#spock reader inserts

[fanfictionismyaddiction]

So could you do a Star Trek one with Spock (or whoever you write for as I can’t find that post now😭) with an SO who is visiting home on earth and keeps on bringing him interesting rocks she finds?

Stones and Stars

word count: 940

Pairing: Spock x human!reader

Summary: Y/n visits her home on Earth with Spock, enthusiastically collecting interesting rocks and sharing them with him, while Spock patiently admires her fascination and offers scientific insights, deepening their bond.

______________________________________________________________

Y/n stood on the quiet shore of her family’s lake house on Earth, her bare feet sinking into the soft sand. The sun was setting, casting a warm, amber glow over the still waters, and the air carried the scent of pine trees from the nearby forest. It was a moment of peace, of home, far away from the busy corridors of the Enterprise.

Behind her, Spock stood observing the surroundings, his hands clasped behind his back. He had agreed to accompany Y/n on her visit to Earth, a rare chance for her to reconnect with her roots and for him to experience the human world outside of Starfleet’s structured environment.

Y/n bent down, running her fingers over a small, smooth stone nestled in the sand. She smiled, picking it up and turning it over in her palm. Its surface was streaked with tiny veins of quartz, glimmering faintly in the fading light. She approached Spock, holding it up for him to see.

“Look at this one, Spock,” she said, a playful grin spreading across her face. “Isn’t it beautiful?”

Spock raised an eyebrow, taking the stone from her hand with the precision of a scientist inspecting a specimen. “Indeed,” he remarked, turning it over slowly. “The mineral composition appears to contain a significant amount of quartz, likely formed by years of pressure beneath the Earth’s surface.”

Y/n chuckled softly. “You always know how to make things sound so... scientific.” She watched him closely, enjoying the subtle curiosity that flickered in his dark eyes as he studied the rock. It was a small thing, but seeing Spock’s fascination with something as simple as a stone warmed her heart.

After a moment, Spock handed the rock back to her, inclining his head. “It is an interesting specimen. However, I do not believe it holds particular significance beyond its geological properties.”

Y/n laughed again, more at the formality of his response than the words themselves. “It’s not about the science, Spock. It’s about the beauty of it. Sometimes, things are worth appreciating just because they’re nice to look at.”

Spock’s expression softened, a subtle shift that only Y/n had learned to recognize after all their time together. “I see,” he replied, his voice thoughtful. “You derive pleasure from observing the aesthetics of natural formations.”

“Exactly.” She beamed, slipping the stone into her pocket. “It’s a little piece of home.”

They continued walking along the shoreline, Y/n occasionally stopping to inspect another rock or shell. She collected a small handful of them, showing each one to Spock with the same enthusiasm as the first. Though he did not share her penchant for collecting seemingly random objects, he never dismissed her excitement, responding to each discovery with patient interest.

As they reached the edge of the forest, Y/n bent down again, this time retrieving a larger, rougher stone. Its surface was jagged, unlike the smooth pebbles from the beach, and it seemed to carry the weight of ancient time within its weathered surface.

“This one feels different,” she murmured, brushing off the dirt. “It’s heavier… older, maybe?”

Spock took the stone from her, his long fingers tracing the irregular contours. His eyes narrowed in contemplation, and for a moment, he said nothing.

“You are correct,” he finally said, his voice low and thoughtful. “This rock likely originates from deeper beneath the Earth’s surface, perhaps pushed upward by tectonic activity.”

Y/n leaned in closer, intrigued. “Do you think it’s volcanic?”

Spock’s lips quirked, the closest he ever came to a smile. “It is possible. The rough texture suggests it may have been exposed to intense heat.”

Y/n couldn’t help but marvel at the way Spock could transform an ordinary rock into something extraordinary with his explanations. She rested her head against his shoulder, content in the silence that followed.

“You know,” she began softly, “I used to collect rocks like these when I was a kid. I’d bring them back to my room and pretend they were treasures from some distant planet.”

Spock turned his head slightly to look at her, his gaze thoughtful. “Your fascination with these objects seems to persist.”

Y/n smiled up at him. “Maybe it’s just nostalgia. Or maybe it’s because now, with you, it feels like I really am collecting treasures from other worlds.”

Spock raised an eyebrow, his expression softening further. “An intriguing perspective.”

They stood there for a moment, the quiet of the forest around them, the distant sound of water lapping at the shore. Y/n reached for Spock’s hand, intertwining her fingers with his.

“I’m glad you came with me,” she whispered. “It’s nice to share this part of my world with you.”

Spock squeezed her hand gently. “I find it… agreeable to observe Earth through your eyes, Y/n.”

She laughed softly, knowing that was as close to romantic as Spock would get. And that was more than enough for her.

As they walked back toward the house, the last light of day fading into twilight, Y/n tucked another rock into her pocket. This one was small and round, polished smooth by the water, and it sparkled faintly in the moonlight.

“I think I’ll keep this one,” she said, holding it up for Spock to see. “A souvenir of today.”

Spock tilted his head, his dark eyes reflecting the silver of the moon. “You seem to have acquired quite the collection.”

Y/n grinned. “I’m just getting started.”

And as they walked hand in hand beneath the stars, Y/n couldn’t help but feel that every rock, every moment, was a little treasure they shared in their own universe, one that Spock, in his own unique way, understood perfectly.

[strawwritesfic]

Kelvin!Spock x Female!Human!Reader: Mr. Right

Summary: When one door closes, another opens—perhaps the door you were meant to enter all along.

Warnings/Tags: Starship Enterprise; post-Star Trek Beyond; friends to lovers; breakup; almost kiss; counselor!reader; Star Trek: The Original Series references; Star Trek: The Next Generation references

Relationships: Spock/Reader; Spock & Nyota Uhura; past!Spock/Nyota Uhura; past!Kevin Riley/Reader

Challenge: “160 Collective Drabbles” challenge by BobaPop on Lunaescence Archives.

Requester: @lovemesomeescapism

Tag List: @imaginesfire

Notes: For once, this is not a repost for this challenge…technically. I did write a response to the prompt "Mr. Right" ages ago, but when I was reposting, I decided that the Now You See Me one shot I wrote really wasn't worth keeping. Someone on Tumblr asked me for a Spock one shot, so I slipped him in as a replacement.

It's been a really long time since I finished something new. I realize that I am rusty. This is actually several drafts into attempts to write this one shot. For the first time ever, I actually cannibalized previous drafts while trying to get the meandering dialogue and point back on track. It still doesn't feel quite "right" to me, but it's probably going to take some time before I get back in the swing of things, and I'm ready to let this one go.

Mr. Right

Throughout Terra's history, human beings had sought the comfort of white noise. Quiet droning sounds proved beneficial for many aspects of mental health in the species. As a counselor on board the U.S.S. Enterprise, you'd recommended listening to white noise to dozens of fellow crewmates and patients alike. The best way to do this in the deep space you'd all been exploring for nearly five years was to turn everything in one's quarters down until the low hum of the ship's warp drive became audible. Many of those crewmates and patients reported back to you with decreased stress levels, improved mood, and a distinct uptick in ability to concentrate. Almost all of them said they got better sleep.

Now you learned that every single one of them had lied to you.

You'd spent the better part of the evening-adjacent hours lying face-down on your sofa, trying and failing to take a nap. The scratchy, standard-issue pillow beneath your face was soaked with tears. Your chest ached. Worst of all, any attempt on your part to get your mind off what upset you just ended with you crying harder. All the while, that awful rumble went on and on and on and on relentlessly, allowing you no respite long enough to drift off and forget your current predicament.

A chime cut through your misery. You paused without so much as lifting your head. As of three hours prior, you were officially off duty for the day. Nothing required you to answer the door unless an order came down from a superior officer, and they would call first. Probably it was only Uhura coming by to check on you. Having been through her own breakup during this voyage, surely she would understand when you didn't let her inside.

The chime sounded again, and with it came a surge of possibilities flooding your mind. What if your visitor was dealing with a crisis? Cases of PTSD had been on the rise since the events on Altamid. You could hardly ignore that in favor of your own small, personal crisis. Off duty or not, your role as a ship's counselor would not allow you to wallow in self-pity when someone might need your help.

