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Aug. 22nd, 2010

Frowny Jocelyn

(no subject)

Title: And this is how it hurts
Author: FeeferJ
Fandom: Star Trek XI
Characters: McCoy, Jocelyn, mentions of Joanna and Clay Treadway
Disclaimer: They aren't mine and I'm broke. This is just for fun and no profit is being made. Please don't sue.
Rating: PG-13
Summary: How can you save the person you love if they won't save themselves?

She’d watched him drink himself into a stupor every night for a month after his father had died and she’d done her best to be there for him. She’d understood how difficult this was for him and her heart broke for her husband. Things would get better though. He’d find the strength to pull himself through this for her and Joanna, and they’d go on doing their best to put him back together. Time healed all wounds.

Only one month turned into two. And two to four. He was a functioning alcoholic if only just and it took every ounce of strength she had to make sure that the three of them were taken care of and that Jo didn’t see what her father had turned into. She refused to let Joanna be exposed to that, struggled to make sure the little girl was happy and distracted. Leonard distracted himself enough with the bottle.

Everyone had a breaking point, and six months into her husband’s drinking binge, she’d found hers. It was hard to reconcile the man she faced daily with the man she’d married, the man she’d given a child to, and the man she’d loved so much. The man she saw now did nothing but drain her, sap her of whatever strength she had like some kind of leech, and yet she still loved him. She couldn’t afford that. It was a weakness and he’d destroy them both if she allowed those feelings to remain.

The paperwork was the first thing to be drawn up. She needed to strike quickly and efficiently lest she change her mind, but it didn’t stop her from drowning her own sorrows at a bar later that evening. Her attorneys were working to follow her instructions to the letter and there was Clay Treadway. She was miserable and lonely, no longer mourning the death of her father in law, but of her marriage and the man she’d married. Leonard wasn’t that man anymore and that killed her more than anything. Clay flirted and paid attention to her, took her out on the floor to dance and started making the first of many promises he’d never keep. But for that moment in time he made her forget.

She cried after he fucked her but she left that out when she told Leonard.

Once it was all said and done, two months after he’d left and she’d done her solid best to erase every single part of him save for their little girl from her life, she opened the first of the letters he’d sent. In it he begged for forgiveness, made promises of being better, but she wouldn’t let herself believe.

She should have known he’d be the one to keep them.
Frowny Jocelyn

(no subject)

Title: The Lies We Tell Ourselves
Author: FeeferJ
Fandom: Star Trek XI
Characters: McCoy, Jocelyn
Disclaimer: They aren't mine and I'm broke. This is just for fun and no profit is being made. Please don't sue.
Rating: PG
Summary: "He that is not jealous is not in love." St. Augustine

Jocelyn was not jealous. She didn’t get jealous anymore, least of all over her ex-husband. Which was strange considering that the emotion currently running rampant through her felt an awful lot like jealousy.

Face it, Joc. You’re jealous.

She sighed, taking a larger than necessary sip of the cocktail in her hand. It was ridiculous really to get so bent out of shape over a conversation. It wasn’t like she had any rights to Leonard anymore, and while she was sure he wasn’t putting any effort into goading her, he was doing a fantastic job of it. Afterall, the smile he directed at the blonde diplomat was one she recognized all too easily considering how many times he’d used it on her back in the days before an ugly divorce or even being married. If she thought back on it she could still remember the smell of peach blossoms on humid night air and the soft feel of an old cotton quilt over grass, that smile and the reflection of the starlight in his eyes when he asked if he could kiss her.

The memory was one she had to physically shake herself free from just in time to see the other woman place a flirtatious hand against Len’s chest.

She’s half way across the room before she’s had the time to think twice about what she’s doing. Resting a possessive hand on his arm she clears her throat, ever the lady-- if ladies managed to pull off the kind of distasteful glare Jocelyn was. She felt Leonard’s posture change under her touch, a shift from flirtatious to conscientious, like he’d been caught with his hand in the cookie jar.

