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purplespacekitty · 5 months ago

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Three generations of Sisko men gathered close for a jambalaya dinner in Ben's ancient Bajoran lightship, as illustrated by celebrated science fiction writer, Benny Russell. Russell keeps a souvenir baseball on his desk, signed by the legendary Willie Hawkins. In the corner, Russell stashes the sketch that gave him the inspiration for this family's story: space station Deep Space Nine.

Deep Space Nine is my favorite Trek. It has nuanced, 3-dimensional characters who become part of the show's world over the course of 7 seasons. There are some off plot lines here and there but for the most part, the story seems to write itself. I've written at length on here about how much I love Captain Benjamin Sisko and I'd like to share a project of mine I did for a class (I have so far managed to fit Star Trek into three separate final projects for three separate classes, one of which I already posted about here).

Through the lens of Sisko's character, I wanted to examine Deep Space Nine's portrayal of Black masculinity, fatherhood and Afrofuturism with three episodes (although one's a two-parter): "Homefront" (Part I), "Paradise Lost" (Part II), "Explorers" (which I made a post about here) and "Far Beyond the Stars". Initially, the idea was to focus on Ben's fatherhood to Jake, how from the viewer's side of the screen, the two of them break down numerous racial stereotypes around Black men, an important thing to remember with DS9's debut not being far removed from the end of the Reagan Administration, from which sprung stereotypes of "absent Black fathers" and "welfare queens." As I continued with this project, I found I also wanted to analyze how Sisko's relationship with his own father informs his parenting of Jake and what it means to have three generations of Siskos in one room, on one planet. That was how I got "Explores" and "Homefront" and "Paradise Lost" in there, as I wanted to showcase episodes that focus on these exact dynamics.

"Far Beyond the Stars" offers a window into Earth's history as a commentary on racism within creative circles and the systemic racism that shapes the world we live in today and the world of Deep Space Nine. It not only invites viewers into the life of Benny Russell, a Black science fiction writer from the 1950s, but also invites us to consider the link between the future he envisioned of the life that Sisko leads in the 24th century as a Black spaceship/space station captain, father, son, husband and cook who carries the weight of his ancestors' legacy on his shoulders and the reality Russell himself lives in day by day. "You are the dreamer and the dream" has a whole lot more gravity to it when you recognize it as less of an obvious observation of what we've known and been shown throughout the episode (Avery Brooks plays both Sisko and Russell) and more of a nod to the Black future that Sisko inhabits and that Russell dreams of. As a creation of Benny Russell, Sisko and his family are Afrofuturism in a nutshell, carrying on the cultures, stories and knowledge of their ancestors as they live their lives in a future those ancestors imagined and built. Furthermore, Benny Russell's Deep Space Nine is not only important because it features a Black space station captain but also because it encapsulates a fragment of Russell's drive to write his own stories for himself and his Black readers, to breathe life into his creations, to share his art in the ways that he wants to. To cherish his experiences and ideas and imagination and reality through the creative process of putting pen to paper, stamping ink to page, painting scenes to canvas.

The DS9 finale was originally going to see Benny Russell wistfully wandering the promenade alone and implicate him as the creator of not just the story of Deep Space Nine, but of the Star Trek franchise as a whole. Obviously, this concept did not make the cut, but Strange New Worlds' "Elysium Kingdom" follows another story written by Russell, solidifying him as a real person who lived in the 20th century within the Star Trek universe and who presumably continued to write stories that got published after the events of "Shadows and Symbols".

Comprised of screenshots from "Explorers", "Homefront", "Paradise Lost", "Far Beyond the Stars", "Shadows and Symbols" and "Civil Defense" - in which Dukat flicks Sisko's baseball off his desk - (and also a picture of a random coffee table taken by me because we see surprisingly very little of Benny's desk), the collage above is my humble attempt to honor Benny Russell and his creative vision.

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crowfootwrites · 2 months ago

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Oh, Vedek Bareil. Le sigh. So handsome. Gone too soon. I have a major crush on Bareil Antos and have wanted to write something longer-form for him for a while, but just haven't had the time. So here's a lil' somethin' somethin'.

Kinktober Masterlist

Tagging (lemme know if you wanna be tagged for Kinktober!): @horta-in-charge

Day 6: Thigh-Riding - Vedek Bareil x Fem!Reader

Warnings: NSFW, so 18+ only; is sex in a monastery sacrilege? does sacrilege need a warning? | Words: ~615 | Song: The River Sings - Enya

It was a beautiful day on Bajor. A light breeze caressed your skin as you stood on the balcony overlooking the lush, green gardens of the Monastery of the Kai. Red and purple blooms flared in the corners of your eyes and the smell of Bajoran lilac wafted up to where you stood. It was a lovely picture; the only thing missing, in your eyes, was the handsome Vedek Bareil Antos.

No one back on Deep Space 9 knew you were here - you’d requested some time off to travel to Bajor, but you’d been intentionally sparse with the details you shared, not wanting to compromise the vedek’s position. Or your relationship with him. Which was, for now, a secret.

The soft sound of your name floated over your shoulder and you turned to find Vedek Bareil gazing at you from the entrance to his office. His smile was contagious, and you grinned at him as he closed the door and locked it before striding to pull you into his strong arms.

The kiss he placed on your lips was far too chaste for your liking, and you quickly deepened it, your tongue tracing the seam of his lips as he groaned deep in his throat.

“Antos,” you sighed as you finally pulled away, pressing your forehead against his. His hands slid into your hair, placing a soft, deliberate kiss on your jaw. It was followed by another just below your ear, and another along the delicate skin of your neck. Heat crawled up your spine and you shivered in his grasp.

Soon the pair of you were moving without breaking apart, the passion growing between you as Bareil guided you blindly toward a door at the back of his office. He pulled you through it, into his sparse bedroom, where he seated himself on a low couch and tugged you into his lap. His hands made quick work of your uniform, and you promptly found yourself naked in his lap, writhing impatiently.

“Touch me, Antos,” you begged, your core poised over one of his clothed thighs, his robes already pushed to the side. A light flickered in his eyes and his smile grew a touch devious.

“I will, sweet girl, I promise.” His hands gripped your hips and pressed you down until your slick folds grazed the soft fabric of his pants. “First, I want you to come for me just like this,” he murmured, guiding your hips into a roll against his thigh. A moan pierced the air between you as you rolled your hips again, of your own accord. Your fingers grasped the front of his robes tightly.

Overwhelmed by the pleasure coursing through you with every undulation, you quickly buried your face in the vedek’s neck; one of his hands cradled the back of your head while the other squeezed your hip, helping you keep the rhythm that had you rocketing toward an orgasm. If Antos wanted you to come in his lap like this, you wanted to give it to him. And anything else he wanted, for that matter.

It didn’t take long for the friction against your core to throw you over the edge. Your climax came on slow at first, like a Terran earthquake, rolling up your spine as all your muscles tensed and you cried out Bareil’s name, still grinding yourself against his thigh. You could feel his cock, hard and heavy beneath his pants, pressed against your thigh. He groaned quietly. “Prophets, you look so lovely like this,” he whispered, tipping his head back against the couch. In your post-orgasm daze, you trailed lazy, open-mouthed kisses along the column of his throat, finally stilling in his lap.

#vedek bareil #vedek bareil x reader #bareil antos #bareil antos x reader #vedek bareil x fem!reader #star trek #star trek ds9 #star trek deep space nine #st: ds9 #star trek fanfiction #star trek smut #thigh riding #kinktober #kinktober 2024

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unknownfacelessfanfictions · 1 year ago

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Worth it

Pairing: Solok x gen!reader

Fandom: Star Trek: Deep Space Nine

Words: 1.6K

Warnings: This is my first attempt at second POV in over a year so please be nice and tell me what you think, please

A/N: OMG guys, THANK you SO SO SO MUCh for over 100 Followers? May not seem much to others but I was surprised over one. SO thank you so so much

Why?

How come?

Have you gone mad?

Is this your free will? Blink twice if it's against your will!

It'll never last. Just wait and see.

Really? The xenophobe?

Questions upon questions upon questions that have haunted you for months now. You should have known, you thought silently, leaning against the wall of the turbolift. Ever since your relationship with Solok had come out five months ago, the people around you had treated you as if you had lost your mind, as if you were no longer sane.

You couldn't remember the last time so many people had told you that your relationship wouldn't last, that he would leave you and take advantage of you. You thought that it had never happened in your life that so many people had tried to interfere in your love life.

Especially as their statements were "illogical", to quote your partner.

Why?

You loved him, he loved you, for whatever reason he had chosen to do so. You knew it hadn't really been by choice.

How come?

Well, you had started working on the T'Kumbra during the Dominion War due to a lack of personnel. At first, Solok was not at all enthusiastic about this and would probably have done anything to get you off his ship. However, even he had had to see the logic in having enough personnel, even if they were human.

Over time, he had taken the time to almost befriend you, and even you had to admit that the grumpy captain had grown on you.

And when the war had ended and your position on the ship was no longer necessary, he had asked you to stay. He had tried to reason it out logically, had avoided your gaze and even turned green in the face until he had exhaled deeply, looked you in the eye, the icy blue had sent a shiver down your spine with the warmth it radiated. And you had agreed.

From then on, however, it had still taken a few weeks for the two of you to pull yourselves together and, admittedly under the intoxicating influence of Romulan ale and chocolate ice cream, to speak openly.

You had tried to keep it under wraps, but that was quite difficult on a ship full of Vulcans who easily recognised the change in their captain's demeanour as that of a mate's protector.

The good thing, though, was that they were Vulcans, which was why they had been able to keep their mouths shut, even if you had sometimes been met with the odd raised eyebrow. Granted, if you found out that your Cardassian-hating, Bajoran captain was suddenly dating one, you probably would have raised eyebrows too. If not more than that.

It only came out two years later, when you had to make a stop on Deep Space Nine and, due to damage from an asteroid shower, a plasma conduit had exploded near you and you had been taken to the infirmary. Although the injuries were not life-threatening, they still hurt incredibly and Solok did not make the situation any better by rushing into sickbay and demanding, almost emotionally, to see you.

Unfortunately for you, Doctor Julian Bashir had been on duty at the time, which is why the whole station knew two days later and almost the entire fleet a month later.

Which is why you were now getting wry looks from everywhere and worried messages from your friends. Not that it affected your opinion in any way. It was just annoying.

At the moment you were on Deep Space Five because the T'Kumbra had been badly damaged due to a space anomaly and had to be repaired. Unfortunately, the quarters of you and your fiancé had also been hit, which was why you now had to quarter on the station.

Your gaze fell on your hand and you had to smile as it was caught by the plain silver band that now adorned your ring finger.

Xenophobic your ass.

Maybe he had been, but Solok had truly improved. Granted, the proposal had been a bit messy and not really romantic (he truly could have found a better time than when you were led to your execution on an alien planet), but he had put a lot of research into it. Solok had chosen the ring personally and, although it was frowned upon in Vulcan society, had chosen a ring for himself, which he wore proudly day and night and even on duty.

When planning the wedding, you took your time, after all you couldn't get away from her at the moment anyway, as the T'Kumbra was not operational, you had suggested a Vulcan ceremony, but Solok had insisted on two ceremonies. One Vulcan and one human. Although he had given a logical reason (" a Vulcan, traditional ceremony will be necessary, but only in a few years, as my time is not yet, however, it is illogical to wait so long. I therefore propose a compromise with a human and Vulcan wedding so that the consummation of our marriage can be performed as soon as possible") however you knew only too well that your fiancé was trying to make up for his previous "illogical" thinking, as he called it. Even if he still didn't like Sisko.

You sighed and walked down the corridor to your quarters. Admittedly, you didn't normally care much for the hateful comments of the people around you, but today you had met your best friend, or at least you had thought they were, for the first time in ages, and instead of enjoying the time together, you had listened to one hateful comment after another until you couldn't take it anymore.

You had given them a choice, either accept Solok or leave. Five minutes later you were standing outside your door, making the outcome of the situation pretty clear.

"How can you stand this?! He's Vulcan. They don't have feelings! Can you really spend the rest of your life with a man you know is cold and heartless!!!? And then him!! The most xenophobic Vulcan of all Vulcans. He doesn't care about you and he's just taking advantage of you!!! Are you that deluded!!!?"

It had not been the first time you had heard such words and it would not be the last.

The doors opened and closed behind you and the sight made you melt inside. The table was set, the napkins folded as if with a ruler, they probably were, and wine glasses were placed at an exact, equal distance from the plates. The smell of your favourite dish drifted through the room and you could see, as you glanced around the corner, Solok in civilian clothes and with a black apron around his neck, standing in the small kitchen.

A smile crept onto your lips as you approached.

Cold and emotionless. Of course. If only they could all see him now. How he read the recipe with a concentrated expression on his face, looked to the ingredients in front of him and then worked on them carefully and precisely. You knew he didn't really need the recipe, but the very fact that he did it to be one hundred percent sure he wasn't ruining your favourite dish made your heart beat faster and a feeling of warmth and love rise inside you.

He was so focused on his task that he only noticed you when you wrapped your arms around him. "I didn't know you had one of those." Smiling, you propped your chin on his shoulder and ran your finger over the hem of the apron.

Solok looked down at you. "I have owned it for some time. It avoids unnecessary dirt stains on my clothes."

You chuckled lightly. "Solok, I know what an apron is and what it's good for."

