#tos!spock x reader
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TOS!Spock x Fem!Reader; The Visitor Part 2
ON HIATUS FOR THE TIME BEING
Modern!AU where Spock is an alien who lands in the reader’s backyard and seeks shelter while repairing his ship. Eventual romance and smut.
In The Original Series it is said Spock is a vegetarian, not vegan, so I’m basing this part off of that information.
WARNINGS: Mentions of blood and bodily harm. Awkwardness. Spock is tall and the Reader is not. Foot kink if you squint. Not proof read at all. PART ONE
Part 2: And the zipping white light beams disregarding bombs and satellites. That was the turning point- that was one lonely night
Sparse sun rays of a dreary morning ghosted through the curtains of your bedroom. The night was enveloped in sweaty tossing and turning. You remembered anxious nights before the first day of school where it took you hours to fall asleep and when you finally did you dreamt of still trying to fall asleep. You could never tell if you actually slept that way.
This night was no different.
It was easier to help your visitor into the house, as he wasn’t unconscious this time. He had leaned onto your shoulder and excused himself to the bathroom to change.
You hadn’t been sure what to do at that point, but directed him exhaustedly to a spare room. You had sealed most of the rooms to reserve heat to save money. You felt guilty for how cold it had been and thankfully the old heater in the corner worked.
You shut yourself up with your dog and lay with the fire poker for good measure. You were still equally spooked as you were tranced. Was it a dream? The green blood felt real, but it was so outlandish it couldn’t possibly be.
At some point Spaghetti was scratching the door so hard you let her out of the room. If she wanted her liver eaten, fine so be it.
When you were sure it was finally morning you roused from bed feeling your whole body ache.
You slowly pushed open the door wincing at the creak. His room was only a little down the hall. You ridiculously crawled on all fours until you came next to his doorframe. You swore you had left it closed but now it was just wide enough for your dog to push her way through.
You peeked in and saw he was lying under the two quilts you had placed atop him. Spaghetti was nestled into his side and you inwardly screeched. His head faced away from you as you slowly crept in.
His chest rose and fell calmly. The pit of anxiety in your stomach unfurled into a sigh of relief. Spaghetti’s tail began to thump and you slowly crept back out.
You dawdled to the den slowly and fumbled the fire poker back into its stand.
You felt a chill slither down your back and absentmindedly you fiddled around for some kindling to make another fire. Despite not having cleaned out the ashes from the night before it caught easily. You would have to chop more before the weekend was over and fortunately for you the logs outside were protected with a tarp. Otherwise they would be soaking wet.
You didn’t know why such a thing preoccupied your mind. There was a damn alien in your house and firewood was at the top of your list?
You fell back into the couch. How long would he be here? Would his own kind come looking for him? Would your kind look for him? You desperately did not want the FBI knocking at your door.
What the hell were you going to feed him? Could he eat Earth food? He did say he was half human-albeit he also said he was a vegetarian. What were you supposed to feed a vegetarian.
“Woof.”
“Dog,” you huffed in response, accustomed to your pet’s voice.
“Human.”
You looked up to see your guest had risen, still in your grandfather’s clothes. He was a bit pale, but seemed alright for the most part. Spaghetti was at his side, tail still wagging. Damn dog.
You stood immediately, “Did I wake you?”
“Yes, but it is of no consequence,” he replied, “I extend my gratitude for your assistance last night.”
You nodded, mouth feeling dry. You ran your fingers through your hair, finding a large knot. Your neck flushed. You must have looked awful.
He himself endured the awkward silence. Spaghetti was the first to break it.
“Breakfast,” you chirped, “I need to feed her. Are you hungry?”
You went into the kitchen, trying to smooth down your hair and retrieved her food bag from the pantry. If you didn’t keep it locked up she’d devour all of it in one day and probably die of an intestinal blockage. You almost learned that the hard way shortly after inheriting her and the house.
Spaghetti trudged to you once her bowl was filled and began chomping away.
Spock still stood at the corner of the rug, the left side of his frame bathed in little fire light. You avoided his gaze by ducking into the fridge.
“You said-eh-Vulcans don’t eat meat, right? Can Vulcans eat eggs and toast?” you asked, still feeling the heat at your neck and ears.
“I suppose that will be acceptable.”
His voice was much closer, causing you to jump and hit your head inside the refrigerator. You turned and found that indeed he was much closer than before. You hadn’t even heard his footsteps.
You had forgotten how tall he was.
“Right!” you blurted, “I’ll get started on that. Do you drink coffee?”
He shook his head, “Although my mother has an affinity for it, Vulcans prefer tea.”
You nodded again, “I’ll see what I can do.” You began to rummage through the cupboard.
“Could I be of assistance?” he asked, having taken a step back. Did he sense it-how you felt?
“No-no, please. You’re still hurt. Just sit down.”
He didn’t move to argue with you and did as instructed. He laid his hands atop the kitchen table, brushing off some crumbs from the placemat.
Why were you so flustered by him? You didn’t feel that way helping him change or into bed. If anything you were wholly consumed by anxiety.
What if you hadn’t stitched him properly? you remembered thinking, What if he bled to death in your house?
He had developed a shiver about him that night so you layered him heavy with quilts, even pulling one off your bed for good measure. You had whispered fiercely into the old heater in the corner, threatening it with the dumpster if it didn’t turn on. Thankfully the old crystals rattled to life and filled the room with its orange glow.
Now he was at your kitchen table politely and patiently waiting to be fed. Spaghetti was done with her own breakfast and settled at his feet.
You scowled inwardly. That dog had never been that nice to you. You wondered if it was because of the scent of his clothes-reminding her of her old master.
You managed to find some ancient tea your grandmother had in the cabinet and set the kettle to boil. You hoped to every and any holy entity it didn’t taste like shit. You fetched eggs from the fridge and procured a pan.
“How do you like your eggs?” you asked.
“I was not aware there were multiple ways to like them.”
“Well, there’s more than one way to skin a cat.”
“Am I to understand your kind consumes them?” he quipped.
You stifled a sigh, settling on whipping the eggs in a bowl, “No-we don’t eat cats. Well, some people might. I’ve never met one. It’s just an expression really.”
Neither had you seriously met someone seriously considering eating a feline either. You had only heard racists jokes, which was not something you wanted to unpack right now.
While you were scrambling the eggs Spaghetti had managed to flip over her food bowl and began to whine. She sat sternly by it, despite the fact that it had long been empty and she knew how to flip it back.
She whined loudly, wanting more kibble.
“No,” you replied, “That’s all you get for now. Don’t indulge her-she’s just an asshole.”
Despite your order Spock was already crouching with the ghost of a wince on his features. He flipped the bowl back over.
You were seriously considering eating dog.
“Do your people have expressions?” you asked after depositing toast and eggs on a plate for the both of you.
He settled back down at the table, his reply deterred by the sudden whistle of the kettle. You rushed to it, setting it off the eye. You poured the water in his cup, hoping the tea wasn’t awful. It almost looked like it dated nearly twenty years. When you had first moved in and were cleaning out the freezer you found frozen vegetable and meats dating even farther back.
“Yes, but they are not as colorful as Terran ones I have found. I know a few from my mother, but none of the likes of which you shared today.”
You blushed again, “I’m sorry-it’s my raising I guess.” You set his plate and tea before him gingerly, avoid eye contact. You felt silly.
You had a million questions. How far was Vulcan from Earth-what was it like? What was their language like? Did they all wear robes as he did or was that exclusively for travel? Were their more planets beyond Earth like Vulcan? Did all Vulcans have pointy ears?
“Do you have shame?” he asked.
You were snapped out of your inner wondering.
“What?” you sat across from him.
“Your tone indicates your ‘raising’, as you put it, as an excuse rather than an explanation. It would seem you are shameful.”
You sighed for a moment and decided to be truthful, “Sometimes. Not for my grandparents or this house. I mean we weren’t the richest or the most sophisticated.”
He looked at his plate for a moment and picked up the fork, twisting it in his right hand.
“I understand,” was all he offered.
You normally ate a quick pace. Spaghetti had trained you that way. You had to be fast so she wouldn’t purposely drool all over your feet or lap.
The visitor ate slowly, without an hint of whether he liked his breakfast or not. You flushed again at the sight of your empty plate and his still half full.
He probably thought you were a pig.
“Do you?” you blurted.
“Pardon?” He glanced up from his ministrations.
“Feel ashamed of your upbringing?”
“Vulcans do not feel shame,” he stated plainly, resuming his meal. Spaghetti trudged over to him and began to slobber at his socks. He gently prodded her head to the side, not paying her much attention other than so.
“Why?” you asked incredulously.
“Shame is a human emotion.”
“What-do Vulcans have their own set or something?” you snarked, allowing yourself to giggle.
“Vulcans adhere to a practice in which we do not partake in such expression. Such is the philosophy of Surak.”
You stared at him. Like you were supposed to know what that meant.
“Who’s Surak?”
His right brow twitched ever so slightly.
“A Vulcan philosopher.” He drank his tea, once again with no hint to whether it tasted good or bad. “One who taught that emotions makes one illogical and hindered the improvement and growth of a successful and peaceful society.”
You tapped your foot, beginning to feel the red swell on aggravation behind your lips.
“You have no shame, yet you understand it? How is that possible?”
“I was taught the history of my civilization. We were once like the humans-living rashly at the expense of survival-at the expense of our evolution to a greater society.”
“So, what, you’re saying Vulcans are better than humans for that?”
He placed the utensil back down cleanly on the plate and moved his elbows to prop on the table. He steepled his long fingers and locked his eyes with yours.
“Once again you keep inferring from declarations I have not given.”
You crossed your arms, “Indirectly. You were once like humans and now that you’re not you’re better for it?”
“Once again-”
The shrill bell of the kitchen phone interrupted the tension, slicing through it with each ring.
You went to it quickly, leaving your breakfast alone. Please, God, don’t let it be the FBI.
“Hello?”
“Good mornin’!”
“Doctor Beltik!” you strained through clenched teeth. You instantly recognized the cheery voice, slowly deteriorating in sharpness from its age.
The town veterinarian was as old nearly as the town itself-as old as your grandparents would be if they were still here. He was a good friend to them and Spaghetti’s mortal enemy.
“Little lamb, how are ya?”
“I’m well.”
You glanced back at Spock and mouthed an apology. He only nodded ever so slightly and continued his breakfast while coolly keeping your dog at bay with the heel of his foot.
A fucking pro already. You chuckled at that.
“And the ole girl?”
You stifled a huff. You did not have time for old chit chat, as much as you loved the old vet.