As your boots hit the floor, you pressed one sleeve of your rumpled blue uniform to the corner of each eye. The gesture wouldn't do much to disguise what you'd been doing over the course of your time off, but you felt a little steadier afterward. Breathing deeply in and out helped too—until you hiccuped. But you could prepare yourself no more. Squaring your shoulders, you stood, walked over to the door leading to the corridor, and opened it.

Just outside stood the familiar, lanky figure of the ship's science officer. The second you spotted him, you wiped your sleeve across your face with greater urgency.

"You're not one of my patients," you said, "or Uhura."

"A very astute observation, Lieutenant [L Name]," Spock replied.

A long moment elapsed during which the two of you stared at one another. Several fellow crewmates in various uniform colors threw curious looks at his back as they passed by on their ways to wherever they were headed. Your friend, meanwhile, allowed a single dark eyebrow to drift toward his hairline. He clearly had no intention of moving on.

"What are you doing here?" you sighed at last.

The wayward eyebrow rejoined its brother. "Lieutenant Commander Uhura informed me that you left your office this afternoon in distress. I note that her assessment was an accurate one. If anything, you appear to be in more distress now than she described to me then."

You couldn't lie to Spock, not when you looked the way you looked after a crying jag like the one you'd just had. So you didn't bother to try. "Fine. I'm in distress. But really, Spock, it's not the kind of distress you can help with. I'm sure Captain Kirk will need you on a landing party any minute now, so if you'll excuse me—"

"Lieutenant Commander Uhura also informed me of the cause of your distress."

"Of course she did." Sometimes you wished your two friends were a little lighter on the "amicable" part of "amicable exes." "Let me guess: You came by to tell me that you told me so."

"As a Vulcan, I have no reason to rub my correct prediction in your face, if you will forgive the Terra colloquial."

You let out a wet laugh despite yourself. "You're pardoned."

"What I have done is stopped by the mess hall. If I am not much mistaken, ice cream is a traditional consolation food in these types of situations."

He produced from behind his back a number of different colored tapes. So startled were you that you found yourself unable to say anything. Never in a million years would you have imagined Spock of all people standing in front of you and offering you junk food of all things. Your silence went on for so long that he had to prompt you to speak:

"Was I incorrect in my understanding of how to handle Terran breakups?"

"No," you said, then, "I just didn't want you to find out about the breakup until I could pull myself together."

"I surmised as much, given that Lieutenant Commander Uhura found out about your circumstances before I did, although you and I are closer friends. It would have been more logical for you to contact me for assistance than her."

Vulcans as a whole were difficult to read. Even factoring in your education and training, as well as your friendship with Spock that had gone on for several years now, you could only guess his feelings the majority of the time. Not so then. Something about his tone made him sound hurt. Maybe you could chalk that up to projecting your own feelings onto him, but you couldn't risk that assumption.

"It's just that you warned me against dating Kevin," you explained. "As ship's counselor, I should have seen the end coming a kiloparsec away."

"Perhaps. But one might also say that your extensive proximity to the crew's emotions might cause some loss in objectivity on your part."

"So you're not here to make me feel worse?"

"I came for consolation purposes. That is all."

"Well, all right, then."

You stepped away from the doorway. Spock followed you in. He paused only long enough to press the button to close the door before he came to join you in your sitting room. A crate sat on the floor along his path, and he looked at you questioningly as he walked by it.

"Those are Kevin's things," you said.

"Expedient," he observed.

Normally, you might have tried to go for a little more decorum around him, but that day you didn't have the energy to do more than flop back onto your couch. At least you were upright. Spock, on the other hand, claimed a dignified perch at the end of your chair. The two of you certainly made an odd pair.

"He had so many hair products!" you burst out when the awkward silence turned unbearable. "I should have known we wouldn't work out. Who brings that much hair spray into deep space?"

"Humanity can hardly be expected to iron out all its flaws when you all cling so hard to your baser emotions."

"Do you mean Kevin's desire to look nice, or my need to be in a relationship?"

Spock blinked, then smoothly said, "In this case, I refer to your former beau's preoccupation with personal grooming."

"Right. Either way, I'm about ready to get rid of all my own baser emotions. Not feeling them would be a blessing." You got back to your feet and thrust one hand in Spock's direction. "Ice cream tape, please."

He offered one to you.

"Spock," you said warningly.

"I do not believe that heartbreak is an excuse to overeat. I only brought so many because I was unsure which flavor you would select."

The glare you leveled at him seemed to make him think better of lecturing you on the dangers of gluttony—as well it should have. This was the same glare that you gave Dr. McCoy when you were tired of listening to him. Unlike with Dr. McCoy, you smiled once Spock dropped the rest of the tapes into your outstretched hand.

"Thank you." You headed for your in-quarters food producer, then turned your head to ask over your shoulder, "What flavor do you want?"

"I do not require ice cream."

"Come on, Spock. If you're going to spend the evening commiserating with me, you have to have some ice cream, too. That's a critical part of the Terran breakup process."

One corner of his mouth twitched. "I'll have pistachio, then."

You fed the yellow-green tape into the slot. A quiet beeping noise covered the hum of the warp drive as the computer worked. While you waited, you flipped through the remainder of the flavors until you found the one you wanted.

"I don't think it would be a good idea for you to give up emotions," Spock said.

"Huh?" Frowning at him, you replaced his tape with yours. "Aren't you the guy that's been talking about doing the Kolinahr when we get back to Earth?"

"That's different. I am a Vulcan."

"Half Vulcan."

"Vulcan enough."

A shriller beep put an end to this potentially sticky subject. The ice creams were ready. You dumped the rest of the tapes in a basket next to the food producer, picked up the bowls, and brought them back to the living room. Spock took his with a grateful nod, though he waited until you sat down again before taking a bite.

"Maybe I'd be a better counselor if I didn't have emotions," you mused. "If I wasn't blinded by my own feelings, I could help the crew more with theirs. I shouldn't have the same problems as they do after all the studying I've done."

"While that may indeed make sense, it is hardly realistic. Besides, if you did not have your human emotions, you would no longer be the [Name] that I know, and I believe that I would miss her."

You couldn't help but smile around the spoon in your mouth. Popping that out, you said, "I bet you say that to all the Terrans you like."

"Hardly. In fact, that captain may benefit from an hour or two without his usual emotions."

"I appreciate you saying that, Spock."

"I am only speaking the truth. I have no intention of bolstering your ego artificially, even if doing so is a part of the Terran breakup process."

"I know." You slowly lowered your spoon back to the bowl, staring off into space. Something was dawning on you—something that might have dawned on you sooner had you not been so enthralled with your own feelings. "You know what else I appreciate? You coming here to help me today. Not every first officer would go out of their way for a ship's counselor like that."

Spock fixed you with an unblinking gaze as he said, "You mean a great deal more to me than most ship's counselors mean to their first officers."

"I don't care what Captain Kirk says. You sure know how to make a woman blush."

"I have had some practice with the activity."

"Remind me to thank Uhura later."

"Thank her for what?" Spock asked.

Maybe you were reading the signs wrong. Maybe you were just desperate. If he had to ask, you had to be wrong. But you took a deep breath anyway, and said, "Helping me realize that maybe the guy I've been looking for this whole time has been my best friend all along."

How could it have taken you this long to work it out? No one else spent as much time with you as Spock did, not outside of your office hours. It didn't matter if you were in the mess hall asking for a round of Fizzbin after dinner or you wanted a quiet night in your quarters. He always seemed to be there. You felt comfortable around him. Maybe you didn't always understand Spock; maybe Spock didn't always understand. But you didn't enjoy anyone's company the way you did his. And you had to wonder when your eyes met just then if he felt the same way, and if this coming-to-see-you-with-ice-cream thing was his way of showing you that.

"Well," he moistened his lips before going on, "I certainly feel that our relationship is founded more steadily upon mutual interests and desires than it is upon a passion for hair products."

You leaned forward. "You know, that sort of relationship sounds really appealing right about now."

"It does?" Spock shifted closer to you.

"I think it's about time that I dated someone whose first thought in the morning isn't beating me to the sonic shower, don't you?"

