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marmorafarms · 1 year

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Gridball Jersey's and Cigarettes, Ch. 5

The next chapter is finally up! I hope you enjoy! The next chapter is going to be a bit angsty, so get ready for that.

Chapter Rating: T for Teen

Pairing: Sebastian x Alex

Fic Summary: Alex has had a crush on Sebastian ever since they were kids. Their friendship fell apart, but Alex is determined to fix it. Will their relationship work? Or is it doomed to fail due to Alex's Grandfather's strict views?

Word Count: 1,814

Enjoy!

"Clubbing? You? " Haley asked with a smirk. Alex narrowed his eyes at her.

"Yes, me, " he said huffily. He couldn't understand why that was so hard to believe.

Well actually, he could.

Alex had never been much of a dancer. He always avoided school dances when he was in middle and high school, only making an appearance for homecoming and prom. And even then, he had been stiff and awkward. So okay, maybe dancing wasn't his thing. But Sebastian? Well, Sebastian was definitely his thing.

God, the entrance fee could be 100 bucks and he would STILL go. The idea of watching Sebastian dance, and maybe dance with him, was too good. He couldn't pass this opportunity up, no way.

"Wish I could go with you," Haley said with a pout. "Abigail invited Emily but I don't think they'd want me there."

"Why not?" Alex said with a frown.

"Because I'm me," Haley said with a sigh. "I'm so awkward when it comes to people and I end up being mean. I bet they hate me."

"Want me to ask if you can go?" Alex asked. Haley shook her head no.

"Just have a great time, and tell me everything, got it?"

Alex nodded. "Yes ma'am!" he said with a salute.

“And make sure Emily gets you something hot to wear for your man,” Haley said with a wink.

“He’s not my man!” Alex said, face pink. And it was true, Sebastian wasn’t his man. And Alex was endlessly frustrated by this.

He had attempted to set up an actual date with Sebastian several times, but something always came up. And they didn’t exactly hang out now. The only time he had managed to catch Sebastian outside of his cave was at the Saloon. He had been playing pool with his friends. When Alex had entered the room, Sebastian had been bent over the table, back arched slightly as he lined his cue up, trying to get the perfect shot. Everyone in the room was holding their breath, Alex included. Though for him it was because he hadn’t realized that Sebastian had a booty. A round, plump, gorgeous–

Anyway.

The point was, they weren’t an item yet, no matter how much Alex wanted it to be so. He was trying not to be down about it, but apparently was not succeeding. He was standing in Emily’s sewing room, and was watching her “fix up” his gridball jersey to make it something he could wear to the club.

“Will you quit pulling faces and moping around about Sebastian?" Emily snapped as she began to serge the edges. "It's distracting."

"I feel like maybe he doesn't like me anymore," Alex said, arms crossed over his chest. Emily let out a long suffering sigh and turned to look at him.

"Each reason he's given has been a legit reason for not being able to go on that date," she said. "I personally think it's just bad luck," she said, turning back to her work. Alex continued to pout, much to his friend's chagrin.

“I wish you were coming with us,” Alex said to his blue haired friend. “I think you’d have fun.”

“Oh I know I’d have fun,” Emily said bitterly. “But I promised Gus I’d pull a double shift that night. I’m sorry Alex.”

“It’s fine,” he said glumly. Abigail had taken the news hard, making both Alex and Haley curious. Was there something between those two?

"Finished!" Emily finally said and presented the new jersey with a flourish. "Pair this with those skinny jeans you ordered and you'll look like a million bucks!"

Alex held up the tiny looking shirt. "You sure it'll fit?"

"I took your measurements, all I did was make it tighter and shorter. How dare you doubt my skills!" she said with a huff.

"Sorry. Thanks Em," Alex said gratefully. "I owe you one!"

"You always owe me one!" she shouted as Alex left.

Finally the night arrived. The night that Alex was suddenly terrified of. His grandpa had given him a scowl upon seeing his outfit, and muttered something Alex couldn't hear. Honestly, he didn't want to know.

He was wearing his gridball jersey from college, but it wasn't the same jersey he was used to. It hugged his body, showing off his broad chest and oddly slim waist. He had always been uncomfortable with his figure, but tonight he wanted to show his body off.

Emily had taken that into consideration and cropped the jersey so that it hit right above his belly button. Alex hadn't been sure about the shirt, but when the group arrived to pick him up he felt much better.

"Damn!" Abigail said and wolf whistled at him. Alex let out a laugh, which only got louder when Sam asked how his abs got like that.

“Working out for an hour every day will do that to you,” Alex said with a shrug.

"I wanna…" Sam said, reaching out, but Léo smacked his hand away.

"Hands off unless you want to sleep at your house tonight," Léo said, and Sam immediately retracted his hand.

"Wow, his dick game must be good if it gets you to stop doing stupid shit," Sebastian said as they began to walk away. Alex raised his eyebrows and Sam blushed.

"Oh uh, Léo and I are a thing now," he said bashfully, and Léo chuckled.

"Too scared to say I'm your b-word?" Léo asked.

"He's your bitch?" Abigail asked Sam. The whole group burst into laughter as Léo tried in vain to say he had meant "boyfriend."

They all piled into Léo's new truck, and they made the trip to Zuzu City. Alex's whole body felt like it was buzzing as he watched Sebastian laugh with his friends. He loved how the dark-haired man looked with genuine joy on his face. A few times the ball on his tongue piercing flashed, and Alex gulped. It looked so sinful, so good.

The club they went to was called Cece's, and several pride flags adorned the windows. Alex felt at ease seeing them there. He had been worried about getting weird looks, but he knew he'd be fine at a gay bar.

The music was loud, and Alex could feel the beat of the song in his body. Brightly colored lights flashed in the darkened room, and the people were moving in ways Alex didn't know were possible.

Abigail was the first on the floor, quickly finding a cute and curvy goth girl to dance with. After a few shots, Sam and Léo followed, and Alex had to look away from them after a bit, face red.

"They look like they're fucking on the dance floor," Sebastian commented.

"So does everyone else," Alex said fairly. "It's just different 'cause I know them."

"Should we join?" Sebastian asked. Alex chewed on it and shook his head.

"I'm not a good dancer," he said. "I'll stay here for a bit. You can though."

"I will," Sebastian said, a slight edge to his voice. Confused, Alex turned to the bartender to order another drink. Why had Sebastian snapped at him like that?

He turned back to talk with his friend but noticed he had vanished. What the hell? Alex scanned the room and…

No.

No way

He could feel the blood pounding in his ears as he watched the scene unfolding before him. Sebastian was on the dancefloor, ass pressed up against some random guy's crotch. His arms were thrown back, and curved around the guy's neck. And the guy…his hands were on Seb's hips, gripping him tight as the two danced pornographically in front of him.

Alex knew he didn't have any claim over Sebastian. They weren't dating, they weren’t anything except friends. Friends who sent pictures of themselves nearly naked to each other sometimes. That had to count for something, right?

The fingertips of the other guy dipped under Sebastian's jeans, and Alex snapped. He slammed his drink on the bar and stormed over. He had no earthly idea what he was going to say, but he was too pissed off to care.

"Hey!" Alex shouted over the music. Both the random man and Sebastian looked at him.

"What?" the guy asked, annoyed.

"Get away from him!"

Wow.

Okay, that was a bit much. But he refused to back down. Sebastian was his! Sort of? It didn't matter. All that mattered was that the stupid guy behind Sebastian left.

"Oh am I dancing with your man?" the guy said with a smirk. "Lucky guy, he upgraded to me."

Alex wasn't entirely sure what he said next, but what he did know was that Sebastian was dragging him off the dancefloor to the hallway that led to the bathrooms.

"What was that? " Sebastian hissed.

"I was getting you away from that jackass!" Alex said angrily. Sebastian rolled his eyes in annoyance.

"I didn't want to get away from him!" Sebastian said with a glare. "I was having fun!"

"Well, I didn't like it!" Alex said. His throat felt like it was closing up, and his fists were clenched. "I don't want you dancing with him!"

"Who the hell should I dance with then?" Sebastian snapped. "You didn't want to dance with me, so who do you think I should spend my time with?"

Alex wasn't good with words. He wasn't good at communicating his feelings very well, so instead of speaking, he decides to act. He roughly shoved the smaller man against the wall and kissed him deeply.

It wasn't an elegant kiss. It was rough and fevered and needy. It was full of Alex's emotions–anger, sadness, jealousy and…and something else. Something Alex was too afraid to name.

When they broke apart, Sebastian looked up at him, eyes wide in shock. Alex cleared his throat and looked away. When he finally locked eyes with Sebastian, he was full of determination.

"I should've said yes when you wanted to dance," Alex said. "I wasn't thinking. When I saw you with that guy I…I just…Seb, I want to be the one dancing with you. I want to be yours."

Sebastian smiled softly at him, threaded his fingers through Alex's short hair, and kissed him back. It was slow and steady this time, and soon the sound of lips on lips filled the tiny hallway as the two men kissed.

"Want you," Sebastian murmured, his hips meeting Alex's. At first, Alex didn’t get it.

"Not here! " Alex said in a shrill tone when he realized what Sebastian was implying. "Also I told you that you don't get to see the goods until you take me on a date."

"You free next Friday?" Sebastian asked. "I have so much fucking work all week and next but that Friday I'll finally be free."

"Y-yeah," Alex said with a blush. "I'm free."

"Great," Sebastian said happily. "Now let's go dance!"

#stardew sebastian x alex #stardew sebastian #stardew alex #sdv sebastian x alex #sdv sebastian #sdv alex #sdv fanfic #stardew fanfic #my writing #gjac

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ghostbustermelanieking · 3 years

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some thoughts on mag 200

i’ve been having trouble articulating this, but i wanted to get some thoughts down on mag 200, and the ending of tma as a whole, now that i’ve heard the finale twice and had some time to process it all. putting this under a cut in case people don’t wanna see it -- there’s gonna be a lot of praise here, but also some legit criticism. this is a way to sort through my feelings more than anything else.

first off, relistening to the finale, and sitting on it for a while, has made me feel a hell of a lot better about the whole thing. the episode comes off a lot better when you’re not vibrating with fear and anticipation, in my opinion. the final statement was very fitting and cool -- not my favorite ever, but i can appreciate it a lot as a final closing for the fears. and i don’t have an ear for soundscaping but the sound in that statement was cool as hell. the jonah magnus gets fucking murdered scene is incredibly satisfying. a lot of other people have said this, but i love that jon finally got his revenge, and was able to lash out against jonah for all the years of manipulation and beng used, and for tim and sasha and everything else. that was perfect. i genuinely thought we might not get a scene like this after 193 but i am so glad we did. incredibly satisfying. the girls made it out!! i am very glad that they’re ok and moving on and seem to be leaning on each other. (By God I Will Wring Found Family Out Of This Podcast If It Kills Me.) and the admiral’s okay. love that

and the jonmartin ending. oh my god. while i was never the biggest fan of the possibility of martin having to kill jon, the way it went down was so painful and good. i loved that final scene. i love the ambiguity -- that they might have died but maybe they didn’t, maybe they’re all right and happy and we can decide for ourselves -- i love that i got exactly what i wanted, that i get to have my cake and eat it too, all the angst of a jmart death and still the possibility of happiness... i am going buckwild. i love it. the longer i spend with this ending, the happier i am with it. i really really loved it

on another note... i do have some reservations about the finale and the season as a whole. i understand peoples’ irritations with the finale, and while i’m trying to focus on the things i did like, i definitely have some irritations. for one, i definitely wish the finale had been longer. i would’ve loved to see more of what wtgfs and basira were doing, and the actual lighting of the archives, etc. and while i completely understand why the scene at the panopticon went as quickly as it did -- it comes off very much as wild, frantic impulse in the heat of the moment where they’re in danger and trying to protect each other -- i do wish it had gone a little slower.

in my mind, the biggest issue in season 5 ended up being pacing. and this might be a personal preference thing -- there’s a lot of things within the show that i don’t personally vibe with, but i don’t necessarily think they’re badly written. but i do think season 5 was slow. and while slow things can certainly work in a certain context (season 4 comes off wildly slow til you listen to 160), i wish more of what actually happened in season 5 had been baked into the end game. the season felt like it had a lot of filler, which drives me mildly crazy, because the end game feels rushed and i don’t think it NEEDED to be. i liked a lot of what season 5 did -- there’s some impeccable episodes, the character interactions are weirdly lighter and softer than they have been in previous seasons, and i wouldn’t trade a lot of the things that it’s given us (all the jonmartin interactions, jon and georgie briefly rebuilding their friendship, martin and melanie friendship, wtgfs scenes and intimacy, backstory, lore, etc) for anything. but i do think it could’ve been structured and paced a little differently. i also think it could’ve given some more screentime to the character stuff we got from episodes like 161, 170, 186, 190, 191, 192, 199... i absolutely love both martin centric monologue episodes, but i hate that we didn’t get anything like that for jon. (or for melanie or georgie or basira...) the best episodes of the season, imo, are the ones that broke from traditional form of domain statement domain, and the ones that focused in hard on backstory, lore, character introspection, character interaction... i wish we had more of this.

when it comes to the jonmartin arc... i know this has been a point of contention with a lot of people, but i don’t hate it at all. maybe it’s just because i relistened to the majority of the season back in january, but a lot of the more grating moments that seemed large week to week (martin pressuring jon to smite people, the disagreements they had earlier in the season, jon using martin as bait in 176, etc etc) come off a lot more minor when you’re binging. personally, relistening to act i made those interactions come off as things they were struggling with through continued support and reassurance. there were absolutely things i wanted addressed, especially with the “kill bill arc” -- the disagreements early in the season, and how it seemed to turn on its head in the argument they have in 194. (i didn’t like martin blaming jon for the kill bill arc and i was hoping it would get brought up.) i also wanted to see a discussion of martin going with annabelle in 194 -- i wasn’t really ever mad at martin for doing it, but i did want to see them talk it out.

but! after relistening to 200, i think i have a better handle on why that couldn’t have happened. martin goes behind jon’s back to go with annabelle and they don’t talk about it; jon goes behind martin’s back to sabotage the plan everyone agrees on in order to prevent the fears from spreading. if they’d had a big talk about trust, and working through martin going off with annabelle, and then jon turned around and did the same thing, more or less... it would’ve completely soured that discussion. jon and martin needed to be in a place of discourse for this ending to work.

honestly, the more i’ve thought about this final JM arc, the better i feel about it. sure, jon and martin are in a bad place, and they’ve gone behind each other’s backs and been somewhat selfish, but i don’t think this ruins their relationship. for one, martin’s break in trust comes from a place of wanting to save jon and the world. and for another, jon genuinely feels he is doing the right thing, making a decision he can live with. (i have my own opinions as to how ethical jon’s decision was, but that’s another post. and i think the muddy ethics of this ending are on purpose -- it’s horror, a genre that often doesn’t offer ethical decisions.) their final decisions and final moments come from a place of love and protectiveness, and they change their decisions for the other. they still love each other, through all of it. i don’t think these late stage betrayals equivalate jonmartin necessarily being doomed as a couple (not that anyone has said that, but it’s worth saying). and i think it’s important to remember that this is still a relatively new relationship. it existed for approximately three weeks before the literal apocalypse, and it’s been under an immense amount of stress, as well as the constant fear that one or both of them would die. (which they did.) i’m not saying that excuses certain things they’ve said or done, but i am saying i don’t think the relationship is doomed. i think, if jon and martin have survived, they’ll need to work through things. they’ll need to talk it all out. and they’ll be able to! they’ll heal from this one way or another. the tragedy isn’t that jonmartin is doomed, or toxic. it’s that these moments of betrayal are what dooms them. and the beautiful undercurrent of it all is that they still manage to come together, and make decisions that mean they stay together. and that wherever they are, they’re still together.

all in all, i don’t think season 5 has been perfect, and i can make my peace with that. (tma’s worst is a hell of a lot better than most shows’ best.) (i also think it might be worth considering how covid could have affected certain aspects of how the season was written -- pandemics are stressful, and i can’t imagine what it’s like to finish an enormous, in the works for years project like this in the middle of that. personally, i’m impressed they’ve managed to finish the show through all of this and keep it to a similar quality.) i think critiques are valuable and worth discussing. and i think plot aspects aside, there are several other critique related things that could be brought up about this season that people have articulated much better than i ever could. but i also, personally, want to walk away from the show feeling satisfied. i tend to be weirdly positive about things i love (the x files finale was horrendous, but i managed to get to a place where i was happy with it, for example), and i think that applies here -- even more so because i really did love so many aspects of that finale. i don’t necessarily want to linger in my own mind over what i disliked, especially considering the show is over. although i did want to air out my thoughts.

i still love this show. i loved a lot of episodes this season, frustrations aside. season 5 will forever be my only live tma experience, and it got me through one of the worst years of my life, and i am very grateful for this. i genuinely did just want to air out my thoughts and get them all down on paper. these are just my opinions -- i don’t want to criticize anyone who feels differently about the finale, or the season as a whole. everyone’s opinion is their own.

i feel a lot, lot better about mag 200, to the point of genuinely loving it. i hope my appreciation only grows as i get further from that frenzied first day and have more time to sit with it. and i can’t wait to see all the art and read all of the amazing fics that are going to come out of this ending (and write some of my own). it’s been a wild ride. i’m glad i was here for it.

