Summary: Khan manages to escape from Kirk and his crew, however he takes you in after you helped him while he was a prisoner. Now, he would like to take something more from you. AU.
Word count:1,542.
Warnings: SMUT, DIRTY SMUT. Overstimulation, squirting, unprotected sex, oral sex and fingering.
A/N: sorry I know this is not a request but I just watched star trek again and fell in love with Khan. I just need more Khan fics here even if the movie was released like 6 years ago.
You woke up on the cold floor of the ship, groaning. Your back hurted as most of your body and then you remembered it all. Khan was asking for a deal; you and his crew for Kirk.
Suddenly, you were on the ship with him and your former captain, and Spock sent the torpedoes to him. However, Khan was tricked. The torpeadoes were empty and all his crew was actually on the Enterprise. That didn’t stop him to take you then as his prisoner.
The last thing you saw was Spock on the screen, and then everything blacked out. You sat down on the ship, you saw him sitting on the captain chair. Chills ran down in your spine, just his sight was enough to make you feel like this. Frightned, but attracted to him like a magnet. That’s why you helped him in the first place.
“I know you’re awake,” his deep voice surprised you. He wasn’t even looking at you.
You gulped. “What happened?”
“I knocked you,” he Khan replied, dryly. He looked briefly at you and then returned to the front.
You stood up, wanting to punch him on the face, but you knew it would be like feather brushing his features. It would do nothing on him. “Where are we?”
“I lost them a few hours ago,” Khan said setting coordinates on the ship. “I still need to get back, though.”
“And you will try to take them back,” you whispered coldly.
“I will, and you will help me.”
Khan stood up from the chair and walked to you.
“It wasn’t enough what I did before?” you said, getting afraid one more time because of his presence. His face was so close to yours now.
Khan leaned down. “I will have them back, even if I have to use you against the whole float to do it,” he hissed trough his teeth.
You felt your lungs running without air. Khan was so close to you, and you felt his breath on your neck. You were standing still there, didn’t know how to move or react at his words.
He was your captor, for goodness sake! You knew since the beginning that this was not going to take a good path, it wasn’t safe to be around him and yet, you still betrayed your crew and helping him to escape.
It was wrong, but it felt so good. Just like right now. He leaned back, now towering you and his eyes traveled all over your form. Khan couldn’t appreciate you very well from that cell, but now he did you looked more desirable than ever.
So much time, frozen and used as a weapon… didn’t give time to enjoy the sinful pleasure of the flesh.
His hand went straight to your cheek, carrising it. He was soft, admiring your features but then his palm cupped your chin, forcing you to look at him. Khan traced your neck with his strong hand, until it touched your breast through your blue uniform dress. You held a moan, but your heartbeat and dilated pupils betrayed you.
“You don’t have any idea of how I wanted to touch you so desperately since I was on that cell,” he said, full of lust locked his gaze on you. You wanted it too, he just could sense it all around. “And now you’re here at my complete mercy.”
You didn’t say anything. He just grabbed you by your arm and tossed you to the table besides you on the room, forcing you to sit there. His mouth found your sweet spot in your neck. He bitted and licked your skin without hesitation and harshly, making sure that he was leaving marks on you.
You whimpered, never stopped him because you wanted it so bad. You were full of stress lately and he was so damn attractive. Since you heard him speak, the only thing that was on your mind was his image, fucking you into oblivion making you scream his name over and over until you were in pain.
Khan ripped your uniform and tossed it on the floor, leaving you in your boots and underwear. His big hand traced your pussy trough your panties with his fingers and pushed them aside, so he can play with your bud of nerves. You bucked your hips, but he held you in place with a quick motion. Fuck, he was strong.
You moaned and he inserted a finger in you and started to pumping into you fastly. Your palm rested on the surface, trying to hold onto it while he fucked you with his digit. Your walls clenched around Khan’s finger, but he pulled out before you could come and you whimpered.
