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gallavichsreddie1128 · 2 months ago

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OverProtective (Spock TOS)

Description: After Y/N hurts herself on a mission, Spock becomes overprotective

Word Count: 1,257

Request:Could you please do a Data x Reader or Spock x Reader fan ficm. Preferably where he is protective of the reader. Smut or no smut is fine just have fun with it! But if you don't want to that's totally understandable, thank you!

Y/N sat on the bed as Bones examined her broken arm. “You’re gonna need surgery.” He tells her and she sighs. Great. The mission couldn’t have gone worse…well she could be dead. Bones had given her a lot of sprays to numb the pain and she was very thankful that but if she even looks at her arm she feels the pain. Spock was through the door moments later. Y/N couldn’t even look at him as she could tell that in his own way he was glaring at her for not being more careful. “It uh it wasn’t my fault.” She told him and she knew that if he allowed himself he would have rolled his eyes. “You are going to need surgery for that.” He tells her as if Bones didn’t already. “She knows that you pointy eared hobgoblin. Now go.” He tells Spock so he can fix her arm.

It’s been awhile since that had happened and Spock would not let her out of his sight. Even with her arm better she hasn’t been on a mission in so long and couldn’t understand why. Did the Captain think that this would happen again? Kirk actually assigned her to a few missions but Spock removed her from them and assigned someone else. Y/N had no idea about this until she went to talk to Kirk about it. “I assigned you to a few missions Y/N but Spock took you off them for your safety.” Her eyes widened and she couldn’t believe that her boyfriend would do such a thing. She was mad and the look on her face said so, so when Kirk left the room with an awkward goodbye Y/N ran to their quarters. Spock had the day off but he was gonna wish he hadn’t. “So you’re the reason why I haven’t gone on any missions?” Y/N accused him. “I reassigned you from them for your safety.” He tells her not bothered by her outbursts. “What the fuck, Spock. That is not okay. Why would you do that?” It was like she had missed the part about being concerned for her safety. “I want you to be safe and on missions you do not seem to be.” Her eyes widened. “One mission goes wrong and you do this?” “Y/N it is not my intention to make you mad at me but you must understand that your life was on the line.” “Your life is on the line all the time Spock” “Yes but I am Vulcan so it is much harder for me to be harmed.” She laughed. A sarcastic and unbelievable laugh. “So this is what this is about? You view me as a weak human and you think you are better than me.” “I did not say that.” “Spock you say it all the time to Kirk and Bones in your own twisted way!” She yelled at him. “You aren’t my mother, you don’t get to tell me what to do and take away opportunities from me!” She goes on. “I am your superior, I am above you in the line of work.” Oh wow. “Okay Spock I don’t care. You are not to reassign me from missions or else.” “If that is how you feel then maybe we should.” But before he could finish his sentence she held up a hand. “Don’t. Don’t try that on me because you think it is illogical to argue. It is illogical for you to mess with your girlfriend’s work.”

Christine and Y/N sat in her quarters as they ate and talked about what happened. “Like he thinks that’s okay and for what? He has no right to do that and it’s like everytime we get in to an argument he tries to end the relationship.” Christine listens as Y/N rants about him. “Spock is just like that. But I do know this. He loves you very much.” Y/N rolled her eyes at that. She started to not believe that. “Think about it. He doesn’t want you getting hurt and yes he’s going about it the wrong way but still.” Y/N sighed. Christine was right Spock was being overprotective but he was going overboard with it.

Y/N decided to spend the night in Christine’s quarters not wanting to deal with Spock. She forgot to tell him about it since she was so mad at him. In the morning, she had gotten up and Christine was already gone. So she left her quarters and returned to hers to see that Spock was also already gone. She yawned and decided to take a shower before her shift. She headed to the bridge where everyone was and Spock noticed her. She didn’t even look in his direction. Spock had no idea where she was and he couldn’t even think until he saw that she was okay. “Morning Y/N.” “Morning Kirk.” She said and got to her station that was unfortunately right by Spock’s. “You did not attend our quarters last night. I was worried.” She thought about ignoring him but he never admits his emotions. “I was sleeping at Christine’s.” She said without looking at him. “I would like to be notified when you decide you would not like to sleep in our quarters.” That just made her more angry. “And I would like a boyfriend that isn’t up my ass about everything and ruins my opportunity to go on missions.” She growled at him. “It is not my attempt to stop you from going to work but with your recent injury it is logical that you do not go on any.” “Spock my arm is healed, you can stop with that bullshit.” “It is not bullshit. It is me loving you!” The Bridge stared at the Vulcan. Y/N stared at her boyfriend in shock. He had never had an outbursts or even yelled let alone at work. Without asking Kirk if he could be excused he left. “Sure Spock you are excused.” Kirk mumbled. Y/N shook her head and got back to work.

It never left her mind. His outburst and the fact that he admitted to loving her in public. He rarely ever said it. It never bothered her that he didn’t say it she knew that he loved her. She loved him but she was getting sick of him babying her. She sighed and opened their quarters door. “Spock are you in here?” She asked. She saw him at his desk and he looked tired. “Spock are you okay?” She asked and walked closer to him. “I do not know.” He said and truthfully that worried her. “Spock you’ve never done that before.” She said and sat next to him. “I know and that is why I had to leave my station. I think I am sick.” Y/N held back a laugh. He wasn’t sick. He just wasn’t used to having that much emotion. “Spock you’re not sick. We both are just frustrated with the situation. I love you Spock and I don’t want us leaving each other but you have to let me be me and go on missions and do my job.” She said. “I apologize for holding you back.” He said and looked at her. “You don’t hold me back Spock but this was a little annoying.” She said and he understood that this job was never promised to be easy. “Now how about you relax the rest of the night and maybe take Tomorrow off. You need rest.” She tells him. He looks at her and smirks. “Now who’s being overprotective?”

#star trek #star trek tos #star trek the original series #star trek x reader #star trek imagine #spock #spock tos #spock x reader #spock imagine #s'chn t'gai spock #leonard nimoy

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thedeepgreensea · 9 months ago

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Steps, light and measured but steps nonetheless, ring through the kitchen, coming closer until the beaded curtains to the porch jingle as Spock steps through them. It's only just light enough to make out his sleep-mussed hair, although he seems to have tried to smooth it down with his hands. A sliver of pale skin shines though between the button-up he threw over his shirt and the cotton pants that sit on his hips.

Jim blinks up at him.

“Did I wake you?”

Spock shrugs, rounding the table and sitting down on the rocking chair opposite Jim, almost close enough for their legs to touch.

“I got enough sleep.”

“So I did wake you.”

Another shrug. Jim pours some coffee into his empty mug, offers it to Spock and he accepts, seemingly too tired to even complain about the taste.

The first slivers of sunlight begin climbing over the hills and Jim looks over to see Spock watching attentively, taking a sip of his coffee every now and then.

“This your first sunrise here?”

Spock nods. “First one in ages, to be honest. I haven't had the time to really look at one since I- since I was a child, probably.”

“You work too much, Mr. Spock.”, Jim criticizes playfully, nudging Spock's foot.

“Not all of us can live on their families ranch, Mr. Kirk.”, Spock quips back, eyes leaving the horizon that took a deep golden colour and landing back on Jim.

Jim feels his breath catch. Something inside him claws at his chest, desperate to get closer to Spock. The morning is warm enough to sit outside without blankets, a screaming reminder of summer coming. Summer, when Spock leaves. He doesn't want Spock to leave, and the thought scares him.

You could live here, though., Jim thinks. You could stay.

“Let's go inside.”, Jim says.

“Breakfast is my treat, since I woke you up. What are you in the mood for?”

“Anything as long as I can get a decent tea with it.”, Spock murmurs, leaning over the porch railing to empty the remains of the now cold coffee onto the grass.

“Finally awake enough to complain about the coffee! I was getting worried there. I'll put on the kettle.”

_____

Snippet of the cowboy au bcuz I fear I'll lose interest in it before I finish it so I wanna at least share some scenes :')

With art because idk how well text posts r gonna do on here-

#fanart #star trek #my art #spock #spirk #tos #star trek fanart #star trek fanfiction #spirk fanfiction #my writing #spock fanart #k/s

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queerfables · 1 year ago

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Taking away the glass?

Oh gosh I'm actually so keen to talk about this so thank you for the opening!

Context: Responding to akaitsukicat's artwork of Crowley and Aziraphale separated by a glass wall, I said that the reason we're all such wrecks over their kiss is because after 6000 years in canon and 33 years in real life, that kiss was "taking away the glass".

The glass is a metaphor that media scholar Henry Jenkins uses to explain the appeal of slash, originally published in 1993. Here, "slash" refers to queer re-interpretation of heterosexual media, including transformative works exploring those readings.

This is what Jenkins says about the glass:

When I try to explain slash to non-fans, I often reference that moment in Star Trek: The Wrath of Khan where Spock is dying and Kirk stands there, a wall of glass separating the two longtime buddies. Both of them are reaching out towards each other, their hands pressed hard against the glass, trying to establish physical contact. They both have so much they want to say and so little time to say it. Spock calls Kirk his friend, the fullest expression of their feelings anywhere in the series. Almost everyone who watches the scene feels the passion the two men share, the hunger for something more than what they are allowed. And, I tell my nonfan listeners, slash is what happens when you take away the glass. The glass, for me, is often more social than physical; the glass represents those aspects of traditional masculinity which prevent emotional expressiveness or physical intimacy between men, which block the possibility of true male friendship. Slash is what happens when you take away those barriers and imagine what a new kind of male friendship might look like. One of the most exciting things about slash is that it teaches us how to recognize the signs of emotional caring beneath all the masks by which traditional male culture seeks to repress or hide those feelings.