“She’s the same-Doctor Beltik I really-” you started but were cut off.
“I won’t keep ya long, lamb, I wanted to ask if your power went out last night. It was quite a storm-largest lightening strike we’ve seen since your ma was a wee thing! Darned thing lasted a long time, nearly blinded me! Not that I’m not already halfway there anyway.”
You paled a bit feeling the eggs churn in your belly. What if someone saw the crash or the ship? How foolish could you be to think anyone could really believe that that was lightening. The vet was a fossil and maybe a little silly, but anyone in their right mind-”
“Y/N?” the vet asked, “Ya still there?”
“Yes!” you sputtered, “It woke me up, but I didn’t have too much trouble going back to sleep. Bad weather is like white noise, y’know.”
“Did your power go out? All of downtown went black.”
Shit.
“Wow, really? Uh-it did for a short time. Listen, doc-I’ve got biscuits in the oven-”
“That’s alright. Enjoy your Sunday, lamb!”
“Thankyou, Doctor Beltik.”
You hung up the phone and grumbled. You smoothed out your robe and turned around.
The table was empty. No spaceman. Spaghetti was sniffing at the back door after leaving a trail of drool from where Spock had sat to the doorframe.
Great, just great.
---
You were already half way out the door, tugging your rainboots when you spotted him at the tree line.
“Spock!” you called, “What’re you doing?”
It had already began to sprinkle. You darted towards the tree line, the ache in your calves reminding you of the night before-both dragging and half carrying him.
You nearly ran into him as he stopped so suddenly you had no time to slow down. He steadied you with a strong hand, fingers brushing the bare skin of your collar bone. Droplets of morning drizzled flecked his dark hair and you found yourself crooning your neck back to meet his gaze.
“I must repair the ship,” he stated plainly, unmoved by your close proximity to him.
You couldn’t speak. The pads of his fingers were warm at the base of your throat. You felt a chill run up the entirety of your body.
“Breathe,” he commanded.
You took in the damp morning air and felt your face go hot immediately. You hadn’t even realized you were holding your breath.
He let you go and you instinctively took a step back. Your brain was fuzzy. It kept shouting the same things over and over, as if arguing with itself.
Friend. Predator. Stranger. Liver.
You hated how tall he was.
He turned curtly and began into the woods. You bumbled after him.
“I hope no one saw the crash,” you informed him, shivering. “The vet over the phone saw the light from your ship and it knocked out the town’s power, not just my house last night!”
“There was suitable cloud cover and I was able to move quietly under the detection of Earth’s authorities,” he replied, “Until the storm worsened. I was temporarily blinded and almost struck a metal structure- I believe it’s purpose is to provide the facilities to operate mobile communications.”
“You mean a cell tower?”
You stumbled over a root, sliding in the mud. You grabbed onto his sleeve without thinking. He locked his grip under your elbow and helped you along. You felt pathetic, but steadier.
“Affirmative. Fortunately, I avoided it,” he explained, “But I was not so quick to avoid the trees up there.”
He motioned with his hand and you saw the tops of the evergreens were indeed quite taken out.
The ship loomed into view, sleek and colorless in design. It seemed smaller in the daytime.
He stopped short of where the ramp used to be and pressed his fingers to the cool metal. The maw of the ship opened quietly and out streamed the light again.
“The right side of the landing gear is damaged along with a small piece of the hull. Some of the infrastructure of the cargo bay has been warped,” he continued, still leading you carefully up the slick ramp. It’s almost like he knew how you had to crawl that night in order to keep from falling.
He was right. In the dark you had never seen it. Beams fashioned of the same white metal that crafted the cargo hold were indeed bent and some broken. One had been completely severed and was like a sharp pike. It sported a coat of dried green.
You glanced at his right flank and back up at him. He did not acknowledge your expression of horror.
“What is unknown to me is how the sensors did not detect the cell tower.”
You realized he was still holding on to your elbow.
“Maybe something was already broken?” you offered in a soft voice.
He looked down at you and removed his hold.
“I will investigate as I was not able to last evening,” he replied already starting up the ladder. “Then I must repair the ship and return to Vulcan.”
You followed after him carefully, not wanting to fall. “And how are you gonna do that? There’s not exactly many alien spaceship workshops around here.”
You poked your head through. The cockpit seemed to have the Tardis effect. Unlike the outside it seemed much bigger on the inside. Lines of soft light lined the elongated wind screen and the runway between seats. Spock was kneeling at the console.
“Aboard each private Vulcan vessel are tools and minor parts for replacement. Although it will take me some time I should be able to repair it sufficiently to return me home.”
You ran your fingers gently along the railing along the bottom of the glass outlooking the forest.
You finally registered what he had said and whipped around.
“You can’t do that in the middle of the woods out here! Someone already noticed the ship’s light last night. Who knows that someone won’t come poking around here. You-” you sighed and rubbed your temples, “-you need somewhere to work.”
He stood, once again towering over you at too close distance. “I suppose you already have a space in mind?”
“Actually,” you tapped your finger against your lips, “I might. If it will fit. God willing.”
He eyes did not meet yours, but below. You didn’t realize it at first but his gaze was following your finger, right at your lips. You didn’t know if he knew it, but he had began to chew on his bottom lip.
You felt heat blooming at your neck.
“But-!” you interrupted your line of thinking, “I don’t think I can tow this thing with my truck. Can it fly anymore?”
He nodded, “That is something I can tend to now. Although it is still cloudy it might be preferrable if we perform this operation at night.”
“This thing already stands out like a sore thumb from the sky-I mean it’s straight chrome almost.”
Almost. Not nearly as silver. More delicate and duller.
“Then I shall try now,” he said and rapidly moved back to the console, flipping switches and the like.
“Wait-wait-” you scrambled back to the ladder, “I don’t want to be on this thing when it moves.”
You were already half way down when he murmured,
“Humans. So peculiar.”
--
How it fit into your garage was nothing short of a miracle. You never kept the truck under there anyway. Most of your grandfather’s tools had been stuffed to the side. There’s used to be more vehicles, but in your grandparents will you had been instructed to sell the car and boat to help you with your finances. You could sell the house if you wanted, but you didn’t.
Not yet anyway.
There was a large concrete pad in front of the double garage doors and you stood there in the raining morning, motioning with your hands for him to land there. From there on you guided him to slowly back in into place. It funnily reminded you of helping friends’ parents park at graduation.
Instead of activating the ramp which if extended would destroy the stairs up into the rest of the house, he appeared from a sort of port hole near the back of the vessel.
“This will do quite well, Y/N, thankyou,” he said.
You squeezed your arm and nodded. You looked up at the sound of Spaghetti scratching the basement door.
“I-I need a shower,” you said, “Are you all set?”
“Affirmative.”
He had already began to examine landing gear, having a sort of tool belt of sorts that resembled the ships lack of color and sleek design about his waist.
“I’ll be up stairs if you need anything. Just holler.”
“I will, pi’veh.”
You slipped out of your boots and left them at the base of the staircase. He glanced back at you as the creaking of your bare footsteps filled the room.
He turned back to his work, noting subconsciously that your nails were painted.
Peculiar indeed.
#spock x reader#spock xfem!reader#spock#tos!spock x reader#star trek#startrek#tos#the original series#lucycola#the visitor#Spaceman by The Killers
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Oops!
Spock x Reader
Word Count:
Warnings: second hand embarrassment, puke
Ao3: N/A
Notes:
I just like the idea of accidentally giving spock a vulcan kiss, okay????
Tag List:
You knew that Mccoy's response of "Well be more social, then," was a result of him being busy. Not paying attention. But, you'd taken it to heart.
Being alone in your room so often had tanked your mental health. Introverted or not, part of "self care" is letting out your thoughts and feelings.
You can't help but think that self care is too complicated. Hygiene in itself is a fifty point list.
The best plan you had was to introduce yourself to someone. That in itself is difficult. There are too many options and techniques.
It was hard when it was just humans—or at least, mainly humans—back on Earth. But in the Enterprise? With even more races and cultures? Squeezed in? Together?
You enter the lift, blandly speaking out your destination. It's only when you notice the shoes next to you, shining, that you realize you have a chance to just— do this. Get it over with.
The anxiety swells in your throat, and you can't help but think it's not worth it. It'll take so much effort, and if you don't say anything, they'll never know.
"Good morning!" You chirp, before you can put to much thought in. It's much more gruff than you meant. You realize, as you swallow, that this is the first time you've spoken today.
You almost wonder if they're going to reply, but then you see a hand.
It barely takes a second to connect the dots. A handshake! Easy.
In your excitement at the ease of this venture, you bring your right hand to meet their left—and—oh.
Wrong hand. Your hands are touching. Theirs is straight, yours across it. Your ring and little finger are touching the side of their hand, your thumb tucked over their's.
You glance up at them, you don't make eye contact.
Your first two fingers presses against their last.
His last. His last two fingers.
He's male.
"Oh sorry, wrong hand!"
A Vulcan male.
He's Spock.
"Oh shit."
You jerk your hand back.
"The crude wording is not needed, Lieutenant-Commander."
"Spocckkk." You draw out through your teeth, voice high pitched.
"Yes?"
The doors open, no one is there.
"I am. Fuck, I am sorry. It wasn't— fuck, sorry."
The door closes. The lift remains still.
"I didn't mean to—" you take a breath. "It wasn't my intention to—" you pause.
His eyebrows raise, your heart beats faster.
Can he report you for harassment over this? It was just a handshake— be pretty fucked up if he could.
It would be pretty fucked up if he couldn't, too. Damn.
He probably should report you.
He won't.
"Kiss you?"
The words feel like bile in your mouth.
Or are you about to puke?
"That's not a question. I did not mean to phrase that as a question." You attempt to repair quickly. "I did not want to kiss you."
Oh that sounds plan rude!
"Or, er— you know what I mean."
You blink at him. How long have you been talking?
"Are you done, Lieutenant-Commander?"
You stay quiet, and after a few moments, you realize that it's a genuine question.
"You can— you can call me Doctor. And yes. Sorry."
He nods. "Doctor. It was a mistake. It is of no consequence, and does not alter my opinion of you."
You nod, anxiety not fading. You do, however, remember to breathe.
"Can I make it up to you?" Is your timid reply. You find that Spocks eyebrows can reach impressive heights.
"I suppose so. However, I do not see a reason that 'making it up to me' is needed."
You let out a breathy chuckle after a long moment of silence, and it does good to ease the tightness in your chest.
"Okay." You breathe. "When... do you have time?"