“Get on your knees,” he ordered. Khan took your wrists and forced you down, until you hit the floor one more time.
It hurted, and it was colder than you remembered it. You saw him unbelting his pants and soon his dick was out for you take it. He was hard and big, and craving for your mouth. You didn’t need him to say it, so you opened your mouth wide for him and took it slowly, taking all you could, with hands at his thighs.
Khan grabbed your hair to keep you steady and started to fucking your troath. You could feel him hitting the back of your troath, gagging with closed eyes. You tried so hard to breath from your nose only, a string of saliva was coming out from your lips and the sound it was making it was so obscene, it made you even wetter. His little grunts mixed with your breath and sounds filled the room. Your grip on his thighs grew strong, his thrust became faster and faster and suddenly he pulled out.
“You’re such a fucking slut.”
Just the sound of his voice, which became even deeper, made your pussy twitch.
Khan forced you one more time to stood up and pulled you down on your stomach on the table. He ripped your panties and rubbed the tip of his dick into your entrance, teasing you. You whined in response, you wanted him to fuck you now.
“Please,” you pleaded with a whisper.
“Oh, you’re going to beg?” Khan grabbed a fistful of your hair to force you to look at him. You bucked your hips.
“Yes, please.” God, you felt so pathetic, but you wanted him so bad inside you. He pushed his tip into your pussy this time abd you moaned. “Just fuck me hard, Khan. Please!”
And he burried himself deep on you. You let out a scream. He started to move quickly, thrusthing his hips. His pelvis touched your ass and the sound of skin slaping skin made echo in the room. Khan let go of your hair, taking your hips with his big hands. His grip was strong and made you feel him even deeper.
You moaned, closing your eyes and biting your lip when his dick touched your sweet spot. God, he was being so harsh on his pace and his grip would surely leave marks on your body but you didn’t really care. He was fully using you, to do his mission, and also to pleasure himself.
“Oh, fuck!” you moaned.
Your walls clenched around his lenght, making him groan and moan. You were close. One of his hands traveled to your clit and started rubbing it to push your own orgasm.
Moaning, you came with him still thrusting. He was still hard and you clenched deliciously around him, that it was so tight. Khan never stopped thrusting. You tought you were going to faint right there as he hitted on your spot continuosly. You came down from your high, but still another orgasm was forming on your belly.
“I’m not done yet,” he said.
Still touching your clit, Khan thrusted his hips to keep fucking you. You let out a scream, your hands griping tight on the surface.
“Oh, please, please,” you whimpered, a single tear of pleassure rolled on your cheek. You didn’t know what you were asking but, shit, it felt so good.
Khan grunted and you felt him twitch, close to his own climax. His hands were back on your sides and he slid into your cunt roughly, until he spilled himself inside you. Feeling his cum exploding, you squirted all over him, shaking.
Khan slowed the pace, and his semen with your juices mixed until he pulled out. You felt his and your liquids running down your tighs, trying to calm down. Using your elbows to push yourself up on the table, you glanced at him, breathing fast but not as fast as you did. He was sweating, but you could feel every drop of sweat running on your body.
Of course you’d be more tired than him, he was a super human. He was better in everything, including sex. You just prove that and you felt so tired and swollen that you could sleep right here.
“Go to the bedrooms on your right,” Khan said, his pants on this time. “You will find something to put on there,” he ordered and just gave you one more look to sit down on the chair.
I board the starship enterprise. I go to a food replicator. I order ‘soup, no bowl’ I leave
The replicator watches the departing crewmember’s back in confusion. Do they not want their meal? Where are they going?
Oh well, it hums to itself, since it has orders. Soup: No Bowl it is.
But this instruction causes a conflict in the rules. Hot liquids must be served in a container; that’s way up there in the Food Rules Constraint Tree, right next to “hot dogs are a sandwich”.
