Fic: While Singing, 1/1. Girl!Kirk/Spock.
Aug. 2nd, 2009 09:27 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
katydidmischief posting in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png){kind=small}
cjs_owndisclaimer. Not mine. Never have been and I'll only ever be playing in the sandbox.
title. While Singing
rating. NC-17
Pairing. Girl!Kirk/Spock
summary. She still wonders if she could make him blush hard, make him blush so much his entire body is flushed green.
warnings. Genderbending - Born a Girl!Kirk
notes. Written for this prompt atst_xi_kink.
I've never written explicit sex for het before, guys. So any constructive concrit would be great. Thank you.
"Sexual intercourse is kicking death in the ass while singing."
- Charles Bukowski -
The world they're on only has clawfoot tubs in their guest quarters and really, Jamie Kirk is not going to complain about that - it's been weeks since she's taken any sort of bath or shower that's contained actual water. Enterprise was only outfitted with sonic not only to cut down on the cost of her construction, but to be more economical since less duct work in the walls meant less clearance needed and thus larger crew quarters.
However, sonic showers had nothing on the pulsing stream of a faucet and after growing up in Iowa with a mother who had a ridiculous love for antiques (there are, to this day, no shortage of clocks in the Kirk household), she's more than experienced with tubs. Winona had installed one in their bathroom, saying nothing cured ills better than a good soak; Jamie had been about thirteen when she figured out that if she filled up the tub part way, slung her legs over the side and curled up to the faucet, she didn't even need her fingers really to reach orgasm.
Hence the whole not complaining thing because really a bath with actual water plus a delicious orgasm is like having Christmas delivered early on a silver platter covered in gold and dressed with chocolate. (Okay, maybe she's a little eager - cut her some slack, the last person to fuck her was a guy at the last Federation Space Station and that was eight months ago.)
The position is easier to get in now, puberty having culminated in a pair of long legs that she'd seen even Spock ogling now and again. She smirks at the thought of the tiny hint of green that'd colored his features when she'd caught him. She still wonders if she could make him blush hard, make him blush so much his entire body is flushed green.
With the water flowing over her, in her, she lets her mind go into that fantasy. He's a lithe man, but she's seen him dressed down in Medical after a mission gone wrong and seen him in the gym, changing for a workout. The guy is built solidly and he's fucking Vulcan - he could probably bend her over and screw her hard enough she'd feel it in her throat.
She's lost in the image, the idea, of being spread open by strong hands and taken, so she never hears the knock on her door, nor the slide of it as it's opened. She never realizes that a long, low moan could be misconstrued as painful and Spock could rip a door off its hinges in search of his Captain. (There may or may not already be something between them, but that's a tale for another time, damnit - he's a little fixated on the sight before him.)
Jamie moans again, swirling closer to the edge and she whimpers when the water pressure changes, a harder stream sliding over her clit; she opens her eyes suddenly, brain taking a minute to process who she's looking at through the haze of arousal. And whether it's the look in her eyes, the heat in the tiny fledging bond (that she doesn't even acknowledge, thank you very much), or the fact that he is so very close to Pon Farr, she can't say, yet there is Spock, never taking his eyes from her as he strips himself of every shred of clothing.
When he slides into the bath behind her, she can feel the stirrings of his erection, can feel the way he's resisting rutting against her ass as though she'd object; she wants to say something to tell him it's okay – he really doesn't have to hold onto his control so tightly with her – but his hands are sliding over her body, her breasts, her hips, and when they reach her thighs they spread her open once more.
He positions her back under the spout, his chin pressed into the curve of her neck as he watches and listens. Once, after a round of drinks (that someone had snuck theobromine into), he had remarked that it was most logical to be aroused by a mate's pleasure and he stands by that now as Jamie whimpers and gasps into her release, going lax against him with a purr. He notes how relaxed she looks and reminds himself to remember this for later use: Kirk has a wicked habit of winding herself up until she's ready to snap, then taking her foul mood out on whomever is in the gymnasium.
She's still coming down from the high of coming when she's flipped over, two fingers sliding up inside her and Jamie floods with heat all over again. “Bastard,” she grinds out, water sloshing over the sides as she tells him, “Fuck me, Spock.”
