#its office sex and clearing the desk in a single sweep

[noblehcart]

💘 -Steffinn

Send me 💘 and I’ll post a song that would fit a ship between our muses @walkingshcdow

Feeling Good - Michael Buble

#walkingshcdow #ok but this song fits both their dynamics #its the bg sound to finngan walking into work look sharp/hot af just cool and badass #but it fits also a helicopter coming down with stefan climbing down with his aviator glasses #it fits them making out in the elevator and the doors open and they both stride out like smug bastards #its office sex and clearing the desk in a single sweep #its hands ripping off clothes #its cool and sophisticated with that hint of dark edge #its bourbon in the library but leather and the bike #itis theemmm

[hercleverboy]

the beauty of falling in love

spencer reid x reader

summary ↠ spencer is determined to show the reader just how beautiful love can be.

category ↠ angst/fluff

warnings/includes ↠ mentions of sex, swearing.

word count ↠ 4.5k

“Hug me like the night holds the moon.” — Alexandra Vasiliu

Falling in love with her was never a choice. 

It started slowly, building up over the first few months since she’d joined the team. He often lost his train of thought when he was around her, stumbling over his words and getting flustered easily when she paid him a single ounce of attention. 

And then one day, it hit him. All at once. 

He was in love with her. 

At first, he was filled with an unimaginable guilt.

He’d only lost Maeve just two years prior, and it felt like he was betraying her, to find himself in love with another woman.

But when he looked at her, it was like nothing he’d ever felt before. Not even with Maeve. Maeve was his first love, and he was hoping that Y/N would be his last.

Spencer knew he was more confident now than he had been a few years back. No longer was he an awkward boy who couldn’t gather up the nerve to ask a girl out. Despite all the hurt that had come from losing his first love, it’d definitely taught him a thing or two. He longed to feel the warmth and giddiness that came with falling in love with someone, to be consumed by another’s affections. 

As the age old cliche goes, Y/N seemed oblivious to Spencer’s yearning. Though it wasn’t entirely her fault, as his idea of flirting wasn’t exactly obvious to the subject of his desire. 

He’d bring her coffee from her favourite little shop on chilly winter mornings, watching as her face lit up with joy and feeling the familiar tenderness fill him, knowing he was the reason she was smiling. Of course, Y/N only interpreted the act as a friend buying another friend a drink, when it really was so much more than that. 

When his attempt at showing her that he wanted to be more failed, he went back to the drawing board, brainstorming other ways he could tell her he loved her without ever actually having to say the words. 

His second approach came in the form of touch. More specifically, not being so uptight over touch. He wasn’t going to push himself to a point where he would be uncomfortable, but he was going to be a little more open to touch. And besides, if it came from Y/N, he figured he wouldn’t mind it at all. The approach was executed for the first time on the way home on the jet after a case that had shaken the entire team. He sat next to her as he always did, but this time he reached out his hand, that was trembling ever so slightly to place over her own shaking hands. She looked up from her lap, facing Spencer with a shocked look on her face. Sure, they’d hugged and such before, during dinner nights at Rossi’s or after they experienced a ‘I thought I lost you’ moment in the field, but never had he shown that level of affection before.  

He took it another step further. The next time they were on the jet, it was late, and the team were exhausted after spending days in a row awake as they worked a gruelling child abduction case. It had ended pretty well, with the child home safe and the unsub in custody, but the entire team had practically passed out as soon as they were sat in the soft leather seats of the jet. Y/N had fallen asleep next to him, her neck bent at an angle that couldn’t have been comfortable. Seeing this, Spencer placed down the book he was reading on the table in front of him, quickly glancing around the jet to check that the team were asleep, mostly so Morgan wouldn’t tease him for what he was about to do. 

He gently moved his arm, placing it around her shoulder and smoothly guiding her body to rest against his, her head dropping down onto his shoulder in a much more comfortable position than it was before. He succeeded in not waking her, smiling down at her when she nestled her face into the crook of his neck as she slept, her small hands gripping onto the fabric of his sweater vest as cute soft snores left her lips. 

When the pilot announced they were due to land within the next few minutes, Spencer gently shook Y/N awake, hoping that he wouldn’t startle her. She blinked her pretty eyes open slowly, taking in her surroundings. She smiled a little when she noticed the position she’d been sleeping in, sitting up. spencer tried not to seem too upset when she pulled completely away from him. 

“Sorry, didn’t mean to use you as a human pillow.” She joked. 

He pushed his slight upset aside, forcing a small smile. “It’s okay. You were sleeping in a position that would’ve hurt your neck if you stayed in it, so I figured my shoulder would be better for you.” He tried so hard to pour as much sincerity and sentiment into the words as he could, hoping and praying she’d read between the lines. 

She didn’t. She simply patted his chest, murmuring a small ‘thank you’, before buckling her seat belt for landing. 

Spencer was starting to lose hope in his subtle approach, part of him figuring he was just going to have to come right out and say it- ‘I love you and I have done for months now.’ 

One evening, after a tiring paperwork day in the office, Spencer looked around the bullpen to see that everyone else on the team had gone home. Himself and Y/N were the only ones still packing up. Feelings aside, they were close friends, and normally waited for one another to pack up before walking out together to their cars. 

Y/N threw the strap of her handbag over her shoulder, eyes sweeping over her desk to make sure she hadn’t forgotten anything. She turned around, walking toward the exit of the bullpen as she glanced over to Spencer, who was placing a book inside his satchel. 

“You ready to go?” She asked. 

He threw his satchel strap over his shoulder, nodding as he followed her out to the elevators. 

As they waited for the elevator, Y/N took note of how fidgety he seemed. His fingers played anxiously with the leather strap of his bag, teeth sinking into his bottom lip as he looked down at his shoes. A ding sounded out, the doors opening before them, Spencer gesturing with his hand for her to go in first- ever the gentleman. 

Y/N waited a moment to see if he would start talking, like he usually did, rambling about something or other. However, he seemed uncharacteristically quiet, his eyes trained on the floor. She could practically hear the cogs turning in his head. She decided she’d just start talking to fill the silence, knowing that Spencer would speak when he wanted to. 

At the sound of her voice, his eyes snapped up to her face. He wasn’t listening to what she was talking about, instead his eyes lingered on her facial features, memorising every freckle, the blush on her cheeks and the passion in her eyes as she spoke. His mind swam with possibilities.

How am I supposed to make a move? I’m obviously going to have to be more upfront about it so she gets the message.

They exited the elevator once it reached the lower level car park. She turned to Spencer with an unsure smile, wanting to ask if there was something wrong but deciding against it. “Well, I’ll see you tomorrow.” With that, she gave him a simple wave and headed off in the direction of her car. 

Spencer stood there, watching her walk away as his brain worked at a thousand miles a minute to come up with something to say- 

“Wait up!” He called after her, speeding to follow after her. She turned around at the call of her name, confused as she saw Spencer coming after her. 

“Everything okay?”

“Yeah- it’s just, its late. Let me walk you to your car.” He proposed, saying the first thing he could think of that would buy him some more time. 

Y/N’s face showed that of surprise, but she nodded, nonetheless. “Okay. Thanks, Spence.”

Once they reached her car, she turned to face him with a small smile. “Well, thanks again. I’ll see you tomorrow?” She opened her car door, throwing her bag inside first onto the passenger seat. 

Spencer’s mind was in overdrive, trying to think of what to do. How could he make it clear to her? 

He could only think of one thing.

When she turned back around to face him, she let out a gasp at the feeling of his lips on hers. His hands cradled her cheeks gently and his lips pressed against her own. The action shocked her, and before she had much of an opportunity to kiss back or even think about what was happening, he’d pulled away. 

His eyes darted across her face, trying to gage her reaction and his hands fell from her cheeks, hanging by his side as he took a few steps back. “I’m sorry, I don’t know why I did that I-“ He squeaked, trying to think of what he could say to make the situation any better. Instead, he swallowed his nerves and just decided to come out with it all. There was really no going back now. “No- I do know why I did it. I love you, Y/N. I have done for months. You don’t have to say anything, I just wanted you to know, that’s all.”

Y/N still had that shocked expression on her face as she choked out. “You- you love me?”

“Yes.” Spencer whispered, afraid to say the words.

“Oh.” Y/N started, her mouth opening and closing as she desperately tried to find the right words to explain herself. “I don’t really know what to say.”

“It’s okay. You don’t have to say anything, it’s clear I shouldn’t have done that. I’ll see you tomorrow.” Spencer cringed, quickly turning around and heading towards his own car.

“Spencer, wait!” Y/N called after him, but he kept walking, too overwhelmed and embarrassed to hear what she had to say. 

Fuck. That could’ve gone better.

Y/N thumped down in her driver’s seat, pulling the door of the car shut behind her. Her breaths got heavy, and she felt the familiar weight on her chest as tears pricked at her eyes.

She put her head in her hands and sobbed.

*

Spencer sat at his desk, nervously twiddling his thumbs as his knee bounced anxiously under the table. He’d arrived at work that day earlier than usual so he could give himself time to figure out what the hell he was going to do when he saw her. He bit down on his lip as he stared at the glass bullpen doors, waiting for Y/N to arrive.

He occupied himself with thinking of what he was going to say when he saw her. Should he say he didn’t mean it, and hope that would save their friendship? Or would that only make it worse? She obviously didn’t feel the same, so what was he supposed to do? Part of him felt bad that he hadn’t stayed and heard her out, listened to whatever she had to say. But he just had to get out of there. After all, he’d essentially put his heart in her hands, laid everything out on the table for her and she’d said ‘Oh.’

He didn’t notice a presence beside him until a hand waved in his face. Alex was perched on the end of his desk; waving her hand in front of his face, evidently trying to get his attention.

“Reid? Hello?”

He blinked out of his daze, looking up at her. “Hm?”

“I asked what was up with you. You seem.. distant.” Alex noted.

“It’s nothing.” He brushed her off, not feeling like talking about it. 

Alex narrowed her eyes down at the boy who’d become like a son to him. “Yeah, like I believe that. Come on, you can tell me.”

He sighed, giving in and swivelling in his chair to face her. “I walked Y/N to her car last night.”

Alex’s face lit up. She knew how bad the crush he had on Y/N was, as she was one of the few that he’d trusted enough to confide in. This was because he knew, unlike the others, Alex wouldn’t make fun of or baby him about it. She treated him like an actual person, and he liked that.

She clapped her hands together excitedly. “See? I told you that you had it in you.” Alex’s excited was short-lived as she saw the look of disappointment on his face. “What happened?”

Spencer cringed as the memory resurfaced. “I kissed her.”

Alex nodded, not quite letting her excitement show for the sake of Spencer. “That’s good, right? So she knows how you feel now?”

Spencer shrugged. “I guess. But she didn’t say anything; and she didn’t exactly kiss back. And then I got too nervous and I left. So I don’t really know.”

Alex nodded in understanding. “I mean, she was probably just shocked. Give her a little time, I’m sure everything will pan out.” She attempted to advise, settling a comforting hand on his shoulder. 

Spencer nodded, grateful for Alex’s advice. He’d just have to deal with it when Y/N got there. He couldn’t very well avoid her forever. 

However Y/N didn’t show that day. He overheard JJ tell Derek that she’d called in sick, but he knew that it was likely because she didn’t want to have to face him.

And so, despite what how his mind told him to give her space, he couldn’t help how compelled he felt to drive to her apartment, to at least try and mend what he had broken.

He stopped by the flower shop on his way, hoping that a pretty bouquet might work in his favour if she ended up being mad at him. That was how he ended up stood outside her apartment door, contemplating whether what he was doing was actually a good idea.

He shook all the negativity from his head, raising his hand to knock three times on the door. He heard the shuffle of feet, before the door swung open, Y/N poking her head out to see who was there.

She smiled when she saw him, though she was evidently shocked. “Spencer? What’re you doing here?” She asked, tilting her head to the side in question in a way that Spencer thought was adorable.

“I came to apologise. I’m sorry for what happened yesterday. I- I bought these for you.” He held out a beautiful bouquet of purple flowers, wrapped in a blue tissue paper with a purple ribbon around them.

She gasped at the sight of them, reaching out to take them from him. “God, Spencer- they’re stunning.”

“They’re Hyacinths.” He started, searching desperately for something to say so that there was no room for any awkwardness, even if that meant rambling about flowers. “The purple colour represents sorrow and apologies. They’re often used as a way of asking for forgiveness.” He finished, and she brought them up to her nose, breathing in their sweet scent.

“Thank you so much, they’re lovely, but forgiveness?” She questioned. “What would you need forgiveness for?”

He furrowed his eyebrows, he thought that much was obvious. “When I kissed you yesterday, it evidently made you uncomfortable, and I just really wanted to apologise for ruining our friendship.”

“Ruining our- oh, Spencer, no. It’s not like that. Why don’t you- would you like to come in?” She asked, stepping back so he could come inside. He nodded, stepping in and taking in the space as she closed the door behind him.

She moved to her kitchen so she could fill a vase with some water to place the flowers in, before she went out to her living room, sitting down on her couch and patting the space next to her.

He sat down next to her, placing his bag by his feet on the floor, his gaze in his lap as she spoke. “Why would you think you’d ruined our friendship?”

“When you didn’t turn up for work today I just assumed it was because of what happened last night and if I overstepped I am truly sorry. I don’t expect you to return my feelings or anything, and If you could forget that I said anything, we could just go back to being friends?” He posed, trying to salvage what he could. 

“You didn’t overstep.” She whispered. “I’m sorry for not kissing back. I wanted to, believe me, I did. It’s just-“ She paused, looking down at her hands that were folded neatly in her lap. “I’m scared.”

“Scared of what?” He whispered back, looking up from his lap to study her own actions. 

“Of being vulnerable, falling in love.” She mumbled. “I don’t want to be in a position where I can get hurt again. Things ended so horribly with my last boyfriend and I promised myself I wouldn’t let myself get hurt again, promised that I would just swear myself off from love.” She sniffled, and his heart broke at the sight of tears welling in her eyes. “But then I met you, and that all pretty much went down the drain.” She laughed a little. “Truth is, Spencer, I do love you. But I can’t let myself be so vulnerable again. I’m so afraid of being hurt like I was before; especially when it took me so long to repair myself after my last boyfriend. I can’t- I won’t go through that again.” She whimpered and he nodded, turning his whole body to face her. 

“Y/N, you have to know, I would never hurt you. Not like he did, not ever. God, if you were mine- not a day would go by where you didn’t know how much I loved you.” He whimpered, his voice cracking slightly as his throat grew dry.

“I know you wouldn’t but- I just don’t believe in it all. Loving someone has only ever brought me pain and suffering, so why would we be any different?” 

He shook his head at her words. “No. Love is- love is one of the most beautiful things in the world.” He reached out, gripping her hands tightly in his. “Let me show you.”

“Show me what?” she sniffled. 

“Just how beautiful love can be. True, warming, passionate. Just, let me show you how you deserving you are of love.” He was pleading, and Y/N was so emotionally worn out that she just nodded, crumpling into his chest as she cried, his arms coming around her. “It’s okay, sweet girl. I’m gonna take care of you.”

*

Spencer was truly committed to proving to Y/N that love exists. The pair had begun dating shortly after the conversation they had at Y/N’s apartment, and she was really starting to see what Spencer was talking about. He showcased his love for her in a multitude of ways.

The first? Dates. Whenever they got the time, Spencer took her on spontaneous late night walks when they got home late from a case but were too overwhelmed to sleep. They’d bundle up in big coats to combat the chill in the air of the night, laughing and chatting quietly as they walked, hands swinging between them. He’d kiss her goodnight when they got back to her apartment, igniting a fire within her, this flicker of warmth and passion and happiness. 

The second? A conversation she had with Derek one afternoon in the office kitchenette. She was leaning against the worktop waiting for the kettle to boil, so she could make herself and Spencer a coffee to get them through the towering pile of paperwork they each had to complete. She was staring off out the window, not paying much attention when Derek came up towards her, grabbing a water from the mini fridge and saying her name as a form of greeting. He waved a hand in front of her face to get her attention when he didn’t receive a response, and she snapped her gaze toward him, warm smile on her lips.

“Hey, Morgan. Everything alright?”

“Yeah, I’m good. How about you? How’s everything going with Pretty Ricky over there?” He nodded in Spencer’s direction, and Y/N’s eyes followed, landing on her boyfriend who was quickly flipping over the pages of a case file for his report.

“It’s- it’s good. We’re good.” She smiled, not sure what else she could say without getting too flustered.

Derek studied her intently, watching how her cheeks flushed as she watched Spencer.

“You know how happy you make him, right?”

Y/N was surprised by the comment, turning her gaze back to look at Derek. “What?”

“The smile you’ve put on that kids face, every day? I haven’t seen him smile like that in years. Not since-“ He cut himself off, not wanting to dredge up the past.

She knew what he was going to say, anyway.

Not since Maeve.

Derek cleared his throat and continued talking. “I shouldn’t tell you this, he made me promise I wouldn’t say anything, but he was talking about you the other day.”

“He was?”

Derek nodded. “Kid got all flustered when I asked about you. The blush on his cheeks, he was red as a damn tomato.” He smirked, and Y/N chuckled at the comment. “But, seriously. The way he talks about you? It’s like you’re a goddess of some sort. His eyes quite literally sparkle when he mentions you. His whole face lights up.”

“I’m lucky to have him.” She replied. She felt such a tenderness swell within her as she heard how highly he spoke of her to his friends, it made her feel so loved. She grinned at Morgan before she glanced back over to Spencer and met his gaze. Spencer was watching the interaction from across the room with a frown on his face. When their eyes met he stood up from his desk, making his way over.

“What are you guys talking about?” He pouted adorably, and Derek chuckled, putting his arms up in a fake surrender.

“Nothin’, genius. Just having a chat with your girl here. But I’ll be on my way now.” He smirked, walking away.

Y/N blushed, turning around and busying herself with making Spencer’s coffee, hoping he wouldn’t ask too many questions, though she knew he would. He stood next to her, still pouting.

“What did he say?” He asked, inquisitively.

Y/N shook her head with a smile. “Oh, nothing.”

He whined theatrically, throwing his head back. “Y/NNN.” He dragged out her name as she finished spooning half the sugar jar into his coffee. She slid it toward him as she looked up to meet his eyes. 

He gave her his best puppy dog eyes and she relented with a sigh. “He just told me that sometimes you talk about me to him and the team.”

He smiled nervously, gaze dropping down. “All good things, I promise.” He mumbled. 

She pushed herself up onto her tiptoes do kiss his cheek gently, which was as much PDA as Hotch would let them get away with in the office. That and the occasional hand hold. “I know. Thank you.” She smiled, before picking up her coffee and walking back to her desk.

The third? Flowers. Every Tuesday, without fail, she’d walk into the office and find a new bouquet on her desk. Or if they were away on a case, he’d place them in the hotel room that they were allowed to share. Each bouquet was accompanied with a note that explained why he bought that particular flower, and what meaning they had.

One morning she came into the office and immediately smiled at the sight of that Tuesday’s bouquet, laid gently on her desktop. She placed her bag down on her chair, lifting the bouquet and plucking the little note that sat on top of them. 

‘ Peonies. The Chinese name for ‘most beautiful’ quite literally translates to Peony. 

It seems only fitting, as you’re the most beautiful woman on earth.  

Love, Spencer. ‘

It felt like Y/N’s heart might jump right out from her chest with how harshly it was beating against her ribcage. 

The fourth? Sex. Obviously. Whilst he wasn’t completely inexperienced in the bedroom, he was still a little unsure. Still, he did his research. Unless she requested otherwise, he’d take his time with her. Unless she asked that he be slightly rougher with her, he went slowly, gently, determined that every move and every kiss showcased exactly how much he loved her. He wanted to make love to her, the woman he craved more than anything else.

The fifth? How he held her. On those early Sunday mornings, when no one else was awake. where the golden sun filtered through the gap in the curtains, painting her bare skin in a warming glow that Spencer could only describe as heavenly. She slept peacefully on his chest, his arms around her, one hand holding one of her hands while the other ran up and down her back soothingly. He’d press little kisses to the crown of her head, nuzzling his nose into her hair, breathing her in.

It was pure bliss.

She’d never felt so happy.

She’d never been so in love before.

Upon this realisation, she let her eyelids flutter open, titling her head up slightly to meet his eyes.

“Morning, beautiful.” He whispered, his voice deep and raspy as it always was in the morning.

She beamed up at him, and he brought his head down so he could press his lips to hers in a gentle kiss.

When they pulled back, she felt tears in her eyes as she looked at him. She’d given herself wholly and her heart entirely to Spencer Reid, and he hadn’t hurt her. He’d loved her with everything he had in him, shown her nothing but passion and kindness and opened her to a warmth she hadn’t felt before.

