#bones aos

[brewingcazuela]

[bearsinpotatosacks]

R rated star trek but there's no sex or gore it's just bones swearing like a sailor. F bombs every sentence

[dira333]

the manly cold

Bones x reader

The first time you meet Leonard McCoy you are in your third year in the Academy and it’s almost a year after Jim Kirk, the troublemaker, has managed to find you yet again.

The first time you meet Leonard McCoy is when Jim, the whiny idiot, manages to call both of you for help at the same time and when you show up in your sweaty work out clothes there’s this handsome guy where your nuisance of a friend from Iowa should be.

“Who are you?” You ask each other at exactly the same time.

“I asked first,” he’s just a tiny bit faster than you.

“Y/N,” you wipe your hand on your trousers and offer it to him, “The girl that beat his ass eleven times in a row.”

“Ah,” he says and in the way he lifts the left corner of his mouth, just the tiniest bit tells you that Jim’s told him about you. That sucker.

“And you?” You ask when he doesn’t speak quick enough for your liking.

“Leonard McCoy. The one guy he keeps pestering.”

“Ah,” you smile and grab his hand to shake it, “You’re the doctor that threw up on him.”

He forces a smile and pulls back his hand and you realize that yes, your flirting skills are indeed hopeless.

.

If you had hoped for Jim’s charm to step in where you lacked in basically everything, you should have known better. Especially on a day like this, when he had summoned you with nothing more but an “I’m dying!” text, a clear sign that he was getting sick.

And as you shove open the door to his room with your regular dose of impatience, he barely lifts his head from his pillow to groan.

“I can’t breathe!” He gasps, his stuffy nose contorting his voice.

“Oh, shut up, that’s just a cold,” Dr. McCoy announces from behind you and steps forward.

“It’s the manly cold,” you explain, making your way over into the small kitchen, “And the only remedies I know are homemade soup and a lot of attention,” You call over your head but stop short when you hear a pained groan.

“I believe in a more advanced therapy,” the Doctor says as he pulls the hypospray away from Jim’s neck.

You smirk. “Who said Doctor’s aren’t worth anything?”

“I don’t know,” he answers calmly, “Who said that?”

Yeah, you definitely need to work on your social skills.

.

A bit more than a year later you graduate from the Academy, leaving behind nothing more but a soup recipe taped to Jim’s fridge and a rather stiff hug.

“Don’t forget to keep in touch,” Jim reminds you.

“I tried that when I left Iowa and you tracked me down anyway,” you joke, “I don’t dare to try it again.”

“I could become your new captain,” he jokes and you hiss in exaggerated shock.

A part of you wants to say goodbye to his friend too. The good-looking, funny in his one way, Doctor friend whose presence has you make a fool of yourself every single time. But then again, it’s probably better this way.

“Tell the Doctor, I said hi,” you tell Jim instead and clap him on the shoulder, “Don’t annoy him too much.”

“He’s gonna have to make my soup.”

“Or you just gonna learn how to do it yourself.”

He rolls his eyes at you. “Just leave.”

.

And that could have been it. That could have been the quirky story you tell over drinks when you go on shore leave about the way you sucked at flirting when you were young.

But Jim had to be Jim. A bit of an ass most of the time, but a genius one.

He called you once a month to complain about the Academy, his workload, a girl that dumped him or just about anything else. His natural charm and the fact that you kind of missed him made it easy to just talk and joke and laugh for the better part of an hour until it was time to hang up and every single time he called it turned out that McCoy had been in the room, out of your sight but always close enough to listen to.

“Don’t call me when you have a friend over,” you chastised him, but he grinned and winked and you knew that he knew that- yeah, better not talk about it.

.

And that could have been it. That could have been your friend from the Academy that tried to set you up with a cute guy in the worst way possible.

But Jim had to be Jim. A total genius with ideas that made him a magnet for everything crazy.

First he almost got thrown out, then he was suddenly on the Enterprise, then he got thrown out - literally - but from the Enterprise and not the Academy and then, you always got that a bit mixed in your head, no matter how many times he told you the story, he met the future self of that green-blooded guy from his ship, but in old and from another timeline… or something like that.

