#spirk drabble

[spirkme915]

Pick a Song #1 - Take My Breath Away by Berlin

for @between-stars-and-enterprise a spirk drabble inspired by "take my breath way" by berlin.

because my brain is a maze of incomprehensible turns and multiple exits, the first thing i thought of when i saw the song title was "top gun" and all i could remember about that movie was that the gorgeous woman may have been a teacher to the hotshot pilot (idek if this is true??) and i thought of spock teaching jim something, then i looked up the lyrics to make sure i remembered them well enough, and got stuck on the line "if only for today, i am unafraid" then this drabble (or, really, longer than a drabble, oops) happened!

it's all fluff. nothing but fluff.

i hope you enjoy 💙

Jim sets down an apple on the corner of the lectern then takes his seat at the table in the front row.

While he remains the captain in this conference room turned classroom, he won’t be in charge today - that illustrious honor belongs to his highly competent XO.

Spock lifts his gaze from his padd and, upon spotting the red fruit, inclines one svelte eyebrow in question.

“It’s an old Earth custom to give a teacher an apple,” Jim explains.

“Solely this specific type of fruit or any other?”

“Just an apple.”

“What was the origin of this type of gift?”

Jim hesitates, accesses the recesses of his memory and comes back blank. “Honestly? I don’t know.”

“Then I must conclude it is an illogical custom.”

“And yet, delicious. That one’s real not replicated - from a bag I picked up at the last starbase. Don’t waste it.”

The corner of Spock’s lips twitch. “Is that an order, Captain?”

Jim tsks. “You’re the one in charge, Mr. Spock.”

“Very well.”

Spock begins the lecture, immediately commanding the attention of the fifty-ish crew who have gathered to hear the most recent updates to Starfleet landing party procedures. Jim tries to pay attention, he really does, but he’s well-aware that he’s going to ignore most (all) of the official procedures the second circumstances deem it, and his time here today is much better utilized cataloging every inch of his first officer.

Appropriate? No, not at all. But a better use of his time? Without a doubt.

While he can’t quite force himself to listen to the substance of the lecture, the dulcet baritone of Spock’s voice rolls over him pleasantly. He appreciates the grace with which Spock moves between the lectern and the viewscreen - long legs, narrow hips, the fit of science blues over a well-formed chest and arms. Spock points to a block of dense, dreadfully boring regulation text on the viewscreen and Jim loses himself in the twist of Spock’s wrist, imagines those elegant fingers against his skin.

Jim clears his throat, stations his elbows on the table and decides to pay attention. It’s time to focus on something else.

Spock is a good teacher, engaging and patient, and Jim’s heart squeezes with adoration as the supposedly bland Vulcan keeps over fifty people hanging on his every word. The material is dry, yet Spock interjects stories from previous missions and invites others to participate. The first wry joke Spock cracks, Jim is the only one who dares to laugh. Ten minutes later, Spock has the entire room snickering. It’s all rather…endearing.

Because of course it would be.

Most people see Spock’s ears and eyebrows and make all kinds of assumptions. But the reality of Spock is much more Human than Spock would ever admit, much more saucy than Bones knows how to deal with, and so rebellious that Spock can make the James T. Kirk look tamed.

Jim may just be a little bit in love with him.

Or, well, a lot.

Spock catches his eyes and Jim gazes back with a smile meant just for his XO. He has to be completely obvious in the moment, but he can’t find the will to care. It’s not as if it’s the first time and it most definitely won’t be the last.

Every look he gives Spock is an invitation extended that he shouldn’t want Spock to accept. It’s safe because he knows that Spock never will.

But that’s okay. Because if this is all they ever are - friends, confidants, chess partners, brothers in arms - then Jim’s life is more complete than he thought it could be. The life of a starship captain can be painfully solitary and Spock’s ever-present presence at his side ensures it’s not.

“Captain?”

“Yes, Mr. Spock?”

“The lecture has concluded.”

Jim starts, glances around the room to find he’s the only crew member remaining. He has no chance of concealing the flush on his cheeks when he meets Spock’s eyes again.

“Ah. It appears it has.”

“Is there further clarification you seek, Captain? I am available for the next twelve minutes to answer questions.”

Will you marry me?, he thinks.

“No questions,” he says.

Spock accepts that with the hint of a nod then heads toward the lectern. He shuts off the viewscreen, picks up his padd, then palms the apple.

“Captain,” Spock says. “Thank you for the gift. I find it is most appropriate as it reminds me of you.”

Jim remains in his seat, curiosity getting the better of him. He rests his arms on the table and clasps his hands together. “And how is that, Mr. Spock?”

Spock takes two steps forward, until he’s standing in front of Jim - a table and an apple between them.