Spock doesn't take any time to think. "Tonight would be sufficient."
You nod. "My quarters."
He nods.
"Okay, you'll probably have to add another bead, so it'll fit. Let me—" you shift closer to him, taking a look at the bracelet in his hand. "—look at it."
It's only slightly too small for him, now. He'd decided to use the small glass bead in an elaborate pattern of rust, royal blue and copper. You had used the large plastic beads, and jokingly put an S bead on the bracelet. Baby blue.
"I do not see the point in making bracelets, Doctor."
You laugh. He's been happily putting beads on a string. He'd taken around ten minutes just choosing colours.
"Only idea I could come up with, really. Part of human culture."
You lean over, shoulder bumping his. "Okay, that looks good. Can I check it?"
Spock's eyebrow twitches. "Yes. That is agreeable."
"Alrighty." You gently grab each end of his bracelet, and he sticks his hand out. You bring the bracelet up, cupping his wrist like a U.
"Huh." You huff, scooting forward. "Okay, yeah, that's good. Want me to tie it?"
You glance up, making eye contact with Spock. The green of his face makes your eyebrows crease, but his face stays impassive.
He nods.
You promptly begin tying the bracelet, tearing your gaze away from his.
Once you have it double knotted, you reach over to the table, retrieve the scissors, and grab his hand.
Once you've snipped the excess, you hide the knot under a bead.
"Doctor."
You hum. "Yes?"
When looking to Spock, you are met only by his unwavering stare and green cheeks. No words.
Your gaze travels down, your hand holding his.
"Oh fuck me."
"That does seem to be the message you are sending, Doctor."
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"May I have this dance?"
Pairing: TOS Spock x Reader
Fandom: Star Trek: The Original Series
Words: 1.3K
Summary: Sometimes all you need to do is talk and dance.
A/N: I feel like this one is a bit OOC but I don't really care right now.
Not my gif!!!
WINTER WRITING PLAN
Sighing, you close the door behind you and kick your shoes off your feet.
Note to self, next time just wear comfortable trainers. No one would care anyway.
In a way, you were grateful to your husband for dragging you home early from the New Year's party, because you weren't sure how much longer you could have stood in those shoes.
On the other hand, you felt melancholy rising inside you as your eyes fell on the clock, which told you that it was only twenty minutes until midnight.
You had been looking forward to the party for weeks, where the whole crew would meet (the five-year mission was over and the Enterprise had been in dock for repairs for two months) and the sight of familiar faces had put you in high spirits.
However, Spock had taken you aside at a little after eleven and asked you to leave.
He was not too keen on large gatherings of people, even if he knew them well, and the loud music made his ears shrill. You had known that this would happen, but you had still hoped that you would at least manage to stay until midnight.
Nevertheless, you did not grumble, but said goodbye to your friends and then, led by Spock, started on your way home.
After all, he had only come and practically suffered for your sake and for your love, so you could not refuse to let him go if it became too much for him.
"You're disappointed." His voice made you look up. As so often, it was far from emotional and with his arms folded behind his back, he looked as if he were reporting to the captain on the Enterprise.
"No, I'm not."
"But you're not happy about us leaving either." You sighed and walked over to him until you were standing in front of him. "I want to be honest with you Spock. No, I'm not happy. However, I'm not angry or disappointed either. I knew we would leave early because you are not comfortable with such festivities. However, I had hoped that we could stay there at least until midnight to celebrate the New Year with the others."
You smiled and gently felt for his hand, which he allowed. "However, I don't want you to feel guilty either."
"I am Vulcan, I do not feel emotions." You just shook your head with a smile. "Of course not."
You tried to turn around, however Spock continued to hold your hand. "If you had said so, we could have stayed."
"No," you shook your head. "You were uncomfortable and no celebration or party in the world is worth making you feel bad."
"What a sentimental way of thinking." Smirking, you broke away from him to go to the bathroom and take off your jewellery.
"Don't act like you wouldn't have done the same in my place, Spock."
"Maybe." He sounded thoughtful, lost in thought and you didn't get a longer answer, however, this was nothing new for you and you didn't think anything of it, so engrossed were you in removing the jewellery as well as make-up and the tightly fitting hairstyle. You only looked up when soft classical music flew into the bathroom.
French, eighteenth century, if you were not mistaken. Confused, you drew your eyebrows together. "Spock?"
No answer.
With another sigh, you set aside the rag of make-up remover you had just been about to use and left the bathroom. "Spock, what are ... you doing?"
The last word almost stuck in your throat as you stepped into the living room. In no time at all, Spock had moved the furniture aside to create an open area in the middle of the room and had gathered pretty much all the candles in your flat together, lit them and spread them around the room so that they provided the only source of light.
He himself stood, still dressed in a festive black Vulcan tunic in the centre of the room, his face bathed in gold from the candlelight, his arms folded behind his back.
"Spock, what...?" You were at a loss for words and Spock merely raised an eyebrow before taking elegant and lithe long strides towards you, coming to a stop in front of you.
He looked down at you and regarded you for a few moments.
"I realised again tonight how much you have to give up to be married to me. I am aware that I am not always easy and that in many ways I do not conform to proper human behaviour. I am also aware of the fact that many persons around you have not spoken well of this marriage, but you have not allowed yourself to be influenced." He lowered his gaze slightly and you thought you could see a greenish glow on his cheeks.
"I have not fulfilled my duties as a husband well and no," he interrupted your protests before they could begin, " I will take no criticism in that regard. You have made many sacrifices and I have seldom appreciated them. For that I would like, humbly, to ask your forgiveness. I am also aware that it is not nearly equal to what you are doing to conform to my customs, however, I hope to make a start with this."
Without hesitation, he slowly brought out his free hand, not covered in gloves, and held it out to you, his gaze now locked razor-sharp on yours.
"May I have this dance?"
For a few moments you were speechless. You had told Spock at the beginning of your relationship how much you loved dancing, but Spock had never shown any particular affection for it, so at some point you had stopped asking.
However, you had always enjoyed it. Always.
It had been something private between you, almost intimate, since Spock, as you might expect, had not enjoyed indulging in such emotional things in front of other people, which was why you had danced supremely in the privacy of your quarters.
That he now asked for it, willingly, and even seemed pleased, warmed your heart and almost caused you to turn into a squealing teenager.
"I would be honoured."
Carefully you took his hand and instantly you were flooded with feelings of affection and pure love that almost brought tears to your eyes.
Gently, Spock led you onto the self-made dance floor and pulled you so close to him that you thought you could feel his heartbeat.
Slowly Spock began to lead you, spinning you in circles and being, as in everything, elegant, smooth and just perfect.
In time, you relaxed enough to rest your head on his shoulder and sigh contentedly as his scent hit your nose and he pulled you even closer. "Thank you," you whispered after a few minutes of silent dancing and Spock just hummed softly in denial.
"There is nothing to thank me for, Adun'a."
Before you could answer, bangs sounded outside and a glance at the clock confirmed your suspicions. "It's midnight," Spock spoke your thought as you broke away from him and walked over to the window on your balcony.
Spock stepped behind you, "Do you want to go out?"
"No," you shook your head. "Those fireworks are loud and I don't want your ears to hurt."
"I already told you, it's not just you who has to forego-"
You interrupted him. "However, I would like to do something different. It's kind of a tradition, even if we're a few seconds late."
"Very well."
You laughed softly. "You don't even know what it's about Spock."
"I trust you."
For whatever reason, these words gave you the rest.
Gently you put your hands on his cheeks, pulled him down to you and pressed your lips to his. It wasn't a very long kiss, but it conveyed all the emotions you wanted to show and gave Spock enough time to pull you a little closer to him.
"I think I might take a liking to that tradition," Spock reflected and you could see the amusement in his eyes and had to laugh.
"Happy New Year, Spock."
"I wish you the same, Adun'a."
------------------------------------------------------------------------------
@bigblissandlove1
@akamitrani
#star trek#star trek x reader#star trek the original series#star trek tos#tos#spock#commander spock#commander spock tos#spock tos#spock x reader#commander spock x reader#spock x reader tos#commander spock x reader tos
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TOS Spock w/ a Touch Starved! S/O
A/N: When I get specific requests like this it makes me wonder if ya'll are okay!
Prompt: Spock and a Touchstarved S/O
It was one of the reasons you and Spock got along so well.
You didn't treat him like an outsider, and he never judged you for your struggle with physical touch.
When he first offered you the ozh'esta (Vulcan finger kiss) you were hesitant.
It was hard to feel what he meant at first until it hit you all at once.
You almost fainted due to the stimulation.
He felt bad at first until he saw the reason why you had such an adverse reaction.
The two of you decide on slow exposure therapy.
It starts slowly with the ozh'esta then the two of you hold hands.
It takes a while before he can hold you comfortably, but you start to enjoy it.
It takes time and effort but the two of you eventually find a way to make it work.
#star trek#star trek tos#star trek the original series#tos#star trek x reader#star trek tos x reader#x reader#spock x reader#tos spock#tos star trek#spock#tos spock x reader#s'chn t'gai spock#star trek x readers#vulcan#vulcans#vulcan culture#vulcan/human#vulcan x human#vulcan romance#vulcan/human romance
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Star Trek TOS // Dating Headcanons
Authors note: I just loveee Jim and Spock in TOS they’re just so baby girl
(also guess who’s back 😏)
Pairings: Spock x reader, Jim x reader
⚠️Warnings⚠️: None
—————————————————————
🖖Spock 🖖
-Love languages are touch and words of affirmation [CHANGE MY MIND]
-He would looove to hear you compliment him any time of the day
-Most definitely melts at your touch and it's obvious
-bro legit sucks at hiding it, tbh it’s kind of adorable lol
-Oh especially when you oh so barely touch his hands or his ears, like your ghosting over them, and he's putty in your hands lol
-He can’t handle anyone else touching him tho
-Will. Not. Leave you alone
-I’m being dead serious
-Like sure he may look like he enjoys his solitude more than the average person
-But he loves to be around the people he loves most
-Even if he’s not directly interacting with them, he just likes being in the same room
-If you’re just reading together on the couch in silence together?? Bros enjoying every bit of it
-AND IF YOU OCCASIONALLY TOUCH HIS HAND EVERY NOW AGAIN??