By that time, you both had come so close that it wouldn't have taken much more movement on either of your parts to touch lips. Your heart gave a painful leap inside your chest. Was this too much too fast? Even if you had just realized you'd had a thing for Spock for a while now, you had only just broken up with your last boyfriend that morning. Treating Spock as a rebound was the last thing you wanted to do. He didn't seem to mind, though. His mouth drew closer and closer to yours until you could feel his breath on your face.

The communicator in your room chirped. You jumped. Spock paused before sitting back up in his chair. Then you rose wordlessly, stepped over to the panel, cleared your throat, and pushed the button.

"[L Name]," you said.

"[Name]?" Uhura did not remark on how breathless you sounded, thankfully. "I need to talk to Spock."

"It's for you," you said unnecessarily. Spock had already reset his face into its typical blank mask and made his way to the communicator himself.

"Spock here. What is it, Lieutenant Commander?"

"Captain Kirk needs you on the bridge. We have a situation up here."

"What kind of a situation?"

"There's a former United States President floating outside the ship. He says he needs our help."

"I will be there right away."

A second chirp signaled that communications between your room and the bridge had ceased. Spock turned back to you.

"My presence is needed on the bridge," he said.

"So I heard."

"I apologize. I believe we were in the middle of something."

"It's all right."

He didn't move.

"Spock, go. Don't you want to know why a deceased historical figure has asked for the Enterprise's help?"

"I'd prefer to stay here," Spock said. "But you are correct. I must leave. Will you still be here later tonight?"

"Yeah." You surprised yourself with the eagerness of your answer. "Yeah, I will. I promise I won't run off with any other lieutenants while you're away. I'll save the rest of the ice cream. We can share it when you get back."

There it was: The slight curl to Spock's mouth that told you that you weren't making up the mutual attraction between you both after all. "To use another Terran phrase, it's a date."

He hesitated another moment longer before he quickly exited your quarter. You grinned as the door slid shut behind him and the white noise returned full force. As you sunk into your couch and pillow this time, you found you didn't mind the hum as much. In fact, the sound did exactly what it was supposed to do: Relax you. Kevin and his excuses from that morning felt farther away than your own home planet. Maybe you owed him a thank you, too, because if you were still with him, you wouldn't have slept as well as you did that night knowing that Spock would be back soon.

[jester-lover]

You don’t get it, when I write Star Trek reader insert fanfiction, I’m participating in a tradition spanning over 50 years

[lamelycool]

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.

[etherealspacejelly]

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)

[spacejellycreates]

Cuddlebug

What do you do when your Vulcan best friend accidentally gets high on catnip and takes you hostage for a cuddle session? Accept your fate and enjoy the attention, I suppose!

Little bit of a crackfic, Spock is OOC because he's high as a kite.

Gender-neutral reader, no use of y/n

Tag list (Let me know if you would like to be added or removed!):

@fraudfrogz @wiggles-mcgee @nothoughtsgayboy @dobry-slimak @biblically-accurate-chaos

@emilytheghostwitch @shortergaything @bhawk-goose @thegeniusidiotnstickmerchant3728

[oneshortstack]

Imagine

spock gently holding his hand out as you walk behind him on a mission when coming upon an enemy, Blocking you from harm that may or may not be coming.

[starryeyes2000]

Dating Advice: Bat Cave

Read on AO3 or FFN

Pairing: McCoy x Gender Neutral Reader

Rating: Teen, mild references to sex

Word Count: 2.2k

Summary: His romantic night did not work out as McCoy so carefully planned.

Excerpt: The trio hung as right-side up bats, hooked to rafters via restraints binding their wrists, dangling three feet from the ceiling. Similar heavy ropes shackled their legs which suspended above the floor, low enough for bare toes to graze its surface, high enough to prevent easing the torment of arms and shoulders bearing all body weight.

McCoy pivoted his hips, swinging to his left. For two seconds his eyes met Kirk’s and he said, “I blame you for this.”

Continue reading on AO3 or FFN

Story Masterlist | McCoy x Reader Masterlist | Author Masterlist

Taglist: @bardic-tales @themaradaniels @meganlpie @cobe76 @sistasarah-sallysaidso @arrthurpendragon @coping-via-clint-eastwood

[fandomdancer]

This is so in character omg I love this! Come read All the Stuffs by this author, she is so much fun!! And she writes for A LOT of fandoms!!

Glances

Sensory Prompt: ‘Secret Glances’

Pairing: Spock x GN!Reader

Requested by: Anonymous

Warnings: None

Sometimes you thought it was your imagination. There was no reason for him to be starring at you, but you would feel it. The tingles on the back of your neck. You’d look up, but he was never looking at you. Sometimes it seemed at though you almost caught him. His head would be in movement when your eyes reached him, as though he looked away just in time to not get caught. But again. There was no reason for him to stare at you.

At first he didn’t understand what it was about you that seemed to mesmerize him. But he couldn’t help it. He always found himself searching for you. He would see the color of your hair in the corner of his eyes and he would immediatley look for you. Half the time it wasn’t you though. The disappointment that followed those moments confused him. When he would hear your laugh or your voice, he couldn’t help but look. He would study you, your voice, your eyes, your mouth, hair, skin, hands, everything. It didn’t make sense to him then. But it does now.

Keep reading

[fanfictionismyaddiction]

Hey, my requests are open

I decided I would also like to write for other fandoms outside of f1.

I’m thinking about:

Criminal minds

Aaron Hotchner

David Rossi

Emily prentiss

Game of thrones

Little finger

Tywin Lannister

Tyrion Lannister

Sansa stark

John snow

Star trek

Leonard McCoy

Spock

Christopher pike

Harry potter

Severus Snape

Sirius Black

Remus Lupin

Lord of the rings

King Thranduil

NCIS

Leroy Jethro Gibbs

Sherlock

Mycroft homes

The walking dead

Negan

Celebrities

Alan Rickman

Lee Pace

Pedro pascal

Zak Bagans

Let me know if you want other fandom or characters I’m open for everything.

Drop a request.

I would be happy to write it

[eddiemunson-reader-shame]

Eddie Munson x Fem!Reader: Space Oddity, Part 1

In my ongoing quest to write more self indulgent reader inserts, I present to you: Weird Reader.

Sorry guys, but in school I played with the girls who pretended to be Warrior Cats, and ate lunch with guys who unironically did the Naruto run. The only thing separating me from this reader in this story is the fact that I mask in public and unmask at home.

[Chapter Two]

***

“You want me to play D&D with you guys?”

You watched with suspicious eyes as Mike Wheeler and Dustin Henderson nodded frantically, stirring the sweet, syrupy dessert of fruit cocktail in your lunch tray compartment. Staring at you was like staring at a taxidermy raccoon: you were dead eyed, but still positioned as though you could jump out and give someone rabies.

If he had been asked at gunpoint, Mike would have admitted that you were a last resort choice.

“Yeah…” Mike said cautiously, trying not to stare directly into your eyes.

Dustin smiled, leaning forward.

“You like D&D, right?” He tried, hopeful.

Everyone they had asked in Hawkins High had so far said no to subbing in for Lucas Sinclair, and Mike had balked at the idea of even thinking of asking you when they got rejected for the fifth time. You were even worse than the freaks of Hawkins High. The collective student body had come together as one to declare that you were a weird, mean bitch.

“I like what I’ve heard of it…” you mumbled, “I never played it before…”

Dustin’s face lit up like a Christmas tree.

“Really?” He asked, his geometric pattern button up nearly dipping into his open can of chocolate pudding, “Never ever? So you’d need to be taught?”

Before you could venture an answer, Mike pulled him back.

“Could you-… Could you just excuse us please? Thank you.”

You nodded slowly while Mike dragged Dustin away to a corner of the bustling lunchroom. While they conversed in hushed whispers, you sat there alone, the students sharing your space giving you a wide berth at the head of the lunch table.

“Are you out of your fucking mind?!” Mike hissed at Dustin, “You’re going to ask The Bitch to play, and she’s never even played D&D before?!”

Mike knew the stories. Robin had once asked to borrow a pencil from your jubilee of pens you kept in the pocket of your shortalls. Reluctantly you agreed, and then you had a meltdown when she took the flat contractor’s pencil with the He-Man sticker on it. Steve had told any of The Party who would listen about his encounter: even Eleven could perfectly recite the story about the weird girl who had flat tired Steve in the hall every day at 9am when he walked by Mrs. Click’s class, ruining the backs of his brown suede moccasins so often that his mom stopped replacing them after a while. His description of the perp matched you exactly.

