#mission hill jim

[solstere]

Jim Kuback, the man of impeccable fashion sense ✨

Inspired by a conversation I had with my friend Saturn!

[ishizylonnn]

Hey guys I’m being a little silly and posting my Mission Hill doodles

I love this show so much

[pryzzm]

ao3 likes stories with stupid titles right </3

[quirk-nova]

Jim Kuback from Mission Hill (Since I saw an Andy French one)

Jim Kuback (Mission Hill) aesthetic board for anon

[boobachu]

[sapphic-vomit]

[adamstnheights]

Stitches - Simon “Ghost” Riley x F!Reader

Summary: You’re the newest recruit to 141 and still trying to figure out your intimidating, mysterious lieutenant. Being assigned as his partner on the field for the first time on a sniper mission, you’re unsure exactly how to act around him, especially when he has such an… effect on you. But when you both get caught in the crossfire, you’re forced to take cover with him and mend his wounds, much to his (begrudging) appreciation.

An alternative take on the Recon by Fire mission in MWII. Also based loosely around the Simon Riley ASMR video by Jim ASMR on YouTube because it was just so cute :)

Reader’s callsign is Zero (iykyk)

Content: Reader uses she/her pronouns, Sniper Reader, Reader used to want to be a medic, Military Inaccuracies, Medical Inaccuracies, Gunshot Wounds, Ghost being super soft, You taking care of Ghost, Ghost taking care of you, Gentle touches, Needles, Bandages, Stitches, Developing feelings, Ghost trusting you, Flirting, Fluff, Ghost is a cat person (REAL)

Word Count: 7.4k

“Ghost and Zero, you’ll station up at the top of the hill and see if you can take any of the cartel guards out from a distance,” Price ordered over comms. “When the path is clear, Gaz and I will move into the hatchery and clear them out, looking for any evidence of the missiles. Laswell will be out on the water on overwatch. If we need her, she can get to shore and join us in the hatchery.”

Usually, you would be standing in the debriefing room to hear your instructions for a mission, but because of the short notice and urgency, you were listening to Price’s voice over comms in the back of one of the task force’s vans. While Price continued to speak, you slowly let your gaze move over to where Ghost was sitting across from you in the back of the van, only for your whole body to seize up when you realized that he was already staring at you. And of course, you couldn’t tell what the hell he was thinking—basically his whole expression was covered by his mask. It frustrated you to no end. It felt like he always had the upper hand, not allowing the enemy or opposition to get a read on his face, which was understandable, but you wanted to know. You wanted to be able to know what he was thinking. In comparison, it made you feel extremely vulnerable. Maybe you’d look into getting your own mask.

Being the rookie made you feel extremely out of place. It didn’t matter you had five years of being a sniper under your belt; you’ve only been with them for six months, so to the rest of Task Force 141, you were still the newbie. Talk about your skill had been passed around by word of mouth, and soon Captain John Price had approached your former unit and proposed a deal to you that was too good to pass up. So a few months and a location change later, you were the newest addition to 141, thus securing your label as “the rookie.” There wasn’t really anything you could do about it.

Luckily, the guys in the unit welcomed you with open arms, although the kindness did come along with a fair share of humorous and flirtatious remarks. Soap and Gaz basically took you under their wing immediately, taking pride in teaching you new things and showing you the ropes of 141. They urged you to join in on their game nights and when they would go out to the bar after a hard day of training or a rough mission. You felt at ease around the other men, too, for the most part.

Ghost was another story. From the first time you met him, you were intimidated. He had a towering, large figure that could speak for itself, but also his voice was deep and gruff, especially when he was barking out orders. You weren’t scared of him, per se, but you were cautious. From the interactions you’ve had with him and the way you’ve observed him on missions, you definitely wouldn’t want to get on his bad side. He was mysterious—the mask and skull cover showed that the most, but on top of that, you noticed the way he expertly dodged any prying questions that Soap would ask him over comms during a mission. When you and the rest of the crew got drunk and began spewing out stories from your former lives, you noticed how Ghost would simply sit back and listen, observe, but not provide any stories of his own. You were sure he had his reasons for being closed off, but you couldn’t help but wish that he were… more approachable. Especially now that you were on your first mission with just him by your side, you felt like you knew him the least out of the other members of 141.

The van slowly and quietly came to a stop towards the top of the hill. Ghost opened the back doors and jumped out onto the ground and you followed, rifle in hand.

“Zero, on me,” Ghost said, nodding his head his way.

The fog along the coastline was thick—good for the enemies not spotting you, but not as good for you spotting the enemies. You stationed yourself about forty yards away from the edge of the uppermost hill, where the grass was thick and high. The outline of the hatchery could be seen far, far in the distance, right along the edge of the land. From where you and Ghost were crouching, you could see below where a dirt path winded slowly down the hills. It would take some time and patience to fully push forward and make it safe enough for Price and Gaz to breach the buildings down below. But you were ready; more importantly, you were counting on this mission to prove your worthiness to Ghost. It was kind of pathetic. You knew you were a damn good sniper out on the battlefield, and yet, ever since Ghost’s intense, unreadable gaze landed on you, you’d felt determined to do whatever it took to get his approval. It didn’t help that the way he looked at you kind of really made your heart race, in the most confusing way, and the periodic sarcastic jokes he would make over comms made him more endearing.

Still, you didn’t want to push your luck. The last thing you wanted was for this mission to bring you back to square one in terms of your reputation on the team. In front of you, Ghost crouched even lower to the ground, pointing his rifle outward and looking through the scope. You fell back slightly behind him, also crouching in the grass. After a few moments of silence, you furrowed your brow at him, unsure whether he was going to say something or if he was just trying to act like you weren’t even there. Maybe he was annoyed by you, annoyed that out of everyone else on 141, he was stuck with the rookie.

Finally, he nodded his head forwards, motioning you to follow him. Both of you crawled through the grass until you reached closer to the edge of the hill. You both got down, fully lying on the dirt. Through the fog, you could now make out the wire fences around the hatchery, where cartel were guarding the entrances and walking along the dirt paths surrounding it.

“I can see about ten of ’em, all ’round the entrance fence,” Ghost finally broke the silence. 

“We need to take our time,” you said, “They’ll spread out, into groups of two or three. Then we can take them out.”

“I’ll follow your lead,” he replied, “Let me know who to take out.” Normally, he would be argumentative to a new recruit taking the initiative, but there was something about you that fascinated him. He didn’t mind hearing your voice walking through the plan and telling him what to do. Price had told him about your skill; he knew that you knew what you were doing.

You readjusted your rifle just so, looking through the scope.

“On top of the building, two snipers,” you announced, “Do you see my laser on your thermal?”

You could hear Ghost repositioning his rifle a couple feet away from you in the grass. “Affirmative.”

“Go.”

You pulled the trigger, hitting the sniper on the right. Mere seconds afterwards, you heard Ghost’s rifle go off and through the scope you could see the second sniper’s body fall over.

“Got ’im,” he said. “On the right side of the fence, near the blue shipping container, there’s two.”

“I’m on him,” you said, lining up your shot next to his.

Ghost shot first this time, you followed him. The two men by the shipping container dropped to the ground. You continued scanning the area.

“Three more, below, closer to us, walking by that white van,” you flexed your hand and regripped the trigger.

“I’ll get the stray,” Ghost said.

“Copy that.”

You lined up your shot to the guy furthest to the right, watching as Ghost’s laser appeared over the man next to him. Again, seconds after you shot, Ghost followed, taking out the other. He quickly readjusted his hold on the rifle to focus in on the third one of the group. As you watched through the scope, the third man immediately went onto high alert, pointing his gun around him. Ghost wasn’t worried though as he lined up his shot. Poor bloke; unlike the first two men, this one would spend his last living seconds in panic mode.

Unfortunately, in the few seconds in between, the third man shouted and seemingly alerted someone else. Immediately after Ghost shot him down, two more men came running into view, shooting upwards towards the two of you. With a few uncoordinated shots, you and Ghost took them down quickly, but the not-so-subtle gunfire from your direction gave away your position. Before you could even think about moving, a bullet sped right past your view and into Ghost’s arm.

“Fuckin’ hell!” Ghost grunted, sucking in his breath in pain. “Where the fuck—?”

You were frantically scanning the area for where the shot could have come from when another bullet came speeding towards you, and you felt a sharp pain searing through your own arm. Furrowing your brow, you struggled to look even harder through the scope. “Shit—!” You winced.

“Got ’im,” Ghost announced, pulling the trigger, “To your left, on top of that small shed. There was another one.”

“Fuck.” You noticed two more men emerging from behind the shed. Both of you quickly took them down. “We– We need to push forward, we don’t have the best view from here. I can’t tell if we cleared the whole area.”

“Copy that.”

You began to crawl forward, the pressure of leaning on your right arm not helping the gash there. Before you could crawl even a foot you felt an unfamiliar touch on your forearm. Ghost had placed his gloved hand there, and you turned to look at him.

“You okay?” He asked lowly. You nodded your head, too shocked to speak.

You and Ghost quickly moved forward, onto an area of grass a bit lower down the hill than where you were before. You could see a bit closer now, and from the new angle, you could make out the rest of the area below. There were a handful more men on guard around the building, and you gripped your rifle hard in an attempt to distract your body from the pain. You monitored Ghost’s laser and helped him take out the men accordingly. Barely any more gunfire was exchanged.

“Price, Gaz—we cleared the outside surroundings of the buildings. You should be good to go in now,” he directed over comms.

“Copy. Good work, you two,” Price replied.

You met Ghost’s eyes from between the blades of grass and you could tell that he was intentionally not letting Price know that you two got hit. You could have spoken up yourself but you had successfully eliminated everyone and neither bullet seemed to have hit anything critical. Giving the lieutenant a knowing nod, you scanned the area and noticed a stream of water by a small stone building. It wasn’t really a building, more like a small hut. Ghost saw where you were looking and nodded his head towards it, giving you the go ahead.

Crouching slightly, you both quickly snuck towards the stone shack. Ghost positioned himself to cover the rickety wooden door, which you kicked in, instantly holding your rifle up to clear the inside. He followed you close behind, checking all corners of the worn-over room. Everything inside was covered in moss or other overgrown plants.

“Clear.” Ghost stated, lowering his gun. You were already sliding down against the stone wall towards the corner of the room, grasping the side of your arm. Ghost rushed to your side, sitting next to you. “Here,” he went to look at your arm, but you expertly reached for him first.