#tma #the magnus archives #mag 200 #tma spoilers #tma negative #not too strong i dont think but just in case #this might be completely incoherent lol but i wanted to get it down

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bedlamsbard · 3 years

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Part 10 of the other side AU concept! Next up will be the epilogue scenes. As a reminder from Part 1, the current state of the New Republic here takes more from the EU than it does from the new canon (though has some nods in that direction), because I’m more familiar with the EU and like it more.

Previous: Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part 8 Part 9

About 6.5K below the break.

***

Only General Airen Cracken, the head of Rebel Intelligence, and Leia Organa were present when Hera did her post-mission debrief. She suspected that this op was going to be the kind whose reports were mysteriously lost – that if they ever existed at all – but as it was she gave Cracken and Leia the truth as best she could.

When she had finished, Cracken and Leia glanced at each other. The small office was quiet for a long time, broken only by the hum of the air filters on the big warship and the sound of steps in the corridor beyond the closed door.

Cracken turned the data card with the Cluster-Prism files over in his fingers, frowning to himself. He was a human male with graying fair hair, his mild expression belying the sharpness in his eyes. After a few moments, he said, “I would say that none of what you just told us leaves this room, but I assume under the circumstances you’ll be informing members of your old crew the details.”

“I could hardly not,” Hera said, forbearing to point out that most of them had been there when she had returned. Luke and Ahsoka had taken Kanan off to talk to him privately; since Hera hadn’t heard any alarm klaxons yet, either they had all killed each other quietly or it was going as well as it could under the circumstances. Luke and Ahsoka didn’t get along at the best of times and this wasn’t those.

Cracken tapped the edge of the data card on his desk, then shrugged and said, “This should get us a step ahead of Warlord Zsinj – several steps ahead, with any luck. Will you be transferring back to the Lodestar? You’re due some leave that I assume you’ll want to take under the circumstances.”

“Airen, you know as well as I do that a general never really gets to go on leave,” Hera said dryly, which made the corner of his mouth quirk up in a grin.

“I do that.” He pulled open a desk drawer, removed something, and tossed it to her. “By the way, the Council vote was four days ago. Alliance commissions are automatically transferred to the New Republic, but if you did want a new assignment, this would be the time to ask.”

Hera caught the neat circle of embroidered fabric and inspected it; the new insignia was the Rebel Alliance starbird surrounded by fifteen starbursts. She turned the patch over in her fingers, thinking.

“Hera?” Cracken said, when she had been silent too long for comfort.

Hera put the patch down on the desk in front of her, smoothing her fingers over the starbird, and looked up at Cracken. “I’m going to resign my commission.”

His sandy eyebrows shot up. “Why?”

“There’s something I’ve needed to do for a long time,” Hera said slowly, “and I’ve put it aside for far too long. I can’t do that anymore.”

“You’re talking about Ezra Bridger,” Leia said.

Hera glanced at her. “Yes.”

Cracken rubbed a hand over his chin. “I’ve read those files. Vanished off into the Unknown Regions with Grand Admiral Thrawn and what was left of the Seventh Fleet.”

Hera nodded.

“I met Thrawn, back in the old days,” Cracken remarked. “If he ever returned, we could be in for a bigger fight than Zsinj and Isard and the rest of that lot have been giving us. Do you have any reason to think they’re out there? Bridger, Thrawn, the Chimaera, any of the other ships from the Seventh?”

“No more reason than to think they’re not,” Hera said. “I won’t be alone.”

“Mmm.” Cracken tapped his fingers on the table. “Not being from Starfighter Command or representing High Command in this case, I can’t accept your resignation, General Syndulla. I will say that since the Council vote, we’ve already had a rash of personnel resigning, officers and enlisted alike. Some of them aren’t interested in going legit, others believe that the Council vote means the war is over.” He shook his head. “As long as there’s even one Imperial Remnant ship or base out there, the war will never be over. You’d be surprised at how many people don’t believe that, though.”

“No, I wouldn’t.”

He snorted. “No, you wouldn’t. You’re like the rest of us old-timers. We saw too much. Kills our credibility as far as the kids who joined up after Yavin or even Endor think, let alone the ones who lived through Cinder.” He leaned back in his chair, sharp eyes considering. “You’re too good an officer to lose, Hera.”

She stiffened, but he held up a finger to silence her before she could protest.

“Let me finish before you tell me to go to hell and flounce off with that resurrected boyfriend of yours.”

“I never flounce, Airen. And it’s fiancé.”

His eyebrows went up. “Congratulations are in order, I suppose.” Then he frowned. “Is this for the damn pension? Because as I recall, technically Jarrus was never an Alliance officer –”

Leia stirred and said, “It’s in the Articles that members of informal rebel cells have the right to apply for retroactive status if they couldn’t formally join the Alliance due to captivity, distance, or other reasons –”

“Such as being dead?” Cracken said.

Hera met his gaze. “Prove it.”

He massaged his forehead. “Oh, for love of the Force.”

“The last formal rank he held was commander,” Hera said.

“In the Grand Army of the Republic, I assume.”

“There’s precedent. Rex –”

Cracken waved a hand. “I’ll sign the datawork if that’s what you want. If it’s just for the pension rather than actually finding him a command –” He tapped a finger on the data card. “This does count for something, but we’re a bit short of commands at the moment.”

“What, even with officers resigning left and right?” Hera asked.

“That’s not the problem. The Governing Council wants to reduce the size of the military, despite the fact that nothing actually changed after they had the vote and we’ve still got Zsinj and Gideon and half a dozen other warlords out there.”

Her voice very dry, Leia said, “There’s a faction in the Council that believes that once we have an established government again with a senate and maybe a chancellor or a president or whatever we decide to call it that most of the Remnant holdouts and the independents will fall in line.”

Hera rolled her eyes. “Has Borsk Fey’lya actually talked to any of the independents?”

“You can tell me if you think your father would pick up his calls.”

Hera snorted softly. Ryloth had refused the offer to formally join the Rebel Alliance until certain conditions were met, which the Alliance Council had been refusing to grant for the past year. With the Curia in disarray after almost twenty years of the Empire doing its best to delegitimize it, Cham Syndulla had managed to get the bulk of political power on Ryloth in his own hands, for better or worse. “Not the last time I spoke to him, which was only two weeks ago. We’re getting off-topic, Airen. And yes, the pension would be useful; just use the carbonite forms and leave the being dead part out of it; it isn’t like it’s never happened before. But that’s not what I’m talking about.”

“Starfighter Command won’t accept your resignation without a good reason, and maybe not even then,” Cracken said, with a wince at the words “carbonite forms.” They hadn’t been used often, but they were a datawork nightmare for everyone involved.

“Why not? I’m a decent combat commander, but there are plenty of others who are just as good or better, and you can’t tell me that some of the people thinking about retiring wouldn’t be just as happy training pilots, so I’m not exactly necessary there.”

He ticked off reasons on his fingers. “You’re young, you’re pretty, you’re a woman, you’re not human, you’re a general – for that matter, you’re from one of the independent worlds in the Outer Rim and in high society back on Ryloth, even if most Core Worlders see that as the back of beyond – because most Core Worlders see that as the back of beyond –”

Hera frowned. “What does any of that have to do with it?”

“Apparently Ackbar had this conversation with Wedge Antilles while you were gone over some hot new project Antilles has in mind – nothing to do with you, but Antilles pointed out that most of the best-known officers in the Alliance – excuse me, the New Republic – are human, and mostly male. Except for you,” he added to Leia, who grimaced. “You, General Hera Syndulla,” Cracken went on, pointing at her, “are a PR officer’s dream. I guarantee that whenever you get back to the Lodestar there will be a message waiting for you with orders to report for a HoloNet interview and probably a photoshoot. All very reserved but sexy, to make it clear that the New Republic is open to everyone and that we’re not the Empire; even a Twi’lek woman can rise high.”

Hera fought down the memory of the younger Hera’s anguished voice saying, Most humans just think certain things about Twi’lek women. I’m sure even your Rebel Alliance is like that. “If you’re trying to convince me not to resign, it’s not working.”

“It won’t matter, because Starfighter Command won’t accept your resignation, and Ackbar won’t for the same reason if you try to go over their heads to him. He doesn’t look good on the front of a holomag unless you happen to be another Mon Cala.”

Hera rubbed a hand over her face. “Please just stop talking or I won’t even bother with resigning and just desert.”

“Yes, please do,” Leia said dryly. To Hera she added, “You’re not the only one, but I don’t work as well for it because I’m human and a princess of Alderaan. And married, but a really good reporter could spin that if they wanted to.”

“I’m trying to get married,” Hera pointed out. “Get to the point, Airen.”

“You were seconded to Intelligence for this operation,” Cracken said. “I can’t accept your resignation, but I could give you a new assignment. And right now no one’s going to notice if you’re transferred here permanently, with all the datawork chaos from the transition.” He held up a hand to still her protest. “You may need a New Republic general’s authority if you’re out in the Unknown Regions searching for a missing Imperial fleet. We’ve had rumors about Thrawn for years; he’s been the bogeyman beneath the Alliance’s bed since well before Endor. Since Jakku, more than a few Imperials have vanished, claiming they’re off to find him. If he’s out there, then we need to find him before they do, and they have a head start.”

Hera leaned back in her chair, frowning. “Starfighter Command is not going to like you poaching me anymore than they’ll like me resigning.”

Cracken and Leia exchanged a glance. “I can handle the fallout,” Leia said. “There’s enough else going on right now that no one is going to notice for a while, since you’re seconded already.”

Hera turned her frown on Cracken. “What do you get out of this?”

“We get someone out in the Unknown Regions looking for Thrawn,” Cracken said, raising an eyebrow. “Which I’ve been asking for since Endor, but we’ve never had the resources to send anyone out there. We still don’t, but if you’re going anyway –” He tilted his head.

Hera suspected there was a trap in here somewhere, but as it went Intelligence didn’t have so many generals in it that anyone but Cracken could give her orders. “I agree with conditions,” she said.

“What are those?”

“I don’t answer to anyone but you – or Ackbar,” she had to concede, since as the commander-in-chief of the New Republic military he had precedence even over divisional commands, “– and my crew draws a salary.”

Cracken closed his eyes briefly, clearly annoyed, but just said, “Agreed. We’ll discuss the specifics later.”

Hera and Leia left a few minutes after that, letting the door slide shut behind them as they stepped out into the corridor.

“I have something for you that I didn’t want to give you in front of General Cracken,” Hera told her quietly, drawing her aside into an empty room. She withdrew the box Bail Organa had given her from the bag slung over her shoulder, holding it out to Leia.

For a long moment Leia just looked at it. Eventually, she reached out, her fingers hovering just above the silver insignia inlaid in the fine wood of the lid, then she snatched her hand back as though she couldn’t bear to touch it. Hera didn’t protest, just waited patiently as Leia stared at it.

She hadn’t left her meeting with Bail Organa out of her report, though she hadn’t conveyed the exact content of their conversation either, not having a Jedi’s near-eidetic memory.

Finally, Leia reached out with shaking hands and took the box from her. She didn’t open it, just drew it in against herself, cradling it against her chest. Her voice a little shaky, she said, “He was…well?”

“Yes,” Hera said. She started to reach out, then hesitated, not certain if Leia wanted the comfort or not.

Leia didn’t seem to see her. She whispered, “They’ll live. They’ll all live. Somewhere else, even if not…here. They’ll live.” She bit her lip, then looked up, her eyes brimming with tears. “I’d like to be alone now.”

Hera nodded. She touched Leia’s shoulder briefly and found that the younger woman was trembling; Hera squeezed her shoulder and then left her alone, letting the door slide closed behind her.

She was on her way back to the Ghost, docked in one of the massive warship’s several bays, when she ran into Ahsoka. Hera stopped at the other woman’s gesture, stepping aside into a mostly empty wardroom. The only two officers already there cleared out when they saw Hera’s general’s insignia, saluting her briefly before they left.

Hera eyed Ahsoka a bit warily. While they had been friendly in the old days with Phoenix Squadron, Hera had never been able to feel anything other than resentful of Ahsoka’s return from Malachor, nor had she been able to shake the suspicion that the other woman was keeping something from her. Something had changed there, something more drastic than the circumstances had suggested. Hera was vaguely aware that that was more than a little unfair, given what those circumstances had been, but she couldn’t bring herself to care. It helped that since her return Ahsoka had avoided her and most of the other members of the Rebel Alliance, preferring to go off on her own rather than take any formal role.

“Before you ask,” Ahsoka said, “it was my decision to bring Jacen here. Sabine went to get him from Ryloth. I spoke to General Syndulla before she arrived.”

Hera felt the muscle in her jaw twitch. Political reasons meant her father couldn’t set foot on a New Republic ship and thus couldn’t have come with Jacen; Ahsoka must have been very convincing to get him to agree to this. “I hope you have a good explanation for why you thought my five-year-old son ought to be on a warship.”

Ahsoka tucked her hands behind her back, frowning. “Believe me, Hera, if I hadn’t thought it was necessary I never would have brought him here. Rex didn’t find me until after you had already left.”

“That still doesn’t explain why my son is here,” Hera said, crossing her arms over her chest.

“Because I didn’t think we would be able to get you back without him,” Ahsoka said. “And we nearly didn’t even with him here.”

Hera frowned at her. “Explain.”

Ahsoka sighed and looked around, then dropped into the nearest armchair and folded her legs in front of her. Hera sat too, a little stiffly; the chairs and couches in the room were all mismatched and hard-worn, but comfortable enough compared to the inside of a cockpit.

“When Luke sent you away – sent you over there – he had to have a – for lack of a better word, an anchor, a target. That was why they had to use you and not someone else.” She rubbed briefly at her forehead, suddenly looking every day of her thirty-odd years.

Hera nodded warily. “No one else with a high enough clearance for this op could be relatively certain of being able to access the same place they probably were before Scarif. We weren’t even sure just using the Ghost would work, except it did.”

“She – the Hera Syndulla from that universe, I mean – was there when you arrived?” Ahsoka inquired, looking briefly curious.

“Not in the room. She said she was just outside the ship – the Ghost was docked in a hangar on Naboo.”

“Hmm.” Ahsoka smoothed the side of her thumb over the armor plate resting across her crossed legs, her expression academically curious for an instant before she drew herself back to the subject at hand. “Having her there, in the Ghost, in a specific time span, gave Luke something to aim for. It could have been any number of other universes, too, other – other possibilities.”

Hera nodded. “Kanan – the other Kanan – said that the reason Luke had to use those constraints because he wasn’t aiming for anything very, very specific. He had to have a range, but not one which was too wide.”

Ahsoka frowned in thought. “I suppose. I didn’t think about it like that, but the dialect on the artifact is very archaic. My grasp on it is better than Luke’s, but I came to the same conclusion he did.” She looked up, her brows drawing together. “The…other Kanan. He didn’t use an artifact or a focus of any kind?”

Hera shook her head. “He said he didn’t need to. He said that Jedi didn’t use artifacts like that for anything they couldn’t do naturally, those just made it easier, but he also didn’t think he would be able to manage it if he didn’t know who he was looking for or if I wasn’t there, because otherwise he would have to – to sort through all the options, and he didn’t think he could do that.”

The other woman nodded slowly, her frown deepening. For a moment she looked like she was considering commenting on that, then she shook her head and said, “Anyway, that’s going there. Coming back is harder, especially since you’re not a Force-user and can’t direct yourself. Going there, the other Hera Syndulla could act as an anchor for you, to – to pull you into that universe. But to come back to this universe – well, you’re not here. You’re already gone. One of the holocrons Luke found talked about people getting lost in the transition.” She flattened her palms on her knees. “We didn’t find the reference until after you had left.”

“What does Jacen have to with any of that?” Hera asked, deciding to worry about that later.

“Jacen is your son,” Ahsoka said. “Blood of your blood, bone of your bone, to be old-fashioned about it. Your father probably would have worked just as well, but –”

“But he can’t set foot on an Alliance – a New Republic ship unless Ryloth joins the New Republic,” Hera said, rubbing a hand over her face. “You could have taken the Ghost to Ryloth instead of bringing Jacen here.”

Ahsoka shook her head. “The same reason but the other way around. And General Cracken wouldn’t allow it, since this was an Intelligence operation. I did ask.”

Hera ground her teeth and bit back her first few responses to that. When she didn’t say anything, Ahsoka went on, “We thought that Jacen would be able to serve as an anchor for you in this universe, especially because he’s Force-sensitive. We weren’t counting on –”

“Kanan?” Hera filled in for her when she hesitated, and Ahsoka winced.

“No. He…probably helped you along, but it’s hard to tell. It’s not like any of this has been done in living memory.” She glanced aside, clearly uncomfortable.

“Jacen is Kanan’s son too,” Hera pointed out.

“Yes,” Ahsoka admitted, looking even more uncomfortable. “I’m sure that helped. I don’t know what would have happened if your father had been here instead of Jacen.” She added with the ghost of a smile, “You should probably comm your father when you have a chance.”

“I’ll do that,” Hera said dryly. “He’d probably like to know that Kanan’s back and we’re getting married, too.”

Ahsoka sat up so abruptly that Hera heard her back pop. “What?”

“We’re getting married,” Hera repeated, raising an eyebrow.

Ahsoka pushed to her feet and paced the room, as if she suddenly couldn’t bear being seated any longer. Hera turned her head to watch her, frowning. “Do you have a problem with that?”

“No, of course not,” Ahsoka said, her voice strained and the words seemingly automatic; almost in the same breath she finished, “Yes.”

Hera felt the muscle in her jaw jump. “You and Kanan used to be friends.” You and I used to be friends, she thought, but held back the words. They weren’t enemies, but it had been a long time since they had been friends. Some of that was due to Hera’s inability to look at any Force-user without thinking, it should have been Kanan, but Ahsoka had pulled away from everyone except Rex after she had come back from Malachor.

