#voyager fic

[terapsina]

Kathryn Janeway/Chakotay. Post-Voyager, return home. (If you’ve seen Prodigy pre-Prodigy before Chakotay receives his commission as Captain. If you’re up to it, lightly touching on the Chakotay and Seven of it all? Seven might have left for the Rangers at this point. It’s alright if that’s too much of a prompt!)

(okay, this will take place closer to Post-Voyager era than Pre-Prodigy era but does take place inside that frame of time. Also, I couldn't find any specific dates about when exactly Seven joined the Rangers so let's just assume here that it happened pretty soon after they returned home (for various reasons but mostly because I think Seven would have grown restless pretty quickly and also because I just can't imagine she and Chakotay lasted very long at all)).

-

ao3

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Chakotay and Kathryn were fine.

Completely fine. In comparison to the seven years aboard Voyager where they stayed at the constant edge of destruction, with the threat of losing all the souls aboard the ship that they were responsible for constantly biting at their heels, they were more than fine now.

They met for weekly dinners. They no longer argued because of the stress of their positions; because all they'd sacrificed of themselves had hollowed them out into a Captain and a First Officer and very little else. The frost that had grown in the cracks of their friendship had thawed during this past year home. They were sharing jokes again and enjoyed perfectly pleasant conversations in each other's company.

They discussed how their weeks had gone; and how Kathryn and him were adjusting to being home again. They talked about their sisters and shared whatever news they'd heard from the crew lately. Talked about the latest antics of Kathryn's two dogs - both the grand-pups of the Irish Setter she'd left behind on Earth when she'd been ordered to capture Chakotay an eternity ago. Mollie herself had lived only two months past the Voyager's return, Chakotay's heart still twinged remembering the way Kathryn had tried to keep up a strong face when she'd told him about the dog's passing.

They were fine. Really, they were better than they'd been in a really long time now.

Chakotay should have been happy about it, - and admittedly there was the relief that he hadn't lost Kathryn entirely. Their return to the Alpha Quadrant had given him his best friend back and...

...and Chakotay was miserable.

"You remember I told you how the voice reader for the replicator broke last week and I had to put it on manual? Well, Faba figured out this morning how to make the cursed thing spit out the last meal programmed in there, when I got home from Starfleet Command the entire kitchen floor was covered in dog food. You can't imagine the guilty looks on her and Capulus when they saw me." Kathryn's eyes danced with amusement as she took a sip of wine from her glass.

Chakotay's own lips pulled up at the corners, the initial moment entirely genuine because when Kathryn Janeway smiled the entire room brightened.

But the smile fell away a moment too quickly and ever observant, Kathryn noticed. "I'm sorry, Chakotay, I'm hogging the conversation this evening. You seem to have something on your mind?"

"No," he said, forcing forward another smile, hoping this one would better disguise his melancholy mood. "It's simply been a long week, I'm just tired, I think."

He saw Kathryn's eyes go to the timepiece hanging on the wall behind him and cursed himself for the chosen excuse. He didn't intend to make her think he was too tired for her company.

"It is getting late, I suppose I'll see you next week. Same time? Or do you have plans?" At the beginning of their post-return dinners, Chakotay had tried to read some kind of tightness in Kathryn's voice when she asked about his plans. Selfishly hoping for a sign that their implied existence might bother her, that there still existed traces of the feelings that years ago he'd been certain were there. But there was never anything except polite curiosity.

He was starting to suspect that whatever potential had been there had been destroyed by his stupidity and the very badly timed mid-life crisis that had tripped him just before the finish line.

"No plans," he told her and did his very best not to inquire after her own. He knew his question would be full of the unvoiced things lacking in hers.

"Speaking of, have you heard from Seven recently? She's been hard to get a hold of since she joined the Fenris Rangers."

"No," he said, avoiding Kathryn's eyes as he always did whenever she mentioned Seven of Nine now. He wished she'd stop. Or that she'd finally address the splinter he'd seen her ignoring for eleven months now. When Chakotay had told her that he and Seven had parted ways barely weeks after landing on Earth, she'd inquired if he was okay and revealed not a hint of emotion more. Not anger. Not relief. Not disappointment. Nothing. He might as well have been Harry Kim telling her how he'd broken up with one of the Delaney twins again. "But B'Elanna mentioned receiving a subspace message from her a few weeks ago so I wouldn't send out any alarms yet."

"Good." Kathryn smiled again, swallowing another deeper mouthful of the wine Chakotay had brought over earlier, and finishing the glass.

She wasn't as careful as usual though - being out of uniform and off the deck of the Voyager had made her freer in a number of tiny ways - and his eyes trailed a tiny spill of red as it escaped the corner of Kathryn's mouth and slid over her chin before gliding slowly down her neck.

Heat sliced clean through his lower stomach as he hastily averted his eyes, this time to hide the hunger that had no doubt visibly flashed across his face. Chakotay sent a silent thank you to the spirits of his ancestors for her eyes having remained closed while she enjoyed the last sip.

Maybe he really should start getting ready to leave.

Candlelight, wine, and Kathryn were not a combination that inspired all that much sanity in Chakotay. He'd thought he'd developed at least a partial immunity in the later years of their journey, as that brightly burning hope he'd cradled in his heart had eventually begun to be smothered by the innumerable trials and tribulations; by the thousand small cuts and steadily growing walls.