Eyes hooded and lit with warmth, his hand comes away from her cunt and his dick replaces it, impossibly warm; his hands go to her hips, steadying her into the first thrust then the second. Rolling his own body up, she realizes he's still holding back and fuck, she can taste in her mouth how much she wants to see him broken of that perfect hold on his emotions. Seriously, that rigid repression of himself has no place during sex and she grins a bit when she leans in to tongue the juncture of his neck, nip at his chin, lick over the psi points she's entirely too familiar with.
It earns her a moan, a twist of his hips that has everything to do with a break in his control.
She grins, mouth on his skin. “Let go, Spock,” she whispers, “I want to see you, want to feel you.”
“You do not understand...” He responds, losing rhythm as he grows closer to the edge of his own orgasm and trying to wait until she's come once more. He wants to finish the sentence, to tell her she has no way of knowing that what she asks for is already close at hand, but she pushes two fingers down over his lips and when he sucks them in, she gives the most jolting, lewd moan.
He snaps, rolling them in the cooling bathwater until her back is against the slope of the tub and her ankles are locked together at his shoulder blades, her hands gripping his shoulders as he lets go. Jamie thinks for only a moment that she's in over her head, then one of his hands is on her face and she can feel his pleasure as sharply as her own. She tightens around him when Spock shows her how badly he's wanted her, how much he's craved the taste of her skin on his tongue and how many fantasies he's harbored involving themselves and a bed.
The peak goes higher and higher until she falls down it once more, coming and feeling when Spock does through the length of the bond that has thickened and connected them more fully. It's like light exploding behind his eyes – a star going nova – and she sees that in more ways than one while he comes down from his release, curls against her in the aftermath as he pulls his hand away.
There's a slight curl of shame floating between them and she knows it will take more than pretty words and platitudes to relieve him of it, so she lets it go for now. Instead she threads a finger through his hair, petting the head tucked neatly to her shoulder while the trembles ease.
“I am sorry,” he murmurs after several minutes have gone by.
“For what? The best sex I've had in years,” she answers, smiling gently at the top of his head.
He doesn't move as he tells her, “I was unnecessarily rough during intercourse and I do not wish you to believe...”
Jamie cuts him off, “Spock?”
“Captain?”
“Shut up. And my name is Jamie – best get that through your head,” she instructs, amusement in her tone as she continues to pet him until he nuzzles (which has to be an unconscious behavior, right?) into her neck; she speaks again, words unchecked, “And if you think that was rough intercourse, I have much to teach you.”
title. While Singing
rating. NC-17
Pairing. Girl!Kirk/Spock
summary. She still wonders if she could make him blush hard, make him blush so much his entire body is flushed green.
warnings. Genderbending - Born a Girl!Kirk
notes. Written for this prompt at
st_xi_kink.I've never written explicit sex for het before, guys. So any constructive concrit would be great. Thank you.
- Charles Bukowski -
The world they're on only has clawfoot tubs in their guest quarters and really, Jamie Kirk is not going to complain about that - it's been weeks since she's taken any sort of bath or shower that's contained actual water. Enterprise was only outfitted with sonic not only to cut down on the cost of her construction, but to be more economical since less duct work in the walls meant less clearance needed and thus larger crew quarters.
However, sonic showers had nothing on the pulsing stream of a faucet and after growing up in Iowa with a mother who had a ridiculous love for antiques (there are, to this day, no shortage of clocks in the Kirk household), she's more than experienced with tubs. Winona had installed one in their bathroom, saying nothing cured ills better than a good soak; Jamie had been about thirteen when she figured out that if she filled up the tub part way, slung her legs over the side and curled up to the faucet, she didn't even need her fingers really to reach orgasm.
Hence the whole not complaining thing because really a bath with actual water plus a delicious orgasm is like having Christmas delivered early on a silver platter covered in gold and dressed with chocolate. (Okay, maybe she's a little eager - cut her some slack, the last person to fuck her was a guy at the last Federation Space Station and that was eight months ago.)
The position is easier to get in now, puberty having culminated in a pair of long legs that she'd seen even Spock ogling now and again. She smirks at the thought of the tiny hint of green that'd colored his features when she'd caught him. She still wonders if she could make him blush hard, make him blush so much his entire body is flushed green.
With the water flowing over her, in her, she lets her mind go into that fantasy. He's a lithe man, but she's seen him dressed down in Medical after a mission gone wrong and seen him in the gym, changing for a workout. The guy is built solidly and he's fucking Vulcan - he could probably bend her over and screw her hard enough she'd feel it in her throat.
