#Enterprise Crew x Reader
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This was super cute, I can't believe I haven't read it before! BIG fan of Jim just being like damn, my wife is cool and when I read "laser tag" I actually got so excited 🙌 Also I laughed super hard at "Godammit Jim", absolutely did not need a dialogue tag to know who said that 😂 loved this!!
Practice
Words: 715
Pairing: Jim Kirk x reader
Summary: The reader has been practicing her combat skills so decides to show them off.
A/N: Ugh so I fell in love with the concept then started writing it and sort of don’t know how I feel about it right now, but I wanted to write something so here we go I guess 💖💖
Request: #29 from prompt list with AOS Jim Kirk please! 💛 - Anon #29 - “How is my wife more badass than me?”
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You had no idea why everyone had agreed to Jim’s idea of playing laser tag while on shore leave. Yet here you all were in the arena. The teams had been randomly picked and you ended up on a team with Jim, Uhura, and Scotty. While the other team consisted of Spock, Bones, Chekov, and Sulu.
Keep reading
#sophie reads#fic rec#star trek fic rec#jim kirk fic rec#jim kirk x reader#captain kirk x reader#star trek x reader#star trek aos x reader#jim kirk aos x reader#star trek fanfiction#jim kirk fanfiction#captain james t kirk#the enterprise crew
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sweet, sweet silence
Vox x Autistic!GN!Reader
Dating the CEO of VoxTek Enterprises has its perks. You always get brand new devices before they even hit the shelves, and occasionally, Vox makes things specifically for you - like noise-cancelling headphones.
Word Count: 1.3k
WARNINGS: none!
A/N: this is for the autistic homies but it works for anyone with sensory issues! 'tis based off of my own experiences so apologies if it feels inaccurate to anyone, i'm projecting so hard rn. this is also my first time writing x reader/2nd person POV so I hope I did alright! also, i do requests if anyone would like to see more of this kind of thing :)
Dividers
"Doll, c'mere for a second, would ya?" Vox calls out to you, gesturing for you to come to his desk with a 'come hither' motion.
You raise a brow in interest as you approach your boyfriend where he's sitting in his rather eccentric chair, tinkering with...something. You hop up onto the desk, careful to sit in a spot that you know has no important screens or buttons (you learned the hard way). You don't say anything, instead just tilting your head and waiting for Vox to show off whatever he's been working on this time.
He finally lets you see what's in his clawed hands: a pair of headphones. They're clearly a VoxTek product—the blue and red color scheme gives it away—though you're certain you've never seen these on sale before. It's not uncommon for Vox to show off new products to you before they're released, though, so you don't question it.
He smirks as he holds the headphones out to you. It's not that sly, devious smile he so often has on his screen, though; it's that grin you have when you're about to surprise someone and you just know they're going to love it. "These are for you, darling."
On one hand, you get a little excited (free shit, fuck yeah!). But on the other, you're a little worried—you're not good at receiving gifts. It always ends up awkward because you don't really know how to express gratitude in an expected, neurotypical way. But Vox is well aware of that, and he can tell when you're grateful, so you push those worries to the side and take the headphones from him.
You look at them curiously, inspecting the foldable hinges, the ear cushions, and the small assortment of buttons on the speakers. You can tell that the three buttons on the right speaker are for adjusting the volume—increase, mute, and decrease—but you have no damn clue what the button on the left speaker is for.
"Well? Put 'em on," Vox encourages you, still with that expectant grin as he anticipates your reaction.
You do as he says and place the headphones over your ears. They're certainly comfortable, but you don't see what the big deal is. You already have headphones—they’re not great, as it’s damn near impossible to drown out the unbearably overstimulating sounds of Hell, but you manage. Kinda.
Just as you’re about to ask what’s so special about these headphones, Vox presses that mystery button on the left speaker, and everything goes blissfully quiet.
Your eyes widen as you get the first moment of true silence for the first time since you arrived in Hell. The sudden difference is initially jarring, but the relief is downright euphoric.
During the entirety of your afterlife in Hell, it's been ceaselessly loud and often unbearable. The screams, the explosions, the gunshots—it's incessant, and you never get a moment of peace. The V Tower is not nearly as bad as the rest of the Pride Ring, thanks to a lot of soundproofing, but there's always something. Moans and other lewd noises fill the halls of anywhere within five floors of Valentino's studios. You can hear the screeching and yelling beneath the thrum of music emitting from Velvette’s section of the tower. 666 Studios isn't much better, with the constant chattering of the crew and bickering between newscasters.
Vox's lair office is by far the quietest place in the entirety of Hell, at least in your experience. The soundproofing here is much more effective than anywhere else in V Tower, and Vox is the only person ever here. He does talk and maniacally laugh to himself fairly often, but you don’t usually don’t mind that (and he’ll typically quite down if he can tell you’re having a rough day). But it’s far from perfect—there’s still the intermittent click-clacking of a keyboard, the constant whirring of the computer fans, the low humming of all the tech, and the audio from whatever security camera Vox is spying on. You can tune it out most of the time, but it all overwhelms you so, so easily.
And you aren't very good at hiding it (at least not with Vox, who’s too observant for his own damn good when it comes to you).
Which is why your dear boyfriend has just spent the past several days making you the best noise-canceling headphones Hell has ever seen. He knows what the constant overstimulation does to you, and he sees it far more often than he'd like to. You get irritated and snippy, and sometimes it gets so bad you have a meltdown. It's gotten less common over time, but it still happens way too frequently for either of your likings.
“So, who’s the best boyfriend ever?” he hints, clearly fishing for a compliment. His voice is surprisingly clear despite the headphones practically deafening you—his words are muffled, but just loud enough for you to understand what’s being said. He's grinning at you like he's the one that just got the excruciatingly heartfelt present.
Usually, you’d have a witty comeback to Vox’s attempts at getting you to stroke his ego (always followed by an actual, genuine compliment to ease his insecurities hiding behind that ego), but you’re drawing a blank right now.
The gift is so thoughtful that you don’t even know where to start on expressing your gratitude. Noise-canceling headphones seem so obvious now, but this is Hell! Both you and Vox had died before this technology became commonplace, and not many people in Hell care that much about the noise. Vox made these headphones specifically for you. He doesn’t need them (he can quite literally just turn off his audio input) and he probably won’t make much of a profit with them as a VoxTek product. He’s a busy man, being a CEO and an Overlord, yet he took the time to make this for you himself, not even passing the project off to one of the poor souls that works for him.
“Babe?” Vox calls out gently, waving a hand in front of your face. Oh, shit—you’re overthinking your response so much that you forgot to actually fucking respond.
You blink a few times, meeting your boyfriend’s gaze. His brows are slightly furrowed, in what you think is a mix of concern and amusement. He’s a little worried he’s fucked up somehow, but he knows you well enough by now to recognize when you’re thinking too hard about something. He actually finds it quite adorable, at least when you’re not about to have a panic attack from it.
As he looks at you expectantly, you decide to just go with your gut (at least, that’s what you think you���re doing—you’ve never entirely understood what the fuck that phrase means).
You don’t give yourself time to second-guess your actions before you’re practically jumping into Vox’s lap—though it’s more like falling since you were just sitting on the desk. He lets out a little ‘oof’ of surprise before he chuckles and moves his hands to your waist, holding you steady while being careful of his claws. He smirks as you wrap your arms around him and bury your face in his neck, jostling the headphones a little but not enough to fuck with the noise cancellation.
“So…you like them, then?” Vox prompts, just wanting the confirmation even though the answer is already clear. You can tell by his tone that he’s still grinning proudly.
You just gently nod, inadvertently rubbing your face against the fabric of his shirt (fortunately, Vox is a fancy bastard with high standards when it comes to clothing, and he’d long ago thrown out any garment made with fabric that triggered your sensory issues).
“Thank you,” you murmur against his neck.
His hands tighten ever so slightly around your waist, and his response is so soft you can barely hear it through the headphones. “Anything for you, doll.”
#hazbin hotel#vox x reader#vox x you#hazbin hotel vox x reader#hazbin hotel vox#vox hazbin hotel#hazbin vox#vox hazbin#the vees#autistic reader#gender neutral reader#hazbin hotel x reader#hazbin vox x reader
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rager.
a donaka mark x reader x john wick disaster. 6475 words. warnings: the usual sex and violence, not necessarily in that order...
-Once upon a time, Donaka Mark might have loved you. Or at least, the closest thing to love a narcissist like him can manage. It was mostly lust, you suppose, and the novelty of discovering the unexplored corners of someone new. It didn’t take long for that to turn into possession, and the first time he let the mask slip, revealing the dark beast within, you knew you’d made a grievous error, putting yourself in this man’s hands.
He had no intention of ever letting you go.
-He liked to control every aspect of your day. What you ate. What you wore. Who you talked to. Where you went. How you exercised. How you fucked.
What had started as the most exhilarating carnal adventure of your life had devolved into degradation and fear.
You wanted to go home. The first time you told him this, he’d laughed in your face.
-He started bringing you to watch the matches in his underground fighting ring. To scare you, mostly, but maybe also to enforce what you already knew: Donaka Mark was not a man to be trifled with.
You’d been terrified, the first time you watched him snap a man’s neck for refusing to play out his demands for a live action Mortal Kombat show. After the fourth or fifth time…you just felt numb. It was later, that it scared you, when his massive hands cradled the globe of your head, and you knew he could break you like a twig. There was something about the almost clinical way he looked at you in those moments, and you were sure that deep down, a part of him wanted to.
-You are in the middle of one of your frequent spats, boarding a yacht that belongs to a Russian arms dealer, a friend of Donaka’s who greatly enjoys the illicit entertainment your paramour puts on offer. “Do you always have to be such a whore?”
You’d dared to take the hand offered you by one of the crew manning the speedboat that would ferry you out to the yacht moored in international waters. There had been a swell, and you were teetering on the four inch Red Bottoms Donaka had selected for you, and you absolutely would have fallen into the dark South China sea if the young man hadn’t caught you. Donaka was making it into something entirely fabricated by his own jealousy–lately, his favorite game, and he would punish you accordingly for his own amusement.
At the end of your rope, you foolishly snap back, “If I was a whore I’d be having a lot more fun than this.”
The fire in his eyes is like the fallout of an atom bomb. “You think so? That can be arranged, sweetheart.”
The blood in your veins turns to ice as once again, you realize your quick temper and fat mouth has pushed him too far. You try not to think about how once, it had felt like he meant it when he used that endearment for you, and how afraid you are for what he has in mind now.
-Credit where credit is due: no one throws a rager like the Russian Mob. The music is loud, the vodka flows like water, and there is dancing like this is their last night on earth. You make your way through the press of the crowd on his arm, Donaka glad handing like the charming snake he is, so very at home amongst these members of the Brotherhood, their wives, their girlfriends, and their whores. Once upon a time you would have been oblivious to it; but now, you sense the danger in the air like a coming storm. Some of the fighters in Donaka’s enterprise have this heaviness about them. A feeling that at any given moment, anything could go down. It makes your hair stand on end, and you can’t stop yourself from gripping Donaka’s arm harder. Once, he would have comforted you, patted your hand, paid you a reassuring smile that didn't quite reach his eyes. Now the glance he throws you is cold and dark and treacherous as the deepest ocean trench.
Your heart sinks like a stone.
-You enter a lounge off the main deck that is filled with couches, tables, a bar, and so many Russians. They are dressed to the nines in suits that undoubtedly cost more than an economy car, but the scars and tattoos on their skin tell you exactly who they are. There are women too, beautiful, scantily clad ones, draped across laps and posted behind chairs rubbing shoulders. The men are talking boisterously, one of them telling a story and the others laughing uproariously. One of them pantomimes aiming a gun, and the spray of blood. It wins shouts of approval, raucous triumphant laughter, and more vodka poured.
-You notice that out of this entire brigata only one man sits quietly, a silent shadow who barely smiles, nodding his head but making no sound. He is heart wrenchingly handsome, in an all black suit and tie, and when he turns his gaze to you it is as though something shifts inside you; like his midnight dark eyes can see directly into your soul. You’ve seen him before, in the crowd at Donaka’s fights, a dark tower standing behind his otets like a guard dog ready to do what he must. You’re certain he’s a killer, even though you never spoke to him, never got this close to him–even then it was like a physical thread pulled your attention from across the crowded room. You simply could not look away.
-You only manage to tear your eyes away now when Donaka starts speaking to one of the older men seated in the crowd, shaking his hand. “Viggo Mikailovich, your friends throw the best parties.”
“We do what we can, Mr. Mark.” Viggo’s eyes turn to you, assessing you up and down with his heavy gaze while asking, “Are you enjoying yourself?”
“Very much. I brought a little present for your boys.”
He pushes you firmly into the middle of the circle of the boisterously drunk men, and finally you realize what he intends as your punishment tonight. Eyes wide, you whirl to look at him, to beg him, but he’s already walking away on those long legs, smirking at you over his shoulder.
Bastard. Fucking bastard!
You don’t speak Russian, but you hear the excitement in the male voices behind you, around you, you feel the catcalls and dirty innuendos, the threat in their playful tones like oil upon your skin. You start to shake, with fear or rage, you do not know.
-You take a step as though to chase after Donaka, but an iron grip closes around your wrist. Startled, you look down to see the man in black with the soulful eyes has wrapped his–admittedly huge–hand around you. Caught in his gaze like a mouse hypnotized by a cobra, you stare down with fearful fascination. Please let me go?
The words die on your tongue. Somehow, you know they will do you no good.
You notice that the suggestive comments silenced the minute this man put a hand on you.
Who is he?
One of the men makes a plaintive statement, which the man in black answers succinctly, but with a resolve like stone. No one dares challenge him. You feel them fall back, like wolves retreating into the shadows of the trees. You look down at him, and you can hear your heartbeat thundering in your ears. You’d be a fucking fool to think he’s rescued you–but he’s not like the others. That much is clear. He holds your gaze as he kisses your knuckles without a word, and you feel your knees turn to jelly, your treacherous cunt fluttering in answer.
-He pulls you down–not unkindly, but leaving no room for argument. You find yourself slowly foldied into his lap, perched on his long legs, tucked into the warm curve of his solid torso. You know you have a screwloose, but something in the lizard part of your brain purrs, despite the bad situation you know you’re in. The lace hem of your little Dolce and Gabbana black dress has ridden up your thigh. You are flabbergasted as he smoothes it back down with a light-fingered touch. “Better?” he asks, his big hand on your knee, and you don't know why you’re surprised he speaks English. You are surprised he seems to give a damn about your comfort. “Yes. Thank you,” you say softly.
-You are practically nose to nose with this man. It’s been a long time since you were this close to a man who wasn't Donaka, the intoxicatingly warm spice of his cologne filling your nostrils. It gives the illusion of intimacy in the loud and crowded room. His answering smile is ever so slight–a barely detectable tick of the corner of his mouth.
He doesn't say anything else, turning his attention back to the revelers in his group, though his fingertips draw light, maddening lines across your bare shoulder, down your arm. You shudder, and his gaze slides back to you again. Embarrassed, you try to cover, “What are they saying?”
A long sigh escapes him, all the weight of the world in that slow expulsion of air. “You don't want to know.”
You get the feeling that this man is as tired of this world as you are, and for some crazy reason, you almost feel safe in his arms.
-You could melt into a puddle, when after a little while he turns back to you, catching your lips so gently with his that your toes curl inside your pumps. It’s like a breath of spring, like something that died in you comes back to life. There’s a slow-burning fire in his eyes, and he stands with you in his arms, setting you on your feet. “Come with me,” he says, and hand in hand you go to the bar, get a drink, and go deeper into the bowels of the boat. His friends bellow and tease him, as the two of you go. He waves them off with a little smile, answering with that brand of manly banter that translates across all languages, something in Russian to you that sounds like “Shut up, assholes.”
-You wander the crowded boat until you find a [relatively] quiet place at the stern. You lean on the gunwale together, shoulder to shoulder, watching the dark waves below as you nurse your drinks.
“So…what’s your name?” you ask, starting with the basics.
“John.”
You lift your eyebrows. “John?”
“It’s easier than Jardani.”
You look up at him, suddenly wondering how many parts of himself he's had to hide, to survive in his world.
“I can handle Jardani,” you say, and he smiles a little, but you feel like maybe you're the butt of the joke.
“What about you, pretty girl?”
“Y/n.”
He nods, peering down at you like he can mine all your secrets with a look.
“Y/n, you do not seem to belong here,” he ventures.
“I don’t think…any of the women do,” you answer. You know they’re sex workers, doing what they have to do, or what they’ve been forced to do–and you know you’re no better than any of them.
“You know what I mean. Where are you from?”
You tell him, and he nods like he already knew.
“And what did you do, before?”
“I…worked in an art gallery.” This makes him smile a little, inexplicably wistful.
“And how did Donaka Mark get his claws into you?”
“I was visiting a friend from school in Hong Kong. I met Donaka at this insanely lavish party thrown by her parents’ friends at their house on The Peak. I’d never known anyone like him, who actually talked to me like I was a person. He…was charming, and I guess…I was dazzled by it all.”
You feel like you’re making a confession to this man you do not know, but once you start you can’t stop.
“He invited me over to see his art collection, and I never really left. He asked me to stay, so I did. It was…the stupidest mistake I’ve ever made in my life, I found out.” You hate it, that tears start rolling from your eyes. It hurts to look back on the beginning, on your earnest hopes. You’d fallen in love with a foolishly open heart, blind to the red flags that you realize now were there all along. “He was good to me at first but it was just a trap. He…won’t let me leave. He won't let me see my friend, or any of her contacts. He has my passport, and he won’t let me even go near my embassy.”
You feel so fucking ridiculous, but this man just nods. Not judging you. As though he understands the way men like Donaka chew people up and spit them out all too well.
-You hug yourself, goose pimples erupting down your skin. “Are you cold?” You nod, because it’s partly true. There’s a chill that runs deeper than your skin, something physical warmth can’t touch. He motions to take off his jacket for you, but you suddenly feel bold, maybe from the drink you’d consumed, or maybe…because he seems kind. You slowly step in to snuggle into his body, sliding your arms under his jacket. He closes his eyes, enjoying it as much as you as you tuck under his chin. He strokes your hair, and eventually it's you who turns your face up, hoping for another kiss. He looks down at you with those soulful dark eyes, and its as though every cell in your body quivers with anticipation before he ducks his head, and his soft lips touch yours. It's gentle at first, but then it grows into this heady, hungry thing–you pull back with a gasp, looking up at him with your big, woodland creature eyes. Here you are again, in the arms of something that could eat you in one bite–and you want to be devoured.
If you ever make it home…you should get your head examined.
It doesn’t stop you from asking breathily, “Do you want…to go somewhere?”
He takes your meaning perfectly well, that intense gaze upon you. “Are you sure?”
You nod without hesitance, and he closes his eyes, presses his forehead to yours as though you’ve just told him something that could save his life. He knows he should refuse. You are just a pretty, soft little thing that doesn’t belong in this world. He shouldn’t even be allowed to look at you, much less touch you. But he can’t say no. You’re in his arms–and he can’t say no.
He is not a good man. He knows this very well.
He takes your hand, and leads you back to the hall, then to a stairwell, where you go down into the boat. It takes you a few tries, before you find a stateroom where you can be alone. Once inside he locks the door behind you, before pressing you into the wall with a devouring kiss that makes you see stars. That gentle man from before is not gone, but he is hungry, and you are all too happy to offer yourself up like a feast for him to devour.
“I've wanted you…since the moment I saw you,” he admits. “On that asshole’s arm, across the room at the fight…I knew you weren't happy with him.”
You make a sound that is dangerously close to a sob.
“I wanted you too,” you admit, and the fury of his answering kiss steals your breath away.
Clothes are shed, buckles and buttons undone–his solid weight presses you down into the bed while you are only wearing your panties, and his skin against yours is a divine thing. “You’re so beautiful,” he whispers against your chest, kissing your neck, your collarbone, and you could weep because it’s been a long time since you’ve heard that with any sort of tenderness in it.
“So are you,” you answer truthfully, your hands running down the ladder of his ribs, the taut muscles of his back and torso, past the perfect dimples at the small of his back and into the loosened waistband of his trousers. The firm curve of his buttocks feel like they were sculpted by God himself, or at least Michelangelo, which is close enough.
You spread your legs for him, inviting him in, and he rolls his hips against you. You want him inside you, but he is kissing down your body with something else in mind, his tongue teasing the taut peaks of you nipples.
“Can I taste you, pretty girl?” he asks, already pulling your panties down your thighs.
“Oh god,” you answer, which isn't really a negative or an affirmation. But he keeps going, and the sound you make as his tongue dips into your folds is barely human. You feel him chuckle against you, a deep rumble that resonates inside you, vibrating against your clit and you almost cum on that alone.
“John…Jardani,” you sigh as he drives you towards heaven with his tongue, teasing you with slow circles before lapping hard at your bud, a finger slipped just barely inside you. It’s so wonderful you could die.
Maybe you will, if Donaka finds out that not only did you sleep with someone else, but you enjoyed the hell out of it too. It seems his little punishment backfired, for now, but in the end he’ll make you pay somehow. He always does.
“You're going…to make me cum,” you warn him. He makes a sound inside your wet pussy that sounds like ‘Good.’
“But I want…to cum with you inside me.”
This gets his attention, this beautiful man looking up the line of your naked body at you with a sharp hunger in his midnight dark eyes.
“Are you sure?”
He presses a wet kiss to your singing clit, and you're not sure of anything.
“Yes,” you manage shakily, and he wipes his mouth on the sheets, standing to shed the rest of his clothes. You are mesmerized, watching the precise way he moves. You're grateful, when he produces a condom from his pocket, tearing the foil and rolling it on his impressive manhood. “Thank you.”
He just nods, occupied looking down at you with an intensity that nearly makes you squirm, positioning himself between your legs. His tip at your weeping entrance is a revelation; his thick length pressing inside you the best thing you’ve felt…ever, maybe. A few thrusts and he is seated completely inside you, buried to the hilt. You are incapable of keeping your eyes open, your head tilted back in bliss. But he does not move, and you feel him looking down at you, his arm around your shoulders holding you close. “John?”
He kisses you so gently it breaks your heart, his nose brushing yours. “I’m here. Are you?”
You don’t understand exactly, why fat tears roll down from the corners of your eyes.
“I don’t think…you belong here either,” you say. He seems…too kind, and you find it hard to reconcile that with the man who commands such fear in his crew that no one dares challenge him even while full to the gills with distilled liquid courage.
“I never had a choice,” he tells you quietly, and you believe that, nodding as you hide in the bed of his neck. Maybe this is a strange conversation to have, while a man is inside you, but everything feels too raw, too vivid, and your sanity teeters on a knife’s edge. You kiss his neck, breathing him in. If you’re going to die soon…at least you got to have this. Something real, and good, in the most unexpected place.
Life is so strange and cruel and sometimes–it’s wonderful.
“Please…don’t stop?”
He kisses you again, passionately, desperately, and you sense that maybe he’s close to breaking too. He groans in your mouth as he starts to move inside you, slow thrusts that allow you to savor every inch of him, his delicious girth stretching you wide. You shift your legs up, the angle tightening your hole for him, winning you a growl that sends a thrill from your spine to your aching center. His thrusts become faster, more erratic, and you think he might cum just like this. You find you crave the triumph of it, wanting to give him something to remember you by. “So fucking good for me, malyshka,” he rasps, withdrawing to guide you into turning over. His hands are so sure, so exacting as he arranges you how he wants, your ass in the air and your face in the pillows. Your pussy flutters and pulses, missing him, hungry to be filled again. You melt as you feel his kisses down your spine, and the slow pressure of him pushing inside you again. Just when you think it can’t get any better, strong, blunt fingers strum at your slippery clit, and your focus of the world narrows to wanting one thing.
“You going to cum on my big cock for me, sweetheart?”
You whine in answer, yearning, clenching around him. He shudders, thrusting deeper, making you jump. “Sorry.”
“Don’t be.”
You realize you would give this man anything, for making love to you, when for so long you’ve only felt like a thing to be used. It might be this thought, as much as his masterful manipulations and his perfect member, that fills you up with pleasure until you break, a spine-cracking orgasm ripping through you. You feel him arch back, riding you through the furious fluttering of your walls squeezing him, greedy to be filled. Soon after he cums with a shuddering groan, his big hands on your hips, fingertips digging into your tender flesh hard enough to bruise.
He collapses over you, his dead weight and searing warmth enveloping you a wonderful thing, even if you can’t breathe. He whispers something softly in Russian into your hair, sweeping it back to kiss your neck, sending a luscious shudder down your spine. Slowly as though his strength is sapped he moves to the side, tossing the condom and drawing you into his arms. The small smile he pays you, the gentle kiss he offers, and the sadness in his dark eyes feels like a slow-twisting dagger in your heart, an exquisite pain you simultaneously loathe and savor.
You know what’s coming next won’t be good, and maybe it makes this small slice of bliss with him all the more glorious. With his big hand on the back of your head he tucks you into his shoulder and the two of you doze, tangled up for just a few minutes longer in paradise together.
-A little later he wakes you, sweeping the hair from your eyes and kissing you softly. “We have to go back,” he tells you regretfully, and you nod, knowing you can’t hide here all night. The two of you dress slowly, in no hurry to return to the hedonistic revelry above. But you suspect he has a job to do, and you…can’t escape your keeper this easily. He helps you with your dress, though his strong hands on your curves through the silk just lights the fire within you all over again. You sit back to watch him with a fascination that borders on obscene, entranced by his hands on his buttons, his tie, and the deft way he secures his weapons about his trim waist. He carries a lot of firepower, for being at a party. You suppose threats to his boss can come at any time, at any place.
-Hand in hand you return topside. The party hasn’t exactly wound down, though everyone is clearly very drunk. You find that Donaka is in the lounge, speaking to Viggo Tarasov again like they are old friends. His sharp gaze takes in the two of you across the room, his eyes narrowing, and within a moment you know that he is pissed. He stands as you approach, your grip on John involuntarily tightening with fear. “Time to go,” says Donaka, in that tone that brooks no argument from his subordinates.
But when you resignedly try to walk around, John holds you a step behind him.
“I thought she was a gift?”
“Just for the evening,” Donaka clarifies, leveling an assessing gaze at the man in black.
“You should have said. I’m afraid I’ve ruined her for you.” Donaka straightens, a barely banked rage seething in his eyes, all while you press your lips, trying not to laugh out loud for the spite of it.
Oh shit.
“How unfortunate for her,” Donaka finally answers, eerily calm, next leveling his gaze upon you. You will be the one to pay the price for this embarrassment in front of all these Russian gangsters. “Come on, y/n. Play time’s over.” He holds out his hand for you, and you know if you do not obey him…he will end you.
But still, John does not let you go by.
“It’s bad manners, giving a gift to take it back.”
“I’m sorry you misunderstood.”
“I’ve heard you think you’re a warrior,” John says cooly, his words so matter of fact. “So, let’s fight for her.”
Everyone in the room goes silent, all eyes on the three of you.
“You…don’t want to do that, Mr. Mark,” says Viggo, shifting in his chair uneasily. He says something low in Russian to John, that you assume translates to ‘Give him his bitch back.’
But you know that was the worst thing to say to the man who keeps you like a toy. Donaka Mark prides himself as a fighter. He’s not a bragging man, but he does not like the thought that he can be beat, by anyone.
“We can fight,” says Donaka, looking John up and down. “But I’ll warn you, I don’t spar for points.”
A low murmur runs through the crowd at this challenge. Unruffled, John nods. “Me neither.”
You think about the dastardly things you’ve witnessed Donaka do over the past year, and you squeeze your lover’s hand, afraid. “John…” you whisper urgently. “I know he looks civilized, but…he’s a killer.”
John simply nods, answering at a volume meant only for you, “We’re all killers here, milaya.”
Maybe you suspected it was true, but you’re still afraid, if for anything just because this man has become precious to you, and that feels like a promise from the universe to hurt him somehow.
-It takes place on the main deck on the front of the yacht. Everyone gathers around, eager to see what will happen, though you can’t help but notice several of the Russians seem uncharacteristically solemn. The combatants remove their suit jackets, their ties, and roll up the sleeves of their made-to-measure shirts. It’s to be a hand to hand affair, man to man, no weapons. John leaves you with Tarasov, as though he deemed the older man a safe place for you. “You must have left quite an impression, for John Wick to fight for you,” says the mafiya king.
“I…didn’t ask him to,” you answer for some reason. And for some reason, this makes the older man snort with amusement.
-The fury of their combat is a spectacle to behold. They are evenly matched in height and weight. At first it seems like Donaka might have the upper hand, landing a few blows, but that is quickly assuaged as the kicks and punches really start to fly. You watch as the gentle man who held you so tenderly is transformed into a finely-honed fighting machine; it is both terrible and fascinating . You dig your nails into your palm as you watch, hard enough to draw blood without even realizing, you are so transfixed.
Wick twists Mark up like a pretzel in a complicated move, and maybe would have succeeded in breaking his neck had Donaka not bit him savagely. They go at it again, and when there is a flash of metal you realize Donaka has pulled a knife. You gasp at this betrayal; some of the Russians laugh, and some boo. Donaka slashes at Wick, who succeeds in jumping out of the way, a hair’s breadth ahead of the blade. Wick catches his arm, strikes his wrist, and the blade drops. They grapple, and head-butt, and Donaka manages to get John on the ground with a takedown move. He punches John, landing horrible, bloody blows. But John manages to get his legs around his opponent, flipping him. He swipes the knife, tries to drive it home, but Donaka holds him at bay. The two men hover in violent stasis, snarling at each other with bloody teeth. In a sudden burst of strength Wick strikes the knife, forcing it into Donaka’s chest, and then his throat.
You watch with horror as the man who has tormented you for the past year slowly bleeds out onto the high-polished deck of the yacht, his blood spreading beneath them in an ever-expanding pool. He is defiant to the end, baring his teeth at his killer like a tiger, but even Donaka Mark cannot survive a hole in his heart.
You look upon them, dumbfounded, feeling as though John Wick has slayed a dragon for you.
-Wearily, your hero gets to his feet, accepting a towel to wipe his face and hands before fastidiously unrolling his sleeves and buttoning his cuffs again. Only then does he turn to you, a cut bisecting his brow, his nose bloodied, his lip split. “Are you alright?” he asks, and it’s all you can do not to faint dead onto the floor.
-Wrapped up in a fluffy robe, you look out over the bird’s eye view of Victoria Harbor glittering like a blanket of aquamarines in the morning sun. Anxiously, you await John Wick’s return.
The past twelve hours have been a blur. The few security men who had accompanied Donaka surrendered and made no trouble, only wanting to leave with their lives once their meal-ticket was gone. John had bundled you off back to Hong Kong island via one of the speedboat tenders, and promptly checked the two of you into a hotel room in a lavish establishment in the Central district called The Continental. They knew him by name, did not blink at the state of his face, and immediately offered to send up a doctor and a bottle of Blanton’s finest bourbon.
You took a long hot bath together, and by your count, made love three and a half times before he left “To arrange some things.” (The half was on you–the body was willing, but the flesh weak). You feel like you've been living in a fever dream, high on a mixture of relief and disbelief.
You realize, with the benefit of hindsight, that you really had thought you were going to die.
-When finally he returns it's as though a tight knot releases in your heart. You greet him with kisses and a long embrace. He may be a seasoned killer, this man relishes being held. It's yet another thing that endears you to this man; it makes you want to never let him go. “It’s all settled,” he tells you. “I got you an open ticket. You can go home once you get your new passport from your embassy. You can stay here as long as it takes to get that taken care of.”
This news should make you ecstatic.
Instead, you stare up at him open-mouthed, gripping his arms with fingers like claws.