She felt so loved.

Noticing the tears that welled in her eyes, Spencer frowned, moving his hands up to cup her cheeks sweetly. “Why’re you crying?”

“Thank you.”

His frown deepened. “For what?”

“For showing me how beautiful love can be. For loving me. And for allowing me to love you in return.” She whispered, and he smiled down at her.

“It was never a choice. Falling in love with you is the easiest thing I’ve ever done.”

She just nodded at him, moving forward to connect their lips again. She let herself get lost in the euphoric feeling that his love gave her. And while there was no string of words that could correctly convey just how she felt, she knew one that summed it up nicely. 

Paradise.

*

Tag list ; @beyonces-breastmilk @pinkdiamond1016 @itsmyblogandillreblogifiwantto @thelovelyrose @averyhotchner @cynbx

#spencer reid #spencer reid one shot #spencer reid x reader #matthew gray gubler x reader #matthew gray gubler #mgg x reader #mgg #criminal minds

[captainjimothycarter]

For the Made-up Fic title Meme: 1. "The Perfect Ten." 2. "A Fightin' Man." 3. People Skills." :)

You spoil me.

--

Title: The Perfect Ten

Ship: Steggy

Tags: Smut, ten things, plot without porn

A good ole fashion smut log

Ten times that Steve and Peggy did it and almost got caught. Ten times that Peggy had an orgasm so hard, she nearly passed out, and one time she did. Thank God Steve was there to catch her.

Steve was always well enhanced below the belt and Peggy took full advantage of that situation, even before the serum. She once sucked him off behind the shacks. She was returned the favor when he ate her out under her desk. Lord, that guy had a mouth on him and he knew just how to use it. It only took some gentle prodding.

The ten places they’ve had sex:

In her office, where she broke her favorite stapler

In Steve’s bed, the night before the procedure

Shortly after the procedure, once everything had calmed down and they went their seperate ways

(It doesn’t count but they certainly sent dirty letters to one another and since people read them in between, Peggy taught Steve how to write in code. The things that man could write would get her going. Damn him for being an artist and a poet.)

Shortly after he rescued the 107th, in the showers. Sargeant Barnes was kind enough to be on ‘guard’.

Shortly after Steve had lost Bucky, this was more on Steve’s part and neither had planned for it but Steve was nearly feral in the emotional way of not wanting to lose anyone.

The day before they went after Schmidt. No one knew exactly when they would, it was just good planning.

When they found Steve years later (why yes this is an AU Peggy finds him in the year 2011 and is still young), right on that bed. Fury was smart enough to turn the camera off.

The night that Steve proposed to her

The day and night of their wedding, nearly making them both late

And of course, their honeymoon where neither saw the sun for a good day.

Steve loves him some Peggy :)

--

A Fightin’ Man

Steggy

Tags: Boxer AU

That’s all I can think of, a boxer AU.

Steve’s always known how to fight. He was born fighting, his ma always said. Fought to live, fought to survive this long, with so little, fought to protect the little people. Always couldn’t stand a bully, even if that bully was an officer of the law.

Steve wasn’t afraid to swing a punch or two, even if that meant the bully hit harder and for longer. He was taught how to fight but Bucky wasnt the best teacher. He taught him how to fight as someone big, how not to use his size, but Steve worked with what he had, even if he was small.

He went to protests, countless protests despite his ma’s worry. He wasn’t afraid to get into a rassle with a few of the Proud Boys, even if things turned a bit hazy. After one recent protest, Steve found some guy with a bowler hat and a mustache dotting the bloody wound on the side of his head with alcohol. He tried to scramble away and fight him but the guy claimed to be a friend.

“You were bleedin’ out, kid, I ain’t leavin’ you. Come on. We need to get out.”

It took him that long to be aware that the fight was still going on and despite he wanted to jump back into it, he could barely walk on his own two feet. He found himself deposited in some building, told to go down the narrow hallway, take the stairs down, never up, and he’d arrive to safety.

Except his new friend didn’t tell him safety was a goddamn underground boxing ring that Steve was 90% sure was illegal. Illegal or not, he watched a goddess in the ring avoid a punch to the face with an easy side step and sweep the legs out from under her opponite with ease. He felt his jaw drop as she was declared the victor and turned to face the single person in the audience.

She was beauty and grace and Steve’s brain just faltered as she walked towards him. Her head tilted to the side as she studied his beaten and bloodied form, cursing under her breath at someone named Dugan.

“I ain’t Dugan,” Steve grumbled, his ears still ringing pretty bad. “Names Steve, your friend sent me here.”

“I take it you’re the guy that tried to take on four guys at once?” She laughed and he should be upset that she was teasing him, but he wasn’t. She sounded in awe of his stupidity. “I don’t need to tell you how stupid that was.”

“Then why did your friend send me down here?” He groaned as she took him by the shoulder and lead him towards some medical looking room, setting him down on the nearest bed. 

“Because a) you’re dead on your feet, b) you have idiot cops looking for you, and c) you need to learn how to fight if you intend on keeping what little of your brains are left in you.”

“And you’re going to teach me how to fight?” It came out rather rude, but you try to be nice to someone putting straight alcohol on your road rash. She just stared at him hard.

“Is that going to be a problem? If you don’t want my help...”

“No, no! I’d be honored, ma’am.”

“Good, names Peggy by the way. Soon as Jones clears you good to go, we’ll start.”

--

People Skills

StevePeggy

Tag: Spy Fic, Or close as a spy as a soldier can get, pretend to be married, 

Steve had said it again and again and again. He’s a soldier, not a spy. He can’t do the spy work, he’s not graceful or skilled in lying, and languages come easier now, but its clear they’re not in his native tongue.

Peggy insists with time he’ll learn, he has no choice but to when the tide of the war depends on two people:

Agent Carter to uncover the truth and Captain America to protect that truth from being exposed by the wrong people.

He can see the disappointment written on Peggy’s face as he fumbles with French, takes a second hesitation to reply to the jewlery owner about the ring for his wife. He looks over his shoulder and smiles at Peggy, trying to play the part of the eager husband who just wants to please his new wife.

At least she looks amused as he holds up the gray stone.

“You don’t need to say anything,” he sighs as they slowly walk the country road, back towards their little farm safehouse. “I know I screwed up.”

“A litte,” Peggy admits, squeezing his hand, “but I don’t think the shop owner noticed. They just don’t think you’re a native speaker, is all. There’s still time to learn.”

Steve’s skills are put to the test when his world is threatened, more so than the war.

He loses Peggy to the very forces they’re fighting against and he has to use everything she’s taught him to find her. 

Ask me a fic meme ​

#Steggy #StevePeggy #Fic title meme #@3pirouette #OMG this is long #I am SO sorry #3pirouette

[langdon-is-my-drug-of-choice]

Intrigued

A/N: First fic im posting on tumblr and I’m really new to this, so please! Bear with me whist I try to figure to this out! 

Outpost!Michael x reader

My Masterlist

Warnings: Smut, vaginal sex, unprotected sex, daddy kink, sorta mean Michael, think that’s it?

The days down in Outpost Three were dreadful. You had lost count of the amount of days that had passed a long time ago, and every single room was always uncomfortably cold. The long hallways in the Outpost always made you dizzy, all the twists and turns, some hallways even leading to dead ends.  

Right now, you were walking down one of those very hallways, mopping the floors. It was established right when you arrived here together with Timothy and Emily that you were a gray, a worker ant as Venable had said, why they got to purple’s and why you had to be a gray, you had no idea. But, as Ms. Venable had said herself, “The grays serve, and are grateful for the opportunity”  

And boy, were you grateful.

You always followed your commands, sometime even doing more than you were asked to. After doing this for every excruciatingly long month down in this hell hole, you eventually became Venable's favorite gray. Or, the gray she hated the least.  

Walking down the hallway during dinner time, everything was peaceful, at least as peaceful as it could be down here, you were humming a quiet tune you remember loving from before the bombs dropped.  

You didn’t have the chance to finish singing your little song, since you were rudely interrupted by the blaring sound of a harsh alarm being projected from the speakers back in the dining room and the lounging area.  

Your body picked up the pace as you continued to mop the floors, desperately trying to finish the damn chore. Once the floors looked pristine enough, you propped your mop up against the wall and bolted down the hallway, aiming to head back to your room.  

You didn’t have the chance to make it all the way to your room, since the sound if two different voices cut you off.

“You don't sound like you believe me” you could distinctly hear Venable say. Her tone was light for a change, she even let out a light chuckle.  

“Why wouldn't I? To me Seems like you've done a wonderful job. The walls are still standing. Your people are alive and healthy. Which is quite a feat, considering” the second voice said, the voice of a man, but not a man you recognized.  

By now, you had propped yourself up against one of the walls, leaning against in with your back to the wall.

“Considering?”  

“That three more Outposts have been overrun, and the remaining three won't last through the year”

“Why are you here?” Venable asked him, her voice reeking of confusion, but still holding a certain level of authority.

“Because it's only a matter of time before the same thing happens to you. The good news is, there's another facility, a sanctuary. This one's completely impregnable and stocked with enough supplies to last a decade” the male voice explained, his voice being deep, but at the same time holding some sort of boyish quality to it.  

“You're here to take us there” Venable said, thinking she had finished his sentence for him.  

“Hmm, I've been assigned to evaluate the people here and select the ones most worthy of survival. I could take all of you or none of you” he retorted, knocking down Venable’s previous confidence boost.

“Those who make it, live and will continue on” he continued; his tone of voice however, soon turned dark, almost eerie sounding.  

“Those who don't end up like my horses” he finished; his voice having dropped a few octaves.  

Only when you heard the sound of footsteps coming towards you, did you hurry down the hallway in the opposite direction you came in. Hoping you weren’t seen.

---

---

You were on your knees, poking at the fireplace in the lounging area. The rest of the occupants were sitting around, seemingly waiting for something, but what, you weren’t quite sure.  

Even though your attention was mostly directed at the fireplace, you didn’t fail to hear the insistent clicking of expensive-sounding leather boots coming towards you from behind. From what you had gathered by now, you knew that Ms. Venable was standing behind you, so it couldn’t have been her boots clicking.

The sound stopped right behind you, Venable stepped down from her spot in front of the Outpost's residents. Venable’s hand found its way to your shoulder, grasping tightly, urging you to stand, and face the Outpost’s new found guest.  

You did as you were silently instructed, standing up and standing beside Venable. You let you eyes wander to the man you had eavesdropped on last night, and boy was he a sight to see.  

He was tall, with long strawberry-blonde hair the reached just below his collarbone. His beautiful crystal-clear blue eyes were scanning the room, looking at every single person inside the room. When his eyes met yours, you could feel you heart flutter and your moth fall slightly open.  

Upon catching sight of his entire face, you felt your breath catch in your throat. You let your eyes wander his face, from his hair, to his eyes, to his beautifully sculpted cheekbones, to his jawline and last, but certainly not least, his beautifully plump looking lips.

He quickly averted his gaze, and faced the elites once again, his large hands clasped tightly behind his back.

“My name is Langdon, and I represent The Cooperative. I won't sugarcoat the situation. Humanity is on the brink of failure. My arrival here was crucial to the survival of civilized life on Earth. The three other compounds In Syracuse, New York, Beckley, West Virginia, and San Angelo, Texas have been overrun and destroyed. We've had no contact from the six international outposts, but we are assuming that they, too, have been eliminated” Langdon said, your mind drifting back to last night, the conversation he had with Venable.

“What happened to the people inside?” Andre asked as he looked up at Mr. Langdon.  

“Massacred. The same fate that will befall almost all of you” he explained.

“Almost all?” you said from beside Mr. Langdon, your breath once again catching in your throat once your eyes met.

“In the knowledge that this very moment might occur, we built a failsafe The Sanctuary” he said, not breaking eye contact with you.

“The Sanctuary is unique. It has certain security measures that will prevent overruns" he continued to explain, almost sounding annoyed.

“Excuse me, sir. What measures? Why weren't we given them?” Ms. Mead asked, her tone being firm and assertive.  

“That's classified. All that matters is that The Sanctuary will survive, so the people populating it will survive, so humanity will survive” he said while raising his hand to her in a dismissive manner.

“Who are the people who are populating it?” Andre asked again.

“Also classified. However, I have been sent to determine if any of you are worthy and fit to join us” Mr. Langdon said, dismissing Andre’s question.

“The Cooperative has developed a particular and rigorous questioning technique we like to call "Cooperating." I will then use the information gained to determine if you belong” Langdon said jokingly, almost laughing at his own pun.

“What is this, The Hunger Games? This is bullshit. I paid my way in here, and that is the only cooperating I plan on doing” Coco whined out to him, sounding pissed.

“You don't have to sit for questioning” He said with a sigh, clearly annoyed.

“What happens if we choose not to?” Andre prodded.

“Then you stay here and die” He said harshly. The tone in his voice was clear and demining, and you weren’t gonna lie to yourself, he was doing a very good job of turning you on.

“I volunteer to go first” Gallant said while raising his hand high into the air.

“I’m afraid that wont be possible, as I’ve already chosen the order of my interviews. The process should only take me a couple of days, so you won't be kept in suspense forever. For those of you who don't make the cut, all is not lost. If the worst should happen and feral cannibals come knocking, down one of these. One minute later, you fall asleep and never wake up. I look forward to meeting each and every one of you” Langdon said, reaching into his pocket, pulling out a small vial of tiny white pills.

---

---

“Come, Mr. Langdon has requested to see you in his office” Ms. Mead said to you as you were finishing up your chores for the night.  

“Now? But, I’m not finished with my chores yet” you replied to her’ knowing how mad Venable would be if she found out you didn’t finish your chores.

“Now, Ms. (L/N), he said he didn’t want to be kept waiting” she said. You propped your broom up against the nearest wall and hastily followed her down the corridor.  

She led you tov the wide, dark sliding doors at the end of one of the corridors, you had been down there a few times, sweeping the floors and whatnot, but you had never been inside before.

Ms. Mead knocked on the door, but then the door slid open on it’s own, neither Mead or Mr. Langdon had laid a finger on it.  

“Ah, come in, I’ve been waiting for you. Ms. Mead, you may leave now” said, ushering you inside and shooing Mead away. She nodded politely and left down the corridor, leaving you and Langdon alone.  

“Sit” was all he said as he too, sat down behind the desk by the fireplace. You did as you were told, sitting down in front of him, keeping you eyes on the ground.  

“Do I scare you?” He asked. You shook your head in response, eyes still on the ground. You heard him getting up from his chair and stalking around the desk to stand in front of you.

His fingers curled themselves around your chin, lifting your face to look at him. You could see his eyes wandering you face, then down the entirety of your body. At this point, you could feel just how much this man was turning you on, and all he had done was talk.

“You’re not quite like the others here, are you?” he asked.

“What do you mean?” you whimpered, thoroughly confused, but at the same time, insanely turned on. He hummed, brushing his thumb against your bottom lip, parting you lips slightly.  

“You’re so willing” ha said as he let go of your chin and leaned back into the desk, almost sitting on it.

“Willing?” you asked him, now looking at his handsome face willingly.

“Yes, willing. Willing to serve, eager to please” he said, and you couldn’t really dent it either.  

“I guess” you mumbled, not knowing what else to say.

Langdon pushed himself off the desk with his hips, casually stepping to the side, facing you.

“Sit on the desk for me, can you that?” he said with mock sweetness in his tone, but you knew he wasn’t joking. You nodded your head and did as you were told, gently climbing onto the dark wooden desk and squeezing your thighs together once you had gotten situated on the desk.  

“Good girl” he said, but as soon as those words left his lips, you could feel a new flood of arousal was over you, positively soaking your plain cotton underwear. He walked over to you placing his hands on your knees and prying your legs apart, coming to stand between them.

His hands trailed up your thighs, coming to rest on you hips. Your breathing was heavy, and you were positive that Langdon could hear you heart thump in your chest.  

“Nervous?” he chuckled while sliding his hands along you waistline. This time, you nodded while slightly squirming under his warm hands. He chuckled a little at your response and reached behind you to undo the tie on your apron, tugging it off you and letting it fall to the floor.

He continued, once again reaching behind you, unzipping your gray dress, pulling the top part of it off of you, exposing your plain cotton bra to him. His hand soon found it’s way to your throat, pushing you back to lay down on the desk.

“Now, you do know that it’s very rude to eavesdrop on other people’s conversations, right?” he laughed, somehow, he knew about how you had accidently listened in to his and Venable’s previous conversation.  

“I-I’m s-sorry” you whimpered, finding talking a bit difficult due to his hand being coiled around your throat. He harshly let go of you throat as he started to rid himself of his own clothing, first his lavish jacket, then his undershirt, then his belt.  

His bare chest was now on full display, and you were definitely enjoying the view.

“Sadly, ‘I-I’m s-sorry’ isn’t going to cut it, pet” he said, mocking your previous whimpers. He hooked his fingers into the waistband of your gray uniform, pulling it off your body, dragging your panties down along with the rest of you uniform.

He stepped in between your thighs again, your glistening cunt now on full display for him. “I’ve barely touched you, and you already so fucking wet for me, dirty girl” you whimpered at his words, becoming even more turned on than you already were.  

He reached behind your back and undid your bra, with some difficulty. Now you laid on his desk, completely nude in front of this gorgeous man who was currently unzipping his expensive-looking dress pants.  

He let his pants drop to the floor, along wit his boxers, exposing him fully to you.  

“Tell me what you want, pet. Naughty girls have to beg to get what they want” he teased as he slid two of his fingers along your slick folds, urging you to call out and beg for him.  

“Please…” you whimpered out quietly, color flooding your face out of embarrassment. He grabbed ahold of you thighs, pulling half of your ass off the desk, giving him better access to you.  

He raised his hand and brought it down onto your bare ass, hard, making you yelp.

“You can do better than that, pet. Now beg. Beg for me to fuck you” he said, it was more of a demand than an instruction.

“Please! Please, f-fuck me, please Mr. Langdon, please” you said, heightening your voice so he could hear you more clearly. He lowered his head down to your stomach, leaving wet sloppy kisses down your abdomen, teasing you further.

“Good girl, I think you deserve a reward, don’t you?” he asked, once again faking that sugary-sweet tone. You nodded your head as fast as you could just wanting him inside you. He came up from your stomach, grabbing ahold of his cock jerking himself a few times, spreading some of his precum onto himself, though you doubted is was necessary.  

He lined the head of his cock up with your drenched entrance and slowly pushing into you. One painfully thick inch out of time. His hands wandered from your waist to one hand tightly gripping your throat to the other holding a bruising grip on your hip.

One he was finally fully sheathed inside you, he let out low growling-kind of noise, making you clench around him. He gave you very little time to adjust to his size, since he soon began pounding into you at a ruthless pace. Your moaning was loud, and you were sure that if you didn’t shut up soon, the entirety of the Outpost would hear just how good this man was making you feel.

“You’ve gotta stay quiet for me, okay pet?” all you could do was nod you head in response, but you didn’t seem to be keeping your promise, since you didn’t quiet down. Langdon put both his hands on your waist, leaning down and planting his lips over yours, effectively shutting you up.

His lips were soft, just as soft as they looked. They moved against your lips in perfect sync. The feeling of his lips on yours was almost orgasmic on its own.

You could feel a certain pressure building up in your lower abdomen, and you knew you orgasm was creeping up on you. Langdon must have felt it too, since he soon detached his lips from yours and slowed his pace significantly.

“Don't you dare cum before I say you can. Now, show Daddy just how much you want to cum” he instructed, making you pulse slightly around his cock.

“Please! Please Daddy, I want to cum on your cock, I wanna cum so bad, please!” you begged him for your release, and apparently, that was enough for him, because he came back to his previous pace with a passionate fury.

Thrusting his cock into you as hard as he possibly could, he seemingly stopped caring about just how loud you were being. You could feel his cock twitch inside you, and that was quite enough for you to start clenching around him as your orgasm washed over you.

Because of how much you had tightened around him, Langdon couldn’t hold back his own orgasm either. With a few more hard thrusts, his cock twitched inside you once again as he released his cum deep inside you, filling you to the brim, some of it leaking out and dripping down and onto the floor.

Both of your breaths were heavy, you were borderline panting at this point, but he was also breathing heavily, his face buried in your neck, leaving gentle little kisses along your throat.  

“Is this part of my test?” you whimpered out weakly, his cock still hard inside you, twitching and pulsing.

“Isn’t everything?” he asked breathlessly, coming up from your neck to look into your eyes once again, still breathing heavily.

