#i feel like shed actually have a hard time keeping her emotions at bay with anyone

[thebigqueer]

honestly i dont think its that vi has a hard time opening up to people i think its more so that its more difficult to gain her trust. but once someone gains her trust i think she opens up pretty easily. like she knew cait for probably at max 3 days and she clearly had her reservations about her for like 2 of those but then theres that scene on caits bed and she just immediately spills some of her deepest regrets and shes known this girl for less than 3 days.

[writingintheshadowsforever]

Kate Bishop x Reader Not Who You Think I Am Part 7

"Take off the mask." It wasn't a command this time but a plea. Her bow still laid at her feet with her knees quaking, and her eyes blinking back tears.

Her words barely reached your ears but a gust of wind blew by carrying them to you. Along with the tone of disbelief in her voice as well. Kate was telling herself this was all just one big mistake, or better yet a nightmare. She took a hard fall somewhere between getting off the plane and heading home. You were hovering over her hospital bed right now with glistening eyes begging her to wake up. Because the reality of this situation wasn't something she could handle. Not when she just barely survived her own mother betraying her in so many ways. Not when her mother revealed her father was anything but the hero she remembered he was.

You were her person. Her safe place. Her peace.

She buried herself in your arms night after nighter shedding tears for putting her mom in jail, and every single night you had told she had done the right thing. Out of everything you were to her the most important thing was being her reassurance. But now her entire image of you was beyond destroyed as she watched. Her nemesis who she believed you needed protection from lifted the wolf mask revealing to her. The two of you were actually the same person, and you had been playing her from the start.

What else did you lie to her about? Had you been under Fisk's payroll this entire time? Why weren't you present at the events that went down during Christmas last year? Did Fisk keep you on standby so he could use you later on?

"Why?" was the only word Kate could utter in the moment before she broke. Her bow clattered to the ground along with the arrow. Her legs carried her backwards till she felt her back connect with wall next to the door. She braced herself against for support with her body left with no strength to keep her standing.

You were still positioned on the ledge with your mask sitting atop of your head. Tears cascading down your face at the sight of your beloved breaking down. "Katie please I need you to understand-"

"Understand what" she fired back cutting you back as her voice finally returned. Kate pushed off from the wall to stalk back towards you. "Understand that you have been lying to me this entire time, understand you hired your goons to kidnap Lucky to lure me in."

"That wasn't me I would never put you or Lucky in danger and you know that." You corrected her jabbing a finger at her. Anger crept into your voice as it became harder to keep the emotion at bay. Yet you couldn't help but be bothered at how easy it was for Kate to see nothing but the worst in you. Then again maybe you were foolish to put your faith in the girl who called the cops on her own mother without hearing her side of the story first.

Maybe you should just be grateful Kate was granting you that courtesy.

"Really because I can't tell y/n what do you think you're doing right now" Kate cried.

"I'm trying to tell you the truth but you won't listen."

"Oh please go on tell me the truth. Explain to me why you are working for a criminal like Wilson Fisk."

"I didn't have a choice Kate okay. It was either clean up the Tracksuits mess, or he was going to come after you. I did it to keep you safe and get him off my back for good."

Kate frowned and if it was even possible the feeling of betrayal increased tenfold. "What do you mean for good? How long have you been working with him?"

"I told on the joyride to find Lucky remember. I was born into this Katie I never really a choice. It was only because of my brother Wilson didn't come knocking on my door sooner."

"This is a family legacy type of thing there was no helping me." Kate was replaying every single word from the previous conservation she held with you. Back when you were just a stranger she low-key felt sorry for. All of those words held new meaning to her now. The two of you had grown up together sharing every little dirty secret with each other. She was supposed to know you better than anyone in her life, but just like her parents there was a dark side to you. She knew nothing about till now.

"Where is your brother now? Why did he stop protecting you?" She asked with venom in her voice. Of course she was projecting the blame on him now. Kate was spiraling trying to make sense of all this, and some way to justify your actions in her eyes.

"Kazi is dead" You told her with no emotion. Knowing the revelation would hurt her even more considering she knew your brother after facing off with him more than a few times.

Kate tried to keep her reaction in check and give nothing away, but her mouth opened for just a fraction of a second. Before closing as no words came to mind she knew Kazi had died during the showdown between her and Clint, but only because the Avenger was the one who told her.

Clint had discovered his dead body while trying to round up all the bad guys to make sure. The cops put all of them behind bars where they belonged. He didn't tell her rather or not it was one a misplaced or arrow that had killed him, or something else. She always believed Fisk had doubled back to punish his second in command for failing him, but now she know the crime lord still had use of him. Kate was on the verge of hyperventilate at the thought that her or Clint had caused your brother's death. When you spoke up again easing her mind.

"Maya killed him in self-defense he wanted her dead so he could take over the Tracksuits. She was supposed to die the same night her father and mine's did." You reassured her stepping off the ledge wanting nothing more than to go to her.

"Wait your dad died in a car accident" Kate whispered sounding unsure. She didn't what to believe now.

You shook your head. "That's what I told you to and how it was setup to look like. But Kazi orchestrated those hits on the behalf of Wilson Fisk."

"Y/N' she breathed your name with sympathetic eyes. The night she had came to you crying about putting her mother away. You were grieving the death of your brother.

"Its okay Kate I came to terms with Kazi's death years before it happened. I knew this life would put him in the grave sooner than later. Why do you think I spent most of my teenage years begging him to leave it behind with me?"

"Why didn't he?"

"He was sucked into all of this from day one and no matter what it costed him. Kazi believed this was a legacy worth fighting and dying more. I knew it was a curse the day it took our mother away from me." You said with a faraway look in your eyes. The memory forced its way from the deep dark depths of your subconscious fighting to the surface.

It had been years since you thought about that night when ten-year old you was lying in the bed fast asleep. Until a crash in the living room pulled you from your peaceful slumber.

The sound of breaking glass was followed by your mother's cries of pain mixed in with pleas for her children to be spared. You could make out a few words with the side of your face pressed to the door. Frozen in fear waiting for your big brother or father to come to rescue, in the moment you hadn't yet realized. All of this was happening to the later, and eventually Kazi did burst from his room with a baseball bat in hand.

You heard the sickening crunch of the aluminum bat connecting with a goon's knee knocking out of place. The man let out a cry of pain dropping to the floor to clutch his knee. Before you knew what you were doing adrenaline took over, and you yanked your door opened to rush onto the scene.

Another goon was too busy trying to wrestle the bat away from Kazi who held onto it for dear life. A bigger guy stood in the living room doorway with a shape so big. It blocked out the moonlight trying to peek through from the windows behind him. His focus was solely on your mother who was kneeling before him with her hands folded out in front of her.

No one seemed to notice your arrival till you grabbed the gun that fell from the crippled goon's hands. You pulled back on the mechanism just like your dad taught you reloading it. Everyone's eyes snapped in your direction as you trained the gun on the big man. Unable to make out his face hidden by his over-the-top hat, and the shadows of the night.

"Leave my mommy and brother alone" You ordered keeping the gun steady.

The other goon released his hold on the bat causing your brother to stumble back into the table. He recovered fast enough to put himself between you and the goon. When the man pulled a gun from his waistband to aim it at your head.

"Boss say the word and I'll light the little brats up" came the man's gruff voice.

"No" your mother shrieked pushing herself to her feet to run over throwing her arms around. Both of you into her tight and protective embrace. "Not them Fisk please you can take me but leave them be. I'll make them behave."

The big man named Fisk tilted his head to the side letting out a hmph sound. The goon's finger trembled on the trigger ready to pull it, and bring an end to all this.

"Leave the children be and bring the mother. We shall make an example out of her" Fisk ordered his man. His voice calm and unwavering despite the intensity of the situation. He talked like this was just another business meeting, and he hadn't come here to destroy a family tonight.

Kazi fought his way out of his mother's grip and tried to shield her away from the goon. But the bigger man just slammed the butt of his gun into his head. Your big brother froze for just a second as his body locked up, and the bat slipped from his fingers. A second later he toppled over onto the floor.

"Kazi" you cried attempting to raise the gun still in your grip again. But your mother forced your hands back down and brought a hand to caress your cheek.

"Babygirl I need you to put this down. Can you do that for me?" she asked softly.

You were able to make out her soft features, and the tears glistening her face. "Mom please don't go with them" you whispered covering her hand with yours.

"I have too sweetheart but its going to be okay. They're only taking me to your father. I promise it'll be okay but you have to stop fighting" she tried again.

Your mother never broke a promise so you didn't hesitate in tossing the gun aside. She told you to stay with Kazi and pressed lingering kisses all over both of your faces. Then you watched as she was escorted from the house by the abled goon and the crippled one limped his way out. Fisk was the last to leave the house throwing one last glance at you and Kazi.

It would be the last time you saw your mother alive.

"I know you thought my mom died of a sudden heart attack." You whispered as Kate regarded you with a mixture of pity and pain.

"Did my mom know about this?" She mustered up the courage to ask after a moment of silence.

You nodded. "Its why she was always so welcoming to me. She knew I wanted nothing to do with this life, and tried to give me a little bit of normalcy by hanging out with you all the time."

Kate found herself unable to be angry with all the secrets being brought to the light. Even though she had every right to be after all you knew a good portion of her life had been a lie, and you played a part in maintaining the lies. But then again her mother probably hadn't given you much of a choice. In the matter she wanted to ask but was afraid to her more.

"My father failed and my mother paid with her life. My brother failed and the torch was passed onto me."

"I get why you kept all this from me when we were kids y/n-"

You let out a premature sigh of relief believing this argument was over. She understood your reasons and didn't hate you. Until Kate threw out a hand stopping you from hugging her as you approached her.

"But we're not kids anymore and I'm not a child who needed you to protect me from the boogeyman. I'm an Avenger now who took down Fisk last year. You should've came to me for help instead of doing his dirty work. You're no better than my mom."

It was too much especially the her last comment. You exploded unable to hold back anymore.

"Are fucking serious right now? After everything I just told you how can you still believe any of this was a choice. You know what Katie you are a child" You shouted knocking her hand away.

"I'm a child" Kate repeated your words with a scoff. Although you could hear the agony in her voice that she was trying so hard to mask. It broke your heart to be the one causing it, but you went on.

"Yes Katie I don't care what you did last year Fisk could've snapped your neck in a blink of an eye. If he wanted too but he needed your mom's money. Fisk has been put behind bars twice, and he managed to manipulate his way out both times. Maya put a bullet in his head and somehow he's still standing. What do you think you can do that hasn't been done?"

"I would've figured something out" Kate argued.

"And your plan would've failed Kate the only way out for me was too give him what he wants. It was just a few jobs here and there no one even got hurt." You told her.

"Fisk is still a bad guy y/n who killed your mom, and was willing to kill mine. How can you defend him?"

"I'm not defending him. I'm trying to make you understand I couldn't lose anyone else to him especially you. Kate I fucking love you, and I'll burn down this entire city to keep you alive. Not a day goes by where I don't wish I didn't put an end to him that night he came for my mother.

"Y/N" Kate murmured your name finally letting herself reach out to grip your chin. Lifting your head to making you look in soft blue eyes which were filled with tears.

"I told Yelena you wouldn't get it because in your world everything is black and white. There's no room for a gray area."

"Yelena knew about you" she said raising an eyebrow. The gears in her head started to turn, and there was nothing you could do to come back from it. The little moment of peace was over as Kate frowned.

"Is she the reason we're even having this conservation?"

"She was going to tell you if I didn't come clean on my own" You confessed.

"So you were going to continue to run around and do Fisk's dirty work."

"I only have one job left."

Kate released her grip on your chin to clench her fists. "Have? You're still going to finish the job."

"Do you have a better idea?" You shot back matching her tone of anger.

"You're lucky I haven't called the cops yet" she blurted out turning around to put her back to you.

"Locking me up the way you did your mom" You said looking away.

"You told me that was the right call or did your forget?" she yelled whirling back around.

"I told you what you needed to hear Kate but you were wrong. Your mother wasn't the bad guy. If anybody was it was your father who died and left behind a trail of mistakes. Eleanor did her to clean up his mess and keep you safe."

"So what does that make me then?"

"A blinded hero" You answered.

Kate didn't reply right away dropping into a crouch with her hands tangled in her hair. Turmoil on her face as she tried to process your words while working double time to keep. The guilty thoughts away as you unlocked a door she closed a long time ago.

You contemplated making a run for it while Kate was stuck in her own head. But no part of you wanted to leave things like this between the two of you. You wanted clarity on where your relationship with her stood.

The silence was deafening as both of you waited for the other to say something, but neither of you knew what to say because thing were so broken. It was beyond repair and Kate couldn't deal with that right now. While you wanted to believe all of this was still salvageable.

"You have ten seconds."

You had been staring up the night sky counting the stars to pass time when she spoke, so her words didn't register with you right away. "What?"

"You got ten seconds to get out of my sight and I never want to see you again." Kate said with a bit more force this time. Her eyes wouldn't meet yours.

"What about us" You implored.

"I can't be with you anymore y/n not after this. I'm letting you go that's enough alright so just go please" Kate replied. There it was again agony in her voice but this time she didn't try to mask it.

"Katie please you're my light okay. I need you in my life" You begged covering the distance between the two of you with one stride. You placed both of your hands on either side of her face.

"Y/N no stop calling me that" Kate protested attempting to pull away. Until a arm was secured around her waist and then your lips were on hers in a breathtaking kiss. You poured all of your emotions, all the desperation, and pain into it. You needed her to understand and her lips molded with yours like the perfect fit they were. The two of you were meant to be for better or worse. Hero and villain, good and bad, light and darkness. Nothing was supposed to be able to come between the two of you. She had promised you that herself, and you wasn't going to let Wilson Fisk cost you another promise.

Kate finally gathered up the will to shove you away so hard you fell back on the ground. Her bow was back in her hand in a flash, and before you knew. She had an arrow notched trained right at your heart. "And you were the one person in my life who I thought wasn't broken and messed up. But it turns out it was all a lie."

Her words torn through you, and ripped your heart to shreds. You got back to your feet holding back sobs. But the tears fell again as you had lost count just how much crying was done tonight. Your hand move to your collarbone where the arrow with the heart charm rested. "Wow would you look at that foreshadowing."

You yanked the necklace off and threw it to her feet. "Gooddbye Kate." Those were your last words and you turned around to breakout into a swift run. Leaping from the ledge of the apartment building to the next one. Kate watched as you disappeared into the night taking her heart with you.

Not knowing you left yours behind with her.

A Week Later

Wilson blew up your phone with numerous of calls and text messages in the following days. He sent a few men over to the apartment you use to share with Kate, but they never made it. You intercepted them every single of time, and put an end to their lives. Until he finally got the message to stop sending them on the fourth time. When none of his guys returned back to him to report.

He resorted back to threatening calls which were ignored as you were busy plotting revenge.

"Please please I give don't" the robber pleaded holding up his arm. You dropped to one knee moving his hand aside to sock him in the nose. He groaned in pain as his head bounced off the concrete ground.

Your fist was drawn back for another shot when a baton attached to a metal wire wrapped around wrist and tightened. Till the point your hand went numb with blood circulation cut off. The person on the other end gave tugged hard pulling you away from the beaten and battered robber.

"You are one hard dude to find you know. I've been trying to get your attention for days."

You twisted your around as your body was dragged backwards deeper into the alley. Your legs were extended out catching your assailant in the chest. He absorbed the kick with ease due to his armored suit.

"So you beat a bunch of street thugs within an inch of their life"said the mysterious man. His identity concealed under a yellow horned mask, but strangely enough it was only covered the top half of his face.

"You got an update on the suit I see it doesn't really go with the whole Devil of Hell's Kitchen title." You commented observing his suit for every little detail.

"I go by Daredevil now" he said with a shrug.

"That's catchy and less of a mouthful I guess."

He began to unwrap the wire from around your wrist and once you were free. The baton snapped back into place with the other end. "What do you want with me?"

"Your help you and I share a common enemy. The name Wilson Fisk ring any bells?" You asked ready to judge his reaction.

He hid his facial expressions well but his body tensed up at the sound of his number one nemesis's name. "I actually do my best too stay off his radar these days. He's not my concern anymore."

You nodded in understanding. "I would back off too if a man like that uncovered my secret identity, but what happens you should know better. Matthew because believe Fisk still keeps tab on you and your friends. Foggy Nelson and Kare-"

Matthew Murdock didn't give you the chance to finish your sentence before bone-rushing you. Slamming your body into the brick wall pressing the side of your face with vicious intent.

"Keep her name out your mouth" he sneered right in your ear. He was so close you could feel his breath on your neck.

"Who are you?" He growled.

"Someone who wants Fisk dead just as much as you did a few years back, but unlike you I intend on going through with it." You said through gritted teeth.

"What does that have to do with me? I wasn't going to stand in your way."

"I know but others might and I need help keeping them off might back."

"Why would I do that? Its not my style" Matt argued but he stepped back letting you turn around to face him.

"Because you're tired of walking eggshells around your home careful not to step on his toes, and bring upon his wrath again. You want to go the bed at night without looking over your shoulder or your loved ones's."

Matthew reached up to pull his mask off revealing his entire face to you. His dark hair was a mess and his eyes were guarded. "What did Fisk take away from you."

Tag List: @danveration @yelenabelovasgf @xxromanoffxx @xxxtwilightaxelxxx @natashasilverfox @catswag22 @be-missed @lizlil @acutenobody @kacka84 @supercorpdanbeau @itbeila @jimicantaffordtherapy @screechcat

"Everything so I got nothing else to lose so what do you say? Think you can go back to being the Devil of Hell's Kitchen for one more night."

[novasjaneway]

Thinking about what must have happened between janeway and seven after the admiral left. Thinking about it hard bc these are two people who have fallen in love with each other and have had their eyes ripped opened by the admirals knowledge of future events between them, which pretty much makes them have to look at their feelings for each other in the present and it's scary for both of them for different reasons. Thinking hard about that bc I don't believe either of them would be content to let each other go after finding out it happened in another timeline. Kinda gives new thoughts to janeways words to seven "I'm not leaving without you." I don't think she wants to do anything without seven.

I can't help but call back to memory how they sort of acknowledged their feelings for each other after the time they spent together in unimatrix.

Jealousy, desire, love, yearning. All these feelings seemed to bounce between them as they talked in sick bay. How alot of what happened between them was text and subtext and how in that moment, it seemed that they were able to look at each other and feel their mutual love and attraction to one another. And they were cautious. They were curious. With those feelings now open amd exposed between them, they didn't have alot of time to look more closely before the admiral shows up and sheds light on situations of the future that neither saw coming. It's pretty jarring. For both. From that perspective, theyre both still processing the rawness of their emotions as well as if a relationship could even be pursued given their circumstances. I just can't help but think about how maybe they recall unimatrix after the admiral leaves. Maybe it's a good time to take a harder look and i wonder how much janeway has a hand in this bc the reality of actually being back on earth opens the door for possibilities between her and seven that she was unwilling to look at while on voyager.

And all these thoughts coexisting with the other thoughts in my head of how these two have already established themselves in a relationship, but neither of them have taken the time to define what it is and what their future looks like, not bc its not important to them but bc they just sort of organically came together it's the delta quadrant and time seems to stretch ahead like nothing else matters, but they do love each other, they know that much, or at least, they have made it clear that they are willing to risk their lives for each other, they may not label it as being in love at this point, but the implications of their commitment to each are apparent and their actions say alot. Seven is still figuring these emotions out and janeway is right beside her, from this standpoint, they arent sexual with each other but there is so much tension and this is mostly bc janeway is so respectful of sevens individual growth and her sensitivity to everything new. Combine that with the idea that on the other hand, there is so much ambiguity between them which explains the tension bc they have already begun a sexual relationship and are enjoying the closeness they share while keeping it out of the limelight. Well whatever the case may be, here comes the admiral with new disturbing information and far away earth is right around the corner. What then? What now janeway? What now seven?! Omg!?

[goodstuffexe]

Ughhhh I wish the Atla adaptation had more episodes, such a waste damn. Am currently at episode five and baffled at how many episode plots and characters they crammed into 3 & 4. This show and Hazbin Hotel badly needed more than 8, such a hustle. I get that the original had literally 20 episodes in season one and did meander a bit at times but especially Aang needed the development and it just added to the vibe of the show. They gave the time and moments these characters needed to progress and come into their arcs. I like what moments Sokka and Katara get and I also think the relationship between Iroh and Zuko is well done for the most part but Aang is lacking imo, something just feels kinda off about the kid and idk if it is the acting (tho no hate to Gordon Cormier, there are definitely also moments where he captures Aangs character really well) the dialog or the feared lack of Aangs positivity, or maybe all things combined. But I am still not done with the season so, let's keep watching.

spoilers for ep 5 below the cut

Also I am no fan of Sokka and Katara just roaming through the Spirit World with Aang, doesn't that undermine his connection to the spirit world as the avatar!?

So WHY was Wan Shi Tong there in a random forest lol. They spoiled the most creepy spirit in the whole show. Big nono

I rly like Azula's scenes they set her personality and mindset up well in the few moments she has with Ozai. I heard the last few episodes are better structured, so am excited for them

Also here is my live reaction to the rest of the episode haha:

- WOOW Hei Bai looks frikkin cool damn, I am actually pleasantly surprised with the animation.

- Omg the scenes with Katara and Sokka and their parents?!! My poor babies🥺 I might have shed a tear when I saw Sokka cry :')

- They showed the face stealer spirit too? (Cannot remember da name sorry) Damnnn that is kinda cringe, did they just trash the whole 'show emotions and I will take your face'-thing?

- WHY IS GYATSO THERE HUH and he is no illusion what

- Soo he's gonna make the drive-by to the Fire Nation by glider now? Lol

- Ooooh it's the transition to the masked spirit episode with Zhao okay I get it

-Ayayay they did mangle some past avatar stuff around, why was the reason for Aang to go to the Fire Temple and speak with Roku not adapted? He is such an important character as early as this. I bet he gets the info about the comet anyway lol (or maybe not and they really removed any trace of it in the first season like some stated in interviews)

I mean it's not that hard to shove the comet back a few years/months like they said they would, because the actors are gonna age with the show and STILL have Roku be the one who tells Aang now, right. Right?

Anyway my thoughts are all over the place, I will see tomorrow yaay

[that-sw-writer]

If you’re taking requests, hear me out...

Kylo x reader

Disney princess Mulan style. Reader is in the knights of Ren but no one knows she’s a girl! Kylo is the first to find out maybe by walking in on her changing or something idk whatever you think would be the best. I thought of this after reading intoxicated which both parts were awesome by the way!!

I’m so sorry that you’ve waited about a century for me to finish this... but I tried to make up for that by including a zesty meme to go with this lmao

Also I’m glad you enjoyed intoxicated, it’s literally one of my favourite things I’ve ever written!! I hope this one shot is what you had in mind!

MASTERLIST

Paring: Female Knight of Ren!Reader/Kylo Ren (Mulan inspired)

Word count: 4582

Warnings: mentions sex and kylo ren is briefly a bit of a dick

(context for the dank meme will be provided when you read)

I’ll Make a Man Out of You

You were struggling today, more than most months. Usually you managed to get through stomach cramps with a few painkillers, but today you were practically keeling over, and it hadn't escaped the notice of the other Knights of Ren.

"Nuren? You okay?" Kuruk had asked you in the midst of sparring, noticing that your movements were sloppy as you tried to ignore the crippling pain in your stomach.

"Yeah, I'm just feeling a bit under the weather." You tried to play it off, your voice coming off modulated due to your helmet. You were the only knight who always wore their helmet, the others took theirs off to socialise but you had to keep your secret safe, so you had told them from day one that you had taken an oath to never allow any sentient being to see your face, something you knew was common amongst the Mandalorian clans.

It was a solitary life, lying every day to the people whom you cared about more than anyone else, but you were in too deep to tell them to truth now. There had never been a woman amongst the Knights of Ren, and that wasn't likely to change - at least, not as far as anyone knew. You would just continue to miss out on drinking and eating with your brothers, being forced to sit in the corner and try your best to join in with their merriment.

Even your leader, Kylo Ren, had no idea of the truth. For years now you had concealed your gender from them, but you had never intended for it to go this far. You had joined the knights when they had come to your homestead seeking your brother, who was Force sensitive. He hid when they had shown up and you sent the knights on a cold trail to look for him, but after they left you had considered things. You were desperate for an escape and for adventure, plus you were also Force sensitive, so you had decided to drop everything and chase after them in place of your brother. You had concealed your identity by donning simple armour, which was soon replaced once they had taken you on board.

You took on the name Nuren, which meant 'woman' in your planet's dialect - hidden in plain sight, and you had never looked back. Sure, nothing about it was easy, but you wouldn't dare quit, you quickly found yourself enjoying the training, missions and most importantly: the brotherhood.

