#anyway kirk is beautiful and i adore him | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

elareine · 3 years

Note

If you could, can you please write JayTim or RoyTim (whichever one you want) trying to be romantic and woo Tim (maybe with some puns, I love puns), but Tim is a bit oblivious towards it, because the other is so cool, therefore they must be trying to make friends and be nice with him and nothing more. So when he does finally realize its an italicized "Oh" moment.

Hi lovely!! Thank you for waiting so patiently for this fill. I... ended up making it JayRoyTim, I hope that's okay? It just fit so well, but I can totally write something else with JayTim or RoyTim for you if you want :)

Also, it turned out to be about pick-up lines more than wooing, sorry. I might’ve gone overboard with googling the puns. It's long enough that I put it on ao3, too. What's your username on there? Then I'll gift it to you.

if you were a transformer (you’d be optimus fine)

“Well, here I am.”

Tim looks up, utterly confused. “I didn’t call for you, but… that’s… great?”

Roy waggles his eyebrows. It looks faintly disturbing. Redheads should maybe not do that. Or, actually, Tim revises mentally, thinking of literally every other redhead Dick ever dated—that’s just Roy. “What are your other two wishes?”

“Coffee and some silence to finish working this case?”

Roy looks weirdly deflated at that, but he does get him some coffee. Tim soon forgets about it.

—

(“How’d it go?”

“Does obliviousness run in the family?”

“Yes. Yes it does. Have you met Bruce?”

“…okay, fair. Your turn next.”)

—

“Jason? What’re you doing here?”

Sure, Jason and Roy have been spending a lot more time in Gotham lately. Something to do with a case, Tim assumes. Maybe even with the one that they worked on together in Star City five months ago?

Anyway. They’ve been around, is what Tim is saying. Not at the manor, but at Tim’s apartment and his workspace, cause apparently it’s not worth rebuilding their safe house after it went up in flames, and Bruce and Damian are too often at Dick’s place. He’s not exactly surprised to see either of them anymore. (Pleased, yes. But not surprised.) However, Tim has no fucking clue why Jason is currently grinning at him from the other side of the library desk.

At least Tim has the good sense to check his name tag before he gasps: “Jason?”

“Oh, hey, Tim.” Jason’s grinning. “Guess you figured out my new job, huh?”

“Yeah.” Tim shakes his head. “Color me surprised.” So this is what Jason’s spending his days doing. He’s gotta be shadowing someone, right? Tim’ll ask him tonight.

“I’ve always liked this place.” Jason’s gaze is far away for a moment. Tim badly wants to know what he’s remembering. Then the older man seems to come back to himself and gives Tim a weird—maybe angry?—look. “It’s a good thing I’m a librarian, too, cause I’m totally checking you out.”

“Alright, I can take a hint.” Tim grabs his book and demonstratively walks over to the self-service scanners. Really. How rude.

—

(“Are you telling me he managed to resist you in your cardigan?”

“Apparently.”

“Aww. C’mere, babe.”)

—

So Roy blows things up all the time. No, really, Tim now totally understands why Dick was so happy when he heard the duo is camping out at Tim’s place for a change. His older brother even gave Tim a thumbs-up, for God’s sake. He must’ve known.

Cause yeah, there’s at least one explosion every two days. Or Roy dropping something cause he’s too focused on what he’s thinking to remember what his hands are doing. Or something dropping on him. Jason seems used to it; he just catches whatever it is or laughs at Roy. Tim… is starting to learn to do the same, actually. Whatever Roy comes up with at that moment is usually worth it, and besides, he’s kinda adorable.

Aaaaaaanyway. (He’s using that word a lot in his own thoughts right now. Almost as if he’s avoiding thinking about something. Hmm.) Tim’s not surprised when Roy walks into a room, stumbles, and slaps a hand over his eyes with a dramatic exclamation.

Tim, in shorts and not much else cause he got drenched in pollen earlier, just raises an eyebrow. “Alright, Roy?”

“Nope.” Roy’s hand is still covering his face, but Tim can still see his grin underneath. “I’m gonna need your name and phone number for insurance purposes.”

“Roy. You have both of these things,” Tim explains slowly, wondering if Roy sustained a brain injury or accidentally dosed himself on something. “And why insurance?”

“I was blinded by your beauty.”

God. Sometimes Tim wonders about the original Titans and their socialization for the two dudes if this is how they think making friends works. Then again, Kori, Donna, and Dick probably appreciated constant compliments about their beauty. It all makes sense. Roy must be so used to it that he even uses those same methods when someone unexceptional like Tim is around.

He smiles gamely. “I’m looking forward to hearing that phone call. Must be almost as great as the time Bruce tried to convince his insurance company that Clark dropping on his car wasn’t an act of God because God is demonstrably not a Kryptonian. Neither was the giant ape punching Clark out.”

Roy drops his hand at that. “…Batman did what?”

—

(“You were doing so well, too.”

“I knoooow. How much more obvious can we get?”

“I dunno, but I intend to try.”)

—

“Do you like Star Wars? Because Yoda only one for me!”

“Haha. No. Star Trek or die.” Tim’s answer is automatic. He’s had these discussions soooo many times with Kon before. Of course Jason also goes for the space cowboy soap opera.

Besides, Jason’s boyfriend is standing right next to him. He doesn’t mean to sound flirtatious with Tim. Or maybe he does, and it’s just good fun? Or maybe teasing him? Tim can’t figure it out, but he knows he doesn’t like the weird hollow feeling he gets in his stomach when he thinks about it, so he changes the topic.

And makes both of them sit down to watch some classic Captain Kirk, of course.

—

(“Should I be insulted by that pick up line?”

“Nah. There aren’t that many lines that imply a polycule, though.”

A kiss. “Alright.”)

—

One of the things Jason and Tim have in common is their predilection for motorbikes and fiddling around with them. Not that makes them unique in the batclan; Tim has never spent days quietly working side-by-side with Dick, though, the way he does with Jason. They started out with separate projects. Then Jason saw this vintage Ducati at an abandoned warehouse he was about to blow up and, well… Would be a shame, right? Tim just happens to have had one of these before—regrettably lost to one of Harley’s exploding baseball bats—so he offers his expertise.

It’s not because it means bending over the engine with Jason, closer than they ever are, their hands brushing when they hand each other instruments. It’s not.

Roy doesn’t join them. He’s too polite to say so, but he finds normal cars and bikes boring af. Doesn’t stop him from popping his head into the garage and whistling when he sees that they are shirtless and covered in grease. It’s a damn good look on Jason, so Tim can’t fault him for that.

Roy follows it up with a: “Are you a parking ticket? Cause you got fine written all over you.”

Tim can’t help it; he blushes at the suggestive tone. Those two never stop flirting with each other, do they? So far, he has managed to avoid stumbling over them while they’re making out (not that they’re making that easy—the kitchen? Really?), and he’d like to keep avoiding that, thank you very much. He’s already feeling guilty enough for his fantasies as it is.

“Uh. I should clean up,” he mumbles and flees.

—

(“Dammit.”

“…do you think that was a rejection?”

“Nah. He was definitely checking me out before you came and fucked it up.”

“That’s saying something if you noticed it.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”)

—

So Tim has magically acquired cat ears and a very fluffy tail. Don’t ask. They’re gonna go away in eight hours, and until then, he’s gonna stay in the cave and work himself to distraction. Jason seems intent on keeping him company, though.

(It’s nice. Tim loves hanging out with Jason—that’s not the problem. The issue is that Tim is looking ridiculous, and Jason is being nice about it, and none of this is helping his stupid crush go away.)

They’re absently chatting about nothing until Jason says: “Kinda a pity you’re a cat, though.”

Tim looks up. Huh? Admittedly, he never pegged Jason as the type to go for catboys (though maybe… he did hang out with Kyle… perhaps it’s just that he definitely doesn’t go for Tims), but that’s still a weird pronouncement.

Jason is grinning. “If you were a chicken, you’d be impeccable.” He pauses. “Wait. Like even more than you already are. Uh.”

Tim sighs. Great. And now Jason is making fun of him again. “Whatever.”

—

(“A chicken?”

“Shut up. I panicked.” A sigh. “He was so cute with these ears.”

“…yeah, he was.”)

—

“You must be tired. You’ve been running through my mind all night.”

“I’m not tired,” Tim says automatically. Why does everyone keep asking him that tonight? Surely the shadows under his eyes can’t be that bad? He used concealer!

Something in Roy’s expression softens. “Aww. C’mere.” He pats the space on the couch next to him, and when Tim sits down, Roy pulls him half of on top of him and into a hug. “Relax for a bit, little bird.”

Tim sinks into the embrace, boneless all of a sudden. Roy just has that effect on him. Tim vaguely remembers thinking of him as his oldest brother’s cool friend and then Jason’s cool boyfriend, kind of a fuckboy but clearly good for Jay.

Now? Now, Roy just makes him feel safe.

—

(“So you spent the night on the couch just so he could sleep in your arms?”

“Yeah. Totally worth it.”

“Duh.”

“I just wish we could do that with him every night. Bet he fits perfectly between us.”

“Yeah.”

A pause.

“We might have to up the ante or switch tactics.”)

—

They’re talking about their favorite books—Tim doesn’t read as much as Jason does, but they discovered a shared love of sci-fi weeks ago—when Tim says: “Actually, that book kinda reminds me of you.”

“Oh?”

“Overly dramatic but good.”

Jason makes an offended noise, and Tim grins.

“I’m not sure which part I should argue about first.” Jason pretends to think.

Tim is always down to tell Jason that fuck his self-perception—Jason is a good man, one of the best Tim knows; that also feels too revealing right now. Instead, he gets up from their comfortable position on the couch and grabs the first stack on the table, carrying them over to the shelves to replace the gaps. “What kind of book would I be?”

“Babe, if you were words on a page, you’d be fine print.”

“Annoying and no one reads it?” Tim asks without turning around, trying to ignore the babe. That’s. That’s gotta be a slip of the tongue, right? Force of habit from spending so much time with Roy?

“No, fine,” and the emphasis is clear this time. Jason continues before Tim can reply: “Though if we’re talking books…”

Tim whirls around. “Save it. You don’t have to make fun of me just because I—“He swallows down the words.

Jason looks alarmed. “Tim—“

As if he can smell trouble, Roy chooses that moment to enter the room. Tim has barely heard him approach, Jesus. He doesn’t want to have this argument in front of Roy, though, so he just stands there in the middle of the room. Jason, too, has stopped speaking.

Roy, of course, takes one look at the awkwardness and decides to make it worse. Or more confusing.

“Did you just come out of the oven?” he asks.

“As this isn’t Hansel and Gretel, no, I didn’t.” Tim checks his shirt, just in case this is an actual conversation opener and not just a weird attempt at a distraction. “Do I have soot on me?”

“Nope.” Roy shakes his head, and he’s smiling that smile again, the one Tim is startled to recognize, the one he thought is reserved only for Jason— “Because you’re hot.”

And finally, Tim gets it. “Me?”

“Yes, Tim.” Roy’s moving in closer. “You.”

There’s a soft touch to Tim’s shoulder, and Tim whirls around, expecting Jason to be mad, cause his boyfriend is—is hitting on Tim, right, that’s what’s happening, Jason can’t be happy—

Jason is smiling down at him. His hand is still resting on Tim’s shoulder, but it slides down to his collar bone, a gentle presence as he murmurs: “You’re so beautiful that you made forget my pick up line.”

Oh. Oh.

Tim says the first thing he can think of: “Are you a raisin?”

Jason starts grinning. “I’m not even gonna qualify that with an answer.”

Tim smiles back. “Cause you’re raising my hopes for a kiss right about now.”

And he gets one. And then another, and then Roy joins in, kissing Tim’s neck and then his mouth and—Yeah.

They’re too busy for any more pick up lines right now.