“I’m sorry to interrupt, but there were a few things I needed to discuss with you, Doctor.” It’s the farthest things from the truth, not that it matters when the other woman dejectedly excuses herself once his attentions shift to herself.

“I was curious as to what functions you, or rather medical, were serving when we beam down to the surface.”

The look on his face clearly said he didn’t buy it for a minute and that her ruse was just as shallow and see through as she’d feared it would be. Luckily for her, he was too much of a gentleman to call her on it.

“M’Benga’s goin’ down, Josey. Not me. Though you knew that. And even if they say none of the hostages were hurt, better t’check ‘em out before they get moved.”

Jocelyn flushed from embarrassment. It was common sense really and again the look on his face told her he knew good and damn well what this had really been about. “Was that all?”

She nod and made to walk away but his sudden grip on her wrist cut off her retreat.
“Then if you’re done talkin’ shop, I seem to be down a dance partner.”

It was a kindness on his part to offer her that when it was so much more than a dance really. It was part forgiveness and reassurance, two things she really had no right to expect but that he offered freely. It was who he was. Who he had always been. No matter what everyone else around him had come to believe Jocelyn knew the truth. She still saw the same boy that she’d asked to dance however many years ago; the one that had worn that sort of sweet, and trusting, and hopeful expression on his face when he’d asked her to stay on the floor with him for another song.

She couldn’t let herself think about it though, couldn’t really let herself dwell any more than she already had. She’d been selfish enough as it was except when they lapsed into the kind of comfortable silence that was only born from history and familiarity, she couldn’t help wanting it to last a little bit longer.
Sexy Jocelyn

(no subject)

Title: Without Trace
Author: FeeferJ
Fandom: Star Trek XI
Characters: McCoy, Jocelyn
Disclaimer: They aren't mine and I'm broke. This is just for fun and no profit is being made. Please don't sue.
Rating: NC-17
Summary: Is it a form of control or denial?

He’s already kneeling on their bedroom floor when she steps out of their bathroom, the scent of her bubble bath still clinging to her as the steam rises from her skin. He’s got candles lit and she lets the towel slide to the floor in a heap while their light flickers off the walls, casting perfect shadows across his face when he looks up at her. Jocelyn walks over to the bed, fingers trailing over his shoulders as she does and settles herself on the edge of their mattress. He’s watching her with hungry eyes and she offers him a small quirk of her lips, her finger crooking and inviting him over wordlessly. He slides closer with more grace than any man on his knees has a right to until he’s close enough to touch her if he wanted, and he does, but she’s not granted him the permission to do so. She’s always taken the lead between the two of them, from that first dance to their first kiss, and this is no different.

Their eyes lock for a heavy moment, lust and desire hanging hot between them while the flames dance around them until she settles those long legs of hers over his shoulders and says, “Make me come.”

His mouth is on her ready and eager before she’s even had a chance to settle back against the bed, fingers moving over her, inside her, as skilled in this as they will be in surgery one day if not more so. He knows her body in a way she’s sure even she hasn’t figured out, knows how to work her until she’s breaking apart under his attentions and whimpering his name. It’s a precarious balance between them, the times when he starts to test the limits of what she’ll allow and the times she lets him get away with taking more control than she’s willing to give. His free hand moves up her thigh and moves toward her breast only for her to still it with one of her own, her voice when she tells him to stop. To get on the bed. To close his eyes and lay still.

He complies with the not quite orders, not quite requests easily enough, skin sliding against skin when they switch positions. She leans towards the nightstand long enough to reach inside the drawer and pull out a slim vibrator and a small bottle of lubricant. Jocelyn slicks up both her fingers and the toy with practiced ease before settling herself over him backwards, slowly, body taking him in inch by careful inch until there’s no difference between where one starts and the other ends. She draws slick fingertips over the puckered ring of muscle teasingly. It’s easy in this position to slide in a finger, then another, to listen to the sharp hiss of his breath when she starts to thrust them in counterpoint to the movement of her body on his cock.

