TOS Spock w/ a Touch Starved! S/O
A/N: When I get specific requests like this it makes me wonder if ya'll are okay!
Prompt: Spock and a Touchstarved S/O
It was one of the reasons you and Spock got along so well.
You didn't treat him like an outsider, and he never judged you for your struggle with physical touch.
When he first offered you the ozh'esta (Vulcan finger kiss) you were hesitant.
It was hard to feel what he meant at first until it hit you all at once.
You almost fainted due to the stimulation.
He felt bad at first until he saw the reason why you had such an adverse reaction.
The two of you decide on slow exposure therapy.
It starts slowly with the ozh'esta then the two of you hold hands.
It takes a while before he can hold you comfortably, but you start to enjoy it.
It takes time and effort but the two of you eventually find a way to make it work.
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Marks, or Dots, or Spots
Very small OC drabble!! This takes place in a first contact AU, though that’s not terribly important to the drabble. Amelia is human, T’Mira is vulcan, and I’m so normal about them.
cw for vague mention of drug use
Objectively, T’Mira was beautiful. Amelia couldn’t help noticing it— she looked like one of those runway models, someone you would see on an old magazine. All harsh lines and subtle grace, not a single hair on her head out of place.
Two small moles lined T’Mira’s face; one near her left eye, the other by the right side of her mouth. Laid haphazardly on her own bed, Amelia honed in on those marks, study material long abandoned on the floor.
T’Mira must’ve noticed the staring by now, but kept her focus firmly on her tablet. In tune with the changing of a new song, Amelia ever-so slowly reached a hand out. She watched, intent, for even a minute sign that the other girl would turn away. When T’Mira didn’t even flinch, the tip of a tapered ear only giving a small swivel, Amelia pressed the tip of her finger to the mole under T’Mira’s eye. Her skin was cold, colder than expected.
T’Mira startled for only a moment, blinking rapidly before staring at Amelia from the side of her eyes. She only raised an eyebrow, waiting for an explanation.
“You know what we call these on earth?” T’Mira blinked, again, brows almost creasing. Amelia let a wide smile spread across her face. She loved it when T’Mira brow got that cute little crease. “Beauty marks.”
That time, T’Mira really startled, the tips of her ears flushing an almost green. She turned to Amelia fully, not once disturbing the hand. “I. I do not see the use in calling them anything but what they are— moles. They do not inherently make one more or less aesthetically-“
“My grandma used to call em’ ‘kisses from god’. I’ve heard people say they’re where you were kissed most in your past life.”
“I believe not in reincarnation, nor in a higher power.” Despite the clipped tone, T’Mira made no move to remove her hand. Humming, Amelia trailed the digit down T’Mira face, slowly creeping to the mark near the vulcan’s lip.
It was only then, with the skip of her red heart, that Amelia realized she had yet to tell T’Mira how humans kiss.
“Neither do I.” Her tone was nonchalant, casual, as she dared to inch her finger a bit higher. Just under the corner of T’Mira’s lip, a whisper away from truly touching. Those eyes, those dark, black eyes, stared into Amelia, seeming almost hazy around the edges. Amelia could only smile. “Doesn’t make em’ any less cute.”
T’Mira really did turn her head after that, busying herself with reading whatever the Vuhlkansu on her tablet said. Amelia let her hand fall with the motion, and yet, she truly didn’t mind. In the moment, she was far more entertained with watching T’Mira’s ear flick once, twice, thrice. She was blushing, still.
Giving up on trying to steal T’Mira’s attention for what must’ve been the 5th time that hour, Amelia flopped back on the bed. With an obnoxious stretch, she grunted, then sighed, almost peevish from boredom. The Vulcans didn’t have much for entertainment, at least, not much that Amelia could yet understand. The shoddy translator worked well enough, sure, but she couldn’t read or write Vuhlkansu for shit. She didn’t see the point of watching Vulcan media without T’Mira there to explain the context, and Amelia was hardly going to force her from whatever book she was reading. Kal-toh evaded her still, to the point Amelia had nearly given up trying. The various forms and genres of Vulcan music she’d been exposed to were balms, yes, endlessly fascinating, and she was immensely grateful for them— but, fuck— Amelia needed something to do.