"Perhaps we should call it a day." Kylo raised his hand to stop the sparring, his gaze unsurprisingly fixated on you. "Nuren, go to the med-bay if you need to." Despite being a terrifying Supreme Leader to most, Kylo Ren cared about his knights, although little did he know that you had just gotten your period - there was nothing seriously wrong with you.

Over the years you had learnt a lot about concealing your emotions, particularly those where Master Ren was concerned. There were thousands of people in the galaxy whom you could have fallen for, but you had to choose to fall for Kylo Ren - the one man you could never have, for more reason than one. Most obviously: he thought you were a man who could under no circumstances remove his helmet in front of other people. But aside from that, even if he did know the truth, how could it ever work? You were one of his knights. Although admittedly, you had spent a lot of time alone at night dreaming that it could work.

"That's okay Master Ren, I think I just need to rest." You stood tall as you spoke to him, despite the sharp pain that was still twisting your stomach.

"Very well." He nodded, dismissing you all, but you could see the look of concern still on his face.  Curse these cramps for ruining training for you.

You retired alongside your brothers after that, still trying to ignore just how much pain you were in, but they were unsurprisingly teasing you about it.

"One little stomach ache takes Nuren down? This is the same guy I once saw singlehandedly take on a Nightsister right?" Cardo gave you a bolshy nudge and the others all laughed.

"He's right, I knew the food they served up on this base was crap, by I didn't realise it was that crap." Trudgen then jested, and you laughed along with them, knowing that this was just how they behaved.

"You think I eat that shit?" You snorted as you all made your way back to your shared common area.

There was a large communal area where the knights all socialised together and attached were seven bedrooms, each sealed behind private blast doors.

"Since we're done for the day, who fancies a drink?" Ap'lek asked the moment you all stepped foot inside, moving over to produce multiple bottles of beer from the fridge.

The others all mumbled in agreement, moving to take off their helmets and make themselves comfortable. Despite knowing that you would decline, the knights never failed to ask you to join them and they had no idea how much that simple gesture meant to you, let alone how much you wanted to accept it.

"How about it Nuren? Nothing like alcohol to cure sickness." Ushar grinned, but you reluctantly shook your head.

"I think I might just turn in and take a nap." You said, your brothers all bidding you farewell before you disappeared behind the doors that lead to your quarters.

As soon as you were alone, you shed yourself of the heavy helmet, as well as the outer layers of your armour. Carrying around that much weight on your body whilst on your period should have been a crime.

Rather than collapsing onto the bed, you moved to dig through your drawers where you had a stash of painkillers hidden for these exact moments - hopefully they would at least give you a few pain-free hours so you could spend some time with the other knights before they got too drunk.

Swallowing down the pill, you knew it would take some time to kick in so you opted to soak in a warm bath until them, that usually helped. From your refresher you could vaguely hear the others all laughing and having fun together. It pained you more and more every day have to be such an outsider, but you feared that if you revealed the truth to them they would never accept you.

You tried not to let your thoughts dwell on negative things whilst you bathed, but it was hard not to. You had everything you ever wanted - but you didn't have it, as far as anyone else was aware your brother was the one living this dream. Could you really go on like this forever? The answer was: yes. You had no choice, you would die with your secret one day.

You eventually left the refresher, a towel wrapped securely around your body. Thankfully, this time your painkillers were actually working, so with any luck you'd be able to join your brothers and simply watch them drink and wish you could join in - just as you always did.

When you pulled on your undergarments you wrapped tight bandaging around your chest to flatten it. It was beyond painful to wear every day, but definitely easier than explaining why you had breasts...

You tugged on your slightly baggy trousers, and your even baggier undershirt. You found that clothes with less shape worked better. However, before you could sweep your hair back into a clean bun and put your helmet on, you heard the blast doors to your room open.

The knights knew to never walk into each other's private quarters unannounced, and there was surely only one other person who could possibly be in the knights' common area.  But why would he be in here?

"I wanted to check that you're okay-" Kylo began, clearly not focusing as he entered.  But when his voice trailed off you knew that he had laid eyes on you.

With your heart in your mouth, you slowly turned around to confirm your worst nightmare. Kylo Ren stood staring at you, his mouth slightly agape. Clearly he hadn't known what to expect, but this was far beyond the parameters of his imagination.

"I can explain-" you quietly said, your voice coming out as nothing but a mere whisper. Your heart was beating so fast it felt like it was going to burst out of your chest.

Clearly just as unsure how to process what he had seen as you were, he simply turned on his heel and fled the room, quickly marching out of the knights' common area altogether.

There was no time for you to panic, you forced yourself to take a deep breath, pulled your helmet on and took off after him, still only wearing your under-layers. As you dashed out, your brothers paid you little mind, they were too caught up in their conversation to notice the commotion.

"Master Ren, wait." You called to him as he was striding ahead of you.

In one sharp motion he turned to you, pushing you against the wall, his gloved hand clasped around your neck where he could see wisps of hair falling out from beneath your helmet.

"I want you to leave this base, and pray that I never see you again." He was cutting off your airwaves, but nevertheless you still attempted to choke out.

"M-Master Ren, please. I-I had to lie." You tried to explain, your voice coming out as a  strained croak.

"And now you have to leave." He hissed, the betrayal in his tone was clear. Without another word he released you and went storming off down the corridor again.

You had no idea what to do, or who to turn to. Perhaps it was just best to heed Kylo's warning and leave. You feared that if Kylo's reaction had been nothing short of death threats, you would be met with a very similar reaction from your fellow knights, but part of you also thought that they deserved to know the truth before you abandoned them.

Besides, now you had nothing left to lose.

When you arrived back in the common area, the knights were all lost in their merriment. Clearly a few drinks down, you could tell they were slightly tipsy, although perhaps that would make this easier.

"I need to tell you something." You planted yourself in the middle of the room, and were immediately met by jeering, something you would've normally embraced and enjoyed, but now your reaction was stone cold.

"Hopefully you're telling us that you're ready to have some fun!" Cardo bellowed, "c'mon Nuren, loosen up a bit."

"No." You grumbled, "I wish I could." Before you open yourself up to more teasing, you reached up and unlatched your helmet, silently revealing the truth to the knights. "You came to my planet looking for my brother, but you got me instead." You quietly explained, dreading the reactions that were to come.

It was so silent that you could hear a pin drop, and part of you feared that they would kill you on the spot for lying to them. Slowly, your brothers rose to their feet, seemingly sobering up in that moment.

"So for all these years, you've been pretending to be your brother?" Ushar asked, his voice level, so much so that you couldn't read his emotions.

"Yes." You hung your head in guilt.

The ominous silence fell once more, and you couldn't bear it any longer. However, as you opened your mouth to speak, a stifled laugh broke through the crippling silence.

You whipped around and saw Kuruk with a hand covering his mouth. "Sorry it's just-" before he could finish there were more uncontrollable laughs escaping his lips. Clearly this laughter was contagious, because before you knew it it was spreading throughout the room.

"I-I can't believe you said you had taken an oath t-to not take the helmet off!" Ap'lek struggled to get his words out through the laughter, "a kriffing oath!" He exclaimed, leaning on Vicrul who was beside him, as they tried to regain their composure.

"This... is really not the reaction I was expecting." Entirely unsure of what to do, you just stood and stared at them all as they continued to crease in fits of laughter. But after a few moments you found yourself unable to avoid the contagious laughter, but you of all people really had no clue what you found so funny.

You were all in stitches for another few minutes before it died down, and despite the circumstances the laughter made you feel as though some of the weight had been lifted off your shoulders. Knowing that your fellow knights weren't angry at you was a much needed relief.

"So why not tell us the truth?" Vicrul eventually asked once they could form coherent sentences.

"The Knights of Ren was no place for a woman." You sighed, throwing yourself down on the couch with your head in your hands, "I wish I had told you earlier, but I always thought you'd be angry - I really didn't expect the laughing fit."

"C'mon Nuren, you should have known us better than that. No matter what, we're brothers... well, now you're our first sister." Ushar chuckled, giving you a solid pat on the back.

As the others echoed his sentiment, you appreciated more than anything that they weren't treating you any differently just because of your gender. There was still that sense of familiarity, and the brotherhood... it was just a shame you couldn't stay.

"So why tell us now?" Ap'lek eventually asked.

"Master Ren-" your tone immediately became more downcast as you remembered the gravity of the situation, "he found out the truth, and he told me to leave. I thought before I go I at least owed you all the truth."

Glances were exchanged, before Cardo spoke up, "no, we won't let you leave."

Your heart nearly burst out of your chest at the gesture, but you couldn't allow yourself to fall into that safety blanket. "Master Ren will have my head if I stay. I betrayed him, and you all know how he responds to betrayal."

"But you forget Nuren, you're a Knight of Ren, and we never leave a brother behind." Trudgen said. "...Or a sister." He then hastened to add.

><><><><><><><><><><><

It had only been a week since everyone had found out the truth. Whilst your fellow knights actually gotten on better with you now that you could drink and socialise with them, the same could not be said for Kylo Ren.

Firstly, he was less than happy about being undermined when it came to you leaving the base. Now you were a constant reminder of his own empty threat. But more importantly, what you didn't realise was that he wanted you gone more than ever because he was developing an inexplicable attraction to you. The worst part was, it wasn't just physical. Whilst he would sit moping in the corner he could see the way you were around the other knights - they clearly adored you, and the fact that a female presence was actually having a positive effect on the group made it even harder for Ren to despise you. He saw the way you could light up a room, and he couldn't help but want you. He was angry for allowing himself to feel such a way, and that unfortunately manifested itself as anger towards you.

The other knights, meanwhile, couldn't possibly look at you in such a way. Perhaps had they met you for the first time as strangers, they would have relentlessly flirted with you as they did so many other women. But you had all spent too much time together in too many awkward situations to ever see each other as more than adopted-siblings.

You were so relieved to finally be able to relax around the knights, but there was always that tension whenever you were around Master Ren. You had been desperately trying to prove yourself to him to show him that you were the same knight you had always been, regardless of your gender - although deep down you knew that it had nothing to do with the fact you were a woman, it was the fact that you had lied to him...

Although for Kylo it was none of these. He knew he had overreacted when he'd first found out the truth, and now he was relieved that the other knights had vouched for you and made him change his mind and let you stay.

You were all sat in the common area, your legs casually thrown over Trudgen's lap for comfort. You each had a drink in hand, as was standard practise for you all on evenings when you had nothing else to do.

"I seriously don't think I can go much longer putting up with him constantly glaring at me." You scoffed, discussing Kylo's apparent hatred of you.

"Sure he used to do that, but now I don't think he's glaring... I don't know, I'm just not getting the same angry energy off him that I was last week." Ap'lek pondered, shrugging his shoulders.

"What do you mean?" Your brow furrowed, but Kuruk was quick to catch on.

"No, Ap'lek's right. He's not glaring, he's staring." He playfully smacked his forehead, "I can't believe we didn't spot it sooner."

"Holy shit, you're right." Vicrul was next to chime in.

You all had a low-level bond through the Force, so you knew pretty much what they were thinking, but that didn't mean you agreed with them.

"Oh come on, Master Ren won't even talk to me anymore and you think that means he likes me? He literally had his hand around my throat a week ago." You snorted, rolling your eyes.

"Yeah, well maybe you enjoyed that." Trudgen teased you from the other side of the sofa, suggestively wiggling his eyebrows, but you swiftly threw a cushion at his face to shut him up.

"It makes so much sense the more I think about it." Ap'lek laughed, shaking his head, "he won't talk to you because he doesn't know how to process emotions. Come on Nuren, when have you ever seen him flirt, or even be nice to a woman?"

Before you could reply, Vicrul summarised it, "it's because he doesn't know how!" At that they all hollered and nudged each other in agreement.

"You're all out of your minds," you laughed, "he wants me dead, not-" before you could finish your sentence with a crude joke, the blast doors flew open to reveal the man himself, and you immediately all fell silent.

It wasn't necessarily unusual for him to come and join you all in your living area, but he hadn't done so since he found out the truth about you. Not to mention, he had picked an awful moment to enter.

"What? You all look like someone's died." He huffed, helping himself to a drink before moving to sit down.

You meanwhile did the opposite and removed your legs from Trudgen's lap and stood up, retiring to your quarters without another word. You didn't particularly want to put up with his glaring, or 'staring' as the knights had now deemed it.

There was nothing to do in your quarters, and you immediately realised that you had just stormed off and now were stuck, so you made a point of dressing in some simple training clothes and heading back out to walk through the common area with your helmet in hand. You pulled it over your head before leaving the rest of the knights alone with Kylo and went off to your training area to run some drills alone.

In your absence, and after their apparent revelation, the other knights decided that that it was time to address the elephant in the room with Kylo.

"Master Ren, you know Nuren thinks that you hate her, right?" Ushar said, to which Kylo just tried to play it off with a nonchalant shrug.

"I don't hate her." He said, his tone not wavering. He certainly didn't want any of them finding out the truth behind his cold behaviour.

"Trust me, we know that." He replied, in a very pointed tone which made it clear that they had worked out the truth about Kylo's feelings, "but she doesn't know that." He then added.

He clearly wanted to protest, but it was obvious that the knights could see right through him and his nonchalance.

They simply all stared at him, expectantly, until eventually Kylo exhaled a heavy sigh, taking a long drink before speaking again. "Fine, I get the point." He rose to his feet, "I'll go and talk to her." He reluctantly agreed to do what he had been dreading. He had no idea how to process any emotion that wasn't anger.

As soon as he left, the knights began discussing every possible outcome. Little did you know that they had practically planned your wedding, since they had decided that not only would you be good for Kylo, he would be good for you.

Blissfully unaware of everything that had just happened, you were alone in the training room swinging a blunt training weapon against a dummy, who was taking the brunt of your frustration. You had left your helmet by the door.

When the blast doors opened to reveal a sheepish looking Kylo Ren, you were less than happy - and it was written all over your face. Nevertheless, you stood to attention.

"Master Ren." You nodded, "I thought you were with the others." You desperately wanted to replicate his bad attitude and make a cutting remark, but you knew that simply wouldn't help your case. No matter what, you had to show respect to your leader.

"I came to talk to you." He said, his tone coming out much darker than intended.

"With all due respect Sir, if you want me to leave that badly, it's the other knights you need to talk to - they're the reason why I'm still here." You relaxed your stance and went back to swinging at the dummy as you spoke.

"That's not it." He said, walking around to stand behind the dummy so he was in your eye-line, "I'm glad you're still here." He eventually admitted, practically through gritted teeth. Every muscle in his body had stiffened.

You stepped back from your training, brow furrowed, "you are?" You hated the way your heart rate increased at his words. Through it all, you still couldn't deny your own attraction to Kylo Ren, perhaps that was why his cold attitude had been so hurtful to you.

"Yes." He plainly said, having no inclination of what else he could possibly say.

"Then why are you acting so off with me?" You hesitantly asked, at which point he looked down at his feet. This had been the question he was hoping you wouldn't ask, because he was afraid to answer it.

"I-" he began, before sealing his lips again. Whatever words he wanted to say simply wouldn't form in his mouth. He was truly tongue-tied, but thankfully his body decided that it was ready to move again - actions did tend to speak louder than words.

Boldly, he moved towards you and captured your lips in a heated kiss, pouring all the words he couldn't say into this gesture.

You were stunned to say the least, your training weapon falling to the floor. But it wasn't long before your lips responded and returned the kiss. Kylo's arms wrapped around your waist and pulled you flush against him, your hands resting on his chest.

However, it didn't take long for your brain to catch up and you briefly pulled away from his lips for long enough to speak. "So you... like me, like me, and you tried to show me that by being miserable around me?" You asked him, just needing to clarify his odd behaviour.

Suddenly feeling much looser now that he had made a move, he responded with a smirk, "did it work?" He teased.

"Not so much, I think you perhaps need to try being less of an asshole in future Master Ren." You responded with a snarky remark, knowing that you could definitely get away with teasing him now.

"I think from now on, just Kylo is fine." He exhaled a short laugh and leaned back in to kiss you.

It wasn't long before you either had to break away, or have sex right there in the training room and you both silently agreed that the latter wasn't really a practical option.

"Your quarters?"  You prompted, still tangled in his arms.  Really this whole scenario still felt surreal to you.  You had crushed on Kylo Ren for longer than you cared to admit, then when he had found out the truth about your gender he had reacted less than favourably... and now suddenly here you were.  Only he could react to developing feels for you by acting as though he hated you.

His face dropped and he grimaced slightly, "we-uh, we can't."  He sheepishly explained.

"Why not?"  Your brow furrowed, immediately thinking that taking him back to your quarters would be quite an embarrassing affair with all of the other knights being in the common area.

"There are technicians in there repairing Lightsaber damage."  He said it casually, but you could read between the lines well enough to know that 'Lightsaber damage' meant that he'd had a tantrum and trashed his own quarters.

"Are you brave enough to come to my quarters?"  You smirked up at him with an eyebrow raised.

"I think you're overestimating how much they'll care."  He said, and you definitely couldn't fault his optimism, but you knew that the knights most certainly would care.

With the steamy moment beginning to waste away you hastily walked side by side back to the Knights of Ren's common area.  You had your helmet on again as you walked, but as soon as you entered you removed it, and it still felt surreal that you now had that freedom.

"Nuren, is that you?"  Kuruk's voice was the first to call out, none of them turning around from where they sat, still with drinks in hand.

"Yep, it's me."  You quickly said, ushering Kylo into your quarters in the hope that none of them would notice.

"Did you and Master Ren kiss and make up?"  Cardo asked, clearly teasing you, but chose to turn around at simply the perfect moment to catch you in the act.

Halfway through the blast doors to your private quarters you and Kylo froze, and a sheepish grin rose up onto your lips.

"Oh so you literally kissed and made up."  Ushar then said, the smirks appearing on all of their lips foreshadowing some relentless teasing.

"Well... kinda."  You tried to play it off, but before you could make any poor excuses, Kylo simply pulled you through the doors and had his lips on yours as they shut behind you.

As you guided him back towards the bed, you could hear the knights outside loudly wolf-whistling and jeering.

You had only wanted to be able to take your helmet off comfortably around the knights - now you not only had that, you had Kylo Ren too.  In exchange for that you could definitely put up with the teasing from your brothers.

[zahra-kha]

Dear Diary 10

I got word back from the goldsmith’s guild. It’s uh, gonna take some time to get those charms made. Mostly because I can’t afford them all right away! I’m definitely going to have to take on more missions, I’m a lot more broke than I thought! I can at least get Tamala and Jasper’s made. Maybe Tala’s but then I’d be stretching my funds a little thin. I’ll do it in sets. I still haven’t gone to hunt for Cecilia’s - but I was gonna wait for Starlight anyway. Maybe I can save up and do all three of theirs for a Starlight gift. It’s getting close to that time. Only a few moons away.

It’s not like I couldn’t contact my parents and ask for the funds but...then it wouldn’t really be from me now would it? I want this to be something that’s from the heart as much as possible. I’d craft the pieces myself if I could! But better to leave that to the professionals.

Anyroad, Plume was amazing last night! There were so many amazing fights. I forgot to ask Conor about his lass he’s been courting! I wonder if he’s taken that wonderful lady on another date? He’s so adorable when he talks about her - people who have a special someone always have that glow to them. If it’s not the way their face lights up, it’s in their eyes or their demeanor. They just change and it’s nice to see. I love romance (obviously, look at my romance novel collection)!

Jasper and Tamala fought and that was...wet. Tamala escaped again but Miss Leih was pissed and that’s the second time she’s drenched the place so...I don’t think Tamala is gonna escape her wrath so easily this time. Jasper definitely not. I can’t tell if she likes Jasper or likes to make him suffer. Maybe both? He’s good for shedding blood so maybe it’s both.

They both fought well but...if I ever went against Jasper I’m definitely going to use my chakrams. It’s not that Tamala wouldn’t be a hard fight - because she would be. We have similar attributes, we both fight ranged (which would get annoying), and she’s nimble. I’d probably switch up my fighting style to deal with her and her rune magic.

I think with Jasper - I’d absolutely not want to hold back with him. Sahrin’s always drilled certain principles into me and trained me a certain way - but I’ve learned so much since coming here that I wonder if maybe Fitaan didn’t have a point before we left for Eorzea. The two get along great for the most part, but they’d sometimes argue about the direction of the troupe when it came to how we function regarding combat.

Fun fact: Our troupe was a lot larger and different before Sahrin took over! We were more focused on helping nobility via infiltration, subterfuge, and political intrigue with our performances and events. We weren’t the only troupe that was involved with the darker side of Radz-at-Han, but we were one of the few that pulled away from it completely after a long and bloody history. According to Fitaan, Sai, and a few others, Sahrin taking over caused a huge rift and many members left.

His huge shift to wanting to focus more on genuine performances and using combat to straight kill instead of remaining in the shadows went against a lot of what many of the members stood for. Sahrin wanted to face enemies head on, he didn’t see the need or necessity of playing games. The argument that doing that could possibly breed more need to cleanse people possessed by the totentanz. The subterfuge and deception were necessary to keep the negative emotions at bay. Death was inevitable, but the difference between a slaughter and a scene that looked like an unfortunate accident could change perspectives and outlooks, breeding less anger and fear.

I have no idea how strong or accurate their argument actually was, but it was enough for there to be an actual divide.

Regardless, I’m starting to wonder if maybe Sahrin’s hard handed approach isn’t the best one. He took me in and trained me, but since then I’ve been able to fight others and test my skills against them. I’ve been so scared to fight them, to hurt them, but I feel now if I hold back I’m the one in the wrong.

Besides that, I think it’s arrogant to think that way, too. There are people better than me, it’s vain to think just because I’ve been trained a certain way that they won’t be able to defend against my attacks.

Like in my fight with Zhao tonight. Oh...well that was...

Hm.

Disappointing.

She’s a good fighter, I’m not going to discredit that. But from what I’ve noticed of her she’s got a mouth and well. Yeah. It’s about the sharpest thing about her. 

Imagine this: If the neighborhood dog barks at anyone when they come close, are you really gonna be all that phased when they bark at you when you come around?

That was my fight with Zhao.

She just...spits venom. It’s not even accurate venom - she called me a steppe barbarian just because I was using my fists. So I played the role and tried to make it entertaining because that’s what I do but really - it was hard to take her seriously after that. Girl, you have approximately 0 home training and manners and you’re going around calling people barbarians based solely off of their appearance and where you think they come from? I couldn’t even get mad, she sounded so ridiculous I decided to bully her.

She was boring with all that blah blah blah. The only good point she made was that my defense isn’t very good. I need to practice more. I’m still a novice when it comes to hand-to-hand. At least I won, I suppose, but it felt hollow when my opponent was so...ugh. But that’s a part of fighting too, I guess. Dealing with people like her who suck the fun out of fighting.

I bet if someone ends up reading this they’ll ask ‘why didn’t you try to be the bigger person and make her see you weren’t a barbarian’?

Why should I have? Is my counter. If she’s older than me and hasn’t figured out something as basic as ‘don’t judge people by appearances’ she’s beyond help. A five year old can grasp that.

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[starspatter]

Heroes and Thieves, Ch. 13

Title: Heroes and Thieves Fandom/Universe: BTAS, pre/post-RotJ flashback

Summary: A story about second chances, healing, and having hope.

Rating: PG-13, for references to character death, child psychological torture and trauma.

Genre: Romance/Family/Friendship/Hurt/Comfort

Word Count: 2,260 Previous Chapters: 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8, 9, 10, 11, 12

Also on ff.net and AO3. In which Tim isn’t Jason.

A long long time ago, in a tragedy If ever comes a day that I go away In a forest deep, you'll sink like a stone From that moment on, you'll go alone

For we are two of a kind; when we walk, we are one The sound of lies being told disappear like the sun And now we both bow our heads; only a single shadow Didn't you know that I'm also going alone?

-Fullkawa Honpo, "Alice"

————————–

Now.

Alfred had been in the midst of pouring himself a calming cup of tea in the parlor when he heard the doorbell ring, followed by loud banging on the outside.  He set the pot down and strode with as much steady grace as he could muster to the portentous sound coming from the porte.  Opening it, he came face to face with his former young charge, now grown older and grimmer in appearance compared to the foregone past.  …That seemed like only yesterday, yet at the same time so long ago.  When he’d wear a wide grin as he dashed straight into the manor upon coming home from school, eager to tell all about his day over a plate of snacks that would already be laid out and waiting for him; tossing coat and bag carelessly to the side, where Alfred would quietly pick them up and hang them in proper order. He’d shake his head, but smile and say nothing in light of the boy’s brimming energy and excitement as he waved to the butler in thanks, before charging up to cheerfully greet an ever expectant Bruce, vaulting heedlessly over any furniture on the way in vaunting display.

