaks to save your breath and let whoever is hosting this talk. so you get up on your mini stage, make sure you look alright and you're in tune with the band, and then you do what you do best.

you've never felt better than how you do while you sing. every time you do so you tell a story, tales of success and tragedy and love and heartache. while you sing your favorite thing to do is to admire the crowd. when you were younger it gave you horrible stage fright, but as you grew up and saw just how much people loved your voice it made you confident, if not the tiniest bit narcissistic.

as you look out at the guests of tonight you see what's expected. important and powerful men donned in suits, their wives standing on their arms in glamourous gowns, you swear that you even see some fairly famous celebs in the mix, and they were all listening intently to you and your voice.

and that's when you saw her. near the back of the room with a glass of red wine in her hand, dark hair flowing over her shoulders, and darker eyes trained on you. in this profession you get used to people staring at you for hours on end, but something about this woman unnerves you slightly.

a short while later your set is over and after a round of applause the organizer tells you to enjoy yourselves, and that you're free to indulge in whatever food is left. after a brief touch-up in the dressing room and making sure you look presentable, you head out to get yourself something to eat. you keep getting stopped by people telling you how beautiful your performance was, how they'd love to get in contact with your agent to book you for future events, and your regular dose of creepy old guys hitting on you. but besides that things were going pretty well.

some servers were waking around with trays of champagne, but you figured since everything was complimentary you would treat yourself to something stronger. you head to the bar and order yourself a strong cocktail, and as soon as you finish your order a figure sits on the stool next to yours.

"get me a scotch on the rocks, thanks."

you glance at them from the corner of your eye and feel your heart beat faster when you see

it's the woman from before. from this close distance, you can admire her entirely, and god is she gorgeous. she looks so put together, not a hair out of place, and wearing a perfectly tailored suit that makes you guess she's some kind of wealthy businesswoman.

after not so secretly checking her out, she turns her body towards you and looks at you with a smile.

"im sure you already know, but you have an enchanting voice."

you look down bashfully, thinking the same about her. she speaks like she's so sure of what she's saying like there's no room for debate or argument.

"thank you. no matter if i know or not, it doesn't take much to make me a little nervous every time i perform."

the bartender brings over both of your drinks and she tilts hers to you.

"trust me, theres no need. you're nothing but a natural, one of the best singers i've ever heard."

"ah, now you're exaggerating. is there a reason you're complimenting me like you're being paid to do so?"

she shakes her head, setting down her glass of liquor with a clink. "not anything nefarious, if that's what you're thinking. just glad i get to talk to a beautifully talented woman."

jeez, she was laying it on thick. normally this was coming from some fifty-year-old man with greasy skin and weird teeth, but it felt nice coming from her. she was obviously gorgeous, leaving her body language open in case you wanted to decline and she would walk away in a moment's notice.

"im glad i get to talk to you too, miss?"

"victoria. its a pleasure to talk to you, miss y/n."

for around an hour or two the both of you sat at that bar, blocking out the fake laughs of investors and boisterous noises of people who got a little too friendly with the free champagne. she was so attentive to you. asking about what got you into singing and what brought you to paris by your non-native accent. you normally kept the finer details of your past a close-guarded secret, but you figured there couldn't come any harm from telling this attractive stranger a few things about yourself before never seeing her again.

"you're telling me at only sixteen years old, you flew to paris by yourself and made a living for yourself? you've got balls on you, sister."

"yeah yeah, but im nothing special. i just got tired of all the bullshit in the u.s., y'know? the greed, the cynicism, the-"

"superhero bullshit?"

you giggled while she smirked, observing your smile and how it made your eyes squinch.

"well i wouldn't put it like that but...superheros? really? its just, they make it so american, in a really really annoying way. i just couldn't deal with that being a reality. and where better than paris? it seems like voughts all but forgotten about it recently, thank god.”

"i understand. and i know we just met, but it does suit you. 'beautiful runaway finds passion, life, and love in the city of lights'. best cliche there is."

"and what a damn good cliche it is to be. although i haven't been that lucky on the love front."

her eyebrow raises and her nail traces around the rim of her glass.

"im sorry but i simply cant believe that. someone like you would have people lining up for a chance to talk to you, let alone date you."

you dryly chuckle before taking another long swig of your glass of champagne, dancing just on the edge of being intoxicated. you understood why everyone else was drinking this, it was sweet but strong.

"people have tried, of course. but sadly most of my escapades end in tragedy. very melodramatically. but enough about me, I'm guessing this isn't gonna go my way and you have someone waiting for you at home?"

"im offended you still think so low of me. but no, there was someone but it didn't work out. now its just me and my daughter."

god, she was a milf. if there was a god you prayed he would let you get lucky tonight.

"well, im sorry to hear it didnt work out."

"are you really?"

she looks at you with a smirk on her face.

"no, im not."

that was all she needed to ask you to come back with her to her hotel.

and not just any hotel, she was rich enough to be spending two weeks in the damn ritz. asking again what she did for a living didn't get you very far, the only hint you got being that it helped her change the world. ominous but whatever. it had to be legitimate if she was invited to that gala.

the cautious and common sense side of you is snuffed out for the night the moment she set her hand over the covered skin of your thigh in the car, the feeling of her hand on your lower back leading you through the pristine lobby of the hotel, that same hand helping you take off your dress and take you apart slowly over the rest of the night.

when you wake up the sun is peeking through the curtains, the softness of the sheets your laying on calling you back to sleep before you get up and look around.

you only got a few seconds to admire the room last night before victoria was on you, and now in the light of day you could truly take everything in. you find a note left by the woman, letting you know she had to leave temporarily for an important job thing and that she'd be back my lunch, inviting you to call up room service and enjoy the room intil then.

you were expecting for her to tell you to pack your shit up and go, so despite the oddness this was a nice surprise. besides, there was no way you were gonna pass up on ordering a five-star breakfast you didnt have to pay for.

after indulging in a meal brought by room service and finding ways to pass the time, you text your manager after she happily lets you know that your night was a success and that your payment should be cleared shortly. while you're in the middle of wondering if you should answer her query about the host wondering where you wandered off to last night, the sound of a door opening makes your head jerk towards the small entry area, victoria coming in through the doorway dressed in a tan suit and carrying a large black briefcase on her arm.

"ah, youre still here!,” she sets her bag on a glass table near the door and strides into the room, eyes connected with yours the whole time. you weren’t feeling nervous before, but under her gaze you wonder if maybe you should have taken that free meal along with some tiny soaps from the bathroom and headed back home.

“yeah, figured i’d stick around for whatever. besides, i had to stay and blame you for my manager thinking i got kidnapped.”

“i’ll make sure to apologize and send her an edible arrangement. besides, i hope to take up more of your time in the future.”

your eyes bulge so hard you’re sure you look like a moron. you cover it up by getting up to get yourself another cup of coffe from the tray the food came in on.

“well i should’ve guessed this was more than a one night stand when you allowed me to order up breakfast. but now i have to admit i’m slightly scared you’re actually plotting to traffick me.”

"trust me, that wouldn't be good for business. id just like to see you some more, if that would be alright with you.

was that an actual question? after the night you had and the way she’s been treating you, you didn’t see much of a choice except to say yes.

she tells you that a few hours later she has a flight back to america, but that she wouldn't mind spending the day with you if you're free. you agree to get a little bite to eat and it turns into a whirlwind day of showing her around the city you call your home. she has to wear giant sunglasses the whole time and have a mysterious security detail not too far behind, but you wouldn't change anything about it.

at the end of it all, she bids you goodbye in front of your taxi, admiring the cute outfit she bought for you so you wouldn't have to go home in your dress from the night prior, promising that she'll keep in touch with you once she gets settled in back a new york, jokingly telling you she'll send you a postcard. as you sit in the back of the taxi, your heart inflates a little as you take in the events of the last day. you never liked to mix business with pleasure in this way, partly because most of those business people were gross perverts and also that it could damage your career beyond repair, but with victoria you can't help but think that it was worth it.

eventually, a few days pass by, and the only calls you've gotten are from friends congratulating on what they heard was another great performance. and as nice as all the praise and the new gigs you started to get felt, the longer you heard no word back from victoria, it started to eat away at you inside.

back at your favorite cafe you sit with two of your oldest friends, jamie and chloe, as they ramble about the details of their changing lives and jobs. you don't know when you zoned out but eventually, chloe's manicured finger lightly pokes at your cheek, giggling when you make a playful motion to bite it.

"where'd you go just now? take me with you before jamie keeps talking about his new lover."

"hey!" jamie pouts, "you're just jealous because i've been regularly having passionate sex allll night long while you're still vying over your boss." you hear a shocked gasp behind him and you all turn to see an elderly couple looking at jamie like he's said the most blasphemous thing they've ever heard.

"really classy, james." you snort.

"what the hell! you're supposed to be on my side! everyone has noticed how you've been in a better mood since that gala. alex told us how they checked up on you afterwise and you showed up a day later with a new outfit and a hickey on your neck."

"that is- god, that’s so intrusive and so like them,” you rolled your eyes. you knew as soon as alex saw you that morning that they’d be gossiping to everyone about the state they saw you in. “and i don’t kiss and tell like that. at least not in public like this.”

“ok, so we’ll stop by your place tonight with some wine and talk all about it tonight. agree?”

“what? no-”

“agree!” chloe beams and shakes hands with jamie across the table, blowing you kisses before leaving her share of the bill on the table and leaving with some excuse of having to be somewhere. you glare at jamie as a warning before he gives you a kiss on the cheek and does the same. you grumble before biting into your muffin.

a few hours later you’re sitting on your soft sofa with jamie’s head in your lap and chloe on the other side, talking and laughing about old stories from your jobs. you take a sip of merlot right before jamie brings up what you were hoping they’d forgotten about by now.

“ok ok, enough chatter. seriously, chlo, you cackle like a seagull. y/n, when are you going to tell us about this mystery lover of yours? do you need another glass of wine to start talking?”

“don’t even think about pouring me another glass. look, there’s not much to say, ok? i was singing, she was staring at me from across the bar, we flirted a little, that was it!”

they stared.

“you want more?”

“how could we not? we haven’t seen you like this with anyone! not since we took you on that tourist tour on the seine!”

that…that took you for a spin. you remembered it clear as day, them tugging you along when they’d heard since you came to paris you’d been focusing on building up your image and working. it was more a joke, but the lights of the boat, the sky and the lights made you feel like you were in the most perfect moment of your life. hearing them compare that to how you looked now had a nervous feeling building in your gut.

“we spent the night together. and it was…good. really good. she let me stay while she went out, bought me a new outfit then said she’d be in touch.”

your friends are silent. way too silent. you’re afraid they’re about to laugh and judge you before they’re squealing and tackling you, pulling back when you groan after you almost spill your wine on your clothes.

"god, why are you always the lucky one? this isn't fair! at all!" chloe groans while dramatically resting her head on your shoulder, jamie still giggling as the wine clearly starts to take an effect on him. "please, please tell us what happens next before i scream."

"no thats- i mean, thats it. so far. for now." you stutter along your words as your friends' faces go blank yet again, except this time without a hint of a chuckle or smile.

"what the hell do you mean 'that's it.'? she ghosted you?" jamie gasps.

"no, she didnt ghost me-"

"sweetheart, im sorry to say this but you have been ghosted. in a really dickhead way."

"its not like that! she's a busy person with a serious job and a kid and responsibilities!"

you briefly hear chloe snicker "milf?" before you roll your eyes.

"she's gonna contact me. and even if she doesn't, maybe it was just a nice one-time thing! everyone knows I'm great at those."

jamie snickers before chloe smacks his shoulder in a second.

"why? why did you laugh?"

they share a look before she smacks his shoulder again.

"would you stop? i have pains, you know this. but y/n, we know you. we love you. but your latest stints haven't been...the most successful. or left you in the best headspaces."

"he's right, honey. remember the last girl, hannah? one of the worst situationships i've ever seen. you told us you would be alright when she broke it off and then we found you at that lousy bar at eleven in the morning..."

you start biting at your lip. there was nothing you hated more than when they told you the truth about how you could act. it wasn't your fault that all the time your relationships got messy, or that you got attached a little quickly. people didn't understand but a life like yours could be lonely. standing up on a stage and performing for people who want you to do just that and only that: sing and look like a glamourous pin-up doll. most of the time its the other performers who even bother to ask if your throat is alright after singing for hours.

so yes, sometimes you rushed into relationships. and you might have done it again in the dumbest way possible.

"i just...she let me stay after, y'know? and she came back and brought me with her again. why go through that effort just to leave me behind like trash?" your friends pouted before closing in to comfort you, rubbing your back and giving you small affirmations.

for a month you go into a rut. unless it's performing or going to the dentist for a checkup you don't leave your house. you become pretty good acquaintances with the grocery delivery boy, benny, who started panicking when he realized he forgot one of your items until you assured him it was fine. it wasn't the first time you'd grown so oddly attached to a romantic prospect, and it wasn't the first time you'd gotten hurt by it. you spend your time moping on your couch and binge-watching your favorite show for the third time when your phone buzzes from beside you.

nancy schmancy : call me.

you rolled your eyes. she could have just called you in the first place, but no. she had to be extra about it. you press the call button and don't have to wait even five seconds for her voice to ring in your ear.

"do you want to know what mister barbier just emailed me?"

"i think you already have that answer for me."

"he said, and i quote, 'tell y/n i send my best wishes. her performance last night was hauntingly beautiful, and i'm hoping it was one of her greatest acts yet.'"

"if you ask me, it sounds like i did a pretty good job."

"it sounds like he thought you were singing your damn suicide note!" she groaned, and you could hear her face scrunching from over the phone. "i don't know what is going on with you recently, and i don't want to sound insensitive, but if you can't manage to keep your work and personal life separate, even i can't help you make it far in this business. clients may say they want you to be expressive but they only mean so far. unhappy music means unhappy customers, capeche?"

"i understand, nancy. ill send a personal apology to mister barbier."

"good. ill call you soon to let you know about any new gigs. take care of yourself. seriously."

the line clicks and you toss your phone onto the couch and take another sip of sauvignon blanc from your rose-shaped wine glass. it pained you to admit it, but nancy had a point. if you kept letting yourself mope in your feelings you'd run out of people who wanted you to sing, and if the point came where you were out of gigs...you didn't even want to think about it. if you weren't singing you weren't living.

only a few hours after that call you manage to get back to normal. you go out and get your own groceries, deciding to indulge yourself and buy the ingredients for some recipe you saw online months ago. one of your clients cries at your performance, ecstatically telling you they'll be in talks with your manager to set up a stable contract. things really start to look up. two weeks later you even manage to get the number of a cute girl, elise, a tall woman with dyed hair who reached for the same vintage music box as you at an open market.

you're smiling as you look down at the messy ink on a slip of paper, the numbers and tiny smily face distracting you as you enter the hallway to your apartment. so distracted that you nearly trip over a object on the floor, looking down to see...a bouquet?

a really gorgeous bouquet you notice as you bend over to pick it up. its a collage of dusty blues and off-colored ivories, and when you brought it closer to your nose for a whiff you felt a sense of bliss. you bring it into your apartment with a skip in your step before you spot a piece of paper among the flowers, plucking it from the collection and reading it over.

upon closer inspection, you can see its a postcard, the cover a flattering shot of the statue of liberty with text that reads "love from new york city!". you try to calm your heart down at the location and the 'love' part, but you've already gotten your hopes up when you turn the card around to read the message:

xxx-xxx-xxxx

sorry for the wait. i'll make it up to you, angel.

you'd never felt so conflicted as you did in the past five seconds. half of you was vindicated that yes, this attractive woman didnt leave you high and dry and did actually have a deeper interest in you, but the other part was angry. and embarrassed that you were angry, because again, you spent less than a day with this woman, she didn't owe you anything. but also yes the hell she did.

before you could get yourself together you were harshly tapping the number into your cell, biting at your lip as the phone slowly rings.

"y/n, is that you?" echoes from the line, victorias voice sounding and running over your head like soft silk. no, no, stop it. focus.

"howd you know it was me? im sure you have other people who'd be calling you this late."

"certainly not anyone with a phone number from paris. besides, i was hoping it'd be you."

"well, i would have been flattered two weeks ago but unfortunately i dont think your words could phase me right now."

she sighs and the line goes silent. you feel bad for being catty for a few seconds before you brush it off. she's the one who played with your emotions and promised to call you but never did. she had this coming.

"im sorry, really i am. i've been busy with things at work and my daughter-"

damn it, she pulled the kid card again.

"i just...dont like being lied to. or led on. maybe its my fault for beeing too clingy-"

"no, no. dont apologize. if it means anything youve been on my mind for weeks now."

"yeah, same here. except my thoughts havent been all that nice." you laugh.

"deserved. and id like to make it up to you."

"oh yeah? let me guess, this time we'll spend two nights together?"

"close. how about two weeks. in new york."

you don't know if you should laugh. you feel like you should, so you do. but she isn't.

"you...you're being serious."

"im being serious."

what do you even say? what do you even do? of course, whatever higher power there is would make your life stable and steady for the past few months then throw this in to shake you up. you really should have been expecting it, considering...

you shake yourself back to the present. victoria is still waiting on the other line, unwilling to rush you into a decision, apparently. you'd applaud her for her chivalry if you weren't so stunned.

"victoria, come on. we've only met once, and while it was nice it was brief. now you want me to upend my life and career to jet off to america? it sounds crazy."

"you make me a bit crazy, honestly. besides, you were telling me in bed you haven't been in the states since you left, i have a feeling you miss it more than you let on."

you shuffle in your spot, reminded that you're standing in your cold-ass kitchen and you haven't changed out of the outfit you wore out today. but half of your uncomfortableness is from a feeling gnawing at your chest because she's right. at this point you can barely remember the night you left your childhood home, but you know it was rushed. you wanted to forget everything.

"i think you're also forgetting that i have a blossoming career here. are you gonna pay my definitely going to be pissed off manager her wages? plus i was supposed to be first pick for this really good gig-"

"i'll pay for everything, i promise. dont forget that i have connections. in two weeks they''ll be singing you praises across the globe."

you close your eyes and take in a breath.

"can you make my ticket first class?"

-

one thing you didnt miss about america? just how...much everything was, all the time.

your flight was quiet. victoria didnt hesitate to book you an expensive ticket, almost taking offense to your request for a nice one and scheduling you for business class, sending you a text to get lots of rest in the ultra-luxe beds on the plane. it was probably one of the best nights sleeps you'd had in months.

when you got off the plane there were two tall escorts holding a sign with your last name on it, taking the suitcases from your hands before you could say anything and leading you into a sleek black car. a voice in the back of your head starts screaming but you ignore it. for now.

the men in the car give you some basic rundowns, how they'll constantly be hovering over you during your stay for your "protection", and that they'll be taking you to settle into a hotel until victoria makes contact, and the little voice starts freaking out again and telling you that you've slept with and are fraternizing with a mob boss. at least it's more exciting than your last few flings.

the car goes silent after that, and you put in your earbuds as you watch the city go by. you weren't from new york, but you loved watching movies set in the bustling cityscape. the buildings really are humongous, and you see so many different types of people it sets your brain on a whirlwind.

you look back down at your phone after the fifth 'the seven' advertisement in one block.

yet again you're led into a clearly extremely expensive hotel, breezing through reception before you are led to a luxuriant hotel room, the bodyguards ignoring you as you giggle and flop onto the bed, waving them off when they tell you they'll be posted outside.

the sheets feel heavenly on your skin, and with the soft sunshine from the window beaming down on you and the gentle hustle and bustle of new york outside, you think you could fall asleep in a minute. but, begrudgingly, you peel yourself form the bed and open your suitcase to start putting your clothes away before taking a quick shower in the giant bathtub.

just as you exit the shower and wrap your body in a towel, your phone starts ringing and as soon as you read the 'v' in the contact name you push answer and bring it to your ear.

"hello? vic?"

"hey, hon. eager to talk to me?"

"you called me. and 'hon'? really? we've moved to petnames already?"

"figured id start making up for those weeks with no contact. and id like to do so again tonight. i wanna bring you somewhere."

your mouth quirks up in a smile as you re-adjust the towel around your body, the phone nearly slipping from its quick placement between your phone and ear, "id really like that. i hope its out to dinner, i didnt care to eat any of the plane food."

“yes, it’s to dinner. but its up to you if you want it to be fancy or casual. i know its tacky but there’s this pretty cute french place near where i live...”

“that vaguely sounds like an invitation to your place, but ill let it slide. are you gonna pick me up or are your special agents going to escort me everywhere for the next few weeks?”

“special agents? what agents?”

a bead of water drips from your neck down your back and it feels like the tip of a knife. a pressure builds in the back of your throat and your fingers grip the fabric of your towel. “what…that’s a joke, right?”

her laughter rings in your ear and you are seconds away from hanging up the call.

“sorry, sorry. i sometimes have a weird sense of humor. you'll get used to it.”

“i doubt it.”

“and i'm hopeful. i'll let you go so you can get ready, i'll be by in under an hour.”

you hang up after a sweet goodbye and gently sit on the toilet. your brain is rushing to catch up after the conversation like your body goes on autopilot when you hear victoria's voice. its terrifying and its thrilling. and you don't know why a part of you likes the feeling.

after you brush your teeth, do some quick skincare, debate over shaving just in case, and spend twenty minutes picking out a cute outfit, you finally hear the gentle knocking on the door while you're double-checking over the content of your purse.

rushing to open the door, you're greeted with the sight of a smiling victoria, her hands tucked into the pants of her clearly expensive pinstriped pantsuit. you're admiring the look of her hair tucked back into a ponytail when she's reaching forward and pressing a soft kiss to your cheek.

"you look perfect. come on, i made us a reservation."

and it turned out to be a perfect night. she did end up taking you to the french place, allowing you to order whatever you wanted. that place was weirdly empty, only a handful of other patrons inside. you were pleased to see that the waitress was french herself, having a small chat about the customs and foods she missed while she praised the authenticity of the food at the restaurant.

only a day and you had already forgotten how forward the people back home could be, because the waitress throws a subtle look at victoria and compliments you on finding such an attractive woman. when she leaves vic just smiles.

“ok, id say at this point we’re doing pretty good with the communication thing, right?” you ask, taking a sip of the pricey wine your date ordered.

“yeah, id say that.”

you finger the rim of your glass, the nerves getting to you before you ask your question. "i want you to tell me what your job is. your actual job, not some vague ass title. you have security following gus around, so i feel like i should know."

"no, no, you're right. i just didnt wanna scare you off. or have you think differently of me once i told you." she sighs, thumbing the napkins on the table. "i work in the government. i'm a congresswoman, to be exact."

you don't doubt she's a politician for a second, because she shows no hint of nervousness at your lack of emotion.

"are you...a good congresswoman?"

"i don't really know how to answer that." she laughs.

"i'm sorry. i knew you were important enough to be at that gala, but a politician is...tricky."

she reaches across the table and lays her hand palm up, smiling when you rest yours on top of it. "look, i get it. i should have told you sooner but please understand why i didn't. i wanted to get to know you as normally as possible, without all of the press and politics in the way."

"normally as possible, huh? that includes sleeping together on the first night?"

you're trying to show your acceptance of the situation with your humor, but you can tell victoria can sense your uneasiness at the situation. here you were thinking you had found some under-the-radar millionaire to dote on you and instead, you'd roped in someone whose job was entirely in the public eye that could be put in danger at the flip of a switch.

"how about we finish up and take this back to my place? i'll tell you everything that you wanna know about me. no matter how personal."

you stare into her eyes for a few seconds and decide that she looks genuine, getting confirmation that her daughter is staying with a friend before ending your meal and following her to her place.

for the amount of money she's ready to spend on you, you're surprised to see that victoria lives in a chic but quaint townhome only a twenty-minute walk from the restaurant. she gently takes off your coat and instructs you to sit with her on the couch, pressing on a remote to turn on her fireplace.

after a few hours and two more glasses of wine, victoria had opened up to you about nearly everything in her life. the mysterious death of her birth family, being adopted by a man who helped pushed her to go into a political career, her polite but loveless marriage with her ex. she even shows you a picture of zoe that she has in her wallet, taking the chance to gush over her daughter. she seems like such a sweet girl.

maybe it's the wine or maybe it's the way vic is opening up to you so freely, but you decide to tell her more about your past. how you always wondered why you barely stuggled moving to another continent at such a young age, or the fact that you dont even remeber why you had the drive to leave your parents home in the first place. you didnt even remember the last words you said to each other.

and throughout it all she's nothing if not attentive, she doesnt ask questions unless you give her permission too, keeping her eyes on you and gently placing her hand over yours.

you feel a turning in your stomach when she moves a stray hand of hair behind your ear. you told yourself to try taking things slow this time, but your body is starting to feel fuzzy and shes looking at you like she wants to devour you.

she decides to indulge you and gently brushes her lips against yours, smiling at the way your breath staggers. your head moves forwards to finaly get her to kiss you but she jerks her head back.

"i want you to tell me what to do."

god, your stomach feels hot. this is new, but a really arousing style of new. the last time you both slept together she had taken a careful but unwavering charge, unraveling you with a steady hand a sweet smile.

"cmon just...please?"

"no. tell me what you want me to do."

you sigh and bite at your lip. "i want you to lay me down and fuck me. right now."

so she laid you down and she did. there were no words to describe how much you enjoyed that night on her couch, the way she could read your body like a book and brought you to ecstasy again and again and again...

and when you wake up a soft blanket is draped over your body, a brekfast of coffee and some crepes set in front of you.

the days after are a whirlwind. discreetly as possible victoria takes you on a tour of new york city, to more expensive restaurants and hidden jewels that most tourists skipped over.

youre lounging in your hotel room when you decide to inform your friends of how your trip is going. while slightly hesitant they seemed more than happy that you were enjoying yourself with someone who took a genuine interest in you.

until you told them her job.