#elareine writes #jayroytim

131 notes · View notes

twinklysmiles · 3 years

Text

Not a Word of This to Anyone! (Or: A Ticklish Spa Day) Part 2: Full Body Massage

A Star Trek Tickle Fic

Fandom: Star Trek TOS / AOS Characters: Leonard Bones McCoy, James T. Kirk (McKirk at a stretch), Nyota Uhura, Christine Chapel Warnings: Tickling (turning into a non-con situation) Word Count: 5,423

Summary: Kirk and McCoy get roped into joining Chapel and Uhura on a spa day, which turns out to be a rather ticklish experience. They seriously regret their decision as they helplessly suffer through a pedicure and a full body massage.

Read Part 1: Pedicure here

Inspired by this gif: (although I can actually picture AOS Kirk and McCoy even better in this one)

“We’re not due for our facials for another hour,” Uhura grinned. “Maybe we’d better stay close, right here outside their treatment room, and have some more of this delicious herbal tea? Just in case the rest of their bodies is as ticklish as their feet, and they need us to rescue them?”

Giving her friend an appraising look, Chapel asked, “Why do I get the impression that you’re secretly hoping for the massage to turn out as ticklish as the pedicure, and just want to be here to listen to their helpless laughter?”

Uhura looked away and blushed, then mumbled, “It was quite hot to watch, though, wasn’t it? Them being so incredibly ticklish, and those girls shamelessly taking advantage of it, I mean.”

“It certainly was,” Chapel grinned, hardly believing that Uhura obviously had a thing for tickling, too. “And going by the naughty wink Leonard’s pedicurist gave us, I wouldn’t be surprised to hear some serious laughter again any minute now.”

“Mhm, my thoughts exactly,” Uhura agreed, “let’s get some tea and make ourselves comfortable out here in the sun. This resort is so beautiful! But let’s hurry, I wouldn’t want to miss anything. Jim’s laughter is just too cute! I wish I could tickle him myself.”

‘And you haven’t even heard him in full hysterics yet,’ Chapel thought, grinning to herself as she remembered all the times she’d witnessed the captain roaring with uncontrollable laughter in sickbay, even though McCoy had clearly tried his hardest not to tickle him during his abdominal examinations.

“Actually, I found Leonard’s reactions even more delightful,” the nurse countered. “He was so adorably embarrassed about being ticklish, yet completely helpless to stop himself from thrashing around and laughing his head off.”

oOoOoOoOoOo

Kirk and McCoy stripped down to their briefs as requested, and climbed onto the two massage tables that were standing side by side in the centre of the room.

“Face down please, gentlemen!” McCoy’s pedicurist, who had introduced herself as Pixie, instructed. “Apart from the big hole for your face, you’ll find that you can thread your hands comfortably through the little gaps between the two parts of the armrests.”

The two men obliged, shifting around until they felt comfortable, and then tried to relax for the upcoming massage.

After a few moments, McCoy felt two warm, oily hands starting to gently stroke his neck and back, from his spine to his shoulders. And although it was a very light touch, certainly bordering on ticklish on the doctor’s sensitive skin, it actually felt very nice and surprisingly relaxing. Closing his eyes contentedly, as Pixie lightly raked her fingers in slow waves over his back, he found himself practically purring with pleasure, and heard similar sounds coming from Jim on the table next to him.

But as Pixie’s hands gradually travelled further down his back, he began to wish she’d apply a little more pressure, biting his lip as he was reminded just how ticklish the small of his back was. With every feathering stroke across his lumbar area, his body tensed up a little more, and he found it harder and harder to keep his breathing even, desperately willing her to move upwards again, and hoping he’d be able to stand the irritating touches until she did.

Naturally, she lingered on his lower back for an excruciating eternity, and, clamping his mouth shut, McCoy couldn't help flinching a little every time the devious fingers returned to the spots that really bothered him, seriously making him want to arch his back and twist out of reach. By the time the ticklish touches were finally inching up his harried back again, the doctor was ready to crawl out of his skin, taking shallow breaths and hardly able to hold back the giggles any longer.

“Don’t tell me even your back is ticklish!” Pixie chuckled, but thankfully kept moving her hands towards safer areas when McCoy chose to ignore her, the feathering fingers slowly wandering back up to his neck and shoulders, where he could actually enjoy their touches.

As McCoy gradually relaxed again, Kirk started to giggle next to him.

“A little more firmly, please,” the captain all but squeaked, and the doctor could hear him squirming around on his table. “You’re tickling me!”

“Relax, Captain,” Rosie, Kirk’s pedicurist-turned-massage therapist drawled. “It’s supposed to be soft and gentle. This technique has proven far more effective than the high-pressure muscle kneading you’re probably used to.”

“How can I relax when you keep tickling me?” the captain spluttered, his giggles turning into guffaws.

McCoy didn’t catch the last of Kirk’s words, as he got distracted by Pixie’s fingers now grazing his sides every time she fanned them from his spine outwards and back, running her hands in ever wider strokes up and down his back. Just barely, and probably not even deliberately, but his sides were so horribly ticklish, there was no way he could enjoy the massage anymore.

Too embarrassed to admit how much it tickled and ask her to stop the harrowing touches, the doctor gritted his teeth and frantically tried to suppress the involuntary jerks of his body every time Pixie’s fingers brushed his sides. God, he hated being tickled. And he hated being so helplessly, excruciatingly ticklish.

Desperately holding back the laughter, the doctor got more and more restless as Pixie continued to lightly trail her fingernails a little further around his sensitive sides with every stroke, her touch getting more unbearable the closer it came to his belly. Finally, he just couldn't handle it anymore and let out a gasp and a snort, before dissolving into bright, helpless laughter, his body spasming under the devilish touches, and ticklish tears spilling from his eyes.

Next to him, Kirk wasn’t faring any better. The captain was shaking with helpless mirth, as Rosie’s fingers inflicted serious tickle torture on his body.

“Don’t!” the captain cried out between bouts of laughter. “It tickles too mu-hu-hu-huch!”

“But you asked for more pressure,” Rosie smiled innocently, continuing her torturous ministrations. “You said my touch was too light and therefore ticklish. Make up your mind, Captain! You just asked me to knead, and not feather, remember?”

“But not my ri-hi-hi-hibs!” Kirk was cackling away in earnest now, as Rosie gleefully clawed and prodded up and down his sensitive sides and ribs, while Pixie, at the other table, elicited peals of impotent laughter from a frenzied McCoy, fiendishly scribbling her fingers all over the doctor’s sides and every inch of his belly she could access underneath him, dropping every pretence of not doing it on purpose.

Relenting a little when the captain started to cough, Rosie and Pixie let the men catch their breath, rubbing their backs with proper massage strokes and waiting for them to calm down again.

“You’re really quite the ticklish pair, aren’t you?” Pixie giggled, and Rosie wickedly added, “I wonder, where else they might be ticklish!”

And before McCoy had the chance to pull himself back together enough to even think about getting up and escaping his unbearable predicament, Pixie leaned down, lightly ran a devious finger around his waist, from his belly to the small of his back and on to the other side of his belly, and murmured in his ear, “Now tell me, Dr. McCoy, where are you and your captain most ticklish?”

The doctor tensed up, shivering under the harrowing touch, but determined not to break again and give this sadistic woman the satisfaction of showing how torturous a single fingernail tracing his waistline was for him. He couldn't quite stop his muscles from twitching at the ticklish sensations, though.

Anyway, McCoy was spared from having to come up with a clever retort, when Rosie happened upon Kirk’s absolutely worst spot, and the captain erupted into hysterical laughter, frantically, and almost unintelligibly, begging for mercy in between howls of ticklish agony.

“Not there! AAAAHAHAHAHA! Anywhere but there! AAAHAHAHA! Please STOHOHOHOHP! God, NOHOHOHOHO! I really can’t AAAAHAHAHAH stand this! AAAHAHAHAH! I’m dying! AAAHAHAHAH! Too ticklish! AAAAHAHAHAH! Mercy! AAAAHAHAHAH! Please! AAAAHAHAHAH! Bones! AAAAHAHAHAH!"

“Gosh, I think I struck gold there,” Rosie exclaimed happily as Pixie watched in awe. “What a ticklish, ticklish belly the captain has! And there I thought his feet were bad.”

Forgetting his own ticklish predicament for a moment, McCoy grew seriously angry now and demanded of the women to stop their vicious assault. This wasn’t funny anymore. Despite him lying on his stomach, Rosie had found out how unbearably ticklish Jim was on his belly. But not just that, by the sound of him, she had also discovered his absolute death spots. The ones that Leonard had to avoid at all costs during physical exams, knowing only too well, as Kirk’s doctor and friend, how he couldn't stand to be touched there at all.

Watching his friend bucking and thrashing violently, while desperately begging for mercy through his howls of tortured laughter as Rosie fiendishly reached underneath Jim’s belly from both sides and evilly exploited the newly found weak spots, McCoy made to get off his table in order to hurry over to help Jim and put an end to this madness. Only to discover that he couldn't, because his arms were stuck in the armrests.

That was when fury gave way to panic, as the doctor realised in horror, that his own death spots were now completely exposed and vulnerable, too. This whole scenario was his very worst nightmare come true.

oOoOoOoOoOo

Outside the treatment room, Uhura and Chapel were practically glued to the door, enraptured by the development inside. Quite obviously, Kirk and McCoy had a lot of tickle spots, which the girls seemed to be discovering one after the other. And even worse ones than their feet, it appeared, judging from how the giggles and mild laughter from the first few minutes of the “massage” had grown into full-blown hysterics.

Especially Kirk’s, who was currently beside himself with ticklish hilarity, actually begging for mercy, and making the women wonder what exactly had elicited this kind of crazed laughter from the captain.

“Leave his belly alone!” they heard McCoy roar, sounding truly pissed off. “Can’t you see he’s had enough? That he really can’t stand it there? You’re killing him!”

“So, Jim’s belly, eh?” Uhura turned to Chapel, raising an amused eyebrow, her eyes sparkling with glee over this new piece of information.

“Deathly,” Christine confirmed, trying to picture Kirk being purposely tickled on his belly, when even just McCoy’s careful and considerate touches had been enough to tickle him out of his mind and render him completely helpless. “You have no idea!”

“You knew?” Uhura gaped at her friend.

“I am the head nurse,” Chapel smiled by way of explanation.

“Oh. My. God. He sounds hysterical. Is his belly really that bad?” Uhura was still trying to get her head around the captain being so insanely ticklish.

“Off the charts,” Christine nodded.

“Good, they stopped,” Uhura was actually relieved. “For a moment there, they almost had me worried about Jim. McCoy sounded genuinely concerned. Certainly angry enough to bite their heads off. Or maybe he was just on edge, because there are still some similarly torturous tickle spots waiting to be discovered on his own body?”

The mischievous gleam was back in Uhura’s eyes.

“Well, the good doctor certainly knows how acutely ticklish the captain’s belly is,” Chapel chuckled. “He had to perform a number of abdomen checks over the years.”

Uhura smirked, trying to picture super-ticklish Kirk and McCoy in sickbay, the latter attempting to perform an actual physical on a frantically cackling and squirming captain.

“At least he got those “tickle-therapists” to stand down,” she smiled. “Made them realise that it was really too much for poor Jim to take.”

“Or the captain might have fallen into silent laughter,” Chapel smirked mischievously. “He sometimes does, when his belly gets tickled too long.”

Uhura frowned. “You think he’s all right?”

“Sure. Leonard is very protective of Jim. He’d never let them seriously torture him. Besides, their time is nearly up, anyway.”

No sooner were the words out of her mouth, than McCoy suddenly started to laugh hysterically, too.

“Is that the doctor squealing like a little girl?” Uhura asked taken aback. Although it was unmistakably Leonard’s voice, she’d never heard him like that. “Sounds like they hit quite a death spot there!”

Mesmerised, the two friends leaned in closer, straining to hear everything that was going on behind that door.

Shrieking, cackling, more cackling.

McCoy was unquestionably in ticklish agony.