“Show me yours first,” you whispered, “Mine’s just a graze. Yours is worse.”

“Are you defying your superior?” He asked. You couldn’t tell if he was joking or not.

“Yours is worse,” you repeated, shaking your head, “The bullet lodged in there. I need to take a look.” You were staring at his left bicep, where the layers of jacket and shirts were ripped into by the bullet. The hole in Ghost’s skin was large, bleeding profusely.

“It’s nothing,” he grumbled, “I’m more worried about you, Zero.”

Your eyebrow raised and you tilted your head up to look at him. Behind the mask, you could see his eyes clearly. They were hazel, and for probably one of the first times since you’ve known him, they looked soft and genuine. Up close, you could see little spots where the black paint smudged and his skin was peeking through. His eyelashes were blonde, slightly covered by some black face paint, but definitely blonde. Suddenly, you were trying to picture Ghost’s blonde hair under the mask and balaclava. You weren’t as intimidated by him anymore as you were intrigued—deep down, you wished you could see more of him.

From what you’ve observed of him (plus things Soap and Gaz have said), you knew he wasn’t really as big and scary as he seemed to be. He cracked jokes over comms during missions. During downtime on base he’d join the rest of the group playing cards or drinking, still wearing his balaclava obviously, but without the skull cover and only minimal black eye black on, so you could see more of his face clearly. You would never admit it to the rest of the guys, certainly not Soap, but you found Ghost to be quite handsome. (You could just hear Soap teasing you: You don’t even know what he looks like! He could be ugly!) Between his deep voice, towering figure, and the way his hands worked around his rifle (you have stared too many times to admit), he was… hot. What more could you say? It felt like a silly high school crush; he was your superior and you barely knew anything about him. But… you wished you could learn more. You would, if he’d let you. You would.

And now, with his face only inches away from yours, his eyes looking at you intently, you felt determined to take care of him. You wanted to see that softer side of him, and you also wanted an excuse to dote on him. Already, he was acting a bit more flustered than usual with you trying to defy him. You wondered how long you’d be able to keep it up for.

“I’m not taking that for an answer,” you insisted. “Yours is worse, so we’re taking care of you first.”

Ghost raised his eyebrows, his mouth partly open in shock of your defiance, but his lips spread into a smirk, amused by your determined edge. He was intrigued by you, so he’d let you win this argument. He didn’t say anything more as you inched closer to him. He sat with his entire back against the wall, facing forward. You turned your body towards him, sitting cross-legged as you placed a hand on his arm where the bullet wound was.

“I… think you’re going to have to take this off. The jacket, at least. Sorry, Lieutenant,” you said.

“You can call me Ghost, you know,” he said as he leaned forward to unclip his tactical vest and shuck the jacket off.

“Sorry,” you said quietly, “I was just trying to be polite, I guess.”

“Don’t need to be polite with me,” he smirked.

“Okay… Ghost,” you smiled. You took off your own tactical vest and rummaged through the back pockets, pulling out your first aid kit. You opened the kit and took out the tweezers. “Sorry if this hurts.”

“S’alright, not the worst thing I’ve endured. And I haven’t had the privilege of such an… assertive patching up,” Ghost could feel himself blushing behind the mask. He was glad you couldn’t see.

First, you inspected the bullet. It had implanted inside his arm, making it impossible for any kind of extraction, especially under conditions like these. With only minimal shattering, the pieces embedded into the muscle, there were no critical places hit or at risk. Your main goal was to stop the bleeding so you could stitch the wound closed.

“It seems like… most of your muscle absorbed the bullet. No bone damage or critical areas hit, so… all I’m gonna do is stitch you up,” you explained. You held back a giggle, pushing away the urge to squeeze his arm; you weren’t entirely sure if he’d like that very much (you were almost positive he’d kill you). “When we get back to base, the nurses at the infirmary can keep an eye on it to make sure it doesn’t get infected or anything, and if not, then it’ll just heal over.”

“Aw, no trophy for me to take home?” Ghost asked.

“You still get to take it home,” you replied, taking your two fingers and tapping his arm above the wound, “just in here. Hey, now it’ll always be with you.” He shuddered at your touch.

You began cleaning around and in the wound, earning a sharp hiss from Ghost’s mouth as you wiped the area off with a small rag and some water from your hydration bladder. You poured some water slowly onto the wound, trying to flush out any dirt or debris, before placing some gauze over it and applying pressure to slow the bleeding. While your one hand was pushing against his arm, you reached your other hand back into the first aid kit, fishing around for your stitching tools. You took out a needle with thread, along with a needle driver. You placed the needle driver on your leg for the time being.

You dug into one of your pockets, brandishing a small square alcohol wipe package, which you promptly ripped open with your teeth so you wouldn’t have to set the needle down. Ghost practically had to hold back from choking on his own breath, the way you were so focused and determined was certainly making him feel some unfamiliar type of way. He had barely gotten a chance to hesitate or argue against you patching him up, he was too mesmerized in watching you and you were already grabbing a hold of his arm again, sending a tingle down his spine as you cleaned his wound.

Then, with one hand, you pierced the skin on one side of the open wound with the needle, then the other side. Your other hand held the needle driver, which you used to grip onto the end of the needle, pulling the thread through the newly made holes. With an even amount of thread left on either side of the wound, you wrapped the thread from the left side around the needle driver twice, then grabbed the other end of the thread with the driver. You pulled from both ends gently, making a first throw of the stitch. You did it again, looping the one side of the thread around the driver, grasping the other end, and pulling it tightly to make the knot. Ghost watched, almost in awe, at your expert handiwork. You made it look so easy. 

“I... wanted to be a nurse, or a medic, or whatever, you know,” you rambled as you moved up the wound a few centimeters, piercing the skin to start another stitch, “I made it through undergrad and then… shit just didn’t really work out. But hey, I found out I was a pretty good sniper. So I’m good for somethin’, at least.”

Simon felt his whole body heating up from the way both of your hands were making contact with his upper arm. One hand was gently pressing down on his bicep around the wound while your other had the needle held in between your fingers. The gash you were closing up on him was large; it was certainly going to leave Ghost with a jagged scar. But for once, he felt at ease.

In all his years in the military, the marks and scars that have riddled his body only brought him more shame and discomfort. Sure, there were a few scars that were his “go-to” to talk about when the other guys began showing off about past endeavors (This one here, knife fight. I grabbed the bloke from behind and stabbed’im in the neck, but not before he got one in my side). Other than that, most of the bullet holes and jagged lines where his skin couldn’t fully heal only reminded him of the horrors and the pain. Now, though, the thought of having a scar on his arm from a wound that you took care of, he couldn’t be more elated. A mark on his body, stitched together carefully and gracefully by you. A secret moment—a memory—that only the two of you shared, forever imprinted into his arm; a scar that no one else would know the backstory to, unless he decided to tell it (he wouldn’t—he didn’t want to share this moment with anyone else).

Okay, so maybe some sort of feelings were blossoming in the cold, cold heart of Simon Riley. You didn’t have much of an idea about it, and honestly, neither did Ghost himself. Soap had teased him multiple times about a supposed “crush” that Ghost didn’t fully realize he had. But the sergeant certainly had. Soap teased him about how he always insisted he didn’t want to play cards with the rest of the team, only to grab a seat next to you and strategize how to beat everyone else. Was it an excuse to sit real close to you and exchange whispers and laughter? Soap would never get an answer because Ghost would tell him to fuck off, but he already knew the answer anyways.

Ghost’s heart was racing, suddenly and somehow nervous in your presence.

“Why do they call you Zero?” He asked abruptly, a random question spilling from his lips. He just wanted to keep hearing you talk to him.

“Isn’t that like, impolite to ask?” You smirked.

He laughed—a genuine, full out laugh. Your eyes brightened. “I’m only curious,” he said softly. “Jus’ tryin’ to make conversation.”

“Well, why do they call you Ghost?” You shot back playfully.

“Now that’s classified, love.” His eyes immediately widened as the endearing term slipped from his lips. He hoped you didn’t catch it; meanwhile, you were going to think about it for the rest of the week. You grinned to yourself, and he looked down at his hands and focused on how your needle pierced his skin—a certain amount of discomfort, but something that felt good knowing that you were right there next to him. He didn’t want to get into his callsign; however, he was willing to give you something else. “My name—my real name, I mean… It’s Simon.”

You stared at him, wide eyed. You almost couldn’t believe that he told you, you hadn’t expected him to want you to know something like that. “Simon,” you repeated, watching as he nodded his head. “That’s a nice name. Simon. So… am I allowed to call you Simon now?”

Ghost looked past you at the wall for a brief moment, thinking. “Not on the field,” he stated, “But… when we’re back on base… sure. Yeah. Call me Simon.”

You shivered at his deep voice. Simon, Simon, Simon. You wanted to say it again and again. And he wanted to hear you say it. He would like his name a thousand times better if it was coming from your mouth.

“Simon—”

“Hey.”

“Sorry. Ghost,” you giggled. 

Three stitches down. You kept working, quickly and efficiently. Ghost kept watching you, wondering why Price hadn’t brought you onto the team as a medic. Not that your sniping abilities weren’t needed and greatly appreciated, but Ghost selfishly thought about how from now on, if he got so much as a small scrape, he’d go to you for help. Soon enough, you were finishing the last throw on the fourth stitch. You moved onto the next one, lacing the thread through the needle to start again.

“Don’t know how to use half the shit in the first aid kit,” now it was Ghost’s turn to ramble, “Usually just slap a bandage on ’n hope for the best. I mean, I’m not stupid, I don’t leave my shit untouched to get infected or anything. I just… don’t really follow up on any of my doctor’s appointments. But I’ve made it alright so far.”

“You should let yourself be taken care of more often,” you said softly. Your face grew hot when you realized the way that could have sounded and you added, “When you get hurt like this. You don’t have to always put on a brave face and grit through the pain. You need to take care of yourself.”

Ghost scoffed almost instinctively, but his heart swelled at your concern for him. He admired you for being so caring, not just to him, but to everyone on the team. Despite not always showing it, he cared deeply about all of the other guys on 141, he would die for any of them. He didn’t have a family, but 141 was the closest he had to one. The way his team interacted with each other was important to him, and watching how you melded with everyone else over the past couple of months, he felt happy, content. Your kindness only intrigued him more; he wished that he could be the only recipient of your sweet words and attention.

