News Flash (Star Trek XI AU Ficlet, R)
Dec. 10th, 2010 10:39 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
browngirlTitle: News Flash
Fandom: Star Trek XI
Rating: Hard R.
Pairing: Prince Jim/Dr. Lenora McCoy
Summary: Prince Jim and Princess Bones on their wedding day.
Content Advisory: Genderswap, AU setting, het, author on crack.
Acknowledgements/Author's Notes: Written for![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
ladydey: " Prince!Jim verse - consummation after the Royal Wedding." Sequel to "Today's News".
Disclaimer: None of these characters or their settings belong to me (though I've made a few modifications).
Jim props his elbows on the windowsill in time to see the last dressing-maid's skirts flutter through the dooway just barely ahead of the door Bones slams, shouting, "I'm a goddamn grown woman, I can dress my own self!"
God, she's hot when she's pissed off, and she's usually pissed off about something, her cheeks glowing, her hazel eyes shot through with gold flames, her breasts heaving and that ripe mouth of hers pushed out in a pouting scowl. She waves her arms overhead in a gesture of 'good riddance!', then unfastens all the tiny snaps on the half-cape, her fingers moving with careful delicacy; he shivers as he remembers their feel and presses his toes into the joints between the stones, watching her peel off the half-cape and fold her rosy arms behind her back to tug at the self-hiding fastening there.
Eventually she snorts and says, still facing away from him, "Come in already and help me with this stupid fucking thing."
"As you wish, milady," Jim says as he pulls himself over the windowsill, using the American accent he knows Bones likes, and switches the security grid back on as soon as he's inside. He's had to speak like a prince all day during the wedding ceremonies, and seen the uncertainty flickering in her eyes as she listens to him, but she didn't run away, today or yesterday or since he convinced her to come home with him. The least he can do is speak like her Jim when they're alone, and watch tension unthread from her bare shoulders at the sound of his voice. God, he loves seeing that.
"Oh, stop it," she answers with laughter in her voice, standing in profile to him, watching herself in the mirror as she carefully unfastens the wreath of flowers from her hair, pin by tiny pin. Jim feels like he's swallowed sunshine as he steps behind her to unhook and unfasten and unzip her daytime wedding dress. It slides down off the sleek satin underdress, and he picks it up and tosses it over a chair.
When he looks up, Bones is looking at him in the mirror, and she holds his gaze as he helps her lift off the flowers, cupping the hidden vase in his hand so it won't spill. "Greetings, Princess Lenora," he says to her wide eyes, and she rolls them but a smile peeks out at the corner of her mouth.
"Not very proper princely behavior, climbing through a window," she says as he sets the wreath down, the smile on both sides of her mouth now, creasing her cheeks.
"You're welcome," Jim answers with his best 'pick-me-up-I'm-harmless' grin, and watches his Bones actually laugh, her breasts generously overtopping the bodice. He cups them, that much fuller and tenderer than the last time they got to play, and she cocks one of those eloquent eyebrows but the smile still shows in the corners of her warm hazel eyes.
"I need to be dressed and you need to be presentable in twenty-six minutes." But she breathes in just so, pressing into his hands. "Just about anybody might just pop in here to check on me once that fluttering gaggle of dressup maids tattle on me for throwing them out. Maybe even your lady mother the Queen."
"We get a whole half hour for the eveningwear change for a reason." Jim slides his fingers into the top of her bodice, feeling her quiver and her soft skin glowing warm under his hands, thinking about how dizzyingly turned on he's been all day, watching her speaking and pivoting and moving with effortful grace, watching her working her hardest to be his princess. "Mother told me she's pretty sure that's when she and my father concieved Sam, but we've got a head start there at least."
"Oh for the love of -- !" She blushes under the makeup, shaking her head, and he thinks of pulling out the pins holding her braids up and together, all that sweet dark hair tumbling down, but that would waste their time. "Did I need to know that? Are you even supposed to be in here?"
"We're married now, Bones," he tells her, and kisses her ear, holding her reflected eyes in the mirror. "Wherever you are, I can be."
She blinks, her mouth falls open so deliciously, and Jim's only made of flesh and blood like any man. He spins her and she reaches up for him, catching his face between those strong doctor's hands of hers as she kisses him, hard and soft and sweeter than a drink of water in the midday summer heat of her hometown.