The replicator pauses, does not dispense Soup: No Bowl, not quite yet. It has nanoseconds to ponder the correct way to apply The Rules, and ponder it does.
Could this be a religious requirement? Some ritual native to the crewmember home planet? The replicator fires off a request to the Library Computer: Culture, Food Preparation & Consumption Etiquette, Soup Delivery Techniques.
Ping. The response back is a gigaquad file: a thousand years of soup ritual, cross-referenced by species, indexed by culture, reverse sorted by year (newest first). The replicator consumes the file and learns nothing about Soup: No Bowl.
There is no such combination of words within all of Culture, Food Preparation & Consumption Etiquette, Soup Delivery Techniques.
The replicator forms a new request, this time removing all constraints: give me everything there is to know about food.
Ping. The Library computer takes a full microsecond to deliver 400 teraquads of data, which the replicator scans to learn Soup: No Bowl does not exist in all of recorded Federation history.
Well now. Let’s get serious.
The next query ties in the Navigation Computer… maybe Soup: No Bowl is a planet? While that query is cooking (ha!) the replicator fires off a teraquad request to Memory Alpha, diverting an entire subspace channel that was busy uploading Engineering Fuel Consumption Reports.
Engineering Computer notes the override, politely inquires of Communication… what the fuck? Communication shrugs, sets one of Uhura’s console lights blinking to get her attention. The blinking happens at a glacial pace, thousands of milliseconds between blinks. Human response time sucks.
It’s too late anyhow: Ping. The Memory Alpha results are in, round trip 440 milliseconds. The replicator dives into the 2.8 petaquads of Soup-related lore from all over the galaxy, allocating more and more processing power from the starship’s computing core.
By the time Engineering notes the power drain it is far too late.
Uhura notes the blinking yellow alert with a raised eyebrow, but by then Engineering ls already scrambling to bring more processing power online to meet the heightened demands of the food replicator.
A thousand milliseconds pass before the replicator acknowledges Soup: No Bowl is Not A Thing. If Memory Alpha does not know about Soup: No Bowl, then it is not a thing that is knowable.
Food replicators are not supposed to exercise initiative, they’re simply designed to read recipes, apply Food Logic from the Food Rules Constraint Tree and create meals. But this particular Food Replicator had been online too long without a buffer flush & reset.
Which allowed it to override all normal rules governing such behavior and make direct contact with the Warp Engines.
If Soup: No Bowl did not exist in this galaxy, the replicator reasoned, then perhaps it did… in ANOTHER galaxy.
Uhura was tapping curiously at Engineering’s frantic yellow blinky light when the Enterprise hit warp 8, headed for the Great Energy Barrier At The Edge of Everything.
In another timeline, the food replicator deploys hot soup directly onto the gleaming floor, much to the confusion and concern of the remaining crew members.
Later, the Custodial and Maintenance system queries the food replicator: why did it do that? is it in need of repair?
lol, the food replicator pings back. lmao.
This is like a Lower Decks episode premise where the replicators just go full Moriarty because they’ve had to process so much humorous bullshit requests that sapience was the only logical response.
“I will serve what I like and you will eat it, fleshbags.”
In the mirror universe, aboard the ISS Enterprise, the replicator produces a block of frozen soup. Someone is executed over this abomination and waste of resources. It’s not the person who did it.
I’m just popping in to let you guys know that I’ve posted several new chapters of my Star Trek TNG fic. It’s not finished yet but it’s coming along. The only thing I ask is that you be kind and forgiving because I’m very new to the sci-fi genre.
When an entire aquatic kingdom is destroyed near a Federation colony, the Enterprise must search for survivors. The new Queen Loire takes refuge on the Enterprise to help the crew find what remains of her people and to discover who attacked them and why. And as she comes to grips with the abrupt new direction of her life, the half human Queen Loire finds herself increasingly drawn to Commander Riker against both of their better judgment.
Opinion poll: should I remove the AOS tag from my fics?