Finally, you remember how to fucking breathe.
“Thank you. I really can’t thank you enough, for everything.”
He smiles ruefully, brushing your hair back from your cheek. “You don't seem happy.”
You close your eyes, because this man sees everything. There's no hiding from him. “I…don’t want to leave you,” you admit point blank, quickly, before you lose your nerve.
He continues to pet your hair, like soothing an animal that's on the edge of going feral. He reads you like a book.
“Baby…you've been through so much. You need to go home.”
You nod, knowing he's right. But fuck if it doesn't feel like your heart is breaking. You've actually managed to avoid having a proper breakdown so far–postponing the inevitable, you’re sure–but fuck if there aren’t tears in your eyes. “Will I ever see you again?”
You can tell he's amused with you, even if he's sad too. Not unkindly, he says to you, “Has it occurred to you that you have terrible taste in men?”
You laugh shakily, mostly at yourself. “I don’t know. I feel like I’ve done pretty well for myself lately.”
He cups your cheeks in his hands, looking down at you like you’re something precious he’ll never see the likes of again. “I want you to promise me you’re going to go home, and fall in love with someone completely boring, and live a good, safe, life. Can you do that for me?”
You make a face. Not just at the thought of loving someone boring…but loving someone who is not him. “I will promise you…that I will look after myself with more care, when I get home.”
He sighs, having to accept it, and he kisses you so sweetly that you understand his heart is breaking too. “Maybe in another life, sweet girl, I could have been the kind of man who deserves a woman like you.”
“You’re not a bad man, John,” you insist. “You’re my hero.”
“Just this once, just for you.”
You pull him into another embrace, and you realize you are not the only one who is trembling with pent up wishes that life could be different for both of you.
“Come here,” you say, pulling on his tie. He obeys, allowing you to lead him to a chair. You know he lets you, when you playfully push him down to sit, but you'd be a liar if you pretended you didn't get a thrill out of it anyway.
“What are you up to, pretty girl?” he asks gently, a warmth in his soft brown eyes, just for you.
You kiss him lingeringly before sinking to your knees before him, sliding your hands down the length of his muscle-strapped thighs. “I want to thank you,” you say, playing the coquette to mask the fact that your heart is splintering into a thousand pieces as you speak.
“You don't have to thank me,” he tells you, cupping your cheek in his hand. You lean into his touch, savoring every second you have left with him.
“Fine, I won’t,” you say cheekily, winning a huff of laughter that feels like a coveted prize. You reach for his belt buckle, and he doesn't stop you. “But I’m still going to suck your dick.” His mouth dances as he tries not to smile– in the end he loses the battle, and then he moans as you free him from his underwear, already hard and proud in your hand.
“Baby…how am I supposed to let you go?” he rasps as you take him between your lips, swirling the glans with your tongue. You almost forgot how fun sex can be, until John found you. He claimed you, and then, he set you free. You take him all the way into your throat with gusto, moaning with him as his fingers comb into your hair, gripping lightly as you work him up and down. “Let me have you?” he whimpers. “One last time?”
You withdraw with a pop, your vision unfocused with lust as you look up at this god of a man. You know it’s batshit crazy, but you would stay by his side indefinitely if he would only let you.
He scoops you into his arms, carries you to the bed, and you make love again while he looks into your eyes. You feel like he's stolen a piece of your soul–you’ll never be the same, and you certainly know you'll carry him with you, in your heart and your memory, for the rest of your life.
-As the years go by, you honor John Wick’s request in your own way. You do take care of yourself. And, you never really allow yourself to let anyone in again. It's too disappointing, after having known a man like him, and too risky, after having known a man like Donaka Mark.
You've since moved to New York. You work as an art consultant for a large firm, basically telling rich people what to buy for the walls of their multi-million dollar residences. As tiresome as the uber-rich can be, you get to work in a field you love, and draw attention to emerging new artists who deserve it. When you return from your lunch break Tina, the receptionist, tells you that you have a walk-in who requested you specifically waiting in conference room 1. It's not really how things are done at your office, but you know better than to turn your nose up at a prospective client. You set your things down at your desk and go see what awaits you.
He’s standing at the window with his back to you, looking out over Manhattan. Even so…you would know the lines of his body in a smartly tailored suit anywhere. Suddenly, your knees feel like they might go out from under you.
“John?”
Only then does he turn, still so handsome it hurts, his hands in his pockets and his eyes still so filled with warmth for you. “Hello, y/n.”
It takes three tries to find your voice.
“What are you doing here?”
He looks down for a moment, as though shy about what he has to say. You've literally watched this man kill with his bare hands– what could he possibly feel embarrassed about with you?
He keeps his deep voice low, as though he's afraid he might spook you. “If I told you I've had a recent change in careers…would you have dinner with me?”
You close your eyes, because it's all you can do not to leap over the hand-crafted conference table. He’s all you've thought about in your free time, since the moment you parted. The memory of this man is imprinted on every cell in your body. Maybe he let you go…but you belong to him.
You realize you've been silent for a long time, when he answers sadly, “But if the answer’s no I completely understand.”
You're at work. You have a reputation to maintain. You have to act like a professional.
You forget all this, when you cross the room and fling yourself into his arms, answering his question with your mouth on his.
The rest, as you might guess, Dear Reader, is just history.😉
—-----------------
*otets - the godfather, the big boss *brigata - brigade, a crime crew in the russian mafiya *malyshka - babygirl *milaya - darling, honey
I'm pretty sure @sweetwolfcupcake planted the seed for this a while ago when she commented on my Sympathy for the Devil fic "What if John Wick entered the picture?" 🤭 And here we are. You're a genius, dear girl!!😘😘😘
#donaka mark#john wick#keanuverse#donaka mark x reader#john wick x reader#donaka mark x you#john wick x you#keanu reeves
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My Hero
Leonard McCoy x Reader
Summary: When a ground mission goes south, it's up to you to make sure the doctor makes it back safe and sound.
Character(s): Leonard "Bones" McCoy, Spock
Warning(s): Violence, Wounds, Cursing, Mild Suggestive Themes, McCoy Complaining
To say things weren't going well would be the understatement of the century. It was supposed to be an easy mission, but that's always how these stories start, huh?
The scanners indicated a series of underground caverns, ones that appeared artificial. Ruins that the archaeology department just couldn't go without exploring. Scanners also claimed there were no life forms within these caverns. The scanners were wrong.
You were the head of security aboard the USS Enterprise. As such, it was your duty to ensure the safety of the crew and perform a risk assessment. Chief Medical Officer McCoy joined you to run some scans, testing for biohazards that would put the ship at risk. Also accompanying you were two other security officers, two engineers to check the structural integrity of the tunnels, a biology officer, and an archaeology officer.
Once the entrance was found, your team discovered that the caverns were actually a sprawling ancient city built in a massive cave system. You also discovered that your communicators weren't working the deeper you traversed the city. If only that were the end of your worries. Two hours into the excursion, a loud echo of rubble falling came from the direction of the entrance. And if that wasn't enough, you were swiftly and brutally attacked by a sizable group of strangers who must have been using the city as a hideout.
In the pandemonium that followed, part of the ceiling came down and cut you off from the rest of the team. It was just you and Dr. McCoy, lost in a labyrinth of ancient ruins and unmapped caves. The doctor was a smart man, a man you greatly respected, a man you were proud to call a friend (for the most part). But he was the last person you would want to be trapped underground with. Complaints came to him as easily as breathing and with every wrong turn, his agitation only grew worse.
"I can't believe this, we just had to explore the underground city and for what? What could we possibly gain from coming down here?" Leonard grumbled.
"Knowledge about a lost civilization? Insight into what it takes for an intelligent species to naturally go extinct?" You suggested as you led him deeper into the city, careful to avoid any traps the armed strangers might have set for you.
"Who cares?! This place is a deathtrap, a goddamned asthma attack waiting to happen! We had no business sticking our nose where it didn't belong, and where did it get us?! I'll tell ya where! Trapped miles underground with an armada of murderous cave dwellers, with no way of contacting the ship!"
"Why don't you complain a little louder doctor, I can still hear myself think. And while you're at it, how about you go ahead and alert all our enemies to our exact location." You snapped, keeping your voice down despite the frustration.
Leonard huffed and looked away from you.
"Look..." You sighed, "I know this situation sucks, but losing our heads isn't going to get us out of here. I'm doing everything in my power to find our team and get back to the ship. I need you to have a little faith in me for once. Can you manage that?" You asked as calmly as possible.
"What the hell do you mean, for once?" Leonard frowned.
You hesitated, unsure if you really wanted to open that can of worms, but he had already worn down your patience. You gave in. "Come on Doctor, it's no secret you have zero trust in me as the Chief Security Officer."
"That's not-"
"There's no point in denying it now. I mean, all you ever do is criticize my work and admonish me for being reckless." You stated cooly, keeping your eyes fixed on the path before you.
"Well, what do you expect me to do when you come back from half your missions with cuts and bruises?" McCoy groused.
"I expect you to do your job and heal me, not tell me how to do mine. I'm a security officer, Injuries are par for the course I'm afraid."
"Doesn't mean you have to throw caution to the wind every chance you get. You volunteer for every single dangerous situation you can find and act surprised when it goes wrong! Seriously, it's like you and Jim have this intense, cosmic desire to play the goddamned hero and be a general pain in my ass. Has it ever crossed your mind that maybe seeing you like that bothers me?"
"You know what bothers me doctor?" You turned to look at him. "The fact that I have undergone rigorous self defense training in four kinds of martial arts, various forms of aerial combat, tech weapons, as well as training in tracking, risk assessment, reconnaissance, and mediation; yet, you still think so lowly of me as an officer that you think I'm the type of person who throws caution to the wind. I'm not careless, I don't take unnecessary risks. I want to live for a long time, but more than that, I want you and the crew to live for a long time. If that means I get bumped around every so often, that's fine by me. Of course I volunteer for all the missions. I'm the Chief Security Officer. If I wasn't the most qualified person for the job, I wouldn't be the CSO." An unreadable expression passed over Leonard's face as you spoke. "Now I'm going to do what I came down here for, and you're just going to have to be okay with that because I don't know what else I can say to get you to believe in me."
A muscle feathered in Leonard's jaw as you turned around and started walking again. The two of you had your fair share of lighthearted quarreling before, but you had never been so... angry at him.
You were right of course, danger was a part of your job and it wasn't fair of him to criticize you for being dedicated. The ship has known a lot less casualties since you arrived. In fact, your presence has made his job easier. But every time you returned to the ship battered and bleeding, Leonard grew more afraid that next time you wouldn't come back at all.
Bones had allowed his feelings for you to get in the way of his professionalism, and if your reaction was anything to go by, perhaps even your friendship as well.
You normally got along quite well. You'd share meals during breaks and join him after hours for a drink. Leonard always found it strange you never talked about your work with him, but he always chalked it up to you just needing a break from your job. Instead you both talked about your hobbies, plans for the future, memories from the past, pretty much anything and everything but your job. The only times you ever had disagreements were when you came back hurt after a mission. He always assumed you understood that his comments about your recklessness came from a place of care and concern. In retrospect, it was a stupid thing to assume.
Leonard needed to apologize, to clear up this terrible misunderstanding before your resentment grew into something unfixable.
"Y/N, I'm-"
"Shh-" You froze and held your hand up, signaling him to stop.
Leonard froze as well. Everything was quiet... too quiet. His eyes darted to you. Your hands inched toward your phaser like you were anticipating an attack he had yet to detect. You stayed that way for a few moments, eyes darting this way and that. Eventually, you relaxed your shoulders and turned back to Bones with a finger to your lips. Leonard nodded and you were both on your way again.
He had never seen you in action before. In all the time you had been on the ship together, he'd never had the pleasure of seeing first hand how you dealt with a crisis on foreign soil. He could see now how you had made such a difference. You were level-headed and confident. Even after your little spat, you were doing your job to keep him safe so diligently. Bones also noticed how quiet you were. If you weren't right in front of him, he might not have even known you were there. He watched as you expertly avoided shuffling your feet and kicking rocks. He made sure to step where you were stepping, or at least he tried to.
Leonard felt the ground give under his feet and he instantly knew he fucked up.
"God dam- AHHH!" Something snapped tight around his ankle and he hit the ground hard. Leonard felt the wind being abruptly pushed from his lungs and he couldn't decide what scared him more, the rope dragging him across the ground to god knows where, or the fact he couldn't catch his breath.
"Shit!" You gasped and pulled out your phaser. "Leonard, hold on!" You sprinted after him and shot at the rope, but it was hard to hit such a small target. Then you saw his destination. There was a massive ravine at the end of the chamber. No time for thinking.
You planted your feet firmly on the ground and aimed at the rope. You clenched your jaw hard and shot.
The beam flew.
Leonard watched the light sever the rope, just in time!
He came skidding to a stop right at the lip of the cliff.
Bones was lost in a daze of adrenaline, but luckily you had the presence of mind to drag him back.
"Doctor? Len, are you okay?" You crouched beside him and took his face in your hands.
"Just peachy! What the hell happened?!" Bones groaned and sat up, with your assistance of course.
"Looks like you activated a trap, doc." You frowned.
"How's my back?" He winced.
"You got some skid marks, but it looks like your uniform did a pretty good job protecting you. I think you'll live." You said gently. Leonard administered a hypospray to himself and you helped him up.
Looking down in the chasm, you shook your head and huffed. "Looks like we're gonna have to find another way down. Why don't you take a breather and I'll look around?"
"Breather my ass," Leonard grumbled, "You just want me out of the way so I don't step on any more goddamned traps."
"Hey, you said it. Not me," You joked.
"At least have the courtesy to deny it!" He scoffed.
You laughed and handed him your communicator, "Here, yours got all busted during your tumble. Keep trying to get in contact with the Enterprise and I'll be back before you know it. Just don't touch anything. Think you can handle that?"
"Just get out of here before I schedule all your vaccinations for tomorrow." He scowled and fiddled with the communicator.
You snickered and went on your way.
Leonard grumbled to himself as he tried to get a signal. Dammit, he was a doctor! Not an engineer! After ten minutes of nothing, he huffed and ran a hand over his face. It was no use, they were in too deep. Their only hope of rescue would be that the captain realized something was off and sent a team after them.
In the meantime, he was at least happy to have some alone time with you-
"I think I found a way down," you said, startling the doctor so badly he almost jumped out of his skin.
"Dammit Y/L/N," He stood and dusted off his rear end, "You nearly gave me a heart attack."
"You say that like it's a difficult thing to accomplish," you smirked.
"You're hilarious. Why are we going down anyway, isn't that the opposite of what we want to do?" Leonard scowled.
"Down is the only direction left to go. It's not ideal, but it's all we have. I also heard talking coming from the bottom of that chasm. It's not in a language I understand, which means it's likely the cave dwellers. If they're hanging out down there, it probably means there's a path that loops back around. We'll have to keep quiet though, don't want them to know we're following."
Leonard's heart betrayed him and decided to start beating faster of its own accord. Sure, he found it really attractive when you showed off your intelligence. Of course he thought it was enticing when you spoke confidently, like the universe bowed to your whim. Did that mean he wanted to be spellbound by your endless charisma in such a dire situation? Hell, maybe he did. He wasn't even sure anymore...
"Sound good, doctor?"
He thought back to your... conversation about him having no faith in you. "Sounds great. Lead the way," he replied.
~~~
The path down was thin and arduous. The stairs could hardly be considered stairs anymore. It was more like a damp slide made of mineral buildup. Leonard was also beginning to realize he needed to do some more intense leg workouts. There was an exercise routine that all crew members were required to follow. But regardless of the shape he was in, his ass was burning! Time to up the incline on the treadmill.
You, however, were doing just fine. Not a single slip in the wet terrain. He could tell you were moving slower to keep Leonard from falling behind, which was only slightly embarrassing.
At the bottom of the ancient waterslide, there was a pool of questionable depth. Leonard cursed under his breath. The water was dark and so was everything else, even with their flashlights. They could walk right into a 400 foot drop and they wouldn't even know it. At least the waterfall flowing nearby would mostly drown out their screams.
You turned to Leonard and held your hand out to him. Thank god it was dark, you would have seen his face light up like the fourth of July! His blush only grew when you leaned in close to his ear. "Stay close. We're gonna take it slow," you whispered. He nodded and grasped your hand tight.
You waded into the freezing water and pulled McCoy along with you. Taking careful, controlled steps forward, you searched the floor for holes. The two of you moved at a snail's pace, but Leonard hardly cared. Better to be slow and steady than fast and... reckless.
You suddenly stopped, causing McCoy's chest to slam into your back. You flailed, teetering on some unseen edge. You tried to push him back, but Leonard's arms found your waist and pulled you into him.
"Dammit. Are you okay?"
"Peachy," you huffed. "Found a hole.''
"I figured," he slowly let go and tried to peer into the water. He saw nothing but darkness. Terrifying. God damned terrifying.
"How good are you at swimming?" you asked.
"Good when I can see where I'm going."
"Want to brave the waters, or go around?"
"I'd rather not have my pants and my shirt wet if I can help it."
"Go around it is."
Turns out the hole was huge. It took a long time to trace the perimeter, but eventually you ended up on the other side. You were both dripping and freezing, but at least you weren't drowning victims. Always look on the bright side.
Once you cleared the roar of the waterfall, it was back to silence. The alien voices were getting louder and louder with each step. Leonard wouldn't be surprised if they stumbled on a gaggle of them just around the corner. You kept your phaser in hand just in case. Leonard had his out as well... but he was a doctor, not a gunslinger.
The path slowly grew more steep, traveling upward like a real-life stairway to heaven. Huh... They had to go down... to go up... Leonard wondered why anyone would design a path this way. The corridor ended in a sharp turn, which you had the presence of mind to investigate before barreling in like you owned the place. There was an alcove with five unknown people of indiscernible origin. The one thing you were sure of was that they were not Human, Vulcan, Romulan, Ferengi, Klingon, or Andorian. In fact, these guys had four arms each, so you were able to rule out a great deal of species.
Normally, you would turn around and find a different route, but this was the only way forward. Leonard watched as you checked to ensure your phaser was on the stun setting. Nope, he did not like this one bit. What if you missed?! Were you really going to take on five people at once? He grabbed your arm and shook his head. You frowned and leaned into his ear once again. "There's no other way. I don't like it either... Stay back."
McCoy reluctantly did as you said. You outranked him. He didn't really have a choice. You stepped out from around the corner and shot off exactly five blasts. The doctor didn't see the beams make contact, but he did see the aftermath and... goddamn...
"Shit, darlin'," he placed his hands on his hips as he glanced over the room. "Remind me never to piss you off."
You holstered your phaser. "We should keep going... Could you give them a scan, doctor? Just to make sure I didn't... you know."
"Say no more, I'll have this done in a jiffy."
You snorted, "jiffy?"
"Don't even start."
"Adorable," you smiled and started collecting the weapons that had been haphazardly strewn on the floor.
McCoy nearly dropped his scanner.
'Come on man, get yourself together! You're a doctor for crying out loud! Act like one!'
Leonard shook his head of all thoughts regarding the implications of your one-word compliment. Instead, he focused on the readings of the scan. Oh, looks like these people are Kaviran. Kavirans are an endangered species of nomadic planet-hoppers. They're increasingly rare to find, no wonder he didn't know who they were at a glance. All five of them seemed to be in good health.
"I reckon they'll be just fine," Leonard stood and attempted to dust off his pants. It just smeared in like mud because the fabric was still damp.
"I reckon we better be on our way then," you smirked. While he was working, you hid the weapons... somewhere. Leonard was so caught up in the scans that he didn't see where you stashed them.
Leonard trailed behind you once again, but you had picked up the pace. He wasn't complaining per se, the sooner you got out of here, the better. The hard thing was realizing just how tired he was. What time was it? How long had they been down here? Surely Jim had noticed something was off by now!
McCoy cursed under his breath and pulled out your communicator he borrowed earlier... still no signal.
"Damn useless hunk of junk," the doctor grumbled.
"Still nothing?"
"Nothing. Seriously, what's the point in carrying these things around if they never work when you need them to?"
You nodded in agreement. "At least this might push Starfleet to do an overhaul of our coms technology. We needed one, like... yesterday," you chuckled.
"You can say that again... And while they're at it, they can update our ship's scanners. This place was supposed to be empty, remember?" McCoy raised an eyebrow.
"I'll be sure to put it in my report, along with a request for waterproof shoes," you grinned back at him.
"You know, I could go for a hot shower right about now," Leonard hummed.
"Head out of the clouds please, doctor."
"My head is currently as far from the clouds as it could possibly be. I'm 2,576 meters underground."
"Where'd you pull that number from?" you chuckled.
"My ass," he grumbled.
"That sounds very unsanitary, doc."
"Well, I would have pulled it out of my medical bag, but I lost it during the cave-in."
"Oh yeah, I thought you were missing somethi- Wait... where did you get the hypo from?" you turned to look at him.
"Hypo?" he asked.
"When you got caught in the trap, you gave yourself a hypospray to help with the pain. Where did you get it from?" you asked incredulously.
"Sweetheart, a good doctor always keeps a backup in his pocket. Especially when you've been a field medic as long as I have," Leonard said.
"And how long is that?" you chuckled.
"Never ask a man his age," Leonard winked. His eyes were probably playing tricks on him... but he could have swore he saw you blush. You turned away before he could confirm his suspicions.
"I'll just look it up in your file later," you teased.
"Isn't that a breach of conduct?" the doctor huffed.
"I'll be evaluating a security risk."
"Security risk?"
"Absolutely. Can't have a dinosaur operating on the crew~"
"We're the same age, smart-ass."
"Damn, doctor. You look good for your age." You turned and winked back at him.
Now it was Leonard's turn to be flustered. He opened his mouth and closed it a few times like a fish out of water, unable to form a sentence that would make even a lick of sense. McCoy finally settled on rolling his eyes and turning his attention to the cave walls. You just laughed and faced forward again.
With how you were acting, Leonard could almost believe things were normal, that he was not hundreds of feet underground. He could almost believe he was back on the Enterprise, playing darts with you in the recreation room... He could almost believe everything was okay between you.
He had been feeling it since, have a little faith in me for once, fell from your lips. McCoy had been a doctor for years, he knew what bedside manner looked like. You were trying to keep him at ease, pretending everything was fine... but it wasn't. The jokes... the smiles... they were all just tools for de-escalation. He thought through what he had said earlier about you coming back with all the cuts and bruises. He meant what he said, it does bother him... But it wasn't what he wanted to say.
He wanted to tell you that he trusts you, that he always will. He wanted to say that... that you're the bravest person he's ever met. He wanted to take it all back. Instead of calling you reckless, he should have said that seeing you in pain hurts him more than any physical wound he'd ever had.
He should have said, I'm sorry...
He could do it now. Was now the right time? When is it appropriate to apologize? When was it not? God, Leonard was such a mess. Why was it so hard to just say sorry?! It wasn't his pride getting in the way! If it was, he wouldn't even be able to admit any wrongdoing! 'Just say it you bastard! Tell them! It's on the tip of your tongue!'
"Y/N?"
"Yes, doctor?"
He didn't have time to speak. A deep, aggressive tone echoed down the dripping cave halls. It sounded like... a war horn? You turned back to look in the direction you just came from with a grave expression.
"Len, you're gonna have to hold that thought."
~~~
He couldn't quite remember when he started running, but down the narrow passage he flew, stumbling occasionally over uneven terrain. The wind screamed in his ears. Leonard was sure he had never run so fast in his life. You were right behind him, letting him set the pace, never passing him by. He wasn't sure how long he had been going for, but his lungs burned and his legs shook with every stride. He could stand for hours during surgery, but running nonstop through a cave was a whole different ballgame for him.
Leonard could hear yelling and heavy footfalls, but was unsure of which direction they were coming from. Were they being followed, or were they running into a trap? He found his answer soon enough when he skidded to a halt in front of twenty Kavirans... twenty-one actually. Then, when he thought the situation couldn't get any worse, the five Kavirans you left behind in the tunnel came up from the rear. You were boxed in. Two against twenty-six.
You pulled McCoy behind you, phaser poised to shoot at a moment's notice. It wouldn't do him much good when the cave-dwellers decided to attack, but he appreciated the sentiment.
"Humans. Lower your weapons and you will be left unharmed." One of the Kavirans said in gurgly English.
"I will not lower my weapon until your colleagues all do the same." You said cooly.
"To make this stand would be foolish. Lower your weapon," the Kaviran you assumed was the leader reiterated.
"It is against policy to lower my weapon until I have ensured the safety of the crew in my care."
"You attacked our people in our own home. You are in no place to bargain."
"You attacked us unprovoked shortly after we arrived. If we had known this place was occupied, we would have left it alone. We were on a scientific excursion. There was no intent to do you any harm-"
"And yet, five of my people have been ambushed." The leader gestured with one of his four hands to the slightly disoriented aliens behind you.
"I have no desire to fight you. Let us pass and we will leave you in peace." You seemed to realize it at the same time Leonard did. Discussion was futile. They wanted to kill you while putting in the least amount of effort possible. If you had no weapon to fight back with, what threat could you possibly pose?
"Lower your weapon," the leader scowled.
Leonard watched your shoulders tense. You raised your chin and narrowed your eyes at the Kaviran. "Doctor?" you said.
"What is it, Y/L/N?" Leonard clenched his jaw.
"Duck."
It took him a whole three-fourths of a second to register what you were asking of him, then he hit the deck.
You Immediately opened fire, taking down six Kavirans in a matter of seconds. You missed the seventh when your wrist was seized by one of the alien's long sticks, which clamped around your arm like the jaw of a beast and flipped you onto your back. You wrenched the stick out of his hand and snapped the shin of the guy beside you.
A heavy boot just barely missed your head. You ripped the weapon from your arm and swiped it under the legs of the assailant, driving your elbow into his ribs when he hit the ground.
Someone is on you. It's a mess of limbs. Four arms to your two. Your fist rattles his jaw. Once. Twice. Again.
He's on his back, your legs straddling his stomach as you wail on him. Four hands are on your shoulders. You grab two by the wrist and twist them out with a disgusting crunch.
Something burns in your shoulder as you stand. Leonard is on the ground, clawing at an alien's eyes with one hand, reaching for his phaser with the other. You grab the Kaviran by her hair and rearrange her face with your fist.
You're blinded by a sharp pain in your temple and the sound of phaser blasts barely breaks through the ringing. Bracing yourself on a rock, you catch your breath, but only for a second. A dodge, you grab the alien's stick and clock him in the stomach, then lock him in a choke hold with it. His four arms out-maneuver yours and the weapon is pulled from your hands.
Two more guys join in. A scramble for power ensues. You endure a barrage of punches. These guys are relying on arms. You force one into the wall with your shoulder and catch another in the spine with your foot.
Heavy breathing.
Shots are ringing out. The caves are dark and the only light is from the phaser, the laser guns, and the abandoned flashlights being kicked around the cave floor in the chaos.
The rest is over and your forehead clashes with an alien skull. Your side rips open on a rock as you fall to the ground, but you don't stay down for long. You decide to go for a new tactic, less hitting, more kicking.
One of them goes for a punch, you block with your forearm and bring your knee to her side before planting a swift kick to the face. The caves echo the sound of grunts and groans, fists and feet hitting flesh, and gunfire. You don't know where your phaser is, but you could really use it right about now.
Your eyes are starting to swell and everyone is starting to tire. You're relieved to see Leonard taking cover behind a rock column. You take another down, then another. Leonard is under heavy fire. If you can get the gunmen off him, then he will be free to stun the others into submission.
You run for the first gunman and surprise him with three well placed kicks, the other fires on you and misses miserably. You reward him with a broken nose and a dirt nap.
Your attention is occupied by four Kavirans, who lunge at you all at once. You're overpowered by the strength of their doubled limbs. One is holding down your arms, two more have subdued your powerful legs, and the last is destroying your face. You manage to yank one arm free to land a few hits on your main attacker, but it doesn't last long. Four hands are crushing your neck and-
Silence.
They all slump to the floor.
You lay there, too tired to fight the dead weight of the alien on top of you.
It wasn't until Leonard appeared like an angel sent from the heavens, that you finally remembered how to breathe. He pushed the guy off you and cradled your bloody face in his hands.
"Y/N? Darlin', can you hear me?"
"Loud and clear, doc," your voice came out as a dry rasp.
McCoy pulled a hypo from his pocket. "That's really good sweetheart, can you tell me where the pain is?"
"Everywhere hurts. My legs are sore, but I can walk. My head and my ribs feel the worst. Something is definitely broken." you cleared your throat.
"I'm thinkin' you're right... any numbness?"
"Yeah, some down my right arm and near my ribs and chest." you gestured with your slightly-less-injured left arm.
"Nerve damage, nothing I can do about that until we're back on the ship," Bones hung his head and sighed in defeat. That was when you noticed a small stream of blood trickling down the side of his face. You reached up and tenderly tried to brush it away with your thumb, but you only managed to smear it.
"You're hurt... I'm sorry-" you started.
"I'm hurt?! You-" Leonard's voice betrayed him. Doctors were supposed to exude a sense of calm, but he just couldn't keep it in this time. "You're laying here in a pool of your own blood and you're worried about me?!"
"Has anyone ever told you that you have incredible bedside manner?" you winced and tried to sit up, but he pushed you back down.
"Don't. You. Even. Dare," he narrowed his eyes at you, pulled out his tri-corder, and snatched one of the rogue flashlights from the floor. The scan results made him want to rip his hair out. Your whole body was basically covered in one big bruise. Five broken ribs, a broken nose, several major lacerations, laser wounds, and a massive concussion. That wasn't even close to all of it, but one thing at a time.
He injected you with his last spare hypospray. Leonard really wished he had his goddamned kit right about now. The gashes in your side needed to be closed somehow. You were losing too much blood with the wound open like that. No auto-suture, no thread and needle, no bandages. There was only one option. Cauterization.
"Stay," Leonard ordered before grabbing a laser off of a fallen Kaviran and one of the metal sticks from the floor. The doctor blasted the end of the rod until it was red-hot and settled beside you again.
"That doesn't look fun," you pursed your lips.
"It won't be. It's going to hurt... a lot," Bones said.
"Great," you huffed and leaned back into the dirt.
"Lucky for you, Spock gave me some good practice with this method a few years ago. It'll be quick, I promise," he tried to reassure you.
"Yeah, yeah. Just get it over with, please."
"Deep breath in," Leonard whispered soothingly. You squeezed your eyes shut and did as he asked. He peeled back your red shirt and pressed the scorching metal to your skin before he could second guess himself. The sounds of agony you made were torture to his ears. The seconds felt like hours, but eventually the screams fell away to quiet shivers and pants.
McCoy used his sleeve to wipe away some of the blood on your abdomen. No new blood replaced it, meaning he successfully closed it! "All done, sweetheart. No more..." He tossed the rod away and held your face in his soft hands again.
"Well..." you caught your breath. "That wasn't so bad... I don't suppose you have any water in those magical pockets of yours?" you asked hopefully.
"I'm afraid not," McCoy's eyes softened when they fell on you.
"It's fine, maybe I can ring out my pants and drink the water from our little swim earlier..." you joked.
Leonard sighed and shook his head, "Darlin', you are a force to be reckoned with..." He brought the cuff of his uniform to your cheek and tenderly wiped away whatever blood he could. Your face was swelling around the Orbital and Zygomatic regions. He could see it in your eyes... you were in a lot of pain and there wasn't a damned thing he could do about it. His med-kit was miles away, somewhere under several feet of debris.
"Where's my phaser?" you lifted your head, but he gently urged you back down.
"Easy there tiger, take a breather. I'll find it," McCoy groaned as he stood up. The hypo he used earlier for his back was starting to wear off. He must have been down here a lot longer than he realized.