“Why, Master Timothy, what a… pleasant surprise.  How good to see you.”

“Sorry, Alfred,” Tim interjected briskly.  “I don’t have time to chat.  …They’re down there, aren’t they?”

“‘They’, sir?”

Tim’s eyes darkened dangerously.

“Cut the act, Alfred. You know who I’m talking about.”

Alfred sighed, standing aside to let the young man in.

“Master Bruce arrived back shortly ago with a young lady through the… ‘other entrance’.  They are at present where you’d suspect.”

Tim immediately brushed by without another word, breezing brazenly through the halls in a burning haste towards the study, where he stopped before an old grandfather clock.  He hesitated a moment as his hand tremblingly reached out, taking a deep breath before pulling on the pendulum to slide the access open, shouting an angry warning into its depths.  Foreboding darkness and blue cavern walls stretched before him as he descended down the familiar staircase for the first time in forever, feeling the sudden drop in temperature from subterranean chill.  When he reached the bottom, he arrested at the sight of his (second) worst nightmare come to life, freezing another few degrees.  …He was too late.

Seething, rage flooded his face as he flew at the culprit in fury, and for a second all he saw was pulsing red and bursts of black – erupting flashbacks – as he heatedly yelled at what was once his must trusted companion.  How could he?  The sheer nerve. He had given everything for him, and now he had betrayed his secrets – taken whatever little independence – or semblance of it – he had left.  Destroyed any remaining faith in his “father” by proving himself a fake and a liar, exposing sins of the “son” without even so much as consulting said subject. Insulting his pride and privacy in the worst way imaginable.

It took Steph’s worried voice and shaking to snap him out of it, and his mortification magnified as he wondered what she must think of him now.  He couldn’t even stand to look her in the eye, afraid to confront the same expression one would surely exhibit at a freak show.  Stabilizing, he stalled by requesting her to wait for him above ground. …Whether she actually would was a different story, but he didn’t really want to consider that possibility right now.

As he observed her cloaked backside heading up the steps, his vision traveled to the row of costumes beside, locked away in clear cases like inmates in their cells at Arkham.  He approached the smallest one in scarlet and put his palm on the mirrored glass, mimicking the exact same motion he made so many years ago the first time he laid shining, hopeful eyes on it, now staring dully at his own tired reflection.  In front of the mask instead of behind.

“So this is what you did with it,” he muttered, somehow unsurprised.  “You should’ve just burned it.  Like those tapes.”  Bitterness wedged in his tone as he glimpsed down the aisle at Batgirl’s and Nightwing’s dead, shed skins as well.  “…Or is that all we ever were to you?  More trophies to add to your collection?”

Batman simply stated:

“It’s there as a reminder.”

Tim nodded.  Deep down, he had known the answer already, but still he just wanted to make sure.  He needed to hear it said – out loud.

Rotating slowly back, he returned his gaze to his ex-guardian’s own guise, studying the apparent lack of revealing emotion.

“Bruce.  Take that off.  I want you to look at me.”

Batman remained unmoving for a beat, but acquiesced.

As the façade fell away, Tim could see the old man looked even older than he remembered, wrinkles and peppered gray starting to show.  Maybe far older than he should be.  …Than either of them should.

He fixed those cold, steel blue irises with a firm deadlock.

“Promise me you’ll never take on another Robin.”

“That I can assure.”

Tim surveyed the seriousness in the other’s countenance, accepting agreement on that front at least. He revolved to regard the rest of the room, a place filled with so many overwhelming memories he didn’t even know where to start.  (Though he deliberately avoided looking at the giant Joker card hanging directly above; why Bruce still bothered to keep that up was beyond him.)

“The last time I was down here… was the night you brought me back from Arkham.”  He swallowed, recollecting little about that time other than brief spots of awareness to his surroundings, and dimly hearing echoes of concerned voices that weren’t the Joker’s laugh or Harley’s high-pitched shrill, as his body was still in shock after everything.  …Or maybe he had just blocked it all out.  (Perhaps just as well, if he could’ve seen the pale looks of pure, panicked horror on their hovering visages, that very nearly matched his own.) “It hasn’t changed much, has it? New tech, new trophies…  But still the same dreary atmosphere.”

He ran his hand along a railing as he moved over towards the training equipment, recalling how he used to spend so much time balancing on it, performing handstands to help keep blood and thoughts flowing (and limbs from getting bored stiff) while they casually discussed more difficult cases – with Batgirl and Nightwing as well when he stopped by to assist in cracking particularly tough ones (or just to hang out and spar a bit with his lil bro) – brainstorming together as a team by combining their collective detective skills.  Barbara tended to pace as she pondered, while Dick would smirk and lean back in his chair with muscles lax behind his neck and feet propped up on the terminal, teasing that she looked like a lumbering red gorilla when she does that, and she’d snap back that he was being no help (and besides what was he even doing there didn’t he have his own place now maybe he should go fight crime with Catwoman if he’s so smart), and Bruce would irritably bark at them all over the two’s bickering (and Tim’s smothered snickering) to stay focused on task, only to be interrupted by Alfred as he came down to serve some food, insisting they all stay vitalized if they hope to make any progress.

Tim crossed over to the target range – past the medical bay, where Batman had interrogated him once after he’d been caught sneaking around (and stealing from) upstairs right after their initial meeting, whereupon he learned of Bruce Wayne’s secret identity.

“So what?  I know how to keep a secret.  You can trust me.”

He picked up a Batarang from the table.  It looked like a newer model than the ones he was used to; lighter, sleeker, circular, with bits of red on the edges of the winged blades.  He took careful aim at a stalactite, attempting to adjust to its weight, but the persistent tremors and twitches in his fingers wouldn’t cease, no matter how hard he endeavored to suppress.  Gritting his teeth, he shut one eye and let the wild projectile fly, but it only veered far off course, bouncing harmlessly off the back wall to drop down into the river below with a weak splash.  Shoving hands shamefully in his pockets and peering down into the chasm, Tim reflected on how he had stood here once, lifting his arms in breathtaking glory as he basked in his ultimate childhood fantasy, beholding the bedrock and bats, wistfully absorbing the beauty of it all.

“If you knew how many times I’d dreamed about this place.”

He kicked a stone into the ravine.

Bruce was watching him the whole time in silence.  Tim turned back and addressed gloomily.

“You know, I was always doing dumb stuff to try and impress you.  Draw your attention, get you to notice me.  Make you proud.  All I ever wanted was to be just like you when I grew up.”  He paused, taking in the pathetic, penitent image of his prior idol – now weary and weathered, clearly worn down by age and the endlessly waging war he still kept stubbornly fighting on his own, come hell or high water.  “I used to think you were the greatest man alive.  …You’re still the greatest man I ever met, Bruce. But this-” he gestured vaguely at the empty expanse, “-what you do – what you had us do – it can’t be called ‘living’.  …I realize that now.”

The other only grunted, questioning gruffly:

“What’s your point?”

Tim gave him an almost-pitying glance.

“Bruce, I forgive you – for not saving me.  But when are you – for once – going to try and save yourself?”

Bruce blinked back at him, blankly.  Tim bit his lip as he tried to explain.

“I didn’t leave – just because I couldn’t be Robin anymore.  I was mad at first, that you would take all of that away from me.  …But I understood why.  The real reason I left – is because I couldn’t stand the way you looked at me afterwards.  Like I was your greatest failure, as if you regretted ever picking me up off the streets and taking me into your home in the first place. I couldn’t take it anymore.”

He inhaled.

“Even then, I would’ve stayed – if you’d only asked me to.  Admitted – for once in your sorry life – that you still need someone in it.”

His fists balled in frustration.

“But you never could admit that, could you?  I get it: Ever since your parents died, you’ve had trouble expressing yourself.  You blame yourself for what happened, every single bad thing that’s come your way since then. That’s why you keep all this old junk around, just like their pictures everywhere upstairs.  So you won’t forget that it’s all your fault, that you’ve hurt everyone you’ve ever come in contact with, isn’t that right?”

Bruce said nothing, but his eyes narrowed slightly.

“So you end up pushing people away, until you’re finally all by yourself.  Because you believe it’s for the best.  You think you deserve to be alone, when it…”  He gulped, sensing the hypocritical stab in his own gut. “…Isn’t true.”

Tim took a tentative step forward, trying to close some distance, bridge the extensive gap between them – that almost seemed like an eternity at this point – but simultaneously struggling to find words and will for it.

“Bruce, I’d like us – to still be friends.  …But if this is how it’s going to be between us – if I can’t even trust you to keep my secret, not to ruin the one good thing I’ve had since then – then I can’t be around you anymore.”

He cast one last nostalgic look around at what he used to call “home”, etching the sentimental scene into his brain.  His safe “haven”, where he could always count on his “family” being there for him.   …Not a sanctuary, he recognized fully now, but a prison.  Built for one solitary soul, never meant to share in the first place. A private “Plan” others weren’t originally supposed to be part of, no matter how much the architect desired it deep down.  Who broke that vow more than once in an effort to better someone else’s life, only to be burned so badly (and vice-versa) that both parties feared forming close connections again as a result.  To care that much for someone, only to eventually receive bitter disappointment in the end – if not the other way around.

Yet, despite all odds, Tim had found a flicker of hope in another’s company.  Comfort.  Courage.  And he- wanted to keep striving towards it.  He didn’t want to end up like him.  Like this.  So lonely and isolated from the entire world.  Even through all the hate and hurt, he didn’t wish for this kind of bleak future, a mere hollow existence – for either of them.  …But this was as far as he could confess it.  He couldn’t keep coaxing, chasing constantly after remote coattails and infinite comets, straining so desperately to catch and ride on them anymore; he needed to be met halfway.  It was up to the opposite side, ball in the other’s court now.

“When you’re ready to come out of the cave and be a person again, let me know.  I’ll be waiting.”

With that, he walked past the mute shadow to the stairs and up the ascent, never looking back. Denying darkness for the light.

“Goodbye, Bruce.”

————————–

And I am one of a kind; when I walk, I am alone I've grown weary of lying to the bone Now I bow my head in this golden room I was here with you, and now, it's gone too soon

In a forest deep, I sank and I knew I'm a charred and dirty, forsaken fruit And that is the end - there's nothing more to recount From this moment on, you'll go alone

[shipersanonymous]

Tears She Shed

A West-Allen au 💜

Dark. Heartbreaking. Tear inducing. A story that shows us a Barry we're not used to seeing.

The day Iris said  "I do" she made a promise to love and cherish him forever, a promise that now weighs heavily on her beat down shoulders. She knew he wasn't the same, she'd senced it before she stepped foot down the aisle but she loved him and love conquers all.

Or does it?

What will she be willing to give to keep the love of her life? Is she strong enough to let go and find her happiness? What choice will she make when trapped between her heart and her freedom? How many more tears will she shed?

WARNING : MAY CONTAIN CONTENT NOT SUITABLE FOR READERS UNDER THE AGE OF 18

............................................................

Author’s Note: 

A little darker. A little angstier. A little more gruesome. A little more painful.

This fic is inspired by the WA fic "Her Worst Nightmare" by dysfunctional_scribe . It is on AO3 so if you haven't checked it out yet I highly recommend it, though please be warned it's not for the faint of heart.

I'll be straight up honest with you. I usually like to write dark (don't ask me why) but this is a little hard for me. Having to depict Barry in such a negative light is a nightmare and having to tap into Iris's emotions to be able to describe them in a way that (hopefully) makes you feel it too is downright heartbreaking. But I wouldn't trade it for anything. As emotionally scarring as the experience might be its an opportunity for growth and I beg of you, please, give me your honest opinion.

Hope you enjoy it! (To the extent possible)

XOXO

Chapter 1

His rhythmic drumming on the steering wheel pounds through her brain, the fear heightening all her senses. She knew that leaving without him was a mistake but she couldn't keep her boss waiting any longer. Now she has to deal with the consequences. It takes all she has not to flinch as his thumbs hit the wheel at an aggressive pace almost like a foreshadowing of what awaits her at home.

"Home". The word feels foreign. She hasn't felt at home in a long time. Not at the loft, not in their bed, not in his arms. Especially not in his arms. Those arms that at first enveloped her and swept her off her feet into a dream. That saved her time and time again and kept the monsters at bay. Now he is the monster and out of all the nightmares she's faced and could have possibly pictured herself facing, this has never been one of them. It's by far the worst. They pull into the parking lot and she feels her heart sink to her stomach. The drive wasn't long enough, she's still not ready. He takes a deep breath beside her and her eyes begin to well up before he lays a single finger on her. She wants to apologize, to explain that she couldn't wait for him any longer, that to keep Scott waiting for another hour would have been unprofessional but she knows better. She knows that saying anything before he speaks will only make matters worse. So she sits silent and unmoving. Her throat grows scratchy from the effort of holding back tears. Maybe if she behaves this time, if she pretends like she isn't even there he will let her be. As if hearing her thoughts, he opens the door and gets out, slamming it in his wake.

She allows herself a moment to breathe but does not, for a single second, fall prey to the illusion that she has been spared. His footsteps grow faint and she waits for a second longer before going after him. As soon as she shuts the door the car alarm activates. He's watching her. She swallows the lump in her throat and hurries towards the elevator. She finds the doors closing and he makes no effort to hold them open. He's drawing out her torture, letting the fear sink in so she'll be too overwhelmed to fight back. It's working.

By the time she reaches the loft her heart is beating so furiously that she's afraid it might stop altogether. Her hand trembles as she opens the door and takes a shaky step inside. She finds him seated on the couch, his back facing her and a glass of whiskey resting in his hand. He knows that he can't get drunk but he tries anyway.

"Babe?" His voice is calm and she shivers. He didn't say her name. He never says her name before he... It's his way of hurting what his hands can't touch. He's striping her of her name, of her identity, dehumanizing her with cuddly pet names that contrast shockingly with his actions.

"Ye-yes honey?" She calls back trying to keep the shake out of her voice and not bothering to take a step closer.

"Do you still love me?" He asks but his voice lacks any longing or emotion.

"Of course I do baby. I'll always love you."

He falls silent. The sound of his glass hitting the wall punctures the tension in the room and before she has time to blink he's standing in front of her. He grabs a chunk of her hair and yanks it back. She lets out a cry of pain, reaching for her head and feeling the muscles in her neck tense up with discomfort.

"Don't lie to me, " he spits out.

"I'm not, baby. I promise. I love you, " she pleads and he gives her hair a forceful tug.

"Don't lie to me!" He screams out this time and she flinches. He grabs hold of her jaw with his free hand and squeezes.

"If you loved me you wouldn't make me look bad in front of other people." He tells her, with a soft voice that drips in anger and wild eyes to match. He let's go of her abruptly, and she rubs her aching jaw.

"Baby I'm, I'm sorry. I just couldn't let him wait any longer, he-he's my boss and was kind enough to take us out to dinner. I was just..." He shuts her up with a slap to the face that leaves her disoriented and she falls to her knees. A kick to the side follows and she flattens out on the floor holding her bruised but thankfully not broken ribs. He straddles her, crushing her stomach with his weight, and she's reminded yet again how much smaller she is in comparison to him. How powerless and insignificant her existence is. These are emotions he used to nurse her out of, whenever she stood by his side (the old him) she felt invincible, she stood tall with him. Now they're wounds that he inflicts continuously. Each encounter taking a little piece of her bravery away, diminishing her shine, turning her into a living corpse. Cold and lifeless. His large hands close around her throat.

"US out to dinner? He didn't take US out to dinner. He took YOU out to dinner." He says in a strained voice as each delusional sentence makes him squeeze tighter and tighter. She has no option but to stare up at his animal-like eyes. Rage screams at her from them, a dark and empty emotion, that lets her know for sure...The Barry she knows and loves isn't there. Her eyes burn with tears that she refuses to shed, the only act of defiance she can muster at the moment. She claws at his hands desperately but he doesn't seem to notice. Instead, he tightens his grip around her neck and lifts her head only to bang it back down on to the floor. That knocks what little breath she has left out of her and her vision blurs with the sudden impact but she can't scream out her pain. You need air to scream and she currently has none. The grip around her throat eases with the dislodging of one of his hands, allowing her to take minuscule breaths, but she has no time to appreciate the insignificant relief before her drowsy mind begins to fear what he might do with his newly freed weapon. She doesn't have to wonder long.

One blow, two blows, three blows, delivered one after the other. Before long, her burning right eye begins to swell, one of the many reminders she'll have to deal with in the morning. On the fourth blow she feels her skin sting as it rips, he's drawn blood. For an argument this minor he doesn't usually go any further than a little bloodshed, he's made his point there's no need to press on. As always his control strikes her as odd. For a man with his superhuman abilities, it would be easy to just lose it and kill her, she would have actually preferred it that way. Yet he somehow manages to contain himself making his abuse all the more deliberate and heartbreaking.

His grip around her neck tightens once more and he brings her ear up to his lips.

"He can't take you away from me, honey. You're mine." He whispers before slamming her head on the floor once again. This time, it's lights out.

She floats back into consciousness a while later. Her head is hazy and her vision is partially impaired. She's trying to piece together her fragmented thoughts but before her mind completely clears her senses come back to life and that's when she feels it. The pain. Prior events come back to haunt her but not as memories, instead, they make themselves known through physical aches. She tries to move and the sound of water echoes through the room.

"Shhh, Iris. Don't move." He whispers, his voice floating towards her from a distance. He called her Iris, he's back. She blinks, her swollen eye burning with the action, and tries to bring her coherence up to 100%. She manages a disappointing 50%. That's just enough for her to realise that she's in their bathroom, in a tub of warm water, with an ice pack pressed against her right eye. He'd done it again. Hit her. Scott, her boss, had invited them both out to dinner during the annual CCPN fundraiser and she'd gone without her husband because he was late. That earned her a pummeling.

"Are you alright? Does something hurt?" He asks concerned. He seems to be back to his old self but Iris knows better. That darkness is just lying asleep somewhere inside him, waiting to take over after the smallest of challenges. She doesn't speak. She's too sore and too afraid to answer. She can't even nod her response or her maddening headache might worsen. She feels him press his forehead to the side of hers.

"I thought I lost you. I'm sorry. I'm so sorry." He whispers then plants a gentle kiss to her cheek. Iris closes her eyes and despite the voice in her head telling her not to be a fool, she listens to her heart(as always) and allows herself to enjoy his affection.

"I love you. I love you so, so, much Iris. You know that right?" He pleads.

"I know Barry. I love you too." She manages to croak out, her voice raspy and hoarse. He drops the ice pack (which Iris now realises he was holding to nurse her half shut-eye) and she turns her head to look at him. Once again she's taken aback by his eyes, the rage isn't there anymore. In its place are longing, guilt and love. So much love. Her heart trembles with the smallest sliver of hope. Maybe this time he'll stay. Maybe this time he really means it when he says that he's sorry. She reaches a weak hand up and places it on his cheek, offering him a forgiving, smile.

"I can't lose you Iris. I just can't. I can't live without you."

"Shh. It's ok babe. You're never going to lose me. I'm yours forever."

She leans in and presses a kiss to his lips. A part of her wants to pull back and throw up. He'd hurt her for the umpteenth time and it was bound to happen again. The other part of her, the broken part, the majority of her wants desperately for his words to be true. That part needs reassurance that she hasn't stayed this long for nothing, that there's still hope for them after all. That the man she loves is still here with her, he's fighting through it just like she is. He responds by moving his lips against hers. His kisses are soft, caring. Nothing like the brutal punches he'd thrown at her earlier. She feels his hand move down her body tenderly before he hooks his arm beneath her knees and with his other hand pressed to her back he lifts her from the tub.

"Barry? What are you doing?" She asks as he carries her back into the bedroom.

"I'm gonna make it all better." He whispers and a shiver runs down her spine at the hint of lust that punctuates his words. He places her gently onto their bed and the sheets beneath her are soaked within seconds. Barry's lips find hers in the dark and he takes her breath away once again, this time with passionate kisses. He turns his attention onto her neck, kissing the tender skin and occasionally sucking it, leaving marks of a different nature. A soft moan escapes her lips as he takes a hardened nipple into his mouth while his fingers tease her lower lips. He slowly presses two of them into her and she whispers out his name. He teases her breast with his tongue while his fingers work on her sweet spot to get her off.

"You're so beautiful, " he whispers. "I love you Iris." He declares and she wants to answer but her mind is clouded by her nearing orgasm.

"I-I" her breath comes out in short puffs and she can barely string a sentence together.

"Shhh, you don't have to say, anything baby. Just come for me. Show me how much you love me." Her brain takes note of the pet name but she's already too far gone to stop now. Her hips answer his provocations and to add the cherry on top he vibrates his fingers slightly sending her over the edge. Her back arches as a wave of ecstasy washes over her. He withdraws his fingers from inside her and in the darkness, she can feel his smile. He kisses her, gently but it seems cold somehow.

"I told you you're mine. No one else can take you over like I just did." He whispers into her ear, shattering the brief wonderland she'd built for herself and bringing her face to face with her reality.

She's in love with a monster.

...

The next morning she wakes up naked in an empty bed. She's curled up into a ball, freezing in the early morning chill. He didn't even care enough to cover her. Feeling exposed and violated, she gets up and walks to their bathroom. Staring at the mirror she's confronted with the truth, she'd fallen for his act again. The skin around her eye is purple and pink and she still can't open it fully. Her ribs are bruised where he'd kicked her and her neck has the imprint of his fingers etched into it like a sickening tattoo. Along with the love bites he'd given her. It wasn't an act of love, it was him marking his territory. She was his.

All the lies he'd told while making her quiver with need come back to assault her. He can't live without her. He loves her, she's beautiful. He could barely see her how could he call her beautiful! Her reflection blurs behind tears that she'd been fighting off last night but now allows herself to shed.

Stupid.

That's what she is. Completely and utterly stupid for still believing in his sharp tongue. Her chest is suddenly crushed by an unimaginable shame. She came for him. Her body still responds to his touch, still caves to his advances. Bile rises at the back of her throat and she rushes to the toilet to expel her disgust.

Disgust in herself.

Iris fills the bathtub with water and settles in to it. She grabs her loofa and scrubs vigorously, further bruising her already sensitive skin. The pain doesn't bother her. It has become her friend. Her close companion both physically and emotionally. So close in fact that she no longer remembers who she was without it. She submerges herself completely into the tub and in the partial silence of being underwater, she prays in thought that her heart just stop. That her breath hitches and she slips into a never-ending sleep. She opens her mouth and breathes, the sting of water in her lungs causing her to convulse. Iris shoots out of the water, coughing and wheezing. Gasping for breath. Her prayer hasn't been answered.

Disillusioned she gets ready for work and to her relief her husband doesn't come home before she leaves. The sun is up now and despite the slight heat of the day Iris arrives at work with a scarf wrapped around her neck. She hid the damage to her face as best as she could with concealer but there isn't much she could have done about the slight swelling. She keeps to herself, afraid of all the concerned glances and difficult questions, that is until she's cornered in the meetings room by Scott.

"Set up duty West?" He asks as he steps inside to find her laying out folders that contain the topics of discussion for today's meeting.

She looks up at him and offers him a forlorn smile.

"Yeah, Linda didn't come in today, I think she's sick, so I took her turn." She answers. Scott's smile falls from his face and she's reminded of her appearance. She immediately drops her gaze and turns her face to the ground.

"What happened?" He asks, undeniably worried as he steps towards her.

"Nothing I just, " she chuckles nervously. "I fell down the stairs is all. Clumsy me." She lies and her boss sees right through her excuse.

"Iris?" He asks again, his tone begging her to tell him the truth. She remains still, too ashamed to face him. He reaches out to touch her bruised skin but only manages to get close enough that she can feel the warmth from his hand on her cheek before she flinches. With her eyes closed and in a voice so soft that if he weren't paying attention he'd miss it, she allows herself a much needed moment of weakness.

"Please don't, " she whispers. "If he finds out he'll kill me."

Scott's eyes widen though Iris doesn't see it with her own still being closed. He feels a knot form in his throat and asks,

"Who? Barry?"

At the mention of his name Iris begins to panic. Her paranoia has escalated over the years to the point where she fears he has eyes and ears everywhere.

"I've said too much," She says flustered and rushes to the door.

"Iris wait, please. I wanna help you." His voice is coated with a layer of sincere concern and her hand wavers on the door handle as she imagines how easy it would be to just give in. To let him hold her while she cries, to feel safe again. Yet she looks up at him with sorrowful eyes and says,

"Scott, please. I'm asking you as a friend.  For both our sakes, forget I said anything."