With one last look, Solok ascertained that the food would not burn, before turning and wrapping his arms around you as well, raising an eyebrow. "You're home early. I thought you wanted to spend time with your friend." You bury your face in his neck. "We had... a disagreement."

Slowly, you felt Solok's mind ask entrance into yours and you granted it for a brief moment. This was all he needed before he withdrew and released you from his arms.

"Ah. I see. It was about your relationship with me."

You sighed. Of course, you knew that while Solok always brushed those comments aside and dismissed them as illogical, deep down, he felt guilt for somehow being the cause of those constant arguments.

"Forgive me, Ashayam."

You shook your head. "For what, Solok? It's not your fault that the people around us are idiotic, non-tolerant assholes."

For a moment he smirked slightly at your expression before turning to the food with a conflicted look on his face. "However, it is my fault that because of my illogical mistakes of my past, a bad light is now cast on you. If you weren't romantically involved with me, people wouldn't think worse of you and your friend wouldn't have left you."

You frowned and reached for his hand, causing him to dart around to you. "And I don't care, Solok. No, you know what? I'm grateful for it. Otherwise I wouldn't have found out what assholes they can be."

"But Ashayam, your position-"

"You're worth it," you interrupted him, whispering, and put your hand to his cheek, against which he instantly nuzzled, as if by reflex. "You are worth all these comments and looks and idiots, understand? I love you and those comments won't change that." You smirked slightly and felt for his fingertips.

"But if you have any doubts, feel free to take the ring back."

A growl escaped him and he wrapped his arms around you again and buried his face in your neck, eliciting a laugh.

"Don't even think about it, Ashayam."

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@bigblissandlove1

#star trek #star trek ds9 #star trek deep space nine #captain solok #solok #solok x reader #captain solok x reader #t'kumbra #take me out to the holosuite #ds9

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oldschoolfic-ds9 · 8 months ago

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Sympathy for the Devil

by KJohnson (wynlady), 1999

Bashir becomes involved in a dangerous romantic liaison with Jareth, the Goblin King, who comes to the station and accuses the Bajorans of attempting to destroy his world. As the DS9 crew works to solve the mystery of a pair of ancient Bajoran artifacts - plus some bizarre Bajoran disappearances - and save Jareth's world, Garak confronts his feelings for Bashir, who Jareth offers to him as part of a sinister deal that could change the future of Bajor and Cardassia. Garak later regrets refusing the offer and makes blatant overtures to Bashir, who now in turn must face his own feelings for the tailor, and his love for Jareth, as the dangerous love-triangle heads into danger deep in Cardassian territory.

Words: 63350, Chapters: 1/1, Language: English

Rating: NC-17

Warnings: hurt/comfort, bdsm

Characters: Julian Bashir, Elim Garak

Relationships: Bashir/Jareth (Labyrinth), Garak/Bashir

Reader suggested tags (what are these?): crossover - Labyrinth, Strange Fits of Passion (Issue 5, May/Jun 1999), illustrated by HCook

links (link broken? report it and try the archive.org alternative):

tripod (pt1, pt2, pt3, pt4, pt5)

archive.org - option 1 (pt1, pt2, pt3, pt4, pt5) / option 2 (pt1, pt2, pt3, pt4, pt5)

#year1999 #citrusfic #jbashir #egarak #garakbashirfic #additional tags: hurtcomfort #crossover #additional tags: illustrated #60kto100k

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deepspacedukat · 1 year ago

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Patience

Alright, here comes day two! Vreenak has entered the chat!

Day 2: Orgasm Denial

SOC prompt list here. SOC Masterlist here. Cross-posted to AO3 here.

~*~

Vreenak (ST:DS9) x Reader

[A/N: This is smut, so 18+ ONLY, MINORS DNI!!!]

Warnings: Interspecies sex, Romulan/Human sex, orgasm denial, dirty talk, fingering, necking, almost getting caught, power imbalance, power play, getting interrupted, enemies to lovers kind of.

~*~

“Do you do that for the sole purpose of annoying me?” Vreenak’s low, silken voice seemed almost too loud in the confined space of the motionless turbolift. At least ten minutes had passed since either of us had spoken, and we’d been stuck between levels for nearly half an hour. We’d received one communication from Ops saying that we’d be out soon, then we were left on our own.

“What?” I asked meeting his icy, irate gaze with confusion.

“You’re tapping your foot,” he said gesturing to the offending appendage.

“So?” I didn’t dare admit that I was just getting rid of some nervous energy. That would open a whole other can of worms that I didn’t want to have to deal with while I was stuck here with Vreenak.

“So it’s irritating,” he snapped with a pointed glare. “I’ve half a mind to cut it off at the joint if you don’t stop.”

“With what? Your shit attitude? Besides, it’s no worse than your pacing a while back,” I muttered under my breath as I leaned against the back wall of the turbolift and crossed one ankle over the other. Folding my arms across my chest, I acknowledged that it was bad enough that he hated me and everything that I did. He didn’t need to know that I was attracted to him, bad attitude and all.

Fine. If he wanted to be an ass on what was already the worst day I’d had aboard this damn station, who was I to stop him? It wasn’t like I hadn’t tried in the past. Apparently, everything I did, including the way I dressed, annoyed the Senator. For a man his age, he really should have better manners.

“You’re lucky we’re not on Romulus. Speaking that way to a man in my position would undoubtedly garner more serious consequences than you could anticipate.” Was I crazy or was there a hint of amusement in his voice? I didn’t bother to look up. I just took a deep, slow breath, and tried to concentrate on anything but the fact that I was stuck in such a confined space with a man who clearly despised me. “Oh, don’t go quiet on me now. I thought even the weakest Humans had more fight in them than that.”

Stubbornly staring ahead at the dark, non-functioning panel on the opposite wall of the turbolift, I listened to both our breaths.

“I suppose I was wrong. How disappointing. What meetings will I miss if we’re stuck here for the next few hours? Or didn’t you have time to memorize my schedule this morning?” Despite his snide comment, I was glad he changed the subject. A little of my tension melted away. I could handle business talk.

“Don’t be absurd. I’ve worked for you for how long now? You’ll only miss one. A Bajoran Minister and Admiral Ross were scheduled for three hours of your time, beginning roughly an hour from now,” I answered without missing a beat. “I believe they wanted to discuss some prior incident that occurred a few years ago at a place called Derna.”

“Oh, wonderful,” he groused, and I glanced up just in time to see him pinching the bridge of his nose with those long, agile, stupidly gorgeous fingers of his. A professional sculptor couldn’t have done a better job– Stop it, stop it! Get your mind out of the gutter! “That’ll be three hours of posturing wrapped up in pointless, transparent appeasement and assurances. Utterly tedious.”

“You could always cancel or reschedule,” I suggested as he leaned against the lift wall beside me with a sigh. “I could tell them that I’d accidentally double-booked your appointments, or something so you wouldn’t be blamed.”

My mind screamed that after how he nitpicked everything I did, he deserved to suffer through a rough meeting. Just a little bit. Why was I offering him an alternative?

Those sharp, blue eyes that I both hated and adored in turns scanned my face - presumably to determine whether I was serious. After the absurdity of the day, I supposed that was only fair. Beginning the day with a drunk Klingon tearing up his office, an Andorian challenging me to a fight in said destroyed office because the Senator was busy, and the replicator nearly exploding in both our faces when we tried unsuccessfully to order lunch...that wasn’t exactly a normal day.

This turbolift incident, as inconvenient as it was, at least afforded us a moment to breathe. Sure, we’d still have to clean up his office, give statements to security about the Klingon and the Andorian, and put in a repair call for the replicator, but, for now, all we had to do - all we could do - was stay put and wait.

Well, that and try not to kill each other before the station’s engineering team could get us out. That was much easier said than done, especially on Vreenak’s part. The Senator certainly had a temper, but I’d only seen him really lose it once. He’d needed a new desk, and the person he’d thrown through it needed major surgery. His anger with me never seemed quite that intense, though.

“Who are you to assume the relative importance of my appointments?” Vreenak’s voice dropped to that low, raspy register with which I’d become so familiar and agitated over the last few months. That tone always made me question whether he was serious or teasing, so I usually didn’t push my luck.

Today, however, I was feeling foolishly bold. After all the chaos of the morning culminated in this damn turbolift trapping us, I’d had enough. My patience had run out, and Vreenak’s snide little comment was the straw that broke the camel’s back.

“I think I’m the one who sets up your schedule and keeps angry Admirals from bursting into your office. I was trying to do something nice for you, not that you could tell. You wouldn’t know kindness if it bit those pretty, pointed ears of yours,” I retorted before I could think better of it. His eyes widened in surprise, but I wasn’t done yet. I’d been kind, I’d been accommodating, but that didn’t mean I was going to allow him to walk all over me just because I was nothing more than a glorified secretary to the man. Like a tidal wave, all my built-up frustration with the man came spilling out of me before I could stop it. “If you really want to deal with Starfleet and the Bajorans after a day like today, by all means, go right ahead! Don’t listen to your secretary’s advice. See how well that goes. After all, what the hell do I know? I’m just a Human. I’ve only covered for you about a dozen times! Heaven forbid I try to make things easier for you, you arrogant, ungrateful bastar–”

“Shut up,” he growled pinning me against the wall with one arm and grabbing my jaw with the other. The thought flickered across my mind that he might snap my neck. Instead, he crushed his mouth against mine in a hard kiss. After a beat of frozen surprise, I kissed him back with the same level of intensity. For several long moments, we lost ourselves in a dance of teeth and tongues.

He was essentially my boss. This should feel wrong, but every movement he made felt so perfect. His hands slid down my body with something like hasty reverence.

“Fuck you.” The words spilled involuntarily from my lips as he ground the heel of his palm between my thighs over my uniform.

“You seem quite eager to try,” Vreenak pointed out as I spread my legs for him. Practically clawing at the closure to my pants, he swore quietly when he dipped those long, devious fingers of his beneath my clothes and found me dripping.

He asked me something, but I could do no more than let out a desperate whine as he shoved two long digits into me. Grabbing his shoulders to steady myself, I tugged him closer.

“You’re infuriating,” he hissed as I bit the corner of his jaw. In retaliation, his fingers curled mercilessly, striking that place inside me over and over with unrelenting precision.

“Says the most irritating man in existence,” I gasped, rolling my hips to try and get more friction. Burying his head in the crook of my neck, Vreenak moaned as I palmed the bulge that had been pressing against me so insistently. Intense satisfaction poured through me when he began rutting slowly into my touch.

“Yes, but you want me, nonetheless. Don’t deny it. I’ve seen the way you look at me,” the Senator lorded that observation proudly over me even as he dragged me closer and closer to an orgasm. “Beautiful, pliant, little thing...”

“I fucking hate you,” I breathed, but my protest was so feeble and obviously false that neither of us could stifle our half-choked laughter.

“You’ve always been such an awful liar,” Vreenak murmured slanting his mouth over mine with an affection that I hadn’t anticipated. His hand sped up, intent on drawing screams from me. I was so close I could taste it. The lift jolted, but neither of us paid any attention. My breathing was no more than a stream of whimpered pleas as I began to tip over the edge–

“Ops to Turbolift Four, please respond,” a voice crackled over the comm, and we froze. Our labored breathing seemed almost too loud, now. With both our orgasms stolen away by reality’s return, Vreenak helped steady me on my feet before going to the comm panel. “Our controls show that you should be moving now. Can you confirm?”

“Yes, Ops. We’re moving,” the Senator said as he readjusted himself in his pants and took slow, deliberate breaths. I couldn’t help but smirk at the knowledge that he’d been as close as I’d been. Tuning out the conversation, I righted my clothing and tried to make myself look as if I hadn’t just been fingered within an inch of my sanity by my boss.

Mere seconds later when the turbolift opened on the level where the Senator’s office was, we both looked relatively put together for people who’d just been wrapped around each other. Navigating through the small group of people who were gathered at the lift entrance, I was suddenly grateful for the officer who’d interrupted us. If they hadn’t, we would’ve had quite the captive audience when the door had opened. We were almost to his door when one of Vreenak’s hands took up residence on my lower back.

“Cancel that appointment, but don’t pretend you double booked. Tell them the truth. Tell them...that an urgent personal matter has arisen that requires my immediate attention,” he murmured as we paused in the empty hallway. He tilted my chin up and gave me a mischievous smirk. “Once you’ve done that, I’d like you to come to my quarters. I believe you owe me a few screams for talking back to me, my dear.”

“Oh my, Senator, whatever will people say?” I teased winking up at him.

“If they’re wise, they won’t say a word. The ones who do, well...let’s not forget that I’m the Vice Chairman of the Tal.” His playful threat drew a laugh from me.

“You’d make someone disappear for gossiping about us?”

“For you, I’d make whole worlds disappear.” Having stunned me into silence, Vreenak placed a soft kiss on my forehead and started to walk away. One final teasing comment floated over to me as I moved to enter his office. “Don’t take too long, or I may have to begin without you.”

~*~*~

Taglist:

@bigblissandlove1 @darkmattervibes @emilie786 @horta-in-charge @toebeans-mcgee @android-boyfriends @wafflingchemist @starrynightgardens @slutty-slutty-vulcans

#deepspacedukat fic #soc 2023 #soc day 2 #Senator Vreenak x Reader #Vreenak x Reader #Senator Vreenak #summerofcum2023

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neuroprincess · 11 months ago

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Tequila, Whiskey & Bloodwine - Kira Nerys/Reader

Major Kira Nerys/Lieutenant Female Reader

Summary: After a drunken night with her best friend, Kira has to face her feelings for Y/N or do the easiest thing, run away.