Then one of the therapists’ voices, softly counting.

“Three…”

Shrieking, cackling, more cackling.

“Four…”

“Maybe she’s counting his toes?” Uhura took a guess. “Remember how badly he was suffering during the pedicure? His feet are awfully ticklish, they’re surely hard to beat.”

Shrieking, cackling, more cackling.

“Seven…”

“Ok, not the toes then,” Uhura giggled, eager to know where the doctor could be more ticklish than on his feet.

“I think she’s counting his ribs,” Chapel suggested, then shuddered. “My dad used to do that to me.”

“Yeah, you might be right,” Uhura agreed, fascinated by McCoy’s audibly unendurable ordeal. “Oh my God, someone has seriously ticklish ribs.”

oOoOoOoOoOo

McCoy was in tickle hell. He’d totally forgotten how insanely ticklish he really was. And with Jim helpless with ticklish laughter beside him, too, he was suddenly afraid they might actually die in this very room today. All the dangers and diseases space held, that he’d always been afraid of, and now he was getting himself tickled to death on shore leave.

He’d scared Rosie into giving Kirk a break from the nightmare of having his hyper-sensitive and helplessly exposed belly mercilessly tickled while not being able to do a damn thing to protect it. But once the captain had recovered, she’d started tickling him with renewed vigour. Exploring Jim’s body for further tickle spots, she kept coming back to his ridiculously ticklish belly. It was just too good a spot, and she clearly enjoyed inflicting such unbearably ticklish agony on the poor man.

But now that Pixie was devilishly scouring every inch of McCoy’s own body for more tickle spots, the doctor couldn't even help himself anymore, let alone his suffering friend. After the young woman had discovered the ticklish distress she could cause the doctor with the lightest touches on his sides, she was just finding out how much worse his ribs were, and what incredible fun it was for her to “count” them.

Starting from the bottom, she fiendishly took her time to poke and scratch every single rib, and then lingered even longer on the especially harrowing spots in between, drilling a diabolical finger between each pair of ribs on either side, making the doctor howl and roar and buck and thrash and generally die laughing while longing to jump out of his skin.

“What’s wrong with you?” McCoy barked, when he was finally able to form words again, before being consumed by uncontrollable laughter once more.

“Oh don’t be so dramatic, Doctor,” Pixie rolled her eyes, but relented a little anyway, just lightly tapping her fingers on the pair of ribs she’d just counted, which still tickled terribly enough. “We’re just having a little fun.

“Well it’s no fun for us,” Kirk wheezed, finding his voice again as Rosie eased up on his belly. “Let us go!”

“Not yet, we can’t,” Rosie laughed, taking her fingers off his belly and attacking his armpits and the back of his thighs instead, setting the captain off cackling again. “We still have 15 minutes left.”

“You’re just so much fun to tickle,” Pixie eagerly added. “I knew right at the pedicure how much fun a massage would be. It’s not often that we get such good-looking and deliciously, torturously ticklish men out here.” Poking McCoy’s ribs with every word for emphasis, she nearly made him fall off the table.

Then Pixie let her fingers glide back down to molest the doctor’s sides and lower back with feathering touches again, which was awful, but at least away from his ribs and just about bearable, while Rosie took to alternating between Kirk’s belly and armpits, which were horrendously ticklish as well, but anywhere was better than his belly. And while the captain was hardly able to stand the tickling in his underarms, nor on his thighs or feet, which she was including now, too, he always dreaded the moment she’d go back to his belly. Which she unfailingly did once every minute or so.

As soon as Pixie noticed that her “patient” had recovered and was merely giggling anymore, she went straight back to McCoy’s ribs, a wicked grin on her face.

“Let’s start counting from the bottom again,” she announced cheerfully, “because it’s just so much fun!”

McCoy groaned, although it came out rather as a shriek, when the devilish fingers started drilling into the space between his bottom ribs once more. After less than five seconds, the doctor was screaming laughter again, unable to deal with the diabolical tickling. And he actually started to hyperventilate as the tormenting fingers made their ticklish way upwards, their destination clearly being the spot the doctor feared more than anything else, knowing he simply couldn’t survive being tickled there like this.

“No, please, not there,” he begged between long bouts of uncontrollable laughter, then stupidly cried, “It tickles, it tickles!” much to Pixie’s amusement, who chuckled, “It does, doesn’t it?” as she continued to “count”.

When she was halfway up McCoy’s sides, she asked in a curious tone, “Is it just me? Or are you really getting even more ticklish the higher I go?”

McCoy was helpless with laughter now and couldn't get a word out if he wanted to.

“Well, if you’re not telling me, I guess I’ll just have to find out myself,” Pixie concluded and happily continued on her way up the doctor’s ticklish ribs.

The tickle torture became unbearable, and McCoy was losing all coherent thought, getting more hysterical the closer the wicked hands came to his pits and blabbering incoherent pleas for mercy whenever he could find enough breath.

“Don’t go any higher, please! *wheeze* You don’t understand! GAH-HAHA! I’ll die! BAWAHAHAH! Not funny! *wheeze* Please don’t! HUH-HUH-HUH! Can’t stand it there! AAAAHAHAHAH! Insanely ticklish there! *wheeze* Really, please! *wheeze* This is torture! GAH-HAHA-HAH! No, no, no, you don’t understand! HAHAHA! Not just a little ticklish there! BAWAHAH! More of a *wheeze* pathological *wheeze’ condition! OHOH-HOHOHOH! Hypersensitivity! HUH-HUH-HUH! I’ll go insane, if you *wheeze* tickle me there! EEEEH! Stop! No higher! AAAAAHAHAHAH!"

McCoy went ballistic when Pixie finally reached his underarms, exploding into bellowing laughter and thinking he’d die, as she scribbled and poked around his helpless armpits. And just as he thought it couldn’t get any worse, she stumbled upon his number one death spot and he lost it completely.

Nothing worse than that spot in his underarms, right above his top ribs. No matter how violently he thrashed around, nearly breaking the armrests in the process, he just couldn't pull his arms against his sides to protect himself. He was trapped in the worst possible and most vulnerable position he could imagine. And soon too weak from laughing to do anything about it anyway.

Even being as ticklish as he was and having suffered many a tickle attack from family and friends when he was younger, McCoy had never been subjected to such cruel and relentless tickle torture. Those girls had gone off the rails, they were in a veritable tickle frenzy, and unless someone came and stopped them, he and Jim were certainly done for.

Through his own heinous torture, the doctor could hear Jim suffer just as much beside him, as Rosie was focused on tormenting the captain’s belly again, killing him with the lightest wriggling of her fingers, her nails deviously fluttering up and down his sides and as far as they could go underneath his belly as he frantically rocked from side to side.

Thankfully, when she realised that he had actual difficulties breathing, Pixie eased up on McCoy’s underarms and trailed her fingers lightly down his body and legs until she reached his heels, which she knew to be beyond ticklish, too. Kirk, however, was still dying from unbearable belly tickling on the next table.

Knowing they were completely at the mercy of these two tickle fiends, annoyingly helpless and defenceless against their atrocious tickle attacks, McCoy was aware that their only chance was to be calm and diplomatic, and try to reason with the girls. Not an easy feat while being viciously tickled beyond your limits.

“You��ve had your fun,” the doctor panted, clenching his fists and scrunching up his face in an attempt to talk through the harrowing tickles on his soles. “Now just let us go, and …”

He broke off, when the scribbling fingers on his heels sped up, the unbearably ticklish sensation momentarily taking his breath away.

“At least get away from Jim’s belly” he pleaded, snorting and giggling like a maniac, as the hyper-ticklish backs of his knees were suddenly attacked. “Can’t you see that it’s killing him? You’re AAAAAAHAHAHAHAHAH! NOOOOHOHOHO! PLEASE STOOOHOHOHOP!”

Pixie’s hands had returned to the doctor’s ribs, her fingers going straight up to his worst spots, and instantly rendering him completely powerless again, helpless to do anything but surrender to the hellish torture and fight for breath through his bellowing laughter.

“Leave his underarms alone!” he suddenly heard Kirk bark with real anger, as the captain somehow managed to overcome his own anguish in order to help his friend. “Why are you doing this? AHAHAH-notmythighsplease-AHAHAH! He told you he can’t stand it there! AHAHAH-pleasepleasenotmyfeet-AHAHAH! Can’t you see that this is actual torture for him? AHAHAH-nottheregodimtooticklishthere-AHAHAH!”

It clearly took Kirk a lot of effort to get the words out, as his sensitive thighs, feet, and armpits were randomly attacked, but when Rosie’s devious fingers crept underneath his belly again, aiming right at his worst spots and viciously scrabbling and spidering there, he was thrown right back into tickle hell, way beyond the power of speech or even coherent thought, trapped in torturous silent laughter once again.

For a couple of minutes, the captain and his CMO were suffering in silence side by side, their bodies jerking and shaking with hysterical laughter, but no sound coming out of their wide-open mouths, as the sadistic “therapists” tickled the hell out of their very worst spots and subjected them to the most unbearable as well as humiliating torture of their lives.

oOoOoOoOoOo

Outside, Uhura and Chapel were starting to wonder if the guys actually needed to be rescued. Amused by how unspeakably ticklish Jim and Leonard obviously were, they still thought that their almost incessant laughter had started to sound really desperate and hysterical.

“Those girls sure know how to tickle a man out of his mind,” Chapel said. “To think that two grown, strong, well-trained Starfleet officers can be reduced to helpless laughter like this just by tickling.”

“And I never even knew!” Uhura laughed. “It’ll be really hard to keep myself from “accidentally” brushing against Jim’s belly or Leonard’s ribs in the future. My fingers will constantly be itching to tickle those two dorks.”

“Believe me,” Christine chuckled, “knowing all about people’s tickle spots and not being allowed to take advantage of that knowledge is the worst part of working in sickbay.”

“But do you think they’re all right in there?” Uhura asked, feeling a little bad about drawing so much joy from their friends’ clearly harrowing weakness. “They sounded pretty frantic right now. Maybe they’re even more ticklish than we think? And the girls were already pretty merciless at the pedicure. Maybe they really can’t stand it any longer?”

“What, just because they were laughing their heads off and actually begging for mercy?” Chapel joked, but then sobered. After all, she knew that having his belly tickled was definitely no fun but pure torture for Kirk. And if McCoy’s ribs were really worse than his feet, then being tickled there might indeed be extremely harrowing for him. “Tell you what, Ny. It’s pretty quiet again now, so, who knows? Maybe the guys are finally getting their well-deserved relaxing massage after all, in these final five minutes. But if they start tickling them again in earnest, we’ll go in, all right?”

Uhura nodded, and the two women went back to eavesdropping, both hoping and not hoping to hear some more hysterics. Of course, they didn’t want their friends to suffer, but Jim and Leonard being so insanely ticklish and therefore somehow so vulnerable was just too hot. And their adorable laughter was music to the women’s ears.

It was really quiet inside now. The only thing Uhura and Chapel could hear were the men’s low voices as they seemed to softly discuss their ticklish experience with each other.

“Bones … pfpfpf … so bad … pfpfpf … belly … nails right on spots … pfpfpf … can’t … pfpfpf … way too ticklish … pfpfpf … not there … please … pfpfpf … so ticklish … please … I’m so ticklish … pfpfpf”

“I know Jim … chrchrchr … your belly … bad … chrchrchr … but my … spots … chrchrchr … deadly … torture … chrchrchr … can’t take … chrchrchr … tickles so bad … chrchrchr … killing me … chrchrchr”

What Uhura and Chapel didn’t see, were the ticklish tears running down the men’s faces as they wheezed and thrashed around, still caught in silent laughter and trying to beg for mercy whenever they could draw enough breath.

oOoOoOoOoOo

“Let’s give them a break, Rosie,” Pixie nodded at her friend. “Wouldn’t want them to pass out or anything. How can anyone even be this ticklish?”