“It brings to mind a Terran colloquialism my mother was fond of saying - you are the apple of my eye.”

Important. Viewed with affection. Cared for.

Cherished.

Jim isn’t sure about the origins of that either, but the meaning is crystal clear.

“As you are for me,” he admits.

Spock leans down then and Jim has a mere fraction of a second to realize that Spock is going to kiss him before Spock’s lips are actually against his. It’s a shock of much colder skin first, then softness, then an electric heat that starts at his lips and zings through his entire body.

When Spock inches back, Jim can’t quite breathe.

“Have dinner with me tonight?” he asks.

He sounds just as breathless as he is. He can’t dredge up an ounce of shame for that one.

Spock holds up the apple, his oh-so-Human eyes dancing with sauciness, rebelliousness, and mirth.

“I will bring dessert.”

#spirk #spirk fanfiction #spirk drabble #pick a song request #between-stars-and-enterprise #my fic

[lxvenderjewel]

Personal Log, 2143.07

I keep having this very specific dream, of me and Spock.

It starts out with some fuck-all party, I’m exhausted and I want to go home. Headache-inducing music is floating through the room, and I can practically taste the alcohol in the air.

Looking around, I see much of our crew and one other species, so I assume this is some post-diplomatic party. I’ve always hated these. I sit back on the chair, sipping the shitty drink in my hand while I look around, trying to spot anyone on the bridge crew, just to amuse myself, when I see Spock, sitting alone as well.

I wave at him and he raises an eyebrow in response, so I make my way over to him.

“Do you ever wonder what these parties are even for?” I sigh, dropping onto the seat next to him.

“To celebrate the aftermath of successful diplomacy, sir?” he says, and I smile minutely.

“Yes, but does anyone even like these?”

“Many do, I can see most of our crew enjoying themselves, sir.”

I hum in response, and we sit in quiet silence for a few minutes, the stench of alcohol and sweat growing heavy in the air.

“I can barely breathe,” I say, turning to him. “Wanna go get some air?”

He nods, and I lead him out of the room, to some balcony elsewhere in the building. We both breathe the air deep, and I sit on the floor.

“Will your clothes not get dirty, sir?”

“I don’t really mind, I’m tired. You’re not?”

“Vulcans do not require–”

“Sleep, yeah, I know. But isn't your body tired?”

He considers this a moment, and decides to sit across from me.

I stare.

He stares.

Something is pulling me close to him, closer, too close, I’m going to make a mistake, I need to stop–

I wake up.

#star trek #spirk #k/s #spirk drabble #k/s drabble #fanfic #spirk fanfic #sprik fanfiction #k/s fanfic #spock/kirk #spock x kirk #vanny writes real stories sometimes

[ialwayscomewhenyoucall]

Vulcan Kisses

They try to keep things professional, on the bridge. The whole crew knows about the ridiculously happy captain and his stoic but equally in love first officer, but there is such a thing as decorum. They work together, parted and never parted, hyper aware of each other yet fully focused on their work. The Enterprise, Spock knows, is Jim’s second love.

Still, sometimes in quiet moments Spock will allow his fingertips to brush against Jim’s, or Jim will not so casually rest his hand on the edge of Spock’s PADD, seeking the same brief contact.

The crew looks away, smiling.

#lirael writes #st: tos #spirk drabble #fluff #100 words #vulcan kisses #james t kirk #spock

[givemaycoffee]

Prompt: did you just sniff me?

Oh thank goodness.

Jim sighed in relief as he felt the pull of the transporter. He was surprised, however, when he materialized in the transporter room to find it empty other than his first officer.

“Mr. Spock. It’s good to be back. Where’s the technician?”

Spock didn’t reply. He stepped around the console slowly and Jim realized he had a phaser trained directly on him. Jim’s eyebrows skyrocketed and he put his hands in the air.

“Spock?” Jim took a careful step back.

“Do not move,” Spock finally said. Jim was bewildered, but froze in place, mind racing as he tried to determine his chances of overpowering the Vulcan. Not likely to go in his favor.

Spock stepped in front of him, but Jim was only furthered confused when he leaned in and… sniffed?

“…do I smell that bad?”

Spock leaned back, nodding to himself as he holstered his phaser and clasped his hands behind his back.

“I had to confirm it was indeed you, Captain. Excuse the breach in standard protocol.”

“Have I given you reason to believe I wasn’t myself, Mr. Spock?”

“Indeed, while you were on the planet for negotiations, an imposter beamed aboard that was nearly an exact replica of your person.”

Jim stepped off the platform and followed Spock out of the transporter room as his first explained. He was pleased to find the usual technician waiting outside. She saluted and reentered the room as they left.