Ahsoka stopped pacing. She was still facing away from Hera, but Hera could tell that she had her arms crossed over her chest, her shoulders hunched in. “We were. We are.”

Hera rubbed a hand over her face. She wanted to go back to the Ghost, reassure herself of Kanan’s presence, hug her son, and comm her father, but apparently she had to deal with this first. “Do you have something against my son?”

“Jacen’s a very nice boy,” Ahsoka said without turning around. She was quiet for a long moment, then she said, “Do you know who Luke’s father is?”

“A Jedi Knight who was killed during the Purge,” Hera said. She and Luke had talked about it a little when they had been stationed on Hoth together; he had sought her out after someone had told him about Kanan and Ezra.

“Anakin Skywalker,” Ahsoka said, a wealth of pain in her voice. “He was my master. And he didn’t die during the Purge.” She took a deep breath, then turned around to face Hera. “You might know him better as Darth Vader.”

Hera blinked rapidly.

“I don’t think – I know Kanan. I knew Kanan. The situation isn’t the same. I just –” Ahsoka bit her lower lip.

“You had better not be saying what it sounds like you’re saying,” Hera said quietly.

Ahsoka closed her eyes briefly. “After – Malachor – I did some digging. During the Clone War I’d made assumptions – well, we all had. It’s not as though Jedi never had affairs, though we weren’t permitted commitments outside the Order. And Padmé – Luke’s mother – had been a friend of mine. We all knew they were having an affair. Except it wasn’t an affair. They had been married in secret just after the war started.” There was agony on her face as she looked at Hera. “Anakin broke his vows, and because of it the Order died. They all died.”

Hera got to her feet. “Kanan isn’t him.”

“I know that!” Ahsoka snapped. She took a deep breath, putting one hand on the back of the chair nearest her.

“And the Jedi Order is a generation in its grave. There’s no one left but you and Kanan.”

“I know that too,” Ahsoka said. She was clutching the back of the chair so tightly that Hera heard the suede of her gauntlets creak.

Hera crossed her arms over her chest. “Does Luke know you knew his father?”

Ahsoka shook her head. “Knowing wouldn’t serve any purpose. The Anakin Skywalker I knew…” She let the words trail off, then shook her head again. “I can’t look at him and think of anything but what Anakin did, and I won’t burden him with that more than he is already. That’s not a ghost he needs to carry with him.”

“Is it one that you need to?” Hera asked her quietly.

“If I could set it aside I would,” Ahsoka said. She sounded unspeakably weary. “But everyone I know died. That isn’t an exaggeration. Everyone I know – except Rex – died because of him, because he decided to break his vows and we all loved him so much we let him.” She rubbed a hand over her face, briefly dislodging her headband. “Hera, it’s nothing against Kanan, truly, or you, or Jacen. But Anakin was a good person too, and so was Padmé. And – and everyone died. All of them. Padmé, Obi-Wan, the Order, the clones, the Republic – they all died because of Anakin. The Emperor as well, but – Anakin sided with that. And I’ll never know why, not really. I did what I could to find out, but – but everyone is dead. There’s no one left who knows. They’re all dead. And Anakin did that.”

She looked up at Hera. “That’s what I see every time I look at Luke. I won’t give him that burden, but I can’t set it aside either.”

“Is that what you think about Kanan and me?” Hera asked her. “That we’re on the knife’s edge of everyone dying?”

“No,” Ahsoka said. “No. But when you said it –” She hesitated, then went on, “– when you said it, it was the only thing I could think of. And I know you and I knew Kanan, but I knew Anakin too.” She looked at the chair she was gripping, then sighed and moved around to drop into it. “I knew you and Kanan were involved before, but I didn’t – I didn’t have to know it, if that makes sense. And I didn’t know about Anakin then. When I came back, I did know, and – and you had Jacen. And Luke was there too, and I couldn’t…I couldn’t bear it. I know it’s not fair,” she added defensively as Hera glared at her.

“No, it’s not.” She tried to bite back the sarcasm in her voice, but suspected she didn’t succeed. She stood there, looking at Ahsoka’s slumped form in the armchair, and said the first thing that came to mind, “Did you tell Kanan you were worried about him snapping and murdering us all?”

Ahsoka looked badly startled. “No, of course not. We had other things to discuss.” She grimaced, then added, “And Luke was there, and some of what I have to say to Kanan I won’t say in front of him.”

Oh, this should be good, Hera thought. She had always thought of Ahsoka as fairly even-tempered, but the handful of occasions where she hadn’t managed to avoid Luke had been memorable for everyone with the misfortune to be in the vicinity. “Then if you’re not going to say it to me, I need to go comm my father.”

She was almost at the door when Ahsoka said slowly, “Hera –”

She turned back. “What?”

Ahsoka bit her lower lip. She was quiet for a long moment, then she said, “Ezra could have brought Kanan back six years ago, when he brought me back, and I stopped him.”

Hera froze.

Ahsoka looked back at her, her gaze weary. “There was a reason –”

“I don’t care,” Hera said. Her mind felt as though it had gone blank with either shock or rage; she wasn’t sure which at this point. She balled up her fists at her sides, not certain either whether she just needed something to do with her hands or if she was trying not to hit Ahsoka. “I don’t care,” she said again, and was surprised to find that it was the truth. She took a shuddering breath, because Kanan was here now and it really didn’t matter as long as Ahsoka didn’t try to remedy what she clearly thought of as a mistake. Then her mind caught up with the rest of what Ahsoka had said and she snapped, “Do you know where Ezra is?”

“No,” Ahsoka said. She had sat up straight, but not risen. “This was before he went missing – from what Sabine’s told me, from when he went inside the Jedi Temple on Lothal.”

Less than a day after Kanan had died.

Hera stared at her, trying to think of something to say. She only realized she had put her hand over her stomach when she felt the edge of her belt buckle pressing into the side of her hand. She had been pregnant then and only just beginning to realize it; she wouldn’t be certain for another few weeks.

Hera still had nightmares about that day.

“I told Ezra I would find him,” Ahsoka said.

“Don’t bother,” Hera said. “We’ll do that.”

She turned and left.

She felt as if she was having an out of body experience, her hands still shaking, the ordinary ship sounds around her strangely muted, even the recycled air moving across her face every time she passed a vent seemingly alien. Whatever expression was on her face seemed to warn anyone off; passing crew members or pilots veered around her.

Slowly – painfully slowly – reality reasserted itself, and by the time she had reached the hangar bay where the Ghost was docked she was breathing normally again, the sound of her footsteps on the durasteel floor familiar instead of muffled. When she tapped her code into the Ghost’s locking mechanism and waited for the ramp to lower she almost didn’t feel like screaming anymore.

Once inside she raised the ramp again, then just stood with her forehead tipped against the ladder leading up to the cockpit, aware of the sound of voices from up above. Kanan’s was one of them, though several layers of deck and closed doors made it impossible for her to make out the words. She let the cool metal of the ladder leech out her remaining anger until she finally felt calm enough to climb up and follow the voices into the common room.

She stopped in the doorway, fighting back her instinct to burst into immediate tears. Kanan was sitting on the floor with Jacen, his expression somewhere between stunned and awed. Jacen had brought out the box of toys Hera kept on the Ghost, as well as some that he must have brought with him from Ryloth, and was gravely showing them to Kanan. He did this by putting each one into Kanan’s left hand, then guiding Kanan’s right hand over the toy – at the moment it was a large stuffed anooba plush that Numa had made him several years earlier. Sabine and Zeb were sitting at the holotable, watching them and looking like they weren’t terribly far from tears either. Chopper was watching too, and somehow managed to look as emotional as it was possible for an astromech droid to get, though at Hera’s approach he chortled a greeting.

“Mama!” Jacen said gleefully, abandoning the anooba in Kanan’s hands, and scrambled up to run to her.

Hera hugged him, kissing his hair. “Hi, baby. Are you and your father and Auntie Sabine and Uncle Zeb having fun?”

Jacen nodded enthusiastically and tugged her towards Kanan and the pile of toys. “Look what Grandpapa gave me!”

Hera sat down next to Kanan and leaned over to kiss him, then turned her attention to the delicately carved nunas-and-gutkurrs set Jacen showed her. After he was certain she had seen it, he took each small animal out of the case to hand to Kanan, who inspected it solemnly with his fingers before passing it back and accepting the next one. Hera had had a similar set when she was a child, but had lost most of the pieces by the time she was ten.

“So are you heading back to Starfighter Command now?” Zeb said eventually, his voice elaborately casual. Chopper echoed the question, curious.

“No,” Hera said. “I’m transferring permanently to Intelligence, and there’s something I need to talk to all of you about.”

Sabine, who had been slouching and picking at some peeling paint on her knuckle plates, sat up straight. “We’re going after Ezra?”

Hera stared at her. “I didn’t even say anything!”

Sabine waved a hand. “It’s the only thing it could be, now that Kanan’s back.” She grinned happily at him. “Unless you wanted to stay and help Luke with his mission to restore the Jedi.”

Kanan grimaced. “He seems like a nice kid, but I just spent three hours in the middle of a doctrinal dispute and I didn’t even think I still had standards for heresy.”

They all stared at him.

“…what,” Zeb said eventually.

He winced. “Don’t ask. I was afraid to because I’m pretty sure I disagree with both of them, but pointing that out just now seemed like it was asking for trouble.”

“Amateurs,” Sabine sniffed. “No one’s dead yet. By Mandalorian standards that’s barely even a spirited debate.”

“To be fair, two of us were dead,” Kanan pointed out dryly. “We just happened to get better.”

“Yeah, but you didn’t die from the doctrinal debate, so it doesn’t count.”

“That’s because every time the Jedi have a doctrinal debate that results in someone dying it also results in a galactic civil war that lasts for years and kills hundreds of thousands of other people,” Kanan said. “So we try to avoid getting to that point.”

Sabine shrugged. “Maybe if you had those more often you’d have smaller civil wars.”

Zeb frowned at her. “Isn’t that why all you Mandalorians hate each other in the first place?”

“Not as much as we hate anyone who tries to interfere in our civil wars.”

Zeb gave Hera a pained expression.

“Don’t look at me,” Hera said, gathering Jacen into her lap. “Ryloth was still having blood feuds between clans three generations ago, and even now you shouldn’t try to get a Fenn and a Kru in the same room together if you don’t want trouble.”

Sabine pointed at her. “See, someone who understands me.”

“I don’t think anyone understands you,” Zeb muttered. “Back on Lasan – and Lira San – we all just sued each other.”

“Well, that sounds boring.”

“And dueling, but that’s been illegal for a century – two on Lira San. And that’s only for extreme cases anyway.”

“Now we’re talking,” Sabine said, sounding more satisfied as Chopper chuckled agreement. “I was starting to get worried for a moment there.”

“About what?” Kanan wondered out loud. “It’s not like there aren’t lawyers on Mandalore.”

“Well, not anymore,” Sabine said.

Kanan raised an eyebrow at her, then visibly decided not to pursue that line of questioning any further and went on, “And I’m pretty sure under the circumstances trying to kill either Luke or Ahsoka would have been a bad idea.”

Hera felt the muscle in her jaw twitch again. Jacen turned his face up to her, feeling her sudden tension, and Hera hugged him. Kanan picked up one of Jacen’s discarded toys, a small stuffed Loth-wolf, and balanced it briefly on the palm of his hand. Then he turned his hand sideways, the Loth-wolf remaining suspended in mid-air, and sent the Loth-wolf galloping towards Jacen. He bounced with glee, making Hera let out a soft oof, and caught it.

“I can do that too!” He narrowed his eyes in concentration, then sent the Loth-wolf back to Kanan. It wobbled a little in mid-air, but Kanan caught it easily, grinning. He picked up the anooba Jacen had shown him earlier.

Jacen put his hands out gleefully, not waiting for Kanan to send it to him. It sailed through the air to him and he hugged it, then he caught the Loth-wolf that Kanan sent after it.

“Hold that for a few minutes, love, we need to talk,” Hera told him. She settled him more comfortably in her lap – he was heavier than she remembered him being, but then again she hadn’t seen him in person for several months – and looked at the rest of her crew.

Her crew.

She, Zeb, Sabine, and Chopper had only been in the same place a handful of times over the past six years, and Kanan hadn’t been there at all. Hera had served with a number of people whom she had gotten along with, many of whom she had liked, but none of them were the three beings and one droid in the room with her now – in the Ghost with her now. She had thought that she would go to her grave without ever having this again.

Hera swallowed past the lump in her throat. “There have been rumors about Grand Admiral Thrawn and the Seventh Fleet for years,” she said. Zeb knew some of this, but she didn’t think Sabine did and Kanan certainly didn’t. “Rebel Intelligence has never been able to confirm that they’re still out there or that Thrawn was in touch with the Emperor – or anyone from the Remnant, for that matter. Because we’ve been busy dealing with the warlords since Endor, General Cracken – that’s the head of Intelligence,” she added for Kanan’s benefit, “– hasn’t been able to send anyone out into the Unknown Regions to investigate the rumors.”

“What happened to General Draven?” Kanan asked, startled; the previous head of Rebel Intelligence had been on Yavin while they had been there.

“He died,” Hera said. “Five years ago.”

Kanan winced.

“So since we’re going to be out there anyway, we might as well do it with Alliance – Republic – authority?” Sabine said. She cocked an eyebrow at Hera. “That is what you said to Cracken?”

“More or less,” Hera said. “Doing it with Republic authority was his idea. I was just going to resign.” She hesitated, then added, “I can’t order you – any of you – to come. But I’ve let this go long enough and I won’t wait any longer.” She couldn’t help but look at Kanan as she went on, “Ezra is family, and we’ve all lost enough family to the Empire.”

“I’m in,” Sabine said.

“Me too,” Zeb said. Chopper chortled agreement.

Kanan just leaned over and kissed her.

Hera let out her breath, relief making her shoulders slump. “All right,” she said. “Make your arrangements. We have to take Jacen back to Ryloth.” She smiled at Kanan. “And we’re getting married.”

That got them a round of back-slapping and congratulations and promising not to actually do it until both Sabine and Zeb could be there. By the time they were all settled down again, Hera was flushed with happiness, leaning against Kanan’s shoulder with her other arm around her son.

We’re all right, she thought, looking around at her crew – at her family. We’re all going to be all right.

#cut scenes and concept writing #other side au tag #also a peak example of 'I prefer to work things out in fic versus writing meta' re ahsoka here

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sitcomified · 3 years

Text

fighting dragons with you

summary: amy gets injured on a case and jake pays her a visit. (pre-canon) word count: 3.5k rating: teen?

read below or on AO3

content warning for minor depictions of violence and general discussions of assault

Amy Santiago wrote her life plan when she was sixteen years old, and revisits it each month like clockwork. She figured out from a young age that if she could clearly define a set of rules to follow to a tee, then she would never fall off course. Most nights, the three inch purple binder lives on her bedside table, where after long days of life-threatening work, she can put everything into perspective. Most days, the plan works out great for her. But she’s not invincible. She still scrapes gum off her brand new shoes and wrestles with her too warm pillow.

It’s not that she can’t deal with unpredictable situations. If anything, being almost comically prepared for every possible situation has made the challenge of taking on these changes that much more thrilling. She knows she excels at tasks that demand quick thinking and efficient problem solving. Hell, that’s why she became a cop.

Amy clocked into work two minutes late that morning. She stared at her watch, already mentally preparing how she would make it up to her squad (even though a quick glance around the bullpen would let her know that she was still the first officer there for her shift.)

By the time her partner showed up nearly thirty minutes late—an occurrence so routine she’d be surprised if anyone even noticed—Amy was already wrapping up her first report of the day. As she reached across her desk for the folder containing crime scene evidence, her partner finally acknowledged her.

“Nice spiderman band-aid,” Jake greeted her, gesturing to her right hand. She sighed deeply. The band-aid in question is nursing a particularly nasty paper cut from when she tried to intercept one of her partner's paper airplanes (probably made from some actually important file) the previous day. Amy rinsed the cut under the precinct kitchenette’s ice-cold water, swearing she’d be fine for the rest of the day, but her finger still stung when she got home and discovered that her only first aid supplies were from the last time her nephews visited.

“Hello Detective Peralta,” Amy replied, trying to salvage any semblance of workplace professionalism. Honestly, she wasn’t even sure if her partner’s retort warranted a response.

“Aw, is that your pet name for me?” he joked, clearly not wanting to drop their banter, “I’m going to call you sugar...nose.” He extended a finger and lightly tapped her on the nose, to emphasize the point.

Amy flinched in response. “Sugarnose?” she repeated incredulously.

“Yeah I didn’t want it to be too sexual, and then I panicked,” Jake explained. Amy half expected him to follow it up with one of the “title of your sex tape” jokes that he was so prone to making, but thankfully, today she would be spared.

It wasn’t that she didn’t like Peralta. At his best, he could be just as sharp a detective as she was. The problem was, that was rarely ever his goal. He showed open disrespect for any authority that would dare get in his way, almost as if it were a game to him. On the field, he spent more time trying to portray himself as an action movie star than trying to catch criminals, and she’d be surprised if he actually followed any of the NYPD’s safety guidelines.