Of course, he'd pretty much found out exactly how wrong he was on that point the first time he'd seen her after the former members of the Maquis had received their official pardons from the Federation. When the entire crew had shown up to celebrate and he'd looked across the ballroom someone - probably Paris - had reserved for the event, when for the first time in years had seen Kathryn instead of Captain Janeway.

She'd been wearing a dark red dress that had hugged her front nearly like a second skin and let only air touch half her back. The dress had been tasteful and elegant of course, as anything Kathryn wore always was but Chakotay had known he was fucked the moment his eyes had landed on her. The feeling was yet to leave.

"Next week, then." He confirmed.

"Goodnight, Chakotay," Kathryn said and walked around the dinner table to give him a brief hug and a kiss on his cheek. His eyes slid closed at the singing sensation of her lips against his skin.

Right, that. If ever someone tried to convince him this woman didn't have a cruel bone in her body he might just have to point and laugh. Hysterically.

He opened his mouth to return the goodnight when something that had been steadily straining and stretching for months and months finally snapped.

"Are you ever going to forgive me, Kathryn?" he asked, exhaustion heavy in his voice and eyes still closed. He wasn't sure he could bear seeing her face if he was really starting this conversation.

"What?"

"I promised something to you once, and broke it just before it would have finally been time to fulfill it."

"You never promised me anything." And finally, he heard the tightness in Kathryn's voice he'd been looking for.

He opened his eyes and looked at her, letting her see all the things he'd shielded from her in the Delta Quadrant when showing them would have left his Captain bleeding.

"I did and you know I did, Kathryn. Never aloud because it would have hurt you to hear it. But we both knew."

And finally, finally, anger flashed like lightning in Kathryn's eyes.

"Why did it have to be Seven, Chakotay?"

"I don't know." And he didn't know. He'd asked himself that question a hundred times and never found a good answer. Not one that put him in any kind of good light anyway.

Male ego. Because a part of him had known that it would be the one way he'd actually be able to hurt Kathryn the way she'd been hurting him for years by then. Because he thought he couldn't hurt Kathryn at all and had to finally prove it to himself somehow. Because Seven had shown interest, and he'd been so very tired, and it could have been anyone at all. Because he'd been losing hope.

He didn't know.

"We were supposed to return to Earth together. You were supposed to be right beside me. It was supposed to--"

"I know. I'm sorry, Kathryn," Chakotay whispered and dared to wipe an angry tear from her face.

"And it's not like I had any right to feel--"

He smiled thinly. "And when I found you on Quarra I had no right to want to cave in Jaffen's face. Or that Irish hologram's. Or Q's."

And oh, how Chakotay had wanted to.

"I--" she looked startled like she hadn't suspected any of that. There was something nearly impressive about that, the crew certainly seemed to have steered clear of Chakotay for a solid week after every event where their captain had gotten courted by one alien or another.

Well, steered clear by everyone except Paris and Tuvok. And B'Elanna. But Paris had long since proven himself to be just a bit suicidal to a degree that had eventually earned him Chakotay's respect. And Tuvok was... well, Tuvok.

And B'Elanna just didn't count.

"I had no right. You had no right. But it hurt me, and then I hurt you. And I need to know if you're going to forgive me. Because it still hurts, Kathryn." He cupped the side of her face, barely letting his fingers graze her skin. "You're my best friend. And my partner for eight years now. And you're always going to be the love of my life. I will accept whatever answer you give me, even if you tell me that there's a part of you that's going to hate me forever. But please, Kathryn, I need to know."

Finished, Chakotay fell silent.

Kathryn stared at him with angry, anguished eyes. Then she closed them and Chakotay had to force himself not to shudder.

He could take whatever blow she threw. He'd survive it. Not entirely whole, maybe, but he would survive.

"There is an ancient legend among my people," she said, nearly entirely under her breath but Chakotay still felt the universe come to a stop; could feel the Earth itself halt in its spin. "It is about a Lonely Sea Captain who had lost her way in a storm, and to bring her people home she made a deal with the gods. She locked her heart in a wooden chest and promised them she would not open it until they reached shore. But there was a Brave Warrior aboard her ship too, who worried that without any heart at all the Lonely Sea Captain would be lost - and he was right, she would have been - so he gave her his heart to carry while her own was locked away. She wasn't always kind to that gifted heart, wasn't always careful with it, - and sometimes, sometimes she was afraid she'd lost it - but it gave her strength, and it gave her hope, and it brought her home."

"Is there really an ancient legend?" he whispered, barely daring to breathe. Caught in her gaze like a fly in a spider-silk web.

"No." Another tear began to slide down Kathryn's cheek. "But that made it easier to say."

Chakotay leaned forward and kissed that precious pearl of salt from her cheek.

"The Captain never lost her Warrior's heart," he assured her softly and waited patiently with his lips pressed into her cheek until she moved her head and kissed him.

---

(fun fact: Capulus is Latin for Coffee and Faba is Latin for Bean).