With that, she walks away heavy-hearted. At her table, she slumps down on to the office chair and hides her face in her hands. The area around her bruised eye stings with the pressure and she suddenly feels exhausted, weighed down by the crushing realisation that there is no escape. If she so much as contemplates leaving he will find her, and he'll kill whoever stands in his way. The guilt would crush her and there's no way to escape on her own. She's not strong enough to leave him. Not alone. Her wedding ring burns around her finger like a noose. Each day it grows tighter and tighter and she's losing her breath, fading slowly, craving a sweet release that approaches at a snail-like a pace. Until then, she waits. Trapped with no escape.

[spacedancer1701]

The Curse (or: A Blessing In Disguise)

Fandom: Star Trek: The Original Series (TOS)  Pairing: McCoy / Uhura  Rating/Warning: Explicit (M) Word Count: 12.108

Read it on AO3: The Curse

Summary:  When an angry ambassador puts a curse on her, Uhura has needs, and McCoy is there to help. 

Part 1: The Problem

McCoy was standing to attention in the transporter room. His dress uniform felt especially uncomfortable today, and he couldn’t wait to get rid of it again, just like he couldn’t wait to get rid of this nasty excuse for an ambassador. In hindsight, even Elaan of Troyius had seemed friendly and well-behaved compared to him. If the rest of this new member planet’s population were anything like him, then God help the Federation!

The ambassador was as rude as they come and hadn’t missed a chance to put his foot in it. McCoy couldn’t shed the feeling that he’d enjoyed it, too. Had probably done it on purpose in the first place. He’d been arrogant and demanding. And highly disrespectful, especially of the female members of the crew. Uhura, who’d been chosen as his ‘personal assistant’, had taken the brunt of it, and McCoy had barely been able to keep his temper, witnessing the smart and amazing communications officer being insulted time after time.

Jim had been right, of course, Uhura was a woman who could take care of herself. And with her confident, kind and cheerful personality she’d probably been better suited for this job than any other crew member. But it had still been hard for the doctor to just stand by and watch her fight to keep her calm, and her seemingly never-ending patience.

McCoy stole a glance at Uhura, who was standing next to him. Judging from her unsmiling face, she definitely couldn’t wait to see the back of the ambassador, either. On entering the transporter room, the goon had even had the audacity to ask her to join him for the rest of his voyage.

When she’d politely declined and wished him a safe journey, swiftly avoiding his roaming hands, as she’d learned to do over the past three days, he’d looked at her with such rage and hatred, it had sent a cold shiver down McCoy’s spine. Yet, Uhura hadn’t blinked an eye, firmly standing her ground. And McCoy had never admired her more.

Now, the ambassador was standing on the transporter platform, rudely waving away Kirk’s parting words and addressing Uhura one final time.

“You’ll regret not coming with me, you’ll see, my sweet beauty,” he sneered. “You’ll slowly go insane without me, unable to help yourself, wishing I was still around to help you out. But I’ll be long gone. So good luck finding help elsewhere!”

And just before the transporter beam took him away, he blew her a kiss, adding, “Third time lucky!” and McCoy could have sworn he actually saw the words float over and dissolve around Uhura’s body.

As soon as the ambassador was gone, Jim exhaled noisily, turned on his heel and stomped out of the transporter room, closely followed by Spock, who seemed uncharacteristically relieved, too.

Bet he couldn’t have taken much more of this offending behaviour, either, McCoy thought, grinning wryly.

But when his gaze returned to Uhura, who still hadn’t taken a step towards the door, her tightly pressed lips and clenched fists took the grin right off his face again.

“Relax, Uhura,” he said reassuringly, “he’s gone now. And good riddance, too! You’ve done a terrific job. No one else could have handled him the way you did.”

She flashed him a grateful smile that didn’t reach her eyes, and he grew really concerned when he noticed that she was trembling.

“You alright, Lieutenant?” he asked softly, stepping towards her and putting a comforting hand on her shoulder.

Uhura shrank away from his touch, cringing as if his hand had scorched her.

“Don’t worry, Doctor, I’m all right,” she muttered under her breath, “I just need some peace and quiet.” And when he didn’t look convinced, reaching out for her again, she added an imploring, “Please!” then turned and fled from the transporter room, leaving a baffled and worried McCoy behind.

******

Uhura stumbled blindly towards the turbolift. She needed to get to her quarters as quickly as possible. Her whole body was on fire with an overpowering sexual desire that had hit her out of nowhere.

It had started the moment the ambassador had dissolved in the transporter beam, surprising her in a most embarrassing way, and she had a strong suspicion, that it had something to do with the ambassador’s final words. What must the doctor have thought of her?

Knowing how caring and easily worried McCoy was, she just hoped, he wasn’t coming after her. She was horny as hell and would probably jump his bones, no pun intended, right in the middle of a busy corridor, if he touched her again.

No, she needed to get to the privacy of her quarters ASAP and take care of her ever-growing need for relief.

Damn that ambassador! she thought angrily. This was the final insult.

As soon as the doors to her quarters had slid shut and locked behind her, she let out the groan that had been building in her throat for the past few minutes, and made a beeline for her bed, barely kicking off her boots on the way.

She flopped down on her back, not even bothering to remove her underwear or tights, and let her hands go straight to rub between her legs.

Only when the frantic movements of her fingers didn’t seem to have the slightest effect on her desperate situation, did she slip one hand inside her soaking wet panties, hoping to finally find relief with the clothes out of the way.

That definitely had an effect. The moment her fingers had found their way in between her swollen folds, barely touching her sensitive nub, her body was jolted by a piercingly lustful sensation, off every scale she’d ever known, that nearly made her arch off the bed.

Finally! She couldn’t have taken one more minute of this abnormal horniness.

But her relief was short-lived, when she realised that, instead of finally sending her over the edge, her fingers’ actions only served to take her arousal to the next level.

She cried out in frustration, tossing her head from side to side, then got up from the bed and frenziedly began to rub herself against anything she could find. Her couch, a chair, the knob of one of her drawers, a rolled-up terry cloth, even her hairbrush, quickly moving on to the next thing after the initial alleviation of the first few seconds had worn off.

Through the haze of her unbridled lust, she tried to kickstart her brain back into action and focus on finding a way out of this predicament. Her own hands were obviously not enough to put an end to her ordeal.

Suddenly she remembered a dildo that her friends had given her for her 30th birthday as a joke, and desperately started rummaging around for it in her drawers. Annoyingly, it was still in its original packaging, and she had a terribly hard time unwrapping it with shaking fingers, unable to concentrate or even stand still for a second.

When she’d managed to switch it on at last, she rushed back to her bed, hoping against hope that this would be the answer to her prayers. But of course, that wasn’t the case, and she was gripped by a terrible fear of being eternally stuck on the brink of orgasm, never achieving that final nudge that would send her over the edge.

Just then, her communicator beeped and Kirk’s voice nearly made her jump out of her skin.

“Bridge to Uhura!”

Uhura knew she had to answer that call, if she didn’t want a whole search team come looking for her. So she summoned up all her willpower and hoped her voice wouldn’t betray her.

“Uhura here, Sir!” she squeaked.

There was a short pause, then Kirk said, “You sound exhausted, Lieutenant, but that’s totally understandable. You did a great job with the ambassador. Why don’t you take the rest of the day off and treat yourself?”

Uhura was too weak to laugh at the irony of his words, and just closed the channel with a curt, “Thank you, Sir!” She could worry about her lack of politeness later.

All that mattered now was to get away from the voice that had filled her room, and her groins. She wouldn’t have lasted through a longer conversation. Funny, how she’d never noticed the captain’s sexy voice before. But every one of his words just now had felt like sensuous lips wrapped around her clit, sucking and licking and thrilling her to the core.

Just like McCoy’s comforting touch earlier, it suddenly dawned on her. No more than a friendly hand on her shoulder, it had felt like the most delicious caress of her private parts, raising her budding arousal to the highest levels of lust in a flash, and forcing her to flee from the transporter room on the double.

Unable to help yourself! the ambassador’s words echoed in her head. That was it! she realised with a start. That had been his cruel, sadistic plan! The sensation of unbearable arousal was momentarily replaced by an all-consuming rage, only to return a second later with full force.

What was she to do? A feeling of helpless despair joined the other emotions racing through her body, while her hand kept mindlessly rubbing her clit in a futile attempt to keep her need to climax at bay. She needed help, but who could she turn to?

She was friends with most of her crew mates, even close with several of her male colleagues. But not that close. She could hardly walk up to any of them, especially in her frenzied state of mind, and ask them to sleep with her in order to rescue her from some dubious curse. It would be mortifying. And they wouldn’t even believe her.

Suddenly it hit her. Dr. McCoy. He was a doctor and had certainly come across the most incredible and embarrassing health issues in his career. He was also the kindest, most caring and compassionate man she knew. And he’d been there and heard the ambassador’s words, too. He would believe her. And hopefully, he’d have a remedy, some sedative that would put her under until the ambassador’s curse lost its power over her.

Feeling hopeful at the thought, she got up to put her boots back on, wash the sweat off her face, and fix her hair as well as she could with one hand, while trying to keep her pulsing arousal in check with her other.

After she was done, it took her a while to summon up the will to remove her hand from her panties, and when she finally managed to, she sprinted out the door, making her way to sickbay in record time.

Part 2: The Solution

Dr. McCoy was just cleaning up after his last patient for the morning, thinking about what to have for lunch, when a panting, dishevelled looking Uhura came barging into his office without knocking.

Worried by her uncharacteristic behaviour, he hurried to her side, but stopped his hand mid-air, when he saw her shrink back from his touch, just like she had this morning in the transporter room.

“I need your help, Doctor,” she wheezed, her body convulsed with pain.  

He motioned her to a biobed, careful not to touch her, but she refused, shifting from one foot to the other, as if she were desperate for the bathroom.

“What’s wrong, Uhura? How can I help?” he asked, trying to sound calm and reassuring while running a tricorder over her twitching body.

Her pulse and blood pressure were up, her pheromone level slightly raised, and he could see that her pupils were dilated. But apart from that, she was perfectly healthy. A woman who’d just had sex, he concluded, getting more concerned by the minute, as his mind raced through all the possible reasons for her visit to sickbay.

“I’m so aroused, Doctor!” she blurted out.

McCoy did a double take at her surprising, yet medically correct statement, and, unsure how to reply, just raised a quizzical eyebrow at her.

“Help me, please!” she whispered entreatingly.

“You want my help with … this?” he chuckled nervously, really confused now.

“Doctor, please, this is not a joke,” she whimpered, wringing her hands and starting to pace. “And it’s beyond embarrassing, believe me, but I thought you might have a sedative or something to help me?”

“I’m afraid, I don’t follow,” the doctor said as soothingly as he could, his face a picture of compassion and confusion. “I get this is serious, but I’ll need a little more information. Try to relax and start from the beginning, please.”

Uhura let out a frustrated whine, then gave him an abridged version of what had transpired since the ambassador had left this morning, her desperation clearly outweighing her embarrassment.

“Son of a bitch!” the doctor muttered under his breath. So, he’d not been mistaken, when he’d seen the ambassador’s words actually hit Uhura this morning. He couldn’t imagine what she was going through, just the idea making him shudder. But he’d have to put aside all thoughts of hatred and revenge for now, and find a way to help the afflicted communications officer.

“You’ve already tried to ... er ... fix this yourself, I take it?” he asked, hoping not to sound too awkward.

Uhura just shot him an exasperated look.

“Right, of course you have,” he mumbled, scratching the back of his head. “Ok, let’s try a sedative.”

He filled a hypospray and injected Uhura, closely observing her for any reactions.

“Nothing,” Uhura told him after some moments, and the disappointment on her face was heart-breaking.

“All right, there’s another one we can try,” he told her in his most optimistic doctor’s voice.  

Another hypospray hissed against Uhura’s arm.

“I’m feeling a little dazed now,” she sounded hopeful, “but the ... er ... feeling’s still there. Almost worse than before.”

She groaned with frustration, wriggling about, her hand moving in the direction of her private parts several times, obviously desperate to touch herself.

McCoy’s heart went out to her, and he racked his brains for another solution.

“Please, Doctor,” she begged, “try another one!”

“I can’t, Uhura, I’m sorry. A third sedative would be irresponsible.”

“But I can’t take any more of this. I just can’t!”

Seeing her dismay nearly tore him apart.

“We’ll have to find another way.”

He’d said we. Uhura could have kissed him.

“What did the ambassador say exactly?” he asked. “Good luck finding help elsewhere?”

Uhura nodded slowly, losing herself even more in the haze of her lust, thanks to the sedative.

“That could mean that, although you can’t help yourself, someone else might,” the doctor went on, feeling more than a little uneasy at where his reasoning was taking him. He couldn’t, could he? But then, Uhura was in agony, he had to help her somehow. And he just couldn’t think of any other way.

“Do you trust me, Uhura?” he asked gently, trying to catch her eye.

“Implicitly,” she smiled, hardly able to fight the urge to push him down on his chair and straddle him.

“I might have an idea there, but it’s rather... er ... delicate. Unethical, really.”

“Anything you suggest, Doctor!” she gasped. “Please, I can’t think straight anymore. But I trust you.”

“Come on, then,” he drawled, fully aware of the responsibility she’d just put on him, and beckoned her to follow him into the adjacent private examination room, closing the doors behind them and engaging the privacy lock.

“Lie down on the biobed, will you?” he said softly.

“Are you going to sleep with me, Doctor?” Uhura asked, sounding almost hysterical, as she climbed onto the bed and lay on her back.

“No,” he laughed nervously, “something a little less drastic.” Then he stepped to her side, looked straight into her eyes and murmured, “Still unethical, though.”

Uhura fidgeted around restlessly, unable to suppress the desperate, grinding motions of her hips any longer.

“Whatever you think might end this agony, Doctor. Surely, you’ve noticed that I’m beyond embarrassed by now. Just get on with it, please, I’m at the end of my tether.”

McCoy took a deep breath and put on some surgical gloves.

“All right, let’s do this. You can file a complaint later,” he chuckled in an attempt at humour, then, stepping back to the side of the biobed, quickly added, “I promise to keep this as professional as possible.”

Uhura nodded weakly, exhaustion clouding her beautiful face.

“Can you take off your underwear, please?” McCoy asked. But when he watched her ineffectively fumble around her skirt with trembling fingers, a surge of tender affection for her rushed through him, and he swiftly pulled off her tights and underpants, neatly folding them on a nearby chair.

He exhaled deeply, closed his eyes for a moment and tried to summon up at least some of his professional detachment. This was a patient in need, and he was a healer, doing everything in his power to help.

Slowly and carefully he put his hands on Uhura’s hips to give her a chance to get used to his touch. When her twitching intensified and she grunted impatiently, he slid one hand across her thigh, gently parted her swollen labia with his fingers, and let his thumb glide through the excessive wetness, lightly grazing the tip of her clitoris.

Uhura cried out at the touch, nearly arching off the biobed, her sensitivity heightened to the extreme, and the doctor pulled back immediately.

“I’m sorry, Uhura. I should have been more careful,” he apologised, secretly wondering if that would even have been possible.

“It’s all right, Doctor,” Uhura panted, “I had the same reaction to my own fingers. The ambassador’s curse has obviously heightened my senses on top of everything else. I’ll get used to it. Please don’t give up!”

“I won’t,” McCoy promised, placing his hand back between her legs, determined to be even more gentle this time. And to disregard the extremely unprofessional bulge growing in his own trousers.

Uhura’s reaction to his second touch was less intense, if not significantly, and he continued to let his thumb and fingers dance over her slick and swollen pearl, alternating between lazy circles and rapid drumming, light tapping and steady rubbing, making her howl and moan and sigh and beg.

“Don’t worry, sickbay is soundproof. No need to hold back”, he reassured her, when she clamped her hands over her mouth, trying to keep the noise down.

Maybe she was always this noisy, or maybe the frustratingly long time of pent-up lust had taken its toll. Whichever, he’d definitely never met a woman as sensitive to his touch before.

“Yes, yes, yes, oh my God!” she squealed, “This is so good! Please, don’t stop! Don’t ever stop!”

Not helping! McCoy thought, finding it increasingly hard to ignore his own growing erection.

Uhura was lost in her own world now. The sensations that rippled through her body were incredible. She’d thought she’d been as aroused as anyone could get before, but the doctor’s nimble fingers were driving her even higher. The rumours about his skilled surgeon’s fingers seemed to be true after all.

The fog of frustrated horniness clogging her mind had been lifted, and she was floating on a sea of delicious, indescribable lust. The teasing fingers were even more unbearable than all the things she’d tried before in her quarters. The only difference being that she could now actually feel herself getting closer to orgasm.

She’d always found the doctor handsome and attractive, and they’d flirted a lot over the years, but he’d never shown interest in anything more than friendship, and she’d been all right with that.

But now she could feel herself falling for him, for this kind and caring man, for this incredibly skilled lover. The way he refused to look at her, keeping his eyes fixed on a far point on the wall, doing everything to stick to his promise of keeping this professional while pleasuring her in the most delicious ways, was simply adorable.

McCoy was trying hard to keep his mind off his own growing need. Not an easy feat, given that his fingers were busy stimulating a woman’s intimate parts, drenched in the most intoxicating fragrance.

And it wasn’t just any woman, either. It was Uhura! One of the most beautiful and brilliant women he’d ever met, and certainly the hottest girl on the Enterprise. They’d flirted a lot over the years, but she was so out of his league, she’d never really taken him seriously.

Yet now, here she was, moaning and writhing ecstatically under the touch of his hand. The whole situation was so unreal, he just couldn’t get his head around it.

He tried to fight the urge to look at her, but once he snuck a peek and saw her beautiful face, scrunched up with overwhelming pleasure, he just couldn’t take his eyes off again.

And when she finally came, delirious with relief and the sheer intensity of her orgasm, arching uncontrollably into his hand, her body trembling and jolting so hard, McCoy could barely keep her safely on the biobed, the image of her lovely face, flushed with overwhelming pleasure, eyes squeezed shut in complete surrender, got indelibly burnt into his memory, as his eyes soaked up every little “Oh” and “Ah” and “Mmhhh” of her pretty mouth.

To see this goddess climax was like a dream come true. In the throes of passion, she was even more beautiful. More than he could ever have imagined. Surely, he could be professional and still keep this image as a treasured memory, a gift, for lonely hours.

Uhura felt like she’d just died and gone to heaven. She’d never come this hard before, never felt such pleasure at the hands of a man. Was it the curse or the doctor’s skill? she wondered.

But then again, she’d never been under such a sadistic spell before, never been held in suspense for such an unbearably long time before. No wonder her body went crazy, when relief finally set in.

McCoy waited patiently for her to come off her high. Mesmerised by the display of emotions that coursed through her sweat-covered body, plainly visible on her glistening face. He’d never thought it possible for a single orgasm to last this long, but then, of course, he’d never teased a woman as long as Uhura had had to endure it by the hands, or rather the mind, of the obnoxious ambassador.

The doctor was certainly glad that his “cure” had worked and the poor woman had finally found the much-needed relief.

When Uhura relaxed at last, still breathing hard, opening her eyes with a grateful, if exhausted smile, and he could finally pull his hand away, he almost felt deprived.

They smiled at each other awkwardly for a moment, not quite sure what to say or do next, until Uhura found back to her old, confident and humorous self again.

“I guess I needed that,” she chuckled, stating the obvious and making McCoy laugh.

Then she added more seriously and with heartfelt gratitude, “Thank you, Doctor, for doing this for me. And for doing it so graciously. And so well, too,” she couldn’t resist adding as an afterthought, making the doctor blush bashfully, something she’d never seen before.

“Seriously, Doctor. You saved me. I owe you big time.”

But before the doctor could respond, she suddenly shuddered and started to convulse again, lifting disbelieving eyes to McCoy.

“No!” she wailed despairingly, “This can’t be happening! How sadistic can even that bastard of an ambassador be?”

McCoy was momentarily speechless, but found his voice again after a moment.

“What were the ambassador’s exact words again?” he asked as he watched Uhura frantically press a hand between her legs through her uniform skirt.

“’Can’t help myself’,” Uhura croaked.

“Yes, I know. Also, ‘to find help elsewhere’. But was that it?” McCoy gently urged. “Or did he say anything else?”

“’Third time lucky’,” she ground out between spasms, her whole body jolted by uncontrollable arousal again.

The doctor snapped his fingers.

“That’s it!” he exclaimed excitedly. “We just have to do this again!”

His expression sobered, when he caught Uhura’s incredulous look.

“You’re prepared to do this again, Doctor? Twice?” she asked hoarsely.  

“Well, in for a penny, in for a pound, as they used to say in the olden days,” he grinned wryly. “I can hardly leave you high and dry now, can I?”

“Thank you, Doctor,” she whispered, too weak and needy to protest anymore, and grateful for his offer to ‘treat’ her again.

“Just lie back down, Lieutenant, and enjoy the ride,” he joked, earning him a stern look from the communications officer.

“Sorry, Uhura,” he added contritely, pulling clean surgical gloves over his hands, “I didn’t mean to make fun of you. I’m just trying not to feel too awkward here.”

She nodded, smiling weakly, and tried not to think about how much she was actually looking forward to his skilful touch.

When she was lying on her back again, digging her fingers into the sides of the biobed and involuntarily grinding her hips, she felt McCoy’s hands gently push up her skirt before resting his fingers on her hips once more.

He was so careful and considerate, wonderful qualities she usually loved in a man, but right now, she just wanted to shout at him to please get on with it already.

After another tantalisingly long moment, he eventually let his hands glide towards where she so desperately needed them, making her gasp with desire when he gently spread her outer labia with one hand while slowly zoning in on her clit with the fingers of his other hand.

She thought she’d never longed for anything as much as she now longed for him to touch her swollen nub, and when he finally did, her whole body shuddered with the pleasure of the sensation.

Like before, he let his nimble fingers dance deftly over her most sensitive spots, sending delicious ripples of lust though her body. But while her desire was rapidly rising to unprecedented heights, she could feel herself drifting further and further away from relief.

McCoy obviously noticed the difference, too, because when she managed to open her eyes and look at him through the haze of her horniness, he frowned at her questioningly.

“Not working, is it?” he asked quietly, his disappointed face almost making her laugh.

“No,” she shook her head, unable to hide her growing despair, imploring eyes boring into his, nearly breaking his heart.

Judging from her wild bucking and animalistic grunts, she was in no state to contribute any useful ideas anymore. Finding a solution was totally up to him now, he realised, thankful that the absurdity of the situation somewhat took his mind off his own aching need.

“Maybe we need a different approach this time, a new sensation,” he speculated, while making sure his fingers kept rubbing her clit at a steady pace, having tried to slow down a couple of times, only causing her to frantically claw at his hand. But Uhura was already too far gone for any helpful input.

The easiest thing to elicit a new sensation, it occurred to him, was to simply remove the gloves. He felt bad about having to stop his ministrations momentarily in order to do so, mouthing, “Sorry, my dear,” when the communications officer let out a remonstrative wail.

She was, however, immediately compensated for her anguish, when she felt the touch of his bare hands on her skin.

Briefly trailing his fingers up along the inside of her thighs, making her tingle all over, he went straight back to the centre of her desire, his first light tap on her clit sending a bolt of lightning through her. Her whole body tensed at the intensity of the sensation, and she bucked wildly, letting out the loudest cry yet.

Satisfied with her reaction, McCoy gave her a moment to recover, then continued his skilful ministrations, trying out various techniques, amazed, yet again, at her responsiveness. And annoyed at his own, which was really becoming a nuisance.

After a while, Uhura felt her unbearable frustration give way to enjoyable desire, and was finally coherent enough again to thank McCoy for finding yet another solution to her predicament.

“Thank you for not giving up, Doctor,” she rasped, her voice rough from groaning and squealing.

“Don’t mention it,” he replied with an almost smug smile, unsuccessfully trying to hide the pride in his masculine prowess while making a mental note to give her some water to drink as soon as he had his hands free again.

He knew, of course, that the decent thing to do would be to take her to orgasm as quickly as possible. But watching her writhe so ecstatically under his fingers a little longer was just too tempting.

Now that he had the once-in-a-lifetime chance to pleasure her, he might as well make the most of it.

How he’d have liked to kiss her, caress the rest of her glorious body! But there was no way he could do that, of course. He’d promised her and himself to keep this as professional as possible. Anything else would really be unethical. But even so, he could still show her what the good old reliable country doctor could do with his hands.

On impulse, while never stopping his light tapping and drumming on her clit, he slowly trailed one finger of his other hand along her pussy, ever so gently circling and pushing against her entrance.

Uhura’s eyes went wide at this incredible sensation, and an excited gasp exploded from her lips, prompting McCoy to probe a little deeper.

She purred and sighed as McCoy once again managed to drive her desire to the next level, bestowing all those multiple sensations on her. How could she never have seen before what a sensuous man he was? And more to the point, how would she ever again be able to settle for anything less, once this whole mortifying ordeal was over?