Her day went on as it usually did. Finishing up reports, interviewing witnesses, investigating a crime scene—fortunately on her own. Amy had no idea why Captain McGintley was so adamant about partnering her and Peralta. Their approaches to every aspect of police work seemed fundamentally incompatible. Her captain probably just needed someone responsible to babysit New York’s Least Mature Detective (a title he had bestowed upon himself) in the field. It was a horribly sexist and insulting implication that gave Amy flashbacks to a whole childhood’s worth of classroom seating charts and group projects, where she was put in the exact same position.

That afternoon, just as she was getting into the rhythm of responding to the perpetual flood of emails in her inbox, Peralta tore her away from her work to go on a stakeout for a case they were working on, insisting that the new lead was “actually legit this time.”

When Amy left the precinct she was surprised to see that her partner decided not to “ball out” and instead opted for a sensible SUV for their stake out. “Nice ride, Peralta.”

“Thanks, I borrowed it from some guy Diaz is testifying against,” he said smugly. Amy raised her eyebrows in return. Of course there would be a catch. “Kidding,” he reassured her. “It’s the precinct’s, I’m surprised you don’t like have the license plates memorized by now.”

Amy wasn’t sure if she should feel relieved or insulted by that. She had only been there a couple months, surely that wasn’t an expectation; if it was, it was never conveyed to her in the brief amount of training she received. Regardless, she responded, “very funny, but I’m still driving.”

Jake soured with mock offense, “Seriously, Santiago? You think that my driving is more dangerous than that drug ring you busted last month?”

“I’m a detective. I know that I might die on the force. What I’m absolutely not okay with is dying because some idiot would rather play air guitar than follow basic road safety concepts,” Amy said, crossing her arms. On their last stakeout, they almost lost their perp during his particularly enthusiastic rendition of Lose Yourself.

“Too-shee,” he responded, with a smirk on his lips. He was messing with her. Surely, he wasn’t actually that dumb.

Amy corrected him, “you know it’s pronounced touché.”

“Ok nerd,” he replied, and tossed her the car keys. “But I get to stay on AUX.”

She was a bit taken aback by how quickly he agreed to cooperate with her. “You’ve gotta stay focused,” she added, as she climbed into the car. There was a foul smell that she couldn’t quite place. All the more reason to rush this.

“Of course I am a professional, Santiago,” he said from the passenger seat. He reached into his bag and pulled out a giant pack of Cheetos. “Want one?” he offered. She shook her head in disgust.

“Alright, so the informant, Dragos, said the operation is based out of a pharmacy on Atlantic, I assume that’s where we’re going?” Amy asked, as she started the car.

“Toit, and also holy shit is that his real name?” Jake questioned, eyes wide. “That’s badass.”

Amy frowned. “Did you even read the case file?”

“I skimmed it. Your sentences are all so long!” he complained.

“I’m sorry that I’m thorough and I actually follow procedure. Maybe you should take a cue from me, I mean that’s gotta be why McGintley assigned us to this case,” she said.

Jake laughed at her. “I have the most arrests in the precinct,” he bragged. Amy wanted to bring up that arrests weren’t actually a good indication of community safety, but she couldn’t quite bring herself to articulate the problem to him once more.

“That’s just because you make Boyle do all your paperwork,” she retaliated. “If you did everything you were supposed to, you know that I’d be ahead of you.”

Jake stopped fiddling with the car’s radio, and turned to face Amy. “First of all, Boyle loves paperwork. And for the record, I actually asked the Captain to put us together on this case.”

“Exactly, because you knew I would do all the work,” Amy said, smugly.

“No! It’s ‘cause I knew it was a tough one, and you’re obviously super smart.” Amy blushed a little. She assumed that Jake thought as little of her as she did of him. “Plus, I heard you talking to Diaz about how you weren’t getting any good cases,” he continued. She’s surprised, not at what he noticed, but the fact that he actually cared enough to try and fix her problems. It was true that McGintley was underutilizing her—the other day he had her spend an hour finding an anniversary present for his wife.

“Well, thanks,” Amy responded with an awkward smile. “I didn’t think you cared.”

“‘Course, you’re part of the 99 now. Anything for the squad.” he said. Right, Jake was just doing what any good cop would do for their team. He didn’t actually care about her, at least not enough to not get cheeto crumbs on the seat that she’d have to clean up.

Jake points at the car’s speaker system at the next red light. “Hey, do you know how this works?”

“Do you seriously not know?” she teased. It was a strikingly simple set up.

“Obviously not, or else we’d be listening to my sick beats right now.” Jake said. “My car still uses cassettes exclusively and I fear my mixtapes would cause this lame car to spontaneously combust.”

Amy sighed. “Here, give me your phone,” she told him, and plugged in the audio cable. Immediately music started blaring out of the speakers. She recognizes the opening chords instantly and starts laughing. “Is this what you listen to?” she asked.

Jake started frantically pushing buttons on the dashboard, only making the music louder by accident. “No. I swear I don’t know how this got on here.” Amy grinned. It was so rare that she had the upper hand in embarrassing him and she was already thinking of how to capitalize on it.

“Keep it on,” she said, guiding his hands away from the speaker system before he had the chance to break something. “I like this song.” He leaned back in his seat and helped himself to another handful of Cheetos. Amy returned her focus to navigating the complex puzzle of Brooklyn traffic.

Over the revving motors and honking of angry drivers, she heard him begin to sing along. It wasn’t obnoxiously loud and it didn’t feature impromptu parody lyrics. His voice was surprisingly soft, and she wondered if he was even conscious of his singing. She was perplexed by how he managed to focus on nothing and everything at the same time. How he managed to let loose in the most tense situations. Amy couldn’t even bring herself to have that kind of fun when she specifically scheduled it in her planner.

What the hell, they were still a fifteen minute drive from the pharmacy. She joined in with the chorus. He looked at her with a confused, yet happy, expression, and ramped up his volume, and even incorporated his own dance moves. “Damn, Santiago, didn’t know you had it in you,” he said, after they finished the chorus on a tone-deaf harmony.

“There’s a lot you don’t know about me, Peralta,” she replied, raising her eyebrows with feigned confidence.

Jake chuckled and opened his mouth; she assumed to argue, but instead he just continued the second verse. She didn’t know the rest of the lyrics, and she certainly couldn’t decipher them from the dramatic voices he was adding into it.

“Hey isn’t that our guy,” he interrupted, pointing to a man who was standing by the trash cans on the corner, despite his right of way. Amy paused and took a closer look. Surely enough, their perp, Andrei Volkov, was standing there, waiting for the deal they had been told would occur miles away.

“Oh my god,” Amy said, turning to park their car just out of eyesight.

“Luckily he didn’t seem interested enough in the two adult Taylor Swift fans, to notice we’re a police vehicle.” Jake replied. He leaned towards the trunk window to sneak a better view of their target.

“Do you want to call for backup?” Amy asked. “How many guys are there?”

“Looks like about three, and it seems pretty exposed for back up unless they have access to one of the houses,” Jake said, propping himself back in the seat. “I think we should be good.”

Amy paused for a second. Her instinct was always to air on the side of caution, but Jake had proven himself to be more reasonable than she assumed. “Okay, I trust you,” she said.

“Take my lead,” he instructed, before she could argue, and secured his vest as he left the car. Amy followed him out hesitantly, one hand hovering protectively over her radio. They crossed the street while Volkov’s back was turned. As soon as they made eye contact, Jake whipped out his gun, and cornered him against the lamp post. “NYPD, you’re under arrest.” Amy instinctually dove behind the trash can. Through the grated metal she could see both of Volkov’s men pull their guns at Jake from behind his back. She can’t quite recognize exactly which members of the operation they are. He held one hand on Volkov while he turned to face the others. They kept their guns raised in his direction.

“Here’s the deal, come back to my precinct, and I won’t shoot. I’m all alone out here.” Jake kicks the trashcan Amy is ducked behind. Then twice, to get her attention. And again. The Funky Cold Medina, she realized. Amy felt her heart pounding all the way in her fingers and toes.

“What’s the matter with your leg, pig,” one of the men scoffed. She recognized the voice. Apparently Dragos was more involved in the operation than he led on, and had intentionally given her the wrong address. Amy reached for her gun and jumped up, turning to cover Jake.

“Hey, you’re the lady with the thank you notes,” Dragos said, as he lowered his weapon, “almost made me feel bad for lying to you.”

Amy fixed her eyes in his direction, “yeah well, thanks for nothing.”

“That was a pretty weak comeback, Santiago,” Jake muttered from her side. She shot him a nasty look.

“Your partner’s right,” Volkov added, still struggling against the lamppost.

“Nice try but you’re still arrested,” Jake said, as he reached for his handcuffs and began reciting the Miranda Rights. Amy stared down the other two men in the meantime, instructing them to drop any weapons they’re carrying. They obeyed and placed their guns at her feet. Just as they began to stand up, Dragos punched Amy in the face, his ring leaving a deep gash on her cheek. The metallic taste of blood floods her mouth. Her vision was blurred as tears welled up in her eyes, causing searing pain in the open wound.

Dragos started to bolt but Jake managed to trip him and keep him pinned to the ground. He struggled to handle both perps, however, and Amy watched as the third man ran away. She tried to chase after him, but she was too shocked to make it any farther. “Dragos, you’re coming with me,” Jake said, locking the handcuffs in place. “Amy, I’m calling you an ambulance.”

She was too dishevelled to protest.

That night, Amy’s brother drove her home from the hospital where she received seven stitches. Half her face was still numb from the anesthesia. Still, the second she got her phone back, she sent a text to her partner: “LMK if you need help processing.”

Half an hour later she heard her apartment buzzer go off. She paused her episode of Jeopardy, kicked on her fluffy slippers, and answered it.

“Delivery for Lady Amy Santiago,” Jake said, in a terribly butchered British accent through the phone.

“Come up,” she replied, stifling a laugh. The meds had worn her down enough that she could fully embrace his immature humor.

Three minutes later Jake announced himself with a knock on her door. “Alright, so I got you this. Hope you like shitty diner food because that’s all that’s open right now,” he held up two take out bags. Through the semi-opaque plastic she noticed two liters of the horrible orange soda he spilled on her desk once and still couldn’t get the stain out from.

“Yeah that’s fine,” she said, gesturing for him to come take a seat. She braced herself to be tormented for her decor. Suddenly she realized Jake came all the way to her house for her. He didn’t have to be here. Why was he here? “Thanks, by the way. You didn’t have to do any of this.”

He took a seat on her couch and plopped the bags on her coffee table. She never ate there, it was reserved for drinks, at most, but she didn’t correct him. Especially when he was doing her a favor “I know. I wanted to though. I also finished processing Dragos and Volkov, all by myself,” he said.

“Why are you being so nice to me?” Amy asked flatly. She peered into the bag and examined the feast he brought: two cheeseburgers, a plate of chicken tenders, one hamburger, a salad, about three orders of fries, and of course the two orange sodas. For someone who was proudly in debt, he sure spent a lot on this meal.

“Cause it’s my fault you’re like this,” he said. Amy wanted to protest, he made a bad call re-backup, but she could have gotten injured either way. “Also you’re so hopped up on painkillers there’s no way you’ll remember this,” he added, cracking a smile. He really wasn’t capable of a genuine moment.

Amy rolled her eyes at him. “It’s not that much stronger than Advill, and memory loss isn’t a side effect,”

“Hmm,” he frowned, “we’ll see about that tomorrow.”

Amy froze. “I hope you’re not here to try anything,” she said, half joking. Jake was a jerk, but she never thought he would stoop that low. Even still, she couldn’t let her guard down that much.

“Oh, God no, absolutely not. I would never take advantage of you—of anyone—like that. Is that what you thought?” Jake stammered, scooching himself away from her on the couch. He looked as if he had seen a ghost or something, and his messy hair only added to the effect.

“I dunno,” Amy said, “I guess I can’t be too trusting.” She took out a container full of fries and handed him one as a peace offering.

“Right, right, men are a nightmare,” Jake agreed through a mouthful of potato. He even didn’t try to distance himself from “other men”, or go with the “but I’d never do that route”. Her chest was heavy with guilt at the thought of making such an implication.

“No, no, no, it’s fine, really. Sorry for accusing you.” Amy said.

“It’s not fine. And you shouldn’t apologize because that’s a real fear. It’s on me,” he replied. She looked at him with confusion. It was rare for guys to understand that much. “And I’m sorry for being such a dick to you these past few months,” he blurted out.

Amy couldn’t believe that the guy sitting in her apartment was the same one who decided to address her via paper airplane for a week, and only stopped when he ran out of papers on his desk. “Hey I wasn’t much better. I was so obsessed with out-doing you, I never went to you for help—” he shot her an expectant glance,“—also I’m sorry for ratting you out all the time.” He nodded, and helped himself to another fry from her container.

“Why are you so competitive?” he asked through a mouthful of potato. She noticed a bit of ketchup on his chin and reached for a napkin.

“I have seven brothers,” she provided him with the stock answer.

“I know that,” he said, “that doesn’t answer my question.”

She pauses. “My parents were always comparing us, so many siblings meant the bar for anything was set super high, I don’t know, that sort of stuff.”

��But why do you care?” he pushed. She hadn’t ever considered that before. The endless treadmill she shoved herself on was just always there. Even when she knew the goals she set were irrational she would just keep running, because the idea of falling off was so much worse.

“I guess it makes me worried, if I’m not measuring up,” she confessed. “I feel like I did something wrong.”

“You know you’re crazy, right?” he asked, smirking at her.

Amy rifled through the bottom of the takeout bag. “Did they give you any mustard packets?” she asked.

“Nah. But, as your self-appointed guardian angel, I will go to the bodega and get you some,” he said, picking up the jacket he threw on her floral carpet.

“You don’t have to do that, really,” Amy insisted.

He looked back at her as if the very notion were ridiculous. “Amy, you just got injured in the line of duty. If all you want is mustard, you can have all the mustard in the world.”

“Thanks, Jake. You’re a really good friend,” she ventured. She waited for a moment, to see how he would respond, hopefully solidifying their friendship. Maybe she was friendzoning advances she wasn’t even aware of. Maybe he was confused, and he was just doing a nice thing for a coworker.

“You too,” Jake said. However he interpreted all the implications, he didn’t let her know. “When I get back we’re watching Die-Hard!” he added as he rushed out the door. Amy smiled to herself as she heard the lock click into place.

#tropetember #b99 #brooklyn nine nine #b99 fic #brooklyn nine nine fic #jake peralta #amy santiago #tropetember day 1 #peraltiago #peraltiago fic #my fic

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justheretobreakthings · 3 years

Text

Hold On Loosely

So, this was originally in the process of being written for a zine, but I wound up dropping out due to aphobia in the project. Which, well, sucked, and was one of the contributing factors of my less-than-great mood these past few days.

But, I wound up finishing the fic as its own thing, so I hope y’all enjoy. Have some pre-canon broganes fluff to lift the spirits.

Word Count: 2,545 Characters: Keith & Shiro Read on AO3 My house, my rules, my ko-fi

“Ooh, you know what looks good?” Shiro said, looking up from the table’s menu to grin over at Keith. “The chocolate lava cake. What do you say, you wanna split it with me?”

Keith shrugged, tilting his head to glance at the menu as well. He swallowed his bite of steak before slowly replying, “I dunno, it’s - it’s kind of expensive.”

“I told you, Keith, tonight’s my treat. Come on, if you don’t split it with me, I’ll just order it and eat the whole thing myself, and I will definitely get sick. So…”

“All right, fine, I’ll have the cake.”

“Great!” Shiro’s grin broadened as he waved their waitress down to place the order. “Every celebration needs cake,” he added to Keith as the waitress left. “Anyone who tries to limit it to birthdays is just close-minded.”

“I still don’t really think we, um, need to be celebrating,” Keith said.

Shiro huffed in mock exasperation. “Bud, your grades were great, you’re being too hard on yourself.”

“I didn’t even get all A’s or anything. And I had a C in Professor Antonsen’s class - ”

“Keith, I assure you, her class is the hardest in the whole academy. Matt didn’t even get an A in it. Chin up.” Shiro reached across the table with his fork, the last bite of his salmon still on the tips of the prongs, and tilted Keith’s head up to look at him. “Hey. I’m really proud of you. I mean it. You did great work, and you deserve to celebrate.”

Keith stared at him for a moment, as though mulling his words over, then a tiny smile escaped him as he tilted his head down and ate the bite of salmon off of Shiro’s fork, too quickly for the latter to move it out of the way.

“Barbaric,” Shiro gasped. “Have you no manners at all?”

Keith just smirked, making a show of chewing loudly before he swallowed and said, “Still, we didn’t have to go somewhere all fancy like this. I would have been fine with just burgers or pizza or something.”

“Well, sure, but I was really in the mood tonight for a place with tablecloths, you know? It’s a big night.”

“They’re just grades.”

Shiro shrugged and set his fork down. “All right, time for me to confess. The reason I decided to go fancy is that we’re actually celebrating two things tonight.” Keith raised a brow, and Shiro went on. “I actually got some pretty big news today. And since Adam’s busy until tomorrow and my parents are in another time zone, you, my dear friend, get to be the first to celebrate it with me.”

“What is it?” Keith asked.

“Now, I will tell you, they’re not officially announcing this until Monday, so don’t go spreading the word to your classmates before then and ruining the surprise.”

“What surprise?”

“So if anyone asks, you don’t know anything about it, okay? You’re gonna be just as excited by the announcement as - ”

“Shiro,” Keith groaned. “Now you’re just doing this on purpose.”

“You caught me.” Shiro smiled. “So. Guess who has been officially selected as the youngest pilot ever to lead a Garrison exploration mission.”

Keith’s eyes slowly widened. “You - you got the Kerberos spot?”

