/r/ moar non-TOS porn? Some Picard/Q, Geordi/Data, or Bashir/Garak?

(Not that I dislike TOS, of course. It's my favorite series. Just in the mood for other pairings lately.)

>>53060

Ha. I met him at DragonCon one year, and I basically just stood there and stuttered like an idiot.

I have some Q/Picard fanfic somewhere, should I go dig it out?

>>53904
lol I like Q as a bottom.

>>53969

Mmm I like bottom Q too. There's a ton of Picard/Q fic out there though. There's a bunch here for starters:

http://varoneeka.tripod.com/anon.htm

But alas, no fanart that I can find. Anyone care to fix this?

>>53912

Dig it out, by all means.

All the porny stories I have are pretty long; I'll see if I can find something. Meanwhile, this:

Carnal Pleasures

By Andraste

"Will you have sex with me?"

Captain Jean-Luc Picard prided himself on his ability to remain coherent in the face of Q's sharpest barbs, but unfortunately the direct approach proved the death of his eloquence.

"What?"

Q leaned forward from his perch on ready room desk, making the most of their height difference, and repeated the question slowly in a tone that suggested Picard must have been stricken deaf or unable to understand English.

"Will you have sexual intercourse with me? I've tried to be circumspect in my advances, but it didn't seem to be working so I thought I might as well ask. I would say 'please' but I'm only required to do that when I want something. In this case I believe I would be doing you a favor."

Picard sighed. In spite of his initial skepticism, he had come to believe that Q - who had appeared stark naked on his bridge three months beforehand - had indeed been cast out by his own species and rendered mortal.

He had seen the entity alarmed by the functioning of his own physical form, although that had become less frequent over time. He had received Deanna's confirmation that she could sense his emotions, or a flawless imitation of such. He had heard the arrogant creature ask - with a brave attempt at politeness and more than a hint of desperation - to stay on the Enterprise on a trial basis after the initial drama surrounding his arrival concluded.

More to the point none of Q's games had ever continued for so long. The captain had trouble believing that the entity was capable of sustaining a charade for such an extended period without becoming bored.

"Q, why the devil are you asking me to ... go to bed with you?"

"You humans - *we* humans, I suppose - seem to enjoy sex. I'm running out of new things to try that you use to compensate for your pathetic mortal condition. As a raison d'etre chocolate lacks a certain something, and I fail to understand why anyone would voluntarily become drunk. Especially after the part with the vomiting, which is something I intend to never experience again."

Picard wondered idly if he could demote whoever had introduced Q to alcohol on general principles, before realizing that it had probably been Guinan taking an oblique form of revenge.

The captain had only allowed Q to remain aboard after they had gotten rid of the Calamarain and saved Bre'el IV because he wanted to keep an eye on him. It hadn't escaped his attention that this was exactly what Q had demanded just before he set the Borg on them. Just before he became responsible for the deaths of eighteen of Picard's crew.

To his considerable irritation, he had found Q's extensive knowledge of the galaxy and its inhabitants useful so far. No more old enemies had turned up to endanger the ship, and Q had even become relatively well-behaved under Data's tutelage. He was still rude, arrogant and impatient but he had at least accepted that changing the gravitational constant of the universe wasn't a viable approach to problem-solving.

Moreover, Picard couldn't help but feel some sympathy for Q in his reduced circumstances. He had behaved abominably during his previous encounters with the Enterprise, but he seemed genuinely wiling to help the crew now. His abilities, although merely mortal, were impressive. Q found some measure of solace in his continued intellectual superiority to Starfleet's finest, and once he had recovered somewhat from the initial shock he had gone back to treating Picard with a mixture of subtle menace and far from subtle flirtatiousness. Knowing that much of it was bravado now helped the captain to ignore this behavior more successfully than he had in the past ... at least most of the time.

Which brought him back to the subject at hand.

"Actually, that wasn't what I meant. I quite understand that you have a human libido now, but why are you asking *me*?"