“Well, then do I pass?” you ask, feeling a single tear run down the side of your face.

“Yes, you’ll be coming back with me, pet”

#michael langdon #michael langdon smut #michael langdon x reader #michael langdon x reader smut #outpost!michael #ahs apocolaypse #ahs #cody fern #smut #x reader smut

[lynenspray]

gratitude

summary: sooyoung, the newest employee in the company, is invited up to CEO kim yerim’s office for a quick “chat.” 

(joyri, unnie kink, cunnilingus, office sex) 

 joyri path for the CEO!yerim universe

---

sooyoung tries to calm herself down by taking a breath, but it doesn't help. the doors beyond her are large and intimidating, sleek lines of wood that held back the person with the highest position in their company–and they may as well be holding back a vicious beast. sooyoung could admire that, and she did, but from afar. like, really far. she was basically the freshest meat on the team; the newest hire.

the tall woman straightens her blazer, knowing it's no use. whatever the CEO thought of her, it was final. kim yerim didn't need to see her face to face to know what she was capable of from a business perspective–and that was probably why she was even called to this office. her last stunt with her superior on the dubbed station X project could either get her a promotion or a verbal beating. she really, really hopes it's the former. 

well, here goes nothing.

she knocks three times before turning the knob, stepping into a large, surprisingly bright office with modern furniture. it had not only a chair and a massive desk, but also four sleek cream armchairs perpendicular to it, a wooden coffee table in the middle. the CEO-nim turns to face her from her place by the shelves filled with books along the wall, seeming to have just finished returning one.

"ah, park sooyoung-ssi." the CEO's voice is a lot deeper than sooyoung was expecting. "have a seat. would you like something to drink?"

"um," sooyoung watches the CEO brisk walk across the office over to the bar one the other side. "whatever you want, CEO-nim," she answers, hoping it's the right one.

the woman gives her a look before smiling, eyes disappearing into crescents. "I'll hold you to that, sooyoung-ssi. get on one of the chairs then."

she sits down on the white leather, watching the CEO pour out some tea for them. her office wasn't warm–if anything, it was a bit chilly. but the CEO had her blazer on the back of her large chair, and was instead donning only a white blouse and cream colored slacks. it made sooyoung nervous, for some reason. 

"hope you're fine with jasmine."

sooyoung gratefully accepts the cup and waits for the CEO to take a sip of hers first, mindful of her manners and position. it tastes… well, like tea. 

"so," the CEO leaned sat down on the chair in front of her, crossing her legs. "tell me your reasoning behind the decision your team made."

right. right. of course. 

sooyoung opens her mouth to speak, only to abruptly close it when the CEO untied her blonde hair out of its ponytail. oh. and then the CEO unbuttoned her top, ignoring sooyoung all the while, almost not even minding that she didn't make a single peep. 

"I uh," she tries to say, gulping when the CEO crossed her arms under her chest, emphasising her breasts. fuck. stop being horny over your boss's boss's boss's boss. or something. what the hell. "t-the station X project is a project that aims to, err," she attempts to continue but only finds that her eyes keep straying back to the CEO-nim's chest. "to…"

the woman across her laughs before leaning forward (don't look sooyoung don't look don't look DON'T–fuck.) her cleavage showing off the shape of her boobs and the hint of a bra under the soft cloth. the younger woman sipped from her cup, eyes focused on the drink so sooyoung had the opportunity to focus her eyes somewhere else, like her breasts, her waist, her hips. her arms. 

"park sooyoung-ssi, why are you in this company? be honest with me."

sooyoung blinks. huh? "I beg your pardon?" 

"graduated top of your class in university, going to grad school and finishing an MBA right after. then you came here."

sooyoung stays silent. 

the CEO placed her cup back down. "why exactly did you accept that low of a position with your credentials, in a company led by a CEO years younger than you? you're severely overqualified for your position. but you took in nonetheless. why?" 

the taller woman looks at her straight on, planning to give the same response she gave her interviewer. "CEO-nim–" 

the woman waves a hand. "it's yerim."

what? is she crazy? "um. kim yerim-ssi," she begins, folding her hands in her lap. "I sincerely believe that this company is capable of achieving greater things than it already has, and I would be more than happy to be on the team when–" 

yerim hums, tilting her head. "thanks, but I don't need an employee complimenting the company. you plan on skipping town after you sniff out just what makes us great?" 

yes. "what? no!" 

"no shame in that. it's a dog eat dog world out there." sooyoung continues to stare as yerim rises from her seat and rounds the table, coming over to stand by her side. 

"I think you know just how dangerous you are, park sooyoung-ssi. just as I do. that project could have cost us millions."

sooyoung gulps. "it would have uh. broken even eventually. high risk–"

"it doesn't matter to me," she interrupts her. "you could have saved us hundreds, tens, or even just a single won. it would have been the same gesture."

the younger woman walks until she's out of sooyoung's sight, behind her, placing delicate hands on her shoulders. 

"I want to thank you for that."

sooyoung feels the hairs on the back of her neck stand on end as yerim leans in closer, her breath ghosting over her skin, tickling her, 

"do you want that, park sooyoung-ssi?" the taller woman tries to hold back a moan when the other woman's lips come into contact with the shell of her ear. "do you want to feel CEO-nim's appreciation? maybe… with a kiss?" 

oh, christ. she can't take it. yerim is literally sooyoung's type– how can she say no? 

"I–" still, she should say no. she should definitely say no. she could lose her job without even gaining anything from it. yerim could be filming them, gathering blackmail or something. 

yerim moves away only to come back around the seat from the other side, invading sooyoung's personal space in front instead of behind, marking her territory around the space sooyoung had previously thought was large and drafty but was now too small, too hot for comfort.

it's clear now that this is what yerim wants, what she's wanted all along, because her hands are coming up to unbutton her blouse completely, unveiling the bra she had underneath, revealing the taut golden skin hiding behind the cloth of her top. her breasts look plump and soft, and sooyoung feels the horrifying want bubbling within her to touch them. to touch the billionaire CEO of the company she works for–and maybe even have sex with her. what the fuck. 

sooyoung stays perfectly still, terrified that she might do something wrong like take her up on it. no way. no way is this real. she can't do it. 

"sooyoung-unnie? what do you say? can I thank you properly?" 

fuuuuck. sooyoung swallows hard, blushing at the honorific and the idea that the CEO–the one in the top position in the company–is calling her unnie, like sooyoung isn't the one in need of the younger, like she isn't working every day under her orders, in her company, to get paid at her terms. it sets something within sooyoung on fire. 

yerim hums, then fingers the waistband of her slacks. she unzips it and pulls, showing off the shape of her hips, the rest of her waist, her cute pink underwear as the pants are slipped off of her completely. 

jesus christ. she closes her eyes. don't do it, sooyoung. it's the tea. she got knocked out cold by the tea, or something, and now she was asleep in the CEO’s office and she'd wake up any moment and escape from this weird situation. she shouldn't want this. she really really shouldn't. she won't do it. absolutely not. she needs to say– 

"yes."

goddammit. 

sooyoung trembles when she opens her eyes. yerim locks their gazes together, keeping her in place as she sinks down to her knees, as she opens the taller woman's legs with the touch of her hands, as she trails nails over her thighs.

"thank you," yerim hums into her knee, eyes still locked with hers as she gives the joint a kiss, sooyoung's fingers digging into the side of the leather seat to keep herself from shaking. "thank you," yerim whispers again, closer this time, moving to kiss the inside of her thigh. "unnie, thank you so much," yerim purrs, finally placing her lips against sooyoung's center hidden behind her clothes, feeling the warmth there, the heat, the slick.

"ah, haah, oh god," sooyoung groans, throwing her head back as yerim presses into her, soaking her slacks, mouthing at her clit. "mhh, jesus christ," she hisses out as she looks back down, hips rolling involuntarily against yerim's face, shivers breaking out through her skin as she feels herself losing control. she's at the complete mercy of yerim's mouth on her, and she isn't even naked yet. holy shit. 

the younger woman laps against her unashamedly, as if the material of her slacks can’t stop her, and sooyoung feels it. every movement of her jaw, her lips, and her tongue are making their mark, powering through the rough cloth and sweeping against her heat as if there was nothing between the two of them. 

“nggh, yes, fuck,” she moans, grunting when yerim starts using her teeth. her slacks and underwear are too thick for it to hurt; instead it gets sooyoung delirious from pleasure.

yerim places her hands on the insides of her thighs and pushes her legs wider, the widest they can go in the chair before they’re stopped by the armrests, and sooyoung bites into her fist to stop herself from being even louder.

and then the CEO grabs her hand and positions it on top of the blonde’s scalp, urging her to move her, to take control, to use her in some way. no, no no no. sooyoung can receive but she can’t place a finger on the CEO, not without feeling undeserving.

“CEO-nim–” sooyoung gasps, her hand useless atop the light colored hair. “I–”

yerim quickly disconnects her face from sooyoung’s crotch, ripping another gasp out of the older woman. she eyes her from her place between her legs, face flushed and lips reddened from the pressure she had been using and the friction caused by sooyoung’s bottom.

the younger woman frowns–no, pouts up at her. “it’s yerim, unnie.”

sooyoung grits her teeth. “kim yerim-ssi–”

“no. yerim,” she whines. “unnie, call me yerim.”

the older woman bites her lip before taking a breath. she can’t resist that pout and those eyes. okay. “yerim.”

said woman purrs as she looks up at her. “yes, unnie?”

oh, god. is she allowed to ask this? “I… want to feel you on me. is that oka–”

“god, yes, unnie. anything for you. I just want to thank you so much,” yerim whines, hands flying to unzip and unbutton sooyoung’s brown slacks, tugging at them and sooyoung’s underwear impatiently. “help me, unnie.”

sooyoung feels the heat rush to her face and boil in her abdomen simultaneously, sweating despite the cold air of the room. she raises her hips as yerim strips her down, the pale skin of her thighs and the pink flush of her slit coming into view.

as soon as her bottom is completely naked, yerim throws sooyoung's pants and panties to the floor before diving straight into the older woman's heat. 

"yerim!" sooyoung cries, head falling back, hands flying to yerim's head on her pussy, opening her legs wider and urging yerim to go deeper.

and yerim does. sooyoung feels the woman roll her tongue against her nub and suck on it, before moving her face lower to play with sooyoung's fluttering lips. it feels amazing, having the CEO on her knees, eating her out, her wet tongue wiggling in between her folds as her thumb pressed against her clit. 

sooyoung thighs quiver when she tries to raise them higher and settle them on the arms of the chair, tilting her pelvis for yerim to enter her even further. 

"haah, oh my god, oh god," sooyoung blubbers out as she gyrates her hips and tugs on yerim's hair. she looks back down and whines when she sees yerim's dark eyes glued on her, watching her every move as she flicks her tongue in and around her cunt, eating her out almost feverishly. 

the clench in her gut tightens further, her body a taut spring ready to break. she feels like she's in fire, every inch of skin sensitive as she teeters on the edge.

"yerim–yerim, fuck, I'm going to–aah, nnggh!" 

sooyoung comes hard. she wraps her legs around yerim's head as the younger closes her eyes and buries her deep into her pussy, as deep as she can go, and yerim laps her up hungrily, still. sooyoung jerks every few seconds, a volcano spitting lava, until eventually she can breathe again. 

she whines when yerim sucks her too-sensitive pearl before trying to push her away, though the younger is faster and gives her clit a last peck with her thick lips. 

sooyoung pales. she just got eaten out by the CEO of her company. what the fuck. what the fuck. 

yerim stands and then sits on the table in front of her, pushing aside the tea set she'd brought over. "that was fun."

sooyoung sits back up, wincing as her slick feels slimy between her skin and the leather of her seat. "yerim," she starts to say. she should return the favour. "let me–" 

yerim laughs as she starts buttoning her shirt back up. "that's not how it's going to work, park sooyoung-ssi."

the older woman snaps her mouth shut. okay. back to formal language then. "yes, of course, CEO-nim. I apologise for presuming anything."

"ah, so cute," yerim coos as she grabs her cream pants off the floor, slipping them through her ankles. "this is what's going to happen, okay? every time you manage to save me or the company or just do an overall good job, I'm going to thank you."

"yes, CEO-nim."

yerim zips up her own pants. "and if you think I do a good job in any of my decisions as CEO… well. you can always personally thank me as well." 

sooyoung nods as she picks up her clothes and wears them, biting her lip all the while. so she can only be 'grateful' if it's related to the company. of course. 

wait. did the CEO do this to every–?

"I know what you're thinking." sooyoung jumps in place from surprise as yerim takes a seat by her desk. "and the answer is that it's only you, park sooyoung-ssi." yerim eyes her from her seat, the same gaze she held earlier when she was in between her legs, liquid fire of want. "okay?" 

something in sooyoung's chest flutters at the reassurance. yerim certainly knew how to motivate sooyoung–and maybe even keep her loyal to the company. they'll just have to wait and see. 

"of course, CEO-nim."

---

#joyri #lynenspray #CEO!yerim verse #CEO!yerim joyri

[spacedancer1701]

Another Life - a Star Trek fic - (Chapters 36 - 40)

Sequel to ‘On Borrowed Time’

Fandoms: Star Trek, Star Trek: The Original Series (TOS), Star Trek: Alternate Original Series (AOS) Pairing: McCoy x Original Female Character (Dr. Jennifer Hope) Characters: The Crew of the USS Enterprise (NCC-1701) Rating/Warnings: None Tags: Romance, Friendship, Love, Warm and Fuzzy Feelings, Angst/H/C, Caring/Protective/Tender/Comforting/Happy/Grumpy/Worried McCoy Word Count: This is a long one. Again. 😄 (71 chapters - 177k)

Read it on AO3: Another Life  

                                                                                                                                                                  Chapter 36

Obviously, with amnesia, there wasn’t all that much you could do but give it time. And hope. McCoy was still spending his nights researching, but he always seemed to end up with the same disappointing result. There were so many different kinds of amnesia, so many different outcomes and experiences. As he’d told a disappointed Hope long ago, the human brain was still quite a mystery, even in the 23rd century with all its advanced science and opportunities.

The more research he did, however, the more reason he saw to be thankful. That Hope had recovered such a large portion of her memory in such a short time, and was able to just continue with her job as well as all the things she liked to do in her free time, was certainly not the norm. She had been incredibly lucky, and the doctor was grateful for that. Giving up their relationship suddenly seemed like a small price to pay for her to continue her life and her career otherwise unimpaired.

Nevertheless, McCoy still hoped for her to remember. But days turned into weeks, and he started to resign himself to the possibility that she might never recover the past two years. The thought was painful beyond belief, and he was sorry not only for himself, but also for what she had lost. She’d been truly happy, and she’d loved those memories. Spending whole nights reminiscing with him had been one of her favourite things, he thought fondly, hoping against hope that they’d at least get the chance to make new memories.

But things were different now, and she seemed happy, too, fully functional as an officer and having fun getting to know everyone again. Hope was exactly the same woman as before, did the same things, had the same passions and the same wonderful personality. She was the same wonderful woman he’d fallen in love with, the same woman who’d fallen in love with him. But she wasn’t his wonderful woman anymore.

She was getting to know him again, of course, and he was grateful that she was still so comfortable around him. Trusted him, felt safe with him, liked to spend time with him. But since she wasn’t working in sickbay anymore, they just didn’t see as much of each other as they used to during her first year aboard. She was having her evening coffee mostly with other people now, was growing close to other people, too. Their connection wasn’t as special to her as it had been the first time around.

And it certainly didn’t help that he sometimes actively avoided her, because being near her, without being close, was often just too much to bear. Hope was his life, but he had to pretend that she was just a patient, just another crew member. They belonged together, but she simply didn’t remember. At times, the desire to sweep her into his arms and hold her forever was just too overwhelming, and he had to get away from her as fast as he could. Other times, it was the helplessness turning into anger, that made him run off without explanation before he could say or do anything he’d definitely regret afterwards.

There were no words to describe how terribly he missed her. From the minute he woke up in the morning to the moment he crawled into his cold, empty bed at night. The nights were the worst. He yearned for her warm, delightful body nestled against him so comfortingly. And it wasn’t even the sex he missed most. It was the closeness, the tenderness, the intimacy. Of course, he’d been alone in his bed, dreaming about her more often than he cared to remember during her first year aboard, too. But it was so much worse now that he knew what it was like to be with her. How good they were together.

What probably hurt most, though, was the fact that he couldn’t discuss any of this with her, couldn’t share this burden with her, couldn’t depend on her optimism and draw comfort from her unconditional support. He’d got so used to telling her about everything on his mind, including medical matters way beyond her expertise. And even though she might often not have been able to make any scientific recommendations, just talking about things usually helped.

But he was truly alone in this now. After months of convincing himself that it was okay to drop his shields and let someone in again, to trust and rely on someone once more, he was back to where he’d always known he belonged, yet had hoped never to find himself again. Alone.

-x-x-x-x-x-

Jenny was feeling better and stronger with every day that passed. She loved her work, feeling immensely proud that her plan to focus on her studies and career had obviously worked out so well. Rank of lieutenant, head of her own, if small, department, and all that within five years of waking up to a completely different world and time.

The thought that she’d just come out of another coma, sleep, stasis, whatever it had been, with no real idea of how long she’d been out, was, of course, still a little unsettling. But for some reason she had this total, instinctive trust in Dr. McCoy, and, frankly, couldn’t see any reason why he, or any of the others, should have been lying to her. Not to forget his genuine shock and concern, when he’d found out that she didn’t remember him.

Besides, she’d definitely heard of Captain James T. Kirk and the Enterprise during her Academy years. And the captain looked exactly like the holos she’d seen of him, so she really couldn’t have been asleep that long.

The Enterprise.

Jenny still couldn’t believe that she’d not only been cleared for starship duty, but had even made it to the Fleet’s flagship. Beside her work, she loved everything about the Enterprise. All the activities she engaged in in her free time, the band and dancing mostly, of course, but, above all, really, she liked the crew. Jenny might only begin to know them again, but they already felt like friends.

The doctor was still her favourite. Maybe because he’d been there when she’d first woken up, and had so kindly and caringly looked after her ever since. Or simply because he’d been the one to take her in his arms, and she just couldn’t forget how wonderful his warm embrace had felt. Jenny was also aware that he was still dedicating a lot of his free time to doing research on amnesia, for which she was immensely grateful, and which sent a warm feeling to her stomach every time she thought about it.

McCoy knew how vulnerable she felt, with who knew how many of her memories still missing, maybe even lost forever, and his protectiveness was just what she needed. Although the doctor’s mood swings seemed to have become more frequent recently, and she sometimes got the impression that he was actually angry with her.

One moment he was kind and fun, seeming to enjoy their conversation, and looking at her with a tenderness that went straight to her heart, and the next, he couldn’t get away fast enough, suddenly seeming angry, or maybe disappointed, with her. And she had no idea why.

She’d even tried to talk to him about it, outright asked if she’d done anything to annoy him, if there was some disagreement between them she didn’t remember, some unfinished business. But he’d just brushed it off as something she imagined while actually getting mad at the question, only to touch the gentlest hand to her face, tenderly caressing her cheek and looking deeply into her eyes the next moment.

Maybe the obligation he felt, as her doctor, to look after her was getting too much, and he was fed up with playing the babysitter. Or maybe she’d been too obvious, he’d noticed how incredibly drawn she felt to him and just didn’t want to lead her on. Just because she loved to be near him, didn’t necessarily mean that he wanted that, too.

Perhaps she should stop taking up so much of his time and spend more time with her other friends instead. Relieve him a little of babysitting duty. The strange thing was just that, whenever she did, McCoy still seemed to hover somewhere nearby, not quite able to stop watching over her.

Anyways, she really wanted to keep focused on her career, no matter how often she might dream of the doctor’s arms and smile. She’d be going on her first landing party soon, and she couldn’t wait. All Jenny had to do was pass a physical exam before then, and she truly hoped that McCoy would let her.

-x-x-x-x-x-

“You can get dressed again, love,” McCoy smiled at Hope when he’d finished his examination, perching on the edge of the nearby computer desk and skimming through the results of her blood tests.

He just couldn’t stop calling her ‘love’, but thankfully, she didn’t seem to mind, simply taking it as his way of talking. Like he called other patients ‘darling’ or ‘sweetheart’.

When he looked up from his display again, however, Hope still hadn’t moved and just kept staring at him, sort of expectantly. Then the penny dropped. She was waiting for him to leave, or at least turn around, while she took off the medical gown and changed back into her uniform.

“I’ll be back in a minute to talk about your results,” he mumbled, making a quick exit and sitting down heavily at the desk in his office next door.