It isn’t until she’s close again that she removes her fingers and slips the vibrator inside him to take their place. She enjoys this, can only imagine the look on his face as she fucks him with the toy, increasing the power of the vibrations just that little bit more with each pass of it over his prostate, but she’s reduced to her own imagination based off the sounds he makes.

“Joc. Jocelyn.” The need is plain in his voice and she smiles though she knows he can’t see it. She’s close again and her hand reaches back to grab his, to place it against her clit while her fingers move over his until she’s clenching down around him and telling him to come inside her. She can feel his body shudder and her fingers intertwine with his as she readjusts herself, falls into a heap at his side to pull that hand and the arm attached around her. A glance at his face shows dark lashes against tan skin, the fact that his eyes are still closed pulling a ghost of a laugh from her. She presses her lips to the edge of his jaw, words whispering over the permanent stubble he seems to wear these days. “You can open your eyes now, darlin’.”

That shock of hazel when he does sends something straight through her that has her tightening her grip on his hand like she might lose him somehow if she doesn’t hold on for all she’s worth, like the scales of power might tip and become unbalanced if she’s not careful, or worse, that she might welcome it if they did. Leonard is no Clay though, he doesn’t need to control everything to be content with it, and that was what had drawn her to him in the first place. She’d been proving a point then, and when she suggests they sleep so she can avoid thinking about it further, she’s proving another to herself.
Faith and Kirk

(no subject)

Title: Two Lovers
Author: FeeferJ
Fandom: Star Trek XI/ Buffy the Vampire Slayer
Characters: Kirk, "Bones" McCoy, Faith Lehane
Disclaimer: They don't belong to me and I'm broke. This is just for fun and there is no profit being made. Please don't sue.
Rating: NC-17 for explicit sex and a M/F/M threesome.
Summary: Faith breaks up a fight between Bones and Kirk. Then there's sex. It's PWP. I make no claims to the contrary.
Author's Note: This was a result of the six impossible things meme. Pure crossover crack mixed with smut.

She was caught between the crush of two male bodies which was something she wouldn’t have minded under normal circumstances. This, however, was different. Jim had had a little too much to drink and Bones had said something that struck a nerve. She wasn’t sure exactly what happened, but she’d watched Jim throw a sloppy punch at the Doctor that quickly spiraled into a full blown fight, and had acted accordingly by moving between them. Keeping them completely separate was another story altogether despite her best efforts.

Faith had never seen anything like it from the two of them and she wondered how such strong affection could transform into such a violent outpouring over two minutes worth of conversation. Sure she’d watched them bicker, had seen the small scuffles they’d gotten into without any intent behind them, but this? This was something more. Neither man would back down as the tension built, while talking sense into either of them was something she’d given up on long before this incident. In an act of desperation, Faith did the only thing she could think to do-- she kissed Jim. The move caught him by surprise but the animal ferocity he’d been using to go after Bones was easily translated to lust when aided by alcohol and a half naked woman pressing herself against him.

She felt a hand twist itself roughly into her hair and the sharp tug that followed. It wasn’t Jim’s hand pulling her head back, and it wasn’t Jim’s lips on her throat. A growl emanated from the chest behind her and she felt Jim’s hand move around her to rest on Bones’ hip, either as reassurance, or as encouragement, she couldn’t really be sure. All she knew was that it brought the three of them closer together until Leonard moved for Kirk’s mouth.

If there was anything she’d learned in her time as a Slayer, it was that you had to know when to stay and fight, and when retreating was the smart option. Once it was obvious that they weren’t about to kill one another, she figured retreat was the way to go; that had been her plan until she felt the vice like grips on her arm and waist simultaneously. Unless she intended to use Slayer strength and potentially hurt one or both men, she was effectively trapped between them. Bones pulled away from Jim long enough for the smooth southern lilt of his voice to wash over her.

“No one said you needed to leave, girl.” Her eyes moved to meet the impossible blue of Jim’s without missing the smirk he wore. Had she moved into him closer she would have felt how hard he was beneath his pants.