The vid I refer to, inspired by Jenkin's comments, is The Glass by thingswithwings. It's a beautiful vid, sad and hopeful and empowering, with a very moving commentary on fandom history. It was originally published in 2008, which is relevant to understanding the position it takes in the dialogue around queer relationships in media.

Here's thingswithwings' summary of the vid, as it appears on YouTube:

Henry Jenkins, speaking of the Spock death scene from Star Trek II: The Wrath of Khan, said, "slash is what happens when you take away the glass." It has been said, in response, that death also happens when you take away the glass. ie, if you took away the glass Kirk would die of radiation poisoning too; the barrier between desiring men cannot be removed on pain of death. Homosexuality, or just loving touch between two people of the same gender, is equivalent to death in this media narrative. One of the interesting things about slash is the way it takes away the glass, then puts it back, then takes it away, then puts it back, often pleasurably. I think this is both problematic and powerful. It is problematic because it reasserts the impossibility of the touch (it fetishizes oppression in a negative manner); it is powerful - and good - because it dwells on and thinks about and removes the glass (it fetishizes oppression in a transformative manner). One of the interesting things about mainstream media is that it continues to put the glass back up, no matter how hard we try to tear it down. Queer desiring touches have been, and remain, imaginable but impossible. TL;DR ALTERNATE SUMMARY: THERE SEEMS TO BE SOME KIND OF INVISIBLE BARRIER IDK WHAT IT MIGHT BE

In regards to Good Omens, it's relevant that this entire conversation about homosocial relationships in media takes place within the 29 year period between the publication of Good Omens the book and the adaptation of the story to screen. The vid was created 15 years ago - which is to say 18 years after the book was published and 11 years before season 1 was released - and it talks about realised queer desire in mainstream media as being so impossible that it is equivalent to death. That is the kind of resistance that queer representation in pop culture has been up against, these last three decades.

Crowley/Aziraphale, as depicted in the book, is such a classic example of slash. I've seen some people who read the book in a contemporary context saying they didn't necessarily pick up on any subtext between the characters, and I suspect this is a mark of cultural expectations. Firstly, because the cultural references that the intentional subtext relies on have become obscured over time - see Neil Gaiman's explanation of the "consenting cycle repairmen" line. But more importantly because the audience's frame of reference for unintentional subtext has shifted, too. What is unsayable and which silences are emotionally loaded has changed over time. Even if you are intentionally using a queer lens in your reading, you might not see subtext in the same places that someone would even 10 years ago.

For example, take this passage from the book:

On the whole, neither [Aziraphale] nor Crowley would have chosen each other's company, but they were both men, or at least men-shaped creatures, of the world, and the Arrangement had worked to their advantage all this time. Besides, you grew accustomed to the only other face that had been around more or less consistently for six millennia.

On it's face, this line suggests that the relationship between the two of them is a matter of convenience more than desire. Maybe that's the intended reading and maybe that's how it started or how they justify their association to themselves, but taken together with how deeply they know each other and how they are always each other's first thought in a crisis, suddenly "neither would have chosen the other's company" sounds like an extremely British way to say they care about each other far more than they were supposed to. Plus, this is Aziraphale's take on their relationship, and it plays rather beautifully against Crowley's much simpler expression of the exact same sentiment:

Aziraphale. The Enemy, of course. But an enemy for six thousand years now, which made him a sort of friend.

To go back to Henry Jenkin's wise words, what we're seeing here is Aziraphale thinking about Crowley through the glass - through the "aspects of traditional masculinity which prevent emotional expressiveness or physical intimacy between men". If you came up in slash fandom at a time when seeing queer relationships in canon was unthinkable, you probably find it easier to identify the gap between how Aziraphale thinks about his relationship with Crowley and how their relationship actually functions. That gap was where a lot of slash lived.

You might say that the book shows Crowley and Aziraphale watching each other through the glass, and season 1 is them pressing up against it. They're still prevented from showing the full depth of feeling between them, they still hunger for more than they're allowed, but they are reaching for it. We see the history of their relationship developing through the ages. The unsayable is still left unsaid, but we feel the weight of it in everything they do. They come so very close but they still can't cross that threshold.

And then there's season 2. Within the text, Crowley and Aziraphale are not just pressing against the glass, they're actively trying to dismantle it. They're searching for a door to the other side. They're inspecting for weak points where they could cut their way through. And then suddenly they're out of time and out of options and the glass is still between them, and there's nothing they can do.

As the audience, you feel that desperation. You feel that grief. And if you're someone who's been watching the glass go back up on every relationship you thought might stand a chance of tearing it down, it hits hard. You're longing vicariously with the characters, but you're longing for yourself too, to see queer desire made possible. To see queer touch made not just imaginable but real.

And then, with all hope lost, Crowley throws himself through the glass. It doesn't matter that it doesn't save them. They kiss and it changes everything. Queer desire is no longer up for debate. Queer touch is no longer impossible. They kiss and the glass shatters, entirely and irrevocably.

This is why it matters so much that they did kiss, even though the love between them was already undeniable. For thirty years, Crowley and Aziraphale were part of a media landscape that relentlessly reinforced the glass at every turn and flooded fatal radiation through any crack they couldn't fix. In a different context, that kiss would be less vital to affirming their relationship. But in the world we live in, with the specific history that this story has, I don't think anything else could have done what it did. The glass between these characters had been reinforced over decades, in a culture that made the barriers to open intimacy between men inescapable. Their kiss was what it took to break it.

And by shattering the glass, this story has fundamentally rewritten what is possible. It proves the rules preventing true affection between people of the same gender can be defied. Queer people are already becoming more visible in pop culture; we're no longer reliant on slash reimagining queer longing between heterosexual leads. But Crowley and Aziraphale's kiss is cathartic and vindicating in an entirely different way. It turns slash into intentional queerness. It takes a fetishisation of oppression vacillating between problematic and transformative, and finally stands up on the side of powerful, empowering transformation. It confronts the barriers that once rendered this desiring touch impossible, and breaks through them once and for all.

That's what taking away the glass means. That's what Good Omens did.

#good omens #good omens meta #taking away the glass #fandom history #ineffable husbands #aziracrow #fable talks good omens

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captainsophiestark · 9 months ago

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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

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sleepymccoy · 4 months ago

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“I can go last, Jim,” McCoy offered.

“Ah, hush, you're up.”

“Really, I'm sending you as a final test case in case the transport's still playing up. Gives them a chance to fix it for me.”

Jim clapped his shoulder and nodded his head to the side.

So McCoy squeezed Jim's hand and left. He decided not to think about the cold, instead just hunkering his head down and walking into the clearing. It was probably only twenty seconds until he felt the tingle that meant the transporter was trying. It threatened for longer than usual - disconcerting - before taking hold and the view of the snowy forest was replaced with the transporter room.

Oh, it was warm here. McCoy let out a shuddering breath and wiggled his fingers and toes to check they were still on right.

“Take his weapon,” Jim said. McCoy looked up fast, scanning the room. Green and Singh were still here. A transporter tech McCoy had met but whose name he didn't recall. Jim and Spock. Jim?

Singh stepped up on the plate and swiftly took the phaser from McCoy's side. McCoy couldn't care less about that.

He looked at Spock seriously as Singh's hands went to his arms and led him off the transporter. “Spock, that's not Jim,” McCoy entreated. “You were talking to Jim on the planet just now, you know that's not- !”

“Leo?” Jim asked.

McCoy was gobsmacked. “What the fuck did you just call me?”

Spock spoke. “You know this man, Captain?” His voice was slightly gravelly, pitched just a hint lower than McCoy was used to. It reminded McCoy of when they were rudely awoken by an emergency and Spock's voice was raw from sleep.

Jim turned away, addressing the transporter tech. “Where's Mr Scott? Is he alright?”

“I'm not registering anyone left on the planet, Sir.”

“Okay,” McCoy interrupted. “This isn't a prank, ‘cause no way in sweet ‘n savoury hell would you get Spock onside. What's going on?” His arms were pinned to his side but he could reach to wrap his hands together for some extra warmth.

“You're Leonard McCoy,” Jim said, “I think we had a few classes together at the academy. You're on the Enterprise. Jim Kirk, I'm Captain here. Where have we picked you up from? Tell us your side of things.”

“I know I'm on the damned Enterprise, Jim, what I don't know is why you all don't know me!”

Two Thirds of a Whole

Otherwise known as McCoy's no good, very confusing day in a parallel universe where he never joined the Enterprise, told with a spones bent

The story is basically my exploration of what the enterprise would be like without McCoy. With some making out with Spock added in for good measure.

#star trek #triumvirate #spones #mccoy centric fic

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wwillywonka · 5 months ago

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spock crying in the the motion picture novelization

as i was watching star trek the motion picture today, i found myself wondering how closely it and the book align only to find that the essential scene, the thesis statement of the tmp story, where spock draws a direct parallel between v'ger and himself while crying is simply... not in the book. i know the version that's more widely available now is the director's cut and that said scene wasn't even in the original theatrical release, but the movie is simply incomplete without it. so! i decided to write out the scene as if it were in the book! please enjoy my take on a prose version of spock's beautiful speech

“Spock?” Then, when his Science Officer did not answer, “Mr. Spock.”