He’d simply forgotten. But this was the woman he knew inside out, as intimately as you could know anyone. He was familiar with every one of her birthmarks, knew what every single inch of her skin felt like, hell, even tasted like. He knew how to make her melt under his touch, how beautiful she looked when she was in the throes of passion. How to rub her back to make her purr with pleasure and where to tickle her to make her squeal and giggle. And now he had to leave the room while she got changed.

McCoy rested his head in his hands, wondering how much more he could take. He loved Hope more than anything else in the world, and always would. But the hurt was just overwhelming, and he could feel himself approaching breaking point. Sitting with her before she’d woken from her coma, he’d believed to be prepared for anything, happy to stay by her side and care for her no matter what. Determined to deal with whatever physical and/or mental handicap she might have been left with, making sure that she got all the love and care she needed, never leaving her side. But that wasn’t possible now. He was forced to keep his distance. Give her privacy. Take care of her from afar.

And in less than a week, she’d be on her first assignment joining a landing party again. De facto her first, as far as she was concerned. McCoy remembered only too well how nervous she’d been on her actual first assignment. And how dangerous it had turned out despite starting off as completely harmless. Well, if Jim wanted her to go, he’d have to let the doctor join the landing party, too. There was no other way McCoy was going to clear Hope for this assignment.

                                                                                                                                                                  Chapter 37  

When Dr. McCoy returned some minutes later, he seemed frazzled, and Jenny’s heart went out to him and whoever had been unfortunate enough to cross him in the short time he’d been away. Thankfully, it didn’t seem to have anything to do with her results, since the doctor, although rather distractedly, told her that she was in excellent health and could certainly join the landing party after he’d cleared a few details with Captain Kirk.

Seeing her relief and joy at the good news, McCoy even managed a smile, but Jenny sensed that his mind was already elsewhere. So she just quickly thanked him and all but skipped out of sickbay, heading straight for the gym, where she was meeting Chekov for one of their dancing units.

Leaning back against the back panel of the turbolift, she couldn’t believe how much she’d just enjoyed her physical, smiling at the thought that she was probably the only crew member who did. But opportunities to be near the doctor were rare these days, and she’d relished every gentle touch, not caring that they had just been part of the examination.

Having the doctor stand so close that she could feel the warmth radiating from his body had given her goose bumps, and, ridiculous as it sounded, she thought he smelled so nice. Jenny didn’t know why, maybe her dad had used a similar aftershave or something, but Dr. McCoy, even with the ever-present waft of antiseptic, somehow smelled like home.

After her dancing session with Chekov, where Pavel had once again left no doubt about his feelings for her, Jenny indulged in a real-water shower to celebrate her excellent test results, exhilarated at the prospect of joining her first – at least to her memory – landing party. Later, in bed, thinking about Chekov’s eagerness, she couldn’t help but wonder if she might actually have reciprocated his feelings before her coma.

Pavel was certainly a brilliant and attractive young man, although she somehow always thought of him as more of a boy. He was kind and fun, and would undoubtedly be a good match as far as rank and age were concerned. She was also pretty sure that he’d make a really attentive boyfriend, but she just couldn’t see them together. Not unless being in his arms while dancing could make her feel the way she had in McCoy’s arms.

Oh God, can’t I even finish a single thought without the doctor invading it? she grumbled to herself, feeling her heart skip a beat just at the idea of dancing with McCoy.

No, there was no way she could see Pavel as anything but a friend. She’d have to find the right moment to tell him that, even if it hurt him and meant that he didn’t want to continue their dancing sessions. But she definitely didn’t want to lead him on. Maybe that was precisely the pickle McCoy found himself in with her, Jenny thought despondently. That he liked her, but just not in that way.

Trying to shift her thoughts away from the doctor and her non-existent love life, Jenny tried to recapitulate all the information she’d gathered about herself so far, concerning those last two missing years. McCoy – God, here he was again – had encouraged everyone aboard to tell her as many facts about the past two years as they wanted, in the hope that something might trigger her memories, but at the same time had instructed the crew to really stick to the facts, and not to foist any private suspicions, based on guesswork and gossip, on her, especially concerning her personal life. If they wanted her to truly remember, feeding her false information would certainly not be helpful.

There had, of course, been a few personal things that people had let slip nevertheless, but nothing that really seemed of relevance to her. As for the facts, Jenny had so far learned that, to her great astonishment, she’d worked in sickbay – although that might explain why the doctor knew her so well, had been on a dangerous first mission from which she’d returned with a broken ankle after saving the captain’s life – a little exaggerated, surely – and also Peterson’s from security before that – definitely exaggerated.

She’d further been told that she’d been on the Lexington for six months, and had headed her own department of linguistics ever since her return. That her and Uhura’s gigs with the band were legendary, and, her favourite, that she was reportedly good friends with at least half the crew.

Chekov had told her of their many dancing shows, giggling about how McCoy used to freak out over their Rock’n’Roll acrobatics, and that she’d saved Christmas for several crewmates by preparing surprise presents for anyone who would have gone without otherwise. All with Pavel’s help of course. Apparently, she had even once performed field surgery on him, which she’d taken for one of Chekov’s less tasteful jokes at first, but which McCoy had later confirmed with a soft, almost emotional look in his eyes.

Uhura had been the one to fill her in on all the little things, like what her favourite replicated food was – chicken salad sandwich, the one McCoy had got her after he’d taken her off the drip, which song she’d loved to perform most – To Make You Feel My Love, which had come as no surprise to her, but which, being a classic country song, quite obviously wasn’t one of Nyota’s favourites, that she’d become some sort of yoga guru on the Enterprise, and many more little facts like that.

Since Nyota was not only her best friend, but also without doubt the most communicative, Jenny kept pestering her about her pre-coma relationships, specifically her love life, wanting to know so badly if she’d been more than friends with anyone aboard. But so far, Uhura had remained annoyingly vague in that regard. She’d admitted to being under the impression that Jenny might actually have been in love, or something to that effect. Lots of words in intricate sentences full of question marks and maybes. She wouldn’t even hint at who she had in mind. It had never been more than a sneaking suspicion, anyway, Uhura had claimed, since Jenny had always adamantly denied it.

Closing her eyes with a groan, she tried to wrack her brains once more for some little memory, anything at all. She didn’t know why, but she just couldn’t shake the feeling that those two years had not only been incredibly adventurous and career-furthering, but also very emotional. The thought that someone aboard might know her much more intimately than they let on, was, to say the least, unsettling, but also made her sad. If she’d been in love with someone, she really wanted to know.

When Uhura hadn’t been very forthcoming, Jenny had tried to approach the subject from a different angle, asking her if she knew of anyone who might have feelings for her.

But Nyota, seeing right through her, had just laughed and said, “Take your pick, sugar! There’s not a person aboard who’s not in love with you.”

“You mean it could be a woman, too?” Jenny had exclaimed, disheartened by the now even wider choice of possible ‘candidates’.

“Not that I know of, but, hell, yeah. Why not, I guess?” Uhura had chuckled, obviously pleased that she’d managed to confuse her friend even more.

After that conversation, Jenny’s mind had gone into overdrive, much to Nyota’s amusement. She’d considered Christine – no way, although the nurse was lovely, Peterson – he’d been extremely grateful, mentioning her saving his life several times, and finally had even straight out asked Uhura, if they’d been in love.

Nyota had doubled over with laughter at that, assuring her that, although they’d been very close and she loved her dearly, there had never been anything remotely romantic between them.

“Don’t let this drive you crazy, Jenny, you’ll figure it out in the end,” her friend had said at last, and then cryptically added, “As far as I can tell, you’re already on the right track, anyway. Just keep following your heart and everything will be fine. No need to rush into anything, either. If it is who I think it is, he’ll stick around.”

Back to ‘he’, then, well at least that was something. Follow her heart? Uhura’s advice kept haunting her. Who had Nyota been talking about? There was only one person her heart really wanted to follow. But there was no way Uhura could know about him, was there?

Looking at the time, Jenny realised that she had to go to sleep quickly, if she didn’t want to show up for her shift like a zombie the next day. Closing her eyes, she pictured all the possible ‘candidates’ one more time, thinking how much easier things would be, if McCoy were actually an option.

Well, a girl could dream.

But seriously, she thought, how sad would it be, if there really had been someone, and she didn’t remember being in love with them, especially, if the feeling had been mutual. If only she could find out who it was, maybe she could learn to love them again?

-x-x-x-x-x-

Chekov was in seventh heaven. They’d put in a dancing unit almost every evening, and not once, since she’d woken from her coma, had Hope mentioned loving him like a brother. In fact, she’d actually flirted with him, something she’d never done before. Not even in the beginning, when he’d still thought he could win her heart. No, she’d always been very clear about not having any romantic feelings for him, but now things were different, and it really felt like a second chance to him.

Along with the rest of the crew, Pavel had been quite sure that Hope was actually with Dr. McCoy, and, although the thought hurt like hell, he’d accepted it as a fact. But as long as they were still dancing together, there’d always been a tiny spark of hope in his heart, that she might, one day, realise that she was madly in love with him, after all.

Maybe that day had arrived? He wouldn’t want to get in the doctor’s way, of course, but assuming him and Hope to be an item must have been a mistake after all. Honestly, even suffering from amnesia, you’d surely remember who you were in love with, wouldn’t you? No, this was his big chance, and he was going to grab it with both hands. He was going to woo Hope like she’d never been wooed before.

But perhaps he’d still have a little talk with the doctor before making a complete fool of himself. Yes, that seemed like a good idea. He’d go and see McCoy first thing tomorrow.

-x-x-x-x-x-

McCoy was surprised to see Chekov nervously pacing outside his office, obviously trying to summon up the courage to come in. What could the young Russian want to talk to him about that got him so flustered?

“Come in already, Chekov,” McCoy grumbled amicably, grabbing the surprised man’s arm and pulling him inside, “you’re going to ruin my floor if you keep running in circles like that.”

Returning to his desk and sitting down in his chair, the doctor looked at Chekov expectantly, motioning for him to sit down as well, but the young man just stood there, nervously twiddling his fingers.

“I need to talk to you about Jenny. Hope, I mean,” Chekov suddenly blurted, catching McCoy completely off guard.

Good thing the doctor was already sitting down.

“What about her?” McCoy asked, immediately getting his hackles up and looking at the young man through narrowed eyes.

“You know, I’ve always thought Jenny is an amazing woman,” the Russian continued hesitantly.

Tell me something I don’t know, the doctor thought, piqued.

“But she’s never been interested in me so far. Romantically, I mean.”

“And now she is?” the doctor snapped, feeling his heart beating faster.

What was Chekov getting at?

“I don’t know,” the other man stammered, visibly losing heart, “but she hasn’t mentioned feeling for me like for a brother once since she woke up. And I think she’s … flirting with me.”

McCoy wanted to throttle him.

“Why are you telling me this, Chekov?” the doctor asked, not even trying to keep the irritation out of his voice.

“Because I need to be sure that you’re okay with this, before...” Pavel murmured, his face turning a bright shade of pink.

“Before what?” McCoy barked, leaning forward in his chair and fixing the other man with his eyes.

“Before I ask her out for, I don’t know, dinner, maybe?” Chekov’s voice was barely a whisper now.

“And why wouldn’t I be okay with that?” the doctor asked gruffly, leaning back again and trying to unclench his fists.

It wasn’t Chekov’s fault that Hope didn’t remember their love, was it?

“Well, to be honest, I’ve always thought that you and Jenny...” the young man’s voice trailed away.

“That we what?” McCoy pressed on.

He wanted to make him spell it out. Even if his heartache wasn’t Chekov’s fault, the doctor wasn’t going to make this easy on him.

“Er … that you were more than just friends?” Pavel offered awkwardly.

McCoy snorted, trying to ignore the knot that had formed in his stomach. He had to bring this absurd conversation to an end and get rid of Chekov quickly, before he lost his temper.

“You don’t need my permission, Chekov,” the doctor said, an icy tone underlying his display of composure, “Hope is free to do as she pleases, or do you think she’d flirt with you, if she were with anyone else?”

The young man shook his head sheepishly, and McCoy found that, despite all his hurt, he couldn’t stand the thought of Hope being considered as anything less than decent and loyal.

“Just maybe take it slow,” he suggested, surprising himself by how much like fatherly advice this sounded, “Hope might still recover her memory, and you wouldn’t want to be involved too deeply, if she finds out that there’s been someone else all along.”

It was true, there was still hope.

And to take the focus away from himself as well as plant some doubt in Chekov’s mind, not something he felt particularly proud of, of course, McCoy nastily added, “You don’t know, there might even be someone on the Lexington waiting for her.”

                                                                                                                                                                  Chapter 38 

When the door had closed behind a subdued Chekov, McCoy grabbed his favourite coffee mug and flung it forcefully against the wall, satisfied to watch it shatter into a thousand little pieces. Then he slumped in his chair and took a little box out of one of his desk drawers. Opening the box, he looked forlornly at the delicate, dolphin-shaped ring in there.

They’d had to remove all jewellery, fighting to bring Hope back that fateful day she’d sacrificed her life. And his. He’d meant to return the ring with all of Hope’s other things from his quarters, but then somehow hadn’t been able to let go of it. It was a token of their love, a tiny reminder of what had once been, and she didn’t even remember having it, anyway.

Can’t really blame Chekov for trying, McCoy thought, feeling the rage and despair slowly seeping out of his body, leaving plenty of room for hopeless grief in their stead.

Anyone in their right mind would, if there was a chance to gain Hope’s affection, wouldn’t they? And at least the kid had had the decency to ask.

He couldn’t blame Hope either. She didn’t remember, and he was being increasingly distant with her, while Chekov wasn’t. He’d always thought they’d make a nice pair, anyway. Hope needed affection, and Chekov certainly wasn’t a bad choice. With McCoy out of the picture, he could actually see her falling for the young Russian. The doctor slumped even further down in his chair. And there he’d thought he’d already hit rock bottom.

Still tenderly holding Hope’s ring in his fingers, McCoy was startled out of his thoughts by Kirk’s cheerful voice, as the captain stuck his head around the door to his office.

“You wanted to talk to me about Hope and the landing party?” Jim asked brightly, stopping abruptly when he saw his friend’s obvious misery.

“What’s the matter, Bones? You look as if you’ve seen a ghost!” the captain went on as soon as the doors had hissed shut behind him, stepping towards the desk and sitting down in the chair across from McCoy.

“Chekov was just here,” the doctor murmured so low that Kirk could hardly hear him, “practically asking my permission to date Hope. And who could blame him... “

“Bones!” the captain cut him short, “You can’t just give her up without a fight! You really need to tell her!”

“I can’t, Jim!” McCoy groaned, lifting doleful eyes to Jim’s. “Don’t you see? I can’t force a relationship on her, dammit! I can’t make her love me! I’m just a man she barely knows, a man she has no feelings for.”

“You don’t know that, do you?” Kirk argued, his voice soft now.

The doctor just rolled his eyes and quietly said, “All I really want is for her to be happy, Jim.”

“Then court her, Bones! Surely you still know how to do that? Tell her how you feel! Start anew! You’ve won her heart once, you can do it again!”

The captain was getting exasperated.

“Can’t do that, either,” McCoy sighed. “I’m her doctor and her superior.”

“Technically, you were that before, too,” Jim pointed out. “Even more so, when she was still working in sickbay.”

“That was different,” the doctor argued. “We’d known each other for a year until I gave in to my feelings. And by then, even I could see how much she loved me. I don’t see that now. And I can’t make her. She’s free to choose whoever she wants. Maybe it’s even better that way. I’ve always felt she deserved better.”

“You don’t mean that,” Kirk huffed, shaking his head. “You know just as well as I do how perfect you are for each other. Hope couldn’t find anyone better. And she deserves a chance to have that again. Don’t you think? Much as I like Chekov, you and Hope were made for each other. Anyone who’s ever seen you together knows that.”

“What was it again you came here for, Jim?” McCoy changed the subject, putting the ring back in its box and returning it to its place in the drawer.

He just couldn’t keep discussing this now, he needed to clear his head first, needed some time alone to think everything Jim had just said through.

“The landing party,” Kirk replied, respecting his friend’s wish to move on with their conversation. For now, at least.

“Oh, yes,” the doctor said, sighing when he realised that this was still about Hope, after all. “Jenny’s in top form again. Physically. But with the issue of amnesia still hanging in the air, I’ll only let her go on that assignment, if you let me come, too.”

“Sure,” the captain replied without hesitation, getting up to leave and smirking at McCoy’s disbelieving look at how easily Kirk had agreed. “Another day, another chance! I had planned on letting you tag along, anyway.”

-x-x-x-x-x-

The doctor was still staring after his friend, when Hope tentatively knocked on his door.

“Need anything?” McCoy asked dismissively, immediately regretting sounding so gruff.

It wasn’t her fault he could hardly look at her. She hadn’t done anything wrong, but after talking to Chekov, he just couldn’t help feeling betrayed.

“Sorry,” Hope said in a small voice, “if this is a bad time, I can come back later.”

She looked so lost, that the doctor’s heart went out to her, any bad feelings instantly forgotten. If Hope had come here looking for help, he couldn’t just turn her away.

“What can I do for you, Hope?” he said, much more warmly this time, getting up from his desk and crossing the room towards where she was still standing in the door.

“I … I don’t know, really, I … just came to see you, it’s nothing important, sorry, Doctor,” she stammered, spinning around to slip out the door again.

“Don’t go, please stay,” McCoy exclaimed, quickly grasping her arm to keep her from leaving. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to be rude, I’m just having a difficult time for various reasons, but you can always come to me, if you need something, or even just because you feel like it.”

The doctor’s heart beat a little faster, thinking that Hope’s subconscious still guided her to him.

“I’m sorry to hear about your difficulties,” she smiled shyly at him, looking down at his hand still on her arm. “Is there anything I can do for you? If you want to talk, I’m a good listener.”

“I know, Hope,” McCoy smiled back at her, taking his hand away again. “You always have been, but thanks, not this time.”

If only she knew how badly he wanted to talk to her, tell her everything and hear her say that it was going to be fine.

“But it was you, who came to me,” the doctor reminded her gently. “So, how can I help?”

“I’m not sure, really,” she said, bemused, “I just came here, because …”

“Because?” McCoy prompted softly.

“I’m sorry, I really can’t seem to remember why I came here,” she admitted sheepishly, and he could see her eyes suddenly turning anxious. “Do you think there’s something else wrong with my brain, Doctor?”

“No, love,” McCoy tried to reassure her. “The results of your physical were excellent. We all forget things sometimes.”

They were still standing in the doorway, and the doctor beckoned her a little further inside, so that the doors would slide shut behind her. He didn’t feel like continuing their conversation at his desk, though. Standing here, so close to her, was just too delightful.

“It doesn’t even feel like I’ve forgotten the reason,” Hope said, sounding puzzled. “I don’t think I had one in the first place. It’s more like I wanted to come, because… maybe I like sickbay and loved working here?”

“You remember?” McCoy felt new hope rising inside him.

“No,” she sighed, looking crestfallen, “but I do feel comfortable here, so I guessed...”

She shrugged, and McCoy tilted his head encouragingly, sensing that there was still more she wanted to tell him.

“Oh, Doctor,” she looked straight at him, the words suddenly pouring out of her, “I know I said it’s only two years, and what’s that in the grand scheme of things. And you told me I was lucky and that I should be grateful. And I am, I really am. Things could be so much worse. But this not knowing everything about myself is driving me crazy. These gaps in my memories are scary. Does that make any sense? Don’t ask me why, but I really feel that something significant has happened in those two years, that I’m missing something … momentous.”

For a moment, McCoy was dumbstruck, with no idea how to answer. He could see it clearly now. The missing two years not only meant that she didn’t remember their love. She’d also been robbed of all the experiences that had turned her into the confident, self-assured woman she’d become. As it were, she seemed more like the insecure girl she’d been when he’d first come to know her.

She’d always been strong, very capable and mature in her work and her attitude, but emotionally, she’d come a long way in those two years, had done a lot of growing up. He’d loved the shy girl, too, of course, but he only realised now how much he missed, and needed, this amazing woman, who had returned to him from the Lexington, by his side.

“Doctor, I feel afraid. Will I ever remember?” Hope broke into his thoughts.

“Well, physically, there’s no reason why you shouldn’t,” the doctor replied, trying hard to keep his voice steady. “There’s still a chance, just give it time.”

Looking at the woman before him, gazing at him with pleading eyes and clearly expecting him to pull the proverbial rabbit out of the hat, McCoy had to briefly close his eyes to get his emotions back under control.

Screw impeccable conduct, he thought.