And in a way that only Jim could, he saved the world, his Captain’s life and got, almost like by accident, not only his place in the academy back, but also the position of the Captain, on the Enterprise of all ships.

“I could hire you,” he had told you right away in your next phone call, “You get over here from that murky cold system you’re currently traveling through and work for me. I mean Cupcake’s doing a good job, but I can use more people in Security who can effectively kick my ass.”

“I have a good job here,” you tell him, sparing yourself the Cupcake story for another time.

“I’m sure Bones would like to have you here too,” Jim tried and you glared at him.

“Ask me again when you can be a Captain that doesn’t try to annoy me every five seconds.”

“Deal.”

.

And that could have been it.

But Jim had to be Jim.

And when you picked up another call, it wasn’t his voice coming through, but that of McCoy.

“Listen,” he said with urgency in his voice, “We need you here.”

“What do you mean?”

“The Kid just broke more laws than I can count right now and lied about it in his report. If we’re lucky, he’s going to get a reprimand, but I think he’s running out of luck.”

“I can take my break,” you said, “And be in San Francisco in a week.”

He sighed and you closed your eyes, savoring the fact that this conversation might have a terrible topic, but you wouldn’t have thought of the two of you talking like this to be possible. He seemed to think the same thing.

“Looks like you can talk normally around me after all,” he tried to joke and you can’t help but grunt.

“Looks like you don’t make me that nervous when you’re not standing in the same room as me.”

You bite your tongue and close your eyes in pain.

No, your flirting skills will probably never improve.

“I gotta go, ask for my break. See you… maybe, someday, I don’t know, bye.”

.

But when you show up in San Francisco, you’ve come too late.

The one guy that’s actually willing to tell you something is Jim’s Chief Engineer, Scotty something, who talks a lot and drinks even more.

He lets you sit there, shocked and speechless, as he tells you what has happened, things Jim hasn’t even bothered to mention.

The fact that Christopher Pike died. That Jim went out for revenge.

That, just by a hair’s breadth, none of them would have survived.

And that Jim had not just died but had come back to life again because of some crazy blood thing. Scotty something explained that working with Jim’s sheer amount of luck and the crazy talent their CMO must have.

“Can I go see him?” Are the first words you get out and you’re not entirely sure if you’re only talking about Jim.

“Sure thing, Lassie, just go up and tell them Scotty’s sent you.”

.

When Leonard steps out of Jim’s room, he can’t remember the last time he’s had sleep, but that he needs coffee, urgently. But then he sees you sitting on one of the terrible chairs in the hallways, shoulders slumped, a bag next to your feet.

You jump up the moment you notice him, cross the hallway and hug him with a strength that probably shouldn’t surprise him. You work in security, after all.

“I am so so so so glad he has you as a friend,” you breathe into his shoulder and step back immediately, “I made soup. I know it’s not the manly cold, but it usually helps when Jim complains about being sick and-”

“He’s going to be fine. I hope. I wish. I don’t know, I just…” He lets out a breath. “You make me nervous too.”

He doesn’t know how he expects you to react. You surprise him anyway.

“I don’t know if my soup helps with that too,” you tell him, a smile on your lips, “But if you leave Jim at least half of it, we can try.”

.

Now that could have been it. A story about getting together, just as quirky as each part of the couple itself.

But Jim just had to be Jim.

And now you’re stuck with your husband in a cabin in the middle of snowy nowhere in something that was supposed to be a cozy holiday.

Cozy, because Jim had taken everything medical looking away from Leonard, telling him to relax during his shore leave.

And what had Leonard done?

He had gotten a cold. A manly cold.

“Soup’s ready!” You call from the kitchen and the groaning from the bedroom sounds just the tiniest bit less like dying whale and more like a happy whale.

Well, you’ve got your experience with manly colds, after all.

[graverobber3457]

on one hand i think its funny of mccoy was the token straight on the enterprise, but on the other hand i think it’s equally as funny for mccoy to be like “im in starfleet of course ive had gay sex”

[sufferthesea]

there are only two genders: the boys (karl urban) and the boys in the band (zachary quinto)

[joaquinwhorres]

Treacherous Waters (Leonard McCoy x Reader)

SUMMARY ››››› After finals at Starfleet Academy all of the cadets flock to local bars in search of a good time. Which is exactly where you meet Leonard McCoy. And you are more than willing to show him a good time with the understanding that come Saturday morning he'll be gone, and you'll never see him again. Which is exactly what happens...until five years later your starship has a massive failure and the only ship around to save you is the Enterprise.