Even Mike on his first day of school had been subject to your oddities. A casual lunchtime stroll found him tripping over a trap, made of plastic milk crates and dead branches you’d constructed by the football field. The encounter ended with him being subjected to your twenty minute screaming lecture on why it was rude of him to wreck the “houses” you’d made for the skinks that darted around the concrete walkways.

Mike Wheeler hated you because of reputation, but Dustin knew better than to fall victim to heresy. He had seen the drawings of dragons, daleks, dinosaurs, wolves and mermaids on xerox paper you had left behind once in the lunchroom. When he found you to give them back (you didn’t say thank you), he’d been gifted with a drawing a day later in his locker: a very detailed Spock giving the Vulcan salute, “Live Long and Prosper” written underneath in bubble letters above your loopy cursive signature. He still kept it taped to his Geometry folder.

“Dude, yes! Chill out!” Dustin hissed back, looking at you fondly from a distance, “You remember what Eddie said? ‘Find the little lost sheepies that need us’. Look at her, man. Doesn’t that scream little lost sheep to you?”

They turned to look at you simultaneously. After looking both ways to check the coast was clear, you commandeered Dustin’s abandoned chocolate pudding. Spooning the syrupy peaches, pears, pineapple, and single half of maraschino cherry of your fruit cocktail inside, you mixed the chocolate and fruit together. Lathing up the leftover pudding with your tongue, the spoon was licked clean before you tossed it vaguely into an indignant girl’s creamed corn, but she was too afraid to yell at you while you were armed with chocolate.

With great relish you began eating your concoction with your fingers.

Mike grimaced while Dustin just laughed.

“She’s perfect.” Dustin gushed, “And you should see her drawings, they’re badass!”

“Just because she’s a gross weirdo who’s good at drawing doesn’t mean she knows jackshit about tabletop games!” Mike growled, nearly gagging when he saw you mop up the leftover pudding in the can with your bread roll, “You bring a beginner into Hellfire Club, Eddie’s gonna blow a goddamn gasket! He’s already on the warpath because of Lucas’ championship game tonight, can you imagine what he’ll do when we bring in The Bitch?!”

“Mike, relax. Eddie’s not going to know she’s a novice. Everyone still flips through the handbook, they won’t notice if she does it. We’ll give her a crash course, I’ll even let her borrow my Player’s Handbook so she can come in looking like she at least knows the basics. And if Eddie does get pissed we can just… ease him into the idea that a succulent babe wants to play with him.”

Dustin made the shape of a curved figure with his hands, while Mike looked ready to punch him in the groin.

“You think he’s going to fold for a fat girl?” Mike snarled.

“… Shut up Mike,” Dustin said, immediately protective of you, “He’s going to fold for a cute girl. Look at her! Soft arms, round face, thick thighs… Eddie’s gonna lose his goddamn mind, man! That’s like his ideal type.”

They continued to argue back and forth, finally coming to a grudging resolution when Dustin dragged Mike back by the shirt to your lunch table.

“If this goes to shit, I know where you live.” Mike hissed quietly.

“Shhhh!” Dustin slapped Mike’s arm before looking back at you with a dopey grin.

You were staring down both of them, eyes flicking from Dustin to Mike. The empty pudding cup can was sitting exactly where it had been once full before, but the pop top was gone, and you were pretending like you hadn’t just gone to town on an unholy concoction.

“I made a decision.” You said suddenly.

The two freshmen looked at one another, before leaning in closer. Mike looked skeptical, but Dustin’s grin was nearly splitting his face in half.

“I’ll play with you guys.” You said after a few seconds.

Dustin couldn’t help but fist pump into the air, nearly tipping over backwards on his chair while Mike just grimaced like he was about to puke. An imperfect smile with chocolate teeth flashed at the boys, and you were just about to speak when Mike stopped the party.

“Okay, listen… if you’re going to play, you’re going to have to put in the work, it’s not like playing Monopoly.” He said, staring you down, “This is serious shit.”

You closed your mouth, head tilting to the side.

“Oh… I thought it was like, making your own characters and pretending to be them and stuff.” You said.

“It is, but it’s a lot more nuanced than that. Our Advanced D&D campaigns are different. We play very combat heavy sessions, we use actual strategy in battle. It’s not a goddamn tea party.”

“And Eddie takes the rules very seriously…” Dustin chimed in, “So we’ll have to familiarize you with the basics.”

“Eddie!?”

Both boys jumped back as you banged your hands on the table, getting up close and nearly crawling on top over to them. The students sitting next to you collectively jumped, the metal legs of their chairs scraping and making a horrid screech against the linoleum flooring.

“You mean… you’re talking about Eddie The Freak, right?” You hissed under your breath.

“Eddie Munson.” Dustin corrected, frowning when you called him a freak, “He’s the dungeon master of our club… of Hellfire Club.”

Your eyes widened, and your chest began to rise and fall rapidly.

“You’re right though. That is the very same freak.” Mike cut in, lowering his pitch hoping that feeding into the negativity would scare you away, “He’s a dick to newcomers. You might get the boot if he finds out we brought you in without having any background knowledge of D&D.”

His words made you shrink back, looking at your lunch tray and the little mess of chocolate you’d unknowingly splattered on your clothes. Dustin could have killed Mike, while the latter just looked smug.

And then… you began to giggle.

“Okay…” you smiled.

“Okay?!” Mike and Dustin repeated.

Mike managed to speak up while Dustin was still picking his smiling jaw up off the floor.

“You’re sure you still want to play?” Mike asked, panicking as he pulled out all the stops to get you to quit, “Eddie is not a patient guy with new players, he’s going to rip you to pieces and sacrifice you to the devil!”

You nodded quickly, breathlessly hyperventilating.

“Yeah…! I… If Eddie Munson is running the game… I really wanna play.”

Dustin gave a high pitched giggle of his own and shook Mike’s shoulder, absolutely loving the way your face broke out into a goofy grin. You didn’t even flinch at Mike’s attempts to scare you.

“You got a thing for him or something?” Mike ventured cautiously.

“Yes.”

You answered so unabashedly, with no hesitation, that for a minute it actually endeared you to Mike. Who knew that The Bitch of Hawkins High was actually a human being with wants and needs?

“Wait… are you serious?” Mike asked.

“Uh huh…”

You giggled, biting your lower lip and covering your burning face.

“I think… I think he’s really hot…”

If they had been drinking Tab, they would have spit the liquid out all over you.

“You think Eddie’s hot?” Dustin wheezed.

“Yeah… um… I’ve had this like monster crush on Eddie since I was in fifth grade. He did like this talent show and played the guitar real good, and he’s all loud and funny and crazy and I think he’s got a real charming smile…”

The cadence in your already deep contralto was lilting into a mezzo soprano the more you talked about their sadistic dungeon master, and you were rocking side to side in your plastic chair while Dustin and Mike just watched you make a complete ass of yourself.

This probably would have turned into two hours of blabbing, had not Mike refocused you and Dustin and begun to actually lay out the basics of TSR’s Advanced Dungeons and Dragons. No time to lose, back to business. If you were going to play with Eddie you had a lot of catching up to do. They had a spare set of dice, and Mike helped you roll for stats as Dustin began to write out a crude character sheet for you based on your imaginative ideas.

“We can probably make you a character very quickly.” Mike said, flipping through his own Mead Composition notebook as he checked past characters that had died valiantly in battle, “I have one you can use. Barbarians are stupid easy for first timers since you’re just hitting shit with a sword-...”

“I want a character based on my story I’m writing!” You exclaimed, and then you subjected Mike to your brief (lie) synopsis of one of many witchy characters who was cursed by a dark goddess.

It took a lot of adjusting and words that held no meaning to you, like “Domain of Trickery” and “Cleric of Shar”. The two freshmen helped you settle on a character that would be deemed useful for Hellfire’s campaign, and made sure to force feed you every rule and spell that Gygax and Arneson had conceived for your chosen class. True to his word, Dustin let you borrow the Player’s Handbook he carried with him at all times when the bell to conclude lunch rang out. You took it with promises that you’d give it back when you met them outside of the drama room later after school, already burying your nose in the pages when you walked off to your class.