The doctor scoured the floor for your phaser, but everything was so dark and his flashlight was getting low on power. After close to five minutes of searching, he swiped one of the enemy's lasers from the floor and brought it back to you. "Sorry, I know you aren't a fan of deadly weapons, but this is all we got."
You took a deep, shaky breath and forced yourself into a sitting position. "Let's hope I don't have to use it then..." you winced and placed the weapon in your holster. "We should get moving. These guys aren't gonna stay down for long."
Leonard nodded and brought your left arm around his shoulder, bracing your waist with his gentle hands. "Alright, up we go... Easy, easy. That was only a temporary fix back there..." he whispered. Slowly, Dr. McCoy eased you into a standing position. Almost immediately, your vision swam and your body sank against his.
"Oh..." you muttered, closing your eyes against the spinning room.
"Y/N? Talk to me. What are you feeling?"
"This is a bad concussion... the worst I've had. I feel like I'm sideways, standing on the wall instead of the floor."
"Okay, try taking a step for me."
You opened your eyes and took a step forward, but your upper body swayed to the side, attempting to account for the imaginary tilt. You probably would've fallen on your face if McCoy weren't there to catch you.
"Well, darlin' I gotta hand it to you. If you were any more off-center, you'd be the damned tower of Pisa"
"Leave me here... you need to go and find the others. I'll just slow you down."
"Out of the question. If the roles were switched, would you leave me behind?" McCoy raised his eyebrow disapprovingly.
"That's differen-"
"You and I both know that's a load of hooey. I'm not leaving you. End of story. Now sit here for a minute, while I figure something out."
You begrudgingly sat down on a rock, with Leonard's help of course, and watched as he paced for a few moments. You supposed he must have come up with something, because he stole a scarf from one of the aliens and started tying it around himself in various ways. You eventually decided to close your eyes. While you always enjoyed looking at the handsome doctor, your sense of vertigo was making it rather unbearable.
"Alright, I've got a plan, but it won't feel too good on your ribs."
"Great..." you mumbled, keeping your eyes shut.
"I'll try to be gentle-"
"I know Len... We're short on options and you're doing your best. It'll be okay... I trust you, " you offered him a smile. His heart did back-flips in his chest and it took everything in him not to tell you he loved you right then and there! Instead, he wrapped the scarf around you, hoping the extra support would make it easier to carry you long distance.
"Okay darlin', I'm gonna pick you up now... Is that okay?"
"I'm ready, go ahead," you said.
The moment your chest made contact with his back, you felt a wave of nausea-inducing pain all through your body. You pressed your face into his shoulder and tried not to make any noise. Leonard hoisted you up, hands clutching your thighs.
"How're you doing back there?" Leonard turned his head so you could hear him.
"Been better..." you managed. "Let's get moving doc, before I throw up on you or something."
"Wouldn't want that, would we?" he started walking away from the carnage at a brisk pace. His back was screaming at him, but he had no intention of putting you down. You winced at every sharp movement, so he tried to keep all shaking or bouncing to a minimum.
The path was tortuously uphill, with a few straightaways between that gave him some reprieve. Eventually, the cave walls gave way to carved buildings. The flashlight he had attached to his shirt was growing dimmer, so he was thankful for the more predictable pattern of the ancient roadways. All was quiet except for the shuffling of feet and running water. That was, until you spoke up.
"Hey Leonard?" you whispered. Your hot breath caused Bones to shiver.
"Yeah? What is it, do you need a break?" he asked
He felt you nod against his shoulder. You must be exhausted. Fatigue was common with concussions. He just needed to make sure you stayed awake until he could get you into a bio-bed.
"Just hold on a little bit longer, I think I hear a stream up ahead. Maybe we can get you that water you were asking for, huh?" he suggested.
You nodded again.
McCoy picked up the pace a little and started following the sound of the water. As luck would have it, they found what must have once been a beautiful fountain. Over the years, the water pouring from the ceiling ate away at whatever carving had been there. The fountain was now nothing more than a circular pool being fed by a small waterfall, but presentation matters not when you're as thirsty as a riverbed in a drought.
Leonard eased you onto the lip of the pool and leaned you back against a stone structure that probably used to be a retaining wall. He sat the scarf to the side and pulled out his tri-corder again. A quick scan informed him that the water was safe to drink. McCoy washed his mitts in the basin before cupping them under the waterfall. Once full, he brought them to your lips and urged you to drink.
He did this a few times until you seemed satisfied, only then did he allow himself a few sips. Bones stretched out his legs and cursed under his breath. His whole body felt like lead. He was sure you were enjoying the break too. That pressure on your chest must have been terrible, even with the medicine dulling the pain. Yet, you never complained. Not even once. He wished you would lean on him, let him give you some comfort. Instead, you were probably bracing for him to make some unsolicited comments about you and your work.
Leonard was pulled from his reverie when you tilted toward the water with the intent to cleanse yourself of the caked on blood. Your face contorted in discomfort and you pressed back against the wall. You took a moment to collect yourself and tried again, but McCoy stopped you with a soothing squeeze of the shoulder. "Let me do it..."
"Leonard, you don't-"
"You took down the quad-armed madmen, now it's my turn. You did your part... Let me do mine." He peered at you with those gorgeous hazel eyes and you were powerless to refuse. You nodded and leaned your head back against the rock.
He knelt in front of you and took your hands into his. Leonard's palms were soft and tender... the hands of a healer. Yours were bloody and busted and callused. You weren't sure it should be legal for you to touch someone like him. He didn't bend you toward the water. Instead, he got his hands wet and wiped away the stains using slow, circular motions. The cold water felt nice against the scrapes on your knuckles.
Bones was always gentle with you, even if he wasn't pleased with you. To be honest, it was one of the things you most looked forward to when you got back from a long mission. Amidst all the uncertainties in the universe, the one thing you could always count on was Leonard. You could count on a southern metaphor and a few well-placed medical jokes to keep you from falling apart at the seams. His smile, his voice, his touch... they were your anchor.
He should have left you behind. He probably would have made it to safety by now, but he was stubborn as a mule. No amount of arguing would shake him when his mind was made up. You couldn't decide whether you loved that about him or hated it.
You loved it, of course you did... You loved everything about him. No point in denying it now. You needed him safe, not here taking care of you.
"Leonard, I need you to do something for me..." you said.
"What is it, sweetheart?" he whispered in that drawl you loved so much.
"I need you to go and find the others," you murmured, peering at him through half-lidded eyes.
His hands ceased all movement and he looked at you with an ambivalent expression... the one he always wore when he was about to scold you. You sighed and braced for the impact.
"Are you out of your mind? I can't leave you here! It's not safe!" he furrowed his brows at you.
"That's exactly why I need you to go. I've put you in danger long enough. I'm not getting any better Leonard, I'm slowing you down."
"I'm not leaving," he glared at your hands as he washed them.
"Why do you always have to do this?" your voice shook.
Leonard froze.
"Why can't you just trust me? I'm trying to keep you safe! I've become a detriment to your survival. You have to leave me. Please. Just one time... I don't want to argue anymore... I just want you to live... I love you, dammit!" Tears carved a path through your bloodstained face.
Leonard's throat burned as he struggled not to cry. You meant it... He could see it in your eyes, hear it in the desperation in your voice. You were at your breaking point. The cool and confident Y/N was gone. He couldn't be a coward anymore. It was time to just come out and say it. But when he tried, all that came out was a remorseful croak. No. He had to show you.
Bones cradled the sides of your face in his hands and pressed his lips against yours. His body moved of its own accord, desperate to get closer. His breath hitched when your fingers snaked into his hair, your touch sent a wave of goosebumps down his arms. The kiss was clumsy, full of bumping foreheads and clashing noses in the dark. But despite the messiness of it all, he wanted nothing more than this moment to last forever.
The eagerness slowly melted into soft, slow kisses. Finally, Leonard pulled away, eyes swimming with regret. His thumbs brushed over your cheeks. His lips quivered on the edge of speaking.
"I can't leave you... I can't do it... I trust you... I don't think you're reckless, or foolhardy, or whatever else I've said through the years. You're a hero! My hero, and I think you're incredible at everything you do. You're the best damned CSO we've ever had on the Enterprise and I should have been tellin' you that all along," McCoy shook his head. "I'm sorry I led you to believe I thought you were anything less than perfect... I love you, Y/N... Don't ask me to leave you behind..." he pleaded.
McCoy's breath caught in his throat when you lightly grabbed his wrist. His eyes glinted off the ever-dimming flashlight, giving the illusion that stars were suspended within.
Your attention darted over to his hands... his impossibly soft hands. You allowed yourself the privilege of intertwining your fingers with his.
"Y/N?"
"Have I ever told you that you have beautiful hands?" You murmured tiredly.
"Can't say you have..." he whispered breathlessly.
"Well, you do... You've held my life in them so many times... You're my hero too..." you hummed and closed your eyes. You brushed your slightly-chapped lips over his knuckles, making Leonard melt to the core.
"Y/N..."
"It looks like we've reached an impasse... I love you too much to let you stay... You love me too much to leave..." You murmured against his fingers.
"Then I guess it's time we came up with a compromise..." Leonard whispered. You opened your mouth to respond, but an unexpected voice took you both by surprise.
"That is incorrect doctor, no compromise will be needed."
You had your laser out in a matter of seconds and Leonard had his flashlight aimed at the stranger. In the dim lighting, you could see that the person wasn't actually a stranger. It was Spock!
"What the- What- Spock?! How long have you been standing there?!" McCoy bellowed.
"Since you informed Commander Y/L/N that you love them," Spock raised an eyebrow and stepped closer.
"Dammit, Spock! Why didn't you say something?!"
"I felt it would be rude to interrupt-"
"Nevermind that. I need you to go get a stretcher and bring it here! Y/N is badly injured!" Instead of leaving like Bones expected, Spock pulled out his communicator. "Spock, that thing doesn't work down he-"
"Spock to field team. I need a stretcher at my location. I have left a trail for you to follow. Yes. Yes, I will inform them," the Vulcan closed his communicator and resumed his signature resting pose with his hands behind his back, "The medical team is on their way here with a stretcher and supplies."
"Now the communicator works!" Leonard threw his hands up in exasperation.
"Have you found the rest of the crew?" You asked, hope evident in your tired voice.
"Your team all made it out alive, Commander. Minimal injuries. They were placed under heavy surveillance, likely with the intention to sell our officers in an underground market. They managed to escape when a horn sounded. Several Kavirans left to investigate, leaving only two guards. Security officers Lewis and Elfan dispatched them quickly and led the others to safety. By the time they made it back to the entrance, rescue personnel had blasted their way in. They are resting in the medbay as we speak."
You released a sigh of relief and sagged against the stone. You could finally breathe easy knowing your team was alright. "Thank you, Spock."
"How far are we from the surface?" McCoy asked.
"2.414 kilometers," Spock replied.
"A mile and a half?! We were almost there?!"
"No doctor, you were going in the wrong direction. It is fortunate I found you when I did."
McCoy shot him a glare and returned his attention to you. "How are you feeling sweetheart? Do you need anything?"
"I need a nap..." you tried to smile.
"You can have one when we get back to the Enterprise. Think you can hold on a bit longer for me?"
"For you doc, I'd do anything," you winked.
Leonard blushed and smiled. "You're damn near ready to pass out and you're trying to make me weak in the knees~"
"You say that like it's a difficult thing to accomplish, doctor..." you whispered and shivered. The loss of blood had taken down your body temperature by a significant amount.
McCoy settled beside you on the floor, hissing as his scraped back made contact with the cool stone. You tucked yourself into his side and snickered.
"What?" he frowned.
"You smell terrible," you smirked back.
"Then why are you moving closer to me?"
"I'm hoping if I sit close to you, you'll kiss me again~" you joked.
Leonard didn't dare look at the Vulcan standing a few feet away. He didn't look at you either. He just sat there, practically steaming from the embarrassment.
"It was a joke, doctor," you teased.
Bones let out a sigh of relief.
"Jeez, don't sound too disappointed," You laughed and winced as a jolt ran through your ribs.
"you wanna kiss me that bad?" he asked.
"I've only been wanting to for like... a year," you shrugged.
He leaned close, his lips ghosted over your ear. "Don't worry darlin'. Once you're all healed up, you can have me all to yourself..." he drawled in a whisper.
Your face lit up like a wildfire. You were amazed at how quickly he had turned the tables on you...
At least you weren't cold anymore.
~~~
It took thirty minutes for the medical team to arrive with a stretcher and thirty more minutes to exit the cave. Almost as soon as the moonlight hit your face, you were beamed up onto the ship. You barely had a second to greet the Captain before you and Leonard were whisked away to the medbay. Due to the injuries McCoy sustained during his time underground, he was not permitted to operate on you. Dr. M'Benga took wonderful care of you and within the week, they allowed you to rest in your own room.
Leonard made regular house calls and sat by your side most nights after his shift. He was determined to help you make a swift recovery.
You watched him out of the corner of your eye, admiring the shadows his tousled brown hair was casting on his face. The doctor was trying not to doze off and failing miserably. It was a mesmerizing sight.
"You're staring, Darlin'," he murmured and peeked an eye open at you.
"Stop being so pretty and I'll stop staring," you shrugged. He rolled his eyes, but the blush gave him away. For his sake, you decided to change the subject. "You know, doctor... I never said thank you."
"Thank me? for what?" he asked.
"For saving my life..."
"You don't need to-"
"I do. It's not easy... your job, I mean. People like me, the fighters, get all the spotlight, but you put yourself on the line... carried me to safety. I saved your life once... You've saved mine... I don't even know how many times," your eyes softened. "Thank you for everything... "
Leonard stared at you for a moment before leaning in and kissing you softly. A sentry and a surgeon. The ultimate pair. After years of dancing around each other, you finally gave in.
Your doctor pulled away with a lazy grin and tucked your head under his chin. "There you go again, wooing me with your endless charisma."
"Says the man who's filled to the brim with southern charm."
"At least I don't use my charm as a means to get what I want."
"How else was I supposed to get your attention with you falling asleep over there?~"
"You could have asked nicely. Haven't you ever heard of the word, please?"
"Can't say that I have."
"Don't you worry darlin', you'll learn soon enough," he smirked against your temple.
You halfheartedly smacked McCoy's chest. "Slow down there, cowboy. My ribs are still broken," you sassed.
"Just giving you an incentive to heal quicker," he kissed your head and pulled you closer.
"Mhm..." you closed your eyes and listened to his steady heartbeat. A month ago, you could have only dreamed of holding him like this... of being held. Now he was here, tracing shapes on your shoulder with his delicate fingertips.
"Y/N?"
"Len?" you smiled, eyes still closed.
"I hope you know that I'd do it again... a billion times over," he said. You knew what he meant.
"Me too..." you hummed in agreement.
You'd take the beating again and again for him... and no matter how many beatings you took... you knew he'd be there waiting to make it better again. A vicious cycle.
"I love you," he whispered.
You wouldn't change it for the world.
"I love you too."
You had a lot of healing to do before you could fully embrace this exciting new development in your life, but for now, you were content.
Content, huh? Now that's the understatement of the century.
....................
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this means war ; bones
fandom: star trek
pairing: bones x reader
summary: based on this song but incredibly drawn out and long winded (you're reuniting with the enterprise crew for jim's birthday almost six months after leaving for a job at the academy because of a messy breakup)
notes: hey, i'm back! life has been super busy but i was listening to this song a few months ago and decided that i had to write something for it... and then a few months and thousands of words later... here you go! it is a little bit messy, but i can't not post it. let me know what you think! please!
warnings: swearing, alcohol consumption, sexual references (i promise i am working on writing actual smut and not this fade to black crap), and lots of words i'm sorry if it sucks
word count: 10749 (i have no self control)
The birth date of James Tiberius Kirk is either a taboo subject not to be mentioned or alluded to for the entire month of March, or an intergalactic holiday that must be celebrated for a full two weeks straight. This year, it’s a celebration. The USS Enterprise is docked at Starbase Yorktown after doubling back due to an unfortunate encounter in unfriendly space, but not even a month's setback on the starship’s five-year journey could put a damper on her captain’s birthday. In fact, the party itself was arranged in all its grandeur after the unlucky incident, seeing that shore leave provided the perfect opportunity to drink and be merry in celebration of Jim’s ageing.
So it was your best friend’s birthday celebrations that finally dragged you out of your dark and comforting office at Starfleet Academy for the first time in four months, all the way to Starbase Yorktown. It was a long journey, which you were thankful for, because despite it being almost half of a year since you left your post on the USS Enterprise, you’re still not sure if you’re ready to face her crew again. Of course you miss them, they were your closest friends long before the Enterprise’s five-year assignment, but when Starfleet made you an offer you couldn’t refuse, well... you couldn’t refuse it. Or at least, that was the story you stuck to when your friends begged you to stay. It most definitely had absolutely nothing to do with a saga of heartbreak and animosity.
“Okay, breathe,” you tell your reflection, watching the colour in your cheeks deepen the more you reminisce. The black dress you’re wearing is perfectly complimentary, accentuating all the right parts and boosting your confidence just enough to get you out the door. The hallway wasn’t too difficult, but the elevator descent awakens the anxious butterflies in your stomach, and the hotel lobby has your heartrate rising with every click of your heels against the polished marble floor.
“This is ridiculous,” you sigh, earning a few odd glances from passersby as you exit the hotel’s main doors. The artificial air outside is warm and the sky mimics a pink and orange sunset that casts long shadows on the pavement. You watch your own move as you head toward the party venue; a Federation building purpose-built for conferences and training seminars that Jim had somehow convinced someone to let him use. You often forget how respected the captain really is.
The walk isn’t long, and before you can even attempt to quell the nausea rising up from your stomach, you find yourself standing in the foyer of the building. The reception desk is empty except for a small sign atop it with an arrow pointing down the corridor, reading ‘Captain Kirk’s Birthday Extravaganza’. You have to force your feet to move in the direction of the music and chatter, despite every fibre of your being telling you to turn around.
The doors to the room are open, so you have absolutely no time to steel your nerves before the first person recognises you. A cadet from the MedBay, of course, you spent enough of your time there for every medical crew member to know who you are. His face is a mixture of confusion and delight as he calls out your name, “Y/N!”
You plaster on a smile, push your shoulders back, and walk into the party.
“I didn’t expect to see you here,” the cadet, Trevor, says, “Doctor McCoy said you-” Before he can finish his sentence, another body slams into yours, knocking the breath out of you and almost knocking you clean off your feet.
You stumble back but catch yourself, suddenly wrapped in the familiar smell of wild berry scented shampoo with a ponytail full of brown hair in your face. You hug her back, fighting tears as you mumble into her hair, “Nyota.”
“I can’t believe you came!” she says as she pulls away, her own eyes glassy with moisture, “how long did it take to get here?”
“Not that long,” you shrug, “and it was nice to see the stars again.”
She frowns, “you can still see the stars from the academy.”
“Not from behind my desk, you can’t,” you say through a forced smile, trying to make your sad reality sound like a jest. You truly did hate your dark little office; the only window was facing right at a brick wall of the next building and one of the two ceiling lights had died within a month of you moving in. It was always dark, always cold, and so far from anyone else, you often felt as if you were living in an apocalyptic world.
You only catch a glimpse of Nyota’s sympathetic stare before you’re wrapped in another pair of arms. “Y/N!” Jim exclaims, right into your ear, “you’re here!”
Tears threaten to fall once again as you hug your used-to-be captain back. “I’m here,” you mutter into his shirt.
He pulls back, his blue eyes practically glowing as he takes you in, “you look incredible.”
“Thanks,” your cheeks warm, “not looking so bad yourself, Captain.”
He chuckles, “you can’t call me that anymore, remember. You’re not a part of my crew.”
You know he’s only joking, but the words still cause a small fissure in your already fragile heart. “You’re still a captain, and didn’t you promise to keep my post vacant?”
His previously easy smile falters, but only slightly. “I did, in case you change your mind,” he sighs, “but only for six months.”
“What do you mean?”
“I can’t hold the position longer than six months,” he puts a hand on your shoulder as if he’s giving you the worst news of your life, “if you decide to stay at the academy, I have to replace you.”
“Wait,” you frown up at him, “is that why you asked me to come, so you could tell me to officially sign off of the Enterprise?”
“No, of course not, I just-” he hesitates before sighing again, “let’s not talk about this now, okay? I invited you here because I miss you.” He pulls you back against his chest and you let yourself relax, allowing the familiarity of your best friend to soothe the fresh wave of anxiety coursing through your veins.
“Now,” as he pulls away, Nyota puts a flute of champagne in your hand, “there are a few people who would really like to see this gorgeous face.”
You roll your eyes as he slides you under one arm and walks further into the crowd. “Even though I know you’re talking about yourself,” you say, “I’ll still pretend I’m flattered.”
It doesn’t take long for the rest of your friends to realise you’re here. Sulu and Chekov are first, each wrapping you in a tight hug before Scotty appears. You didn’t expect him to be that emotional, but you find it difficult to hold back your own tears as he sniffles against your shoulder. Keenser isn’t far behind, holding another full glass for you and taking the empty one back to the bar, no doubt about to retrieve more drinks for himself and Mr. Scott.
The more you watch the grins on your friends’ faces, the more your heart aches to return to them. It feels as if you never left, aside from a few funny stories from the last couple of months that Jim reenacts for you with tipsy enthusiasm. You almost forget about the reason that nearly stopped you from being here; the reason your whole body wanted to turn and run with every inch closer you came to this place.
Almost forgot.
“Bones!” Jim exclaims, throwing his arms up and almost spilling his entire drink, “what took you so long?”
Your heart leaps into your throat, stopping your breath as fire spreads across every inch of your skin. You know your face must be glowing red, but you can’t help that, so you focus on keeping your expression calm as you try to remember how to breathe.
Leonard hesitates, his eyes lingering on you before he clears his throat and turns to Jim. “Sorry, medical emergency.”
Jim scoffs, “I can tell when you’re lying. You’re a very bad liar.”
Leonard takes the drink Sulu offers him and clinks it against Jim’s outstretched glass, “well, we can’t all be talented liars,” he glances quickly at you before turning back to the captain. “Happy birthday.”
His words punch you right in the chest, and you’re sure you can feel another piece of your heart break, but you can’t let it show. You tip the rest of your drink to your lips, sculling almost a full glass of champagne while the others take turns greeting Leonard. When you lower your empty glass, the group is standing in awkward silence, each of them watching either you or the doctor to see who will draw their weapon first.
You take a deep breath before meeting his eyes, offering a tight smile, “it’s nice to see you here.”
“Impolite would only be beneath us,” he remarks, before finishing his own drink in one gulp.
“It’s been what? Like, half a year,” you can barely hear your own words over the thrum of your heartbeat.
He considers you for a moment, his gaze tracing up and down your body before he response, “like nothing ever happened between us.”
Once again, your choke on your breath, his words not only hurting you but throwing fuel on the little flame of anger growing in the pit of your stomach.
“Another round?” Sulu asks suddenly, snatching the empty glass from your hand.
Chekov nods enthusiastically, “I will help you.”
As the two of them walk toward the bar, Scotty and Keenser shuffle away and strike up their own conversation, and Nyota mumbles something about Spock before disappearing into the crowd. You’re left with only Jim and Leonard.
“So,” you clear your throat, “how have you been?”
Like he said, impolite would be beneath you, and you can't let him know how much he hurt you. Even though, if he asked, you would tell him anything he wanted to hear because you can’t help the way you still feel about him. The way you know you’ll always feel about him, even if you’ll never know what actually happened between the two of you.
- 6 months & 2 weeks earlier -
Your boots hit the floor with force as you run down the corridor, narrowly dodging startled Enterprise crew until you reached the rear-most turbolift on the ship. Unable to contain your excitement, you continue mashing the button for the MedBay even as the lift descends, only stopping when the doors begin to open. You slip out as soon as the gap is wide enough and continue your run all the way through the MedBay toward Leonard’s office door.
You swipe your card and the door slides open, and you can’t help the way your heart leaps when you first see him. You’re not sure you will ever be used to the way he makes you feel.
“Len,” you exclaim, gasping for breath, “you won’t believe... I got it... the... the thing!”
He leans back in his desk chair, chuckling, “I gave you access to my office for emergencies.”
“This is an emergency,” you say between breaths, holding your chest with one hand while the other hits the button for the door to close.
“Are you going into cardiac arrest? Because you look like you’re going into cardiac arrest.”
You try to regulate your breathing as you give him your most unimpressed stare, “I just ran over half the ship, I’m allowed to be a little out of breath.”
He laughs again, “a little?”
“Would you stop being a smartass and let me speak,” you say as you round his desk and lean against it.
He pushes his chair back to properly look at you, a devilish grin curling his lips, telling you exactly where his mind had gone seeing you atop his desk.
“I had my meeting with the admiral,” you explain, “about the grant.”
His cheeky grin vanishes, replaced by an anticipatory frown as he leans forward with his elbows on his knees, “and?”
“They said yes.”
“They said yes?” he echoes, standing from his chair.
“They said yes!” you exclaim, jumping into his open arms and pressing your lips against his. It takes a moment for him to respond, but when he does, he kisses you back with fervour.
“You are incredible,” he mumbles against your mouth, “did you know that?”
You pull back giggling, “I know.”
“Did they have any questions?” he asks, “any conditions?”
“Nope, they loved it.”
"They loved you,” he says before kissing you again, muttering against your lips, “I love you.”
You freeze and your eyes snap open, staring up at him as his cheeks turn red. He hesitates before taking a step back, “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean-”
“Didn’t mean it?”
“No, I-” he rubs the back of his neck, “I definitely mean it, I just don’t want you to think I expect you to feel the same way.”
You step forward to close the distance between you, “of course I love you,” you stretch onto your toes and press a kiss against his lips, “more than anything.”
His eyes darken and his hands grab your waist as he steps forward. You stumble back until your backside hits the desk, and before you realise what is happening, he lifts you onto it and positions himself between your legs. One hand stays on your waist while the other cups you jaw, “you locked the door?”
Your mind races with filthy thoughts as his thumb traces your bottom lip, and the best response you can must is a soft whisper, “not sure.”
He chuckles, “then we better hope there are no medical emergencies.”
©
You knew exactly how you looked as you leant against the back of the turbolift – your hair a mess, cheeks rosy, and lips swollen – but you didn’t care; you just had mind-blowing sex in your boyfriend's office. You nod politely at the two other lieutenants in the lift as you step out, unable to hold your giggles at their uneasy smiles once you turn down the hall.
Nyota was waiting for you in the mess hall, tucked into a small booth on the edge of the room with her nose almost pressed to her PADD as she scrutinised its content. You slide into the seat opposite her, “hey, sorry I’m late.”
She takes one look at you before smirking, “have fun?”
“Lots,” you reply with a grin.
She shuts off her PADD and slides it aside, “so, how did it go?”
“The sex, or?”
“You know what I mean,” she says, rolling her eyes.
You laugh before replying, “it was amazing, actually; I can’t believe how stressed I was for nothing. They listened to my whole pitch, asked all the questions that I had answers for, and then said yes.”
Although her smile is still wide, she doesn’t quite leap for joy the way you had when you ended your meeting with the admiral. You frown, “what?”
“I’m waiting for the ‘but’.”
“Who said there’s a ‘but’?”
Her smile turns sheepish, “Jim.”
"Oh, for fuck’s sake,” you sigh, “I told him to keep it to himself, because I-”
“Told them no?” she interrupts, “and you said you want to stay on the Enterprise despite their generous offer?” Her tone tells you that she already knows what you said, which was, in fact, the exact opposite of what she just said.
One tiny piece of information that you intentionally omitted when you celebrated with Leonard was that in order to win the admiral’s approval for the grant, you might have accidentally accepted a job offer back at the academy. In your defence, it was almost impossible not to say yes. You were asking some of the most senior offices in Starfleet for a huge quantity of additional resources in order to run a twelve-month biomechanical programme aboard the Enterprise. How were you supposed to know they would offer you a position at the academy? And how were you supposed to say no?
By the time you finish telling Nyota about your meeting with the admiral from start to finish the mess hall is much quieter, and you’re surprised at how late it really is when you check your communicator. There is a long, awkward pause while you wait for her to respond, and you begin to feel like a child waiting for their punishment.
“I can’t believe you said that,” Nyota sighs, resting her elbows on the table and holding her head in her hands, “you can’t just say something like that knowing you don’t mean it.”
“I know, I just freaked out.”
“Freaked out?” she echoes disapprovingly.
“Yes!” you snap, “it was awkward. What was I supposed to say?”
She rolls her eyes, “I don’t know, maybe ‘I’m flattered, but sorry’.”
“Nyota, seriously.”
“I am serious!” she exclaims, “you can’t just take something like that back.”
You sit back and cross your arms, “yes, I can.”
She mimics your body language, raising her brows, “how?”
“Jim is going to talk to him.”
She scoffs, “oh, great idea. You know everyone already thinks Jim favours you?”
“I know how it’s going to look,” you sigh, “but if it gets me out of this mess, I don’t care what anyone thinks about Jim and me.”
Her scowl softens ever so slightly, “so, you got what you wanted and now you’re just going to back out?”
“Well, yeah,” you shrug, “I’m sure it’ll be fine.”
Your communicator chirps and buzzes on the table, breaking both of you out of the intense staring competition you hadn't realised you were in.
“You better hope so,” Nyota says as she slides out of the booth, “and pray they don’t reconsider the grant.”
You check your communicator as you reply, “it’s going to be fine, Nyota, they’ll understand.” There are no missed calls or alerts, but the time reminds you just how tired and ready for bed you are.
The two of you leave the mess hall, walking together until you come to Nyota’s quarters where she bids you a good night. You continue in the direction of your own residency, flipping open your communicator along the way and calling Leonard. You listen to the dial tone for almost a minute before giving up and deciding to wait until he calls you back. Once inside your quarters, you shed your uniform and jump in the shower, scrubbing the stress of the day off before wrapping yourself in a fluffy towel. You check your communicator to find no missed messages, so you try calling Leonard again. No luck.
After an hour of flicking through data on your PADD, you begin to worry. You try calling a third time before you realise how late it is and your panic spikes, so you slip into your shoes and shuffle out the door. The halls are empty as you make your way down to the MedBay, only to find it just as desolate with a single nightshift nurse idly sorting different bits of equipment.
Two more unanswered calls and another half-hour of walking through the quiet ship has your heart racing anxiously, but its late and there’s no one else you can call without being a nuisance and waking them up. You make your way back to your room, dragging your feet until you’re close enough to fall into your bed face first and let out a few tears before exhaustion takes over.
You barely sleep, spending most of the night half-conscious worrying about Leonard. By the time your alarm goes off, you’re already dressed and slipping into your shoes. You shut it off before rushing out the door in the direction of the MedBay, retracing your steps from last night.
Relief washes over you when you see him standing in the doorway of his office, but a new kind of worry settles like a stone in the pit of your stomach. He’s not hurt or missing, so... was he ignoring you?
“Len,” you call as you walk through the MedBay, “hey.”
The look on his face is far from familiar; his hazel eyes seem darker and the circles beneath them are a deep purple, “mornin’.”
“Where have you been?” you ask, unable to mask the worry in your voice, “I was looking for you last night. I called a few times, but you never answered, I was so worried.”
He keeps his eyes on his PADD as he turns and walks further into his office, “sorry, medical emergency.”
You follow him in, trying not to choke on the panic rising in your throat, “oh, I didn’t hear about anything. Are you okay?”
“Fine,” he mumbles, “just busy.” He refuses to look up at you, keeping his eyes trained on the device in his hands and moving as if you’re both the south ends of two opposing magnets.