“You have to follow Doctor’s orders, Faith.” The hand Jim had kept on her hip moved up to her breast, brushing against a nipple casually. Anyone else probably would have slapped him, Faith only smirked.

“Wasn’t aware he’d given any.”

A nip to her neck from Bones turned whatever else she might have said into a low moan. The two men exchanged a glance that she knew she had no hope of interpreting; no longer satisfied being an inactive participant, she took matters into her own hands. With the grip he still had on her arm, Leonard was the body closest to hers. It didn’t take much for her to reach down and run her hand over the erection starting to press against her thigh. The gaze they’d held was broken when Bones jerked toward her and Jim’s eyes fell down to where Faith’s hand had strayed. A mixture of things passed over his face as he watched the Slayer tease his lover through material that both seemed too thin and not thin enough to someone‘s hand that wasn‘t his.

“Dammit, woman.” Faith grinned even though Leonard couldn’t see it while Jim stood transfixed to the spot.

“You want me to stop?” Her tone was teasing, fingers insistent.

“Don’t you dare.” Jim tweaked her nipple when the words left Bones’ mouth, as if he suddenly remembered he’d been in the middle of something before she’d started the hand job, clearing his throat to speak. “As Captain, I second that.”
When she shifted between them again they didn’t try to stop her, an unspoken understanding that when she moved away this time she expected them to follow. Faith walked through the doorway that led to her bedroom, fingers already loosening the knot of her robe with each step, letting the material slide off her shoulders when she reached the foot of the bed. Jim, both eager and shameless, stripped his shirt off when he entered the room while Bones looked between the two, hesitating momentarily while desire warred with reason once the physical contact had been broken, until desire won out.

She settled herself on the mattress with Jim sliding behind her once he‘d rid himself of his uniform trousers, his hand moving to roam her skin, and her hand extending toward Leonard in invitation. It was all too easy; if he hadn’t known better Bones would have thought it was planned. He knew they thought too much alike though, something he’d cursed often enough when it came to them getting into trouble, but found himself thankful for in a situation like this. The doctor pulled his tunic off and tossed it in the vicinity of Kirk’s discarded clothing and Faith’s robe. When his hand moved to his pants, Faith’s hand covered his own.

“Let me.” The smirk she wore relayed that her actions weren’t about being helpful so much as wanting something. She sat back on her heels when she pulled down the zipper, deceptively dainty hand moving in to wrap around his cock while pushing the material off of his hips. Her mouth wasn’t far behind as her lips slid over the head, tongue circling slowly around the crown before she took him in as far as she could. Bones let out a groan, fingers sliding into her hair and tangling in the dark strands; watching as Jim ran a hand up and over her thigh to brush against her clit, slipping first one finger inside her body, then another. When she moaned around him he could feel the vibrations from her throat practically to his toes, unable to keep from thrusting forward in search of more of the same.

Jim thought it would be more difficult than he was finding it to see the expression on McCoy’s face that he currently saw, and know that it was the result of someone else’s attentions. Yet, rather than the jealousy he’d expected, nothing but desire ran through his veins when Bones opened dark eyes to stare down at him. It was the kind of look that sent all the blood in his body rushing toward his cock. Where he’d been hard before, now he was painfully so, telegraphing his need with each crook and drag of his fingers over Faith’s G spot.

Foreplay and Faith weren’t acquainted very often. She was pretty notorious for her impatience both in and out of the bedroom and Kirk’s teasing wasn’t helping to break her of it. Pulling off of Bones’ cock, Faith leaned over to kiss Jim, the faint taste of pre-cum lingering on her tongue as she pushed it into his mouth without preamble. His fingers fell from her body, dragging her own wetness against her thigh when he cupped her ass and pulled her into his lap. One hand went to his chest to steady herself while she straddled him, the other stroking him and lining him up with her body to facilitate sinking down on him. Impatient as she may have been, she still took the opportunity to tease; small thrusts of her hips brought him into her body before she’d bring herself back, never letting him penetrate her fully. Faith could hear the sound of clothing being shed and skin brushing against skin. She knew Bones was jerking himself off to the two of them and fuck if it wasn‘t a turn on.