Then she lets go, and he does too. "I need to get dressed," she says softly, looking down, looking away, and he nods and doesn't push. 'We are the makers of manners,' he's quoted to her before, but she's still feeling her way into this new world she had to enter in order to be with him. He reaches for her evening headdress, crystals and lights, and they pin it on together, their fingers overlapping; when they're done he looks at her, at the sparkling glimmer in her hair and the goldshot brilliance of her eyes, and has to wrap his hands around her bare soft arms and give her another kiss, deep and fervent.
She looks surprised. "What was that for?"
Because you're beautiful, Jim thinks, and because of all the bullshit you're signing up for just to have me. "Because you have stars in your hair," he says, and she groans and throws her arms around his neck and kisses him gorgeously.
"God fucking damn it," she mutters against his mouth, pulling one hand away, shifting against him; he hears cloth rustling and realizes just as she teeters and leans on him--
"Bones! Can I keep those?" he asks as her little white panties emerge from under her petticoats, and she rolls her eyes and tosses them away from his grab.
"What, in your handkerchief pocket? Oh, nobody would notice that, Jim!" But she's still holding onto him, fingers tucked into his shirt collar, and when she kisses him again he slides his hands under her petticoats, finding her sleek living legs among all the ruffles, lifting them around his waist as he strides forward to the wall.
When she reaches down to unfasten his pants, her tongue flickering over his, he laughs triumphantly into her mouth, and when she actually laughs in answer, the sound crushed between their lips, his heart cartwheels in his chest. He groans relief as he slides into her, slick and warm and welcoming, and she gasps and shudders and squeezes him with her thighs, all those petticoats fluttering around his hips and her pillowy breasts squashed against his chest as they trade gasping breaths and clutch each other and consummate their marriage.
Neither of them tries to make it last, he waits just long enough to feel her ripple into ecstasy around him and lets her orgasm set off his, they muffle each other's moans in deep messy kisses and cling tightly until he can stop leaning on her and she can stop shaking. He pulls free, letting her feet down onto the floor, and she gasps and yanks her hands from his shoulders to grab her petticoats, saying, "Dammit, Jim!"
"Yes, Bones?" he asks, wobbling back a step, wishing he could drop into a chair and pull her onto his lap.
"I can't go to the reception with come all over -- what," she lands on flatly as he drops to his knees. "You can't go with come all over your face!" But her voice melts as his tongue curls against her thigh.
"We've got time to wash up," he promises against her heated, velvety skin, and laps her thighs and licks her open, her suppressed moans quivering through her flesh onto his tongue. This time he goes for it, this time he gets her to forget her skirts and grip his hair, gets her to come twice and scream on the second. They've still got six minutes, he thinks as he listens to her gasping above him, snugged under fluffy cloth into redolent wet heaven; he knows he can go from naked to a three piece suit in under five.
But her fingers slacken well before when he expects them to. Pushing her skirts off his head, Jim looks up to see hers tipped back against the wall, lights still sparkling and shining in her hair, her eyes closed and her smile so dreamy triumph pulses in his chest. "Dammit," Bones murmurs, fingers sliding down his face in a loosening caress, "now I'm all overheated an'..."
She starts to tip sideways. Jim shoots up to catch her and Bones slumps into his arms, so heavily limp he goes to his knees again. Her head lolls against his shoulder, lips still curved into that dreamy smile, but when he calls her over and over she doesn't even twitch.
Not even when he shouts, "Bones, come on, Bones, please!"
Not even when he mutters, "Oh, shit."
Fandom: Star Trek XI
Rating: Hard R.
Pairing: Prince Jim/Dr. Lenora McCoy
Summary: Prince Jim and Princess Bones on their wedding day.
Content Advisory: Genderswap, AU setting, het, author on crack.
Acknowledgements/Author's Notes: Written for
ladydey: " Prince!Jim verse - consummation after the Royal Wedding." Sequel to "Today's News".Disclaimer: None of these characters or their settings belong to me (though I've made a few modifications).
Jim props his elbows on the windowsill in time to see the last dressing-maid's skirts flutter through the dooway just barely ahead of the door Bones slams, shouting, "I'm a goddamn grown woman, I can dress my own self!"