“No idea,” Rosie replied, dragging her fingers off the captain’s belly with one final, diabolical wiggle in just the right spot. “I’ve certainly never seen anything like it. I mean, we’re only tickling them, right? And they’re strong and important men. Starfleet officers, no less!”

Kirk and McCoy were just lying there limply, enduring the humiliating teasing, panting and squirming, and desperately hoping that the torturous tickling had come to an end, and that their evil ticklers would finally release them from the massage tables they’d so sneakily been trapped on. But Rosie and Pixie had other ideas.

“Ok, last five minutes,” Rosie announced, just as the men had calmed down a little. “Let’s try something special for the Grand Finale!”

McCoy’s heart sank. He didn’t even want to know what she had in mind. Hard to imagine as it was, but those girls could doubtlessly come up with something even more ticklish than what he and Jim had just been through.

“Let’s give your belly the best tickling yet, Captain, to keep you laughing for a minute while I help out my friend here,” Rosie told a flustered Jim, teasingly fluttering her fingers from his sides to his belly, making him guffaw and buck violently despite stopping short of his death spots.

Then she went to a shelf on the wall and retrieved two large, soft body brushes from a basket, which she fiendishly placed underneath Kirk’s belly right at his sweet spots on either side, so that when he started to wiggle and rock from side to side, they would tickle him exactly where he could least stand it.

And rock from side to side he did, screaming laughter at the first contact of the atrocious brushes against his cursed belly, uselessly trying to escape the devilish bristles that tickled worse than fingers or, in fact, anything the captain had ever felt. It was pure, unadulterated torture.

Leaving the captain to deal with this new, unendurable level of belly tickling, Rosie stepped over to McCoy’s table, and, locking eyes with Pixie behind the unsuspecting ticklish doctor’s back, viciously set to work on his sensitive soles at the same time as Pixie dug into his death spots, right between his armpits and ribs, once again.

It was unbearable. With his two most ticklish spots being so cruelly exploited at once, McCoy went ballistic and actually started to scream for help. Scared – and tickled – to death, he didn’t care anymore who saw him like this or found out about his excruciating ticklishness. And knowing that Jim, still rolling with helpless laughter, was unable to join in his shouts for help, the doctor grew really desperate.

But just as he thought he couldn’t take another second of this vicious torment, the door burst open and Nyota and Christine came barging in, pulling the girls and their diabolical fingers off him and ending his excruciating tickle torture. Poor Jim had to endure a few more seconds of this harrowing ordeal, until Uhura finally discovered what had him in such ticklish hysterics, and pulled the deadly brushes out from under the captain’s abused belly.

oOoOoOoOoOo

Beyond embarrassed, but nevertheless immensely grateful to their friends for having saved them, Kirk and McCoy were frantically trying to free their arms, anxious to avoid finding themselves helplessly exposed and vulnerable to another tickle attack.

“OK guys, massage is over, let’s get out of here!” Chapel exclaimed cheerfully, unable to resist poking the doctor’s ribs and delighting in how that brief touch made him jump.

When he wiggled around on the table, but still didn’t get up, she poked him again, to the same reaction plus an irritated growl, and asked, “What’s taking so long? Come on already!”

“I can’t,” he mumbled, visibly annoyed with his predicament, “You’ll have to help me free my arms.”

Chapel took a closer look, only now realising that McCoy’s hands were stuck in the armrests.

“This?” she chuckled incredulously. “Really? Getting a little tangled up in those flimsy armrests was all it took to render you completely helpless and vulnerable? How ticklish are you?”

“Yeah, yeah, rub it in, Christine,” the doctor grumbled. “Now just give me a hand here, will you?”

“Let’s just hope the Klingons and Romulans don’t get wind of this,” Uhura laughed, and Kirk let out a frustrated groan, he and McCoy turning pale at the very idea, the fear of being captured and tickle-tortured for real, for information, probably forever planted in their minds now.

“So, you really couldn't stop me from doing this to you?” Chapel asked, wickedly poking and clawing at McCoy’s ribs a few more times and eliciting frantic guffaws and some violent thrashing from the doctor.

“GAH! Dammit, Christine! AHAHAH! Don’t! AHAHAH! I’m warning you!”

“Sorry, Leonard, but I had to see it myself to believe it.”

“So, those brushes were really killing you, weren’t they?” Uhura grinned mischievously at Kirk, placing her hands on his sides, seizing her chance while he was still immobilised. “About here? On your belly?” She couldn't help it, she needed to coax that adorable laugh out of him once more. And seeing him practically hit the ceiling and fall into helpless, frenzied laughter from just barely wiggling her fingers against the sides of his belly, was simply the cutest thing ever.

“AAAHAHAHAH! Don’t be mean, Ny! GOD! STOHOHOHOP PLEASE! I can’t! AAAAHAHAHAH! Stop tickling me! AAAAAHAHAHAH!” Kirk spluttered, frantically squirming until she reluctantly stopped her assault.

Pixie and Rosie had long fled from the room, and Chapel and Uhura had stopped their teasing and were helping their friends off the tables and out of their ticklish predicament now. But not without indulging in some more “collateral” tickles, careful to make them look accidental, which wasn’t difficult in the highly sensitised state the men were in, and enjoying every single “accident”.

Once freed, the men quickly threw on their clothes and hurried out the door into the sunshine. They couldn’t get out fast enough, still panting heavily, sweat glistening on their foreheads and running down their necks, repeatedly smoothing down their shirts and trying to brush off the lingering ghost tickles.

“Do you want to press charges?” Uhura asked. “That was pretty unprofessional behaviour.”

“God, no!” the men glanced at each other, horrified, and Kirk gave Uhura and Chapel a stern look. “Not a word of this to anyone!”

“All right,” the women laughed. “We’re not telling a soul. But no more massages for you two! You’re way too ticklish, and we might not always be there to rescue you!”

“No more massages!” Kirk and McCoy promised from the bottom of their hearts. They were certainly never going to set another foot in a spa.

Disclaimer: Sadly, I own nothing of Star Trek

19 notes · View notes

trishvaylar · 3 years

Text

Maybe I just got lucky or maybe not, but I had a post in my drafts, a long one, written in two parts, about Rederina, I finished writing it, posted it but...it just got deleted, with no way for me to get it back unless I am to write it again right now. Well, seeing as there are only a few hours left until the Blacklist return with season 8, episode 03, and I am emotionally very uplifted right now (I was granted someone I love more then life, and that is inspiring, so much so writing a post I just spent over an hour finishing, from scratch, is not an ordeal at all, at least does not look like it anyway🤗) -I shall just do it again!

So, this Rederina post will contain two parts, the first about all the wrong reasons antis hate Rederina and the second about the sheer logic and inner magic and beauty of Rederina!

Shall we begin?

So, the first and foremost reason why there are Rederina-antis is that James Spader is a Man! Oh, of cause, he IS a man, there is no doubt in my mind about this and he has a great sex appeal, which we, women all around the world, feel very acutely. Yes, he is a man, but apart from that, he is although a great actor, whose gift comes from God! He could perfectly play a man who used to be a woman, no questions asked. Why would anyone object to that, if, when James'characters kissed a man in screen in Crash and in TV in the Office, I heard absolutely no objections to his chatacters' bisexualism. I see this as hypocricy and huge double standarts. I could also include an anti reason here that Rederina is anti-transgender. That is just stupid as fuck, because this is about love (Katarina's real reasons for changing her identity, which comes first, and gender switch comes in second, but I would elaborate on this in the second part of the post), not transgender rights I hugely respect.

So, I believe we are done with this reason, lets explore the others. And the top after mentioned above is the Daddygaters' reason. They believe Red is actually the real Reddington, Liz' Father. They create alaborate proofs of their theory, to explain why would Red make Liz believe she murdered her Father by shooting him when she was 4, why his remains were burried then dug up and then burned, if he, Red, was her Father all along. What Daddygaters do not recognize is that their elaborate explanations not only take the sound logic out of the show, but also make Red someone towards Liz he never was - a monster!

I really think this is enough talk about Daddygaters hating on Rederina.

The other reason for the antis is that we had The Witch listed as Katarina Rostova, number 3, on the blacklist. Oh well, this one is a piece of cake. It is a writing ruse used by many writers, ours just used this trick too. The moment I knew Red was an imposter, I knew we had to have an imposter Katarina, making her the name on the blacklist, very high up.

There is another reason, closely connected with the previous one: that Red and Katarina could not be one person, they have to be two people. I think this is very simple - The Witch is not Katarina, because WE KNOW KATARINA LOVES MASHA MORE THEN HER OWN LIFE! The Witch only cared for herself and her own survival, not about Liz. Mothers do not change like this, ever! Who else on the show loves Liz like this? Red, no one else. By that logic Red could ONLY be Katarina, Katarina could ONLY be our Red.

There are other, emotional, or plot-wise reasons for the antis to list, but they are minor and boring, we just talked about everything of any importance at all.

So we could light-heartedly pass to the second part of the post - the logic and inner beauty and magic of Rederina canon.

First and foremost Rederina is beautiful and logical because it tells the story of the greatest love of all, the Mother's love for her child. Look at what Katarina did in order to ensure her Daughter's safety - she forfeited her own identity, her personality, her self, not mentioning her Father, who never accepted the change and saw it as murder of who his daughter was, of her gender, her right to be Masha's Mother, to be with her. She entrusted Masha/Liz to Sam, who would ensure that Liz grew up emotionally safe, well protected, loved, taken care of, growing in the normal, non-criminal environment, with plenty of advise, money, guidince, smoothing the path done by Rederina. Because Katarina never planned to fully dissapear out of Liz' life. As Red (she chose to become Reddington for a few reasons - Reddington already existed, was dead, she knew everything about him, he was the Father of her only Daughter she literally adores, he was a man, by becoming him she could build that criminal Empire to counter any threat to Liz and to keep her, that is, Red, free and a very formidable enemy even in the eyes of the Cabal or anyone ever to try to topple Red or to trace Liz) she still influenced Liz' life, all aspects of it, but to Liz Red was only a notorious criminal, an he had to start from scratch in his relationship with the Daughter. When, in the end of season 7, Red answeres Liz' question by saying "you are the Daughter of Katarina Rostova", that sealed it for me. Liz inherits the Empire as the Daughter of the Mother, not as the Daughter of the Father, because, yes, Red has his name and face, but the soul is the Mother's!

In Cape May, where Katarina went alone 25 years ago, she tried to decide how to protect Masha. She was there alone. After "loosing" Liz Red goes to Cape May to try and find the spirit of the Woman, to ask one question - had his becoming Red to protect Liz failed to keep her from dying. His inner self, Katarina, could not answer that question, so Red goes to Dom, to THE PARENT, to try and get that answer. Eventually Dom and Aram lead Red to a belief Liz did not die as the result of that faithful choice.

We know Liz did not die, she tried to protect her own Daughter - Red understood, forgave without any discussion (but he did not forgive Mr Kaplan for hurting the Mother's heart), just stopped calling her Lizzy, for she is trully an adult in his eyes now. Red keeps forgiving, understanding, accepting Liz as only a Parent would. Those who wish Red to emotionally abandone Liz, they would never have their way.

I decided not to mention the romantic anti-rederina reason because that is soooo perverted in my mind I just can not bring myself to counter that with serious arguments. Romantic love is keen2 on the show, with the potential keenler, but romance between parent and child? No thank you! But having started the thread of emotional abandonement, I had to mention this one moment too.

So, Red seeks emotional support and advice from KATARINA'S FATHER? When it is a Parent Red needs? I mean, how more obvious could this get?

Then there is the fact that everything Liz ever finds out about her Mother, comes from Red. He tells Liz about what Katarina feared, how she loved Liz' Father, what she felt while being pregnant, what she felt after Masha was born, the photograph, of her and Masha, that her Mother is in her, even the diary and the time machine Liz got from Kirk - Kirk only came back into Liz' life thanks to seeing Liz and Red on TV together while they were on the run. The way Kirk and Red talk about Katarina is also very telling - Kirk tells what he remembers, and Red just adds personal details to what Katarina did, things only Katarina would really know. And Kirk would only accept help, the cure, from Katarina, for he knows - in her own way she cared...she cares still. That was one huge clue for me as to Rederina canon; Cape May was another; Dom was the next; even The Witch was just another clue.