“Okay,” you say, your voice even weaker than before, “well, I spoke to Jim yesterday and he said we should break out the scotch tonight. You know, have a little celebration?”
“Can’t, I’m on call.”
"You could still come and hang out,” you force a smile onto your lips, “come on, don’t make me admit that I miss you.”
He only scoffs, his attention unmoving from his PADD.
You swallow the lump in your throat, “are you sure you’re alright?”
He sighs and finally looks up, his brows knit tight and something akin to resentment behind his glare, “Jim told me.”
“Told you what?”
“About the job offer.”
The stone in your stomach grows three sizes, sending a wave of nausea through your whole body and you have to lean against the wall to steady yourself. “He wasn’t supposed to,” you mutter, “he wasn’t supposed to tell anyone because I’m not taking it.”
“I think you should.”
His words feel like a knife being plunged into your chest, knocking you breathless and turning your voice into a whisper, “what?”
“I think you should take the job,” he says.
You blink back your tears, “why?”
“It sounds like a great opportunity, and you’re young, so you should take it.”
If it weren’t for your shoulder leaning against the wall, you could almost be sure the room itself is starting to spin. You can feel your heartbeat in every inch of your skin, heat spreading like wildfire through your whole body as your heart begins to tear itself in two.
“Just so I’m clear,” your words are soft and unsteady, “you want me to take the job and leave the Enterprise?”
He nods once, opening his mouth to reply but hesitates, as if suddenly deciding not to say whatever was on the tip of his tongue. Only then do you realise that tears are streaming down your cheeks.
“Okay, fine,” you say, wiping your face with the back of your hand, “I’ll take the job, and since you can’t seem to stand the sight of me, I’ll start in three weeks instead of six.”
You can barely see his face through the blur of tears, so you turn sharply toward the door and storm out, trying your best to keep your sobs muffled as you move through the ship and back to your room.
-
Those three weeks were the closest thing to hell that you’ve ever known. At first you were devastated, locking yourself in your room for four days straight, refusing to talk to anyone and living off half a meal a day. Everyone was worried but knew you needed space, especially after they heard you accepted the job at the academy. After the fourth day of wallowing, you got angry. You finally showered, dressed, and ate a full meal before deciding you would demand Leonard to tell you what the fuck you did wrong.
Jim said he could hear that first ‘conversation’ between you and the doctor all the way from the bridge... you were in the MedBay. You’re not sure you’ve ever yelled at someone so much, let alone someone you love, but it was like that for the rest of your time on the Enterprise. You couldn’t be amicable with one another, no matter how hard you tried.
“Y/N,” Jim nudges you with his elbow, “do you remember that?”
You blink away your daydream to find four sets of eyes on you and one pair intentionally avoiding you, “remember what?”
“When you weren’t wearing underwear and we-”
“Jim!” you smack his arm, “I thought you promised not to bring that up ever again.”
He wraps an arm around your shoulder, chuckling, “I’m sorry but I have a duty to never let that story die, it has to be one of the best days of my life.”
You roll your eyes but still join in the laughter of the captain, Sulu, Chekov, and Scotty. You’re almost positive you see Leonard’s lip twitch, but he quickly lifts his glass and takes a huge gulp of beer. Once the laughter subsides, Jim squeezes you closer and sighs, “you know, it’s just not the same without you on the ship. I actually miss you, like, a lot.”
You gasp dramatically, “did James Tiberius Kirk just admit to feeling something?”
“I’m serious,” he says, “don’t you miss me?” His blue eyes are wide and pleading, tugging at your heartstrings.
“Of course I miss you,” you quickly look around your circle of friends, “I miss everyone. It wasn’t easy to leave, but I just couldn’t pass up the opportunity.”
“Aw,” Jim coos, “do you mean it? You really miss me?”
You roll your eyes again despite the smile on your face, “yes, I really mean it.”
Leonard scoffs, “are you sure about that?”
You can feel the energy shift, everyone suddenly tense as you finally look up at him, “about what?”
“That you mean it.”
“Why wouldn’t I?” you ask, pulling away from under Jim’s arm.
Leonard shrugs, “sometimes people say things they don’t mean.”
“I guess,” you frown, “but why would I lie?”
“You tell me,” he replies, his expression unreadable as he takes another sip of beer.
You hesitate for a moment, the tension tangible as you scramble for words. “I’m confused,” you finally say, “Did I do something in the last twenty seconds to piss you off?”
He chuckles bitterly, “you know what? Don’t worry about it.”
The angry flame in your belly bursts into a bonfire, heating you from the inside and bordering your vision with red. “No,” you step forward ever so slightly, “you can’t just call me a liar and then tell me not to worry about it. What did I do?”
“Nothing, just forget about it. I’ll see you around,” he says, moving as if he intends to walk away.
“No!” you snap, taking another step toward him, “I won’t ‘forget about it’ either. This is not what I came here for, but if you have something to say, then say it. Or better yet, if you have something to feel, then feel it and stop pretending to be so fucking indifferent.”
He frowns, his hazel eyes full of an emotion you can’t seem to place. “Would you stop?” he murmurs, “you’re making a scene.”
Jim mumbles sarcastically behind you, “oh, how I miss the war.”
You ignore him, your glare locked on Leonard, “I’m making a scene? You’re the one that started it, but- oh wait,” you pause for dramatic effect, “that’s right; you can’t finish anything you start.”
The blow lands, because you can see the vein in his neck pulse even faster. Neither of you like to play too dirty, most of your ‘fights’ are just petty arguments, but every now and then a carefully crafted comment will remind each of you that if you wanted to, you could really hurt one another. You know Leonard isn’t proud of his divorce, and you know that bringing it up in any negative context can really get to him.
“Maybe you’re right,” his says in a low voice, “but at least I have the decency to walk away before I make a mess.”
It takes all of your self-control not to speak any louder than he did, “oh, you want to talk about making a mess?”
“No, because I’m going to leave before I say something I don’t mean.”
He turns and walks away before you can fully process what just happened. You can feel the red-hot colour of your cheeks as blood pumps through your veins twice as fast as normal, both from anger and embarrassment. Luckily, not many others noticed your little spat, and your friends had to deal with so much of that during your final weeks on the Enterprise that they’re not even phased.
You turn to Jim, “I’m sorry.”
“Don’t worry about it,” he chuckles, once again wrapping an arm around your shoulders, “on the scale of Y/N versus Bones, that was like a four.”
You can’t help but giggle as he guides you toward the bar.
“It would have been a three,” you continue, “but I’ll award an extra point for the jab at his divorce.”
“Jim!” you scold, nudging his rib with your elbow.
He laughs again, louder, “what? If I have to deal with my two favourite people at war, then I’m going to make a game of it.”
You spend the rest of the night right beside Jim, trying to ignore the guilt growing bigger and uglier inside your stomach. Leonard doesn’t leave until a few hours later, having been caught by a group of his MedBay buddies who insist on fetching him drinks, and you can’t help from keeping him within your sight. You’re jealous of every single person who gets even a second of his attention or a smile directed their way, and when one of the cute young nurses leans in a little too close to him, you feel your drinks bubbling up your throat.
You decide to say goodbye mere minutes after you see the doctor walk out the door, leaving Jim to his merriment with the rest of the crew who are more than a little inebriated, though he doesn’t let you walk away until you pinkie-promise to join your friends at breakfast in the morning. That should be fun.
The walk back to your hotel feels longer than it did on the way to the party. Your feet are sore and heavy, and your stomach feels like its full of toxic waste that isn’t going to stay there for long. You didn’t even drink that much, you just can’t help feeling sick over your argument with Leonard and the way that nurse touched his arm.
You kick your shoes off the second you step into your room and wriggle out of your dress, throwing it on the floor along with everything else you can remove from your body before falling on the bed. Just as you’ve done for the past five months, you begin to play back every interaction you’ve had with Leonard since he told you to take the job at the academy, starting with the newest addition to the library from this evening. The first time you did this was the first night you spent at your cramped apartment on the academy’s campus; you thought if you dissected enough of the interaction, you might be able to figure out what went wrong. After a while you realised it had become a sort of comfort, simply remembering that Leonard did still exist and he is still out there. You often wonder if he thinks of you just as much, but you try not to feed the hope that still burns at the back of your chest, which is exactly why you’re only allowed to remember the fights and arguments. If you let your mind wander further back than that, you might not ever return to reality.
A chirp from your communicator wakes you, so you rub your eyes until you can read the cheeky message from Jim reminding you about your breakfast plans. You groan loudly as you throw the comforter back and quite literally roll out of bed. You’re not ready for another battle, but you do have unfinished business with Jim relating to your status of employment aboard the Enterprise, or lack thereof.
You hadn’t mentioned it last night because of, well, obvious reasons, but there is another factor contributing to your decision whether or not to forfeit your post as a part of Jim’s crew. Before you left, as if your boss knew this trip would tempt you to return to your friends, the academy offered you another position co-leading a brand-new programme for aspiring mechatronic engineers. It’s not necessarily your strength, but it sounds incredible, and to be amongst some of the most intelligent people in Starfleet would be nothing short of inspiring, but that meant giving up the Enterprise (and her crew) for good.
You quickly shower and change into comfortable clothes before packing most of your belongings into your duffel bag. You do have another night booked, but you’re not sure you’ll want to stay on Yorktown much longer if this morning doesn’t go well.
Unsurprisingly, Jim decided to have breakfast at the Starfleet base where most of the crew would be staying during their time on the starbase. It was just the same as the mess hall on the ship or at the academy, just a little newer with better food because most people passing through Yorktown were high-ranking or dignitaries from the Federation, and apparently, Jim Kirk was also one of those important people. The Enterprise crew were given a private buffet on the mezzanine level of the huge eating area, where two long tables were laid out with all the breakfast food you could imagine.
“I think we might have to warn Starfleet about giving the captain a big head,” Nyota says, falling into step beside you, “or soon there won’t be room for anyone else on the bridge.”
You giggle, “but if there’s no one else on the bridge, who’s going to compliment his luscious hair and his humble courage?”
She laughs too and even Spock cracks a tiny smile beside her.
“Hey Spock.”
“It is nice to see you again, Y/N,” he responds with a nod, “I regret not being able to spend more time with you last night.”
You wave your hand dismissively and continue toward the tables of food. Sulu soon joins the three of you and you chat idly while loading up plates full of food. Jim is standing at the back of the room, leaning against the wall with a coffee in one hand and using the other to animate whatever intriguing conversation he and Scotty were having. You try not to acknowledge Leonard as you approach them.
“Hey,” Nyota whispers, “we don’t have to join them.”
You shake your head, “I’m calm, I’m sure of it.”
She can’t help but snicker quietly at the comically wide smile you force across your face as you reach your group of friends.
“Good morning gorgeous,” Jim greets you as you join them, “I’m glad you’re here.”
“I’m surprised you’re here,” you say.
He rolls his eyes, “please, I have a liver of steel.”
You can’t hold back your laughter, “is that what that was on New Year’s Eve? It was your liver of steel that made you fall off the toilet and page Len because you couldn’t feel your left butt cheek?”
You laugh a little harder as you vividly recall the state Jim had been in that night, but the laughter from the rest of the group is soft and awkward, and only then do you realise what you said. Len. Only you called him that.
Jim clears his throat before it gets too uncomfortable, “uh, anyway, have you thought about your decision?”
“Oh,” you quickly swallow the piece of pancake you put in your mouth, “right into it, then.”
He shrugs sheepishly, “I kind of have to have an answer once I’m back on duty.”
“Well,” you sigh, “then I have to tell you about something else.” You steal a glance at Leonard, noticing his cheeks a darker shade of pink than usual and you wonder if it’s because of your slip up.
You explain the offer from your boss and the programme you’d be running to the group in front of you, trying to keep your voice neutral. You don’t want to seem too resentful of the tiny apartment and dark office you currently have, but you definitely don’t want any of them to think you’re more interested in the academy’s new initiative than returning to the Enterprise.
To everyone’s surprise, Leonard is the first to speak, “it’s a good programme, I’ve heard of it.”
“You’d leave for good?” Nyota asks, “give up your position on the Enterprise?”
“And surrender from the battle,” Jim chuckles, glancing between you and Leonard with a smirk. Nyota and Spock both give him their most disapproving parent stares, and his grin disappears, “sorry, not the time.”
“Well, I was kind of hoping my friends would help me decide,” you say, looking to each of them except Leonard.
“But you know what we’re going to say,” Nyota shrugs, “we want you to come back to the Enterprise.”
“I know, but,” you look pointedly at Scotty, “you can also understand that this is a huge opportunity. I just need some advice.” You know that above the rest, Scotty is the biggest advocate for your career, and you knew he would be the most excited about the programme at the academy.
“You’re right, lassie,” he sighs, “and I’d like to say I’ve missed you the most – it’s been hell down there with just Keenser – but I could never tell you not to take this offer. You’re young, and they’ve noticed you. If you go for this now, you’ll have endless opportunities at Starfleet.”
“But you also have endless opportunities on the Enterprise,” Jim argues. “The resources for your programme only just came in and we’re in the early stages of setting it up; you could take over and lead it. It is your baby.
Your pulse quickens with excitement at the idea of running your programme, but it’s been months since you had anything to do with it. “I’d feel bad taking it over from someone else,” you say, “I couldn’t do that.”
He shakes his head, “no one has been appointed to lead it yet.”
Sulu clears his throat, “well, Captain, we do have Mr. Scott and Dr. McCoy who could lead the programme aboard the Enterprise, and the offer Y/N has is huge. There are thousands in Starfleet who would kill for this opportunity. I miss her as much as anyone else, but she could assist remotely if we need her.”
Jim frowns at his lieutenant for not picking the same side of the argument.
“You’re right, Sulu,” you smile at him before countering Jim’s scowl, “Scotty and Dr. McCoy can run it. They’re the brains behind the whole thing anyway. All I did was pitch it, so really, my job is done.”
“Your job is not done,” Nyota butts in, “you have no idea how hard the last few months have been without you.”
“That’s because I haven’t been replaced, the crew is down a man.”
“You’re not replaceable,” Jim states, his brows even closer than before, “no one could-”
“I’ll stop you right there, Captain,” you interrupt, “because there are plenty of incredible people in Starfleet who could do more than simply fill my shoes.”
Jim huffs, failing to find another counter argument.
“If I may, Y/N,” Spock says, taking half a step forward, “but you are seeking advice to assist in making the decision, are you not? Though you argue only with those who advise you to return to the Enterprise, which would suggest that you have already made this decision. Unless you are simply waiting for a better reason to return, or perhaps, for the right person to ask you to,” he pauses and turns to Leonard, “Dr. McCoy?”
The air is suddenly thick with tension, everyone gaping at Spock and wondering if they might have imagined what they just heard.
“Fire in the hole,” Jim murmurs into his cup as he takes a swig of coffee.
Leonard clears his throat, “I don’t particularly care what Y/N does, so I don’t think my opinion should matter.”
Jim coughs, almost choking on his drink, “and take cover.” He pats his chest and turns to Spock, “have I introduced you to our newest cadet in the archaeological research division? He’s amazing. Nyota, Scotty, you too.”
Without so much as a hint of subtlety, everyone disperses, leaving you and Leonard alone in the corner of the huge room.
Somehow, you find enough courage to turn to him and ask, “why did you tell me to leave?”
“I’ve answered this question a hundred times,” he sighs, “it was a great job opportunity. You would have been stupid not to take it.”
“No, this time I want the truth.”
He rolls his eyes, “why do you repeatedly insist on having this conversation, knowing exactly how it's going to end?”
You can only just hear him over the pounding of your heartbeat in your ears; rage and anticipation coursing through you as you stand between the doctor and the rest of the Enterprise crew. You’ve already embarrassed yourself last night, you might as well give it one last go before you make your decision.
“Because I want the real answer,” you reply, keeping your voice even, “so we’re going to keep having it until you tell me the truth.”
“Okay, you want my advice?” he says, “take the job and give up your position on the Enterprise so that I can be rid of you and this conversation for good.”
Once again, his words knock the breath from your lungs. You can almost feel the new fractures splitting your heart into even smaller pieces, but the pain moves to the back of your mind as you realise that he did just admit something that he hasn’t before.
“So…” you whisper, searching frantically for your voice, “it was about getting rid of me, not about the job.”
An array of emotions you can’t even attempt to read cross his face in less than a second before he settles on a frown, “look, I don’t have to explain myself to you. If anything, you owe me.”
“I owe you what?”
“An explanation.”
You frown too, “what for?”
“For what you said before you left!” he snaps.
You can practically feel the sets of eyes on your back multiply, more bystanders finding interest in the exchange happening at the back of the room.
“Len, we were at each other’s throats before I left,” you say, lowering your voice, “I’m sure we both said things we didn’t mean.”
You try for a second to remember something deep and personal he’d said to you in your final weeks on the ship, but nothing comes to mind. In fact, all you can remember is petty fighting and childish arguments. It was almost as if neither of you truly wanted to hurt the other, or at least, not acutely. You never brought up the deepest and darkest pieces of pain from each other’s history, knowing it would irreversibly damage the relationship between you. The closest you’ve gotten was last night when you hinted at his divorce, saying he couldn’t finish anything he started, and even then, you felt awful.
“Not that,” he mutters, "what you said after your meeting with the admiral.”
You frown again, “that I got the grant?”
“After that.”
You have to think for a minute, playing back that day in your head as you’ve done a thousand times. Only this time, you allow yourself to remember all of it, without blocking out the parts that made your heart hurt. You gasp quietly when you realise, slowly looking up at him, “y-you’re angry because I said I loved you?”
His expression is the softest you’ve seen it in months, his hazel eyes almost green behind the sadness filling them, “I’m not angry that you said it, I’m angry because you lied.”
Tears begin to blur your vision, but you refuse to let them fall, “why would I lie about that?”
“Don’t bother, alright?” he says before clearing his raspy throat, “I heard you talking to Nyota.”
“When?”
“When you went to meet her, after we- you know, in my office,” his cheeks turn the faintest shade of pink.
You shake your head, as if it should help clear your thoughts, “I’m confused.”
“Do I have to spell it out for you?” he snaps again, though this time with a little less bite.
“Well clearly, I have no idea what is going on!” You don’t care who’s watching anymore, this is the closest you’ve ever been to actually finding out what happened.
He sighs, “You called me, by accident I guess, and I heard you. You told her that you only said it because it was awkward, that you were going to take it back because you got what you wanted, and that Jim-”
“I’ll get Jim to talk to him,” you cut him off, realisation smacking you across the face. You feel dizzy as everything hits you at once and a montage of memories rush through your head. The pieces of the puzzle you’d been trying to solve for months finally fall into place, and you finally know why Leonard broke your heart that day.
“Exactly,” he says, crossing his arms over his chest.
You’ve spent months wondering whether it was because of the job offer itself, or because you got the grant on his behalf, but Leonard wasn’t the type to be jealous of his friends. You wondered if he simply wasn’t ready for a new relationship, or if you’d scared him when you told him you loved him, but he said it first. You even wondered, very briefly, if he’d heard some stupid rumour about you and Jim, since you knew there were some of those around, but you’d spoken about it before, even laughed about it. You never considered that the whole thing could have been one, big, stupid misunderstanding.
Leonard frowns, “You can’t seriously tell me that you had no idea what happened until now.”
“Len, I-”
“No,” he shakes his head, “I really don’t want to-”
“Leonard, please,” you sigh “would you just give me five seconds.”
“You’ve had five months,” he exclaims, “and you still can’t admit it to my face?”
“Because you’re wrong,” you snap.
His frown disappears, “I’m what?”
“You don’t know what you think you know,” you say, clasping your hands over your stomach as another wave of nausea hits you.
"I heard you say it.”
You take a deep breath, trying to calm the nerves coursing through your veins like an electric current. “Yes,” you begin, “I said those things, but not about you. I-It was about the job, I… when I was in the meeting with the admiral, he offered me the job before he approved the grant, and I said yes... but I didn’t mean it. It was awkward and I needed him to say yes, so I accepted, but I never wanted the job. I didn’t want to leave the Enterprise; I didn’t want to leave you. I was in love with you. Jim was going to speak to the admiral for me, say that he couldn’t let me go, the ship needed me, and I had to run the programme, but then... well, you told me to go, so I-”
“Left,” he finishes for you, his eyes glassy as his mind wanders back to that night.
Your heart is thundering so loud you can’t even hear the commotion of the people behind you over the thrum of your pulse. Neither of you dare to speak, you don’t even know what to say. Six whole months of pain and anger, all because of a misunderstanding. If Leonard had asked you about the conversation he overhead, or if you asked him what was wrong instead of just leaving... you could have avoided the worst six months of your life. You feel stupid.
“You must hate me,” he finally says, every bit of anger gone from his voice, “I’m so sorry.”
Before you can respond, he steps to the side and strides right past you. He passes easily through the groups of people enjoying their breakfast, down the stairs, and out of the building.
-
“Ye’re barely off the ground for six months and ye already forget how ta solder straight,” Scotty shouts from the deck below.
You put down your tools and take two steps to lean over the railing and glare down at him, “for your information, I was never very good at soldering.”
He chuckles and waves a hand, returning his attention to the open machinery in front of him, ready to remedy your errors from attempting to fix it earlier. In your defence, you weren’t usually on the tools, but you wanted to be able to join in on the practical portion of the new programme when the time came, so you agreed to a month down in the warp core with Scotty to brush up on your skills. It’s been almost a week without incident, which you considered to be a personal record. Though you’re fairly sure it has nothing to do with your skills and everything to do with not wanting to end up in the MedBay.
Jim’s birthday was a couple of weeks ago, and you still haven’t spoken to Leonard since that morning. After he left, you went straight to Jim and told him you’d be back aboard the Enterprise effective immediately. You quit your job at the academy – luckily you were still within the probationary period – and had all of your belongings packed and shipped to the next Federation planet that the Enterprise is due at. You’ll be picking them up in a few days, but you honestly wouldn’t be too worried if they never showed up. You’re just happy to be home; it’s as if you never left. That is, except for Leonard.
You know you have to give him space, and obviously he wants nothing to do with you right now, so you can’t force yourself upon him even if you’d settle for just friends at this point. Your heart aches in a whole new way whenever you hear his name, but you haven’t yet run into him, and you’re not sure what will happen when you do.
“Shit,” you hiss, quickly pulling away from where you’re working to watch blood drip from your hand, “of course.”
“I told Scotty that it wasn’t a good idea putting a pretty girl like you down here,” Jim says as he wanders in from the corridor.
You scowl at him, “I’ll ignore the misogyny because I’m in pain. Can you get me the first aid kit?”
He chuckles, “I don’t think a bandage is going to cut it; you need stitches.”
“I do not,” you argue, despite the blood creating a small puddle at your feet.
“Yes, you do,” he insists, “and as a bonus, you can give Bones a heart attack.”
You take a clean rag and wrap it around your hand, allowing Jim to help as you ask him, “why would I give him a heart attack?”
He shrugs, “I’m not sure he knows you’re back aboard the ship.”
“Excuse me?”
“I haven’t spoken to him since Yorktown,” he clarifies, “I made sure he was okay after breakfast, but I didn’t tell him that you’d decided to return to the Enterprise. It didn’t seem like the time.”
You’re almost positive if looks could kill, Jim would dead on the floor right now. “But he’s the Chief Medical Officer,” you stress, “he has to know everyone aboard the ship.”
“Yes,” Jim says, “and no, there are a lot of crew members.”
“He would have had to sign me back on!”
Jim can’t help but laugh again at the way your voice cracks. “He’s been sick,” he states, “since we boarded. Doctor Gronan has been standing in for him until yesterday.”
“Doctor Gronan signed me back on,” you mutter to yourself.
“Yep.”
“Then why wouldn’t you tell him?” you exclaim.
Your captain laughs once again, shrugging as he replies, “I thought it would be fun to see how long it took him to find out.”
“This isn’t a game!”
“But it is fun.”
“I’m going to kill you.”
“After you get stitched up, come on,” he sighs, guiding you toward the corridor by your shoulders, “I assume you know the way?”
“I’m familiar,” you reply, dragging your feet into the bright white hallway.
“Excellent, no detours, but first, where’s Scotty?”
“Deck below,” you mumble.
“Thank you,” he gives you a cheeky wink, “now, on your way.”
Your pulse quickens with every step you take toward the MedBay, which you’re pretty sure is why the rag you’re holding begins to soak with blood. Other crew members watch you hurry through the ship with concern, and by the time you reach the MedBay, you’re trailing little red droplets across the floor. The moment Leonard looks up from his PADD, he goes paper white and his eyes practically double in size. Despite being obviously unsettled, he looks good; you could never get sick of seeing him in his uniform.
“Hey,” you say, stepping closer to him in order to deter bystanders from eavesdropping.
He swallows thickly, “hi.”
Another beat of silence passes because you hold up your injured hand, “um, I’m bleeding.”
“Shit, sorry,” he finally notices the bloody rag, “come with me.”
You follow him into one of the treatment rooms and sit on the bed, legs swinging over the side as he pulls the stool and cart over to you.
“Sorry,” he says again as he arranges the equipment on the cart, “I- um, I didn’t know you were back.”
“I know, Jim thought it would be funny.”
He looks up suddenly, that familiar frown knitting his brows.
“I didn’t know,” you clarify, “I assumed you had signed me aboard and were just avoiding me.”
His frown softens and he opens his mouth to reply but hesitates, instead returning his attention to the bloody rag wrapped around your hand. He nods for you to show him, so you extend your arm and allow him to remove the make-shift bandage. You try not to wince when the material pulls on a dried bit of blood, but you can’t help your hand from twitching. Leonard’s own hand cups yours out of instinct; a comforting gesture that wouldn’t mean a thing to you from any other doctor but means everything from Leonard. He looks up at you, as if asking permission to continue touching you, waiting for you to nod before he starts cleaning the cut.
“Let me know if I hurt you,” he mutters.
Ironic... you think, though choose not to say it aloud. You nod again, “okay.”
Another few minutes pass as he finishes cleaning the cut, numbs your skin, and prepares to stitch it closed. He holds the dermal regenerator a few inches from your hand and it begins to whir softly, shooting out a blue beam that sews the skin back together. You let your eyes wander from the healing cut to where the doctor is touching you, his warm skin beneath the glove making yours tingle all the way up your arm and into your chest, waking up the butterflies that live in your rib cage. Their fluttering wings make it hard to breathe, and that familiar sense of anticipation and giddiness takes over any feelings of contempt or anger.
The regenerator stops and he looks up to meet your gaze, his pupils doubling their size, “all done.”
You flex your hand, “feels brand new.”
“Give it a minute,” he says, “keep stretching, and I’ll check it over before you go.”
You watch him pack away the cart and dispose of all the bloody gauze. His hands work fluidly, not once hesitating as his muscle memory tells them where to put each tool or piece of equipment. He pulls his gloves off and for some stupid reason your heart leaps; heat flushes through your whole body, concentrating in a tight ball just below your belly as your mind replays all the things those hands have done to you.
“Let me have a look.”
You willingly put your hand back in his, praying your cheeks aren’t as red as they feel. He presses gently around the faint line where your cut had been, glancing up with each new area he pushes on to see if you wince or react at all.
“Looks good,” he lets go of you hand and rolls back on the stool, “you can go back to work, just don’t lift anything heavy and please wear gloves.”
You try to fight the sheepish grin tugging at your lips, “yes, sir.”
His cheeks flush pink and you can’t help being a little proud. He stands up, avoiding your gaze as he picks up his PADD to check off a few more things, no doubt clearing you to return to work. You slide off the bed and straighten your uniform, trying to think of something else to say so you don’t have to leave. Should you make up an illness, or is that too desperate? This is the most amicable interaction you’ve had in months; you don’t want it to end.
“I jus’ want to say,” he clears his throat, “I am really-”
“I know,” you interrupt, “and it’s okay, you don’t have to apologise.”
He frowns, “you’re not angry?”
You sigh and lean back against the bed, “well, I thought about it, at first, but then realised that I gave up on us just as quickly.”
“What do you mean?”
“You told me to leave, and I left,” you reply, “I knew something was wrong, but I didn’t argue, I didn’t fight it, I just left.”
His frown doesn’t move, only his eyes, raking up and down your body twice before settling on your lips and turning that warmth below your belly into a full-blown bonfire.
“Besides,” you continue, your nerves forcing you to fill the silence, “if I honestly believed I'd heard my boyfriend tell someone that he regretted saying he loved me, I’d probably react the same way... or worse.”
He cracks a small smile and your heart races as if you’d just run five miles, but the light-heartedness on his face disappears just as quickly as it had come. “Ex-boyfriend,” he says.
You frown, “what?”
“You said boyfriend, you meant ‘ex-boyfriend’.”
“Oh,” you nod slowly, “well, actually, I don’t think I remember breaking up.”
He actually laughs, only a short chuckle, but it’s the best thing you’ve heard in months.
“I’m serious!” you insist, laughing despite your words, “neither of us actually said the words.”
His smile fades, and he looks back down at his PADD before you can figure out the new expression on his face, “regardless of words being said, I’m sure other things happened that-”
You cut him off, “what ‘other’ things?”
“I’m not naive,” he chuckles bitterly, “I’m sure there were plenty of Starfleet’s finest that were more than eager to meet the gorgeous new engineer.”
“Oh,” you know your cheeks are now glowing red, “thanks, I think, but- uh, no, I didn’t sleep with anyone.”
He looks up again, a mixture of confusion and something else you can’t quite place written across his face. Panic clouds your thoughts as you wonder whether he has slept with anyone in the time you were away. You hadn’t even considered it, hadn’t tortured yourself with that possibility because deep down he was still yours, it was almost as if a part of you knew it wasn’t over.
“Why not?” he asks.
You shrug, “too heartbroken.”
He drops his PADD on the nearest tabletop, sighing, “you have no idea how sorry I am.”
“Len, I told you-”
“Let me apologise,” he demands, stepping forward until his chest is an inch from your nose, “I need to apologise, because I don’t think I will ever stop hating myself for losing my one reason for existing.”
You gasp and then quickly forget how to breathe, holding the air in your lungs as if the slightest movement would wake you up from whatever wild dream you’d fallen into. You stare up at him, unblinking.
“I’m sorry,” he whispers, hooking a finger beneath your chin.
You still can’t breathe, and your head starts to spin as he slowly closes the distance between your mouths.
“If you want me to stop,” he murmurs, his lips practically brushing yours, “just tell-”
“Shut up,” you mutter, before pushing up onto your toes and pressing your mouth against his.
His hands find your waist and your bodies snap together, like two magnets alone in their own field void of any other gravitational pull. His lips taste the same, his tongue moves exactly the way you know, and he feels like home.
“I’m sorry,” he whispers again, your mouths barely parting before his lips catch your breath again.
You step back until your bum bumps into the bed, and with the slightest effort, he lifts you onto it. His hands spread your knees, allowing him to nestle between them as his touch makes its way up your body to your neck, the heat of his skin on yours pulling the knot below your belly even tighter. You slide forward ever-so-slightly, unable to stop yourself from grinning when you feel the hardness of him rub between your legs.
He groans and tightens a hand around the front of your neck, “careful, darlin’.”
Your grin grows wider, “I missed you.”
He pulls back and his hands return to your waist. His skin is flushed and his pupils blown wide, his lips swollen and red, and you’re almost convinced you’ve died and gone to heaven. “I missed you too,” he says, before pressing a gentle kiss against your lips.
“Do you two know there are cameras in here?” Jim asks, appearing at the door and startling both of you, “or do you just have some kinky preference for being watched?” His smirk stretches from one ear to the other, and he attempts to appear casual by leaning against the door frame but his bright eyes are sparkling with mischief.