[cicaklah]

HAPPY THRESHOLD DAY!!!

fandom: threshold day

pairing: janeway/paris

rating: non-explicit (lizard) baby making & weird vibes

summary:

He’s the only being in history to have occupied every space simultaneously in the entire universe twice, and everyone is fixating on that he fell for the one person who knows what that feels like? Surely the gods fall for each other all the time. It can’t be that strange, if you think about it for a fucking minute.

tagged: Episode: s02e15 Threshold (Star Trek: Voyager), happy threshold day, Grief/Mourning, godhood, she's a little bit eldritch and he's a little bit fucked up, what if we were the only humans to ascend to godhood but also we were in starfleet?, a weird story but in a nice way, forgetting and remembering, Graffiti, the truth will be written on the toilet wall

---

ya girl can't help herself. have a weird story about the only two people to go to warp 10 fucking about it. also there's some stupid lower decks people in there, which is basically my signature at this point.

[fiadorable]

an ending unforseen - a snw/voyager crossover fic

🦾 Trektober 2023 Day Four - Other Trek Crossover

📖 As the cadet cruiser explodes around him, Fleet Captain Christopher Pike is transported 120 years into the future and yanked 70,000 lightyears away from the Alpha Quadrant, landing on a strange Federation ship stranded in the Delta Quadrant. Now it's up to the Voyager crew to send the wayward fleet captain back through time (and hopefully space) to preserve the timeline. In the meantime, Chris is fine. Just fine. Just chopping up some leola root in the mess hall and sharing a cup of joe with Captain Janeway in the wee hours of the night. Like you do when you're waiting to be sent back in time to relive a moment that's been haunting you for the last decade.

🤝 Christopher Pike & Kathryn Janeway

💜 Many thanks to @caladeniablue for the beta and encouragement

🎬 Rated L for leola root, C for coffee, and M for melancholy

📏 1656 words

🏷️ Leola Root,Coffee,Weird Purple Goo,Voyager Starter Pack,Cooking,Melancholy,Boyscout Flavored Recklessness,Strange New Worlds Starter Pack,Trek Crossover,Episode: s01 e01 Strange New Worlds,Episode: s01e10 A Quality of Mercy (Star Trek: Strange New Worlds),Angst

🟣 Read it on AO3 🟣

[elephant-in-the-pride-parade]

Tag Game: First 10 Lines Challenge

Thanks for tagging me, @curator-on-ao3 😘

The game is to share the first lines of the last 10 stories you wrote. So here goes!

1. “Set temporal coordinates.”

- Euridice - Rated E, Voyager fic, Year of Hell Unaltered Timeline (J/C, C/P, B/7, some J/P undercurrents too)

2. “So… you’ll take anything I offered, would you?” The Terran Captain’s voice was sultry, almost purring as she ran her tail up the inside of his leg.

- Lost in a Hall of Mirrors - Rated T, Prodigy fic, Threshold AU moment from Cracked Mirror (J/C)

3. Captains Log, Star Date 52160: We’re docked at the Berudian Orbital Shipyard today for much needed repairs after our experiment with slipstream technology. 

- Lost and Found - Rated T, Voyager fic for Maliciousalice Birthday, a Threshold AU story set in Season 5. (background J/C)

4. Captain Janeway held her breath as she ordered Kim to lock onto the single life sign in Val Jean ’s cockpit.

- Five Catches and a Fall - Rated T, Voyager Fic, five J/C oneshots spanning the series run.

5. The arrival home had been stressful on them all, but none more so than Kathryn  who had to submit to a barrage of tests from medical as part of their debriefing.

- Brumating in a Winter Wonderland - Rated T - Voyager fic - Threshold AU of the arrival home. (J/C)

6. Janeway looked longingly at her replicator as she got dressed for the day. - All the Little Things

- Rated G - Voyager fic - a J/C oneshot set early in the series.

7. How quickly things could change, Kathryn mused as she cradled her infant son Liam to her breast.

- For Just one Day Let's Only Think About Love - Rated T, Voyager Books fic - Threshold AU take on the ending of To Lose the Earth (J/C, background P/T)

8. “Ah Captain,” Jellico welcomed Tuvok into his office, gesturing for him to sit in the open chair, beside Commander Tysses. “Thank you for coming.”

  - The Timepast - Rated T - Prodigy fic - a Shakespeare-inspired farce AU of J/C's reunion and Chakotay's rescue. (J/C, D/G, Adreek/Tysses)

9. The roast was burnt, as usual, but that didn't bother him. In fact it was the very reason they now found themselves in this delightful situation...

- No Captain Here; No Commander Either - Rated E - Voyager fic - J/C smut.

10. It was a bad day to be Q. - Universe to Mend

- Rated M - Prodigy/Voyager Books fic - a novel set after To Lose the Earth, featuring Q, Pocket Full of Lies' Denzit Janeway, and Prodigy's Hologram Janeway on a new adventure. (J/Q and J/C)

Analysis: I tend to open with dialogue, with a characters thought or log, or with some kind of very quick statement about the setting. just throwing you right into the action usually. I'm kinda okay with that!

I'm gonna tag (and im sorry if i forget anyone) @trekflower @pc-corner @jellybeansarecool @emilie786 @divinemissem13 @theredheadedcaptain @nonadhesiveness @coffee-in-that-nebula @cnrothtrek if yall would like to play and anyone else who wants too, feel free to do your own!

[kitkatt0430]

So Voyager returns to the Alpha Quadrant, huzzah! Party time.