WORD COUNT ››››› 3,072

WARNINGS ››››› Drinking and mentions of sexy times. 

A/N ››››› Sooooo originally this was just supposed to be a “dancing in a bar with Leonard McCoy” fic but then I got an idea and well, it’s this. 

Prefer OC’s? Read it on AO3.

Finals Week at Starfleet Academy was a glorious occasion.

Or perhaps, more accurately, the Friday evening after Finals Week at Starfleet Academy was a glorious occasion. Because the Friday night of Finals Week was when the beautiful, young, pent up cadets flooded the local bars in desperate search for some unbridled fun.

Which Y/N was more than happy to provide

"Kirk's here," Kiesh hissed, her fingers digging into Y/N's arm in her excitement. Y/N flinched, and Kiesh released her quickly, but was too distracted to mutter an apology, her gaze fixated on the near mythical figure of San Francisco nightlife.

The tales that followed Jim Kirk were outlandish and obscene and wholly captivating.

There was the story of his birth aboard the USS Kelvin minutes before his father saved the lives of everyone who'd been aboard the ship.

There was the story of how he'd earned his spot in the Academy by taking on three security Lieutenants in a fist fight and walking away with no more than a bloody nose.

And of course there were the stories of his romantic conquests. Although romantic was probably not the right word for it. Carnal, sensual, lustful, and erotic all seemed a bit more descriptive of what transpired between Jim Kirk and the girls of San Francisco.

And like any mythical figure, these tales were enough to warn off a good number of girls from falling into his sheets...while prompting others to search for him to either worship or conquer themselves.

Kiesh fell firmly in the later category. She was no Kirk acolyte, but he had become a point of fixation for her because he was what no other man had been to her--unattainable.

Y/N scanned the crowd for the golden haired casanova, but the bar was too packed. It was an ocean of voices and species and color, all flowing to the electric undercurrent that ran throughout the bar. Y/N's eyes caught on the blood red uniforms of cadets too eager to indulge their youth to waste any time by going home and changing clothes.

Two palms pressed into either side of Y/N's face as her roommate turned her attention away from the cadets, past groups of people wearing the colorful and patterned designs native to their home planet, and to the end of the neon purple bar. There, just visible between the bodies of two friends having a chugging contest, was Jim Kirk with his head thrown back laughing.

"He's gorgeous," Y/N murmured. She'd figured he had to be, but it was one thing to hear about Adonis and another thing completely to see him in person. Kiesh's hands fell from Y/N's head, allowing the other girl to turn back to her. "I'll see you tomorrow then?"

"I might not make it to breakfast." A coy smile curled Kiesh's lips up as she started off through the crowd, disappearing amongst the crowd.

Y/N followed her progress, watching the other girl choose a space at the bar directly in Kirk's line of sight, sliding into the chair and tossing her long purple hair over one shoulder to reveal the expanse of skin from her neck to her chest, and then below the crop top.

And then she waited.

Watching Kiesh work was a sight to behold. Each trap was delicately set, carefully tailored to the man she'd picked on that given night. She planned each movement--the way she walked, the angle of her body against the bar, the look she painted on her face--to snag men like a siren, luring them into her dangerous waters.

As much as she wanted to see this play out, Y/N had other more important things to accomplish.  Like finding her own catch for the night. And she wasn't going to do that by standing in one spot all night.

If Kiesh was a siren, then Y/N was a shark, moving constantly throughout the room in search of the perfect prey. She weaved in and out of small groups, eyes scanning the members therein. There were groups of friends laughing together, cadets challenging each other to drinking games, girls who like her and Kiesh came with one purpose in mind, and others who came to have a good time by themselves, cadets be damned.

But it wasn't until her fourth slow, methodical lap that she saw him. Or rather, she saw Kirk slap him on the back with a large grin before making his way over to where Kiesh leaned on her elbows. More than the broadness of his shoulders, the tussle of dark hair, and the deep red color of his uniform, it was the scowl he was shooting at Kirk's back that caught her attention and drew her across the bar to him as if smelling blood in the water.