“Well, I– I don’t usually trust anyone to patch me up,” he attempted at some sort of compliment. Your eyebrow raised and you looked up at him.

“Hmm. So… you trust me then?” You asked cautiously. You heard stories about how Ghost hardly trusted anyone, and your heart began to beat faster at the implication that you had somehow made it on the list of those he did.

“You could say that,” he said. He cursed himself in his mind for not knowing how to properly talk to you, how to make you feel cared about the way you made everyone else feel cared about.

“And what’s that supposed to mean exactly?” A smirk spread across your face.

“Fuck’s sake, just take the compliment, will ya?” Ghost practically grumbled, sounding like an annoyed child.

You let out a soft laugh. Ghost put the sound of your laugh into the back of his mind, for safekeeping. “That’s your way of giving me a compliment, huh?” You teased.

“M’not very good at it, am I?” He sighed into a small laugh.

“Just a bit rusty,” you tilted your head up at him, your faces somehow closer than you had remembered, “But you can get better with practice.”

“Practice, hm?”

“Uh-huh. You can feel free to practice your compliments and pick up lines on me anytime.” You were too shy to make eye contact with him after that; you began to focus extremely on his wound. 

Ghost’s right eyebrow raised slightly, unable to properly register whether you were genuinely insinuating that you would enjoy it if he flirted with you. As if he even knew how to. Suddenly, he felt embarrassed that he had no idea what to say. He thought about Johnny, and how his downright stupid pick up lines he used on people at the bar usually actually worked. There was no way Johnny would let him hear the end of it if he approached him for help with flirting, but Ghost wondered who else he would want to confide in when they returned to base. 

“Almost finished,” you announced, finishing another suture. The skin was carefully pulled back together, only needing one or two more stitches. “I am fairly confident that this will heal very quickly and very nicely. Well, granted that you go back to the infirmary and get yourself followed up on.” You raised your eyebrows at him expectantly.

“Do I have to go to the infirmary when we get back?” He complained. You laughed at the way he practically whined.

You looped the thread again with the needle driver and began the last suture. In a matter of moments, you’d knotted the thread three times over and secured the suture flat to the skin. You moved your head closer to inspect your work, nodding and looking up at him.

“Well, I’m done stitching you up. And yes, you do, because you need to make sure your wound doesn’t get infected,” you said, half sternly. Soap told you probably hundreds of stories about Ghost refusing to get proper medical help after returning from a mission, and your fleeting former life as an almost-nurse made you feel very strongly on the topic. “Please, after all I did to stitch you together, won’t you make sure that it heals alright?”

His heart swelled. As much as he tried to push down feelings like this, he knew that he’d do anything for you. And you asked so nicely. However, he had a negotiation in mind.

“Well… What if I get checked up on by you? When we get back to base? You know, instead of going to the infirmary?” He raised his eyebrow and watched the gears turn in your mind. He prayed that his message would come across properly: I’d rather see you. I trust you more.

“Don’t go getting too attached to your medic, now,” you fake tsk-ed at him, but you were smiling, too. Ghost laughed. Too late for that. 

“You can give me a once over when we get back. Vouch for me so I don’t have to go deal with the other doctors,” he pushed.

“You’re very difficult, Ghost,” you tutted. “But… I’d rather be the one to make sure you’re alright. That way I can ensure you’re following the proper recovery routine.” You reached into your kit again and got out a bandage roll. You reached out for his arm again, beginning to wrap the bandage gauze around his arm.

“And what kind of recovery routine would you want me to follow?”

You clicked your tongue, thinking. “You have to let me eat dinner with you in your room. And then after, I can check your wound,” you decided. Luckily, the words coming out of your mouth were far from Go on a date with me, but it was certainly the closest you’d get. Ghost hardly ever ate dinner in the common area with the rest of the task force, you assumed mostly because eating would involve him having to pull his mask up. Remembering this fact, you quickly added, “I won’t even look at you while you eat. I just… thought maybe you’d like some company.”

He stopped himself from blurting out something inappropriate, a dumb teasing line about you just trying to make up an excuse to get into his bedroom. His usual confidence to say whatever dumb, crass joke he wanted disappeared with you so close to him. He was more nervous than anything to scare you away, to say something that would make you not want to be around him.

“I’d accept that,” he finally said. “And… you wouldn’t need to do that.” He could feel his heart pounding out of his chest. “You’re allowed to take a look at me while I’m eating.” He smirked as he saw your cheeks grow red. 

“I— I mean, I didn’t mean I wanted to like, stare at you while you’re—” you tripped over your words, stopping to take a breath and collect your thoughts. Slowly, you opened your mouth again, “Well, I mean, I am curious… I guess…”

Ghost was smiling proudly under his mask, finding it incredibly endearing the way you admitted your curiosity. He always stuck to his secrecy behind the mask for the most part; he was sure that the other guys had seen his jawline and mouth from the times he ate or drank around them, but they never made too big of a deal (besides Soap, who would use the mask as a prime source for his teasing). More often than not, on base, he’d retreat to his room to eat simply to avoid any annoyances around lifting the mask up and back down over and over. But now, really thinking about it, he realized he wouldn’t mind at all if you saw him eating. Maybe, just maybe, he would enjoy your company for dinner on a daily basis. He wouldn’t jump to that conclusion just yet, but in the back of his mind, he already knew.

“I wouldn’t mind,” Ghost said, “I’d rather be able to look at you and talk to you while we eat.”

“So you’re taking my offer,” you beamed.

“That I am. Now let me look at you.”

The lacerations along your own arm were stinging and bleeding, but somehow the high of the lieutenant caring about you overrode that pain. Still, you weren’t going to pass up the opportunity to have Ghost dote on you, although you had a feeling he wouldn’t be as gentle as you were with him. Either way, you let him help you take your jacket off and you shuddered at the few moments his bare hand brushed against you. He placed his hands on either side of you, on your shoulders, turning you more towards him, closer to him. He looked at your arm.

“Look, we have matching wounds,” he said, raising his own arm up next to yours. You let out a small laugh, not expecting him to say something like that. It was sweet.

“We both have something to remember this day by.”

“You want to remember this?” He asked, as if he weren’t going to think about the way you gently stitched him up and took care of him for the rest of his life.

“Of course,” you replied, “We completed our mission, quite well, I might add, and I think we make a good team. Plus, you told me your name. So of course I want to remember this.”

Ghost blinked at you, trying to decipher any evidence of disingenuousness in your face, only to be met with the exact opposite. Your expression was soft and genuine. Your eyes shimmered for him. Ghost wasn’t used to hearing such nice, kind things towards himself, and you could tell he wasn’t used to it by the way he remained silent, not even coming up with a dry joke to change the subject. You wondered how many times you would have to compliment him before you could really get through to him.

“You’re staring, Zero,” Ghost’s deep voice brought you out of your thoughts.

“Sorry,” you mumbled, “Can’t help that you’re nice to look at.”

He rolled his eyes and shook his head, trying to ignore the way his cheeks were flushing again. His hands were slightly shaky as he took your arm, closer to him this time. He shifted his whole body so he was completely facing you, ready to patch you up.

You had only been grazed by the bullet, but it still hurt like hell. Your whole right arm was burning up with a searing pain, not the worst you’ve ever felt, but it definitely wasn’t comfortable. The skin on your arm wasn’t torn open the same way Ghost’s was, with the bullet embedding inside, but it was like the edge of the bullet tried to scoop into your skin like a shovel into dirt. It didn’t go through or below the skin, but it was deep enough that blood was trickling down your arm. You were so focused on taking care of Ghost that you had barely noticed it.

“Fuckin’ hell, Zero,” Ghost said, his eyes widening in concern from seeing your wound more clearly. “You’re lucky the bullet didn’t lodge in ya.”

He reached next to him and grabbed a wad of gauze, dampening it with some water and placing it over you. His large hand placed pressure on you to stop the bleeding. You tried not to think about his hand pushing against you in a different context. His hands were warm on you and you couldn’t help but shiver. You hoped he didn’t notice the goosebumps along your arm.

After a few minutes of applying pressure to your wound, Ghost lifted up the gauze, inspecting you.

“Looks like the blood mostly stopped,” he told you, putting the wad of gauze next to him on the ground. He took out his own alcohol wipes, holding them up first as if to warn you This might hurt. He held your arm with one hand and wiped the wound with the other. The alcohol stung but it didn’t matter. Ghost was taking care of you. “Hold still.”

As he sanitized your wound, Ghost would wince whenever he heard you suck in a breath or make a small, pained sound from the alcohol. He didn’t want to hurt you. He wanted to be gentle with you like you were with him. Sure, maybe he wasn’t very good at all that, but he’d like to try, for you. His fingers brushed against your skin as he ran the alcohol wipe over the scrapes a few times, sanitizing the area and wiping away the blood.

“Don’t have any antiseptic,” he mumbled.

“Wait, I do,” you speak up, taking out a small tube of antiseptic ointment from your kit. Handing it to him, he put some on his pointer and middle fingers, gently making contact with your skin. He patted the ointment into the wound and the skin around it, his expression deeply focused to make sure he wasn’t hurting you. He wiped the excess on a small square of gauze and looked at you, as if waiting for approval. You blinked at him, smiling sweetly, and he turned away, always nervous when you smile at him, to reach for the bandage roll.

“I, uh, used to have a dog. German Shepherd. He got his back paw caught in a chain fence once and I had to bandage his leg and everythin’... Guess that’s the closest I ever got to bein’ a medic,” Ghost chuckled softly, unraveling the bandage and holding the end of it in place over your arm, using his other hand to begin wrapping it around you. 

“A dog, hm?” Now that piqued your interest. “I wouldn’t have guessed you’d be a dog person.”

He shook his head. “Not really. More of a cat person, actually.”

“You’re joking,” you gasped. You tried to imagine Ghost with a cat cuddled up on his lap or chest.

“Cats get a bad rep,” he said. “I like that they’re independent and do their own thing most of the time. But they’re still sweet, they’ll still rub against you when you pet them and curl up next to you on the couch. They’re more stand-offish and brooding than dogs, I guess. But what’s so bad about that?”

“Sounds like someone else I know,” you whispered. Ghost locked eyes with you, and you could tell that his eyebrows were raised. He wasn’t sure whether to be offended or not. You continued, “But don’t worry. I really like cats, too. Misunderstood creatures. And cute.” You smiled at him, hoping to God he understood that you were trying to flirt with him. It was hard to tell, but you assumed by the way he chuckled softly and moved even closer to you to continue patching you up that he got it.