Hope was scared, and she needed him now. She needed warmth and reassurance and security. And she’d come to him of all people looking for it. Not to Chekov or anyone else, but to him. The least he could do was comfort her.

This time, he didn’t even ask, but just opened his arms for her, and when Hope instantly stepped into his embrace, closed them firmly around her again. McCoy held her tight, and she hesitantly wrapped her arms around his waist. A little shyly at first, but then she just nestled into his arms, as if she’d always been there. She wasn’t even crying, she just needed to be held. And suddenly, everything seemed all right with the world again.

Even though she still didn’t remember, and maybe never would, right now, a new start for them didn’t seem as unthinkable as it had only minutes ago. That she’d instinctively come to him with her fears, meant that there was still hope. He’d just be there for her, give her time to get to know him again. Falling in love had been wonderful the first time around, and maybe Jim was right. Maybe she would fall in love with him again.

And if, no, when she did, he could tell her all about those two years. She’d treasured all of their memories, delighted in reminiscing about their time together, but what she’d always enjoyed most, was him telling ‘their story’. Hope could never get enough of hearing him tell her all about how he’d fallen in love with her. Head over heels that first evening in the mess, and then a little further every day. She’d certainly love hearing all that again.  

                                                                                                                                                                  Chapter 39  

Jenny buried her face in the doctor’s chest, inhaling his comforting scent and relishing being wrapped in his protective embrace. She’d been longing to be this close to him again for weeks, and it felt just wonderful. To think that only minutes ago, she’d been feeling scared, alone, lost. And McCoy’s tender arms had taken all those feelings away, just like that, and replaced them with warm comfort. This was exactly what she’d been dreaming about every night. And right now, the doctor’s arms felt like the safest place in the world.

She’d been thinking about her life, her future, afraid that those missing years would come back to haunt her, not just privately, but that they might even endanger her career. Heading a department full of older, experienced scientists, when she felt like a mere cadet, barely graduated, was proving more intimidating than she’d anticipated. And all the stories about her, that people kept telling her, all those tall tales about this strong, admirable woman who was a complete stranger to her, put an almost crushing pressure to perform on her.

So, she’d done what she always did when she felt troubled or insecure. She’d come to sickbay. As if sickbay held all the answers. But she couldn’t help it, she just felt incredibly comfortable around the place and had already found herself ending up here numerous times, when she’d actually just been aimlessly wandering around the ship, lost in thought. Drawn to the place, or possibly the doctor, not just figuratively, but also literally.

Why was she so attracted to McCoy, anyway? He was older, he was moody and irascible, and yet, he was always so gentle with her. Like now. He’d been less than welcoming when she’d knocked on his door earlier, her embarrassment growing even worse when she hadn’t been able to explain what she’d actually come to sickbay for, afraid that she was starting to forget even the most recent events as well. But when he’d seen her distress, he’d gone from gruff to soft in the blink of an eye, as if all those layers of grumpiness had just fallen away to reveal his true, caring nature.

Opening his arms for her, holding her so tenderly, so protectively, had seemed to come naturally to him. Jenny might not always know where she stood with the doctor, his stressful job probably the main reason for his frequent crabbiness, those layers of grouchy irritation a protective shield against all the pain and despair he was confronted with on a daily basis, so it wouldn’t get in the way of his medical efficiency and break him emotionally. But she was absolutely certain that he’d always be there if she was in real trouble. If anyone was in real trouble, she corrected herself quickly. He was kind like that.

Even standing here like this, their arms around each other like lovers, she had to stay aware of the fact that she was really no one special to him, just another patient, another crew member. No matter how much she wished this could be more, he was not interested in her that way. She was just someone he felt protective about. Probably because he had a daughter nearly the same age, as she’d learned from Uhura only this morning over breakfast. Jenny remembered that particular conversation vividly.

“You’re sometimes too sweet for your own good, Jenny,” Uhura had said, rolling her eyes and shaking her head indulgently. “Not long ago, you even sacrificed your ticket for shore leave on the galaxy’s hottest recreation planet, so that Dr. McCoy could meet his daughter there.”

“McCoy has a daughter?” Jenny had been completely taken aback.

“Yes, he does. Joanna. Although he doesn’t get to see her often. He’s divorced. And Joanna’s almost your age, by the way.”

Oh!

That had certainly been an eye-opener. If McCoy had a daughter around the same age, that was probably why he felt so protective about her. And if she’d given him the chance to see Joanna on shore leave, he was surely grateful, too. Jenny could hardly believe how much that information had hurt, but it had, of course, explained why the doctor would never have a romantic interest in her, someone young enough to be his daughter.

Well, she could still enjoy his company. And stay in his arms as long as he let her, now that she’d finally got another chance to be close to him. Nothing had changed, really. At least not as far as he was concerned. And hadn’t the security she felt when she was with him, his protectiveness, been what had drawn her to him in the first place? She could still relish that. Yes, she’d be more than content with his friendship, if it even was that.

Despite never wanting this heavenly moment to end, Jenny found herself pulling out of the embrace after a while. McCoy hadn’t given any indication that he wanted her to, but with her arms so intimately around his waist, she suddenly felt shy again. It felt all wrong, and yet so incredibly right. Well, the way she was clinging to him, he’d hardly have the heart to push her away anytime soon. No, she had to let go first. It was certainly what he expected and patiently waited for. And she really didn’t want to test the limits of his patience.

“I’m sorry, Doctor,” Jenny smiled, pulling back and shivering against the sudden cold, as the doctor slowly let his hands slide down her arms before letting go completely, as if he wanted to make sure she was steady on her feet again. “Thank you.”

Or maybe he needed to steady himself? He’d seemed almost reluctant to let her go, too. But that was just wishful thinking.

“My pleasure, love,” McCoy drawled, his adorable accent suddenly thick, and the tenderness in his eyes, as he gazed at her, melting her heart. “You all right?”

“Better than all right,” she beamed, feeling elated, her body still glowing from his closeness and his tender touch. “This was just what I needed.”

The words were out before she realised what she was saying, and she could instantly feel the colour rising to her cheeks. The kindness he was showing her was clearly going to her head. But McCoy’s affectionate gaze never faltered.

“Told you I knew you well,” he smiled, his words sending shivers down her spine, and while she was still trying to figure out whether to feel soothed or excited, he added, “Unfortunately, I need to prepare for my next patient now, but how about having coffee with me this evening, and then we can talk some more?”

Jenny’s heart was hammering so loudly in her chest, she was afraid the doctor might hear it. She’d really missed their coffee evenings, which, for some reason, had ended abruptly several weeks ago.

“I’d like that,” she finally managed to reply, taking a couple of steps back and hearing the sliding doors hiss open behind her. “Since I used to work with you, and you said yourself that you know me well, maybe you can even tell me something about myself that Christine and Nyota haven’t yet?”

“I just might,” McCoy nodded, his voice soft and warm, his sparkling eyes following Jenny as she practically danced out of his office.

-x-x-x-x-x-

Going to see McCoy had been a mistake, Chekov thought morosely, looking past the pretty ensign from engineering, who was making eyes at him, to where Hope and McCoy were sitting in a cosy corner of the observation deck, looking as in love as they always had. It was just like before Jenny’s coma, only that it hurt so much more today, because he’d really thought he was in with a chance. Jenny had definitely been behaving differently towards him these last few weeks.

But talking to the doctor about her had been a silly idea. All he’d done was probably just remind McCoy not to let Hope slip through his fingers. Only a few hours ago, the doctor had told him to be careful and take it slow, and now he was flirting with Hope himself. Why the two of them weren’t together in the first place, was beyond him. Watching them, it was perfectly clear that they wanted each other. And why would anyone in their right mind not want Jenny, when they could so obviously have her?

But maybe it was only really her who was in love with him? Maybe the doctor just needed his ego massaged? Or even worse, just wanted her flawless body in his bed? Chekov was appalled at the very idea, feeling outraged just looking at McCoy seductively smiling at Jenny.

Granted, he didn’t actually believe that taking advantage of a woman was something the doctor would do. But his divorce had made him bitter, and he’d definitely once or twice mentioned avoiding commitment ever since. Chekov had certainly never seen McCoy in a serious relationship. And come to think of it, he’d only ever seen the doctor charm and flirt with women on shore leave, or when they were guests on the Enterprise.

Oh! There’s a thought!

Maybe that was the reason? Maybe McCoy didn’t get involved with anyone from the crew? But then, why keep Hope from finding love with anyone else? Surely, even the doctor must see how affectionate and giving Hope was. And that she needed and deserved to be truly loved and treasured in return.

-x-x-x-x-x-

McCoy hadn’t felt that good in ages. Seeing Hope so relaxed, so cheerful again, was balm to his soul. He really shouldn’t have withdrawn from her. She’d told him all about her fears, and he felt extremely guilty for not having been there for her sooner. For letting his own hurt get in the way of supporting her when she’d so desperately needed him. He’d been so busy nursing his own heartache, that he’d completely ignored that Hope might have fears of her own, simply assuming she’d be all right, not knowing what she was missing, anyway.

But he wasn’t going to let that happen again. Seeing her worries dissolve and her confidence return as they talked, made his heart swell with love and happiness. They’d always been good at reassuring and comforting each other. Nothing seemed to have changed there. Hope still chose him to confide in, trusted him to help her fix things. The realisation sent a surge of humble gratitude through him, and he made a silent promise not to fail her again.

Over the course of the evening, McCoy told her endless stories about her time in sickbay and their missions, and Hope soaked up every word. He couldn’t tell her how every little thing she’d done had made him fall crazy in love with her, of course. Didn’t mention anything about shore leave, or the night she’d spent in his arms in a cave on a mission before that. But he could tell her all about the wonderful things she’d done, from taking care of children to saving people’s lives, and let her know that he admired her for all of that.

Perhaps he’d been wrong in his assessment not to interfere with her memories. Considering that she might never actually recover those two years, maybe it was okay to give her more than just the facts. Maybe telling her of his feelings about certain events, or even whether she’d liked or enjoyed something herself, was all right. And judging from the delight on her face and the eagerness with which she kept asking for ever more details, it certainly was.

Hope had always been endearingly sentimental and loved trips down memory lane. And from the way her eyes were gleaming now, he could tell that she was enjoying herself immensely, listening to him telling her stories about things she didn’t remember. Maybe this was their new way of reminiscing, at least until they’d made new, real memories together.

When they were almost the only ones left on the observation deck, McCoy gently suggested that it was time to go to bed, and the happy mood was a little subdued when they had to go their separate ways, each to their own quarters. McCoy didn’t even dare to ‘walk her home’, as he would have loved to do, for fear of being too obvious. And afraid of not being able to simply say good night outside her quarters, of losing control and doing something stupid like kiss her. Baby steps, he told himself.

They arranged another ‘date’ for the next day, however, the doctor asking her to come see him in sickbay after her shift, since he wanted to check, and maybe update her medical knowledge a little before the landing mission the day after. Hope readily agreed, and McCoy was almost certain to see her eyes light up at the prospect of spending another evening with him.

That night, for the first time since Hope had fallen into a coma, McCoy’s bed didn’t seem as cold as it had for the past few weeks. The memory of holding her only hours before sent the warmest feelings through him. He’d had to be careful not to crush her in his eagerness to be as close to her as he possibly could, and If she hadn’t pulled away, he might not have been able to let her go at all.

As he was drifting off to sleep, smiling at the image of Hope’s animated face in his mind, he couldn’t help but wonder, if she might, somehow, be thinking about him, too, right now.

                                                                                                                                                                  Chapter 40  

After a very restful night, full of sweet and tender dreams, Jenny started her shift with a happy smile on her face. After everything she’d learned about herself the evening before, she felt much more confident in her role as department head again. The doctor certainly knew how to boost someone’s confidence. She still couldn’t actually remember any of it, but McCoy had described things so vividly, and in such detail, she almost felt as if she’d actually been there. The way he’d talked about her and her experiences hadn’t felt like mere stories, but like something she would actually feel or do.

Obviously, he wasn’t exaggerating, when he told me that he knows me well, she thought fondly, the realisation making her feel all warm and fuzzy inside.

But last evening had turned out even better than she’d hoped for in more ways than one. McCoy might not have had hearts in his eyes, but he clearly cared for her and had put a lot of thought and research in how to help her since she’d woken up. And the tenderness in his smile and in his voice, when he’d shared his memories of her, the endless patience with which he’d answered all of her questions, had convinced her that she couldn’t have been the reason for his recurring mood swings, after all.

Her colleagues in the linguistic department seemed to sense her shift of mind, too. They’d been incredibly supportive from the day she’d returned to duty after her coma, but today, the atmosphere was buzzing with new energy, as they prepared for the upcoming landing mission.

She didn’t know about her people skills, for which McCoy had been praising her last night, but she’d certainly always loved to be and work with people. And the doctor had definitely been right, when he’d told her that she was greatly respected and appreciated by her colleagues.

The best thing about today, however, was that she’d get to spend the evening, or at least part of it, with McCoy again. On official business, of course, but she still couldn’t wait to see him again after her shift.

-x-x-x-x-x-

Entering sickbay only minutes after alpha-shift had ended, Jenny couldn’t keep the eager grin from her face, hoping the doctor wouldn’t attribute her enthusiasm to her desire to be around him, but rather to her looking forward to brushing up on her medical skills.

“The doctor’s already waiting for you in his office,” Christine greeted her with a nod towards the open door.

“Thanks, Christine!” Jenny replied, hurrying by, then stopped in her tracks, when she saw her friend’s knowing smile.

“What?” she laughed, raising a quizzical eyebrow at Chapel.

“Nothing,” Christine shook her head, “it’s just good to have things back to normal.”

When it became clear that the nurse wasn’t offering any further explanation, Jenny continued on her way, making a mental note to grill her friend about this some more later.

The doctor, it seemed, had indeed been waiting for her, since he’d already prepared a few medical instruments on his desk, and also put the training dummy, in what looked like a rather painful position, right in the middle of his office floor.

“Hello, Hope,” McCoy greeted her with an easy smile, then pointed towards the dummy and grinned, “and right on time, too. Can’t wait to get your hands on my poor friend here, can you?”

“He looks quite a mess,” Jenny giggled. “Whatever happened to the guy?”

“Well, that’s for you to find out, my dear,” the doctor chuckled. “I hope you can help him. Let’s see, if you’ve still got it!”

Jenny felt her heart beat faster. What was she supposed to do now? She briefly closed her eyes, unsure where to start. But then, looking back at the dummy, she just let her body take over, her brain following right after, as suddenly every move, every step of the procedure was coming back to her.

She could feel McCoy’s watchful eyes on her while she was working away, and it should have made her feel nervous. But, surprisingly, all it did was give her a warm, glowing feeling inside.

When she was done, the dummy safely recuperating on the doctor’s couch, Jenny looked expectantly at McCoy, and was rewarded with an appreciative nod and a thumbs-up.

“Your medical knowledge is definitely still there,” the doctor smiled. “What you did was way more than your standard first aid training would provide. I���m impressed.”

“Thank you!” Jenny beamed, unable to suppress a little victorious squeal, and raising her hand for a high-five. “I remember it all. That’s amazing!”

She was just about to drop her hand again, realising that it wasn’t really a 23rd century thing to do, when McCoy clapped his hand against hers with a wide grin on his face, the move seeming so natural, as if it were something he did every day.

I’ve quite obviously taught the crew some old traditions, Jenny thought amusedly.

“Come over here, now, Hope,” the doctor beckoned her over to his desk, “look at these instruments and tell me everything you know about them.”

It was easy. And to see her delight at finding all the knowledge still there mirrored in McCoy’s eyes, made her heart brim over with pride and joy.

“So, if this is still all there in my subconscious, then there’s still hope for my other memories, too, right?” Jenny raised hopeful eyes to McCoy’s.

“Well, yes! Considering that you remembered all the linguistic stuff, too, it sure is,” the doctor smiled encouragingly at her.

“Oh, the ‘linguistic stuff’ is not that surprising, really. I can rarely tell what information I’ve acquired during those last two years and what I’ve already known before, anyway. But this,” she waved her hand around the doctor’s office, “I really didn’t know anything about. Well, apart from the mere basics, of course.”

McCoy was beaming at her with such affection as she rambled on, overwhelmed by happiness, that Jenny wanted to throw herself into his arms right there and then.

“And if I remember all this, it’s still possible for me to regain my other memories as well, isn’t it?” she needed to check one more time.

“Yes, it is,” the doctor replied softly, and all of a sudden, Jenny didn’t know what to do with all the hopeful joy she was feeling.

How could she have known that her recovering all of her memories didn’t mean half as much to her as it did to him?

“Time for another hug?” McCoy suddenly asked, obviously sensing that her emotions were bubbling over.

This time she didn’t even wait for him to open his arms, and just flung herself at him, throwing her arms around his neck.

“Oh Doctor, I’m going to remember everything, I just know it!” she exclaimed, her voice muffled against his shirt, feeling his chuckles vibrating in his chest, as he closed his arms tightly around her waist.

“I’ve missed this,” McCoy laughed affectionately, clutching her to him, “this …  ebullience.”

Jenny pulled back again, releasing the doctor and grinning sheepishly. She couldn’t make a habit of falling into his arms and just staying there. But even this short hug had felt like a little piece of heaven.

“Sorry Doctor,” she apologised, taking two steps back and straightening out her uniform, “I didn’t mean to be so forward, but I’m just having such a good day.”

McCoy perched on the edge of his desk and crossed his arms in front of his chest, his smiling eyes never leaving her face.

“So you’ve had a good day today?” he grinned in this adorable way that lit up his whole face and made you wonder how he ever managed to look grumpy at all.

“A very good one,” Jenny confirmed. “Thanks to you.”

“Me?” he asked, taken aback. “What did I do?”

Jenny couldn’t help laughing at the genuine confusion on his face.

“Yes, you,” she repeated quietly. “You have no idea how much last evening meant to me. You’ve helped me so much, and I can’t thank you enough for taking the time to tell me all those little details about myself, for restoring my confidence in myself. I feel so much better now, and I’m sure my whole department does, too. Which is really a good thing, given that we’re going planetside tomorrow.”

McCoy just looked at her, his kind eyes searching her face, but for what, she had no idea.

Just as Jenny was starting to feel a little uncomfortable under his scrutiny, he finally asked, “Nervous about tomorrow?”

Jenny just shrugged. Of course, she was.

“No need to be,” he said softly, his voice low and soothing. “You’ll do great.”

“Was I nervous before my actual first assignment?”

“A little,” the doctor smiled, tilting his head to the side and gazing warmly at her.

“I’m glad you’re coming, too. I feel safer when you’re around,” Jenny murmured, immediately hating how immature and insecure she sounded, but McCoy’s gaze just softened even more.

“Happy to hear that,” he replied, “but you’d be perfectly fine on you own, too.”

“Says the man who’s constantly kept an eye on me since the moment I woke up,” she chuckled, her heart melting, as she thought about how he’d always managed to show up somewhere close by, even after one of his mood swings had had him run off in a hurry shortly before.

“That obvious, huh?” McCoy grinned self-consciously, shaking his head slightly.  

“Don’t worry,” Jenny said quickly, not wanting him to feel bad about caring. “It gives me security, I like it.”

Then she suddenly remembered him being a father.

“Have you always been looking out for me?” she asked, wishing she could just reach out and touch him. “I mean, even before?”

McCoy just tilted his head again, which she took as a yes.

“And did I not like it then?”

Jenny was curious now. Surely, she’d have appreciated someone trying to keep her safe?

“Maybe not all the time,” the doctor chuckled, looking at her almost lovingly. “You’re quite a strong and capable lady. But you know that, of course.”

Jenny smiled and shook her head. When had this conversation become so intimate? She suddenly felt as if she knew the doctor. Really knew him. They’d definitely been close before. That’s probably what Christine had meant earlier, it suddenly occurred to her.

McCoy really liked her, she could feel it. And come to think about it, he did sometimes act like an overprotective father. The only question was, had she seen him as a father-figure before? Or had she always had this silly crush on him? She might never know, she realised. And she could just as easily have been in love with Chekov or anyone else, and not remember it.

Blasted amnesia!

“Am I different than before?” she suddenly blurted.

McCoy looked at her pensively for a long time, a tender smile on his lips. He had this gift for making people feel special when he talked to them, for showing them they mattered. The way he listened so attentively, carefully thinking about his answers, completely focused on whoever he was talking to, as if there were no place he’d rather be. Jenny had observed this numerous times, both professionally in sickbay and privately in the mess or recreation room. And she certainly enjoyed it, whenever she was being the centre of his attention. Like now.