“Do you watch all the surveillance footage, or do you just have some kinky preference for the MedBay?” you retort, your fingers curling into the fabric of Leonard’s shirt to keep him in place.
He doesn’t even try to turn around for obvious reasons in his pants, but throws an irritated scowl over his shoulder, “really, Jim?”
Jim chuckles, “what’s the matter, Bones?”
“You,” Leonard snaps, “you’re the matter!”
“Why can’t you turn around?” he asks, his voice laced with evil intent.
You reach for the small pillow at the top of the bed and lob it across the room at him, “would you fuck off?”
He laughs again, “no need to be so rude, I just wanted to see my two best friends!”
Leonard rolls his eyes, his grip on your hips tightening, “you’re about to see a lot more than you’ve bargained for if you don’t fuck off.”
Your stomach flips and a warm, tingly sense of anticipation spreads throughout your whole body.
“Fine,” Jim sighs, pushing off the door frame and taking a step back, “I’ll just watch the cameras.”
“Get out!” Leonard exclaims, turning around as Jim cackles and hurries away.
Leonard presses the button for the door to slide shut and another button to lock it.
“You don’t think he’s really going to watch the cameras, right?” you ask.
He returns to the space between your legs, splaying his hands across your thighs where your dress has ridden up, “probably.” His hands slide up under your dress and you instinctively straighten your spine, tilting your head back in a desperate attempt to get your mouth closer to his.
He stays just out of reach, his breath hot on your lips as he speaks, “so you better be a good girl and put on a show.”
END.
#karl urban#leonard mccoy#star trek#bones#jim kirk#captain kirk#leonard mccoy x reader#star trek fanfiction#star trek fanfic#bones x reader#oneshot#imagine#bones oneshot#bones imagine#one shot#leonard mccoy imagine#leonard mccoy one shot#leonard mccoy oneshot#bones one shot#chris pine#fanfiction#fanfic
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Not A Doctor
Bones McCoy x Reader
Masterlist - Join My Taglist!
Written for my personal fic writing challenge for 2024, Sophie's Year of Fic! Featuring a new fic being posted every Friday, all year long :)
Fandom: Star Trek
Summary: Bones' SO hurts themselves on an away mission and has to stitch themselves up as well as they can to buy time for a med evac to the Enterprise
Word Count: 1,533
Category: Fluff, Humor, a little bit of Angst
Putting work into an AI program without permission is illegal. You do not have my permission. Do not do it.
"Shit," I hissed, pressing a hand to my side as I slid down the wall. When I finally got up the courage to pull my hand back and look, it came away with a lot more blood than I'd hoped to find. I'd fallen pretty far and managed to avoid any broken bones based on my pain levels, but the wound in my side was gaping and looked concerningly serious.
I could practically hear the extended bridge crew chorusing "I told you so" from here.
As if on cue, my communicator beeped. I grimaced, but managed to take it out of my bag and open it to respond.
"What's up?" I groaned.
"Y/N, where are you?" came the voice of Jim Kirk, one of my best friends and the captain of the Enterprise. "Scotty's reporting he can only find two targets to beam up."
Dammit. That figured.
"I'm... not totally sure. I was trying to follow the signature on my tricorder to that plant I've been looking for when the ground just gave way under me. I'm not sure how far I fell, but I hit something pretty hard on the way down and I've got... quite the gash in my side."
Silence on the other end for a few moments, then:
"Hang tight. We're coming to find you."
The communicator hung up with a click, and I sighed, ignoring the flare of pain in my side. I had faith in Jim's determination and ability to find me, especially with Spock here helping him, but I still needed to do something if I wanted to be alive when they found me.
Thankfully, I'd watched my boyfriend, Doctor Leonard McCoy, stich people up often enough that I felt fairly confident I could do a passable job on myself. I dug some sewing supplies out of my bag that I hadn't removed from my last away mission misadventure, and pulled the hem of my shirt up to get a better look at the wound.
I grimaced, gritting my teeth and trying to prepare for this. I'd been so excited to join Kirk and Spock on this away mission. This planet was supposed to have one of the rarest plants in the galaxy, and I'd been looking forward to finding it since I'd first heard we'd be coming here. And now, I was at the bottom of this pit or cave or whatever, slowly bleeding out, without even a picture of the plant to show for it.
Ugh.
I tried to focus on my breathing as I threaded a needle and put it to my skin. I knew the wound needed to be disinfected before I totally closed it, but I didn't have anything on me to do that with, and I knew Bones would be able to take care of it for me if I could manage to get back to him.
I took a few deep breaths to steel myself, then stuck the needle through. I swore loudly and kept up a steady stream of expletives as I sewed up the wound. I pulled it closed as tightly as I dared, then held my jacket to my waist to try to staunch the remainder of the bleeding.
I sighed, long and hard, then leaned my head back against the wall of whatever hole I'd fallen into. I had no idea how long those stitches had taken me, but it certainly hadn't been quick. Hopefully, it wouldn't be too much longer before I heard Jim and Spock stumbling down some passage towards me.
I focused on deep breaths as the pain continued to throb in my side, completely zoning out to the time and environment around me. Finally, I heard some shuffling movement from a slightly more gradual incline up ahead of me. The voices of my friends echoed out, curious and searching.
"Y/N!"
"I'm here!" I called back, my voice a little weaker than normal. I cleared my throat, then tried again. "Here!"
A moment later, my friends came into view. Jim grinned at me as Spock started scanning the space, probably trying to decide on the best way to get me out of here.
"How're you holding up?" asked Jim. I forced a smile.
"Living the dream."
He scoffed, then moved to crouch beside me and put one of my arms over his shoulder.
"Spock! Come help me."
"We'll need to get around the corner and most of the way back up the incline we came down to reach a spot where Mr. Scott can register us," said Spock as he joined us. "There seems to be some property of this rock that's prohibiting the transporter signal from reaching us."
"Great," I huffed, grimacing as my friends pulled me to my feet. Even resting most of my weight on them, I was still seeing spots. "This is gonna be great."
Between the three of us, somehow, we managed to get back into transporter range. I almost lost consciousness at one point, but we'd paused, and I'd managed to pull myself back from the brink. When the Enterprise's transporter room finally materialized before me, the relief was palpable, not least of all because Bones was waiting for me.
"Y/N," he said, jumping to attention and rushing onto the pad to replace Jim at my side. With Spock's help, we started moving immediately for the Med Bay. "What happened?"
"I was following the signature of the plant I was looking for on my tricorder. Then all of a sudden, the ground gave way underneath me. It wasn't a straight drop, I don't think, but I fell a pretty long way, bouncing off the rock slide and the walls of the cave I fell into on the way down. I'm bruised, but I don't think it's anything bad besides the cut on my stomach."
Bones nodded. "We'll get you to Med Bay and make sure."
Luckily, my boyfriend was very good at staying calm and focused in a crisis for his patients. He was completely in the zone as he and Spock helped me into a bed once we reached Med Bay, and then Bones started checking my vitals and assessing my injuries. I watched him carefully for any break in his usual bedside manner to tell me if I needed to be worried about something, but none came.
Hopefully that was a good sign, and not just because he was an incredible doctor.
Finally, after what felt like an eternity to me, Bones returned from his testing and reappeared by my bedside. His hands were on his hips, but he seemed calmer, and definitely out of intense doctor mode.
"Alright, the good news is you'll be just fine. But I'm still gonna need to disinfect the wound and stitch you up," he said. I gave him the best smile I could muster.
"Sounds like a plan."
He sighed, then gently lifted my shirt high enough to give him access to the gash in my side. The light touch of his fingertips sent goosebumps along my skin, but I did my best to ignore them, especially as Bones frowned.
"What the hell did you do to yourself?" he asked, not looking away from his work on my side.
"Uh... I slammed into a rock. We covered this already, remember?"
"No, I didn't mean your injury." Bones paused and looked up at me, the smallest smile tugging at his lips. "I meant these stitches. Yikes."
I scoffed and rolled my eyes, making Bones chuckle as he got back to work.
"Okay, whatever. I'm a biologist, not a doctor, dammit. I think I did a pretty good job, considering the circumstances."
"Mm, I guess so. Barely."
"Hey!" I laughed, hitting him lightly in the shoulder. "You better knock it off or I'm gonna start practicing my stitches on you."
Bones snorted, but I could see the smile on his face as he continued working. Thanks to the medical facilities of the Enterprise, it barely hurt as he undid my messy job and redid it with a much better one of his own.
"So... what are you doing after this?" I asked after a few long moments of letting him work in peace. He paused to look up at me again, one eyebrow raised.
"Don't tell me you're hitting on your own boyfriend after only the low-level painkillers I gave you?"
"I can and will hit on my own boyfriend whenever I want, no painkillers required. But I was mostly asking if you had other patients to deal with after me, or if you'd be free to come cuddle on the couch and eat junk food with me. I think it'd really help speed up my recovery process."
Bones' mouth quirked into a smile again as he put the finishing touches on my stitches.
"Well if it's for the wellness of a patient... I think Nurse Chapel might be willing to take over from me for the rest of the day."
"Thank goodness for Christine."
Bones and I shared a smile, then he returned to his work and I watched him contentedly. Obviously, life and death situations on away missions were never ideal—but I couldn't really bring myself to be upset about how this one had played out, even if I hadn't managed to get my plant in the end.
****************
Everything Taglist: @rosecentury @kmc1989
#sophie's year of fic#star trek#bones mccoy#star trek fanfiction#bones mccoy x reader#star trek oneshot#star trek imagine#star trek x reader#bones mccoy fanfiction#bones mccoy oneshot#bones mccoy imagine#leonard bones mccoy#leonard mccoy#jim kirk#spock#star trek tos#star trek aos#dr mccoy#leonard mccoy x reader#leonard mccoy oneshot
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[ 🥐 ] LOVE ALLIANCE : ALLIANCE D'AMOUR ⸻ MEET : y/n l/n's crew | k.bakugo x gn! reader smau series
phantom hero : mirage - y/n l/n → quirk : phantom touch - allows the user to create temporary constructs that can interact with the physical environment. these constructs are only visible to the user and can be anything from simple shapes (walls/shields/etc) to more complex forms (weapons/creatures/etc). [ a/n: i havent decided if y/n's quirk will be relevant enough but if it is i'll make sure to give more info about it! i wanted to give a quirk just incase ykwim. ] → a well loved and popular hero. praised for their skills and charming personality. → gets moped into dating scandals for even the slightest interactions with other pro heroes 😭. → had a crush on bakugo in highschool
zero gravity hero : uravity - ochaco uraraka → founder of gravity guidance : a quirk counseling enterprise that helps young children/students with their quirks. → might have returning feels for a certain ua teacher. → has occasionally hosted game and talk shows!
rain season hero : froppy - tsuyu asui → girly is does NOT gaf about rumors or scandals about her. → will proudly say or tweet whatever is on her mind (her pr team has given up i fear). → she has many amphibians and exotic bugs as pets.
ua teacher : deku - izuku midoriya → his embers last forever. although he is significantly weaker than before, he works to regain his strength. → yes his classmates are still actively funding for a hero suit. → currently he teaches at ua academy.
speed hero : ingenium - tenya iida → he is also an author. → he enjoys writing in his free time, it helps him feel calm. → mother of the group, always looking out for his friends and assuring that their needs are met.
hot and cold hero : shoto - shoto todoroki → does modeling on the side. → not hard to spot his face on a big billboard. → donates a lot of his income to quirk therapy and villain rehabilitation centers.
ᯓ★» LOVE ALLIANCE !
masterlist | next >
ᯓ★» ALLIANCE SECRETS !
୨ৎ : shoto got his brother touya into modelling too! although it took a bit of convincing, he eventually agreed. it's not his main career at the moment, but he's enjoying it as he tries to figure out what he wants to do in life. ୨ৎ : tsu has doxxed MANY people (haters). beware before you post smack about her or her friends because trust you'll find your ip address in your comments. ୨ৎ : iida also likes painting! he mostly paints geometrical shapes with muted colors when he's going through writers block. ୨ৎ : ochaco is a big fashion girlie! when she's not feeling tired or lazy, trust she'll glam out! (pro hero money PAYS) ୨ৎ : izuku has many fan boys and girls of his own (just like how he fanboyed over all might in his student days). he is grateful for their admiration!
ᯓ★» AUTHOR'S NOTE !
my au my rules i don't want anyone of you commenting on izuku's quirk situation. "ermm that's not accurate to the lore 🤓☝️" SHUSHH. do you guys like the little random things i gave them to do on their side!!!! also also pretend they do have those official tick marks bc i added those later but felt lazy and didn't update the screenshots.
ᯓ★» TAGLIST !
( comment on masterlist to be added + pls check ur settings if you're unable to be tagged ) @chsvok @ch3rryjampi3 @emmab3mma @pikachuzhc @cholios @zaiban2989 @hearts4heidi @ikissfade @themultifandomgirl @god-hangry-otter @solecitoszn @sunlix143 @rikislove @fackeraccount @chaoslibra @4rmins @harryzcherry @luvvvamy
©loveriotss — all rights reserved to me. don’t try to copy/steal my work. do not use any of my ideas/translate my work without my permission.
#loveriotss#( 🥐 :: love alliance )#mha#bnha#my hero academia#boku no hero academia#smau#social media au#bnha smau#mha smau#bakugo katsuki#katsuki bakugo#bakugo x reader#bakugou katsuki#katsuki bakugo x reader#katsuki x reader#katsuki x you#bakugo x you#mha bakugo katsuki#mha bakugo#gn reader#x gn reader#male reader#x male reader#female reader#x female reader#smau series#izuku midoriya#tenya iida#ochaco uraraka
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Couples Costume
Miranda Hilmarson x Reader
Miranda convinces you to do a couples costume for Halloween.
Author's Note: YAYYYY!! This is the first week of Spooky Season with @alexusonfire!!!! This weeks prompt was couples costumes and what could be cuter than matching with Miranda??? <33
The constable dropped onto the couch next to you, swiftly turning her body and reclining back so her head rested in your lap. She was finally able to relax for the evening now that she returned home from work and showered.
“How was work, honey?” You ask, eyes not leaving as you scroll with one hand and use your other to play with her hair.
Miranda held up her phone displaying an email she received, showing a party invite, “A friend is hosting a Halloween party! We should wear a couples costume!”
“A couples costume?”
There was a glint of mischief in Miranda’s eye, “Yeah! It could be fun!”
“Hmmm…” You smile down at the blonde, swiping some hair away from her face. You brush your knuckles along her cheek, “You know what, Andy? If you can find a cute costume for us to wear, then we can wear a couples costume, okay?”
“Deal!”
—
“Try it on, then come out and show me!” Miranda teetered back and forth on the bed where she sat criss-crossed. There was a huge smile plastered across her face that caused your lips to twitch as you attempted to remain serious.
“Miranda, please…” You force a frown, staring down at the red fabric in your hands. The constable had been planning these Halloween costumes for months and now that it was the night of the costume party, there was no backing out.
“Please, baby! I know you will look so cute.”
You didn’t want to disappoint the constable, but you didn’t know anything about this tv show. Miranda was the Star Trek fan, not you. What were you supposed to say at the party when asked about this costume?
“Can’t I just be myself for Halloween? Or I could just wear my costume from last year?”
“No! Come on! Just try on the uniform.” Miranda’s eyes went big and she intertwined her fingers, holding them up in a begging motion. God, she was so cute. Miranda’s pleading eyes and pout were always able to break you down.
“Okay…”
“Yay!!” Miranda jumped up on her knees, throwing her arms around your shoulders before yanking you towards her. You were feeling immediately better about your decision to agree to wear the costume as Miranda began peppering your face with kisses.
—
“Hello, Captain.” Robin teased as soon as she saw you enter the room with Miranda. She smirked as she observed your bright red captain’s uniform.
Miranda draped an arm over your shoulders, a great big smile graced her lips. Miranda’s love of the Star Trek franchise began to show as she began explaining both of your costumes to Robin. “Don’t they look so cute? Captain L/n of the USS Enterprise reporting for duty! I am their chief of security!”
The constable donned a yellow Star Trek uniform indicating she was a part of the security crew on the starship. She had been so excited to put it on and had been using Star Trek references all night because of it.
Robin hadn’t taken her eyes off of you as she secretly adored the way you made her best friend so happy. She was clearly amused with your couples costume. “I didn’t take you for a Trekkie, L/n.”
Glancing from Miranda, who now rested her chin on your shoulder, to Robin, you rolled your eyes in jest, “Occupational hazard of dating Hilmarson over here.”
“What are you supposed to be, Rob?” Miranda asked, her hands winding around your stomach as she spoke to her best friend. Even after years of dating, you never grew tired of the physical affection she gave you.
“I’m your worst nightmare.” Robin wore a shit eating grin as she raised her glass towards you and Miranda before giving you a nod and walking off.
—
When you returned home from the party, tispy Miranda took her time in removing her costume. You could tell she was absolutely in love with the chief of security outfit as she settled onto the couch in it with a bowl of cereal to watch reruns of Star Trek: The Next Generation. You curled up next to her, clad in one of her shirts, as you allowed her to educate you on the Star Trek universe.
Midway through the fourth episode of the evening, you felt Miranda’s body lean into yours. Her large hand gripped your forearm, her voice quiet and genuine. “I had so much fun tonight. Thank you so much for agreeing to wear matching costumes with me.”
You thought back on how disgruntled you had originally been about the outfit, but knowing Miranda was made happy made it all worth it. You offer a simple reply before turning your head and planting a kiss on her forehead. “Of course, Andy…”
“You make me so happy.” Miranda’s voice came again, a little more hoarse as if she were about to cry.
You turned to hold her face, hoping you could make her giggle or smile instead of conjuring tears. You give her cheeks a squeeze, nuzzling your nose against hers, “Awh.. Andy. You make me so happy.”
Miranda sniffled once, but you spoke once more to distract her from the oncoming tears, “Now please tell me what Riker is up to in this episode. I can’t tell which head he is controlled by.”
The constable giggled at the innuendo and turned her attention back to the screen, explaining the sexually precarious situation that William Riker always seemed to be getting himself into.
Taglist: @charymobile, @bri-sonat, @weemswife, @smutuniversesblog, @opheliauniverse, @renravens, @whenyouhaveanobsession, @shyladyfan, @rubberduckiesbathing, @mcufanisme, @peanutbutterprincess, @larissaoftarthweems, @lvinhs, @myzzjolanda, @principal-weems09, @imlike-so-gaydude, @emilynissangtr, @xuukoo, @brienneswife, @oculusalien, @sweetderacine, @giogwensversion, @gela123, @thevillagegay, @katiemcgrathsbitch1, @naomi-m3ndez, @mysaviorfalsegod, @salems-spaghettios, @imgayforwoman69, @bychrissi, @bitchr-mkay, @h-doodles, @alexusonfire, @weemssapphic, @lilfartbox1, @mountain-bikingwitch, @aemilia19, @agathaandgwenslesbian, @gay-frogs08
#miranda hilmarson#miranda hilmarson x reader#top of the lake#gwendoline christie#fanfic#gwen christie#spooky season
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Beyond the Bat: Pt I 🦇
So I read a story a couple of months ago. It was about Terry McGinnis searching for and bringing all that Batboys (Ex:Dick,Jason,Tim, and Damian) back to the manor as an aging Bruce Wayne begins to die. I liked the story and premise of it. It made be think of stuff I wrote a long time ago and maybe I could write something similar but different. Especially with a reader instead of Terry. So let me know what you think. ;)
Batfamily x batsis!reader
Synopsis: Three years since Bruce’s disappearance, and with all of Batman’s former Robins gone, Gotham is under protection of the Batwoman, but she will need help to take on one of Gotham biggest Civil Wars ever.
—————
A seasoned and experienced Vickie Vale comes on the screen of a television. “It’s been three years since the mysterious disappearance of Billionaire-Philanthropist Bruce Wayne, Wayne was on a flight to Shanghai for a business trip when the flight was thrown off course. Still to this day the flight, crew or Mr. Wayne have been seen. Wayne Enterprise Chairman Lucius Fox released a statement.”
—
“Today marks three years since Mr. Wayne disappearance. I-I was originally supposed to born the plane but Bruce…he felt that he needed to go instead.” He swallows,” After consulting with authorities and with permission from the Wayne Estate I come before you to declare Bruce Wayne as dead. Normally this is something done after seven years,but the family has asked for this closure. We respect their wishes. No further common.” He leaves as several reports and journals ask question after question.
——
Vickie returns, “This was from the press conference earlier today. A private memorial service will be held for Wayne early next week. We from the GCN family as well as Gotham Thank you for your contribution Mr.Wayne and may you find peace wherever you are. I’m Vickie Vale and have a good night.”
————
Gotham City was a sea of old rotten gothic buildings and shiny overgrown skyscrapers. Gotham had been the early stages of becoming more a city of tomorrow. Though the plans had fallen without Bruce. Most of north Gotham was now being rebuilt and renovated, the lights of the older city still shinned just a light more dim due to the new LED light that consumed the night.
Sirens filled the night and busy traffic and honking on every corner. Three squad cars fly down the road chasing after two armed trucks.
Gunfire rings the night and civilian duck away from the street.
“Pull over! This is GCPD!” The cars race onto the bridge and barrel pass cars causing some minor accidents in its wake.
“Lenny,should we stop?” A rookie driver swerves from running into a gas truck. The goon beside him pulls off his skii mask and takes an assault rifle.
“And risk getting thrown into a cell, I’d rather die than let the boss know we got caught, keep drivin.”
Lenny takes the gun and starts firing towards the squad cars. Taking out of the tires causing it to crash into a three car accident.
“Pigs, still too slow for Rupert Throne men.” The car speeds up and then faint sound a ringing as the goons look at each other.
“Did you hear that?” The car jerks as they’re rammed into. “The fuck?”
The turn to see the Batmobile flying towards them.
“It’s the fucking Bat!” The driver floors the gas and takes the exit into East Gotham. The take a sharp turn and rush down the road.
The Batmobile rams into the truck again and the driver runs over a bus stop and light rail.
“Do something!” He shouts. Lenny takes the gun and fires at the car. The bullets fly off the car without a scratch.
“Shit.” The car speeds besides them and slide swipe the truck. It barrels over the Batmobile and crashes into a store front. The goons groan. Lenny takes a pistol and leans out the window.
The Batmobile is parked on the other side of the room but it’s not moving.
“Where’d he gooooooo-“ he fires the gun as he yanked from the window and the sound of punches and grunts are heard. The lanky drive makes a run for it but only get five feet before his foot his tied and he pulled across the ground and pulled up toward the truck.
“Help!!”
The figure leaps down and towers over him. It draws closure until the grab him by the shirt.
“Where’s Throne?” A gruff female voice snarls.
“Look-lady I don’t know.” He punched in the stomach.
“I won’t ask twice.” She grips him tighter.
“He fled this morning, we were supposed to take this stuff to the docks and that’s it I swear.” He cries.
Batwoman grins, “That was so hard was it.” And she punches him in the face knocking him out cold.
Squad cars and a transport truck arrive seconds later. Another black Police van arrives and Commissioner Barbara Gordon wheels her way to the scene.
“Another one of Throne men?” The older woman pushes her glass up. She huffs, “Any word on where he went?”
“He’s left this morning, knowing him he told his men one place and went in the complete opposite direction.” Batwoman holds a phone out and hands it to the Commissioner.
“You think he’d left something at his mansion, he’s not a sharp as he used to be. He’s getting sloppy with his trails.” She turns in her chair as Batwoman hoped into his car.
“I’ll find out.” The car raced down the street towards the outskirts of the city.
“Alfred.” Alfred appears on the screen. He’s more weather and more grey than normal but the older man is still able to assist anyway he can.
“I see you have stopped the stolen goods from reaching the Harbour, I take it as that will conclude your night?”
“Not likely, Rupert Throne’s men said he fled town this morning, any activity on his bank accounts, or the offshore ones?”
“You’d think a man of his age would learn to stop his shenanigans,but I digress. Three days ago $100,000 was withdrawn from his checking account. Nothing sense.”
Batwoman nods, “I’m heading to his house, Barbara thinks he’s getting sloppy and I agree.”
“Very well ma’am,I will be here if you need anything.”
——-
Batwoman drops down in front of the doors to the office and pushes it open. She swiftly moves inside and feels the air is stiff.
She scans the room and sees that it looks slightly messy. Papers scattered around the room and desk, the fire is long gone and it’s cold. The chairs at pushed to the ground and safe is wide open. She glides to it and scans it.
“His finger prints are recent. At least..three days old.” The glances into the safe to find it empty.
She worlds around the find the door toward the hallway ajar. She ventures into the dim hallway. She turns a corner and is shocked at the scene before her.
“Agent A, I’m sending live footage to the Batcomputer.”
“My word, it’s a massacre.” The hallway is full of Throne’s men dead, blood, painting the marble tiles and splattered across the walls.
“Who could have done such butchery?” Alfred asks. Batwoman check the body of one of the men.
Batwoman stands up,” judging by the smell of decomposing and state of the bodies the time of death was 72 hours ago.” She passed by the remaining bodies until she comes to two large wooden doors with blood splattered and a dagger embedded in it. She pushes it and across the room his the master bed with Rupert Throne’s body.
“That smell, he’s been here for just as long.”
“Dear Lord, and no one knew.”
She scans his body and finds a large gash in his chest.
“He was stabbed with a sword.” She scans his hand and find gun power. She finds the gun on his bed and she able to tell he used it.
She looks at the door and sees blood. She scans it and it doesn’t match the blood from the hallway or Rupert’s. She finds a blood trail the leads to the balcony. Old bloody bandages are found along with the bullet.
“Seems like whoever was there wasn’t able to do the job without getting injured. I can’t track any blood trails it been to long and the rain has washed it away.”
“I’ve already notified Ms. Gordon she’s in route.
Batwoman looks toward the city across the bridge. “Something’s missing Alfred, and I’m going to find out.”
——-
The Batmobile races through the waterfall and down the platform until it stop. Batwoman climbs out and takes the lift down toward the Batcomputer where Alfred sits and the computer with a cup of tea.
“And how was the rest of the night ma’am?” She pulls off the cowl and pushes her dark locks from her face.
“There’s assassins back in the city.” She begins typing and pulls up the three other crime scenes.
The two look at each one. A victim with either a single large gash or several closely net ones are the on the screen.
“It’s not the small killer, the one that killed Throne and his men are different than these three. These victims were struggling and suffered. Throne’s was quick.”
“As quick as having a sword shoved into your chest can be I presume.” H sips his tea and stands with his cane. He moved quietly as he always did but a little more slower.
Y/n sighs, “Is he awake?”
Alfred stops at the elevator and nods. “He’s been up for sometime, I’ll prepare breakfast.”
Y/n stands up and was to the display cases. All different suits.
Starting with a few of Bruce’s old suits, then the original Robin and Batgirl suits. Finally she stops at of last suits. Bruce’s last suit was in mint condition as he left it.
She turns to the empty case and start placing her gear in it.
—-
She emerges from the office and ties her hair up waking into the kitchen.
“Mommy!” A little boy with brown hair and blue eyes smile with syrup all over his face. Y/n wipes his cheeks and smiles.
“Did you sleep well?” The five year old boy nods while eating his food.
“Finish up so I can take you to school.” She walks toward Alfred who’s making a plate for her.
“It still feels weird to leave her sometimes.” She takes the mug from him as well and sips on her coffee.
“Master Bruce wanted to be sure you were safe while he was gone. I don’t think he indeed for it to be permanent but he enjoyed the company as do I.” Y/n rolled her eyes.
“If you say so, though I will say we enjoy it with you Alfred. Even considering the circumstances.” Alfred gives her a weak smile and begins washing dishes.
“I guess most Assistants don’t get his kind of attention, or is it due to the fact I keep Bruce on his toes.”
Alfred smiles, “It had been sometime since someone annoyed him the way you did, and I think it loved having someone to color with again.” He glances at Rowan who has finished his food and brings the plate to Alfred.
“What do we say Rowan?”
“Thank you Alfie.” He sings. Alfred smiles warmly at the kid.
“You’re very welcome, now run along and get your shoes so you can go to school.” Rowan runs out the room and Y/n hums.
“These Assassins, do you think they killed Bruce?” She asks. The room is still.
“I don’t know, but I must say I wouldn’t be surprised. I’ll contact Ms. Gordon and see if she has any information.”
Y/n places her mug down and walks to the foyer where Rowan has his shoes on with his backpack.
She slides into her sneakers and grabs her keys. “Let’s go kid.”
———-
After dropping off Rowan Y/n pushed through the doors of Wayne Enterprises. Some of the staff waved at her while some held other emotions.
She walked past the front desk and into the elevator towards the top floor. She is met the receptionist Sara who doesn’t look up from her computer.
“Good Morning, do you have an appointment with Mr. Fox?”
“Really Sara.” The ginger grins and looks toward the woman.
“How are you hun?”
“I’m good, about as good as anyone.” The double doors open and Lucius waves her inside.
“I’ll talk with you later.” Y/n walked into the large office where Lucius turned to an old chest table and unlocked hidden elevator. They take it down in the underground bunker.
“So what have you crafted this time?” She grins with her arms crossed over her chest eyeing the new prototypes.
He nods takes a blue batarang, he throws it and it instantly electrifies the dummy.
“Fancy.”
Lucius picks up a device and hands it over to Y/n. “This was something Bruce wanted crafted, I’m still getting it fine tuned but it’s useable. Alfred filled me on our new decline of population use it and it will instantly capture and give a small concentrated burst of energy to those wrapped in it. Should help should you get out numbered by assassins.”
“How thoughtful, I appreciate it. Though I’m sure you giving me new tech isn’t the only reason you wanted to see me so soon. What’s going on?”
He takes a seat and sighs. “Bruce’s memorial is next week. They’re gonna be some changes with stuff around here. Now I’m not leaving per se but with him…gone. My attention will need to be focused more on the business side for a while. I’ve asked Luke to come home he’ll be helping craft some more stuff for you while I’m busy.”
She nods. “I understand, I appreciate you still being able to help.”
He gets to his feet slowly, “My kids now I’d never leave this unless I died. But with his services coming there are something’s that will change for you too I’m sure.”
“I asked what will happen to the manor and the cave. Alfred it’s not just his decision,what does that mean?”
Lucius nods, “Bruce’s son will have to decide what will become of his estate. And they’ll all have to agree,not sure how that’ll go.”
The exit the elevator and the office returns to normal. “Let me know how the device works.” Y/n thanks him before leaving and returning to the manor.
She immediately enters the cave, where Alfred is waiting.
“Ms. Gordon is on the line for you.” Y/n sits her purse down and answers.
“What’s wrong Commissioner?”
“You’re not gonna believe this, the mayor was just killed in his office. How fast can you get down here?”
———
Batwoman emerges from the corner of the office. Barbara looks frustrated as the CSI team dust for prints, take pictures and exam the mayor’s corpse.
“When did you find him?” Batwoman strolls toward the body as a few tech move away.
“Just after lunch, his wife found him.” Batwoman scans the body. She notices the same claw marks and a golden dagger imbedded in his chest.
She takes it out and glances at it. The craftsmen was old but it was just as good as if it was made yesterday.
She returns to the Commissioner who she shows the blade to in a clear bag.
“I’ve never seen it before, can’t say it isn’t something new for use.”
“I don’t think this is a common killer this is the work of something more sinister.” Barbara nods and something catches her eye. It’s a small piece of paper with the same dagger holding it into the wall.
Batwoman takes it and unfolds the paper. She read it and turns to the Commissioner.
“I have to go.” Before Barbara can question her she’s already gone from the balcony.
——
As nightfall begins to sit in Batwoman lands on a rooftop of a hotel with the red neon lights of the building flashing.