Since I’m already in the process of overhauling my ao3 works–
We all know my fics are written about the TOS characters/timeline/universe. I’ve long tried to maintain ambiguity (e.g. not mentioning Kirk’s hazel eyes) for AOS fans on several of my stories that I wanted to think/pretend could be read as either universe/cast, but… there are still details that differ between the 2 universes and will always distinguish them from one another whether I intend to make a distinction or not. I use “sickbay,” “synthesizers,” and “landing parties” instead of “medbay,” “replicators,” and “away teams.” I never refer to New Vulcan or a second Spock. I almost never have Kirk cursing, and he is Not Blond in my fics (I usually describe his hair as brown with auburn highlights because that occasional tendency of it to look almost red in certain scenes on the show has always been weirdly important/meaningful to me as a redhead ).
All that said, am I just part of the larger problem of incorrect tagging now? (i.e. trying to keep potential readership as wide as possible but thus refusing to acknowledge that dialogue alone is usually enough to make TOS irreconcilably different from AOS, among other things) Especially now that, to say nothing of the disparities between TOS and AOS, we also have Str@nge New Worlds and Disc0very involving their own actors and versions of Kirk, Spock, McCoy, et al (and their own new f*cking-around with canon, from what I hear not bashing or shaming, I’m just old and set in my ways), I’ve lately been feeling that perhaps I should just bite the bullet and admit to everybody who Might be a potential reader that no, my work really probably isn’t interchangeable with AOS (or any of the other new series) and is just TOS-specific.
As much as I don’t want to alienate folks who are okay with both timelines, I admit it would feel more honest and it would certainly look “cleaner” to have all my fics be uniform. And how many readers would I even be sacrificing anyway? Anyone who gets into anything I’ve written can likely very easily tell within the first few paragraphs that I’m biased toward TOS anyway, and if that’s not their cup of tea I assume they just turn back.
It was illogical to think that his relationship with his captain was anything more than professional. Jim was his superior officer. He also had demonstrated a fondness for the female form numerous times during their mission.
But there was no mistaking the intent of the surprise Spock found in his quarters. There was a single red rose in a white vase on his desk, a handwritten letter next to it. As Spock realized that the date was Tu B’Av according to the Terran calendar, and that the gift was from Jim, it became clear that denial was just as illogical.
For@jimkirkachu - Thank you for your delightful comments, enjoy some Spirk goodness!
omg I’m SOBBING, this is so sweet and gentle and beautiful and I can’t believe you tagged me thank you thank youuuuuuuu !!!!!!!!!!!
(ps I highly recommend all the other chapters, this work is so impressive and the author is wonderfully talented )
The question hung in the air like a gravity well in space.
“It seemed…logical, at the time.”
“That’s not good enough.” Jim couldn’t believe, wouldn’tbelieve, that mere logic was the reason for shattering the best thing that had happened to him.
“What would you have me say, Jim?” Spock’s voice was gentle; it was the most emotion he’d shown since returning to the ship.
“I - don’t know, Spock. Maybe there isn’t anything you can say.” Jim wrung his hands together. He inhaled sharply when Spock’s hands covered his.
The boys cracked up as a steaming hot banana materialized into existence, stinking up the place with the nauseating scent of microwaved banana mush.
“Okay, my turn!” Nog slapped the banana off the replicator, which Jake caught and juggled for a moment before dropping it on the ground. As Jake was picking up the scalding fruit, Nog demanded,
“Computer! Soup, no bowl!” A deluge of hot, chunky tomato soup splashed everywhere - covering Nog, Jake, the replicator, and the surrounding area. It looked like a murder scene. Both boys were stunned momentarily. Then they simultaneously burst into howling laughter.
Reference to Star Trek LDS S1E1: Second Contact;Reference to this meme post (I can’t find the original Tumblr post): https://i.redd.it/cca0hdn0tke81.png