Liz will know, eventually, who Red really is, and I hope she will hear it from him and all of us will:

I AM YOUR MOTHER!

That would be the most epic moment in the history of all the TV-shows in the last thirty years. Because that would prove the existance of the greatest love of all - the transending, unconditional, sucrificial, all-encompassing love ever existing in the world! The Blacklist, the show which is an ode to what makes our world worth living in: this kind of love which makes us human!

@katarinas-redemption with love and gratitude

#the blacklist #raymond reddington #rederina #Katarina Rostova

17 notes · View notes

isitgintimeyet · 4 years

Text

Road To The Aisles

AO3

So, eventually, here it is, the final chapter of this story. Thanks you all so much for taking the time to read this story and for all you likes, reblogs and comments. It means so much to me.

Special thanks to @mo-nighean-rouge, @wickedgoodbooks, @happytoobserve for all their support with this too

Warning: it’s their wedding night - will be nsfw under the cut

Chapter 25: A Happily Ever After?

“And what would humans be without love?"

RARE, said Death.

― Terry Pratchett, Sourcery

It was that time of the day, that brief lull in the wedding proceedings. The wedding breakfast had been consumed (creamy wild mushroom soup, the tastiest Scottish salmon fillet, and a classic cranachan to follow), speeches had been made (the usual mix of teasing ribaldry and genuine heartfelt sentiments), toasts had been given. The wine had been flowing freely, just enough to relax everyone, but with no-one yet drunk. The marquee was full of chatter as different social groups began to mingle and the band unpacked their equipment ready for the evening festivities.

Claire sat back in her chair and sipped her gin and tonic (strictly clear liquids only today to prevent stains on her dress). She gazed around, watching the comings and goings, the interactions of her and Jamie’s friends and family. One one side of the room, Geillis was holding court at a table, her hands gesticulating wildly, relating some hysterical anecdote judging by her audience’s reaction.

At another table, Mrs. Crook was feeding William stewed apple. After a bit of an unsettled start to the reception, William had quickly grown accustomed to the numerous unfamiliar faces and now seemed to be wallowing in all the attention, clapping his hands joyfully at every new effort to entertain him, even, most unusually, managing to distract him from his food.

In the corner across the room, Murtagh was giving Wee Jamie a piggyback whilst being chased by Brian with Maggie in his arms. And straight ahead was the unmistakable broad back and shoulders of Jamie... her husband. He was in conversation with John, but, somehow sensing her eyes upon him, he turned around. Their eyes met, each full of promise. A promise not just for tonight but for their future life together. Claire felt a tingle up her spine. Even across a room full of people, their connection was physical, alive, electric.

His gaze intensified, his eyes darkening as Claire felt her cheeks warm under his scrutiny. Then, clearly mindful of the effect he was having on her, Jamie flashed a bright, knowing grin and blew her a kiss before turning back to his conversation with John.

Claire briefly closed her eyes, breathing deeply. The scrape of a chair next to her forced her eyes open. Isobel perched next to her, greeting her with a broad smile.

“It’s been a wonderful day so far.”

Claire returned the smile. “Yes, it’s been just perfect. And thank you for looking after William during the ceremony.”

“My pleasure. I wasn’t actually sure he was going to behave, he was none too keen on leaving his dad’s side at first. But how cute is his little tartan outfit?”

“I know. Jamie had it made specially. Such a thoughtful thing to do.”

“I’m sure that’s not the only thoughtful thing he’s done for today. I bet he has a —“

The ringtone from Isobel’s phone interrupted the conversation. She glanced at the screen before declining the call. Without a word necessary, it was clear to Claire who the caller had been.

“Was that —?”

Isobel nodded. “I’m sorry.”

“No need to apologise.”

“She keeps wanting updates. It’s like she’s torturing herself. I’ve sent her a picture of William and one message saying the ceremony is over. I’m hoping this all gives her enough closure to move on. Anyway, enjoy the rest of the day, Claire, you both deserve it. And don’t worry about William when Jamie—“

“Ahem.”

Neither of them had noticed Jamie creeping up behind them. Both jumped slightly at his staged cough. He kissed Isobel gently on the cheek before holding his hand out to Claire.

“Isobel, mind if I steal ma bride away? I think the band are about ready fer the first dance.”

Isobel smiled and shook her head as Claire took her husband’s hand and let him lead her onto the dance floor.

The lights dimmed as the band struck up the opening chords of ‘Fly me to The Moon’. Jamie and Claire made their way to the centre of the floor to enthusiastic applause from all their guests. Jamie grinned, made a bow and, with a dramatic flourish, pulled Claire into him.

With her head on his chest, he rested his cheek against her curls and closed his eyes, savouring the sensations around him; the softness of her hand against his palm, the scent of her delicate perfume, the lyrics of their favourite song, the gentle sway of his wife’s body in time to the music.

“You are all I long for, all I worship and adore,” Jamie whispered softly. “In other words, please be true. In other words, I love you.”

Claire raised her head and smiled. “Love you too.”

As the song drew to a close, Jamie led Claire over to an empty table.

“I’ve a wee bit of a surprise, tonight, Sassenach. We willna be staying here this evening. A friend of Da’s owns the Loch Ness County House hotel and we’ve a suite there this evening. We’ll be back here tomorrow after breakfast, in time tae head back tae Glasgow.”

“But, what about —“ Claire began.

“Dinna fash,Sassenach. Everything’s sorted. Isobel is staying here tonight to take care of William and Geillis has packed yer overnight bag. It’s ready in the hall fer ye. And Da has taken care of transport. He’s called in a favour and we will be travelling there in style — a friend’s Aston Martin no less. What do ye think? I wanted our first night tae be special, no’ jes’ in ma bedroom at Lallybroch next tae ma airfix models and old rugby kit. Ye dinna mind, do ye?”

Claire wrapped her arms around Jamie’s neck and kissed him gently on his nose.

“Not at all. Our first night would be special wherever we are, but that sounds just about perfect.”

“Well then, Mrs Fraser, let’s go and enjoy the rest of our reception, before our own private celebration.”

******************

Claire gazed appreciatively around the hotel room as Jamie carried their overnight bags and placed them on a large blanket box at the foot of the enormous four poster bed. The room was definitely luxurious, in a suitably understated way. No rose petals on the bed, thankfully, or towels moulded into swans, but a platter of handmade chocolates and a bottle of champagne on ice next to two lead crystal champagne flutes.

She sighed happily and sat on the edge of the bed, bouncing gently on the mattress.

“Such a comfortable bed. I’ll have a fantastic night’s sleep in this.”

Jamie eyed her indignantly. “I dinna plan on sleeping, Sassenach.”

He moved closer, standing in front of her and took her hands in his. “When I first saw ye, in the kirk, ye took ma breath away. I couldna believe how beautiful ye looked in that dress… all day long, every time I saw ye. And now, all I want tae do is see ye out of it. I want ye naked next tae me.”

Claire eased herself off the bed and patted Jamie’s chest. “And there’s nothing I want more. Give me a moment.”

She leant past him and opened her bag. A cascade of tissue paper and a note lay on top. She read, in bold letters ‘TAKE THIS INTO THE BATHROOM, NOW … MRS FRASER.”

Ignoring Jamie’s quizzical stare, she gathered up the gift and paused briefly.

“Can you unhook me please?”

Jamie came up behind her and fumbled with the delicate hook and eye at the top of the zip. He eventually succeeded in unfastening it and then slowly drew the zip down Claire’s spine to her waist. His hands snaked their way underneath the fabric, fingertips lightly caressing her skin, trailing a path to her abdomen. She closed her eyes and gave a slight moan before pulling away.

“Pour the champagne, then, Jamie.I won’t be long.”

“Ye wee tease,” Jamie called after her. “D’ye ken what ye’re doing tae me?”

The bathroom, Claire noted, was as luxurious as the bedroom with a large whirlpool bath and a shower made for two (even those with Viking proportions). She put those thoughts aside as she ripped into the parcel.

Inside was another note from Geillis:

‘I ken the underwear you’re wearing now is pretty enough, but, as I told you before, you need something special for tonight. So have a wonderful night.

Your husband can thank me later.

Love you, G’

Inside was a short kimono. Claire held it up, admiring the bronze shimmering hue of the (very) sheer fabric. Nestled in the tissue paper beneath it was a matching bra and thong. She quickly shimmied out of her dress and pretty but practical white strapless bra and seamless panties and donned the new attire.

Staring at her reflection in the full length mirror, she twirled quickly around, watching the fabric shimmer under the lights. She had never worn anything quite like this before. The plunge, underwired bra was completely sheer with pale peach scalloped embroidery trims and tiny satin bows. Her nipples, already erect with anticipation, were clearly visible through the flimsy fabric. The thong, in the same sheer fabric, left her bottom exposed, with the short kimono barely covering her rear. She gave a final quick twirl to her reflection before opening the door into the bedroom.

Jamie lay on the bed in his white shirt and kilt. He quickly sat up as Claire sashayed to his side.

He swallowed hard. “My god, that… that… incredible.”

Claire smiled coyly. “You like it, then?”

“Are ye kidding? Ye look amazing… sexy…” He reached out and ran a fingertip gently around one nipple, then the other. “I feel a bit overdressed.”

He made to stand up but Claire placed her hands on his chest, forcing him to lie down. She climbed on to the bed and straddled him, her knees on either side of his hips. Leaning forward, her fingers fumbled for the buttons on his shirt, a small sound of satisfaction escaping her lips with each successful unbuttoning. Finally, she pulled the shirt open. Raking her fingernails down his chest, through the ruddy hairs, she watched, fascinated, as his nipples puckered and skin pebbled at the sensation.

Jamie groaned and raised his head, his mouth demanding access to her breasts. Instantly, she complied, moving up his body. He greedily drew a nipple into his mouth, rolling his tongue around the hard bud, relishing the shivers running through Claire’s body.

Claire gave a whimper of dissatisfaction as he pulled away, the air cold against the now sodden fabric of her bra.

“My bra’s all wet now,” she pouted, looking down at her chest.

“Hmm, now tell me, Sassenach, is that the only place ye’re wet?” One hand traced a path from her breast down her abdomen, resting lightly on the small triangle of fabric. “I think I need tae see.”

His hands moved to grip her bottom firmly, urging her further up his body. Claire hesitated for a moment.

“Are you sure?”

Jamie grinned up at her. “Oh aye, Mrs Fraser.”

With a bit of careful manoeuvring, Claire shuffled up the bed until her knees rested on the pillow, either side of his head. She leant forward slightly, resting her forearms on the ornate headboard. Jamie’s breath was warm against her thighs. His hands caressed her bottom, drawing intricate, random patterns over her skin.

The tiny sliver of fabric was no barrier as Jamie’s mouth began its exploration. Instinctively, Claire shuddered at the exquisite sensation and closed her eyes. Her breath grew ragged as his tongue stroked along her wetness before flicking the small nub. A bolt of pleasure coursed through her body, her muscles contracting as his lips began to suck, his tongue continuing its rhythmic assault on her core.

She slumped heavily against the headboard, now incapable of supporting herself, her body focusing solely on Jamie and the urgent climb towards release.

“Sassenach, open yer eyes. Look at me…” The low rumble of his voice created entirely new sensations on her sensitive flesh. “I want ye tae watch.”

She forced her eyes open and looked down to see his piercing blue eyes, watching her face intently. She watched transfixed as his tongue resumed its sensuous movements, swirling around her warm moistness. His face buried between her thighs was the most erotic sight she had ever seen.

Sensing her climax was near, Jamie increased the intensity. Claire moaned, throwing her head back.