Kirk rose from the captain’s chair and made for the console where Spock sat, facing away from him towards the screen that displayed Vejur’s activity.

“I think -" Kirk began.

Then, Spock turned towards him in his chair, hand releasing from its resting place against the thin line of his mouth. He was — crying. A single, shimmering tear was streaking down his left cheek. His eyes, usually so dark and, since his return from Vulcan, so indecipherable, now shone brightly under the dim, warm light of the bridge. His eyebrows crinkled inwards, not in contemplative thought but, and Kirk would have never guessed, worry. It seemed that open, unashamed emotion left over from Spock’s mind meld with the intruder had not yet dissipated, though Kirk was unsure if Spock’s tears were more Vejur’s than his own.

Spock nodded his head, lifting it a little towards his captain, slightly accusatorily. There was no attempt to hide, no apologetic aversion of gaze. It seemed as if he were telling Jim, “Yes, believe what you are seeing, Captain.

“I have returned.”

Kirk felt McCoy step into place at his side, the doctor’s eyes settling on the now multiple tears pooling down Spock’s face. The captain shared a look with McCoy, acknowledging their mutual concern and astonishment towards their friend.

“Not for us,” Kirk finally stated.

“No, Captain. Not for us.” Spock’s voice, if perhaps a little softer than usual, was confident, steady, calm. Certain. “For Vejur.”

Spock raised his hands, intertwining the fingers in a familiar, thoughtful gesture, but kept them suspended in the air, fidgeting.

Commander Decker approached, too, eyebrows furrowing as he took in the image before him. Kirk showed no sign of acknowledging his presence, the captain’s attention entirely focused on his friend.

“I weep for Vejur as I would for a brother," Spock continued. "As I was when I came aboard, so is Vejur now. Empty, incomplete, and searching. Logic and knowledge are not enough.”

Kirk thought back to every argument, every insistent remark Spock made during their initial five-year mission about his lack of emotion, about his fundamental inability to consider anything else but logic and careful reasoning. Were these out of desperation, a need for the humans of the old Enterprise crew to accept his words as fact so that he, too, could cement their validity? Maybe in Spock’s mind, the more times he declared it, the closer it would be to coming true.

“Spock,” McCoy cut in, colliding reality with Kirk’s thoughts and Spock’s poetic words. “Are you saying that you’ve found what you needed, but Vejur hasn’t?” Decker spoke first. “What would Vejur need to fulfill itself?” Spock moved his gaze towards the main screen, just past Kirk’s head in his line of sight. “Each of us, at some time in our lives, turns towards someone: a father, a brother, a god… and asks, ‘Why am I here? What was I meant to be?’” He took in a sharp breath. “Vejur hopes to touch its creator-“ And now, he lifted his gaze, meeting Kirk’s eyes. “To find its answers.”

“‘Is this all that I am?’” said the captain, quoting Spock’s words from their conversation in sickbay. “‘Is there nothing more?’”

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muirmarie · 11 months ago

Text

i do tho need to have mccoy dragged into any/all situations at all times. i need him to exist, and be sitting innocently by himself, and then be fully dragged into a Situation, be it a relationship or a girls' night or what have you.

the girls' night is my point, btw. i need:

the crew staying at a fancy hotel for a fancy work shindig

mccoy grabbing a drink by himself at the hotel bar

chapel and uhura dropping by to grab a drink (#pregaming) and making small talk with mccoy

them bullying him into coming upstairs to their room to show him something vaguely work related (looking back: this was clearly a lie)

he is now trapped in their room. they are getting ready to go out, but they're still talking to him. he is too southern gentleman polite to just leave.

his fingernails are getting painted. they actually look really great so he can't even complain. but he's going to complain anyway.

they are ignoring his complaining.

there are now five other women in this room. he's a little tipsy. someone is doing his eyeliner.

is he allowed to leave?

no, no chapel and uhura have informed him he's not allowed to leave. hmm.

oh, they're all going to a club.

uhura, he loves you, but he's a doctor, not a -

what a great point all twelve (12??) of you make. to the club he will go.

he's not a dancer, he's -

all right, he has been informed he's both a doctor and a dancer

i mean, this is actually pretty fun.

he does actually know how to dance quite well, he took lessons, he just -

chapel if you are filming this he is going to -

excuse him one moment someone is being a creep and he needs to go stand menacingly behind his girls (who will definitely clean the floor with said creep, but still.)

oh look jim kirk rushing to the rescue what a shocker

sorry jim i have been informed that i am not allowed to hang out with you and spock tonight. i am otherwise occupied.

christine, are they allowed to -

no, jim, you are not allowed to hang out with us. it's girls' night.

jim i swear to fuck this is not me not allowing you i don't even know why i am here jim i -

yes, spock, i am wearing nail polish. thank you. that's nice of you to say.

hold on, is nail polish something like???? sexy??? for vulcans???? because of y'alls hand kinks????

lmao jim look at how much he's blushing

i don't care how good i looked - if you took a video of me dancing james tiberius kirk i will end you. i will end -

oh wait sorry i have just been informed i have to go. we're going to another club.

(help me)

#star trek #star trek tos #st:tos #leonard mccoy #and a smidge of:#mcspirk #put that doctor in Situations!!!!!#anyway sometimes one just has to ramble into the void lmao sorry #mine

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v-o-i-d-e-d · 1 year ago

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I've been binging romcoms with my younger sister and we just finished "To all the boys I have loved before" and now I can't get the idea out of my head: reader writing letters for different starfleet members without intending to send them and suddenly the letters are gone and being sent to their unintended targets (lol, probably Jim did it not knowing that they were not supposed to be read or something). Problem is: our favorite vulcan will too be receiving quite a love letter. Idk, I just thought it was cute, you can ignore if it's too silly ^\\\^

This was such a cute request and I love rom-com-type situations so I ran wild. Also, I'm sorry that this took so long for me to get out I have been busy with school and other annoying responsibilities! I hope you enjoy it!

Title: Message in a Bottle

Pairing: Spock x Kirk!reader

Warnings- none!

Word Count: 4047 my hand slipped

Lieutenant (Y/N) Kirk had been having a totally normal day. She completed her duties on the bridge as normal and had just finished eating dinner with her brother Jim. Now as she headed back to her room, she could not wait to shower, crawl into bed, and enjoy the next few hours of sleep before she had to get up and do everything again. When she entered her room the automated door hissed closed and she was finally completely alone. She took a deep breath and turned the lights in the room on. She almost immediately noticed something that completely ruined her peace.

Earlier that morning, (Y/N) was clearing out her storage closet and had sat a white box full of envelopes on her dining room table so that she would remember to find a new place for them. That box was no longer on the table. Now, one might think why is a missing box of envelopes a big deal? Well, they aren’t. It’s the fact that the envelopes were all properly addressed and full of letters to people she knew that she never intended to send. A few sappy ‘thank you’s to old teachers, a couple to her higher-ups including Captain Christopher Pike – the man who told the Kirk siblings to enroll in Star Fleet Academy. These letters would be slightly embarrassing if they got out but nothing (Y/N) couldn’t handle. After all, everything she wrote in them was true and she appreciates everything those people have done for her. There was only one letter in that whole box that worried (Y/N)—her love letter – a detailed love letter – to one Commander Spock. She cursed herself for writing and keeping a love letter in the first place though she didn’t anticipate the whole box would disappear. She tried to think back to earlier to see if she could remember if she moved it, but when she left her room after lunch it was still on the table and she hadn’t returned since.

“This can’t be happening. It didn’t just sprout legs and walk away!” She said to herself. (Y/N) ran a hand down her face and thought hard. She paused, “No fucking way.” She exited her room at a jog and progressively got faster as she headed toward her brother’s room. She slid to a stop in front of the white door of the captain's quarters and rapidly slammed her fist against it.

“James, open the door right now!”

The door slid open revealing a perplexed – and slightly afraid – Jim Kirk. He knew he had done something wrong for her to be angry enough to come to his room calling him by his full name. Of course, he had no idea what he had done but he decided it was best to try to start off ahead.

“Look, I know you’re upset about-“

“Did you move the white box on my dining room table when you were in my room earlier?”

“Wait, what? That’s what you’re mad about?” Jim scrunched his face up and scratched the top of his head. (Y/N)’s eyes widened and she briefly looked around the corridor before shoving Jim back into his room and following him in. The door shut with a hiss and (Y/N) closed her eyes and took a deep breath in through her nose and out through her mouth. When she opened her eyes Jim was staring at her with a confused expression and his hands crossed over his chest.

“Please, for the love of god, tell me you didn’t mail those letters,” (Y/N) said as calmly as she possibly could. Silence followed her question and she already knew the answer.

“Well –“

“Oh. My. God.”

“There was a box of addressed envelopes on the table so I thought you needed them mailed!”

“Jim! Why would you mail someone else's letters? Isn’t that, like, illegal or something?” (Y/N) was absolutely freaking out and, for the life of him, Jim couldn’t understand why.

“I was trying to be nice! I knew you had a long day today and I wanted to take something off your plate! Excuse me for being a good brother,” Jim rolled his eyes at his sister and threw his hands in the air in exasperation.