That knowledge, knowing what the teasing was doing not only to them, but to Leonard, drove her to take as much of Jim as she could with one thrust. Her moan was echoed by Kirk when she started working her hips against him, the bed dipping slightly with Bones’ extra weight moving toward them. She heard him open the drawer next to her bed and the sound of her lube being uncapped. Presumptuous bastard. A smirk rode her face just as surely as she was riding Jim, his thumb running over her clit lazily; a mix of anticipation, excitement, and lust warring in his eyes as his gaze flicked from Faith to Bones over her shoulder. Faith felt her own stirrings of anticipation when Bones wrapped an arm around her chest to pull her back against his, forcing her to relax against him, his hand caressing her breast and rolling the nipple between his thumb and forefinger.

It wasn’t until she felt the first slick finger move between her ass that she tensed. Bones placed a kiss against her neck, nipping at the skin before nipping at her earlobe. “Relax, girl. I’ve got you.”

Jim increased the pressure against her clit, controlling the movement of her hips while thrusting up and into her in an effort to redirect her attention. The doctor’s finger moved back to her ass and she shuddered when he slid it past the tight ring of muscle gingerly, alternating the slide and pull of his finger with Jim’s thrusts. He didn’t slide another finger into her until she began moaning in earnest. Scissoring the digits helped to prepare her, helped to loosen her up for what was coming. She knew that much, was glad for the effort and care he was showing. Anal sex was something she’d experimented with before, both with a pro and a jackass that thought it was just about shoving in and going to town. She knew both how good it could feel and how much it could suck, she’d just never done this. It was daunting, but she found herself wanting it, wanting to feel both of them moving in and out of her while she was trapped between their bodies, her mind going back to the thrill of excitement she’d felt when she’d been between them during their scuffle.

Some silent communication passed between the two men again while she’d been ruminating and Jim tugged her down to him, capturing her lips in a searing kiss that was nothing but pure lust. Bones pulled his fingers free of her body, the arm he’d had round her chest going back to his side to open the small tube of lubricant again, slicking his cock generously before moving into position, placing his knees between Faith‘s calves and Jim‘s thighs. The Slayer knew when he pressed forward again that it wouldn’t be his fingers, but the slight pain still came as a shock when he breached her; she also knew enough not to tense while her body adjusted to the double intrusion, none of them moving, both men giving her time and letting her make the first move when she was ready.

Faith had never felt so full in her life, honestly unsure if she’d be able to pull this off until she pushed back against Bones experimentally, a pleased gasp escaping her, and managing to drag a moan out of Jim. With that single movement on her part, the two men began working her body, alternating their thrusts so that each push and pull was perfectly synced, and she could feel them moving against each other as they moved inside of her. The feeling was intense, and the resulting orgasm hit her hard and fast. They didn’t stop or slow while she rode it out, if anything they increased their pace. A second orgasm followed almost immediately on the heels of the first, and she would have screamed if Jim hadn’t kissed her again, hand tangling in her hair.

It wasn’t long after that she felt him tense, felt the shudder that passed through him and into her as he came, the hand in her hair tightening with the other reaching for McCoy, looking to touch some part of the other man. Without Jim’s opposition, Bones was able to let go without worry, the force of his thrusts increasing until his steady pace faltered with his orgasm, burying himself as deep as he could inside Faith until he knew with certainty that he was spent. He pulled out slowly so Faith could roll off of Kirk, feeling both sated and empty after being filled like she had, the two men collapsing on the bed when she slipped out of the room to clean up wordlessly.