The boys saw a different side of you that possibly no one else in the school ever had: a familiar side, a human side. A side that was brutally honest and sometimes a little mean, but just as vulnerable and relatable as anyone else. A consensus had been reached during their shared English class: you were definitely weird, but actually pretty smart and imaginative. Possibilities of keeping you on as a permanent member were being discussed when Dustin and Mike found you hiding behind the lockers just outside the drama room around three pm.

“What are you doing?” Mike asked.

You shook your head, clutching your fat trapper keeper to your chest and handing Dustin back his Player’s Handbook.

“Eddie’s in there…” you muttered, chewing on the spine of your trapper keeper covered in duct tape

“Yeah, he usually gets there with Jeff, Gareth and Frank really early, to set up the map and the dice towers.” Mike nodded.

From the rectangular slat of a window, one could see Gareth and Frank meticulously setting up Jenga pieces and miniatures on top of a slab of butcher paper marked in sharpie, janky cindrilical tubes painted to look like castle towers were set up at each place at the table (the dice towers, fashioned from Pringles cans, cardboard, glue and paint). Eddie and Jeff were deep in conversation, plugging in lamps and electric candelabras left over from the drama club’s last production of ‘Pride and Prejudice’. Inside the mood was almost holy, reverent (or like Eddie liked to call it: a softcore porn on Valentine’s day mood), and the boys couldn’t help the eagerness as they went to the door.

You, however, stayed firmly planted behind the lockers.

“What are you doing?!” Mike hissed, “Come on! We’re gonna be late because of you!”

“I don’t wanna go in…!” You snapped back, suddenly shy.

Mike looked at Dustin, ready to destroy him, while Dustin tried to talk you down.

“Hey, hey! Come on, it’s okay. Don’t worry! You have a good character, and if you need help you can just sit with me and Mike-…”

“But what if he doesn’t like me?” You protested.

“I swear to you on my mother that Eddie is going to love you.” Dustin said, trying to calm you down, “You’re great. You actually came with a character to play, and he’s going to be so happy that a girl is showing interest in his hobbies.”

You were about to turn tail and leave when you felt an iron grip around the meat of your bicep, pulling you forward with an unnatural strength born entirely of Nerd Rage.

“Oh hell no!” Mike said, pulling you kicking and protesting towards the door, “You’re not doing this to me right now god dammit! You’re going to get your ass in there, and you’re going to play! I didn’t sit through lunch listening to your weird edgy character backstory just so you could pussy out at the last minute! Now get your ass. In. NOW!”

With a harsh shove, you flew into the drama room – tripping on your own two feet trying to catch yourself – and spilling the contents of your trapper keeper all over the ground. Strong hands caught you before you face planted into the floor, holding you steady.

“Easy, easy!” Called out a familiar voice, “Goddamn... What the hell was that for, Mike?! You could’ve broken her nos-…”

Eddie Munson’s voice trailed off, and the boys watched as their fearless leader, their metalhead bard, began to stare open mouthed slack jawed at you.

“You told us to find a lost sheep.” Mike snarled, “So here she is.”

[rainpelt25]

BEGGING star trek fic writers to do more non romantic reader inserts.....pls....I just wanna play a little tune with spock or get bandaged up by mcoy,,, can't you give that to a sadddd little boy down on his luck............also willing to exchange art for a fic request I am DESPERATE

[lamelycool]

Annoy Me

Spock x Reader

A/n: this is my first fanfic so go easy on me. Just thought there needed to be more Spock fics out there! Also this isn't a specific version of Spock I just liked this gif. Also the reader is a wee bit bratty and of a southern persuasion just a warning.

Summary: You can't help but to love hitting on Spock. Much to his annoyance. Anyday now he'll airlock you. And if not him then space hr would surely. But he comes to realize he looks forward to your teasing and even encourages it. The only thing is that it takes you dying for him to realize :(

Warnings: fem reader, angst, fluff, flirting, character death?, blood, injury, drowning, throwing up.

"Whats up hot stuff, what do ya need?" You say laying your pad down with an easy going grin. After all you can't help but to smile, it is a pleasant surprise that is Spock standing in your doorway.

Spock quirks a brow up, "I am neither an item nor is my temperature high." Crossing the threashold he stops about five feet in front of you. But even that is too close and brings butterflies to your belly, jitters to your hands, and makes your cheeks feel flush.

"Of course of course. Anyways, what's up?" You respond quickly to distract from your flustered feelings.

"I am here to remind you of the away mission scheduled today." He says stoicly, hands pressed firmly behind his back.

"Away mission? Today? I don't remember being told about this..."

"You were messaged about this an hour and fifteen minutes ago." Spock furrows his brow slightly. Had you really been so careless as to not see the message? Or had you read it and forgotten. Spock isn't sure which is more irresponsible. He finds it odd for you to do so. You are normally very hardworking and punctual.

"Oh... I must have over looked it. Not that I'm complaining. I got an excuse to see you." Your eyes scan him from head to toe suggestive yet filled with jest. "After all your company is always more than welcome. But uh could you summarize the mission for me? Since you're already here and all?"

"It is a standard mission. Simply a small away team to the surface of the planet to gather samples and scout the area."

"Yes I will be on the away team. There will also be two other science officers, three security officers, Dr. McCoy, and yourself. Does that satisfy all of your inquiries?" Spock states with the slightest hint of exasperation.

"Nothings simple or standard when it comes to away missions on the Enterprise..." You mutter under your breath.

"Oh also, who all is on the away team? And more importantly will I have the pleasure of you accompanying?" Oddly enough you finding yourself hoping he will be. When had your teases and jokes turned into genuine feelings? You can't help but to wonder...

"Yes it does, thank you very much! You're a lifesaver." You beam at Spock.

"I fail to see how my summarizing of an away mission is saving lives." He dead pans.

He finds himself thinking, ' Why am I dragging this conversation out further? She obviously did not mean her statement in a literal sense. I'm only encouraging her teasing. I must meditate on this later.'

"I look forward to seeing you then." You say genuinely. The only statement you've said so far that wasn't paired with a joke, jest, or tease.

Spock responds only with a curtious yet stiff nod. And with arms tucked behind his back he leaves with a whoosh of the door behind him.

You breathe easy now that he's gone. It's not that he intimidates you. Well... At least not in a bad way- You just don't know how to behave around him. He makes you forget how to act. Around him you feel like a young dumb girl again.

'Snap out of it, we got a job to do!' You think with a sigh and check your messages. You must prepare for the impromptu away mission.

~•°~•°~•°~•°~•°~•°~•°~•°~•°~•°~•°~•°~•°~•°~•

"How much longer are we going to be scanning this area?" You ask Spock. You guys had been walking around and scanning for hours now. And you were quickly losing patience. How many unique plants could possibly be on this ice chunk of a planet?

"As I said two times previously only a moment longer." Spock sighs out continuing to scan the evergreen plant in front of him. He had long given up on acting like your whining was anything but annoying.

"Pphff it's too cold! Please hurry up before I lose my limbs to frostbite." You plead to him while shivering.

"I assure you that you still have at least 2.34 hours until serious frostbite would be a concern. As well as the fact complaining will not change that you are cold." Spock barely spares you a glance as he continues moving from plant to plant and scanning some rocks.

"Mr. Spockk I know you are a hotty, but how are you not even the least bit cold right now? The temperature on this planet is ridiculous!" You whine arms crossed like a petulant child.

"I never said I was not cold. I simply have control of my body and can handle it. It is an issue of the mind over matter." Spock calmy states and stands brushing the snow off his pants.

"Now come on, let us begin to our rendezvous point." Spock orders you already walking ahead.

"Hey wait up! Not everybody has pretty long legs like you do you know!" You scurry to catch up to him and luckily he is kind enough to slow his gait for you.

"My legs are not long they are proportional to my body." He says ears flush a twinge of green.

After that comment a silence falls between you two. Only the sound of crunching snow and howling wind can be heard. Said wind is whats responsible for the low visability. You have to be careful to watch your step. Because it's nearly impossible to see much further than a couple feet ahead of you.