Classification: Light angst, fluff

Warnings: Alcohol consumption

Word count: +2000

Unrevised

"One, two, three, now!" Kira shouts over another shot of aldebaran whiskey, laughing at her friend's expression as she does the same, totally unaccustomed to the taste.

"Damn, that's really good, but strong." Y/N mutters, lips becoming numb "It probably wasn't a good idea to drink tequila earlier."

"Maybe not at all, however, I think your alcohol tolerance is low." the brunette places the glass on the counter and watches the surroundings, there's still a big commotion at Quark's.

"Or your tolerance is high, darling." she defends, feigning indignation at the accusation "Nerys..." then calls her by given name, something unusual.

"Yes, sweetie?"

"Have you ever tried a Kiss On The Lips?" she asks, approaching slowly, the woman blushes and just nods negatively "Do you want to try mine?"

And everything after that becomes a blur, a fog in the memory.

If there was a sunny morning with rays and heat beating against their faces through the window, it would certainly bother them. The bajoran moans and tries to move her arm without success, a weight limiting any movement, it's warm, soft and smells incredible, intoxicating all her senses. She smiles holding onto it and hugging the body, feeling every part and curve against her. Strands sweep across her face, the scent intensifies and without even realizing it she inhales, searching for more, lips ajar brushing across soft skin, closing to plant a kiss on the place.

"That tickles." a familiar voice whispers and she jumps out of bed recognizing who it is.

"Y/N?! What the hell are you doing here?" Kira rubs her eyes and analyzes the situation "And half naked?"

"Good morning to you too." she gets up, putting a hand to the temple feeling a twinge, surely just the beginnings of an annoying headache "And we're not much different."

Nerys gasps as she looks down and finds that they're in the same position, wearing only panties and bra, immediately trying to cover herself with both hands. They stare at each other for a millisecond before she runs to the bathroom, anticipating the shame consuming and her cheeks starting to blush. Finally alone, starts freaking out, a dozen scenarios running through her head, no matter how hard she tries to search in the back of mind for some memory or what happened, how the two of them ended up in this situation, nothing comes up except shots of different drinks and a short talk until everything goes dark. A talk that makes her blush even more, a heat rising up her neck and making sweat out of nervousness. It was the lieutenant who started with a double meaning, she doesn't remember if they continued or what it led to, her body is strangely sore and there's a bruise between neck and collarbone.

"Rys!" the younger calls from the other room, the nickname making her blood run cold "I can't find my clothes, can I borrow some of yours?"

"Sure, sure, I'll... I'll take a shower, you can go ahead and meet me for breakfast."

A few minutes later, she heard the bedroom door close and let out the breath that she didn't even know was holding, the nausea hitting hard, the rest of the drink still in mouth and an imminent headache, announced by a familiar pressure. Despite her age, she had been deprived of a few luxuries as a refugee and later as a resistance combatant. There were few opportunities for her to sit down and just enjoy a social occasion, to indulge a little in alcohol, to experience the normality she had been denied. Even so, it doesn't seem right. Then questions arise, the fear of having done something while out of her mind and someone from the militia or starfleet having witnessed it, or, the biggest question, having slept with her best friend and, worst of all, not remembering it, any of the details or the circumstances. The possibilities consume her as she walks to Quark's and instantly regrets having arranged to meet Y/N for the meal, frightened by the mere sight of her. Wearing her clothes. Earthy tones in loose fabrics contrasting with skin, slightly messy hair and a very cute sleepy face that makes the heart melt as she watches her sip a raktajino, soft lips catching her eyes more than she would admit. She knows she should join her friend, ignore all fears and spend a pleasant morning off, but she can't, it seems impossible. Thinking, hoping, that hasn't been seen, she turns around and runs back to her quarters, unable to face the girl. And, like an embarrassed teenager, runs away from her for the rest of the day with a dozen lame excuses, forgetting that they will have to work together the next day.

"Y/L/N, go with Major Kira to the docking bays, a klingon ship has been rescued near the station, leaving from here, and needs immediate repairs." O'Brien orders, stepping up onto his platform, and smiles at his pupil's sudden animation, he'd noticed how downcast she'd been since the start of the shift "Is that okay for you, Kira?"

"Why wouldn't I be?" the Bajoran retorts immediately, a little rougher than expected, without turning in their direction "Let's go before we get some impatient big guys."

The path is tortuously silent, unlike the way the pair are in everyday life, always cheerful with casual chats and sneaking around the station corridors when they're not sharing a meal. Y/N opens her mouth a few times, trying to start a conversation, but is always interrupted by some guidance, finally giving up when she realizes the indifference of her usually warm friend.

"Kira?" she calls, a door behind access to the docking bay "Why are you avoiding me?"

"I'm not avoiding you, Lieutenant."

"Well, you didn't even say good morning to me and seem to be purposely distancing yourself." her words are almost painful, the weight of the day finally affecting "I saw you leave yesterday and, after that, you avoided me at all costs. Did I offend you in any way? If it's the clothes or that night..."

"It's nothing, Y/N."

"So what is it?"

About to answer, she is interrupted by the passage being opened and Odo appears accompanied by three klingons, well-known merchant brothers from the House of Ral'kur, specializing in the trade of exotic and rare materials, who were passing through the station. The tallest and eldest of them, Jarnok, takes two steps forward, bowing slightly as a sign of respect to the major, who is confused and doesn't know why or how to react, she looks at both friends for answers and they giggle.

"Qapla, it's good to see you again, Kira Nerys. Well, you've proved yourself to be a formidable woman and worthy of my respect and admiration." he compliments, standing up straight again.

"Do we know each other?" the brunette asked, squinting her eyes, scanning back through memories in search of something, they had never even spoken.

"She's humorous." Draxan, another Klingon, laughs and slaps his brother on the shoulder "No need to be modest, it's not every day that someone manages to defeat Jarnok in a hand-to-hand duel."

"I think we better start repairs so you can get back on route as soon as possible." Odo intervenes and directs them to the other side to check the outside of the ship.

Taking a minute to assimilate what she's just heard, Kira can't believe she's got it right.

"Did he really say that or is my brain playing tricks?" she asks when they are finally alone, inside the ship's facilities, and begins to get nervous, a little irritated, sounds like a joke "How did I duel with a fucking Klingon?"

"Well, it was kind of my fault." Y/N tries to explain, without knowing exactly how "I lost a lot playing strip poker, some of them stared at me, you got angry and thought it was clever to duel with one of them to defend my honor."

"You? Me? Wait, you were half naked at Quark's?" jealousy burns in the pit of her stomach and she's livid just imagining such a scene, that others have had the privilege of seeing the same thing she saw the morning before "That's crazy, not in a good way. We'll never go there again, those Ferengi..."

"What about my breakfast?"

"I'll make it for you, we're just not there anytime soon." she replies quickly "Now, how did I win the duel? It's fucking impossible."

"It was probably the effect of the bloodwine. That was kind of my fault too." the lieutenant mutters embarrassed "We bet."

"That I would drink?"

"That we would both drink, but you were right, I'm weak on alcohol." the younger concludes, ashamed, the memories of that night popping into head and making her blush "I have to say, you looked really hot knocking Jarnok to the ground with just one blow."

"With just one blow?"

"Quick and accurate."

"It explains my sore body. And the bruise on my neck."

"That was me too." Kira freezes and swallows dry with fear at this affirmation "We fell on the turbolift and I accidentally elbowed you."

"Oh, for a moment I thought..."

"That we had slept together.. Is that why you've been avoiding me?" everything starts to click into place and she gasps, feeling the tears choking, the behavior being a clear response to how she feels about this and them "Nothing happened, don't worry, even drunk I know and respect boundarie and limits." she spits, feeling the bitterness of each word like a poison on the tip of tongue "I'll check the control panels, Major."

She barely manages to take two steps only to be held by defined arms and whirled around so that they continue face to face, the brown eyes staring at her with intensity, there is sweetness which she recognizes, but sweetness mixed with pure fervor, unspoken passion, red lips tingle with proximity and the two stare at each other without words, just keeping the small details of seconds that feel like eternity. Y/N focuses on the firm grip, fingers caressing her over the fabric of the uniform, always amazed at the tenderness to be found behind the wall of hardness that Nerys builds around herself. Her heart beats faster, almost leaping out of the chest, and she can barely control her breathing, air being stolen from lungs as they are inches apart.

"Rys..." the name pronounced in a whisper breaks the comfortable silence.

The bajoran smiles at hearing her name and wanders a hand up to the other woman's neck, with a gentle touch pulls her to herself and, without warning, their lips meet. It's exploratory, gentle and passionate, leaving a trail of repressed desire and hidden emotions. Suddenly time is suspended, just for them, so surrendered that everything disappears for a single moment. The drunken night, the worries, the momentary pain of being away, the uncertainties and insecurities that haunted them, all dissolve the moment the kiss intensifies. In human terms, everything is thrown out of the window, nothing else matters.

Kira reaches for the girl's waist and pulls her even closer, deepening the kiss, intensifying the touch and shouting how much she wants, no, desperately needs this. She feels in paradise, until her brain demands oxygen and realizes she's very alive.

"So... you're not mad at me?" is the first thing running through Y/N's mind as soon as they separate, mouths brushing lightly "I..."

"Sweetie, I was never mad at you, in fact I was mad at myself, the idea of having loved you in my arms and not even remembering it was too much for me. Shame, anger, maybe sadness." the brunette confesses, letting a bundle of vulnerability shine through "And fear. Fear that you don't reciprocate my deepest feelings or are just looking for fun."

"Sometimes you can be really blind, Rys. Everyone knows that I'm hopelessly and madly in love with you."

This leaves Nerys speechless, stunned, ecstatic, joy crossing every neuron and fiber of her being at the revelation. She can't find the words, doesn't need to. In the next second, their lips are together again in an eloquent kiss full of everything they can't say, the kind that are enough when there are no beautiful words to explain the most intense things. However, this lasts less than the one before, because they separate when the klingons heavy footsteps are heard walking towards them.

"Well, Lieutenant, in my quarters after shift?"

"First date?"

"Of course!"

Yes, I'm back… with new obsessions.

#kira nerys x reader #kira nerys #star trek #star trek deep space nine #ds9 #fanfiction #imagine #one shot #star trek x reader

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sshbpodcast · 7 months ago

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Character Spotlight: Garak

By Ames

No one here but us plain, simple tailors this week on A Star to Steer Her By. We’re finally scrutinizing fan-favorite recurring character Garak, who’s definitely more complex and nuanced than even some main characters we’ve discussed before. As we assembled our classic Best and Worst Moments lists, we found that Garak has the most moments that somehow end up in both. That’s how morally (and physically) grey this guy is.

So let’s get our measurements taken as we spotlight DS9’s resident Cardassian spy, played so stunningly by Andrew Robinson (have you read his book yet? It’s amazing). Scroll on below or decode some ciphers with us on this week’s podcast discussion (jump over to 48:23). Of all the moments we’re spotlighting, which are the best and which are the worst? My dear reader, they’re all best moments. Even the worst moments? Especially the worst moments.

[Images © CBS/Paramount]

Best moments

Let us haggle Our very first introduction to Garak in “Past Prologue” sets him up as mysterious, sneaky, and downright sassy. It’s always nebulous just how far his covert information extends versus how much he’s ever just toying with Julian, but in this early episode, he helps the doctor uncover some shady dealings that the Bajoran terrorist Tahna Los has been engaging in. And it’s delightful.

Schemes within schemes Garak and Bashir team up again in the season two “Cardassians,” in which Garak sees through decades’ worth of Cardassian scheming (the best kind of scheming) to expose Dukat’s war orphan plot. The details are convoluted and Rube Goldbergy, but the tailor puts together all the pieces and concludes that Dukat is looking to undermine Gul Pa'Dar, some-freakin’-how.

Personally, I find this style a bit too radical Listening to Garak’s smoothtalking is always extra fun because he’s always saying more than is just on the surface. Even when he doesn’t have to! In his own way, he warns Quark that Natima Lang is in danger in “Profit and Loss.” By the end of the episode, he goes so far as to shoot Toran, saving Quark’s lady love and her students before they go “out of fashion.”

My best friend, Elim The first episode to appear on both lists is “The Wire” because it’s just so Garak. While he never tells Bashir the truth once, he’s at his most vulnerable when he’s telling his various Elim stories. In his own Cardassian way, he connects with his dear doctor and expresses things about himself that, though not empirically true, are him at his most real. And the shippers rejoice.

Major, I don’t think I’ve ever seen you looking so ravishing We give Major Kira major props for her role in the stunning “Second Skin,” but Garak plays a large part as well. When Kira and Ghemor’s backs are up against the wall, Garak comes through for the DS9 crew. And like when he killed Toran in “Profit and Loss,” he’s able to put his Cardassian patriotism aside to kill the hell out of Entek and quip about it at the same time.

The spy who loved me It’s no wonder people ship Bashir and Garak so much when there are episodes like “Our Man Bashir” to fan the fires. And when things go awry in the holodeck, Garak is able to quip his way through the Bond-style holoprogram that they find themselves trapped in, all the while mocking what Julian seems to think the spy world is actually like. And he pulls off a tux pretty well too!

Excuse me, my dungeon awaits So many times that Garak saved the day have seemed to just be convenient for the character, but he’s especially heroic in “By Inferno’s Light.” He fights through his fears to go into the claustrophobia closet in the Jem’Hadar prison and remote into the waiting shuttle. Without Garak doing what needed to be done, surely the Jem’Hadar would have killed them all.