And Starfleet does throw a big party in their honor to welcome back. Very formal, lots of ambassadors, a lot of the Voyager crew is quietly bored with it thirty minutes in. Where's the fun in fancy hors d’oeuvres if you can't play 'guess the mystery ingredients from the most recent trade agreement/away mission?'

Anyway, the crew of the Enterprise is there because they're in their post-Dominion War Flag Waving era. And of course, Picard is expecting a number of things from a typical Starfleet party of very fancy standards. What he was not expecting was Q and Q Jr. to show up in a flash of light or for Jr. to throw his arms around the shoe-in-to-be-Admiral Janeway and exclaim 'Aunt Kathy! You made it home, and early too. That was cheating!"

Janeway sends the teenage looking Q to go hang out with Icheb, the quiet part-borg kid who has been strategically hiding in a corner with access to punch bowl and the nibbles with the most easily identifiable ingredients. Icheb proceeds to perk up and calls Q Jr. Q-Ball. Jr. calls him Itchy. Seven of Nine, who has been quietly shadowing Icheb and scowling in such a way that she has one yard of clearance on all sides at all times, unless a Voyager crew member or her aunt come over to talk to her, turns a very narrow-eyed gaze on Jr that the young Q is clearly unsettled by. (If he gets Icheb hurt again, no power on this plane of existence could save Q Jr. from Seven and he knows it.)

Q and Janeway watch fondly, chatting about the whereabouts of Lady Q and how the Continuum is doing lately and Janeway occasionally shutting down Q's attempts to flirt with her. For whatever reason, Janeway still agrees to dance with Q and laughs when he changes the music with a snap to something they can waltz to.

Picard is trying to figure out if he can sidle out one of the exits before Q notices him. As is basically the rest of the Enterprise lead staff. Finding out that Q made Janeway godmother to his son is quite possibly the most surreal part of the evening for Picard and that includes when Q gets bored with the music a few waltzes later and turns the whole thing into a disco.

Meanwhile Riker learns he was actually brought to Voyager by Q once and then made to forget it and is thus considered an honorary Voyager crew member along with Barclay. Riker decides he's cool with that and helps plan the after party with Tom and Harry. (He also tries to talk Harry into starting a jazz band with him.)

[bumblingbabooshka]

The worst trope in the universe is when someone accuses character A, who is part of a real or fantasy or coded minority, of doing something bad and everyone's like "That's just your prejudice against [real or fantasy minority]!" and it turns out character A actually did do that bad thing and everyone else was stupid for not believing they did that bad thing.

[leohtttbriar]

this episode starts from the point of view of the automated unit and then we see b'elanna's face her careful attention and then the voices of security and discovery appear over her shoulders and she makes her argument. and it's all from the explicit point of view of the automated unit. like the viewer is the object of interest--and it's ominous because the characters don't know they're being watched but it's also like, the robot is helpless, no matter what happens next. and we get to watch b'elanna's curiosity reach out from that point of view. as the helpless unit.

[firemenenthusiast]

kinda random what if reader was a domme and had not only Jann as a sub but FARLEIGH also and reader makes them get freaky deaky with each other while reader watches 🌚🌚🌚🌚

or Farleigh gets to fuck reader and lowkey cuck Jann watches and can’t touch them or even touch himself and has to clean up the juices afterwards.....OOOOOORRRRR vice versa, oh I just knowwwww Farleigh would be having a fit but high-key like it maybe RRRRRRRRRAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHH I NEED TO SPREAD MY POLY READER/JANN/FARLEIGH AGENDAAAAAA

hell, to spice it up even more throw Kai in there, he's the ultra king of freaky fucks out of all of archie's characters to me so I have a feeling the whole thing would have him in freak paradise me thinks 😼😼😼

im officially combusting juniperhasfallen i fear you are a freaking genius cuz all your ideas in my inbox are nothing short of absolute deliciousness WAAARRRBBRRHRHRH. oh how i love making all of them my sub cuz they be suubbbyyyy

warnings: 18+, porn w/o plot, no protection (which is very unethical in this situation), three foursome, p in v, sub!/dom! farleigh, sub!jann, sub!/dom! kai, blowjobs, cum eating, reverse cowgirl, m! masturbation, creampie, teabagging, men whimpering, whining, crying, edging, overstimulating, ruined orgasms, cuckolding, cumshots, cuffing

a/n: well isn’t this interesting

GET THIS. we all know how farleigh is willing to fuck basically anyone. and jann, is by default the sweetest sub known to mankind. but when you brought up the idea to farleigh he secretly got excited but pretended to hate it cuz he thinks jann’s a loser. also because he’s lowkey jealous with how sweet you are with jann. farleigh ofcourse had to get his turn first with you, making jann sit in the cuck sofa in the corner, forcing jann to watch you play with his cock at the edge of the bed, his arms propped against the mattress with his thighs spread far apart. farleigh wants to be all whimpery and whining while you tease the sensitive tip of his cock but when he remembers that jann’s watching, he contains his moans cuz it would be embarrassing. while jann sits pretty in the chair naked with his hard cock out, tip red and leaking with the vein on the side bulging prominently, farleigh makes sure that he watches with his hands obediently on the armrests, no touching allowed. eventho farleigh’s literally getting fucked over by you, his cock twitching and precum trickling down his length into your hands, he still manages to be an asshole towards jann who’s watching, saying things like “dont you dare look away racer boy, keep your fucking hands to yourself” farleigh’s just spewing mean orders to jann, who suprisingly, obeys whatever farleigh says.