“Not really,” the doctor said after a while. “A little less confident, maybe, since some or your experience is missing. In a way, you’re more like the woman you were when you first came aboard the Enterprise. An endearing trace of shyness and insecurity underneath all that strength and sass. But other than that, you’re completely the same. Brave, kind and brilliant.”

Jenny’s heart was threatening to spill over at his words, his approval suddenly seeming the most important thing in the world.

“But you don’t have to worry, love,” he went on, her heart skipping a beat like it did every time he called her ‘love’, even though she knew he was very generous with terms of endearment when talking to patients. “Even if you don’t get all of the last two years back, and I still think there’s a great chance you will, you’ll soon grow to be the person, you were only a few weeks ago, again. And going on that mission tomorrow is a first step.”

While Jenny was still processing everything the doctor had just said, he glanced at the chronometer, then put a gentle hand to the small of her back and smilingly steered her towards the door.

“Speaking of which,” he grinned, as the doors slid shut behind them, “I think it’s time to grab something to eat and then go rest up for tomorrow!”

-x-x-x-x-x-

Continue to:     Chapters 41-45            Chapters 46-50                      Chapters 51-55                           Chapters 56-60                         Chapters 61-65                     Chapters 66-70              Chapter 71         

Go back to: Chapters 1-5 Chapters 6-10 Chapters 11-15   Chapters 16-20   Chapters 21-25 Chapters 26-30   Chapters 31-35   

Or read it on AO3: Another Life

************ Disclaimer: Nothing of or associated with Star Trek is mine – it all belongs to Paramount / ViacomCBS (or whoever else is currently holding the rights). This is a work of fanfiction, no infringement intended.

#Leonard McCoy #bones mccoy #mccoy x #deforest kelley #karl urban #leonard mccoy x ofc #bones x ofc #bones x #mccoy x oc #star trek #tos #aos #st: tos #st: aos #star trek fic #tos fic #aos fic #bones fic #mccoy fic #leonard mccoy fic #mccoy imagine #mccoy romance #leonard mccoy fanfic #fanfiction #another life by spacedancer #Dr. Jennifer Hope #leonard mccoy x Jennifer Hope #bones/ofc #bones/ #mccoy/ofc

[brookeap3]

Office Memos (Getting Caught)

A/N: Prompt #76 "We have to be quick” for @oqpromptparty. I really love how this turned out and I hope you all find it just as amusing. Set in the Post-its and Paperclips verse.

{ ffn } { ao3 }

“Good afternoon, lovely,” Robin chimes from the doorway, leaning against the jamb with his signature smirk adorning his face.

Glancing up from where she’s scribbling notes, sketching out and brainstorming ideas for a print ad campaign she’s working on, Regina smiles, pleased. But then, seeing Robin usually has that effect on her, and he’s always a welcome distraction late in the day when energy is waning.

“Hello,” she greets. “How can I help you today, Mr. Locksley?” Her tone is all flirtatious sass, egged on when Robin groans quietly and slips inside, discreetly shutting the door behind him. She knows what it does to him when she calls him that, particularly here, in the office. Gets them both all hot and bothered, and she shouldn’t tease him so, except, well, she needs some form of entertainment to power through the next hour and it’s so much fun to torment him.

Robin crosses the length of her office in a few long strides, coming to stand on the opposite side of her desk, leaning both palms on the wooden surface and ducking his head down so he’s hovering closer to her, breath ghosting across her lips, that pine scent drifting her way as he says, “As a matter of fact, I was hoping you could help with a consultation on something. Check your email, beautiful.”

Shifting her focus away from the stray thought that his stubble has grown out a bit more this week, making him look even sexier, she asks, “Is this for the Belfrey account?” They’ve been working together on that one for a month now, Gold no longer pitting them against each other when they work so much better with one another. Regina’s eyes flicker up to Robin’s clear blue ones, amusement twinkling in them as she chuckles and turns to her computer, clicking a few buttons to bring up her email.

Sure enough, there’s one from Robin. Sent ten minutes ago. A calendar request with nothing but a string of dots in the subject line followed by a few question marks. Side-eyeing him curiously, noting the mischievous grin as he watches her, Regina shakes her head and double clicks to open it. As she reads the body of the message, her initial reaction is pure and utter mirth, laughter bubbling out of her throat as she scans over the words again.

Fuck your fiancé

He’s scheduled them a quickie during working hours, set for precisely four o’clock. A quick glance down to the corner of her screen shows 4:03 on the clock, and she bites her lower lip and looks back to Robin.

Lifting one brow, Regina looks up at him with simultaneous interest and bemusement. “Really? Here? Now? Robin, it’s the middle of the afternoon.”

“So?” he counters, grinning widely and wickedly as he rounds the desk and reaches out a hand to pull Regina to her feet, until her body is flush against his. One hand lifts to run his fingers through her hair while the other traces patterns at the small of her back.

It’s not as if they’ve never taken a bit of personal time during the work day before, memories of several delicious soirées in the supply closet coming to mind. And he wants her, has been wound up all day thinking about her in this outfit. She knows what those tight pencil skirts and plunging necklines do to him. Watching her dress this morning, and just the glimpse he’d caught of her in the kitchen on his way into a meeting earlier, hadn’t been enough, and he’s been chained to his desk since.  

It’s a busy time for them both, working on major accounts, taking on new ones and they’ve done nothing more than collapse in the evenings after checking off the basics of dinner and bath time and reading until Roland conks out for the better part of a week now.

There’s been no time for just the two of them. He misses her. Being with her, and Robin doesn’t see why they shouldn’t indulge themselves a bit.

And he’s free now (for today at least), has just submitted the final draft of a campaign to Gold and is ready to celebrate in the best way he can think of. Plus, thanks to Ashley, he knows Regina’s nothing left on her calendar for the day, no meetings or appointments scheduled. There’s a bit of a thrill to the idea as well, taking her here, in her office, on her desk. Robin’s hand drops to skim along her hip now, thumb stroking as the other inches downward toward her ass, cupping it in his palm with a knowing little wiggle of his brows.

They shouldn’t. It’s entirely unprofessional. And she needs to get these sketches finished.

But, god, she wants him. Misses him just as much as he’s missed her. It’s been over a week since the last time they’ve had sex and while reasonably she knows that’s not all that long, it does nothing to dissipate the dull throbbing between her thighs at the mere idea.

“I want to take you on this desk, finger you until you’re wet and just on the edge and then make you cry out while you come around my cock,” he continues, licking his bottom lip distractingly. “What do you say, milady?” Robin questions, “You up for it?” giving her ass cheek a squeeze for good measure.

She hesitates another few seconds, considering. But, well, who can resist an offer like that?

Fuck. Why the hell not?

“Fine, but we have to be quick,” Regina orders, voice already breathless with anticipation and desire as she presses herself closer to him, tugging him backward by the tie around his neck as she sits down on the edge of her desk.

Robin doesn’t need to be told twice. He dives in for a frantic kiss, teeth dragging along her bottom lip as he groans against her mouth. Something he’s waited all day to be able to indulge in. His fingers make quick work of the top three buttons of her blouse while Regina deepens the kiss. Her nails scratch bluntly at the base of his neck, gripping onto the short hair there.

Then Robin pulls away, moving to suck hot, open-mouthed kisses to the underside of her ear, along her jawline and down to her neck where Regina’s pulse thuds beneath his lips. His tongue does a lovely swirl against her skin, in the hollow of her throat, and she can’t stop the low moan that escapes as she lets her head fall back in delight. “Mmmm, yes. Feels so good, babe.”

Thoroughly focused on his task, Robin smiles, stubble tickling her skin as the corners of his mouth tip up and he repeats the action one more time before he’s moving lower, licking over the swells of her breasts. She’s wearing a lacey bright red bra and the hint of it beneath her navy blouse is a tantalizing sight.

Her hands are busy as well, roaming the expanse of Robin’s back and shoulders, down along his biceps and up to his head to hold him in place. Her legs wrap around his waist, and the hard press of his erection to her center when she tightens them around him even more, one heel slipping off her foot to fall with a thunk to the floor, has that well of need demanding more. Greedy for every sensation he’s capable of creating inside her.

Regina’s fingers fumble for the buckle of Robin’s belt as he leans her further back on her desk, crushing papers and sending her pen rolling across the surface to slip over the edge. His mouth covers hers again, and Regina sweeps her tongue into his mouth, moaning softly as the taste of him fills her, one of his hands cupping her breast while the other edges the hem of her skirt a little higher.

One of his hands slips between her thighs, inching upward and upward toward where she’s already wet for him, where she needs his touch the most. Regina’s just managed to slide the zipper of his slacks down, knuckles brushing over the hard bulge of his cock through his boxer briefs when the distinctive click of her doorknob sounds.

“Hey, sister, what the hell is—” Leroy’s voice echoes through the room, coming to an abrupt halt when he catches sight of them laid out on her desk in such a compromising position.

Shit. They’d forgotten to lock the door.

“Jesus! My eyes!” he exclaims with a grunt, quickly covering them as a scowl covers his face and the two of them frantically try to right themselves, pulling zippers and shirts closed as Robin’s hand retreats from beneath her skirt. “Don’t you two have any damn dignity? How the fuck am I supposed to unsee that? Keep it in your pants till working hours are over for Christ sake.”

He slams her office door with a bang, muttering something about indecency under his breath, and Regina squeezes her eyes shut in mortification. “I’m never going to be able to look him in the eye ever again.” Robin merely chuckles, shoulders shaking as he tucks his face into her neck. “It’s not funny, Robin!” she scolds, smacking him on the shoulder.

“I’m sorry,” he tells her, lifting his head to meet her eyes, though he doesn’t look apologetic in the least, “but it’s a little funny.” Robin steps between her legs again, cupping her cheek in his palm and adding, “At least it wasn’t Gold. Or Mary.”

Oh god. Okay, alright, that would have been even more embarrassing, so, yes, it could have been worse, she supposes. She’ll take Leroy catching them over either of those options. “I guess you’re right,” Regina concedes, lifting a single brow when Robin’s hands begin to caress along her side again, over her thighs. “What are you doing?”

Robin’s thumb circles her hip bone, dipping his index finger between the band of her skirt and her blouse. It takes a minute before he answers, hands brushing lightly over her and stirring her senses up again, “I don’t believe we were finished, love.”

Regina’s jaw slackens as she stares at that damn adorable smirk on Robin’s face. “You can’t be serious.”

“I am quite serious,” Robin counters, dipping his mouth to kiss along her jaw up to her ear where he swirls his tongue over her lobe, sucking on it gently and making her shiver. “Despite the… interruption, I still want you. Just like this.” He draws back then, looking down at her and the adorable flush to her skin, the way her shirt gaps open still to reveal teasing glimpses of her lingerie.

Need tightens sharply in his belly.

She’s the picture of temptation. Seductive and desirable without even trying, and Robin finds her damn near irresistible, location and circumstances be damned. “You’re gorgeous,” he tells her reverently, adoringly, “And I love you,” as he moves in for a kiss to sway her.

How is it that this man can distract her so easily?

Regina hums into it, palm grasping at his cheek while heat slowly spreads through her limbs, heating her blood with renewed vigor. Clearly, she’s lost her mind because she’s actually considering it. Or maybe she’s just so needy, has missed feeling him like this so much she doesn’t care.

Her resolve wavers. Damn him. She’s still wet, still wants to feel him inside her, to be taken the way he’d promised her. When Robin nips at her collarbone in that way that she loves, Regina gasps and relents.

“Go lock the damn door this time.”

#brookeap3 writing #post-it's and paperclips #post-it verse #office memos #oq prompt party 2018 #oq prompt party #oq ff #outlaw queen #oq fan fiction #oq fan fics #outlaw queen fanfic #regina and robin #regina and robin hood #robin and regina #Regina Mills #robin hood #robin locksley

[samingtonwilson]

8 Fights You’ve Had - Jim Kirk

Summary: couples fight, some couples make up.

Warnings: language

A/N: anyway the great animal cracker debate of the twenty-third century is my favorite part of this

1

You stared at the door and waited the polite amount of time.

Well, the polite amount of time for you— which was just the thirty seconds after you’d finished knocking.

You entered the code you’d memorized months ago against the control pad you used to struggle with when your friendship with Jim was new, and the door slid open easily. With a sigh and a clearing of your throat, you entered the dim quarters and replicated a cup of coffee for yourself— after all, his replicator was the best one on board.

Piping pastel yellow mug in hand, you took long steps to his bed. “Wakey, wakey, sunshine! Lights at fifty-percent,” you added, laughing when Jim groaned loudly and pulled his plain white comforter over his head as the lighting increased.

You pulled gently on the few strands of blonde hair that managed to peek out from above the edge of the comforter. You then tugged on the covers a bit, exposing everything above his nose. Your fingers moved from his hair to his high cheekbone, sweeping your thumb across his skin only to move a little lower to pinch the fleshier part of his cheek with force.

He hissed loudly and slapped your hand away, sitting up immediately. He placed his hand against the flushed skin and grimaced at you. “What the hell? It’s a day off!”

You hummed, holding out the cup of coffee to him. “Your voice is sexy when you’ve just woken up. All that rasp, that depth.”

“My voice is always sexy,” he mumbled, taking the cup and smirking as he brought the mug to his lips. Once he swallowed and gave the coffee back, he sighed to lean back against his headboard. “You better have a good reason for waking me up on a day I planned to sleep through.”

You bit down on your bottom lip and pushed up the sleeves of the black t-shirt you wore. “I do. So Chekov and I spent the whole night researching this television series from, like, the early twenty-first century. It’s about these residents at this one hospital, and they all tend to sleep with one another more than work on patients, and it’s so absurd,” you laughed, rolling your eyes to yourself. “Pash and I spent the whole night watching episode, after episode, after episode and it’s strangely addictive and I’m weirdly invested—”

“Is that my shirt?”

You hummed questioningly, looking down at yourself. “Oh. Yeah, it is. Anyway, the doctors—”

“Do you not own any clothes of your own?” His eyebrows were together, his head tilted, his lips fallen into a frown. His volume had increased by the time he stated with a scoff of frustration, “You don’t even ask anymore.”

Your own eyebrows came together. “Jim, —”

“It’s not like we’re having sex, or dating, or something,” he continued, shaking his head. “You should ask.”

“Okay,” you said, your eyebrows now raised. “I’ll ask from now on. I’m sorry, I didn’t think— I won’t do it anymore.”

He sighed loudly. “No, I want you to wear my shirts,” he told you, his volume still just as high.

“Is your goal to confuse me?”

He sighed again. “I want you to wear them after you sleep here, after you spend the night with me. I want you to wake me up as annoyingly as you do and I want it every single morning. I want all of that. Do you—” he sighed heavily. “Starlight, do you not see it?”

“Well, don’t yell at me about it,” you replied softly. You waited a few seconds before setting the coffee down onto the floor and kneeling on the bed.

You shifted so you were knelt before him, moving your knees to be on either side of him so you could straddle his lap. You pressed your lips to his briefly tasting coffee on him and sighing at the feeling of finally in your veins.

As you broke the kiss and he leaned forward to follow your lips, you offered him a small smile and placed a hand on his chest, drumming your fingers against the thin t-shirt he wore. “Ask me out nicely, don’t fight with me about it, and I might say yes.”

2

You were drifting in and out of sleep for a while. The lights being at seventy-percent kept you from succumbing completely.

You didn’t call for them to dim, though. You didn’t make a sound. The action would have been too taxing. The volume you needed, the clear tone, the slowly enunciated words, it was all too much for your body to handle— especially after the ten hours in the medbay you spent patching up clumsy red shirts covered in steam burns.

You couldn’t bring yourself to eat, either. You’d gone through the day with a single apple and two large cups of coffee in your system, not finding time to eat anything else earlier and not finding the energy when you’d reached Jim’s quarters. You only collapsed upon the bed, sighing very heavily as you cuddled up against the far more plush mattress and much, much softer bedspread.

You heard the door slide open and wished you could sink into the bed further, maybe be swallowed by it whole as you heard Jim sigh loudly and throw his boots aside. Each sound rang in your ears and knocked around in your skull painfully.

He fell into the bed in a similar fashion to your collapsing two hours ago. But, instead of taking one of the spare pillows and snuggling it into his chest like you had, he wrapped his arm around your waist and pulled your back into his chest.

He hummed in contentment as he nuzzled his face into the crook of your neck and pressed his lips there.

You sighed out and felt your body relax as his warmth spread through the uniform you didn’t bother taking off. “Can you call for the lights to be at zero?”

Unbeknownst to Jim, it’d taken all of your energy to say that simple sentence and he asked, “Can’t you?”

“I’m too tired,” you grumbled into your pillow.

He snorted. “It’s just a few words, starlight.”

“It’s not about how many words it is— it’s the volume,” the frustration in your voice was evident, your eyes opened a little more now, stinging at the harsh light. “Just do it.”

“I’m tired, too.”

“Fine, Jim.”

Though his arm stayed around you and his lips stayed close enough to your skin that you could feel his frown, neither of you called for the lights to turn down. Somehow, the two of you managed to sleep through it and threw a few cranky words at one another about the dangers of pettiness when you awoke.

3

You sat in the well-cushioned chair in Leonard’s office, your feet atop his large desk and crossed at the ankle. You narrowed your eyes, widened them, and narrowed them again. You tilted your head— left, right, down. You took a breath.

“You’re being excessive.”

You clicked your tongue, still focusing with the sharpest of gazes rather than looking at him as he sat across from you in a far flimsier chair. “I’m giving this the attention it deserves.”

Jim reached over and sifted through the remaining cookies in the bright red and yellow carton, his eyes zeroing in on the lion printed in the upper left corner. He shook his head, he was sticking to his guns. He knew animal crackers better than the best of them. “It’s a horse.”

You glanced at him rather than the cookie held between your index finger and thumb, sighing at the determination in his wide, childish electric blue irises. “It’s a giraffe, Jim.”

He clicked his tongue. “It’s a horse.”

“Your IQ level might say you’re a genius but that doesn’t mean you’re always right.”

“Sorry, all I caught from that sentence was that I’m always right,” he said with a wide grin, reaching over to brush your feet from the desk. When your feet landed on the floor with the clunk of your boots, he sighed and sat back in his seat. “It’s a horse.”

You nodded sarcastically and frowned just as dryly. “Oh, really? It’s a horse? Then why is its neck so long?”

“It’s not that long!” he shouted, shaking his head again. “Barely above average.”

“Yeah? And you know the average length of necks when it comes to animal crackers?” you snorted. “It’s also a zoo-themed box. What kind of zoo has horses?”

“Don’t be close-minded on what animals zoos have.”

“Don’t be rude and call this giraffe a horse just because her neck is a little bit shorter— that’s probably offensive, or something.”

“Oh, is it?”

The two of you barely acknowledged Leonard as he stepped through the door, only really noticing him when he took the cookie from your hand and popped it into his mouth. As he promptly chewed and swallowed, he sat down and raised his dark eyebrows at your incredulous expressions. “What?”

“You ate the cookie!” Jim yelled, his jaw clenched. “We were trying to figure out what animal it was.”

“Well, I’d figured it out already— it’s a giraffe.” You paused for a moment. “I mean, it was a giraffe.”

“It was a fuckin’ cookie,” Leonard stated, his Southern drawl warm in the drafty medbay. His tan skin was creased from exhaustion, from outrage at your toddler-like behavior— but his hazel eyes were alive. You knew he secretly loved it. “It was supposed to be eaten ‘n I ate it. Y’all are sittin’ here, arguin’ like fools. Move on, you giant babies. It was a hippo.”

As if perfectly in-sync with one another, you and Jim shouted, “No, it wasn’t!”

4

You were pacing in front of the bed, your fingers in your hair so you could pull on the ends when the frustration hit you even harder. There was a sheet wrapped around your body, your fist gripping the fabric to hold it above your otherwise bare chest.

When you almost tripped over the cotton for the third time, you sighed and stood still. You stared at Jim with wide, angry eyes and a deep frown. “I mean, is this what we are now? A fucking cliché?”

He sat with the comforter pooled below his waist, his back against the headboard so you had to actively distract yourself from gawking at his naked torso for too long. “Starlight, —”

“Like, you’re hogging the covers now? You’re pulling them onto your side? You’re hogging them like some, like some—”

“Cliché?” he guessed. He was fighting a smile as he watched you start to pace again.

“God! Hogging the goddamn covers, finishing my fucking sentences! Didn’t you make me coffee this morning?” you asked, your voice loud and outraged. “Oh my God,” you halted your steps and your palm met your forehead. “You told me I looked beautiful after sex even though I probably looked like I was just run through a prehistoric car wash. Jim!”

“What?” he asked, a laugh laced throughout. “What are you even angry about here?”

“You took the covers like a fucking cliché, you blue-eyed monster!”