What he meant was: what have I done to deserve this?

"I have been experimenting on my own, but evidently there are more possibilities with two people. I asked Data, but he says he's not qualified. You certainly seem to be that, mon capitaine. I looked into your background while I was still omnipotent, so I know that you've had sex with several men and far more women. I also know that you have been celibate for some time now, and that you find this form attractive."

If he had been omnipotent himself, Picard would have chosen that moment to sink into the floor, or explode, or quietly cease to exist. Q knew - had always known - about Picard's entirely unwilling attraction to him. This was clearly at the back of all the teasing, something the captain had long dreaded ...

Then it occurred to him that he was not, in fact, being laughed at. He was being propositioned. By a former god, who had now been made mortal, helpless and virginal, causing him to throw himself upon Picard's mercy ... and this was in no way an appropriate thought. Even if Q couldn't read his mind anymore.

Apparently, though, he could read Picard's expression. He was sitting quietly, awaiting a response. He *could* simply point out that physical attraction wasn't the same as emotional attachment, of course, or explain that he'd actually enjoyed a dalliance with an attractive archeologist in the interval since Q had ceased to be all-knowing. Yet outright rejection might only make him more persistent.

"Q, it would not be right of me to take advantage of you ..."

"Oh, please, Picard. I expect you to come up with something better than that. I am not a member of Starfleet. I can also assure you that although I may be unfamiliar with how these things work for mortals, I happen to be several billion years old and more than able to look after myself."

Picard wondered if that was true at all now, remembering Q's admission that the captain was the nearest thing he had to a friend and protector. He hadn't made any similar declarations in the intervening months, but presumably that was why he had come to Picard with his request.

For his part ... he didn't even *like* Q, even if had found him bizarrely compelling since the moment they met. He had learned to tolerate him better over the past weeks and months, but if he was less dangerous than he used to be, he was no less vexing. Picard's emotions in regard to the entity continued to alternate between irritation, pity, intellectual fascination and reluctant lust. None of those provided a solid foundation for real friendship, let alone a sexual liaison.

But Q, it seemed, trusted him. He had no right to abuse that trust.

"It's not that I don't ..." he began.

And Q lent over the desk and kissed him on the mouth.

From any objective standpoint, it was a terrible kiss. Overly wet, punctuated by random stabs of Q's tongue, and conducted at an awkward angle due to the imposition of the desk. Picard hadn't been accosted so ineptly since he was a teenager. Yet in an odd way, that seemed appropriate. It was a very *human* thing to do.

"Well?" said Q expectantly, after he'd pulled away and wiped his mouth on the back of his hand.

Picard hesitated.

"I cannot help but be flattered by your enthusiasm, although your technique leaves much to be desired."

Q smiled triumphantly. "In that case, you can help me practice."

It wasn't until then Picard realized that he hadn't actually said no.

The End

There are some good ones here, sort of overdramatic and wordy at times, but yay porn who cares - http://tv.adultfanfiction.net/authors.php?no=26459

I'm recommending "The Anthropology of Love" for fluff/Picard topping, and "Separate But Equal" for dirty, dirty porn with Picard sort of maybe topping from the bottom - it's complicated.

And oh my goodness, it's crack time. Sorry, I'd like to post more, but all my fics seem to be like 20 pages long or full of weepingcock*-worthy purple prose. Or both. *headdesk*

*http://community.livejournal.com/weepingcock/

Q listened as the man, for the third time that day, ordered "Tea. Earl Grey. Hot."

Q sighed as the smell of pungently brewed tea filled the room. One of these days, Q was just going to snatch that damn tea and pour it all over Picard's bald head. Better yet, he could shrink Picard to the size of a flea and dunk him in that damn tea like a donut. Except you weren't supposed to dunk donuts into tea. No matter. The simile retains the same significance.
Picard settled himself comfortably into a large, squishy-looking armchair, folded his legs beneath him, and began to read. Q sighed and drummed his fingertips against a moderately sized star. Per the rule of cause and effect, a colossal fireball the size of Picard's home planet detached itself and flew off into space, nearly crashing into a nearby planet. A few million voices cried out in fear. "Sorry," Q muttered, and adjusted himself so that no further explosions would ensue.