“I would ask why I wasn’t informed of this immediately, but I assume the imposter was able to slip under the radar for a while?”

Spock nodded. “He was acting particularly illogically, however as that is not totally outside of your usual parameters of behavior, I did not immediately suspect subterfuge.”

Jim was about to ask what did give the imposter away when it suddenly clicked. He looked over at Spock and grinned.

“So what you’re telling me is they got the personality pretty well but forgot to account for your keen sense of smell, Spock?”

Jim watched with no small amount of delight as the Vulcan blushed.

“Indeed.”

Jim couldn’t help by chuckle as he walked, glancing sideways as Spock continued to stare straight ahead, pointedly avoiding eye contact.

#spirk #Star Trek tos #star trek #spock #jim kirk #james t kirk #may writes #drabble #I found this sitting in my writing notebook as I was flipping through it today and I thought I’d post it so #:3 the only Star Trek piece I’ve ever posted

[teacup-gathering-itself]

James “unfathomable number of allergies and frankly astonishing number of recessive traits” Kirk is visually interesting to Spock especially when compared to the other humans around; of course he subconsciously keeps sliding his gaze over to the captain. He’s also directly under his command, his attention should veer to Kirk as opposed to anyone else on board. It’s just his mind logically choosing who to defer to and who likely will need his attention most urgently. It’s his job, and he’s excellent at this job. That’s all it is. A logical conclusion regarding a noted pattern.

It’s definitely not got anything to do with the way his barely-in-regulation uniform frames his body, or the physique he maintains, or the devastating silhouette he cuts, or the charisma he exudes, or his illogical approach to life that somehow still works, or his exceptionally emotive voice that fills a room effortlessly, or his sheer brilliance and masterful grasp of complex mathematical and scientific concepts, or anything of that sort. Of course not. That would be illogical. And Spock is a being who is rooted in logical above all else.

#star trek imagine #star trek spirk #star trek spock #star trek #Star Trek drabble #star trek kirk #james t kirk #captain kirk #kirk being kirk #jim kirk #kirk/spock #s'chn t'gai spock #spock/kirk #mr spock #spock #spocktober #the premise #vulcan

[c4t1l1n4]

So I wrote a quick little short fic about THIS cute comic by @uhuraborealis. I wrote it just now in like 10 minutes so it's not edited, but you can read it under the cut!

Vulcans Tell No Lies

Spock knows that when Jim approaches him with a look like that, nothing good is going to come of it.

“Spock,” Jim asks, voice full of wonder and eyes full of stars. “Can you meld with the Enterprise? Tell her I love her?”

Spock considers the captain for a moment. It’s not something he’s thought about—mind-melding with a ship. He doesn’t really think that anything would happen, as much as he’s touched the console and felt nothing in response. He knows that humans refer to ships as female and often personify them out of loneliness or a need for bonding. He doesn’t understand why humans can’t just appreciate a machine for the tasks it performs, but seeing as much as Dr. McCoy tries to project his human emotions on Spock himself, he supposes that it must just be second nature to them.

He indulges in a more human tendency, seeing as it was just him and Jim, and sighs. It cannot hurt to try, if not for the very least on the premise of scientific discovery, and it’s not like there’s anyone around to judge him.

“Fine.” He agrees rather bluntly, but Jim just looks at him, enthralled.

Spock supposes, as he places a hand on the console, that he can always lie for the sake of appeasing Jim. Vulcans do not lie, but as McCoy always points out, Spock is only half-vulcan, and half-vulcans can bend the truth. 

However, as he reaches out for what he can find of the consciousness of the Enterprise, he finds that he has no reason to lie. He is so caught off guard by the discovery as some form of being reaches back towards him, that he is overwhelmed by the experience.

The Enterprise does not think in the same way, with clear structure, intent, or words. No, she thinks with colors and emotions, bright and loud, filling up his senses. She is overwhelmingly a she, and she imparts him with the notion that she will tolerate nothing less from him, even if it means zapping him through the console like a misbehaving child.

He supposes that might be the best way to describe the way she feels about the crew—as children. They are all so much smaller than her, and she cares for them, treating them as gently as she can. In return, they treat her with love and respect and keep her in working order. If Dr. McCoy would stop hitting the biobed display screens when he was frustrated, she would appreciate that, though.

After taking a moment to reign the sensory flood back in, Spock organizes his mind and sends a specific train of thought to her. The words do not translate to her, so he tries to phrase them in a way she would understand, thinking of command gold, bright eyes, and a happy spirit. He focuses on the general sense of cheer, well-being, and concern that Jim carries for every member of his crew, but also on the horribly mushy feeling Spock gets on the inside when thinking about him.