“Well, jackass, a good brother would have asked before just taking a box from his sister’s room and now there is a love letter headed to your second in command!”

A long pause followed her statement. Jim blinked once. Twice. Then a prolonged third blink.

“What?” Jim had no idea what to say. (Y/N) groaned and ran her hands through her hair in frustration. She began to pace in the entryway and ramble about how dumb she was to write it in the first place and how she should have burned the letters when she had the chance. Jim finally shook his head to rouse himself out of his stunned silence.

“Why the hell would you write a love letter…to Spock? Or to anyone for that matter what is this 1812?” Jim chuckled at his own joke but covered it with a cough when (Y/N) glared at him.

“I don’t know! I like writing letters and I just started writing one day and it turned into a full blown sappy confession that I had planned to keep hidden till the day I died! Now it’s headed off to the last person in the universe who I wanted to see it.”

“Well, maybe this isn’t so bad.”

“I want you to stop talking.”

“No, I’m serious maybe this is what you two need to stop dancing around the obvious!” Jim gestured vaguely with his hands as (Y/N) ceased her pacing. She sighed and shook her head.

“Jim, we’ve been over this: Spock does not feel that way about me. And that’s fine!” (Y/N) and her brother had had many conversations about this subject. Always with Jim insisting that the feelings were mutual and (Y/N) denying that Spock would ever even look at her in that way. I’m his best friend’s little sister and his subordinate, she thought, He’s way too professional for that.

Before Jim could respond, both of their communicators chimed. They were being called back to the bridge for an emergency. They briefly held eye contact before rushing toward the door. As they jogged toward the bridge, (Y/N) continued the conversation.

“Okay did you just mail them today?”

“Why are we still talking about this?”

“Because I want to know how long I have to transfer to another part of the fucking galaxy to avoid embarrassment,” They turned a corner and the lights flickered before flashing red. The ship shuttered and Jim and (Y/N) struggled to regain footing.

“Is it bad that I’m hoping whatever just happened happened to happen to the mail room?”

“Yes. And that was way too many uses of the word ‘happened’.”

Six hours and several shots fired later, the trouble was averted. A rogue Klingon battalion had decided to attack the Enterprise while it was stationary and almost destroyed the engines but quick thinking from Jim, (Y/N), Spock, and Sulu had saved the day. (Y/N) was officially beyond exhausted. She was so tired, in fact, that she forgot about the whole letter situation and went straight to bed after the whole debacle was over.

Day 1 of waiting:

She slept blissfully and woke up rested and ready for the day. She had gotten dressed and ready and made her way back to the bridge. Unfortunately, her blissful restfulness was cut short when she laid eyes on a certain Commander and remembered the imminent embarrassment that was bound to ruin her life at some point this week.

“Good morning, Lieutenant Kirk. You look rested.” Spock greeted her with a nod as he fell in step with her toward the bridge elevator.

“Uh, yeah, good morning,” (Y/N) managed to only stutter once and she quickly cleared her throat. She shouldn’t be freaking out. They walked together to the bridge all the time. Of course, normally Jim is with them but still, casual meetings with Spock were not entirely out of the ordinary. As they walked, silence filled the space between the two and, to (Y/N), it was suffocating. Something on her face must have given away the fact that something was wrong.

“Are you feeling alright, Lieutenant?” Spock asked. His face was neutral but he side eyed (Y/N) intensely. Briefly, (Y/N) met his heavy gaze before looking straight ahead.

“Yup, feeling absolutely terrific!” She couldn’t even believe herself. Spock raised an eyebrow and opened his mouth to speak again but, luckily for (Y/N), he was interrupted.

“Lieutenant Kirk.” It was Scotty. God bless him! (Y/N) thought.

“What’s up, Scotty?” Was that the formal way to address him? No. But (Y/N) just wanted to get out of speaking with Spock one-on-one.

“I need to speak to you. There are some issues with a few of the privates stationed in the engine room and I could use your help to resolve the issue before I throw some people out of the airlock!” His accent was strong with annoyance and (Y/N) couldn’t help but chuckle.

“Sure thing,” She turned to Spock who had paused beside her, “You go on to the bridge, I’ll be in the engine room if you need me in the meantime.” Without waiting for an answer, (Y/N) hurried toward the engine room leaving Scotty to trail behind.

Day 2 of waiting:

It was only the second day, and Spock had already caught on to the fact that (Y/N) was avoiding him. (Y/N) knew it was not going to be easy to allude him while also keeping it a secret that she was doing it on purpose, after all – Spock isn’t an idiot and (Y/N) is anything but subtle. Spock and (Y/N) had a routine and of course in an effort to not speak to him (Y/N) had changed it so that she was usually off the bridge when Spock was there and vice versa.

“Lieutenant Kirk you are needed on the bridge,” Chekov’s thick accent crackled through (Y/N)’s communicator and she sighed. She knew Spock would be there which is why she was currently in the engine room recalibrating the warp drive. It was busy work that she normally wouldn’t do but anything to avoid the impending embarrassment.

“On my way.”

When she arrived, Spock immediately shifted his gaze from his work to her. (Y/N) briefly met his gaze before walking toward her brother who was seated in his chair with his legs thrown over the armrest. She rolled her eyes.

“What do you want, Jim?”

“That’s no way to address your captain, Lieutenant,” Jim had a smug smile on his face – as usual – and it took everything in (Y/N) not to smack him on the back of his head.

“Tell me what you want or I’m leaving. I was working, unlike some people,” She scoffed as she crossed her arms over her chest and leaned into her hip.

“Okay, I am sending you and Spock on a mission,” Jim’s smirk got wider as he noticed his sister’s eye twitch in annoyance. “The planet we’re coming up on is supposed to be abandoned but there should be evidence of a previous civilization. I figured with your archeological knowledge and Spock’s general smart-assery you two would fit the job perfectly.”

(Y/N) took a deep breath in through her nose as she glared at Jim. She sneaked a glance at Spock.

He was listening in on the conversation – an action he deemed logical since it also pertained to him. His eyes were focused on the screen in front of him but he could see (Y/N) from the corner of his eye. He noticed her normally relaxed state was exchanged for tensed shoulders and a glowering expression. Whatever had been going on yesterday had most certainly carried into today. He thought. (Y/N) Kirk was one of his closest friends just as James Kirk was. Though many things that the younger Kirk did were illogical and not well thought out, she knew how to get the results she wanted and always figured out a way for everyone to be happy or at least safe. Spock enjoyed her company even more than he enjoyed her brother’s. She was smart, kind, and usually quiet if it was just the two of them. She was a challenging chess opponent and someone dear to his heart. Not that he would say that to her.

(Y/N) sighed, “Okay. When do we leave?”

“Tomorrow afternoon. We’ll be in the atmosphere at around 12 o’clock Earth time so you’ve got plenty of time to research and prepare. Why don’t you and Spock take the rest of the day for whatever nerd stuff you need to do,” Jim waved his sister off before getting up and leaving the bridge. (Y/N) glared at his back as he left before begrudgingly walking over to Spock.

“Hey, Spock,” she said. Her eyes were focused on the ground rather than up at the Vulcan who was looking at her intently. (Y/N) took a breath in through her nose before finally lifting her gaze to meet Spock’s, “Let’s go get some lunch and we can talk about the mission.”

Before the Vulcan had the chance to respond, (Y/N) quickly turned on her hell and started walking toward the elevator. Spock easily caught up to her before the doors closed and as the elevator began to descend, Spock spoke up.

“(Y/N), are you feeling ill?” Spock dropped the formalities and asked straight out. (Y/N) lifted an eyebrow and looked at her Commander with a curious gaze.

“No, I’m fine. Why do you ask?” This was a stupid question, (Y/N) realized. Her behavior was at best erratic and clearly intentional so it was only logical for Spock to know something was wrong. She did breathe an internal sigh of relief knowing that Spock hadn’t received the letter, otherwise, she was sure he would have confronted her by now – mutual feelings or not.

“You’ve been acting strange for the last couple of days. I want to be sure that your behavior will not negatively affect your performance on this mission.”

(Y/N) fought the urge to roll her eyes as the elevator doors hissed open. Of course. She thought. He’s only worried about this dumb mission my dumb brother is sending us on to torture me.

“I am also worried about your well-being, Lieutenant.” Spock’s surprising sentiment almost made (Y/N) trip on her own foot. She cleared her throat and shrugged her shoulders as they turned the corner of the hallway.

“I promise, I’m okay. Just have a lot on my mind right now.”

“Ah, yes, the letter.”

(Y/N) swore her heart stopped right there in the hallway. She hesitantly looked at Spock, trying her best to keep her expression as neutral as his. She didn't know how to respond I could play dumb, she mused, but he’s too smart for that to work. The man knows my handwriting so it would be impossible for me to deny that I wrote it. She took a deep breath through her nose, Fuck it.

“Yeah, actually that is what’s on my mind. And honestly, I had hoped I could just ignore the problem but I should have known that wouldn’t work with you.” (Y/N) rambled.

“Why would this be a problem?” Spock tilted his head slightly and furrowed his eyebrows, something that (Y/N) found impossible endearing.