He placed his hand on your arm and ripped the bandage, placing the rest of the roll back into his kit. He repositioned the ending of the bandage so that it stuck on top of itself, keeping the wrapping in place without any need for medical tape. When his hands left your arm, you had to hold yourself back from frowning, already missing the skin-to-skin contact.

“Well, I think tha’ll do ya good, a’least until we get back, yeah?” Ghost said, leaning back from you a bit. Still, you noticed that the way you were sitting, your legs were still touching. 

“Thank you,” you placed your hand over the bandage, moving and flexing your arm to see how it felt.

Ghost got up from the ground and began putting his jacket and tactical vest back on. He walked a few steps across the room where he had leaned his rifle up against a dusty table. Rummaging through his vest for some ammo, he began reloading his gun and humming ever so softly to himself. You watched him, your cheeks tingling with warmth. As much as you wanted to get back to base, you also didn’t want to leave this moment. You doubted that anyone else had the privilege to see him like this. In Ghost’s world, watching him reloading his gun was probably the most domestic thing you would ever be able to watch him do. When he finished, he turned and looked at you, completely catching you staring. You saw slight motion under the mask—he had to be smiling. The thought made your heart race. But you cleared your throat and scrambled to your feet, turning around to pick up your jacket and tactical vest off of the ground. You zipped up your jacket, half turned away from Ghost, but feeling his eyes on you.

“Zero.” His gruff voice sent shivers down your spine. You turned around and met his gaze. Those hazel eyes.

“Yeah?”

“Glad you’re safe.”

Your heart raced. Ghost’s heart softened.

———

The flight back to the base landed in the early hours of the morning. The sun had barely started to rise, the sky a deep pinkish red as you and the rest of 141 walked back into the building. Gaz and Price had successfully breached the hatchery, clearing it out and finding evidence of tunnels underneath the lighthouse on the island. Laswell would talk to Shepherd and figure out a game plan, but at least for one night, you would be able to relax.

As soon as everyone reached back to the barracks, everyone scattered into their rooms to clean up, unpack, and get some shut eye. Despite it being early in the morning, everyone on 141 hadn’t slept for at least 24 hours. You took a quick shower and changed into something warm and comfy, falling asleep in your bed without any tossing and turning. You awoke later in the afternoon, around four o’clock, stomach grumbling. Your face lit up, remembering your arrangement with Ghost—Simon.

You put some shoes on and freshened yourself up in the mirror, suddenly feeling nervous and yet you were so excited. Walking into the common area, you opened one of the fridges and took out a pasta dish you had made the other day. You split the leftovers in half, putting it into two bowls and microwaving them. Humming to yourself, you realized that you were actually getting the thing you’d been wanting ever since you met him: true, one-on-one time with the brooding lieutenant. Since yesterday, your feelings towards him had only blossomed further, and from the way he had looked at you and leaned close to you, you had a little bit of hope that maybe he could feel the same. You felt like a giddy highschooler as you took the bowls out of the microwave and quickly grabbed some utensils from one of the drawers. When you spun around, you almost crashed into Price who was entering the kitchen area with Gaz.

“Oh, sorry, Captain! Didn’t see you there,” you apologized but swiftly moved past them, barely paying either of them any mind.

“Where’s she going in such a hurry?” Gaz asked, raising his eyebrow as you continued down the hall. Price gave him the same puzzled look back.

“Hey, Zero!” Price called. You spun around. “Where are you off to?”

“Oh, I’m just bringing some dinner to Simon’s room!” you lifted up your hands with the two bowls of food to show them. Price and Gaz nodded slowly, and you were clearly in a hurry because you hardly waited for either of them to reply before you turned back around.

You turned the corner at the end of the hall out of their view. Both men were still staring at where you were standing seconds before.

“I didn’t know he let people into his room,” Price said, grinning ear to ear.

Gaz stood frozen in place, “I… Did she just call him Simon?”

Price choked out in laughter.

[spacefrontier]

Images from the Apollo 15 Stand-up Extra-Vehicular Activity. July 30, 1971.

Two hours after the landing of Apollo 15, Commander Dave Scott and Lunar Module Pilot Jim Irwin depressurized Lunar Module Falcon and removed the top hatch and docking mechanism. Scott then stood on the ascent engine cover and surveyed their landing site ahead of their first seven hour extra-vehicular activity, EVA-1.

Scott took a 22-picture stereo panorama of the area, and then photographed targets of interest with a 500mm telephoto lens. Mission planners were concerned that the site was covered in large boulders that would make the area difficult to navigate with the Lunar Roving Vehicle, but Scott was able to confirm that there was nothing bigger than 6 to 8 inches near the LM.

30 minutes after opening the hatch, Scott re-entered, the hatch was closed, and Falcon was re-pressurized. The crew then entered a sleep period to rest up ahead of EVA-1.

Image 1: Apollo 15 landing site, with Bennett Hill in the distance. Note the LM Rendezvous Radar Antenna.

Image 2: Mons Hadley Delta, Silver Spur in the background.

Image 3: Telephoto image of Silver Spur.

Project Apollo Archive

[deansapplepie]

Till THE DEAD do us part | Chapter 3

A/N: This story will take place in all the seasons, but it’s not exactly a rewriting cause I’d have to re-watch everything to use the exactly lines of the characters, also I think it’s better if I tell a side story without changing the main facts of the story.

This story has a Female Reader, but I don’t describe her appearance, so anyone can identify with her.

Chapter 2 Chapter 4

Chapter 3: I’m sorry and Thank you

Summary: It’s time to bury their dead, take decisions and say goodbyes. The tension is thin in the camp and not everyone can control their emotions or how they deal with it. Hard decisions are made and a shot is take in hopes that everyone have a future. Y/N and Daryl have their first little fight in this one.

Warnings: swearing, death, violence, little angsty, fluffy, little mention of suicide that if you blink you’re gonna lose it, maybe some characters are ooc, idk 🤷🏼‍♀️

Pairing: Daryl Dixon x Grimes!Reader (Rick’s sister)

Word count: 4,179

Extra notes: I proofread the text, but English is not my first language, so feel free to correct any mistakes, of course with love.

Everybody started to work early, cleaning, reorganizing and getting rid of all the bodies. You needed to burry Amy, but Andrea would not let no one take care of her. You could imagine the pain she was feeling because you felt that too when you lost Rick. Amy was so young, she was sweet and gentle, she didn’t deserve it. No one deserved it.

You tried helping with whatever you could, unfortunately you were not strong enough to help carrying the body of the dead. So you were trying to make sure everyone had water to drink or something to eat, even if it’s just a little.

You were at good distance with Carl and Lori, helping them to put things in order, when you saw Rick holding a gun on Daryl’s head. Fuck. You walked the faster you could and put yourself between them. “What the hell is going on here?”

“Y/N, get out of the way.” Rick said, seeing you were not going to leave he lowered his gun. “He was going to kill Jim.”

“He was bitten! He’s a danger to everyone!” Daryl argumented, you turned around and looked at him.

“Jim is our friend, one of us… we can’t just kill him. We take care of him, he’ll eventually die and… when the time comes we… we do it.” You said, a little unsure of your own words, but that was what was the human thing to do.

“Never thought you were this dumb.” He almost spitted the words at you.

‘And I never thought you were an asshole.’ That’s what you wanted to say, but you didn’t, you just rolled your eyes at him and left. Things were under control, no one pointing guns at each other, your mission was done. That was a stupid fight and a stupid insult, but you couldn’t ignore the sting you felt at those words.

It didn’t take long for Amy to turn and Andrea have to kill her, it was heartbreaking to watch. When everything was over you had tears in the corners of your eyes. Also, you heard Carol had to kill Ed, you didn’t watch it, but you knew what it meant. Even if he was a human being, he was a monster… and now Carol and Sophia were free.

After that you buried your dead, while the zombies had already been put in fire. You said your goodbyes to Amy and hoped she was happy wherever she was. Everybody were going back to camp descending the hill, you passed through Daryl and gave him a look, that you didn’t know if it was sad, angry or upset.

“Ya defend not killing the living, but if ya could, ya would kill me right now.” Ok, so your look was the second option, angry. You just continued walking and ignored him. “ ‘m sorry.”

“Oh, I bet you are.” Sarcasm covered your words. “Maybe I’m dumb, but not SO dumb”

“I didn’t mean it. I was just angry.” He said walking by your side. “I was wrong, can we be good again? I hate how ya’re looking at me.” And he did, he could get those eyes from everyone and not give a fuck about it, but for some reason, a reason that he didn’t know, or didn’t want to admit, he couldn’t get that look from you.

You stopped and turned to him, you saw worry in him and that was not usual of him, not about the little you knew about him.

“Don’t do it again. Don’t call me that thing. It sounds silly, but…” ‘it brings back bad memories’, you were going to say, but didn’t have the courage.

“I’m never calling you that again. ‘m gonna think about other insults next time.” He tried a joke, and you tried to remain serious, but he could see the corners of your mouth curving a little while you battled against the smile. You hated that people would make you angry, but as soon as they wanted forgiveness, you would laugh or smile, instead of giving them the cold shoulder like normal people would do. Some said you had a good heart, but sometimes you thought you were a fool.

“Ok, Dixon. We’re friends again.” You said offering him your hand. He looked at your hand and thought for a moment. “Come on, shake my hand to seal it. I don’t have the whole day, if you don’t take it right now I’m going to…”

And he took it. He took your right hand in his and you were not expecting to feel this way to a simple handshake. His grip was firm, but comfortable. His hand calloused and warm, engulfed your hand that was so little compared to his. You felt comfort, protection and another feeling that you couldn’t describe, but made you lose your words.

“Ya’re going to what?” He still had a hold in your hand, maybe because you were holding his back and thinking about never letting go of his.

“Don’t matter. It’s done. We sealed our friendship, so I don’t need to threaten you anymore.” Reluctantly you let go of each others hands and continued to descend the hill.

“Oh, was that a threat? You don’t look threatening to me.” He mocked you.

“You better keep your eyes open D.” You answered liking the way his initial felt on your tongue and how it was said so easily. “I may look harmless, but I can be dangerous too.”

“Of course, as dangerous as a Puppy”

“Remember that puppies can bite and scratch.” You said lightly elbowing him.

“My clothes magically appeared clean and folded in my tent. It was you, wasn’t it?” He knew it was you, he just needed a way to talk about it and thank you.