Color ripples across his vision, something like laughter, and he thinks she gets the point. The reply he gets in return is what he sent tenfold—a tidal wave of things he could not possibly put into words and yet understands perfectly. He thanks her, sending a bright wave of gratitude radiating warmly from deep inside him, and pulls away.

He opens his eyes and looks over to Jim, who is waiting patiently. Curiosity and excitement dance in his eyes. There is no possible way to convey what he experienced in what felt like hours but was probably only seconds, so instead he says, “She loves you back.”

When Jim beams at him, smile wide and eyes glistening, Spock is glad it is no lie at all.

#star trek #fanfiction #star trek tos #star trek fanfiction #drabble #quick fic #inspired by art #fanart #star trek fanart #please excuse the lack of editing #i'm tired and this inspiration came out of nowhere #probs to the original artist #please check out and interact with the original post #hints of spirk because obv

[indeedcaptain]

Spirktober 2023, day 27: Scratches

Buh-bam: here's another little drabble. Behold: Bones finds out.

☆☆☆

“Bones, please, it’s not a big deal. They just sting a little bit.”

“Not a big deal? Jesus, Jim! Would you have even told me if Uhura hadn’t ratted you out?” 

“No, I wouldn’t have! Honestly, I didn’t even know they were there.” 

“There is blood! Coming through your shirt! How did you not know they were there?” 

Jim scratched the back of his head, staring at the bioscanner beeping cheerily next to him. His heart rate, blood pressure, and temperature all looked great. He didn’t have any broken bones. He was in an excellent mood. But Uhura had seen a tiny bit of blood staining his command golds and gasped, “Captain!” loudly enough for the rest of the bridge crew to turn to look at him and voice their concerns. 

All, of course, except Mr. Spock, who had refused to turn to see what was happening, staring dutifully into his sensors instead. Jim had deputized him to take the conn and departed for medbay before he could laugh.

Unfortunately, Bones did not think the blood on his shirt was as funny as he did, and he was rapidly running out of excuses. 

“Was this from an away mission? Did someone with a grudge come after you in the gym? Let me see, Jim---”

“Bones, stop! It’s fine! I swear, I would have told you if it was serious, and it wasn’t serious!” 

“Oh, so you do know where they’re from?” 

Jim bit his lip and refused to meet Bones’s eyes. “I don’t know,” he said unconvincingly. Bones planted his hands on his hips, raising his eyebrows. 

“Alright, then!” Jim pushed himself to his feet. “Since it’s all fine and nothing is wrong, I’ll just go home and change---”

“Don’t you even---”

Jim tried to duck out of the way, but Bones was faster. He caught the back of Jim’s collar in one hand as Jim twisted away, and with an almighty rending of fabric the damn shirt tore halfway down his back. If he ever met someone from Starfleet Fabrications and Material Construction he was going to have words with them. The number of shirts he had ripped on this mission alone…

Bones stared in disbelief at his exposed back as Jim fought and lost to the rising flush on his cheeks. “So I’ll be going now,” he said. 

“Jesus, Jim,” Bones said again, softly. “Someone did this to you.” Bones gently reached one hand up, and the look on his face was so distraught that Jim knew he had to tell him the truth before he assumed something far worse. 

“No, it’s not like that. It wasn’t in anger.”

The distress drained away immediately, replaced with suspicion. The extended hand clenched into a fist and was returned to Bones’s waist as the good doctor regarded him with narrowed eyes. Jim’s face burned hotter and he knew he was as red as a summer tomato, but he held eye contact. 

“Someone clawed at your back hard enough to break the skin, and it wasn’t in anger,” Bones said. 

“That’s correct, doc.” 

Bones eyed the scratches on his back --- that Jim truly had not known were there, hadn’t even registered them as painful in the moment--- and then Jim saw, in the dawning shock and amused horror on Bones’s face, the pieces coming together. This wasn’t exactly how he had intended to tell his best friend that he had finally managed to successfully woo his first officer, but the truth will out. 

“Well, at least that’s a relief,” Bones finally said. “Whose hands are so damn big?” 

“Can I have another shirt, please?”

Bones finally turned away from him, heading towards the storage closet. Jim followed. “I would appreciate your discretion, doctor,” Jim said. 

“In what, Jim? Your adventures across the galaxy aren’t exactly a secret. You don’t normally sleep with crewmates, that’s true, but I suppose…” 

“It’s not like that this time, Bones,” Jim said. 