“No, watch!” There was a sense of urgency in his muffled voice as, from behind, his fingers joined his lips and tongue in the pleasuring of her very core.

Claire felt her orgasm spread from deep in her belly, possessing every inch of her body. With a guttural cry of release, she came hard and fast.

Suddenly boneless, she fell to the side, one leg lying across Jamie’s chest. Still panting, she reached across and stroked her husband's cheek, her moisture glistening on his lips.

“Oh my god, thank you,” she whispered.

He turned to face her and drew her close to him.

“I love seeing ye like that, the uncontrollable, wild ecstasy on yer face. I canna tell ye what it does tae me.”

Claire’s hand moved from his cheek, down his chest to rest against his groin. His excitement was clear through the fabric of his kilt.

“You don’t need to tell me what it does to you... it’s pretty obvious.” She slowly stroked his erection.

Jamie grinned as he started to get up from the bed. “Let me take ma kilt off then.”

Claire shook her head. “No, don’t take it off. I want you to leave it on… please.”

“Well, then, just as well I’m a true Scot isn’t it? But,” he ran his fingers along the edge of her thong. “I think we need tae get rid of this wee thing afore we start on round two.”

“And, Sassenach, d’ye think we could mebbe try that again wi’ the camera?” He added hopefully.

Claire flung her arms around Jamie. “Oh, Jamie! How much do I love you?

***************

Jamie stood on the decking and watched the waves breaking on the clean, white sand. The location of this, their honeymoon hideaway, was perfect, the sunny weather was perfect, the promise of five nights, just the two of them, was perfect.

“Sassenach,” Jamie called in through the open patio doors. “What are ye up tae? Yer coffee’s here and it’s getting cold… as is yer husband.”

Claire wandered onto the deck and wound her arms around Jamie’s waist. “Jamie, I’m sorry. I know we’ve done the shopping already, but we need to head into the village, to the pharmacist.”

“Are ye ok? I’ve some paracetamol in ma bag.”

“I’m fine. I’ve done a stupid thing though. I can’t believe I’ve done it… and on our honeymoon.” Claire buried her head against Jamie’s back.

Jamie turned and wrapped his arms around his wife. “It canna be so bad. What is it?”

“I’ve left my pills at home. We’ll have to go and get some condoms.”

Jamie was silent for a moment.

“Sorry.” Claire apologised once more.

“Or mebbe we dinna bother with the pharmacist.”

“But a honeymoon with no sex? Is that what you really want?”

Jamie put his hands on Claire’s cheeks and stared intently at her face, searching for a glimmer of understanding.

“Nah, I think there’ll be plenty of sex. That isna what I’m saying.”

“Then—“ Claire’s expression changed as she realised what he was asking her. “You mean—“

“Aye, Sassenach, let’s make a baby.”

“Are you sure?”

“I’ve only ever been surer about one thing in ma life, and that’s turning out pretty well, Mrs. Fraser. So what say ye? D’ye think it’s a good idea or are ye no’ ready? I willna be upset if ye want tae wait a while.”

Claire pulled Jamie’s head down to hers and kissed him firmly on the mouth. “Yes, James Fraser. Let’s make a baby.”

#outlander fanfiction #outlander fanfic #Road To The Aisles #Chapter 25 #The End #Jamie Fraser #claire beauchamp #modern au

124 notes · View notes

flying-elliska · 3 years

Text

I caught up with Star Trek Discovery and I am SO HYPE for season 3 like !!!

Thoughts on s2 :

- I just love the crew as a whole so much, they might be my favorite crew or maybe I’m just being biased because this is the first time I’m watching a Star Trek show live and so it feels like ‘my’ Star Trek. And they’re diverse in a way other crews have rarely been, and I just love almost all of them individually, the actors are all great. I just wish we got to know more of them a bit better and I really hope s3 gives us more team bonding.

- s2 as a whole was...i don’t know. They had some truly amazing episodes (the one with Airiam, on Saru’s planet). I wasn’t fond of the Red Angel plotline for a long while, especially in the beginning where they tried to make it about religion which it really wasn’t. Or it being All About Michael, who already has a tendency to shoulder too many burdens already - and even though I adore her, I am tired of storylines that revolve around one character as savior figure. But I really got into it towards the end - Control was a terrifying villain and a real menace, and I loved everyone rallying around Michael, it really being about teamwork and them inspiring each other and deciding to follow her to the future because they love her so much, they’re her FAMILY and I think I just spent a big part of the last episodes crying. I mean, Star Trek makes me cry in general, I don’t know why exactly, maybe it’s the idea of a decent future, but those in particular wow

- The inclusion of Spock and Captain Pike often felt like fanservice, especially since their characters were given a lot of space at the expense of other regulars, which annoyed me at times, but overall it was pretty compelling. Pike is just very classic Star Trek, principled and handsome and genuinely kind - and that scene where we realize he actually knows his future now, ooof. And emo!Spock was very funny, his relationship with Michael was pretty compelling and wow, as a long time Spirk shipper, Michael telling him he needs to find somebody who understands him and tethers him (that’s obviously Kirk) gave me Feelings even tho can you imagine having a Forbidden Sister you can’t ever tell anybody about...

- Section 31 being presented as this necessary evil....noooooo

- Star Trek continues to be absolutely crap at writing romance on purpose. The Ash/Michael is just so...ugh. I loved Ash in the beginning but the whole Klingon storyline was just so deeply garbage in s1 that it tainted his whole character for me and their thing was just rushed and they tried to sell it as this super tragic romance but i never really got into it in the first place ? like why did they even like each other anyway ? And then Stamets and Culber...I like them in theory, I’m over the moon we are finally getting lgbt rep, it’s about DAMN TIME, but it’s so frustrating that all the plot they get is basically one of them suffering some awful physical predicament and then the other angsts about it it got old really fast. Culber’s trauma made sense but they never really explored it properly, him breaking up with Paul for no clear reason and then being oh no never mind was very ???? undercooked. They can do a lot better. I know that in shows like these any characters in romantic relationships are bound to suffer because their love ups the stakes, but I wish they’d add more depth to the whole thing.

- So I know that in theory Georgiou is a terrible person, and a very bad trope, as the evil promiscuous bisexual, and as is this idea that in the evil mirror universe everyone is bisexual and promiscuous, as if those two things make you Morally Corrupt but also like....she’s so much fun to watch. It’s like that tumblr post about the problem with gay villains, in that it’s bad to associate gayness and villainy but also nghhhhh evil lady hot. And she in general has this chaotic force of nature vibe that is incredibly rare to see in female characters, like she absolutely commands the space she’s in, but she can also dial it back and you never really know what she’s going to do next. And her whole ‘I don’t care about you MIchael but I’m still going to follow you to the future’ thing is very funny.

- I think some of the criticisms of the show are valid. It’s leaning a bit too much on twists and turns at times, a bit too focused on characters over worldbuilding, and they make some really stupid decisions but I still love this show so much and I just really believe it can grow into something extraordinary if given the time.

- Also, is Sonequa Martin Green the most beautiful woman in the universe ? Like this show is filled with beautiful people but damn

#star trek #star trek discovery #star trek disco #star trek disco s2 #discovery

14 notes · View notes

gojosgoddess · 4 years

Text

The Queen meets the Princess

Pairing: Jonathan Lyndale “DaBaby” Kirk x Black! Thicc reader

You finally meet Jonathan’s Princess.

Warnings: no warnings really, fluff

You rubbed your clammy hands against your thighs and bit your lip. You were waiting on Jon’s call as he went to pick up his daughter; Serenity, from his baby mama’s house. You were nervous as this would be your first time meeting the two year old toddler who you shared a key with to Jon’s heart. Your relationship had finally meet the bridge of meeting his child, and you were happy that your relationship was moving forward but the thought of meeting the adorable toddler scared you.

‘What if she didn’t like you? What if she thought you were trying to replace her mother? What if she cried when she met you and Jonathan breaks up with you? The ‘what ifs’ were swimming and doing laps in your mind as you looked in the mirror and fixed yourself

“Look girl, everything is going to be okay, Jon has spoken to her about you and he already assured that everything was going to be alright, so don’t worry.” You told yourself and nodded in affirmation. Your thoughts were cut off when you heard your phone ringing.

‘I keep it loaded when I ride cause I’m still a nigga

Fuck wit her to ease my mind, cause I be in my feelings’

You grabbed your phone and pressed answer.

“Hey boo.” You said smoothing out your outfit.

“Hey baby, wassup witchu? We outside mamas.” He said in his deep voice that just made you melt. You held your phone in your neck and grabbed your bag, walking down the stairs. “Okay baby, I’m on my way out now.” You said walking out the front door and locking it.

“Aight bae I see you coming out now.” He hung up as you looked up and saw him walking to you while holding Serenity’s hand. You breathed in and out as you placed your phone in your bag. You walked up to them and smiled at the father-daughter duo. Jon matched your smile while Serenity shyly stood behind her father’s leg.

“Ooh baby you lookin’ hella good right now, just wanna eat yo fine ass up right now.” He said once he brought you in for a hug and kiss. You gasped and lightly hit his shoulder. “Boy there is a baby present, what’s wrong with you?” You both laughed at each other before looking down at the pretty child.

“Baby, say hello to Daddy’s girlfriend.” He said in a soft voice which made coo in your head. She slowly came up from behind him. She waved at you with her thumb in her mouth. You waved back and she giggled, going back to her spot behind her father. You chuckled at the baby’s cuteness and crouched down to her level.

“Hey there little one, my name is Y/N, what’s yours?” You asked softly. She came up from behind Jon and held her little hand out. “My name is Serenity.” You raised your eyebrows and shook her hand. She honestly spoke so well for a toddler.

“Nice to meet you Serenity, that’s a very pretty name for a very pretty girl.” You tapped her little button nose and she started laughing.

“Look at my two babies getting along.” Jonathan said above you. “Come on girls, we need to start the day.” He said looking around. Both you and Serenity shared a look before looking at the love of your life. You sighed and stood straight, Jon grabbed your waist with his other hand and he picked Serenity up. She then started struggling in his hands.

“What’s wrong baby? We got to go.” Jon said confused. She then made grabby hands at you and Jon looked at you to see if it was alright. You nodded your head and smiled brightly. The young child smiled back at you as Jon passed her to you. You held her on your hip and made sure she was comfortable before walking with Jon again.

Jon kissed your cheek as he saw how comfy and natural you two looked. He didn’t say anything but he was a bit worried about how this morning was going to go but it seemed as things were heading in the right direction.

“I like your hair.” You heard the toddler whisper to you. You smiled and genuinely blushed before whispering back “thank you honey”. She then looked at her father and exclaimed “Daddy she called me honey!” She said with a smiled. You and Jon laughed before getting into the car and buckling her in.

The day went absolutely great, when you guys went out to eat, Serenity asked you to cut up her food and she kept admiring and playing with your hair. She even made you promise to do her hair the same way when you two see each other again. You all went shopping together and you bought her some clothes as well as shoes. The day was sadly over and she had to go back to her mother’s house. Her mother was picking her up so you got her things ready and gave her a juice box in the meanwhile.

“It was really nice meeting you today Serenity, you’re a very nice girl.” You said as you both sat on the couch side by side. She looked up at you and smiled, “Thank you, you a very nice lady too.” You both smiled at each other.

“I actually got a little gift for you.” Once you said that, she got excited and started jumping up and down in her seat. You told her to close her eyes and she placed her hands over her eyes while smiling brightly. You turned next to you to retrieve the collection of Woody, Buzz and the other characters from Toy Story. Jon stopped you to look you in your eyes and kiss you. “Thank you mamas.” He mouthed to you. You smiled and pecked his lips again. You turned back around to face the toddler.

“Okay baby, open your eyes.” She opened her eyes and literally screamed in happiness and kept speaking gibberish and pointing at the toys. You and Jon couldn’t help but laugh at her adorable freak out. She ended up hugging you tightly and repeatedly saying thank you. You picked her up and swayed her from side to side. You were so happy that she loved her gift.