She was jolted out of her thoughts when his probing finger hit her G-spot, teasingly curling against it, clearly knowing exactly how to elicit maximum effect, almost making her fly off the handle.

“Oh my God! You’re killing me!” she groaned, arching and bucking like a maniac, her hypersensitive body trying to get away from the tantalising stimuli on both her clit and G-spot.

“Actually, I’m trying to do the opposite here,” McCoy replied softly, skilfully following her every move with his fingers to keep teasing the exactly right spots. Uhura could hear the smile in his voice. “But you might as well enjoy it.”

“I don’t think, I’ve ever enjoyed anything more,” she breathed, barely able to speak any longer. “This is incredible.”

When she’d come the first time, McCoy’s plan had been, under the pretence of cleaning up and giving her privacy, to escape to his office as soon as possible in order to take care of his own straining erection that he just hadn’t been able to suppress. Sure, he was a healer, but he was also a man. And this ‘treatment’ was certainly more than any doctor could administer without being affected.

But when she’d clung to his hand, clamping her thighs around it, unthinkingly using it to ride out the waves of a seemingly endless orgasm, the chance for that had passed.

Then the second ‘phase’ had started so abruptly, and all thoughts of taking care of his own needs had gone straight out the window.

This time, however, he didn’t even think about getting away, but let her ride out her orgasm on his gently pulsing finger, using his remaining fingers to lightly keep teasing her clit until she couldn’t take any more and sank back on the bed, completely blissed out.

When he gently slipped his hand out from between her legs, she opened her eyes the tiniest bit and murmured, “You’re a dark horse, Dr. McCoy. You sure know what you’re doing!”

And when he grinned, an endearing mixture of pride and embarrassment on his face, she let her gaze slide down to where his crotch was pressed against the biobed, subtly grinding against the edge to stave off his own increasing need.

“Oh Doctor! I’m sorry!” Uhura cried out. “I was so caught up in my own ordeal, I wasn’t thinking what this would do to you! Will you let me help you out in return? I certainly owe you.”

“Absolutely not!” he blustered, his face flushing a deep red. “You came to me for help, and that’s what I did. No more, no less. We really need to keep this professional.”

Uhura couldn’t help but smirk.

“As professional as possible,” he relented grumpily. “But I could never take advantage of your predicament. I couldn’t live with myself if I did.”

“I know,” she smiled, believing him without a doubt and feeling herself falling even deeper for this impossibly sexy gentleman.

All thoughts about his pulsing erection, however, were forgotten when Uhura started to moan and spasm again, signalling the beginning of the third and hopefully last ‘phase’.

There was no question of what to do anymore. Without hesitation, Uhura lay back down, spreading her legs and twitching in anticipation, as McCoy mentally prepared himself for the next round.

“Here we go again,” he said smilingly, and Uhura chuckled between her moans, whispering, “So sorry, Doctor! But thank you!”

Somehow it wasn’t as awkward as before, the whole episode having brought on a new feeling of intimacy between them. Uhura’s heart skipped a beat as she felt the doctor tenderly caress the inside of her thighs before spreading them a little wider.

But as soon as he touched her most sensitive spot, making her sigh with pleasure, and gently inserted a finger, being rewarded with a low moan and a lazy sway of her hips, they both noticed quickly that the tell-tale hypersensitive jerk was missing. Again.

“I guess I’ll have to come up with something new yet again,” McCoy sighed, but it was clear that he was accepting the challenge.

They exchanged glances, and even though Uhura was already lost in a haze of unbearable lust again, he could see the gratefulness in her eyes. The way she trusted him moved him deeply. They were in this together, and he would get her through this. Uhura’s own little private pon farr.

“Why don’t you just take me, Doctor?” she purred, “I’m going crazy here, and that way you’ll find relief, too.”

“We’ll keep that in mind as a last resort, Uhura,” he smiled, slowly circling her clit with a finger, then moving on to tapping it with two fingers ever so lightly, teasingly, trying to find the right touch that would send her over the edge again.

But all that did was increase her arousal to unbearable heights that felt like eternal, unsatisfiable ecstasy to her.

“Please Doctor, this is cruel, I can’t take any more,” she moaned huskily.

“Ok, let’s try this then,” he said tentatively, moving to the low end of the bed to stand between her legs, grasping her hips with both hands and pulling her towards him in one swift move.

Then he bent down, burying his head between her trembling thighs.

“Oh my God, Doctor, I can’t ask this of you!” Uhura cried out, as the feeling of his teasing fingers, spreading her labia apart at an agonisingly slow rate, almost made her pass out.

But when she jerked and let out a choked scream at the first breeze of his breath blowing softly over her dripping wet clit, they both knew this was it. The new sensation that would hopefully lead to her third and final release.

Encouraged by the proof of having found the right way, McCoy let his tongue trail softly along the insides of her folds, gently pushing inside and lightly brushing against her clit.

The touch was electric, her reaction tremendous. Pressing hard against his mouth, she clenched her thighs tightly around his head. Losing her mind as well as all sense of time and space, all she could do was give herself to him completely and trustingly.

Feeling the situation get out of hand, McCoy fought hard to keep control. Her taste, her smell, her passion, were intoxicating, and he had to remind himself sternly, that none of this was her choice but the consequence of a cruel and sadistic curse.

He had to be careful not to get carried away. And yet, this was so much more than taking care of a patient or even helping out a friend. This was the third time in a row, that his ministrations had rendered this gorgeous woman ecstatic. And for some reason he wanted to excel himself, wanted this to be the most exciting, most satisfying experience of her life.

For every little flick of his tongue, a squeal escaped her. Every time he so much as breathed, he was rewarded with a twitch and a groan. The tip of his tongue made her scream out in blissful agony, and the strokes of the flat of his tongue nearly made her arch off the bed.

Uhura gripped the edge of the biobed, her fingers ineffectively scrabbling around for purchase, her desire burning so hot inside her, she thought she might die.

The way he licked and nibbled and sucked and hummed, turning her innards to mush and her clit into an erupting volcano, was almost more than she could take.

If she’d been impressed by the skill of his much-lauded surgeon’s fingers earlier, they paled in comparison to the sheer magic of his tongue. She’d had skilful lovers before, but she’d never been brought to the brink of insanity so splendidly before.

And even though she couldn’t wait for this embarrassing and crippling ordeal to be over, part of her wished McCoy’s ministrations would never end.

Who would have thought the curmudgeonly doctor had it in him? How many women had he blessed with his skills before her? And not in the line of duty, but because he desired them, was maybe even in love with them?

The very idea almost blew her mind. If this was what he did for a patient, how much more would he do for the woman he loved?

That thought, along with the additional stimulation of a gentle finger starting to tease her G-spot again, pushed her over the edge for the third and hopefully final time.

She was a little surprised and more than grateful when the doctor didn’t pull away, but kept on licking and sucking, allowing her to arch and grind and press against his face as wave after wave of indescribable pleasure washed over her, drinking her dry, until she fell back, boneless and utterly exhausted.

Feeling lightheaded, McCoy straightened up slowly, his knees weak, his face burning with bliss and shame and Uhura’s juices, hardly believing what he’d just experienced.

Unable to restrain himself any longer, yet in no position to deal with his aching erection that almost burst his pants, he’d actually come in his uniform trousers. Like a freaking teenager!

This had never happened to him before, not even in his youth, his only excuse being the aggravating circumstances of this absolutely weird and unusual situation.

Trying to think of the best way to excuse himself quickly in order to go and clean up this mess, he looked down at Uhura and found her fast asleep, the sight of her slender body, out cold on the biobed, filling him with the warmest feeling of affection.

Barely able to tear his eyes from her lovely face, blissed out and peaceful in sleep, he found a blanket and tenderly tucked her in.

Still a little unsteady on his legs, he stalked back to his office to clean up and find some spare clothes, all the time wondering how to face Uhura when she woke up again.

He’d always enjoyed their easy banter and mild flirting, safe in the knowledge of their friendship. But they could hardly go back to that after this, could they?

It was going to be awkward between them. For the time being, at least. But it had been worth it, he suddenly thought, and not only because it had saved her. Whatever the consequences, seeing and feeling and tasting her like this had definitely been worth it.

Feeling an exhilarating rush of happiness rippling through him, he stepped towards the doors, ready to face the world again. And Uhura. Only to find her gone already.

He could understand her motives, of course, comprehending her need to get away from him as quickly as possible. She was certainly mortified now. Possibly even disgusted with what he’d done to her. He should have thought harder, should have come up with a more acceptable cure. She had trusted him. And he’d let her down.

It was only mid-afternoon, but he felt incapable of finishing his shift, the weight of his conscience almost crushing him. Uhura had come to him looking for help, and he’d betrayed her trust. And his oath.

Ignoring the questioning glances of his staff, he hurried out of sickbay, heading straight for the safety of his quarters, wanting to stay there and hide forever.

Part 3: The Reward

Uhura was pacing the tiny space of her quarters. She was so very tired and exhausted, but there was no way she could rest now. Her mind was in turmoil.

When she’d woken up in sickbay earlier and, after the first blissful moment of ignorance, it had all come rushing back to her – the ambassador, the curse, and that Dr. McCoy had practically just been forced to have sexual interactions with her, she’d panicked and just run off, grateful that the doctor wasn’t around.

Just thinking about it now was so embarrassing, she had no idea how she could ever face him again. Although the idea of not seeing him again, apart from being more than unlikely living on a starship, hurt just as much. She’d never realised before how much McCoy’s friendship really meant to her. How much she enjoyed and relied on his comforting presence on the bridge and in her life.

She’d always had a soft spot for the kind and gentle doctor, who kept boosting her confidence with his charming compliments, and so often made her laugh, listening to him lecturing the captain or bickering with Spock. But after the events of today, she seemed to have developed a proper crush. The memory of his gentle hands, and what they’d done to her, sent hot waves of desire through her body. Not to mention his lips and tongue.

But it wasn’t just that. Although it was all still a bit of a blur, she also vaguely remembered the soft blue eyes, watching her so intently in an effort to give her exactly what she needed. And the determination to do whatever it took to help her. He was that kind of doctor, of course. She’d been witness to his devotion as a healer numerous times before. But it had seemed even more than that in this case. The way he’d touched her, looked at her, had made her feel like more than just a patient to him.

Then again, maybe that had just been wishful thinking on her part. Her way of dealing with the embarrassment. She definitely needed time to think about it all. Do a little soul searching. Examine her feelings for the doctor, now that she was no longer under the ambassador’s spell.

Suddenly she felt bad for having run off like that, and it occurred to her that he might actually think she’d fled because he’d done something wrong. That would be just like him. He’d been quite anxious about the whole thing being unethical in the first place, if she remembered correctly. And yet he’d gone through with it to put her out of her misery.

She definitely needed to set things straight. And fast, too. After all he’d done for her, the last thing she wanted was for him to feel bad about it. Maybe she could even do something towards returning the favour, a little voice in her head piped up, suddenly remembering the effect this whole affair had actually had on him, too. He’d tried to deny it, of course, but the tell-tale bulge in his trousers had been quite impressive. Maybe there was a chance for more than friendship, after all?

Before she could lose her nerve again, she left her quarters in order to return to sickbay. And when a slightly bemused Christine told her that McCoy had left in a hurry, and in an extremely bad mood, she headed straight for his quarters, hoping to find him there.

******

McCoy was lying on his bed in the dark, depressed and worried, his mind running over the events of the past hours on a repeat loop.

How could he have let himself get into this? How could he have been so irresponsible and unethical? And above all, what was he going to do about it? How could he fix this? Would Uhura ever be able to forgive him? Would he ever be able to forgive himself and work as a physician again?

Being a healer, taking care of people, that was all he’d ever wanted. It was his life. And yet, this time, he’d gone too far, had betrayed his patient’s trust in his endeavours to help, to heal.

How could he ever look Uhura in the eye again and not feel like having violated her. A lonely tear ran down his face as he thought of the lovely lieutenant and how he might have taken that happy, confident spark from her eyes for good.

His only option was to apologise to her and then request transfer to another ship ASAP. Maybe, if she didn’t have to see him anymore, she could heal again, regain her equilibrium. And yet, just the thought of leaving the Enterprise sent another tear down his cheek.

Just then, his door buzzer went off, but he decided to simply ignore it, not wanting to deal with whoever was out there interrupting his misery. A moment later, Uhura’s melodic voice made him jump off the bed.

“Can I talk to you, Doctor?”

He briefly considered refusing to let her in, afraid that being alone with him in his quarters would compromise her even further, but eventually decided that that would be rude. She was an adult and coming here had been her choice, after all. No one had forced her to.

Turning up the lights, he quickly slipped on a blue uniform tunic for a more formal appearance, and went to meet her at the door, where he nearly collided with her, as she eagerly rushed in.

“I’m so sorry I ran off like that,” she gushed, “but when I woke up and remembered everything I’d just put you through, I simply didn’t know how to face you again and took the coward’s way out.”

After she’d let out this torrent of words, she seemed to deflate, looking up at him expectantly. But he was too flabbergasted to reply. His mind racing, all he could do was stare at her, baffled. Had she really just said that she had put him through this? The thought had never even occurred to him, making him almost giddy with relief.

When he didn’t react, her conscience grew even heavier, and she felt the need to further explain herself.

“I was mortified, Doctor,” she went on. “You’d just done all those things for me, and I didn’t want to burden you with my confused feelings and mixed up emotions on top of that.”

“Uhura, I …,” he began hesitantly, gently putting his hands on her shoulders, his heart hammering against his ribs as he took in her anxious face and apologetic smile. “I just did what I had to. What was necessary to take away your … er … pain. None of this was your fault, you have nothing to be ashamed of. Or to be sorry for.”

Uhura cast her eyes down, moving in a little closer, and the heat of her body nearly took his breath away.

“What you did, how you made me feel, was unlike anything I’ve ever felt before,” she continued quietly. “And it meant so much more to me than just the gratification of my needs. But I needed to get away to sort out my feelings. Make sure I was no longer under the ambassador’s spell. I needed to be sure that what I felt was real.”

“What did you feel?” he asked breathlessly, his voice even deeper than usual, his hands gently squeezing her shoulders, pulling her even closer and gazing tenderly into her beautiful eyes.

Uhura let herself be drawn into his embrace, resting her forehead against his chest, and McCoy wrapped his arms around her, breathing in the sweet fragrance of her hair.

“I came here to show you,” she murmured softly into the fabric of his tunic. “To thank you and,” she paused, lifting her head to look at him again, her eyes taking on a mischievous glint, “to reciprocate.”

McCoy’s knees nearly gave way. This was all so unexpected, and yet felt like he’d waited for it all his life.

“You know, you don’t have to, Lieutenant,” he drawled, blue eyes shining bright with tender affection. Then, reaching out and lovingly cupping her face in his hands, he added, “And just so you know, I’d do it all over again in a blink, if you needed me to.”

Now she looked as if she was going weak at the knees, too.

“What if I needed you right now?” she whispered, stepping closer yet, and moulding herself against his body.

Wrapping her arms around his waist, she could feel his hardness against her stomach. And pressing up against him, slowly rolling her hips from side to side, she smiled to herself, when she heard his sharp intake of breath.

Yes, she would reciprocate all right, she thought with relish. Every little touch, driving him as high as he’d lifted her, making him come as hard as she had. Three times at least. Or maybe more. There was no hurry, was there?

“Nyota,” he murmured softly into her hair, his breath coming out raggedly now, his usually so steady hands trembling a little, as his fingers tenderly rubbed her back, massaging her pert little bottom and pulling her closer into him. “What are you doing to me?”

“Whatever you need me to, Leonard,” she replied with a smile, her melodic voice low and soft, lifting her face to his lips and drawing him into the gentlest, deepest kiss, lips and tongues entwining, communicating all the emotions that were too hard to put into words just yet.

When they drew apart again after the longest time, she looked deeply into his eyes, holding his gaze and trying not to drown in their deep blue warmth.

“I’ve known and admired you for so long now, Leonard, but it took an abominable ambassador and an embarrassing curse for me to fully appreciate your kindness and devotion and finally see the wonderful, impossibly hot and sexy man behind the gentle doctor.”

Hearing her words, McCoy’s heart melted, only to be further reduced to a puddle around his feet, when she almost inaudibly added, “I think I might be in love, Leonard,” and shyly averted her eyes, hiding her face in the folds of his shirt.

Tenderly cradling her head against his chest, the doctor cleared his throat and tried to find his voice again.

“I’ve been in love ever since I first saw you, sweetheart,” he murmured, his accent thickening with emotion. “But I’d never have expected you to return the feeling in a million years. You’re a goddess, Nyota, and I’m just a plain old country doctor.”

Uhura smiled, hearing the familiar words.

“Stop belittling yourself, Leonard,” she admonished. “Or do you need to hear me praise your heart of gold, your good looks, your brilliant mind, let alone your magic touch, and I’m talking hands, lips and tongues here?”  

“Speaking of which,” he cut her off, clearly embarrassed by her praise, and let his hands glide down her sides. “Shall we deal with that renewed need of yours now?”

But Uhura stilled his roaming hands with her own, gently steered him over to his bed and pushed him down until he was lying on his back.

“I’m afraid this will have to wait for a while,” she said, her eyes twinkling mischievously. “A very long while, at that, since I have a lot of reciprocating to do first.”

She smirked, enjoying the lustful gleam in his eyes, followed by a drawn-out groan, when she put a firm hand over the bulge in his trousers and started to gently stroke him through the smooth material.

“Oh my God,” she breathed, impressed, “you’re so hard already! Is that for me?” And grinning widely, she innocently fluttered her eyelashes at him.

He just rolled his eyes and groaned some more, pressing against her hand, desperate for more friction.

“Stop the teasing, woman,” he growled, his voice full and deep with desire, grabbing both her hands and pulling her onto him until her face was only inches from his, her light frame pressing down on his body pleasantly.

McCoy let go of her hands and put his arms tightly around her, sighing with the sheer pleasure of holding her close. But when his lips found hers, brushing them tenderly, she pulled back resolutely and lifted herself off him again.

Before he could protest, she put a gentle finger to his lips and whispered, “Later, sugar. There’ll be a time for all of this later. But for now, I want you to relax and just,” she paused, chuckling a little, “enjoy the ride. You’ve more than earned it.”

“But I can’t!” he whined. “I need to touch you, kiss you, feel you!”

“Shush, sugar,” she remained firm, pinning his hands to the bed. “It’s my turn now. A lot of reciprocating, remember?”

McCoy exhaled deeply, feeling his erection straining ever more painfully against his trousers, and getting the impression that Uhura was actually enjoying fuelling his growing need.

He lay back obediently, still overwhelmed by the idea that the amazing communications officer, who’d been the object of many a daydream over the years, might actually be in love with him, too.

“Wait, Uhura,” he called out suddenly, sitting up again, “maybe we should wait. Maybe this is still an aftereffect of the ambassador’s spell. I wouldn’t want you to do anything you might regret later. You’re too precious for that.”

Uhura sat up straight, incredibly touched by his thoughtfulness, folded her hands in her lap and looked at him pensively.

“You know, Leonard,” she said after a while, “you’re right. We can’t know why we feel what we’re feeling. We probably never will. But I do know that what I feel for you is true, has been true for a long time, even if I didn’t realise it until today. Or maybe just didn’t dare to admit it. And your offer to wait a little longer right now is just another proof of your wonderful personality to me.”

She paused briefly, meeting his expectant eyes with a loving gaze, and tenderly took his face between her hands.

“I’ve always loved this face,” she continued softly, “so handsome and expressive. And these arms, so strong and gentle.”

She let her hands trail down his arms in a gentle caress, then put her right hand tenderly on his chest.

“And this heart, so kind and compassionate. Did you know that you virtually glow with kindness? You’re the most beautiful man I’ve ever seen, inside and out.”

She fell silent again, a soft smile playing around her lips, as she watched him wipe an embarrassed hand over his eyes.

McCoy was too choked up to say anything. Her words had deeply touched him, he couldn’t remember ever being told anything more beautiful. Could this be real? He certainly had a lot of love to give, even though he wasn’t very good at showing it, feeling safer hiding behind a shield of irritation and grumpiness. But Uhura had looked behind that shield, wanting to see the real him. Maybe her appreciation of him had been the reason she’d dared to come to him for help with this delicate issue in the first place.

When she saw that the doctor wasn’t going to find his voice again anytime soon, she gently pushed him back down until he was lying flat on his back again, and shifted her attention back to the lower part of his body.

“Enough of the talking,” she murmured softly, “let’s get on with the reciprocating.”

The doctor gave up trying to find the right words, when her gentle hands, fiddling with the fly of his trousers, demanded his full attention.

Uhura deftly opened his trousers, freeing his dick and taking her sweet time to admire his throbbing erection in all its glory.

Only when he started to moan impatiently, about to touch himself with the need to stave off the rising heat, did she let her fingers crawl up the inside of his thighs, one hand stopping to gently play with his balls, while the other lightly enclosed the length of his shaft and began to jerk him off ever so slowly.

McCoy let out an almighty groan, thinking he might actually die from the intensity of this lustful sensation. He dug his fingers into the bedsheets, holding on for dear life as his hips ground and bucked, desperate for Uhura’s teasing touch to get firmer, stronger.

And just when he thought the waves of lust that rippled through his body couldn’t get any higher, she straddled his legs and bowed her head close to his pulsing erection. Keeping up the gentle teasing of his balls and shaft, she let the tip of her tongue run around his glans, almost making him jump out of his skin.

Spurred on by his strong reactions, she went on to lick the pre-cum from his slit, then let her tongue run slow circles around the edge of his glans, spending a tantalisingly long time on the spot where the foreskin was attached to it.

“God, Nyota,” he pleaded, “I don’t think I can hold out much longer.”

“But I’ve only just begun,” she countered, letting her lips slide up and down his shaft with every word. “How can you be so turned on already?”

McCoy could barely speak anymore, gritting out, “I’ve been turned on for hours, my dear, you know that very well!”

“Oh?” Uhura feigned surprise. “What about your professional distance, Doctor? I dimly remember you mentioning it, while I was just as desperate for relief as you seem to be right now.”

She’d removed her mouth from his cock to speak, and had gone back to teasing him mercilessly with the lightest touch of her fingers, enjoying the sight of him bucking and grinding like mad, begging her to finish him off with pleading eyes. Clearly remembering her own recent ordeal, Uhura was not going to let him off lightly.

“Nyota!” he whined, “Have mercy!”

She smirked, but took pity on him and picked up the pace, stroking him with a firmer hand.

Humming with relief, he cupped one hand around the fingers playing with his balls, squeezing a little, and used his other hand to set the pace for her strokes of his shaft.

“You know me, Nyota. I’d never tell a soul. Hell, I’ll never even talk to you about it again. But do you really think any man could do what I’ve done to you today and stay unaffected?”

Her hands slowed down again, eliciting an exasperated groan from him.

“Tell me more about how it affected you,” she asked, eager to hear him tell her all about his feelings while helping her out earlier.

Resigning to the fact that she wasn’t going to give him what he so desperately needed until he’d told her everything she wanted to know, he started to talk.

“What do you think, it did to me, woman?” he grumbled, surmising that a little dirty talk obviously turned her on. “Touching the private parts of the most beautiful woman I know, trying to get her off while not looking at her? Made me so horny I could hardly concentrate on pleasuring you!”

Uhura seemed satisfied with that, as she stopped the torturous teasing and began to jerk him off in earnest again. McCoy huffed out a relieved breath, feeling a toe-curling orgasm building inside him.

“Where were you when I woke up?” she asked before bending over his throbbing dick again and sliding it gently into her mouth, licking and sucking at first, then letting him push in deeper, swallowing him as far as her mouth could take him, lightly grazing him with her teeth all the way down, making him feel a desire he hadn’t known existed until now.

“That’s too embarrassing to even tell you,” he gasped, trying to answer her question in between jolts of unprecedented pleasure.

She let him slip out of her mouth again with a plopping sound, the cool air and her teasing lips on the head of his cock making him shiver.

“Did you have a need to take care of?” she asked, smiling wickedly, while mercilessly teasing the sensitive rim of his glans with the tip or her fast moving tongue.

“Nyota,” he grunted, exasperated, “I made you come three times, without so much as touching myself. I was going crazy there! I’m just a man, after all. I just couldn’t take anymore. I’ve never been so horny in my life!”

“So you went to your office to relieve yourself?” she continued her line of questioning, her hand emphasising every word with a strong, firm stroke, only to stop just as he was ready to shoot his load.

“Uhura! This is evil!” he cried out in dismay. “I know what you’ve had to go through today was torture, but it wasn’t my fault, I did everything to help. So please, don’t torture me like this, now!”