“It was the least I could do…”

“Thank you.”

“It’s no problem D.”

Later that day, after a lot of discussion, was decided that everybody that want would go to CDC early in the morning. You were not sure if there would be anything there when you arrived, but you also knew you couldn’t just stay in the quarry forever, more walkers would come. You couldn’t risk losing more people. You slept in your tent with Luna to keep you company, at 3 in the morning you woke up and couldn’t sleep. You really tried, you were tired, but you were not able to sleep again. You turned around back and fort on your tent, until the sun started to rise.

So you changed your clothes, put everything you had on your bag and left the tent to start disassemble it. The thing was, you didn’t even know how to assemble it, Shane had done everything for you, so now you were having a hard time.

“Do ya wanna some help?” You heard Daryl’s voice by your side and you almost jumped out of your skin. “Sorry, didn’t wanna scare ya.”

“Please, I have no idea what I’m doing.” You confessed shamelessly. In fact he didn’t even waited for your answer to start helping you.

“I realized that from distance, anyone could see ya struggling from miles away.” He joked, but it was not completely a lie, your struggle was very clear.

“Well, Lucky me, you offered help.”

After everything was ready to go, you started to say goodbyes, Morales and his family decided not to follow with you. A stupid decision in your opinion, but there wasn’t anything you could do about.

“Y/N, Carol and Sophia are coming with us. Do you mind going with Shane?” Rick came to you right before living.

“Actually, I’m going with Daryl. I figured it’d be better for Carol and Sophia to go with you.” You answered taking both Rick and Daryl by surprise.

“Are ya?” Daryl didn’t have time to think before the words left his mouth, and then you gave him the look that told him to play along with you. “I offered ya early, but ya never gave me an answer. I thought ya weren’t going with me.”

“Of course I am! Daryl Dixon giving me a ride? This is a once in a lifetime opportunity.” You grabbed your bag to put it in Daryl’s truck, Rick gave you a knowing look. He knew you were avoiding Shane, he just didn’t know why, but he knew you too well to not notice. Also, he saw how Daryl was surprised. “Luna, are you coming with us or do you prefer going with Carl?”

“Nah, she’s coming with us. My offer is only open if she comes with us.” Daryl stated, and you couldn’t resist but laugh.

As soon as you hit the road, Luna was all over the place. She wanted to go for the window and feel the air with her tongue out like any normal dog. She sat on your lap, forgetting she isn’t a lap dog, and you needed to hold her just in case, because she tried a few times going to Daryl’s side and you were not dying by a stupid car accident in the middle of the apocalypse.

“So…why didn’t ya want to go with Shane?” Daryl threw the question at you after Luna had calmed down.

“Cause Luna wanted to go with you.” You gave the excuse shamelessly. He snorted to your lame excuse.

“Bullshit! Spill the real reason, that’s the least I get for playing along with ya.” He took a small glance at you and returned his attention to the road.

“Okay… never took you for one that likes gossip but…” he gave you an annoyed look as if to say ‘just say it’. “I had a fight with him, when you guys went to Atlanta. In front of the whole camp actually.”

“The bruise, in his face, was that ya?” He asked, looking at you for a brief moment, and you nodded in response. “I knew it. Couldn’t be a walker, it looked like something ya would do.”

“How did it look like something I’d do?” Did he take you for the type to go punching people around? Maybe he thought you were kind of a badass? No, not possible.

“The bruise is just the height you’d be able to punch, no way you could hit him on the eye.” Well, none of the options you guessed, he just stated you were short, which you really kind of was. But you couldn’t let it pass like this and gave him a light punch on his arm. “Easy Puppy, I’d rather die fighting zombies than in a car.”

“You just called me short!” you stated as a justification of why you lightly punched his arm.

“And didn’t lied.” He smirked and then put his right hand on Luna’s head for a brief moment. “Why did ya punch him?”

“He lied. He told us Rick was dead.” You answered and Daryl said nothing, probably thinking about what you said. “I mean, any idiot can see if a person is breathing and if the heart is beating.”

“Well, it’s Shane. He’s a different kind of idiot.” What was he probably trying to say? “Maybe, he didn’t knew the difference at the time. I’m not trying to defend him, I don’t like him, you know.”

“I know… it’s just… I’m angry.” You said. Funny, because Daryl had told you the same thing to you, but of course your fight was very silly compared to the reasons behind your quarrel with Shane. “Do you think I should talk to him?”

“Is it going to make ya feel better? If yes, do it.” He didn’t even had to think to say that and he didn’t like Shane at all. That was one of those moments where you saw how good he was, and you wish people would see through his rough demeanor. “Take a picture, it lasts longer.” You didn’t realize you were staring at him for a long time.

“Sorry, I was thinking about what you said.” That was not a complete lie, but not even half of the truth. “But I don’t need a picture if I can look at you everyday.”

You wanted to talk more, but you were tired, your half slept night was charging it’s price. You didn’t know when you slept, but after 2 hours you woke up the car was slowing down until stopping. Luna was laying in your lap awkwardly, half her body was on the car seat and her head was on Daryl’s lap.

“Morning Sleepyhead!” Daryl took a small glance at you.

“Hey… sorry, I didn’t want to sleep, but I was tired.” You ran your hands on Luna’s back. “Why are we stopping?”

“Don’t know, guess it’s a problem with the RV.” He took Luna’s head from his lap and talked to her as to a child, you didn’t even paid attention to what he was saying you just thought that was adorable.

You broke the moment putting a harness on Luna, so you could leave the car. As soon as you left the car your eyes found Shane and you decided to take the opportunity to talk to him.

“D., can you look after Luna for a little while?” You asked him, giving your best puppy eyes, without even noticing.

“Alright Pup, go and do what you need to do.” He said grumply taking the harness. “Go, before I regret it”

“Okay, thanks.” You gave a little smile and left in Shane’s direction.

When Shane saw you walking in his direction, he thought there would come trouble, because any moment you two talked, you would fight. He regretted all the fights, but it was as if he couldn’t control himself, in this world… he couldn’t be soft, gentle or unprepared. He couldn’t also let anything bad happen to the one’s he cared, even if he had to make some sacrifices along the way, and that was what scared him the most. He felt like he was losing his humanity and he didn’t see any other option.

“Shane, can we talk?” You finally approached him, expectations very high and afraid of the outcome.

“I don’t want to fight Y/N…” well, you didn’t want this too, but it didn’t depend only on you.

“Me neither. I just wanna my nice big bro Shane back, you know…” You said, eyes on the mark you had left on his left cheek. “I’m sorry, for the punch.”

“I probably deserved, a cop that can’t tell the difference between the dead and the living…”

“You were probably nervous, I can only imagine the chaos the hospital was and… and you said they were shooting everyone in there, you were probably also afraid.” You said and took his hand in yours. “I’m sorry, I was angry and shouldn’t have reacted like that.”

“I’m sorry, I have been an asshole lately.” He admited.

“Lately?” You mocked him. “Let’s be good again, I don’t punch you anymore and you don’t piss me off. You know, just like you and Rick, I grew up and I don’t need you to protect me from everything. You should be the cool big bro that encourage me to do reckless things that Rick wouldn’t want me to do.”

“Just like… hanging out with Daryl Dixon?” He suggested and he knew he was entering a delicate topic because you already fought before about it.

“Yeah, he’s a good person and my friend. You should encourage me to make other friends, the world went to shit and the people is all we got.” You chewed the inside of your cheeks hoping you would not start fighting again.

“You know, I only act like this, because I don’t want you in the same situation you had with Paul.” He confessed, and in part it was true, you were never the same after Paul, after all the psychological abuse. It took months for you to go back to your normal self, and a german shepherd puppy to make you smile and live again. But on the other hand, it was also his prejudice against the Dixon Brothers.

“I already told you, it’s not like this.”

“I see the way you look at him. It’s the same way you used to look at Jack Jones.” He stated, and you remembered your first crush at school. You never had the courage to tell him what you felt.

“I surely don’t, I’m no teenager and… hey maybe I could have avoided all this situation with Paul if I had told Jack how I felt…” You tried to deny, but you knew that maybe he was right… maybe you had a crush on Daryl. “Just let me live, please Shane? If I die tomorrow, I want to know I lived to the fullest. I don’t expect to find love or anything in a world like this, but I want to be with people I enjoy being with and protect the people I love.”

“Don’t say no sense. You’re not going to die, I’m not letting you die.” He stated. “It’s ok, you can be friends or more than friends with whoever you want, but let me know if anyone hurt you…”

“Thank you Shane.” You hugged him tightly. “And please… let go of Lori, you’ll only hurt you and her. I say it, because we’re family and I love you.”

You left his embrace and you saw the hurt and sadness in his face, maybe a little anger too, but you hope he would not blame you for this and listen to your advice.

“Go to your boyfriend before he comes here and kill me.” Shane played after he saw the way Daryl was looking at the both of you.

“Shut up Shane!” You gave him a punch on his arm before you left.

“By the way, I’m proud of your punchs, you really learned how to beat someone properly.” He kind of yelled at you, and you just laughed. Well they really taught you how to beat someone and how to make it as painful as possible.

After that Shane left with T.Dog to try finding replacement parts for the RV. You go to Daryl and take Luna from him, you could not ask for him to do more than he already did. “Thank you.” You told him.

“ ‘s nothing. It’s always good to pass some time with Luna.” He replied taking a cigarette and lightening it. His curiosity taking the better of him. “Are ya feeling better?”

“Yes, I guess. Things went well. Thank you for the advice.”

Jim was getting worse over the time, you thought he would not make it to the CDC and in truth, you knew nobody survived from a bite, you never saw one single person survive it. Rick was new to all this shit, so he had hope, but you knew Jim would not make it and that nobody could in fact help him.

The RV was fixed, but now you got another problem, Jim was bad and he had decided to stay behind. Rick tried to convince him otherwise, but he had made his choice and you should all respect. It was sad leaving him behind, but you couldn’t stop any more time, you needed to keep going. You entered Daryl’s truck, a heavy silence following the both of you. He started the car, his forehead frowned and the eyes on the road. You could feel he regretted his actions towards Jim.

“You were not completely wrong.” You finally said taking him by surprise. “You just had the wrong approach.”

Silence. Not the comfortable one.

“The most compassionate thing to do in a world like this, would be to not let the people we like turn into one of those…”

“Why?” He asked, eyes on the road, not even giving a glance at you. Your were took by surprise and didn’t know what he meant. “Why are you telling me this?”