-His face is probably a bright green shade the whole time
-I will die on the hill that Spock loves being touchy with people he deeply trusts and loves
💖 Jim 💖
-AHWKDNFBA PREPARE FOR AFFECTION
-Will kiss you no matter where you are (that’s a threat)
-Well unless you don’t like excess pda ofc, he respects your boundaries
-Pretty sure he’ll fight whoever doesn’t
-AFFECTIONATE TOUCHES ALL THE TIME
-Walking together? He’s holding your hand
-Sitting next to each other? Either an arm wrapped around your shoulders or a hand on your thigh/knee
-He’s guiding you somewhere? A hand on your lower back
-Hotel? Trivago.
-Shoulder Grip™️ almost every day
-Mostly cuz that’s how’s he likes to pull you in for a kiss
-Loves and I mean LOVES leaving small love bites on you, especially on places only he can see. It makes it feel more intimate to him
-If you ever bandage him up after he’s hurt, he insists that you kiss where it hurts (according to him it instantly heals it)
-Also asks Bones to back him up on that
(Spoiler: he doesn’t)
-This man gives the best hugs, they’re literally so warm and cozy and I will die on that hill
#tos spock x reader#tos spock#tos#tos kirk#spock x reader#kirk x reader#jim kirk#james kirk#james t kirk#jim t kirk#schn tgai spock#star trek tos#st tos#tos x Reader#TOS headcanons#tos kirk x reader#the original series#Star Trek#star trek x reader#star trek the original series
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TOS Spock NSFW Headcanons
Time for everyone's favorite Vulcan.
He gets nervous about having himself exposed even if it’s with someone he’s close to
The tips of his ears can be just as sensitive as his hands in the middle of sex
Playing with his hands is a sure fire way to get him fired up (ie. sucking on them)
If he’s topping, there’ll be plenty of marks left all over his s/o’s body that can be hidden by a uniform
If he’s bottoming, you better be willing to leave quite a number of marks on him to remember you throughout his work day
Has a secret box with a couple of specially made toys that he doesn’t like to bring up
Is willing to have sex in places that are not the bedroom, but will still say that it is illogical
Is a fan of wearing lingerie under his clothes when he’s able, will say that it’s for rebellious reasons
Adores mind melding during sex so the both of you can feel even more of what the other is feeling
#star trek x reader#spock x reader#star trek#star trek tos#s'chn t'gai spock#spock#tos spock#not sfw
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𝐵𝑟𝑒𝑎𝑡ℎ𝑒 𝑊𝑎𝑟𝑚𝑡ℎ 𝐼𝑛𝑡𝑜 𝑀𝑒 (𝑆𝑝𝑜𝑐𝑘 𝑥 𝑅𝑒𝑎𝑑𝑒𝑟)
"I'm sorry... This is all my fault I should've payed more attention I should have... I don't know I just wish-"
"There is nothing you could have done to change this. It is not your fault." Spock calmy states.
You begin to notice the slight shiver in his voice, and the growing green tint to his skin that's increasing along side the dropping temperature. It really concerns you. The cold must be getting to him. Gods, all of this because of a shuttle crash. The two of you were luckily this planet happened to be inhabitable. Well Inhabitable... but unpleasantly freezing. There's no telling how cold it must feel for Spock with his Vulcan heritage.
"T'hy'la are you alright?" Spock asks breaking your train of thought.
"Sorry, I just... I just feel useless. Sitting here freezing just waiting for the Enterprise to rescue us. If they even rescue us."
"The Enterprise will likely rescue us do not worry. " The unspoken question of when is avoided. There's not telling how long it will take. Hours, days, or worse... The two of you go silent.
"Are you cold? " You eventually speak up.
"I am adequate. "
"Spock, please don't lie... "
"Vulcans do not li-" you cut him off by reaching out a hand placing it against Spock's cheek. You gasp jolting your hand back.
"You are freezing cold! Why didn't you tell me?!" You panic and quickly shed your emergency blanket wrapping it around Spock.
"I did not want to tell you, I do not want to worry you. Please...keep your blanket you need it." Spock shivers out.
"Spock... please let me warm you? "
Spock paused then reluctantly nods. He uncovers himself holding his arms out for you to crawl into. Seems he already knew what you were planing. You snuggle up into him and cradle him close.
"May I touch your hands? "
"You always may. "
"Thank you... " you take his hands in yours gently holding them and rubbing them. Then you breathe warm air on them, breathing warmth into him like you always manage to do.
#star trek#oneshot#fanfic#comfort#fluff#hurt/comfort#spock#spock imagine#spock x reader#tos star trek#aos star trek#reader#reader insert#mr spock#commander spock#star trek movies#star trek fanfiction#alien x reader
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Imagine Spock loves you so much but can't compute why
SMUT
You looked over at Spock while he typed away at his computer "this is so aggravating" you walked over and placed a hand on his bicep and smiled to yourself knowing that he would never have shown his distress to anyone but you.
" oh Spock you work yourself too hard baby" he looked up at you raising his eyebrows, he knew what you were about to do. "won't you come to bed"
"if it means to sleep" you giggled "you're out of luck then" Spock looked up at you seeming to be contemplating something. "Well then I suppose I'll just have to 'go to bed' myself"
The look of fear and helplessness that crossed his face, even just for a second, spoke volumes. Spock hated your human antics. He hated how much he loved it and the way you made him feel. You make spock feel almost human and he hates it so much because he can't understand why. And Spock hates what he doesn't understand.
You took notice of the fear in his eyes and thought it better to ask again. You hand now resting on the side of his neck, your other set of fingers running though his jet black hair as he looked up at you with parted lips and pleading eyes.
"won't you please come to bed" you put extra emphasis on the 'please' "I miss you"
Your human touch lingered on his skin, the same human touch that aroused yet agitated him at the same time. You walked over to the bed with your boyfriend close behind you, looking like a lost dog.
The look of this was embarrassing and pathetic. An "emotionless" Vulcan following his human girlfriend around because he can't control himself.
Spock spent his whole life not feeling emotion. He'd never wanted to have sex before he met you. Why would he? He's a Vulcan after all. However...when he did meet you he thought he was dying, he was fully convinced there was something wrong with him. Why did he want to be around you? That's completely illogical and makes no sense at all. Whenever he wasn't close to you he felt fidgety and wasn't able to sit still. Why?
"Spock I love you so much" you moaned out into his mouth with one hand scratching deep red marks down his toned back and the other cradled the back of his head, pulling slightly on his hair. "I love you..Spock I love you so much I-" he loved this. More than he can ever explain or wrap his head around. Your voice and praise, your mouth on his.
Your thighs were wrapped around his hips pulling him closer. "Please Spock" He looked up to meet your pleading gaze, taking notice of the tremble in your legs.
Your boyfriend obligated, slowly and gently sliding his cock inside. Your tight walls clenched around him letting out a high pitched squeal. The slow dragging was almost unbearable, the feeling of his head gently kissing your sensitive g spot. Spock was fighting off his own pleasure too. Your hole practically pulsating, your nails scratching through his scalp, your sweet sounds.
"yes, yes, yes!!" It was always so slow and intimate with him "faster!! Please Spock please!!" He heard your pleas and couldn't take it anymore.
"Spock!!" His hips snapped into you, his hips meeting yours at a perfect pace.
Your boyfriend brought his hand down and rubbed your sensitive button with his thumb "I know that this part feels good for you, this is where most of the nerves are" That was it. The way he spoke, his voice, the pace of his hips, his thumb right on your clit. You felt like you were going to explode.
"fuck!! Fuck I'm-" your hips started to buck up into him, your arms wrapping around his upper body while clawing at his back, wailing and squealing uncontrollably. Your orgasm washed over you like a freight train, and Spock followed close behind filling you up.
"so good..feels so good when you do that" you gave him a quick kiss. "I know, that's why I did it."
#x reader#generalkenobee#star trek#spock#spock smut#spock x reader#mr spock#star trek imagine#star trek TOS
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How the TOS crew reacts to being stuck in the turbo lift with you
requested by anon: “how would the tos crew react to getting stuck in the turbolift with reader?”
Spock
He only briefly looks up when he realises that the turbo lift has stopped.
Has no reaction whatsoever and goes back to doing whatever work on his PADD because he figures somebody has to notice it’s out of order fairly quickly
He just goes about his business until he hears you hyperventilating
He already knows why you’re panicking.
Spock does his best to comfort you by telling you that there’s only one turbo lift and therefore someone will have to fix it soon.
He’ll 100% tell you all about the history of elevators and how the turbo lift is so much safer 🤓
If you’re still worried after that he’ll let you hold his hand until someone finally fixes the turbo lift.
Leonard ‘Bones’ McCoy
Internally, he also freaks out a little bit
Bones somehow keeps his composure despite being trapped very close to you
He’s entirely in his own head about it until he realises that he can hear you freaking out even more than him
His inner country boy breaks out a little and pulls you close to him
Absolutely kisses your hands and maybe even your cheek to make you giggle a bit
He’ll remind you that you guys have been through way worse than a stopped turbo lift.
Jim Kirk
“Huh” his exact words after realising you’ve stopped.
Honestly, he really really trusts his crew so he won’t be worried at all
But the moment he hears your breathing pick up he’ll start cracking jokes
“Actually this works out perfectly, I was on my way to a meeting”
Pulls you into a big bear hug and tells you how he’d much rather be here with you
if you’re still panicking he’ll say something like “do I have to order you to calm down”
Keeps telling jokes until you laugh
and when you do laugh, he’s pretty sure his heart jumps out of his chest.
Nyota Uhura
Absolute girl boss about it
Would 100% wait it out if it weren’t for the fact that she could see you panicking
But you’re panicking and she can’t bare to see you with anything but a smile on your face
She pulls out her comm and calls down to engineering (why did no one else think to do this? 🧐)
Once she’s done that all she can really do is wait
She won’t even wait or hesitate, she’ll pull you to the floor and sit with you
10/10 would recommend getting stuck in the turbo lift with Nyota, she will cuddle until someone fixes the lift
Sulu
“Oh my”
His mind seriously blanks
But he kicks into gear when he remembers you’re here too
He pulls out a deck of cards and asks if you like magic 🪄
(I dunno why I just think Sulu can do card tricks and stuff 🤷♀️)
Card tricks quickly devolves into an intense game of war
Its unexpected for sure, but it works
Scotty
It takes him a moment to notice
But when he hears your breathing he looks up and realises that you’ve stopped
You’re lucky to be stuck in the turbo lift with the head of engineering
He gives you a quick wink 😉 and smirks when you blush
He’d turn around, open up a panel that you didn’t even know existed, and fix it
Bam, problem solved
If you’re really shaken up by it though he’ll probably take you for a drink after or make you tea if you don’t drink
I hope you like it, anon. I’m super sorry if this isn’t what you had in mind, feel free to re-request it with more specific parameters if this isn’t what you meant.