“Not like that? Who am even I talking to right now?” Bones muttered, pulled a new black t-shirt from a box in the closet, and turned back to him. Then Jim saw Bones’s eyes fixate on his face and shoulders and take him in--- his flushed cheeks, his half-smile, the scratches on his back that had been left by someone with great strength and enormous hands. He grinned wholeheartedly as Bones spluttered. 

“Jim Kirk, you did not.” 

“Oh, but I did,” he said, with great delight, and took the shirt from Bones’s limp hands. “And I intend to do it again. And again. Maybe forever.” 

“Stop,” Bones said immediately, throwing his hands into the air. “I don’t want to know any more. Matter of fact, I don’t want to think about this topic at all.” 

“Are you sure?” Jim teased, following Bones back out into the main Medbay. “I thought you wanted to know what happened. Weren’t you so worried just a moment ago? Can I at least get an antiseptic?” 

Bones grabbed a tube of antiseptic from a biobed drawer and threw it at him. “Get out!” 

“You’re not going to help me?” 

With a withering look, Bones turned to disappear into his office. “Get your boyfriend to do it.”  “Maybe I will!” Jim called, and Bones slammed the door in his face. He was having an excellent day, and it wasn’t even lunchtime. With a spring in his step he departed. Maybe he would call Spock to help with the antiseptic. They were due for a few conversations, anyway.

#spock #spirk #kirk #my writing #spirktober2023 #k/s #kirk/spock #kirk & bones #k/s drabble #kirk/spock drabble

[junewild]

"It's aliens."

“It’s not aliens, Mulder.” Scully retorted, sweeping the beam of her flashlight across the deserted park. Someone had called in suspicious activity--something about heavy wind and lights in the sky. "It's never aliens."

"Lights in the sky are one of the most classic tells," Mulder argued, angling his own light into the grass. "If there's smoke, there's fire. Plus a heavy wind? In the middle of San Francisco? Localized to the Golden Gate Park?"

She rolled her eyes. "Not all fires come from little alien engines."

"No, look at this," he insisted. "This indentation in the grass over there. It's weird." He began to walk toward it, his long legs eating up the ground.

Scully glanced his way, unimpressed. "That could be anything. Someone set up a volleyball court too hard." She resumed her casual study of the trees, off to the left.

Mulder didn't reply. Uncharacteristic. Scully looked over again, and--

"Fox!"

He was lying crumpled on the ground.

Scully was an expert at running in heels. She was by his side in no time. She knelt down, training the flashlight on his face. A cut was dripping blood down the side of his forehead.

"Mulder," he murmured. "It's Mulder."

He was awake, at least. Scully swallowed her initial distress and put on a business-like air. "What happened?"

He waved a hand vaguely. "Air's solid."

"Air isn't solid."

"This air is." This time his hand moved further before stopping abruptly. Scully heard a thud.

"I don't understand," she said, reaching out one hand tentatively herself. "Are you talking about some kind of electromagnetic field?"

"It's a wall," he replied, sounding drowsy. "An invisible wall."

Scully's searching fingers found--solid. She stroked along it. It was cold and had the distinct texture of metal.

"I don't understand," she said again, mostly to herself. "It's a trick of the light. It has to be."

She found herself reaching for her sidearm.

Bright light spilled over her from above, and her arm jerked upward to shield her eyes. "What?!"

A door was taking shape a few feet up and to the right. She squinted at it, uncomprehending.

"A wall," Mulder repeated happily. "'S got a door and everything."

Three figures resolved in the doorway. They began to float--or, no, to walk?--down. Scully had dropped her flashlight, but she fumbled for it with one hand and unholstered her pistol with the other.

"There's no need for that," one of the figures said. They were at the bottom of the invisible ramp now. As the three of them turned toward Scully, she swept her flashlight across their faces. Three men, one of them a little shorter than the others. They were wearing some kind of uniform, though in two different colors. One of them, in blue, had some kind of square device in his hand.

But it was the other one dressed in blue that Scully had a hard time taking her eyes off of. His face was wrong. Human-like, but different. Dark eyebrows swept dramatically up above his eyes. Pointed ears curved up along his temples. His face was emotionless.

The yellow-shirted one was smiling. He was the one who had initially spoken. "It looks like your friend is a little out of it. Can my doctor take a look at him?"

"I--I suppose so," Scully said, finding herself at a loss for words.

"Bones," the man who seemed to be the leader of the group said, "go ahead and patch him up. I don't want to leave anyone worse off than they were when we leave."

Bones (what an odd name for a man) strode forward briskly, holding his rectangular object. Scully put out a hand. "Don't bring that thing near him."

He ignored her. "This is a tricorder. I can see from here that he's bleeding, but he's probably concussed."

"An alien," Mulder said, wonderingly.