“Because this whole situation made me think and… I know you have your own thoughts about it too. We can’t be so radical, but we should think about doing something to not let each other turn.” You wanted to look at him, you wanted to hold his hand, but you couldn’t, you knew you had crossed lines when you told him those things. You didn’t even know if he considered you a friend that could discuss this kind of things and tell when someone is wrong or right.

“Yeah, ya know a lot of shit.” The bitter comment left his mouth seconds after what you said.

“Daryl, if I ever get bit, I want you to end it for me.” You didn’t know what made you say it, but you just ignored his comment and threw this bomb on him. He almost hit the brakes the moment the words left your mouth.

“What the fuck?!” He cursed. “Don’t ask me something like that. Yar not getting bitten.”

“You don’t know.” Seeing Jim like this made you think. You didn’t want to die alone, you didn’t want to turn, you didn’t had the courage to do it yourself and you didn’t want Rick, Shane, Lori or ,in the worst scenario, Carl to do this. “Promise me”

“I ain’t promising you shit!” He didn’t understand why he got so angry at what you said and asked, it should be something normal to ask each other in a damn Zombie apocalypse. But the thought of you getting bitten… it bothered him in more ways that he could admit. “Stop talking no sense. We’re not losing anyone else to those fuckers.”

“I’m sorry.” Apologizing were becoming and habit that you didn’t want to keep, but how could you stop when you were afraid you hurt people.

“Ya don’t need to be.” He answered than he looked at you for some seconds before landing his eyes on the road again.

You decided against opening your mouth again, you pet Luna’s back and stared out of the window. When you were not looking Daryl stared at you for a little longer than what he should while driving. He over reacted, he knew it. He could not be good with his feelings and also short tempered, but he knew when he let it took the best of him. He had already lost Merle, he knew he was alive, but he was alone. Again. That wasn’t the first time Merle let him alone, and he didn’t know how it affected and made Daryl feel. In a world so big like this, maybe they’d never see each other again and he would never know. At the moment, you were the only friend he had. Could he call you a friend? And even though, there was other people that were polite to him, you were the only one that would talk more than 2 words to him. Not that he made a big effort to have a conversation to others, but you seemed to not care his short answers. The thought of you being bitten and he being left alone again, felt as if a giant rock was put on his chest. He didn’t like all this thoughts, but he couldn’t just stop them. His right hand went to Luna’s head that once again was on his lap, and he could not help but grow fond of the dog.

It was almost night when you arrived at the CDC. The place was a cemitery, there were bodies everywhere and some walkers too. You all got our of the cars and went to the entrance of CDC. All was closed, with heavy strong metal doors. You knocked, called, pleaded but there was no answer. Some started to not believe anymore on the possibility of the CDC having someone in there, but you couldn’t stop believing. You were already there, it was getting dark and it was not safe being outside. When you had lost hope, Rick saw the camera moving and you continued asking for help until the big metal door opened and you could see the big iluminated hall inside the building. You filled your lungs with hope and could breath relieved that you would have a place to stay.

Final Note: Thanks for everyone reading, liking, reblogging and commenting, it’s really good to receive your feedback.

Taglist: @sunnybunnyy2

[jennelikejennay]

Philon Awards nominations close in three days!

I have no idea how many people are even submitting nominations for these, but anybody can, and since a work only needs (I think) three nominations to make the shortlist, it's a chance to get fics you loved in front of more people. Here are the details.

I got mine in today and really struggled, to be honest. There has been a LOT of good k/s fic in the past year and I have read SO MUCH of it. So instead of telling y'all which ones I nominated, I'm going to share my whole shortlist...in the hopes that some of you nominate the ones I couldn't!

For the short (under 10k) fic category:

And Filled With Tomorrows, by AndroidAndAle: just a soft and sweet City on the Edge of Tomorrow fic.

Gonna Show Her Life on Earth Can Be Sweet, by thembonesthembones: very smutty with weird biology. You know me. Sweet Talk, by CampySpaceSlime: the invention of infodumping kink. Deny, Deny, Deny by Maelstrom: Spock pretends he doesn't like sex and Jim has to make him admit it Beyond repair, by spirkme: just them comforting each other after an away mission gone wrong leaves them both traumatized

I'm a big name in deep space (ask your mates) by cicak: this starts off the amazing series Where One Man Has Gone Before. I would rec them all, but probably easiest to start at the beginning.

Long fic (10k-50k)

When in Paradise, by flipthebits: infiltrating a cult has never been so accurate

Wanna be the one that you wanna see, by Affixjoy: sex pollen over and over again till they figure things out

Bells on a Hill, by flippyspoon: maybe the sweetest pon farr fic ever?

Way From Within, by gunstreet: the SNW timeloop story

Please don't take him just because you can, by spaceisgay: why yes it IS based on Jolene, and it's full of telepathy

Novel length (50k+)

I Shall Do Neither, by OnWhatCaptain: do you like crying? this story will torture you but it's so so good

Bodyguard by BurningAmber: an AU where Spock is Jim's bodyguard and there's a big telepathic cat thing

Anodyne by Lizzie0305: a really long and hot pon farr fic

Of Trees and Telepathy by StupidCat: weird aliens and telepathic trees, what's not to like Regulatory Relations by indeedcaptain: Kirk and Spock get married for convenience. Next thing you know things are getting incredibly deep and heavy.

Quell the Cosmic Tides, by Plus3Charisma: at the end of the second AOS movie, Jim suddenly travels back in time to his first day at the Academy. He's driven to do better this time around. Self Recs:

Here are a few I wrote in the past year that are eligible.

Short fic

The Sight of a Touch, or the Scent of a Sound: the "telepathy is like synesthesia" fic

Medium length

Another of Devotion's Casualties: probably my favorite fic I ever wrote; an examination of warrior bonds and devotion

Novel length

Personally I would recommend The Recitation of Names, which is a prequel to the TOS episode Obsession.

But a lot of people told me they liked The Exiles better, which is where I took the 2009 movie and made it so much worse. People find it emotionally cathartic and uplifting though? Whether you nominate or not, hopefully this provides some good reading for a while!

[geminiwritten]

because why ; bones

fandom: star trek

pairing: bones x reader

summary: after five long years of pining for the doctor and a whole month of him acting weirdly distant you finally decide to go on a date, but when you get called in for your routine medical you end up finding out exactly why bones has been acting so strange

notes: i kind of like this even though it’s a bit messy, but i think i’m finally getting through my writer’s block! let me know what you think!

word count: 3958

“He asked you out?” Nyota gasps and turns to face you, abandoning the control panel she was previously very focused on.

You scowl, “keep your voice down, but yes, he asked me out.”

“Who asked you out?” Jim asks, appearing beside you.

“Great,” you sigh as Nyota offers an apologetic smile. You turn to your captain, “Finn asked me out.”

“The new nurse?” he queries, and you nod. “I’ve heard he’s pretty hot.”

“And tall,” Nyota says, a smirk on her lips.

You roll your eyes, “and a good nurse, and a nice guy.”

Jim chuckles, “you don’t have to justify yourself to me, we all need to get laid.”

You stand abruptly and smack him on the shoulder, “I’m not trying to get laid, I’m just going on a date with a nice guy, and if- well, I mean, I wouldn’t say no.”

“Been a while?” he asks, still giggling with a stupid grin on his face.

You sigh, “yes, Jim, it’s been a while.”

“Been a while since what?” Leonard asks as he comes up behind Jim, his PADD in hand.

Your cheeks burn and you lock eyes with Jim, a silent plea for him to – for once – keep his mouth shut.

“Since Y/N has been on a date,” he replies, and you let out a small breath of relief.

“Well, that’s a little hard to believe,” Bones says, at which point Nyota turns once again from her control panel.

“Why’s that, Doctor?” she asks.

He finally looks up, his gaze lingering on you before quickly averting to Nyota. “From what I’ve heard, she gets plenty of male attention,” he says before returning his attention to his PADD.

Jim and Nyota glance at you, and you can feel your cheeks burn even hotter. “Not from anyone that matters,” you turn on your heel and storm toward the door, almost stumbling in frustration as you exit the bridge.

You’ve known Bones for five years, meeting him mere minutes after Jim tried – and failed – to hit on you during a medical lab back at the academy, quickly realising that you were far more interested in the doctor who was TA for that lab than the soon-to-be-captain himself. And you’ve been hopelessly in love with him for just over four of those years, realising it yourself one drunken night when he treated your wounds after you tried – and failed – to jump one of the stone walls that separated your cadet’s accommodation building from theirs. It was all down hill from there, and despite your best efforts to get over it, you’ve spent the better part of the past four years resenting every woman that Bones has done as little as have a conversation with. It was exhausting, but you were too afraid to do anything about it for fear of ruining the friendship, which in the past month has been more strained than ever. You don’t know what exactly has happened, but since stopping at one of the Federation’s starbases for resupply and to pick up a new division of recruits, Bones has been distant, and it’s killing you.

Your feet hurt from stomping by the time you reach your quarters, and you’re more than relieved to shed your shoes and uniform before sprawling out on your bed. Focus on Finn, you told yourself, rolling onto your side and gazing at your open wardrobe to begin thinking of what you should wear on your date. It was always risky going on dates while aboard the Enterprise on her extended mission in deep space, but after several advances from the handsome new nurse, Nyota convinced you to try and move on from the doctor, so agreed to one date. You weren’t optimistic about it, but you rarely were about anything when it came to dating, not after four years of painful disappointment.

Eventually, you find the energy to shower and change into one of the few dresses you brought with you aboard; a short-sleeved, black wrap dress with a deep v-neckline that was a little bit sheer. You could still faintly see your bra underneath, but you decided that with the dim lighting on the ship at night, it didn’t really matter. The only shoes you have that aren’t steel-capped boots for your shifts down in engineering or black lace-ups for your shifts on the bridge, are plain black sneakers. They will have to do.

The crew lounge is located on the deck below the cafeteria, fit out with dozens of rounded blue sofas and a huge bar lining the back wall. There are small private rooms that were most likely built in for the sole purpose of onboard dates, and the whole level is dimly lit with huge floor to ceiling windows to display the dark expanse of outer space surrounding the ship. It’s one of your favourite places, primarily because you often end up here with Jim and Bones, and a few of the other crew members, after particularly long or stressful days.

Finn is already seated in one of the private rooms, but you decide that it would be best to help yourself to a drink before joining him, so you make a b-line for the bar. You quickly take a sneaky shot before pouring yourself a glass of something blue that smells like bubble-gum and making your way toward your date.