“Are you saying you did everything to make me come as quickly as possible,” she enquired with a mischievous grin, “or did you, by any chance, indulge in a little teasing yourself? I certainly can’t remember ever being more turned on in my life. And I don’t think the ambassador can take all the credit for that.”

“All I wanted was for you to at least get the most pleasure out of your ordeal,” he smiled at her sheepishly from lowered eyelids.

“And I certainly did,” she beamed at him, thinking once again what a kind-hearted man he really was.

“But you still haven’t told me what you were doing while I was out cold after you’d so expertly ‘treated’ me,” she persisted, not letting him get away that easily.

“Can’t you just let this go, Uhura?” he pleaded. “It’s really not something I’m proud of.”

“You’ve seen me at my worst, Leonard,” Uhura grimaced, “so how bad can it be?”

“I went to my office to clean myself up, Nyota,” he sighed, “because I came in my pants during your third orgasm. That’s never happened to me before. It was humiliating.”

Uhura didn’t bat an eyelid.

“More humiliating than asking your doctor to masturbate you?” Uhura chuckled, then exclaimed with the happiest grin on her face, “Leonard! This is the hottest thing I’ve ever heard!”

And before McCoy could even process her unexpected reaction, she went down on him again in earnest, forgetting everything else around her, fully focused on how to push him to his limits and hoping to give him the orgasm of a lifetime.

McCoy didn’t know what hit him. Uhura had stepped her relentless teasing up a notch or two, now subjecting him to a sweet torture he could hardly bear. Not for much longer, anyway. She seemed to pay attention to all his most sensitive spots at once, her dainty musician’s fingers now working him just the way he’d so often admired them dancing across her work panel on the bridge, skilfully working the controls. Her quick tongue swirling and licking in all the right places.

He lost all sense of time and space, his body and soul on fire, feeling like floating in liquid heat, drifting higher and higher into limitless ecstasy. Through the haze of his lust, he was dimly aware of Uhura watching him raptly, probably wondering if he was feeling anything like she had that afternoon, enjoying that the tables were turned and relishing every moment of causing him such delicious pleasure.

Just when he thought he couldn’t take any more, couldn’t endure another second of this divine torture, he felt her hands tighten their grip on his shaft, finding the perfect rhythm, while her lips enclosed his glans, firmly sucking in the head of his dick until he could feel himself pushing against the roof of her mouth.

That was when he seriously lost it. Babbling and cursing, he thrust hard into her mouth, holding her head firmly in place between his hands. He was tense and desperate, and it didn’t take many thrusts to send him hurtling over the edge. He would have liked to warn her, give her the chance to pull away, but it happened too fast.

With an almost inhuman sounding groan, he came into her mouth, spurting hot, sticky strands down her throat, his body convulsing with the sheer relief of his finally granted climax.

It took him forever to come down again, his body jolting with every flick of her tongue that accompanied her every swallow, draining his overwrought cock spurt for spurt. She sure knew how to draw out a man’s orgasm to eternity.

Uhura was captivated. Watching the doctor unravel right before her eyes was mesmerising. He surely was a never-ending well of surprises. She’d always known that he was a passionate man. In discussions and arguments, about his work, his friends, his patients, respecting and preserving life. But as unique as his skilful hands had been in taking her to unknown heights that afternoon, as unique was he now in receiving the pleasure she offered him, giving himself to her completely.

He was perfect. She wanted him. All of him. Needed him, even. Wanted to do this to him again and again. Her heart clenched with love for this extraordinary man. Yes, love. She loved him.

When McCoy had calmed down enough to become aware of his surroundings again, his gaze was met by Uhura’s big, beautiful eyes. And the warmth he saw there, took his breath away. Warmth and … what? Contentment? Happiness? Love?

Don’t get carried away, Leonard, he scolded himself, reaching out to stroke her hair.

“Had fun?” she asked, smiling at him with a mischievous gleam in her eyes.

“As if you didn’t know what you just did to me, woman,” he grunted, affecting a huff. Then he smiled at her affectionately.

“Nothing I’ve ever felt has even come close to this, sweetheart,” he assured her, pulling her closer, needing to feel her warm, exciting body against his. “You are incredible!”

Uhura straightened back up to sit next to him on the edge of the bed.

“Glad you enjoyed me reciprocating,” she chuckled, patting his arm lightly, “but we’re not even yet!”

“Uhura!” he grunted, dismayed, “This is not a competition! You know that, don’t you?”

She looked at him contritely. “Of course, I know, I’m sorry.”

McCoy’s face softened, and he swung his feet off the bed to sit next to her and put a comforting arm around her shoulders.

“Sweetheart, I get that you’re still bothered by what you’ve had to go through today,” he said quietly, his voice low and reassuring, “but do you remember what I just told you happened to me at the end?”

She nodded weakly.

“You might have been in more ... er ... pain, but I sure had my own embarrassment to deal with, too.”

“I know, Leonard, and I’m so sorry,” she sighed, leaning her head against his chest and relishing the new and safe feeling of his arms around her.

“Don’t be,” he murmured into her hair, his voice even softer now. “None of this was your fault. You were violated, Nyota. And I’m not pretending you’ll be completely over it anytime soon, either. There will be shame, there will be anger, probably even directed at me sometimes. But I promise, I’ll be there for you all the way. I’ll help you work through this. No one else will ever have to know.”

As the doctor brushed her forehead with a gentle kiss, Uhura snuggled deeper into his arms and was suddenly gripped by a fit of racking sobs. Out of shame, out of relief, out of anger or sheer exhaustion, she didn’t know. All she knew was that she couldn’t stop. And that McCoy’s arms around her, his hands tenderly rubbing her back and combing through her hair, his chin resting lightly on her head, felt so very, very good.

Apart from being the hottest man she knew, which had admittedly come as rather a surprise, he was just as caring and protective as she’d always believed him to be. Possibly even more so.

McCoy held her tight, patiently waiting for her sobs to ebb away, murmuring, “It’s ok, honey, I’ve got you,” over and over again.

It was still too soon, he knew. There would be more episodes like this, probably not all of them ending with him cradling her in his arms, unfortunately. But whatever she threw at him, he’d deal with, whatever she needed, he’d give to her. There was no doubt in his heart that he loved her. All of her.

He’d briefly felt guilty for succumbing to her sexual ministrations so easily. The man in him clearly having won over the doctor. But then he realised that this had most probably been exactly what she’d needed. To be in control. To make him beg for relief, just as she had earlier today.

Intellectually, she knew, of course, that it hadn’t been his fault. That he’d only been there to help. But emotionally, she saw him as the one who’d touched her, who’d had control over her orgasms. She really needed to reciprocate, he realised. And in more ways than one.

When her sobs had died down, he pulled back a little, holding her at arm’s length to look at her. Then, gazing deeply into her beautiful eyes, tenderly brushing the last of her tears away with his thumbs, he softly said, “From where I stand, it wasn’t all bad, though. You’ve just told me you might be in love. That’s more than I could ever have hoped for. I can easily live with that.”

And tilting his head to one side, he smilingly suggested, “Why don’t you let me take you on a date tomorrow? A proper, old-fashioned date. Dinner in the mess followed by a romantic stroll through the arboretum and drinks on the observation deck afterwards?”

“That sounds about perfect, Leonard,” Uhura smiled, her heart soaring, as the depths of his kindness were once more revealed to her. “I’d like that very much!”

“It’s a date then,” he beamed, “and we’ll just take it from there.”

Uhura nodded happily, her eyes glued to his handsome, kind face, blinking back new tears of love and gratitude. Truth was, she was more than ready to push him down on the bed again right now, wanting him so badly it hurt, desperate to finally feel him inside her.

But she knew, of course, that he was right. She needed time to work through the aftereffects of her violation. To be sure that what she felt was real and not just her assaulted libido talking. It was the least he could ask for. He deserved that. They both did.

And with a content sigh, grateful for his integrity and blissfully safe in the knowledge that he would never betray her trust, she snuggled back into him, wrapping her arms around him tightly.

“Doctor, you’re the best,” she whispered, kissing him lightly on the lips.

“I’ll certainly try to be for you, Lieutenant,” he smiled, pulling her into a bear hug and feeling happier than he had in a very long time.

*******

Disclaimer: 

Nothing of or associated with Star Trek is mine – it all belongs to Paramount / ViacomCBS (or whoever else currently holds the rights). This is a work of fanfiction, no infringement intended.

[izzy-b-hands]

Dancer Chapter Two

Part Two coming at you right away, because I’ve been sitting on a monster version of this draft all as one for the last day or so! 

More of Eggsy, Emotions, Booty Shorts, and Working to Save the World! A bit of a mini interlude to cut this down into chapters better, and to ease us into Chapter Three, coming as soon as I can finish it (as well as the rest of the chapters, since I’ve no idea how long this might end up being yet!) 

Again, here there be NSFW things, particularly re: sex (violence will be coming later, it is a spy tale after all). Per usual, if that isn’t your thing no worries, but maybe skip this one!

My love to all who read/like/reblog!

Eggsy slipped inside, shut the green room door, and his eyes as he relaxed against it. He needed to decompress, to take in all of it, most of all Boniface...

“Well then. He is handsome, isn’t he? And lovely lips, among other things.”

Evan’s voice made him jump.

“Jesus! What are you doing in here?”

“Giving you your clothes back,” Evan said, and handed over the mesh top. “I already put our pieces away in the closet for you. I was going to say let’s get you dressed and home, but it looks like you’ll need a minute to calm down.”

Eggsy knew very well what Evan was speaking of, but didn’t want to address it. The aching of his cock was very present, he didn’t need to look down to know he was hard as a rock, despite never having really swung that way before. At least, not in a way it mattered. There had been the occasional crush on a good-looking friend or two, but none of them happened to be gay or bi or pan or questioning or queer in any way, so even if he’d wanted to explore, there hadn’t been the chance. Then he’d met Tilde, and he truly did love and was attracted to her, but this-

This presented the need for some thinking. And considering. And maybe a wank once he was in the safety of his new apartment in town.

“I didn’t mean to-I mean, I’ve never, with a man. I’m not against it, don’t get me wrong, I just never got a chance to try-God, I am saying a lot of things,” Eggsy stuttered.

Evan just smiled. “I’ve got to change too, so you just sit on that towel of yours here on the couch, and...think of England, or something. No judgement, I still have my moments with him where I just-”

Evan shivered, and shed his robe, letting it drop to the floor. “Almost. I told him never again, once I accepted this new title. And he was fine with that. But some days...let me put it this way. Normally, this would be illegal and just nasty, right? Fucking your employer. But he isn’t brutish, he doesn’t demand it. He does expect it, but he won’t do anything if you tell him no; he’ll just ask again the next night. I don’t know if that’s that much better, but it could certainly be worse. And wait until you have him; he knows what he’s doing.”

“I’ve never-” Eggsy started again.

“Even so,” Evan interrupted as he gathered his robe from the floor, and continued to strip out of his club garb, and into an Adidas sweat suit. “Just let him know that, and he’ll take things slow. He’s a romantic at heart anyway, so slow fits him just fine.”

“Good,” Eggsy replied, and gave up on ‘calming down’ as he grabbed new underwear, the sweatpants, a sweatshirt, and his Adidas from his bag. It made getting dressed interesting (and made Evan giggle) but he couldn’t get Boniface’s gaze out of his mind. On the stage, it had been predatory, but in his office? Sweet and soft and warm, and he didn’t know what to do with that.

Once he had his make-up off and his things packed again, he let Evan lead the way out.

“So, turns out we’re neighbors! All the better, I’m sure Boniface told you his rule?”

“No one leaves the club alone,” Eggsy replied. “Are people around here dangerous or something?”

Evan giggled. “No! But, if you do well enough, you gain fans, and having a second person there helps keep them at bay usually. They mean well, but they can get a little overbearing. After all, they won’t say they know you from the strip club, even though everyone in the neighborhood knows that’s the case. No, you’ll be ‘an old friend that just moved to town, and they’ve missed you for so long, wouldn’t you like to catch up?’ and shit like that.”

“Doesn’t sound too bad,” Eggsy remarked, and looked around the dark streets. “Quiet now.”

Evan nodded. “Every town has something about it, you know? But I like it here. Warm enough that even the winter is mild, a good job, a nice apartment, and good people all around.”

“And friends?”

Evan nodded again, slower this time. “Yeah. I mean, most of the other dancers were my friend until I took the management position thing. Now...well. You know how it is. Even an office that isn’t like, an office, has that workplace politics bullshit. So, they’re all not talking to me really now, unless it’s work-related.”

“Well, I think you’re a great manager,” Eggsy said softly. “And, I’d gather a good friend too. I mean, we’ve just met, but, I don’t know. You helped me, and you probably didn’t have to. Thank you for that, by the way. The clothes, and hyping me up when I was out there on the stage. It made it all easier.”

Evan pulled him into a hug as they walked on. “Thank you. It makes me feel better, hearing that. I don’t want you to feel like you have to say it just because I’m like, the mother hen of the dancers now-”

“Not at all,” Eggsy interrupted, and he meant it. “I truly just think you seem like a nice person, who I’d like to get to know.”

Evan kissed his cheek, and smiled. “Okay. But just friends. I know he told you, and you probably don’t even see me that way, but just to clarify...I mean, he won’t let you have a boyfriend, girlfriend, whatever, while you work for him. He wants your mind on the work, the club, him, at all times. He’s a workaholic, but to a good end result. So it’s worth it, I promise.”

Eggsy nodded, and followed Evan up the stairs of a white building, and into a hall that led finally to their doors.

“See, I’m 206, and you’re 207!” Evan chirped, and handed Eggsy a key. “Keep that safe, they don’t let us make copies. Now, I’ve got to head in and get some beauty rest, but I’ll be up for a bit yet. So if you have any questions, concerns, or if you need to talk some more about you-know-who and his effect on you, just knock on my door.”

“Thank you,” Eggsy replied, and waited for Evan to go inside before opening up the door to his own apartment.

The inside was fairly bare, but it had the basics: a couch, a TV, fridge, stove, a not terrible looking mattress on the floor of the one bedroom, and a bathroom that seemed to be in working order.

He dropped his bags in the bedroom, but not before taking the earpiece back out and turning it on. “Merlin? You awake?”

“Hm? Oh, yes. Just waiting for your call, actually. Watching some soap opera thing or something, I’m not really sure what the whole plot line is but I’m invested now,” Merlin replied absentmindedly.

“Good. It’s all gone well, so far. He likes me, and I start with the floor work tomorrow night. Er, later today, I guess,” Eggsy said, catching the time on the clock as he sat on the living room couch.

“Glad to hear it. Keep the earpiece in your bag, and keep that somewhere safe, just in case you need my help,” Merlin said. “Now, did you need to talk at all? I know earlier, you were a bit panicked, so if you need-”

“It’s a lot,” Eggsy sighed heavily. “And half of it, you really shouldn’t have to hear. I don’t know who I should tell, if anyone.”

“But you need to talk it out to someone,” Merlin said. “And I’m offering myself up for it. I know you can’t hear it, but I just clicked the TV off. Go on, spill.”

“I don’t know where to start,” Eggsy muttered. “Tilde is pissed at me for this mission for just...every reason. I have Roxy staying with her, to keep her safe and to show her, well, that I love her. That I want her looked after while I’m gone. But she wouldn’t even talk to me before I left for the shop, and it’s been like this ever since the mission first came up. She wanted someone else to go, not me.”

“Is it just the stripping she doesn’t like?”

“I think so,” Eggsy answered. “But...I don’t know how else to say this, so I’m just going to. But I’ve occasionally fancied a mate here or there, right, whatever, never...played about though, I met Tilde and that was that. This club owner, Boniface, expects us to fuck him to keep our slot as a dancer, and I thought that would end that mission right here, but no, he kissed me tonight and-”

His breath caught in this throat. “I’m still thinking about it, and I’m still half-fucking hard from it. I’m not saying it means I don’t love Tilde or find her unattractive, I just-”

“You weren’t expecting it,” Merlin interrupted softly. “You thought any feelings like that were pushed away because you have Tilde. And now you’ve been fighting with her, and someone’s treating you romantically and kindly and it riled you up, and you don’t know what to do about it.”

“Yeah.”

Merlin cleared his throat, and sighed. “It might just be as simple as you like more than just girls, but it sounds like you already know that and have known it for awhile. And that doesn’t have to affect your marriage, and I know you know that, but I’m going to say it anyway, because I think you want to hear it. You’re worried that if things go sour with Tilde-”

“Things changed,” Eggsy interrupted, desperately. He’d been dying to talk to someone, anyone about it all for months, and now that the flow had started he couldn’t stop it. “I mean, we’re still great friends, fantastic friends. We have fun together. But...sex just sort of stopped. She claimed she just wasn’t feeling it, and I guess I haven’t been either, and it isn’t like that should break us up, there’s more to relationship than that. But if she’s lying to protect my feelings, and she really just isn’t into me as anything other than a friend...”

He shrugged. “She deserves to be with someone who can give her everything. Friendship, sex, and who can be a proper prince too. She wants so badly for me to be able to go out and be at events with her, but if I do that, I couldn’t do this. And I can’t just sit in a palace, Merlin. I love this, and I can’t ever see giving it up. So I can’t be seen, I can’t go out to events where someone could somehow recognize me or I could be made a target, and she gets it but at the same time...she doesn’t, if that makes any sense.”

He couldn’t see Merlin, but he could envision the sage and slow nod he did whenever he was thinking through a problem. “It does. So, let’s say you do divorce after this mission. Let’s say worst case scenario: the strip club thing is a deal-breaker for her along with everything else you’ve just mentioned. What do you feel about that?”

“I’d miss her,” Eggsy murmured. “I’d still want to be her friend, to hang out with her and do our usual things. Our movie nights, and board game nights and all that domestic shit that we both make fun of but we both love. But if she’d be happier...if it would mean not arguing with her...it would hurt, I can’t say it wouldn’t. But I wouldn’t stop her. I’d just ask that. To still be her friend.”

“Do you think you will sleep with him? Boniface?”

Eggsy found himself shrugging again, though he knew the answer. “I have to, I think, in order to keep working there. To get close to him, to get the formula and any other intel I can.”

“Okay,” Merlin said slowly. “Do you want to? Like, say he told you that you wouldn’t necessarily have to, but he offered it anyway. Just a fun fling, even.”

Eggsy opened his mouth, but nothing came out at first. Then, a flood.

“I don’t know I mean...if Tilde was asking for a divorce at that point, then probably yes. I mean, I couldn’t cheat on her like that, even though she knows what these missions sometimes entail, but she really doesn’t like it and who can blame her? Anyone else would react the same, I’m sure, but if her and I were...done, I guess, back to being just friends who also failed a marriage, Jesus Christ how terrible does that sound, then yeah.”

He sighed, and rubbed at his eyes. “Oh my god. Yeah. I’d say yes. He’s gorgeous, Merlin, if I could only show you a picture.”

“He’s got a picture of himself on the club website,” Merlin said. “I can see what you mean. I mean, I’ve got my type, you know that. But it’d be hard to kick him out of bed, eh? Very pretty, with the lips and the eyes like that. Are they really that blue?”

Eggsy nodded, then remembered Merlin couldn’t see him. “They are. His lips are so soft; oh my god what am I saying. This isn’t fair to Tilde; I should just call her now and...I don’t know. What would I even say?”

“For now, I think you just need to sleep,” Merlin replied gently. “You’ll do what you have to for the mission, Tilde knows that as well as any of us. If after, there are...more feelings and things to deal with, you’ll deal with them. You and Tilde will talk, and figure out what you both want and need, and go from there. Okay?”

“Okay,” Eggsy said, but it felt anything like okay. He felt something like light-headed over it all, not sick but off-kilter. It was so much at once.

“Alright,” Merlin said. “Get some sleep, and we’ll talk tomorrow after your shift, unless you need me sooner. Sleep well.”

“You too.”

He went to change into something else, then realized their wardrobe had been so low on things appropriate for the mission, that he hadn’t found anything to wear for pajamas. He’d completely forgotten about it, in fact.

So he checked the mattress for bed bugs (clean, thankfully) then stripped, and flopped onto it naked before setting an alarm on his phone for later in the day. He tried to will himself to sleep, to think of anything but what was running through his head.

The last argument he’d had with Tilde before she’d stopped talking to him completely.

The moment onstage when he’d first caught Boniface’s eyes.

The feeling of Boniface’s lips on his and the way his hand had touched his jaw.

The last one was too much, and he could have screamed at himself for getting hard again. It wasn’t that it was for another man, but that it was for a villain of the world who happened to kiss like an angel, that he had a wife at home who maybe didn’t want to be his wife anymore, and this certainly wouldn’t help convince her that they should stay together.

The lube in his bag was not meant for this, it was meant for any situation but this. And he felt bad about using it, but more about what he was thinking about while he got himself off.

Boniface, in that gorgeously cut suit, but with his cock out and Eggsy on his knees in front of him. Mind, he’d never sucked cock before, but in his head Boniface was kind about it, telling him what to do, praising him for every motion. A hand in his hair, holding tight, but not so tight as to hurt. That same hand on his ass when he stood back up, kissing Boniface hard, the other reaching for his cock and stroking ever so gently and-

He was glad he’d brought the towel home with him. He wasn’t sure if he was supposed to, but he also hadn’t really checked for sure how many he had in the apartment, so it was handy to have now.

He cleaned the cum off of his stomach while his chest was still heaving. As good as it had felt, he didn’t want to think about it anymore.

Sleep came easy then, and he hated that it did.

[lucio-montague]

Coming Home | Ty & Lu

WHO: Tybalt Capulet & Lucio Montague WHEN: July 15, 2019 WHERE: Lucio’s apartment WHAT: Upon learning of Oz’s arrest, Tybalt commands Lucio to come home and takes care of him. Lucio does not know how to act. Words are said.

@ty-capulet

Tybalt

Ty knew that Lucio would not be happy when her came home. The man was too used to dealing with everything on his own. It didn't matter what Ty thought of Oz or his guilt (to be honest, he wasn't sure), if they were serious about their relationship, then it was his job to take care of Lucio.   But this wasn't about obligation. Ty needed this. He needed Lucio to know he could be relied on. That it was okay to share a burden. He knew he wasn't good at it but he wanted to be. So he waited for Lucio to return to his new home. He'd shed his suit for sweats and sat on the sofa with file filled with things he needed to reed over.

Lucio

Lucio was feeling a lot of things. Anger, sadness, disappointment, concern. Oz's arrest weighed heavily on him, and every moment that he was not drowning himself in work was time spent worrying about what was to come. And then there was Tybalt. Tybalt, who had commanded him to come home instead of working through the night. Who wanted to take care of him. When he entered the apartment, he toed off his shoes and walked in to find Tybalt on the couch. "Good evening, Lord Capulet," he said. "I'm going to take a bath." He'd, of course, take his phone with him so he could answer emails and read articles about Oz, looking for a way to spin everything to make Verona doubt Oz's guilt.

Tybalt

"Stop," Ty said, "You may have your bath but I want to speak with you first. Come here," he said, gesturing to the seat next to him.  "Before you object, I'm asking this of you. It would be much easier to issue a command. This, however, is a personal request."

Lucio

Lucio clenched his jaw. "Very well," he said, sitting down on the sofa next to Tybalt, crossing his legs and keeping his posture straight. "What would you like to speak about? There is a lot I'd like to get done this evening."

Tybalt

"That's what I would like to talk about. You cannot do this to yourself.  You will work yourself until you cannot function properly. You cannot help him if you do not take care of yourself. And if that means I have to be the bad guy and step in to stop you, so be it." Ty kept a concerned gaze turned toward Lucio. He didn't want to argue. "You aren't alone."

Lucio

Lucio felt a spike of irritation. "I can't imagine how I survived all these years without you forcing me to come home." He gazed at Tybalt. "I know my limits. This wouldn't be the first all-nighter and it certainly won't be my last. I own and run a fast-paced weekly magazine. I am an adult. And right now I have more than my work to handle." He didn't want to deal with anything lying underneath. He had tasks to do and they would keep him afloat.

Tybalt

"Did I ever say you weren't an adult or a successful one at that?" Ty said, trying not to match Lucio's irritation. "No, right now you are trying to do anything you can to not think about what you can't solve. You came to me when you thought I might need support. Why is that perfectly acceptable but it's not acceptable for me to do the same. If I'd used that same argument on you...would you have accepted it? I am also certainly an adult with many responsibilities."

Lucio

Lucio crossed his arms. "It's not that it is not acceptable, Tybalt. But I simply asked what you needed, and I put my work aside to give you that. I didn't demand you do anything. If I don't focus it can mean Oz being put away forever, and I can't deal with that." He gazed down at the floor. "I know you likely think me stupid for believing in his innocence. I know he is capable of unsavory things, but this was not him. If staying up so I can research and work on potential wardrobe choices for future trial dates helps him, I can't just stop because I'm tired. This is the person who gave me my life, Tybalt. I would have nothing without him."