“I got the Kerberos spot.”

“That’s awesome!” Keith breathed. “Holy - you’re going straight to the edge of the solar system! Oh my god, you’re gonna be in textbooks, Shiro! You’re gonna be, like, a legit historical figure. That’s huge.”

“We always knew Earth’s atmosphere couldn’t contain me forever,” Shiro said with a smirk. “So, you’ve managed to get settled into the Garrison pretty well by now? Fitting in with your class? I know you’re doing well grade-wise so…”

“I guess, yeah,” Keith said with a shrug. “Why?”

“Nothing,” Shiro said, waving his fork dismissively. “I’m going to be pretty busy for a while, is all, and then I’ll be gone for the mission after. Just wanna make sure you’re ready for that.”

“Oh.” Keith's smile flickered, the corners of his mouth drooping for half a second before returning to their place. “Yeah. Yeah, ‘course I’m ready. I mean, I - I knew you were gunning for that spot on the mission, so it’s - so, yeah, you know, I knew this was coming. I mean obviously it was coming, you’re the best pilot in - you’re, um, you’re definitely - ”

“Keith?” Shiro raised his brow. “You all right?”

“Yeah. I hadn’t really thought about, uh, what I would be, um - ” He drummed his fingers against the table, then moved to lift his knife and fork and start carving up what remained of his steak. “But that’s - that’s not important. It isn’t. We’re celebrating. And - and - and you got the Kerberos spot, and I got my grades, and that’s good, this is good news, it is, I’m happy! I’m happy for you. I’m very - ”

Gently Shiro reached across the table and laid his hand on Keith’s arm. “You’re starting to carve up your plate, there, bud.”

Keith blinked down at his knife, then, with a slow breath, he dropped the cutlery and pulled back. “Sorry. Sorry, I wasn’t… paying attention. Shit, hang on.” He ground the heels of his hands into his eyes and mumbled, “I’m okay. I’m fine. Got a little… overwhelmed… by the good news. Just need a minute to, uh, to process.”

“Everything all right here?” came a soft voice behind Shiro’s shoulder, and he jumped in his seat, banging his knee on the table and whipping his head around to see their waitress, their cake in her hands and her face apologetic. “Sorry,” she said. “Didn’t mean to startle you.”

“No, no, it’s okay,” Shiro said. “You’re fine. Thanks, it looks delicious.”

“Can I, uh, get you anything else?” the waitress asked, glancing toward Keith who was hastily trying to scrub at his eyes as she set the cake down on the table. “A drink refill or… some tissues, maybe?”

“We’re fine, thank you,” Shiro replied. “Uh, take your time with the check, please.”

The waitress nodded and hurried from the table. Keith, meanwhile, pushed his chair back, his head down and hair falling into his face as he mumbled, “I think I need the restroom…”

“Hey, hang on,” Shiro said, holding out his arm again as Keith stood. “Keith… you know, it’s okay if you’re upset.”

“I’m not upset,” Keith snapped.

“Uh-huh. I’ve told you before, bud. If you’re upset - or any other emotion - ” He added when Keith opened his mouth to protest - “You can tell me. I’m not gonna judge you for it, you’re not gonna be punished. It’s not good to bottle things up. Come on, talk to me.”

“It’s… nothing,” Keith said. He sighed and collapsed back into his chair. “It’s stupid. Sorry, I’m ruining tonight, aren’t I?”

“You’re not ruining anything.”

“Yes I am. You took me out to celebrate and I’m freaking out on you and raining on your parade and - and I should be happy about this. I am happy about this, I’m happy for you, so there’s - there’s nothing even to talk about.”

“Mmm.” Shiro tapped a finger thoughtfully against the edge of the cake plate. “You know, you’re allowed to feel more than one thing. You can be happy for me and still be upset. There’s nothing wrong with that.”

“Sure, but - ”

“Want me to start?”

Keith frowned. “Start what?”

“Sharing.” Keith still looked just as baffled, so Shiro continued. “I’m thrilled about the news, and I’m excited about the upcoming Kerberos trip, and I’m really proud of myself for having made it this far, especially so early in my career.”

“You should be,” Keith said with a fervent nod.

“But I’m kinda freaking out too. It’s a lot of pressure and responsibility, and I’m scared of messing up. There’s a ton of prep work that has to be done before the mission, which is going to be stressful and exhausting. And the mission is going to last for months, so I don’t know how claustrophobic or homesick or lonely I’ll get. I know I’m going to miss you. You, and Adam, and everyone else on Earth.

“I’m happy, yeah, but I’m all those things too. It’s a lot. But, I gotta admit, putting it all out there, out loud, it’s a bit of a relief. It’s on the table instead of on my shoulders, so now I don’t have to think so hard about what I’m dealing with, I can move on to actually dealing with it. And now it’s your turn”

Keith paused before saying, “I feel like you missed your true calling as a psychologist.”

“I’m young, I’ve got time to chase a bunch of callings. No changing the subject.”

Shiro waited patiently as Keith fidgeted in his chair, chewing at his bottom lip and focusing intensely on the dishes in front of him. Finally, though, he spoke up, so softly that Shiro had to strain to hear him: “I guess I’m… not ready… for you to go.”

Slowly Shiro nodded. “That’s understandable, Keith. I - ”

“It’s not, though,” Keith bit out. “It’s not like I haven’t been on my own before, right? And, hell, I’m a couple years off from being an adult, I shouldn’t - I shouldn’t still be - and it’s selfish, right? This is, like, your dream, Shiro, and all I’m thinking about is how I’m gonna - how I’m - ”

“Hey, hey,” Shiro said, keeping his voice low and soothing as he watched Keith bunch up the edge of the tablecloth in his fists. “It’s not selfish. Okay? I don’t want you thinking that for a moment. It’s you feeling your feelings, and there’s nothing selfish about that. If you were selfish, you wouldn’t be nearly so concerned about how your reaction is making me feel, right?”

Keith only shrugged. “And Keith, what’s this about being on your own?” Shiro continued. “Me being gone doesn’t mean you have to be alone.”

“It - it kinda does,” Keith mumbled. “I, um, I - I may have exaggerated, a bit, um, how I’m fitting in with my classmates.”

Shiro narrowed his eyes. “Are those other pilots still giving you a hard time? If they are, we need to go to your CO, file a report.”

Keith shook his head. “No, they aren’t - there haven’t been any other incidents or anything, just - I’m still not really - I’m not part of the group or anything. We have classes together, but that’s all. And you know I can’t get an ‘Adam’ of my own, I’ve - I told you about that, about how I don’t - so I don’t have friends, I don’t, not really. And I definitely don’t have a ‘partner’ or whatever, so that just leaves family, and - well, that’s you. Just you. That’s all I’ve got. And so if you’re gone…”

He let out a sniff and wiped his nose with the tablecloth. There was only so much the Garrison could do to instill table manners into their cadets. “Forget it. Like I said, it’s nothing.”

“That’s not nothing, Keith,” Shiro said. “That’s… that’s fair. That’s fair and valid and I’m glad that you told me.”

“Kinda ruined the whole ‘celebration’ vibe, though.”

“We’ll have plenty of time to celebrate before the mission. I, um - did - were you always worrying about this? The whole time I’ve been applying for the Kerberos spot?”

“I dunno. I wasn’t really thinking about it. Was trying not to, you know? It, um, wasn’t important.”

“When am I ever going to finally convince you that your worries are important?”

“More important than Kerberos?”

“Equally.”

Keith snorted. “Shiro - ”

“You know, in the coming months I’m gonna be spending a lot of time preparing for the mission. Maybe we should come up with a game plan so you can do the same.”

“Shiro, you barely managed to convince the Garrison to let me into the academy, you’re never gonna convince them to let me join the mission.”

“Much as I’d love to have you, that’s not what I meant,” Shiro said with a little smile. “I meant that while I’m getting ready to go to Kerberos, we can get you ready to stay on Earth. We’ll go through the things you’re worried about, the things that you need to prepare for, and we’ll start planning for them.”

“How do you mean?”

“Like, okay, you’re worried about being lonely while I’m away. So let’s plan for that. We can talk to Adam, and Colleen, make sure you’re able to turn to one of them if you need anything at all. And we can even schedule some weekends out, get you some vacation from the Garrison to wind down. If you’re worried about keeping up with schoolwork while I’m around, we can contact your instructors to let them know, maybe see about any extra credit work you can do while I’m gone.”

Keith nodded slowly. “Okay. And, um, if I’m worried about… you know…” The tips of his ears went red as he mumbled, “Missing you?”

Shiro resisted the urge to tease him about the blush of embarrassment and instead broadened his smile. “I’m gonna miss you too, you know. What kind of brother would I be if I didn’t?” Keith bit his lip, and Shiro would bet any amount of money that it was to hold back a smile. “We’ll figure something out. We’ll make sure to get a ton of pictures together before I go, for starters, and I can let you babysit my hoverbike while I’m gone.”

Keith’s mouth dropped open. “You’ll let me be in charge of your hoverbike?”

“Promise not to crash it?”

“I… can’t make that promise.”

“Promise you’ll try not to crash it?”

“That I can do.”

“I’ll take it. So we’ve got a plan in place, and we have plenty of time to come up with more. And if it helps, I swear, I’ll come back from Kerberos as soon as I possibly can. Sound good?”

“Yeah.” Keith nodded. “Sounds good.”

“Do you need a hug too?”

“No,” Keith said, spreading his arms out to accept one anyway. Shiro scooted his chair around the table to embrace him, rubbing Keith’s back as the latter sighed into his shoulder, and he didn’t let go of the hug until he felt Keith finally pull away.

“Now,” Shiro said, scooting back into place. “This cake has just been waiting to be eaten, and we should really help out.” He nodded toward Keith’s dessert fork . “Come on, I’ve seen the memes, I know you love cake.”

Keith let out a breath of a laugh as he lifted his fork and started to cut off a piece from the cake. “If you’d seen all the memes, you’d know I also love pizza.”

“Well, in a few years, when we’re celebrating you getting your first big mission and breaking the youngest-pilot record, we can go out for pizza instead. Deal?”

“Deal.” They both took their first bites of the cake at the same time, and Keith rolled his eyes as Shiro made a show of moaning in contentment at the taste. “By the way,” Keith said as he moved in for his second bite, “I really am happy for you. Cadet’s honor, I am.”

“Thanks, Keith,” Shiro said with a grin. “I’m happy too.”

#vldgen #vld fic #keith #shiro #broganes #my writing #fic: hold on loosely

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natigail · 3 years

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hi!! just wanted to say that you definitely did an amazing job in september!! you accomplished a lot, on top of writing slumps and real-life which is totally understandable, and you definitely deserved to chill and relax after the Beast that was pedia!!

also bigbig congrats on pedia, the way you managed to write so many words and post when you could, was !! super impressive, like i’m always really impressed at how you’re able to write so much in such a quick amount of time, especially when juggling between multiple projects and real life!!

and side note, but that brief description of your ospbb next year already has me like: 👀👀 sjdss, i’m so intrigued!! i’m also really looking forward to future updates for your in-progress fics, but i hope you take all the time you need and not feel pressured or too stressed!! like i can honestly wait however long for an update, cause the wait is always worth it, and you prioritizing yourself is always always more important!! 💙💙

Blue hearts anon!! Hello, you're always so wonderful when you send asks - this one legit made me feel all giddy even though I was grumpy from having to get up early with too few hours of sleep.

Thank you so much for all your encouraging words about my September writing endeavours and PEDIA. I've been surprised every single time I've launched myself into PEDIA and it's quite a wonderful feeling, even though it is also draining.

And yay, I made you intrigued for my ospbb next year! It's a fun idea, one I've toyed with for a little bit. I'm always a sucker for anything magical AU adjecent and DnP being a witch and demon and natural enemies who are flung together against their will creates such an interesting dynamic. I'm also quite having fun with evil!Dan - mostly because I know Phil will manage to melt him pretty darn quickly. It's been a while since I've written anything that's angsty and a little dark, and it's always a little intimidating but also fun.

I just finished up writing a new chapter of my Stardew AU, which should be out soon-ish! It's the first time the fic really earns its hurt/comfort tag and we also have some angst, so it's a interesting one. But oh boy, October chapter is around the corner now and ahh!! (my lovely beta lu knows what's coming and you all should also be excited - now I just need to actually write the chapter to make it match what's planned).

Look at me ramble but yes, please know how much I appreciate this ask, all the words of encouragement and the excitement for my stories. <3

#anon #answered #oldschoolpbb #pedia

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illegiblewords · 3 years

Text

Fic Writer Meme

Swiped this because it looked like fun!

Name

Fandoms

Most popular multichapter

Actual worst part of writing

How you choose your titles

Do you outline

Ideas I probably won’t get around to, but wouldn’t it be nice?

Callouts @ Me

Best writing traits

Spicy Tangential Opinion

Tagging: @nilim, @azwoodbomb, @wouldyouliketoseemymask, @parvus-pica, @peregrineroad, @spiral-seeker, @frostmantle, @autumnslance, @strangefellows, @redbud-tree, @maccaroni-eh, @entropytea, @prettyparadoxes, @ivalane, @kunstpause, @fogfens

Name: Illegible or Illegiblewords lately. I’ve switched it in the past a few times.

Fandoms: I’ve been in Final Fantasy XIV for the past couple of years now. Passively I might be in Pathologic fandom and Dragon Age fandom? Maybe others too on and off. I was in comic fandoms for a long time but honestly that spiraled into a hot mess of epic proportions so I’ve mostly peaced out of there. Still love stories, characters, and buddies from there though.

Most Popular Oneshot: Ironically it’s Ideation for Bladerunner 2049 haha. I did exactly one fic there right after seeing the movie and didn’t go back, but I thought it was very good and I had a specific story I wanted to tell. It’s one of my most popular fics, and given it’s gen too I’m actually kind of happy about that.

Most Popular Multichapter: The Immortal Wound for FFXIV fandom! I had only just started writing for the fandom, and the series leading up to this fic was my first time writing NPC shipping in FFXIV. I was seriously, SERIOUSLY nervous at first! I wrote the first fic, Posturing, as a personal challenge to do an ambiguous protagonist/NPC since I saw other people doing that and wanted to see if I could pull it off. Posted it at around 4 in the morning then deleted within a few minutes out of anxiety lol. A week went by before I read it again, realized I still liked it, and put it back up for good. That being well-received helped encourage me to keep trying, and by The Immortal Wound it was getting solid attention. The experience really meant a lot to me!

Actual Worst Part of Writing: Probably chapter maps within the outlining process for me. It’s needed for how I approach things, but shit is anxiety-inducing and stressful af lol. I basically plan each event out in high detail before actually writing the fic, so when the time comes for me to legit write I’m more or less following a plan I can trust. Making that plan is the tough part.

How Do You Choose Your Titles: Often titles are the last things I figure out before starting the fic itself. I know I like punchy stuff if I can manage. Sometimes it’ll be one word, sometimes it’ll be a quote or song lyric, sometimes it’ll be a saying, sometimes it’ll be a phrase that feels fitting. I go fast and loose usually, and tbh I’ve tried to tell myself not to overthink it too hard. I do try title related works in ways that have some thematic link when I can.

Do You Outline: HahahahahaHAHAHAHAhaha yeah. Straight up my outlines are eldritch terrors for their detail, length, and complexity. I don’t mean that as a brag at all, seriously--I tend to get frozen a bit if I don’t have an outline by and large because it’s hard for me to keep track of what’s in my head and plan accordingly. Just end up with too many moving parts + revision and pacing get wonky otherwise.

Depending on the project I might have sections tied to setting, characters, magic systems, religions, etc. at the top. Fanfic this is less likely but does crop up sometimes.

To give an example of the first bullet of the first chapter of an ongoing fic:

Post-Shinryu, the Warrior of Light lingers in the Royal Menagerie alone at his own insistence to search for the Eye of Nidhogg. In the process he remembers the fight against Zenos and Shinryu. Note he was overcome by an almost feral rage at Zenos’ assumption that he was the target of anything resembling lust. Those attentions (“bite down upon my jugular”) belong to another, but note similarities of two pale-eyed, long-haired blondes. Seeing Shinryu, the Warrior had no idea whether Lahabrea survived within. The fusion was horrifying to see and as he fought he didn’t hold back because besides obvious dangers, he was also ready to mercy kill if needed. Also note Warrior wanted to intervene against Thordan for Lahabrea but wasn’t fast enough, questions a little privately how far he’d have gone against him. It might not have mattered even if he’d managed since he knows Lahabrea was going crazy and unable to listen. Locating and examining the Eye, he recognizes how drained it is. Certainly not enough to threaten him when dealing with post-battle exhaustion. So he reaches inside with his own aether, relentless in pushing aside every foreign element—Nidhogg, Thordan, the corrupted Rhalgr, the places Zenos caged them all under his own will. Zodiark’s tempering is what helps him ultimately find Lahabrea, who is barely alive. Zodiark’s tempering has preserved what it could but has a much more tenuous grip in consequence. When the Warrior finds him Lahabrea isn’t even aware, functionally unconscious. The tempering flares against him defensively and this time the Warrior focuses on it. This is all that has allowed Lahabrea to stay alive. He could force himself closer but there is no vessel. Besides, the process of separating a fragile soul so deficient in aether is too great a risk. So he keeps the Eye.

It’s not the only bullet of comparable size for that chapter. The overall piece has at least 40 total chapters, but probably more.