jann aches to fist his length with his hands at the view of you bouncing on another huge cock but he has to behave, because you’re praising them both while farleigh is in you, telling jann how good of a boy he’s being just sitting there obediently, and how pretty he looks, and reminding him how good boys get rewarded. jann refuses to jeopardise his chance at an orgasm even though he’s close to cumming undone from cucking you and farleigh. he doesn’t want to end up being overstimulated like him, being edged over and over again by you, being stripped off from his orgasm repeatedly that his balls are starting to turn purple. farleigh’s whining, begging you to let him cum, his hips desperately bucking but still, he’s running his mouth at jann. “fuck—, you okay over there, mngh ? you’re so hard man, it’s pathetic” which gets him another ruined orgasm from you, for being mean to jann. guess he just couldn’t help it. jann is quiet, maybe too fucked with how hard he’s bucking his hips into thin air, desperate for some sort of relieve for his rock hard cock, bending towards his navel. every time farleigh would humiliate him with his words, jann would whine, tears threatening to spill from his pretty eyes. his balls are tight, full of cum, rubbing against the fabric of the sofa. “please—oh, please farleigh let me have her” being one of jann’s pleads amongst others that came out incoherent, sounding more like blabbers from how lightheaded he is, only for farleigh to respond with “shut your mouth”. at times farleigh would receive a slap across his face, as you put him back in his place. you would think that’ll shut him up but no, he’d let out a loud moan, enjoying being slapped that you can feel his cock twitch. jann almost cums when you’re cumming for the second time on farleigh’s cock, all while ruining his orgasm for the ninth time.

farleigh’s now crying from blue balls, his tip leaking so much precum, his hand desperately grabbing at your waist to aid the intense aching on his crotch, another hand over his quivering lips, his eyes red with droplets of tear clinging onto his long lashes. eventho he’s in that state, his mouth is still spewing humiliation towards jann, only to whimper again from you overstimulating him. “stop, stop- stop, stop please” farleigh would beg, shutting his eyes as you edge him over another waves of pleasure, only to rip it away again. you’d kiss down his body from his jaws, making sure to spend extra time licking at his nipple, feeling yet another orgasm coming from farleigh from his twitching cock. you bite at his nipple slightly harder before quickly getting up from his cock for it to instantly slap against his lower belly before ropes of cum squirts out of his raging red tip, so much of it landing all over his body, some even getting on his lips. he’s crying, hips bucking from the overstimulation, as you hear jann mutters a low “fuck—“. catching your breath, you smile at farleigh in his fucked up state, he’s too hazy to say anything to jann now, only being able to blabber strings of thankyou’s to you for letting him cum this time. while you watch him come down from his cries, your fingers trace small hearts with his cum on his chest, giggling at his limp twitching cock in front of your pussy. when you turn your head over to jann, he looks like a madman, having just watched his girlfriend fucking another huge cock that’s not his, all while he’s forced to keep his hands to himself by a brat he doesn’t even know why he’s obeying.

when you get up from farleigh to walk over and kneel before jann, your fingers carefully grazing over the length, an immediate spurt of cum shooting onto your face. you look up to jann who’s breathing hard, he just can’t keep it anymore, cumming with just a slight touch from your hand. you help him ride out his orgasm, though not as satisfying as he would hope for, atleast he finally gets to be touched by you. you continue to milk his cock, popping his balls into your mouth before sucking on them, slobbering saliva all over the skin. now that he’s allowed to touch himself, he’s tugging on his shaft while you suck on his balls, swirling your tongue over the soft mounds. he’s occasionally bumping his knuckles over your forehead from how hard he’s jerking his cock off. flattening your tongue over his balls, you grab his hand away before dragging your tongue from the underside of his balls to the head of his cock, finishing off with a suckle on his tip, swallowing the drops of cum decorating his cock, before pushing your head down to throat his length. the way you reward him is the exact reason he’ll always behave, because good boys get rewarded. and jann loves delayed gratification. “having fun, racer boy ?” you hear farleigh chirp from his place, sprawled out on the mattress, too fucked out from his turn before. “come here farleigh” you order, earning an eyeroll from him. “i said— come here”. you get up to meet farleigh halfway at the edge of the bed, climbing over him before grabbing his jaw to kiss him, giving him a taste of jann’s cum. he’s moaning at the taste, fingers kneading at the soft flesh of your waist. jann is breathing hard, his chest heaving covered in sweat.

how would i add kai in this mix you may ask ? while you’re fucking yourself on jann’s cock, farleigh submits to kai who’s also been watching the whole time, except he’s fully clothed in that navy blue shirt with his hands cuffed to the railing in the wardrobe. farleigh’s sucking him off, kneeling over him having to take it all with his hands over his head, depraved from the satisfaction of pulling at farleigh’s tight curls. wet sounds bouncing off the walls of the room pornographically, the four of you moaning against each other’s touch. jann is fucking into you reverse cowgirl, so you’d be able to watch kai getting a blowjob from farleigh, who looks like he’s having the time of his life. just as you can tell that kai is close, you tell farleigh to swallow most of it, keeping some on his tongue to bring it over to you, before spitting it into your mouth. he’s hard again, so you let him stand beside the chair and fuck your mouth while jann’s chases his orgasm, rapidly thrusting into your cunt. as you’re taking both farleigh and jann’s cock, kai is left still hanging on the railing, his cock limp with stickiness dripping from the tip onto the floor. he’s groaning, his knees threatening to give up yet his eyes couldn’t get off the view of you getting fucked by two cocks at once. “kai, baby- you wanna join ?” you deliriously ask with half lidded eyes, not even knowing where to fit him in the position. maybe after jann finish fucking his load into you, you make him get up and uncuff kai, plopping him onto the bed to ride him into oblivion.