“Shit I want some love too, y’all tryna cut a nigga out.” Jon said coming up behind you, holding you both and kissing Serenity’s cheek. “Daddy, don’t say that, that’s bad word.” She said sternly. “My fault baby, I’m sorry.” He said shaking his head. The sweet moment was disturbed when the doorbell rang. Jon stood up and you and Serenity separated and you packed her gift in her bag. She excitedly told you about all the adventures she would go on with her new friends. You could definitely see this was Jon’s baby.

“Serenity, come on babygirl, your Mama is here.” Jon said. You helped her down the couch and grabbed her bag and her hand as you approached Jon and his baby mama. You and his baby mama smiled at each other and nodded towards each other. There was never any bad blood between any of you for the sake of Serenity and also, it would be pointless.

“Hey baby, say goodbye to your dad and Y/N so we can go home okay?” She said with a small smile. Serenity nodded her head and Jon picked her up to give a goodbye kiss and place their foreheads on each other and give eskimo kisses, you felt your heart cooing as you took in the adorable sight. She then reached for you and you took her into your hands and she kissed your cheek, making you the same and she hugged you tightly, waiting for you to hug her back before she allowed you to give her to her mother.

You and Jon watched them get into their car and back out the driveway causing you to wave at them. You closed and locked the door when Jon grabbed you by your waist.

“Thank you again for today mamas, I really appreciate everything.” He said looking in your eyes. You smiled and wrapped your arms around his neck. “Anything for you my love, plus I loved meeting her, you really did a good job raising that beautiful girl Jon.” You told him. He looked bashful and looked down before looking back up at you. He thanked you by kissing you and softly picking you up and taking you to your shared bedroom. “Been wanting to get in this ass since I saw you.”

dababy

Liked by stunna4vegas, theestallion and 1,266,355 others

dababy My Queen (Y/IG/N) & My Princess

View all 250,000 comments

theestallion This is the cutest thing, I swear!!!

stunna4vegas My niece & my sister-in-law looking like fam already

y/IG/n

Liked by theestallion, badgalriri and 1,407,888 others

y/IG/n Snuck away from @dababy big head ass to take pictures with my favourite person

View all 498,921 comments

theestallion My favourite hot girl and hot baby together!!

dababy @y/IG/n Girl you gone stop coming for my head, plus you love my head anyway & @theestallion don’t make me split y’all up now

__________________________________________________________

A/N: I hope you guys enjoyed this, I wanted to try fluff since it’s been awhile since I had written anything fluff related, let me know if you would like to be added to the tag list down below.

Tags: @fullofmelaninsarcasmandepression

~Natascha

#Natascha's Works #DaBaby x Reader #DaBaby #Dababy x black! reader #DaBaby x black!thick! reader #Fluff #DaBaby Fluff

35 notes · View notes

brideofedoras · 4 years

Text

Hungry Eyes

Disclaimer: the usual

Word count: 3900+

Rating: 18+

Warnings: Head injury, terrible flirting, amusing reaction to medication, concussion and old-fashioned doctoring

Notes: I struggled for a few months writing this one. Yesterday I finally found my muse and it totally got away with me. I wanted to incorporate a birthday in it, since thefanficfaerie just celebrated hers and I will be celebrating mine this Friday! It’s a long one! Enjoy!

**Accidentally posted to my main blog, which is still flagged as “sensitive (stupid tumblr!). Reposting here so no one has issues reading!

Hungry Eyes (Star Trek AOS Leonard McCoy x female Reader)

“McCoy to Enterprise, Scotty, do you read me?” Leonard paced ten steps further away from the cave he’d found and tried again. “McCoy to-- dammit! If anyone can hear me, this is McCoy. Ensign Y/L/N and I are still stuck on this godforsaken rock, Y/L/N has a head injury that needs immediate medical attention and I’m not liking the looks of the purple clouds building on the horizon!” He snapped the communicator shut and shoved it in his pocket before stalking back to the cave. “No luck, Darlin’,” he sighed heavily, ducking down to avoid hitting his head on the low overhang. “Looks like we’re stuck.”

Y/N’s eyes fluttered shut. She groaned. “I’ve had worse birthdays,” she said after a moment. She shifted on the hard ground and whined when pain shot through her head from the movement.

Leonard dropped to his knees beside her. “Today’s your birthday?” His brow furrowed over his hazel eyes as he fished his tricorder from his pocket to run another scan.

She nodded. “Uh-huh,” she opened her eyes to look up at him despite the blinding pain shooting through her head from the gesture. “If I’m stranded on a strange planet on my birthday, I’m glad I’m stranded with you,” she managed a weak smile.

The doctor grabbed his bag where he’d set it by her booted feet. “Sugar, I don’t know if I’d count that as a good thing,” he warned as he pulled out his medkit and popped it open. He grabbed a hypospray, “I’m the worst person to be stranded with.”

Y/N watched him load the device. “You’ve been the perfect companion so far,” she squeezed her eyes shut when his fingertips grazed her neck.

He snorted. “I dragged you out of that ravine, field-dressed your head, carried you over my shoulder up another damned hill and made you lay down on this damp, hard ground. Hardly the perfect companion, Sweetheart.”

“You did what you had to do to get me to a safe location and call for transport,” she flinched when he administered the hypo. She sighed when he began to massage the injection site. “How long before it kicks in?”

“Shouldn’t take too long,” He pulled his hand away. “Once it kicks in I’ll stitch up that gash on your forehead. I’d rather do it in my Medbay in a sterile environment, but I can’t risk infection setting in if I don’t act now.”

She frowned and whined again in pain. “Owww… You didn’t give me pain medication?”

“I did, before I dragged you out of that ravine,” he frowned back. “This is a local anesthetic.”

“A local…” Her eyes widened. “If… If I say something weird or do something weird, I apologize now,” she reached up to cover her face. “I don’t handle any anesthetic very well…”

Leonard’s eyes narrowed as he caught her hands. “Don’t touch your forehead, Sweetheart. Now, what do you mean you don’t handle anesthetic very well?” His eyes searched hers. He reached for the medkit to grab the penlight he kept in there.

“Your eyes are so beautiful,” she sighed.

He looked up sharply. “Hell,” he muttered under his breath. “This wasn’t in your medical records…”

“Not allergic, just… you’re really sexy when you frown like that,” she smiled. “Everyone else finds it scary… not me. I really like it.”

“Dammit all to hell,” he swore quietly. “All right, can you feel anything?”

“I feel all floaty,” her eyes slid shut. “Am I dreaming?”

“Maybe,” he muttered. “Sweetheart, I’m going to shine this light in your eyes. I need to check your pupils.” “Nothin’ wrong with my eyes, Dr. McCoy, I can see just fine,” she murmured. “You get this dimple when you frown, right here,” she reached up and nearly smacked his nose when she tried to touch the divot between his eyebrows. “It’s adorable.”

Leonard could not help but chuckle at her. “That’s one word nobody has ever used to describe anything about me, Sweetheart,” he admitted.

“They’re idiots, every last one of ‘em.”

“Keep your eyes on that dimple, this light is bright, but I gotta check,” he warned.

“Okay.”

He turned on the light and quickly shined it in her right eye, then the left. Her pupils did not constrict. His frown deepened. “All done, Sweetheart,” he turned off the light and tucked it away. “No promises, but I am going to try to be as gentle as I can stitchin’ ya up.”

“‘Kay… If we were home… would you just use the dermal?”

“Not yet,” he shook his head. “Cut’s a little too deep for the regen, Y/N. I’d still stitch it up. The dermal would be to further advance the healing and lessen the chances of scarring.”

“You have a scar,” she reached up again to touch his chin and the scar below his lip. “Right here. Scars are sexy.”

“No, they’re not,” he groaned at her soft, uncoordinated touch. He gently caught her hand and lowered it to her stomach. “Can you keep your hands to yourself so I can stitch you up?”

“I don’t know about that…” she sighed. “How’d you get that scar?”

He groaned. “I’ll tell you about it as I stitch you up, how’s that? I’m gonna try to comm the Enterprise again before I start, though. Sit tight.”

“Not goin’ anywhere,” her speech slurred slightly as he stood up.

“I know, Sweetheart,” he shot her a worried frown before turning away.

He stalked out of the cave as he pulled his communicator out of his pocket. “McCoy to Enterprise.”

“Bones!” Jim’s voice crackled and faded slightly. “We’ve-- trying-- comm you-- we lost your --nal!”

“Slow down, Kid, you’re breaking up,” Leonard paced further from the cave’s mouth until the unit stopped crackling. “Ensign Y/L/N and I are holed up in a cave at the moment. She’s got a head injury I need to stitch up and a concussion on top of it.”

“Shit.”

“Yeah,” he echoed Jim’s sentiment. “Transporter down?”

“Yeah, Scotty’s working on it,” the captain relayed. “Could be hours. I’d send a shuttle, but Spock doesn’t like the looks of that storm brewing.”

“I’ve seen worse,” the doctor eyed the swirling purple clouds.

“Doctor, we do not have any data on storms for this planet,” Spock’s voice chimed in.

He rolled his eyes. “I’d rather not risk a shuttle anyway, with Y/N’s concussion. Does Scotty have a time frame?”

“No,” Jim groaned. “I’m hoping it won’t be all night, Bones.”

“If it is, I’m somewhat prepared,” he grimaced, looking over his shoulder toward the cave. “You always give me crap about keeping my medkit and mission bag stocked up with more than what I could possibly need, but Y/N will be thanking me for it later.”

“How bad is it, Bones?”

He snorted. “You remember how drunk the kid across the hall in the dorm got from one glass of Saurian brandy?”

“Half a glass, he was butchering ‘Tubthumping’,” Jim chuckled.

“Y/N can’t handle a local anesthetic…” he trailed off when he heard something coming from the cave. “Shit, she’s singing now,” he groaned.

“What was she doing before?”

“Flirting.”

“Ensign Y/L/N doesn’t flirt,” the captain sounded amused. “She gets tongue-tied around you, Bones.”

“I know,” he sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. “She’s either going to forget all about this, with the concussion, or she’s going to remember it all and avoid me like the plague out of sheer embarrassment.”

“Out of curiosity, what’s she singing?”

Leonard rolled his eyes. “Sounds like an old Earth song,” he moved closer to the cave and strained to listen. “Can’t believe I’m doing this…”

“Get close enough so I can hear it,” Jim told him.

“With these hungry eyes… one look at you and I can’t disguise, I’ve got hungry eyes… I feel the magic between you and I…”

Laughter erupted from the comm.

“What’s so damned funny, Kid? She’s injured, she’s got a concussion, she’s having a reaction to the meds I gave her, and we’re stranded!” Leonard barely reined in his temper.

“Song’s from an old movie, Dirty Dancing. Nobody puts Baby in the corner? Jo Jo loves it,” Jim explained. “I… uh… I teased Y/N about the way I caught her looking at you. Told her she had hungry eyes.”

“You what?!?!?!” the doctor exploded. “Dammit, Jim!”

“Relax, Bones, all I said to her was ‘you’ve got hungry eyes’, I made sure no one heard me say it, and told her to stay safe on the mission.”

“What the hell does that even mean, hungry eyes?”

“She likes you. She’s just too shy to do anything about it. She still singing?”

“No,” Leonard frowned worriedly. “I’ll check in once I’ve got her stitched up. If Scotty gets that transporter fixed before I check in, tell him to not beam us up.”

“You got it. Kirk out.”

He snapped the comm shut and jogged back into the cave. “Sorry, Darlin’, transporters are still down and it looks like we might be here all night,” he kneeled down beside Y/N. “Y/N?” He took her face in his hands and brushed the tears away with his thumbs. “No, no, Sweetheart, what’s wrong?”

“I thought you left me behind,” she sniffled. “I’m sorry if I said anything embarrassing to you, I don’t want you to hate me.”