"I'm a doctor, not an alien," Bones retorted acerbically. "Now, Spock over there is as alien as they come." He moved Scully to the side, not ungently, and knelt over Mulder's prone body.

"Half alien," the other blue-shirted man corrected. His tone was as emotionless as his face. "My mother was a human. My father was a Vulcan. Admiral, a concussion is far from fatal. There is no reason to compromise our camouflage."

"Nonsense, Spock." The admiral smiled at Scully. "You heard them. They were looking for us. Why, they found us. We might as well have a chat."

Spock tilted his head. "Jim."

"Perhaps they'll know something about whales," the admiral--Jim?--added.

Scully was not keeping up with this discussion. "Whales? Like the mammal?"

"Ah! I see you're educated. Many people of this time seem to consider them fish."

"Illogical, as they are warm-blooded and nurse their young," Spock murmured. "They are clearly not fish."

"Yes, well." Jim extended a hand to Scully, and she realized that she was still kneeling on the ground. Defiantly, she rose by herself.

He retracted the hand, still smiling. "How is the patient, Bones?"

"He's concussed, Jim," the doctor replied. "It's not brain surgery, but I'd like to keep him under observation for the next day or so."

Jim seemed delighted by the news. "Then I will invite you to accompany me into the ship, Miss--"

Scully realized that she had not introduced herself. "Special Agent Scully," she replied. "And this is Special Agent Mulder. I'm with the FBI."

"The FBI," Jim said, sounding thoughtful. "Weren't they something to do with food inspection?"

"You are thinking of the FDA, Jim," Spock corrected. "The FBI were one of the American government's primary security and law enforcement agencies."

Jim's smile fell slightly, but then it brightened again and he clapped his hands together. "Well then, I'll have to introduce you to Pavel. You can share security tips."

"I haven't said I would come aboard," Scully said, feeling the need to exert some agency. "If Mulder is concussed, I should take him to a hospital."

Bones made an extremely rude sound from where he now stood, having gotten up. "A hospital? In the 20th century? They'll butcher him. Absolutely not. No patient of mine would be caught dead in a hospital."

Scully dug in her (metaphorical, seeing as her literal heels were already quite well dug into the grass) heels. "I don't know you from Adam," she insisted. "Why should I trust you with Mulder?"

"Jim," Bones said, with a meaningful glance at Jim.

"Doctor McCoy," Spock began, with a meaningful glance at Bones.

Jim ignored them both. "He will be in the best hands here," he assured Scully. "I would trust Bones with my life. Indeed, on many occasions, he has saved many of my crew, including myself and Captain Spock."

Spock's meaningful glance was now directed at Jim, but it was a different flavor. These men are very important to each other, Scully decided.

But it was time to start putting the puzzle pieces together. "Captain?" she asked. "Admiral?"

Jim beamed. "Yes! Welcome to the--well, this isn't the Enterprise." The smile faded again. "Welcome to this Klingon warbird. I am Admiral James T. Kirk, and this is, er, Captain Spock. We are Starfleet officers."

"Starfleet," Scully repeated. "And you're from--where, exactly?"

"Earth," Jim replied, at the same time as Spock said "Vulcan."

"Earth doesn't have a Starfleet," she protested.

Jim held up a finger. "Earth of today doesn't have a Starfleet. Earth of the twenty-third century?"

If it weren't for the door open in the sky, Scully would have laughed in his face. "Time travel? And aliens?"

"Alien," Jim said. "Singular. Half, really, on his father's side. Shall we?" He gestured in the direction of what, if Scully remembered correctly, was an invisible ramp.

Mulder would never forgive me if I said no, she thought, with a sigh. "Might as well, if the truth is in there."

#ao3topshipsbracket #spirk #msr #sculder #kirk/spock #scully/mulder #k talks #i literally do not know what happened #i started writing a drabble and then i blacked out and looked up and it had been two hours #my laptop is almost out of battery. what is happening #it is 1300 words!!! #anyway i have watched exactly three episodes of the x-files and it shows #i'm sorry #how do i tag this #au where the x files takes place a few years earlier i guess #the x files #star trek #star trek tos #star trek the original series #the x files star trek crossover #again i am SO sorry

[sarastars]

Wrote this little Spirk drabble for @lovelylutes in the matter of 18 (?) minutes.

Jim wants to sleep. Literally in both ways, sleep with his fiancé and also pass the hell out. Spock’s got a routine he needs to stick to, and his lover understands that just like he understands Spock’s soft touches of reassurance.

Enjoy!

Breathless

“Spock, come onnnn. I’m tired and I want to cuddle.” Jim’s voice was a soft plea into Spock’s ear, arms wrapped around him wrong behind to lean his weight lazily against Spock’s back.