God, she's hot when she's pissed off, and she's usually pissed off about something, her cheeks glowing, her hazel eyes shot through with gold flames, her breasts heaving and that ripe mouth of hers pushed out in a pouting scowl. She waves her arms overhead in a gesture of 'good riddance!', then unfastens all the tiny snaps on the half-cape, her fingers moving with careful delicacy; he shivers as he remembers their feel and presses his toes into the joints between the stones, watching her peel off the half-cape and fold her rosy arms behind her back to tug at the self-hiding fastening there.
Eventually she snorts and says, still facing away from him, "Come in already and help me with this stupid fucking thing."
"As you wish, milady," Jim says as he pulls himself over the windowsill, using the American accent he knows Bones likes, and switches the security grid back on as soon as he's inside. He's had to speak like a prince all day during the wedding ceremonies, and seen the uncertainty flickering in her eyes as she listens to him, but she didn't run away, today or yesterday or since he convinced her to come home with him. The least he can do is speak like her Jim when they're alone, and watch tension unthread from her bare shoulders at the sound of his voice. God, he loves seeing that.
"Oh, stop it," she answers with laughter in her voice, standing in profile to him, watching herself in the mirror as she carefully unfastens the wreath of flowers from her hair, pin by tiny pin. Jim feels like he's swallowed sunshine as he steps behind her to unhook and unfasten and unzip her daytime wedding dress. It slides down off the sleek satin underdress, and he picks it up and tosses it over a chair.
When he looks up, Bones is looking at him in the mirror, and she holds his gaze as he helps her lift off the flowers, cupping the hidden vase in his hand so it won't spill. "Greetings, Princess Lenora," he says to her wide eyes, and she rolls them but a smile peeks out at the corner of her mouth.
"Not very proper princely behavior, climbing through a window," she says as he sets the wreath down, the smile on both sides of her mouth now, creasing her cheeks.
"You're welcome," Jim answers with his best 'pick-me-up-I'm-harmless' grin, and watches his Bones actually laugh, her breasts generously overtopping the bodice. He cups them, that much fuller and tenderer than the last time they got to play, and she cocks one of those eloquent eyebrows but the smile still shows in the corners of her warm hazel eyes.
"I need to be dressed and you need to be presentable in twenty-six minutes." But she breathes in just so, pressing into his hands. "Just about anybody might just pop in here to check on me once that fluttering gaggle of dressup maids tattle on me for throwing them out. Maybe even your lady mother the Queen."
"We get a whole half hour for the eveningwear change for a reason." Jim slides his fingers into the top of her bodice, feeling her quiver and her soft skin glowing warm under his hands, thinking about how dizzyingly turned on he's been all day, watching her speaking and pivoting and moving with effortful grace, watching her working her hardest to be his princess. "Mother told me she's pretty sure that's when she and my father concieved Sam, but we've got a head start there at least."
"Oh for the love of -- !" She blushes under the makeup, shaking her head, and he thinks of pulling out the pins holding her braids up and together, all that sweet dark hair tumbling down, but that would waste their time. "Did I need to know that? Are you even supposed to be in here?"
"We're married now, Bones," he tells her, and kisses her ear, holding her reflected eyes in the mirror. "Wherever you are, I can be."
She blinks, her mouth falls open so deliciously, and Jim's only made of flesh and blood like any man. He spins her and she reaches up for him, catching his face between those strong doctor's hands of hers as she kisses him, hard and soft and sweeter than a drink of water in the midday summer heat of her hometown.
Then she lets go, and he does too. "I need to get dressed," she says softly, looking down, looking away, and he nods and doesn't push. 'We are the makers of manners,' he's quoted to her before, but she's still feeling her way into this new world she had to enter in order to be with him. He reaches for her evening headdress, crystals and lights, and they pin it on together, their fingers overlapping; when they're done he looks at her, at the sparkling glimmer in her hair and the goldshot brilliance of her eyes, and has to wrap his hands around her bare soft arms and give her another kiss, deep and fervent.
She looks surprised. "What was that for?"
Because you're beautiful, Jim thinks, and because of all the bullshit you're signing up for just to have me. "Because you have stars in your hair," he says, and she groans and throws her arms around his neck and kisses him gorgeously.
"God fucking damn it," she mutters against his mouth, pulling one hand away, shifting against him; he hears cloth rustling and realizes just as she teeters and leans on him--
"Bones! Can I keep those?" he asks as her little white panties emerge from under her petticoats, and she rolls her eyes and tosses them away from his grab.