She scans empty rooftop and comes to a stop, she dodges left as three morning stars are sent flying. She throws smoke and evades another wave of the weapons.
She backflips from a sword attack and disarms the person causing them to stumble. She begins to fight the ninja and is hit a few times.
“You are no match for me, impostor.” She spats. The ninja kicks Batwoman back and she stumbles giving the ninja time to drive a dagger into his thigh.
“You are nothing like your Predecessor. He was a lot more quicker.” She kick Batwoman who punches her in the side.
Ninja regains her balance and glares at her. “You’ll pay.” She picks up the sword and turns to the her.
“Who are you?” The ninja draws her blade at her throat.
“I am apart of the League of Assassins those who don’t want to be apart of the sorry and pathetic League it as become. Me and my faction are purists who only serve Ra Al Ghul and we will complete his mission. Neither you or this court will stop us.”
“What—court.” The ninja chuckles, “You don’t know, the Court of Owls. Your predecessor was on to them before they killed him. They will try to take Gotham back but we will defeat them, we already have the last known location of the Pits something they can’t recreate, they’ll to will bow before greatness—
Batwoman knocks the woman down and disarms her once more. The two are in a fight for the sword and Batwoman pulls the Assassin way and pulls off her mask.
The woman has a short black bob with a white strike throw her hair.
“Who,are you?” Batwoman huffs. She yells as a dagger is driven into her back.
“Mistress are you hurt?” Another assassin yanks the blade out of Batwoman.
She grins, “I am.” She gets her feet. “My name will be the last thing you hear before the poison kills you, I’m Nyssa and don’t worry about Gotham I’ll take good care of it.” And true to her wound everything went blurry and fuzzy. The last thing Y/n felt was hot then cold and everything faded to black.
————
The flashes of light, sound of being and muffled voices come in and out before slowly Y/n wakes up in the cave to the faint beeping of machines. She sits up and groans as a hand is placed on her’s.
“Barbara?” The older woman nods and squeezes her hand.
“Are you alright the poison nearly killed you?” Y/n tries to sit up but is pushed back down by Barbara.
“You need to rest, Leslie and Alfred worked on you for hours to make you stable you need to give your body time to heal.” She offers her a cup of water which Y/n takes in on gulp.
“Who got me off the rooftop?” Her voice is gruff.
“No, Alfred called in some help.” They both turned to a woman Y/n never wanted to see, at least she hoped.
“Hi kitten.”
“Hello,Selina.” Barbara wheeled out of the room and Selina drew closer taking her spot.
“Alfred called me, he was worried. I happened to be back in—“
“…I don’t care why you’re back, or what you’ve come to steal. I don’t want your help.” Selina kept a somewhat vague smile.
“I understand you hate me for leaving you-“
“My entire life was spent in and out of neighbors houses, in the system because you kept getting sent back to Blackgate. You were never there for me, you or my father you talked on and on about. I’m twenty-five and still don’t know who he is or was knowing you. So I don’t need your help. Not now and not again.” Y/n laid back down and grumbled in pain turning to look at her monitor. “You can go Selina.”
Selina nodded and exited the room. A few moments later Alfred entered and sighed.
“Ms. (L/N) You do know the extent of your injury. I needed to remind you what could have happened if Ms. Kyle wasn’t in the vicinity?”
“….”
He sighs,”Very well, while you were done Ms. Gordon and I had to find the Assassin next move. They’re going to kill everyone in their way in order to defeat one another I hate to say it but we do need the assistance.”
If looks could Alfred thought to himself. “I assume you I’m not referring to Miss Kyle, you’re going to need more than one person to help you take on two deadly threats.”
Against his advice Y/n gets to her feet and exits the medical bay and made a beeline for the computer and begins typing away until four files appear on screen.
“He didn’t talk much about them.” She mumbles to herself.
“They all had their own problems and struggles with Master Bruce. But they all knew when he needed the help, I just pray you’ll ask unlike he wouldn’t.”
“Where can I find them,most of these files are four years old and no known addresses for any of them?”
Alfred moved to the side as Barbara wheeled up to the computer and began typing away as if no time had passed.
“Dick will be easy to find, maybe not to recruit. He owns a martial art and gymnastic studio in East Bludheaven. Tim lives in New York he mostly keeps quiet with attending tech events. The others will take me time to find them, they tend to go off the grid.”
Y/n nod, “I drive out in the morning—“
“I’ll take you to Bludheaven myself, I’ve asked Ms. Gordon to look after Master Rowan for a few nights if that’s okay will you?”
Y/n nods,” I’ll pack.”
———
Stepping onto the curb as a sharp wind bits through the air. Y/n pushes open the door into a dojo. A group of kids are doing routines.
She watches for a moment taking in the warm environment before someone walks behind her.
“Are you picking up or are you just here for the classes?” She turns to see a man in his late thirties. Black hair with sliver streaks, weathered features and bright sky colored eyes.
“Barbara wasn’t wrong, you do look the same.” He rolls his eyes and moves past her.
“Adult classes are Tuesday and Thursday, sign up sheet-“
“I don’t need lessons,” she grabs his arm. “But I do need your help.”
Dick removed his arm and turns to her slowly, almost as if his gaze his scanning her from head to toe.
“So,” he leans in a lowers his voice, “Your the new Rookie.” He smirks which in turns makes Y/n scowl.
“I’ve been at this for three—“
“Try a few decades. Look I know about you you’re not the first detective and probably won’t be the last. But I’m done with capes, cowls and spandex I left that life and I left Gotham.”
He walks past the students with Y/n following him.
“Look I don’t know what your relationship with Bruce was like-“
He scoffs and sits at his desk, “Be thankful for that.”
She narrows her gaze at some photos. Some with other boys younger than him and some of him younger than that.
“I came here for help for Gotham, you know as well as I do that Bruce cared about his mission. I’m not asking you to help me for him, but for the people you care about that are still there. For the memories you still have there the good one and the bad ones.” Dick turns away from her.
“I’m sorry but you need to leave, I can’t help you.” He stands up and opens the door for her. She shakes her head and leaves.
“That was a waste of time, think the others will be much help?” She slides back into the car as it drives down the street.
“I can’t say for sure, but I’ve prepared the jet for you, Master Timothy is in New York and he’s attending a gala.” Y/n sighs in her seat.
For the love of God why are your sons so stubborn Bruce?
#batfamily!reader#dc comics#dc universe#batman#batfamily#batfam#dick grayson#gotham knights#jason todd#tim drake#batfam x batsis#batfamily x reader#barbara gordon#dcu#damian wayne#bruce wayne#dcau#batgirl#batfamily shenanigans#duke thomas#selina kyle
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Trouble with a Vulcan
Spock x female reader
Spock was sitting on his t'hy'la's couch waiting for her to return, the enterprise crew was on a two week shore leave and (name) had decided to make the most of it. She went back to her home town to enjoy the scenery, the town was a small rural community and little trouble came it's way. So when (name) said she was going out for a walk only moments before he thought nothing of it. He snooped around for something to do until she returned and came apon her dvd's of old earth movies and shows. Most he deemed illogical but one seemed to hold a value in his sharp mind. Jeopardy. The viewer gained knowledge from watching and knowledge to a vulcan was always exciting. He put in the first disc and sat back.
-----(name)'s pov-------
(name) Was smiling brilliantly the young woman bounced along the streets reacquainting herself with the town. She was walking down a alleyway when a large thuggish man stepped out of the shadows. She went to turn around but her path was cut off by another man.
"Well hello darling. What is a thing like you doing all by yourself?" (name) tried to go past the first man but she was knocked to the ground and her vision blurred before she blacked out
-----spock's pov------
Spock had sat through four episodes of jeopardy, he knew most of the answers and only two were unknown to the half vulcan. He was now starting to worry about (name) she had been gone two hours. The town was not that large, she should be back. He was just getting ready to search for her when the door slammed open, it closed just as quick and the deadbolt was turned into place with a heavy *thunk* followed by a second *thunk* signalling the locking of the other lock. Spock reached the door and saw (name) slumped on the ground. Her hair was matted with mud and blood. Her cloths wear torn and she had several bleeding scrapes and rapidly forming bruises. She was panting and shaking, spock made it over to her faster than he ever had before. He helped to to stand and held her at arm's length
" (name) what happened?" (name) whimpered and tried to snuggle into spock but he held her away from him so he could observe her,
"I went down a alleyway and some men......." (name) trailed off unable to answer, instead she looked up at Spock hoping to find anger in his gaze, anger towards her attackers at least . She knew of the precision driven power in her boyfriend's body and she would love to see him vulcan nerve pinch the two men. However when she gazed at him, he showed nothing not a flicker of concern,anger or even pity...nothing. Since they had started dating Spock had been more lenient with his emotions around (name),he was still as logical as ever but he let her see the human side he so often tried to hide from others. The fact he showed no emotions scared her.
"So you feel nothing after hearing that your girlfriend was attacked? Not a sliver of anger? NOTHING?" The woman was horrified by the fact Spock was still unresponsive. She removed her arms from his still frozen grasp,unlocked the door and fled going to the one place she felt she would be safe, her best friend scotty's house. She flung open the door and fell sobbing into the engineers arms as she explained what happen. Scotty's face did contort in anger and the Scotsman started swearing in his thick accent, that only got thicker as he got angrier .
Meanwhile Spock had finally managed to compute that someone who was not him had dared to touch what was his dared to harm what was clearly marked as his. He was logical and calculating and when it came to the bedroom he was just as thorough when giving (name) love bites around her neck as he was when saving the enterprise from one of kirk's hair brained schemes. The bites clearly stated she was his, his to touch and no one else's. Anger finally came though quickly followed by worry and then confusion as (name) was no where to be found. He quickly thought of the other members of the enterprise crew who she would go to. He searched each crew members house down to places where she would never get to and then he finally figured it out, Mr.Scott! (Name) and Mr,Scott wear close she would definitely go to him in a time of need.
Spock frantically banged on Mr.Scott's door and when he opened it the Scotsmen knew instantly what was up.
"Mr.spock, she asked me not to let you in but I can see you need to speak to each other." Mr, Scott moved aside and pointed at the closed bathroom door.
"Cleaning up" was his only explanation. Spock needed no more promoting and. Instantly he was by the door.
"T'hy'la? You you there? I must speak with you about my actions." He heard a muffled Russian swear,curtesy of Chekov and Scotty drinking nights, followed by a soft sigh, he held his breath hoping she would for once be logical about her actions and let him explain. She was. (name) opened the door carefully and dressed in only her undergarments and a oversized bathrobe. She sighed heavily and dragged him into the bathroom.
"T'hy'la I mu-" Spock was cut off by her placing her hand on his mouth before she lent forward and kissed him
"Spock it's okay, I was over emotional and I overreacted. I couldn't expect you to fully understand what I said in the four seconds I gave you. I am sorry I reacted very unlogically." Spock looked at (name) and enveloped her in a comforting hug
"You never react logically, it is one of the reasons I love you."he whispered as he gently drew his large hands up and down her back and sides in a comforting action. Eventually (name) started calming and she giggled happily at having her vulcan back in her arms and being back in his.
(name) leaned up and kissed Spock with all the passion and love she could muster, Spock quickly returned the kiss and his hands had started to roam over the woman's tiny body, suddenly a loud "ahem" broke the couple apart. (name) Flushed red and Spock's face was flushed as well Scotty stood in the doorway of the bathroom a smug grin on his face.
"Now I am glad ye are back togetha but could ye please do that at home?"
(name) Name smiled and leaned into Spock as he wrapped his arms around her protectively he leaned his head by her ear and whispered
"It would be illogical to continue this with someone watching but we will most certainly continue this later."
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of fractures and fabrications
part 2
pairing: bones x reader
summary: you are captain pike’s daughter and have become inseparable from the enterprise crew, especially jim kirk and leonard mccoy... so when your terrible ex makes a reappearance right when you’re discovering your deeper feelings for bones, only chaos and heartache could ensue
word count: 5380
warnings: swearing, drinking
notes: my first time posting a fic, hope y’all like it! this took me a full month longer to write than I anticipated, and I may be writing this whole fic from bones’ perspective as well...
You never get as much rest during shore leave as your crewmates. While they’re off, free to do whatever they wish with their time, you have to spend a few hours each day back on the docked Enterprise tending to the plant life in the ship’s greenhouses. Jim always insists that you, as a senior science officer, have the authority to pawn off the task to one of your subordinates, but you take pride in doing the work yourself. And lately... well... lately you’re glad for the time alone. For the time away from a certain doctor.
You met Jim and Bones at the Academy, when they were cadets and you were an instructor’s assistant while your ship was on leave. The three of you became thick as thieves in the blink of an eye. Even though your friend group has grown since then, the bond you three share is special. So, a couple months back, when you realized that your feelings for one of your best friends had deepened into something... else... you panicked.
The last time you opened yourself up to feelings was during your own time at the Academy, when you dated a man for four years only to find out he was using you for your connection to your father to get ahead in his career and was fucking your roommate behind your back the whole time. While you know that Bones would never do something like that, the experience has left you scared to be vulnerable again. And Bones is one of your best friends. You aren’t about to ruin your friendship by putting him in the awkward position of having to turn you down.
So you’ve taken to spending more time dedicating yourself to your duties. Here, among the plants, no one will know if you while away the hours daydreaming about the way Bones’ hands would feel cupping your face, how solid his chest would feel against yours, how soft his lips would be...
You snap out of today’s daydreams at the sound of the doors to the greenhouses whooshing open. You look up to see Uhura and Sulu stroll in, the latter looking especially triumphant.
“See? I told you she’d be here,” Sulu says.
You busy yourself with checking each plant’s water level, the task you were doing before your mind wandered. “Of course I’m here. Plants don’t stop living just because everyone else is on leave.”
“C’mon Pike, you can try to deceive the others but you can’t lie to us. We know why you’re really here,” Uhura says.
You mentally curse yourself, regretting a night not too long ago when you, Sulu, and Uhura had gotten drunk and the truth of your feelings for Bones came spilling out of you before you could stop yourself. Since then, they refused to leave you in peace.
“You know, he’s still one of your best friends,” Uhura continues. “He’ll be more suspicious the more you push him away.”
“I’m not pushing him away,” you say quickly, eyes snapping up from the Capellan flower you’re inspecting.
“So then you won’t object to coming out with everyone tonight?” Sulu asks. “Kirk found a new nightclub he thinks we’ll all love and he wants us all to go.”
You swallow.
“I bet if McCoy sees you in something hot it will force him to be much more obvious about the feelings he definitely has for you,” Uhura insists.
“Enough, guys.” You sigh. “I know you want to be helpful, but filling me with false hope isn’t going to work. How many times do I have to say that before you understand?”
Sulu and Uhura share a look, shoulders dropping in defeat.
“Fine,” Sulu says. “Then come out for the rest of us. We care about you and want us all to have some fun.”
You look between Sulu and Uhura, both their eyes wide with hope. You sigh, a smile on the edge of your lips.
“Okay. For you guys.”
Sulu and Uhura cheer.
“Now get out of my greenhouse,” you order, turning back to the plants. “I’ve still got work to do.”
“No you don’t.” Sulu slides up to you, taking the tricorder out of your hands. “I’ll finish up for you. You go with Uhura to get ready for tonight.”
Before you can protest, Uhura grabs you by the arm and drags you out of the greenhouses, off the ship, and across the station to your accommodations. Once you’re back in your assigned room, Uhura dives into your closet. All you can do is sit on the edge of your bed as articles of clothing fly all around you. At one point you have to duck so as not to be hit by one of your hangers. The hurricane of fabric comes to a halt as Uhura unearths a black, figure-hugging, high neck, sleeveless dress with a slit on the side that goes dangerously high.
“No,” you say instantly.
Uhura smiles wickedly. “Yes.”
“No, Nyota–” you start, but Uhura just tosses the dress at you, shoving the rejected garments back into your closet.
“You’ve got two hours to get ready. Meet me in the lobby and we’ll walk over to the club together. If you come down wearing anything but that dress, I am making you turn around and come right back up here to change,” Uhura orders, slipping out of your room before you can voice another protest.
You lay the dress out on your bed. You haven’t worn something like this in a long time, but your friend can be exceedingly stubborn so you decide to let her get her wish.
After a quick shower, you slip on the dress. You put on minimal makeup and decide to leave your hair down, a welcome change from the braided updo you usually do for work. A glance at the clock tells you it’s about time to meet Uhura, so you put on a pair of low heels that match your dress and head out the door.
You meet up with Uhura in the building lobby. She whistles when she sees you.
“That dress looked good on the hanger, but you do it true justice.”
You giggle. “Never stop flirting with me, Nyota. And you don’t look too bad yourself.”
“Oh, I know.” Uhura strikes a pose, showing off her midnight blue dress that seems to shimmer in the low light. She then links arms with you, leaning in. “I’m serious about how good this dress looks on you, but it would look even better on McCoy’s floor.”
You feel heat rise to your cheeks. “Nyota!”
“What? If he’s not gonna start making moves, I’ve gotta start making moves for him.”
You shake your head. “Not funny. Besides, that is the cheesiest pickup line you could’ve chosen.”
The nightclub isn’t too far from the hotel Starfleet procured for the crew’s shore leave accommodations. By the time you and Uhura arrive, the rest of your friends are already a few drinks deep.
“There you two are! I was about to send a search party!” Jim calls, waving you both over to the bar. Your stomach does a flip the moment you see Bones. The easy smile he shoots you as you approach used to bring you platonic comfort, but now it sets every one of your nerves on fire.
“Woah, darlin’. You look incredible,” Bones says as you and Uhura join the group.
Uhura shoots you a knowing smile. “I know, doesn’t she?”
You ignore Uhura, turning to Bones. “Thank you. Uhura picked it out.”
Jim cuts in, handing you and Uhura a shot. “C’mon!” he exclaims. “Let’s dance!”
You barely have enough time to down the drink and place the glass back on the bar before Jim is dragging you onto the dancefloor. For the next hour you choose to forget all your worries, drinking and dancing with Jim, Scotty, Uhura, Sulu, and Chekov. You eventually manage to escape back to the bar, joining Bones and Spock. Bones chuckles as you collapse onto a stool.
“Worn out already?” he teases, flagging down the bartender and motioning for a glass of water.
“It’s been a while since I broke out my dancing shoes,” you reply. “But Jim just doesn’t stop. Where does he get the stamina?”
“I do not know,” Spock says.
Bones wordlessly passes you the water. You take it, nerves tingling at the brush of your fingers against his. The alcohol in your system has made you less cautious, so you beam at him.
“Thank you,” you say, taking a sip of water. “You’re always taking care of me.”
You think you see him blush, but you’re sure it’s just the flashing lights playing tricks. Jim and Scotty bound over to the group, gasping for breath.
“You abandoning us already, Pike?” Jim asks, ordering himself another drink.
“Just need a break, is all. Doctor’s orders,” you reply, shooting Bones a begging look.
“That’s right, Jim,” Bones jumps in. “Can’t have one of our best pass out on the dancefloor.”
“Then I guess you’ll have to take her place,” Jim says matter-of-factly.
“Jim, I don’t–” Bones starts, but it’s too late. Jim grabs him by the arm and drags him onto the dancefloor. Within seconds they’re both swallowed up by the crowd.
“Ach, the poor doctor never stood a chance,” Scotty says, shaking his head before turning to you. “Another drink, lass?”
You nod, downing the rest of your water and following it with the shot Scotty hands you. You haven’t felt this warm, this loose in ages, so much so that when your ex-boyfriend and ex-roommate walk into the club it takes a moment for your brain to register it. The second your brain catches up with what your eyes are seeing, you tense up, blood running cold. You feel Spock stiffen beside you. You guess he saw them enter too. Besides Jim and Bones, Spock is the only person who knows about your ex. He was there, after all, studying at the Academy beside you during the whole love affair.
Scotty notices the sudden tension, following both your gazes to see your ex.
“Who’s that?” Scotty asks.
“No one,” you say quickly, turning your back to the door.
But it’s too late. You’re sure he spotted you and before long you hear a throat being cleared behind you. You turn around slowly to see your ex, your backstabbing roommate by his side.
“Long time, no see,” your ex says, his gaze sweeping over you. You say nothing, and neither does Spock, who is scowling at your ex. Scotty takes the scene in before addressing the newcomers.
“My name’s Montgomery Scott. My friends call me Scotty. You are?”
“Matthew Williams. This is my fiancée, Anja Antos.”
You feel like you’re going to throw up.
“It’s nice to meet you, Scotty,” Matthew continues.
“Hold on now, laddie. I said my friends call me Scotty. And it seems like my two friends here don’t care for either of you too much.”
“Oh, that’s just a little grudge they’re holding onto from our Academy days.” Matthew chuckles. “Nothing serious.”
“What are you doing here?” you ask, finding your voice again.
Matthew turns his gaze to you. “Our ship’s on shore leave, and we’re out to celebrate. Anja just passed her bridge officer’s test. She’ll be joining me up on the bridge, where all the action is. You’re still working with plants, right Pike? I’m sure that can be exciting too.”
Before you can defend yourself, Spock says, “Dr. Pike is third in command of the Enterprise.”
You see Matthew’s jaw clench. And if looks could kill, the one Anja shoots you certainly would incinerate you on the spot.
“I see we have much more to catch up on than we thought,” Anja says.
“Why don’t you join us?” Matthew asks. “We can grab some drinks and find an empty booth somewhere to continue chatting.”
You can’t think of anything you want to do less than spend more time with Matthew and Anja, but, as if possessed, you find yourself accepting Matthew’s offer. Before you know it, the three of you are situated in a booth, the couple on one side, you on the other.
“So, you’re engaged,” you say, breaking the silence.
Anja and Matthew smile at each other.
“I finally got him to propose,” Anja says, leaning into Matthew. “It’s nice, knowing you have a partner who’s fully committed to you. I’m sure you’ll find someone who can make you feel that way too.”
“You assume I’m single?”
“You’re not?”
You take a sip of your drink. “That’s really none of your business.”
“So,” Matthew cuts in. “Second officer of the Enterprise. When’d you get the promotion?”
You think about your response for a moment. You’re usually not one for showing off your achievements, but you remember how badly Matthew wanted to command his own ship and how much he hurt you when you wouldn’t help him the way he wanted. So fuck him.
“A few years back,” you say. “When my father was still in command of the Enterprise. Starfleet’s offered me my own ship a couple times since then, but I keep turning them down.”
You see anger flash in Matthew’s eyes. You definitely got to him. Before you can say anything else, Jim and Bones plop into the seats beside you.
“There you are. We were wondering where you’d disappeared to.” Jim grins at you, before turning to the other half of the table. “Nice to meet you. I’m Jim Kirk, he’s Leonard McCoy. You are?”
“Matthew Williams and Anja Antos,” Matthew replies. Anja’s eyes rake over Jim and Bones.
“Matthew and Anja,” Jim repeats, turning back to you. “That Matthew and Anja?”
You give a slight nod and instantly both Jim and Bones throw their arms across the back of your seat, scooching closer to you, as if they coordinated it beforehand.
“We’ve heard lots about you, Matthew,” Bones says, barely concealing his distaste. “About you both.”
“And how do you two know Pike?” Anja asks
“We’re her boyfriends,” Jim says.
You choke on your drink.
“I mean, we’re also coworkers,” Jim continues. “I’m the captain of the Enterprise, McCoy’s the CMO, and Pike’s one of my science officers. But I feel like the whole relationship thing supersedes all that.”
Time seems to slow as your mind calculates both outcomes to this situation. Either you correct Jim’s lie and are forced to endure Anja and Matthew’s gloating as they hold your perpetual singleness over your head. Or... Or you lean into the lie, transform your strong friendships into a three-way relationship, and in the process allow yourself to let your guard down, wear your feelings for Bones on your sleeve without fear of reproach.
So you lean into the lie, and against Bones’ chest. Your hand reaches out towards Jim, taking his hand in yours, fingers curling together. Bones drapes his arm around your shoulders, holding you close. You look over to see Matthew and Anja taking the scene in.
“You’re both her boyfriends?” Matthew asks incredulously.
“Yep,” Bones replies.
“So how’d you all end up together?” Anya asks challengingly.
“Oh, honey, why don’t you tell them?” Jim turns to you.
“Yeah, you tell the story best,” Bones adds.
You realize they’re letting you set the stage as a way to make up for blind-siding you. You decide to start with the truth.
“We all met at the Academy. Jim and Leonard were cadets and I was an instructor’s assistant. We became fast friends.”
“And... what? You fell into a relationship?” Matthew asks.
“No, no, not all at once,” you say, gaining confidence. “It started with me and Jim. He was a charmer, swept me off my feet. Nobody knows how to make me laugh like Jim does. And it was just the two of us for a while, until one day I woke up and realized I’d fallen in love with Leonard.”
The words you’ve been too scared to even think just spill out of you. You look at Bones to see him smiling at you and you have to remind yourself that none of this is real. That his happiness at your declaration is a fabrication.
“In hindsight, I should’ve seen it coming,” you continue, eyes still on Bones. “Loving Leonard is like breathing, always there but you’re never aware of it unless you concentrate hard enough.” You shoot Matthew and Anya a look. “I told Jim immediately because I’m not a cheater. To my surprise he said he was willing to share, providing Leonard felt the same.”
“And you two are happy with sharing?” Matthew asks.
“We’re happy with any bit of love we can get from her. She’s an incredible woman.” Jim grins.
“If it were up to us,” Bones says, “we’d be married already.”
Your stomach flips, mind racing with images of you and Bones as a married couple. Waking up next to him every morning, dropping by the medbay just because, him visiting you in the greenhouses because he misses you, sharing his last name...
You can feel his eyes on you, but you stop yourself from looking at him again, afraid that he’ll see beyond the performance, straight into your heart. Instead, you glance at Matthew and Anja. They are shooting each other knowing looks.
“Baby,” Anja says, addressing Matthew. “I need a new drink.”
“Of course,” Matthew replies, turning to the other half of the table. “If you’ll excuse us for a moment.”
As Matthew and Anja move towards the bar, Jim whispers, “I don’t think they fully bought it.”
“Of course they didn’t buy it,” you whisper back. “They were never gonna buy me having two partners. They still think no one would associate themselves with me of their own free will.”
“They’ll buy it if you kiss one of us.”
You widen your eyes at Jim. “If I what?”
You are suddenly acutely aware of the fact you’re still leaning against Bones.
“If you’re worried about our willingness, darlin’, don’t be,” Bones says. “Jim and I got you into this mess and we’re gonna get you out of it. The last thing we want is for those two assholes to think they’ve one-upped you.”
You look between Jim and Bones, both of them watching and waiting for you to act. Once again, your analytical mind processes the two possible scenarios. If you pick Jim, then maybe you can get out of this with a little less heartbreak. But if you pick Bones... well... this could be your only chance to know what it would be like to kiss him.
You tilt your face up and press your lips against Bones’. You focus on how soft his lips feel against yours, committing the sensation to memory. You let yourself pretend, for a moment, that this is a real kiss. That the gentle hand Bones places against your cheek and the parting of his lips to deepen the kiss are because he wants you too, not because he’s helping you get back at your shitty ex and his shitty fiancée.
The kiss ends from a need for oxygen more than anything else. You both take in air, breaths mingling in the space between you, but you don’t pull away and neither does Bones. Your heart is beating so fast, so loud you bet the whole club can hear it over the thumping music.
“Did they see?” you finally murmur.
“Yeah, they saw,” Jim confirms.
You pull away from Bones, heart and head still spinning.
“I, uh... I think I need some air,” you say.
Jim rises to let you out of the booth, retaking his seat once you’re standing. Before you slip away, you lean down and press a kiss against Jim’s cheek.
“What was that for?” he asks.
“I’ve allegedly got two boyfriends, don’t I?” you reply.
You hear Jim chuckle behind you as you make your way out of the club. Once outside, you close your eyes and take in deep breaths of the filtered space station air, emptying your mind of everything that just happened because if you think about it for too long you know you’ll start to spiral. Inevitably, though, your thoughts start to creep back in.
You curse the part of you that loses all semblance of reason when Matthew and Anja are around. If you had a better handle on your emotions, you wouldn’t end up in situations like these, the pair of them digging more knives into your already fractured being. And you wouldn’t have to rely on Jim and Bones to bail you out.
Oh god. Bones.
Your fingers brush against your lips. You were so flustered after the kiss you forgot to take in his expression, couldn’t remember if he’d been happy or disappointed. Then you remind yourself it doesn’t matter. It doesn’t matter that it was the most perfect kiss, soft and sweet just like all your daydreams. He had done it out of duty.
Maybe you should’ve kissed Jim instead.
“Pike?”
You jump, whirling around to see Chekov. His eyes widen.
“I am sorry! I did not mean to startle you. You looked upset as you were leaving and so I thought I would check if you are okay.”
You relax, smiling at him. “I will be. Thank you, Chekov. I just... got a little overwhelmed.”
Chekov nods, gesturing back at the club. “Are you going to come back in?”
You glance at the door to the club, feeling nauseous at the mere thought of facing Matthew and Anja again, or having to look Bones in the face with the ghost of his kiss still on your lips.
“Actually,” you say, “I think I’m going to head back. Will you tell the others I’ve gone?”
Chekov nods. “Do you want company on your walk back?”
“No, thank you. I’ll be alright.”
You watch as Chekov heads back into the club, then start walking towards your accommodations. However, your mind begins to wander and before you know it you’re back on the Enterprise, heading towards the greenhouses. You decide to keep going, figuring you can get a head start on tomorrow’s work while simultaneously distracting yourself from the feelings you don’t want to process right now.
You’re eleven plants in when you hear movement down the hall. You freeze. All crew members have the same access to the ship on shore leave as they do when on duty, but no one has a reason to be on the ship at this hour. There are no phasers in the greenhouses, so you grab a pair of shears and make your way out of the botanical labs, creeping down the hallway towards the sound.
You find yourself outside the medbay, sounds of activity coming from inside. You step forward, the doors whooshing open. Inside you find a man, right hand and face littered with cuts, many still oozing blood. Bruises also cover his hand and face, but the largest one is blooming under his left eye. The man is covered in so many wounds it takes you a full three seconds to recognize one of your best friends.
“Jesus Christ, Len!” you exclaim, rushing into the medbay, dropping the shears onto the closest surface.
“Easy, darlin’,” Bones says. “It’s not as bad as it looks.”
“Not as bad as it looks!” You raise a hand and grab a hold of his face by the chin, turning his head this way and that to assess all the cuts and bruises. You then turn your attention to his bloody, bruised hand, noting how he’s not moving his fingers. That’s a bad sign.
“You wouldn’t’ve even seen me like this if I hadn’t run out of my damn first aid supplies earlier today. Keenser’s still oozing that highly acidic green goo and a coupla lieutenants got caught in the crossfire.” Bones huffs a laugh, before cocking his head towards your shears. “What were you gonna do if it wasn’t me? Snip the intruder to death?”
“Ha ha, very funny.” You eye him for a moment. “Okay, go get on that bed over there.”
“What?”
“I’m playing doctor tonight. I’ll collect the supplies and meet you over there.”
“Darlin’, I can patch myself up just fine.”
“Just because you can, doesn’t mean you have to. Now go on. Get,” you say, waving him towards the bed.
Bones gives a slight smile before heading towards the bed. You turn back to the supply cabinet, grabbing a metal tray and loading it with healing salve, bandages, rubbing alcohol, cotton squares, and a tricorder. You pause, giving yourself a moment to bottle up all the feelings you’d been ignoring. Bones needs you as a friend right now. You’re not gonna let your love for him get in the way of that.
You find Bones sitting on the edge of the bed, feet dangling over the side. You plop the tray down on the bed beside him.