She's lost in the image, the idea, of being spread open by strong hands and taken, so she never hears the knock on her door, nor the slide of it as it's opened. She never realizes that a long, low moan could be misconstrued as painful and Spock could rip a door off its hinges in search of his Captain. (There may or may not already be something between them, but that's a tale for another time, damnit - he's a little fixated on the sight before him.)
Jamie moans again, swirling closer to the edge and she whimpers when the water pressure changes, a harder stream sliding over her clit; she opens her eyes suddenly, brain taking a minute to process who she's looking at through the haze of arousal. And whether it's the look in her eyes, the heat in the tiny fledging bond (that she doesn't even acknowledge, thank you very much), or the fact that he is so very close to Pon Farr, she can't say, yet there is Spock, never taking his eyes from her as he strips himself of every shred of clothing.
When he slides into the bath behind her, she can feel the stirrings of his erection, can feel the way he's resisting rutting against her ass as though she'd object; she wants to say something to tell him it's okay – he really doesn't have to hold onto his control so tightly with her – but his hands are sliding over her body, her breasts, her hips, and when they reach her thighs they spread her open once more.
He positions her back under the spout, his chin pressed into the curve of her neck as he watches and listens. Once, after a round of drinks (that someone had snuck theobromine into), he had remarked that it was most logical to be aroused by a mate's pleasure and he stands by that now as Jamie whimpers and gasps into her release, going lax against him with a purr. He notes how relaxed she looks and reminds himself to remember this for later use: Kirk has a wicked habit of winding herself up until she's ready to snap, then taking her foul mood out on whomever is in the gymnasium.
She's still coming down from the high of coming when she's flipped over, two fingers sliding up inside her and Jamie floods with heat all over again. “Bastard,” she grinds out, water sloshing over the sides as she tells him, “Fuck me, Spock.”
Eyes hooded and lit with warmth, his hand comes away from her cunt and his dick replaces it, impossibly warm; his hands go to her hips, steadying her into the first thrust then the second. Rolling his own body up, she realizes he's still holding back and fuck, she can taste in her mouth how much she wants to see him broken of that perfect hold on his emotions. Seriously, that rigid repression of himself has no place during sex and she grins a bit when she leans in to tongue the juncture of his neck, nip at his chin, lick over the psi points she's entirely too familiar with.
It earns her a moan, a twist of his hips that has everything to do with a break in his control.
She grins, mouth on his skin. “Let go, Spock,” she whispers, “I want to see you, want to feel you.”
“You do not understand...” He responds, losing rhythm as he grows closer to the edge of his own orgasm and trying to wait until she's come once more. He wants to finish the sentence, to tell her she has no way of knowing that what she asks for is already close at hand, but she pushes two fingers down over his lips and when he sucks them in, she gives the most jolting, lewd moan.
He snaps, rolling them in the cooling bathwater until her back is against the slope of the tub and her ankles are locked together at his shoulder blades, her hands gripping his shoulders as he lets go. Jamie thinks for only a moment that she's in over her head, then one of his hands is on her face and she can feel his pleasure as sharply as her own. She tightens around him when Spock shows her how badly he's wanted her, how much he's craved the taste of her skin on his tongue and how many fantasies he's harbored involving themselves and a bed.
The peak goes higher and higher until she falls down it once more, coming and feeling when Spock does through the length of the bond that has thickened and connected them more fully. It's like light exploding behind his eyes – a star going nova – and she sees that in more ways than one while he comes down from his release, curls against her in the aftermath as he pulls his hand away.
There's a slight curl of shame floating between them and she knows it will take more than pretty words and platitudes to relieve him of it, so she lets it go for now. Instead she threads a finger through his hair, petting the head tucked neatly to her shoulder while the trembles ease.
“I am sorry,” he murmurs after several minutes have gone by.
“For what? The best sex I've had in years,” she answers, smiling gently at the top of his head.
He doesn't move as he tells her, “I was unnecessarily rough during intercourse and I do not wish you to believe...”
Jamie cuts him off, “Spock?”
“Captain?”
“Shut up. And my name is Jamie – best get that through your head,” she instructs, amusement in her tone as she continues to pet him until he nuzzles (which has to be an unconscious behavior, right?) into her neck; she speaks again, words unchecked, “And if you think that was rough intercourse, I have much to teach you.”
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