Q didn't quite know why he engaged himself in watching Picard so much, but he knew that it was definitely more fun than gallivanting around the cosmos with grandiose ideals of morality and a so-called "responsibility," studying boring worlds from afar and reporting the actions of meaningless worldly politicians to higher-level Q, which was the pastime of the rest of the Continuum. So he sat and watched Picard, sat and watched as he read Macbeth for literally the thousandth time, and watched as Picard drank his tea, readied for bed, and retired for the evening.

And he watched the next night, and the next. Julius Caesar, Dracula, the Count of Monte Cristo... Did this man read anything but meaningless Earth "classics?" Q wondered idly, digging an asteroid out from under a fingernail. Every single day, after dinner, Picard would get his tea, curl up in that same damn chair, and read something.

It drove Q insane.

"Picard, would it be in your entirely insignificant power to read something meaningful, like the historical account of the fall of the Darsus empire on Sexis XIV or the legends of the Korr in Alpha Centauri's Dmlsid system?" Q was constantly tempted to say. But instead he just watched, commending his own maturity and self-control, and toyed with the idea of shrinking Picard and dunking him in his own tea.

But naturally, he didn't. Shrinking was entirely undignified; it implied (in the Continuum, at least) that a Q was too weak to manipulate the full-sized object, and thus energy had to be expended to expend less energy. And besides, Q was normally more... elaborate in his plans. More elaborate and manipulative.

And then he toyed with the notion of a gigantic VAT of Earl Grey. A lake-sized vat, surrounded by a desert of sugar, where the sky rained mild lemon juice. As for the cream... Q chuckled evilly and started to formulate his plans.

***

"Geordi, has the Captain said anything odd to you lately?" asked Dr. Crusher, fixing the burn the engineer had gotten while realigning a plasma conduit.

"No, Doc," said Geordi. "But he has seemed kind of distracted lately."

Crusher nodded and located her medical tricorder. "You know, the other day, I had dinner in his quarters with him, and he said...

***

"I think I shall get some tea. Hmm. No, no, perhaps not... Would you care for some, Beverly?"

"No, thank you, Jean-Luc. I'll take some coffee, though, if you could."

Picard nodded and retrieved some coffee for the doctor. Q chuckled a little and watched the scene unfold; the captain and the doctor making human small talk, and all the while thoughts of Q were streaming from the man's consciousness like a... dammit, but Q couldn't think of a non-sexual simile. No matter, though.
"Beverly, have you had any... odd dreams, lately?"

Crusher raised one of her eyebrows in an entirely serious-looking way that made Q laugh aloud and shatter a large ball of ice hurtling past him, because Crusher had had nothing but odd dreams lately. Q had seen to it that Crusher's dreams were filled with naughty-minded tentacle monsters, gallivanting half-robot space pirates, and Riker. Oh, yes. He loved the look of horror on her face when Riker entered her dreams.

"No, Captain," said the doctor blithely. "Why do you ask?"

Picard immediately flushed beetroot red and stuttered, "N-nothing, really. But I've been having such strange dreams, and I once awoke (to my bewilderment) to find a lump of sugar between my-"

And Q conveniently caused an ensign on Deck 6 to trip and break an ankle to get rid of Crusher.

***

"Weird," said Geordi. "The Captain drinks TEA? He's French!"

Q doubted that. The mortal was much too sensible to be French.