Not to mention, alongside all that, her cart was far past saving. Amelia flung an arm over her eyes, almost starfished on the bed, and accepted her fate of doing absolutely nothing for the next few hours. Maybe she’d get a nap in.
“Your-“ Amelia perked up at that, T’Mira’s voice breaking past the hum of whichever Vulcan folk song was playing. “Your spots.”
“My ‘spots’? You mean my freckles?” Amelia sounded fond, terribly fond. Teasing, too, but that was to be expected from her.
“‘Freckles’… yes, your freckles. They are, well, they are quite,” Amelia didn’t move her eyes from the back of T’Mira’s head, from that elaborate, braided up-do. Gems that looked like pearls were spaced intermittently throughout T’Mira’s straight, black locks, twirled within big and small braids alike. There was an itch in Amelia’s fingers. Did Vulcan hair feel the same as a Human’s? “Quite-“
T’Mira’s shoulders were ramrod, as tense and awkward as the girl’s posture. As if she slouched for even a moment, her spine would simply snap. In some ways, T’Mira’s anxious nature is what drew Amelia to her. It certainly made her more approachable, compared to the dead-eyed stares she got from a good portion of her alien hosts. “Quite aesthetically-”
God, Amelia had gone off in her own head again, hadn’t she? Christ, what had they been talking about again? Freckles, right? T’Mira was talking about human spots, and moles, and aesthetics, which, really, could only go one way-
“Aesthetically pleasing.”
Huh. Amelia hadn’t been expected that.
“Oh, really, you’re too sweet.” T’Mira opened her mouth to combat that, obviously about to make a comment about carbohydrates and how she had no similarities with them, but Amelia placed a hand on her back to stop her. Cold, even through the clothes. “They’re fine, I guess, but thank you. I’ll always take a compliment, especially if it’s from you.”
T’Mira stayed quiet. Amelia kept her hand there, small against the expanse of T’Mira’s  elaborate robes. As the song changed again, a familiar sense of recklessness phased through Amelia, and with it, she pushed herself up off the mattress. Turning— fuzzy, human styled socks hitting the wall— Amelia rested her back against T’Mira’s, and pushed herself closer. T’Mira was cold, sure, but, eh. The ship was entirely too warm anyways.
Amelia nuzzled herself into T’Mira, closing her eyes, and let her head hit the other girl’s shoulder. T’Mira didn’t move.
T’Mira didn’t move till hours later, when Amelia had stirred from her odd human nap, with her odd human dreams. She didn’t move till Amelia had blinked the sleep from her eyes, yawning that odd human yawn, and blearily asked T’Mira what time it was. How alien, how weird. And yet-
T’Mira hadn’t moved. No, she hadn’t moved, not once, not at all.
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Oh may I please request some romantic headcanons with Spock and Soval?
Romantic ENT Soval HCs:
A/N: I haven't done a lot of Enterprise stuff so I figured I would just stick with that since I'm running out of ideas for Spock rn.
He struggles to show you "emotional" gestures of affection.
He prefers to show his love in quieter softer ways.
Sometimes he will present you with flowers, each arrangement proclaiming a deeper vibrant message.
Other times he displays his affection by "indulging" in your earthly pleasures; food, entertainment, etc.
He enjoys Jane Austin Novels. You let him borrow one of your copies and he was fascinated by it.
On the rare occasion, he does perform public displays of affection, he will either offer you an ozh'esta or hold your hand. It is easy to hide under long sleeves.
When you wear traditional or popular Vulcan clothing he has to work twice as hard to contain himself.
He does like to indulge in Earth's pleasures but he's a mess when you embrace his.
During meditations, he will allow you to spend time near him as long as you are silent.
It is difficult when you tempt him away from his practices.
He is such a sugar daddy.
If the two of you are going to an important event together he will have you dressed in nothing except the finest.
He insists it's to make sure you both make a good impression.
But he in reality just likes to show off his cute human (husband/wife/partner) to make other diplomats jealous.
He may not indulge his other emotions externally but that doesn't mean he doesn't indulge his pride.
And you are his absolute pride.
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