"my love, are you insane? a politician?"

"an american politician?" chloe gasps, continuing off of jamies shock.

"hey, im american too dont forget!"

"of course you are, but please, you understand why this is not good, no?"

"you know how fishy they are, especially with all the supe business going on. that place is getting more dangerous by the day, and i dont think you should be seeing someone whos contirbuting to that."

it pained you to admit it but jamie had a point. the three of you would always laugh in amused horror at how badly things were going on in your birth country, and the politics...it was less than pleasant.

not to mention the supe business. every corner of the world had to deal with the annoyance that was vought and their "products", even france. but so far you'd just had to deal with a few perverted looks from traveling supers and talks of some stupid theme park a few miles out of the city. meanwhile, it seemed like every day a new superhero was being introduced to the American public. it unnerved you.

"i understand. i appreciate both of you looking out for me. trust me, i'll be on my guard for now on." you mumble, picking at the material of your sleeve.

"of course, songbird. we'll call again soon."

the call ends and drop your phone on the nightstand. you look at the eiffel tower cutout in your phone case and your heart aches.

the next morning you're eating a a breakfast of coffee and fruit crepes when your phone rings, dragging your atttention away from the trashy dating show you were watching on the bedroom's tv. when you see nancy's name you hesitantly answer the call.

"nance? is everything alright?"

"everything is great. i'm just here to check in about your next gig."

"my next- nance, im on vacation. please tell you didnt forget and booked me for a job when im across the ocean."

"no, im not that stupid, hon." she sighs. "i didnt even arrange this job, victoria did. im just the messenger."

you blink once. then twice. you remember vic saying something about helping you with a job but you honestly just thought that was bullshit to get her to come stay with you.

(or get in your pants. but you don’t think you’d be too upset about that now.)

“ok. thank you, nancy. tell me the details.”

it’s a lot more extravagant than you expected. victorias friend, an actual senator, was holding a fundraising event for some government program he and vic were both involved in. nancy wasn’t told what the program was, but that you would have to go through a security debrief before being told you'd be given a team to help you prepare. and picking from a selected closet of dresses. fun.

you ignore the feeling of nervousness that’s building up in your gut. because while all of your gigs were important, they were never this important. you push it down as you call victoria and thank her endlessly, when you tell your friends the minimum amount that you can tell them, and when victoria picks you up from outside your hotel twelve hours before the event even starts.

she pressed a small kiss to your hand, laughing at the grumpy and tired mumble you let out when you sit in the car seat. it only passes once she gives you a coffee she picked up, the caffeine waking you up and putting a smile on your face.

the content feeling turns into shock when you enter victorias' place and see zoe, vic throwing a short explanation of “busy babysitter” over her shoulder as she heads into the kitchen.

its a bit awkward at first, sitting on one couch as she plays on a black nintendo switch on the other. it helps when you ask her about whatever she’s playing, the girl diving into a rant about the farm game she’s playing and how she’s trying to catch a certain type of fish.

victoria comes back with a tray of breakfast for the three of you before asking her daughter how school is going, how her friends are, etc. its nice to get a glimpse into victories private life during the morning, the close bond she has with her daughter. you notice some tension but decide not to bring it up.

the morning goes by too quickly, zoe being picked up to be dropped off at a friend's house after giving you a sweet goodbye and you getting rushed upstairs as the team comes to the townhome to help you prepare. its a nice change, having other people doll you up instead of having to worry about trying to do everything correctly and by yourself. and its a perk you don't have to spend your own money to do it.

the team members are nice but punctual, finishing your hair and makeup in record time with not a second wasted. you barely get time to notice yourself in the mirror before you're ushered into a gorgeous gown, soft fabrics and a chic and elegant style.

when your finished you’re finally allowed to observe yourself while your transportation and is prepared, and it feels like you’re looking at a dream version of yourself.

as you admire yourself in the mirror vic comes up next to you, clearly enjoying herself as her eyes slowly drift up and down your body.

“you look…ethereal.” she whispers, pressing a small kiss to your cheek after you turn to smile at her.

“only because of you. i don’t know how i could ever make this up to you, vic. this is just…”

“trust me, you’ve already done enough.”

while you knew there would be some press at the event, you didn't expect over two dozen paparazzi to quickly start flashing their cameras in your direction as soon as you got out of your ride. questions about who you were wearing, the relationship you had with vic, etcetera etcetera. you would've buckled from the sudden pressure if it weren't for victoria’s steady hand on your waist, the press of her arm through her red pantsuit.

the venue is downright insane, so grand you start to wonder if you're in one of those gilded age mansions you used to read about in new york magazines. climbing pillars and art on the ceiling of the main hall, which you don't get to admire since you’re yet again whisked away to get ready.

after a few more touch ups you aren’t afforded a minute to prepare, guided to the edge of the performance area. the sinking feeling is back in your stomach. the biggest moment of your life and you feel like you’re going to be sick.

the lights dim and you glide onto the stage, able to see the shadows of the guests faces from the flickering table lights. it’s eerie, the amount of them staring up at you with eyes you can’t even see.

you were given a set list a few days prior, only a couple of songs for the payment you would apparently receive after this. the songs piqued your interest, a collection of classical melancholic pieces from around the fifties. vic told you her friend was a vintage nut, but you didn't know why he chose these for you to perform when the event seemed to have an uplifting aura.

either way it felt…different, singing this time. the spotlight was on you and you’ve never felt as beautiful as you did in this moment. everyone was watching you, so hooked on the melodies escaping your body that you could see the emotions brining some people to the edge of their seats.

you don’t let it show but you grow a bit anxious at the sight of supers in their uniforms in the crowd. you don’t see anyone from the seven, but you do notice a woman you recognized from some commercial about climate change and earth preservation, the green of her dress and the nature motifs in her outfit give you a clue as to what her power was.

just when you feel yourself about to slip, dangerously close to hitting a note at a weird pitch, you see victoria, getting deja vu at the sight of her staring at you from the bar like the first night you met. she's looking at you like she's never doubted you for a second, like you're an angel sent from above that's blessed her life.

you hold her gaze when you sing. noticing the soft smile on her face when you sing a lyric about how the feelings in your heart feel so intense you fear you're going insane.

when the first song ends the lights come back on and you're met with a polite yet thunderous applause, the smile on your face so wide your cheeks start to hurt. the presenter comes back on stage, praising your performance with a swipe at his eyes before telling the guests that the host would be on shortly, and after he gives a short speech you'd be back to sing some more. with a gentle nod and wave, you step off the stage.

you feel like you're walking on air, with no doubt that was one of your best performances yet. your emotions got a little intense there but nothing you couldn't manage, and everyone seemed to like it anyway.

you're able to send a quick text and a picture to jamie and chloe before you hear the sound of the door to your quaint dressing room open, not able to turn around before you feel hands around your waist and plush lips on the side of your neck, the sight of victoria wrapped around you in the mirror making butterflies swarm in your stomach.

"i take it you liked my singing?"

"like doesn't even begin to cover it," she mumbles into your neck, raising her head slightly to be able to hold eye contact through the mirror. "i'm so lucky i found you, y'know that?"

you playfully brush her off, telling her you have to freshen up for some mingling before you get back on stage. she gladly helps you with your makeup, and while you weren't expecting her to be so touchy tonight you definitely aren't complaining, especially when her hand starts to drift closer to the space between your legs. it takes an embarrassing amount of mental strength to deny her, promising you'll continue once you go back to her place.

once you're finished getting ready she leads you back out to the hall, introducing you to numerous business people, politicians, celebrities, etc. you try not to fangirl when you meet a singer whose songs you've been obsessed with lately and when she asks you to perform at her cousins wedding. victoria just smirks when she leads you away and you let out a tiny squeal under your breath.

once the networking is done you're able to take the time to sit down and eat some of the catered food, almost moaning at the tastes of the food. you sometimes forget just how good food could be in the states, and these rich people pulled out all the stops. you try not to eat too quickly or impolitely as victoria talks with her tablemates, some people from her job apparently. after the first introductions and praises they gave you you mentally tapped out of the situation. she luckily covers for you when they question your mood, laughing when she tells them you've had a long day of being treated like a singing barbie doll.

everyone in the room quiets down when the hos taakes the stage and starts his speech. he introduces himself as robert stendham, and you feel a little embarrassed that this man gave you the chance to sing here and you didn't even know his name. you're thinking about how odd it is that you weren't introduced before this when he mentions something about the program and you perk up.

"...extend a personal thank you to general jameson for finding the time to escape his duties to fly in and be here with us tonight, and a special thanks to director neuman for helping me with this project and finding the beautifully talented y/n to perform for us tonight."

there was a brief few seconds of applause, victoria looking around and giving out smiles while you wondered what the hell she was the director of.

"as you can see, we have a few supers with us tonight. people like hazelwood, whose efforts against climate change have lead to over a dozen organizations plating millions of trees and clearing millions of pounds of trash for the ocean. because that's what supers are supposed to do-protect us. not act like degenerates who get to do what they want because of their abilities."

your eyebrow twitches, sensing the slight anti-supe propaganda from the end of his speech. well, not anti every supe, just the ones who act like gods among men, which you could understand. but you still felt an uneasy feeling rising in your stomach. you feel vic's palm rest over the top of your hand under the table.

"which is why im incredibly honored that director and congresswoman neuman has extended a hand to me to invest in the federal bureau of superhuman affairs, and to further extend that hand to you to help participate in this monumental institution..."

everything is a fog and your brain taps out once he starts talking about what this burerua does, how they closely monitor supes and jail the ones who've caused public harm. your head feels hot and your chest feels cold, and you can't stop your body from going on auto-pilot and excusing yourself to the bathroom before finding some balcony on the higher floor.

the cold air of new york shocks your body back into normalcy, but the pounding in your head persists. it feels like a panic attack ut so much worse, like your fight or flight has been activated without anything even happening. had you rushed into all of this? chasing a girl and a dream like you were a teenager again?

yet again the door opens behind you and someone comes to stand next to you, able to tell who it is by the scent of brown sugar and the glimpse of dark hair blowing with the slight breeze.

"you alright? mr. brandon from the tech startup was asking about you, tried to make me invest in some room light plant grower hybrid-"

"why did you bring me here?"

you cut her off and the air is quiet, save for the sounds of cars and the city and the wind. it's weird, standing in a tense silence like this with her.

"how are you feeling?" she whispers .

"are you- " you turn, nearly giving yourself whiplash with the speed at which you turn to look at her. the look on her face, like she's just observing you and how you're reacting. it only upsets you more. "are you being serious?"

"yes, i am. tell me."

"no, answer my question first. why are you avoiding it?"

she sighs, brushing a few strands of hair away from her face before reaching to grab your hand, which you hesitantly let her hold.

"as you heard, im part of a buereau that monitors supherhumans, keeping track of them, making sure they cant use their powers for harm. so far we've only had to deal with supes here in the states. until one day, this couple comes in that believe their daughter has used her powers on them."

she reaches for something in her pocket and your grip tightens. she pulls out a polaroid and holds the picture up for you to see. you feel like you're going to vomit when you see you, smiling, standing with your parents in a backyard.

"what...what is this? how'd you get this?"

"the couple gave me this picture, and told me how weird the least few years have been. friends and family asking where their daughter went, how she was doing, a daughter they didnt even remeber having."

you bring a hand up to your head, hopelessly trying to dissipate the splitting headache that's forming.

"but then they said the memories started coming back. glimpses of a child running in the grass, birthday parties, graduations, talent shows-"

"stop, please just stop." you gasp, hunching over as good as you can with the restrictions of your gown. it doesn't even feel like the world is just spinning, it feels like its being played in some celestial game of pool. "so what, you're saying...you're saying i did that? to my parents?"

"yes," she reaches for the side of your face, guiding you to look up at her. "and you can do so much more. you already have."

this can't be happening.

"why do you think people react so emotionally to your singing? you think its just because you're amazing? that's not even half of it."

your breathing is picking up again.

flashes of memories start appearing in your vision. so many happy times with your parents that you forgot, friends that you left behind. how your parents didn't support your half-thought-out plan to become a singer, how you made them forget. made yourself forget.

"i don't want you to think i did all of this just for what i want. i didn't. i care about you, and i want you to help me. but you need to trust me."

the blood is rushing back and from your head, and you think about how weird her eyes look against the backdrop of the city before you pass out.

finally. FINALLY. ong i wrote like 1k in the past day because i said just get this shit over with but its done! 5 months later! hope you enjoyed :)

[ashthemadwriter-archived]

"Either I'm insane or you were just masturbating in our living room"

"Open your mouth for me baby"

"Do you know what happens when you misbehave?"

Fandom: Bungou Stray Dogs

Pairing: Fyodor X Fem!Reader

Request: "HIIII I'm here for your September event ! God, I hope it's not too late and you'll take my request (and I hope you're having a good day). So I'll like 17, 1 and 5 with Fyodor. If it is possible a Fyodor... Not very nice, you know, a little psycho. OK it's weird, I hope you will accept T-T Have à great day !!" ◜By dear @concombre-2-mer ◞

Genre: Smut

Format: Fic

Warnings: Explicit smut, Porn with a plot, Orgasm denial, Yandere themes, Toxic relationship, Mean dom!Fyodor, Sub!Reader, French!Reader(Just pretend that you're French if you aren't lol), Lovesick!Reader,Heavy degrading, Praising, Slapping, Choking, Spitting, Dacryphilia, Fingering, Vaginal penetration, Pet names(Dear, Darling, etc), Name calling(Slut, whore, etc), Dirty talk, MDNI, Dark content dead dove do not eat

Word Count: 4.4K (I KNOW)

A/n: Ahhhh this took so long I am very, very sorry. Also, I hope I reach your expectations lol.

Fyodor Dostoevsky, a complicated, brilliant, dangerous man, with so many plans in his head.

You met him at a ball where your dad, the most powerful senator of France, was the host, and he was one of the VIP guests. The second your eyes caught a glimpse of the raven-haired man, your heart missed a beat. It wasn't just about his looks- although you could never overlook how attractive he was. It was the way he calmly witnessed everything and talked in a nice but also careful manner, or perhaps how he smiled elegantly while looking at other people blabbering, like he knew all their intentions inside out- which you found out later that he actually did; nothing can escape this mans sharp eyes.

Whatever the reason was, he had you fascinated by him from the very beginning.

You made the not-so-wise decision to approach him and start a casual conversation, which only made you more curious about this mysterious, fetching man. Your discussion that was supposed to be a short chit-chat lasted for hours, but it couldn't be any other way. You had the same interest, the same likes, the same taste in literature; it was nice having someone who understood what you were talking about and didn't look at their clock every ten seconds as company; nice, and rare.

When the party was over and Fyodor walked you to your room as the gentleman he was, he couldn't miss the hints of lust in your eyes, and how you were looking at him so desirably, hoping he would step inside the bedroom and spend the night with you; but all you got was a kiss goodbye on your cheek and a formal farewell.

That night you couldn't sleep. Between all the tossing and turnings, you thought about the ball. How you found the perfect guy, spent the whole event with him while others were laughing and drinking at the buffet, and how you got rejected in the end. Maybe he was just playing with you after all; just to get information about your father and to take advantage of you, like everybody else had done. He was never interested in you in the first place.

You were wrong.

Not about the information part. He did got the information he wanted through his intellectual methods and you carelessly gave it all away; but for the first time in his life, Fyodor found himself curious about someone, for reasons that weren't involved with his work. He didn't care about your father and his political status anymore, he wanted to know about you; which explained why your phone was ringing with an unknown number showing up on the screen the day after the event.

He asked you to give him a tour around the city and to accept his invitation to a lovely dinner as a thank you gift, and you accepted without giving it a second thought.

Nothing happened that night either.

You were frustrated. Everything was going great, he even smiled at your funny remarks a few times- actually, he was smiling the whole time, examining your expressions with a vague look on his face. But the second you arrived at your home, he was gone again, rejecting your offer to come inside for "a cup of coffee".

Who was this man? Why did he kept doing this? He was not someone you could read his mind easily, you had no idea what was going on through his head; all you knew was that you'd only known this man for two days, and you're already obsessed with him.

Given how many times he had humiliated you, it was stupid to accept his offer for another date the day after again, but you weren't really thinking anymore.

Just like that, you kept going on small dates with each other every night, and he kept refusing to come inside each time; but you were happy that you got to spend time with him; you could always open yourself on your fingers pretending that they're his afterwards. You could see a future for yourself with this man, living in a fancy house together. He would read to you when your head is on his lap, take a bubble bath with you in the bathtub, you could even get yourself a cat. A baby would be nice too, if Fyodor would be down for that...

Little did you know, you were digging yourself into a bottomless hole, which you'll never be getting out of.

Fyodor had the same thoughts as you.

You were so sweet, so kind and lovely. He liked it that you were actually smart, but lost all your senses when it came to him. You were sweetly stupid and it made his heart clench every time he had to drag his feet out of your alley to head back to his empty, cold apartment alone, but it was all part of his plan, and the only key to it was patience, because he needed to make you desperate, to the point that you would kneel and accept everything he tells you to, not needing to be told twice.

And it happened. You found yourself to be at Fyodor's beck and call, agreeing to his every word without putting much thought to it; Even when he asked you to run away with him.

You were skeptic of course; not enough to reject his offer, but you needed to hear him saying it was ok, it was the right thing to do. And he did, assuring you that your parents would never let you come with him if you tell them beforehand, that it's the only option you've got left and you will eventually visit them after a while.

How could you refuse when he was the one asking?

You didn't hear anything from your parents until a few days later, when the tragic accident of fire that had devoured the home of the great senator and the occupants alive got all over the news.

You haven't seen Fyodor for over one week.

Months have passed since the "accident" and your so called "get away", but things have gotten worse, if even changed slightly. You've been kept in a small apartment ever since, and haven't caught a glimpse of the sun for so long, not even through the windows.

Fyodor said it's for your own good, that people who killed your family are after your blood and you need to stay somewhere he can protect you, but you're not sure if sealing the windows are really related to that. You don't have a key to the apartment, even to the rooms; Fyodor has set many ground rules of things you should and should not do, and it's frustrating.

Your patience knows limits, and it might already be at it.

You're lying in front of the TV, with a bowl of ice cream in your hand, looking at some romantic movie in your own language. You watch the people laughing, dancing, making love, but the only thing you feel is one single emotion.

Envy

You're envious of other people. How they go on fancy dates and end up fucking in a public bathroom, while you haven't even kissed Fyodor yet. You don't have the faintest idea why he asked you to come with him in the first place. That's what Fyodor does to you, always keeping you in the dark and only coming back when he decides it's the right time.

Him, not you. Your opinion does not matter one single bit.

Sighing, you turn the TV off and put the empty bowl on the table. You're already way too depressed, you don't need to see other people's happiness and regret about your own choices.

But that's the problem. You don't regret anything. You don't regret taking Fyodor's hand when he offered you a dance at that part, you don't regret spending time with him and having wet dreams about him at nights, you don't regret agreeing to come to this place;

you even know that he was the one who slaughtered your entire family, but you decide not to think about anything other than him because sometimes, ignorance is a bliss.

As you lean back to the couch, you wonder where your boyfriend- if you can even refer to him as that, is right now. What might he be doing? Is he planning another murder? Is he on a date with another poor woman to manipulate her, use her and then just throw her away like she's worth nothing? Is he holding her hand and whispering sweet promises about the future to her?

Ah, you just remembered.

His hands.

Fyodor has long, skinny hands and stretched, pale fingers. You admire the way his veins lay bare under his skin when he holds a coffee mug or writes a letter. His nails are always cut shortly, exhibiting his smooth skin and how he takes care of them. His hands are cold, not at a shivering state but cold enough for you to offer him your gloves, or just hold them to warm them up.

God, you can't wait to hold his hands again, and to feel them inside you once he finally gets around to it.

Sliding your hand in your pants, you close your eyes and imagine how his fingers would curl up and massage your sweet spot, dragging pleasure outside of your cunt. Will he be gentle, taking his time, making love to you? Or is he the kind to be rough and would make you scream his name by the end of the night? It's your call, since this is all an illusion and he isn't actually here.

Fyodor hates masturbation. He told you that once you brought the topic up on one of your dates. He thinks that it's pathetic, useless, and offending to a person's partner, But Fyodor isn't here; it's only you and your pitiable moans filling the room.

You whisper his name as you scissor yourself open on fingers that are actually supposed to be his, but unfortunately, they're attached to the pathetic body of yours. Tears find their way out of the corner of your closed eyes, staining your cheeks, and you wish he was here to wipe them off your face, plant a kiss on your forehead and say how well you're doing for him.

I miss you so much, Fedya…

You feel getting closer to your orgasm as your fingers speed up, but the sensation isn't nice, not as much as it would be when he's the one helping you out; yet this is all you're going to get for now, so you shouldn't complain and just take it.

With a cry out of his name, you come. Arousal covers your fingers and you have no choice but to clean them up with your mouth. Your whole body stings and you just lie there, panting and half way through crying. What would he do if he was here? Would he scold you? Punish you? Or say something like...

"What are you doing?"

Until a few minutes ago, you thought that when he comes back, you'll jump into his arms, kiss his face over and over while telling him how much you've missed him, and that he should bring you along with him everywhere he goes; but now that he's actually here, you just want this to be a mirage.

It isn't.

You desperately open your eyes and tilt your head toward the doorway, only to look at the tall man standing there through your blurry vision.

Fyodor is as handsome and terrifying as ever. There's a bouquet of roses in his hand, and he's wearing his usual outfit, an Ushanka and a black cloak. Everything looks the same as ever, except for the look on his face.

You expect him to be angry, to shoot daggers your way; but through the violet shades of his penetrating eyes, you find another emotion; one that intimidates you more than his anger and sends shiver down your spin.

Disappointment.

You stay silent and keep staring at his figure with widened eyes. Fyodor doesn't scold you. After a few seconds, he slowly walks toward you and places the roses on the table, standing next to the couch.

"May I take a seat?"

You want the ground to swallow you whole.

"S-sure, do as you wish"

He calmly makes himself comfortable on the couch, while you nervously curl yourself up against your side. Feeling like you need to explain yourself, you want to say that it's not what it looks like, but you know you would only tie yourself up in knots. Besides, it's exactly what it looks like, and Fyodor isn't stupid.

With an expressionless face, he points at the flowers on the table.

"These are for you"

Roses are your favorite type of flowers. Sitting there with your legs crossed and your arms wrapped around your shins, you sense his thoughtful gesture to be a slap in the face. Guilt and fear makes your heart ache yet you don't have the guts to start crying again.

You didn't want him to come back. Not like this.

"Ah, thank you..."

He couldn't have heard you since you mumbled so quietly, but he's got sharp ears. You look unsure when you stretch your arms out to pick the flowers up, but when you sniff them, your face brightens up with delight.

"They are lovely"

"So, care to tell me why you were calling out for me like that?"

He's not going to let it slide, is he?

"Nothing. Where have you been?"

"Answering my question with another one? I see"

While you struggle to breath, he takes his Ushanka off and places it between you, and all you do is watching him carefully for a reason you're unaware of yourself, but he probably is, since he's a mine of information and knows every twist and turn of your brain.

"To answer your question, I could say I was tying up a few loose ends. But fill me in, dear; was I hallucinating earlier? Because, either I'm insane or you were just masturbating in our living room"

You open your mouth to say something, anything, but words seem to have been erased from your mind and your tongue doesn't roll in your mouth as it did before. When he doesn't hear a response, he flashes you a pitying look and shakes his head.

"No comeback? You're not even denying it"

How long was he standing there anyway? Was he there from the beginning? Because god, if he was then you don't want to face him ever again.

"You know dear, I thought that we should wait until we were in a better place; but if you're so eager... I shouldn't keep you waiting for so long"

Ah, what?

When he catches you staring at him, like you're unable to believe your ears, he merely smirks; standing up and taking the direction to your bedroom.

"Aren't you coming, sweetheart?"

"I'm... coming..."

You don't have a clue of what is going on, still, you've waited for this moment from the year dot; you won't be letting it pass this easily.

As you enter the bedroom, the sight of Fyodor taking his cloak off catches your eye. He takes a peek at you from the corner of his eye, only to find you standing next to the wall awkwardly.

"What are you waiting for? Get undressed"

"...Ok"

Stripping out of your clothes, you feel slightly embarrassed when your whole body is exposed to him for the first time, and his eyes scanning you up and down are not exactly helping.

Fyodor pauses a little, like he wants to say something but he's not sure if he should; then looks you in the eye.

"Get on the bed"

You obediently listen to his demand and lie down on the bed, getting excited when he follows you to hover on top of you. He gently cup your cheek with his hand, and cracks a smile.

"I don't think I've ever told you how pretty your eyes are, Darling"

You blush at his sincere comment that gives you enough courage to wrap your arms around his neck and pull him down a little so that your lips are only inches apart. The idea of you initiating the kiss doesn't even cross your mind; Fyodor is the one in charge and he has to have control over everything. Thankfully, he's kind enough to not push you away this time, playing along by attaching his lips to yours, kissing you passionately. And you kiss him back with so much desire and longing, like you did every night before going to sleep in your imaginations. You won't be doing that anymore, now that you have the real thing.

Not only Fyodor doesn't stop you when he senses your hands on his body, trying to unbutton his shirt, he even helps you out with some of them. You smile into the kiss when you feel a certain "something" pressing against your core, which doesn't go unnoticed by him.

"You sure get cocky, But I don't blame you dear; you certainly taste nice"

"Mhm... Touch me more, Fedya"

The mans face breaks into a mischievous grin. He places his hand on your collarbone, lightly rubbing it with his thumb.