"You look like a man who doesn't dance," Y/N said, folding her arms on the back of what was once Kirk's chair. It took him almost three seconds to realize that she was talking to him, and when he did, he lifted his eyebrows--the look an interesting combination of amusement and apprehension.

"Well, that's a first," he remarked. There was just a trace of an accent under his words that Y/N couldn't quite place.

"I highly doubt I'm the first person to notice," Y/N said, rocking on the balls of her feet. "Unless of course I'm wrong, and you're constantly barraged with requests to hit the dance floor."

He exhaled a laugh, the sound sailing past his lips, and into the glass he lifted up to his mouth. "You're not wrong," he said, taking a sip of his liquor and then placing it back down on the bar in front of him.

"Didn't think so. I rarely am."

He gave her a cautious look out of the corner of his eye as if still unsure where this conversation was going and why she was talking to him. As if people chatted up strangers in bars just to pass the time.

"So, since you don't dance, that begs the obvious question…what's a man like you doing in a place like this?"

He cracked a smile then, slowly tilting his head to look at her, really look at her, for the first time. "Shouldn't I be asking you that question?"

"Only if you subscribe to archaic 20th century gender norms," Y/N shrugged, smiling back at him. "Besides," she leaned closer, tipping her head towards his conspiratorially, and he shifted closer as well. "I don't think it's much of a mystery for me. I mean, look at our clothes."

His eyes wandered down to her deep V halter before seeming to realize he was still in his reds. "Fair point," he conceded, pulling back a little to take another sip of his drink.

"So?"

"A friend dragged me out," he admitted, eyes sliding back over to her. She raised both of her eyebrows as if she was surprised and didn't see Kirk abandoning him just five minutes ago.

"And left you to fend for yourself in a dive like this?" She shook her head as if scandalized by the idea. "You need better friends."

The cadet snorted and nodded his head. "You've got that right."

"Well, you're very lucky I found you before another girl did," Y/N said, a smirk tugging at the corner of her mouth.

"That so?"

She nodded. "They may try to take advantage of you in such a defenseless state. All alone by the bar nursing a...what is that, whiskey?"

"Bourbon, actually." His eyes sparkled with an intoxicating warmth similar to the liquor he was drinking.

Y/N rolled her eyes lightly. "Same thing."

"Only technically."

"Technicalities are everything," she grinned. "Anyway, I'm willing to offer my protective services as a long time San Francisco resident to navigate these treacherous waters."

"You're from here?" he asked, genuine curiosity overtaking his features for the first time in their conversation. Y/N's smile turned a bit strained, but she nodded.

"Not quite. But I've been here for fifteen years. Just haven't figured out how to drop the accent," she shrugged.

"So are you from England then?" he asked, and she nodded.

"Next round's on me if you can guess where."

"Lon…" he started, and a grin grew across Y/N's face before he switched course. "Birmingham?"

She shook her head. "London."

"You tricked me," he accused lightly, his brow furrowing slightly but into more of mock offense and surprise at her cunning than anything else.

"You're highly suggestible," she shook her head, fighting to keep a smile down. "Which brings me back to the fact that you absolutely cannot remain alone in this bar tonight. It's far too dangerous for you."

"Guess I'll have to take you up on that offer then, darlin'." His smile was more subtle--apparently the fight to keep it off his face was going better for him.

"Y/N," she corrected, lifting her hand to offer it to him.

The man took it, his fingers surprisingly soft for a cadet. "Leonard," he answered.

Y/N let her hand linger in his, not pulling back until his grip loosened and his fingers trailed against hers to go back around his glass. She leaned her elbow on the back of the chair, placing her chin on top of her hand. "So Leonard," she asked. "Are you going to buy me a drink or am I working for free?"

He smirked, lifting a hand to call the bartender over as Y/N slid into the seat next to him, leaning her arms against the smooth chrome bar. The Tellarite bartender made his way over, and Leonard looked at Y/N.

"Well are you going to order or sit there staring at each other?" the bartender snapped. Leonard shot him a dirty look, and Y/N snorted.