“It could ruin things! In so many ways!” By now, (Y/N) was pacing the hallway and Spock was more confused than ever. “You’re my superior officer and I just sent a love letter to you! Of course, I wouldn’t be dumb enough to send it that would be my genius brother. But I was dumb enough to leave the box out and allow him into my room! But I mean, who mails other people’s letters without asking? What was he even thinking?”

“(Y/N) –“

“I’m so sorry! I seriously didn’t mean to tell you like this and if I’m honest, I didn’t intend on telling you at all! My feelings were supposed to be kept to myself! Well, to myself and Jim but he’s a nosey bastard who obviously can’t mind his business! I don't know why I tell him anything and honestly, I wish he’d just – “

“(Y/N).” Spock, tired of listening to her pointlessly rambling on about how annoying her brother is – a fact he knew to be true – grabbed her gently by the shoulder to get her to stop pacing. Now that she wasn’t speaking and instead was staring up at him like a kicked puppy waiting to be scolded his mind went blank. Spock was officially at a loss for words. “I was talking about the letter of promotion Admiral Pike sent you. About the head of engineering position.”

She wanted to disappear. Perhaps if she willed it hard enough, she could fade from existence on the spot. For once, it was running her own mouth that got her in trouble instead of her brother’s. (Y/N) tried to read Spock’s expression but couldn’t and that sent even more anxiety straight to her gut.

“Oh.” That was all she managed to say. She quickly regained her wits, “Then just forget everything I said and we can just go back to normal!” She let out a nervous laugh that sounded more like a cry and started to walk in the direction of the cafeteria. However, Spock hadn’t let go of her shoulder and as she walked away his grip slipped from her shoulder down to her hand, stopping her in her tracks.

“Wait.” That was all he managed to say. His mind was still reeling trying to decipher her quick words. A love letter. He thought. She loves me? He couldn’t believe it. “You love me?”

Despite her distraught state, she had to admit she had never seen Spock looking so dumbfounded, as if what she said was something he had never thought of in any scenario. His hand still held hers firmly and he gently pulled her back towards him. “You love me.” He said again, though this time it seemed as though he was finally understanding the situation.

“Okay, Spock, you’re starting to sound like a broken record, and the record is titled Hurting (Y/N)’s Feelings.” She chuckled only to keep herself from bursting into tears out of sheer embarrassment. This was the moment she was dreading. The absolute end of a friendship and a lifetime of shame. I’ll have to go into exile. Maybe I’ll ask Scotty to throw me out of the airlock. She thought. Just as she was about to speak again, Spock dropped her hand turned on his heel, and headed back in the direction they came from. That was when the damn broke and (Y/N)’s eyes welled up with hot tears. Blinking rapidly, she haphazardly looked around the hallway to make sure no one saw her before jetting away in the direction of her room.

“You left her in the hallway?” Jim was on the verge of shouting. He was absolutely flabbergasted at Spock’s behavior. Spock rolled his eyes.

“I was unsure of what I was supposed to do.”

“So you decided to leave my baby sister in the hallway, by herself, after basically confessing her undying love for you.”

“You’re being dramatic.”

“Trust me, I am not.” Jim ran a hand through his hair and huffed out an annoyed sigh. He paced back and forth, a habit that Spock noticed the siblings share, before looking back at his second in command. “Okay, you have to go after her.”

Spock knew this. It was obviously the most logical course of action. There was only one problem: “What am I supposed to say to her?”

“Apologize for rudely walking away, first off. Then – and this is just a spitball idea – tell her you feel the same!”

Jim was actually convinced that Spock’s brain had short-circuited. Spock wasn’t firing on all cylinders because if he was, he would understand the logical thing to do. Secretly, Jim was happy this situation happened. He had been trying to the Spock and his sister together for months now but he found the process to be similar to cutting a tree down with a blunt axe.

“Beginning a relationship with Lieutenant Kirk would violate –“

“Not if she accepts the promotion.”

“She’d still be my subordinate!”

“Only in the same way Scotty is our subordinate! He only has to listen to us sometimes.”

“That is not how the ranking system works.”

“Who cares?” Jim was tired of arguing with Spock over something that seemed so obvious. Spock felt the same way. “Listen, if you don’t want to tell her you have feelings for her I can’t make you. What I can tell you is that no matter what you do the sentence needs to start with I’m sorry and end with something nice. Turn off the Vulcan side for a change, not everything you do has to be completely logical. Sometimes we just need to do things that we want.”

It must have been a strange sight. The commanding officer of the USS Enterprise stood stiffly in front of (Y/N)’s quarters. He was still trying to figure out what exact words he needed to say and he had taken to scratching at his cuticles out of nervousness. I should not just be standing here. He thought. Shaking his head and finally lifting his clenched fist, he knocked twice. Panic briefly set into his veins as he realized he was actually going to have to talk to (Y/N). A cold shiver ran up his spine as the door’s airlock hissed open and revealed (Y/N) on the other side. He could tell she had been crying, though the tears seemed to be mostly dry by now. Her red-rimmed eyes lightly glared up at him and she crossed her arms tightly over her body.

“Can I help you?” Her voice was scratchy and her words were punctuated by a sniffle. Spock felt an ache deep in his gut from knowing he had made her feel this way.

“I-“ He paused. Once again he was speechless but he was determined to make this right. “I apologized for the way I behaved. Leaving you there after such an important moment was not the right thing to do and I am sorry for hurting you.” Even as he did his best to keep his tone even he couldn’t help the slight waver in his voice.

“It’s alright, Spock. Honest. I’ll be okay and ready for the mission tomorrow. Like I said we can just go back to normal and forget about it.” She was offering him an out. He knew he could easily just take it and go but part of him, a large part of him refused to give up that easily.

“No.”

“What?”

“I do not wish to return to normal.”

“Oh.” (Y/N) believed this to be the final moment of friendship. He wanted nothing to do with her anymore. “Um, okay. I guess you can just do the mission alone or ask my brother to –“

“You misunderstand. I do not want to return to normal because I reciprocate your feelings of affection.”

Oh. (Y/N) thought. A moment of silence passed between them. Spock watched (Y/N)’s face for any sign of emotion but she seemed frozen. He wouldn’t lie, she thought. Vulcans don’t lie. “You do?” her voice was quieter than she intended, almost a whisper.

Spock took her hand in his larger one. “Of course I do. I believe an adequate way to put it would be you have bewitched me, body and soul.”

(Y/N) couldn’t help the giggle, “So you do listen when I talk about Jane Austin. I thought you found romance novels illogical.”

“Everything about you is illogical, but that is one of the many things I find alluring about you.” They both smiled. (Y/N) had only seen Spock actually smile a few times and each time it was like new life had filled her lungs but this time it was even better knowing that the smile was put there solely for her. And this time, she couldn’t stop herself from kissing that smile even if she tried.

#spock imagine #spock x reader #aos Spock #jim kirk #to all of the boys I've loved before #love letter #miscommunication #i wrote too many words i'm so sorry #actually no i'm not

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space-helen · 9 months ago

Text

E.T

Words: 739

Pairing: Spock x Reader

A/N: This is the first thing I've written since last October so... I'm sorry if this is clunky. I'm note sure which Spock you wanted it for so I went AOS but I think it's pretty 'neutral' Spock if that makes sense?

Request: Spock's reaction to female reader singing the song E.T. by Katy Perry cause the reader lost a bet to Kirk so now she has to sing that song to basically admit she likes Spock. As a added bonus you can add a part where Spock tells Kirk that was unnecessary since he and the reader are already dating. If you don't like the bonus idea just ignore it! Keep up the awesome writing! - @originaltyphoonkryptonite

______________________

“You’re not being serious?”

“I won Y/N. A deals a deal.” Jim said with a smile.

You rolled your eyes “The song is so, incredibly, old. Could you not pick something more current?”

“It just makes it funnier. It’s a classic.” the man put his hand on your back and began to guide you towards Spock's quarters.

Grumbling as you went he quickly shoved you inside. Spock stood from where he was sitting and looked between the two of you. “What is the problem? You look distressed.” his eyes fell to you.

“Nothing, nothing.” you turned around to leave but Jim stopped you and turned you back around.

“Y/L/N.” it was almost a warning from your Captain.

“Spock.” you looked at the man before looking down at the floor and hesitating, this was so embarrassing “You’re so hypnotizing.”

“Y/N” Spock spoke, grounded to his spot as Jim nudged you.

“Could you be the devil? Could you be an angel?”

“Sing” Jim whispered under his breath.

You sighed and the next parts came out with some tune “Your touch, magnetizing, feels like I am floating. Leaves my body glowing.” the following lines came out rushed and you took a break.

“Properly now.” Jim encouraged.

“Y/N please-” came Spocks voice as he took a step towards you.

“Kiss me, ki-ki kiss me. Infect me with your lovin’ fill me with your poison. Take me, ta-ta-take me. Wanna be your victim ready for abduction. Boy, you’re an alien. Your touch, so foreign It’s supernatural. Extraterrestrial.” you quickly turned to Jim “Happy now?”

“The whole song-”

“I’m not singing the whole song Jim that’s ridiculous. I think you’ve made me get my point across alright?”

“And what point would that be Captain?” Spock questioned Jim directly.

“Come on Spock, think about the words. What do you think she’s trying to tell you?”

“Was this your scheme to get Y/N to tell me that she finds me attractive?”

“Well… Yes it was.” he moved his hand to the back of his neck and looked at you.

“Did it ever occur to you that I may already know this?”