"You want me to touch you more, Darling? Where do you want me to touch you?"

His hand roams down on your body, until it reaches to your boobs, And cups one of them.

"Here? or..."

You let his limb wander on your body, thrill taking over you as you anticipate where its destination might be. A soft moan skips your lips when he finally cups your womanhood, fingers teasing your clit.

"Maybe here? Hmm?"

"Fedya…"

"Yes, honey?"

You look at him with plead through your dewy eyes.

"Stop teasing and just give it to me, ok? I've been waiting for so long..."

Fyodor briefly examines your face and his small slowly fades away. You feel shaken by his sudden change of mood, wondering if you said something wrong.

"I will; but, do you think you deserve to be touched? You looked like you were having so much fun with your own hands back then"

As his gaze pierce through your soul, you find yourself to be in dire straits. Despite the position you're currently in, you know you should rack your brain and say something acceptable, or else you won't see the light at the end of the tunnel, or even tomorrow anymore.

"I'm... Really sorry about that... I guess I was just under so much pressure, you looked like you weren't attracted to me and you were gone for a quite amount of time... But It won't happen again, You have my word. I really am sorry"

As you wait for him to react to your genuine confession, his stare becomes more gentle, a ghost of a smile appearing on his lips.

"I know you are Darling, I know you are"

His fingers lightly rub circles on your clit to make your mind go numb while he deeps his face in the place between the pillow and your ear, making you shiver every time his lips brush against your earlobe.

"Tell me y/n; which feels better? My hand or yours?"

You choke a moan out as his digits slide inside with the help of the arousal from your lewd activity earlier. They are longer than your fingers; longer, professional, and more importantly, they belong to him.

"Y-yours of course, Fedya"

"Good girl. That's what I thought"

Fyodor doesn't hurry anything. His moves are calculated, and with each shove, his fingertips hit just the right spot. As you whine and hold him closer, you think about something more exciting. When he can make you feel this good only using his fingers, god helps you when he unzips his pants and opens you up on his probably lengthy cock...

Which makes you brave enough to ask him, because if he fingers you for a little longer, you'll probably come and the chance to make him feel good will slip away from your hands.

"Fedya honey..."

"What is it, Love?"

"I need to feel you inside me"

His smile looks dazzling.

"Aren't I already inside you, dearest?"

"You know what I mean!"

Pulling his fingers out, you almost regret asking him to do so, but you try to comfort yourself since he's gonna stuff you with something better and you won't be feeling empty for long.

"Alright then; but first, open your mouth for me baby"

Deeming he probably wants to clean his digits up, you part your lips to help him out, but instead of fingers, he leans closer and abruptly spits in your mouth. You're stunned, but you still swallow it down your throat under the proud look in his eyes.

"So perfect for me, Myshka. Now, lie down and relax. Let me handle things from this point"

As if he wasn't already.

You can't believe your eyes when he uncovers his member from his pants. It's not the thickest cock, but the length is definitely quite something.

Fyodor smirks as he catches you staring. He adjusts himself on your entrance and casts an eye on your expression.

"Does my darling like what she sees?"

"Yeah..."

"I bet you'll like it more when I'm fucking your cunt"

Yeah, no shit.

With a bright groan, he pushes himself into your hole. Your pussy is slick enough to devour his dick, but also tight enough to send pleasure his way. He has a breather before thrusting in and out you, find the steady rhythm and the perfect place to hit inside, making your eyes roll at the back of your head.

While Fyodor does everything, holds you in place, sucks hickeys on your neck and rubs your right nipple with his fingers, all you do is whine, hug him tightly and hover your legs over his back. You would've felt disturbed by how cold his body was; but you don't feel troubled, not even the slightest bit. There is no way you would feel like that when he makes you feel so warm inside. Its not just about fucking- it's about him, coming back to you, to understand the pain you went through, and make the most memorable night as a reunion. In this cold bed, you find your body and your heart getting warmed up by this Russian man's love and affection.

Fyodor fastens his pace at plunging in your pussy, meanwhile his tongue rolls around on the sensitive spot on your neck. It's unbelievable how he knows your body like the back of his hand while this is the first time he gets to lay a hand on you. You don't know whether to moan at his cock pounding inside your tight cunt, or at how he doesn't stop marking you up as his belonging.

"A-ah... Fedya… I'm getting close..."

"I can feel it, love. C'mon darling, Come for me. Show me how much you like it when I make love to you"

His praises send you over the edge. You feel so close, this unholy feeling is so addictive and you never wanna let go. Your body is firing up, you start shaking and you're only a little away from your release; which you'll surely get there soon, with Fyodor whispering sweet things in your ear.

"You're doing so good, Milaya…"

"So pretty for me, sweetness"

"Come for me, baby"

"Come for me, beautiful"

"Come for me"

"Come for me"

"Come for me"

You are literally on the verge of breaking apart on his cock, one second away from releasing all over him and make a mess out of his lower abdomen. You close your eyes and ready to feel the orgasm wash over your stress and sorrow and make you complete again; but in a split second, you feel a tremendous amount of pain, due to the sudden emptiness of your hole.

You feel miserable when Fyodor's length leaves your orgasm undone, and when you open your eyes to know the reason, you're met with the emotion you were searching for not so long ago.

There's the anger and daggers he was saving from your stare, to let them appear at the right time.

Now.

"Do you think you deserve to come, y/n?"

All the warmth you were feeling a while ago, all the heat and certainty was gone; now it's only fear and pain, germinating in your heart, making your chest ache.

His look is dangerous. It's not just anger. It's everything. Fury, disappointment, disgust. For the first time since you met Fyodor, you feel so scared, to your fingertips.

His grip around your throat snaps you back into reality.

"I'm talking to you, slut. Do you think you deserve to come? After what you were doing on my couch, shamelessly touching yourself like some common whore?"

You don't say anything. You can't. You can't even breath. You can't even if he let's go of your throat. You just want to die.

"Ungrateful little bitch. You're so full of yourself. So needy and pathetic. It grosses me out. What do you want me to do? To treat you like the princess you are? To turn a blind eye to your scandalous behavior and make your every wish come true? You think you're still in your daddy's house?"

"N- no- no- I- no-"

His hand finally let's go of your throat, but just as you're about to gasp for breath, his palm lands on your cheek.

"Don't talk back to me. I didn't give you permission to talk yet"

You only stare at him with disbelief, unaware of the tears that have been falling from your eyes from the moment his attitude changed.

It was never about you.

Never about affirming you.

Never about comforting you.

From the very first moment Fyodor set foot in the house, he came to torture you.

"Do you know what happens when you misbehave, precious?"

He knew what you were doing. He has always known.

And yet, you love him with every inch of your soul. With every breath coming out of your lungs.

"Worthless woman. I should throw you out in the streets, where you belong to. You'll die eventually, if some guy doesn't rip your throat apart. Is that what you want, woman? You want freedom? Help yourself! Get out of my sight and never come back again"

"No! I'm sorry! I won't ever do that again! I promise- !- Please! Please- I swear- Please believe me, Fedya!"

Another slap, landing on your other cheek.

"Don't say my name with that filthy, disgusting mouth of yours. Know your place"

You don't say anything anymore. As he keeps stabbing you with heartbreaking words, you only sob and bite your bottom lip so that your whimpers wouldn't interrupt him.

Fyodor looks at your pathetic state, and clicks his tongue. He gets up and picks his clothes from the ground, shooting a warning glare at you.

"Now, I want to see you try to masturbate again"

And with that, he leaves you in the bed, shattered into pieces.

It will never be about you,

And you hate yourself for not hating this, until the day you die.

All rights reserved © 2023 AshTheMadWriter. Please do not copy, repost, translate, or modify my works on any platform.

[emberfrostlovesloki]

Baby Fever [Emily x Reader]

Photo Credits Left and Right (@meditando-en-paris) Center (@emily12o1970)

Prompt: The reader asks Emily if she wants to have a baby together. While this is a surprise, Emily has a little question of her own for the reader.

Pairing: [established relationship] Emily x Non-BAU!reader. The Reader uses she/her pronouns 

Category: fluff/comfort

Word Count: 6.8K

Content Warnings: Slight angst, talk of getting pregnant, food and alcohol are mentioned, implied intimacy, discussion of politics. If I missed any, please let me know.  

A/N: Hi all! I’m so sorry it’s been a while since I’ve posted any fics in a while. The end of the semester has been wildly busy. However, I return with an Emily fic for @imagining-in-the-margins March and April writing challenge. I made my own prompt that is, a member of the couple isn’t sure they’ll make a good parent; they are reassured by a friend that they will be perfect. This is a continuation of my Moschino and Muddy Water series. You can find parts one, two, three, and four here (linked) You can read this as a stand-alone as well, you just need to know the reader works for a senator. This story kind of humbled me and challenged me as it took a long time to write and I needed to do lots of edits on it. But that is a good reminder for me. Writing can be hard, but it is worth the result to see you can come what you can come up with. If you enjoy this fic, likes, comments, and reblogs are appreciated! Love Levi - ❤️

List with all stories 

y/n = your name 

y/s/t = your skin tone 

_y/f/s_ = your favorite scent

Emily walked into the living room of her apartment. y/n and she had recently repainted it a neutral beige that Derek had described as “sad sand” at brunch with Penelope, Spencer, JJ, and Will last month. y/n had nearly choked on her drink as he made the remark. It had been y/n’s idea to repaint their space to a more relaxing color. When y/n had suggested it, Emily had said, “Oh, what brought this on lover? Wasn’t it you last week who mentioned the security deposit on this place?” Em liked teasing y/n about these things because y/n was always a little more impulsive about things. Their dynamic remained light despite the hectic nature of their jobs. The ability to relax and joke in their off time kept both y/n and Prentiss sane. However, they were good at reading each other, most of the time. When things felt heavy or the job was pushing them to the edge of a breakdown, the jokes and teasing went out the window. 

Only once had y/n made a joke in poor taste about a case that Emily had not yet fully described, and the tall brunette had snapped. y/n had looked at her girlfriend with shock. Prentiss never spoke to her in this tone nor with the angry expression she had on her face. The silence in the room after Emily's outburst was deafening. Emily instantly felt guilty for how she had reacted. Prentiss cleared her throat and tried to apologize, but y/n said, “Save it. I need a minute.” y/n had moved back to their room and closed the door, and burst into tears. ‘A minute’ turned out to be a long sleepless night for the couple. y/n tossed and turned and wondered if she was overreacting and what she had missed about Emily when she came in with her go-bag. She had seemed fine to y/n as she came in with a smile and normal attitude. Meanwhile on the couch, Emily wondered why she had reacted with such venom. y/n was only trying to lighten the mood, and she hadn’t said how horrible she felt. If she had, Emily knew y/n would hug her and kiss her and make her feel better inside of cracking a joke. Prentiss sat up and looked out the open window onto to the street as a few cars drove by. Emily wondered what brought those driving out so late. Who were they and where they were going? She wondered if they were happy. She slumped back into the couch cushions and missed the warmth of y/n’s snuggled up in front of her and the cool feel of their sheets over them. 

In the morning, both Em and y/n had gotten up at the same time. Prentiss moved into their room which she found unlocked. y/n looked up at her. Em could see that she had been crying and the lack of sleep on y/n’s face. Before Prentiss could say anything, y/n stated, “I’m sorry, Emily. I’m sorry for how I acted. Immature and like a child. You didn’t deserve that.” Emily dropped her head and replied, “I’m sorry too. It was wrong of me to shout at you like that. You were just trying to make me happy.” y/n swallowed and said, “I was, but I must have been missing something. Would you tell me about the case, or what caused you to act like that?” 

Prentiss nodded and sat down on the edge of the bed taking y/n’s hand in hers. “Yes. Let me explain. Thank you for giving me the time and care to listen.” After a long conversation, the pair set up some boundaries about not keeping things inside after cases for Emily and taking time to check in after she got home for y/n. y/n knew Emily had been acting okay, but in reality, she wasn't. y/n noted that if she was in Emily’s shoes, she might want to laugh after work and a case and y/n thought Emily might feel the same way. So after they had talked and kissed and made up, they both felt a bit crusty and decided to take a shower together. 

It felt wonderful as Emily’s strong hands moved down her y/s/t’ed shoulders and back. The soap suds moved down y/n’s back and Prentiss rubbed them over her lush behind and thighs. y/n sighed into the touch. When Emily had finished rinsing y/n off, y/n turned and had Em face the water. y/n placed a dollop of her shampoo that smelled of rose and juniper berry in her palm. Prentiss smiled as y/n’s fingers brushed through her silky dark strands of hair massaging her scalp and then making sure that all of her locks were coated in shampoo before turning Em to rinse off her shoulder-length hair. After a few more minutes the water started running tepid, and y/n and Emily got out and dried off. They spent the rest of the Saturday morning lounging around and getting coffee from the fancy place two blocks over. It felt lovely to be back and not have an argument hanging over them. As y/n opened the door for Prentiss, she thought about how they worked together. They had their moments and arguments like any couple, but all in all, they were steady. It seemed that steady was something new to both of them, and it made them happy and secure in one another. It had made y/n so happy and secure that it had got her thinking about roots, about the future. 

A few weeks later, y/n woke up early and realized that Emily was up. She snapped her laptop shut. The sound had Em turn around and look at y/n with just a hint of concern in her dark eyes. y/n smiled and got out of her seat saying, “Good morning, baby. How did you sleep?” Emily’s face broke into a soft smile and she replied, “I slept well. I love it when you’re the big spoon. It makes me sleep like a baby.” y/n got up and wrapped Em in a hug and whispered in her ear, “Well, I’ll have to do that more often then.” y/n inhaled her smell and tried to hide the blush on her face before pulling back and saying, “Do you want some breakfast and coffee? Or maybe a mimosa. I feel like cooking something if you want.” Prentiss nodded and said, “I think I could go for some blueberry or chocolate chip waffles if you’re down to make them.” y/n nodded and replied, “Of course. What are we feeling for drinks?” Em let out a small laugh and said, “Well, how about I make us lattes and you pop open some prosecco? We’ve still got juice in the fridge too. I’ll get the glasses.” y/n nodded knowing that Emily didn’t like popping corks --  a quirk that y/n thought was so cute. Em turned away to get the fluted glasses for the mimosas and while her back was turned she considered how y/n had been acting the last few days. It was like she was holding some secret. When y/n’s computer was in front of her, y/n always seemed to close it quickly or move it so she couldn’t see the screen. It wasn’t only that. Sometimes she was on the phone and talking quietly to someone she didn’t know. The pit in Emily’s stomach grew. And yet when she looked back at y/n who was humming her new favorite song while pulling eggs out from the middle row of the fridge. 

This was so unlike y/n to hide things from her. When it had first happened, Emily thought that maybe y/n was cheating but that wasn’t something that y/n would do unless she had really misread her girlfriend and their relationship wasn’t going anywhere. This bothered Prentiss because she was planning on asking y/n to marry her in a month on their second anniversary. Even if things weren’t good with them, which y/n’s behavior indicated otherwise, Prentiss was uncomfortable with y/n hiding things from her. Em had a good way of feeling out people, and y/n had seemed more excited to be with her recently, so all of the messages both verbal and nonverbal were throwing her for a loop. Prentiss was going to talk to JJ and Penelope about it on Monday to see if they had any insight into what was going on. At this point, y/n and the rest of the girls on the BAU were thick as blood. Em took a breath and decided to not let her self-doubt ruin their relationship. She had let that happen before, and even though it had turned out to be a good thing, Emily didn’t want to do that here. She loved y/n, and she knew y/n loved her. If y/n needed to tell her something, Emily knew she would, even if it was something difficult to hear. Prentiss fixed her face and took a breath before setting the glasses on the counter for y/n who leaned in and gave her a kiss before she moved to the coffee maker. 

y/n started mixing up the waffle batter. y/n didn’t like keeping things from Emily, but this was such a big subject to even bring up, and she wanted to have all of the facts beforehand. Not so that she could try and argue her point with Emily, but so she was sure it was what she wanted. But the more y/n looked at their options of getting pregnant, the firmer y/n was about her desire to start a family with Em. It was a conversation they had had before. A shared desire to have kids and raise them in a house full of love and tenderness that neither y/n nor Emily had had as children growing up on opposite sides of the globe. So the topic of wanting kids wouldn’t be a shock, just how quickly y/n was bringing it up. And if Emily said she needed more time, y/n would wait, but she couldn’t deny that her baby fever was growing thanks to JJ’s pregnancy and some recent laws passing. The whole idea made y/n’s stomach flutter in both delight and worry. Thankfully y/n was almost ready to tell Em, and again there would be no secrets to hold, just a future to plan, whatever that looked like for them. 

         The following Monday at work, Emily found Penelope in her office with its room full of screens and trinkets. Prentiss smiled at how Garcia’s personality shone through wherever she was. Em found the tech whizz inspirational in that way and many others. Garcia was busy typing something on her laptop and Emily had called her name twice already. Without any other options apart from pulling the plug on one of Penelope's babies, Emily tapped her on the shoulder instead. The genius shot out of her seat and Prentiss was eternally grateful that Gacria wasn’t holding one of her large cups of soda. “My God Emily, are you trying to get me out of my skin?” Penelope retorted when she had caught her breath. Em smiled and said, “It was that, or pull the plug on your computer. I thought you’d appreciate the latter. I did call your name twice.” Garcia let out a shaky laugh and said, “Okay, well lord, I have to stop listening to music so loud when I’m at work. Hotch got mad at me for it once already and somehow he’s always right because I don’t want to be scared like that again. So what brings you to my cave today dear? Need me to cast a love spell on you?” Prentiss laughed and replied, “Well I’m okay on that front. A clarification spell might be more in order. Are you back on the RPG game again?” Garcia blushed and said, “Maybe, maybe not. Anyhow, does the team need my presence?” Em nodded her head no, sat down on the ledge of Penelope's table, and said, “Not right now. I was just wondering if y/n had talked to you recently. She’s been acting kind of strange in the last three weeks and I just wanted to know if she has something planned?” 

Penelope was buzzing in her seat because she had an answer but had promised y/n that she wouldn’t say anything to Emily about it. y/n had discreetly asked around the office if anyone knew someone who had IVF treatments before and would be willing to talk candidly about the process, how much it cost, and the pros and cons of the procedure. The only other person who did know someone who had gone through In Vitro Fertilization was Rossi, but Dave didn’t think that person would want to discuss such an intimate part of their lives with a stranger, even if it was a friend of his. However, Penelope had a good friend named Shayla back from her college days who was now a happy single mom and had moved to the Virginia area last year for a new job with her little boy. y/n had met Shayla once before, and when Garcia brought her up as a possibility, y/n almost begged her to ask Shayla if she was comfortable talking about the long process. When Pen brought it up in their next catch-up call, Shayla happily agreed to share her knowledge. She had done plenty of research before deciding to move forward with having a child on her own, understood the great sacrifice and fears that could come with it, and was happy to give any helpful information she had. Of course, this conversation had prompted Penelope to ask y/n why she was asking and y/n had revealed that she was thinking of asking Emily to have a baby with her. Garcia had freaked out, jumping up and down in excitement. y/n had to stop her from running out of the room and shouting at anyone that her friend was getting pregnant. Once the blonde analyst had settled down, y/n took a breath and said, “Now Penelope. I know you’re excited but I’m just in the research stage which sounds calculated when I put it like that, I haven’t told Emily about this yet and I need to be sure I feel confident before I spring this on her. Could you please please, please not tell her?” Garcia nodded seriously and said, “My lips are sealed. I pinky promise.” y/n let out a sigh of relief. 

But as Garcia was faced with Emily now, it wasn’t as easy as telling y/n her secret was safe. It was threatening to burst out of her seams and she needed to come up with an excuse fast or risk losing a dear friend in y/n. Penelope cleared her throat and said, “Hey, Em. I kinda stayed up all night playing that game and well as you can see I’m running numbers for Stan’s team….” She gave her best pleading eyes that seemed to work on everyone. Prentiss let out a soft laugh and replied, “Alright, What flavor do you want grape, Cola, or orange?” Pen smiled brightly and said, “Orange, please. You are a lifesaver!” Emily patted her on the top of her blond head and said, “Well just hope Hotch or JJ doesn’t call a new case while I’m gone. You should get someone to install controls or something on your system at home to stop you from staying up twenty-four-seven.” Garica scoffed, looked at Emily’s retreating form, and said, “Baby, if anyone could crack into my harddrive, I’d let them.” As Emily moved out of the office and toward the 7-11 to get Penelope’s soda, she felt relieved. Not that she fully believed nothing was happening with y/n, but if the team hadn’t noticed anything, then, it made her feel better. Once Emily was out of sight, Penelope whipped out her phone and texted y/n: “Emily is asking questions, baby girl. I’d start thinking about asking her soon or she might find out what you’re doing.” 

The week moved by quickly with lots of paperwork for Emily and the start of a new campaign cycle for y/n who moaned about it as much as possible without being annoying to Em. It didn’t help that the senator y/n worked with had gotten themselves into another scandal that was rocking their office and party. When y/n was going on a rant about corruption on Friday night Emily hugged her from behind, kissed her temple, and said, “I’m sorry sweetheart. I know it’s annoying, but you're good at your job even if it’s a bad system. But that doesn’t make you bad.” y/n relaxed into Prentiss’s embrace. y/n let out a sigh and said, “I’m sorry for going off. I know it’s annoying.” Emily nuzzled her face into y/n’s neck to relax her further as she whispered, “Don’t apologize y/n. Work can be agonizing sometimes, I know that as much as anyone. If it bothers me I'll tell you. Now, how about we do something fun tomorrow? We could get brunch at that place we like in midtown. You know the place where you asked me out officially?” y/n’s face broke out into a smile and she said, “I’d love that Em. Sorry if I’ve been a little distant right now. I’ve been thinking about some things and I want to share them with you in the morning. It’s nothing bad or anything, but something I just want to discuss with you. You’re everything to me love, and I’m so happy we’re together.” Prentiss’s heart fluttered knowing that y/n was finally going to tell her what was going on. Her words were reassuring, that it ‘wasn't’ bad’ or ‘anything bad about her,’ but even so, her nerves sang inside as they both headed to bed. 

In the morning, y/n woke up slightly early for a Saturday and got into a hot shower. She washed her body in _y/f/s_ed body wash. She then moved to her hair and shampooed and conditioned it. Lastly y/n shaved so her legs were smooth. When she stepped out of the shower, Emily was up. y/n walked into their room in a towel, and Em looked up from the bed, Her brown eyes got wider and she said, “Well, good morning, love?” y/n smiled and said, “Morning sweetheart.” y/n dropped her towel, and lazily crawled on the bed. Emily followed her with her eyes and her tongue slipped out of her mouth and wetted her lower lip subconsciously. y/n grinned and moved over Emily’s body and kissed her gently at first and then with more passion. Em snaked her hands around y/n’s hips. Once y/n’s tongue was slipped into Emily’s mouth, her fingers moved to y/n’s hair and tugged it gently at the root. After y/n and Prentiss were desperate for air, y/n pulled away and moved onto her knees before saying, “Maybe we should get dressed or we’ll miss brunch sweetheart.” Emily whined and said, “Do we have to?” y/n laughed and replied, “I think so. I’m in need of a good mimosa and waffle. Plus, we can get right back to this when we get back if we want.” Emily sat up and brushed her thumb over y/n’s jaw before saying, “Alright love. Give me a few minutes to get ready and we can go. It’s good if we go sooner though because you know how crazy that place gets after 11:00.” y/n nodded in agreement as she moved to the closet to pick out a spring dress and some matching jewelry while Emily used the bathroom and vanity to get ready. Emily chose a pink jumpsuit that fit her curves perfectly and was strapless showing off her lovely shoulders and neck. 

y/n and Emily got to the restaurant before the big rush and were seated outside at a quiet corner table surrounded by a fence and hedge that gave the space a cool and calm feeling away from the bustle inside and the rush of cars outside. A waiter came and got their drink orders and while he was there, Emily and y/n also ordered pain au chocolat. Emily got a glass of white wine and y/n got a pomegranate mimosa, and they both got coffee. The lean man noted what they wanted and moved away. The wait time at this spot was longer giving people time to relax and talk. y/n looked at Emily wondering if she should start the conversation. Emily returned y/n’s smile, her face looking radiant in the glow of the midmorning sun. Prentiss shifted in her seat and said, “You’ve been looking so happy the last few days. Whatever it is you have to tell me I just want to say I’m so happy to see you like this. I wish every day could be like this. That there wasn’t the stress or worry of our jobs looming over us. But you make me feel safe and seen every day, and I wouldn’t have it any other way.” 

Once Emily said the words aloud, the idea in her head sprang so full and bright that she felt like she might be bowled over by a small breeze. The idea had been there for a few months but she hadn’t planned it. Certainly hadn’t even dreamed of it being like this, but it felt so right. When she looked over at y/n who was clearly saying something, Emily thought for a brief moment that she might be looking at the sun, blinding it it’s light and radiance. Prentiss cleared her throat and mind and finally heard y/n repeat, “Are you alright darling? You were in your own world there for a second.” Emily nodded now knowing what she was going to do and said, “Yeah I’m good. I just had an idea. So I suppose I have something to tell you too. But you go first. What was it you were wanting to tell me today that you’ve been so secretive about?” y/n blushed and felt better now that they both were going to say something, though she had no idea what Emily had up her sleeve. y/n replied, “Well why don’t you go first.” Prentiss shot back teasingly, “No you first.” They repeated this one more time before they both blurted out at the same time: 

“I want to have a baby with you.” 

“I want to marry you.” 