'This is going to be a long trek back,' you think with a sigh.

~•°~•°~•°~•°~•°~•°~•°~•°~•~°~•°~•°~•°~•°~•°~

You finally reach the point where snow meets ice and sigh out a puff of air. Definitely not looking forward to crossing the frozen sea again. Just looking at it gives you the creeps. Despite the fact the ice is thick you can still see the murky black nothingness of the waters below. There's no telling what lurks beneath either.

"Uh Mr. Spock is there any life on this planet we should be worried about?" You anxiously inquire.

Spock pauses for a moment then responds carefully, "There is a possibility of dangerous alien life yes. I will not tell you otherwise. Information on this planet is rather limited at this moment."

"Oh... Okay. " You can't help but feel a wave of dread flow over you as you continue to look at the murky sea below you. You can't wait for this trek to end.

Spock glances over his shoulder at you. You look... uncomfortable. For some reason this bothers him. "We are almost to extraction. Also allow me to remind you we are equipped with phasers. "

"Oh trust me I have not forgotten about my phaser..." You mutter tracing the phaser on your hip attempting to soothe your increasing anxiety. Spock only nods in response not pushing the matter.

~•°~•°~•°~•°~•°~•°~•°~•°~•~°~•°~•°~•°~•°~•°~

Spock in a daze scrambles for his phaser. Fumbling with the settings he changes it from stun to kill. Not sparing a moment he locks on to the beast in a burning rage and continuously pulls the trigger. Giving it no chance of getting up. The beams hit the beast in rapid succession and it collapses in a heap dead.

You and Spock continue the long walk in silence quickly nearing your extraction point. Despite this your anxiety hasn't eased. In fact your heart is now racing. Your eyes pry away from the icy ground to glance around trying to clam down. But what you see scares you shitless.

"Spock! Look out!" A massive mangy beast akin to apolar bear with a set of knarly horns charges towards Spock. There's no time to grasp for your phaser. So you quickly push Spock out of the way. The beast collides with you instead ramming into you with the might of a freight train. It knocks the breath out of you. Narrowly misses lodging deep into your abdomen only slicing your sides. Your body is thrown across the ice and the beast immediately charges at you to continue the assault.

Urgently he speaks, "Bones! There has been an accident. My partner has been hurt and is under the ice we will need immediate medical attention." Spock commands urgently.

All Spock can think about is you.

"Ensign? Ensign?!" Spock looks around frantically. A chill runs down his spine once he sees a hole in the ice. He rushes to the hole and hits his com badge.

"What did you say!? Shes hurt? What do you mean under the ice? Whats going on Spock, what happened?! You green blooded hobgoblin expl-" Spock cuts off his com. He rips off his jacket and dives in the water hoping to find you before it is too late.

He swims down quickly and begins feeling around blindly for you. He searches frantically until his lungs begin to burn begging for air. Only then is when he finally latches on to an arm. Without a second to spare he drags you to the surface with him and heaves you guys back onto the ice.

"Ensign? Can you hear me? Stay with me!" Spock begs brushing your hair out from in front of your face. He lays his head against your chest to hear for a heartbeat. He listens closely for any sign of life. Spock begins to feel sick to his stomach when cannot find any and begins to panic.

"I implore you to please breathe. Please..." He begins cpr while his thoughts race. He cannot simply let you die like this. He cannot.

"Please do not do this. I do not give you permission to die. You should have never been so reckless as to do this! You are human and fragile. It was stupid! I could have taken the damage much easier-" he cuts himself off by giving you mouth to mouth resuscitation.

Not long after he started to try and breathe life into you do you jolt up and twist to the side to spew out dark water. The slightly acid water burns and hurts about as much as it did when you first gulped it in.

Spock let's out a chocked gasp of relief and worry. He moves closer and rubs your back through all of your heaving while speaking gently to you. You can only make out bit and pieces of what he says. Mummurs of reassurance and comfort. And whether it's more for you or him is debatable.

When you are done gagging up water you cough out to him, "if you wwantedd tto kiss mme you coulve jus saidd so." Shivering violently you let out a breathless laugh you say, "II'd ddrown more offten if I knew II'd gget a kiss ffrom yyou. Mmakes it worthh iit."

Spock allows a small laugh of suprise to slip from his lips as he wraps you in his discarded jacket. He begins to massage feeling back into your frozen hands. "No, please refrain from doing such a reckless thing. I will kiss you as much as you wish without such an action." He begins to apply pressure to your wound with his unoccupied hand. You wouldn't die today and he'd still have to listen to your teasing and deal with your flirting. But he's grateful and he would have it no other way.

A/n: hope you enjoyed the fic! If you have any suggestions or criticism feel free to leave a comment. I'm very much a noob to fanfic writing especially on tumblr. Thanks for reading!

[etherealspacejelly]

Get Some Rest

Rating: General Audiences

Archive Warning: No Archive Warnings Apply

Category: Multi

Fandom: Star Trek: The Original Series

Relationships:

Spock (Star Trek)/Reader, James T. Kirk/Spock/Reader, James T. Kirk & Reader, Spock (Star Trek) & Reader, James T. Kirk & Spock, James T. Kirk/Reader, Spock (Star Trek)/You, James T. Kirk/You

Characters:

James T. Kirk, Spock (Star Trek), Reader, You

Additional Tags:

Reader-Insert, Gender-Neutral Pronouns, Fluff, Sleepy Cuddles, Caring Spock (Star Trek), Sleep Deprivation

Summary:

When you get back from an unexpectedly long and taxing away mission, uninjured but completely exhausted, Jim and Spock put you to bed.

There is no use of Y/N. Gender-neutral pronouns are used, and there is no physical description of you. There are some romantic undertones, but it can easily be read as platonic, too. This is very fluffy and self-indulgent lol.

[spacejellycreates]

Huddling for Warmth, Logically Of Course

When the transporter malfunctions, you and Spock get stranded in a cold, snowy landscape for a few hours. And as we all know, there's only one logical solution to keep you both warm...

Featuring: letting someone warm their hands on you as an expression of love, Spock being Very Logical and Having No Feelings Whatsoever (/s), and of course, touch telepathy!

Can be read as either platonic or romantic! Gender-neutral reader, no use of y/n

Tag list (Let me know if you would like to be added or removed!):

@fraudfrogz @wiggles-mcgee @nothoughtsgayboy @dobry-slimak @biblically-accurate-chaos

@emilytheghostwitch @shortergaything @bhawk-goose @thegeniusidiotnstickmerchant3728

[anonymousewrites]

Logos and Pathos (AOS Edition) Chapter Fourteen

AOS! Spock x Empath! Reader

Chapter Fourteen: True Mision

Summary: (Y/N), Spock, and Kirk speak to Harrison and learn some suspicious truths.

            Everyone stared as Harrison was escorted through the halls of the Enterprise towards the brig. He had six security guards standing around him, and yet his face betrayed no worry or concern, just a calm, focused gaze forward.

(Y/N) felt no fear in his aura, nothing to betray that this wasn’t an ideal situation for him. It sent concerned shivers down their spine since this could only mean he was getting something out of this, out of being taken here.

            “Bones, meet me in the brig,” said Kirk to his communicator.

            “Be right there,” said Bones.

            “Uhura,” said Kirk to the bridge. “Contact Starfleet, let them know we have Harrison in custody and that we’ll be on our way once the warp core is repaired.”

            “Yes, sir,” said Uhura.

            “Spock, (L/N), I’ll meet you in the brig,” said Kirk.

            “Yes, sir,” said (Y/N).

            Spock caught their arm before they walked away, and (Y/N) looked at him curiously.

            “T’hy’la, you worried me,” said Spock quietly. “I wish you had not put yourself in harm’s way.”

            “It’s my duty, Spock. Just like you know it’s yours,” said (Y/N), reminding him of what he’d nearly done what felt like forever ago.

            “Yes, but I don’t…I want you to be safe, T’hy’la,” said Spock. “I am glad you are safe.” He touched his fingers to theirs.

            (Y/N) smiled. “I’m still here, Spock. Don’t worry.” They leaned up and kissed him softly. “I’m here.”

            Spock allowed himself a small smile. “I love you,” he said softly.