#star trek#headcanon#leonard mccoy x reader#spock x reader#kirk x reader#nyota uhura#tos sulu#im taking requests!!!#requested#Scotty
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TOS!Spock x Fem!Reader; The Visitor
Modern!AU where Spock is an alien who lands in the reader’s backyard and seeks shelter while repairing his ship. Eventual romance and smut. Inspired in part by this fic here! Reader is an American and shorter than Spock. Barely proofread.
WARNINGS: Mentions of blood and bodily harm. Language. Sassy reader and sassy Spock.
Part 1: You know that I was hoping that I could leave this star-crossed world behind- But when they cut me open I guess that changed my mind
Damn that dog.
You were sure she always hated you. She had never truly liked anyone but your grandfather. However, it always seemed like toleration than actually liking him. She came inside when called by your grandfather; your grandmother she had always staunchly ignored. She nipped at visitors when they tried to pet her in her younger days and if anyone ever left their meatballs unattended at the dinner table she’d gobble them up.
The most you could get away with in later years were a few pets to her head before she huffed and rolled over out of your reach. She barked whenever packages were delivered and snapped at the ankles of your estranged family when they’d try to surprise you. At least she was good for that.
The dog and the house were left to you when your grandmother died, your grandfather passing only some time earlier.
You were grateful, truly-but, ever since then the property taxes and Spaghetti, your dog, had been a pain in your ass.
Today especially.
A loud BAM caused you to jerk from a light doze. You fell off the sofa in a silly manner and sat in shock. For a split second, you thought it had to be thunder, but you knew it wasn’t. Following the noise a bright, piercing light shined through the back windows of the house, bathing the whole den in white.
It lasted for a whole fifteen seconds before dying out. You were left in near darkness, the power having gone out. The only light was from a dying fire you had lit hours ago. You had been curled up cozily on the sofa and now you were a pile on the rug.
Spaghetti gave a little gruff, stepping on and over you.
You clambered to the kitchen, not giving your eyes much time to adjust, and looked through the bay window to the woods in the back yard. You could see a small line of smoke billowing in the rain.
The old hound barked and you reached the wall phone, an antique to some and tried to dial for the police. No dial tone.
“Shit.”
She barked again.
“Woof yourself.”
You did not want to go out there, especially in the pouring rain at night.
The light was what freaked you out the most. Lightening didn’t flash for that long. Could it have been a plane crash? There was a small business airport near by. You weren’t even sure if it was still operation and besides, as far as you were concerned aviation crashes didn’t cause that much light for that length of time. If at all.
Something was out there, though.
You found yourself frozen, having already donned your raincoat and goulashes. Your hand was shaking thinly on the door knob, your other hand gripping the flashlight.
You opened the door only a crack and immediately was greeted by a rush of cold air. You almost forgot it was late fall and the rain was freezing.
“Nope no way. I’d rather live,” you said.
The dog decided that that was a great time to nudge her nose through the crack and force the door open.
“Spaghetti!” you called, exasperated, heading out onto the porch.
Damn it!
“Spaghetti, come back!” you cried, moving outside, trying to find her with the light on your beam.
You heard her bark and moved out further into the rain, following the direction of her bark.
The flashlight shined a concise path into the forest and against the opaque haze of rainclouds you could make out the billow of smoke.
Except there was no fire.
You were trembling as you moved into the woods. The area well known even in the dark from your time as a child exploring them. You stepped on slippery rocks and roots and birthed into a clearing, forcibly made by a...wreckage?
You shined the light on what could only be an alien craft. You couldn’t even begin to describe what it even resembled other than such.
Lo and behold sat Spaghetti sat there, tail wagging, tongue lolled out.
“Come here!” you hissed.
She only sneezed in response and turned her backside to you, sniffing the wreckage.
Turn around right now, your brain screamed. Turn around right now and pretend you didn’t see a thing.
There was the sound of rushed air being let go and the metallic creak of a ramp being lowered like a mote.
Spaghetti began barking again, backing up next to you.
That same white light flashed out over you, although it was significantly duller than before. Silhouetted in the light was a figure, tall and very like that of a human man.
You instinctively shined the light on him. Dark eyes met yours and he took a step forward only to immediately clutch his side and crumple.
He plummeted off the short side of the ramp and you ran to meet him, coming to your knees at his fallen body.
He hardly looked alien if it wasn’t for his elf like ears, framing both sides of his face. You pressed a tentative hand to the side of his face. His eyes fluttered and closed again. You felt something desperate pull at your heart.
You could not leave him here.
--
How you managed to pull him through the mud and muck back into your home was nothing short of a miracle. You were relieved to see the power had come back on.
After laying him out on the rug you felt sure you yourself would collapse next to him of exhaustion. You both were soaked and your first mission was to get you and him dry. You hastily went upstairs, tearing through an old dresser in a spare bedroom. You never threw out your grandfather’s old clothes and it would be awkward, but this was the only resource you had.
You didn’t know the extent of his injuries yet so you grabbed a first aid kit you barely knew how to use for good measure.
When you returned he was the same as you found him, making a nice wet stain in the old rug. Spaghetti had laid adjacent to his body, head resting on his chest.
You were appalled at how she had been acting. She was never like this-well, except when your grandfather was sick. The realization frightened you.
You knelt to him and realized you were still trembling as you pushed his dark hair back to reveal a small gash that was oozing green.
He really wasn’t of this world.
His eyebrows, which stopped growing at the arch, furrowed at your touch and then relaxed again which you forced your shaking to stop.
You removed your hand and then awkwardly moved to undress him. He wore a set of robes that were dark in color with a high collar. The material was unknown to you, but it was heavy.
The whole moment was surreal. Maybe this was a fever dream, you thought, as you peeled off each piece of clothing one by one.
His chest was hairy and you found yourself blushing. At the sight of a deep wound streaming from his left flank, however, you were no longer enamored. You pressed gauze to the wound and held it there for as long as you thought might clot the bleeding. You right hand were nearly soaked with green, but after some time the flow finally stopped and you could remove pressure.
You found peroxide in the kit and were hesitant to use it on his wound. Would it hurt him more than help? Would it even work on his alien body? Would it poison him?
You retrieved clean gauze and poured a bit of the solution into it. You gently pressed it to the large cut and he was up like a livewire.
He clutched your wrist with a steel like grip, his brown eyes wide and bloodshot.
You squeaked and struggled in his hold.
Spaghetti jumped back and yapped her head off, tail wagging.
He said something evenly, something you couldn’t understand.
You felt tears bubble up in the corner of your eyes and instantly you were released. You scrambled backwards against the fire place and he sat there on the rug, chest rising and falling harshly.
His face, however, was extremely controlled and almost devoid of anything.
“Who are you?”
His voice was deep and something in it excited you.
Wait.
Wait.
“You’re speaking English,” you blurted, that being the only thing you could focus on at the moment.
“Affirmative.”
“You’re...awake.”
“Astute,” he glanced around and reached for his side again, giving a wince. “Yes. I do not intend to alarm you, but I must inquire of where I am, exactly.”
“You...you’re in my house...” You further clarified by the name of your little home town and state.
“I see,’ he continued to look around and finally settled his gaze upon you.
“And you are...?”
“Y/N.” Your mouth was full of cotton and a thin tremor had taken control of your body.
“Do not be afraid,” he said and tried to stand, on failing at the sharp pain he felt in his side. He clambered back down to the rug, “I mean no harm to you.”
Spaghetti eventually settled down and sat next to you, cocking her head.
He reached for the gauze you had attempted to use to disinfect his wound and turned it over, finally pressing his softly to his side. He winced again but quickly regained his composure.
You drew your knees up to your chest, too afraid to any come closer. He didn’t seem threatening, but the way he had grabbed you frightened you. The wild look in his eye.
You tried to convince yourself he was scared in that moment; shocked to see an unfamiliar face in a place he had never been before.
“How...how do you know English?” you asked.
He looked over you and then met your eyes. Your eyes fluttered down, pink flushing up your neck and reaching your ears.
“My mother is Terran,” he informed you.
“Terran?”
“From Earth,” he further elaborated, “My father is of Vulcan and as am I, as it is where I was born.”
You found the courage to nudge yourself a little closer and crawled enough to where you were two feet away.
“What’s your name?” you asked.
He held up his free hand, spreading his fingers into a strange salute.
“I am Spock.”
“Spock,” you repeated, feeling the name on the edge of your lips. You held out a hand, “P-pleased to meet you.”
He only looked at it quizzically and you withdrew your hand awkwardly.
--
You probably should have been more freaked out that you were, but for some reason you were calmly packing his wound and trying not to wrap the gauze around his midsection so tightly. You didn’t make eye contact-no, couldn’t as you tended to his wounds. Why did you feel so embarrassed? You had seen a man half naked before. You had slept fully naked with multiple people. Was it his ears? You almost had the inclination to pinch them, but seeing as he wouldn’t even shake your hand, that was a big no-no. Even people on earth didn’t do that-well, strangers didn’t.
You remember your grandmother snagging your ear after finding the broken window your baseball had sailed through.
Spaghetti was sitting on his other side, casually sniffing at him. He paid her no mind however.
Jesus, you thought, she’s never been this nice to a stranger.
“Y/N.”
You looked up and were met with dark eyes, deep and ever so slowly burning into your face.
“Thankyou for your assistance,” he continued, “The location of my wound is approximate five point seven centimeters from my heart and would have been fatal.”
“No problem,” you replied, sticking the final wrap of coban to itself, “Just don’t harvest my organs.”
What was supposed to be a half-hearted joke was met by silence. His brow furrowed for a split second and then returned to its default state of stone.
“I do not comprehend such a statement.”
You felt the color drain from you face a bit.
What if he was here to harvest you? Probe you, splay you on an operation table-wait.
“Your heart is in your stomach?” you back-peddled unintentionally.
“Precisely where a human’s liver would be located.”
Please don’t take my liver, Mister Spaceman.
Your face was still pale, eyes wide. He stared at you a moment. He gingerly grabbed the neatly folded stack of you grandfather’s clothes you provided him.
Spaghetti who had been sniffing him for over fifteen minutes at this point licked a long stripe up his cheek.
He finally acknowledged her, “No, thankyou. I presume this a...companion of some kind.”
“She’s my dog. Spaghetti.”
“Spaghetti,” he repeated. You assumed it was meant to be a question, but it came out more like a statement. His voice was so...even and monotone almost.
“That’s her favorite food.”
He nodded, “I see.”