“Hey,” you say, sinking onto the sofa opposite him.

He looks a little tired, but perks up immediately at the sight of you, “hey, you look gorgeous.”

“Thanks,” you sip your drink, trying not to acknowledge the fact that the butterflies in your stomach are dormant, unlike when you receive the occasional and far less obvious compliment from Bones. Damnit.

“How was your day?”

You shrug, “the usual, long shift but Jim needed me on the bridge so at least I wasn’t elbow deep in some possibly radioactive warp core part.”

He chuckles, “you are the backbone of this ship.”

“Scotty would disagree,” you sip your drink again, “but thanks. How was your day?”

He groans, “awful, Dr. McCoy has been riding my ass since I got here, but this afternoon was just a whole new level of crap.”

“Oh,” you frown, “how so?”

“I don’t know, I just don’t think he likes me much, but he’s got me doing all the routine check ups and paperwork that no one else has time for. He came in right as I was due to finish and told me to do inventory on every medical cupboard aboard the ship.”

“That’s ridiculous,” you say, before realising your glass is empty.

“Yeah,” he sighs, “I was so sure he was going to make me stay back tonight so I told him I had a date and he just stormed off, muttering something about how ‘I don’t deserve it’. I think he means being on the Enterprise, but he hardly even knows me, I just don’t get it.”

You try to come up with something supportive to say, but all you can think about is the doctor, so you stand up with your glass in hand. “Another drink, then?”

He chuckles and tilts his still-full glass, “sure, why not?”

You hurry to the bar and take another shot of the blue liquid before pouring two full glasses mixed with whatever clear soda is in the fridge.

“I’m sorry about McCoy,” you say as you return to your seat, “he can come off as a bit of a-”

“Jerk?”

“I was going to say hard-ass,” you take a generous sip of your new drink, “but he gets better once you get to know him.” And fall in love with him, you refrain from adding.

“You’re good friends with him, right?” Finn asks, and you nod. “I don’t want to overstep here, but do you think you could talk to him, or even the captain? I know you’re close with him too.”

Your stomach drops, “oh, I- uh-”

“I mean, you don’t have to if it’s weird, I just-” he sighs again, “I just really want to keep this assignment, this ship is great and… well, now I’ve met you. I think having to leave might break my heart.”

He chuckles awkwardly at your dumbfounded expression. His heart? You don’t even know this guy’s last name.

“I’d love to help you out, but McCoy has been a little weird with me this last month too,” you say, “he might just be having a hard time. I’m sure he’ll warm up to you.”

“Yeah,” Finn finishes his first drink in one gulp, “hopefully.”

The rest of the night passes with pleasant conversation, and only the occasional awkward pause, but after several hours and probably one-too-many drinks, you both decide to call it a night. He walks with you back toward the lift and only when he neglects to press the button to his own level of residence do you begin to worry about what he might be expecting.

“When’s your next day off?” he asks, following you out of the lift and into the bright white corridor.

“Two days from now,” you reply, “I have three off because I’m needed planet-side at our next stop.”

He grins, “that’s great, me too.”

“Which part?”

He chuckles, and you slow your steps as you reach your door. “I have three off,” he says, “did you want to do this again? Maybe we can watch an old movie, I have a few on the computer in my room.”

“Oh,” you rock back on your heels, “I-I guess, I mean, if I don’t end up on call or anything.”

“Great, I can’t wait.”

The door to your quarters slides open when you swipe your key, and you look back at him trying your best not to appear inviting. Before you can bid him goodbye, he leans down and presses his mouth against yours. It’s so quick and so sudden, that you barely have time to respond before he pulls back, his cheeks pink.

“Goodnight, Y/N.”

You do your best to smile, “Night.”

When he turns his back to you is when you notice another person in the hall, standing midway between you and the lift with a harsh scowl set between his brows. Leonard. Your heart leaps up into your throat, and you can suddenly taste every drink you’ve had tonight as your stomach does an acrobatic rendition of the tango, determined to expel every drop of alcohol within it. You rush into your room and into the bathroom, reaching the sink before the toilet and hurling every blue, green, and purple drink you had drunk into it.

You’re surprised to be woken by your alarm in the morning, since you usually wake up several minutes before it. The lights in your room blink on and your head begins to pound. Great. You brush your teeth, shower, and dress just as you do every morning, but the knot in your stomach is heavy and insistent on reminding you of every detail of last night.

As you’re making your way down to engineering, and thankfully not the bridge, your comm whistles. “Captain,” you say, knowing it would be Jim.

“Morning Y/N,” his voice replies, “would you be so kind as to report to the bridge immediately?”

You sigh as you step into the lift, “roger that.”

The bridge is quiet and absent of the doctor, much to your relief, but Jim is wearing his signature smirk which makes your pulse race nervously. “What do you want?”

He chuckles, “that is no way to address your captain.”

Your roll your eyes, refusing to correct yourself.

“Anyway,” he says, and you follow him as he moves toward his chair, “how was last night?”

“Are you serious?”

“Dead serious.”

Nyota stands from her station and approaches with a mischievous smile, “I would also like to hear about last night.”

You sigh, “it was pleasant.”

“And?” Jim prompts.

“And what?”

“The kiss,” he says, his grin stretching from ear to ear.

Your stomach just about falls out of your ass. “Bones told you?”

“Bones knows?” Nyota gasps.

“He saw us,” you tell her.

“He saw you?”

“On his way to his room,” Jim clarifies, and Nyota gasps again.

“When the hell did he have the time to fill you in?” you demand.

The captain shrugs, “none of your business, gorgeous.”

You groan, “that’s just great, thanks.”

He stands and grabs your shoulder before you can turn away, suddenly concerned, “what’s wrong? I thought you liked this guy.”

Why the fuck is Jim playing dumb? It’s not as if he’s been totally clueless all these years, and just because he swore to stop meddling after a full two years of scheming to try and get you two together doesn’t mean he isn’t still fully aware of your feelings for the doctor.

“I never liked this guy, Jim,” you say, keeping your voice low, “I just wanted to try and get over that stupid-”

Jim’s comm beeps. “Bones?” he answers it, offering you an apologetic smile before turning away. “Okay… I’ll send her down now.”

He turns back to you, “you’re due for a medical.”

You frown, “right now?”

He nods.

“Why couldn’t he tell her that himself?” Nyota asks, wearing her own indignant frown.

Jim sighs as his comm beeps again. “I’m sorry, Y/N, just… please? We’ll talk later, I promise.” He turns toward his chair again and takes a seat before answering the call.

Nyota grabs your arm, “are you going to be okay?”

“Yeah, fine,” you reply, “I’m pretty sure Finn is doing routines right now, so at least I won’t have to deal with him.”

You arrive a the MedBay only a few minutes later, somewhat relieved to find Finn sorting through a cart beside an empty bed. “Hey,” you sit on the edge of the bed, “I got called in for my routine, is that you?”

His face lights up with a boyish grin, “Oh, I didn’t know you were scheduled for today, but yeah, I’m doing-”

“No you’re not Jenkins,” Leonard interrupts, startling you as he appears with his usual frown in place, “I need that inventory list by the end of the week.”

“But you said-”

“Inventory, now.”

“Okay,” Finn sighs, his expression sour, “I’ll see you later, Y/N.”

You nod and swallow on the lump in your throat, watching him leave before turning to the grumpy man in front of you. “Hey, Bones,” your voice comes out quieter than you intended.

“This won’t take long, follow me,” he doesn’t even bother making eye contact with you before turning toward one of the private rooms at the back of the MedBay.

You want to say something, confront him maybe? But instead, you follow quietly and take a seat on the bed in the room as he closes the door without even glancing up from his PADD.

“How have you been feeling lately?” he asks.

“Fantastic,” you reply, your tone dripping with sarcasm.

He ignores it. “Any unusual pain, headaches, or nausea?”

“Aside from last night, nope.”

He finally looks up, his hazel eyes sending the butterflies in your stomach into a frenzy. “Last night?”

You curse internally as you reply, “I- uh, I threw up but… I had a bit to drink.”

The way his gaze affects you is almost pathetic. Fire blazes through your veins, heating every inch of your skin and undoubtedly turning your cheeks bright red. You’re not sure if it’s Leonard-withdrawals or simply because you had a whole month’s reprieve of the way he makes you feel, but it suddenly feels like you might actually die if you have to stay away from this man.

“Right,” he shakes his head and returns his attention to his PADD, “have you had any adverse reactions to any food or drink, aside from alcohol, in the past couple months.”

You shake your head.

“Any accidents or minor injuries while on shift that didn’t require a visit to MedBay?”

You scoff, “seriously? Bones, I work in the engine room with Keenser and Scotty, I couldn’t possibly document every cut and scrape I get.”

He raises a brow, “have any of these cuts or scrapes taken an abnormally long time to heal?”

You shake your head again, “no.”

He nods once before continuing, “and when was your last routine check-up?”

“You would know better than I would.”

He sighs and taps on his PADD before muttering, “six months ago.”

You nod, “that sounds about right.”

“One last question and then the physical, are you- uh, comfortable with me performing the-”

“Yes,” you reply, before even thinking about how eager you sound, but you can swear you see his cheeks turn a light shade of pink.

He clears his throat, “are you sexually active?”

You can’t stop yourself from giggling, “no, I’m not.”

“Really?” he asks before he can stop himself.

“Really.”

A moment passes where neither of you dare to even breathe. His frown remains but its more curious than anything, and you feel as if the air between you has turned into a heavy and electrically charged storm cloud.

“Okay, uh,” he puts his PADD down and picks up a tricorder, “physical.”

You straighten instinctively as he approaches you and begins scanning your body. “So,” you say, keeping your eyes on anything but him, “how have you been?”

“Fine,” he mutters.

“You sure?” you know you shouldn’t go on, but this is the first time in over a month that you’ve been alone with him, “because it’s been a while since we’ve hung out.”

“I’ve been busy.”

Frustration bubbles up inside of you. “Yeah, bullying cadets,” you mumble.

He pauses, “what was that, darlin’?”

Usually, that nickname would make your head spin but the way he says it now almost makes you shudder. “Nothing, I just-”

“If you’ve got something to say, then by all means,” he steps back, “say it.”

You’ve never experienced this side of Bones. Sure, you’ve seen it, more often than not when he would chase off any unwanted advances from random men on the nights that Jim would force you all to go out clubbing, but you haven’t ever been on this side of it.