and when you decide you’re done with all of them, they’re all gonna have to lie on the bed, cuddling with each other <3 who knows ? maybe kofun or ivo can join next time

[keeperofthebox]

chapter 5 of bon voyage is now available on AO3 <3

this time: a heartfelt gift! a party! an imposter among us! suspicion, suspicion, and - you guessed it - more suspicion! a lucky charm! a monastery in the mountains! and an itty bitty catharsis!!!!

[aquamonstra]

Janeway every time she talks to Tom and Harry:

(shout out to @muiromem for the inspo 😂)

[trillscienceofficer]

Star Trek: Voyager 6x04 Tinker Tenor Doctor Spy B'Elanna, Harry and Seven

[milf-horta]

do you guys think that buster kincaid/captain proton was the spirk of the star trek universe. were the 1930s housewives writing procaid porn for zines and creating fandom culture

[ebonysolcum]

So, according to “Latent Image”, Janeway and Chakotay attended the same event some time before getting lost in the Delta Quadrant which means they canonically could have met before “Caretaker”.

And yet I haven’t seen a single fic about that potential alternate meeting …

[singeart]

[fishareglorious]

Oh, it says here that apparently Sonetto's udimo is a Sicilian Greyhound.

[cactusnymph]

A Former Borg And A Half-Klingon Walk Into A Bar

“You did not tell me that we would be going to a bar”, Seven says in that tone of hers that always sounds judgmental, no matter what she says. And, as always, it pisses B’Elanna off.

“I don’t want to be here anymore than you do, alright? I was volunteered.”

“You would think that after all that time in the Delta Quadrant there would be more Klingons in Starfleet to be ‘volunteered’ for this sort of mission”, Seven responds, looking around warily. Her hair is in its usual perfect updo and she’s wearing—well. At least she’s not wearing one of her usual cat suits. But to say that she’s dressed well for the occasion would go a little too far. She looks extremely bland, dressed in a dark sort of suit.

B’Elanna thinks that maybe someone should have briefed her better on what exactly it is that they’re doing down here.

“Open some of those buttons”, B’Elanna says, gesturing at Seven’s button up shirt. Seven raises one perfect eyebrow.

“Excuse me?”

“Your buttons. You look like a business woman who took a wrong turn. This is a Klingon bar. If people in there are supposed to believe that you came here voluntarily you have to slut it up a little”, B’Elanna says. Seven’s eyebrow raises even further.

“’Slut it up’?”, she answers.

“Have you met Klingons? All they do is fight and fuck. So if you want to go in there and not do the fighting, you have to look like you’re there for the fucking.”

There is a pause in which B’Elanna thinks that Seven is going to punch her in the face or simply turn around and leave. Instead, she slowly raises her hand to undo four buttons of her shirt, revealing a terribly perfect cleavage. B’Elanna was never self-conscious about her body—aside from its Klingon features, of course—but standing next to Seven can make even the most confident woman feel a little lackluster.

She nods emphatically and tousles up her own hair while Seven stares at her unblinkingly.

“What?”

“I am simply trying to infer how your clothes look as if you are here to ‘fuck’”, she says. B’Elanna crosses her arms in front of her chest. She’s wearing simple dark pants and a vest that shows off her toned biceps.

“Seven. No offense. But this is a lesbian bar. Lesbians love a good biceps.”

Another pause.

“Lesbian. As in homosexual female Klingons.”

B’Elanna can’t help but snort.

“Yes. Why else did you think they would send you here? Could’ve gone with… I don’t know. Someone who’s not a walking fridge.”

“I assume that many biceps in this bar will be more impressive than yours, seeing as to how you are only half Klingon”, Seven says and B’Elanna could swear that there’s the hint of a smirk beginning to form in the corner of her mouth.

“Yeah, what can I say. I’m counting on being a fuckable novelty. Let’s go. And try not to look so—well. Like you.”

Being back on Earth has allowed B’Elanna many things. Taking a guest teaching job at the academy, getting back in touch with some old friends and also… well. Getting to know some of her new friends better now that they’re back home. She’s spent an astounding amount of time with Harry, seeing as to how the two of them couldn’t be more different. And after a while off from the whole Starfleet thing, she also decided to go back to active duty, ending up more often than not with Seven.

B’Elanna never thought she’d ever help anyone else adept to Starfleet Academy or find herself arguing on behalf of it or going on an undercover extraction mission with Seven to a lesbian Klingon bar. But when the Captain asks nicely, B’Elanna is bad at saying no. She owes that woman so much.

“Would it not make more sense to pretend that we are a homosexual couple”, Seven says, pulling B’Elanna out of her thoughts and back into the real world in which Seven’s cleavage is very distracting and the Klingon hard-rock coming from inside the bar is still very loud.