She’d just stepped under the spray of the shower when the door opened and Jim stepped in next to her, his finger tracing the curve of her spine appreciatively until Bones joined them. The shower stall wasn’t meant to accommodate three people at one time, and Faith said as much once McCoy was in the room, not that it stopped him from coming in. Kirk only gave her one of his trademark smirks, tucking a wet strand of hair behind Faith’s ear. “Guess we’ll just have to figure out some interesting positions to make it work then.”
Sexy Joanna

(no subject)

Title: Don't Trust Me
Author: FeeferJ
Fandom: Star Trek XI
Characters: Kirk, Joanna McCoy
Disclaimer: They aren't mine and I'm broke. This is just for fun and no profit is being made. Please don't sue.
Rating: NC-17
Summary: Song here.

He thinks Joanna should’ve stuck out like a sore thumb in a place like this. It’s nothing that Bones would approve of, and he’s damn sure that vein in his forehead would start throbbing at the thought of his not so little girl stepping foot inside this kind of establishment. The surprising thing is that, while she should stick out like a sore thumb, he’s actually shocked to discover the brunette he’s been eyeing since he walked through the door is none other than his newest nurse. He wonders what she’s doing here and asks as much when he sidles up beside her and she fires back with a coy “I could ask you the same thing except I‘m pretty sure I already know.”

It turns out they both come to the farthest, darkest dump they can find to outrun their respective reputations, or worse yet, the shadows of their respective fathers. And isn’t that just another surprise to add to the pile, to realize they have more in common than a certain CMO. He almost feels guilty that he keeps comparing the two McCoys in his mind while they talk; she’s just as easy to laugh with, her taste in liquor is just as refined, except she’s softer, strong as steel where it matters, but delicate in ways that mark her as a woman. Oh yeah, and her breasts are to die for. Bones really can’t compete in that department.

She gives him a curious look when he chuckles to himself at the thought and he changes the subject by ordering her another drink. Jim chides her mock scornfully when she takes a solid swallow of it. In dives like the one they’re currently in pretty young women should never be trusting of free drinks they haven’t ordered themselves. Bartenders in this quadrant are too easy to bribe and alien chemicals are too easy to find. Jo simply tells him that she trusts him before downing the rest of the drink and stealing his.

They stare at each other from their stools and she’s her father’s daughter enough that he can recognize the look on her face for what it is. Jim’s pretty sure he would have recognized it even without the genetic markers seeing as he’s seen it enough over the years. The thing is he’s old enough to know better, at least that’s what the voice that he’s pretty sure is meant to be his conscience is telling him. This was Joanna. Joanna was off limits. He should say goodnight. He should say it, get up, and head back to the ship or some other bar to find someone to relieve the sudden tightness in his pants. Instead he takes his drink back and tells her that she shouldn’t trust him. In a place like this he isn’t her Captain. Here he’s just Jim. That voice perks up again and he shuts that pesky little annoyance up by drowning it with another two shots in rapid fire succession.

A little quirk of her lips later and his hand sliding up her thigh have them off the stools and out of the bar. Her breath is hot against his ear when she whispers the things she wants to do to him against the shell of his ear. They end up fucking in the alley and it’s every kind of dirty, wonderful, wrong he might have imagined when he slips inside that tight, wet heat. When they finish she straightens herself up, ignoring the bruises that are already forming on her arm from where he’d held her to him and walks back inside-- just another girl alone at the bar.
Joanna

(no subject)

Title: Stay
Author: FeeferJ
Fandom: Star Trek XI
Characters: Kirk, Joanna McCoy, The Enterprise.
Disclaimer: They aren't mine and I'm broke. This is just for fun and not profit. Please don't sue.
Rating: R
Summary: Song here.

She knows she’ll never be the only one in his life. She’ll never hold all of him because he’s the Captain. A damn good one at that. His crew will always take priority over everything else and she’s alright with that. The good of the many outweighs the good of the few. That very same crew is one she’s sworn to serve and mend whenever they come back bloodied and broken. It’s something she understands.