“You- Then why would you pass up the opportunity?” you watch Jim sweat under the pressure.

“Did you consider in any way that Y/N and I may be in a relationship at present?”

“You’re what?” the man looked between the two of you “Impossible. Actually impossible. Why would Y/N have been so scared to come here and sing?”

“We were keeping it a secret” you pitched in “We didn’t want everyone to know right away. Plus I was so embarrassed. I don’t like singing in front of people.The whole situation was just awkward.” you made a gesture to the room.

“I take your point but really? You weren’t going to tell me?”

Spock came to stand beside you as you spoke “We were going to tell you at the game night on Saturday.”

“We thought it would be best to tell everyone at the same time. Before we go on shore leave. To give you all time to digest the information.”

Jim nodded “Right.” he hesitated for a second “So I’m not allowed to tell anyone before Saturday?”

You shook your head “we’d prefer it if you didn’t”

“So I won’t get the joy of telling everyone I got the two of you together.”

You beamed with a smile “No Jim, no you won’t. But you can keep that little narrative in your head if that makes you happier.”

“That I will.” he smiled. He gave the two of you one last look and you could see a gleam in his eyes. “I should leave the two of you love birds to it.” turning on his heels he quickly left. You heard him clap his hands together and laugh as he moved through the doorway “perfect just perfect.”

As the door closed behind him you wrapped your arm around Spock and gave him a side hug. “I’m sorry. Jim insisted.”

“It was probably for the best. He may have combust if he found out with the others on Saturday.”

“You’re not wrong there.” breaking away from the hug you straightened out your uniform. “I’ll catch you later, I should probably get back to work.”

“I await your return.” he watched as you walked out of his quarters and he could feel his eyes expression soften in admiration.

Tag List: (open, please ask if you want to be added)

All Star Trek: @heyitsaloy @angel-with-wings-castiel @starfleet-imagines @perasperaadastrawriting @butchers-girl

All Fics: @perasperaadastrawriting @asgards-princess-of-mischief @trippol-threat @captainsophiestark

#star trek x reader #spock x reader

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shhh-secret-time · 8 months ago

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hello ^^, i saw your secret soulmate au about craig, i don't have the words to explain how much i giggled, twirled my hair and everything XD! well, when you have the time, could you do a craig x clyde x reader smut? of course, if you feel comfortable with it! reader can be female or gn. it's practically normal smut but just craig fucking the reader from behind and clyde from the front, so that's it! tysm for reading, i love your writing too! <33 -✨️ Anon (I'm still new to tumblr so i might get confused on some things sometimes!)

Completely understandable, I too am confused with how tumblr works and I've been on this godless site since fucking Dash Con. I'm glad you liked the way I wrote those dorks! And thank you for fueling my Clyde agenda!

Warning: NSFW, Strong-Language, Dirty Talk, Slight Sub/Dom dynamics, blow jobs, orgasm denial, threesome

Pairing: Clyde x Fem!Reader x Craig

The sweet air of the votives swirls around the empty church. Empty except for the dim orange and red light that illuminates the book in the man's hand.

A woman at his feet, clothed in fine silks. A mix of reds and whites that twine together. Beautiful patterns of stars flow across the dress.

She dips her head in prayer alongside the man. The father of the church glides his fingers across her cheek as her mouth closes. Reciting scriptures of one's devotion for an unseen God. Everything in that moment was peaceful.

The warmth in the Father's eyes doesn't go unnoticed, the greens darken with a desire that he knows better than to have. It's difficult to hide the growing ache in his pants. More so when the woman's lips curl into a mischief smile, the warm glow of the candles makes them shine with an otherworldly glow. She looks up at him and her eyes fall deep into those pools of lust. Her hands break apart from that folded prayer and onto his black dress pants. They card up further against his thighs where they settle and clutch the material.

"Father, bless me...", a whisper that makes the Father groan.

Temptation never looked so sweet. This woman made his chest pound. Unholy thoughts flood his mind and go straight to his-

You let out a loud groan. Your forehead drops and hits the table beside your keyboard. The forgotten mug with now cold tea rattles.

Writer’s block, the very bane of any author’s existence. It's been haunting you for weeks now, making it impossible to get anything done. You've been stuck on this part of your romance novel the entire time. A part you were so excited to get to!

The buildup was perfect! You had calculated, plotted, and carefully crafted a budding romance between a witch and a holy man. A forbidden romance that took place within the walls of the church, the furthest outside the walls it went were the gardens that surrounded the area. The two fell in love after he saved her from the townsfolk claiming sanctuary.

Inspiration struck you like lightning after you fell in love with your partners. After publishing a sci-fi series, that honestly changed the name of how science fiction would be written forever, you met two fans at a book signing event. You had made a surprise appearance at a local library in some little town called South Park. Coming from the big city yourself, it was a huge surprise that anyone in the little town would actually be a fan of yours.

Apparently, you had quite a few. A man with bright red hair who had a black-haired man following alongside him. Both gushed about how the story inspired some kind of board game they played with their friends. A sweet blond woman who had the cutest southern accent you've ever heard. She gave you a piece of fan mail that had the most adorable sticker on it. Another black-haired man who dressed as Spock for some reason. He went on for a solid thirty minutes about a fanfic he wrote regarding the main character of your book and Star Trek's very own Captain Kirk.

Finally came the oddest duo you had ever met. The two were like day and night, a cat and a dog, fire and ice; the whole nine yards. A bright smile with baby brown eyes on one, and an ice-cold deadpan look with amber eyes to match on the other. At first you thought the brown-haired one was your fan and the man with the blue hat was just along for the ride.

"Haha! No way! I'm not into that..." He paused as if to stop himself from saying something he shouldn't, "...kinda stuff."

"That kind of stuff?" You repeat back at him, raising a brow.

"He means reading. He doesn't know how." The other spoke putting a hand on top of his head. With a little push he forced the brown-haired man's head down.

You giggled at that. The protests coming from the poor man was comical. You almost felt sorry for him, watching him struggle to move the taller man's hand off.

"Then I take it I'm signing this book out to you?" With a click of your pen, you look up at him.

The NASA jacket on the bright blue sleeves of his jacket should have given it away honestly. There's was a small tinge of a blush on his tan cheeks, almost hidden under the skin tone but you were able to make it out under the light. He looked away for a moment before nodding at you.

"Yeah."

"Name?"

"His name is Craig! He's a huge fan of yours by the way! So, if you could write something sweet for him that'd be awesome!" His friend chirped at you as he broke free from Craig's grip.

Craig's face twisted, those piercing eyes of his narrowed down. Before he could reach and grab him, the brown-haired man slid behind your chair. Putting his hand on your chair, he bent down to your level and tapped the blank white page.

"As you can see my big guy has a baaaaaad case of resting bitch face."

"Clyde..." the warning that slipped out of Craig's mouth made a shiver roll down your spine. It was even directed at you, and you felt threatened.

"So, you gotta imagine my surprise when he came home smiling! I was shocked! He didn't even smile when we started going out!" Clyde ignored him, an attest to his bravery. Or foolishness. Either way he continued, leaning down next to your ear. "Your book made him so happy, so it makes me happy. Think you could do that for me? Because he'll never ask you to do it for him."

You look up at him for a while, not even bothered that he had gotten closer to your face as he spoke. The browns in his eyes flickered with mischief but there were layers of love behind them. Chocolate that seemed to melt into tiny hearts when he spoke about Craig. It was honestly sweet, even if he was trying to tease his partner.

"How can I say no to that? I'd love to." You smiled at him and began writing on the empty page.

Yeah, who would have thought that fate would tie you to those two like that. Falling in love with Craig and Clyde was nothing like what they wrote in books or movies. It was a tornado of events that landed you in the eye of it all.

Despite their polar opposite personalities and looks, the two worked off each other well. Then when you got thrown in the middle, you filled in a little spot they desperately needed.

Clyde was social enough for the three of you. He was the one who reminded you and Craig that you needed to get out of the house. When you lock yourself away in your office, he would drag you out with a fun date idea. Movie nights, football games, arcade dates, and his favorite late-night walks. Doing the same to Craig who always seemed buried in work.

Craig gave off such scary dog privilege that you and Clyde never felt threatened. You could take those late-night walks with Clyde because you knew nothing would touch you with Craig following close behind.

That was nice sure, but under that scary looking shell was a soft teddy bear of a man. While he wasn't vocal with affection like Clyde, he was observant. Craig remembered everything, everything about you and Clyde's interests. If he saw something you mentioned in passing it was yours. Clyde needed new shoelaces because the ones on his favorite pair of red shoes were tearing? There was a new pack waiting for him on the table. You complained about the shift key on your keyboard sticking too much? An adorable keyboard that looked like a typewriter was found on your desk the next morning.

Then there was you. You have no idea how these two survived this long without you. Truth be told they don't either. Craig and Clyde couldn't cook to save their lives. Their diet consisted of diner food and Chinese takeout. While their house was clean enough, laundry was never put away or folded. Clyde was horrible at putting his dirty laundry in the bin and Craig was too tired most nights to even make it to bed. The final straw was when you took a shower, and their only soap was 3 in 1.

Absolutely not.