Tybalt

"Lucio, you stopping for a moment does not mean that Oz will be put away forever. That's ludicrous. Yes, I am sure you will play an important role and that your help could be crucial...but his fate is not solely your responsibility." He sighed, wanting to reach out and knowing it wasn't the right time. "No, I don't think you are stupid. I think you are loyal and I can only hope my family views me the same way. Do I like the man? No. You know my feelings about him. I find him...well, unsavory is a good word.  But even I am not sure that he isn't innocent." That was painfully difficult to admit. "It's not that you want to stay up all night. It's not even that you will push yourself. But you are hell bent on fixing this yourself and that's not recognizing you have limits.  And whether you believe it or not, you aren't alone."(edited)

Lucio

"I know. I know I'm not alone. I know I have limits. I know I can't fix everything. Or anything maybe." Lucio was tired. He didn't want to deal with this right now. He rubbed the bridge of his nose, feeling a migraine come on. "Is that enough for you right now?" He didn't know what else he could say. It was all too much for him. He hated the idea of Oz locked away for something he didn't do. He wanted to cry and scream and punch things, but he couldn't.

Tybalt

Ty hated this. Hated watching Lucio suffer. "No, it's not. But it will have to be." Ty reached out finally, placing his hand on the back of Lucio's neck. "I know you don't believe this. I'm not sure I do. I spent a lot of time thinking I didn't need anyone. But I need you. There is nothing I wouldn't do if it meant sparing you pain." Ty had never been good with emotions. He wasn't sure where his ability to convey them was actually coming from. "Lucio, I love you. I didn't order you home to hurt you. Believe that."

Lucio

Despite his irritation, the hand to the back of his neck was comforting to Lucio as he tried to massage away the headache that was forming behind his eyes. He covered his eyes with his hand, feeling unforgivably emotional. Which grew more difficult to keep at bay when he heard Tybalt say those words. He turned his back to Tybalt. "Forgive me. I just need a moment." He couldn't let Tybalt see tears rolling down his face. He hadn't expected Tybalt to say that.

Tybalt

Tybalt mentally kicked himself for the moment he'd chosen. He wasn't even sure he'd consciously chosen. It had just come out of his mouth like he'd said it a million times before.  He kept his hand where it was, letting the submissive know he was still there. "I think it's me that should ask forgiveness. I didn't mean to add more...to this already emotional day."

Lucio

Lucio tried to steel himself, to make himself stop crying, but without his permission, more tears fell. “It’s fine. I’m fine. I was simply, caught by surprise. I’m afraid...I have started to cry and as I do not cry often...it will take some time...” He tried wiping at his eyes with his hand, but it did nothing. “Your feelings...are reciprocated...though I am not showing it well...”

Tybalt

Ty let out a sigh of relief. "Tears have never scared me before. I understand that they may be unwanted but maybe they are necessary. " His voice has softened, understanding all too well how difficult it was to feel helpless in the face of emotions.   "I know you will work tirelessly. I really do admire that. But for tonight, allow me to stay. Let me take care of you so that you can do what you need to do."

Lucio

Lucio hiccuped, his breath catching in his throat as he wept. Why was Tybalt so unexpectedly gentle with him? Why couldn’t he be the arrogant bastard Lucio had thought him to be? He was so unaccustomed to it, to being taken care of, to being treated gently. “Very well,” he replied. “I will...acquiesce for now...”

Tybalt

"I wouldn't have it any other way," Tybalt replied, unable to stop himself. It was hard to see Lucio like this. His submissive was so strong. This didn't diminish him. In fact, it humbled him a bit to know that this strong man allowed him to take some of his burden. Slowly, the hand at Lucio's neck moved so that he had his arm wrapped around his shoulders instead.

Lucio

When Tybalt moved to wrap an arm around him, Lucio gave up on quelling his tears and turned to look at his Dominant. “I’m sorry. I know I am...difficult.” He still wished he could work, but he was slowly giving in to his body’s exhaustion.

Tybal

Ty shook his head. "As if I'm not?" he mused. "Do not apologize for being you." He'd not mentioned the princesses message to anyone yet. But he had to tell Lucio. He owed him that. "I heard from the Princess already. She has...removed the second decree requirements. I know that is probably far from your mind at the moment...but maybe it will relieve some small amount of stress."

Lucio

Lucio sighed out an incredulous chuckle. They were both difficult, but Tybalt seemed better able to adapt to their life together. Lucio was still finding his legs in many ways. Letting himself be taken care of. Being his true authentic self, not the one he showed to the public. Crying. He used his sleeve to wipe at his eyes and cheeks again as Tybalt told him news of the Princess. "Oz has already lost his title, but I'm glad you get to keep yours. And we have confirmation that it was Oz she was truly going after."

Tybalt

"I suppose we do. Though it was clear from the beginning." He had to hold his tongue. If Oz had managed to keep his claim with Megan, that decree would never have happened. Though the Princess would have probably found another way to go after the man. "Now stop using your sleeve. Your dry cleaner will have a fit. Shall I run a bath? I'm occasionally useful."

Lucio

Lucio nodded his head, feeling solemn. "I'll replace the shirt. It doesn't matter." He sighed. "Yes, a bath would be nice." He wanted  to wash his face, wash away his vulnerability in this moment. "Thank you," he said to Tybalt. "I...love you." He hadn't exactly said it before, and he refused to lack intention in his words.

Tybalt

Ty wouldn't have said a word if Lucio hadn't said it back. It was enough that he'd acknowledged it. Tybalt took his hand and raised it to his lips in acknowledgement, pressing a soft kiss there. More could be said later. Right now, he had a bath to prepare.

[atypicalkataangist]

Bestowing Honour

Type: Oneshot [Angst]

Summary: One year after Aang’s death, his family returns to the place of his funeral to bestow honour on the late Avatar.

Word count: 2241

Author’s note: Hey guys. Today’s oneshot is actually something special for me. I used it as a vent for many emotions that were boiling up inside of me for the last while. I began writing this Oneshot about two weeks ago; It was the first anniversary of my Dad’s untimely death, who had died of pancreatic cancer last year. We visited my Dad’s grave and so many emotions were bottling up inside of me that I had to release them somewhere, and since something similar happened to the Avatar’s family, I couldn’t pass up the chance to weave my own thoughts, memories and words together with those of the characters in the story.

By the way, AtLA was pretty much the first thing i could really enjoy after everything that happened last year, and I’m very thankful for all the beautiful moments it could give me despite everything else.

So please enjoy this, and even if you don’t I understand, all I wanted to do is to write down my most intimate emotions, and I’m glad I did. This is enough sad stuff for the next while though, I’m looking forward to write about something fluffy finally again! But as you might have noticed by now, updates take a while.

Don’t forget to think positive, whatever may happen, guys; because remember what a wise man once said:

“When we hit our lowest point, we’re open to the greatest change.”

~ Dedicated to my Dad ~

The wind blew strongly at the southern cliff of yue bay. The sun hid behind a thick layer of clouds, the sky was coloured in a deep grey most of the time, only interrupted by brief seconds when the sun was given the opportunity to shine through the almost inpenetrable wall. After a short moment of sunshine however, it would go back into hiding, never to be seen again.

Neither of them had been looking forward to this day, but they all knew that it had to be done. One year ago, on this exact date, the Avatar had died. Avatar Aang, the last airbender, the bringer of piece, had met his demise after a long period of serious sickness. Even though the whole world seemed to be disconsolate about the great man's demise, his family of course was hit hardest. The last year had been an incredibly difficult time for the Avatar's wife and three adult kids; whereas the world seemed to overheap the late hero with honors like planning to build a gigantic statue of him in yue bay, or establishing an "Avatar-Aang-Memorial-Day", his family could only think about the person behind the Avatar, behind the politician, the bringer of peace.

The Avatar's burial had been a huge event, with hundreds of famous people from all around the world giving speeches, sometimes more personal and heartwarming like the one held by the Avatar's trusted friend and ally, Fire Lord Zuko, or sometimes more political and impersonal like the speech held by a nobleman from the earth kingdom, of whom Katara wasn't sure if he had actually been in the same room together with Aang just once while he was alive. According to his beliefs as an Air Nomad, his remains were cremated and his ashes handed over to the winds of yue bay, on the far end of a cliff not far from his lifelong home on air temple island. It had been a terrifying day for Katara. Even though hundreds, if not thousands of people expressed their more or less honest condolences to her, offering their help whenever she would need it, her inner instincts were just telling her to run. Run as far away as her legs would carry her. It had all been too much, way too much, and without the support of her children, she would have probably left, not bearing to witness the act of hundreds of people crying in remorse over someone they barely knew.

She had known him, better than all of them . She had loved him every day of her life. She had cared for him when he wasn't well, and she was by his side, she didn't leave him in his final days, holding his hand, watching the final bit of life leaving his frail body until his suffering came to an end. She had cried until there were no more tears to shed. She had loved him more than she had loved anything else, perhaps except for her children. She had spent her whole life at his side, going through ups and downs, highlights and crises together. They had saved the world together. They had rebuilt a culture. They raised three children together. They had been married for well over forty-five years. And they had endured ravage, destruction, wars, Appa's death, Iroh's death, rebellion, and so much more.

And all of that should've come to an end now? Because the universe decided that the world needed a new Avatar? A fresh start? With him, almost everything she cared about was taken from her, a part of her dying together with him. A part of her wished to die as well, to be reunited with him in the spirit world, to spend eternity at his side. But another part reminded her of her children, her first grandchild that was on the way, the fate of her husband's air nomad culture that lived on through the air acolytes and her son Tenzin. She secretly knew that her time had not come yet.

After his death, she didn't dare to return to their old home on air temple island. They had spent their whole lives together in that house, and there was nothing that didn't remind her of him. She needed to get out of there and never return. Many begged her to join them, like Zuko, who was more than willing to help one of his dearest and oldest friends with an apartment in the royal palace, or the ancient earth king who had always appreciated and cared for the Avatar and his family.

Nonetheless everybody knew where she was going. The day after his funeral, she took the first ship towards the south pole, her home, the only place where she had lived for longer than a few months without him by her side. Her birthplace. The place of her family, her culture, her ancestors. Her daughter Kya joined her, putting her life on pause, postponing the wedding with her fiancee. She couldn't let her mother alone in a time like that, so she cared for her for the next hard months. The late Avatar's wife barely spoke, sunken in dreams and memories, yet she appreciated her daughter's company. Her sons came to visit every now and then, at least relieved to know that she would be in good hands with Kya, but their lives kept them busy most of the time, Bumi being a general in the united forces and Tenzin being the head of a culture that had yet to be reborn. Of course Katara didn't hold a grudge against her sons. Whenever they asked if they should stay, she reminded them to get back to their duties, not to worry about their old mother.

The only positive thing, the only glimmer of hope and the only thing that finally caused her to leave the south pole once in the next year, was the birth of Tenzin's first child, Aang's and her first grandchild, a little girl named Jinora, who quickly turned out to be an airbender. It was the first time she felt something like hope again since the death of the Avatar. Yet again she felt incredibly remorseful that her husband was not there with her and his son to share this beautiful moment together, the birth of their first grandchild, the second air bender in the world.

The next months she spent at the south pole, at least returning to her usual behaviour prior to the traumatic experience. She didn't stop to teach her daughter expert water bending techniques, also training some younger waterbenders from the southern, as well as the northern water tribe. She began to slowly return to life again, regaining a purpose. Kya even caught her mother laughing from time to time, and that sound she hadn't heard for way too long was like music in her ears.

Nonetheless no day went by without Katara thinking about the love of her life. At night she often went for long walks, looking up to the sky, searching for symbols or signs as a piece of evidence for his presence, but there was nothing. Sometimes she even went out to ice fields where she had found him in the iceberg. On the day that changed her life. Where she held him in her arms for the first time. Where they exchanged their first words. Where they went penguin sledding together. She couldn't think back at this moment without tears immediately shooting up to her eyes. How much she missed him... It felt unbearable.

And now, one year after the worst day of her life, she had to return, only to be confronted again with the terrible place near the coast, where she had to scatter his ashes. At least no one else was present now, except for her children and her brother. She wanted to keep it in the family. It would be hard enough as it was.

The skies didn't seem to approve of their endeavor. Maybe it was Aang, desperately trying to let them know that he was still there; or maybe the spirits were raging again. In the end, it didn't matter anyway. It was right after noon when all of them had finally made their way to the small edge of the cliff , where nothing but a small memorial stone and a bronze plaque which simply said "Avatar Aang - 12 BG - 153 AG" gave an indication of a memorial for a great man.

They stood there in silence; Katara in the center, opposite to the memorial stone, framed by her brother and her daughter, with Bumi at Sokka's and Tenzin at Kya's other side. The wind didn't allow them to have the peace they deserved, howling and messing up their clothes and hair. By now Katara could even feel tiny raindrops against her skin. Without even realizing it, she bend the whole rain around them away, leaving them dry.

She watched her husband's memorial with hurt, painful eyes. She was the first and only one to talk. "Aang...", she barely uttered with a shaky voice, while her whole body began to tremble from grief, "we...we've been doing okay so far... but we miss you" She began to cry heartbreakingly,"...so ...so much..." Her family, her brother, her children instantly offered their support, barely capable to hold back their tears as well. She wasn't ready to be helped right now. Nobody could comfort her. Powerless, she dropped on her knees, the wind joining in to her howling, breezing through her greyish hair. She wasn't even strong enough to bend the rainwater away anymore. Her brother dropped right next to her, very gently holding her back while his tear-dimmed eyes tried to meet his sister's, gently drawing her into an intimate hug. Her crying became louder against her trusted brother's shoulder, turning into nerve-splitting howling as all the good and bad memories came back into her mind. "I... I can't do this...", she cried, repeating it over and over again.

Kya felt dizzy from the pain she felt and she could see within her mother. She felt helpless. Not even she could heal her mother's pain. Guilt, anger and pain rose up inside of her, causing her to tremble. A wave of tears broke out of her despite her efforts to hold it in. She was about to lose equilibrium, about to hit the ground, when her little brother noticed her dizziness and held her firm, pressing his grief-stricken sister against his shoulder, sniffing away tears of his own.

The only one standing alone was Bumi. Even though they didn't always come along greatly, he had loved his father very much, and he was in mourning for him after his death. He didn't want his family to notice, but now, after a whole year had passed, with so much happening in his own life, he had felt simply nothing when he came back to the place of his funeral. He knew that his father was sitting there somewhere, watching him and hopefully be proud of his son. But when his mother started to cry again, like on the same day a year back, heartshattering and nervewrecking, he couldn't help but feel somewhat angry. Maybe it was his soldier-like attitude that he had to learn while being in the forces; whatever you do, don't show weakness. Or perhaps he was angry at her, because she became so dependent on her husband being there for her, that now that he was gone, her whole life began to crumble and fall apart.

Though perhaps he was angry at himself for all those missed opportunities, perhaps for taking so much for granted in the past; for forgetting so many beautiful memories to make coping with the pain easier. For putting his own life about his mother's, leaving her and his sister alone, only to fulfill his own dreams, to live his own life.

Finally, a tear slipped out of his eye, the only thing indicating the turmoil inside of him. He stood there in silence as he tried to bring his thoughts in order, watching the memorial as he somehow tried to share his thoughts with his Dad, telling him about his deepest feelings.

He snapped out of his trance after feeling a hand touching his shoulder. It was his uncle who looked at him with weary eyes, trying to figure out if his favourite little nephew was alright inside. Not coming to a clear conclusion, he still decided to hug him.

Bumi closed his eyes. His hero's touch felt good, it reminded him of how his Dad showed his appreciation whenever he heard of his sons accomplishments in making the world a safer place. He missed moments like these. When he opened his eyes again, he saw his mother was back at her senses now, sitting in the wet grass. She looked almost childlike, despite being an older woman by now. The way she was sitting there, wiping away the last few tears with her wirstbone, not daring to raise her eyes to meet what was in front of her. Kya and Tenzin were sitting on her left; he decided to take place on her right, putting his arm around her back, gently rubbing her back in small, circular patterns. She leaned into his touch, and when he heard her calmly breathing again, he knew that one day they would be alright.

[the-truth-will-light-the-sky]

Music Headcanon Part One

The Chocobros listening to music feat. Insomnia and Leide Crew

The Chocobros feat. Veritas (OC)

Music would be something like: Ice Ice Baby, Manolo and U Can’t Touch This, No Sleep ’til Brooklyn, WTF, Sabotage, etc.

All the bros would bob their heads to and fro to the sound of the beat.

Their feet would tap and stomp to the music unconsciously and quite uncontrollably so.

Noctis would sometimes do the ‘bad boy’ pout accidentally to which the bros would tease him incessantly, much to his embarrassment, but does it anyway.

Prompto would unashamedly sing to the music with Noct as his back up singer. He can actually sing, this dude. But he’d rather just blend in.

Gladio would look out into the distance as they’re driving in the car, pretending that they were making a music video of his ‘bad-assery’.

The bros and V would lip sync to No Sleep ’til Brooklyn. Every one is assigned their own parts and would try their best to sing in character. Ignis got carried away as he drummed his hands on the steering wheel. Prompto and Noctis would even stand on the car as they sang the lyrics to one another, both in their rocker state.

Ignis would deny it, but he absolutely love music like these that always get his blood pumping as effectively as Ebony can. He’d sip a can of it while chilling to the beats yoh

When in their own private company, the bros would goof around with dance moves they see from music videos. Noct would goof around but deep inside he really wanted to dance like a cool back street guy.

Prompto would be the most competitive — he’d do really sick moves and would even pose at the right moment in the song, entertaining the whole gang up to the late hours of the night.

Gladio would criticize Noct’s trying hard moves and would often tease Ignis to drop the act and just let loose; of course he doesn’t.

Ignis would be in the kitchen baking or cooking to his heart’s desire, only to sing to the lyrics all by his lonesome and ultimately busting some moves of his own while holding his spatula. V walks in and walks back out again once she sees Ignis shaking them hips as the kitchen smelled of vanilla. *I found a silly gif of Iggy dancing...but I suppose I’d leave the vision of him dancing to our imaginations. Haha!*

V likes some of the old music from ancient Eos and would often revel in the music as it was being played all around Lucis. She would dance the traditional steps and would often take Ignis’ hands and dance with him, their arms hooked around each other’s, his feet shuffling as best as he can. He let loose for a bit. It’s the wine, he’d say. But we drank root beer, Noctis said to which Prompto snickered and took a shot of a rather competitive Iggy.

Gladio’s playlist includes not just ‘bad-ass’ music but also love songs, like tons of it. He’d be bursting his lungs out, complete with emotions nobody thought they’d see on Gladio’s eyes. Then after a particularly sappy song he’d pipe down and keep to himself, just absorbing the raw emotions. Iggy sheds a tear in secret.

Noct would HATE it once V puts in her OLD MAN playlist. She likes to listen to lots of genre, but when she’s particularly vexed or just missing Ravus, she’d sneak in a short valse in the completely varied playlist. Ignis approves of this.

Hammerhead

In Hammerhead, Cid would listen to his so-called ‘ swamp and cowboy tunes’ all day, erryday as Noctis would say. Sometimes he’d sing the wrong lines or miss the timing in the lyrics and would speed his singing up once he realizes he was out of sync. Noctis and the bros would hide beside the garage, laughing their brains out as Ignis records Cid’s singing. They would replay it every damn time as the opportunity arises. Even a stick in the mud like Cor would *giggle* each time he hears this.

Cor Leonis finds out in Leide that Dave the hunter shares the same damn good taste in music. So every night, they’d light up the camp fire and tune those guitars and blow on those harmonicas so they’d commence their good ol’ dirt road singing. Nothing like two deep voices singing gritty music while chugging a cold mug of liquor.

Cid’s playlist: Anything from Hank Williams. Hands down his favorite.

Cor’s playlist would have a variety of genre, but these songs pop into my head each time I see the marshal : Old Before Your Time by Ray LaMontagne, Sitting on the Dock of The Bay by Otis Redding,  Universal Soldier by Donovan, Sheena-Na-Gig by PJ Harvey, Capsize by Black Delta, Through the Valley by Shawn James, etc. Basically anything that has that vintage old vibes and missing home feels and some moody ones as well.

Insomnia

If back in Insomnia, Cor would open the door and ask them all to keep it down. Back in his room he’d take up his guitar and sing some of his ‘cowboy’ music. Shh nobody knows.

The hall in Insomnia is vast and music echoed all over the walls each time there was a celebration or a performance by the Royal Symphony. One day, completely bored to death, Prompto and Noctis used a small audio system to start rapping in the hall, the amplifier making their voices ring all around. They sang in the silliest way possible or would imitate any person’s voice and would comment on any topic like radio DJs. Monica wasn’t pleased when she heard how Prompto imitated her voice — he got an especially grueling training in firearms the next day.

King Regis would ask any close female friend to dance with him during a celebration and would be rather dashing. Veritas noted that he’s still quite the dancer thirty years ago, much to his satisfaction.

As a young man, King Regis loves to listen to instrumental compositions. He’s not into the whole modern music of his age, moreover the ones his son loves to blast out during the mornings and midnights. He prefers the calm he gets when he listens to instrumental music and yet, despite the fast beats, he likes to listen to samba music, too. Oh dear, Queen Aulea used to tease him about it. And it was only her who got the killjoy prince to dance to it…and his lover was only too pleased with herself for coaxing him to uhh, shake those hips. If only she had taken a photo of him!

After seeing Lunafreya on television and newspaper coverage as well as hearing about her on the radio, Nyx Ulric finds himself absolutely smitten with the Oracle. Of course he denies it. There’s no way he can crush on the most loved woman of Eos. She’s way up there and he’s like, a dude who lives in a slightly shabby apartment in a not-so flashy neighborhood in Insomnia, a guy who likes dirt roads and road trips while she’s probably into posh Altissian dinners, high end hotel rooms and a mansion that smells like sylleblossoms that probably practically grows in every corner. His list goes on and on. His friends, particularly Libertus and Crowe both find it hilarious that the hero and not so innocent friend of theirs is in ‘lurve’ with the purest human being. Of course it’s a contradiction, but what’s not to love about such a tragic infatuation story? They’d tease him during their breaks or whenever she appears on the media. Their go to song to push their lovestruck friend’s buttons is ‘Uptown Girl’ from a vintage band. And boy would Nyx’s ears turn red as the two would sing along, pushing an article of newspaper with Lunafreya’s face. The song stuck and unfortunately for Nyx, it’ll play in his head even until the moment he suddenly meets the Oracle herself. Poor guy.

[livingmybestfictionallife]

F*ck with me--what the hell?!

Prompts: –> Part 1: Hope Ann Gregory brings in an old friend to help her train Maggie for the Olympics as well as to repel Lance Tucker from stealing Maggie from Hope –> Part 2: Maggie qualifies for the US Women’s Olympic Gymnastics team and she, Hope, and (Y/N) head to Brazil along with the rest of the US Women’s team and Lance. –> Part 3: (Y/N) balances her professional duties and personal vengeance against Lance Tucker, rather successfully until Lance steps up his game. –> Part 4: Tension rises between Lance and (Y/N) –> Part Five: Frustrated he was bested by (Y/N), Lance drunkenly stumbles to her, Hope’s, and Maggie’s shared room where Hope and Maggie force (Y/N) to handle the situation…and then things get pretty heated. --> Part 6: The day after. The events that followed (Y/N)’s decision to spend the night with Lance could have an extreme effect on her relationships and career.

Warnings: language bc it’s Hope and Lance

Tags: @gingerbatchwife, @broken-pieces, @bubblyanarocks3, @yessy2012

The alarm clock blared annoyingly at 6 AM on the dot. (Y/N) hadn’t paid attention to the time other than the fact that it was early--too damned early--but that was the Olympics. She rolled over and practically punched the alarm clock in an attempt for it to stop annoying her, only regretting her decision when she knocked it off the night stand in her unsuccessful attempt to stop the noise. (Y/N) slipped out of the bed and her bare feet touched the soft carpet as she made her way toward the clock. Once the evil machine was in her hands, she realized just how late she was.

“Six? How did I sleep in so late?” she gasped and hurried toward the closet to find the track suit she was supposed to wear specifically for today only to find a bunch of oversized and baggy clothes, some with ‘Tucker’ printed on the back or the initials LT plastered in the tags. “Shit,” she grumbled as she glanced around the room. “All these damn hotel rooms look the same,” she hissed as she pulled the clothes she had on the previous night back onto her body and rushed through the room to find her important belongings like phone and key card. Once all of her belongings were back in her possession, she tried to search the room to find any signs of Lance but quickly gave up, knowing Hope would have her ass for being any more late than she was.