When Emily and y/n both registered what the other had said they were stunned into silence. y/n felt her chest tighten with emotions that threatened to bubble over. She composed herself first and asked in awe, “Emily Prentiss, are you proposing to me right now?” Emily took a shallow breath in at what y/n had said about wanting a baby and y/n’s question and, she said, “I am, sweetheart. It just felt right right now. I don’t want to spend another day without you being mine in the most real way possible. Time just goes by so fast and as soon as we know it we’ll both be grey and have bad knees. We’re both gone so often from each other so I’d like you to be mine if you’re willing to be. y/n, will you marry me?” Emily got out of her chair and onto one knee. Again she was glad they were in a quieter part of the restaurant. y/n nodded her head yes and fell to her knees next to Em embracing her in a hug and saying, “Yes, Oh of course I will. I love you so much, I want my whole life with you.” They both stayed there for a moment on the brick floor before Emily raised her head from y/n’s shoulder wiping her own eyes of the salty liquid at her corneas before pulling back and helping y/n to her feet. They hugged properly with a tight embrace that said they would never be apart for longer than they had to be, and even when they were apart, they would still be together. Em pulled back and said, “I’m sorry I don’t have a ring for you, but it just felt right to ask you now. I promise I’ll get you one that’s just perfect.” y/n smiled and said, “I know whatever you pick out will be perfect love.” She leaned in and planted her mouth on Emily’s and they both let go of each other with a feeling of lightness and ecstasy that neither had expected this morning in bed. Just as they both sat down, the waiter returned with their pastries and drinks on a tray. He set all the plates and glasses down and said he’d be back in a bit to see if they needed anything else. 

Once he had gone, y/n and Emily raised their glasses to their engagement and y/n said, “To the best fiance I could ever ask for!” As they clinked glasses Em added, “And to my favorite person in the whole world.” They both took sips of their drinks and what y/n had said resurfaced to the front of Prentiss’s mind after the euphoria of y/n saying yes to her proposal dimmed slightly. Em leaned forward and asked, “y/n you want to have a baby?” y/n flushed and nodded sheepishly. Suddenly talking to Emily about this made her feel nervous. With a steadying breath y/n replied, “Not just a baby Em. I want to have your baby. I’ve been researching reciprocal IVF. Looking up what the procedure is like for both parties, how expensive it is, and where there are clinics nearby that we could visit and consult with. I even went as far as talking to some people who’ve done it before to see how their experience was for them. That’s what I’ve been researching for the last few weeks. And I know this sounds so fast. Like I’m rushing. I don’t mean to pressure you into making a choice now or next week or month or even year. I just want you to know that I’d love to build a life with you. A life that might include children in the future if that’s something you're interested in. I just wanted to have all the facts I could about what that would possibly be like before springing something this big on you” Emily absorbed the information and took a sip of her drink. She said with a smile, “Look at you doing your research. Not that you don’t research, but I think we’re rubbing off on each other. You’re making me more comfortable in making big moves like proposing while I’m making you research a topic as much as possible.” y/n laughed and said, “Well, I guess that makes us pretty compatible, huh.” Emily chuckled and continued to think about what y/n had just said. 

It wasn’t something they had talked about recently, but children was a topic of discussion they had had and it made Emily relieved to know that y/n left that secure in their relationship that it was something she was seriously thinking about. Now that they were engaged, it only made more sense, even though y/n couldn’t have known that coming into today. For a moment Emily pictured y/n cradling their baby, and then a toddler running around their apartment, and the child grown up and going off to school. Prentiss pulled herself from the film playing in her head. As lovely an image as it was, it was a lot to think about. She lifted her eyes up to y/n’s nervous gaze. Prentiss moved her right hand to y/n’s and held it across the table saying, “I think that’s a beautiful idea y/n. It is a lot to think about. I do appreciate that you’re comfortable enough to tell me something that’s really important to you. Would you mind if I give it some time to think through?” y/n squeezed Emily’s palm and replied, “Take all the time you need love. There’s no rush.” Prentiss felt a surge of warmth move through her not associated with the fact that she was sitting in the sun. Having someone as passionate and who understood her so well was the best thing that could have happened to her. Emily did wonder if something had prompted y/n into her desire for children. She’d never been one to have baby fever before now and the shift was interesting to her. 

Emily watched y/n sip her drink and relax in her chair a bit. Prentiss asked, “Sweetheart, what sparked your desire for kids if anything? Or did it just sort of happen?” y/n sighed and said, “It’s been coming for a while I think, but things have made it speed up for me I suppose.” Emily nodded her head as if to say, “Keep going, love.” y/n placed her palms flat on the table and continued, “I guess that so much crazy stuff has been happening in the country recently. I know you know that. We both do as we work in the government, but the upturning of Roe V. Wade and all the crazy abortion bans popping up all over the place. I suppose I just don’t want to be too late. Like one day we both decided it was time and by then we didn’t even have that option. I don’t mean to sound melodramatic or to push you in any way, we have time, it’s just made me prioritize some things in my life that I hadn’t given too much thought to before now. I mean if Alabama can almost stop IVF then I’m afraid of what might come after that. I suppose having a child became more important to me the more things like that happen here.” 

Emily gave a soft smile, she could more fully see where y/n was coming from and it made sense with her personality. Em moved her hand across the table and stroked her cheek gently before saying, “That makes sense darling. I’m going to have to think about it for a while before we do anything, but maybe when we get home, you can tell me a bit more about the process, and the cost. If we commit to something like this we’re going to need to be saving for some time.” y/n chuckled and said, “Take all the time you need darling. We can save money for that and a wedding too.” Emily paused and said, “Do you mind if I don’t tell the team right away about the engagement? I just want to get a ring and have it be a bit more put together because once I tell them, we’re going to be swamped with questions from JJ, Garcia, and Rossi.” y/n snorted and covered her mouth at how accurate Emily was. She could picture that conversation happening and how Garica would pounce on Em and then how she’d get ten calls for Penelope and then some texts and another call from Dave congratulating her. Since y/n had gotten to know the team more, Rossi had become a father figure which made her heart warm. y/n replied, “Yes, of course sweetheart. That will be a day to remember. Almost as exciting as getting to say yes to you Mrs. Prentiss.” 

Shortly after this their waiter came back and got them a second round of drinks and they ordered some plates to share. The weekend flew by as always, and Emily showed up at Quantico with an excited air about her. The team slowly rolled into the bullpen on work days like they normally did. Em and JJ passed through security at the same time, and JJ who was now very pregnant asked Prentiss, “You seem preoccupied today. Is something up?” Emily tried to stay cool and said, “Nope, well apart from the fact that y/n and I had a late night last night.” Em gave JJ a wink and JJ shot her a sly smile replying, “Well that would make you pretty tired I suppose.” Emily laughed and the two women moved up to their floor. Prentiss hadn’t been lying about y/n and her last night. They’d spent a few pleasurable hours both in the shower and the bed solidifying their bond. Telling one truth and omitting two others felt better than a flat-out lie. Emily was a mix of emotions today and it did make her feel and perhaps look different which she was trying to hide. She was incredibly happy about the unofficial engagement but nervous about y/n’s question. It was more than a question, it was a whole new part of their life if they pursued it. Emily spent a good deal of the morning telling Spencer and Penelope that nothing was wrong and that she was fine but tired. Even Aaron gave her a look saying that he knew something was up. But Hotch didn’t always have the time for gossip and he trusted and knew Em enough that if she was having a serious problem, she could come to him anytime night or day. By lunch time, Prentiss felt a little bit more emotionally drained than she had coming into work. She hardly noticed Derek sneak in behind her to use the microwave when her leftover pasta was finished reheating. 

Morgan said over the hum of the microwave, “So you told Spence and Garcia everything is fine and you gave Hotch that look that it’s all cool and they left you alone, but you're one of the most put-together people on the team and something is off. Keeping secrets is a burden and I’d think you’d like at least one person to know what’s playing in your mind on repeat. Listen if we go on a case or something then it might make you slower. Would you please tell me what’s going on? I won’t tell anyone else. You know I’m also good at keeping a secret.” Derek’s appearance startled Emily, and she jumped at his first few words but calmed quickly as she listened more intently to what he was saying. She bit the inside of her lip. The problem was she knew Derek was right and somehow that bothered her. However, Morgan would be as good a person to tell as any. Their bond was strong, but not as interwoven as the rest of the team. And he was good at keeping quiet. Prentiss deflated slightly and decided to be honest with Derek saying, “Okay but this stays between us, please?” Morgan nodded his consent and indicated for Em to continue. Emily thought of the proposal but knew the issue that was bugging her was what she should say. Finally, she stated, with a slow caution, “y/n wants to have a baby with me.” 

That response was far from what Derek had been expecting, and he blinked a few times just to ensure he’d heard correctly. Slowly a smile crept to his face replying, “That’s amazing, Em!” Emily nodded lightly and Derek was confused as to why she wasn’t showing the same joy he was. He cleared his throat lightly and asked, “Do you not want that Emily?” Prentiss let out a long sigh and said what she’d been thinking about since last night: “I do think I want kids in time. And y/n and I have talked about that before now. We talked about it before we became serious.” Derek was confused by her hesitation and asked, “Is y/n like, rushing you into this?” Emily nodded no and replied, “No not at all. She knows me too well for that. She did a bunch of research beforehand and told me there wasn’t any rush. And also that if kids wasn’t something I was interested in she and I could talk about it.” This reply left Derek even more confused and he scratched the back of his head. Finally, Morgan asked, “So, why are you upset exactly?” Em came out with it and said, “What if I’m a bad mom? I can see y/n being the most loving and caring parent in the world, but my track history with my mother just doesn’t indicate that I’m going to be that competent a parent.” 

When Emily got to the point of contention, Derek couldn’t help but chuckle, and Prentiss lightly slapped his board arm and said, “Don’t laugh at me, Morgan.” Derek managed to stop his chuckling and say, “I’m mainly laughing at your wording, Em. I don’t think any parent would say they are ‘competent.’ And if you’re going to question me on that, ask Hotch if he thinks he’s a competent parent with Jack or JJ with her baby. I swear no one has it all figured out.” Emily was still hesitant and Derek continued, “Emily no matter what you decide it’s going to be the right thing. I know you and y/n won’t jump into anything, but if you ask me, I think you’ll make a fantastic parent.” Emily could tell that Morgan was no longer joking and she asked, “Why do you say that?” She was genuinely curious to hear how he would answer. Morgan leaned against the wall and replied, “Well you could just call it intuition, but the other sign to me is how in tune with yourself and y/n you are. You notice things about everyone, especially y/n. If you decide to have a kid together that will be the most loved child ever. You may not have it all figured out, but with how much you care about each other, I know you and y/n will figure out the rest. You’ll be a great Mom Em.” Emily felt her heart warm slightly and the original image of a child running around her and y/n’s apartment, or the park, or a variety of other idyllic scenes came back in a rush. She knew this wasn’t always going to be the reality, but she felt encouraged and replied to Morgan, “Thanks, Derek. I appreciate that. And thanks for letting me ramble.” Derek smiled again and was happy to see Emily happy. He said, “You got it Em. And my lips are sealed.” Emily felt much better the rest of the day having one person know what she was thinking about. It helped so much that after she had talked about it, she found it much easier to work. 

It was a few weeks later as Prentiss had found the right ring for y/n, and she and y/n had talked about breaking that set of news to the team that Emily came up behind y/n who was standing at the kitchen counter. Prentiss hugged y/n gently from behind and said softly in her ear, “y/n, I want to try. I want to try for a baby with you.” y/n froze and then turned around slowly in Emily’s arms and said, “Really?” Emily nodded and replied, “Really baby. I want some time before we go for it, but I want to be with you.” y/n felt her eyes well with tears of happiness. Her life had felt so empty and barren before she met Emily. Now life felt so full. She was getting married to the best woman ever, and they were planning a family. A lot was yet to come in their journey, but for now, everything was perfect. As the tears started rolling, y/n mouthed, “I love you so, so much Emily,” as she leaned in with her tear-stained face and kissed Em with all the love she could give. Emily wrapped her arms around y/n and kissed her back. Yes, time went quickly, but together they would make the most of every minute there was between them and the family they were planning.

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[nightlight-stardust-and-rain]

So. Predatory species Obi-wan.

Mostly I just think it's funny to make him a predator bc if you take all the SW character and go "which one looks more likely to eat someone" Obi-Wan would definitely not be it. Not even top 20. He's much more likely to deliver a devastating burn with a flat tone lmao but anyway!

Specifically, Obi-wan being from a species who's pretty damn known for eating people. Like, it's not the only thing they can eat but a...... Something big happened a while ago and the galaxy never really forgot. Nowadays Stewjoni people don't really eat anyone but it's.... Mostly because they don't leave their planet. The predatory instincts are definitely here (Quinlan wears proof of that because once when they were teenagers he made the mistake of pissing obi-wan off and letting his finger wander a bit too close and long story short, Obi-wan bit him so hard he severed Quinlan's finger and they had to go to a healer really fast. Obi-wan felt super guilty for a while but Quinlan annoyed him into forgiving himself. Nowadays he's more embarassed that he lost control so bad. Quinlan thinks it was hilarious and that he definitely expected to get bitten but he didn't expect the result.)

Mostly the instincts are just Obi-wan really wanting to bite people when they're annoying and maybe wanting to chase people if they turn their back to him and run. Also headbutting people to show affection, which became a Whole Thing™ when he was on Mandalore. He doesn't really thinks about how people would taste until he's hungry and he's really good at controlling himself.

But basically this whole thing came from an idea I had with Alpha-17!

Basically it's like. Obi-wan being a predatory species is a bit of a secret bc like.... It's not like he'd be killed if people knew but Stewjoni still have a really bad reputation. So he doesn't like to talk about it. And people don't really know because he looks so mild-mannered and he smiles with his mouth closed so you can't see the teeth and he hides his hands in his sleeves because otherwise he picks at his skin which is not good when one has claws.

Okay so the clones don't know Obi-wan is from a predatory species. He's not hiding it, but when the clones see him headbutt Anakin like an affectionate Tooka they either go "maybe that's a nat-born thing" or "maybe that's a Jedi thing" or "makes sense, my batch mate like keldabe kisses too". Due to their childhood they have literally no idea of what is Normal Human Behavior so they don't notice that Obi-Wan isn't human.

Point is, Obi-wan and Alpha-17 get captured by Ventress and she tries to sow discord by being all "how can you trust a predator ? Unless you didn't know what he was? Then how can you trust something that hides what it is" basically she's just trying to get Alpha to distrust Obi-wan so he won't try to help him escape.

Obi-Wan's kind of expecting.... Not fear, exactly. Alpha-17 sort of doesn't do fear. But he's expecting some agressivity at least. Some wariness.

Except Alpha is just mostly outraged. How come Kenobi, who won't even kill a few annoying senators, gets the biological advantages that comes with being a predator?? That's so unfair. This idiot wouldn't even think about eating anyone. Alpha could use the biology way better! He would have loved to be able to eat a few kaminoans!! That's fucking unfair. How come his Jedi gets sharp fangs and he doesn't?? UN. FAIR.

Lmao yeah the whole plot is basically just Alpha-17 being offended that his pacifist of a general won the genetic lottery while he (who would have used the fangs as they're meant to be used!!) didn't. Boo.

(Obi-wan is wondering why Alpha-17 and Anakin don't get along better because they have startlingly similar reactions to learning about his species)

[dindjarindiaries]

Senator's Shadow - Chapter 7

summary: Hunter and the senator at long last indulge in their desires and affections, though the weight of the upcoming mission and Hunter’s suspecting squad cannot be ignored.

pairing: hunter (the bad batch) x fem!reader

rating: mature (18+)

tags: bodyguard romance, forbidden love, fluff & angst, emotional & physical hurt/comfort, canon-typical violence, injuries & blood, trauma, eventual/mild smut

word count: 6.061k

chapter 6 ⟸ series masterlist ⟹ chapter 8

chapter 7 ⟹

This was a type of freedom Hunter had never felt before, bought by your words of reassurance that had liberated him to make this choice—and if this freedom would always taste as good as your lips did right now, he never wanted to stop feeling it.

At some point, Hunter had dropped his helmet in favor of holding you. After all the space he had put between the two of you over the past day, he needed you as close as possible. It had been a torment, one he had inflicted upon himself, and he was aching to make up for all that lost time.

Hunter reached out with his senses, but he didn’t push them beyond the bounds of your bedroom. This time, he dedicated each enhancement solely to you. He listened to the rapid beating of your heart and the breaths you stole between desperate kisses. He felt the softness and warmth of your skin as he pulled you closer. He tasted your sweetness on his tongue, and he smelled the lingering perfume on your skin—and stole glances at your beauty whenever he could spare them.

For the first time, Hunter wanted to be overwhelmed by his senses, and so he pushed them even harder.

One of your hands was in his hair when you pulled away to breathe. Just like before, what was certainly too long ago, Hunter stayed close and buried his face in the warmth of your neck. It was a refuge he never wanted to leave. Even though your heartbeat still roared in his ears, he could also feel your pulse underneath his lips, and the rush of hot desire within you fed his own.

Hunter wanted to hear it again, that breathy, desperate plea for him, the one that hadn’t been able to leave his head ever since the moment you first said it. He pulled you closer, grasping silk and soft skin, and worked his mouth over your neck in endless succession.

It didn’t take long for him to get what he wanted. This time, your sigh was even more drawn out in a pure ache for him—so much so that you couldn’t get his full name out. “Hunt…”

Hunter paused to spare a look at you. Your eyes had fluttered closed, your swelling lips slightly parted, and he wondered how any of this was real. But the trusty senses he had locked in to proved this wasn’t another dream, and Hunter was going to take advantage of that by making good on your plea.

It was easy for him to take you over to the bed, and even easier to reach over his back for his pack and toss it somewhere on the floor. You took a hold of his face to kiss him again, and he let you, waiting for the moment when your aching lungs would need another breath. All his years of combat training were paying off here, giving him the stamina he needed to lavish his praise onto you without interruption.

Hunter heard the rush of desperate air flood into your lungs when you pulled away, and he lowered his lips back to your neck—but he didn’t stop at the sweet spot he had already claimed as his own. He continued, tracing cool silk and lace with his lips and his hands as he went. There would be no stopping until the coolness of it all was exchanged for unprecedented warmth.

Yet he still hesitated, because while you had let him make the overall decision, Hunter wouldn’t and couldn’t make one such as this on your behalf. His gaze flickered to yours in patient waiting. All it took was the gentle nudge of his head from your hand in his hair for him to understand what choice you had made.

And it was a damn good one, if Hunter could say so himself.

Each apology Hunter had written in his mind for you was finally being freed from his tongue, and rather than waiting to hear that he was forgiven, he took your other sighs, pleas, and curses to mean the very same thing. It was even better than he had imagined it would be, the rush of relief and affection in knowing that you held nothing against him, and certainly held nothing back. He had pictured his hands on your face in his mind, but having his hands on your thighs was even better.

It was only becoming easier to lose himself in you, until the chiming of the comm on his belt battled for his attention. What gave him full pause was the voice that spoke out of it into the open air.

“Hunter, Crosshair and I have completed our perimeter sweep,” Tech informed him as matter-of-factly as usual. “There are no signs of anyone else around, and we have searched quite thoroughly.”

Hunter broke away from you and steadied himself with a few breaths. When his gaze caught yours, he set a finger over his lips, urging you to quiet your panting breaths as he reached for the comm. One hand continued to brush a thumb mindlessly over your thigh as the other activated the device. “Good. I’m glad to hear it.” Even now, he still focused on the wellbeing of his squad. “Now get some rest. We’ve got a big day ahead of us.”

Hunter went to secure the comm back on his belt, but Tech had more to say. “Affirmative. I presume the senator is all right, then?”

Hunter’s stare found yours, and he couldn’t help smiling as he responded. “Yeah. She’s feeling a lot better, now.” He looked back down at the comm. “Now get going.”

Tech said something in the affirmative, but Hunter didn’t bother to listen anymore. He threw the comm somewhere far from his belt and finally focused back on you, picking up exactly where he had left off. It was a relief; the air was so much sweeter when you were all he could breathe in.

Hunter didn’t stop until you were satisfied, achieving the full forgiveness he had been seeking in a way that was equally as satisfying for him. His hands found your waist and drew you closer to him until he could share in your sweetness with another breathless kiss. But there was something else you wanted, a hand that was drifting closer to his belt, and he had to stop you with a gentle grasp on your wrist.

“No,” Hunter spoke, his voice even raspier than usual as he watched your gaze flash with confused panic for a moment. He cupped the side of your face to reassure you. “You can return the favor another time.” Hunter’s nose brushed yours as he kissed your top lip and prepared his own plea. “Complete me first.”

He pulled back just enough to see the requited desire and affection in your gaze. You were the one to start making good on his plea this time, and that was how the pile of supplies and armor on the floor grew larger. It was soon joined by nylon, silk, and lace, which had all been exchanged for the softness of your bedsheets.

All that was left was the bandana that Hunter rarely removed, which you had clearly been cautious enough to leave alone. But he wanted to prove his willingness to sacrifice, even if it meant overstimulating his delicate yet powerful senses, and so he removed it in a single swift movement and let it join the pile, too.

Your eyes widened up at him in sweet admiration as your hands threaded through the hair that had already started to fall around his face. Still, there was a concerned knit in your brow, one that Hunter was eager to smooth out. “Will having your hair down bother you?”

“Not with you flooding my senses.” Hunter pressed a kiss to your wrinkled brow. “Trust me.”

When he leaned back to face you, Hunter caught your sweet gaze and your firm nod. “I do.”

There it was, your answer to the question he had been preparing to ask, just like before. Hunter returned your nod and held you close, his swollen lips meeting yours the moment he fulfilled your unspoken desire.

Every single one of his senses was overwhelmed with a rush so warm and pleasant that it drew a gasp from his lips. Each nerve ending frayed and lit small fires that devoured his skin, forcing his eyes closed as he exhaled an audibly pleased breath through his burning lungs. His head hung low enough for his forehead to touch yours, and in the fight for his bearings, he could feel your hands pushing his hair away from his face.

“Hunter?” Your utterance of his name was concerned yet strained, evidently passing through the pleased knot in your throat. “Are you okay?” He was still searching for his voice when you went on. “Is it too much?”

Hunter shook his head. “No.” He held you closer, his stare meeting yours before your unbearable sweetness and luxury forced his eyes closed yet again. “It’s everything I needed.”

And so, like before, he pushed on, testing the limit of each enhanced sense as he navigated your pleasure amongst his own. Using his abilities for something so good was fulfilling, with his senses picking up on all the things you didn’t have to say—and all the things he didn’t have to ask. He could understand what parts of you cried out for him, what made your heart pound harder and your breath catch faster.

But he still spoke, even if he couldn’t keep track of the words. The details weren’t important, so long as he continued to ask what you liked, to reassure you of all the ways in which you were so sweetly fraying his senses, to affirm that this was something the stars themselves had written. You didn’t have it in you to do the same, but again, Hunter didn’t need that. He could understand you in ways you couldn’t possibly imagine.

You were still trying, though, and Hunter did have to be mindful of the fact that he wasn’t the only one who was supposed to be on watch. He set his lips against your ear and spoke more quietly than before. “You don’t even have to scream.” Hunter’s cheek brushed yours as he nodded. “I can hear everything.” He eased your head into the refuge of his neck. “Come here. I’ll still be able to hear.” He released a quick growl at the feeling of your warm lips on his sensitive skin. “Promise.”

You held him tighter, until Hunter’s senses began to blur everything about you and himself together. In his muddled mind, your images were becoming one, a fulfillment of his plea for completion. It was becoming unbearable, but not in a way Hunter ever wanted to stop. It had to be impossible to feel as good and as whole as he did with you.

And that was the only thought he had when every sense and nerve ending came undone: you. Your name, not your title, on his lips as you did the same for him. Then, sharing your breath as the pleased fog started to lift, supporting your head and kissing you until he heard your heart slow in tandem with his own.

Hunter let you break away first. Once you did, he settled himself alongside you, inviting you to rest your head on his chest as the two of you relished in the sweetness of it all for a few more moments. One of your hands went back to brushing the wisps of hair out of his face, making Hunter’s face run hot as he smiled at you.

“Well…” Hunter huffed, amused by the loving daze in your eyes, “I hope that answers your question.”

You laughed, your eyes closing for a moment before you reopened them and nodded. “Yeah, I expected as much from a ‘man of action’ such as yourself.”

Hunter broke your gaze in shyness, but there was no hiding from you now. You giggled again as you pushed yourself up to press a kiss against his cheek. It sent another rush of warmth through his chest, a sensation that—as pleasing as it was—made his tired mind even more dizzy. You rested your head back on his chest and let your eyelids flutter closed, but Hunter couldn’t let you sleep yet.

“Hold on.” Hunter kept his voice soft as he started to sit up with you. “Don’t rest yet.”

You looked at him with a raised brow. “You’ve already proven your point, Hunter.”

Hunter chuckled and shook his blush away. “I know.” He kept holding you as he eased his way out of the bed. “Just bear with me.”

Your feet didn’t have to touch the floor as Hunter led the two of you to your refresher. He was quick with washing the two of you, but also thorough, letting his exhausted senses guide him even as the threat of overstimulation prickled at his temples. You complied with a sweet smile on your face the entire time, though the tiredness in your eyes explained your silence to Hunter. From the rush of the attack to what you two had just shared, he couldn’t blame you.

Hunter only felt better once he had gotten the two of you back in your bed. He was too overwhelmed by both the weight of his spent senses and his own desperation to stay close to you to think through the consequences of abandoning his post for any longer, and he found it easy to seek rest with you the moment your cheek pressed against his chest.