So, when you moved in things changed. When Craig was at work, you would take Clyde grocery shopping. Slowly you started him on simple dishes, working with him until he was comfortable in the kitchen. What was surprising was that he took to it quickly. He was a natural and before you knew it, he was cooking things you had never heard of. He had gone as far as looking up Peruvian dishes, practicing with spices and techniques that had your mouth watering. When you asked how he learned to do all of this, he gave you the biggest grin and told you it was YouTube.

When Craig came home that night to Chupe de Camarones it was the closest to crying you've ever seen from him.

Clyde really stepped up after that, feeling a sense of pride in taking care of you two. Seeing as you worked just as hard as Craig did. Clyde proclaimed something about being more than happy to be a malewife.

In return Craig started taking better care of himself, actually starting to care about his health. He stopped staying up so late and made use of the giant bed. Clean sheets and blankets that felt good on his skin. Even better that you and Clyde would be in it waiting for him. Clyde long passed out on your chest, a bit of drool sliding down the side of his face and onto your shirt. Not that you seemed to care as you just continued to read next to the little bedside lamp. Only pausing when you felt Craig's presence in the doorway.

Craig's smiles were rare, little treats from the universe to you. Ones like these where he smiles with love in his eyes. Where he kicks off his shoes and strips down to his boxers, crawling into bed next to you. Arms wrapping around Clyde and with a hand settling on your hips. A silent squeeze lets you know it's time to put the book down and join him.

How can you say no to a smile like that?

Of course, not every day was perfect. Your relationship took time to hash out. It was different being with two individuals at the same time, but you made it work. The three of you were committed to one another.

Now if only you could commit to this fucking scene.

Your head’s little meet and greet with the table must have been louder than you thought because whatever Clyde was yelling about in the living room stopped. It was one of the rare weekends where Craig was home and off work. Choosing to spend it watching some show with Clyde, listening to the man ramble on about something.

So wrapped up in your thoughts, you let out a scream when you finally lift your head and Clyde is right there beside you. His body bent over just like the day you met him. With his hand on the back of your chair and his face next to yours. Except instead of using, you as a shield from Craig, he's reading your computer screen.

While he doesn't understand what it takes to be an author, he sees the effect it has on you. Days like this where you take on the posture of a shrimp, forgetting to come out to eat.

His lips start pursed, but as he continues to scan over the screen they break out into a smirk. He covers his mouth in a fake surprise, a gasp with widened eyes.

"Babe! This is...scandalous! Spicy, naughty even! What are you doing writing something like this?" His dramatic act continues, forming some feign surprise.

"What are you doing using words with more than one syllable?" You shoot back with a little smirk.

It takes everything in your power not to laugh at the actual pout on his face. Try as you might, the giggles escape your lips, and it makes him smirk. He leans down and nuzzles his nose into your cheek.

"Maybe you're starting to rub off on me babe! I'm getting smarterer with you around!" You know he said that word wrong on purpose, just to get under your skin.

But he kisses you quiet before you can say anything. Holds your face in his hands so you can't pull away. You can taste the cherry chapstick on his lips, and the growing smile along with it.

"So, what's got you bashing your head into your desk baby? Craig and I heard a thump and got worried." He moves the kisses towards your forehead.

"Was it that loud?"

"Heard it over the tv." Craig's voice almost makes you leap out of your skin.

You bite your lip, looking down at the keyboard with a distant stare. The faded green and blue, spots where your fingers had smudged away the paint from typing so much.

"I'm just having trouble with this scene. I've been stuck on it for weeks now." You exhale softly.

Craig raises a brow and leans down on the other side of you. Both Clyde and Craig bent over to take a look at your screen. You're not sure why the fact both men reading your unfinished work makes you feel nervous, but it does. Or maybe it's the fact this is your first time writing a spicy scene like this.

"It's good. Never would have thought you'd go the Priest kink route." Craig says it so matter of fact, there's never hesitation in his voice. You can count on one hand the number of times you've seen him flustered, and even then, his tone is flat.

"I-I’m not into it! I just- you guys are only reading a snippet of my book! There's been a romance blossoming between the two the whole time!" You try to defend yourself, but it only makes Clyde's lips tug into a smirk.

The temptation to tease you was too great, it was being handed to him on a silver platter. Clyde leans up and walks next to Craig, leaning into his chest. The man wraps his arms around himself and lets out a dramatic sigh.

"A forbidden love! A tale as old as time! But what I wanna know babe-" Clyde stops and lets the tension build. It makes you glare at him as you turn in your office chair. "-is why the witch's descriptions are reaaaally close to mine."

"That's a woman Clyde! She's got short brown hair because it was cut off when she was running from the townsfolk! Brown eyes are common and beautiful! There's not enough representation for them!"

"Aaaaaand her dimples?" He points to his, the little spots in his cheeks that sink in when he smiles. "Plus, my eyes are totally beautiful."

"It's not you!"

"Oh, and the Father isn't Craig. Tan skin, black hair? You gave the Father green eyes but other than that, it fits Craig to a T." Craig actually nods along with what Clyde is saying. He's got his eyes closed as if this is some kind of philosophical debate.

"Are you serious right now Clyde?! This is why you two aren't allowed in my study!" Your face was burning now, hot and flushed from his teasing.

"What did I do?" Craig breaks the little fight with a simple question.

"Nodding your head along! You know what he's doing and you're encouraging it!"

"So, you took inspiration from your partners in your romance story. It's cute." He responds with a shrug. He looks down at Clyde who's still smugly leaning against his chest.

Your mouth falls open, you go to respond but nothing makes its way out. Your brows furrow. Arms crossed under your chest in a pout.

Had you unintentionally based your characters off your partners? Is that why the romance novel was easy to write up until this point?

Whatever the case may be here, you didn't like being called out. So, you do what you always do when they get like this, you turn in your chair and ignore them.

Usually this works, let's them know that you're not in the mood for their games. That you'd rather be left alone than entertain another minute of their shenanigans. But this time Clyde wasn't going to let you go. He grabs the back of your seat and wheels you back towards him and Craig.

"Baaaaabe don't pout. Look I'm sorry~." No, he's not. "But hey I've got an idea."

You let out a little huff, enough to where he knows you're not actually mad at him. If you were you would have picked your chair up and walked it back to your desk. Instead, you sit there and wait for him to continue.

"You're stuck on that scene, but I think you need a break. Sitting here and bashing your head against the table isn't going to fix that. Soooo..." He trails off, moving to stand in front of you.

His fingers glide across the side of your face, cupping your cheek so gently. Clyde guides your face up to look at him, behind that cocky smile of his he's got such love for you in his eyes. The way his thumb brushes across your cheek, making your heart flutter so slightly.

"What do you say Craig and I help you out a little babe?" Clyde guides your face up towards him. He presses his thumb against your lips just as his voice dips into that playful whisper.

You raise a brow at him in response. It's not until Craig puts his hand on your shoulders, that you piece together this wasn't just his idea. Thumbs pressed into your muscles working out the knots and tension. For such a hard worker, somehow Craig's hands always stay so soft. The worn-out oversized t-shirt you stole does little against his hands. The material is thin from how often it's been washed and worn.

His hands pull a soft moan from you, it feels too good to keep yourself silent. Clyde pushes his thumb past your lips and into your mouth, the digit presses down on your soft pink tongue. He all but purrs when watches you wrap your lips around it.

"See...let's work out some of that tension. We'll make you feel real good and give you a little inspiration." Clyde hums as he pulls his thumb out, smearing the saliva across your lips.

When he doesn't continue, you realize he's waiting for your confirmation. Waiting for you to agree to their little plan. But that doesn't stop Craig from bending down and placing a kiss on your cheek. He trails the kisses down to your jawline, using his nose to nudge your head to the side. Lulling your head to the side, you gave into the feeling. Craig's lips move to capture the exposed skin. You can feel just how eager he is from the way the kisses turn to nips then to full on bites. His teeth sinking into the soft parts of your flesh pulling another sharp gasp from you.

"Come on honey. Let us take care of you." After he's done leaving small love bites on your neck, Craig moves to your ear nipping the shell.

"Y-yeah that sounds...that sounds good." You move your hands up towards Craig, running your fingers through his hair. One of the rare moments he's not sporting his blue hat. "I could use a little break..."

"That's our girl." Clyde's praise goes straight to your core. He lifts you up from your office chair, hands cupping the back of your thighs for support. They give your thighs a little squeeze, digging his fingertips into your flesh.

Craig moves out of his way and goes to push your office chair back towards your desk. Clyde chuckles softly seeing the confused look on your face. Instead of protesting you wrap your arms around the brunette lazily throwing your arms around his neck.

"We're supposed to be relaxing, we're gonna get nice and comfy on the couch." He drops you down on the couch, making you bounce a bit. He laughs when you let out a gasp of surprise.

"You ass." Your grumbles fall on deaf ears. Clyde just runs his fingers through your hair and gives it a harsh tug. It makes you cry out, craning your neck up towards him.

"Sweetheart, that's not very nice. You're being a brat right now." He tuts, feigning disappointment.

"You dropped me on the-" You suck in another cry when he tugs your head to the side, that firm grip on your roots sending a shiver down your spine.

"Hm? You were saying something? I did what?"

Clyde's smug little smirk made your blood boil. But his fingers in your hair felt too good to protest further. Especially when he switched between tugging and massaging his fingertips into your scalp. You watched his eyes flicker from yours to behind you. Before you could turn around to get a glimpse of what he was staring at, Craig's hands slid down your back.