“The other guy better look worse,” you say, falling into the usual banter you share as you grab the rubbing alcohol, dump a bit on a cotton square, and start to clean the wounds on his hand.
“Trust me, he does,” Bones says, grimacing as you move his hand.
You frown at his reaction, putting the cotton square down and grabbing the tricorder. “Oh yeah? Must’ve done something real bad if he made you do something like this. This isn’t really your style. Jim, on the other hand...” You finish scanning his hand, frown deepening at the readings. Before Bones can say anything, you say, “You’ve got a hairline fracture at your wrist. You’ll need a brace for that, right?”
Bones nods. “We’ve got some over in that cabinet.”
You walk over to the cabinet Bones identified, grabbing the appropriate brace then walking back to Bones.
“I’m gonna add some salve to your hand before I put on the brace to help with the cuts. I’ll try my best not to hurt you.”
Bones nods again. You apply the healing salve as quickly and carefully as possible. Bones gives the occasional wince and you find yourself absentmindedly rubbing your thumb along the side of his hand in comfort. When you catch yourself doing it, you stop abruptly, now acutely aware of the weight of his hand in yours. Before you can stop yourself, your mind wanders to a daydream, one where Bones’ hands are splayed across your back, holding you close to his chest, his lips on yours...
You come back to reality, mentally berating yourself as you grab some bandages to wrap Bones’ hand, hoping he didn’t notice your mind wander. If he did, he doesn’t say anything, watching you as you finish wrapping his hand and slip the brace on. Bones adjusts the straps on the brace to his satisfaction as you grab a fresh cotton square, add rubbing alcohol, and move to the cuts on his face. For easier access, you slot yourself between his legs and try to ignore the sudden fluttering in your stomach at the proximity.
“What were you thinking, Len? You’re a surgeon. You kinda need your hands to do your job.” You start to clean the wounds on his face.
“My hand will heal. Besides, if I hadn’t, Jim would’ve. Hell, Spock would’ve.” Bones winces as you pass the cotton square over the largest of the cuts.
“Spock? Our Spock?” you ask incredulously, dumping the squares on the tray and reaching for the healing salve. You apply small dabs of the salve on his facial wounds.
“Sulu and Scotty nearly had to hold him back,” Bones says.
“Jesus. Who was this guy and what did he do?”
“It was Matthew.”
You freeze, focusing your gaze to meet Bones’.
“What did... what did he say?” you ask quietly.
Bones keeps his eyes on you. “He was talkin’ shit, insulting you. Started by sayin’ you only got into the Academy because of your dad. It only escalated from there. The middle part’s a bit fuzzy, but I remember he said something about how the only reason you’re still on the Enterprise is because you’re fucking the captain and the CMO. Which is just...” Bones clenches his jaw in anger. “Maybe sleeping with Jim would come with perks, but me? You outrank me. Sleeping with me wouldn’t... Anyway, I wasn't gonna let his comments slide, and neither was Jim. Our made-up three-way relationship aside, you are one of the only people in all of Starfleet that’s worth a damn. You run circles around both of those assholes. We tried to tell them to fuck off, but they wouldn’t listen. Chekov was holding Jim back, Sulu and Scotty were blocking Spock, and I guess Uhura thought I’d be rational enough not to get violent. She thought wrong. It was all over before it really started, lots of broken glass and spilled drinks, but I got a few good punches in.”
You lean up and press a kiss against Bones’ cheek, stunning him into silence.
“Wha... What was that for?” he finally asks.
“For defending my honor,” you say. “Thank you, Len.”
“Here I was thinkin’ you’d be upset.”
“Matthew’s an asshole. Anja too. They could get blown up on a starship for all I care.”
Bones chuckles as you finish lathering his injuries in the healing salve. You wipe your hand of excess salve and then grab the bandages. Bones lets you continue to work in silence, watching you as you place butterfly bandages on the largest of his facial wounds.
“Okay,” you say. “All done.”
“Got me all patched up, Doc?” Bones teases.
“As best I could.” You gather all the used supplies and place them on the metal tray. “You’ll need to ice that black eye and change the bandages every once in a while, but you already knew that. And I’m guessing you know how long you need to wear that brace for, or will at least have M’Benga look you over as soon as possible.”
Bones nods. “Thank you, darlin’. You didn’t have to do all this, you know.”
“You don’t have to thank me, Len. I care about you. This is the least I would do for someone I care about.”
Bones says nothing for a moment, then, “I love when you call me Len.”
You blink. Before you can stop yourself, you say, “I love when you call me darlin’.”
You both stare at each other. You open your mouth to say something, anything to break the silence, but Bones beats you to it.
“I wanted to say sorry.”
You furrow your brow. Of everything he could’ve possibly said in that moment, the last thing you expected of him was an apology.
“What for?” you ask.
“For everything back at the club. Jim and I should’ve told you what we had planned beforehand. And I’m especially sorry you had to kiss me.”
“I didn’t have to kiss you, Len. I chose to.”
“Still, you wouldn’t’ve if we hadn’t put you in an awkward position.”
“That’s not true,” you blurt out, immediately cursing yourself.
Bones blinks at you, eyes flicking to your lips. Neither of you moves, simultaneously too afraid to stick to the status quo or break it.
Fuck it.
You kiss him, softly at first, but when he sighs against your lips and wraps his arms around your waist you press yourself against him, parting your lips to deepen the kiss. You cup his face in your hands, mindful of his injuries.
“I love you,” he murmurs against your lips.
You pull back. “You love me?”
Bones gives you a soft smile. “C’mon, darlin’, you must’ve known.”
You shake your head. “Uhura and Sulu tried to tell me, but I thought they were just teasing me.”
“Why would that tease you?”
“Because I love you.” You run your thumbs across his cheeks. “God, Len, I am so in love with you.”
Bones pulls you into another kiss. You giggle against his lips.
“What?” Bones asks.
“Uhura and Sulu are going to be insufferable for a while,” you say.
Bones grins. “You think they’re going to be insufferable? Wait until Jim finds out.”
You both laugh. Then you kiss him again. And again. And again.
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christmas tree farm [ficmas day 6] [james t. kirk x f!reader]
↳ masterlist ↳ ship exchange ↳ taglist ↳ ficmas 2024
author's note: dedicated to my irl former roommate/current bestie @muffinbeliever who has a kirk shrine. also i wrote this sleep deprived and jetlagged, i wont apologize for its shittiness
playlist:
christmas tree farm -- taylor swift
intergalactic -- beastie boys
last christmas -- lucy dacus
“I didn’t know Iowa had Christmas tree farms,” you said, spooning more food into your mouth. The holidays were around the corner, and people’s conversations about their plans punctuated lunch on the Enterprise. Your Captain was currently regaling stories of Christmas in the Midwest.
“We have amazing Christmas trees,” Jim replied.
Bones coughed.
“Something wrong, Bones?” Jim sighed, turning to look at his friend.
“I think you’re full of shit,” Bones nodded, earning a frown from Jim. You finished the rest of your food, standing up with your tray.
“I’m going to go before you two start attacking each other,” you grimaced.
“That only happened once!” Jim called out as you walked away, shaking your head.
Business on the Enterprise had slowed down in preparation for the number of away trips. Work in the medbay was almost entirely administrative, which was boring but at least left you stress-free. Your work was interrupted by your friend, Leah.
“Heard you had lunch with the Captain and McCoy,” she cooed. “Do tell me how you swung that?”
“My feminine wiles,” you deadpanned, not looking away from your screen. She spun your chair around to face her.
“Give me the details! Is Jim bringing home anyone this holiday?”
“He never brings anyone, you know that,” you drawled, crossing your legs. Leah glowered.
“He brings people.”
“Not home. Not to Iowa,” you responded. Every woman (and man) alive on the Enterprise had a crush on Captain Kirk, so you weren’t surprised by this line of questioning. More mildly perturbed. You were one of the few to be able to say that you have actually talked to Kirk. Saying you were friends felt weird, but you weren’t just another face on his starship. You doubt he’d remember your face if you weren’t McCoy’s second.
Leah continued asking you questions about Kirk until it became evident you had no answers.
You were used to it. Many of the crew asked questions.
There was a time when you were enamored with James T. Kirk, but it only lasted a minute. You were fresh on the crew with your college roommate, starry-eyed and excited to be assigned to the Enterprise. Kirk was greeting everyone and spending ample time with the ladies until his eyes passed right over to flirt with your college roommate. You got a handshake that was equivalent to a brush-off.
You don’t even think Jim remembers that day because weeks later, you’re patching him up and striking up a conversation. The first impression is already there, though, along with the misplaced attraction. Now, you’re in a tumultuous friendship with a man everyone else wants to sleep with. You didn’t expect so much drama when joining the Enterprise.
Work shouldn’t have taken as long as it did, but having backlogs upon backlogs of medical reports meant you were the last one in Medbay. You had turned on some music while you worked and were debating to see if Scotty was up and wanted to share a drink with you. He always had the best alcohol and got fed up with drama as much as you did. Most of the lights were off; you didn’t see the need for them at this point. You could hear the doors open as someone entered.
“So, this is how you’re spending your evenings,” Jim remarks, pulling up a chair next to you.
You turn to look at him.
“I’m doing work.”
“Bones should do it.”
“Doctor McCoy is terrible with paperwork. He’d screw it up almost immediately,” you replied, giving a quick smile and returning to your document. Jim fiddled his thumbs. You looked up again.
“Captain, can I help you with something?”
“Whatcha doing this Christmas, lieutenant?” he inquired, spinning around. His restless energy was making you anxious.
“Probably just going to find a hotel and drink; why?”
“Come with me to Iowa.”
Your brain shortcircuited at his request. Jim Kirk, notorious for inviting women to various away trips for quick hookups, never asked anyone to his home. The only people that have been were Spock and Leonard, but they were his best friends. You didn’t think you were his best friend.
“Why?” you questioned, voice small.
“Because I want to. I can’t invite my friends to spend Christmas together?” Kirk chuckled at that but then caught on to the seriousness of your expression. “We are friends, right?”
“Yes,” you responded, but not very confidently. He narrowed his eyes.
“I don’t play strip poker with just anyone.”
“You and Leonard played strip poker. I played normal poker and watched you two drunk bafoons make a fool of yourself.” Your lips quirked up at that memory. Spock came in at some point to request Jim’s assistance, only to find him half-naked and stuck in his uniform on the ground. You neglected to help him in favor of watching him struggle. Spock left immediately, muttering to himself.
“C’mon, it’ll be fun. I’ll show you an authentic Iowa Christmas tree farm,” Jim grabbed the arm of your chair, swiveling you towards him. Your knees touched, and you wanted to pull away.
“Fine, I’ll go with you to your fake ass Christmas farm,” you smiled, watching as a grin lit up Jim’s face.
It was hard to finish the rest of your work, as he kept annoying you throughout the night, but eventually, you pulled through. Jim walked you back to your room, and you bid him adieu before closing the door. You let yourself fall back against the door surface, sinking to the ground, wondering what you had gotten yourself into.
Iowa came sooner than you thought.
Leonard would join you both for Christmas dinner, as Kirk’s mom had been asking about him, and Leonard had nothing else to do. You had never been to Iowa, really any of rural America, and wandered off the starship to the sight of miles of fields. Jim was waiting by a motorcycle.
“I’m not taking that death trap with you,” you said earnestly. He handed you a helmet anyway.
“It’ll be fun.”
“Say that at my funeral, I dare you,” you grimaced. There was a small box for you to put your bags in, so you said goodbye to your belongings and boarded the bike. Your cheeks heated up as you realized that you’d have to be hugging Kirk the whole ride. All embarrassment left your body the second that he started driving, though, as instead, you opted to hide your face in his jacket and try not to cry. He laughed at your expense. You debated the merits of killing him but then realized you’d be stuck with Spock as your Captain.
You pull up to Kirk’s home, your stiff arms reluctantly leaving his side so you can disembark. You blinked in surprise.
“You didn’t mention that you live on a Christmas tree farm.”
“It was something my Mom picked up with her boyfriend,” Jim shrugged, taking his helmet off and ruffling his hair. “Pays the bills.”
“Did you work here?”
“I’m an excellent tree salesman, I’ll have you know,” Jim grins, and you decide not to test him on that.
You don’t know what you expected Jim Kirk’s childhood home to look like, but when you do see it, it fits. It’s chic with enough unique knick-knacks to add personality. The amount of childhood Kirk photos makes you giggle.
Winona Kirk is a force to be reckoned with, you soon discover. Her eyes are the same as Jim’s, and her embrace is strong. You needed to come up for oxygen after the fact. She treats you both to rosemary chicken with scalloped potatoes. You drink a heavy amount of wine while Jim searches for a beer. The night is fairly peaceful.
You grew up in a city where the skies were covered in pollution. Stars were not a commodity. Out in the middle of Iowa, you could catch all the stars. After dinner, you make it a point to sit out on the Kirk’s porch. You have a blanket wrapped around you to stave off the cold, the Christmas trees merely a backdrop to the night sky. Your breath comes out in puffs. Jim joins you a bit later.
“My Mom seems to like you,” he notes, offering you a beer that you take gladly.
“Your Mom is epic,” you smile, taking a sip. A question has been sitting on your tongue since you arrived. “Why did you bring me here?”
“I told you already.”
“No,” you say softly. “You didn’t.”
Jim laughs, but it’s empty. It’s the laugh you give when you’ve been caught red-handed. The sky makes his eyes look like one of the constellations.
“I’m not good with women,” he remarks, and your brows shoot up. You want to call bullshit. “Not in the way it matters.”
“How does it matter?” You whisper. You don’t want to imagine what he means. He looks out toward the tree farm.
“When people come to get a tree, they walk by a bunch of perfectly good ones.” Jim avoids eye contact with you. “Families will walk away from so many quality trees because it isn’t the right one. But when they see it, they know— it’s the tree for them. The only one they want in their home.” The silence stretches between you two.
“You think I don’t see you, but I do; I always have,” Jim finally looks at you, and you can’t help but melt. “That’s why I invited you.”
“I thought you were going to tell me I was the right tree for you,” you gulp, and Jim lets out a laugh. You smile because you see him, too, you always have.
“You’re a nice tree,” Jim chuckles.
“Thanks, I’ve been working hard on it.”
He moves closer to you, and you open up your blanket to let him in. You wrap around each other in a safe cocoon, the smell of pine and fresh air invading your senses. You fall asleep with your head on his shoulder and his arms wrapped around you, and you think you could stay like that forever.
#star trek#star trek aos#james t kirk x reader#james t kirk#jim kirk x reader#jim kirk#chris pine#star trek fics#my writing#ficmas 2024#ficmas
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Do you have first time sleeping togther/hooking up headcanons for TNG characters? I was about to be like 'I'd love in particular to hear about...' but then listed about half the TNG cast (of multiple genders, but feel free to stick to male characters if you want) because I am exceptionally thirsty lol. I do personally have a strong preference for top!M!reader, but go with what's in your heart
First Time With the TNG Boys! || Star Trek TNG x Top!M!Reader +18
(Worf, Data, Will, Picard, Geordi, Lore, Q)
Worf
Boy you'll have to WORK to top Worf. Even if you are bigger than him (somehow?? mans is 6'3" and jacked). He'd love the wrestle for domination and how you pin him down and kiss the back of his neck as you taunt him playfully.
He's into biting, fighting as foreplay, and brat taming/authority. Although, if he's bottoming, he likes following directions and being praised for being a good soldier.
Bite this mf as he's jerking off, praise him for looking so stunning, Tell him he's the best you've ever fucked by far and he'll blow the biggest load of your life.
Data
Would let you top if you asked him, honestly. He's never been with another man before and the logging of information would be rather useful.
Data would enjoy you praising him, asking for consent multiple times, and generally treating him gently and kindly. He's not the rough and tumble type, that would require a minimum 3 more days of research and an "uncomfortable" talk with Troi about BDSM and the psycho-sexual aspects of it.
CALL. THIS. MAN. BEAUTIFUL. He will not know what to do with himself as you fuck him slowly and praise him for being the most amazing man on the Enterprise.
William Riker
Would be a little hesitant to let you top, but would eventually say to hell with fear and let you hit.
Has a bit of a fear of "liking it too much", because even in the far future, internalized homophobia is still a thing. Especially for a "ladies' man" like Riker. He's not too comfortable with his sexuality just yet.
Tell him he's doing good, give him open communication and a place to state his worries, and he'll be screaming your name before you're halfway inside.
Picard
Now this man is hesitant taking it up the ass- not only because he's old an worried about being sore, but was around during the pre-crackdown of homophobia in the starship workplace, when subtle homophobia was commonplace. He's worried about what the other crew will think of him if they found out about your activities together.
Assurance goes a long way with Picard, also directing him with a massive amount of respect and understanding. (he'll never tell you this, but calling him "sir" really gets him going.)
Geordi
Honestly? the chillest of them all when you ask to top your first time together. like genuine "Yeah sure, that's fine". And it's obvious this isn't his first bottom rodeo.
Likes when you dirty talk to him tbh, it's a real engine-revver when you whisper in his ear that fucking him is all you've been thinking about for weeks.
Geordi especially likes hearing about your fantasies that involve him- tell him your wet dreams!! Please!!
Lore
This man is a total slut for being degraded/domineered. I mean seriously, look at that lil guy! He's a brat just begging to be tamed!
Push him around, show him who's boss, and roleplay about being a cop and a roguish, sassy criminal.
Despite his secret obsession with being used like a fucktoy, Lore also loves being worshipped and praised on a genuine level- and on a superficial one too, to set the record straight.
Q
Q is the most excited to bottom, offering his ass at a moment's notice the second you suggest topping for your first time together.
Granted, he has no idea what he's doing, so you'd have to guide him. He likes being teased and being squirmy, so watch out for that.
What really gets Q off is the illusion of being restrained. Cuffs, ropes, anything- even you pressing him into the mattress is enough to really get Q moaning about how a "big strong human" feels so good inside him.
#star trek x reader#tng x reader#star trek tng x reader#worf x reader#data x reader#lore x reader#geordi la forge x reader#picard x reader#q x reader#william riker x reader#will riker#captain picard#jean luc picard#worf#data soong#lore soong#lore star trek#q star trek#prettyboy pistol
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Helloo~ May I make a Christopher Pike x reader request? It's a month old scuttlebutt, that the captain is involved with you, based solely on misconstrued events (leaving the direction of his quarters early morn in a rumpled uniform, stopping by medbay for a 'shot') Everyone knows that everyone knows, from cadet to captain. Except you don't. And noone has bothered checking. And the captain finds it funny (and you 'apparently' don't mind either as you've not bothered to shoot it down) so any moments you two have in view of others, he gives you a conspirational wink with some flirty banter. You think (hope) he's really flirting and not just being friendly.
Is it a bit much for a request? If so lemme know. Or i can commission? Idk. The idea hit me and it made me giggle with all the ways it could go.
Thank you so much for the request, and for your patience... this took a while! I hope you like the direction I've gone with it <333
Common Knowledge
Pairing: Christopher Pike x F!Reader (no Y/N) Warnings/Notes: Reader wears the dress version of the standard SNW uniform. Food mentions, alcohol mention. WC: 5.8k
It all starts the morning after you spent gamma shift in a Jeffries tube. Well. Several Jeffries tubes, in fact, chasing down an issue with a relay that had blown and taken a bunch of circuitry out with it, including some life support systems.
You’re feeling good, though, as you step out into the corridor on a deck full of crew quarters. Yes, your red uniform dress is creased and you’re in dire need of a shower, but the relay and the burned-out circuitry are replaced, and all systems are back online.
You deserve a water shower, not a sonic one, you tell yourself as you head toward the turbolift, nodding to the occasional officer as you walk by them. You just need to make sure the ops console on the bridge is reading everything correctly, then your duty shift will be done.
“Commander, Lieutenant,” you greet Lieutenant Commander Chin-Riley and Lieutenant Ortegas as you enter the turbolift. Unlike you, they both look fresh and ready to face the day. Number One nods in greeting, but Ortegas looks you up and down quite blatantly, and you find you’re trying to smooth your skirt despite yourself.
“Long night?”
“I—” you start, but before you can reply—
“Computer, hold. Open the doors,” Commander Chin-Riley says, and as you turn, Captain Pike is walking into the lift. And somehow, even though you’ve been on the Enterprise for a while, you’re never not struck by his presence. His broad shoulders. How handsome he is.
“Good morning, Number One, Ortegas. Lieutenant.” He puts an odd weight on your title, even though of course he knows your name, and then your mind goes blank as he winks one of those blue eyes.
“C-captain,” you stutter, well aware of Ortegas trying to stifle a laugh next to you.
“Sleep well?” Una asks, something knowing in her voice, after the captain directs the turbolift to the bridge.
“I’ve had… more restful nights,” he says, and looks at you sideways, doubtless taking in your rumpled dress and less-than-fresh appearance. “Like the lieutenant here, I’d wager,” he adds, and you must have missed a memo somewhere because this ‘lift ride has gotten very weird, very fast.
You decide keeping quiet is your best bet — it’s a short ride, thank goodness.
But you can’t shake the feeling that there are eyes on you as you finish your work on the bridge.
It may have started in a Jeffries tube, but it continues in sickbay.
You appreciate knowing sickbay is there. Doctor M'Benga and Nurse Chapel are skilled at their jobs, and you’ve had cause to be grateful for them when accidents happen, from a pulled muscle during a workout to a painful plasma burn from faulty equipment.
That doesn’t mean you love getting your quarterly check-up and shots. But you decided early on in your career that you weren’t going to be one of those people doctors had to chase for their physicals. Every three months you turn up. You’re due for routine vaccinations against some common alien viruses that human immune systems need reminders about, and your contraceptive shot.
Not that you really need it, of course. You aren’t getting any. The closest you’ve been since you joined the Enterprise was Lieutenant Paulson, a senior engineer who sometimes commands gamma shift when you’re on that rotation. He asked you out to dinner on Starbase 1, and while you like him as a person, you had to decline. You’d known him for a while, and never felt any kind of spark. And there’s been no-one— there’s been almost no-one else on the ship that you’re interested in. But still, you get your shot.
Today your appointment is during your shift. You didn’t want to be interrupted; you’re working on a new scanning device to be used on a planet with an unusual combination of atmosphere and magnetic field, which affects the resolution of normal scanners. So when your reminder went off you kept hold of your PADD, and you carried on entering the design parameters as you walked.
“Woah there,” a voice cuts through the equations you’re focussing on, and you feel hands on your arms, steadying you as you stumble.
As it turns out, walking with a PADD is a mistake.
Especially when you walk straight into the captain in the corridor outside sickbay.
“Captain! I’m so sorry! I—I was— I’ll pay more attention.” You look up, flustered, into his blue eyes, suddenly keenly aware of the bulk of him, of the controlled strength in his hands. Happily, he seems amused rather than annoyed, that half smile playing about his lips.
“I do admire your... dedication, Lieutenant, but you’re right. Paying attention is a good idea.”
And as the doors to sickbay swish open, letting Chief Kyle and one of your fellow engineers out onto the corridor, you realise the captain hasn’t moved. You’re still in his space, and he’s still holding you.
“Captain, Lieutenant... are you joining us?” Nurse Chapel looks as though she’s suppressing a smile. “You’re, uh... both here for your quarterly shots, right?” she adds, as Pike finally steps back, and you walk with him into sickbay. You nod, mutely.
“Yes. Timed it perfectly this time, didn’t we Lieutenant?” he says, and he grins at you, knowing.
“Sure,” you find yourself saying, sitting down a little abruptly on the biobed Doctor M'Benga indicates. Is Pike… flirting with you? Or just being his usual warm self?
“This shouldn’t take too long. I’m sure you want to get back to your... duties.” M'Benga looks meaningfully at Pike, who shrugs, a picture of innocence.
“Can you blame us?”
You can’t help your smile.
But actually, now you really think about it, maybe you’re wrong. Maybe it started with the onions.
You have a shift free, moving from nights to days as you do on a semi-regular basis, since some edict came down from Starfleet that people shouldn’t just work nights for health reasons. It doesn’t entirely make sense to you; you’re on a ship, so it’s not like anyone has a real day or night, but being able to socialise with people who are always on alpha is a plus, and you suppose the same rules apply to planetary bases which do have day and night.
The captain has invited you to dinner. That isn’t special, even though you wish it were – he likes to get to know the whole crew in an informal setting, and it’s just your turn. And maybe you over-think it just a little, during the day, planning what to wear to make yourself look pretty but not like you’d tried too hard.
Either way, you are early. You only realise as you press the chime for the door, when it’s too late to back out.
But the captain’s smile is warm and welcoming. “Hi, come in, come in. You any good with a vegetable knife?”
You grin in return, relaxing. “Yes sir. It’s been a little while, but I can chop.”
“Chris. We’re not on the clock right now.”
“Yes, Chris.” You follow him into the kitchen area of his quarters, taking in the fire, the view of a green forest through the windows, all the details that mark the space as his.
“Excellent. That spatial anomaly today— well. I’m playing catch-up here.”
“Oh wow, you really are...” the vegetables are all laid out ready, and there are a lot. But then, you don’t know how many people will be here. “Set me to work. How do you want the carrots?”
Pike’s knives are sharp and well balanced, and it’s easy to chop carrots into even circles, and to dice potatoes into neat cubes. You chat, too, about the food he’s making, and the special unit he had the ship’s botanists set up to let him grow fresh herbs in space.
You’re pretty much on autopilot by the time you get to the onions. You know the technique: you slice them in half through the root, then make sure you don’t cut the root again as you cut from close to the root to the tip, then across into chunks.
“So, there’s something I’m curious about,” you say as you grab the next onion.
“Oh?” Pike pauses for a moment, hand poised over the control for the oven.
“The forest overlay you have for the windows. Is it somewhere special to you? It’s really lovely.” You blink a little as you chop. Perhaps you got a lash or something in your eye.
Pike presses the control on the oven, then turns to look at you. “No, actually it’s—” he frowns. “Wait, are you all right?”
You blink again. “Of course, why wouldn’t I be?” Your brow draws together, and you put your knife down, turning to him a little more.
“Because you’re crying.” He starts towards you.
“Oh, damn.” You can feel it now — that tell-tale sting in your eyes. You look down at your chopping. “The onions. But I was being careful.” You sigh, blink again, and feel a tear roll down your cheek.
“If there are a lot it doesn’t matter how careful you are. I’m sorry, I should have done them.” He reaches past you, and you’re terribly aware of him in your space. He pulls off a piece of kitchen towel.
“It’s not your fault—” the words die on your lips as he turns to face you, blue eyes filled with concern.
“I’ll just—I don’t want you to use your hands—” and he takes the towel and dabs your face, and you suck a little breath in at his closeness, wondering why it has to be in a circumstance like this, when the door chime goes. “Enter,” he says, distractedly, blotting away one more tear before stepping back. “There. No harm done. But you should wash up. Ah, Spock, perhaps you can take over the chopping.”
You look round to see that Spock, Sam Kirk, Ortegas and Uhura have all walked in, just in time to see you with red eyes from the onions. At least, you think as you wash the onion off your hands, your makeup is waterproof.
Regardless of how things did or did not start, you’re pretty sure the captain only thinks of you as a friend. That this flirting is just a joke between the two of you... even if you wish it were real. Either way, you decide you might as well enjoy it.
You get back to the transport point from your solo hike on Chi Orianis Prime – it’s beautiful, with fluffy peachy-pink grass that’s soft underfoot and smells very slightly citrus-y when you tread on it, interspersed with lavender coloured bushes, with views of blue lakes and red mountains in the distance – right as Pike gets back from his fishing trip. Given how he’s carrying his cooler, it must have been a successful one.
You’re just about to ask him about it when Chapel and Ortegas arrive, with Uhura and La’an in tow, laughing together. They’re wearing t-shirts and shorts and sandals, carrying towels — clearly back from the beach, La’an actually looking like she might have caught the sun a little.
You take a step closer to him.
“Enjoy your trip?” The smile on Erica’s face is just a little too innocent.
“Yes, thank you. Wouldn’t have been the same without the lieutenant here, though.” Pike catches your eye, and you smile back at him, sappy, playing along.
“The captain’s right. We had a good time.”
None of your close friends wanted to go to movie night with you tonight. They’re showing a classic 20th century Earth film, Casablanca, and none of them were interested in seeing something that old. But it seems pretty popular with the rest of the crew when you get there. You pick up some popcorn first, wondering once again whose idea it was to put a Starfleet delta on the containers, and you head to find a seat.
Maybe it was a good thing your friends didn’t come. There aren’t too many spaces left when you go to sit down, but there are a few seats a couple of rows in front of where Spock and Nurse Chapel are sitting together. You settle in, allowing yourself three pieces of popcorn before the lights go down.
And right before they do, Pike slides into the free seat next to you.
“I thought you were going to stand me up,” you tell him, tilting your popcorn container over.
“A gentleman would never,” he replies, and you can hear the smile in his voice as he takes a piece.
The back of the shuttle is open to the bay, and Cadets Novakova and Manuel, on engineering rotation, are standing inside it with you, PADDs in hand. You’ve popped a panel off the inside of the shuttle, and you indicate a junction point.
“So, okay. You want to interplex the circuitry here. What will be the result of that? What are you hoping to achieve?”
“Well, the increased signal strength will improve thruster response time and efficiency.” Manuel says, shrugging his broad shoulders like it’s obvious.
“Yes, and we need better responsiveness for the planet. The atmospheric differentials are almost out of spec.” Novakova nods. “This is the easiest way to achieve that.”
“All right. And looking at the systems in front of you, will there be any other consequences?”
“No, there shouldn’t, it should just—” there’s a pause, then Novakova steps back, playing with a twist of her blonde hair as she considers. “Wait. That pathway, it connects to the impulse engine as well, doesn’t it?”
“Yes, it does, and the boosted signal would go through there too…” Manuel’s fingers fly over his PADD.
They look at each other as the penny drops, and you notice Pike in the bay, listening in. You tilt your head and raise a brow in a silent invitation, but he shakes his head a little, content to observe.
“So if we interplex the circuitry there, we will get an increase in thruster efficiency, but at the expense of introducing instability into the impulse control matrix.” Manuel sighs.
“You’re flying along, minding your business and then boom. Impulse reactor overload.” Novakova winces. “I didn’t see that.”
You nod. “You didn’t. Because neither of you really looked. For what it’s worth, it would probably have worked on the shuttles at the academy. But these are a different model. You have to work with what’s actually in front of you. That’s half the battle.”
“Wise words, Lieutenant.” Pike leans into the back of the shuttle, and you can’t help your smile at the praise as the cadets turn to acknowledge him. “The two of you should take them to heart.”
You're sitting on a bench in the bar, sipping a favourite drink, listening to Ensign Thyra play an Earth guitar but sing a wistful sounding song in her native Andorian, when Lieutenant Ortegas sits down next to you. And then Nurse Chapel sits on your other side.
“So, you and the captain. How’s that going?” Christine’s opening is straight to the point.
You give her a sceptical look. “It... isn’t? Hi to you too, by the way.” You turn to Erica. “To both of you.”
“Oh, come on. You guys are not subtle.” Erica rolls her eyes. “It’s been scuttlebutt for weeks. Me, Number One,” she starts counting off on her fingers, “Christine, Mbenga, Uhura...”
“Sam Kirk,” Christine adds.
“Yes, Sam Kirk, Spock, La’an...”
“We’ve all seen it. I even heard the cadets talking about it. Everyone knows.”
You shake your head, putting your drink down on the table in front of you. “We’re not... I don’t—” you look from one to the other. “There’s nothing between the captain and me.” You take a breath. “He flirts, sometimes I flirt back, but it’s just a joke.”
“Doesn’t look like a joke to me.” Christine says, her voice soft, almost sympathetic.