Ideas I Probably Won’t Get Around To, But Wouldn’t It Be Nice: Tbh probably some of the earlier WIPs I have that aren’t finished already. Not just FFXIV (Dead Language, With Good Intentions) but other fandoms. I could end up circling back in the future one day but who knows.

Callouts @ Me: “NO MORE WIPS HOLY SHIT YOU HAVE OVER 20″, “RELEARN HOW TO DO DRABBLES”, “GET UR PRESENTS DONE”, “REVIEW OTHERS MORE THE STAGE FRIGHT IS RIDICULOUS”.

Best Writing Traits: I try to write any character as the hero of their own story/with the capacity to be someone’s favorite. I do my research and prioritize telling a good story first and foremost. I can change my writing style according to need and am good at capturing the cadence and word choices of different characters.

Spicy Tangential Opinion: If no transaction has been made (esp. monetary), no one owes you shit online. Not reviews, not hits, not praise, not agreement, not content of any sort. It sucks to feel like you’re creating to a void. It sucks to be passionately in love with a rarepair when other ships are drowning in art and stories.

People still don’t owe you.

If you don’t like someone else’s content, create something exploring what you do like... or even why you don’t like that content. Tell a story. Create art. Make photosets and playlists and analyses. If it is not a literal crime (as opposed to portraying fictional crime), don’t discourage other creators no matter how awful you might find their stuff. Lend your own voice to an alternative as convincingly as you can. And if that doesn’t persuade others, you need to keep honing your own skills.

If you want more of something to exist, spread inspiration. Again this can be in storytelling, art, photosets, playlists, analysis, you name it. Give form to your passion. And if others disagree or don’t respond, keep working at it. This is a skill too, and it takes practice.

I’ve found it shows when work is created out of a sense of guilt, fear, or obligation. The quality is much lower and no one latches on to keep building in-turn. And IMO it is essential to build up rather than tearing down.

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bluedemon1995 · 3 years

Text

I can’t watch you with someone else. It’s tearing me apart. Happy Valentines Day my dear friends!! (Yeah I’m late but whatever)

What’s going on on? I hope you all are good!

Pidge has been quiet for a few weeks, months if she is being completely honest. Analyzing her options carefully and trying to figure out what she should do. She wants to be happy for him. In fact, she is. He deserves to be happy after all. He deserves to be with someone who eases his load and appreciates him. And while she didn’t realize what she really felt for him before she does now. Fuck. There’s no putting that element back into the table now.

Typical. Sometimes the timing in life just sucked. Maybe some distance… maybe she just needs some space to get a little perspective. So with Keith and the Blades scheduled to be back home for at least a few months for negotiations and humanitarian talks Pidge had decided she needed to leave before Keith even got on the planet.

After careful consideration of her options, Pidge ultimately decided to sign up with the MFE pilots for their upcoming space mission. They felt like they needed some in depth experience in space and with the upgrades her and Matt finished on their crafts, it was time to test them out. Pidge secretly talked to a few people and requested to be reassigned as their point person to make adjustments… on their ships… in space.

Pidge knew she had to talk to her parents about her decision but in typical fashion she put it off to the last minute. But with Keith’s eminent arrival, time was up. She sat them both down to let them know why she needed some space. While her mom was not happy, she understood thank goodness. Unfortunately, this time it was her dad who was more…unhappy. Her mom gave her a hug and whispered, “I can handle dad. Just, please be careful and come back safe. Love you.”

With tears in her eyes, Pidge promised.

A few short weeks later, Pidge knows she isn’t going to be able to run away from these feelings but she also knows, she can get through them. She just has to be focused and busy. Which she embraced. So late nights, projects and lack of eating led her to her current problem.

She was currently hanging over James’ shoulder while he stalked through the halls of the ship. She should’ve known he’d enforce the ‘rules’ he placed on her. He was a little more like Shiro than she felt comfortable with. Making her eat, sleep and just be with the team was not what she imagined he’d be like on a mission. Get the job done. So she ignored his requests, then orders. But here they were. He finally gets to her room and throws her down on the bed.

“Stay. Sleep.”

“Um, gee, James I didn’t know I was your pet? What the fuck?” She sits up frowning, pushing her hair back out of her angry eyes.

Pointing at her, he returns, “You’re here until you sleep, at least ten hours! You’re lucky I don’t tie you up! That’s an order.”

“Gee James, kinda kinky, don’tcha think? I didn’t know you ran that way.” She bats his finger away.

“Argh!!! Please tell me you are worse now than before! How did you manage to save the flipping universe?!? You don’t listen, you don’t sleep and I swear I don’t know if you even eat! Take care of your damn self! I’m definitely not trying to be your parent but hell if you don’t need someone looking after you! Look, I don’t care if you have some secret issues that you won’t share with your team leader - “

Suddenly Pidge has lunged for James, hitting him square in the gut followed by a leg sweep. “SHUT UP!! I don’t need another mom or dad, I have two already!” Panting and red faced she stares down at him.

“You wanna fight? Let’s go then! Maybe you will wear yourself out and get some damn sleep!”

He lunges upward and Pidge feints left only to move right, jumping onto the bed and slamming back into him. He falls but quickly grabs Pidge so suddenly she is on top of him, twisting to make sure he falls on the bed.

They end up wresting, each one trying to get the upper hand. Once again James is surprised at her strength and quickness, especially when he knows she must be exhausted. But, James won’t let up. So when Pidge punches him again he grabs her wrists in his hands and holds her down using his weight as leverage. No matter what she doesn’t outweigh him and she’s using too much energy. Finally, after she’s exhausted her little reserves of energy she has she stops moving. Then he hears her sobs.

James eyes widen, instantly letting go of her wrists quietly murmuring, “No, no, no, no crying! For God’s sake are they right? You, um shit. Whoever HE is, he isn’t worth it.” More softly, he adds emphatically, “He isn’t worth your tears.”

With that he pulls her close and lets her cry on his chest. After some time, he looks down and sees she’s basically cried herself to sleep. In his arms. For another guy. Shit. He moves her from his arms to the bed, making sure to take her shoes off and cover her. He starts to leave but when she whimpers he stops. Feeling more tired than ever he debates with himself. Frozen he doesn’t know what to do.

He finally decides to leave when he again hears her whimpering. He groans, pushing off his shoes and laying down in bed beside her-over the covers. He hesitates but when he hears a groan he ultimately pulls her close and holds her, rubbing her back. Laying next to her small form, he can’t help but wonder, who is she hiding from? What idiot wouldn’t thank the stars that this little spitfire wanted him? Sighing, he figured it really wasn’t his business and he just let sleep claim him.

Meanwhile, Keith has finally cornered Matt and Shiro. “Where’s Pidge? And don’t give me that crap - top secret mission stuff either.” It’s been two weeks. And no sign of her. And no one is talking. It stopped being annoying a week ago. Now he’s torn between being mad and nervous. She’s not answering his calls and she KNEW he’d be here on Earth. Why would she leave?

Matt avoids eye contact and mutters, “Why do you care? Aren’t you busy with your team?”

Keith frowns, breathing out of his nose, trying like hell to hold onto his patience. “What. Is. Going. On?”

Matt pushes past Keith muttering, “I can’t tell you a goddamn thing. I promised.” Then yanked the door open and slammed it shut.

Keith looked to Shiro. His heart was racing, and he felt jittery with a bad feeling in his stomach. “Shiro. Please, tell me Shiro. Please. Is she mad at me? Did she leave BECAUSE of me? What the hell??? What’s going on?”

Shiro sighs, “Keith, I can’t give away Pidge’s reasoning. All I can say is she is helping the MFE pilots with their training. In space. It’s a legit mission. You know she worked really hard to”

Keith freezes, “The MFE pilots? Griffin’s team?”

“Um, yeah well he’s there. Why does that matter? Everyone is there and ”

Keith frowns, “Why didn’t Matt go then? This isn’t right. I gotta go, I’ll talk to you later Shiro.”

As he walks away, his thoughts are focused on a past briefing about drills being run, by the MFE pilots. He can get out there with Cosmo. Would that be weird? Frowning he bumps into Kolivan and his mom. Krolia grabs Keith’s arm and pulls him into an empty room.

Kolivan begins, “Keith, the Green Paladin is on a mission. With another team. She is not slated to return until well after our trip is finished. This appears like a strategic move.”

Krolia nods, “Yes, Colleen offered congratulations on your engagement. She said they had been told that you were marrying a fellow Blade. When I discounted this she seemed concerned. I was able to piece a timeline that indicates Pidge took this mission last minute. Why would they think you were mated?”

Keith frowned, “What?Who the heck would say that? Maybe someone on controls sent a wrong message? Shit. They are still really bad at English. But that still doesn’t explain why would she leave?”

Krolia and Kolivan exchanged a long look. Keith growled, “If you know something spit it out. I don’t have time for this. I need to corner Pidge and figure out what’s going on. This isn’t like her.”

Kolivan slowly stared at Keith, “What would you do if you got word that your little green paladin was marrying some other male?”

Keith’s eyes flashed, “What? Who?”

Krolia took his fist carefully in her hand. “Exactly, you’d fight. But I do not think your mate’s first instinct is to fight. Especially in love. She’s young and inexperienced. And if she thinks this is what you want.”

Kolivan returns, “I’m actually surprised myself, I did not picture her running.”

Krolia frowns, “It is a strategic retreat. NOT running.”

Keith froze. After a few doobashes he looks up, “Do you think she ran? Because…”

Krolia shook her head. “Keith, we do not know. This is something you need to ask her. In person. Soon. Where is Cosmo?”

Back on the ship, things have returned to normal. Pidge is working hard and staying focused but has deigned to eat and sleep. When the pilots invited her to the bar for drinks and dinner to celebrate a successful one month in space, she declines.

Back in her room, she was sitting on the bed, wondering what her next steps could be. Should she stay in space? Take another mission? Get back into active duty?? Get some perspective? Travel?

She saw from her phone that Lance was calling but she declined the call and crawled in bed. She still wasn’t ready to talk to anyone about this. Not even a friend. Maybe a movie night was in order. As she was scrolling through her laptop, she decided she needed a comedy. Maybe a series? Then she heard a knock.

Frowning she ignored it. But the knocking didn’t stop, who ever it was they were persistent. Finally getting up, she whips door opened to find James, holding a two bottles of scotch?!?

“Hey.”

“Can I come in?”

“Um sure.”

A few hours later, both are laying in her bed, watching the Office reruns and swapping swigs from the same bottle, which is almost empty at this point. Pidge is giggling and keeps saying lines from future episodes, which James has no clue of. Which annoyed him because it wasn’t fair but it just made her laugh more. Then she kept saying, “That’s what she said!”

After James said something, which was clearly irritating him. But for her, it just made it more fun for Pidge. After another season, Griffin was really getting comfy, taking off his shoes and jacket. Pidge teased him, “You know you could take off your uniform shirt and just stay in your t-shirt? Be a rebel.”

James grinned, “That’s what she said!”

Pidge laughed, “Doofus, I literally DID just say that, that’s not how it works!”

As they calmed down and starting watching another season of Jim dance around Pam. James quietly asked, “So, you don’t have to tell me, but who is the guy? … Lance?”

Pidge looks up, “What?!? No! God, there’s too much gossiping on this ship.”

James nods, “Yeah, I agree… but it’s true, right?”

Pidge quietly replies, “Look it doesn’t matter in the end. Lance, Shiro, whoever, the bottom line is he’s with someone and I want him to be happy. So I’ll step back and when I can get my shit together, I’ll be able to be around him again. I just can’t watch him with someone else.”

James stares at her silent for a minute, then turns off the light and removes his uniform shirt, pushing her gently, he says, “Move over.”

Pidge complies and once James gets situated, she snuggles into his side. He continues, “So, definitely not Lance. If, it’s not him, it’s well, it must be Keith. I saw how you two interacted, always eating together on the Atlas, his eyes watching you when you weren’t looking and just being comfortable in each other’s space. So I don’t like him but I’m sorry. For you, because he must be stupid to…” his voice trails when he looks down at her. Her eyes are shiny and he mutters, “Please don’t cry. It, well, it just fucking breaks my heart.”

Pidge tries to laugh, “Look, you and Keith are more alike than not. He’s not perfect but he’s a great guy and well, he should be happy. So. Don’t worry about me. I’ll be fine. Now watch this because Pam and Jim will finally get their shot. It, it’s super sweet.” Her voice trails off at the end.

James nods, “Yeah okay. But honestly, this is it, I swear, but, if he doesn’t see how amazing you are. Well, that’s on him. Because, any guy would jump at being yours. Now, I still don’t get how this is romantic. He liked her forever, and she liked him but they won’t take their shot?”

Pidge smiles, “It’s only romantic because the audience wants them together and know how great they’d be. If they don’t get together it would have just been sad but since they do…it’s amazing.”

Pidge awakens to a crack?!?, yelling and the covers suddenly being ripped off of her. Blinking in the surprise, she rubs her eyes to see Keith and Cosmo, in the room?!?

“Keith!! What the hell???” Standing on the bed, she feels Cosmo jump over and rub against her legs. Instinctively holding on to him, she sees Keith punch James and James return the favor. The room is too small and they are bumping and knocking around her already crowded room.

Keith roars, “Why are you in here?!?”

James grins, “C’mon I’m sure you have an idea. Whatever you’re thinking, that’s it.”

Keith’s vision suddenly turns hazy and he launches himself forward. Only to see Pidge jump between them. Instinctively he changes course so he doesn’t hurt her his fist slams into the wall. Breathing heavy, he stares at Pidge, who is hanging on his arm, lowly asking her, “Tell me what’s going on?”

Pidge sighs and turns to James. “James, I think I need some time to talk to Keith. Thanks for, um,” Pidge isn’t quite sure how to finish that sentence so she just waves a hand, “everything.”

James frowns, “Are you sure?”

“Mmmhmmmm.”

As James very slowly gets his stuff to leave, Keith growls noticing he has to pick up his shirt and coat from the floor. Then he takes note that there’s an empty bottle(s) of scotch and her laptop is on the bed. Were they Netflixing and chilling. Did she? Did he? Not Griffin. Please. He closes his eyes to try and focus. This situation somehow just got worse. Worse than he already thought. When he hears the door finally closing he opens his eyes focusing totally on Pidge. He looks at her and realizes, thankfully, she’s in a t-shirt and pajama pants.Okay that’s a good sign. Right? He doesn’t think one would get dressed after having sex so that’s a plus. And Griffin had pants on too come to think of it. He stalks towards her and stops right in front of her. She’s got her arms crossed and is looking at the floor. “Pidge.”

She doesn’t look up. He frowns. He needs. Fuck too much at this point. “One-I’m not engaged or getting married or whatever you thought.”

Pidge’s eyes snap up. “What?!?”

“My mom said your mom thought I was engaged. I am not. Two-if you had questions why the hell would you not call me and ask?!? Instead what-you left? When you knew I was coming back. Three-you, um, didn’t answer my call…calls. What did I do? Why are you mad at me? I fucking left you messages. A lot.” At this point his hands are gripping her upper arms and he has pulled her close. Staring at her, trying to figure out what is eve going on.

Blank. Pidge’s mind is in flux, all she can think is…I can’t think. Shit. “Um, sorry. I um, am helping the, uh-“

“No, that doesn’t explain the silence. You didn’t pick up. Worse, you didn’t call me back. Hell, you left me unreadable, why?”

“Fuck, I’m sorry!!!”

“You’re forgiven, if you tell me WHY?” He pulls her close, and now she’s on her tip toes.

Pidge sighs, “Fuck. Keith, I just can’t watch you with someone else. It would tear me apart, seeing you are with someone else. But I, I want you to be happy and, I, I”

“What?” Keith closes the space, taking the last step closer, both of there chests are now brushing each other and Pidge can feel Keith’s body heat. She blinks. She’s gotta think. How can she think when he’s so close and staring at her?

But then Keith’s hand reacher for her chin, and his thumb brushes her lower lip.

Her mind short circuits and she blurts out, “I have feelings for you. And I “

Keith’s eyes flash, and suddenly his arms are around her. His mouth is on hers before she can formulate any thought and after his mouth was on hers, thought was freaking impossible. Keith was holding her, kissing her and she was responding, moaning and her knees literally buckled.

After some time, Keith has maneuvered her to the bed and is holding her close. His hand is lightly tracing patterns on her lower back, as they snuggle into each other. Keith whispers, “So, moment of truth- my whole reason for coming back to Earth, was to put myself in a strategic position so I could date you. I finally figured it out, that what I felt for you was not simple friendship. It was so much more, so much. I needed to talk to you, needed to ask your opinion and bounce ideas off you. And that was new for me, so I tried to ignore what it could mean. But, I couldn’t not talk to you. Then you went radio silent. And it freaked me out. Really. I can’t, just, don’t EVER do that again.” He gripped her face in his hand, voice dropped, “please.”

“What?”

“Katie, I… can you feel what I am writing on your back?”

“I…L..O..V..E..U. Keith?!? Really?”

“Yeah, I do. Um how do you feel?”

“I love you too.”

“Babe.”

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atsumusc0ck · 4 years

Text

Midnight pleasures

Kuroo x reader x Akaashi

College AU

Aged up

Content warning: unhealthy relationships?

(Sorry my laptop broke i dont know how to do the read more thing on mobile?? I dont know if you even can on mobile???)