Now it’s her time to pause.

“You want to pretend to be a couple. With me”, she says.

Ah, there’s that eyebrow again.

“It seems the most logical course of action. And I would, in fact, not need to look as if I was searching for sexual conquest if I am already there with a partner.”

B’Elanna can’t help but laugh about that, but she decides that maybe now is not the best time to explain the Klingon love for an orgy or the concept of polyamory to her. Instead she grabs Seven’s arm and puts it around her own shoulder before she loops her own arm around Seven’s waist.

“Well then, Ensign. Are you ready to be a lesbian?”, she asks.

“I do not think—“

“It was a joke, Seven. Loosen up.”

“Right. A joke”, Seven says, not commenting on how she has never loosened up in her life or how ‘I am Borg. I do not loosen up’. B’Elanna thinks it to herself and chuckles quietly, trying not to think about how well they actually fit together like this as they step towards the bouncers—two enormous Klingon women, wearing very little—and push open the doors.

The music thrums inside B’Elannas ribcage as they make their way towards the bar. Most of the women in here are drinking bloodwine, but there are some non-Klingons who carry fancy, colorful drinks that sparkle in the low light. B’Elanna takes note of the brawls taking place over in a corner, of the door to a separate room that probably leads to something Seven has never seen before in her entire life, Borg or no Borg, and she scans the room for their target.

“I have found our target”, Seven says next to B’Elanna. “She is sitting at one of the round tables, playing what looks to be a game involving daggers and three very lightly dressed women.”

B’Elanna doesn’t need much longer to find Sukav Resh after that particular description. She is indeed surrounded by three women who wear barely more than leather underwear and some jewelry that proudly and clearly proclaims their sexual preferences to the entire room. Most people out in these types of bars wear it. It’s not because Klingon’s are too shy to ask, they simply value efficiency. Threatening someone and buying them drinks to get laid only to find out that they’re not compatible with you is a waste of time for everyone.

“Should we attempt to join in this knife game to get the information we need?”, Seven asks and B’Elanna can’t help it. It’s simply all a little surreal.

“Would you say that you’re a submissive bottom looking to be thrown across a room, bitten extensively and spanked all night?”, she asks.

“I am unclear what my own sexual preferences have to do with our target”, Seven says, looking puzzled. B’Elanna wishes it was easier to rile her up. No fun at all.

“The women she has at her table all wear jewelry signaling that that’s what they’re looking for and look at Resh’s chains and the metal piece on her right hand. She’s signaling that she’s looking for someone to rough up, to put it mildly. So I doubt she’d want us there unless we advertise ourselves as such”, B’Elanna says, stepping up to the bar and shouting at the barmaid in Klingon to get her attention and buy her and Seven a drink.

“You have extensive knowledge about these things, Lieutenant.”

B’Elanna hands Seven a drink.

“I dabbled. Back in my academy days.”

“Dabbled”, Seven repeats. “You have had many relations with male crew-members over the course of our journey, but none with female crew-members.”

“Seven, I’m not going to discuss my sexual preferences with you while we’re on a job”, B’Elanna says and Seven opens her mouth, closes it again and sniffs her drink before pulling a face that makes B’Elanna laugh.

“That’ll put some chest on your chest”, she says with a big grin and throws her drink back.

“I doubt that I need more ‘chest’ on my chest”, Seven says and it makes B’Elanna laugh more. She looks at Seven’s cleavage and then back up.

“Yeah. Maybe not.”

Seven sips her drink and looks as if she would love nothing more than to spit it back out. But, like a brave Klingon warrior, Seven swallows her small sip and then turns her back to Sukav Resh.

“If you have intricate knowledge of these… mating rituals. Then we should make use of them to get to the target. What kind of jewelry do I need to—signal all of that. What you said before.”

“You mean that you’re a submissive bottom who wants to be—“

“Yes. That”, Seven interrupts. Maybe her cheeks look a little red, but maybe it’s just the drink or the lighting. Either way, B’Elanna finds herself weirdly charmed by it. It’s not often that you see Seven of Nine even remotely flustered.

“You don’t have to do it. I doubt you’d survive two seconds at that table. I can do it. I’ll get the information we need and when I have it we’ll find the backroom they do their business in”, B’Elanna says, opening up her vest and starting to rummage around in her pockets. She finds what she’s looking for and hands Seven a heavy necklace while she puts three metal bracelets on her left wrist.

“You had all of this at home”, Seven says and it’s not a question. B’Elanna does not comment on it. She takes Seven’s drink from her, throws the rest of it back and then tousles her own hair some more before walking over to where Sukav Resh is sitting. She can immediately feel herself be appraised as she approaches and there’s a familiar tingle that makes its way up her spine and back down into her fingertips.

It’s been a very long time since B’Elanna went to a bar like this and what Seven said is true. But it’s surprisingly easy to fall back into old habits, even if those habits have been put away for a long time. She has no idea what Seven is up to, if she’s watching or buying another drink. The dagger in Resh’s hand spins and B’Elanna smiles before she punches one of the women sitting at Resh’s table square in the face, sending her backwards over a chair.

“So. I can see there’s a seat free here”, she says, grabbing the drink of the woman she just hit and throwing it back. Resh stares up at her and then she starts laughing, hitting the table with one hand.