“So are you mad at me taking the covers or about me being a cliché?”

“Jim!”

“Or is it about me finishing your sentences, or bringing you coffee, or calling you beautiful after sex? Which you are, by the way-- all the time.”

You groaned loud enough to have it echo off the walls. “Stop asking questions. I need to leave— sleep in Nyota’s quarters, or something.”

He couldn’t stop his smile as you walked towards the door. “At least put some clothes on first. I know how you feel about someone else knowing about our sex life.”

“I fucking hate you,” you called out as you switched course to the closet.

He hummed out a sigh. “And I love you.”

5

You sat atop the biobed in Exam Room 1, swinging your legs as you watched Leonard and Jim exchange a few choice words. You were leant against the wall behind you, your hands folded in your lap so you could pinch the blue fabric of your uniform.

You switched upon whom you focused based on which one of them spoke. It was like watching a tennis match— at least until you decided to intervene. “Not to ruffle any command gold feathers here, but I agree with Len.”

Leonard motioned towards you and widened his eyes at Jim. “There you go.”

Jim, with an agape mouth and incredulous sigh, shook his head. “Starlight, you’re not serious.”

You traced the darkness underlining his eyes, the more sullen nature of his cheeks, the borderline transparency of his skin, and the slouching of his posture. “I’m completely serious, Jim. You look six seconds from death— you need to sleep.”

“I’m the captain, this is my ship,” he pointed out with great emphasis. “I can’t just take a day to sleep when there are crewmembers injured because I flew us through a highly magnetized nebula and zapped the gravity.”

“It’s been three days,” you stated, shaking your head. “We’ve got less than twelve crewmembers left in observation, and that’s just a formality at this point. Everyone’s okay now— except you.”

“No bones are broken, I’m okay.”

You looked at Leonard for help and when he sighed with a flare of his nostrils, you clicked your tongue. “Jim, you haven’t slept for longer than two hours in three days.”

“I’m worried, I have every right to be worried!” he argued, his voice shaking the walls of medical waste bin bolted to the wall. “It’s my ship!”

“For fuck’s sake, we know it’s your ship!” you yelled back. “You can have Spock take over for a day!”

“Or, better yet, you could have Sulu take over for a day,” Leonard added, catching your eye as you peered at him questioningly. “He’s got a real fire in him.”

“You can’t take my side?” Jim asked after a few moments, pulling your attention from your fellow doctor. “Just this once?”

“I’m always on your side. No matter what,” you sighed out. “And, because I’m on your side, I think you need to get some rest. Sleep is just as important as anything else— especially when you’re the captain.”

When he opened his mouth to speak, you clicked your tongue once more. You spoke more forcefully now, “No. Get to our quarters, change out of that godforsaken uniform, and sleep. Hell, hibernate if you have to, okay? Leave.”

Leonard snorted once Jim had left, his arms crossed over his chest so the blue of his shirt rumpled at his chest. “Sometimes I wonder why I didn’t just date you myself.”

“We’re not sexually attracted to each other and I happen to really like sex,” you shrugged.

6

You were avoiding him. You spent the day hauled up in your favorite exam room, only leaving to check on your lone patient. You didn’t dare venture to the mess hall, Leonard’s office, Scotty’s makeshift office, or anywhere else you could run into him.

Every time you saw or thought about him, images came flooding in. His hands on someone else, his lips on someone else, his eyes staring at someone else in the way he’d only reserved for you. It made something in your chest stutter, something in your blood boil. You wanted to break something.

You walked into your shared quarters cautiously so as to avoid his questioning gaze. You kept your eyes on the replicator, taking careful, counted steps towards it and immediately calling for a cup of coffee.

“Any special reason why I’m being iced out?”

You sighed and gritted your teeth at the sound of his voice. You didn’t reply.

“Did I do something?” he asked, nervous laughter in his words. “Because it sure seems like I’ve done something.”

You stayed silent, picking up the coffee and taking a very, very long sip. You didn’t care that it burned your tongue.

He laughed again, you could almost feel his voice shaking. He rose from the couch and made his way to where you stood. When he was close enough, he set his hand on your shoulder only to have you shrug him off.

He sighed. “Starlight, don’t freak me out like this.”

“It’s irrational.”

“That’s okay. Just tell me what it is. And look at me, maybe.”

You shook your head, keeping your eyes on your cup rather than meet the blue eyes you felt betrayed by. “I’m mad at you. You hurt me.”

“H-How? What’d I do?”

“How the hell could you look at someone else like that?” you asked, finally meeting his confused, but bright blue eyes. You couldn’t help your high volume. You thrust your mug into his hands. “I can’t believe you would kiss someone else, and touch someone else, and —”

“I didn’t do any of that!” he shouted back after several shocked moments of silence, watching you as you walked towards the bed. “I wouldn’t do anything like that to you!”

“Yeah, well, I had a dream that you did.”

He scoffed incredulously, his eyes wide and his mouth forming a scowl. “You’re mad at me over a dream?”

“I’m not mad at you! I just keep seeing it!”

“You’re yelling at me over something that isn’t real?”

You almost growled, unzipping your boots and tossing them aside. “I’m not yelling at you!”

“Then what do you call what you just did?”

“Passionate speaking!” you contradictorily yelled, reaching behind yourself to undo the zip of your uniform. 

You sighed after a beat of silence passed. “What if you get sick of me and it comes true? It’s bound to happen! We’ve been together for, like, two years now—”

“Year, ten months,” Jim corrected.

“See? I didn’t even know that!”

He chuckled and rolled his eyes. He reached for you and wrapped his arm around your waist. When your chest was pressed against his, he sighed out. His eyes seemed to shine even in the dim lighting. “I’m not going to get sick of you. I am sick of how much coffee you drink, but never sick of you. Okay?” 

You sighed and nodded.

“Good. Now, take your dress off.”

“What?”

He cocked an eyebrow. “Take your damn dress off and let me show you how not sick of you I am.”

7

Jim walked into his spacious shore leave quarters with a smile stretching his full lips. Having just come back from watching a football game with Leonard he truthfully didn’t give two shits about, he expected to be greeted with a smile and a kiss— not with the smell of melted cheese. But he wasn’t one to complain about that.

He entered the kitchen and inhaled deeply, standing beside you and bumping his hip against yours.

You clicked your tongue and pressed the back of the green spatula to the sandwich on the pan. You only sighed. You needed it to take less time.

He didn’t seem deterred by your resistance to his company. “What kind of cheese did you use?”

You shrugged a shoulder. “Whichever one was in the fridge.”

He could have sighed at your monotone voice. “Did you use butter on both sides? It turns out better if you use it on both—”

You gritted your teeth and slammed the spatula down, hearing the items in the drawer below clank and shift. You felt a burning in your eyes and a pinching in your throat. “Honestly, why don’t you just do it?”

He watched with his mouth agape as you pushed past him and slammed the door to the bedroom. He took a breath and turned a knob to switch the stove off. He removed the sandwich so it was set on a plate and placed the pan into the sink. Stray water droplets sizzled against the hot pan and he listened to it as he walked down a narrow hall to the bedroom, plate in hand.

He knocked on the door twice. Though you told him to go away, something about your voice made him open the door. His chest tightened at the sight of you sitting on the bed, your knees at your chest and your forehead placed atop them. He heard your shaky breath and sniffles, sitting before you with a deep breath. 

“I won’t push you,” he said as he tore the sandwich in half and took an audible bite of the crispy bread. “But,” his voice was thick with his full mouth, “you should eat this. It’s good.”

You shook your head. “I’m not hungry anymore.”

“Well, half is still yours.” His fingers encircled your ankles, he jostled them a little. “If you tell me who did this, I can kill them. I’m a captain of Starfleet, so I have access to weapons you wouldn’t even believe exist.”

You laughed despite yourself, placing your chin on your knees instead. “I’m sorry for snapping at you.”

Jim wiped the tears from your skin and tilted his head with a small smile. “Tell me who I’m killing.”

“I don’t need you going to prison for killing a family that basically disowns me each time they see me. S’not fair for me to lose you, too.”

He sighed and tucking your loose strands of hair behind your ear, his fingers lingering on your cheek. “I love you. You know that, right? More than anything.”

You nodded. Your eyes were unable to wave from the dilation of his pupils, the glassiness of his own eyes. “I really don’t deserve you.”

He frowned. “I think that’s a matter of opinion. Stop arguing and eat-- or I’ll finish it all myself.”

8

Knowing your tendency to forget numbers, Leonard thought it was remarkable you didn’t lose count. You knew it down to the hour.

You could hear the hissing of the door as it slid shut behind Jim, the groaning of the couch as he flipped three times, the deafening scrubbing of a toothbrush as you stood beside one another in a bathroom too small, taking turns spitting into a sink too shallow— it all replayed in your head, over and over. It replayed in your head like clockwork, alerting you that another hour had passed.

One hundred eighteen repetitions were too many repetitions, but you did nothing about it. You simply averted your gaze when he stepped through the medbay doors, simply occupied yourself with something so uninteresting in comparison to the ever-changing blue of his eyes, simply told yourself you could handle another repetition if it meant you’d be giving Jim the space he needed, giving him the space he deserved.

You’d apologized. You told him you wouldn’t do it again— you wouldn’t give yourself the chance to do it again. After all, arguing about burnt popcorn and not speaking for nearly five days felt excessive.

But there was something deeper there, you just knew it. It lied in the absurd and petty nature of this popcorn argument, it lied in the unnecessary nature of his sudden possessiveness, it lied in the near constant remarks he would pass each time you expressed uncertainty for your future. You just couldn’t see what it was.

However, you did take it too far this time. What started off as a simple argument about popcorn ended with your voice cracking as you yelled about his arrogance, about his confidence that really came from dumb luck. You told him his judgement was flawed and selfish, that he really just chased glory.

Obviously, you regretted the words as soon as you said them. You were frustrated, and had been for some time because of the uncertain cause of all your sudden fights, but that was no justification. You knew that.  

The walk to your quarters seemed to stretch on for eons. You avoided eye contact with any and all crewmembers that passed you, you even waved off a conversation with Uhura, who looked at you with nothing other than concern.

You cleared your throat as you entered the code you’d memorized years ago, watching the door slide open as if in slow motion. You threw your PADD aside the moment you stepped into the room, tossing your communicator in the same direction.

Jim glanced at you and paid you no other attention.

“Jim?” you called, your voice as small as you felt. “Have you— I’ve given you enough space, right?”

When he doesn’t reply, you across the room and kneel before the couch he was seated on. You took his hand and wiggled it around, finally catching sight of the blue eyes that grounded you even in space. “Because I’m really tired. And I want to talk to you. And I want to kiss you, and I want to know that we’re okay. It’s been five days.”

He kept his eyes on you but did nothing more.

You sighed. “I’m sorry about what I said. There’s no excuse for it. You do scare me sometimes when you do things I don’t understand, but I know you have your reasons. I don’t— I just don’t understand how this all blossomed from burnt popcorn. I don’t like fighting with you and I don’t know why we’re fighting so much.”

You set your other hand on his knee. You had to blink rapidly, uncertainty taking up your mindspace even when his pupils dilated in that special way that made your stomach flip. “Tell me what I should do. Whatever you want, we’ll do. I’ll try not to overreact again, I’ll move out, I’ll shut up. We just— Fuck, I just need my friend.”

He looked at you plainly, simply. He took a breath and nodded once. “Marry me.”

Sandpaper in your throat, you asked, “What?”

“Marry me.”

He took another breath, deep enough to reach every point of his lungs, before continuing, “I don’t want you to move out, or shut up, or change anything. I’ve been irritated at you for not reading my mind when I should’ve just told you what I want.”

His voice was almost as soft as his gaze, his touch just as gentle as he set his hand against your cheek and moved his thumb across your skin. The blue of his eyes was clear— clear than it’d been in a while. “I want commitments, I want rings. I want part of my future,” he clicked his tongue, “I want part of our future to be certain.”

You opened your mouth, but there was no sound. So Jim nodded upwards, giving you the smile that could make you agree to anything if he’d just asked. “Please marry me.”

#i hope this is as good as i think it is #and i don't even think it's that great i just hope it's not horrible #fun things #jim #jim kirk #jim kirk imagine #kirk imagine #kirk x reader #jim kirk x reader #star trek #star trek imagine #captain kirk #captain kirk imagine #captain kirk x reader #imagine kirk #imagine jim kirk #imagine getting a good night's sleep #peace out

[usnewsaggregator-blog]

More women accuse Matt Lauer of sexual misconduct after firing

New Post has been published on https://usnewsaggregator.com/more-women-accuse-matt-lauer-of-sexual-misconduct-after-firing/

More women accuse Matt Lauer of sexual misconduct after firing

Matt Lauer, a familiar face in morning news as the anchor of “Today” for two decades, was fired by NBC News on Wednesday after a female colleague made a detailed complaint accusing him of inappropriate sexual behavior during the 2014 Sochi Olympics.

The accusation also noted that the alleged behavior continued in the workplace after the games, NBC News confirmed.

Later on Wednesday, The New York Times reported that two more women had made complaints about Lauer after he was fired; NBC officials confirmed that two more accusers had come forward on Wednesday. And Variety published a more sweeping account of Lauer’s sexual misconduct with at least three women over several years.

“Today” co-anchors Savannah Guthrie and Hoda Kotb were emotional as they announced Lauer’s firing Wednesday, telling viewers at the top of the live broadcast that they were “heartbroken” over his departure but didn’t yet know all of the details.

In a memo to employees sent Wednesday morning, NBC News Chairman Andrew Lack said the complaint prompted a serious review and represented a “clear violation of our company’s standards.”

Lack said it was the first complaint lodged against Lauer, 59, for his behavior since he took over as anchor of the show in 1997, but there was “reason to believe” it may not have been an isolated incident.

“Our highest priority is to create a workplace environment where everyone feels safe and protected, and to ensure that any actions that run counter to our core values are met with consequences, no matter who the offender,” Lack said.

On Wednesday afternoon, a few hours after Lauer’s ouster was announced, Variety published an article that depicted Lauer as a serial harasser of women who worked on “Today,” preying on many of the female producers who worked for him. The accusers in the article were anonymous, and their accounts have not been confirmed by NBC News.

“He couldn’t sleep around town with celebrities or on the road with random people, because he’s Matt Lauer and he’s married,” a former producer told the magazine. “So he’d have to do it with his stable, where he exerted power, and he knew people wouldn’t ever complain.”

Variety said that during the course of a two-month investigation, it spoke with three women who claimed they were sexually harassed by Lauer and corroborated their stories with “dozens of interviews with current and former staffers.”

The staffers who spoke to Variety accused him of exposing himself to one woman, and then reprimanding her for not engaging in a sex act. He was also accused of giving another colleague a sex toy as a present along with “an explicit note about how he wanted to use it on her.”

The article said the women complained to management, but the complaints fell on deaf ears given the lucrative advertising surrounding “Today.”

A spokesperson for NBC forcefully denied that anyone who is now in management was made aware of these complaints.

“We can say unequivocally, that, prior to Monday night, current NBC News management was never made aware of any complaints about Matt Lauer’s conduct,” the spokesperson said.

The Times article said one of new complaints came from a former employee who in 2001 was summoned to Lauer’s office, where Lauer had sex with her. She told the newspaper that she felt helpless to stop the encounter because she did not want to lose her job, and did not report it because she was ashamed.

Related: Since Weinstein, here’s the list of men accused of sexual misconduct

Ari Wilkenfeld, who said he is the lawyer for the woman whose accusation against Lauer prompted his firing, said in a statement that he and his client met Monday evening for several hours with representatives from NBC’s Human Resources and Legal Department. He said she did not want to be identified.

“Our impression at this point is that NBC acted quickly, as all companies should, when confronted with credible allegations of sexual misconduct in the workplace,” Wilkenfeld said. “While I am encouraged by NBC’s response to date, I am in awe of the courage my client showed to be the first to raise a complaint and to do so without making any demands other than the company do the right thing.”

Guthrie, who joined Lauer at the anchor desk in 2012, said she was “heartbroken” for both him and the “brave colleague who came forward to tell her story and any other women who have their stories to tell.”

“I’m sure we will be learning more details in the hours and days to come. And we promise we will share that with you,” she said.

Kotb added that she has known Lauer as a friend and colleague for 15 years and “it’s hard to reconcile what we are hearing with the man who we know, who walks in this building every single day.”

Guthrie said it can be difficult to make sense of accusations of inappropriate sexual behavior against a longtime colleague.

“How do you reconcile your love for someone with the revelation that they have behaved badly, and I don’t know the answer to that,” she said. “But I do know that this reckoning, that so many organizations have been going through, is important, it’s long overdue and it must result in workplaces where all women — all people — feel safe and respected.”

Lauer’s departure comes in the wake of sexual misconduct complaints lodged in recent months against high-profile men working in entertainment, politics and media.

Last week, talk show host and journalist Charlie Rose was fired by CBS News, PBS and Bloomberg after eight women accused him of past sexual harassment and unwanted advances in a report in The Washington Post.

Rose, who co-hosted “CBS This Morning,” released a statement apologizing for his behavior while maintaining that some of the allegations were inaccurate.

Lauer did not immediately respond publicly to the announcement of his firing.

The married father of three began his journalism career in television markets throughout the country before returning to his native New York and eventually working for the local NBC station WNBC as a co-anchor of the morning news program.

In 1992, he began filling in on “Today” and was promoted as a news anchor two years later before taking over for Bryant Gumbel in 1997. Paired with co-anchor Katie Couric, Lauer became a marquee name with the network, and helped “Today” remain a ratings powerhouse with countless interviews of world leaders and celebrities and the coverage of presidential campaigns and Olympic Games.

Before teaming up with Guthrie, Lauer also shared his “Today” co-anchor duties with Meredith Vieira and Ann Curry, who tearfully exited the show in 2012. The New York Times reported that Curry felt humiliated by a “boy’s club atmosphere” at the show, and believed Lauer was indifferent to her concerns.

Variety reported last year that his contract with NBC was extended through 2018 for $20 million a year — keeping him one of the highest-paid anchors in the industry.

Early Wednesday, President Donald Trump noted Lauer’s firing on Twitter, writing, “Wow, Matt Lauer was just fired from NBC for ‘inappropriate sexual behavior in the workplace.’ But when will the top executives at NBC & Comcast be fired for putting out so much Fake News.”

Lauer’s firing comes after NBC News also ended the employment of its senior vice president for booking, Matt Zimmerman, after learning about “inappropriate conduct” with more than one woman at NBC Universal, the parent company of NBC.

NBC News also cut ties with senior political analyst Mark Halperin after multiple reports surfaced that he sexually harassed at least a dozen women while serving as political director for ABC News. Halperin apologized on Twitter for his behavior.

Original Article:

Click here

[viralhottopics]

How Trump’s Election Woke Women Everywhere

He hugged her every day.

He was the chief executive of the company, a large health care outfit in New Jersey. Married. Decades older. She was his executive assistant.

He seemed committed to those hugs, making a point to walk around her L-shaped desk every day to get his. If they skipped a day, next time hed say, I didnt get my hug and make a grab for it. He sent her flirty text messages. One day when Susan was sitting at her desk, he messaged her from his office next door. You look pretty in that dress.

I felt uncomfortable that whole day, Susan told The Huffington Post recently. Susan rarely wore the dress again, fearing hed mistake it as her trying to please him. She was creeped out. I didnt feel safe. It felt like he was grooming her, Susan says now.

Still, it was those daily hugs that felt the worst; a personal affront, as though her boss felt he had the right to just pull her body close to his. He had this air of arrogance.

Talking to human resources wasnt an option. The CEO was chummy with the guy who ran the department. The plan was to find another job and quietly move on. Then last Thanksgiving, she reached her breaking point.

Susan, who asked that we not use her name or reveal her place of employment while her lawyers work out her claims against her now-former boss and company, is one of many women who are feeling more confident about speaking up about sexual harassment, discrimination and assault in the workplace.

High-profile cases have raised awareness, including all those Bill Cosby accusers who came forward in 2015 and the implosion at Fox News kicked off by anchor Gretchen Carlson in July.

And in October, after a recording revealed boastful remarks Donald Trump had made in 2005 about assaulting women, more than a dozen women came forward with personalstories about how he had mistreated them. But despite those claims, Trump won the presidential election, and the message his victory sent sexual harassment allegations dont hurt men couldve been utterly chilling to the many women who face discrimination and harassment at work.

Instead,the stream of stories about sexual abuse and harassment has hardly subsided. In the past few weeks, Susan Fowler, a former Uber engineer, published a blog post about how she was mistreated by her employer, launching an image crisis for the ride-hailing giant.