Chapter 4 Mr Cool Calm and Collected

Prev//masterlist

September

Honestly, a rather uneventful month. But then again, you’ve found yourself unable to get Keiji off your mind. All your crushes in the past have felt like a bang, a sudden moment where you realized your feelings had changed. It wasn’t all too different with your feelings for Akaashi, maybe not different from other crushes at all. You suppose maybe the only difference was him. He treated you like a precious item. As if you were delicate. He had this ever perceptiveness to him it seemd. He could tell how you felt in an instant, if anything was off about you he would stop everything to make sure you were okay. He never let you leave his side until you were smiling and gleeful again.

This month you’ve felt your heart tugged in every direction possible. Your mind switching back and fourth from Kuroo and Akaashi. The difference was it seemed Akaashi actually liked you? Well.. maybe. You sigh to yourself as you leave your evening class to head home.

Bring bring bring

Keiji <3

Incoming call

Smiling to yourself you quickly answer your phone

“Hey Y/N”

“Hey Keiji? Why the sudden call? Not that I’m complaining” you smile to yourself like a fool at the sound of his voice

“Since we just turned in the second major due date for our project I was wondering if you uh” a pause, for the first time you’ve heard him sound uneasy. A rare thing from him calm and collected exterior. “Would you like to get dinner to celebrate? We both really worked hard together on this and with midterms starting in two weeks we’ll probably be yaknow busy” he begins to ramble. ABsolutely adorable.

“Of course Keiji, that’d be great.”

“Great” a tone of relief comes through the line “I’ll pick you up in an hour”

With newfound energy you scurry home and get dressed. Picking an outfit took longer than you’d like to admit. Not wanting too look too dressedup, but wanting to impress him at the same time. You finish getting ready and a mere moment later you here a courteous knock on the door.

Opening it to see Pretty Boy Akaashi, the moment your eyes meet he becomes flustered. Is that a blush on Mr. Cool Calm adn Collected?

“Hey, Keiji” you say with a coy smile, looks like you’ve managed to impress

“Hey Y/N, you look great” he smiles gently regaining his cool.