***

Picard groaned loudly, and Q sent him back to his ship, chuckling evilly. He found he rather enjoyed the human practice of "realigning the ol' warp core," as Geordi once aptly put it to an attractive young Ensign. It soothed him. Q made a mental note to respond to any jibes from Q and Q in the future with the human phrase "Man, you really need to get laid," because it really was quite fun. (Q entertained himself for a moment with an image of the entire Q Continuum in a massive orgy, with all sorts of fantastical devices. And screaming. Lots and lots of screaming. The screaming mostly came from Q and Q and Q, whom Q didn't like, and Q also, who bothered Q and Q, and thus also bothered Q himself. Q, Q, and Q were all very good friends. He'd have to see about... oh, no, not yet.) The laying, not getting laid. He wouldn't know about getting laid; Q hadn't tried that yet.

But he would.

***

Picard and Data sat in silence on the shuttlecraft, when out of the blue Data said, "Captain?"

"Yes, Data?"

"There is a drop of lemon juice on your uniform."

***

Picard was dreaming again.

It was a most bizarre dream, not least because he was being chased but where, and in what state, and by whom.

Every time he visited, it was raining. Initially, Picard had thought it was urine, but on closer inspection, it proved to be lemon juice. "How odd," Picard had said to himself. He glanced at the ground; the sand was white, and granular. He could feel it between his toes. It was most disconcerting. He knelt down to get a closer look, and that was when he realized he was completely naked.

Picard screeched like a hyena and collapsed into the sand. As he did so, some of it entered his mouth. "Sugar," he realized with another shout, and spat it out.

While Picard had been in numerous convoluted and difficult situations over his many years on the Enterprise, this was simply ridiculous. What entity could POSSIBLY come up with such a contrived and... and... and UNDIGNIFYING existence? Lemon juice? And sugar? Why, he might be swimming in TEA in the next few minutes!

"Hello, mon capitaine," said a voice from behind him. And suddenly everything made sense.

After a few years of dreading that voice, Picard knew it quite well, and so took off running as fast as he possibly could across the plain of sugar. Naked. While it rained lemon juice. With an immortal demigod chasing him.
NAKED.

God, why did he join Starfleet?

Quite suddenly, Picard fell into a large pool of liquid. It was warm, and... silky, somehow. Steam rose from it, and drops of lemon juice spattered into it. The liquid itself was dark, almost like...

"Tea, Earl Grey, hot," Picard whispered, and Q caught up to him.

***

"Data, can I express something to you in confidence?"
"Certainly, Captain."
"Well, Data, this is a rather awkward subject, and I don't want to worry the crew about it, but it simply must be said."
"What is it, sir?"
Picard shifted uncomfortably and stated simply, "Well, lately, upon waking, I feel rather like I've just been bum-fucked in a vat of Earl Grey tea."

>>54034
Is there a sequel to this? If not, someone should write it....

>>54041

NO THERE ISN'T. THERE NEEDS TO BE.

>>53740
But who's behind him!? Who's behind him?

http://www.alara.net/trek/pq_recs.html

Q/Picard was one of the first things I stumbled onto as a ten-year-old on dial-up. Good times, man.

Any good slash fic with Weyoun? Everything I found was really OOC.

>>54023
Why hello there '90s

Have something stupid because that dump contained every single non-TOS image I have. THIS IS A MISCARRIAGE OF JUSTICE.

>>54175
THAT IS DAMN CUTE!

>>54174
MORE

>>54239
That single page has been floating around for a good long while and as far as I know nobody has found the full comic.

lol doujinshi

>>54302

>>54303

>>54304

>>54305

>>54306

Hahahaha
DAT TRANSLATION

>>54311
I have seen worse or as I call it, I have seen more HILARIOUS

It's probably not that great in the original Japanese either.

>>54324

I hate how hard it is to find TOS doujin. Or maybe I'm an r-tard and don't know how to find it. It's probably the latter.

Found a Data/Riker comic, but it's in moonspeak. Anyone capable of translating?

In return for said hypothetical translation, dumping.

Data and Lore

Not porn, but you lot would appreciate it.