“I could never hate you, Darlin’,” he shook his head. “Let’s get you fixed up and settle in for a while.”

She nodded and groaned. “I might throw up on you,” she warned.

“Wouldn’t be the first time anyone has,” he chuckled. “My ex-wife threw up on me a few times. She drank too much at a party in college, then morning sickness. My daughter threw up on me a lot before we figured out the formula she was on irritated her stomach. Jim’s puked on me a few times after a long night of partying.” He pulled back. “Let’s get you comfortable and cleaned up before I start stitching up your forehead.”

“Okay,” she sniffed. “Can you… can you talk to me? While you stitch me up? I’ve… never had stitches and I’m scared,” she admitted.

“I promised I’d tell you how I got this scar, didn’t I?” He smiled as he pointed to his chin. He shifted back a little to unzip his flight suit. He shrugged out of the sleeves and let the top fall before pulling off the long-sleeved black shirt he wore beneath it. “Can’t have the cuffs of my sleeves contaminating the wound while I stitch ya up,” he explained. He folded the shirt and leaned over her. “I’m gonna slip this under your head for now.”

“Why can’t this be mandatory uniform?” Y/N lightly tugged at the snug black tank top he had on. “Better ‘n the tunics…”

“I’ll pass your recommendation along, Darlin’,” he felt his cheeks warm. “It’s too cold on the ship, if you ask me. Don’t know how you ladies handle wearin’ the dresses with the short sleeves all the time.”

“Tights and cardigans,” she closed her eyes. “Commander Spock approved it for those of us who get cold easily.”

“Could be something as simple as a change in daily vitamin regimen, Darlin’,” he murmured, grabbing for his medkit. He pulled out the mini sanitizing wand. “Let’s get everything sterilized here. Are ya still feelin’ numb?”

“Yeah,” she closed her eyes. “Your voice is soothing…”

He smiled. “Never been told that before, I’m accused of yelling most of the time.”

“At the captain and the engineers,” she nodded. “You never yell at us scientists.”

“I never yell at the sensible ones,” he agreed, setting the wand back in the kit. He grabbed the suture needle and suture thread. “Tell me if you start to feel any pain, all right? I can’t administer another anesthetic or pain hypo until these wear off, but I have something that will help. I’m not supposed to have it, it’s against regulations, but I’ve got it labeled for medical use.”

“I’ve heard rumors of a flask of bourbon,” she grimaced.

“Not a drinker?”

“I prefer fruity flavored drinks.”

He frowned thoughtfully, storing that little bit of information away. “Here we go,” he warned. “About the scar on my chin… I was ten at the time, in the fourth grade. We had a new student transfer in after winter break. Cute little brunette. I wound up developing a huge crush on her. But she never paid any attention to me. Never looked my way, always just walked right by and ignored me. One Friday afternoon it was warm out, the teacher decided to give the class a twenty minute break from learning and took us outside to the playground. I very unwisely decided to show off and attempted a handstand on top of the jungle gym. Ten feet off the ground, top of the damned slide. One minute I’m balanced on my hands, arms shaking, the next I decide to attempt it with one hand… and I fall. Busted my chin open on the slide, broke my arm when I tumbled off. Mom about had a heart attack when she came to pick me up, and Dad… he just shook his head and asked if I got the girl’s attention.”

“Did you?”

He frowned at the subdued tone in Y/N’s voice. “No. We later found out she wasn’t interested in boys at all, she had a crush on my sister’s best friend. Wouldn’t have done me any good anyway, my parents wouldn’t let me date until I got my license and a job.” He grinned, “One good thing came out of trying to show off, though.”

“What’s that?” She winced when he pushed the needle through for the seventh stitch.

“You all right, Darlin’?”

“I felt that one,” she admitted.

“Three more after this one, do you want to try the bourbon?”

She started to shake her head but stopped. “N-no.”

“Okay. Tell me if you change your mind,” he told her. “Now, where was I…”

“What was the good thing about showing off?”

“Ah… That’s right. My dad was a doctor, so Mom took me straight to the hospital where he worked. Even though he couldn’t stitch me up himself he recorded it because he knew I was interested in following his footsteps. Mom thought he lost his mind, but Dad pointed out that this might cement my decision one way or another on becoming a doctor. Now, I’ll admit, I threw up the first time I watched the video. Hell, I threw up when they set my arm before they put it in an air cast until I could be scheduled for surgery. That was recorded, too. Even though I threw up, I thought it was the neatest damned thing I’d ever seen and told my parents I definitely wanted to become a doctor. I wanted to become a surgeon… Sorry, Darlin’, one more stitch to go.”

“And now you’re the chief medical officer on the flagship of Starfleet,” she smiled.

“I am,” he nodded. “I still perform surgeries as needed, but I get to do so much more than what I did when I was still in Georgia. And I’m really glad I joined Starfleet.” He finished off the last suture. “There we go,” he murmured.

Y/N’s eyes slid shut. “I’m glad you joined, too…”

Leonard fumbled as he dropped the needle, scissors and forceps into the medkit and grabbed the hypo and a vial containing antibiotics. “One more hypo to fight off any possible infection,” he warned. “Then I’ll wrap you up and comm the Enterprise once more. Are you hurting?”

“Yeah… a little,” she admitted. She whimpered when he administered the antibiotic.

“I know, Sweetheart,” he massaged her neck. “Want that bourbon now?”

“No.”

“Okay,” he grabbed the gauze. “Can you sit up for me?”

Y/N shifted onto her elbows before groaning. Leonard reached out and helped her sit up. “There we go,” he steadied her. “I’ll help you lay back down after I wrap your head. Can you hold this in place for me?” He held up an antibacterial pad.

Y/N reached up. “Okay.”

Leonard looped the gauze around her head three times. “Now hold this so I can cut it and tie it off. There we go,” he dipped his head to check her eyes before he eased her back down. “Need anything before I comm the captain?”

She shook her head.

“All right,” he squeezed her shoulder before moving away from her.

He pulled the flight suit’s sleeves on once more and zipped it up as he headed for the mouth of the cave. “McCoy to Enterprise.”

“Good news, Bones, transporter’s fixed,” Jim answered.

“Good,” Leonard let out a relieved sigh. “I’ll pack my kit and get Y/N. Oh, and Jim?”

“Yeah, Bones?”

“Can you do me a huge favor, I need a slice of birthday cake and a candle ready for Y/N. It’s her birthday.”

“Okay, I can do that,” the captain agreed. “Bones?”

“Yeah?”

“You gonna tell her you like her, too?”

“Shut up,” he snapped the comm shut and headed back to the cave. “Good news, Darlin’, Scotty’s got the transporter fixed!” He kneeled down beside her and smiled when he realized she had fallen asleep.

He silently packed up his kit and slipped everything into his backpack and shouldered it. He eased his arms under Y/N and lifted her to his chest before pushing to his feet with a grunt.

The transporter room of the Enterprise had never looked more welcoming. Leonard nodded a thanks to Scotty before making his way toward the nearest Turbolift.

After leaving instructions with the nurses to clean Y/N up, get her settled and start running scans he headed for his quarters to clean up. He was not one bit surprised to find Jim waiting when he came out of the bathroom after a quick shower.

“Did ya tell her?”

“She was sleeping, Jim,” he rolled his eyes. “Now if you don’t mind, I’d prefer to get dressed in private.”

“You keeping her in Medbay for observation?” Jim watched his best friend disappear into the bedroom.

“Yeah. She hit her head pretty hard when she fell,” Leonard glanced over his shoulder to make sure the captain had not followed. He dropped his towel and started dressing. “I hated just leaving her in medical but I needed to clean myself up so I’m not contaminating a sterile environment.” He walked out of the bedroom with a clean tunic in one hand, boots and socks in the other. “Any reason you’re still here?”

“Just checking on my best friend,” Jim turned away from the photos lining the wall separating the living and sleeping spaces in Leonard’s quarters. “Must’ve been quite a shock to learn the girl you like likes you back.”

“Yeah,” he dropped onto the sofa. “Not gonna act on it, though, she was under the influence of a head trauma and medication.”

“If she doesn’t remember, are you gonna tell her?”

“Only if she asks,” he raked a hand through his hair before leveling a glare on the captain. “Don’t you dare tease her about any of this.”

“I won’t,” Jim drew an X over his heart.

“Or me.”

He chuckled. “That’s not a promise I will make,” he shook his head. “When do you want the cake and candle?”

“Before the end of the day,” Leonard pulled the tunic on and stood up. “I need to get back to medical and check on the scans I had my team run.”

“Anything else you need?”

He stopped halfway to the door. “No,” he shook his head. “Can’t exactly sneak a cocktail into medbay without the nurses demanding to know where their’s is.”

Jim laughed. “You forget who you’re talking to, Bones,” he walked by the doctor and slapped his shoulder. “I’ll see what I can do.”

“I was kidding about the cocktail,” Leonard glared at him.

“I know,” the captain let himself out.

It was late when Y/N stirred. She groaned as she opened her eyes.

Leonard was sound asleep, slouched in the chair beside her with a blanket draped over him (likely from one of the nurses). His hand cradled hers on the bed. A small rolling bed table sat in front of him with a reusable water bottle and a clear container holding, of all things, a cupcake with a candle. She smiled as she shifted her hand under his.

The doctor startled awake. “You in pain?” He asked, his hazel eyes immediately focusing on the biobed monitor to check her vitals.

“A little,” she admitted. “Is… is that a cupcake?”

Leonard gave her a sheepish smile. “Yeah, it is. Thought I’d get one for ya for your birthday.”

“Thank you.”

“My pleasure, Darlin’,” he squeezed her hand. “Other than a little pain, how are you feeling?”

“Disoriented,” she shrugged. “I had some weird dreams, Dr. McCoy,” she looked over at him. “Not weird… That’s not the right word…”

He frowned. “What were they about? Sweetheart, I’m not being nosy. I’m only asking to make sure it’s not something indicative of a more serious head injury.”

She grimaced. “They’re… embarrassing,” her eyes shot up to his and away before he could study her pupils.

“Y/N, no need to worry about being embarrassed if it means helping me diagnose you better,” he shifted in the chair to lean forward. “You don’t have to go into detail if you don’t want to, just give me enough to work with.”

She nodded. “Can I sit up, please?”

He reached forward to press a control to raise the head of the bed. “Here,” he stood to adjust the pillows for her. “How’s that?”

“Better,” she smiled shyly. “I… um… I know I fell and hit my head and the transporter malfunctioned.”

“Yeah,” he sank down into the chair again and took her hand.

“My memory is fuzzy after that,” her eyes dropped to their hands. “But my dreams… I dreamed we were in a cave where you were taking care of me. And I was saying things completely out of character to you.”

“Out of character… how?” Leonard squeezed her hand.

She shook her head and shrugged her shoulders. “I’m the quiet, shy type, not bold and… flirty,” she whispered the last word. She let out an embarrassed giggle. “I, uh, dreamed I was flirting. Badly. And singing.”

He cleared his throat. “You’re rememberin’, Sweetheart,” his voice was low, his Southern drawl coming out. “And the flirting wasn’t bad. Trust me, the captain’s my best friend, I’ve seen him in action.”

She groaned. “I am so sorry,” she pulled her hand free to cover her face.

He caught her hands. “No need to apologize, Y/N,” he smiled. “Don’t apologize, don’t feel embarrassed. We’ll talk about this when you’re feeling better, all right?”

“Can I have that cupcake?”

“Let’s start with something bland first, you were nauseous earlier,” he grinned. “But I can’t light that candle for you to make a wish on, not in here.”

“You’re already holding my hand,” she smiled back. “My wish already came true.”

He stood up and leaned forward to brush a soft kiss to her cheek. “Happy birthday, Darlin’,” he murmured.

#3500 follower celebration #star trek #leonard mccoy x female reader #head injury #concussion #terrible flirting #happy birthday!

62 notes · View notes