“I can appreciate some healthy competition. You here to play?”, she asks, looking at the bracelets on B’Elanna’s wrist and the chain dangling between her boobs.

“Why else would I sit here?”, she says, holding out her hand for the dagger. Resh’s grin grows sharp as she hands it over.

“Well then. Let’s play.”

*

One of the reasons why B’Elanna stopped going to these kinds of bars is because of her non-existent ability to regulate her own risk-seeking behavior. Getting through the academy days was already shitty enough without running to the medical facilities every second weekend. The looks of the nurses when they saw the bite marks were usually enough to make B’Elanna’s skin crawl with old, internalized issues she never really dealt with.

Being thrown back into it is… weird. And thrilling. B’Elanna likes being rough and she likes it the other way around too, she simply has a preference of roughing up men and being roughed up by women. Seven doesn’t need to know that. B’Elanna might have thought about Seven being just as strong as a Klingon with her Borg enhancements. Usually the people B’Elanna fights—or fucks—can’t hold a candle to her strength. Most of them are humans.

But Seven could probably—well. It doesn’t matter. It’s not a road B’Elanna should go down. She has a job to do and a kid to raise with a husband she’s getting divorced from. Adding sexual desires for her former Borg colleague to the mix would simply complicate things too much.

After half an hour B’Elanna is tipsy bordering on drunk, has three minor stab wounds in her arm and has been promoted to sit on Resh’s right thigh. This is definitely not how she saw the night going. She has the info. But she needs an out so she can reconvene with Seven to find the backroom for that damned business transaction. Resh grabs B’Elanna’s chin roughly and turns it towards her face. B’Elanna maybe licks her lips, trying her hardest to remember that she’s here on a mission and that she’s on duty—but she doesn’t have to ponder this for very long, because right as she’s about to elbow her way out of this situation, she’s pulled out of Resh’s lap and before B’Elanna can say anything to stop it, Resh is thrown halfway across the room.

“The game is over”, Seven says, cheeks a little flushed and hair in slight disarray. It looks really good on her.

“What are you doing?”, B’Elanna hisses, trying not to stare at Seven’s cleavage or to think about how hot it is that Seven can throw a Klingon across a room as if they weigh nothing. Thankfully Klingons love bar brawls, fights and any kind of violence, so the second Resh is thrown over to the dance-floor, three full brawls erupt and they manage to duck away into one of the side rooms.

“Do you have the information”, Seven says, making her question sound like a statement as she’s so often want to do.

“I do. I could have gotten out of there by myself, you know”, she says, feeling a little flustered. Seven raises one eyebrow.

“I am sure you could have. But I was being propositioned by nine different women while you were gone and I was tired of waiting.”

B’Elanna snorts and looks around.

“The backroom is down this corridor. Third door on the right”, B’Elanna says, looking around. “I don’t think we’re supposed to be here—“

Right on cue there’s a commotion at the entrance of the corridor and some shouting about “They went that way!” and B’Elanna doesn’t really have any great ideas aside from the one.

“Follow my lead”, she hisses and grabs Seven by the collar. Seven looks quizzical, eyes darting around to find an out. There is none. So B’Elanna does the only thing she can think of to justify them being in this corridor without immediately being thrown out by a bunch of angry Klingon lesbians.

She tucks on Seven’s collar, hard, pulling her down and forward before she presses herself against the wall, hoping that Seven gets the gist of it. The seconds their mouths collide Seven makes a sound that is half surprise, half something else and B’Elanna finds herself reveling in it, blood boiling and heat rushing through her body.

Seven’s lips are incredibly soft and incredibly clumsy.

But despite her obvious discomfort and surprise, she reacts immediately, grabbing B’Elanna’s wrists and pinning them to the wall above her head. B’Elanna tries to tug on them and yes. It would take her serious effort to get out of this. She makes a big show to struggle against Seven’s grip, kissing her hard and with most likely too much tongue and teeth for Seven’s liking, but the second the voices come closer and two people stare down the corridor there’s just loud laughter and some crude whistling before the women disappear to leave them to their make-out session.

B’Elanna almost forgets that this is her colleague and that they’re undercover, because her tongue in Seven’s mouth feels incredible and the tight grip restraining her is making her heart soar. Seven’s boobs are pressed up against her and… yeah. It’s hot. Hot as fuck.

The second they’re alone in the corridor again Seven releases B’Elanna’s grip and pulls back from the kiss. Her cheeks are bright red now and her hair has given up on staying tied up entirely. B’Elanna thinks she should wear it like this more often. They stare at each other, both of them breathing hard.

B’Elanna licks her lips.

“Sorry. That was my only idea”, she says a little sheepishly. Seven swallows visibly, then turns her head away.

“I will live”, she says, deadpan. B’Elanna laughs, a little breathlessly. So they make their way down the corridor and B’Elanna tries to think as clearly as possible through the alcohol and the aroused haze that has taken over her brain now.

There’s a beat of silence as they inch forward. Then.

“Will you explain the jewelry to me after this is over? For… scientific research.”

B’Elanna has to stifle a laugh and presses a fist against her mouth. The mouth that was just kissing Seven a few seconds ago.

“Sure thing, Seven. I can help you do some research.”

This mission definitely didn’t go as B’Elanna expected. But apparently that doesn’t have to be a bad thing.