I promise you I will come back While the relationship between Garak and Ziyal always seemed kind of one-sided to us, we must admit that it was good for both characters to have someone whom they could relate to on the station. We see between “In Purgatory’s Shadow” and “By Inferno’s Light” that they care about each other, though sadly Garak never understands why before her untimely death.

A very messy, very bloody business Another episode that belongs on both lists is “In the Pale Moonlight.” We already gave Sisko some guff for this one, so let’s start off by being impressed by the layers of Cardassian scheming Garak does. Sure, it’s unethical and kind of monstrous, but it’s also a thing of beauty watching all the pieces of Garak’s plan come together to trick the Romulans into getting into the war. Not only can he live with it, but he sleeps like a baby.

Alan Turing, eat your heart out Garak uses some of his Obsidian Order talents to do some code breaking for the Federation in “Afterimage.” His arc in the final season of DS9 is a hell of a journey because he knows the work he’s doing for Sisko and crew will hurt the Cardassia he loves, but he also knows it’ll be for the best in the end to rid the quadrant of the Dominion so they can start rebuilding.

We might have a revolution on our hands Speaking of the Cardassia that Garak loves, he joins Damar and Kira’s little resistance in “The Dogs of War” and goes down to the planet to incite a revolution against the Dominion. When even Damar has opened his eyes to the atrocities the Founders are commiting in the Alpha Quadrant, then you know that it’s got to be something worth fighting for.

The last Weyoun In the siege of Cardassia Prime in “What You Leave Behind,” Garak gets to be the one to shoot Weyoun 8 after the two chirp at each other first. Turns out this is the last of the Weyoun clones, which Garak has firmly put to rest as the Federation ousts the Dominion forces from Cardassia. Garak’s story finally complete, his exile has ended in time to return to the ashes.

—

Worst moments

Nothing to look forward to but having lunch with you We’ll also see later in the series that Garak isn’t one to prioritize his mental health, so his abuse of his feel-good wire in the titular “The Wire” portrays how bad he is at taking care of himself or getting help when he is at his lowest points. When he attacks his friend and doctor when he’s going through withdrawal, you just wanna see him get better because this isn’t healthy, Garak.

Initiating counterinsurgency program level four Though Garak apparently has access codes that no doubt Sisko revoked after “Civil Defense,” he still utterly fails to stop the station’s counterinsurgency program from locking out the Starfleet personnel. In fact, per the “Attention Bajoran Workers” protocol, he’s made things that much worse by insisting they have to shut down life support only for a laser ball to replicate in Ops.

You can’t waterboard a goo It’s hardest for us to forgive Garak from ruthlessly torturing Odo in “The Die Is Cast” just to get back in the good graces of Daddy Tain… but we’ll probably do so anyway. We see just what Garak is capable of with these glimpses into his Obsidian Order past. We can absolutely easily picture how he could torment someone with just his unblinking stare. His eyes. HIS EYES!

But have you considered… murder? I may have found it adorable for Garak and Bashir to play spies in “Our Man Bashir,” but he has no idea how holoprograms work. Garak is so fast to jump to the conclusion that they kill everyone that it leaves one’s head spinning. This isn’t real-life spying, Garak. This is Julian’s sexy adventure, so of course the answer is seduction, not murder, and you should’ve known that.

Is this a date or an assassination? Ziyal is looking for company and invites Garak to sunbathe on rocks like the lizards they are… and Garak spends the whole of “For the Cause” caught up in highschool drama of what Ziyal’s inventions are. Does she like him or LIKE him? Or does she just want to lure him in to present his head to her father later? It’s all below Garak, frankly, when he could just, I dunno, talk to her.

Something swift and painless and preferably bloodless I gave Quark most of the stink for this one, but I can’t let Garak off the hook either. It’s a complete missed opportunity for “Body Parts” to necessitate Quark asking Garak to assassinate him when instead he could have enrolled Garak into some even more nefarious scheme. Garak himself should have suggested faking Quark’s death and it would have been excellent.

They’re dead. You’re dead. Cardassia is dead. I always found Garak’s plan in “Broken Link” to be tenuous at best and contrived at worst. He tags along to the Gamma Quadrant for seemingly no reason, then it turns out he wants to ask the Founders if any of the Cardassians from “The Die Is Cast” are still alive (a possibility never alluded to before), then he straight up tries to destroy the Founders’ planet until Worf beats him into submission. Huh?

It looks like I’ve captured your last piece, Chief The pretty decent horror episode “Empok Nor” has got a lot going for it, but every single time they made the kotra metaphor more and more blatant, I started checking out. Dear writers, your metaphor stood on its own without you announcing it twenty-five times. Have a little confidence that your themes are working because it was a good one… until it wasn’t.

Do you feel lucky? Do ya, Chief? But that is far from the worst thing Garak does in “Empok Nor.” The psychotropic drug is mostly at fault here, but that doesn’t mean Garak feels completely innocent. He straight up murders the Cardassian sleeper guards AND crewman Amaro in cold blood, and then kidnaps and threatens Nog so he can get at the Chief, taunting him like a serial killer the whole time.

Star-crossed lizards The sweet friendship Garak strikes up with Ziyal belongs on our good list for sure, but frankly the romance between them never quite gelled for us. We see in “Call to Arms” that they kiss goodbye when she flees the station before the Dominion swoops in, and it just feels… unearned? Garak admits in “Sacrifice of Angels” that he doesn’t know what that was all about, and neither do we.

When the devil asks you to dance, you say yes I may have marveled at Garak’s precarious plan in “In the Pale Moonlight,” but that doesn’t mean I condone any of it. Even the writers make it clear in Sisko’s actions that he finds it reprehensible how many casualties there were to pull it off: the cold-blooded murder of Vreenak (and his innocent guards!), the assassination of Grathon Tolar, the deaths of literally all of Garak’s contacts. This one’s on Sisko’s list too of course, but he at least knows it’s wrong.

You’re not worthy of the name Dax One final episode that’s on both lists. Classic Garak, playing both sides. In this case, it’s more evidence that Garak does not seem to value his mental health because, when he’s suffering panic attacks and more claustrophobia in “Afterimage,” the first thing he does is lash out at his therapist, Ezri Dax, who certainly doesn’t deserve it! The poor thing.

—

Well I hope we got in some cutting remarks about the good tailor of Deep Space Nine. Next week we’ve got another frequent guest star of the station to spotlight: Keiko O’Brien! Stay tuned for that while also tuning in every week as we venture through Enterprise over on SoundCloud or wherever you podcast. You can also quip with us over on Facebook and Twitter, and remember: the truth is usually just an excuse for a lack of imagination.

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thats-it-im-fallingdown · 2 years ago

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Something I’ve wondered about for a while is why data and odo both strived to be human specifically.

Actually, I get it for data. His creator was human. But Odo??? It makes more sense for him to feel closer to Bajorans than humans.

The boring answer to this is that the writers weren’t perfect, and humans become the default despite existing in a galaxy full of many interesting and intelligent species. But it’s still an interesting concept to think about! Odo the almost Bajoran. (I’m not a huge fanfic reader, buuuuut if anyone knows a fic that explores this, let me know)

#Star Trek #star trek tng #star trek ds9 #ds9 #deep space 9 #deep space nine #constable odo #data #lieutenant commander data #bajoran #bajor #star trek the next generation #text #my posts

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starfleetimagines · 2 years ago

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I love your writing so much! Best of luck with your new program!

Could I request a Kira Nerys x gender neutral reader - Nerys comforting you after a nightmare?

Aaaa thank you!! <3

Kira Nerys - Safe In Your Arms

Length: Drabble (under 500) Warnings: Nightmare (nothing specified) Tag list: @space-helen @mrs-l-mccoy @plaguedoctorsnake @coffee-in-that-nebula

Your heart hammers in your chest as you snap your eyes open. Taking in a ragged breath, you stare up at the dark ceiling, memories of the dream at the forefront of your mind.

Just a dream, you try to tell yourself, but your heart won't stop slamming against your ribs. You shift and move closer to your partner. You don't want to wake her, but you need to feel her next to you; need to know she's there with you.

You wedge yourself against her back and hook an arm over her torso, holding her close to you. You nuzzle your face against the base of her neck and inhale slowly, breathing in her scent.

Nerys makes a soft noise and shifts a little. "Is it 0600 already?" her tired voice mumbles.

"No," you reply quietly, your own voice muffled by the collar of her night shirt. "Go back to sleep."

But Nerys moves and rolls onto her back. Even in the dark, you know she's frowning at you. "You okay?" she asks softly.

You lean your cheek against her shoulder and nod. "Yeah," you say, but your voice cracks.

Nerys sighs quietly and turns onto her side to face you fully. She moves her arms around you and pulls you flush against her. "Bad dream?" she guesses, and you nod.

"Want to talk about it?"

You shake your head and hug her tightly. "The usual. It's okay."

She slowly rubs your back and kisses the top of your head. "I got you. You're okay, I'm okay. We're both safe, okay?"

Nodding a little, you try to believe her. You know that she's telling the truth, but your anxiety is still so high.

She starts to quietly hum a Bajoran lullaby she's sung to you before. You take in a deep breath, focusing your senses on her: on her soft, melodic humming; her warm body against yours; her strong arms around you; her sweet scent filling your nose.

She's there, you're there, and you're both safe.

#kira nerys x reader #kira nerys fanfiction #star trek fanfiction #star trek x reader #star trek reader insert #star trek ds9 fanfiction #star trek imagines

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jusvibbbin · 2 years ago

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Confession Confusion

Kira Nerys x Reader

//I know I’m hecka slow but better late than never! I’m trying to finish a couple requests and then add some new stories/chapters for all to read :) missed writing on here a ton! enjoy~

On an early afternoon, on a space station far into the galaxy, Kira Nerys sat on the promenade, unaware she was occupying someone else’s mind. Said mind was the property of a nervous lieutenant, who took a quick breath and began to head in the Major’s direction.

But before they could make it even halfway there, an unassuming doctor took the seat across from Kira, stopping them in their tracks. As the two friends started conversing, they turned and headed towards their station, though it was half an hour before their shift was supposed to start.

Unbeknownst to them however, the local Trill was watching the whole thing.

After your shift ended, you headed to Quark’s, hoping to drown your sorrows at the bottom of a glass of synthehol. You sat at the bar, and waved towards Rom to order. Though you swiftly straightened up in your seat as Lieutenant Dax, your supervisor, took the empty seat next to you.

“Good evening, sir.”

“Please (Y/N), we’re off duty. Call me Jadzia.” She smiled as she said this and it immediately put your mind at ease as you relaxed your posture.

“What’ll it be?”

You both looked over to see Rom impatiently waiting for your order.

Before you could answer, Jadzia had ordered you three raktajinos.

“You’re gonna have two? Isn’t it kinda late for that?” You quipped with a smirk. She smirked right back and shook her head.

“No, I won’t be having two. I just figured the Major would enjoy one after a long day.”

Your stomach flew up into your throat and you choked on your spit for a moment. Jadzia chuckled and gently hit your shoulder.

“Here,” Rom said as he set your drinks down. He held his hand out for payment but Dax just waved him away.

“W-Why would the Major be joining us?” You wanted to ask her why she had even joined you, but decided against it.

“Because,” Jadzia began as she turned towards the door. “Matchmaking is fun. Hey Kira!”

Your face was hotter than the Bajoran Sun.

“Ugh what a day!” The major sat on the other side of Dax as she passed her the third drink. She took a quick sip before her eyes landed on you.

“Lieutenant (L/N), right?”

She knew your name. You might die then and there.

“Yeah it is. Nice to meet you, Major.” You smiled, trying not to look nervous.

Kira tilted her drink in your direction and you both gulped some down.

For the next ten minutes, Kira, Dax and yourself talked about your day and the frustrations of working on that old, rust-bucket of a station. Just as you had started to relax, Dax announced she was going to bed.

“I’m sure you’ll be wanting to head that way as well,” you said to Kira after Jadzia had gone. Surprisingly she shook her head.

“No, I could go for another drink honestly. Got the late shift tomorrow.” She grinned and ordered a Bajoran ale, then moved into the seat directly next to you.

“Truth be told,” you began, “I’m happy we have the chance to get to know each other better.” Kira gave you a sly smile.

“Oh really? And why is that?”

You felt the heat rise to your face once again but as you opened your mouth to answer, Rom tripped behind the bar and spilled whatever soup Morn was hoping to enjoy all over Kira’s uniform. She gasped and shot out of her seat, her fiery eyes fixed on Rom, who immediately dropped to his knees, ‘a thousand apologies’ cascading from his lips. Quark rushed over and began apologizing as well and offering anything he could think of to calm the Major down. She simply huffed once and unclenched her fists.

“Well sorry to run but…” She gestured to her clothes. You shook your head understandingly, bid her a goodnight and watched another opportunity evaporate before your eyes.

Two days later, you were enjoying a game of racquetball with a friend. Coming off a stellar win, you walked through the promenade to get back to your room. You were sweaty, tired and barely paying attention as you smacked straight into Major Kira. You reached out quickly and caught her arms before she fell over.

“Oh gosh, I’m so sorry. Are you alright?” She blinked at you a few times and you suddenly realized you were holding onto her. You let go and you noticed the blush creeping up Kira’s face.

“No worries. I wasn’t watching where I was going.” She paused and looked you up and down. “Why are you so sweaty?”