“As I have mentioned before, if we are to share a bed, then I do expect you to be thoroughly clean before joining me.” Spock told him, his hands not hesitating when they came to rest atop of Jim’s own.

It was a small gesture, but it was enough to let Jim know without words that Spock meant no harm with his requests. It was simply a matter of comfort and just the way his brain worked, Jim understood that thoroughly. He just liked being a brat.

“You wanna get me all clean so we can have a bit of fun before bed?” The whisper was soft against Spock’s ear, enough to make a shiver run through his body and make his head tip to the side.

“James.” Spock practically growled the name, the softest sigh falling from his lips.

Jim couldn’t help the grin Spock’s reaction caused. Gently squeezing Spock’s hips, kissing his cheek, and then pulling away, he finally went to shower. When he returned, he only wore a pair of tight briefs (the ones with tiny planets on them that always got an amused sound out of Spock) and was drying out the last droplets of hair with his -it was Spock’s- towel. He was confronted with a shirtless Spock, sitting on the bed with his lower half covered by the blanket and his PADD in his hand.

Now. Jim was a twenty something year old with a stupendous love for his fiancé. And now that he was showered and allowed back into bed, well…

Hands quickly found their way on the Vulcan’s shoulders, the PADD being carefully placed aside as Spock’s hands were occupied with Jim’s hips instead. A soft kiss, Jim’s knees bending so he could sit on his lover’s lap.

After two rounds made up of a mess of fingers in hair, heat and sweat underneath the sheets, soft sounds that would stay in the confines of the captain’s quarters…was when the couple did finally drift off.

#spirk #jim kirk #spock #drabble #fanfic #star trek

[curator-on-ao3]

Chapters: 1/1 Fandom: Star Trek: Strange New Worlds (TV), Star Trek: Alternate Original Series (Movies) Rating: General Audiences Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Relationships: James T. Kirk/Nyota Uhura, Spock/Nyota Uhura, James T. Kirk/Spock, Christine Chapel/Spock Characters: Nyota Uhura, James T. Kirk, Spock (Star Trek) Additional Tags: drabble, reflections on the prime and Kelvin timelines, Episode: s02e06 Lost in Translation (Star Trek: Strange New Worlds), Movie: Star Trek (2009), beginnings Summary: Meeting James echoes in Nyota’s mind as if … as if it had happened before or would happen again?

#fanfic #star trek strange new worlds fanfic #star trek strange new worlds spoilers #star trek strange new worlds season two #star trek strange new worlds #nyota uhura #james t kirk #spock #star trek alternate original series #james t kirk/nyota uhura #spock/nyota uhura #james t kirk/spock #spirk #christine chapel/spock #spapel #drabble

[sourirenoire]

Spirktober 2022: Drabble Writing Challenge

Link to original post: https://at.tumblr.com/blairamok/made-a-spirktober-prompt-list-feel-free-to-join/z294y5s90nw4

Day Ten: Mindmeld

Sometimes Jim forgot Spock was an alien. 

“Meld with me.” Spock’s voice was husky. They’d been kissing, hands slid up uniform tunics. 

“You’re sure?” Jim swallowed. Spock gave a barely-there smile.   “Yes, please Jim…” Jim’s heart skipped a beat. In the red lighting Spock appeared utterly alien; the curve of his ears and flared eyebrows were not human. Fear shot up his spine as Spock’s fingers made contact - he felt something in his mind…yet the presence was not unwelcome. As he relaxed the presence shifted - it felt like desire - Jim kissed his first officer, the sensation reverberating through the meld.

#spirktober 2022 #star trek #spirk #kirk/spock #k/s #the premise #drabble #drabble challenge #fanfiction #fanfic #star trek fanfiction #my writing #mildly nsfw? #mindmeld #vulcan mindmeld

[captnjtkirka]

who am i kidding? i’mma talk about spirk from kirk’s angle bc i can. listen, this is specifically tos spirk bc i am so weak for tos.

i always picture spock as the more dominant one in the relationship. SPock seems like the type to take charge when it comes to them, and maybe the first to confess his love, or, he says something to trigger kirk to confess his love. it honestly depends on who’s writing it. Spock is obviously going to be over protective of kirk and more likely to do arguably illogical actions to keep kirk safe, not much, but sometimes he will. obviously he still values logic, but he’s more likely to take risks. this doesn’t change kirk who’s always been more willing to take risks to keep spock safe. spock and kirk spend even more of their off hours together, with kirk always using chess as a mean to get spock to spend time outside of his quarters. kirk’s definitely more physical oriented with touch, but is mindful that vulcans don’t like physical touch, so he’s always a little bit shyer about asking spock to hold hands/cuddle/spoon together. and in any universe, kirk is little spoon. fight me on this.

