And you realize Leonard 'Bones' McCoy x Reader A/N: Hello there =3 If you can't tell, I'm giving Ichigo a break and writing a few Star Trek Reader Inserts So, yeah... Onward~
You sigh as the bartender slides another drink to you, running a hand through your (H/L) (H/C) hair. Another crappy day and another crappy breakup, just your normal routine. You aren’t sure why, but you seem to attract assholes like flies and they never stop pestering you. Speaking of which…
“Hi there, gorgeous.” A man practically purred as he slid into the seat next to you. You narrowed your (E/C) eyes in a glare, hoping to dissuade him but, of course, he was stubborn. He just grinned at you, blue eyes sparkling with mischief as he ruffled his sandy-blonde hair in a way that he must have thought was sexy. Rolling your eyes you open your mouth to tell him to leave you alone when a gruff voice stops you.
ST - Christmas CompanyIt was Christmas Eve, and Jim Kirk was depressed. He was holed up in his quarters on board the USS Enterprise, lounging on his bed, his lights set on a low setting. He was still dressed in his command gold, just getting off of Alpha shift for the night. Part of him regretted not going directly to sick bay to steal some of Bones' hidden stash of wonderful and questionable alcoholic items, but Jim really didn't want any company at the moment. Instead he was content to suffer his loneliness in silence, the concept at which he had already bitterly laughed at himself for, picturing, in his mind, what Spock would say to that. Something along the lines of his whole mood being illogical and reprimanding him in that perfectly Vulcan way, and then sending him along down to sick bay anyway.
He heard the override code to his door being punched in from outside. He could already tell, by the sound of the keys getting mashed much harde
Star Trek TOS: What is MineKirk moved silently, his steps quiet even against the backdrop of the room (with the exception of the epiphany of the clacking keyboard) before wrapping an arm around his First Officer's wraist and leaning down so that his head was nested on the crook of Spock's shoulder, eyes half closed as he watched elegant hands type out a sheet from what must be an entire month's worth of paperwork. Not once did he pause his work or even falter, even when Kirk decided to lay a chaste kiss on his neck- but it did certainly amuse him, as cued by a slight raise of an eyebrow when he felt the lips against his flesh curve into Jim's distinct grin.
"You must stop sneaking in like this, Captain." Spock finally replied after a few moments when he had finished his work, turning around so he met the gaze of his commander, "We could very much be caught."
"Can one ever sneak up on one of your kind?" light brown eyes danced with playful light, teasing but not quite. The already present smile deepened as he saw
Touch and Sensation___________________________
Touch and Sensation
Sometimes he forgets. When he has been away from the ship too long, away from his t'hy'la, he forgets who he is when Jim is there.
His fingertips are so very sensitive. He runs them across Jim's cheek, allowing himself to revel in the texture of his stubble as it passes under inquisitive skin.
No matter where he is, or who he is with or who he is when he is with them this is his true essence. This person that he is, when he is with Jim, is everything he values about himself wrapped into one.
Watching as Jim wakes from the light half sleep he had entered against Spock's side, the Vulcan cannot help it when a smile hovers at the edges of his lips. Jim's hair is tossled and messy, and it makes him look even more attractive than he is when it is straightened not that Spock would ever admit that to the Human.
"How long was I out?" he asks, blinking up at Spock from where his head is resting on t
Star Trek: The ArguementStar Trek: The Argument.
By Charlotte Skye.
Slash: Kirk/Spock. Rated: M-mild R perhaps. More explicit than I usually do!
Swallowing his pride, Jim entered the ships laboratory wing. He knew Spock had taken his words hard and completely to heart. The words had come in a moment of anger and, as they demanded, the Vulcan had left his presence and not returned despite the hurt Jim knew Spock was feeling. A long, slow hour had passed since they had argued and Jim had finally succumbed, unable to stand the memory of Spock's wounded expression any longer. The subject of their disagreement had been trivial in nature, as Spock had tried to convey, but the captain had never been one to back down. His words had become more and more heated until finally he had delivered the cruel blow:
"You don't understand how I feel, Spock!" he had snarled, "how could you?!"
Jim had seen the pain flood into Spock's eyes and immediately regretted his words. He should have taken the Vulcan into his arms the
Meet Me HalfwayHis Captain is distracted.
In and of itself, this is not unusual behavior. The unpredictability of his captain's actions engendered an understandable amount of distraction. And yet, Spock considers himself the expert on Kirkish behavior. He has spent the better part of a year studying his Captain, both on and off duty.
And there is definitely something wrong with his behavior. Jim is sprawled over his command chair, unconcerned with the mission at hand: standard procedure. But his eyes are unfocused; his head leaned against the back of his chair. In his ears are the plugs of some archaic device Spock recognizes as a personal music player, and his strong, thin fingers were tapping out a beat on the chair arm.
Jim's lips are moving in a pattern, his voice too low for a Human to hear the words he is murmuring under his breath.
Suppressing a certainly un-Vulcan like start, Spock realizes he is yet again spending too much time focused on his captain, and places his attention back
Star Trek TOS: Deny Me NotWhen I first looked back at the events we had been so recently subjected to- the Pon Farr and the duel in which Spock had fought me (as so lost was he in his blood fever) with all intents to kill- I had recalled fear, and fear had not been kind.
The memories had risen to me a few times after we had left Vulcan, involuntarily breaking into the abode of my conscious thought when they did. They materialized in the form of momentary flashbacks, never lasting too long but long enough to always send an abrupt chill crawling across my spine as if someone, without warning, poured a glass of ice water on me only for the sake of my due reaction- and maybe perhaps yes, my due confession that it was within those lapses of time that some of that mentioned emotion was spawned out of. It hadn't been a fear for the loss of my life as every member of the Starfleet was prepared to sacrifice themselves for a greater purpose if necessary- but more like a fear birthed out of the knowledge of the ide
A HeartbeatTitle: A Heartbeat
Series: Star Trek: 2009
Genre: I guess this would be angst?
Summary: A heartbeat. Such a complex thing, if you stop to consider it. Most people, he is aware, do not they know it exists, and leave it at that.
Disclaimer: I do not own these characters, much as I may want to.
A heartbeat. Such a complex thing, if you stop to consider it. Most people, he is aware, do not they know it exists, and leave it at that. The intricacies of biology and all it entails escape them, and they are content.
Intellectually, he knows that the organ is vital for the existence of any living being. That it is the strongest muscle and accomplishes its purpose of circulating blood cells that carry necessary nutrients and oxygen through the arteries and veins in the cells' endless cycle through the body. In the detached clinical processes of his mind the heart is nothing more