Erica shrugs. “It’s okay. You don’t have to admit it, if you guys are keeping things to yourselves... We just wanted you to know that we’re happy for you. Pike should have someone on the ship. And you. You should have someone too.” Her smile as she stands to leave is genuine.
“I—I’m not hiding anything. But thanks, I guess? I appreciate the sentiment.”
Arriving early when the captain invites you to a crew dinner is your habit now. You enjoy helping with prep when you can, and having a quiet moment to chat with Chris.
But this time you use the computer to check that others have arrived before you get there. You try to relax; these are your friends, Chris is your friend, but with what Erica and Christine said… you feel self-conscious. Second guessing everything you do and say.
You leave as soon as you can without being rude.
You feel a bit self-conscious with work, too, although you try to bury it. Especially with Pike piloting the shuttle for this mission. You’re sitting in your tactical uniform in the back of shuttle Kepler with Spock, Sam Kirk, La’an, and a couple more science officers. You would expect Kirk especially to pass some comment, but even he is quiet, because Zeta Lyrae VI’s wind shear is every bit as bad as science predicted.
A long-range scanning probe identified it as a possible source of dilithium as well as some other useful minerals — visual scan only, though, because the strange magnetic field prevented scanning of the interior. But that’s where the scanner you developed comes in. The visual scan also tagged some potential ruins which Kirk will investigate, and there’s general surveying to do too.
You grit your teeth against the turbulence. You trust that the captain’s piloting skills and the modifications you and the cadets made to the shuttle will see you safely to the ground, but you still feel motion sick. You know, though, there are pattern enhancers in the cargo. Perhaps you’ll be able to beam back up.
The turbulence lessens as you get deeper into the atmosphere, but you’re still very glad when the shuttle touches down. There’s a metallic tang to the air as the shuttle door opens, but it’s cool and refreshing despite that, and you take a deep breath, settling your rolling stomach, before you get to work.
The dawn sky of Zeta Lyrae IV is muted shades of pale blue and grey, warming a little to mauve-pink at the horizon, where the two suns have just risen. Barren-looking plains stretch out in front of you, with a river lazily meandering across, and there are hills leading to mountains not far away to your right. It’s hard to make out, but the lines of dark stones partially embedded in the ground to your left could well be the remains of a wall, and there are other, more defined structures further away in that direction.
“Lieutenant, you have everything you need?”
“Yes sir.” You lift your last case again, the heavy one, and try to keep your face blank at the weight of it. You know you’ll be feeling it tomorrow, but its contents were too large for your backpack. “I’ve identified a site two kilometres away that’s suitable for the scanner base. Enhanced scanning should be online within an hour.”
Pike nods. “Kirk, La’an, you have the ruins. Spock, the science survey is yours.” He turns to you. “Let me help with that.”
“I’m fine, honestly,” you protest as Pike takes the case from you, fingers brushing yours for one tiny electric moment.
“We’ll make quicker time if we share the load. Which I’m sure Spock will appreciate.”
“Aye, sir.”
You notice that there’s no flirtatious comment today.
This planet feels a bit like a dream, with its dead quiet, muted colours, pearly grey sky and the two suns gently highlighting the landscape. The only evidence you can see of the turbulent atmosphere are the occasional blue-green clouds scudding quickly across the sky.
You pick your way through the pathless terrain, looking for any signs of life. While there are scraps of ragged looking vegetation here and there, a lot of it seems dead, and the planet as a whole seems mostly barren.
You don’t make conversation; there’s something about the planet’s quiet and your confused emotions that steals your ability to make small talk, and Pike is quiet too. There’s just the sound of two pairs of boots crunching on the ground.
Until you almost step on a flower: a seven petaled bloom in the shape of a star, pale blue in the middle deepening to grey-purple just at the tips. You pause to get a better look, to see if there are any others like it nearby, but it seems solitary.
“Are you all right, Lieutenant?”
You look up to see Pike has stopped too, mild concern on his face.
“Yes sir, I’m fine.” You straighten up. “I just... this flower is the only one I’ve seen, and I wonder... is it the last gasp of the life that used to live on this planet, or is it a glimpse of hope for the future?”
Pike glances at the flower, but his focus is on you when he speaks. “We’ll likely never know, but I... I choose hope.”
The site you chose from the visual scan is obvious when you get there. You’re at the edge of the hills, and there’s a grey cliff curving round one edge of a flat open area. Geophysics had identified it as a potential location for dilithium, and as you get close you can see veins of the pink crystal running through the rock.
Now you just need to find out how much there is.
With Pike helping it doesn’t take too long to set the scanner up. You start with the base in the case he was carrying, and together you fold it out into a large circle, locking struts and its three legs in place.
You attach the probe that will drill into the soil, the antennas to communicate with the smaller unit near the shuttle and with the Enterprise, and to facilitate scanning in the atmosphere. Finally, you attach the computer from your backpack which is the brains of the system — you can’t help your private smile of satisfaction as it comes online. The shuttle is far enough away that its systems don’t affect the sensitive scans, and when the probe deploys and calibration data flows straight through immediately.
You talk to Commander Pelia and Lieutenant Spock on comms, making adjustments on the fly to the different parameters, optimising the uplink from the scanner and away team’s tricorders to the Enterprise.
Pike checks in with La’an at some point, but next time you look up you see he’s a little way away, tricorder out, following a standard scanning pattern working outward from where you are. You’re a little surprised he didn’t tell you that’s what he was going to do. Then the scanner beeps as the drill returns a result outside expected tolerances, pulling your focus.
It’s easier to get lost in your work than think about him, and for a long while, you do.
“Lieutenant, do you see that?” There’s a note of concern in Pike’s voice, and you follow his gaze to the horizon to your right.
It almost looks like a distant rain shower would on Earth, but there are green lights sparking all through it. Like lightning but less directional. You take a breath, and realise the metallic smell has intensified, to the point you can almost taste it.
“Yes, sir, I do.” You turn and meet Pike’s eyes.
“Plasma storm?”
“Plasma storm.” You redirect your scanner’s gain to maximum in that direction, sacrificing resolution elsewhere.
Pike’s tone is rueful. “Should’ve known when I scanned a burned patch of vegetation. It must have developed quickly.”
“Looks like it’s moving fast, too.”
“I’ll contact the rest of the away team, have them meet us at the shuttle. You start packing.”
“Sir,” you reply, distracted, already deep in the scanner readouts. You vaguely hear Pike calling Spock, then La’an, but you’re focused on one last scan.
“Lieutenant? I gave you an order.”
“Yes sir, you did, but look.” You point to the readout of the storm’s speed on the screen. “Scans show that even if we leave right now, we can’t make it back to the shuttle before the storm hits. We don’t even have time for them to pick us up.”
Pike frowns. “Options?”
“The cliff. There’s a cave system behind it. I don’t think there’s an entrance close enough, but...”
“Phasers? All this dilithium makes it risky.”
“Plasma burns are no fun, sir. I would know.”
He raises a brow. “Sounds like a story for later. All right. Let’s do this.”
You grab your phaser from your holster and dial the power up.
“Fire.”
You focus your beam on the weakest spot, and Pike fires at it too. And... nothing happens, for long enough for a shade of doubt to creep in. Then there’s a sound, a pile of rubble, and a gap. Just large enough for a person.
The cave is dark. It’s big, too, enough that the torches on your vests can’t illuminate the other side from where you are.
The storm is still raging outside, but the sound of it is quiet in here; the narrow space you opened the gap into curved round for a few metres before opening out into the space you’re in.
Now all you can do is sit and wait.
And you’re so aware of Pike, sitting with you.
He’s quiet, and now you come to think of it he has been all day. Definitely no flirting. You try to steal a glance at him, see what he’s thinking, but it’s too dark, and you don’t want to turn to face him.
You cast around for a distraction, and find a piece of dilithium embedded in the rock floor of the cavern next to you. The surface is flat and glassy-smooth, but with a few imperfections, and you like the feel of it under your fingers. In your head you go over the dilithium crystal eigenstates you memorised at the academy in one of your classes in warp field mechanics, and calculate the power output you would need for your phaser to trigger different levels.
“Sir, I’d like to try something, to give us some more light. It’s safe.”
“Sure. Go ahead.”
You adjust your phaser to its second lowest setting, scoot across a little and fire on the dilithium, counting seconds in your head. It starts glowing red immediately, but as you shut the beam off the glow spreads, along one vein, then another, then another, until the whole cavern is lit up like its own galaxy, surrounding you on the floor, the walls, the ceiling.
“Wow, that’s—that’s good work. Thank you.”
There’s something in his expression as he looks at you, the wonder in his eyes melting into a smile, that makes you brave.
“So… I had an—an interesting chat with Chapel and Ortegas the other day.”
“Oh?”
“Apparently the scuttlebutt is that we’re dating... we’ve been dating for a while. They wouldn’t believe me when I told them it wasn’t true.” You stare out across the cavern at all the glimmering lights.
“Oh.” He exhales. “Hah, yeah… I’m, uh, sorry about that? Things… got away from me.” You hear him stir, move into a different position.
You frown. “I don’t understand. What are you sorry for?”
“I’ve always been interested in you. And you’re not the sort of person that’s cowed by rank – Paulson is your superior, in your chain of command, but I was in the bar when he asked you to dinner, and you were so sure of yourself when you rejected him. So that day in the turbolift, Una and Erica jumping to conclusions... Your face was a picture, and I had to take Una’s bait. But by the time she told me there was already a rumour, you were joining in, and I—”
His voice goes quiet, like a confession.
“I couldn’t stop. And that wasn’t fair to you… making you an object of gossip like that.”
“Chris, I—” but now it comes to it, you can’t find the words. How do you tell him that you wouldn’t mind, not at all, if only the gossip were real? “But you did stop. We’ve barely spoken today. Until now.”
“I can read the room. You weren’t up for it the other night. Or today. And… I would never force my attentions where they clearly aren’t wanted.”
“But... they are, Chris. They are wanted.”
The cavern is dead quiet, and you almost wonder if you actually spoke aloud. But the look in Pike’s eyes when you finally turn to meet them—
“Lieutenant Spock to Captain Pike. Come in, please.”
Pike shrugs a little, face apologetic, as he flips open his communicator.
The ride back to the Enterprise is as quiet, and bumpy, as the ride to the planet. Spock and the rest of the away team had sheltered in the shuttle with shields up while the storm passed over them, and when the Enterprise’s scanners had shown that another one was forming, they came to pick you up.
All the equipment you left outside was destroyed.
But you think, as you climb in the shuttle, you catch a glimpse of one of those star-shaped flowers, still intact. Still blooming.
And Pike makes a point to catch your eye as you leave the shuttle bay. It’s subtle, but you recognise the invitation.
You think you can smell food as you press Pike’s door chime, and the scent only gets more appetising as you walk in. The lights are low, apart from the fire burning brightly, and Pike pauses, apron on over his gold uniform, to smile at you as you walk over to the kitchen area.
“You came.”
“Of course.”
He picks a small bottle up, and pours from it into a salad bowl in front of him. “I hope you’re hungry… I may have gone a little overboard on the mac and cheese. I thought we could use a little comfort food after that planet.”
“It smells amazing. Anything I can do to help?”
“It’s almost ready. You could pour the wine?” He indicates to the bottle and two glasses on one end of his L shape table. You uncork the chilled bottle and take care of the drinks while he brings plates, salad, and the macaroni cheese, piping hot and smelling delicious.
Sitting next to Chris, rather than opposite like you might at a restaurant or on the other side of the L as you have when you’ve been to crew meals here, feels so intimate. As he reaches over to get some salad, or you go to pick up your glass to sip some chardonnay, you can’t help but touch. You try not to let being this close to him distract you… as intimate as this is, as hopeful as you are, nothing is settled.
You take a bite of your pasta and sigh. “It’s perfect, Chris. Creamy, the cheese— everything. Perfect comfort food. Thank you.”
“You’re welcome.” You see him relax a little as you load up another forkful; he cares what you think.
You eat for a while in companionable quiet, then he takes a breath.
“I’m planning on demoting Spock. He has the worst timing.” He quirks one of those half smiles at you, the kind that make you melt a little, but then his expression goes serious.
“My position on this ship… I have to be careful of it. Your training – everyone’s training – tells you to do as I say. So, if I’m… interested… in someone, usually I try to set that aside.” He puts his fork down and shakes his head a little. “Clearly I didn’t do well on that score with you. But… I would have to be sure, before I truly pursue anything, that a person isn’t saying yes because of my rank.”
“I told myself that flirting was just a joke between us. That you don’t get involved with your crew. I want it to be real, but when people assumed that it was… It spooked me for a moment there.” You turn to face him more fully, to look into his eyes.
“I understand what it means for you to be Captain Pike. I understand that the Enterprise comes before me. But I felt that—that pull toward you, long before whatever this was started. It’s not your rank, your position of authority, Chris, it’s you.”
Chris stands from his chair, reaching a hand out to you. You stand and take it, his fingers warm in yours, and let him draw you to him, feeling the press of his body all along yours. You stare into his eyes, and see a wonder there that you’re sure he sees in your eyes too – the knowledge that you can finally have this. But then your eyes drift shut as he kisses you, gently, unhurried, savouring the moment.
You part for just a second, and then it gets passionate as you kiss him back, one hand on his chest, while his other hand finds its way to your lower back, holding you tighter. Your lips part, his tongue finds yours and you taste him, and you can’t get enough.
“So I know your shots are up to date,” Chris says, voice gravelly, when you pause for breath. “Would you like to take this to the bedroom?”
“Yes please.” You don’t care if you sound needy; you just want him. He takes your hand again and leads the way.
You are not quite sure what happened to your dress. You remember Chris helping you take it off last night, but quite how it got this crumpled is a bit of a mystery. You lift it up from the floor, and try to shake it out, not very successfully.
“Breakfast is served,” Chris says, looking fresh and neat in his uniform, not a hair out of place. No evidence to be seen of your activities last night, or how little sleep he may have had. “Oh, did you want a new uniform? I can synthesise one.”
“No need. I’ll have time to change in my quarters before shift.” You pull it on and try to smooth your skirt. “Breakfast?”
“Waffles. And real maple syrup. I know this little farm—”
It isn’t far from Pike’s quarters to the turbolift, and the officers in the corridor nod and smile to you as usual. Until you meet Lieutenant Ortegas.
She looks you up and down, taking in your creased dress with a raised brow and a sly smile. “I saw the duty rosters; I know you’re on alpha today. So… you get lucky last night?”
You try to hide your smile, but you feel too good – you don’t really want to.
“Yes, Erica, I did.”
Everyone will know, but you don’t mind. You and Chris are at the start of something special.
#Christopher Pike x Reader#Christopher Pike x You#Captain Pike#Christopher Pike Imagine#Star Trek Strange New Worlds#fanfic#ask#elen answers#request#noctiscorvus#writings of the girl from outer space#Common Knowledge
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"Patch Me Up, Doc"
Leonard McCoy x Reader
Summary: When disaster strikes on the Enterprise and the unavoidable happens, Bones is there to patch you up again.
Character(s): Leonard "Bones" McCoy, Montgomery "Scotty" Scott, James "Jim" Kirk, Christine Chapel
Warning(s): Wounds, Minor character death, Violence, Cursing
Leonard wasn't sure how his day could possibly get worse. Three cases of Ankarian flu, several engineers came in with all manner of abrasions and burns, and an ensign went into anaphylactic shock. All in the last two hours.
The one thing he had been looking forward to all day was seeing you. Today you were scheduled for your bi-monthly physical. Despite the engineering department being notorious for having the most casualties, you were one of the few exceptions.
You were always careful and aware of your surroundings and you never made silly mistakes. It was one of the things Leonard really liked about you, but that also meant he didn't see you as much as he'd like to. At least you were taking care of yourself. If that meant he only got to see your beautiful smile a few times a week, it was worth it.
Leonard looked down at his PADD and frowned. You were late, which was very unlike you. He had tried to call you multiple times, but you weren't answering any of his messages. After about thirty minutes of waiting, Leonard dialed Scotty.
"Hello?" Scotty said. In the background Bones could hear what sounded like a hundred hammers banging on pipes. That was his first clue to what was holding you up.
"Scotty, where is-" Leonard started, but was cut off by the head engineer.
"Ah! Doctor, what can I do you for?"
Bones huffed and pinched the bridge of his nose. "Lieutenant Y/L/N is late for her medical exam," He grumbled.
"Oh yeah! She mentioned something about that. Is it that time already?" Scotty asked. "We're a little busy down here. I'll send her up when we get this figured out." Suddenly there was a loud hissing sound. It was so loud that Leonard had to pull the communicator away from his ear.
"Dear god man! what's going on down there?" Bones talked over the static.
"Something strange is happening with the warp core. We're running on a power shortage."
"Power shortage? What do you mean, power shortage?" Bones implored. As if in response, the lights dimmed with a dangerous sounding hum before brightening again. "Ah. That power shortage."
"Losing power up in med bay!" Scotty announced to his crew before responding to Bones. "Don't you worry doctor, we have all hands on deck to figure out what is draining the power. When we do, I'll send your lass up for her physical."
"How long is this gonna take?" Leonard furrowed his brows.
"Oh at the rate we're going at, I'd say a couple hours at least-"
"A couple hours?! Forget it. Just tell Y/N I'll get with her later to reschedule." Bones ran a hand over his face.
"You got it lad!" Scotty hung up.
An hour went by and the power outages were growing more frequent. Leonard couldn't shake the feeling that something terrible was about to happen. But of course he was a doctor, not a psychic.
Bones busied himself at his desk filling out some patient reports, when a low rumble coursed through the ship. It vibrated the floors and walls, shaking the contents of Leonard's long forgotten coffee mug. When the shaking slowed, the lights slowly faded out and didn't turn back on.
"What the hell are they doing down there? Opening a god-damned back hole?" Bones shoved aside his chair and stormed out of his office.
The nurses in the medbay already had out their flashlights and were pulling open the automatic doors, which had frozen in place with the power outage.
"Back up generators should be switching on any minute" Nurse Chapel said as she fiddled with her PADD screen. They waited in tense silence for the lights to come on. When nothing happened, Leonard grabbed a flashlight of his own.
"I'm getting to the bottom of this mess." He grumbled and marched toward the door, only to be thrown against the wall by some strange force. The nurses, biobeds and all manner of medical equipment felt the impact as well. Dimly, Bones registered a loud boom from deep within the enterprise that rattled his insides. What followed was the sound of emergency sirens and flashing red lights.
"Everyone okay?" Leonard called out as he pulled himself up. There were various murmurs of agreement as the nurses regained their balance. Dr M'Benga rushed in soon after, along with a steady flow of medical personnel. Everyone worked in a frenzy to prep the medbay for...whatever it was that was happening.
"Jim! medbay to bridge! Pick up dammit!" Leonard hollered into his communicator over the blaring sirens.
"Bones! Read you loud and clear!" Jim responded.
"What in god's name is going on? are we under attack?!" Leonard could barely hear himself think over the sound of the red alert.
"Not entirely sure."
"What's that supposed to mean?"
"It means, i'll get back to you on that. Right now I need a medical team down in engineering ASAP!"
Leonard felt his stomach drop. That must have been where the explosion was. 'All hands on deck' Scotty had said. So many people were down there. He was down there.
You were down there. Dammit.
Leonard hung up and grabbed his kit "Alpha shift, you're coming with me to engineering. Beta and Gamma shift, stay here and get ready. I have a feeling we're gonna be busy."
~~~
Down in engineering, you struggled to stand. Your legs felt weak and your head was pounding. The room was spinning and it was unbearably hot. You couldn't hear anything at first, the ringing was so bad. Then the ringing turned into sirens, then into shouting. Your eyes adjusted to the lights.
There was fire everywhere. The whole engine room was a mess of destroyed systems and fallen cross beams. You couldn't recall what happened at first, then slowly you remembered the alien device. the one harvesting the power. There must have been multiple, and they must have been bombs.
Amid the grogginess, you heard your communicator beeping. It was Scotty.
"M'here boss" Your voice sounded much more hoarse than you were expecting. you must have been screaming when you went down.
"Where are you? I've been trying to find you!" Scotty yelled from the other end.
"I'm by the eastern bulkhead." You pushed yourself up on your knees to survey your surroundings.
"That's perfect! Captain says they see an unfamiliar ship closing in. Given the circumstances, we can assume it's not too friendly."
"Affirmative," You whole-heartedly agreed as you struggled to your feet.
"We haven't enough power for shields. The captain needs us to redirect all the power to the warp coils."
You huffed, catching your breath. "Consider it done, be careful Scotty." you hung up and hooked your communicator to your belt. The smoke was terrible and it was hard to breathe, but you had a job to do. You grabbed a rogue toolkit and rushed toward one of the massive power panels. On the way there, you saw something that froze you in your tracks.
It was an ensign trapped under a large pipe. She appeared to be incapacitated. You dropped everything and rushed over to her.
"Nella! Can you hear me?" You cried out. She didn't respond. "Nella, I'm going to get you out of here! Just hold on!"
You grabbed one end of the pipe and started lifting, but it wouldn't budge. "Come on!" You grunted, putting everything you had into it. You pulled and pulled, but you couldn't free her alone. "Help! over here! Someone!"
Footsteps. Your prayers had been answered. Dr. McCoy came rushing around the corner with his med kit and those strong arms you needed right about now.
"Leonard! Thank god, I need your help! She's trapped, I can't get it myself!" You swallowed the lump in your throat. You were so glad to see him, Bones always seemed to appear just when you needed him.
Leonard froze when he saw the ensign on the floor and held up his tricorder.
"Come on doctor, we gotta get it off of her" You said through gritted teeth, fighting to lift the pipe off your fellow engineer.
Leonard's scanner beeped and he sighed. "Y/N, I... I'm sorry." He placed a firm hand on your shoulder.
You froze, trying to comprehend what he meant by that. "You...what?" You asked in a daze.
"She's gone Y/N," he squeezed your shoulder.
You let go of the pipe and turned your gaze to the ceiling. You were on the verge of a breakdown and you needed to stay calm. There were other people, living people, who needed your help right now. You pressed the heels of your palms to your eyes and took a deep breath.
Leonard moved his hand to your back. "Lieutenant, we have to go."
You steeled yourself, grabbed your tool bag from the ground and darted toward the power panel. Leonard grunted and hurried after you.
"The doors are this way! where are you going?" Bones caught up with you as you navigated the mess of wires, pipes, and rubble.
"To redirect the power!"
"Slow down dammit, you're injured!"
"If I don't transfer the power to the warp coils, all of us are gonna be dealing more than just a few bumps and scrapes, Doctor"
"What you have there is not a 'scrape' Darlin' you've practically sprung a leak!"
"Perfect! You can follow my blood trail!" Everything was going wrong. This was one big, terrible nightmare. The floor shook again and you stumbled forward into the power panel. Leonard fell into you from behind, that was when you noticed the searing pain in your side.
"Shit," you winced.
"What did I tell ya?" Leonard grumbled as he helped you up. You reached for the controls, only to find the displays were fried. With a cry of defeat, you slammed your fist into the keyboard.
"Nothing can ever be EASY, can it?! Time to get creative then!" You went to the side of the panel and pried it open to reveal it's mechanical innards. "You work on me, I'll work on this!"
Bones didn't need to be told twice. He dove into his medical bag for his hypo spray and bandages; meanwhile, you were looking for the command cable that would allow you to divert all the power coming into the panel to the warp coils.
You ignored the sting of the hypo entering your neck and focused on finding your coveted wire.
"Lifting your dress Lieutenant." Leonard warned, already gripping the bottom hem.
"Do what you gotta do doctor, modesty is the last thing on my mind right now." You groused as you dug deeper into the panel. Not that modesty was an issue, you were wearing leggings after all.
He lifted your dress and winced on your behalf. Bones gave it some sort of antibacterial spray that burned like hell despite the pain medicine he injected you with. The barrage of what you assumed to be phaser cannons didn't lighten up. The floor kept shaking, but neither of you payed it any mind.
The world seemed to slow as you finally found the cable. "YES!" You beamed, ripping it out of it's socket.
"Woah, woah, woah. You're messin' up your bandages!"
"No time for bandages! I have to get these cables into that panel" You pointed across the destroyed engine room. "That'll reroute the power, then we can get the hell out of here!" You struggled to stand amid the shaking and Leonard hoisted you up. If the circumstances weren't so terrible, you would have relished in the feeling of his arms around you. Unfortunately, time was of the essence. Once you were on your feet, you were already running through the wreckage to the panel. Leonard was hot on your heels, shielding his face from the flames as he ran.
A powerful crash sent you flying forward yet again, knocking the wind out of you. Behind you, Leonard was in a similar predicament. You didn't stop. All you had to do was plug it in, then the enterprise would finally be out of danger. You tore into the panel. This time you knew just where the cord was supposed to go. You ripped the old cord free and replaced it with the new one.
Instantly you felt the ship lurch forward. All at once, the shaking stopped. The familiar hum of the warp coils lulled you into a sense of ease. You were back on your feet, the ground steady beneath you. You turned and found Bones, pulling himself off the ground. Your relief was immeasurable. It was all over. The ship was safe.
Leonard was safe.
You smiled so brightly, Bones was sure it out shined even the brightest star in the galaxy.
Unfortunately for you, the universe was against you that day. You took one step toward him and your world lit up. You saw nothing. The only thing you felt was pain. The last thing you heard before drifting away was the sound of Leonard, crying out for you.
~~~
An incessant beeping stirred you from your slumber, that and the terrible ache you felt in every part of your body. It took a long time for you to work up the courage to open your eyes, but when you did, you were blinded by the overhead lights in the medbay.
You groaned and tried to shield your eyes with your arm, but you just felt so weak. Instead, you closed your eyes and hoped your head would stop throbbing
"Lights at 50%" A familiar voice drawled.
You peeked your eyes open again and hummed approvingly at the light levels.
"Hey darlin'...how are you feeling?" Leonard asked as he sat on the edge of your biobed. He looked so tired. You just wanted to reach up, take his face into your hands and hold him until he fell into a restful sleep.
"Like I was swallowed by the sun and spit back out again." You tried to smile.
"Well, at least you're feeling something." He placed the back of his hand on your forehead. "I'd be mighty worried if you felt nothing at all."
You closed your eyes and sighed, relishing in his gentle touch. "How are you feeling?" You asked softly.
He chuckled lowly and slowly pulled his hand away. "You nearly get blown to bits and you're asking me how i'm doing?"
"Have you slept?" You ignored his question.
Leonard sighed "you are something else... Not yet. Don't think I could fall asleep if I tried," he reached up and tapped on the screen of the biobed to check your vitals. You wanted to say something, anything. You wanted to thank him, reassure him, tell him you'd do it all again if you had to.
"I'm gonna check your bandages sweetheart. It might sting a little, but I'll try to be gentle," he said whispered.
"I trust you Len," you gave him a tired smile.
Bones pulled back the sheet on the bed. Your arms were all bandaged and one of your legs was in a cast. You couldn't see the rest of you under the hospital gown. The cold air stung your burns and you clenched your teeth. Leonard pulled up the side of the gown to check your cut. You had nearly forgotten about that wound amidst all your new ones.
"Just as I thought," he muttered "Time to change your bandages. Y/N, are you-"
"Patch me up, doc." You closed your eyes and tried to relax.
Leonard frowned and heaved a sigh through his nose. He brought his hands to the bandages, but stopped just sort of cutting them off. He was much quieter than usual. You were used to his grumpy complaining, his witty banter. His silence was unsettling, his hesitation even more so.
"Bones?" You whispered.
"Y/N, I...." He trailed off and looked at you. His eyes glistened with unshed tears. The sight of him so distraught... You didn't know what you were feeling. You focused hard and ignored the pain as you lifted your arm.
"H-hey, don't-" he started. You ignored him and brought your hand to his cheek. He closed his eyes and swallowed thickly.
"I'm not going anywhere..." You said softly. "Not now, not ever."
"You can't possibly promise me that darlin'..." His voice came out as a broken rumble.
"I can't promise you that I won't get hurt... I can't promise that I will never be in danger. But I can promise that no matter what happens to me, I will always come back to you... who else would I trust to make me better again?" You brushed your thumb over his cheekbone. He ghosted his fingertips over your hand and pressed a tender kiss to your palm.
It was then that you knew everything had changed.
"I'm gonna hold you to that," Leonard whispered against your skin.
"I wish you'd hold me in other ways too," you giggled.
Leonard smiled and shook his head. "We'll discuss all that when you're better."
"Well, then you'd better get a move on doctor~"
#leonard mccoy#fanfic#Leonard McCoy x reader#Bones x reader#star trek#star trek x reader#bones#star trek fanfiction#x reader#mccoy/reader
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Crazy, Fucked Up Kind of Love - Alexander 'Tig' Trager x Reader
Tagging: @mortal--soul @yourwinchesterbros @buddinglinguist @spookyboogyuniverse @nessamc @thanossexual @anime-weeb-4-life @redpoodlern @ravencrow83 @nu1freakshow @the-wandering-lunatic @lexondeck @keyweegirlie @theplacewhereallthedemonsgo @poppyrose33 @belovedbastardremus @trublu2u @thebaileybugle @spngingerbread21 @tragerlover @yvette22 @im-just-a-mississippi-girl @proceduralpassion @crazy4chickennuggets @callsignartemis @kmc1989
Tig finds the pregnancy test entirely by accident.
He returns a day early from the trip he took up to Santo Padre to discuss some business with Bishop Losa and his crew. That chapter of the Mayans are looking at getting out of the drugs game and moving towards more legitimate enterprises. It’s been a successful endeavour within the Sons so far and Bishop had wanted to pick his brain.It was meant to be a three-day thing, but they’d ended up covering everything they needed in two. He had been eager to get home because he hated being away from you for too long.
It’s when he’s washing his hands in the bathroom sink that he finds the white stick. The blue cross glares at him as he picks it up and studies it intently. He thinks he knows what it means but he goes through the bin and finds the packaging just to be sure.
Positive.
You’re having a baby.
His baby.
He’s going to be a father again at 50.
He doesn’t know whether to laugh or cry because a couple of months ago he got a vasectomy because the two of you had decided not to have kids. He’d taken a lot of shit off the guys about getting neutered, but it had been worth it because it meant you could come off your birth control. It had been fucking with your hormones and shit, messing with your mental health…
Tig thinks he can pinpoint the night that the baby was conceived. There was a small gap, just a tiny one between him getting the ‘all clear’ and you tossing away the birth control. He remembers the taste of wine on your lips, the music you had on in the kitchen when he went down on you, how he’d fucked you on the kitchen table because you in those pyjama shorts…
…it made him hard just thinking about it.
He carries the stick with him into the bedroom, setting it down upon the nightstand. He knows that you didn’t leave it for him to find on purpose. He can tell you were in a rush this morning, that you didn’t have your shit together. There’s a couple of shirts thrown onto the bed, and you’ve left the lid off your moisturiser. He sighs before returning the clothing to the wardrobe and resealing the container. He can’t imagine what must be going through your mind right now, you’ve just started to get back on track after everything that had happened with Clay.
When he thinks about that, about what almost happened, his heart feels like it’s being ripped out of his chest. If Clay had been successful, Tig would have lost both the woman he loved and his child. It would have completely destroyed him.
The thing is he wants this baby.
His first marriage to Colleen was an absolute shit show, he’d walked out on it by the time Fawn was five years old because he knew that both the girls were better off without him. He knows he can do better this time.
This baby would be born out of love. A crazy, fucked up kind of love but love no less.
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#tig soa#tig trager fanfic#tiggy#tig trager x reader#tig trager#alexander trager#alexander trager soa#alexander trager x you#alexander trager x reader
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