Star Trek Reader Inserts 3

Kirk [Triggering]

**This one revolves around self harm. Please do not read if it is upsetting to you, no matter how tempting it is. This chapter is in no way glorifying self harm.
I am sorry for not full filling requests at the moment, I just felt like writing one of these as I am dealing with quite a lot. I DO NOT take requests for these, they stress me out even more. I hope you guys understand. Enjoy the chapter.
I'm taking a break from requests. They won't be getting done until I write what's kinda in my drafts (not much) and then I'll do my requests again.**

"You keep fiddling with your hands?" Your husband, Jim Kirk, stated as well as asking. You had been fiddling with and chipping away at your painted fingernails. The paint flaked off, a small tugging sensation with it.

"Hm?" You ask, looking up from your hands. Your sleeves were pulled down far over your cuts, dozens of them littered your skin. You were relatively thin, so whenever you cut you could see the veins bulging from under your skin.

"You're just fiddling with your hands. You okay?" He asked again, getting up from his chair and moving to one right beside you. You froze, nervous that he would want to see your arms. Three years ago you two had married, two years ago you got depression, it's been one year of hiding the self harm. Jim didn't cause your issues at all, no one did. You didn't know what happened, you just got very sad. You refused to seek help, that made you see, too insane.

You looked up at Jim, fear striking your heart. His face fell as he noticed the changes. "You don't love me anymore, do you.." Jim muttered, tears beginning to brim his eyes. Instinctually, you pulled him into a hug, pain soaring through your arms as the cuts ripped apart.

"That, that's not it at all. I can't tell you what it is Jim, I can't.." You mutter, tears pouring from your eyes. You looked over Jim's shoulder at your arms, gasping as you noticed your arms.

Blood seeped through your shirt, staining the fabric on both yours and Jim's shirt. The stains were straight, as straight as the razor used to make the cuts with. You leapt away from Jim, trembling violently and rubbing at your arms vigorously. Desperately, you tried to rub the cuts and stains from your shirt and arms, but it was far too late. Jim had seen, he knew.

"Y/N... Oh my god..." Jim murmured, rushing into the bathroom. You collapsed to your knees, sobbing more as you heard Jim throw up in the other room. He was disgusted with you, you thought, continuing to tremble.

Jim emerged from the bathroom soon after, the look of pain and defeat on his face. He had a towel in one hand, a medical kit in the other. "Jim.. if you hate me now, if you're disgusted in me, go ahead and leave me. I understand. You can leave." You state, choking on your own words. You began to hyperventilate and choke, feeling as though you would throw up as well.

"Y/N, I love you with everything I have, I always will. This... this is just a massive shock to me.. I hate that I haven't noticed it before.. I always respected your choices on how you present your body and I thought that it was just because you weren't comfortable.. I didn't know this was why.. I am so incredibly sorry." Jim confessed, wiping his eyes with the back of his hand. He gently took your hands, rolling up your sleeves.

You couldn't even reply, you could only cry and watch him. He pressed the towel to both your arms, stopping the slow blood flow. You waited until he bandaged your cuts, kissing the inside of your arm gently with his lips. "Thank you.." You stutter out, crying as he pulled you close again.

"I would do that as many times as I need to... I don't want to do it more, please, for me, let's get you some help. I know there is going to be downfalls and setbacks, but let's try and reduce the self harm as much as possible. I have some old ones of my own, I know Y/N, I know." Jim told you, picking you up and putting you in bed to cuddle together. You smiled, kissing his cheek lightly. You noticed the scars on him before, jagged circles on his arms and chest. Burn marks you later discovered.

You felt relieved yet scared that Jim knew now. He didn't react badly, he actually wanted to help you. And that felt better than anything.

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I'm so sorry this is so crappy I just felt like writing it.