Nicholas Hunt via Getty Images

After Gretchen Carlson, left, sued her boss Roger Ailes, she opened the door for other women at Fox News to reveal their experiences. Ailes later resigned.

Theres the Tesla employee who filed suit against the electric car maker last yearand just recently starting speaking openly about her experiences to the press.

And there are the thousands of women who worked for the mall jewelry stores Jared and Kay who are now starting to open up about the harassment they suffered.

Sexual harassment claims filed with the Equal Employment Opportunity Commission have risen since 2014, but data since the Nov. 8 presidential election is not yet available. Still,Nancy Erika Smith, the lawyer who represented Carlson in her harassment case against former Fox News Chairman Roger Ailes, says more women have been coming to her with sexual harassment cases since November.

Maybe [the election] has gotten a lot more people awakened, or woke, as they say, Smith says. That might be something that cant be stopped.

David McNew via Getty Images

Summer Zervos announces her lawsuit against then President-elect Donald Trump in January. The former “Apprentice” contestant accused him of sexually inappropriate conduct and defamation.

Instead of intimidating women, the election of a sexual harasser as president seems to have had an empowering effect for many women who had stayed quiet about being harassed and discriminated against at work.

It was a teaching moment, said Kathleen Peratis, a partner at Outten and Golden law firm who has handled hundreds of harassment cases. She compared Trumps election to the 1991 confirmation of Supreme Court Justice Clarence Thomas despite former colleague Anita Hills accusations of sexual harassment. The controversyultimately led to more women running for office and is widely recognized as a turning point in the battle against sexual harassment.

Since then, the culture has changed, Peratis noted. Todays younger generation is more likely to take harassment claims seriously. In the Fox case, that meant James and Lachlan Murdoch,who head 21st Century Fox, actually launched an investigation into Ailes behavior instead of sweeping it under the rug, as their 85-year-old father, Rupert Murdoch, might have done.

Peratis also made a key point that is at play right now: Theres safety in numbers. In her practice, shes found that the more women who come forward at a single company, the more successful their claims will be and the more likely it will be that they are believed. Thats what happened at Fox. Carlsons suit helped enable other women to come forward with their stories.

Maybe [the election] has gotten a lot more people awakened, or woke, as they say. That might be something that cant be stopped. lawyer Nancy Erika Smith

But this strength-in-numbers thing also seems to help women in other organizations, too. When women see others publicly standing up and speaking out, they feel more empowered to act even if theyre the only ones at their company brave enough to speak.

The media have become better about elevating those voices. When Smith and Peratis were starting out decades ago, business and politics reporters were overwhelmingly male. As more women have become journalists, more attention is being paid to cases like these, and they are covered with a heightened sensitivity. Many of us have been there in one way or another.

Youd likely hear about even more harassment cases if companies hadnt gotten so adept at keeping claims quiet, through methods such as closed-door arbitration. Sophisticated HR departments are also better about education and training, Peratis said, so claims dont escalate.

Ultimately, though, there is no simple answer for why more women appear to be coming forward. The decision about whether to speak up is particular and personal. And the pressure to stay quiet is overwhelming. Its part of the air women breathe: He didnt mean anything. Hes just being friendly. Its something I did. I just need to be less friendly, dress differently, act professionally.

Though the culture has warmed to the idea that sexual discrimination is real, theres still a lot of pressure on women to just live with it. Susans mother and sister suggested she try to apologize to her boss for not hugging him. Whats wrong with a little embrace, her mom wondered.

Peratis said that the instinct to disbelieve women who come forward can be strong. Theres practically a genetic predisposition to disbelieve claims having to do with sex, she said, adding that until the 1970s you couldnt bring a rape case to court if the only witness was a woman.

The one thing that seems to unite these women is a clear sense of right and wrong. A strong belief in justice. Fowler writes in her blog that the way she was treated at Uber was bizarre. Another way of putting it: The treatment wasnt right.

Until somebody stands up, nothing is going to change. AJ Vandermeyden, Tesla employee

Until somebody stands up, nothing is going to change, AJVandermeyden, the woman who is suing Tesla, told The Guardianin a recent interview. Im an advocate of Tesla. I really do believe they are doing great things. That said, I cant turn a blind eye if theres something fundamentally wrong going on.

Susan told HuffPost over and over that she felt like what happened to her wasnt right. She finally stood up for herself just a few weeks after the presidential election, after six months on the job.

Over Thanksgiving, her boss texted her while she was home for the holiday. Was she making the meal for her family? When Susan said no, her mother was preparing Thanksgiving dinner, he typed, Good. Youre too cute to cook. He then added how grateful he was that she worked for him. Thank you for all you do, he wrote.

The presumptuousness of his texts infuriated her. She couldnt take it anymore. When she returned to work on Friday, Susan couldnt bring herself to hug him.

I knew there would be consequences, she says. I dont have to hug a man every day to come to work. This is not a job requirement.

Apparently, for her boss it was. When he didnt get his hug, the CEO locked eyes with Susan, she says. It was only for about 30 seconds, but it felt longer. His whole demeanor changed. I knew something was coming. It was like how you feel when you disappoint [a parent] or you break a rule and you know a consequence is coming.

Seven days later, Susan was fired. The human resources department said it had found her interpersonal skills to be lacking. Coming with no warning about her performance and just days after her boss had thanked her for her good work, Susan knew this was about the hugs.

She packed up and left, and, before she drove out of the parking lot, she sat in her car and stewed. I knew it wasnt right.

She found a lawyer who is working on settling Susans case with her former employer and believes theres a chance the CEO may be fired, her lawyer told HuffPost.

Sometimes people do get justice, Susan said.

Read more: http://huff.to/2m4Wtzo

from How Trump’s Election Woke Women Everywhere

#How Trump’s Election Woke Women Everywhere

[mavwrekmarketing]

He hugged her every day.

He was the chief executive of the company, a large health care outfit in New Jersey. Married. Decades older. She was his executive assistant.

He seemed committed to those hugs, making a point to walk around her L-shaped desk every day to get his. If they skipped a day, next time hed say, I didnt get my hug and make a grab for it. He sent her flirty text messages. One day when Susan was sitting at her desk, he messaged her from his office next door. You look pretty in that dress.

I felt uncomfortable that whole day, Susan told The Huffington Post recently. Susan rarely wore the dress again, fearing hed mistake it as her trying to please him. She was creeped out. I didnt feel safe. It felt like he was grooming her, Susan says now.

Still, it was those daily hugs that felt the worst; a personal affront, as though her boss felt he had the right to just pull her body close to his. He had this air of arrogance.

Talking to human resources wasnt an option. The CEO was chummy with the guy who ran the department. The plan was to find another job and quietly move on. Then last Thanksgiving, she reached her breaking point.

Susan, who asked that we not use her name or reveal her place of employment while her lawyers work out her claims against her now-former boss and company, is one of many women who are feeling more confident about speaking up about sexual harassment, discrimination and assault in the workplace.

High-profile cases have raised awareness, including all those Bill Cosby accusers who came forward in 2015 and the implosion at Fox News kicked off by anchor Gretchen Carlson in July.

And in October, after a recording revealed boastful remarks Donald Trump had made in 2005 about assaulting women, more than a dozen women came forward with personalstories about how he had mistreated them. But despite those claims, Trump won the presidential election, and the message his victory sent sexual harassment allegations dont hurt men couldve been utterly chilling to the many women who face discrimination and harassment at work.

Instead,the stream of stories about sexual abuse and harassment has hardly subsided. In the past few weeks, Susan Fowler, a former Uber engineer, published a blog post about how she was mistreated by her employer, launching an image crisis for the ride-hailing giant.

Nicholas Hunt via Getty Images

After Gretchen Carlson, left, sued her boss Roger Ailes, she opened the door for other women at Fox News to reveal their experiences. Ailes later resigned.

Theres the Tesla employee who filed suit against the electric car maker last yearand just recently starting speaking openly about her experiences to the press.

And there are the thousands of women who worked for the mall jewelry stores Jared and Kay who are now starting to open up about the harassment they suffered.

Sexual harassment claims filed with the Equal Employment Opportunity Commission have risen since 2014, but data since the Nov. 8 presidential election is not yet available. Still,Nancy Erika Smith, the lawyer who represented Carlson in her harassment case against former Fox News Chairman Roger Ailes, says more women have been coming to her with sexual harassment cases since November.

Maybe [the election] has gotten a lot more people awakened, or woke, as they say, Smith says. That might be something that cant be stopped.

David McNew via Getty Images

Summer Zervos announces her lawsuit against then President-elect Donald Trump in January. The former “Apprentice” contestant accused him of sexually inappropriate conduct and defamation.

Instead of intimidating women, the election of a sexual harasser as president seems to have had an empowering effect for many women who had stayed quiet about being harassed and discriminated against at work.

It was a teaching moment, said Kathleen Peratis, a partner at Outten and Golden law firm who has handled hundreds of harassment cases. She compared Trumps election to the 1991 confirmation of Supreme Court Justice Clarence Thomas despite former colleague Anita Hills accusations of sexual harassment. The controversyultimately led to more women running for office and is widely recognized as a turning point in the battle against sexual harassment.

Since then, the culture has changed, Peratis noted. Todays younger generation is more likely to take harassment claims seriously. In the Fox case, that meant James and Lachlan Murdoch,who head 21st Century Fox, actually launched an investigation into Ailes behavior instead of sweeping it under the rug, as their 85-year-old father, Rupert Murdoch, might have done.

Peratis also made a key point that is at play right now: Theres safety in numbers. In her practice, shes found that the more women who come forward at a single company, the more successful their claims will be and the more likely it will be that they are believed. Thats what happened at Fox. Carlsons suit helped enable other women to come forward with their stories.

Maybe [the election] has gotten a lot more people awakened, or woke, as they say. That might be something that cant be stopped. lawyer Nancy Erika Smith

But this strength-in-numbers thing also seems to help women in other organizations, too. When women see others publicly standing up and speaking out, they feel more empowered to act even if theyre the only ones at their company brave enough to speak.

The media have become better about elevating those voices. When Smith and Peratis were starting out decades ago, business and politics reporters were overwhelmingly male. As more women have become journalists, more attention is being paid to cases like these, and they are covered with a heightened sensitivity. Many of us have been there in one way or another.

Youd likely hear about even more harassment cases if companies hadnt gotten so adept at keeping claims quiet, through methods such as closed-door arbitration. Sophisticated HR departments are also better about education and training, Peratis said, so claims dont escalate.

Ultimately, though, there is no simple answer for why more women appear to be coming forward. The decision about whether to speak up is particular and personal. And the pressure to stay quiet is overwhelming. Its part of the air women breathe: He didnt mean anything. Hes just being friendly. Its something I did. I just need to be less friendly, dress differently, act professionally.

Though the culture has warmed to the idea that sexual discrimination is real, theres still a lot of pressure on women to just live with it. Susans mother and sister suggested she try to apologize to her boss for not hugging him. Whats wrong with a little embrace, her mom wondered.

Peratis said that the instinct to disbelieve women who come forward can be strong. Theres practically a genetic predisposition to disbelieve claims having to do with sex, she said, adding that until the 1970s you couldnt bring a rape case to court if the only witness was a woman.

The one thing that seems to unite these women is a clear sense of right and wrong. A strong belief in justice. Fowler writes in her blog that the way she was treated at Uber was bizarre. Another way of putting it: The treatment wasnt right.

Until somebody stands up, nothing is going to change. AJ Vandermeyden, Tesla employee

Until somebody stands up, nothing is going to change, AJVandermeyden, the woman who is suing Tesla, told The Guardianin a recent interview. Im an advocate of Tesla. I really do believe they are doing great things. That said, I cant turn a blind eye if theres something fundamentally wrong going on.

Susan told HuffPost over and over that she felt like what happened to her wasnt right. She finally stood up for herself just a few weeks after the presidential election, after six months on the job.

Over Thanksgiving, her boss texted her while she was home for the holiday. Was she making the meal for her family? When Susan said no, her mother was preparing Thanksgiving dinner, he typed, Good. Youre too cute to cook. He then added how grateful he was that she worked for him. Thank you for all you do, he wrote.

The presumptuousness of his texts infuriated her. She couldnt take it anymore. When she returned to work on Friday, Susan couldnt bring herself to hug him.

I knew there would be consequences, she says. I dont have to hug a man every day to come to work. This is not a job requirement.

Apparently, for her boss it was. When he didnt get his hug, the CEO locked eyes with Susan, she says. It was only for about 30 seconds, but it felt longer. His whole demeanor changed. I knew something was coming. It was like how you feel when you disappoint [a parent] or you break a rule and you know a consequence is coming.

Seven days later, Susan was fired. The human resources department said it had found her interpersonal skills to be lacking. Coming with no warning about her performance and just days after her boss had thanked her for her good work, Susan knew this was about the hugs.

She packed up and left, and, before she drove out of the parking lot, she sat in her car and stewed. I knew it wasnt right.

She found a lawyer who is working on settling Susans case with her former employer and believes theres a chance the CEO may be fired, her lawyer told HuffPost.

Sometimes people do get justice, Susan said.

Read more: http://ift.tt/2m5Knqw

 The post How Trump’s Election Woke Women Everywhere appeared first on MavWrek Marketing by Jason

http://ift.tt/2mFgeSe

#IFTTT #WordPress

[edgysocial]

New Post has been published on http://edgysocial.com/what-happened-when-1-woman-finally-refused-to-hug-her-boss/

What Happened When 1 Woman Finally Refused To Hug Her Boss

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He hugged her every day.

He was the chief executive of the company, a large health care outfit in New Jersey. Married. Decades older. She was his executive assistant.

He seemed committed to those hugs, making a point to walk around her L-shaped desk every day to get his. If they skipped a day, next time he’d say, “I didn’t get my hug” and make a grab for it. He sent her “flirty” text messages. One day when Susan was sitting at her desk, he messaged her from his office next door. “You look pretty in that dress.”

“I felt uncomfortable that whole day,” Susan told The Huffington Post recently. Susan rarely wore the dress again, fearing he’d mistake it as her trying to please him. She was creeped out. “I didn’t feel safe.” It felt like he was grooming her, Susan says now.

Still, it was those daily hugs that felt the worst; a personal affront, as though her boss felt he had the right to just pull her body close to his. “He had this air of arrogance.”

Talking to human resources wasn’t an option. The CEO was chummy with the guy who ran the department. The plan was to find another job and quietly move on. Then last Thanksgiving, she reached her breaking point.

Susan, who asked that we not use her name or reveal her place of employment while her lawyers work out her claims against her now-former boss and company, is one of many women who are feeling more confident about speaking up about sexual harassment, discrimination and assault in the workplace.

High-profile cases have raised awareness, including all those Bill Cosby accusers who came forward in 2015 and the implosion at Fox News kicked off by anchor Gretchen Carlson in July.

And in October, after a recording revealed boastful remarks Donald Trump had made in 2005 about assaulting women, more than a dozen women came forward with personal stories about how he had mistreated them. But despite those claims, Trump won the presidential election, and the message his victory sent ― sexual harassment allegations don’t hurt men ― could’ve been utterly chilling to the many women who face discrimination and harassment at work.

Instead, the stream of stories about sexual abuse and harassment has hardly subsided. In the past few weeks, Susan Fowler, a former Uber engineer, published a blog post about how she was mistreated by her employer, launching an image crisis for the ride-hailing giant.

There’s the Tesla employee who filed suit against the electric car maker last year and just recently starting speaking openly about her experiences to the press.

And there are the thousands of women who worked for the mall jewelry stores Jared and Kay who are now starting to open up about the harassment they suffered.

Sexual harassment claims filed with the Equal Employment Opportunity Commission have risen since 2014, but data since the Nov. 8 presidential election is not yet available. Still, Nancy Erika Smith, the lawyer who represented Carlson in her harassment case against former Fox News Chairman Roger Ailes, says more women have been coming to her with sexual harassment cases since November.

“Maybe [the election] has gotten a lot more people awakened, or woke, as they say,” Smith says. “That might be something that can’t be stopped.” 

Instead of intimidating women, the election of a sexual harasser as president seems to have had an empowering effect for many women who had stayed quiet about being harassed and discriminated against at work.

“It was a teaching moment,” said Kathleen Peratis, a partner at Outten and Golden law firm who has handled hundreds of harassment cases. She compared Trump’s election to the 1991 confirmation of Supreme Court Justice Clarence Thomas despite former colleague Anita Hill’s accusations of sexual harassment. The controversy ultimately led to more women running for office and is widely recognized as a turning point in the battle against sexual harassment.

Since then, the culture has changed, Peratis noted. Today’s younger generation is more likely to take harassment claims seriously. In the Fox case, that meant James and Lachlan Murdoch, who head 21st Century Fox, actually launched an investigation into Ailes’ behavior ― instead of sweeping it under the rug, as their 85-year-old father, Rupert Murdoch, might have done.

Peratis also made a key point that is at play right now: There’s safety in numbers. In her practice, she’s found that the more women who come forward at a single company, the more successful their claims will be ― and the more likely it will be that they are believed. That’s what happened at Fox. Carlson’s suit helped enable other women to come forward with their stories.

Maybe [the election] has gotten a lot more people awakened, or woke, as they say. That might be something that can’t be stopped. lawyer Nancy Erika Smith

But this strength-in-numbers thing also seems to help women in other organizations, too. When women see others publicly standing up and speaking out, they feel more empowered to act ― even if they’re the only ones at their company brave enough to speak.

The media have become better about elevating those voices. When Smith and Peratis were starting out decades ago, business and politics reporters were overwhelmingly male. As more women have become journalists, more attention is being paid to cases like these, and they are covered with a heightened sensitivity. Many of us have been there in one way or another.

You’d likely hear about even more harassment cases if companies hadn’t gotten so adept at keeping claims quiet, through methods such as closed-door arbitration. Sophisticated HR departments are also better about education and training, Peratis said, so claims don’t escalate.

Ultimately, though, there is no simple answer for why more women appear to be coming forward. The decision about whether to speak up is particular and personal. And the pressure to stay quiet is overwhelming. It’s part of the air women breathe: He didn’t mean anything. He’s just being friendly. It’s something I did. I just need to be less friendly, dress differently, act professionally. 

Though the culture has warmed to the idea that sexual discrimination is real, there’s still a lot of pressure on women to just live with it. Susan’s mother and sister suggested she try to apologize to her boss for not hugging him. What’s wrong with a little embrace, her mom wondered.

Peratis said that the instinct to disbelieve women who come forward can be strong. “There’s practically a genetic predisposition to disbelieve claims having to do with sex,” she said, adding that until the 1970s you couldn’t bring a rape case to court if the only witness was a woman.

The one thing that seems to unite these women is a clear sense of right and wrong. A strong belief in justice. Fowler writes in her blog that the way she was treated at Uber was “bizarre.” Another way of putting it: The treatment wasn’t right. 

Until somebody stands up, nothing is going to change. AJ Vandermeyden, Tesla employee

“Until somebody stands up, nothing is going to change,” AJ Vandermeyden, the woman who is suing Tesla, told The Guardian in a recent interview. “I’m an advocate of Tesla. I really do believe they are doing great things. That said, I can’t turn a blind eye if there’s something fundamentally wrong going on.”

Susan told HuffPost over and over that she felt like what happened to her wasn’t right. She finally stood up for herself just a few weeks after the presidential election, after six months on the job.

Over Thanksgiving, her boss texted her while she was home for the holiday. Was she making the meal for her family? When Susan said no, her mother was preparing Thanksgiving dinner, he typed, “Good. You’re too cute to cook.” He then added how grateful he was that she worked for him. “Thank you for all you do,” he wrote.

The presumptuousness of his texts infuriated her. She couldn’t take it anymore. When she returned to work on Friday, Susan couldn’t bring herself to hug him.

“I knew there would be consequences,” she says. “I don’t have to hug a man every day to come to work. This is not a job requirement.”

Apparently, for her boss it was. When he didn’t get his hug, the CEO locked eyes with Susan, she says. It was only for about 30 seconds, but it felt longer. “His whole demeanor changed. I knew something was coming. It was like how you feel when you disappoint [a parent] or you break a rule and you know a consequence is coming.”

Seven days later, Susan was fired. The human resources department said it had found her interpersonal skills to be lacking. Coming with no warning about her performance and just days after her boss had thanked her for her good work, Susan knew this was about the hugs.

She packed up and left, and, before she drove out of the parking lot, she sat in her car and stewed. “I knew it wasn’t right.”

She found a lawyer who is working on settling Susan’s case with her former employer and believes there’s a chance the CEO may be fired, her lawyer told HuffPost.

“Sometimes people do get justice,” Susan said.

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