i dont know, popular fanon is kirk is always confident around spock, but i feel like i like soft slightly more shyer kirk because i feel like kirk wouldn’t know how to approach spock in a relationship at first because spock’s very....vulcan. like spock’s not the type kirk usually flirts with and isn’t the type to respond to kirk’s usual methods? idk i like the dynamic of spock taking lead and being confident and kirk being absolutely slightly more shy and wooed? at least at first until they find their rhythm. but that’s me!

but i welcome opinions and views on the matter bc... i like to see it. <3

#headcanon | what makes a captain #i like really fluffy cute spirk ok? sue me im...soft..... #maybe one day i'll write a spirk drabble or fic or something....

[gimmemorespirk]

Profoundness of Sensation by Gimmemore

Word Count: 100

Chapters: 1/1

Fandom: Star Trek, Star Trek: The Original Series

Rating: Mature

Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply

Relationships: James T. Kirk/Spock

Characters: James T. Kirk, Spock (Star Trek)

Additional Tags: Episode: s02e05 Amok Time, Non-Explicit Sex, Pon Farr, Vulcan Bond, Drabble, Wordcount: 100

Summary: A *very* small take on rolling in the sands of Vulcan amid Spock's pon farr in TOS.

#gimmemore writes #my fic #spirk #profoundness of sensation #drabble #Kirk #Spock #for the needs of the queue

[ialwayscomewhenyoucall]

In All Seasons, or None

“Do you miss Vulcan?”

Jim and Spock are sitting at the end of a small wooden dock, bare feet dangling just above the lapping water. It’s unusual, this time away from the Enterprise; this time is exceptional for the small fact that Jim convinced Spock to leave his work on the ship. He doesn’t even have a PADD with him.

There’s a nearly imperceptible movement from Spock, one Jim recognizes as Spock’s version of a shrug. “It is merely a place,” Spock says evenly.

The noise Jim makes is perilously close to a snort. “It’s your home, Spock. It’s not just a place. It’s experiences, memories, people.”

“I sometimes miss my mother,” Spock concedes. He stares out across the water, fingers reflexively seeking out Jim’s hand for brief contact. “My relationship with Sarek is…”

“Complicated,” Jim says, bumping their shoulders together.

“And you, ashayam?”

“I don’t miss Vulcan much at all,” Jim quips; this startles a rare, true smile from Spock. He leans into Spock again, relishing even the brief contact. “When we’re on the ship I don’t miss Earth. Not often, anyway. It’s days like this that remind me what it was like to have solid ground under my feet, day in and day out.” He leans back onto his hands to look at the cloudless, bright blue sky. “That makes it sound—” A strangled sound escapes his lips. “I loved Iowa, especially in spring. Cold melting away to reveal tiny green shoots of grass, spring flowers pushing up through the snow, the buds on the trees so bright it hurt my eyes. Summer was warm and full of fresh air and getting into trouble, but the coming of spring was always my favorite.”

“You miss the changing seasons,” Spock says.

“Yes.” He closes his eyes, remembering the reds and golds of autumn, the greens of spring, the bright blue of summer. He doesn’t dwell on the soft white of winter—he’s never liked the cold—but he does have fond childhood memories of stomping across a field of freshly fallen snow to leave his mark on an untouched world. It was partly that joy that morphed into wanting to step on strange new worlds, to place his feet where no human had been before.

“The Enterprise is my home,” Jim says. “You are my home.”

“And you are mine—in all seasons, and in the dark of space.”

**

31 days of ficmas, day 14 - season

#31 days of ficmas #spirk #star trek: tos #memories #i love them #quadruple drabble

[ahria-lethe]

Star Trek: AOS

Kirk/Spock

Prompt: Vacation

It's cold everywhere except where the blood gushes hot against his skin. Spock's hands cover the wound.

Exhaustion drags at him.

"You know, when we get out of here, we should take a vacation."

"Where would you like to go?"

Jim tips his head back to look up at Spock. It must be bad if the Vulcan is agreeing with him. 

"Somewhere warm. By the ocean maybe."

Spock's arms tighten around him. 

"Stay awake and I will take you." 

Jim smiles even though this easy agreement is a terrible sign. 

"We'll have fun," he slurs as his eyes slide closed.

#star trek: aos #spirk #drabble #fanfiction #ahria writes

[spirkme915]

i'm following a ton of talented spirk artists here, where are the fic writers at? please tell me they're not on twitter. please.

#spirk #star trek fanfiction #spirk fanfic #spirk fic #doesn't matter if you do drabbles to epics #i want to read your stuff!