You screamed internally for being so gross at the moment.

“Racquetball. Lots of swinging.” You awkwardly demonstrated your backhand and she chuckled at you.

“Major Kira to Ops,” the station-wide intercom boomed from above.

“Duty calls!”

And with that, Kira rushed towards the main turbolift as you headed to your quarters.

Your birthday was quite the to-do for the science department. They had booked out Quark’s and replicated a custom cake. You were thankful to have so many friends onboard and greatly enjoyed the festivities. Someone from deck twelve had even managed to import some vodka from Earth and the punch was spiked instantly.

Being very drunk, dancing seemed like the best idea and most everyone agreed. As the music thrummed throughout the bar, you danced your way around the room. Seeing your friends having a good time and enjoying the cake made your heart full.

You eventually moved to sit at a table on the second floor, needing a bit of a break from all the energy, and someone sat across from you.

“Can I buy you a birthday drink?”

You lazily looked over to see none other than the Major sitting across from you. She had draped her jacket on the back of her chair and looked quite comfortable as she leaned back. Your confidence peaked in your drunk state as you leaned forward and rested your head in your hand.

“How could I say no to Major Kira Nerys,” you said, with a sultry and slight slur. She scoffed and lightly kicked your foot under the table. You laughed and kicked her back. After a short footsie session and several flirtatious looks, the two of you had fallen into an easy silence.

“So, I was wondering,” you began as Kira looked over at you. “Are you seeing any-”

Suddenly your stomach twisted into about a hundred knots. You stood quickly, maybe too quickly, and rushed towards the nearest restroom. You could hear Kira calling after you, concerned, but you ignored her as you shut and sealed the bathroom door behind you. Barely making it to the toilet, you spewed your guts violently. That last drink you had really done you in. By the time you were finished, a few of your friends were waiting outside the door to take you home and you promptly fell asleep.

For the next few days you avoided the Major at every turn. You were so embarrassed with your behavior, you didn’t know if you would ever recover. Your anxiety had even started to affect your work, and your productivity tanking made you feel worse.

Eventually Dax stepped in and, seeing how stressed you were, gave you a couple days to take some time for yourself. You decided some fresh air would do you good, and found a small village to stay at on Bajor. After finding the small cabin you had rented from a local, you settled in with a book and a cup of tea for the rest of the day.

Waking up early on your second day, you were starting to feel a lot better about what happened. Maybe it wasn’t such a big deal. You didn’t even know if Kira was interested in you to begin with, so how bad could things really be?

You continued to wonder about what was or what could be as you got dressed. The village was quiet since you were up so early and you decided to take a walk through the nearby forest. You grabbed your book and headed through the lightly beaten path into the trees.

You walked for several minutes before finding a small clearing with a large, gnarled tree. You sat with your back against it and got comfortable, then opened your book to try and finish off the last few chapters.

An hour or more had passed and you were still reading, until a shadow fell over your pages. You looked up to see Major Kira standing above you.

“May I sit?”

You nodded, eyes wide with shock at seeing her here. She sat across from you, letting out a small sigh as she stretched out her legs. You marked your page and closed the book, waiting to see what she had to say.

“Look I’ve been wanting to tell you something, but it never seems to be the right time.” She ran a hand through her hair, looking a bit nervous. She dropped it quickly and said, “And please don’t worry about the other night. Happens to the best of us.”

You looked away, thinking of how awkward that had been. Kira gently reached for your hand and you let her take it.

“I really want to spend more time with you. Maybe over dinner in my quarters or…” Kira trailed off as you stared at her.

You let out a small laugh and threw your hands up in the air. Kira looked at you, puzzled.

“Nerys, I have been trying to ask you out for almost a month! And here you are, beating me to it.”

Hearing this, a smile spread across her face and she laughed as well. You pulled her hand to your lips and kissed it lightly, feeling braver after hearing her confession. Nerys moved her hand up to your face and pulled you in for a real kiss.

Tag List: @elen-aranel @ratkingbunting

#star trek #star trek ds9 #kira nerys #kira x reader #kira nerys x reader #request

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crowfootwrites · 1 year ago

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New Arrival [Odo x Fem!Reader]

Ok, y'all. I've done it. I've hyperfixated on Star Trek so hard that I got back to writing fanfiction. 😅 Please go easy on me - upon checking, the last time I wrote/published any fanfic was December of 2021. Is this my best work? Certainly not, lol, but hopefully it's not terrible. This is my first time writing anything in the Star Trek fandom and as of now, I've only watched TNG, First Contact, and I'm working my way through DS9 now. I love it, I love the characters, and I'm hoping the inspiration lasts for a long while! 💕

Odo is, without a doubt, one of my favorite DS9 characters - he's my favorite lil grump and after I watched his interactions with Taya in "Shadowplay", I was inspired to write this!

Warnings: briefly losing your child in a crowd; single parenthood | Words: ~1,850

The station was packed, and you clutched your daughter’s chubby fist tightly in yours as you attempted to navigate the throngs of people streaming through the Promenade. Your heart thudded in your throat, overwhelmed by the sheer number of beings in this new place - mostly Bajorans and humans, you noted, with the occasional unfamiliar creature. The cold, metallic Cardassian architecture soaring overhead did little to ease your nerves, although the lights and colors along the Promenade were a welcome addition.

“Mama,” your daughter exclaimed from beside you, tugging on your fingers and pointing with her other hand towards a shop window displaying a dazzling green dress, aglow with intricate beading and sequins flashing beneath the shop lights.

You nodded down at your daughter with a fond smile, giving her hand a squeeze. “It’s beautiful, Elara,” you murmured. “Perhaps we’ll stop by after we get settled in,” you suggested as you sidestepped hurriedly around a group of Starfleet officers deep in discussion, hauling your daughter out of the way just in time.

It was your first time to Deep Space 9, where you’d recently been transferred by Starfleet, to work with Chief of Operations O’Brien. You’d jumped at the assignment, an opportunity to work with talented officers and, on a more personal level, a way to get you and Elara away from Earth and the memories that still haunted you there.

The few days’ journey to the space station from Earth had been uneventful, and your arrival, as the newest Starfleet crewmember, had seen you met by Chief O’Brien himself, although he’d immediately been called away, leaving you and your daughter to navigate to your new quarters.

You craned your neck slightly, attempting to find the nearest turbolift and extricate you both from the chaos of the Promenade. Sweat beaded along your hairline, the collar of your uniform suddenly suffocating. You took a deep breath and closed your eyes for a moment to gather yourself.

The breath rushed from your lungs as you stumbled backward, a deep ache forming in your shoulder as it collided with someone else’s - a group of rowdy Klingons forcing their way through the Promenade. Throwing your hands out to steady yourself, the cold metal of a support beam biting into your sweating palms, it took you only a moment to realize that both your hands were empty.

You whirled around, panic rising in your chest as your eyes darted back and forth.

“Elara!” you yelled, struggling to be heard above the din. You darted after the group of Klingons, elbowing your way around them and anyone else who managed to get in your way. Your focus sharpened to a singular point: find her.

When you didn’t find her being towed along by the Klingons, your stomach churned, your heart leaping agonizingly into your throat.

You called her name again, the desperation in your voice growing more apparent. Your breath came in short bursts and your head spun as you pivoted again and again, frantically searching.

A pair of steady hands appeared on your shoulders and you gasped as you came face-to-face with a man whose blue eyes reflected your own wild, terrified visage.

“Are you alright, Lieutenant?” he asked, his voice gruff and firm. You managed to shake your head, your eyes still wandering behind him.

“My daughter,” you gasped, teetering on the edge of a panic attack. “We got separated, I -”

Concern passed briefly over the man’s smooth features - too smooth, you realized somewhere in the back of your mind. “How old is she?” he barked, tears springing to your eyes.

“Four,” you managed to whisper, the tremors in your hands traveling to the rest of your body. It was all too much and you began to pull away from the man’s grasp, desperate to continue your search.

Scowling, he tapped his combadge. His other hand grasped your upper arm gently and tugged you close, ensuring you stayed with him.

“Odo to Ops.” The gravel in his voice and the strength of his grasp on your arm permitted no arguments.

“Go ahead.”

“We have a missing child on the Promenade. I want no ships departing this station until she is found,” he ordered. Before anyone could even respond, he had tapped his badge again.

“Odo to security - I want a team on the Promenade now,” he growled. “Fan out. Child is four years old -”

“She’s wearing yellow overalls and a pink sweater. Her name is Elara,” you interjected quickly, trying in vain to calm your breathing.

Odo repeated the information to his team, before he began escorting you down the walkway. You glanced back over your shoulder, opening your mouth to object to leaving the place where you lost Elara.

As though he could read your mind, he spared you a brief glance. “We’ll find her,” he assured you.

He led you into the security office and gestured to the seat across from his at the desk, just as a Bajoran woman with short red hair entered, slightly out of breath.

“Thank you for coming, Major,” he muttered as he rounded the desk once again and headed for the door. “Please stay with the lieutenant.”

“But-” you argued, rising quickly from your chair. The Major corralled you back into your seat, her arms spread wide with palms out, approaching you cautiously, as though you’d bolt at any second.

“Lieutenant, trust me,” the woman asserted, “no one knows this station like Constable Odo. He will find her.”

All at once, everything caught up to you and you dropped unceremoniously into the chair, your head buried in your hands as the tears spilled over. You heard the rustle of fabric as the Major took the seat beside yours, a calming hand passing over your shoulder.

“What a sorry welcome to DS9, huh?” she murmured.

Odo scoured the Promenade, communicating briefly with members of his security team as they passed him. The large number of people gathering on the Promenade today made his job that much more difficult. It reassured him to know that no ships would be departing, but he could hardly fathom the amount of trouble a four-year-old could get into on this station. He frowned and shook his head as he strode swiftly down the corridor, failing once again to understand solids’ preoccupation with procreation. He understood the importance of reproduction for a race of beings, certainly, but human offspring in particular were so… vulnerable for such a long time.

His team had reported back that she hadn’t been found on either the East or West platforms, and his officer on the northern main floor was still checking in and around the shops, airlocks, and turbolifts. That left the southern main floor, the area between his own security office, the Infirmary, and Quark’s Bar. He figured he’d start there - trouble had a way of following Quark wherever he went.

A flash of pink tugged at the corner of Odo’s vision just as he was about to enter Quark’s. He turned to follow it, and there, tucked away into a gap between the jeweler’s shop and a turbolift shaft, he spotted a small human girl cowering, her knees pulled up to her chin. Odo sighed at her tear-streaked face before approaching slowly. She flinched as he drew nearer, so Odo crouched and schooled his facial features into something other than a scowl.

“You must be Elara,” Odo muttered, studying the girl curiously. There weren’t many children this young on the station. Even Chief O’Brien’s young daughter was older than this one. “Your mother’s been worried about you.”

At the mention of her mother, Elara’s eyes darted to Odo’s, looking for reassurance. He gave her a small smile.

“My name is Odo,” he offered, stretching a hand towards her, palm up. “It’s my job to make sure everyone is safe on the station.”

Elara’s lower lip trembled as she surveyed Odo cautiously, and Odo found himself appreciating her skepticism. That seemed good for a solid child.

“I couldn’t find her,” Elara whispered, her mouth tucked behind her knees as she curled in on herself. “There were too many people.”

Odo nodded solemnly, letting his hand return to its place on his knee. “The Promenade is very busy today.” He stood and offered his hand again. “Your mother is waiting for you in my office… would you like me to take you to her?”

Elara seemed to consider this for a moment and Odo hid a smile. Finally, she nodded and placed a small hand in his as she rose from the floor. The sensation was a strange one for Odo - he was not used to much human contact and he’d certainly never held the hand of this small a child. There was something pleasant, he found, about the way her tiny fingers wrapped around his… something rewarding.

He tapped his combadge quickly to inform Ops and security that the child had been found. As he guided the child back toward his office, he felt a soft tug on his hand; he glanced down to find Elara staring up at him, her big eyes clear and curious. “Thank you for finding me,” she said before returning her gaze to the stretch of walkway before them.

“Of course,” he muttered, his usual, unamused expression sliding back into place as they approached the entrance to the security office.

You were out of your seat before the security doors had opened fully, your heart stuttering in your chest. Relief poured out of you as your daughter flew from Odo’s grasp and into your arms.

You clutched her tight to your chest, her arms and legs wrapped firmly around you as you whispered apologies and reassurances into her hair. With a kiss to the top of her head, you glanced up at Odo, tears still trembling on the waterline of your eyes.

“Thank you, Odo,” you croaked. “I- I’m so sorry about all this - this has never happened before.”

Odo looked uncomfortable for a moment, unused to being thanked for simply doing his job, but the expression passed and he nodded sincerely.

“These things happen, Lieutenant.” His gruff voice brought you a sudden sense of comfort; he had followed through on his promise to find her. You could tell he was a serious man who took his job just as seriously and though you’d been on the station for less than two hours, you’d already come to appreciate that. You allowed yourself a moment to study Odo as you placed your daughter back on her feet.

His gaze slid away from yours, uncomfortable again, and you smiled softly. “The station must be pretty safe with you in charge,” you offered.

Odo cleared his throat, glancing between you and your daughter. “I do what I can.” After a short pause in which you noticed Major Kira glancing between you and Odo with a half-smile and raised eyebrow, you shifted awkwardly and Odo spoke again. “I’ll escort you to your quarters so that you can get settled in,” he grumbled, and you bit back a smile as you followed him back out of the security office towards your new home.