You clear your throat, “I just think you should be nicer to the new recruits, that’s all.”

“Nicer?” he scoffs, “I’m a doctor, not a babysitter. If they can’t handle the pressure, then they shouldn’t be on this ship.”

“It isn’t about babying them, Leonard, it’s called being polite,” you grip the edges of the bed, “and being a mentor that they can trust.”

He crosses his arms over his chest, “you don’t think I’m trustworthy?”

“That’s not what I said,” you bite back, “I know you’re trustworthy, but I also know you’re a-”

“A what?”

Frustration ripples through you in hot waves and you have to stand, even though it gives you absolutely no physical advantage. “A jerk.”

“Oh, you think I’m a jerk now?”

“I didn’t until five seconds ago, I-” you stop yourself before you can say something you’ll totally regret.

Bones huffs and drops the tricorder much harder than necessary on the bench. “Look, I don’t know what your little boyfriend has been telling you but-”

“Boyfriend?” its your turn to cross your arms, “first of all, he’s not my boyfriend, and secondly, don’t patronise me. I’m not one of your subordinates, I’m not even one of your crewmates, I’m- well, I thought I was one of your best friends.”

“Well, maybe I don’t want you to be one of my best friends,” he snaps.

Your heart sinks, all the way down into your stomach, making you nauseous. “What?”

He sighs, “Damnit, Y/N, I didn’t mean it like that.”

It takes all of your strength to keep from crying, “no, Len, it’s fine. I get it, you’ve made it perfectly clear over the past month how you feel about me.”

“I’ve made it clear?” he steps between you and the door, preventing your escape, “I’m not the one who has been pretending to visit you on shift, just to flirt with one of your damn subordinates.”

Your eyes grow wide, “you think that’s why I come in here? You think I actually give enough of a shit about that cadet to spend my whole break, every day in the fucking MedBay?”

“I think?” he exclaims, “I know, Y/N, I’ve seen you here every day!”

“Yeah, every day, Leonard!” you shout, fully aware that the whole MedBay is probably hearing your argument, “not just this past month, every damn day that we’ve been on this ship!”

He takes a deep breath, readying himself to shout right back, but he stops and frowns. “Every day?”

“Every day,” you repeat.

He sighs, his whole body relaxing, “why?”

“Because I-” you hesitate, “i-it doesn’t matter. I’ll stop visiting if that’s what you want.”

“Because why?”

“It doesn’t matter,” you move toward the door again, but he blocks your path once more.

“Because why?” he presses.

“Because you, Len,” you exclaim, “because I’m in love with you!”

The room is suddenly quiet, and all you can hear is each other’s breath. Only then do you realise that you lost the battle with your tears, and your cheeks are damp.

“You’re… in love… with me?” he repeats quietly, his eyes searching for anything to look at that isn’t you.

“Yes,” you sigh, “now you got what you wanted, can I please leave?”

He doesn’t budge, “no, that’s not all I want.”

You frown, “what? You want what’s left of my dignity, too?”

He shakes his head, stepping closer, “I want all of you.”

You barely have time to process his words before his lips are on yours and you knees give out beneath you. His arms circle your waist and hold you up, pressing your body against his in the way you’ve dreamed of countless times. The only thing your brain can do is scream, and if your mouth wasn’t so busy, you’re almost positive it would be audible.

When he pulls away, its only because oxygen is absolutely necessary. “I’m in love with you,” he whispers between breaths, “I love you.”

Your head finally stops spinning, and you blink up at him, “what?”

“I love you.”

“Why?”

He chuckles, “because you’re fucking incredible, darlin’.”

He worries for half a second before a grin breaks across your face and you press your forehead against his chest, giggling. “Four years, Len.”

“Four years?” he echoes.

“I have been waiting for four years for this,” you speak into his shirt, unable to stop the mirth bubbling from your lips.

“You’re kidding,” he laughs again, and you can feel it vibrate through his body, “me too.”

You look up at him, “what?”

“Jim tried to tell me too, and I didn’t listen to him.”

“Jim, what?” you snap, immediately thinking of a thousand different ways you were going to kick your captain’s butt.

“He tried to tell me that you liked me,” he says, “several times actually, and I-”

“I’m going to kill him,” you make a move toward the door but Leonard doesn’t let you leave his arms.

“Hold on, darlin’,” he holds your chin between his thumb and forefinger, “we can kill him later, but right now,” he glances at the bed behind you, “we should really finish that physical exam.”

You have to bite your lip to keep from grinning too wide, so you nod instead of speaking. He smirks, and you can swear your heart stops, before he leans down and captures your mouth with his. He swipes his tongue across your bottom lip, coaxing it from between your own teeth and drawing it between his, biting down just enough to elicit a soft whimper from your throat.

END.

[pryzzm]

jokes on you Idiots he already knows

[celestialvoyeur]

💛💙SPIRK FIC REC💙💛

This is another amazing duo of fics ('Bells on a hill' and 'I want to hold your hand') by @flippyspoon.

Our favourite SNW boys get themselves in a pickle (what's new) when Spock is faced with the onset of Pon Farr and Jim offers to be his partner to get him through it. Jim is expecting a good time with the guy he has a massive crush on, but things become much more intense than either of them expected. In the immediate aftermath, and still reeling from the unexpected revelations of their time in seclusion, Jim is called back to the Farragut for an emergency away mission to an icy planet. It quickly becomes apparent that separating so soon was a terrible idea!

If you enjoy the "oops we bonded" trope then you can't do much better than these two fics 🥰

[lichqueenlibrarian]

Time for Yesterday gave me so much to chew on.

I don’t really want to spoil it if anyone is intending to read it (or bore anyone if they don’t) so thoughts about the book under the cut.

From the book’s summary:

Time in the galaxy has stopped running its normal course. That can only mean one thing -- the Guardian of Forever is malfunctioning. To save the universe, Starfleet command reunites three of its most legendary figures -- Admiral James T. Kirk, Spock of Vulcan, and Dr. Leonard McCoy -- and sends them on a desperate mission to contact the Guardian, a journey that ultimately takes them 5,000 years into the past. They must find Spock's son Zar once again -- and bring him back to their time to telepathically communicate the Guardian.

But Zar is enmeshed in troubles of his own, and soon Kirk, Spock and McCoy find themselves in a desperate struggle to save both their world -- and his!

One of the things I did enjoy was the change in Spock’s characterisation; he was softer but not in a way that felt forced- the story takes place after The Motion Picture and Deep Domain (which put Jim back on Earth at Starfleet HQ at the book’s end) so not only is Spock older, you get the feeling that he’s been doing a lot of thinking since the last time he and Zar met. Spock outright says that the incident with Vejur caused him to reevaluate how he interacts with the universe, and with the people in it. He allows himself to connect a little more with others (he and D’berahan, the little esper they bring along to contact the Guardian get along quite well and have a very immediate friendship), and the book expands a bit on his friendship with Uhura, which I thought was lovely. The side plot with D’berahan, a member of a species that communicates solely through telepathy did make me wonder at the ease with which she and Spock spoke, it seemed much different than the way Spock uses words, and it occurred to me that you could probably consider telepathy Spock’s first language rather than Vulcan.

When they find that the world is in imminent danger of ending, Jim’s put into a conundrum- does he reach out to David knowing this could be his last chance, and in spite of what he promised Carol? Does he have the right to contact David, and does he chance causing David any distress? In the text it’s set up a bit as a counterpoint to Spock- they’re both estranged from their children for different reasons, and how do you cope with that? Jim’s also conflicted about having let Carol take sole responsibility for David, and his past willingness to accede to her desires. I think though, that Jim’s more in line with Zar than with Spock.

Zar has been leading his city, bringing them into prosperity with the help of the things he learned in the future. Unfortunately he’s on the brink of an unwinnable war that will wreck all that work, he’s not happy as the leader (preferring to teach), and having been widowed and lost his child twenty years prior hasn’t allowed himself to get close to anyone again. He’s also closer in age to Spock and Jim due to the vagaries of time travel. Zar wants to teach but can’t because of his responsibilities to the people and city. Jim would prefer to teach (he would see Spock more often, too and I’m sure that has nothing to do with anything) but can’t because he’s constantly getting bogged down in Starfleet business taking him over hill and dale. Zar is afraid to get close to anyone (including his new wife Wynn, high priestess of one of the clans allied against him) because he’s afraid of her possible death. However, he’s able to get over his fear and will be able to go back to teaching because Wynn is a capable and enthusiastic ruler herself, more than willing to take on ruling the city so that Zar can spend more time doing what he really loves.

I think the suggestion there is that what Jim’s really feeling the lack of is support and partnership. While Spock is able to meet Zar on a more even footing this time, able to express more of his honest feelings, and in the end to overcome his qualms and do something dramatic in order to save his son, Jim doesn’t really get the same payoff. Whether he goes to meet David isn’t resolved, and while the book ends with him resolving to be firm about taking on more teaching opportunities, there isn’t really a resolution for his emotional arc.

I really enjoyed Spock’s final trip into the past to help Zar. Prior to their marriage, Wynn prophesied that he would fall in battle and rise, and Spock saw in the Guardian’s records of the past that Zar sustains a brutal blow to the head that likely kills him. To prevent this, he takes off into the past with a lirpa and ahn-woon to try and save Zar. Along the way he encounters the hideousness of war in that era- there are some descriptions of the injured and dying that are kinda gross (viscera everywhere)- and I liked that this was shocking and nauseating to Spock. He also kills someone accidentally and feels guilt over it despite that person being the one who nearly murders Zar. At the end they pull off Wynn’s prophecy by using Spock’s resemblance to Zar and a bit of Jim’s dramatics to scare off the opposing armies.

The battle against the Originators was neat, mostly because McCoy gets harassed by an alien taking the form of his ex wife (despite knowing it’s not Jocelyn they immediately start bickering), while the one that targets Jim uses Winona’s recent death to try and hurt him. That Jim reacts to the alien’s taunting by saying his mother wouldn’t ever think those things and that he knows he did his best for her, while Spock reacts by getting angry and putting himself between Jim and the alien is… fascinating.

There were a lot of references to other books (MR NARAHT MY SON!!) which I did like, it gave the world a bit of heft rather than introducing a whole bunch of new people again.

I think the change in Jim from the show to the movies is so damn interesting, it’s one of my favourite parts of these books despite the focus being mostly on Spock.