“I assume you possess a lavatory in this domicile,” he said as he stood. Jesus, Spaceman was tall.
You pointed down the hall, “Second door to the left.”
“I shall return.”
You nodded, mouth feeling dry.
It had dawned on you, all at once, without warning.
You had an alien in your house-who knew where your liver was in your body.
But-you kept reminding yourself, his mother was from Earth. Meaning he was half human his self. What if that was a lie? He could speak English after all.
You glanced at the phone in the kitchen. No police would ever believe you over the phone. Even if someone showed up the wreck and Spock would be seized and then you’d be tossed in a looney bin for good measure. A total cover up, government style.
Maybe you were already in an institution, hallucinating all of this.
“Pinch me,” you murmured.
“Why would I perform such an act? It seems it would be unpleasant to you.”
You looked up to see Spock standing over you, a spectacle in your dead grandfather’s clothes.
“You seem unwell.”
You stood, still a good head shorter than he.
“Spock, why are you here?” you asked, trying to conceal the shiver
“Because you brought me here,” he replied, as if it was the only explanation you needed.
Smartass.
“No, Spock, on Earth,” you urged.
He tilted his head, “As I said before, my mother is Terran. I have always wanted to visit after hearing her stories.”
You nodded, half convinced, “What’s her name.”
“Amanda Grayson.”
“She’s-”
“Terran.”
“No,” you started, “She’s American?”
“Indeed,” he replied moving over to lean on the side of the couch. His hand had come to rest on his injured side. He did not make any kind of face to indicate he was uncomfortable, however.
“So...” you glanced around the room a bit, feeling around for a not completely obvious way to interrogate him, “What state is she from?”
“Iowa,” he answered simply. “That is where I was travelling to initially.”
“Oh, buddy, you’re way away from there,” you snorted.
“Still astute, aren’t you,” he retorted, a hint of sarcasm in his tone.
“What?” you asked, thrown off.
“I was simply stating that you are aware of your location in terms of state and distance from my intended location-”
“I know when someone’s being a smartass,” you rolled your eyes. “Anyway, what’re you doing all the way out here. Did you crash?”
Stupid question. You knew that already. You mentally slapped yourself.
“Affirmative.”
“Why?”
“That-” he answered, “is something I have yet to discover. That of which is something I would like to do now.”
--
“I’m not going out there with you,” you said, hands on each hip.
Spaghetti whined at his feet.
“I did not inquire upon you to accompany me,” Spock said pulling on a pair of rainboots, also your grandfather’s. It was so odd to see his clothes being used. It almost felt perverse. However, he did change back into his soaking wet clothes-at least the under tunic and slack that were under his robes.
It was oddly respectful.
“I don’t think you should go out there either,” you said, “You’re still hurt and the weather has gotten worse.”
“Precisely why I must return to the ship,” he said, already heading to the door, “There is a medical kit I must retrieve. These bandages will not suffice in helping my blood clot efficiently. The wound is much deeper than I initially realized and I am due to slowly bleed out over the next twelve hours.”
You made a face, fully flustered with him, “Why didn’t you tell me that?”
“I just did.”
You huffed. Men. “What if you get hurt worse than you already are?”
He looked down at you, “I did not say I was opposed to your company. I would let you go alone to retrieve the kit if it were not plausible that you would not get lost or injured in the process.”
“I’m not useless,” you said, pouting a little.
“Strange. You keep reiterating statements that I have not made, “ he remarked, “Mother does the same thing.”
Your neck flushed. You wasn’t sure if that was meant to be sweet or insulting.
“Are you to accompany me or not, pi' veh.”
A sharp thought pierced into your mind, causing your stomach to drop.
That’s just what he wants, isn’t it? To get you on his ship, alone, so he can splice you and-
“Y/N-you look unwell again.”
You grabbed your grandfather’s unused coat that had hung next to your grandmother’s, gathering dust on the hook for several years.
You handed it to him, “Be careful.”
Spaghetti woofed quietly followed by a little whine.
“No, you can’t go,” you said as the extra-terrestrial disappeared.
You slid down to the floor with your back to the door, leaning your head against the wood.
Spaghetti wined again.
“We have to be patient.”
You place your hand atop her head. She let it stay there for two seconds and then ducked, moving to lay beside you. You tried to scratch her ear, but she rolled over, woofing quietly.
“He said he had twelve hours before he bled out, “you said to yourself, “He’ll be fine.”
You closed your eyes.
--
You awoke with a start Spaghetti woofing into your ear. You could smell her rancid breath.
“Gross,” you shoved her away. How long had you been asleep?
You looked at the clock. Nearly an hour had passed. You looked around. The fire had died out completely and your grandfather’s boots and coat were still missing.
Fuck.
Spaghetti whined louder, nipping at your ankle.
“Okay, okay!” you sighed, “Fine! But you have to stay here this time.”
The dog plopped back down on her bottom as if acknowledging your statement.
You shakily grabbed your rain coat, still dripping a bit from earlier. You grabbed the flash light and the fire poker for good measure.
Gird your livers, folks.
You stepped out once again and cursed yourself for not changing back into your wet clothes once again like Spock had before. Now you’d be the proud owner of two sets of wet clothes.
Although the rain had lightened some the wet still settled through your coat and stuck like ice to your skin.
It was a bit easier to navigate down to the wreckage again as you retraced your steps in the flashlight’s beam. The smoke had been stifled and there was no light coming from the ship. The door was still down and you hesitantly took a step onto the ramp.
You nearly ate dirt as you slipped and fell onto your backside. Embarrassingly you continued forward on your hands and knees, clutching the flashlight in your armpit.
This is probably a trap, you mercilessly thought, or he’s dead.
Shit.
You made it inside a small cargo hold it seemed like and shined your light on what looked like a ladder. Little smears of green were on the bars.
His blood.
Shit again.
You shined a light up into the hole. “Spock!”
No answer.
“Spock, answer me!”
Nothing.
You took in a deep breath.
“You come down this instant! If you think you’re going to eat my liver you’re wrong buddy!”
“Vulcans are--vegetarian.”
Your heart did a leap at the sound of his voice and immediately settled in your stomach. He sounded out of breath.
“Are you okay?” You carefully began up the ladder, to what may have been your funeral. It was too late now. You were already invested.
“Spock?” you called again, in a softer voice.
You crawled into what you could only assume to be a cockpit with its control board and chairs. It was sleek and devoid of much color. It had a wide windscreen which showed blurry stars and rain streaks.
“Y/N.”
You turned to see Spock sitting again the wall with a some kind of kit in hand. It looked as if he had begun to staple his wound but had only got halfway. His hands were soaked in green.
“Spock!” you hissed and clambered closer.
“I thought you were not coming.”
“I thought you were dead.”
“Or to eat you, apparently.”
You ears flushed pink. “You’re bleeding all over the place!”
You noticed a set of shiny fabric squares at his hip and assumed were towels of some kind. You picked one up and carefully pressed it to the unstapled wound. You didn’t know what you were doing. Panic had already settled in. He was pale and you were afraid.
“The--local anesthetic was obliterated in the crash and I have found it somewhat difficult to operate under such conditions with one hand,” he explained eloquently even while wincing.
He pulled the towels away to demonstrate.
“You see, I need to hold the wound closed while I mend, but--” he tried to pinch his skin together, “-it keeps slipping. You must hold it together for me if I am to be successful.”
Your stomach turned again. “Oh-okay.”
You tucked the flash light between the crook of your neck and shoulder. The vessel was not completely out of light. There were very dims lights outline the windscreen, but it didn’t seem like enough.
You tried to pinch his skin together without your fingers dipping into the wound.
“That will do,” he said, continuing to staple. The clicking noise it made reminded you of when your aunt took you to get your ears pierced at the mall. Your grandmother had been furious. Your right ear had gotten infected.
You hoped furiously this wound didn’t get infected. You didn’t know if you could even get antibiotics for him, much rather if he could even take them.
“Do you have medicine here?”
“In the bag,” he replied evenly, trying to steady his breath.
Slowly he stapled and you moved your hands along until you both reached the end. He reached into the med kit and pulled out something that looked like a hollow tube filled with an orange fluid. He fumbled it with his bloody grip and you caught it.
“Press it to my abdomen, right above the sutures. There is a button on the side.”
You did as he told and he stifled a hiss. You heard a spraying sound, but saw nothing come of it. The orange fluid had disappeared.
Insulin?
“Medicine-” he answered as if he read your mind. “-to prevent infection.”
You returned the vial to the bag and grabbed a clean towel. You began to try to clean him up, shivering.
“Let’s go home.”
PART TWO
#spock x reader#Spock x fem!reader#TOS!spock#tos!spock x reader#spock#s'chn t'gai spock#mister spock#star trek#star trek TOS#startrek#lucycola
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Hold on (Rewrite)
Spock x Reader
Word count ~1,700
Author note: this is a complete rewrite of a story that I started before the tornado 2 years ago. I finally took time to rewrite it! I decided to go ahead and make this one big part instead of multiple small parts, considering each little part was less than a thousand words. I hope you enjoy this, it’s dear to my heart since it’s one of my first post tornado rewrites.
Spock and reader are on an away mission, when the battery drains in their devices. After surviving a brutally cold night, Spock has a confession to make to y/n. Mild danger, with some fluff at the end.
—————————————————————————
My hands crack from gathering berries and firewood all day. Fearing that the Enterprise would not find me before nightfall, I begin making preparations for how I will survive the night in this frigid weather. After sitting down at the campfire near the cave entrance, I hear footsteps approach. Just as I am about to grab my phaser, a familiar voice calls out.
“It would be illogical to cause harm to someone who is offering to help,” the voice says.
I breathe a sigh of relief. “Mr. Spock, I’ve never been so glad to see you.”
Spock nods, “it is fortunate that you are unharmed. Unfortunately, we will be stuck here for the night; the power from my tricorder has been drained.”
I check my phaser. “The power from my phaser has been drained as well.”
Spock glances at my hands in surprise. “You are injured, let me inspect your hands.”
“It doesn’t hurt that bad,” I fib, sitting on a rock beside him.
“I fear that you are in the beginning stages of frostbite. May I bandage your hands for you? It will not be much help to the current damage, but it could help to prevent further damage.” he replies, with an expression that would be blank to most, but I could see the slightest bit of concern.
“Oh, um, sure…” I stutter, trying to hide a blush, I had a small idea of what hand touching met to Vulcans. I gain composure and remind myself that this is strictly for medical reasoning, plus it would be illogical for my fellow, stone faced officer to make a move on me.