Gently, much more than Clyde, he pushes you down towards Clyde. His other hand comes down to grab your ankle, pulling your leg back towards him. Once your knee is tucked against the couch, he does the same to the other leg.

If your face wasn't burning up before it certainly is now. Just as you go to hold yourself up with your hands, Clyde removes his hand from your hair and takes you by the wrist. Guiding you up towards him, he places them on the hems of his sweatpants. The grey university sweatpants do little to hide his hardening cock, you watch it twitch against the fabric.

"This is about where you left off right? She was about to take the Father's cock out of his pants?" Clyde says watching as you slowly pull his sweatpants down. He lets out a low chuckle that turns into a moan when you slip your fingers around his cock. "That's it, now keep your eyes on me baby."

There's a moment of hesitation as you bring the tip closer to your mouth. The bright red tip glides across your plump lips begging for you to open. His hand returns to your hair, smoothing down your locks from his earlier manhandling.

The gentle touch makes you look up towards him, just like he requested. There really was something so intimate about those chocolate brown eyes of his. Past that smirk and layers of darkened lust, there was devotion. The feeling of your hands on him alone made him weak in the knees. You put that to the test, pressing just a little kiss on the tip. Dabbing your tongue against his leaking member. Just from that alone he's letting out the prettiest moans.

"Sh-shit, c’mon don't tease me." That cocky attitude of his melts. You almost laugh at how easy it is to break him down. He was puddy in your hands.

With a little hum you move your hand up and down his shaft, creating enough friction to make him buck his hips towards you. He nudges his cock further into your mouth, pushing past your lips. The underside of his cock glides down against your tongue, smearing the pre-cum along with it.

So caught up in your little game, you almost forgot about Craig behind you. Almost. It's hard to forget him when he's got his hands all over you. Large palms cupping any exposed skin. Craig takes his time exploring every curve he can get ahold of. His nose nuzzled into the back of your head. His breath tickling the shell of your ear. Just the sight of your mouth around Clyde's member alone is enough to make him growl.

Neither men are patient when it comes to you. Craig shoves whatever is left of your pajamas down and off you, he doesn't bother with your shirt as it'll pull you away from your lover. Instead, he decides it'll make the perfect handle. He bunches it up until it collects at the collar. His hands grip the shirt and tug it backwards, making your hips rock back into him.

Somewhere along the way he stripped away his pants. The barrier between the both of you was the thin material of your underwear and his dark blue boxers. While Craig wasn't as vocal as Clyde was, with his teasing and little whimpers, he could be just as unfair if not more.

Grinding against your cunt slowly, grabbing and groping at your ass the entire time. He digs his nails into your skin, leaving little crescent moons. Craig rewards good behavior not with sweet words, but by giving you what you so desperately want.

He waits until you've got all of Clyde's cock in your mouth before he finally shoves your underwear down. It makes it to your knees before he just decides to leave them there. Too many times he got impatient and just ripped them off, and too many times you scolded him for it.

The hand in your hair pulls you back from his cock. Clyde moves your head back just enough to where only the tip remains, then slowly he brings you back down. Pushing you all the way down his length until your nose hits his stomach. You watch as his muscles flex under his skin like he's trying to resist letting his head lull back. He needs so badly to keep his eyes on yours, loving the attention you're giving him.

"Your mouth feels so good." He whines when he reaches the back of your throat. You gag around him, and it pulls another whimper from him.

Your hand slides down his thighs, using it to hold you up. The other hand is still being held by Clyde's grip. His hand wrapped around your wrist, holding it up near his shoulder. Craig waits until Clyde rocks you back again, using the momentum to slip inside your wet folds. A pleased hum rumbles from his chest. You can feel it from how he's pressing his entire body against yours.

Just as slowly as Clyde moves your head, Craig pushes further into your cunt. The two find a slow and steady rhythm with one another. When Craig snaps his hips against you, it pushes Clyde's cock further down your throat. Your moans vibrating around him causing him to moan loudly in return. Clyde's whimpers and whines get louder when you dig your nails into his thighs. In return the grip on your hair is tightened. Creating this delicious cycle of pleasure.

"Baby, please. I wanna fuck your throat. You gonna let me? I need it so bad, please." Clyde's begging spurs something in you. Gives you the feeling of control even if you’re physically stuck between the two. From the beads of sweat that trail down his body and the way his body is shaking, you know he's at his limit.

You're able to pull back just enough, his cock springs up with a little bounce. Craig slows down just enough to let you talk, but you can tell he's not happy about it. The way his grip on your shirt tightens, you're sure he'll rip it soon.

"If I snap my fingers, you stop, okay?" You say giving him the okay. He caresses your face and presses a kiss onto your face, letting you know he understands the boundaries you've set.

At first, he's careful when he pushes his cock back into your mouth. You reward him with a swirl of your tongue, rubbing against the veins that are popping out.

"He's so needy." Craig huffs as he leans back up. The assault on your neck stops, but he's left it covered in bright red and purple marks. No amount of makeup will cover up what he's done.

You don't need to see him to know that he's smirking at it. Taking pride in the fact that he's marked you up. Or the pride making Clyde blush from his comment. Craig's hips snap back into you, the force much sharper than his previous lazy thrusts. They're calculated, each time he pushes deep inside you he hits that spot that has you seeing stars. Clyde's hips take up the same pace, shoving his cock into the back of your throat.

Tears begin to well up in your eyes, trickling down your cheeks. Moans turn to muffled cries, yet everything feels too good to stop. They're rough paced fucking brings your mind to a haze. All you can focus on is feeling good and making them feel good.

Craig's close, you can tell from the way he starts to lose rhythm. He's having a harder time controlling those grunts and growls. A hard time not leaving bruises on your skin from how rough he's holding onto you. He's long since let your shirt go, instead grabbing onto the back of the couch. But he waits until he feels that familiar clench around his cock. The way your walls clamp down around him as you cum. The only warning being the high-pitched muffled moan that gets swallowed by Clyde.

His hips slam into you one more time before he pulls out. Grabbing the base of his cock, he shoots that hot thick load onto your back. Heavy amounts of cum drip down your spine making you whine and shiver. Clyde can't take his eyes off the way his partner paints your backside. It makes a trail of drool slip down his chin.

The poor man can't do it anymore, he can't stop his eyes from rolling up to the back of his head. Not when your moans vibrate up him and your throat tightens from choking on him. He needs this release.

"I'm gonna cum baby. Please, let me cum. Let me cum in your mouth." Clyde all but cries in between panting. His begging dissolves into your name and the word please over and over again.

His flickering eyes catch yours again. It's when you give him a little wink and a hum, his cock violently twitches and cum spills from his tip. His cum is sweeter than normal, it makes it easier to swallow.

Slowly he pulls out of your mouth with one final whimper. It isn't until Craig swipes his thumb over his cheek that you realize he had tears streaming down them. Clyde presses his cheek into Craig's hand and lets out a pleased sigh. Once he knows Clyde is okay, Craig stands up and goes to get a towel to help clean your back. He does the same to your face, swiping away the left-over tears.

"Feeling better?" Clyde asks as he helps pull your underwear up. "Nice and relaxed?"

You nod and rest your head against his chest. "You've got good ideas sometimes."

"I've got wrinkles on my brain." He smirks to himself, taking your little praise miles.

Craig comes back after tossing the towel in the dirty laundry with a large blanket. He throws it over both of you before climbing in next to you. He lays his head down on Clyde's and grabs the tv remote.

"Kitchen Nightmare or Hell’s Kitchen?"

"Kitchen Nightmares! I need some petty British accents after my orgasm denial!"

You scrunch up your nose at Clyde’s comment. Almost wanting to pull back. "Smooth brain behavior."

"Smooth brain behavior." Craig chimes in.

The three of you relax into the couch, almost ready for the group nap that comes with the afterglow of love making. That is until inspiration strikes you again. Your eyes light up and you go to wiggle out of their hold. But Craig's arms are faster, they keep you firm against his chest. Clyde's hands come down a moment later, cupping your hips.

"Nope. You're staying right here."

"Guys! No! I just figured out how I'm gonna get that chapter finished! You gotta let me go! I gotta do it!" Your pleads are wasted, like they're not even heard.

"No. You're warm and I'm tired."

"That's not my fault or my problem."

"I'm making it your problem. Sit still."

"You know Tucker bear isn't going to let go. You're fighting a losing battle babe." Craig at least has the decency to let Clyde finish before pinching him. You know Clyde's nickname for him makes him grumpy. His little yelp makes you giggle.

"Fine....at least until you fall asleep."

"Look if you think you can get out of his hold, then be my guest. You earned it at that point." Clyde's smirk returns. He throws his leg over yours and tucks it in between Craig's knees.

"Fuck you." Your eyes narrow up at him. He's not as slick as he thinks he is, trying to cage you in with a sleepy Craig.

"Again? So soon. You're insatiable babe. Let us recover first." Clyde presses a kiss into the top of your head, pulling back before you can headbutt him.

His hand guides your head back down onto his chest and he just chuckles. It doesn't take long before Craig is passed out with his head nuzzled into the curve of your waist. Holding you like a teddy bear against his chest. Clyde's smile grows when he sees you trying to fight off sleep. But it eventually takes you and you lose the battle. He turns the tv down just a bit, deciding to join the both of you.

That chapter can wait another day.

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