#constable odo #star trek odo #odo ds9 #odo x reader #odo x fem!reader #star trek deep space 9 #st ds9 #star trek ds9 #star trek fanfiction #deep space nine fanfiction

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warpfive · 2 years ago

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okay maybe one more. jadzia dax + moments that make them soft for you, please !

CW: gn!reader, drunk reader, jadzia with a broken foot

jadzia enjoys fun and freedom and individuality - especially if she’s dragging another person along with her. she’s seen and learned and experienced a lot in all her lifetimes, and if you allow her to show you a good time, that’s a surefire way to get jadzia to have a little heart-eyes. a lot of people tend to underestimate her - a young federation science officer with a cute smile and a wild look in her eye, but she really does know how to live life to the fullest. and she’d want to share this life with you, even if it means racing across the promenade to catch a glimpse of a rare ship she hasn’t seen in about a hundred years.

what’s that? jadzia hasn’t been out of the science lab in almost twelve hours? disappointed, but not surprised. jadzia doesn’t even realize it until you come in and tell her that she looks like hell. she laughs, you’re serious, she goes on about her experiments, and you insist that she needs a break. apparently, jadzia can’t leave the experiment alone for more than an hour because she needs to record its progress, so you’re able to convince her to get a quick meal on the promenade together. she’s inhaling her food, not realizing just hot hungry she’d been. jadzia rambling off about her findings, and when she finally glances up when you ask a question, she notices you’ve been watching her softly and listening. after that meal, time seems to drag on more than it had before - mostly she’s just thinking about how tired she is, and how much she wants slip into bed with you

pain throbbed up and down her leg, it was impossible to tell where the injury was located. you’re speaking to her calmly - something about a fracture and a broken bone in her foot, but jadzia was barely listening. the pain puts her on edge, and she orders you, through gritted teeth, to leave her behind and continue on. of course, you tell her no. jadzia’s always had a penchant for brash independence and that was something you admired about her - but right now, she was only hurting herself. when you yank her up on her good foot, making her lean all her weight against you, she wants more than nothing to be angry at your disobedience. but it’s hard to be mad when you insist on saving her - and jadzia knows if she were in your position, she would do the same. it doesn’t mean she has to be happy about it….

parties were always a blast! sure, sometimes bajoran parties aren’t as fun or lively as jadzia prefers, but a party is still a party. especially when the day winds down and the senior staff collects into captain sisko’s quarters for one last round of drinks to end the night on. a perk of working on deep space nine is having access to real alcohol - not the synthetic stuff they have to serve on starships and starbases. though, you weren’t quite used to the real stuff, and jadzia ends up having to half-carry you back to your quarters. it’s good to see you let loose for once - face flushed, smile lazy, hands wandering. you tell her you love her, she says she knows, but you keep saying it. really wanting her to know and by the time you both reach your quarters, jadzia doesn’t want to leave you. the pair of you talk for a while before you eventually pass out with your cheek against her shoulder - and for a few brief hours, the galaxy was good and safe and warm. at least until you started snoring.

#star trek x reader #star trek headcanons #star trek ds9 x reader #jadzia dax x reader

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unknownfacelessfanfictions · 2 years ago

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Immortalised on skin

Fandom: Star Trek Deep Space Nine Pairing: Julian Bashir x gn!Bajoran!Reader Words: 3.1K Warnings: A bit of blood, I guess? Prompt: Soulmate AU where when you write something on your skin it appears on the skin of your soulmate. And while Partner A is an artist and decorates their arms with beautiful ornaments, Partner B always scribbles down things to not forget them in the most unreadable font A has ever seen. A/N: I wrote most of the chapter while being sick af, so I apologise in case that it's garbage

!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!NOT MY GIF!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

A dreamy smile spread across Julian's face as his gaze fell on his forearm. Apparently they had lain awake late again tonight or were bored, because now his entire arm was decorated with elaborate flower ornaments in ballpoint pen. Slowly he traced the lines, one after the other, and with each curve, with each flourish, his smile grew a little wider. Ever since he had woken up on his sixteenth birthday and caught sight of those elaborate lines for the first time, he had been blown away.

Because, to be honest, Julian had firmly believed that he had no soulmate. The soulmate, in his opinion, would not have been his. This was Jules' soul mate. And Jules was no longer alive. Not since he had been brutally dismembered and murdered and replaced by Julian. Even now, when Julian was sure that he had a soulmate, he was still overcome by doubts from time to time. That morning, however, Julian didn't really have time to worry about it.

Though he continued to gaze at the lines tenderly until his arms disappeared into the sleeves of his uniform and continued to feel a warm tingling throughout, his thoughts quickly turned to his work when he was met by an upset Nurse Kabo. Apparently, a freighter that had arrived the day before had not followed the prescribed hygiene regulations and before Odo could expel the freighter, an Andorian flu had spread. Since people on Earth were vaccinated against it from infancy, the number of humans who came in for treatment could be counted on one hand. Unfortunately, the same could not be said for the rest of the station.

Julian did not have a quiet minute until lunch. Again and again a new patient came in, to whom he could give nothing more than a hypospray and a prescription for a few days of bed rest. He should not be misunderstood, he loved his job. This was exactly what he had longed for after leaving the academy. However, after he and Nurse Kabo had treated one patient after the other with the same illness for five hours without stopping, he was about to ask Captain Sisko for permission to simply supply the entire station with the medicine through the air supply. At least this would be a lot quicker. And even if he surpassed "normal" humans in some things due to his genetic enhancement, he was still exhausted as he dropped into the chair with Garak.

"You look quite exhausted Doctor," Garak smiled, tilting his head slightly. "I take it that it has been a busy day?" Julian snorted and stabbed his fork into the piece of meat on his plate. "The day is only half over and I'd love to strangle the captain of this freighter right now." "Now, now Doctor," Garak returned indignantly, but Julian could see his amusement in his eyes. "As Doctor, aren't you supposed to make sure the patients are all right." "He's not a patient yet," Julian retorted grimly. Apparently Garak thought it best to change the subject, for he pointed to the Doctor's forearm, which had become visible through his rolled-up sleeves. "I see you have discovered your artistic streak Doctor."

Instantly Julian's temper calmed. "No, not me." "Ah." Garak's face reflected his manner of understanding. "Then I can assume this is the work of your soul mate." Julian nodded. "I have no idea who they are, but since I was sixteen I've been receiving these little works of art every day. I'll be honest, over time they've started to have a calming effect on me." Garak's eyes sparkled. "Then I really really hope you're receiving new drawings right now when you get in touch with the freighter captain." Julian smiled grimly. "It would be better for him."

Garak started to say something further, but he was interrupted by the beeping of Julian's badge. "Sickbay to Doctor Bashir." Julian closed his eyes for a brief moment before replying. "Bashir here." "Sir, a Bajoran transporter has just docked. It was attacked by Dominion ships and there were several wounded." "I'm on my way." Julian gave Garak an apologetic look, but he waved it off. "Oh, don't worry about me. I quite understand that your job takes priority." Julian nodded his thanks before rising and making his way towards sickbay.

~**~

Y/N hissed briefly as Captain Anyon's fingers dug into their forearm and thus into their open wound. However, they gritted their teeth and lifted the unconscious woman onto the table that the nurse had indicated to them. The nurse, however, seemed to have noticed their grimace, because she turned to them and eyed them with a raised eyebrow. "Are you all right?" Y/N nodded curtly, then gestured with their unwounded arm towards the sickbay door that led out onto the promenade deck. "I'll get the others." The nurse only nodded absently, having already attended to Captain Anyon. Y/N used this brief moment to take one deep breath. The pain was getting hotter and their arm was beginning to throb. Despite this, they turned around but bumped into a young man in the doorway outside.

"Oh, I'm sorry. I didn't see you. I was in such a hurry that-" "It's all right," they choked him off quickly, giving him a pained smile. "No harm done." "Are you sure? After all, I-" "Doctor," they interrupted again. At least they assumed from his uniform that he was a doctor, even though he seemed quite young. "I'm sorry to interrupt you again, but I have to get the other injured people out of the transporter. And from the looks of it, you have work to do." The young man stared at her from widened eyes. "Of course. I forgot. Excuse me." He rushed into sickbay and Y/N, shaking their head, made their way back to their transporter to get more patients out.

On their way to the docking bay, other crew members and security officers met them carrying wounded people in their arms to sickbay and they felt sick. However, when they arrived at their transporter, they found that all the wounded had already been carried out. Y/N asked if they could go on board to secure some things, but the security officer refused access. Apparently it was too dangerous to board at the moment and they would have to wait until the Chief gave his okay.

Frustrated, they turned around only to come face to face with the security chief. "Odo." A wide smile spread across their face as they saw their old friend. They had met him a few years ago when he had saved them from execution on the station under occupation. Odo nodded at her and the corners of his mouth twitched slightly what with him was like a bright smile with a welcoming hug. "Y/N." He lowered his voice slightly and leaned forward slightly. "Are you alright? Were you hurt?" They had to suppress a smirk. It was so typical of Odo not to let on his concern for the feelings or needs of others.

"Everything's great. A few minor scratches, but I' ll be fine." "You're bleeding." He pointed to their arm. Y/N stifled a grimace. Apparently the cut had been a little bigger than she'd thought after all. "That's Anyon's blood," they lied. They could see from Odo's face that he didn't believe them. "Is it?" Odo straightened up. "Then you won't have a problem with it." Before they could ask what exactly he meant, his hand shot forward and squeezed their forearm, eliciting a low whimper and a string of Bajoran swear words that their mother would have washed their mouths out with soap for. " Bloody hell, Odo!"

The latter, however, only pulled his arm back enough to grab them by the elbow. "Hey!" Odo just sighed out grumbling. "Come on now. You need to be treated."

"There are dozens of other people in sickbay who need treatment more urgently than I do." Odo pulled them behind him into the lift. "Promenade deck." He turned to them. "That doesn't mean you have to suffer. Knowing our Chief Medical Officer Doctor Bashir, I'm sure he's finished with half of them by now. If need be, you just wait there." Y/N frowned. "Who is Doctor Bashir?"

Before Odo could answer, however, they knew. Before the Federation had come, there had been no Chief Medical Officer. And Y/N had frequently been in sickbay after the occupation and had met all the staff, apart from the Chief Medical Officer. Therefore, this Bashir had to be the young man she had run over and snapped at this morning.

"He's from the Federation. Young, lanky, quite tall, dark hair and a grin on his face forever," Odo grumbled. "You don't seem to like him." "I respect his work," he returned. "However, he is a little too motivated and optimistic for me sometimes." They shrugged and something occurred to them. "You distracted me!" Odo chuckled softly. "I don't know what you're talking about." The lift stopped, the doors slid aside and Odo pulled them with him.

"I hate you," they muttered. They might try to break free and escape, however, they knew that would do no good. Odo would have them back within a few seconds and would then carry them to sickbay. They would not give themselves up to that embarrassment. So they followed him sullenly. "Of course you do." "Now don't get snarky!"

Outside the infirmary they stopped. Surprisingly, Odo seemed to have been right. It seemed a lot quieter and emptier than before. Maybe Doctor Bashir really was good and fast. Or maybe they had just talked to this security officer for longer than they had thought. Odo stepped forward and the doors slid aside. Astonished, they looked at him. "What? Did you think I was just going to leave you here alone so you could get the hell out of here?" He laughed softly. "Forget it."

Resigned, Y/N gave up and followed him inside. There was no one in the infirmary itself. However, when Y/N brought this up and wanted to take the opportunity to escape, but Odo held them back and retorted that they would just have to wait. So they reluctantly settled back in a chair. When Odo pointed out that this was Doctor Bashir's chair, they only crossed their arms and immediately had to stop themselves from wincing. The pain in her wound became more unbearable with each passing minute and by now she was grateful to Odo for bringing her here. Even though she still cursed him for fiddling with her wound.

After twenty minutes of waiting, they slowly lost patience and were about to get up and flee this sickbay when footsteps sounded. Odo straightened up and they also rose. Doctor Bashir came sauntering around the corner, clearly exhausted and they instantly felt a little bad for robbing the poor man of his free time. When he caught sight of Odo, he stopped with a puzzled look on his face and tilted his head. This caused his gaze to fall on them and his eyes widened. Out of understanding or because he recognised them, they didn't know. "Constable. To what do I owe the honour?"

Odo jutted his chin. "Lieutenant Y/l/n was injured during the attack on the transporter, which is why I escorted them here, to make sure they didn't get into any trouble or make a run for it." He gave them one last warning look before nodding in Bashir's direction and leaving the infirmary. As soon as he was out of sight, Bashir turned to them and smiled brightly at them.

" Hello, I guess we've met before, Lieutenant." They nodded curtly. "Seems so Doctor." They paused for a moment. "By the way, I wanted to apologise for being so harsh earlier." Bashir waved it off good-naturedly. "Don't be. I can imagine all too well the pressure they were under. I don't think the last few hours had been particularly easy." They shook their head. "No. They really weren't easy."

"Now then." Bashir gestured to the biobed that made up the centre of the room. "Sit down, please." They complied with his request and settled on the bed while Bashir gathered his medical instruments. "So," he smiled broadly. " What's the trouble?" Slowly they could understand Odo. Nothing and no one seemed to be able to shake Bashir out of his optimism, not even a transporter full of wounded people. Hesitantly they held out their left arm to him. The sleeve was already bleeding through and Bashir paused for a moment. "How did this happen?" "Console exploded and I got hit by one of the pieces." He raised his eyebrow. "And why didn't you come straight to me?" They bit their lower lip. "You had enough on your plate already, and these people needed the treatment more than I did." "Maybe," he admitted, turning to reach for the scissors. "However, that doesn't mean your injury is unimportant. You don't have to suffer." "You and Odo have more in common than you'd like to admit," they murmured quietly. "What was that?" "Nothing."