The morning wasn’t nearly as peaceful.

Hunter woke to the sound of your comm chiming on your bedside table. During the night, the two of you had shifted so that his face was now the one buried in your neck, and he stayed there with a tired grumble even as you reached over for the comm. “Good morning,” you greeted whoever was on the other end.

“Good morning, Senator.” Why was it always Tech? “Apologies if I have alerted you, but we are currently approaching the time when you are typically ready to begin your day. I wanted to make sure you were well, given last night’s events.”

Hunter couldn’t help smiling at Tech’s concern for you, and when he lifted his face from the warmth of your skin, he saw you doing the very same. “I appreciate that, Tech.” Hunter relaxed against you again when your free hand began to tend to his hair in soothing strokes. “I’m just fine, and I’ll be ready soon.”

“Affirmative. I will alert the squad with the wake-up call, then.”

Hunter heard the breath that caught in your throat. Your hands found the sides of his face as you urged him to look at you, and his heart already began to race at the panic in your eyes. His low voice was still hoarse from his slumber. “What is it?”

You didn’t have to speak. Hunter heard the chiming of his comm from somewhere in the room, and immediately, his slowly awakening mind put the pieces together.

Hunter sighed heavily and closed his eyes. He had trapped himself within your bedroom. “Shit.”

You softened, even laughing as you lifted your brow at him. “I assume you have a plan?”

Hunter shrugged and let the corners of his mouth stretch wider. “I’ll think of one.” He kissed you, but kept it brief. “It’s what I’m known for.”

You gave your eyes a playful roll as the two of you slid out of the bed together. Hunter forced himself to focus on dressing himself in the scattered pieces of his gear even with the temptation of you getting yourself ready so close to him. He was relieved when he had wrapped his bandana back around his head, relaxing his delicate senses as he continued to gather and secure everything else.

With his helmet tucked underneath his arm, Hunter found his chiming comm last, and he pressed the button to make it stop. He looked at you and saw that you had almost finished getting ready, and he allowed himself a quick yet indulgent once-over of your emerald green gown before he forced himself to focus.

“I’m gonna use the passage,” Hunter announced, striding over to where you were standing. Your admiring stare found his as you gave him the same once-over he had just given you. “Once I hear Crosshair come back inside.”

You nodded, but kept an eyebrow raised. “And where will you go from there?”

Hunter raised the corner of his mouth. “You’ll see.” He paused when he heard footsteps inside the suite, and he locked into his senses to confirm it was Crosshair making his way to your doors. Once he could confirm that they had both opened and closed, he returned his attention to you. “That’s my cue.”

Hunter was about to step away, but you pulled him back with a hand behind his neck, kissing him one more time before you broke away and smiled. “See you soon, Sergeant?”

Hunter nodded. “Like I never left, Senator.”

He found your hand and gave it a squeeze before he let your bedroom door open for him. Hunter walked through the threshold and activated the secret door, sliding on his helmet and turning on his torch. He picked up his pace as he navigated the winding stone corridor. It wasn’t long until he saw daylight surrounding the edges of the outside door, bringing him closer to his destination.

Hunter made sure the door was closed and secured behind him as he stepped out and looked up. A quick calculation told him which viewport on the side of the capitol building was his, and he took the necessary shot to get himself up there. Hunter only hung there for a few moments as he used his knife to pry open the viewport and slid inside. Sparing just a few breaths, Hunter closed the viewport and dusted himself off.

Only then did he approach his own door, tucking his helmet underneath his arm as it opened for him. He stepped out into the eager gazes of his squad, who were rarely ever gathered before he could join them. Hunter prepared himself for whatever would come next.

“Good mornin’, Sarge!” Wrecker smiled and stepped up to greet Hunter with a rough yet loving clap on the shoulder. Hunter grunted and rolled it out. “Looks like you actually got some rest for once!”

“I will make note of the time and day,” Tech chimed in, grinning to himself as he pulled out his datapad.

Hunter rolled his eyes, using the gesture to help himself fight the warmth that threatened to take over his face. “I guess the adrenaline of that attack last night got to me.”

All the warmth of what he and you had shared dissipated the moment Hunter brought up the attack. It forced him to think about the upcoming mission, and never before had he dreaded a battle so much. He and his squad lived for their missions, but this had become so much more complicated than cutting down some battle droids, especially with you at the heart of the conflict.

“You and the senator both,” Crosshair teased, breaking through Hunter’s worried reverie. He smirked as he adjusted the toothpick between his lips.

The doors to your suite then opened, and the chuckles of the squad stopped when you raised your brow. At least he had already prepared himself to see you ready for the day just a few short minutes ago, but that still didn’t stop his heart from skipping at the mere sight of you. Hunter swallowed hard and fought the urge to make his way to your side. “What was that, Crosshair?” Your tone was laced with strong amusement.

Crosshair returned your raised brow and kept his smirk. “Nothing.” His gaze quickly flickered over you before he turned back to the rest of the group.

Hunter narrowed his eyes at Crosshair’s subtle gesture. It was curiosity that started to eat away at him, not jealousy, as he racked his mind for what Crosshair could have been looking for—and clearly found.

“Sergeant?” Hunter snapped back into focus at your voice calling for him. His stare met yours, and he found it hard not to dwell upon the past few hours as he observed the pure admiration in your eyes. “What are the plans for today?”

Hunter forced himself to morph back into his role as a leader as he nodded at you. “Preparations for tonight. We’ll do a quick scouting at the camp before we come back and do our briefing. Then…” Hunter smiled, ignoring the part of him that screamed in protest and instead tapping into the confident soldier he’s always been, “we fight.”

You returned his smile, but what you couldn’t hide was the hint of darkness that lurked in your gaze. It sent a helpless pang through Hunter’s chest, especially when there was nothing he could do about it. “Sounds like a plan.” Your brow relaxed as you looked around the group with gratitude. “I can’t thank you all enough for what you’ve done in preparing for this fight.” You nodded. “And for helping to secure the area last night, after the attack.”

“It was a surprise to be sure, and certainly out of the ordinary for their strategy,” Tech responded. He did a double take as he glanced up to look at you. “It appears they got you, after all.”

Your brow furrowed at him. “What do you mean, Tech?”

Tech tilted his head. “The contusion on your neck. I assume it’s from a blade?”

That’s when Hunter found what Crosshair had earlier, and he was unable to believe he had missed it before. The mark on your neck was hard to miss, left behind where Hunter had made his refuge not long ago. Your expression somehow remained unchanged as you offered Tech a reassuring smile. Hunter could only try to keep his own reaction subtle, but his eyes had already widened when his heart fell straight into his ass. “You’re right, Tech. It was so painless that I’d nearly forgotten about it.”

Hunter raised an eyebrow at that. If you had really forgotten about it, then he would do a better job of helping you to remember next time.

Wrecker set his hand on Hunter’s shoulder again. “Oh, that’s why Hunter was so worried when I got there!” Hunter’s stare slid over to him, a silent warning that Wrecker didn’t heed. “I couldn’t see that in the dark. Glad you’re okay though, Senator.”

You bowed your head at him. “Thank you, Wrecker.”

Hunter was still focused on his brother. “Was I not supposed to be worried when the senator we’re protecting was attacked on our watch?”

“Defensive,” Crosshair murmured, his smirk returning.

“Take it easy on the sergeant this time.” Your voice was kind and void of accusation as you lifted a hand towards Crosshair. “His concern was justified. He had to see the worst of it, and had it not been for his prompt response… there would have been a very different outcome.”

The severity of your words, however soft, caused silence to blanket the group for a few long moments. Hunter’s stare found yours and he refused to look away. There was little you two had actually talked about between that moment and the last you had stolen together, and with the upcoming fight, there was no opportunity to do so anytime soon. Hunter kicked himself for not asking you how you felt about it all while he could.

“That being said, there is still much to attend to.” You smiled once again at the group. “It’s time for us to begin.”

You started to walk forward, and the squad parted for you. Your hand touched Wrecker’s shoulder as you passed him, but as it fell back to your side, it found Hunter’s. It wasn’t enough for anyone else to see, but it was much like what he had done for you during your last mission together: just enough for him to understand everything you couldn’t say.

Hunter watched you go for only a few moments longer. He couldn’t afford to look any longer, not with the eyes of his squad watching him, but it took a considerable amount of effort to peel his gaze away—especially with everything that had happened during the night and early morning.

“You heard the senator.” Hunter slid his helmet over his head and nodded at his brothers. “Let’s get going.”

As he led the way out, he was joined at his side by the squadmate who had been eerily quiet all morning. Echo’s visor looked over at Hunter just before he gave his helmet a knowing tilt. His words were low enough for only Hunter to hear. “Glad you two made up.”

Hunter and Echo had both underestimated how close Crosshair was. He was quick to chime in from his place on Hunter’s other side. “And made out.”

Hunter’s helmet snapped over to him. “Crosshair—.”

“You forgot to remove your attachment.” Hunter looked down to see that the grappling attachment on his blaster was still in place. Crosshair snickered when Hunter swung his helmet away from him with a heavy sigh. “I just hope you two were done by the time I walked through.”

Echo chuckled. “Welcome to the club, Crosshair.”

Hunter couldn’t even get a protest out before Wrecker spoke up from behind them. “Hey, what secrets are you telling them, Sarge?”

Crosshair responded over his shoulder. “Don’t worry about it, Wrecker.”

Wrecker grumbled and threw his hands up. “I don’t want to be left out again!” He shouldered Tech, who tripped a few steps at the sudden movement. “It’s always us two!”

“That is because I do not care enough to ask,” Tech insisted.

“Ouch,” Echo huffed.

“There are no ‘secrets,’” Hunter insisted, finally breaking his stunned silence. “All we’re focusing on is this mission. These aren’t battle droids, boys. We have to stay sharp.”

“Roger that, Hunter.” Wrecker pumped up a fist.“I’m ready for a challenge. Yeah!”

Tech didn’t look up from his datapad as he responded. “I don’t believe Hunter shares your enthusiasm.”

Hunter spared Tech a look over his shoulder. “What makes you say that?”

Tech glanced up to meet Hunter’s gaze. “You have been under a considerable amount of stress ever since this mission began, more than usual. I have noticed that it has only worsened today.”

Hunter fought the worried knot tied within his chest out of pure spite, now. “How would you possibly know that?”

Tech raised his brow behind his goggles. “What don’t I know, Hunter?”

Wrecker shrugged. “He’s got a point.”

Crosshair clearly couldn’t resist the opportunity to chime in. “Oh, there’s something you don’t know, all right.”

Echo provided the warning rather than Hunter. “Crosshair…”

Wrecker groaned. “I knew there was a secret!”

Tech’s gaze slid over to Crosshair unfazed. “If you are referring to Hunter’s attachment to the senator, I am well aware of it.”

Crosshair scoffed. “‘Attachment’ doesn’t begin to describe it.”

Hunter held up his fist, ordering the group to stop where they were. He closed his eyes behind his visor and took a deep breath, turning around to face his brothers. It was your words that ran through his head as he made his decision, reminding him that he wasn’t alone—not now, and not ever. Hunter removed his helmet and tucked it under his arm. “You’re right, Tech.” Hunter huffed. “In more ways than just one.”

Tech tilted his head. “That is not a surprise.”

“I’ve been putting myself under more pressure on this mission. I didn’t realize why at first, but… it’s pretty hard to ignore, now.” Hunter’s armored chest rose and fell in a deep breath as he circled his jaw and considered his words. “There’s even more to lose this time if I lead us into failure.”

Wrecker offered an indignant chuckle. “We never fail!”

“I know.” Hunter at least smiled at that. “But if something happens, then it’s not just all of you I’m risking. It’s the senator, too, and her world.” The thought pained him, as did this process of opening his heart, but your gentle encouragement from before got him through it. “And… the senator and I…” Hunter sighed, closing his eyes as he pushed the truth to the surface, “we’re pursuing a relationship.”

Stunned silence followed, but Wrecker was quick to break it with a cheer. “I knew it!”

Crosshair crossed his arms and turned to him. “No, you didn’t.” He shouldered Wrecker. “You owe me twenty credits.”

Hunter couldn’t do anything except laugh to himself as he shook his head at his brothers. There was a hand on his shoulder, and when he turned, he saw Echo standing there with a smile and a nod. “Thanks for telling us.”

“Yes, it is nice to finally have the confirmation.” Tech had even hung his datapad back on his belt as he nodded at Hunter. “I have been suspecting as much, but had no evidence to confirm my hypothesis.” His brow raised before he went on. “Not until this morning, when I caught sight of the senator’s ‘contu—.’”

“Yeah, that’s… thanks, Tech.” Hunter ran his hand over his forehead and exhaled an embarrassed breath.

Crosshair was counting Wrecker’s credits when Wrecker stepped up to set his hand on Hunter’s other shoulder. “I’m with Echo on this one, Hunter.” He gave his shoulder a squeeze that was much gentler than usual. “Thanks for trustin’ us.” Wrecker nodded, his stare never straying from Hunter’s. “We’ll make sure she’s okay.”

“Yeah.” Even Crosshair was joining in as he adjusted his rifle on his shoulder. “Wouldn’t want a failure on our record.”

Hunter huffed, raising his brow at Crosshair. That was about as heartfelt as Crosshair could get in a situation like this. “Thanks, boys.” Hunter took a deep breath and looked around the group. “I know there’s a lot left to figure out in that regard, but… for now, we’ve got to focus on this fight.”

Wrecker offered a salute, while Echo, Tech, and Crosshair all nodded. For the first time in much too long, Hunter could exhale a full breath, and his armored shoulders were already much lighter than before. Wrecker cheered again as he started to shake Hunter. “I’m so excited! We’re gonna be a royal family!”

“That’s not how that works, Wrecker,” Echo insisted as he slid his helmet back on.

“You beat me to it, Echo,” Tech remarked with a lilt of amusement.

Wrecker furrowed his brow and turned to Tech. “Whatever.” He gave his brother a rougher shove and laughed. “I’m still excited anyway!”

Hunter slid his helmet back on and grinned to himself. “Keep that excitement for this mission, Wrecker.”

Wrecker turned quickly to nod at that. “Sure thing, Sarge.”

Hunter returned his nod and turned back around. “Let’s keep going.”

It was incredible how much clarity Hunter gained from the simple confession. He hadn’t realized just how heavy the baggage of concealing such a thing from his brothers really was. Hunter took burdens as a necessary part of his leadership role, but he couldn’t help wondering if those were weights he could start sharing with his squad, even as he continued to prioritize and protect them.

What was equally as amazing was how much you were changing his perspective in such little time.

But you were convincing, Hunter had to give you that. Even just the thought of you, and especially what you had shared last night, was enough to motivate him to do just about anything. It was nice to have something true and good pushing him ahead, balancing out the concern of his brothers’ safety and the sense of duty that had been drilled into them since their earliest days on Kamino.

The squad made quick work of their scouting, seeing as the fighters weren’t doing anything out of the ordinary. All their preparations were already in place, as Hunter, Tech, and Crosshair had observed last night before returning to the capitol. Hunter was pleased with the fact he received minimal complaints from the boys about the lack of activity.

Time still passed by rather fast, and soon, the squad was heading back to the capitol for sundown. Hunter took the squad to get a meal as usual, though he dismissed himself early to find you. The weight of his brothers’ gazes still hung on him as he left, but no longer was it something he had to hide from. It was something he was learning to embrace.

Hunter arrived at the doors to your suite and knocked. He removed his helmet and shifted his weight as he waited for you to answer, and once you did, the sight of you was like a relieved breath of sweet air. Your brow furrowed as you gave him a once-over. “Hey.” Your voice was as soft as the daring touch you set upon his armored chest. “Is everything okay?”

Hunter nodded before he gestured with his eyes to your suite. “May I come in?”

You smiled at him. “You don’t have to ask.” You stepped away only to make room for him, letting him walk inside alongside you. Once the doors had closed, you wasted no time continuing your worried interrogation. “Where’s your squad?”

“Still eating.” Hunter lifted his free hand to the side of your neck, his palm brushing over the mark, and beamed at you. “I told them.”

The knit in your brow tightened before it relaxed. Your lips parted in awe as you blinked a few times up at him. “Really?”

Hunter nodded. “I thought about what you said last night, and…” he paused, looking away from you for a moment as he shrugged, “I don’t know. It just felt right.”

The smile that tugged at your lips was coated in amusement as you grasped onto him. “How’d it go?”

Hunter lifted his brow and chuckled. “As you’d expect it to.” He returned your smile. “But with plenty of support, too.”

You laughed with him. “I’m sure they already knew.”

“Almost all of them did.”

All you needed was a brief pause to think. “Wrecker?”

Hunter huffed and nodded. “He was the most excited, though.”

It was your turn to beam at him as you returned his nod. “Of course he was.” You leaned closer to him. “I look forward to getting to know them all even more.” Hunter was rewarded with a single, sweet kiss before you pulled back to add more. “But we have a fight to focus on.”

Hunter’s grasp on you became more desperate as he kept you close. “Let’s pretend we don’t.” He sought out the comfort of your lips, but broke away when you weren’t ready to receive him. “Just for now.”

You shook your head, your brow furrowed in conflict as your forehead pressed against his. “We don’t have that luxury, Hunter.” Your desperate stare found his. “Even though I wish we did.”

Hunter couldn’t give up that easily. “I know. But… just until they get back.” He searched your softening gaze and nodded. “I’ll be able to hear them.”

You were easily convinced, and Hunter thanked the stars for that. A soft smile and a nod was all Hunter saw before your mouth was on his again, taking over every one of his senses in a way he was keen on memorizing. He would need this comfort out there in the village, when he was willingly helping you face the same people who wanted you dead.

There were no guarantees on what exactly would come next, and so Hunter risked nothing. His actions now would tell you everything he couldn’t say, and for now, that would have to be enough.

chapter 6 ⟸ series masterlist ⟹ chapter 8

hunter tag list: @zenrobbins0021 @cw80831 @yunggoblin @maddiedrmr @molmcb

senator’s shadow tag list: @violetlilly2020 @jellybeanstacey0519 @dindadjarin

[mgparker]

the bodyguard- din djarin

DIN DJARIN X F!ROYAL!READER [SERIES]

summary: tensions rise as the princess of the dystopian planet eiria finally approaches the age in which she will take the throne. despite her reluctance, she finds herself under the protection of the infamous mandalorian.

warnings: female reader, given surname, implied hair length (medium to long), little mandalorian content but that’ll change in the next chapter, world building, time jumps, elusiveness (for plot development), unedited so beware

series masterlist!

*ੈ✩‧₊˚. i. a stranger in my room *ੈ✩‧₊˚.

Long before the fall of the Jedi Order, there'd been peace. Harmony amongst those who made their way in the galaxy. Tranquility and above all, happiness.

Even in these times, Eiria was such place that many people could only dream of. A planet so ethereal and utopian it was a wonder that it truly existed.

Luscious greenery covered its surface, slipping through the cracks and edges of its magnificent buildings, built on a foundation of gold. Technologically advanced in its own right, humble and simple where it mattered.

Technology was only used to ensure the safety of its citizens, otherwise Eiria was a world untouched by the horrors of the galaxy. Kept safe by its council of leaders that had been appointed and passed down along the generations.

It hadn't always been led by this council. No, Eiria was a royal world. Since its first taste of civilization, the hand of a ruler had governed the lands...

But when the former king and queen fell ill to a sickness that had wiped out over a quarter of Eiria's population over ten years ago, the leadership of the planet had fallen onto the shoulders of a council that had existed long before their reign.

All left from their rule, besides the sparkling scenery and magnificent buildings they'd had built overtime, was their daughter.

She'd been spared from the wicked disease that had claimed the lives of her parents, taken under the wing of her father's closest friend and advisor, Senator Phex Dameron.

The Princess was as stubborn as she was loyal, dedicated to her people until her last breath, a weight on her shoulders since the moment she was born. Thrust upon her the crushing responsibility of royalty, only to be spared her teenage years and emerging adulthood.

Every day, she thanked the maker that her parents had decreed she wouldn't take the throne until she had reached twenty one cycles — even if it was solely to secure that the throne would remain in their families for cycles to come. You see, a leader could be challenged if they were deemed too young to take the throne. To avoid that from happening, the King and Queen had signed into law that should need arise, the Council would take over all governing responsibilities and otherwise until the Princess was of suitable age.

At just twenty cycles old, the last Altair was on the dawn of a new age...

But along with it, came the danger.

The Princess of Eiria stares ahead, cold and calculating, teeth gritted together, seething beneath the carefully constructed surface, and swears that one day she will never have to answer to anyone again.

Before you, a panel of men, women and creatures alike, watching you with those greedy, overbearing eyes. It's not you that wears a mask, it's them. With their false pretenses, the caring acts behind worried gazes.

They don't care about you. They care about the wealth. The riches. Getting in the good graces of the Senator.

You expect he'll be elected any day now. It's only a matter of time and until then, and even after, the Council will put on those infuriating masks.

The Senator stares at you without the mask. In fact, there's no expression on his face at all. Except for the hint of pity you sense from his body language. You've known him too long to not see it right away.

A twinge of annoyance hits you. This is partly his fault-- what pity could he be feeling?

You should probably speak now. Not to the Council or to the Senator. But to him.

As angry as you were, he was only here to do his job. You'd do your best to keep him out of your path of fury.

You politely tell him your name, though it's not needed, and thank him for accepting the Senator's offer of serving as your protector.

After all, the Mandalorian will be following your every step from now on. It's best to be on civil terms for both your sanities.

You ignore everyone else in the Council Chamber.

The Mandalorian gives one curt nod.

Normally, you'd be irked by his silence but in this moment, you're grateful for it. You spin toward the door, guarded by two Jedi knights the Senator had sent for.

You bite the inside of your cheek and stride for the exit.

"Sunshine," it's the Senator. You stop. "It's for the best. You'll thank me in the future."

You don't turn around. Heavy footsteps follow behind you.

You doubt it.

It's been exactly three days since your world was further more flipped on its axis.

The remnants of grief over your recent loss had been overshadowed by the irritation you felt over the presence of the Mandalorian.

It isn't his fault. You constantly try to remind yourself, even as you furiously glare at the stupid tin helmet that rests over his head. He's just doing his job and you're not making it any easier.

It was on day three that you made this realization.

"I'm sorry if I've been... cold towards you. We’ve barely said a word since we’ve met.”

“Don’t apologize,” his raspy modulator replies stoicly. “Socializing isn’t exactly in the job description.”

You bite the inside of your cheek and glare at your own reflection in the vanity mirror you sit before. The reminder that your only regular company, other than the Senator, was here by obligation sours your attempt to befriend the Mandalorian.

“Right. Well, as much as I’ve enjoyed your silent shadow hovering over me for the past seventy-two hours, I highly doubt watching me every waking second is in your job description either.”

He stays silent, despite your bait.

You have no problem going on, combing your hair absentmindedly. “Perhaps you should be doing other things. Surely the rest of the castle requires some sort of surveillance. The Council would pay handsomely.”

“My job here is strictly to keep you under my protection, Princess.”

Your lip curls slightly. “Well, as you can see the windows are shut, my balcony bolted and the biggest threat to me at the moment is tangling my hair in this brush. So I would kindly request that your services extend to the exterior of my quarters please. I’d like some privacy please.”

You’re trying to be as polite as possible. You really are, but there’s only so much stoic silence from a metal man hovering in one of the corners of every room you enter that you could take.

All your life you’d been as independent as a member of the royal family could be. The Senator had made sure of that— and it was partly the reason you were still so angry with him over this arrangement. So going from that to this, it was not going well for you. Not at all. Especially since your new stalker didn’t seem to make any noises or speak any words beside ‘yes’, ‘no’, or some bullshit answer to any specific question you’d ask. But only if it was job-related, otherwise, he was an unmoving, nonverbal statue.

Three days with the Mandalorian and you were beginning to absolutely despise his beskar helmet and the nonexistent sense of security the Council had believed he’d bring.

This was all done for their benefit. Not yours.

You didn’t need protection before and you certainly don’t need it now. He served no purpose but to make you uncomfortable under his unbreaking gaze.

“I will be right outside the door, your Highness.”

Your eyes jolt up to him in pure surprise. You had been expecting the usual silence, for him to ignore your request as he did all the other times you’d told him you didn’t require his unwavering surveillance.

Maybe the fact that you’d pointed out every single enter and exit strategy finally convinced him, but you couldn’t know for sure. Not with that obscure helmet.

You dismiss your thoughts and almost catch yourself beaming at his reflection in the corner of your room. “Thanks,” you breathe, opting for a smaller smile, filled with gratitude.

He nods once and then leaves.

You release a breath you didn’t even know you were holding.

The first thought that crosses your mind is one you dismiss just as quickly as it arose. The small traces of adolescence that cling on to you tempt you to sneak away from the Mandalorian. Break the rules. See how far you could run before he caught up to you.

But you dismiss it. Because you’re loyal to your people and you know why he’s here despite you not agreeing to all the dramatics.

The Senator claims this is all for your protection. That coming of age and taking the throne would likely bring danger as those who wished to rule the throne would start creeping out of the hiding places they’d taken residence in since the death of your parents.

But it itches beneath your skin the longer you gaze over at the crack under your bedroom door, the shadow of his feet unmoving and steady.

You could run. Make a little game out of it. See if he’s really as qualified as Senator Dameron says he is.

You sigh quietly and set the brush down very slowly. Your heart pounds in anticipation, a plan forming in your mind.

As quickly and stealthily as possible, you slip out of your casual gown into a pair of very unladylike trousers and a tunic that you laced up tightly.

You brainstorm different ways to make your exit. Maybe you could cough or somehow force a sneeze? Some way to let your Mandalorian know you were still unsuspiciously lounging in your quarters.