"I'll have a Samarian Sunset on his tab," she ordered, pointing a finger at Leonard, and the man grunted. Leonard still looked rather displeased with the exchange but ordered himself another bourbon. The bartender walked away grumbling, and even Leonard looked rather grumpy.

"You know that's just his way of greeting right?" Y/N asked, pushing a lock of hair behind her ear. "Tellarites consider it polite to attempt to start an argument when meeting someone. If he wasn't mildly insulting I would have been majorly insulted."

"And I thought you were kidding about being a guide."

"I would never," Y/N said with mock indignation, placing a hand over her heart. "Leonard, I take my promise to you very seriously. I will be at your side all night."

"All night?" he repeated, raising an eyebrow with a smirk.

"All night," Y/N repeated with a nod, keeping her eyes locked on Leonard. He met her gaze with an intensity that made her stomach twist with delight.  And of course it was right then that bartender reappeared.

He placed a martini glass full of clear liquid in front of Y/N, and a rocks glass with amber liquor in front of Leonard before making a derisive noise in his throat and walking away. Leonard didn't seem to mind as much this time.

"Cheers," Y/N said, reaching forward with her glass, and Leonard clinked his against hers, lifting it to his lips. She watched intently as she swirled her own drink so that a luminescent gold wisp spiraled out, turning the clear liquor the color of a burning sun. He pulled the glass from his lips, and she returned her attention to her own drink, taking a slow sip before placing it back down on the bar.

"So, Leonard," Y/N let the name roll off her tongue teasingly. "Tell me about yourself. Where are you from? What are you studying?"

"I'm a medical student," he said, setting his own glass down. "And I'm from Georgia."

"Ooh, a doctor and a southern gentleman," Y/N teased, shimmying her shoulders. "My mother would be so proud of me."

"Who said I'm a gentleman?" he asked with raised eyebrows, leaning closer to her. Y/N's mouth fell open slightly before she caught herself, stopping her body from melting completely right there in the seat.

"Don't threaten me with a good time, Leonard," she quipped, taking a sip of her drink.

"If you didn't want a good time then why did you come over here?" he asked, and Y/N grinned at him.

"Because you look like a man who doesn't dance."

"Well darlin," Leonard started, his eyes sparkling with the slightest bit of mischief and a look on his face that was enough to make something delicious twist in the pit of Y/N's stomach. "The night's still young."

The night grew in both the amount of time passed and the amount of drinks finished. It was hard to state exactly how much of either had slipped away from the two of them as their glasses had been cleared a few times, but the world was just a bit lighter and hazier at the edges than was usual and the crowd slightly thinner than it had been when Y/N entered.

"Well, darlin'," Leonard's accent had grown heavier with the liquor, words dripping like molasses from his lips. "I should be gettin' back before curfew."

Y/N exhaled, the sound somewhere between a laugh and a sigh. "Leonard," she said slowly, dragging out the word. Her own accent adding a richness to her words that had been precise and sharp earlier in the evening. "I thought I made it quite clear that I wasn't leaving your side all night, so you can't go running off to the dorms on me now."

"Need me to walk you home?" he asked, pausing from putting on his coat to settle the tab.

"Such a southern gentleman," the words rolled like waves from her, her voice rising and falling as he lifted an eyebrow at the screen he was signing. "Yes, I require an accompaniment home," she mocked. "And then I need you to pick a side you want me on for the next part of our night: top or bottom."

Leonard's eyes darkened, pupils blown wide before grabbing her hand and leaving the bar behind.

The cab ride to her apartment was...restrained. The two of them sat shoulder to shoulder in the backseat, eyes focused ahead through the windshield. Even as Y/N's hand drifted from her own lap into his, venturing up his thigh, both of them remained focused on the passing San Francisco streets. Leonard's hand came on top of her own. "Just wait, darlin'," he said, his words dripping with the richness of molasses as he folded his hand around hers.

"It's not polite to make a lady wait," Y/N quipped, shooting him a look out of the corner of her eye.

He snorted but made no attempt at a retort, instead patiently holding her hand until the cab stopped. Y/N opened her door, dragging Leonard by the hand and towards her apartment building.

The ride on the elevator was just as restrained as the cab drive, only instead of the beautiful lights of downtown, the pair stared at their distorted reflection in the sleek chrome doors.