"Well then," Bashir raised the scissors. "I'm afraid I'll have to cut your sleeve to get at the wound." They just nodded. They were quite convinced that the doctor wouldn't remotely care about their little scribbles. "Get on with it, Doctor." Bashir nodded again before carefully beginning to unravel and remove the fabric. In a few places the fabric had entered the wound and each time Bashir removed them they hissed out in pain. And each time Bashir gave them a look that was both compassionate and apologetic, which they acknowledged every time with a pained smile. As soon as he had removed the last pieces of the fabric, he put the scissors aside and picked up a medical device that resembled a regenerator. "Ready?" They nodded and slowly Bashir ran the device over their arm. Fascinated, they watched him do this and watched as their skin rejoined and closed. Once the process was complete, Bashir put that device aside as well and beamed at them. "See? Good as new." He turned and picked up some cloths. "Just clean the arm and we're done." Only then did they notice that their entire arm was caked with blood and filthy. Their stomach turned at the sight. Bashir didn't seem to mind, however, as he carefully ran his hand over their skin, cleaning off the blood one bit at a time. For whatever reason, his warm hands gave them goosebumps and they had to shake their head to get rid of them.

Bashir looked up. "Are you all right? Did I hurt you?" Hastily they shook their head. "No, no, I'm fine." Bashir eyed them for a moment longer before turning back to his work. Y/N regarded him. Odo had been right. He was tall, lanky and had dark hair. However, he had not mentioned how attractive and downright cute he could be. All at once he faltered, his gaze fixed on her arm. They frowned. "Doctor Bashir? Are you all right?" He didn't answer. His hands began to tremble until he suddenly continued his work faster than before. In no time at all, all the blood had been removed from her arm and the small scribbles were visible again, but interrupted in the place where her wound had been until a moment ago. Y/N looked concernedly over at the doctor. Bashir looked shocked, his eyes were dilated and his mouth hung wide open. "Doctor Bashir?" Slowly they were really starting to worry. They were about to ask a third time when he suddenly whispered softly," I found you." Y/N paused. " I beg your pardon?" He paid no attention to them, but jumped up, spun in a circle and ran his hands through his hair. "I found you!" This time he was louder and even laughed. Slowly they were getting not only worried but scared. "Okay, I have no idea what's going on right now, but maybe I should go-"

"No," Bashir almost shouted, hurrying over to them. "No, please. I can explain, I promise." They hesitated briefly, but then nodded in agreement. Bashir smiled gratefully before he began to roll up the sleeves of his uniform jacket. At first they were confused, but after Bashir silently asked them to look, their breath caught. On his forearm were the same scribbles as on their arm. They were even interrupted in the same place as on theirs. Shocked, they looked up, straight into the doctor's honest, chocolate-brown teddy bear eyes. "You!" was all they could get out. He nodded. "Me." "You're my soulmate?" "Looks like it." His smile was quirky and nervous and it warmed their heart. "So you're the person who's been scrawling something on my arm that no one can read since I was sixteen?" Bashir blushed and nodded sheepishly, scratching the back of his neck. "Doctor. Not very nice handwriting. And certainly not as beautiful as your drawings." Embarrassed, they looked to the side. "Oh come on, they're just old scribbles I drew when I was bored." Carefully, as if afraid of hurting them, he took their hands in his. "And yet they made my day and sometimes even saved it, Lieutenant." They laughed shakily. "Y/N. Just Y/N please. I think formalities are overrated now." He smiled even wider. "Then please call me Julian." "I'd love to."

Slowly Bashir, no, Julian straightened up and held out his hand to them. "I'm done. Would you be up for dinner on the promenade deck, perhaps? Provided I don't bore you." Again he smiled shyly. Laughing, they took his hand and squeezed it perhaps a tiny bit tighter than was necessary. " There' s nothing I'd like better than that." Julian's face brightened, but faltered as they added a small but. Smiling, they pointed down at themselves. "I'd like to change first. My clothes are still filthy and bloody from the 'accident' this morning." Julian immediately nodded overzealously. "But of course, right away. How could I have forgotten, I'm so inattentive today, it's not really like me you know. Normally I'm-" He continued his rambling and Y/N looked at him with a small smile. In the past, they had always imagined what their soulmate might look like. But no matter what their little brain and childish imagination had come up with, it would never come close to reality. Their eyes fell on the security office. Odo stood in front of the door with a furrowed brow, watching Julian drag them behind him. However, when they pointed first to their arm, mimed a pencil , then to their heart and finally to Julian, he seemed to understand. He smiled a fine smile, cast one last stern look in Julian's direction, indicating a later conversation ( which the latter did not notice as he was still busy talking ) and turned to enter his office. Y/N smiled to themselves. They owed their friend a big favour for dragging them into this infirmary.

#doctor julian bashir #doctor bashir #julian bashir #bashir x reader #julian bashir x reader #doctor bashir x reader #oneshot #soulmate au #my works

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strawberrywritersguild · 1 year ago

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♡ The Little Things: Chapter 1 - Medicine & Mild Colds ♡

Pairing: Julian Bashir x gn!reader Word Count: 1983 words Summary: A famous historian gets on board the station, and immediately gets sick. Julian has to figure out how to take care of them and this alien disease, when they can't contact the Trill and their own is on a long mission away.

You play with the ring on your finger, the crude markings rubbing against the pads of your other hand. You're not usually nervous about visiting space stations, and you aren't really now, but the heat emanating from inside you makes you uneasy. You would've liked to delay this visit, but the Bajoran space station is a historic site and it's your duty and passion to document it.

The docking procedures are almost ready, the captain of the ship coming to inform you. You stand up, swaying a bit, but you push through it. This isn't the worst you've ever gone through, nowhere near it in fact.

The doors to the docking bay open, and the sight of the Deep Space 9's senior officers in single file greets you. They're an impressive sight, even though you know one of them is missing. A shame, you'd always liked Dax and her unorthodox ways.

"Professor, welcome to Deep Space 9. We're honoured to have you here." The commander, Benjamin Sisko, greets you. He offers you his hand, which you take with just a slight stutter. You know he knows your hands are too warm for a trill.

"It's an honour to be here, but call me (MC). Loriaz (MC)." You say back, going back to wringing your ring. It's starting to feel increasingly cold.

"Of course, professor. Major Kira and constable Odo will be accompanying you to your quarters, after which I've arranged for a tour of the station for you." Sisko guides you away from the docking bay, towards the nearest turbolift. You nod, feeling a block in your throat.

You sway slightly from side to side. You slow your walk just to try and seem less inebriated. You feel the pretty young man with puppy eyes hover his hand over your shoulder, just before you feel a flash of hot, and then everything goes black.

You collapse suddenly, to the fright of your little convoy. Julian quickly catches you, settling your head in his lap.

"Doctor, what's happened?" Sisko demands, kneeling down besides the two of you. Julian checks your forehead with the back of his hand.

"They're burning up! I'll need to get them to the infirmary immediately." Julian starts lifting you up from under your armpits, struggling for a moment.

"Constable, go with them." Sisko commands, tapping Kira on her shoulder. "Major, you're with me. We have to check that ship before anyone else disembarks."

"Do you need help, doctor?" Odo asks as Sisko and Kira jog towards the ship. Julian answers by picking you up into his arms and leading the way.

Julian's checking every damn device they have in the infirmary, trying to figure what's wrong with you. All he's really gotten is that you have a high fever. There's really no records of trill illnesses in the federation databases, especially on board this station.

"What have you got, doctor?" Sisko asks as he steps inside, walking to stand by your bed.

"Nothing much, I'm afraid trill are a bit of a medical mystery to us. Without Dax here, I don't really know what to do." Julian explains, giving you a dose of anesthesia after a few pained sounds escape your chest.

"I'll see if I can contact the trill about this, they ought to want their precious professor in good health." Sisko says, nodding before departing the infirmary. Julian nods back, even though he knows Sisko can no longer see him.

Julian sets his hand on your forehead, initially just to check the temperature, but feeling the soft skin under his fingers he can't help but caress it.

"Soft…" he mutters, feeling the soft locks delicately resting on your head. Your head shifts closer to his hand, probably because it's much cooler than anything else near you. But Julian can't help but think that you're searching for comfort, amid whatever you're going through. "Don't worry." He whispers. "I'll make you better."

"What do you mean you can't send a subspace message to Trill?" Sisko asks, almost demands, one of their officers.

"I'm sorry, sir, but there's some space distortion that's preventing any long distance communication right now. We can't contact anyone until it's gone." She explains, frantically trying to find some way to get something through.

"Well then find a way, or we might have a dead trill on our hands!" Sisko insists, scaring half the ops station. He regrets his tone immediately. "Apologies."

"I'll see what I can do, sir, but I make no promises. It'll likely take at least a day until we can send subspace messages."

"That'll do." Sisko says, leaving for his own office. The officer sighs, going back to her screens. Superior officers, am I right?

"Home… Pixie…" Julian swivels in his chair, hearing soft mutterings from his newest patient. He quickly springs up, figuring that you've woken up. But to his surprise, you seem to just be talking in your sleep.

"Pixie?" He questions, leaning closer. Maybe you'd give some hints to what's happening to you?

"Pixie… Must get… Pixie…" you continue muttering, your words becoming incomprehensible.

"Get where?"

"Not… home… Must be…" You take a deep breath, and fall into a deep sleep once again. Julian shakes your shoulder a bit, but that all seems to have taken the last of your energy.

Julian stands straight, heading over to his computers. "What's Pixie, and where does it need to get to?" he mutters, opening the file the station had gotten on you prior to your arrival. One of the last things that had gotten through the space distortion.

Searching for Pixie through the file gets him nothing, nor does anything relevant come up with a general search. Julian's about ready to start going through all the irrelevant files when the computer sorts out for just a moment.

Julian hits the communicator on his chest immediately. "Bashir to ops, what's happening?"

"The space distortion just cut of all the communications. We can no longer contact anyone, nor can anyone contact us."

"Damn." Julian curses, looking behind him at the patient's bed. He's not certain how long you can last without any outside help. The lights shut off.

"The space distortion is going to intercept with the station in just a few minutes, and we can't predict which parts of the ship they'll shut off." O'Brien explains, gesturing to the screen with predictions of the space distortion's movements. Sisko gives a deep sigh, massaging his forehead. He can already feel the headache forming from this.

"Just, try to make sure none of the life support systems fail. Too badly at least."

"That's all we can hope for, at this point." Kira says, leaning against the command console. The lights flicker, and everyone gives a deep sigh of worry.

Julian's giving a new injection of anesthesia to you, everything around him still dark. At the moment, all he can hope that nobody will be in need of actual surgery anytime soon. He wasn't sure he could do much of anything right now besides patch up some wounds.

"Mmn… Rain…" you start muttering again, Julian petting your head to calm you down. You'd been coming in and out of deep sleep every once in a while. He doesn't really know why, or what to do about it. All he really knows is that it's not a sign of you going worse, and that physical contact makes you stop.

"Wonder what it is that you're dreaming of." Julian whispers. He'd not gotten an actual change to talk to you, but taking care of you like this, it made him more fascinated than he'd been with anyone since, well… since he could remember.

"Pretty…" your eyes open the slightest, focusing blearily onto the good doctor. Julian blushes, even though he's pretty certain you're not referring to him. Then, your eyes snap open and you start gagging violently.

"Nurse! Get me a pulmonary scanner, stat!" Julian shouts, trying to get you to a better position for breathing. It's not working particularly well.

"Doctor, none of the scanning equipment is working!" A nurse shouts back, earning a curse from Julian.

"What to do, what to do?" Julian quickly riffles through his equipment, grabbing a mix of equipment that would hopeful be of use. Grabbing your jaw, he sets your head as far back as he can, and slams one of the devices on your chest, turning it on. He quickly opens your mouth, and starts on the old technique of CPR while the machine pumps at your lungs. Your lips are soft, but he doesn't have the time to focus on them now. You might be dying.

It takes five deep breaths, and two adjustments to the lung compressor before your breathing slows to normal again. Julian takes a deep breath as he separates from your lips for the last time. Your eyes are still open, but extremely hazy and you seem to be falling asleep fast.

"If you… you wanted to kiss me, doctor… you could've just asked." you mutter, a lazy smirk on your lips before you pass out again. Julian blushes, jerking back from your med bed. If he didn't know better, he'd like to lie to himself that he got whatever you've got too.

"Doctor, the scanning equipment is working again!"

"Right now?!" Julian shrieks, his voice several octaves higher than it's supposed to be. He groans, sinking his face into his hands.

It takes five hours since the passing of the space distortion for Jadzia Dax to get back from her mission. When she disembarks from her ship, she's immediately assaulted by the hands of a frantic doctor shaking her.

"Jadzia, I need you in the infirmary immediately!" Julian shouts, his voice higher than normal. Before Jadzia can question him, Julian is already pulling him towards the infirmary.

Julian immediately shows Jadzia the professor laying on the med bed when they get to the infirmary. "Them! There's something wrong and we don't know what!"

Jadzia laughs, to the astonishment of the doctor and couple of nurses mulling about. "Dear Julian, he simply has a cold."