(Y/N) ran through the halls and into her room to find it empty. She knew there was no time for a shower and she instead hurried to spray her hair with dry shampoo, spritz some body spray around her, and slip into the track suit before rushing to the arena.

“Where the fuck have you been?” Hope yelled as she say (Y/N) try and slip discretely into the locker room.

“I was...I stayed up late reviewing footage and missed my alarm,” (Y/N) lied. 

“Maggie said something about Fucker Tucker coming by drunk off his ass. Are you sure there was nothing there that distracted you?”

“What the hell, Hope?” (Y/N) protested. “I made sure he got back to his room and went to the computer bay to work. I fell asleep there, but I’m here now, so do you want to get to work or keep waisting time questioning me?” She couldn’t help being defensive. She wasn’t necessarily proud of what happened the previous night, but at the same time, she didn’t exactly regret it. There wasn’t any time for (Y/N) to process that she had sex with Lance and his disappearance this morning didn’t help her ability to figure out what the hell was going on. Besides, Hope was one of the sluts he slept with all those years ago.. Why should (Y/N) disclose what happened last night when Hope kept that a secret from her for nearly ten years?

“Fine, what’s the verdict?” Hope asked as her attitude turned from interrogation to professional.

“The only mishaps Maggie had from the past couple practices is when she gets too much in her head. She’s letting her nerves psych her our,” (Y/N) stated.

“Alright,” Hope said and then went toward where Ben stood to ask how much time they had left before being called into the arena.

“(Y/N),” Maggies said quietly.

“Yeah?” she asked in return while taking a step toward the girl.

“I don’t know if I can do this. You and Hope have done so much and I--I don’t want to let you down,” she admitted, her voice cracking a bit as she spoke.

“Maggie,” (Y/N) said while pulling the girl into a small hug, “you’ve worked so hard for this. You’re more than ready for this! Don’t tell Hope I said this, but if you just go out there and have fun--don’t treat it like a competition--you’ll be perfect!”

“PowWow over,” Hope stated, causing the pair to separate and look to her. “Time to enter.” The quartet made their way toward a tunnel in the arena. First stood Hope and then Ben, followed by (Y/N), and then the competitor, Maggie. To their left was the rest of the US women’s team lead by their coach, the now sober and arrogantly cocky man (Y/N) had been dealing with and frankly didn’t know how to handle any more. 

“Gregory,” Lance stated without breaking his position of attention, waiting to lead his team into the arena.

“Tucker,” she responded drying. Ben turned to look and see if Hope was okay or if Lance had already gotten under her skin, but was quickly corrected. “Eyes forward, Twitchy,” she stated sharply.

“(Y/N),” Lanced called, “can you come here for a moment?” he asked, breaking pose to meet her eyes. She looked to Hope for instruction whose eyes were now locked on Lance’s , trying to figure out what reason he’d need to speak with (Y/N) privately. “It’s about one of my girls’ jumps,” he stated, prompting Hope to nod lightly, allowing me to fall out of line.

“Which girl and what jump?” (Y/N) asked shortly once she had her back to Hope and looked up at Lance.

“I just wanted to apologize for last night,” he whispered. (Y/N)’s jaw tightened as her eyes remained locked on his and her stance unwavering.

“Don’t be, you were drunk” she said before a smirk grew on her smirk, “not everyone’s up to their peak performance when intoxicated,” she finished under her breath. She turned to go back to her position in line when his fingers wrapped around her upper arm and stopped her in her tracks.

“I meant, I wanted to apologize for being drunk,” he restated before lowering his tone and finishing his sentence, “when we-”

“I said, don’t be. It’s not a big deal,” (Y/N) stated a bit more harshly than she intended. (Y/N) fell back into line and held her head up. Her understanding and processing of what happened was still going on and she wanted nothing more than to be isolated and alone instead of about to be thrown into an arena full of people and be in the center of everything. She had been wrestling with the fact that she chose to lose her virginity to the asshole who had once been the source of her torment, but she hadn’t considered the fact that she chose to lose it to a drunk asshole.

“AND NOW, THE UNITED STATES OF AMERICA WOMEN’S GYMNASTIC TEAM WITH THEIR COACH, FORMER GOLD MEDALIST, LANCE TUCKER.” The line of girls lead by Lance filed into the arena and for a split second, the rocks weighing down (Y/N)’s stomach lifted. “FOLLOWED BY MAGGIE TOWNSEND AND HER COACH, FORMER BRONZE MEDALIST, HOPE ANN GREGORY.” The crowd continued their screams as the team entered behind Lance’s.

“We may walk in after them, but they’ll be behind us on the winner’s podium,” Hope stated confidently and loudly enough for the rest of her team as well as Lance could hear her. The teams were quick to line the walls and wait for the other countries’ teams to enter the games. (Y/N) couldn’t help notice Lance’s all to obvious and hasty glances in her direction. As Uruguay was entering, he made his way toward Hope, pointed toward (Y/N), and then continued to proceed down the line, lightly grasp her arm, and lead her toward his seat at the opposite end of the line of gymnasts.

“What the hell are you doing?” she asked as he then continued to escort her into an empty tunnel attached to the arena next to their seats.

“I said I was sorry for being a drunk asshole,” he restated to her.

“And I said it did’t matter,” she spat.

“It seems like it does,” he replied.

“Look, Tucker, we’re here for the girls and their competition.”

“There it is,” he sighed, “I’m back to being just Tucker again.”

“What?” she asked while sighing in aggravation. Lance stepped forward to place his hands on her hips and his lips on hers, but (Y/N) backed away too quickly to explain.

“Why the fuck would I think anything has changed between us?” His voice was low and...defeated. (Y/N) could see the anger welling up in his face as he spun to leave. She was shocked to feel two hot tears roll down her cheeks as she stood in the empty tunnel by herself. (Y/N) was quick to brush the tears off on her sleeve, collect herself, and make her way back toward Hope and Maggie. She refused to show Lance any difference in her presence as she passed him and stood beside Hope to keep from having to be next to Lance.

Event after event passed and for the most part, (Y/N) was holding herself together pretty well. Lance’s fractured emotions were taken out through arrogance and poor sportsmanship toward Hope, (Y/N), Ben, and Maggie. (Y/N) on the other hand became more involved with reassuring the competitors before their event, unfortunately, that involved her interacting with Lance since the majority of girls were on his team. Neither of them spoke of or to the other and it was infuriating both of them. Two hours into the competition, (Y/N) noticed Hope talking to one of the past male gymnasts that went to Athens. (Y/N) hurried over toward her in an attempt to hide the events of last night, but was too late.

“Why the hell is Tucker’s face so red?” she tried to divert the conversation.

“Probably because he knows I’m telling Hope about what we saw last night,” the guy said.

“I can’t believe you actually did it!” Hope called victoriously. “Way to take one for the team, am I right?” (Y/N) could see the embarrassment shedding over Lance’s face as he attempted to leave the area. “Seriously though, you really fucked up his game,” Hope continued.

“Again,” the guy with them added with a laugh as more of Lance’s old teammates gathered into the conversation. (Y/N) could feel her face getting hot and her heart clench in her chest as she watched Lance angrily slam a door into a hallway open and disappear behind it.

“Excuse me,” she stated and pushed past the people in front of her before running toward the door and slipping through the crack left by Lance’s outburst and hurrying down the dark and dank empty hall. “Lance,” she called out.

“What the fuck, (Y/N)? All that shit I was honest to you about and I’m some damn charity case? Not even that; to you, I’m just...what the hell (Y/N)?” She tried to approach him. She just wanted to touch him or hug him--something innocent...something their experiences with one another have never been. “Don’t fucking touch me!”

“Lance!” she yelled. “I...I want to believe you. I want to believe all of what you told me, I want to believe that you actually give a shit about me! I just don’t know how to!”

“Now you don’t fucking have to,” he demanded. “You make me look like a damn fool all of the fucking time and I’m...I’m done dealing with your shit.”

“Lance,” she tried again to get his attention by placing her hand on his arm.

“I said don’t touch me, (Y/N).” He slapped her arm away from his and glared at her, each of them standing still until the echo of him hitting her faded down the hall.

“Nothing about what happened last night was malicious! Not a single thing that happened between us was to fuck with you--I mean, it was in the beginning but...”

“But then what? I opened myself up to you? You realized I was a fucking person?”

“YES!” she shouted. “Until then, you were an ass. Until you started being honest and even genuine, you were a prick who deserved whatever he was about to get. I didn’t decide to do anything with or to you just to fuck with you, just like you didn’t do all that mean shit to me back in Athens for no reason other than to be an ass!”

“Then what the hell, (Y/N)?” Lance had one of his hands resting on his hips and the other making its way through his hair.

“We go back out there, finish the games, and then meet up in your room to talk about this,” she stated. Lance took a deep breath and sniffed before nodding, knowing she was making sense despite his aggravation.

[alphacrone]

in which jack does not, in fact, go into the NHL

AN: the sequel to this piece.  TW: Suicidal thoughts, career changes, hard conversations.

When the confetti rained down in the other team’s colors, Jack felt a cold wave of numbness wash over him.

I don’t want to be alive anymore, he thought, chest tightening with shame and fear. I want to die.

A pause. A breath.

Oh.

“Holy fuck,” Shitty said, staring out over the ice. “You know what? You’re gonna be back here in, like, a few months, huh?”

Jack shrugged, scrolling through his preliminary shots to test the lighting.  “I guess so...I haven’t actually signed yet.”

Shitty snorted, hand on his hip. “Jack, surprise me and don’t join the NHL. Surprise me and do, like, competitive fucking horticulture.”

Before Jack could respond, another voice from behind them called, “Hey, y’all!”

“Oh.” Jack turned, fighting the urge to smile. “Hey, Bittle.”

Bittle and Shitty chatted for a moment about the oddness of never playing with Samwell again. Jack took a few more shots of the ice, trying not to think of the cute way Bittle’s grown-out playoffs hair curled around his ears.

“-mega weird,” Shitty said, looking sad.

And it was weird. Mega weird. Jack had never played with a team quite like Samwell and he knew that he never would again. Shitty would move onto law school and pursuing his career, and Jack would stay here, chasing the high of his first goal, never quite finding that sense of purpose again. It made him too sad, so Jack cleared his throat and said, “It’s weird, but we can’t think of it as our last game. We’ve made it this far by playing in the moment. We’ll leave everything on the ice because that’s what we do. It’s one more game.” He felt his throat tightening, felt Bittle’s eyes on him. “Just one more.”

And it was. For whatever reason, Jack skated out onto the ice that evening with the overwhelming sense that this would be his last game ever.

As soon as he could slip away, Jack did. He shed his jersey and skates like a snake rutting against rocks to pull off its old skin and stumbled to a loading bay. It was cold and dark and Jack sat there, shaking, wishing the ground would open up and swallow him whole so he wouldn’t have to feel this way anymore.

It was just a game, he could hear his mother whisper.

<<You’ll get ‘em next time,>> his father said.

Jack could feel their hands on his back, in his hair, and the phantom touches crawled across his skin like invisible roaches. He squirmed and tensed and tried not to cry out in horror. His hands prickled and his lips went numb and a panic attack was approaching quickly-

He heard the footsteps a moment too late, and then two warm arms were around him, squeezing tight.

Jack knew without looking it was Bittle. Of course it was Bittle.

The pins and needles dancing across his body calmed as Jack leaned into Bittle’s embrace. He wanted to be wrapped up in that warmth, pressed under the solidness of Bittle’s body. Shitty would surely offer to cuddle him tonight, but Jack wanted Bittle, wanted Bittle’s kind hands and tentative smiles and honey-rich laughter.

Around them, muffled by the walls and the blood pounding in Jack’s ears, the sounds of celebration carried through the halls. Bittle tightened his embrace, burying his face in Jack’s shoulder, and Jack could feel him shaking. He was crying, too.

Was he crying for the loss or for Jack?

Did it really matter, either way?

Jack was so tired when he logged onto Samwell’s website that he could barely read the words on the screen.

Samwell University Graduate Programs jumped out at him in big, red letters. He’d known, technically, that Samwell had to have a few in order to be designated a university and not simply a college, but the programs were small and the grad students blended in with everyone else. Jack thought one of his TAs might’ve been in the Education program, but she could’ve just been a senior looking for extra work.

“What’s the harm in applying?” He murmured to himself. “You can always turn down an offer, if you even get one.”

At the bottom of the screen, after paragraphs upon paragraphs exalting the school’s reputation and course catalogue, sat a small due date: February 26

That was just a few weeks away. And Jack was in the middle of the season, he had a draft of his thesis due soon, he had meetings with GMs and his agent and-

There was a quiet knock at his door. “Jack, you awake?”

Jack was always astonished at how calm he felt around Bittle these days. Even just the sound of his voice made Jack feel like everything wasn’t too much to handle, if he just kept pushing forward. “Come in,” he called, setting his laptop to the side.

Bittle pushed the door open slowly, peeking in as if he’d misheard Jack. In his hand was a plate of food--frozen chicken tenders and freshly cooked home fries, Jack’s favorite. “You weren’t at team dinner, so I thought you might be hungry,” he said, smiling worriedly. “It’s okay if you’re not- oh, you probably had a meeting or a date or something, I can just put this in the fridge for later-”

“Bittle.” Jack stood and plucked the plate from his hand. “Thank you.”

Bittle shrugged, smile brightening. “Can’t let my captain starve.”

Jack laughed and shook his head, reaching out to ruffle Bittle’s hair in the way that always annoyed him. “Don’t know what I’d do without you,” he chirped, voice teasing but intent real. Jack really didn’t know what he’d do without Bittle’s cooking, or his chirping, or his sunny, wonderful smile. His life would certainly be less bright, that was for sure.

“Stop,” Bitty whined, slapping at Jack’s hand. “See if I ever cook for you again.”

“Thanks for dinner,” Jack said, frowning slightly as Bittle yawned. “Now go to bed. Captain’s orders.”

“Yeah, yeah.” Bittle rolled his eyes but grinned. “One day you won’t get to boss me around anymore.”

“But that’s not today,” Jack retorted. “Night, Bits.”

Bittle smiled and waved. “Night, Jack.”

Jack waited until Bittle’s door closed with a small click, then he set down the food and grabbed his laptop again, looking at the Samwell website again with a renewed determination.

Just in case, he thought. Just in case.

“It’s a sign,” Jack murmured, voice croaking and harsh in the relative silence of the loading bay. “To move on.”

Bittle looked up at him, confused. “Move on?”

Jack nodded, swallowing back another round of tears. “From hockey.”

“You didn’t lose this game by yourself,” Bittle said quickly, and Jack wondered if he’d rehearsed that line in his head while they’d been sitting here. “We’re a team.”

“Bittle, you know the first thing I thought after that game?” Jack looked down at his hands, flopped uselessly on his lap and trembling even now. “I wanted to die. I wanted to kill myself- over what? Over- over a game?” He hung his head, too ashamed to see Bittle’s reaction. “I can’t...I think going pro would be suicide. I don’t think I’d survive it.”

“Oh.” There was a long, tense, horrible moment, and then two rough hands cupped Jack’s face, forcing him to look up. “Okay.”

There were tears in Bittle’s eyes now, tears for Jack, tears for it all. He leaned his forehead against Jack’s, their noses bumping gently.

“Okay,” he said again, clearly at a loss for words. Jack never thought he’d live to see that day.

“I don’t think I should be alone tonight,” Jack admitted, the warmth of Bittle’s hands soaking into the chilled skin of his face. “Will you-? Would you-?”

“Of course,” Bittle said, nodding. “Always, Jack.”

Always. That was a word Jack had heard before. We’ll always play together, Zimms, drifted through his mind. <<You’ll always be able to go back to the sport.>>

I’ll always want to be in the NHL.

But this time, coming from Bittle, Jack actually believed it.

He ignored just how much he wanted an always with Bittle. There would be time to think about that later.

Calling his father two days after Frozen Four was the scariest thing Jack had ever done.

He had called the morning after, of course, to assure his mother and father he was alright, wasn’t upset, wasn’t dead. But he’d thought about it, now, thought about leaving hockey with a clear head. His heart ached at the thought of never playing again, never playing professionally, but cold dread washed over him at the thought of signing anywhere and, well- his therapist had agreed. It was time he started listening to his emotions. It was time he did something for his health instead of his dream.

An investment for the future, he’d heard himself describe to her. Ensuring my future, really.

With one last breath for courage, Jack hit his father’s contact and waited as it dialed. The phone only rang twice before his father answered, sounding a bit out of breath, like he’d run to accept the call.

<<Hello? Jack, is everything okay?>>

Jack cleared his throat and shifted from foot to foot. <<Yeah, Papa, everything’s fine. I, um...I wanted to let you know…>>

There was a sigh from the other side of the line. <<Have you decided where you’re signing? Jack, do not worry about my reaction, I will be proud of you no matter what team you choose. It’s your decision, not mine.>>

<<Right,>> Jack said, clenching and unclenching his free hand. <<About that. I don’t want to sign anywhere.>>

There was a silence from the other line that nearly sent Jack into a panic attack. Then, very quietly, his father asked, <<Is this because you lost Nationals?>>

It was better than the anger he’d imagined, the disgust at years and money and dreams wasted. <<Yes,>> Jack admitted, because there was no point in lying. <<But, Papa, it’s not- it’s not what you->>

<<Jack, you’ve faced losses before. In a week you’ll feel better and regret rejecting any of the offers. Let me get your mother, she’s always been better at talking about this sort of thing->>

<<I wanted to kill myself after Nationals,>> Jack said bluntly, sitting down on his bed. <<I can’t keep feeling this way. I can’t keep putting all of myself into this game. It’s going to be the death of me.>>

Jack could hear his father’s sharp intake of breath, then the muttered, “I’m getting your mother on the line.”

This wasn’t what Jack wanted, but it was what he’d expected. They were going to make an ordeal out of this, maybe come down to have a family therapy session, but at least they didn’t sound mad. Disappointment from them was something he’d been learning to live with from early childhood; he’d make it through this.

“Jack?”

Maman sounded frazzled, something that was always disconcerting coming from her. Jack swallowed back his fears and said, “Dad’s overreacting.”

“I am not,” he could hear Papa mutter in the background.

“Jack, sweetheart, you’ve wanted to play hockey since before you could walk,” his mother said placatingly. “You can understand why we’re...surprised.”

“I thought the therapy was working,” Papa said, a little harsher than Jack thought he’d intended. “Now he’s suicidal. We need to come down there-”

“And we will,” Maman said, cutting him off. “But, Jack, honey, is this...common? You never mentioned this sort of thing in…”

Rehab was the unspoken word in his family, the one they never quite could spit out. Jack wondered if they’d even told people that’s where he was, or if they’d skirted around that like they did everything else.

“Yes,” Jack said sharply. “Too common. I try to talk it out in therapy but...I think I want to live a normal life. I applied to one of Samwell’s grad programs, I should be hearing back soon. And if I don’t get in there, I’ve been talking to my advisor-”

“Grad school?” Papa sounded surprised. “You...what degree?”

“Business,” Jack said, feeling his face heat up. Maybe it was a stupid decision, a stupid degree, but surely his parents wouldn’t say that out loud-

“Why?” Maman asked, sounding genuinely curious.

“I…” Jack shrugged, forgetting his parents couldn’t see him. “I think I’d be good at management, of any sort. Bittle and I have...joked about me becoming his manager when he’s famous, but I...I like that idea. I’m organized, I like strategy and planning and overseeing a team. I...think it would be a good choice for me.”

“Oh, Jack.” There was a sniffle on the other line, and some muttering Jack couldn’t make out. “Oh, honey, that sounds great.”

There would be the talk about money, probably, the wasting of it up until now and the ongoing tuition. There would be a group therapy session in the next week or so, where Jack would be forced to admit his weaknesses to his father. There would be ugly news articles and upset uncles and prying questions. But right now, they were okay with it, and Jack let himself breathe.

“So...Bittle, eh?” Papa asked, and Jack wondered if they’d believe he had to get to class at 8 pm on a Sunday.

When they got back to campus that night, Jack let Bittle pull him away from the rest of the team. They took the long way home, meandering along the river like they’d done a hundred times before. Jack’s hand bumped against Bittle’s a few times, but neither reached out. It wasn’t the time for that, Jack knew.

When they reached the Haus, it was dark and silent. Jack could hear Lardo’s voice faintly coming from Shitty’s room, and the usual thundering shakes coming from the attic as two elephant-sized dudes wandered around, but other than that, it was unnervingly quiet. Bittle ushered Jack into his room, dropping his bag at the foot of Jack’s bed.

“So I can sleep in the armchair, if you want,” Bittle said, rubbing at the back of his neck. “Or…”

Jack slumped down onto his bed and patted the space next to him. Bittle smiled wearily and crawled onto the bed. They’d changed into sweats after the game instead of their game-day suits -- the coaches looked the other day, too sad themselves to tell the boys any different -- so neither felt the need to change or brush their teeth or anything. Jack kicked his shoes off; Bittle slowly untied his and set them down on the floor.

“Night, Bittle,” Jack said softly, laying his head down on the pillow.

“Night, Jack,” Bittle whispered, giving Jack one last sad smile.

“And...thanks,” Jack added. “For this. For everything.”

“‘Course,” Bittle said, reaching out to squeeze Jack’s hand “Always.”

For the first time in a while, Jack was starting to like the sound of that.

“You’re not signing? Anywhere?”

Jack looked up at Shitty and didn’t see any trace of judgement or anger in his face. Just concern, just like Bittle.

“No,” Jack said, toying with the edge of his comforter. “I’m going into competitive horticulture.”

“Fucking hell, Jack,” Shitty laughed, smacking a hand to his bare stomach. “You really got me for a second.”

“I’m not signing, for real,” Jack said, looking down at his knees. “But, uh. I’m considering grad school.”

“What?” Shitty flopped down onto the bed next to Jack, half in his lap. “Where? Why? When?”

“Who? How?” Jack chirped, letting Shitty shove his head onto Jack’s shoulder.

“I’m serious, give me the deets,” Shitty said. “You’re just- not playing hockey? What programs have you applied to? Brah-” Shitty sat up, grabbing Jack’s shoulders. “Please tell me you’re not going back to Canada. Please.”

Jack chuckled and wrestled Shitty back down next to him. He pretended to be annoyed as Shitty wrapped his arms and legs around him, but Jack was secretly happy about it. “No, I, euh. I got accepted to Samwell’s business program-”

“Business?” Shitty asked, practically climbing onto Jack’s lap, half-straddling him. “Jack, as fine as your ass looks in dress pants, you don’t strike me as the CEO-type. You’re not evil enough.”

Jack smirked at him. “I could say the same about you and being a lawyer.”

“Touché, you beautiful fucker,” Shitty said, settling back down again. “Brah, you’re gonna be here? In Samwell? That’s fucking ‘swawesome. What’re you gonna do with a business degree? Gonna become an agent or something? Start a business?”

“I’m not sure,” Jack said quietly. “Bittle and I have talked about...I dunno. Opening his bakery, maybe, but I think he’s made for bigger things. Maybe I could become his manager, help him make his blog into a career or something.”

“You and Bits would be the ‘swawesomest team,” Shitty said with a grin. “He’d charm all your investors, and you’d keep him in line. Amazing.”

“Ha, yeah.” Jack fell into silence, unsure of what else to say. Shitty nuzzled his head up against Jack’s chin, just to elicit a laugh.

“You know we love you no matter what, right?” Shitty asked, more quiet than Jack had ever heard him. “Me, the team, your family...we just want you to be happy.”

“Yeah.” Jack swallowed back the tears that threatened to fall. “Yeah. Thanks, Shits.”

“Love you, brother,” Shitty whispered. “Love you to the moon and back.”

Jack smiled and ran a hand through Shitty’s hair. “Love you, too.”

They didn’t cuddle.

Jack hadn’t exactly expected that sort of comfort Bittle--he wasn’t Shitty--but he did have to push down the urge to reach over and pull Bittle to him.

There was something to be about sharing a bed with someone. There was comfort in the warmth Bittle radiated, in the sound of his breathing, the faint movements of the bed as he shifted and settled. Jack watched him through all of this, watched the brush of his eyelashes on his cheeks, watched the perpetual smile of his lips fade into a slight part.

One of Bittle’s hands rested on the mattress between them, in that no-homo no-man’s-land. Chewing on the inside of his cheek, Jack slowly reached out to take it in his own.

Bittle’s eyes opened slowly, halfway, and he smiled, tightening his grip on Jack’s fingers. That smile melted the tension from Jack’s shoulders and the rough warmth of Bittle’s hand was all that filled his mind as he drifted off to sleep.

When they woke in the morning, they were still holding hands.

[READ PART 3]

[My writing tag]

[My online novel, The Discourt Knife]