Spock grabs a salve and some wrap from his bag, and hands the salve for me. “You rub the salve over the frostbite, and I shall wrap them for you.”
I had to hold back a chuckle, thinking of how sensual it would be if he had to rub to salve on my hands himself. But also, would it be sensual if he saw me rubbing the salve on my hands.
“I don’t believe frostbite is very amusing Lieutenant Y/L/N,” Spock states. Perhaps my grin was a little too noticeable.
“Oh, sorry,” I state grabbing the salve, and starting to rub it on my hands (non sensually). “I was just remembering a previous conversation to distract me from the pain.”
Moments later, after I have made sure to medicate every inch of the frostbite, I hand the salve back to Spock.
“May I wrap your hands now?” he asks. I nod in response. He unravels the wrap, and lightly, grasps my wrist. “Please hold this end for me.”
I grab the end of the wrap with my thumb, and watch as he secures it, while being careful to not directly touch my hand. He then moves to the other hand, again being careful to not make any necessary hand contact.
“It is primitive, but it should suffice for now,” he states.
“Thanks,” I reply, gazing at my hands. “It’s going to be nightfall soon, do you think we should gather more firewood?”
“That will not be necessary. You do not need to further injury, and we must conserve our energy if we have any chance of survival.” Spock replies, sternly.
“What are the odds that the Enterprise finds us before we freeze to death?” I ask, realizing how dire our situation has become.
“I believe the odds are astronomical. Given how the temperature plummets after sunset, we will be lucky to survive the night,” he replies grimly.
I raise an eyebrow. “I thought that Vulcans didn’t believe in luck.”
“I don’t, however, you do. I suppose you are, as you humans say, ‘rubbing off on me,” he states.
“Seems logical to me,” I reply, shrugging my shoulders.
Spock looks around the cave for a moment. “You wouldn’t by chance have a thermal blanket in your bag? The blanket plus the amount of wood we have for the fire, could potentially be enough for our survival.”
I rummage through my bag for a moment. “I’ve got it,” I finally say, pulling the thermal blanket out. “Do you really think it will be enough?”
“Affirmative, however, for the best efficiency, we will have to sleep close to each other and share body heat,” he replies.
I turn my head to hide a blush. “If that is our best chance of survival, then I don’t have a complaint.”
We add wood to the fire, graze sparingly on the berries, and attempt to settle into sleep.
————————————-
When I awaken, I am hit with a burst of cold air, causing me to shiver violently. Something tightens its grip on me, and I soon notice that it is Spock holding onto me. I also notice that our fire has nearly been extinguished.
“Y/N, are you alright?” he asks, gazing down at me.
I shake my head. “I-I don’t know, everything f-feels cold.” My body trembles more.
He tightens his grip on me. “I am afraid that both of our body temperatures are dropping rapidly. If we do not restart the fire soon, we may surely die.” He moves to restart the fire.
“S-Spock, you’re Vulcan, you’ll freeze to death!” I cry out.
“And if I do nothing, we shall both perish, and that is not a risk that I am willing to take.” Spock removes himself from the thermal blanket, ensuring that I am still covered.
“Spock, p-please,” I barely speak.
“Y/N, please spare your strength, and don’t argue, logic dictates that I at least attempt to save us, or at least you.” An ember grows as he adds firewood, and as the light grows, I notice him begin to shake. Despite being stronger, I know Vulcans have lower cold tolerance.
My own shivers silence me, and I silently pray that he can build the fire back before freezing to death.
Warmth and fire light grow ever so slightly, and Spock manages to get the fire going, and make it back to the blanket. I wrap the blanket around us both, and he once again, wraps his arms around me.
“It may take some time for our body temperatures to regulate, but I believe the fire will last the rest of the night. Please hold on to me to stay warm,” he states.
“A-are we going to d-die?” I ask in fear.
Spock looks into my eyes. “Ashayem, I need you to listen to me. I need you to hold on to me. We will keep each other warm.”
I tremble. “It’s so cold. I don’t want to die.”
“Y/n, I promise you that everything will be alright. Do not let go, there are only a couple hours of night left. I assure you that we will survive the night, please hold on,” concern growing in his voice.
I nuzzle closer to him, hearing his heart beat rapidly in his side. “Mr. Spock, please distract me from the cold,” I barely whisper.
“And how shall I do that?” he asks.
“Tell me something sciencey, preferably about the stars. Which ones shine brightest?” I ask.
He begins to ramble about the structure of the Milky Way, the life cycle of stars, spilling facts left and right, until his voice lulls me back to sleep.
—————————
I awaken to a beam of sunlight shining in my eye, and notice that I am no longer freezing.
Spock nudges me, “Y/n, are you awake?”
I shift to where I am no longer pressed against Spock. “We’re alive?” I ask.
“Affirmative, did I not promise you that we would survive?” he states.
I stand up, and walk to the cave entrance, sitting on a rock. The sun warms my skin, and I welcome it, gazing at the flora or this strange planet. Soon, the rock shifts, and Spock sits beside me.
I pull my legs up to my face, and rest my chin on my knees. “It sure is a beautiful planet in the daylight.”
“Not quite so beautiful as you though,” he states.
“Huh?” I gaze at him in confusion, and he looks back with the slightest smile. My heart pounds in my chest. “Y-you think I’m beautiful?”
“To me, you are the most beautiful creature in this universe,” he replies.
I press my hand to his forehead. “I think the cold made you sick, sir.”
He shakes his head, and lightly chuckles. “I assure you my health is perfectly fine.”
“So then why are you calling me beautiful?” I ask.
“Y/n, I have always found you beautiful. We were dangerously close to death last night, and I am not prepared to die without expressing how I feel about you,” he explains.
“Spock I… I don’t know what to say,” I stutter. “But I feel just the same. I’ve always admired you, your wit, your vast knowledge of things, and um… the ears.”
He quirks an eyebrow. “You like my ears? Fascinating.”
“More than the ears, I think you are quite attractive,” I state, heart still pounding.
I gaze back an forth between his eyes and his lips, and he leans into me. I breach the gap, and press my lips to his. He takes little effort to lift me onto his lap.
He breaks the kiss, and looks into my eyes. “Ashayem, you are so beautiful.”
“Ashayem, means “my love” doesn’t it?” I ask.
“Yes, it does,” he replies.
“But you are Vulcan. Do you feel love?” I ask.
“I may not express it, but I guarantee you that I feel it. You must not have any doubt that I can love. I can find you beautiful, and I can love you,” he gazes at me with his beautiful brown eyes.
“I-I love you too, T’hy’la,” I reply.
His eyes widen slightly. “You have been studying about Vulcan?”
I nod my head. He smiles, and kisses me once more, this time with a little more passion.
“Kirk to Spock can you read me?” Spock’s tricorder speaks.
“Spock to Kirk, I hear you loud and clear,” he replies.
“Do you have Y/n with you?,” Captain Kirk asks.
Spock seats me back on the rock, stands and helps me stand. He lightly kisses the side of my head before replying, “Affirmative Captain, two to beam up.”
Once we made it back to the Enterprise, Spock was adamant that I get my frostbite checked out in medical, while still Trying not to seem suspiciously overprotective. I had a feeling that it would not be long until Doctor McCoy fished all the details out of me
#star trek#mr spock#spock#spock tos#spock x reader#mr. spock#st: tos#star trek fanfiction#Mr Spock x reader#Spock fanfic#leonard nimoy spock
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Imagine being in a situation where you have to hold Spock's hands— or like there's the expectation that you would touch his hands.
Like you have to dance with him? On an away mission? As a sign of respect to an another race/species?
So instead you awkwardly grab his wrist/forearm to try and not make him uncomfortable?
"You can grab my hand, I do not mind."
"No, it's fine. I dont want to make you uncomfortable."
"I would rather enjoy it if you grabbed my hand."
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Befriending Spock Headcanons
My first Star Trek content! Spock is my favorite character by far and I feel like he needs some love. A lot of my Star Trek content will be romantic, but I feel like especially with Spock, it's necessary to explore the first steps of just becoming friends, because it's harder to break down his walls and he's not one to just act on attraction at first sight.
Warnings: none
Word count: 1.1 k
- People have very different, often very polarizing opinions on Commander Spock. You'd heard more than enough stories about how cold, calculating, unforgiving, and inhuman he was.
- But when you met him, all you could think was that he was so cool.
- He was incredibly intelligent, capable of making smart and informed decisions regarding basically any situation that affected the ship in minutes, and always acted with absolute certainty. Despite that, he did not want a command of his own and readily accepted his own mistakes, readjusting accordingly. What was there not to admire?
- You tried your best to be friendly, but you knew it was a long shot. Not only was he a Vulcan, he was your commanding officer. You weren't sure how he regarded any sort of personal relationship, really.
- Still, you found yourself engaging him in light conversation in the halls, the mess hall, or the lift. You broke it off quickly if it didn't seem like he wanted to talk, which surprisingly was very infrequent. If you got him talking about science, or the history and philosophy of Vulcan, it was quite easy to get him to talk.
- Spock is... I'm not sure how he would describe it, but I suppose, pleasantly surprised to find someone that not only tolerates his discussion of such topics, but actively pursues them.
- Whether you know it or not, you've chosen the most effective method of breaking the ice.
- Spock encourages this by consulting you on data that is outside of the normal scope of your duties as often as possible. He enjoys being challenged, and surmises that you must, as well. You have a natural curiosity and a scientific mind, one that with proper training could even attain his level of authority in time. These discussions don't feel like replacement training sessions so much as informal academic chatter, though.
- Spock starts to show that he considers you a friend through verbal encouragement first. It's often very dry and hard to detect, but it's there.
- He once corrected you regarding a postulation you'd made when analyzing some data that was adjacent to your field. You said, "Oh, right, that makes more sense. Sorry, I'm a little stupid sometimes," out of habit, something that you knew you should probably grow out of.
- He looked at you, perplexed. "Ensign, you should not insult yourself for being unaware of a highly specialized piece of information that allowed me to see the facts in this particular light. Every scientist, no matter how intelligent, has their blind spots."
- You smiled at his encouragement before raising your eyebrow in doubt. "Even you?"
- Spock hesitated for a moment before considering his ineptitude in handling his friendship with his captain and now, it appeared, you as well. "Of course."
- You didn't believe him, but thought it was sweet of him to say so. "Thanks, Commander."
- "You may call me Mr. Spock, or Spock, if you prefer."
- "Sure thing, Mr. Spock."
- The Mr. gets dropped shortly after.