She also knows she’s not the only woman in his life. No, if she’s honest, she’s nothing more than a mistress. The Enterprise is the woman that owns Jim’s heart. Still, even knowing all that, even accepting it, doesn’t mean that she never feels jealous or lonely. There are times when he crawls into her bed exhausted and weary that she wants to plead with him, beg him to let it all go for just a little while. The weight of the galaxy rides on his shoulders and the desire to help carry that burden is strong. It’s rare that he ever really talks about the things that bother him though because he’s so busy internalizing in some misguided effort to protect her.

Those are the times that she both loves him and hates him. Joanna doesn’t need his protection, and she certainly doesn’t want him to shut himself off from her. That had been the very thing that spelled ruin for her parents’ marriage. She’ll be damned if she allows herself to fall into that same trap. It’s why she coaxes the words out of him, says the things she knows he needs to hear, and gives him the things that he either doesn’t think to ask for or is too afraid to.

The day will come when there’s more to his life, maybe their life, than this. Sometimes she says as much and other times she lets the words die because he gives her that look that begs Not tonight. Those are the times when she crawls into his lap and pushes him against the mattress. They don’t need words for the physical, not when their bodies know this dance by heart. She long ago took the time to map out every line and curve of muscle, every freckle and scar and spot that makes him gasp when her lips brush against it.

She uses her body to heal the hurts that aren’t physical, lets him use her to get what he needs when nothing else works. Afterwards she’ll ask him to stay and he’ll pull her against him before falling asleep. And one day, if that day ever comes, he’ll stop trying to run from what she’s offering and she won’t have to say the word (Stay) because he just will. For now she’ll simply content herself with the way of things; he’ll be gone when she wakes up, gold shirt on, cock sure grin in place, and giving everything he has to the woman that makes up his world-- even if it kills him, and her in the process.

And if she ever let's you go,
we both know what you'll be needin'.
And if you need somewhere to rest,
somewhere to lay your head,
you'll know where to find me.

Joanna

(no subject)

Title: Worse Ways to Go
Author: FeeferJ
Fandom: Star Trek XI
Characters: Kirk, Joanna McCoy
Disclaimer: They aren't mine and I'm broke. This is just for fun and not profit. Please don't sue.
Rating: R
Summary:Song here.

She clings to him in the dark looking for some kind of warmth where there is none, blood tacky and drying between them, and she’s cursing at him, screaming with lungs that are still burning from smoke inhalation when he pulls in an unsteady breath that has tears streaming down her face in relief rather than grief or anger. She kisses him because he’s alive. She kisses him because she’d thought he’d been lost. She kisses him for a million reasons that have nothing to do with the here and now.

They don’t talk about it when they’re back on the ship because she makes sure the opportunity is never presented despite the fact that she thinks about it almost obsessively. Or maybe because she does. She goes out of her way to avoid him but she catches his eyes on her. Those blue eyes follow her movements when she’s in the same room that he is, and her heart accelerates to an almost painful rate. Joanna escapes to somewhere he isn‘t. He waits.

It’s when she’s looking in the opposite direction that she feels the hand tightening on her wrist and tugging her down a corridor. His grip is like a vice and she’s too stunned to react until the hand that isn’t holding onto her threads into her hair and tilts her head up to his. For a long moment she’s lost to the kiss, to the feel of him pressed up against her. When he backs her into a wall is when she comes back to her senses and jerks away, a hissed What are you doing? getting thrown at him. He smiles that impossibly smug grin of his and brushes the pad of his thumb across her lips.

“I thought that part was obvious.”

And this time she flees.

Days go by where she manages to avoid him, the only problem being that she can’t avoid her own thoughts. Her mind torments her by supplying her with the moments between them in vivid clarity, over and over. The man has a reputation for a reason, something she reminds herself of after every one of these walks down memory lane. She has no desire to be another one of his cast offs even if a small part of her wonders if it wouldn’t be worth it.

Jo slips into bed to try and find some kind of relief but even her subconscious conspires against her, filling her dreams with Jim’s touch and the taste of him, making her toss restlessly beneath her blankets until the sound of her door sliding closed brings her semi-alert.

He’s standing there, and she knows it’s him, because no one else could have overridden her code.