"A cold?!" Julian cries out, looking between Jadzia and you. "Just a cold?! They almost asphyxiated five hours ago! This can't just be a cold!"

"Trill cold's are a bit different to what you humans are used to. And from what I know of the person, Loriaz was a sickly person even prior to the joining." Jadzia explains, to Julian's utter shock. "I'm sure I have some cold medicine in my room."

"A cold…" Julian mutters.

"A cold…" you mutter, to which Julian automatically responds by petting your head. Jadzia observes the gestures with an amused smile.

Julian finishes the final checks on you, happily jotting down your stats. "Well, I'm happy to inform you that you are in quite perfect health. For now, anyways."

"That's what every doctor I've ever had has said to me." You laugh, the sound ringing in Julian's ears like bells. "If Loriaz wasn't so damn brilliant in history and politics, I would've never been chosen to join."

"So, am I to expect to see a lot of you, then?" Julian asks, a hopeful quirk in his voice. You smile, the same smile you had when you teased him right out of a fever-induced sleep. It makes Julian blush, almost bright enough to notice.

"Possibly, good doctor." You say, leaning towards him. Julian stiffens up ramrod straight. A slow but innocent peck is pressed against his cheek, just next to his lips. "Thank you, good doctor. I know that I'll be happy to be in your care in the future."

Julian nods quickly, following your slow departure with stiff movements. You wink back at him before disappearing out of the infirmary.

"…" Julian takes a deep breath, feeling a bit dizzy. He softly touches the spot your kiss lingers on. "Hope to see you soon, professor…"

#The Little Things #Julian Bashir x reader #Star Trek #gender-neutral reader

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deepspacedukat · 2 years ago

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Praetor’s Pride - Part 2

This is shorter than I initially anticipated...also uh...remember how I said there might be like...eight or nine chapters? Yeah, it’s uh...it’s gonna be more than that. Also, I didn’t intend to post today, but uh...here we are. Enjoy!

Part 1 here.

Cross-posted to AO3 here.

~*~

Praetor Hiren (ST:Nemesis) x Reader

[A/N: This has some smut adjacent innuendo/fantasizing, so 18+ ONLY, MINORS DNI!!!]

Warnings: Flirting, mentions of alcohol consumption, hangover, sexual innuendo, brief hint of sexual fantasizing, Hiren drinks his Respect Women Juice daily, insulting Kai Winn is my hobby/passion, platonic cuddling, mild Romulan hand play.

~*~

Hiren kept her in the periphery of his vision as he spoke to the various representatives in attendance. He had one left: a rather unpleasant blonde Bajoran woman. What was her name again? Winn? Internally he cringed as she made some insultingly transparent insinuation about bolstering relations between Bajor and the Empire.

He would much rather reinforce the friendship with the Federation via the lovely young thing Letant had just introduced him to. She was beautiful...utterly entrancing, unlike the power-hungry religious leader who was attempting to garner his favor by laying a hand on his sleeve.

Instead of sensual interest as she’d no doubt hoped to illicit, all Winn had done was inspire a vague nausea that he intended to remedy. The Praetor had endured just about enough of this unpleasantness. Turning his gaze fully and unabashedly toward where Letant and the Ambassador stood giggling with their glasses of Romulan ale, Hiren felt a smile spread across his lips.

“Yes, very interesting, I’m sure. Excuse me, Kai.” Without looking at her or bothering to wait for a response, Hiren puffed himself up the slightest bit and made his way toward his friend and the lovely lady who was slowly taking over his thoughts. Neither noticed his approach. “Now, what could you two be conspiring about?”

Letant wasn’t bothered by his appearance, but the young lady bit her lower lip and attempted very gallantly to stop her laughter.

“Oh, all manner of sordid things unbecoming to two public figures, as usual,” Letant chuckled even as his companion’s lovely face darkened in a blush. She gave the Senator a reproachful glare before looking to Hiren.

“Shaoi kon, Praetor,” she murmured demurely sending his heart thudding in his side. Her pronunciation of the deferential greeting was a little clumsy, but her tongue handled the syllables well otherwise. Maybe he should try to teach her some more of his language just to hear her whisper it in his ear...

Shaking that notion from his head and stepping closer to her, Hiren lifted a hand to his chest and inclined his head very slightly.

“Shaoi dan, lhhei.” At his intonation, surprise flitted over her face. So she knew the difference in meaning between the two phrases, then. That was good. Letant had introduced her as a prospective mate. No matter what position they each held, he wanted to make sure she knew that he perceived her as his equal. He hoped that the more balanced greeting he’d given would demonstrate that. “Forgive me for interrupting, but would you still be interested in conversing? I suspect that several intriguing differences in philosophy might become apparent in our discussion.”

“Of course. I’d love to, Praetor,” she replied, but he held up a hand.

“I recognize that our positions are very different, however, I would consider it a personal favor if you would call me ‘Hiren.’ There are enough Senators and military leaders who call me by my title as it is. I’d prefer to count you amongst that small group of people who are more...familiar with me.” He only put a small hint of sternness into his tone, but that was apparently enough to get through to her that he was serious about that request.

“As you wish...Hiren.” Her smirk sent a jolt of warmth through him. The Praetor had never much cared one way or another for his name, but the way this pretty little Human said it made several feelings stir beneath his otherwise calm surface. He watched as she handed her glass to Letant and clasped her hands behind her back. “Shall we?”

“Walk with me,” he said as he nodded his head in agreement. They were silent until they stepped out onto the balcony overlooking the steep drop leading to the edge of the Apnex Sea. Beneath the silvery light of the moon, Hiren watched as his companion stepped up to the railing and took a deep, bracing breath of sea air. The curve of her alien ears and the pleasing softness of her brow made him wish to skim his fingers over every inch of her just to know if her skin felt as soft as it looked. “I must admit, lhhei, I don’t know much of Human philosophy.”

“That’s alright. I know absolutely nothing of Romulan philosophy,” she said offering him a small smile. “I’ve spent quite a bit of time with Letant, but beyond my general observations of him and his behavior, I must say, your people are almost entirely a mystery to me.”

“Ah, then I fervently hope that I’ll make a good impression,” he said allowing his eyes to skim over her face in more detail. There was a subtle blush on her cheeks for which he assumed the Romulan ale was responsible - although, he did hope that it also had something to do with him.

“I’m certain you will, Hiren. You already represented your people admirably during your speech tonight.” The Praetor subconsciously puffed himself up a little, preening at her praise.

“One of my more eloquent addresses, in my opinion,” he noted glancing out at the waves. A light laugh trickled from the lady at his side, and he lifted an eyebrow as he turned back to her quizzically. “You disagree?”

“No, but I see your ego is no less inflated than Letant’s. I’ll be more careful about how I phrase my compliments in future.” She sounded almost as mischievous as she had with Letant.

“Humility is not often found in large quantities within Romulans. Surely you’ve realized that by now?”

“Oh, naturally. Some people find it annoying, but, to me, that’s part of what makes your people so intriguing,” she said turning to face him fully and leaning against the railing. “There’s a saying on Earth, though: ‘Pride goeth before the fall.’”

Hiren’s tongue darted out to wet his lips briefly at her insinuation and took a step closer, keeping eye contact with her the whole time.

“And...where exactly do you expect me to fall, dear lady?” He couldn’t contain the smirk that curled his lips at the way her eyes widened a fraction. Were those her pheromones that were clouding his mind so thoroughly?

The Ambassador looked up into his eyes and swallowed visibly before she answered.

“I don’t know you well enough to tell yet, Hiren.” Her voice was small and a little shaky, and a brief thought that he was the hunter and she his prey flitted through the Praetor’s imagination. That was a game he would dearly love to play with her. It was wise of her to remain guarded for now, though. After all, they’d only just met.

“We’ll have to remedy that, won’t we?” He couldn’t keep the flirtatious tone from his voice. Her eyes darted down to his lips for barely a moment, but he noticed - oh, he definitely noticed - the hunger that was there, even if it only lasted a split second. And it was hunger. Of that he was very certain. Letant had told him that Humans used their mouths for intimacy. Hiren had attempted to ‘kiss’ her hand earlier in the night, but he was unsure if he’d done it correctly. Now he desperately wanted a more personal demonstration of how that action was accomplished when done correctly. “Would you consider joining me for the midday meal tomorrow? There’ll be no need to stand upon ceremony. It’ll be just the two of us. If you can stand being around an arrogant Romulan for that long, of course.”

“Well...it’ll be a test of my endurance, but I think I can handle one measly little meal with you.” Hiren’s smile widened, and he was about to say something witty when her fingertips brushed against the side of his hand, trailing lazily up toward his wrist. His breath hitched and his mouth dropped open in surprise. Did she know of Romulan hand play? To touch the ruler of the Empire so brazenly in a public area... Had she any idea how she’d just enticed him?

The gleam in her eye told him she had at least a vague idea of what she’d done. If she’d been his already, she’d be in for a long night for forcing him to hold his composure during such an important event. Of course, that behavior just reinforced what Letant had said about her: she was an ideal mate for a Romulan and much too good for any pathetic Human male to claim. She deserved the best, which Hiren would strive to be for her.

Tamping down his physical reaction to her, Hiren looked to one of the floral arrangements at the side of the door. Quick as a flash, he’d snapped up one of the Sea Lilies and tucked it carefully into her hair.

“There. You already fit the scenery to perfection, but now it fits you, as well,” he murmured as a blush crept up her cheeks to the tips of her non-pointed ears. “Perhaps tomorrow I’ll be able to focus on more than just your beauty so that we can actually discuss philosophy as we’d planned.”

“I’d like that,” she replied quietly. “I’ll see you tomorrow, then, Hiren. Thanks for the chat.��

Just like that, she’d stepped around him and back into the banquet hall teeming with people. Once he’d lost sight of her, Hiren leaned on the railing and let out a heavy breath. This Human girl was dangerous if he was already thinking of her in such a familiar manner. Letant hadn’t told him she would be that good of a catch.

The next morning, I was awakened by my door chime. Groaning into my pillow, I called for whoever it was to come in and blearily climbed out of bed. Wrapping myself up in a warm, fluffy bathrobe, I peered out of the bedroom to see Letant lounging on my couch as if he owned the place. He smirked as soon as I stepped into his field of vision.

“Ah, I see the alcohol affected you more than you let on last night. Your head must’ve been positively swimming by the time I returned you to your quarters,” he said as I shuffled over and curled up next to him on the couch with a small grunt. Without a moment’s hesitation, the Senator reached over and pulled me closer to him so I could lean against his side. “Well, you haven’t called me a bastard yet, so I take it your talk with Hiren was pleasant? You certainly seemed exuberant when you rejoined me after your walk with him last night.”

“You weren’t s’pposed to introduce me to someone actually nice, you smug ale sponge, you,” I grumbled against his shoulder. A smooth laugh poured from his throat and I buried my face further into the soft material of his tunic. “I’m serious. You were supposed to introduce me to yet another bigoted, pompous ass of a man so I could spend my days laughing at people with you instead of wondering what to wear to lunch with the Praetor of the entire fucking Romulan Empire–”

“You’re having lunch together? You didn’t tell me that last night.” Letant pounced on that piece of information, and I nodded my head silently from my curled up position. “Then I shall keep my mischief to a minimum today.”

“Oh no you don’t! You don’t get to start chaos then run off like you usually do. You got me into this, and I need your help figuring out what outfit would be appropriate.” I grabbed his arm firmly as if to keep him here, but he just rested his chin atop my head. “I don’t want to make an ass of myself.”

“Never fear. I’d never let you go into something like this blindly. First, however, I think you might need my hangover cure, am I right?”

“And whose fault is that?” I snarked looking up at him.

“What can I say? I enjoy your laughter and you give me so much more of it when you’ve had alcohol. You know I wouldn’t allow anything to happen to you, sweet girl.”

“Of course I do. Why else do you think I allow myself to drink so much of that blue warp plasma you call ale?”

“At least we don’t drink that synthetic swill that is supposedly alcohol,” he retorted, and I couldn’t help but giggle against his side. We reclined there for a little while longer before Letant extricated himself and went to the replicator. He returned with a glass of what looked like tar - a sight I’d become quite accustomed to after many nights of overindulging in Romulan ale in his company. Even if I never got too severely intoxicated, Romulan ale caused the worst hangovers in existence, so this horrid black goop was a necessary evil. “You know the drill. Drink until your tongue feels fuzzy, then close your eyes till the sensation goes away.”

I accepted the glass with a grimace and did as he instructed. When I closed my eyes and leaned my head back, Letant ran his fingers gently through my hair. Eventually, the pounding in my head stopped and the lights didn’t seem as painful.

“Better?” I hummed quietly at his question and turned my head to look at him. “What is it?”

“Oh nothing. I just don’t know what I’d do without you. Aside from having a diminished number of hangovers, that is,” I murmured, and he gave me a fond smile.

“Always so sentimental. Come. Let’s sort through your wardrobe. I’m sure there’s something we can work with, even if Human clothes aren’t quite as stylish as Romulan ones.” He stood and made his way toward my bedroom, and I followed close at his heels.

“At least we don’t look like we’re trying to disguise ourselves as couches.” He let out a bark of laughter.

“Just remember that this particular ‘couch’ is the reason you have a date!”

~*~*~

Romulan words:

shaoi kon = formal greeting from inferior to superior

shaoi dan = formal greeting between equals

lhhei = madam

#deepspacedukat fic #Praetor Hiren x Reader #Hiren x Reader #mild innuendo

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