You decide against it, instead doing your best to unlock your windows without making so much as a creak. Surprisingly, it’s not all too difficult.

The window swings open, both panels nearly knocking into the stone exterior of the castle but you lunge forward to grab onto them. Your momentum drives you forward with more eagerness than you intended, your feet flying from the floor, tipping out into the evening dusk with the ghost of a scream on your lips.

Something pulls you back at the feet.

Your body remains suspended, hands clutching onto the panels white-knuckled. You quickly toss a glance behind you, fully expecting to see your bodyguard standing there with his stupid beskar staring disappointedly at you.

By the sheer grace of the Maker, there’s no one behind you at all.

The only thing that saved you from plummeting to your death was your pesky iron dresser, the one that had those decorative swirls that you often knocked your ankle against.

On it, the hem of your surprisingly sturdy trousers, which were beginning to rip at the seams the longer you stood there hanging like an idiot.

Quickly, you toss yourself back to safety, freeing your hem and sheathing your small dagger you kept under your pillow. When suddenly you hear a shuffle against the door and you freeze.

Your eyes are trained on the shadow under the crack of your door. It’s the Mandalorian, thankfully just readjusting his stance.

Deciding there’s no more time to lose, you drag a hidden rope you had tied to one of the posts under your bed from your younger adventures, and carefully climb out of your window. All the while hoping the Mandalorian wouldn’t decide to check in on you at that exact moment.

As soon as your feet touch the floor, you’re off, leaving the rope and your quarters in the dust.

An elated laugh escapes you. It feels like you’re floating over the stone pavement, more free than you’ve been since before you were orphaned.

It gives you a head rush, this thrill, knowing you’re breaking every rule in the book — for the Royal Princess of Eiria was not to wander the streets unattended, much less when the sun was falling below the horizon. Senator Dameron would probably burst a blood vessel if he saw you now.

After a few minutes of aimless sprinting, you begin to see the outline of the city, lit by its posts and the torches held by the knights on guard. You eye them, trying to figure out how to get past undetected.

Suddenly, you hear the sound of hoofs against the damp grass and the panic sends you flying into a nearby bush.

Your hair gets caught, a few thorns digging into your skin, one catching onto the skin of your cheek.

“Ugh,” you complain quietly.

Between the foliage, you begin to make out the figure upon the approaching horse.

“Gwaine!”

You smile in relief, your pounding heart beginning to settle back into your heaving chest. Gwaine is one of the few people you trust within the city walls, having known him since he was a boy. He is the blacksmith’s son, currently serving as his apprentice.

You spring out of the bush, startling Gwaine’s horse but he quickly reigned her back in.

“My lady,” he nods with an amused look.

You stand awkwardly for a moment, knowing you probably looked like a disaster.

Gwaine motions towards his own hair, near his ear. “You’ve got…”

“Oh!” You quickly snatch a leaf out of your locks. “Thanks.”

He eyes you, scanning your disheveled appearance from head to toe, before looking over at the patrolling guards and then back at you.

“Do you require some sort of… uh- assistance, my lady?” He asks as if he doesn’t want to know what you’re up to this time.

Poor Gwaine. One way or another you’d always managed to drag him into your various schemes over the years. But you’d never let him take the fall for any of your antics. Never.

Doesn’t stop him from fearing the day he’d once again see you with that same mischievous, faux innocence on your face. Which was more often than you cared to admit.

He knew your look of trouble like the back of his hand.

You jolt in realization and look past him, searching for any sign of the Mandalorian.

“You know,” you sigh a little dramatically once you realize the coast is pretty much clear. “I really shouldn’t drag you into affairs of the royal family. I’ll just leave you be—”

“What is it?” He cuts through the bullshit.

“Well, if you must know, I’ve taken the liberty of paroozing the sights of the city tonight, Gwaine.”

“We both know full well you have no liberty of ‘paroozing the city’ at this hour, your Highness.”

You try to hide your flinch.

“What’s with the formalities, Gwaine?” you divert. “Would it kill you to say my name for once?”

“Eh— might.”

You follow his line of sight to the guards that were stationed across the town square.

“You’re my friend. You can address me by my name, Gwaine.”

“You sure say my name a lot,” he says cheekily. Letting up his usual formalities. You feel relieved, giving him an easy smile. It was always like this with him— he’d address you by title, do everything by the book, and you’d have to slowly break him down until he accepts that you’re his friend. Not just the Princess. Years of conditioning made him that way you guess.

“It’s a mighty fine name,” you grin.

“Why thanks.”

His horse neighs suddenly. You both snap into reality.

“Seriously, Squeak. What’re you doing outside the castle? Aren’t you under strict vigilance right now?”

Squeak. It’s his nickname he’d given you ever since you had convinced him to help you climb to the roof of the stables when you were both small children. You were convinced you could fly (‘just like a bird!’ is what you’d told him) and jumped off to prove it. Needless to say, you were very thankful there had been a comfortable amount of hay on the ground below. Since that day, Gwaine began to call you ‘Squeak’ because you had screeched just like a bird when you landed face first in the hay.

“You heard?”

“The whole kingdom heard. A Mandalorian around these parts is rare. You mustn’t be alone when the Senator has gone to such extreme lengths to have you protected.”

Protected, your ass. Where was the Mandalorian now?

“I’m not alone,” you reply. “I’m with you.”

Gwaine purses his lips and gives you a half-hearted glare. Knowing in his heart, he couldn’t leave you alone now even if he wanted to. You’d just ensnared him in a royal duty whether you meant to or not.

“Nyla, settle down,” he murmured softly to his horse, as she began to get antsy from meandering around for too long. He looked back at you. “Well, are we going to stand here and wait to be caught?”

You give him a quizzical look.

“Well, you must’ve snuck out, haven’t you? I don’t see the Mandalorian around.”

But he’d surely be around if you kept standing here all evening.

You hustle over to Nyla, taking Gwaine’s outstretched hand and hauling yourself up behind him. Securing your arms around his middle, you smile softly at the familiarity.

“Where to, Princess?” He murmurs.

“Beyond the city walls, the abandoned watch tower.”

chapter 2 >>

masterlist!

add yourself to the taglist!

[ninguitar]

　　sugar talking ──── your eyes ꣑꣒ only .

LOWKEY.　◦　❛ in which a concert you were tantalized by your friends into attending led to a one-night hook-up with band member, yu "karina" jimin, who was coincidentally a classmate, too. though incredulous and foolish, in karina's eyes, you were way too good to have you slipping through her fingers, but even so, she couldn't just act on it, leaving the two of you in an awkward predicament, keeping the feelings amidst lowkey. ❜

BACK. # NEXT PROFILES. #　

00.　　losers (stuco.)

y/n ; stuco vice pres. swears she'll post consistently every wednesday, yet she is almost always too lazy to edit her videos. is also on the badminton club for fun (also mainly because of keeho and ricky). is manon's partner-in-crime. somehow, she manages to squeeze in studying into her schedule. argues with keeho about who's the n1 sza fan.

yoon keeho ; stuco secretary. vlogs for fun ^_^ argues with y/n about being the self-proclaimed n1 sza fan and will never relent. plays badminton and is probably the most advanced out of everybody—he could even play professionally. is probably the most charismatic out of the group, along with manon. somehow knows all the drama in snhs?? his source: nobody knows.

manon bannerman ; stuco pres. she does almost everything for college apps. most charismatic in the group and is most approachable. ranked #1 in almost every subject and overall. got dragged into badminton club yet is barely hanging on. y/n's partner in crime. similar to keeho, she vlogs for fun and is usually unserious in her videos. loves, LOVES thrifting with megan, y/n, & chaewon.

megan skiendiel ; stuco pr officer. got dragged into being a part of stuco by manon and somehow got elected. likes to tease y/n about everything and anything she could and tag-teams y/n with manon. sweetest girl snhs knows. designated driver for stuco along with zhanghao. despite her long schedule, megan somehow attends most of snhs' party with ricky and kai.

shen "ricky" quanrui ; stuco treasury. keeho's and y/n's main target for teasing. known for his spectacular fashion taste all throughout snhs. singlehandely, his presence is what attracts more students to stuco events. most often seen with chaewon and zhanghao—the three of them always up to some chaos. loves, and i mean, LOVES exploring music genre, his most listened genre being r&b soul.

kim chaewon ; stuco senator. is somehow doing extraordinary well in her classes despite her desperate efforts in getting a tutor. is one of the most chaotic members in stuco, always up to something with either ricky or zhanghao. her dog is as much as a menace as she is. is practically worse than y/n at relationships—which is shown with her current "situationship" that has left her in shambles.

zhang hao ; stuco historian. somehow started getting called "zhanghao" despite his name being just hao, but nonetheless, he didn't pay much mind to it. tries to keep ricky's and chaewon's antics in check, though, often finds himself amused by them. has led competitions with manon academically, though there's no tension nor bad blood, just pure playful competition.

huening kamal kai ; stuco chairperson. makes music on the side after gaining followers from posting covers, and now posts his own songs. works hand-in-hand with kang taehyun and choi yeonjun. i fear he's the best advice giver in the group besides keeho and megan. likes to fool around at times, but usually is a no-nonsense person to keep everything in order.

A/N.　◦　hii, tysm for all the support so far for those who have tuned in !!! also, i js wanted to apologize for the long wait; i'm preoccupied with school work😭.

taglist. ୨ৎ @yeetaberry127 @yoontoonwhs @1luvkarina @sed7ction @stareaa @cceanvvaves (send an ask, or dm if you want to be tagged !! )

[thewritetofreespeech]

Hola!

Could I request Solomon defending his s/o when her older sister (very poorly) attempts to bully her?

Solomon x Reader

It was good to be home. ‘Home’ being a relative term for just being back on Earth, but the sentiment was still the same.

Though being in the Devildom was exciting, and certainly lively with the brothers & their friends, Solomon liked coming back to the mortal plane with [Y/N] to be alone. He honestly never cared what they did when they had their ‘top side’ dates, but visiting their family was usually on the list and typically pleasant. Most of the time….

“Oh [Y/N], since you’ve been in the exchange program for so long, I went in your closet to rotate a few things out. You know, to make more space and freshen things up.” Their older sister was not one of the more amenable visits they had planned for this week. Solomon had met the type before. The undercutting, faux helpful character. The kind that would smile with a knife in your back. She always came off sweet to [Y/N], but Solomon knew her intent was never that genial.

“Um…ok. You didn’t get rid of any of my stuff did you?”

“Just a few boxes. It was all stuff from like…high school.”

“Some of that ‘stuff’ is important to me! Which pieces did you get rid of?”

“I don’t know like..some of the shirts and stuff. God. Try to do something nice for you and you jump down my throat…”

“And what, pray tell, did you replace it with?” Solomon asked, getting her attention. “You said you were going to ‘freshen things up’, so what did you get [Y/N] in exchange.”

The sister looked shocked but quickly bounced back and showed [Y/N] some of what she had gotten from her phone. As expected, they were all clothes that fit her taste more than [Y/N]. “So, you cleaned out her closet to make more room for your own things. Lovely.”

The sister frowned at him. “That’s not what happened!” She insisted. “I was only trying to help! Besides, if it was so important why didn’t she just take it with her?”

“If it was so important, why didn’t you just put it in boxes for [Y/N] to review on her return, if you really only wanted to help?”

The woman growled at him and then turned to [Y/N]. “You know, I’ve been meaning to say this for a while, but we all hate your boyfriend.” Despite the conversation, Solomon grinned at the term ‘boyfriend’. “He’s always making these snide comments and passive aggressive remarks. It’s not cool!”

“Ironically, it is the very definition of ‘cool’ behavior.” Cool: to appear unfriendly and unsympathetic by not showing much emotion, especially affection. Solomon would have laughed at his own joke if tensions weren’t running a little high.

“I was just trying to help, and you’re making it out like I’m some bitch!”

“The senators of Rome were also just trying to help, and yet Ceasar is still dead.” That had been a very sad day for him as well. “But, if we are going to dissolve into foul language, I think we will take our leave. Profanity is the parlance of fools.”

Solomon stood as the sister’s jaw dropped wide enough to catch files. He sheathed his retort on that and offered his hand to [Y/N]. “Please email [Y/N] on where you sent their belongings, so we might buy them back. Even if it costs me tenfold, I will return you whole my love.” With this promise they leave the café to enjoy the rest of their Earth visit.

“You really didn’t have to say all that to her.” [Y/N] said when they were down the street.

“Why? I enjoyed it. Besides, your sister was right about one thing: she is a bitch.” He didn’t have to ‘make her out’ to be anything, and he already felt bad enough to stooping to her level. “Now, let’s go shopping until your sister texts where she sent your things.” He doubted she would, but he sent a quick text to their mother, who he had a great relationship with, to hopefully push the needle. “I’ll text Asmo for some fashion tips. He’ll be over the moon when he hears you are updating your wardrobe properly, and we’ll be on the hunt for the rest of your things.”

[popcornforone]

Strawberries On a Summer Evening

A Din Djarin Fan Fic

So turns out I’ve never written smutty Din. I’ve always had him soft or built up to him & this was never going to be smut & then the idea happened & I was like ahhh I need that. Also someone posted some art of Grogu eating strawberries on insta so it fell right into my lap.

Synopsis:- Grogu is excited the first strawberries of the season are ripe. You’re just excited your Mandalorian will be home for a few weeks.

Word Count:-3800

Warnings:- DO NOT READ IF YOU ARE UNDER 18! Unprotected PIV sex, established relationship, food & sex, cum play, nipple play, fingering, squirting, pdoa, fantasy’s, swearing, the helmet comes off. A small amount of violence & concern but nothing major or hurting any characters.

Enjoy peoples, this has been a lot of fun to write. Thanks for the read

Your little hut on the out skirts of the village is perfect. You are still apart of the community but you are hidden away. It makes it easier for your partner to come & go & for the villagers to not ask questions. You scratch their backs & they scratch yours. They weren’t happy when your clan arrived to settle but 48 hours later you were no longer strangers welcomed with a friendly smile when they realised having a Mandalorian living on their outskirts would actually keep them safe. As a daughter of a former senator, before the fall of the empire, you have a way of getting people to do what you want & it wasn’t long before the little hut you’d found was transformed for your clan to live in.

It’s early summer & you have a little vegetable & fruit patch. All the kids are amazed once every 10 days, when you bring the fresh fruit & veg to them in the town. They do grow their own but there is something about the soil a bit further out that’s more nutritious than theirs. Probably not farmed for the last hundred years & also isn’t affected by the swamp. Your face lights up one morning as you eat your breakfast as you see a red gem.

“Grogu…”

“PATU?” He replies & you rub his head & lift him up to the window sill.

“Look strawberries” he does an excited gurgle & automatically sticks his hand out to use the force, to get something to eat. You quickly grab his wrist & lower it.

“No no no Grogu” he looks at you with sad eyes. “We need to check they are ripe first & then we can go & pick some. I can make you some strawberry jam or milk?” He bounces & coos. “Good boy, let me get properly dressed & then we can go look”

Turns out only 2 were ripe that day, but you knew the rest wouldnt be too far off, so you & Grogu ate the two you picked. His lips bright red afterwards, desperately wanting another.

“Let’s keep this between us Grogu, we don’t want dad to think he missed out…”

“What did I miss out on?” Comes the modulated voice behind you & you leap up. He has a soft chuckle when he sees the state of Grogu. “Ahhh, couldn’t wait huh”

“There was only two”

“It’s okay, i can cope but i get the best strawberry next time” Grogu huffs understanding Dins word looking sad, he then also looks away as you hug him & kiss his helmet.

“Missed you”

“Missed you too, but I’m home now for the next few weeks so…” & the click under the helmet echos in the room. You automatically shut your eyes like you used to before you swore alligance to him. His gloved thumb rubs your cheek. “It’s okay remember you can now see me” & as your eyes open you automatically stare into those big brown eyes, you still get butterflies every time you look at his face, he really has no idea how handsome he is. But you make sure to let him know as your lips embrace his. He moans for once not you. “Hmm that strawberry does taste good, almost as good as you” he then chuckles & you turn around still holding onto him & his beskar & you see Grogu has his hands over his eyes. You’re not sure if he doesn’t want to see his dads face or the two of you embracing. You both suspect the latter.

8 days later Din & you are woken up to the sound of laughter, & items of clothes you would usually wear being thrown at you using the force. You’re in bed & your lush dream has been disturbed.

“Grogu” Din groans & sits up just in time to grab his helmet which was being thrown at him. “Grogu stop” it’s firm voice & he stops. He’s on top of the wardrobe in the corner of the room & he looks sad that his dad has yelled at him. You’re now fully awake, when Din uses that voice on you it’s arousing & he’s often got an ungloved hand around your throat, asking you to behave for your master.

Din gets up & gets Grogu off the wardrobe & sits him in between the two of you in bed, you’ve pulled the cover over you. Din & you had a very passionate night last night & your naked under the sheet. Din didn’t care that he got up to move Grogu in his birthday suit. He may still not show his face to others but all the while it’s just the 3 of you in the house he doesn’t care what is seen. The shy hidden away man who was (& still is to a small extent) a mystery, is now much calmer & free, less pressures in life with the occasional job.

“What is it Grogu?” You ask softly. He gargles & points out of the bedroom window. In the garden there is now a large number of ruby red strawberries waiting to be picked. You yawn & softly rub his head. “Yes strawberries, but we need to make sure they are okay first” his face drops when you say this. “But I’m sure they are” a smile creeps across his face. You then look at Din & smile as he’s slid back into bed & is stroking your bare back getting your long ginger hair out of the way, your spine tingling.

“Morning beautiful” he says as he leans over Grogu, to cup your face & slowly & sensually starts to make out with you. You moan in reply & the sudden intimate moment has Grogu leaping off the bed & running out of your room, probably to where his cot is. Not wanting to see what his Dads going to do.

“That worked” you giggle & then gasp as his thumb goes under the bedding & starts to rub your clit.

“& I know this does too”

“Fuck Din” you groan as his fat fingers slowly enter you & then after a few pulses he strums you quickly. Everything squelching. Your body trembling. You’re still sensitive from last night & you cum & bite into his bottom lip a few minutes later.

“God baby, your soaking” he says as he sucks his fingers clean.

“I’m already for one more round Din” you pant as you pull him on top of you. Your hands ruffle through his hair & as he lines himself up, you both hear a crash.

“Grogu!” You both shout in unison. Din automatically grabs his blaster & you grab the Barton he gave you & wrap yourself in the bed sheet. Both concerned for the kid & that someone might be in your house. Din also put on his helmet but nothing else so no one will see his face. You both enter the kitchen where the noise was & see that it’s just Grogu who has been using the force to get to the large bowl for collecting strawberries. He just didn’t realise he would knock stuff over as it came towards him.

“Kids hey… who’d have them” Din chuckles.

After making breakfast & you both getting dressed & trying to calm Grogu down, you eventually get in the garden & Grogu bounces to the first little bush. Din sighs as he puts on his helmet. As much as you do live a little away from the village, it’s a lovely sunny & warm day. Kids often run around flying past your little hut & he doesn’t want anyone else to see his face. The rest of his beskar is safety locked always except for his blaster, it’s in his holster. He’s in a grey tshirt & some dark blue shorts. You’re in a nice flowing summers dress, extremly thin straps, easy for him if he didn’t have his helmet on for him to kiss your soft skin, even if it’s covered in sun lotion.

“PATU… PATU!!!!” Grogu bounces & point as he holds his little bowl. You kneel next to him & pick a nice big strawberry. He goes to take it but you hold it away from him. His face drops.

“Remember we promised that Dad could have the first one this time”

“I do believe it was the best”

“Din” yous scoff & he laughs softly his modulated laughs always arouse you. He takes the strawberry from your hand & softly lifts his helmet so he can take a bite.

“Mmmm I’m not gonna complain if they are going to be that good” he says finishing it. In that time of eating it & seeing Grogu get upset you have picked 5 strawberries for the little green bean.

“See Grogu” he faces you & his eyes light up seeing you put the 5 strawberries in his bowl. “We will only give you the best” he smiles & holds one asking for permission to eat it.

“Go on kid” Din says softly & Grogu slowly eats the strawberry. His eyes widen like he’s just tasted heaven.

After about 10minutes Grogu has got bored of eating & collecting strawberries. He’s seen a frog from the end of the garden & is now chasing after it to play.

“Well that’s got to be a record” Din says as you both continue to pick.

“At least we can actually get some strawberries inside now, I plan on making Jam with them & freezing a load for some icy drinks when the temperature rises even more” you reply.

“Clever girl” Din says & you pause. It’s arousing.

“Say it again”

“My sweet clever girl” the goosebumps rise all over your skin. His modulator makes him sound sexy but what would be even sexier would be to kiss his lip.

“Din if you keep going like that, we will be distracted too.” & then you hear the click & look up from your crouched position as you pick. The helmet comes off out in the open. “Din no” you fully get up & go to grab it but he pulls it towards him so you come too.

“Yes, it’s boiling in here, no kids seem to be around, & I only have eyes for you.” He puts his helmet on the little table you’ve set up outside which has two bowls of full strawberries on & then his large thumb brushes you hair from your face. “You’re my own little red gem of desire” those are all the words he needs. The way your mouths embrace each other, as you slowly start to kiss puts you both in a trance. Your tongues moving together. It’s sweeter than any strawberry as you stand in the field & make out. Your hands roaming over his broad shoulders before wrapping around his neck. His hand is around the back of your neck as the other rests on your waist. Small moans escape you both. This could be any couple in the world right now. You’re both so in love with this moment & each other.

“Oooh beautiful” Din softly whispers before going back in, both his hands now trail down your sides, your curves gently graced by his touch, they slowly slip under the hem of your floaty dress & grip onto your arse. “Ooh baby” his fingers get into the waist band if your panties. you know you’re probably going to be lying in this field in a minute as Din plunders you. You don’t care that you’ll be sneezing for days after being that close to plants & it to be so raw. No hay-fever tablet will be able to solve this type of pollen.

“Din im…” & then you catch out of the corner of your eyes the table wobble. Both you & Din freeze unable to do a thing. You both stand there & look as Grogu try’s to use the force to get the strawberries off the table. A few strawberries fall to the floor but soon the little bowl comes off the table & lands carefully in front of him. You both sigh in admiration as he tucks in. You’re all smiles as he coos but he’s clearly too excited. It makes him radiate & the force pulses around him, shaking the table as the remaining strawberries fall to the floor & then so does the beskar helmet.

“Grogu!” Din shouts & slides towards him so the helmet doesn’t hit him, skidding along the field, hands ready for the catch. But Grogu slowly turns the helmet upside down & carefully puts it next to him & then starts to use the force to put the strawberries inside the helmet.

“Ahhh so clever Grogu” you say as Din looks up at you. His knees now covered in muck. You then help Din up who starts complaining about his back. “We can put some strawberries in there, & it will keep them cool if we do this.” You lean into your bag that’s by the table & find a cool pack & put it inside Dins helmet. “See”

“PATU”

Din chuckles as Grogu starts eating another fruit.

“You’re so clever babe” he says & hugs you as you grab the first bowl. Din kisses your cheek & you’re almost as red as the strawberries.

“I’m gonna take these inside & freeze a few” you smile & turn to walk away. As you do this Din smack your bum & winks at you.

Grogu is now on his sugar rush crash. All that running about, eating fruit, playing games, & using for force has wiped him out. You stand there & watch as Din softly lays him down in his cot, kissing his head & putting his frog toy into bed with him, slowly removing his thumb that Grogu had been clutching.

“Night kid” he says as he turns on the purple nightlight for him, before turning around to look at you. The sun is setting & you have an orange haze around you from where the light is coming in from the window. As Din faces you he sighs & smiles before he walks up to you, his large hands trace over your soft skin. “Do you know how radiant you look daring”

“No, but I can see the desire in…” you don’t get the rest of your sentence out. He’s reengaging that kiss from earlier. You moan as he bites your lip desperate to feel more, desperately wanting to feel every inch of you.

“Go lie down beautiful I have an idea” he whispers into your ear. You slowly let go of him but do as Din asks & you lie on your bed waiting for him. Din walks through the bedroom door a few moments later with a bowl.

“Are those…”you look puzzled at what Din is holding.

“Some of the frozen strawberries yes”

“Din!”

“Can’t we have some fun? For once?”

“We always have fun…”

“You know what I mean” & he puts the bowl on your bed side table. He automatically clambers over you as you start to make out on the bed. Your hair he starts with his hands but he wants more that just that smooth touch. Soon your left leg is wrapped around his bum as his hand goes inside your skimpy dress, squeezing your own arse. His bulge growing as he rocks into you. A patient lover he is to start with before the inner bounty hunter comes out, & his bounty as always is for you to squirt as he cums. He loves the look of complete euphoria on your face as when this happens. it always makes him fuck you harder.

“Din” you moan as the dress finally comes off. He has been trying to get you out of it all day. Your skin colour bra quickly removed to before he latches on to your nipple. Sucking away, a few soft nips here & there at them have you making the sweetest noises. You get more vocal when the hand that was squeezing your bum, has moved your knickers to the side & two of those long fingers easily slit inside you. Thighs trembling already. You want him. He wants you, those shorts are struggling to contain that bulge. You’re pretty sure Din is commando, the outline has been obvious for most of the day.

“Fuck din, I’m gonna cum”

“I’m not stopping you honey” he lifts his head up to speak before licking your cleavage. The scream you make shakes the bed, as you cum. He’s too good with that trigger finger. You know it’s not a full squirt but you can feel how damp you are. You lean your head back into the bed & shut your eyes for a few seconds & then your eyes open wide at a new sensation by your sex.