She pulls the sheet around her before telling him to get out. He settles himself down in the chair next to her bed before calling for the lights. It would be too easy for him to proposition and for her to turn him down. Instead, he goes for a different question. She can’t imagine Jim is used to anyone turning him down and he accuses her of sending mixed signals when she tells him she isn’t interested. She clarifies that she isn’t interested in becoming a notch on his bed post. His expression is dark when he leaves the chair for her bed so he can invade her personal space, forcing her to look at him when he informs her that he wouldn’t risk his best friend for anything so trivial.

When he kisses her this time she doesn’t fight, and she doesn’t pull away. Jim presses the advantage and Joanna already knows that this is a battle she’s going to lose. That it’s a battle she lost when she first gave in to the need that drove her on that god forsaken planet.. His hand slips beneath her camisole to brush at the underside of her breast and she’s not even sure she wants to win if it means giving this up. He’s going to be the death of her, she decides, and then she’s pulling the silk up and over her head.

There are worse ways to go.
Mirror verse trek

(no subject)

Title: Hell is in your eyes
Author: FeeferJ
Fandom: Star Trek (Reboot Mirror Verse)
Characters: Mirror verse Kirk, McCoy, Jocelyn, and Joanna
Disclaimer: I don't own them and there's no infringement or profit being made. I just like playing with them and breaking them on occasion.
Rating and warnings: NC-17 for NON-CON and VIOLENCE
Summary: “An optimist expects his dreams to come true; a pessimist expects his nightmares to.” Dr Laurence J. Peter

McCoy sees them when he closes his eyes, the nightmares that never seem to stay in his dreams. Visions of Kirk’s hand up Jocelyn’s skirt, the fear and pain written clearly on her features and the screams that echo in his ears when Kirk cuts her, fucks her, leaves a bloody mess beyond his saving. He tries, he tries every time and he fails; fails to stop him, fails to revive her, fails to keep all the darkness and horror away from the family that represents the only bright spot, the only hope left to a man like him. Sometimes she looks at him, hate in her eyes and cold lips whispering accusations at him like a curse. He wakes up drenched in a cold sweat biting back a scream and hands bloody from where he’s dug his own nails into his palms. The nightmares are horrible and he wakes from them only to step into another, one that’s all too real and not as easy to escape.

Kirk’s hands are rough when they grab at him, demanding and impatient when they rip at clothing. The man doesn’t bother with niceties because he’s too busy taking what he wants. If he bothers using lube it’s only for his own convenience, not caring about whatever pain he’s causing, and if he does, he only reflects on it as a source of amusement and pleasure. Sometimes the man will bend him over and fuck into him in front of a mirror just to see the pained expression reflected there, the visual complimenting the auditory grunts and whimpers he pulls out of McCoy with each brutal thrust. Over and over again that voice whispers dirty things into his ear. Over and over again he’s told what a disappointment he is, how Kirk wonders if Joanna would be tighter, if Jocelyn would scream louder, and those words keep him from closing his eyes because those images already play in his mind.

Sometimes it goes on for hours; the words, the sex, the small cuts and intricate patterns carved by a dagger that’s as sharp as the mind and tongue of the man wielding it. Sometimes he begs for death and gets rewarded with a backhand, a ground out coward before he‘s spat on and kicked. And when the Captain is finished with him, when he’s lying there with tears and blood and come drying against his skin he crawls into a shower to close his eyes. To wish away the nightmares that plague him more and more with everyday that passes. He closes his eyes and tries to dig up the memories that used to be so readily available to him of a wife with sparkling blue gray eyes and a loving smile. A small daughter full of light and laughter. Jocelyn’s eyes hardly sparkle in his thoughts now, that flat corpse like quality harder and harder to override when he tries to recall her. Joanna’s laughter is replaced with disgust and revulsion as she lists off his crimes from bloodied lips.

He wonders if he’s slipping into insanity because madness would be a blessing, but in this world-- in this world angels don‘t exist; only demons with too blue eyes.