"What, in your handkerchief pocket? Oh, nobody would notice that, Jim!" But she's still holding onto him, fingers tucked into his shirt collar, and when she kisses him again he slides his hands under her petticoats, finding her sleek living legs among all the ruffles, lifting them around his waist as he strides forward to the wall.
When she reaches down to unfasten his pants, her tongue flickering over his, he laughs triumphantly into her mouth, and when she actually laughs in answer, the sound crushed between their lips, his heart cartwheels in his chest. He groans relief as he slides into her, slick and warm and welcoming, and she gasps and shudders and squeezes him with her thighs, all those petticoats fluttering around his hips and her pillowy breasts squashed against his chest as they trade gasping breaths and clutch each other and consummate their marriage.
Neither of them tries to make it last, he waits just long enough to feel her ripple into ecstasy around him and lets her orgasm set off his, they muffle each other's moans in deep messy kisses and cling tightly until he can stop leaning on her and she can stop shaking. He pulls free, letting her feet down onto the floor, and she gasps and yanks her hands from his shoulders to grab her petticoats, saying, "Dammit, Jim!"
"Yes, Bones?" he asks, wobbling back a step, wishing he could drop into a chair and pull her onto his lap.
"I can't go to the reception with come all over -- what," she lands on flatly as he drops to his knees. "You can't go with come all over your face!" But her voice melts as his tongue curls against her thigh.
"We've got time to wash up," he promises against her heated, velvety skin, and laps her thighs and licks her open, her suppressed moans quivering through her flesh onto his tongue. This time he goes for it, this time he gets her to forget her skirts and grip his hair, gets her to come twice and scream on the second. They've still got six minutes, he thinks as he listens to her gasping above him, snugged under fluffy cloth into redolent wet heaven; he knows he can go from naked to a three piece suit in under five.
But her fingers slacken well before when he expects them to. Pushing her skirts off his head, Jim looks up to see hers tipped back against the wall, lights still sparkling and shining in her hair, her eyes closed and her smile so dreamy triumph pulses in his chest. "Dammit," Bones murmurs, fingers sliding down his face in a loosening caress, "now I'm all overheated an'..."
She starts to tip sideways. Jim shoots up to catch her and Bones slumps into his arms, so heavily limp he goes to his knees again. Her head lolls against his shoulder, lips still curved into that dreamy smile, but when he calls her over and over she doesn't even twitch.
Not even when he shouts, "Bones, come on, Bones, please!"
Not even when he mutters, "Oh, shit."
![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
no subject
Date: 2010-12-10 04:49 pm (UTC)I love your brain and want to marry it.
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Date: 2010-12-13 02:36 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2010-12-10 05:01 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2010-12-13 03:57 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2010-12-10 05:17 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2010-12-13 04:12 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2010-12-10 06:35 pm (UTC)But Jim climbing into the window after their wedding and then loving her until she passes out? That's priceless (and so Jim)!
Of course, now how's he going to explain? LOL!
Since you left it there, I will only keep my fingers crossed that there is more at some point.
*hugs*
WN
no subject
Date: 2010-12-13 04:14 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2010-12-10 07:12 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2010-12-13 04:36 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2010-12-10 09:25 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2010-12-13 04:36 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2010-12-10 10:18 pm (UTC)I love that Jim really appreciates all that Bones is going through just 'cause she loves him and she could care less about the titles and pomp.
HAHAHAHA - he made her pass out! Outstanding. Thank you for my story, it's great.
And I totally agree that bad-ass Mirror!Leah would be a kick ass drawn image.
no subject
Date: 2010-12-13 04:38 pm (UTC)Now I just have to figure out how they get to run off and not Live In Genovia Doing Fuck All, as Bones would put it. :D
(And maybe a story about Badass Pirate Leah.)
no subject
Date: 2010-12-11 04:34 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2010-12-13 05:21 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2010-12-11 04:43 am (UTC)That doesn't make this less wonderful.
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Date: 2010-12-13 05:21 pm (UTC)Thank you, bb.
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Date: 2010-12-11 03:31 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2010-12-13 05:22 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2010-12-11 05:29 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2010-12-13 05:23 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2010-12-13 05:47 pm (UTC)