“Din what the… oooh fuck” Your frozen in many ways. Din has taken from the bowl a frozen strawberry & has rubbed it against your clit all the way down to your core as he slowly removed his fingers & drizzed the frozen fruit in your cum. Your mouth drops open as you see Din sit up & lick & nibble at the strawberry.

“Heaven baby” he licks his lips & then takes off his shirt & shorts, you were right with your earlier assumption. He then strokes his length a few times, pre cum dribbling out, he slowly rubs his penis against your clit to lube it up, before he grabs another frozen strawberry & does the same again. He then shuffles up to you & rubs the strawberry against your lips. “Wanna taste sexy?” You nod & slowly open your lips. “Suck first I want you to enjoy this.” You do as din asks & do some slurping noises as you suck the cum covered strawberry, hoping you don’t end up with brain freeze & in a sex haze. As you do this Din finally takes off your knickers. “Did you enjoy that baby” you nod.

“Oooh fuck Din that was, ooooh fuck” you gasp as he pushes his penis deep inside you in two rocks. The man is patient but when you’re already looking that good & oozing with arousal he’s not gonna wait, he’s slowly rocking into you. His body already sweating. All of his mandalorian tattoos will soon be glistening more than his beskar on a sunny day.

“Fuck baby” he growls before reaching into the bowl grabbing another strawberry & rubbing it instead of his thumb against your clit. He moans deeply as you clamp him harder. “Wooo babe I need to save that for when I’m ready to cum baby, I almost filled you up right there.” You laugh back as you watch Din eat that strawberry, before he gets the next one. This one feels even colder as he trails is up your boiling body & eventually starts drawing around your nipples with them: they were already erect, but now, neither of you think you’ve ever seen them so hard before.

“Fuck din” you whimper as he moves faster, he’s deep inside you, each draw out thrust teasing you to cum. Wanting to drench him & the bed sheet.

“Ooh baby” his mouth can’t resist, looking at the red residue on your breasts. He laps away as his softly licks the strawberry juice which has been left. A Tongue that licks your cunt every night, now lapping away at a forbidden fruit. His large hand once he’s done engulfs one of your breast while he feeds you some frozen strawberries. No longer methodical his movements, yous pelvis responding. Each sensitive motion being meet by moans from you both when you aren’t tasting the Delights of life be it fruit or kisses.

Eventually as his pace notches up once more which means he know he’s gonna cum soon, he places the biggest frozen strawberry from the bowl in your mouth.

“Don’t cum yet beautiful” he says softly but then the lights come on behind those eyes. The sensitive patient lover is now a sexual god. Not missing the spot for the last few minutes, your senses in over drive with each thrust. It’s not going to be long for you either. He then softly grips your neck. You gag around the strawberry. You eyes light up.”Dont cum yet beautiful, only when I take this from you”. Your hand grips to the bedding as you gag at round the strawberry in your mouth, your eyes watering, you pleasure about to explode. He so deep inside you you feel everything is about to burst. “Eyes on me” he grows. He’s a man possessed his pace blistering as your thighs trembles he doesn’t look away, to him this is you at your most beautiful, “fuck” he groans as you whimper. You then see him dip his head & kiss up your chin, his grip a little firmer. He then bites into the top of the strawberry & nods.

You don’t hold back as he does this. You cum harder than you ever have before as he removes his hand at the same time & you spiral out of control, every part of you twitching in pleasure. Your toes curling up, as you gush. You can feels the wetness seeping out already, you know your squirting.

“Fuck Din”

“Oooh fucking fuck” he cry’s after he finishes the strawberry in his mouth & his own release arrives. Flooding you with his own cum, as he slowly come to a holt. That blistering pace now just about a few slow movements. He licks his lips getting all the berry goodness from them. His hand no longer griping your throat but moving your own sweaty hair from your face. Panting fills the room. Both your body’s glistening as your hands wrap around his shoulders. You’re holding each other not saying a word but just in a moment of silence & sheer bliss.

“Din” you whisper a few minutes later.

“Yes my love” he says & you just smile back & he softly giggles & turns bright red. “Did you just want me to call you my love?”

“Maybe” you blush too & he leans down to softly kiss you. He then looks at what’s left of the bowl of strawberry, now starting to be a sloppy defrosted mess.

“Hmm I’m guessing you not gonna turn that into jam?” He says as he slowly rolls off you & automatically becomes your big spoon, nuzzling his head into your sweaty hair, not caring that he’s lying in the wet patch from you both cuming.

“Well this certainly gives strawberries & cream” you giggle.

“Yes it does baby, & I’d like to keep trying that, everytime we have a picking session”

“I’m game if you are.”

“More than game baby” he says as he kisses your neck. His deep brown eyes sparkle mischievously “I have spoken”

[caeli0306]

Chapter 3 of Violet Sorrengail's Guide to Spinning a Scandal is now up on AO3!

Chapter 2: Tell Half-Truths is now posted on AO3: READ HERE

CHAPTER 3 IS DONE AND ITS A BEAST. For those that haven't seen my other posts, this has officially been extended to four chapters bc chapter 3 just got too long (surprise surprise). For those unfamiliar, this is my @rq-gift-exchange fic for the wonderful @witch-and-her-witcher. Since I spent the last week working on VSGTSAS, castles crumbling is feeling a bit neglected, so I'm going to get that chapter 13 done before I start writing chapter 4 <3

Summary:

Violet Sorrengail is a highly effectively political crisis consultant. Xaden Riorson is poised to win his late father's old senate seat. The hatred between the two runs deep, but its been years since their fiery classroom debates in college, and Violet was certain she'd never cross paths with him again, until her expertise is required to keep doctored stories that could sink Xaden's campaign from gaining traction just before the general election.

The chemistry is off-the-charts, the tension has every other staffer fleeing when the two end up in the same room, and the fire that existed between them is as hot as ever. But as time goes on, Violet begins to realize exactly how true the saying, "There's a thin line between love and hate," really is.

===

I drop my chin into my hands, which are propped up on the island, and watch Xaden as he throws a pinch of salt into a pot full of water before placing it on the stove. He pulls out a package of ground beef from the refrigerator, along with some spaghetti sauce. I try not to laugh when he gets close enough that I can see the label.

“You live in an apartment that probably costs more than my life is worth, and you eat Prego spaghetti sauce?” I ask. “You rich boys are so weird.”

“I’ll have you know that Prego spaghetti sauce is delicious,” Xaden argues, almost defensively. It’s kind of cute – or as cute as it can be coming from a 6’4” menace who gives new meaning to the phrase ‘dark and mysterious.’

“It’s not my fault that most rich people don’t have good taste when it hits them in the face,” he continues as he begins cooking the beef in a pan along with the sauce.

This time, I cackle.

[toastyrobos]

Tasteful evening surprise (Crosshair x female reader one shot)

Word count: 2357

((Your a Senator. After a stressful day you go back to your apartment to find Crosshair waiting for you. A surprise, but a welcomed one. He and you enjoy a nice dinner and some much needed alone time. Hadn't seen each other in several rotations))

You were more then ready to rip this dress off your body. Toss it across the room and slip into something more comfortable, less form fitting. Getting dressed up was not the issue. It was the long draining hours you had to spend tied up in it that was the problem. Unfortunately that came with the territory of being a Senator for the Republic.

Most days were fine. Taken up with several meetings and involved delegations, but it was your job and you didn't mind. In fact this is what propelled you forward. Being able to do good for the millions of citizens scattered across the galaxy filled you with pride.

And you were not just one of those talk the talk ones. No. You fought and fought with your voice for the people. Especially for the ones so many in the senate tended to overlook. Every voiced mattered. Exhausted was how you found yourself at the end of the day. On more then one occasion.

Today, however you were nearly spent. Dragging yourself in the direction of your apartment. A rather heated negotiation had ended in shambles and you were just ready to concede.

Before you had even reached the door your heels were pried from your feet, resting at the side of the dress. Exhaustion rolling over you as the code was entered in. The very second the door slid open, heels were thrown aside and you nearly collapsed against the wall from how much your head was throbbing.

How the hell had one meager negotiation turn into such a disaster? Never had you experienced such a tense situation before. Raised voices was one thing, however such aggressive threatening language was not. At least not to you. Different ideologies were as common as a rainstorm, that was a given. But the way these individuals handled discussions...maker.

No. You shook your head. Now was not the time to give them another thought. Unfortunately though another round would be happening tomorrow. Tonight was about you and the cozy couch that was calling your name. Responsibilities of the day, done. Matters taken care of. All that's left to do was settle in for the evening and relax.

"Long day, doll?" You quickly jumped back, almost stumbling and falling over the train of your dress.

That voice.

Sharp brown eyes stared directly at you, taking in your formal appearance. And he liked what he saw. Always did. Especially all those Senator gowns. They only heightened how beautiful you were to the sharpshooter. After all he had a keen eye for true beauty.

"Crosshair.." you were stunned to see him here. "What are you doing here?". Sure you were that he was supposed to still be on a mission.

The corner of his lip lifted. "Not happy to see me?"

You were quick to shake your head. The opposite actually.

"That's utterly ridiculous". You scoffed. "I'm always thrilled to see you. I-I'm just surprised to see you here. I thought you were still on Raxus for several more rotations".

He merely shrugged. Not phased at all by your question. "We finished the mission early". You couldn't help the excitement that twisted in your stomach. It had been so long since you had last seen him.

His lengthy arms draped over the back of the couch, left leg crossed over his right knee. He didn't even have to try to be handsome. He just was. And bless the stars that you were able to call him yours.

Roaming his face, like your always did your eyes focused on the new scar under his eye. It was deeper then you would have liked. But there was nothing you could do about it. He was a solider after all. Bruises, cuts and gashes came with his line of work.

"I hope everything went well". You replied moving in closer to his spread out position.

"Mostly". He answered, reaching in his pocket for a toothpick.

"What happened—no, actually let me guess, Wrecker?"

He nodded, lifting himself off of the couch and came to rest his chest against your back. He slid his arms around your waist and nestled his head in the crook of your neck. Breathing in the floral smells of lavender and rose that he had came to love very much.

"Tech and Hunter were furious". He added, his lips just hovering over your exposed neck. Your insides curled, lips parted slightly.

"I can only imagine. Tech more then likely gave him the usual stern talking to". Crosshair nodded.

"Enough about the mission". He replied changing the subject. "I missed you". You spun yourself around to take in his features close up.

Then a smile broke out on your face. "I missed you too. I had expected to spend the evening alone, but it appears I won't be anymore".

The smirk he gave, that made your toes curl, finally made an appearance and you could feel your heart skip a beat.

"Lucky you".

The distance between you two was becoming increasingly smaller. You could practically feel the heated desires permeating the air as well as your quickened heartbeat.

His eyes dropped to your lips. The longing to kiss you hung in the air. Waiting to see who would close the distance between you two first. You would have certainly done it, but you were never brave enough to make the first move.

Crosshair was the one who made the first move when it came to your relationship. Particularly one day he just had had enough. He couldn't hold himself back any longer so the minute he found you, he pulled you into a small hidden corner, backed you into a wall and kissed you like he was dying of thirst and you were the only drink for miles around.

He seemed to kiss you like that every time he had an opportunity to, or just had the urge to. Now was no different. He took you in his arms and collapsed his lips down on yours. You hooked your arms around the back of neck as he gripped your hips forcefully. It was a whirlwind, kissing the sharpshooter. Every single time he left you in a daze. By the force did he electrify you.

Guess it was fitting. His name. For each time he hit his mark. Making you feel so many different emotions all at once. He really was great at his job.

"You were not kidding". You gasped, pulling away breathless.

Crosshair licked his lips. "What can I say, mesh'la. Your hard to stay away from". He confessed. "Now why don't you let me take care of you tonight".

"Sounds lovely to me". You hummed as his fingers slid up and down your arms. Keeping a rhythm that sent shivers up them. Then he began to pepper light kisses across your skin. Starting at the end of your shoulder, trailing up to your cheek. The familiar sensation warming your body. "It's been a tiring day".

The sharpshooter paused in his affections, picking up on your tone. He was aware of how difficult it was being a Senator. You rarely complained about it or went into too much detail, but he had learned a thing or two from Hunter. Being able to pick up on your exhaustion, your frustrations had become second nature to him.

Right now was no expectation. Small bags under your ears, missing heels, and sleepy tone. It had been one of those days. Though he had no idea what had happened, it mattered not. Anyone that took a shot at you or made an unfortunate comment towards you would answer to him.

Crosshair usually didn't get into fights. When he did however, it was usually in your honor. And mostly it was fighting a reg who had said something unwarranted. He became a different person when it came to you. But he loved the way you made him feel. You were the light in his war stained existence.

"Then let me take care of everything". He whispered.

"Are you staying the night?" You questioned. If he was you absolutely knew where the two of you would end up.

"I couldn't think of anything better". He answered, eye's darkening for where the evening could lead to, and unmistakably would.

Biting your bottom lip you simply nodded. Then wrapped your arms back around his neck, your bodies swaying slowly on the edge of your penthouse apartment balcony. Multi colored lights of Coruascant illuminating the environment and bathing everything in bright rainbows of color. A sight you never got tired of. Maybe never would. It was a light show of color. Golds and blues being the most dominant of all.

The way the electric blues glowed in Crosshair's irises. His eyes lighting up a color all their own.

"Then what do you have planned for this evening?" You inquired, curious to what events were awaiting for you. Hopefully none of it involved going out. However judging by Crosshair's relaxed demeanor that wouldn't be that case.

"A nice dinner prepared by yours truly followed up by just sitting here. Enjoying one another's company—"

"Hold up!" You placed your hands on his armored chest, interjecting. "Since when can you cook?"

He furrowed his brows. "I've been practicing—"

"Since when?" You questioned.

He smiled. "Tech's been showing me how". You didn't know what shocked you more. The fact that Tech knew how to cook or that Crosshair was allowing Tech to teach him...though the former seemed more plausible.

"Why has he been teaching you to cook of all things?"

Exhaling, the sharpshooter turned your hands over in his palms. Feeling the soft delicate untainted skin against his rough scarred ones.

"I wanted to. For you". The truth of his words hit you like blaster fire. And threw you for a loop.

"For me?"

He nodded. "I know we don't get to see each other often, so I wanted to do something special for you". You couldn't fathom this. "Besides I know how much you enjoy a good meal".

"A good meal". You smirked, teasing him.

"I'd be careful what you say, doll". Crosshair warned playfully, amusement rolling off his features, pushing his body forward, forcing your back into the railing, overlooking the sparkling city.

"Or you'll what?" You took the bait.

He lined his lips up with your ear and then whispered in it. "Or will skip right to dessert".

"Tempting, but I want to taste this nice dinner cooked by you".

As much as you were willing to indulge in his suggestion, you now had other plans. Other things could wait. You wanted to taste what he had made. Your curiosity was peaked.

"Then shall we?" Crosshair offered up his arm for you to take. And so you did. Linking your arm with his, you followed him down the steps of the balcony and into the kitchen area.

You watched from your seat as he started to gather up some ingredients from the fridge. Seemingly knowing his way around the floor plan already. Not that it phased you. He knew his way around your place for almost a year now.

Something about how comfortable he was here made your stomach flutter. Maybe it was the implications that it raised. Or that you could picture a future with him. In this very place. In this very room.

You were still wrapping your head around the fact that he had taken this step. You knew Crosshair was series about your relationship, but taking up cooking? That seemed so far out of his element.

That reason alone, butterflies poured into your stomach. Your heart nearly melted. He was willingly to do this for you. Willing to learn something that was out of his area of expertise and that made you happy. Warming your body inside and out.

"You really did this for me?" You just needed to be certain.

Crosshair paused his work across from you and lifted his gaze to meet yours. "Mesh'la I love you. I'd do anything for you".

Hearing those three simple, yet powerful words each time made your heart swell. "I know. It's just—"

He reached across the surface to grip your hand. "Your worth it. Always". And you believed him. You always did.

Finally accepting what he was saying you couldn't contain how giddy you felt. You swore you were acting more like a child then a full grown Senator.

"What would your brothers think if they saw how romantic you were being right now?" You grinned from ear to ear. Immediately his features changed. But hints of love still lingered.

"They won't find out because your not going to tell. Ever". His tone was firm and with it you were one hundred percent positive he meant ever word of it. Rarely did he ever not mean it.

"Of course". The smile still present as ever on your face. "Besides I rather have this side of you all to myself".

He grinned, victorious. "Glad to hear it. Because it's only ever been for you".

When his masterpiece was finally finished, he served the two of you in the comfort of the living room, the glittering view of the city as your backdrop. And maker Crosshair's first mea he cooked for you was excellent. It was savory, yet sweet. It was cooked to perfection and you wondered if that had to do with Tech's precise programming to make sure everything was done just so. Either way you ate every single morsel on the plate. That was more then enough confirmation to him that he'd get the chance to cook for the two of you again. Both of you eager for when that time would be.

In the morning he would be leaving again. Another planet in need of the Republic's help. It was unfortunate, but it was his duty, being a soldier. As being a Senator was yours. The time you two spent together was usually short and there were long stretches of time when you didn't see one another. Thus the moments the two of you had together were precious and you truly treasured dearly.

[antianakin]

The obi wan Kenobi show doesn’t work because it contradicts episode 4, which specifically states that the last time obi wan and vader met was in episode 3, having them duel again is just pointless and it contradicts an entire film, also why doesn’t Palpatine and the Empire arrest Bail Organa if they have suspicions he’s working with a Jedi? Bail Organa is smart and hes a good guy against the fascist empire and evil sith but in this show it makes him look not very smart.

I'm not sure why you're sending this message to ME, someone who's made it fairly clear that I LIKE the Kenobi show (and if I haven't, this is my definitive statement that I LOVE the Kenobi show and find it one of the best shows that D+ has released thus far), unless you're intentionally trying to start a debate/discussion about this.

I'm not going to change my mind about the Kenobi show and suddenly decide it's a bad show, so if you're trying to change my mind about it for some reason, it won't work. Much like the Prequel Trilogy, I'm perfectly willing to acknowledge the Kenobi show has flaws and isn't a perfectly written show, but it has a VISION and a PLAN, something that is all too rare within Star Wars these days.

It's also one of the VERY vanishingly few genuinely pro-Jedi and sort-of Jedi-centric stories out there. I'm unlikely to get very many of those, so Kenobi is a diamond in a rough for me. So I don't CARE what accusations people level at this show. Most of them are inaccurate or entirely based on personal taste alone. If the Kenobi show isn't for you, it isn't for you; there's PLENTY of Star Wars things that have come out that aren't for me but seem to have something in them that appeals to other people. Nothing anyone critiques about it is going to change the fact that there's a LOT I love about this show and the fact that it feels like it was made with fans like me in mind.

So if what you want is to just vent about a show that didn't work for you, maybe go to someone else to do it because you won't get it from me. (If you want to vent about, say, TBB or the Ahsoka show on the other hand, I'm exactly who you should talk to. Come vent at me about those shows any time.)

All that being said, this is my response to your specific accusations.

First, I'll address the Bail Organa thing because that just seems simpler. The ONLY person who has any suspicions that Bail is working with a Jedi during the Kenobi show is Reva, who leaves the whole Inquisitorius and the Empire by the end of the show. While there's perhaps some evidence of Obi-Wan wandering around with Leia, he's demonstrably not the person who TOOK Leia nor is he the person who RETURNED Leia, so there's zero evidence of Obi-Wan and Bail actually interacting beyond the message Bail sent to Obi-Wan that nobody saw except Reva and Obi-Wan, and that Reva took with her off of Jabiim, so it's never going to end up as evidence of anything.

The other reason Palpatine is not going after Bail Organa despite what are likely STRONG suspicions that Bail isn't loyal and is helping the Rebellion, is the same reason that the Senate doesn't get eliminated until ANH. Palpatine is still putting up a semblance of "democracy" to string people along with the idea that the Empire is a benevolent force working on behalf of the greater good. Bail is a well-known and well-liked and influential Senator on his own, AND he's the husband of the reigning monarch of Alderaan. Killing him without pretty serious evidence of wrong-doing could be a majorly bad political move for Palpatine. He also likely believes that, even if Bail IS working with the Rebellion, he's not that big of a threat. Why expend effort on killing someone who's not that big of a threat and when it might cause more people to turn against you for killing a well-liked dude without evidence of wrong-doing? What does Palpatine truly GAIN from this? He ONLY turns on Alderaan after two things happen: first, the Death Star is completed and he has a weapon that he can use to eliminate large swathes of enemies VERY quickly; second, Leia is caught working with the Rebels which implicates the entire royal family. So now not only does Palpatine have evidence of wrong-doing, he also has the means to stop CARING about what people think anyway because the Death Star means he can completely dismantle the ENTIRE SENATE and do whatever he wants to whoever he wants.

Now let's look at the accusation that the Kenobi show contradicts what's stated in ANH. Personally, I don't think it does. I'll grant that it contradicts what's IMPLIED by both ANH and ROTS and what most fans largely had assumed had happened. I'll even grant that the extra meeting during this time period is a little awkward narratively given that Obi-Wan had to win in order to survive at all but he also couldn't kill Anakin and people already had issues with this in ROTS where it's more easily explained away, so it's even harder to buy that Obi-Wan doesn't finish the job in THIS story.

But none of that means that it directly contradicts anything said in ANH. When Anakin first senses Obi-Wan's presence, all he says is he's feeling a presence he hasn't felt since... and then he fades off and never finishes that sentence. What he says during their actual fight is "I've been waiting for you, Obi-Wan. We meet again, at last. The circle is now complete... When I left you, I was but the learner; now I am the master." There's NOTHING specific in this dialogue. The bit about having been a learner when Anakin left is already contradicted by the Prequels anyway since Anakin was technically already Knighted by the time he betrays everyone and joins the Sith and the bit about having "left" Obi-Wan is again contradicted by the Prequels first since their final confrontation has Obi-Wan leave Anakin, not the other way around (unless we count the initial betrayal and joining the Sith as Anakin "leaving" but they see each other after that, so). So anything you could claim the Kenobi show "contradicted" from ANH is something the Prequels already contradicted. Anakin also makes the claim here that he's a "Master" when Anakin is actually a Sith APPRENTICE and he wasn't ever a Jedi Master, either. Anakin is someone who exaggerates and manipulates the truth of things as he wants, so everything he says has to be taken with a grain of salt anyway. He's an unreliable narrator in the extreme.

Which makes it pretty easy to just say, "Well Anakin's lying about shit because this is what he wants to believe even if it isn't true." Sure, it doesn't match with the Kenobi show, but it doesn't match the Prequels either, so unless you're about to tell me that we have to toss out the entire Prequel Trilogy (something we're ALSO not going to agree on), then I think the Kenobi show should be given a pass for this.

Finally, like I said, I DO recognize there's some awkwardness introduced to the narrative in this show. There's weird timing for things, it does go against popular assumptions, etc. But just like a lot of people have done for shows THEY wanted to enjoy, I'm willing to come up with my own headcanons to make the Kenobi show work. I tend to view the Kenobi show as more of a character exploration via metaphor than a straightforward narrative. This show and the story it's telling are SO laser-focused on Obi-Wan's journey towards reclaiming his Jedi identity that it occasionally has to do some odd things to make the narrative fall into place to allow that journey to happen in exactly the way they want it. The plot came second to the character in this case (the opposite of the Ahsoka show where the plot is very basic and straightforward but the characters were completely left by the wayside which leaves the narrative an incomprehensible mess anyway; give me more shows with flaws like the Kenobi show over shows like the Ahsoka show ANY DAY). Whenever I recommend this show to people I tell them to focus on the character journey Obi-Wan goes on and to view the show more metaphorically than literally. It works for some people, it doesn't for others.

My personal favorite headcanon for the Kenobi show is that it's a representation of Obi-Wan's personal Force Ghost test, not unlike the one we know Yoda had in TCW season 6. In that, he's sent to several different places, some real and some not, in order to face different things he has to overcome before the Force decides he's ready to learn this skill. Sometimes he's led by a specific person through the test, sometimes he's not. This isn't ENTIRELY dissimilar to what happens to Obi-Wan in the Kenobi show where he keeps bouncing to different places and being guided by different characters towards the one major thing he has to face and overcome. And while Anakin's dialogue after the mask is sliced off doesn't make a TON of sense to me as something Anakin would actually say, it works for me as something that Obi-Wan has thought about HIMSELF. Anakin isn't really Anakin here, he's a manifestation of all of Obi-Wan's pain and fears and doubts. Anakin saying that he's not Obi-Wan's failure is something the real Anakin would NEVER say (except as a way to keep separating himself from the atrocities he's done), but it IS something Obi-Wan would need to come to accept. And who better for that lesson to come from than the face of the person who betrayed him, the person who destroyed his universe.

Much like Yoda's journey took him to both real places and some that seem somewhat less real, Obi-Wan's journey could be a mixture of both real events AND some things that are a little more metaphysical. The final confrontation on that moon could perhaps be one of those metaphysical things. He's drawn to that moon and it does work to draw the Empire away from the refugees, but it's not really Anakin he sees down there or something. Does anything in the show support this? No, of course not. But nothing really makes it impossible for it to be true, either. It makes things work better for me, something I'm willing to do because there's a LOT about this show that really really fucking works for me already, so I'm willing to put in a little extra effort to smooth over the things that don't work as well into something else. If you don't like the show enough to do that work, that's fine. But then I'm not the person to come venting to about it.

[ghostofskywalker]

As Strong As You Can Make It

Commander Fox & Reader

Fictober Day 4 of 31

Words: 759

Summary: Sometimes people have odd preferences when it comes to how they take their caf, and working in a caf shop means that you've seen a lot of them. But this order seems genuinely unhealthy, and you're honestly a little worried about him.