            “I love you, too,” promised (Y/N).

l

            “Why the hell did he surrender?” said Bones as soon as he caught up to Kirk, (Y/N), and Spock, dressed in uniform and walking to the brig.

            “I don’t know,” said Kirk. “But he just took out a squad of Klingons single-handedly. I want to know how.”

            “Sounds like we have a superman on board,” said Bones.

            “You tell me,” said Kirk. “(L/N), have you gotten any emotion readings from him?”

            (Y/N) considered. “He had a very calm emotional aura while he fought and when he went to the brig. The only time he’s showed anything else is anger when he attacked the meeting and a combination of negative emotions and nervousness about the torpedoes.”

            “Fascinating,” said Spock.

            “We’ll keep that in mind,” said Kirk. “Let me know if anything changes.” They entered the brig and approached the only occupied cell with Harrison pacing inside.

            Bones placed the force-field opened in the middle, and it expanded to create an arm-sized hole. “Put your arm through the hole. I’m gonna take a blood sample.”

            Harrison approached, still no emotion but calm self-assurance in his face of aura. He rolled up his sleeve and put his arm through the hole. Bones took it, inserted the needle, and let it take some of his blood. Harrison didn’t even flinch and just looked at Kirk.

            “Why aren’t we moving, Captain?” said Harrison. He raised a brow. “An unexpected malfunction, perhaps in your warp core, conveniently stranding you on the edge of Klingon space?”

            Bones looked at Harrison in confusion as he got it exactly right. Spock tilted his head, and (Y/N) furrowed their brow.

            “How the hell do you know that?” said Bones.

            “Bones,” said (Y/N), warning him to not let him know anything. Harrison was clearly more intelligent than the average person. Not only was his strength and stamina more impressive, his mind was, too. He was a formidable man.

            Harrison’s eyes flitted to them, and he tilted his head as he considered them. “I think you’d find my insight valuable.”

            (Y/N) looked back at him evenly, and Spock narrowed his eyes slightly, not liking Harrison’s attention on them.

            “We good?” said Kirk, speaking before Harrison could say anything else.

            “Yeah,” said Bones, drawing his hand back and closing the hole.

            “Let me know what you find,” said Kirk.

            “Ignore me, and you will get everyone on this ship killed,” said Harrison as they walked away.

            Kirk slowed to a stop.

            “Captain, I believe he will only attempt to manipulate you,” said Spock. “I would not recommend engaging this prisoner further.”

            “(L/N)…is he trying to trick us?” asked Kirk.

            “His emotions haven’t changed, but I can’t see if he’s lying or not. And even if he isn’t, he could still be using us,” said (Y/N).

            Kirk pursed his lips and turned back to Harrison. “Let me explain what’s happening here,” he said harshly. “You are a criminal. I watched you murder innocent people. I was authorized to end you! And the only reason why you are still alive is because I am allowing it. So shut your mouth.”

            Harrison looked back at Kirk, and condescension swirled around him. “Oh, Captain, are you going to punch me again over and over till your arm weakens? Why did you allow me to live?”

            “We all make mistakes,” said Kirk coldly.

            “No,” said Harrison. “I surrendered to you because, despite your attempt to convince me otherwise, you seem to have a conscience, Mr. Kirk.” His eyes flicked to (Y/N). “As does your crew. If you did not, it would be impossible for me to convince you of the truth. Two-three. One-seven. Four-six. One-one. Coordinates not far from Earth. If you want to know why I did what I did, go and take a look.”

            “Give me one reason why I should listen to you,” said Kirk.

            “I can give you seventy-two,” said Harrison. “And they’re on board your ship, Captain. They have been all along. I suggest you open one up.” He looked at (Y/N). “And let your Celian take a look. They’ll understand immediately.”

            (Y/N) furrowed their brow.

l

            “Are you out of your corn-fed mind?” snapped Bones on the Bridge once he heard Kirk’s plan to send Scotty to investigate what Harrison had said and open a torpedo. “You’re not actually going to listen to this guy?! He killed Pike, he almost killed you, and now you think it’s a good idea to pop open a torpedo because he dared you to.”

            “Why did he save our lives, Bones?” said Kirk.

            “The Doctor has a point, Captain,” said Spock.

            “Don’t agree with me, Spock. It makes me very uncomfortable,” said Bones.

            “Perhaps you too should learn to govern your emotions, Doctor,” said Spock. “In this situation, logic dictates—”

            “Logic? Oh my god, there’s a maniac trying to make us blow up our own damn ship and—”

            “That’s not it,” said (Y/N), crossing their arms and shaking their head. Everyone looked at them. “I don’t know why he surrendered, but that’s not it. And I have to say, I think we should open a torpedo. We should’ve done that from the beginning. Scotty was right, we don’t know what’s in it, and it’s been kept secret from us. Harrison was worried about them and wanted to know the number for some reason. There’s something going on here, and we seem to be the only ones in the dark. We can’t keep going without knowing all the facts.”

            “I agree with (L/N),” said Kirk, nodding.

            Bones threw up his hands. “Okay, but without Scotty on board, who exactly is qualified to just pop open a four-ton stick of dynamite?”

            “The Admiral’s daughter appeared to have an interest in the torpedoes, and she’s a weapons specialist,” said Spock. “Perhaps she could be of use.”

            (Y/N) nodded. “Good point.”

            Kirk and Bones looked at them in confusion.

            “What Admiral’s daughter?” asked Kirk.

            “Carol Marcus. Your new science officer concealed her identity to board the ship,” said Spock.

            “When were you going to tell me that?” asked Kirk, bewildered.

            “When it became relevant. And it just did,” said Spock.

            “In our defense, we found out just as we were forced out of warp, so we had other problems to deal with,” said (Y/N). “But she seemed to be scanning the torpedoes. If I had to guess, she’s as curious as we are about what’s in them. And that means there’s even more suspicion surrounding them. We really need to open one.”

            “Let’s go get her, then,” said Kirk, moving to the elevator.

l

            Barely a half-hour later, poor Bones (who had surgical expertise) and Carol had gone down to a small planetoid to open the torpedo (Spock had been vehemently against (Y/N) going down despite what Harrison had said. He drew the line of listening to him there). Carol, too, had no idea what was in the torpedo, and since her father had been so secretive, she had forged the papers to get to the Enterprise and find out what was going on.

            “Lieutenant Uhura, did you let Starfleet know we have Harrison in custody?” asked Kirk.

            “Yes, sir, no response yet,” said Uhura.

            “Engineering to Bridge,” said Chekov. “Hello. Captain, can you hear me?”

            “Mr. Chekov, give me some good news,” said Kirk.

            “We found the leak, sir, but damage was substantial. We’re working on it,” said Chekov.

            “Any idea what caused it?” asked Kirk.

            “Uh, no, sir. But I accept full responsibility,” said Chekov.

            “Something tells me it wasn’t your fault. Stay on it,” said Kirk.

            “You think something else is going on,” said (Y/N).

            “You and Spock were right,” said Kirk. “We know too little about this situation, and now…there’s too much going on to ignore it.”

            “Shuttle is standing by,” said Sulu.

            “Bones, thanks for helping out,” said Kirk to the shuttle. “Dr. Marcus asked for the steadiest hands on the ship.”

            “When I get you for your next physical, you’re gonna pay for this,” muttered Bones as he walked out of the shuttle.

            “To understand how powerful these weapons are, we need to open the warheads,” said Carol matter-of-factly. “To do that, we need to access the fuel compartment. Unfortunately for us, the warheads on these weapons are live.”

            “I once performed an emergency C-section on a pregnant Gorn. Octuplets,” said Bones. “And let me tell you, those little bastards bite. I think I can work some magic on your missile.”

            “Dr. McCoy, there’s a bundle of fiberoptic cables against the inner casing,” said Carol. “You’ll need to cut the twenty-third wire down. Whatever you do, do not touch anything else. Do you understand?”

            “Right. The thought never crossed my mind,” said Bones. He inserted the wire cutters.

            “Dr. McCoy, wait for my word,” said Carol. “I’m rerouting the detonation process.”

            Everyone on the bridge tensed and waited to see what would happen.

            “Are you ready?” asked Carol.

            “And raring,” said Bones.

            “Good luck,” said Carol, pressing a button.