There was a hum in the elevator though. Inaudible, but she could feel it singing across her skin, radiating from each part of her body that touched Leonard's. She bit her lip, and could feel Leonard look down at her. She allowed her gaze to slide over to him, drifting up to his face, meeting his eyes, already dark and boring into hers.

He opened his mouth to say something, but the doors slid open, pulling their attention away from each other and out of the elevator.

The pair walked down the hallway, stopping outside of her door so she could punch in the code. It took two tries for her to get it before the door clicked and she pushed it open, revealing her dark apartment. Y/N ventured in first, turning to invite Leonard in, but she'd barely opened her mouth before her face was in his hands, and he was walking her back into the wall.

The light switch jammed into her shoulder blade, and she felt a bit off balance, but his lips moved over hers with such a ferocity, it pushed everything else from her mind. Instead, all she could focus on was the feeling of his lips against hers, the taste of the sharp tang of alcohol he'd been drinking all evening. He invaded her senses, making it impossible to think of anything other than pulling him closer to her.

Y/N wound her fingers into his hair, urging him nearer to her, which he did, stepping forward, and moving a hand from her face to her waist, pulling her flush against him. His other hand wandered down to her chest as his lips began a journey down the curve of her neck. "I don't usually do this type of thing," he murmured against her skin.

"Go home with--ah--a strange woman from the--fu--the bar?" Y/N panted, pushing her hips into his for a taste of the friction she needed.

He pulled himself away from her collarbone to look up at her with hooded eyes. "Exactly."

"You're missing out," Y/N grinned, chest heaving. "Now take off your clothes so I can prove it to you."

The rest of the evening passed in a blur of bare skin and desperate sounds and more pleasure than Y/N had gotten out of a night out in a while.

It almost made her sad to see him go in the morning. Almost.

But him leaving was always a part of her plan for Saturday morning. Whether it was before or after breakfast, he would walk out of her apartment, never to be seen again. Instead, he'd fade into a memory of lips trailing against skin, fingers tangling in hair, bed frame rattling into the wall.

At least that's what was supposed to happen.

She wasn't supposed to see him again.

And she especially wasn't supposed to see him in a starship's transporter room, rushing towards her as she pressed her hand into Kiesh's side, desperate to keep the blood inside of her friend's body and not spilling out onto the transporter pad. He wasn't supposed to be there. And neither was she.

[dreaming-about-fanfictions]

Hi! May I please have a Star Trek match up? I am blonde, blue eyed, and 5’5”. Personality wise, my friends say I’m witty, practical, confident, and a tad impatient. I am more on the reserved and shy side and I’m very loyal. Also, I’m a tea/coffee and a good book in a corner on a rainy day kind of gal. Thank you for your time, and I hope you’re having a fantastic day 😊

Leonard McCoy would be the perfect match for you!

You work together on the Enterprise and Leonard has the biggest crush for you since you came on board. However, the only times you talk to each other is when you end up in medical bay and asking you out there seems a tad unprofessional to him. Besides, you hardly talk to him when you’re there so he believes you wouldn’t be interested anyways. What he doesn’t know – you wouldn’t mind getting to know the Doctor better. Not at all. But you always end up getting flustered and don’t know what to say.

This goes on for quite some time until Scotty finds out about Leonards crush on you and one day on shore leave, when you go out for some drinks, he manages it to sit Leonard next to you in a bar. In this environment, you feel much more relaxed and so you start talking to him – and only him – for the rest of the night. Both of you seem to have forgotten your friends and colleagues. You talk about work, your interests, your pasts and end up in his chambers at the end of the night.

You start dating quickly. Leonard is impressed by how confident and kind you really are. He learns that you would do anything for your friends and family and falls in love with you even faster. Being around you calms him down and honestly – his nurses and patients secretly thank you for that. You are both a little hot-headed and impatient, so you get annoyed quickly. He does too. But that doesn’t last for very long and it’s never about something serious.

Leonard is serious about you. He might not believe in soulmates but if he did, he’s pretty sure that you would his. You feel like this about him and there’s never a doubt in your mind when it comes to your relationship. You simply know that it was meant for you two to spend your life together.

***

I hope you like it and are having a fantastic day as well! <3

[whatsgoingg-on]

science blue (pt. 3)