- Every smile you manage to get out of him is an absolute treasure, as it is very rare. Something tells me that the first smile he gives you would be in a situation in which you are distressed and he is trying to reassure you, perhaps he sustained a nasty injury and you are very concerned. The smile is fleeting and feels a little unnatural, but the effort he put into it was enough to convince you that he would recover. little did you know there was little effort expended--seeing your care for him, it was almost irresistible.
- Every smile you give him is treasured by him, though they are so much more frequent. It is true that humans smile with so little provocation, but it's still nice to know sometimes that he's the reason and not the butt of some joke (looking at you, Kirk and Bones)
- There are two facts about Vulcans that are very relevant to this situation: 1) Vulcans are touch telepaths, meaning that touch is very, incredibly personal and reserved for special situations (except for Sarek and Amanda cuz they're whores), and 2) Vulcans are, in fact, very emotional people.
- Keeping these facts in mind, there must be some way for Spock to express his feelings of appreciation and camaraderie for you, and it cannot be in the average human manner (handshakes, pats on the back, high fives)
- So instead, he takes a more vested interest in your wellbeing, asking if you've eaten, drank water, slept, etc. especially when you've come back from an away mission and are busy analyzing new data.
- You often seem to find each other following each of the Enterprise's adventures. These are often time-sensitive and life-threatening, and as a low-ranking science officer, often your only orders are to stay put and protect yourself.
- The first time or two after you've become friends, you try to hide how shaken you are--you know you're fine, really. You just can't help that your reaction to coming down off the adrenaline high is to literally shake and sometimes cry a bit.
- However, Spock sees through what you're trying to do and reassures you that you are safe. "I know."
- "I intended to convey that you are safe to express any emotions you may currently be experiencing."
- Oh.
- You usually end up sitting with Spock somewhere, your quarters, your lab, the mess hall, the holodeck, shaking and crying before recovering after a bit. The emotional expression always makes Spock a bit uncomfortable--not because he's disgusted by it, but because he doesn't have/doesn't feel comfortable expressing the skills or the emotional intelligence needed to interact with them.
- His simply being there is enough. You recover in 15 minutes or so and can carry on as before.
- "Have you considered consulting Dr. McCoy regarding the management of your anxiety surrounding these events? They seem to cause you a high degree of stress."
- You shrugged. "It's just my body's response, it doesn't bother me," you reassured him. "Besides, I've got you."
- The feeling of being needed in a way not associated with his intelligence or his duty was unexpectedly welcome.
- In time, he comes to take a more active role, bringing you food and water while you're working or offering to make a bit of progress on your work while you take a short rest--Vulcans don't require as much sleep as humans, after all.
- After a while of this, you mention to him that you feel that you could be a more proactive friend, when he takes so much time and effort to look out for you, and ask him what you could do.
- He looks at you, perplexed. "Your presence in my life is quite sufficient," he assures you. "Your companionship proves to be a gratifying part of my daily routine in any measure."
- He has no idea how sweet he can be.
#star trek#star trek tos#star trek aos#star trek the original series#star trek fanfiction#star trek headcanons#star trek spock#spock tos#spock aos#spock x reader#platonic spock
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Love Languages TOS HCs: Kirk, Spock, McCoy
Prompts: How do the TOS Kirk, Spock, and McCoy show their love and what are some things they love to do with their partner.
James T. Kirk
Words of Affirmation
He loves to give pep talks, and enjoys receiving them when he needs them.
When you call him "Captain or Sir" in the gentlest tones he practically melts.
If you run your fingers through his hair and call him a "Good Boy or Good Captain.", he feels completely renewed and invigorated.
He'll call you all sorts of cute pet names; "Sunshine, Honey-Bun, Sweetie."
But he needs you when he calls you; "My Sunshine, My Star, My Ensign."
He'll lay in your lap while you stroke his hair and remind him of how great of a leader he is, and how much you love him.
"Ensign, I need you. I need my sunshine."
Physical Touch
He feels so lonely when he can't hold your hand.
While on the bridge he gives you firm pats on the back, ruffles your hair, kisses your hand, or even sneaky hugs from behind.
If you initiate the physical touch that is even better, he can practically feel the love flowing from your fingers.
During your off-hours, he will constantly be looking for cuddles and snuggles.
He even whines and groans if he has to get up or if you have to get up. He's so cute when he's pouty.
He loves to lay in your lap and have you run your fingers through his hair while you read to him.
Jim: "I feel so lost without you, take me in your arms, and promise to never let go."
Ensign (L/N): "Jim, we're working and you're standing five feet away from me."
Jim: "That's too far!"
Quality Time
He wants to spend as much time with you as possible, but he wants to make it meaningful.
The two of you read to each other, as well as play games, dance, and do a variety of other things.
He likes to have "in-quarters" dates because he feels like he can be more of himself around you.
He loves to have movie dates where you take turns picking movies and making snacks.
He will totally do your nails and braid your hair.
You two will most definitely hold the best slumber parties in Star Fleet history.
"I think this shade suits you better don't you think? After this, we can watch that new rom-com that just came out on Vulcan."
S'Chn T'Gai Spock
Acts of Service
In Vulcan Culture what you do for each other is more than what you say.
While he loves to help you and ensure you're well taken care of, when you do the same for him he knows that you care.
If you notice that he may be overwhelmed and step in to assist him you can practically hear his heart pounding.
He always appreciates it if you help him with the task and work on it together.
If you forgot to finish a report don't worry he'll help you finish.
If he is struggling on the bridge, you're there to take orders and provide additional aid!
Spock: "Thank you for your help, Ensign. I appreciate the assistance."
McCoy: "Get a room!"
Quality Time
He loves it when you spend time together, even if it's some mindless task or chore.
He does try to find more interesting ways of spending time together.
He may teach you things about his culture; how to read, write, and speak Vulcan, how to play the Vulcan Harp, and how to cook Vulcan meals.
He may ask you to show him things you enjoy; your favorite books, your favorite meals, your favorite activities, etc.
He may even propose trying new things together; such as taking a class or workshop.
Anything and everything he can do with you is always greatly appreciated by him.
"If you are interested in further study might I recommend this. I think you may enjoy it."
Physical Touch
He is so touch-starved, and all he wants to do is hold hands.
When you first hold hands it was a bit of a shock to feel your minds link.
Soon the two of you could barely keep your hands off of each other.
He's always reaching out for an ozh'esta (* finger embrace). (Just like his father. *cough**cough*)
When the two of you are alone in your quarters he enjoys sitting across from you, pressing his forehead against yours and holding your hands.
He feels so comforted by your touch. You ease his mind bringing him so much warmth and comfort.
" When I am with you, it is as if I have found another part of myself I did not know I was missing."
Leonard McCoy
Quality Time
McCoy values time with you above all else.
He prefers to spend his off hours wrapped up in a large fluffy blanket cuddled with you.
He does like to do fun things like take you dancing or going for moonlit shore walks.
But because he spends most of his time in sickbay he prefers to sit and not move as much as possible.
He feels bad that he can't do what a younger partner might.
But you always reassure him by greeting him in your pajamas and a fuzzy robe.
Ensign L/N: *wearing an old fuzzy bathrobe and slippers* "You want to stay in tonight? I found an old western movie and picked up some ice cream from the commissary."
McCoy: *trying not to cry* "That's the best idea I've heard all day. I love you so much damn it."
Acts of Service
He hates to see you get hurt but always loves it when you visit him.
When you get sick or hurt he stops everything he's doing to help you.
When he gets sick or hurt and you stop everything you're doing to help him, he's a mess.
He kind of likes it when you're bossy with him, making sure he's drinking water and eating.
You always make sure he's well looked after and you always visit him regularly.
A doctor's favorite patient may be one he doesn't see but he'd prefer if you stop by now and again.
"Stop your belly-achin' and relax. I'll check on you again soon. You're lucky I love you so much."
Words of Affirmation
He doesn't show it often but he can get insecure about your relationship.
He doesn't feel like he's up to the task like he used to be when it comes to romance.
You'll sometimes see him looking in the mirror longer or running his hands over his stomach.
But when you compliment him or tell him how much you love him all of his worries disappear.
He gets all grumpy at first until you coax out the truth.
He will let you know what is bothering him and you'll make sure to help him through it one step at a time.
"Some days I don't even know why you'd want to spend time with an old man like me. But I always appreciate that you do."
#star trek#star trek the original series#star trek tos#tos#x reader#james t kirk#james kirk#kirk#s'chn t'gai spock#mr spock#spock#leonard mccoy#dr mccoy#mccoy#tos kirk#tos spock#tos mccoy#tos kirk x reader#tos spock x reader#tos mccoy x reader#james t kirk x reader#james kirk x reader#kirk x reader#s'chn t'gai spock x reader#mr spock x reader#spock x reaer#leonard mccoy x reader#dr mccoy x reader#mccoy x reader
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Recently became obsessed with TOS Spock. No I’m not a hardcore Treky and really never have been a space sci-if fan I’m just horny for this dude that looks like a vampire to me. Gonna post silly edits and fan art and fan fiction. 👽 💕
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Lay All Your Love On Me - Chapter 1
Rating: General Audiences
Archive Warning: No Archive Warnings Apply
Category: Multi
Fandom: Star Trek: The Original Series
Relationships:
James T. Kirk/Reader, Spock (Star Trek)/Reader, Leonard "Bones" McCoy/Reader, James T. Kirk & Reader, Spock (Star Trek) & Reader, Leonard "Bones" McCoy & Reader, James T. Kirk & Leonard "Bones" McCoy & Spock
Characters:
Spock (Star Trek), James T. Kirk, Leonard "Bones" McCoy, Reader, You
Additional Tags:
Fluff, Tooth-Rotting Fluff, Sleepy Cuddles, Leonard "Bones" McCoy Needs a Hug, Spock Needs a Hug (Star Trek), James T. Kirk Needs a Hug, They all get one, Touch-Starved, Reader-Insert, Beta Read by My Friend
Summary:
Your attempt to convince Bones to take better care of himself leads to the touch-starved triumvirate discovering that you are a very good hugger, and you are more than happy to provide them with the attention they so desperately need. Several cuddle sessions later, the three of them team up to return the favour.
There is no use of Y/N. Gender-neutral pronouns are used, and there is no physical description of you. Can be read as either romantic or platonic.
Is this another incredibly self-indulgent cuddle fic? Yes. Yes, it is.
Will be releasing a new chapter every day! (4 total)
#star trek#star trek tos#fanfic#fanfiction#star trek fanfiction#reader insert#kirk x reader#bones x reader#spock x reader
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