            Bones let out a shocked yell as something constricted around his arm.

            “Sir, the torpedo just armed itself,” said Sulu in alarm.

            “Bones!” (Y/N) sucked on a breath.

            “The warhead’s gonna detonate in thirty seconds, sir!” said Sulu.

            “What the hell happened?! I can’t get my arm out!” said Bones.

            “The Transporter cannot differentiate between Dr. McCoy and the torpedo,” reported Spock, his voice clipped and hurried as he looked at the readings in frustration. He stood. “We cannot beam back on without the other.”

            “Dr. Marcus, can you disarm it?” said Kirk, trying to keep calm through his fear.

            “I’m trying, I’m trying,” said Carol.

            “Jim, get her the hell out of here!” said Bones.

            “No, if you beam me back, he dies!” said Carol. “Just let me do it!”

            “Ten, nine, eight!” said Bones in alarm.

            “Standing by to transport Dr. Marcus on your command, sir,” said Sulu.

            “Four, three!” cursed Bones.

            “Shit!” Carol pulled an entire device out of the machine instead of trying to clip the right wire.

            The panel opened, and Bones and Carol fell back. The torpedo powered down, and they both let out a sigh of relief, the same sound which went up on the Bridge.

            “Deactivation successful, Captain,” reported Spock.

            “Bones, you alright?” asked Kirk.

            The top of the torpedo slid off, and Bones and Carol stood to look in.

            “Bones!” repeated Kirk.

            “Jim?” said Bones in shock as he looked into the torpedo. “You’re going to want to see this.”

            Kirk looked at Spock and (Y/N). What had they found?

l

            “What have we got?” asked Kirk instantly as they entered the Medbay to find Carol and Bones looking over the torpedo.

            “The fuel container’s been removed from this torpedo and retrofitted to hide a cryotube,” said Carol matter-of-factly.

            (Y/N)’s eyes widened, and they walked to the head of the torpedo. Sure enough, a person lay in stasis within it, soft, barely present emotions pulsing with them in their sleep. That was why Harrison wanted them to see it—(Y/N) could feel the emotions of the person.

            “Is he alive?” asked Kirk.

            “He’s alive,” confirmed Bones. “But if we try to revive him without the proper sequencing, medical attention, and psychological protection, it could kill him. This technology’s beyond me.”

            “How advanced, Doctor?” asked Spock.

            Carol shook her head. “It’s not advanced. That cryotube is ancient.”

            “We haven’t needed to freeze anybody since we developed warp capability,” said Bones. “Which explains the most interesting thing about our friend here. He’s three hundred years old.”

            “Harrison must know them,” said (Y/N).

            Spock and Kirk looked at them.

            “He needed to know seventy torpedoes were present. There must be seventy-two people,” said (Y/N). “And he wanted them to be kept alive, not fired at him…But the question is still why these people are here to begin with…”

            “We need to talk to him,” said Kirk, grimacing.

            Spock narrowed his eyes. “Unfortunately, we must.”

l

            Harrison looked up as they walked into the brig.

            “Why is there a man in that torpedo?” questioned Kirk, getting straight tot eh point.

            “There are people in all those torpedoes, Captain,” said Harrison. When Kirk’s glance went to (Y/N), who had figured out the same thing, Harrison’s eyes went with him. “Though it appears your Lieutenant figured that out. Good. You need to keep an observant mind.”

            “Why are they there?” repeated Kirk, disliking Harrison’s focus on (Y/N). There was no reason for it (Spock liked it even less).

            “Because I put them there,” said Harrison.

            “Who the hell are you?” questioned Kirk.

            “A remnant of a time long past,” said Harrison evenly. “Genetically engineered to be superior so as to lead others to peace in a world at war.” Frustration threaded his aura. “But we were condemned as criminals, forced into exile. For centuries, we slept, hoping when we awoke, things would be different. But as a result of the destruction of Vulcan—” Spock tensed “—your Starfleet began to aggressively search distant quadrants of space. My ship was found adrift. I alone was revived.”

            Which would indicate he was the leader of his group. The first to revive is always programmed to be the captain, thought (Y/N). That meant Harrison was even more dangerous than they supposed. He was genetically stronger and smarter than they were, and he accustomed to using and commanding others.

            “We looked up ‘John Harrison,’ ” said (Y/N). “He didn’t exist until a year ago. I suppose that was a name given to you.”

            Harrison stood, and he smirked for just a moment. “Precisely. John Harrison was a fiction created the moment I was awoken by your Admiral Marcus to advance his cause.” (Y/N)’s eyes didn’t betray any reaction to Marcus being the one to find him. “Good. You don’t trust him. That will serve you well. It seems you’re the only observant or intelligent one on this ship.”

            “Who are you really?” said (Y/N), crossing their arms and refusing to acknowledge the “compliment.” They didn’t like Harrison’s gaze or the emotions that accompanied it.

            “My name is ‘Khan.’ ” The name hung in the air and felt dangerous, far more suited to the man before them than “Harrison.”

            “Why would a Starfleet Admiral ask a three-hundred-year-old froze man for help?” questioned Kirk.

            “Because I am better,” said Khan matter-of-factly.

            “At what?” said Kirk.

            “Everything,” said Khan. His gaze darkened, and when he next spoke, anger, deep and dark, accompanied his words. “Alexander Marcus needed to respond to an uncivilized threat in a civilized time, and for that, he needed a warrior’s mind. My mind. To design weapons and warships.”

            “You are suggesting the Admiral violated every regulation he vowed to uphold simply because he wanted to exploit your intellect,” said Spock.

            “He wanted to exploit my savagery,” said Khan coldly. “Intellect alone is useless in a fight, Mr. Spock.” He smirked cruelly. “You…You can’t even break a rule. How would you be expected to break bone?”

            Spock looked back at Khan evenly, and (Y/N) shifted towards him.

            “Marcus used me to design weapons,” continued Khan. “To help him realize his vision of a militarized Starfleet.”

            “The war he expected to come soon,” said (Y/N), remembering Marcus’s words.

            Khan nodded and looked at them. “You understand now, of course, that he sent you to use those weapons, to fire torpedoes on an unsuspecting planet. And you understand the rest.” He tilted his head, daring (Y/N) to continue.

            (Y/N) crossed their arms as if to guard against his gaze and emotions. “He crippled our ship in enemy space. Eventually, Klingons would find us. We wouldn’t escape.”

            Kirk’s eyes widened, and Spock tensed.

            “Marcus gets the war he wants,” said (Y/N).

            They were sick to their stomach, but after all the strange feelings they’d had around Marcus, it made sense that this was the secret he was holding. And all the facts lined up. Yes, Khan was likely trying to use them or going to do something, but there was no sign and no reason to lie right now, not when his people were in reach.

            “I can’t…I can’t believe that,” said Kirk, shaking his head. “I watched you fire into a room full of unarmed Starfleet officers. You killed them in cold blood.”

            Yes, but being a cruel, terrible man didn’t change that Khan could tell the truth.

            “Marcus took my crew from me,” said Khan.

            “You are a murderer!” shouted Kirk.

            “He used my friends to control me,” spat Khan. “I tried to smuggle them to safety by concealing them in the very weapons I had designed, but I was discovered. I had no choice but to escape alone. And when I did, I had every reason to suspect that Marcus had killed every single one of the people I hold most dear—” grief wound through him, as intense as his anger “—So I responded in kind. My crew is my family, Kirk. Is there anything you would not do for your family?”

            The words hung in the silence.

            “Proximity alert, Captain!” Sulu’s voice over the comms cut through the quiet. “There’s a ship at warp heading right for us!”

            “Klingons?” asked Kirk.

            “At warp?” Khan scoffed. “No, Kirk. We both know who it is.”

            “I don’t think so,” replied Sulu. “It’s not coming from Kronos.”

            Kirk turned and broke into a run towards the bridge. “Lieutenant, move Khan to Medbay,” he said the guard. He needed Khan to be someone another ship wouldn’t look for a prisoner. “Post six security guards on him.”

            (Y/N) and Spock followed Kirk, and Spock murmured to (Y/N).

            “Do you believe him?”

            “I believe Khan,” said (Y/N). “But I don’t trust him.”

            “No. Neither do I,” said Spock.

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