Clone Troopers Masterlist

You found yourself continually glancing back at the doorway during every free moment you got, wondering if he would make an appearance. You had so many questions about him from the moment he first stepped into the caf shop you worked at last week, and you almost wished for his return in order to prove that he was in fact a real person and not just something your fatigued mind made up halfway through your shift. But despite all the questions you had for him, there were a few things you did know about this mysterious customer, and you listed them out in your head as you mindlessly filled cups of caf for other patrons.

One, he was a clone trooper. This was not something that was uncommon to see, you worked near the Senate building, which meant that you often saw members of the Coruscant Guard out and about on your way in and out of work. They also sometimes stopped inside for something to eat or drink, even though they always took their order to-go and rarely took off their helmets. Always the picture of politeness, you quite liked it when they came into the establishment.

While you were pouring another customer’s drink, the bells on the door jingled and you looked up to see a clone trooper step inside. His armor was decked out in red, and he had taken his helmet off as he stepped inside, which was surprising to see, though you were sure it had to be uncomfortable to wear that all day and you did not blame anyone who wanted to be rid of it for a few minutes. Even from all the way across the store, you could see the evidence of exhaustion on your face, and you knew that this was the man who had come in last time, the one you had thought your brain hallucinated.

When he got up to the counter, you smiled in greeting. “Hi! What can I help you with?”

After a polite smile crossed his face in return, and he got right to the point of his visit. “What’s the most amount of espresso you can put in a cup?”

Trying not to seem rattled (as this was a question you’d never been asked before), you tapped a few times on the datapad in front of you. “It looks like we can only give you enough to fill about half of our largest cup size.”

The trooper thought for a moment, and then nodded. “Great. I’ll have that espresso, plus fill up whatever space is left in the cup with the strongest caf you have.”

Now there was no hiding your expression. You’ve been working in a caf shop for a while, you had a pretty good tolerance for caffeine, but this order was something beyond even your tiredest dreams. However, this man looked exhausted enough, and you never questioned customers’ orders, so you just smiled and started putting the details of his request into your datapad. “Do you want any room for cream or sugar with that? And what name should I write on the cup?”

“Fox is my name, and no thank you,” he said, shaking his head. You had a suspicion that he wouldn’t be adding any cream or sugar, but you still had to ask. After he paid for the drink (which wasn’t actually as expensive as you had originally thought), he stepped over to the side to wait for it.

A few moments later you had traded places with a coworker and was now working on this trooper’s drink. Your guess was that it would probably taste like the engine oil that Republic gunships ran on, but after noticing your hesitant expression and asking if anything was wrong, he assured you that taste was not an issue. As you handed the jet-black drink to him over the counter, he smiled at you and mumbled a polite thank you before taking a sip, putting his helmet back on, and heading towards the door.

You smiled at him as he left, secretly hoping he would come in again, and maybe you’d be able to gently push him towards some better-tasting caf options (that still had a more than suitable amount of caffeine in them).

You didn’t know what demons he was facing, or what his to-do list looked like today, but you were pretty sure that after drinking that whole cup, he would be able achieve even the most difficult of tasks, and maybe even project his soul to other realms. 

- the end -

i no longer have a taglist! if you're interested in being notified when i post, you can follow my library blog @ghostofskywalker-library and turn on notifications!

[justinewt]

Semper Ad Meliora - THOSE ABOUT TO DIE Chapter Three

[THOSE ABOUT TO DIE MASTERLIST]

Previous Chapter / Next Chapter

Summary: Time passed, weeks turned into months and months into years. Soon the year of 75 CE was of the past, as so were the next three years, 76, 77, 78... bringing it all to summer 79 CE. A bond grew between Aldea and Tenax. They cared for each other. She trusted him and he made sure she was safe, and soon there was even more than mutual respect. Love, was the thing that first led Aldea to Rome, but still the last thing she thought she would actually find there.

Words: 4k

Warnings: title means "always towards better things" // Those about to die (appropriation/repetition of lines of dialogue from episode 7 "Death's bed"), 1st person (somewhat unreliable narrator - doesn't mean that she lies about the events, just that it's her recollection/perception of them), fluff

I was a freedwoman, though I wasn’t too sure that I was a Roman citizen, because of my short time as a slave but I didn’t feel Roman anyway. I was proud to be a Spaniard woman and while my people had been made Roman citizens, I didn’t care about it. I came to realize that women had no role in Roman politics – all the consuls and senators were white- or gray-haired men. But I had no “political” ambition and tried to be content with the life I had now, living with Tenax and working for him. He began to offer me to sit with him during meals and eat with him. We bonded even more during that time. The first time he told me to sit across from him at the dinner table was a few days after he made me a freedwoman and I cooked a Spaniard dish for him. He looked at it, not knowing what it was and looked back at me. I smiled and he tasted it.

“Spanish.” I said, waiting for his reaction.

“It’s good.” He then nodded and motioned for me to take a seat, which I did after a second. He told Claudia to grab a plate for me and I ate with him. He made it quite easy for me to not overthink all this. I was always busy too, so time flew by rather quickly, and in the blink of an eye it was already the end of the year and about 6 months since I arrived in Rome. The festival of Saturnalia came around, starting with a public ritual on the first day, the 17th. A sacrifice at the Temple of Saturn, which I didn’t attend. Work came to a halt for an entire week – most of the shops closed and Romans spent their times gambling, playing music and singing and giving each other gifts. I saw people take to decorating their houses and I brought it up to Tenax. Though we didn’t work, we still went to the betting tavern to take care of the kids – these orphans he had taken under his wing. They were always happy to see me, and it warmed my heart. Tenax spoke with his men while I began making wreaths with the kids, singing to them in my mother tongue.

They tried to sing along, and I taught them how to pronounce the words and on the second and third day, the tavern got very lively as we all sang, putting up the wreaths and evergreen branches around the betting tavern, lighting the candles and torches on the walls. I don’t think these romans had heard so much Spanish in their whole life, but they cheered me on. We also danced. Nica, one of the kids, made me a wreath with pretty flowers and put it on my head, like a crown. They held hands, in a circle around me and we danced and sang and laughed, a bright smile on my face. I danced as I did in Spain, swirling around, gracefully, holding my dress as it flowed around me with each step I took. I felt home. These people had become my family. I crossed eyes with Tenax as he drank wine with Scorpus and saw the latter nudge him. It made me laugh but I didn’t think much of it then.

In the final days of the festival, I gave cerei – wax candles – to Tenax and he let me set them up on the small altar he had in a cabinet. I never saw him pray – maybe he did while Claudia and I were asleep – and it was the first time I properly prayed the Roman Gods. We stood there, at the dead of night. I watched the flames dance softly and looked at him – he had his eyes closed and I watched his face, bathed in the warm orange light of the candles. When he opened his eyes, he met my gaze and I got embarrassed for staring and looked back at the altar. I quietly said I would go to bed and walked past him. As I brought the door behind me, I looked over my shoulder and locked eyes with Tenax. I closed the bedroom door, my back to it and stared into space for a minute. Claudia was sleeping in her bed, and I slipped into my bed, a little confused about what I was feeling. It got me thinking the whole night. I never liked Tenax that way. I had quite forgotten about my little crush on Scorpus and whatever bond was growing between Tenax and I was overshadowing it entirely. On the final day, Tenax came home holding something in his hand – something in a leather pouch. I was confused when he told me to open it and slipped my hand in the pouch. I felt something cold, a few thing chains and slowly pulled it out. It was a gold necklace. I tilted my head forward to look at it more closely. I had never been gifted a piece of jewelery and I was so focused on looking at it that I was yet to ask myself why Tenax would give me something like this. The chains I felt were four thin braided chains, gathered and passed through beads and pendant coins and the way they overlapped each other gave the impression there were more than 8. When I looked up, I wanted to ask how much this had cost him, but he didn’t let me. He asked me to allow him to put the necklace around my neck – not in so many words though.

“Allow me.” He quietly said. I turned around, gathering my hair in my hand and glanced at my neck as the cold metal touched my skin. I felt shivers run down my spine when his fingers brushed the back of my neck. I let go of my hair and passed my fingers under the necklace, looking down at it. It was really pretty. Back in Hispania, I didn’t have that kind of stuff. Neither did I need it, nor did we have the money for it. I did remember some jewelery that must have belonged to my grandma, but it was nothing such as this, and we ended up having to sell them anyway. The question of the cost came back in my mind. The necklace was all gold, with fine braided chains, nice beads and half a dozen literal aureus gold coins as pendant. The gold was probably his anyway, and he probably negotiated the price, but it still must have cost him.

“It must have cost you… I can pay you back, or just, don't pay me for a while—” He cut me off.

“I won’t be doing that. And you don’t need to pay me back, just take it.”

“Why this gift?”

“Blame the kids. This was their idea.” He then said, softly. I could tell he wanted to smile but kept his lips tight, the corner lifting slightly. I could also tell that while it was maybe indeed partially the kids’ idea, he had not been forced to commission it. No one could force Tenax to do anything, let alone give such a fine gift. He never gave anyone gifts, except for a few coins, and those were to pay salaries.

I chuckled, “Blame them? I like it. Thank you, Tenax.”

I wasn’t sure why but looking at him then, I thought about how pretty his eyes were – such clear blue eyes. I surely had noticed they were this colour, but it was just my whole perception of Tenax that had been shifting lately. We were both looking at each other differently but life went on and the year 76 CE came around. I wore my necklace everyday. The first time I did after the week-long festival of Saturnalia in December, the kids commented on it with excitement, and I got a compliment from Gavros and Scorpus as well – though the latter gave Tenax a smirk. One day, less than a month after receiving the necklace, I woke up in the middle of the night. I hadn’t had a nightmare about what happened on the boat in quite a while now, but it returned to me and it felt like a violent slap to the face, reminding me of something I wanted to put behind me and forget and with how busy I was everyday, I never had time to be alone with my thoughts, except at night. And I did think a lot then but for some time, it didn’t trouble my sleep. I got out of bed quietly to not wake up Claudia, taking light steps and softly pushed the bedroom door open. Looking up, I saw light coming from the altar’s cabinet and saw Tenax standing in front of it. I stopped in my tracks, not even realizing I was holding my breath and watched him from afar. He had his eyes closed, his head slightly tilted forward and was shirtless, with only his bracae on – his pair of trousers he wore under his tunic and toga – while I was just standing there in my off-white night tunic. I eventually took a step further, to close the door behind me. I initially walked out of my room to go get a cup of water – my throat felt dry – and so I did, and that’s when he saw me, as I poured myself some water.

“Trouble sleeping?” He asked.

“Just had a nightmare. It’s fine.” I brushed it off, not really in the mood to talk about it and he didn’t ask anything else. He closed the cabinet and walked over to the kitchen to sit at the table. I sat across from him, and we both kind of stared into space. I was playing around with my cup, making it roll in my hand. I was the one to break the silence and he looked at me, “I hadn't had a nightmare in a while – probably a few weeks.” I chuckled but my smile dropped quickly as I remembered said nightmare. I buried my face in my hands, pressing my fingers on my temples. “I was back on the ship…” I let one of my hands rest on the table and looked at Tenax when I felt his hand on mine. When he pulled away, unsure about his gesture, I stood up and came to stand next to his bench. He stood up as well and our faces were mere inches apart. It felt as though we were staring into each other’s soul. His hand found my shoulder, holding my arm gently. I was the one to initiate the kiss. My lips brushed off his, softly, delicately, like butterfly wings, just long enough that he could inhale my breath, feel the warmth of my skin, and the taste of my lip balm, a sweet mix of olive oil and beewax that I started wearing at night. He pressed his lips to mine and I closed my eyes, losing myself in the intimacy of this kiss, my hand finding his chest, resting right above his heart. I felt it pounding under my palm, as was mine.

I slowly pulled away, pinching my lips to contain my smile and whispered, “I should go back to bed.” His hand slid along my arm, and I walked past him, my head low as I smiled to myself. I slept well the rest of the night. No nightmares. I actually dreamt of Tenax – of our kiss. The next days, in public, we acted as if nothing had happened between us, though it seemed the kids saw through us and understood the glances we exchanged, as they sometimes giggled and whispered to each other, their hands covering their mouths as they looked at either of us from afar or then ran in different directions when we spotted them, giggling louder. At home, we shared meals as usual but at night, we met at his altar, not even to pray – he was in fact praying quite rarely – but rather to talk, eventually sitting at the table, when we couldn’t sleep, and look at each other under the moonlight coming through the window.

Eventually, I came to share his bed, and our relationship wasn’t a secret to anyone anymore, although we remained undemonstrative in public, but it seemed to be the norm among the Romans, and that suited me. I liked to keep things private. And though we shared his bed, it would be long before we would actually get intimate. I was still not ready for such things, and it seemed he understood, and I appreciated his concern and consideration. It also seemed he was rather more interested in us living together as a couple than sleep together. One night, he awoke in the middle of the night with a start, reaching for the blade he kept by his side. He was panting, scanning the room. I straightened up, looking at him worriedly, my hand going from gently squeezing his shoulder to caressing his upper cheek in an attempt to comfort him with my touch. I knew he had nightmares as regularly as I did but I was yet to know what they were about. I waited for him to be ready to tell me about them, and about his past, as I came to realize the two were related. I noticed something I had not seen the first time I saw him shirtless – an old burn scar spread across his back. He did tell me it was from a fire he escaped when he was a child, before he came to Rome, but I felt he wasn’t prepared to tell me more of the story as of yet, so I waited for him to be ready to share his past with me.

“The fire again?” It wasn’t the first time he had woken up like this since we began sleeping in the same bed.

“Yes.” Putting down his knife, he caught his breath. The apartment was silent, as was the street. The whole neighbourhood if not the city was asleep but us. Closing his eyes, he took a sharp breath, his head tilted forward. He told me about how he kept dreaming of a fire – the fire where he got those scars on his back – but he never elaborated, until then. “I haven’t told you… about my past. And I have lied to you. My real name, is Quintus. I lived with a great family when I was a boy. The master of the house… he liked boys.” I let out a quiet sigh, slipping my fingers between his, the palm of my hand on the back of his. “Myself, but mostly – Ursus. We were—” He cut himself off and continued. “Ursus and I lit a fire to escape. I got away. Ursus was caught… because of me.”

“Did he die in the fire?” I asked softly.

“Yes.” That’s what he believed, but I could tell from the tone of his voice he wasn’t totally sure and was haunted by what he had done. I caressed the back of his neck, squeezing his hand under mine.

“You did what you had to do.”

“I didn't know what I’d done.” My hand slid upwards along his neck and brushed his hair.

“Maybe. But you were a child… you didn’t know what else to do. You rarely pray, but is that what you ask for when you do? Forgiveness... for leaving him behind?” He slightly turned his face towards me, looking at me from the corner of his eyes. There was sometimes such vulnerability shining in his eyes, with his lips parted and a mix of emotions washing over his face – guilt, remorse and regret. “What happened to him isn’t your fault.”

“But it is.” He said under his breath, almost as if he didn’t want to be heard, insisting that he was fully to blame for the incident, but I disagreed.

“You – and Ursus – started the fire. It’s not your fault. You were a child, Tenax. If you want the gods to forgive you, try to forgive yourself.” His eyes twitched. It got him thinking. He didn’t believe that he deserved to be forgiven, let alone forgive himself. We closed our eyes, taking in the peace and quiet of the night, as I rested my forehead against his temple, gently kissing his cheekbone. I felt him relax against me and we lied back, holding each other. Despite the nightmares we often had, I grew to love these intimate moments, cuddling and opening up. I loved Tenax. I loved him a great deal. By this point, my heart belonged to him, and his heart to me. I even began to envision a future together. Getting married, supporting each other, maybe having children of our own – though the latter would come later. I dreaded the idea of that kind of physical intimacy, although we were both very attracted to one another. With both our pasts, it was understandable why we were uncomfortable with it. I had had experiences in the past, teen romances, almost got married when I was 17 or so, to a boy my age from my village, but he died unexpectedly and the long distance romance with the sailor, Aelius, didn’t turn out for the best but my relationship with Tenax was what I needed, and I couldn’t have expected to find it here in Rome with him, but I did and I was glad for it. I could share all the love I had, and I received just as much. I liked to see the impassible and unwavering façade he put on everyday and think to myself how he truly was on the inside. I was one of the only few to see him for who he truly was.

Summer arrived quickly, the month of Junius soon beginning with the festivals in honor of the goddess Vesta, the virgin goddess of hearth, home and family, along that of the goddess Mater Matuta, goddess of female maturation and also of dawn. As the month advanced, I thought about how I had been in Rome for 9 months. My arm was still somewhat stiff, and it could hurt if I forced it up too much, but it was more or less healed, and I had no need for the sling any longer. I had taken the habit of moving it carefully and using my other arm more and even without the sling, I kept wearing, over my stola, a palla – my cloak, which I fastened around my shoulders with brooches. I didn’t want people to notice my drooping shoulder. I was embarrassed by how out of place it looked, and I realized it was stupid. I couldn’t do anything about it. Maybe I wanted to preserve my dignitas, as Romans called it. In any case, with my arms almost fully healed, I could help around the stables more. Gavros was kind enough to let me stick around and gave me easy tasks to not use my arm too much still. Being able to move both of my arms helped at the betting tavern as well and sometimes there would be Spaniard coming to place bets and I took great pleasure in being able to talk in my mother tongue every now and then. The days succeeded each other, busy with work and regular festivals, and games and races at the Circus Maximus. I witnessed some food riots every month and avoided the crowds when they happened. They were usually diverted by races.

The year of 76 CE eventually came to an end, with another week-long festival of Saturnalia. I couldn’t believe it when I realized I had lived in Rome for almost a year and a half – 15 months, to be precise. 13 months of which I had been a freedwoman and a dozen of them of Tenax and I living as a couple. I didn’t dream of a grand wedding, if we one day got married and had heard that after a whole year of two people officially living together as a couple, it was possible to simply declare ourselves married, given they were able to provide proof of the duration of their relationship. And we could, though it wasn’t a whole year, but it was a lie Tenax couldn’t have cared less about. In the first days of Saturnalia, a year after gifting me the necklace I wore every single day, he put a ring on my finger – a gold ring with two hands holding each other engraved on top. He wore one two, as well as the signet ring he had on his index. We had a small feast at the betting tavern, with the curtains closed and no one but us, the kids, Tenax’s men, even Gavros and Scorpus were there. The children and I had already decorated the tavern with wreaths and evergreen branches, and Tenax knew of my taste for music, so he had paid a few musicians to play some music in the background as we celebrated. I sang, of course and danced with the children. It was the most beautiful day of my life and Saturnalia became my favorite festival of all. Being with Tenax, loving him and feeling loved by him, it made my homesickness and longing for my brothers more bearable.

At the dawn of the new year, I was a married woman, and a working woman still. Tenax didn’t care about my occupations as long as I was safe and though he didn’t tell me, I knew he had asked Dacia and Noro, some of his most loyal men, to keep an eye out and watch me from afar. I was well liked among his men, and I didn’t mind their protection. Life in Rome was often times dangerous, especially when associated with the underworld and a criminal such as Tenax. He had detractors, and as his wife, I could have been a target to one wanting to take revenge or take a blow at him and he refused to let that happen. He ensured that I was as safe as could be. I had to come to Rome as a slave, became a freedwoman and got married to the one man in Rome who didn’t care to subdue me. I had become aware, as I spent time in this city, that women’s freedom was all but guaranted and quite relative, with not so many rights and I was among the lucky few to have a good husband, treating me as his equal, or at least having the decency of giving me that impression. I didn’t care about politics in Rome. I still didn’t feel Roman and would never feel that way. I was a proud Spaniard woman. The only Roman I had true respect for was my husband. I had learned that Scorpus, who I knew was about as Roman as me, was actually Syrian, and Gavros wasn’t Roman either. He was from Numidia.

It was only on the kalend of the month of Martius of the year 79 CE, two months and a half away from the four-year anniversary of my rather traumatic arrival in Rome, and two years and a half since we married, that Tenax and I took our intimate moments further. I was actually the one to initiate it, not stopping at just a kiss and a few tender caresses. And he showed to be just as tender, as we laid together for the first time, though it was not my actual first time. Aelius was, and I wished he hadn’t been. I wish it had been that boy from my village. He was actually sweet and fond of me – way more deserving of such a moment with me, but the past didn’t matter anymore. What mattered was the life I built with Tenax. I remembered well that night with him, new year's celebrations, the sacred fire of Rome was renewed and the fire in Tenax and I's hearts was lit up as well. I felt both fear and excitement when a month and a half later, in the midst of Aprilis, I found that I was with child – his child. And that time, the thought of getting rid of it as I did years prior didn’t even cross my mind. I wanted it, and already loved it, and so did he. We were in bed when I told him and he didn’t expect such news at all. He approached his hand, but I gently took it and placed it on my belly, putting my hand on top of his and he pressed his lips against mine, sliding his hand across my back and grabbing onto my waist to draw me closer to him.

“How long have you known?”

“About a week or so. I wanted to be sure before telling you.” He kissed me again and I smiled, our faces a mere inch away from each other. “I’ve thought of names.”

“You have?” He chuckled, grinning amusingly.

“Fortuna, or Aeliana, if it’s a girl. After the goddess, or my sweet brother, Elia. Luck, or sun.”

“I like these options. And if it’s a boy?”

“Amatus – to love.”

“It’s perfect.” He then said in a whisper. And it was, indeed, perfect. The night I told him that I was with child, that I bore our child, was almost just as perfect as the feast we had with our friends to celebrate our union. Maybe it was true that time healed all wounds, even if not completely. Bad things happened all the time, but good things happened too – perfect, and beautiful things even.

[To be continued…]  

Previous Chapter / Next Chapter

Published (08/09/2024) by Andrea

[disappearingsisterruth]

as I suspected the finished project is too big so fuck it I'm just posting my favourite frame because I'm actually kind of happy with this silliness. The frame alone looks like a fanfic cover so please go write a fanfic that is the entire story through Livia's perspective. I have a good Livia & Tiberius fic to recommend!

Love how all the characters in the show who are mentioned to eat figs eventually find their end at Livia's hands. Augustus is the most memorable one but Julia and Postumus also have a few scenes with figs I find memorable and weirdly enough they even have a member of the Claudian family warning them, just like Livia warned him, but these do it without any irony or knowledge. Good foreshadowing in my opinion!

Antonia: What a polite boy! And how well he speaks Latin. Julia, not another fig. Julia: Figs are good for you. You sound just like Lucius. - Episode 3, Waiting in the Wings

Claudius: P-P-Poisoned? Augustus: Taste that. Postumus: Yum. Augustus: You know, there's nothing quite like a piece of food picked fresh from a tree, or a field or a stalk. Postumus: It's very nice, but you didn't ask me here to taste the figs. - Episode 4, What Shall We Do About Claudius

Livia: Are you feeling better? There's a delegation here from Rome. They're waiting to see you. Eh, you're a fine one. You made yourself worse with all those figs. I never heard anything so ridiculous. I only came on this journey to look after you, and you won't let me or anyone else cook for you. It's very embarrassing, you know. People might think we were trying to poison you. I sent for Tiberius. Fortunately, he wasn't too far away. He'll be here soon. Well, I thought you might want to see him. And he'll do everything that has to be done. Hasn't he always? Of course...you two haven't always seen eye to eye. But that hasn't been entirely his fault, you know that, don't you? You were always inclined to favor one over the other. I've often spoken to you about it. You made fish of one and foul of the other so often that no one knew where he was or what he was. You should have listened to me more. You should have. You know that, don't you? I've been right more often than you have, you know. But because I was a woman, you pushed me into the background. Oh, yes...yes, you did. And all I ever wanted was for you and for Rome. Nothing I ever did was for myself. Nothing. Only for you...and for Rome. As a Claudian should. Oh, yes, my dear. I'm a Claudian. I think you are apt to forget that at times. But I never did. No. Never. No. Tiberius: How is he? Livia: He's dead. Augustus is dead. Tiberius: The earth will shake. Livia: I must go and see the senators and the consuls from Rome. Stay with him till I return. By the way... don't touch the figs. - Episode 5, Poison is Queen

Claudius: And what about Augustus? Did you poison him? Livia: Yes. Yes, I did. I smeared the poison on the figs while they were still on the tree. I had no choice. He would only eat them if he'd picked them himself. It took me all night to do it. - Episode 7, Queen of Heaven

Also, I don't think this as an actual intended motif in the show or book but I love associating snakes to Livia.

"They say a snake bit her once and died" - Episode 2, Family Affairs

"Poison is queen" - Episode 5, Poison is Queen

the "my beloved smother" trope and how it applies to Tiberius & Livia among her saturnal impulses

the very first thing we see in the show being an adder that crawls her way through the screen on all episodes

the way she spoke of Cleopatra (who in common belief died by having a cobra bite her breast) was also kind of odd??? the tone she used was weirdly self-incriminatory even if I know she had nothing to do with it (she couldn't have, could she???)

Livilla: They say you were the most beautiful woman in the world. Livia: There was one other, but she was in Egypt. And, besides, she didn't last as long as I did.  - Episode 4, What Shall We Do About Claudius?

to some extent I can't help but think of the poisoned figs and her "encouraging" Augustus to make only a farce out of the republic and becoming the de facto emperor as somewhat similar to Eve and her forbidden fruit. Both narratives are misogynistic and I am very passionate about defending Eve but I won't deny that I really enjoy this Livia even if I find it lazy to consider her the only ambitious one when HER HUSBAND WAS LITERALLY AUGUSTUS.

If for some reason you read all this but haven't seen the show, 1. Thank you, that's nice of you, 2. Go watch it! It's free on YouTube in english, castellano, deutsch and legendado em português.