“Shall we?” you ask

`````

Akaashi took you to a small but nice italian-style restaurant near campus. The entire time the conversation never stopped. It felt like sparks were flying, about to ignite the air the whole time. You couldn’t help but wonder if he felt the same way? You couldn’t help but wish this was a date the entire time.

After the meal you two split the home and Akaashi took you home. He insisted on walking you to your door, you had no plans to complain about this.

“Thanks for taking me out Keiji, I had a great time” you smile up at him in front of your door.

“Anyitme beautiful-” Akaashi’s face turned scarlet the moment he realized what he said, he did his best to play it off with his cool and calm smile however. Becoming flustered yourself you give a soft chuckle “goodnight Akaashi” and your body acting on it’s own you went to give a kiss goodbye but realized at the last moment and quickly turned it to a peck on the cheek. Now scarlet adorning both of your cheeks. You quickly scurry inside before Akaashi can react.

As if on cue when the door closes behind you your phone lights up with a message from Kuroo

“Baby girl lets have some fun tonight before midtemrs start”

And for the first time, you don’t respond to Kuroo. Heading straight to your room you bury your face in your pillow with embarrassment, You almost kissed Akaahi Keiji! Regaining some composure you finally find the ability to fall asleep.

For once you actually looked forward to midterms to help you avoid both Kuroo and Akaashi.

—————

A/N: google docs isnt working on my phone correctly rn it didn’t even let me spell check I’m so sorry this is legit not it chief but I’m posting it anyways ig. Aaaah sorry.

#Akaashi #kuroo #haikyuu #i don’t even want to tag this #this aint it chief #sorry #KENFJSKRNWKCOS #i’ll try and borrow my girlfriends laptop #for future updates #fml sorry #kuroo x reader #akaashi x reader

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darkthoughtss · 4 years

Text

Don’t Get Too Close

Chae Hyungwon | Chapter Two

pairing: Hyungwon x Reader

genre: angst, smut

warnings: swearing

word count: 1888

A/N: I’m aiming for a maximum of six chapters because I don’t want it to get too long. I also promise the chapters will be more interesting along the way. I just don’t want it to feel too rushed in the beginning, therefore, the first chapters may feel a bit boring. But I hope you’ll like it! Enjoy :)

Previous chapters: 1

21/3/2020 - 1:39 pm

You took the chance to glance at him for a second while he read the script. When your gaze landed on his face you found yourself mesmerized. You couldn’t take your eyes off him. From his long dark locks of hair that you longed to run your fingers through to his kissable lips. You noticed his sharp eyebrows frown a little while reading the lines. When his gaze met yours your cheeks slowly flushed red. Shit. You had been staring at him for more than a second. He grinned.

“What is it?” He said with a lifted eyebrow.

“Nothing,” you let out a forced cough, “I’m ready,” you said with your head lowered to hide your blush.

He cleared his throat and began.

“Wait a second... Have I not seen you before?” He read.

You remembered the line from the third scene in the short series you were shooting. It was just one of the many projects the chief had got you started on since your comeback.

“.. I, uh, I think you got the wrong person,” you answered, playing your character, Jang Dan-Bi.

“Hm, is that so? Do you mind, if I see your wrist for a moment?” He asked taking a quick glance at you before he grabbed your wrist, which took you by surprise. You could feel your heart start to race.

“Hmm.. It looks like the exact same bracelet I gave one of my friends,” he continued.

“Ah, is that right? I got mine from a store in Busan,” you replied with a forced smile.

“But the thing is... The logo on this bracelet belongs to my family, and I got this bracelet custom made for my friend. Unless Dan-Bi decided to sell it, of course,” he said teasingly.

In this scene your character had been caught by her old friend, Yi Do, that she had a huge crush on but tried to avoid after he had told her he didn’t share the same feelings for her as she did. Your character, Dan-Bi, succeeded in avoiding him for months, and in this scene she’s supposed to wear sunglasses and a cap. The line Hyungwon just read is the one where Dan-Bi realizes she’s been caught.

It took a moment before you could remember the next line.

“Okay, you caught me and so what? What do you want from me?” You said, pulling your hand back.

“Dan-Bi, don’t be like that. Tell me what’s wrong and I’ll make it up to you. I’ve been trying to get ahold of you for so long,” Hyungwon read.

You closed your eyes as you tried to remember your next line. This was going to be embarrassing. You regretted asking Hyungwon for help in the first place. This could only get worse. What were you even thinking? He would think you were an amateur that didn’t take your job seriously.

You opened your eyes and looked at him. He locked eyes with yours and could tell you were struggling. “I never...” He mouthed to you and you immediately remembered your next line.

“I never asked you to contact me. Don’t act like you don’t know what’s going on,” you said with an awkward smile.

“Well, if you don’t want to keep in touch with me, then why are you still wearing the bracelet I gave you?” He asked.

You glanced at your wrist and pulled an imaginary bracelet off your wrist and threw it to the floor.

“There. Now leave me alone,” you said coldly, getting into character.

“Dan-Bi,” he said.

“What is it? What do you want from me?” You said, trying to act out a painful expression as you remembered everything Dan-Bi had been through after getting rejected.

“This.” Hyungwon said firmly as he dropped the manuscript from his hand.

As soon as the last line left his lips your heart almost stopped. Suddenly, you recalled what came next in this scene, but he still caught you off guard when he grabbed you by your waist and pulled you close. Your eyes widened and you were surprised he decided to act out the movements in the script too. Your heartbeat slowed down and you could hear it pumping loudly in your chest as you placed your hands on his chest.

You gulped as you realized your lips were a few millimeters away from his. He looked into your eyes with dreamy brown eyes, and you could feel your cheeks heat up. Before you could react someone whistled loudly. He let you go the minute the both of you heard the whistle and your legs almost gave out from the shock. He grabbed your hand so you didn’t fall.

“That was exceptionel!” Minhyuk said while clapping.

The both of you turned your heads towards him and you quickly let go of Hyungwon’s hand.

“Since when did you apply to be an actor, Hyungwon?” He asked as he walked closer.

“Shut up Minhyuk,” Hyungwon said and laughed.

“No, I genuinely think that was good. Don’t you think, Y/N?” He said as he placed his elbow on Hyungwon’s shoulder and looked at you.

“Ah yes, you were... incredible,” you whispered before you could stop yourself.

You quickly looked down at your feet embarrassed. You heard Minhyuk chuckle.

“Aww, look who’s turning red!” He exclaimed.

Hyungwon picked up the manuscript from the floor and handed it to you. You slowly looked up and accepted it. You blinked a couple of times when you noticed his cheeks were faint pink. Was Minhyuk’s remark referring to him?

“I think Minhyuk and I have to go before our manager gets angry. Good luck with the shooting, Y/N! I hope I could help,” Hyungwon said.

Minhyuk was about to make a comment but Hyungwon stopped him by covering Minhyuk’s mouth with his hand. “See you later!” He said and pulled Minhyuk down under his arm and forced him to walk with him.

“You’re getting stronger these days, huh?” You heard Minhyuk struggle to say.

You laughed as Minhyuk pulled his head up from under Hyungwon’s arm, “Good luck, Y/N!” He said.

21/3/2020 - 3:24 pm

What even was that? Did he have feelings for you too? Why would he do that if he wasn’t interested? All the questions were running through your mind in the middle of the shooting.

“Damn it! Dan-Bi! Focus before I fire your ass on the spot! Why can’t you do as I tell you?” The director scolded at you.

You quickly apologized. Maybe you were getting too obsessed. You felt like he was the only thing you wanted to think about these days. You kept postponing your real problems.

“Take 3! ACTION!” The director said.

Your coworker, who played Yi Do, started where you left.

“Hm, is that so? Do you mind, if I see your wrist for a moment?” He said as he reached for your wrist politely.

Your heart skipped a beat as you recalled Hyungwon doing the same.

“Hmm.. It looks like the exact same bracelet I gave one of my friends,” he continued.

“Perfect! Perfect! Keep going!” The director whispered excitedly.

“Ah, is that right? I got mine from a store in Busan,” you responded. Your heart almost got caught in your throat when you thought about Hyungwon acting out the scene with you.

21/3/2020 - 4:01 pm

“You did that scene perfectly, Y/N! It felt real and legit! Good job, keep it up!” The director said after you finished the scene.

You had to thank Hyungwon. If it wasn’t for him you would’ve never got through today’s shooting. You had to say thanks right? You wouldn’t have done so well without him. Your manager went up to you with a new set of clothing.

“Here, let’s get you dressed for the next schedule,” she said.

“Unnie, can I ask you a question?” You asked, receiving the clothes.

“Yes, go on, what is it?” She asked, looking through your schedule.

“Uh.. I was wondering when my next schedule with Monsta X will be?” You asked.

“In three hours actually. Right after the next one,” she replied.

“Ah, really? That’s perfect. Thanks!” You said with a smile.

21/3/2020 - 6:58 pm

You hesitantly stood by their door, almost deciding to turn back to where you came from. Maybe it was a better idea to just let it pass. Maybe you should wait for the right moment to thank him. This would feel unnatural, right? You could hear chatter and laughter inside the dressing room and suddenly felt nervous.

You finally decided to turn on your heels and started walking back. As you started walking you heard the door open and the voices getting louder. Your heart skipped a beat when someone called out your name. You slowly turned around to see Hyunwoo.

“What are you doing here?” He asked.

“I just... What a coincidence! Your dressing room is placed here? Who would have thought!” You laughed awkwardly.

He took a look at your surroundings. “Our dressing room is literally the only room in this corridor,“ he said with a smile.

You scratched your neck. How does he always manage to expose your ass?

“By the way, I thought you decided to talk to Hyungwon? He told me you never said hi,” he said.

Your eyes widened. Shit.

“I must’ve forgotten,” you said.

“Yeah,” he laughed, “I probably made it pretty awkward.”

“What?” You asked.

“Well, I asked him about it and he got confused, so I explained the whole situation and he decided to find you. Didn’t he talk to you?” Hyunwoo said.

“Actually..” You trailed off.

The door to the dressing room opened again. Hyungwon walked out.

“Y/N?” He asked, confused when he saw you.

You glanced at Hyunwoo. “We’ll talk later,” he mouthed and winked at you before he went inside the dressing room again. You wanted to exclaim, “Don’t go!” but it was too late.

“Ah yes, I just came by because I wanted to thank you for helping me out earlier,” you said, starting to ramble a bit to kill the silence.

He laughed and walked towards you, “Listen, I didn’t do much. If it went well, then you should be proud of yourself,” he said. “I’m sorry, if I took you by surprise back there. I just followed the script and probably got carried away,” he laughed.

“Ah no, it’s okay, I used to be sensitive to touch but not anymore,” you said.

“Me too,” he said with a warm smile.

It took a second before you decided to embrace him. He almost fell backwards from the hug. You could hear his heartbeat and for a second everything felt right. You quickly let go of him again and smiled shyly.

“Then a hug, hopefully, wouldn’t do that much harm... Thank you. I just wanted to tell you that,” you said.

He looked at you surprised and chuckled.

“Of course,” he said and stroked your hair.

You smiled, “Well, I guess I’ll see you tomorrow,” you said and started walking backwards and waved.

“Wait!” He said, stopping you.

“Are you going to work late today?” He asked.

“Yes.. I think so,” you responded.

“Great. I mean, do you, uh, maybe want to go grab a drink afterwards? If you want,” he asked.

“Yes! That would be nice,” you said and couldn’t help but smile widely.

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musicanddancingthroughlife · 4 years

Text

Protect the Spiderling, Pt 2

I think I’ve uploaded this one before, but I have a part 3 and couldn’t find part 2 to link it, so here it is again. One of my few Marvel fics - please tell me how I did (nicely, guys, I’m delicate) because I would love to try more fics for this fandom! Anyway, here’s the first part.

My husband legit argued with me when I said we only have 5 weeks left to the semester, y’all XD Like, dude, I’m not just making this crap up to make myself feel better. But turns out we were both right; it’s just that all of his teachers hate him, and only two of mine do, cause most of my classes end in 5 weeks, while all of his and a couple of mine end the week after lol. So, we’re getting close to the end, and that means I’m starting to really crack down on my homework (not that I was slacking before). Anyway, what this means is most of my journaling - which I was previously using to write fanfics and original stuff - is now focused on revising stories to use for my portfolio, and the rest of my free time is going towards those semester projects and term papers :P

---------------------------------------

“Hey, kid, what’s up with you? You know how I feel about moping in the lab. There’s no place for that teenage angst of yours in here.” Tony was worried when instead of laughing it off like he normally would have, Peter instead jumped, the web shooter he’d been working on falling to the floor with a clatter.

“I’m so sorry, Mr. Stark! I didn’t mean to, I swear!” Tony stared at him, wide-eyed as his kid kept up a steady stream of apologies and assurances that he’ll “be better”. Finally, the painful words stopped, but was instead replaced with those beautiful bambi eyes of Peter’s welling up with tears as the kid stood there and stared at him with fear. Tony felt his heart stop.

“Kid—” he started.

“Hey Tony! You don’t happen to know where the kid went, do you?” Bucky called from just outside the lab. Peter squeaked and bolted for the other side of the lab, away from the two super soldiers who entered only seconds after. Steve’s eyes brightened. “Oh hey, Pete! I thought you said you were going to go to bed?”

“What?” Tony turned to stare at Peter. “Kid, it’s only 9! Are you feeling okay?” Peter just stared at the three of them, so Tony moved so he could still keep an eye on him, even as he spoke to his boyfriends. “I’ve been busy with meetings all day so I hadn’t had the chance to see him today, and I know he has a big assignment due tomorrow that he was working on, and with his finals coming up, I knew I wouldn’t get to see much of him. Wanted to get some time in with him before he got too busy.”

Peter let out a sniffle behind them, quiet whimpers leaving as he tried hurriedly to wipe his tears off his face. “Peter, what’s…” Tony let his words drift off, unsure of how to even ask what was happening right there. Bucky stepped in.

“Peter, was that assignment Tony is talking about one of those that the others ruined?” Tony’s head whipped towards Bucky, a look of confusion and fury in place, but Steve shushed him before he could say anything.

“It was my fault, though, I swear I didn’t mean to be in everyone’s way! I just, just,” he burst into a fresh wave of tears.

“Pete, you were on the ceiling. None of us were using the fucking ceiling.”

“How often do they bully you like that, sweetheart?” Peter sniffed again, refusing to answer Steve’s question.

The three men looked at each other uncertainly. Tony moved to offer Peter a hug, but he moved away. “They don’t bully me. I was in the way. It’s fine.” Bucky growled, shoving the papers in his hands to Steve before lurching forward and grabbing Peter’s arm so he would stop shifting away from them. Peter yelped but after he was caught, he seemed to give up on getting away from them and was compliant as they moved him over to the couch Tony had in the workshop. There wasn’t much room for the four of them, but Bucky was nothing if not a problem solver, so he mentally shrugged and tugged Peter onto his lap. Peter initially balked but even with his spider strength, he wasn’t much of a match for him. He was too busy crying and feeling guilty, apparently.

“Listen to me, kid. Even if you had been in the way—”

“Which you weren’t.” Steve inserted smoothly.

“There are nicer ways to let you know than to shoot you down.” Tony made an enraged sound in the back of his throat at this, and Steve was smart enough to grab him, forcefully pulling him into his lap, too, super soldiers carefully but firmly holding back their geniuses. “They could’ve said something, they could’ve asked you nicely if you could move, but the fact of the matter is, there’s no reason for you to. They weren’t using the space, you were there before we got there, and you weren’t hurting any of us. You wanted to study at the table, Bruce was there. So you found a solution that wouldn’t affect anyone but still allowed you to be around us like you wanted.” Peter’s tears had somewhat died down now, but Bucky wasn’t finished. “Peter, you. Did. Good.”

It took a minute, but eventually, Peter offered a shaky smile. It seemed that was all Tony needed before his thoughts returned to his own personal rampage. “Okay what the hell! Which one of those morons tried to shoot down my kid!”

Peter tried to placate, leaning towards Tony as well as he could when Bucky was still restraining him and refused to let him move far. “It wasn’t that bad, Bucky is exaggerating. Don’t worry about it, Mr. Stark.”

“Nice try, Pete,” Steve adjusted his hold on his squirming lapful. “Bucky was not exaggerating. Clint literally shot arrows at your stuff to force you down. That’s a thing he actually did, buddy.”

“Aw come on, you weren’t even there!” Peter whined, squirming in earnest now to escape Bucky’s grasp.

“Doesn’t matter, Bucky doesn’t exaggerate. Anyway, look what we did for you!” The papers they had were retrieved from the floor next to the couch, and waved in Peter’s face. “That assignment you have due tomorrow was on WWII, right? That happened to be the one that was destroyed the most, so Stevie and I helped put together some stuff for a new one.” Tony froze, staring at Bucky with a blank look on his face, while Peter jolted upright.

“Are you serious?” he aske, head whipping back and forth between the two of them.

Bucky chuckled, “Yeah, we’re serious, bud.”

“We took some of the information from what we could read of your paper. Some of it was stuff Friday helped us scrounge up from the internet.” Steve explained.

“And then we added some first-hand information!” Bucky finished triumphantly.

“You can use it if you want, or not, but if you get started now, you should be able to finish looking it over and rewriting it for yourself tonight.” Steve glanced at Tony, concerned that maybe he would be upset about Peter possibly staying up late to work on the assignment, but Peter only looked relieved, nodding as he finally managed to slide off of Bucky’s lap.

“I can absolutely have this done, thank you so much, guys! You have no idea how much this grade was worth! Thank you, Mr. Rogers! Thank you, Mr. Barnes! Good night, Mr. Stark, can we do some lab time tomorrow maybe?” He barely managed to wait long enough to get a nod out of his adopted father before he took off for his room, anxious to complete the assignment as soon as possible.

Steve looked up at the ceiling. “Hey, Friday, will you make sure none of the other Avengers run into Peter tonight? He needs to focus on that homework of his, and they need to be dealt with before they even try to talk to him again.”

Friday answered her affirmative, and Bucky and Steve turned their attention to their boyfriend, who looked dangerously close to tears.

“What’s the matter, doll?” Bucky slid a little closer so he and Steve could share Tony’s weight (not that he really weighed much more than a wet kitten, something else he and Peter had in common).

“You guys really re-did one of Peter’s assignments for him?” Unsure of what to say, Bucky just nodded.

“Of course we did, sweetheart, what happened wasn’t his fault and it wasn’t fair. Why should his grades suffer just cause some of the other Avengers were being jerks?” Steve asked him gently. Tony just sniffled.

“That was so nice of you. Thank you.” Bucky and Steve wrapped him in a hug when his tremulous smile fell and was replaced with a frown. “But why were the others messing with him like that?” Immediately, Steve’s and Bucky’s expressions darkened. It was Steve who responded again. “Dunno. But we’re gonna find out.”

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ceealaina · 4 years

Text

Title: Computer Love Collaborator Name: ceealaina Card Number: 3088 Link: AO3 Square Filled: A3 - Artificial Intelligence Ship: Stony Rating: Explicit Major Tags: Steve Versus Technology, Get Together, Smut Summary: A spam email and a misunderstanding from Steve lead to him accidentally revealing something very surprising. Word Count: 6228

Contrary to popular belief, Steve had adapted to technology wonderfully. As far as he was concerned, microwaves were the greatest things ever invented, right after the internet and computers. He still used physical newspapers, but it was mostly just to drive Tony crazy. He could use a tablet and his phone without even thinking, and loved the array of information and music and games that were instantly available at his fingertips. And he could spend hours binge-watching tv shows and movies.

What took a lot more getting used to was people. The way they interacted now was different. It had taken him probably too long to realize that men especially didn’t stand as close, didn’t touch the same way — except for Tony, who was as touchy feely as they came. He’d apologized, once, but Steve had told him he didn’t mind, that he appreciated that easy, friendly, physical intimacy that he’d thought he’d lost in the 40s, and since then Tony had made a point of touching him, probably more often that he did anyone else.

Other interactions hadn’t been so easy.

So when Steve woke up one morning, and found the email in his work inbox -- from his own email address -- he had a brief heart attack.

Hello!

I have very bad news for you. on this day I hacked your OS and got full access to your account xxxxxxxxxx

So, you can change the password, yes… But my malware intercepts it every time.

How I made it:

In the software of the router, through which you went online, was a vulnerability. I just hacked this router and placed my malicious code on it. When you went online, my trojan was installed on the OS of your device.

After that, I made a full dump of your disk (I have all your address book, history of viewing sites, all files, phone numbers and addresses of all your contacts).

A month ago, I wanted to lock your device and ask for a not big amount of btc to unlock. But I looked at the sites that you regularly visit, and I was shocked by what I saw!!!

I’m talk you about sites for adults.

I want to say - you are a BIG pervert. Your fantasy is shifted far away from the normal course!

And I did an idea… I made a screeshot of the adult sites where you have fun (do you understand what it is about, huh?). After that, I made a screenshot of your joys (using the camera of your device) and glued them together. Turned out amazing! You are so spectacular

I’m know that you would not like to show these screenshots to your friends, relatives or colleagues. I think 51551 is a very, very small amount for my silence.

Besides, I have been spying on you for so long, having spent a lot of time!

Pay ONLY in Bitcoins!

My BTC wallet: 182pjesSewBUj8PEgfM58p64jbok3i1gNU

You do not know how to use bitcoins? Enter a query in any search engine: “how to replenish btc wallet”. It’s extremely easy

For this payment I give you two days (48 hours). As soon as this letter is opened, the timer will work.

After payment, my virus and dirty screenshots with your enjoys will be self-destruct automatically. If I do not receive from you the specified amount, then your device will be locked, and all your contacts will receive a screenshots with your “enjoys”.

I hope you understand your situation.

Do not try to find and destroy my virus! (All your data, files and screenshots is already uploaded to a remote server)

Do not try to contact me (this is not feasible, I sent you an email from your account)

Various security services will not help you; formatting a disk or destroying a device will not help, since your data is already on a remote server.

P.S. You are not my single victim. so, I guarantee you that I will not disturb you again after payment! This is the word of honor hacker

I also ask you to regularly update your antiviruses in the future. This way you will no longer fall into a similar situation.

Do not hold evil! I just do my job. Good luck.

“Oh shiiit,” Steve breathed.

It wasn’t that he had any problem with porn, or his own sexual proclivities. He had known he was attracted to both men and women since before Captain America was even a thought in anyone’s mind, and he felt exactly zero shame about that. He had, in fact, been just waiting for a Republican broadcaster to bring it up so he could announce his bisexuality in the most satisfying way possible. The increase in acceptance of different sexualities was one of his other favourite things about the future.

But that didn’t mean he wanted everyone getting full frontal shots of him jerking off.

He knew, logically, that it happened these days. He had watched exactly thirteen seconds of Tony’s sex tape before realizing that oh shit, it was real and snapping his laptop shut. But he didn’t think he could handle it quite so well -- he lacked both Tony’s sense of self-confidence, and his utter lack of shame. And he was Captain America, he was meant to be a role model, there were certain things people expected of him.

And then there was the whole other aspect of the Captain America issue. If they’d managed to hack his personal email, who knew what other sensitive information they might have come across in the process.

A feeling of panic starting to pool in his stomach, he hopped out of bed. Pausing just long enough to pull on sweatpants and a t-shirt, he grabbed his tablet and made a dash for the lab.

Tony was elbows-deep in some circuitry, although he seemed to have been expecting Steve, giving him a quick glance and a warm smile as Steve burst into the room.

“Nice outfit, Cap,” he told him, and Steve glanced down to realize his shirt was inside out and his sweatpants were on backwards. “What can I do for you?”

“Uhh.” Now that he was here, Steve wasn’t entirely sure how to explain. “I could use your… Technical expertise?” he tried, tightening his grip slightly on the tablet. “It’s sort of sensitive. And time sensitive too, for that matter.”

That, apparently, intrigued Tony enough to finish up what he was doing and give Steve his full attention. “What’s up?” he asked, taking in Steve’s harried appearance. “You okay?”

“Yeah. I mean… I think so?” Steve sighed and held out his tablet, holding it like it might explode at any moment. “I got this email this morning,” he said, deciding it would be easier to let Tony read it for himself, rather than trying to stumble his way through an explanation. “It came from my own account.”

Tony arched an eyebrow, but he looked more curious than concerned. His eyes flickered as he read over the screen, and he couldn’t have been more than a few seconds in before he started laughing. A little nonplussed, Steve folded his arms across his chest, frown creasing his forehead as Tony kept laughing over the email.

“Oh god, this is priceless,” he choked out. “The spelling! ‘A screenshot of your joys!’” There were actual tears in Tony’s eyes, he was laughing so hard, and Steve was starting to get a little offended now. “Oh god, and then trying to convince you at the end that he’s actually a good guy, and not to hate him.” Tony actually snorted, wiping tears from his eyes as he set the tablet down on a table. “Oh man. Thanks, Steve, you big pervert.” He giggled again. “It’s been a day. Or, uh…” He glanced somewhat guiltily at the clock. “Night, I guess. I really needed that.”

“Uhh… Okay.” Steve watched as Tony walked back over to his project. “But what are we going to do about it?”

“Do about it?” Tony repeated, looking utterly confused for a minute before his eyes widened. “Oh. Oh, Steve, it’s not real.”

His voice was kind, but something about it made Steve feel squirmy and uncomfortable, embarrassed by his own ignorance. “What do you mean it’s not real?” he asked.

“It’s a scam, Steve. It wasn’t even sent from a real person. It’s just a real basic AI, and an automated message.”

“But it came from my account?” Steve hated that it came out as a question.

“It’s a spoof; it didn’t really come from your account, the program just makes it look like it did.”

Steve felt his eyes go wide. “They can do that?”

“Pretty easily, actually, if you know what you’re doing.”

Steve picked up the tablet again, frowning down at it. He felt silly now, but still couldn’t help being a little worried. Tony had just written it off so quickly. What if he was wrong?

Tony sighed, coming around to stand beside him. “Look, Steve, just read it over. The writing is a mess. It’s barely comprehensible in some places.”

“Not everyone gets to go to some fancy-ass finishing school, Tony,” Steve pointed out, sounding grumpier than he’d really intended. “Their grasp of the English language doesn’t mean it’s not legit.”

“Okay,” Tony acknowledged, obviously starting to get frustrated in response to Steve’s tone. “But Steve… a ‘vulnerability in the router?’ Who has two thumbs and personally designed every bit of technology in this joint to make sure it would be completely secure?” He pointed to himself with both thumbs. “This guy! For fuck’s sake, Steve, your work computer doesn’t even have a webcam. How would they even get these screenshots?”

“Well, I don’t know, Tony,” Steve snapped back, once again opening his mouth without thinking. “You’ve got a robot butler, alright? Someone secretly taping me jerking off to Iron Man porn could definitely happen.”

For a moment, Steve didn’t even realize what he’d said, glaring mutinously down at the email. But Tony’s lack of a snappy response grew suspicious, and Steve looked up to find Tony staring at him with wide, unblinking eyes, mouth hanging open.

“I’m sorry. You jerk off to what now?”

“Uhh,” Steve cleared his throat, doing his best to give off an appearance of nonchalance. “You know, I just meant in like a… General sense of the meaning.” He was pretty sure the blush he could feel setting his cheeks on fire was giving him away.

“Right,” Tony said, tilting his head as he eyed him consideringly. He leaned back against a table, crossing his legs at the ankles and folding his arms across his chest. “So you only jerk off to Iron Man porn in a general sense.”

“Yes,” Steve said with confidence that he didn’t feel. “Wait, no! I don’t jerk off to Iron Man porn. I just meant that… someone could… jerk off to Iron Man porn.”

“Oh, I see.” Tony nodded sagely, but he was openly grinning at him now. “You were referring to the general me, and not the specific me.”

Steve glared, but it was lacking in heat. “I know you’re just making fun of me,” he grumbled. Tony gave him a pointed look in return, like he deserved it. “Look, you’re very…” He gesticulated wildly at Tony, trying to encompass everything he was. “You. And then the suits are amazing pieces of technology, and the way they move and…”

“Huh.” Tony licked his lip almost nervously, before a shit-eating smirk crossed his lips. “So is that why you spend so much time hanging out with me down here? Perving on my suits and storing up images for the spank bank?”

“No!” Steve burst out. “No, of course not. I’m here because I enjoy spending time with you!”

Tony’s eyebrow arched, tongue flicking out again. It was very distracting. “So then is it Iron Man porn you’re watching, or Tony Stark porn?”

Steve’s eyes went wide. “There’s Tony Stark porn??” he demanded, before realizing that his voice probably came out just a little too enthused at that prospect. “I mean, uh… Like you were in a blue film, or…?” He trailed off as he suddenly realized what Tony probably meant.

“Uhh.” Tony’s expression was difficult to read. “Well, I was just talking about the knock off pornos, some guy with a business suit and a poorly maintained goatee banging a bunch of blondes. But, uh.” He rubbed at his eyebrow. “There were some definite lapses in judgment, when I was younger. Some tapes I made when I was too… inebriated to think the better of it, and had extremely poor taste in partners. They’re probably still floating around the internet, if you take the safe search off.”

It was said flippantly, but Steve spent a lot of time watching Tony. He could see the slight edge to his smile, the twist of his ankle that meant he actually was a little embarrassed, even if he was playing it off.

“It’s Iron Man,” Steve told him quickly. “It’s definitely Iron Man. Something about that suit… I don’t know.” He shrugged helplessly.

“Ah, well then.” Tony was still grinning, wide and bright, but for just an instant it seemed like his eyes had dimmed slightly. “Remind me to adjust your permissions so you’re not allowed down here alone, huh?”

Steve rolled his eyes. “Tony.”

Tony waggled his eyebrows at him, laughing, but he was turning away and it felt like something had shifted between them. Steve couldn’t help feeling like he was disappointed, somehow. He couldn’t get a read on him, but Tony had been licking his lips an awful lot and, well. Steve had always been a bit of an insufferable idealist.

“I mean,” he started, before he could talk himself out of it. “I also didn’t know that Tony Stark was an option, so… That might change things, a little… Now…”

Tony had gone still, his back a straight line, and with a sinking feeling Steve started to wonder if he’d gotten it entirely wrong.

“I mean, um. Unless that makes you uncomfortable, in which case… I mean, I would never violate your privacy and look at your tapes, but if even the idea freaks you out, I just…” He winced as Tony turned around again, openly grinning at him again. “I just mean if it freaks you out we can forget I ever said anything,” he finished lamely. He could feel his skin growing hotter and he heaved out a sigh before burying his face in his hands. “Don’t suppose you have a built-in feature that let’s the floor open up and swallow me whole?” he mumbled into his skin.

“No,” Tony told him, and there was laughter in his voice. “But I’ll get to work on that right away.”

Steve just nodded, still hiding his face as he waited for the flaming heat of his skin to die down a little. Before it did though, Tony was kicking his ankle.

“Hey. Steve, you’re fine. I’m not mad. I’m really, really not mad.”

Steve nodded again, finally lifting his head back up although he couldn’t quite bring himself to look at Tony directly. “Right, well. I’m going to quit the team and become a vigilante instead. Maybe make my own costume… I’ve always liked blue and yellow.”

He made no actual attempt to leave though, couldn’t seem to manage to remove himself from Tony’s orbit. Out of the corner of his eye, he could see Tony chewing at his lip.

“You know,” Tony said after a minute. “I never actually told anyone this, not even Rhodey — don’t know why, we were dating for fuck’s sake. But uh.” He shook his head, realizing he was distracted. “When I was a kid, I had this vintage Captain America poster on my wall?”

Steve's head snapped over to look at him, feeling his breath catch in his chest. Tony shook his head, grinning a little foolishly.

“Come on, Steve. You know where I’m going with this.”

Steve shrugged, grinning at him helplessly. “Tell me anyway.”

Meeting his eyes, Tony kept perfect eye contact as he continued. “So when I was a little older, I started getting these urges…” He smirked when Steve rolled his eyes. “Spent a lot of nights jerking off to that poster, Steve. Fantasizing about, well… You. And honestly? Not a lot has changed since then.” He pushed off the table he was leaning against, moving forward. Steve’s heart stopped as Tony stalked toward him until he was close enough that Steve could practically feel his breath on his lips. “Tony Stark is definitely an option,” he breathed.

For a moment silence hung between them, heavy as Tony waited for Steve to make the next move. And then all at once Steve surged forward, hands curling tight around Tony’s hips as he yanked him up tight against his body. He’d probably used a little more force that was strictly necessary, but judging by the way Tony’s eyes darkened, and the soft, breathy noise he made, he didn’t mind in the slightest. Steve hesitated only a moment longer, eyes locked with Tony’s, before he leaned in to kiss him. It was gentle at first, a little tentative, but then Tony made another soft, needy noise, and Steve couldn’t stop himself from reacting, pushing the kiss deeper, licking along the seam of Tony’s lips until he opened up for him, kissing him until Tony was out of breath and pulling back with heavy panting breaths.

They stood there, grinning goofily at each other for a ridiculously long minute before Tony finally cleared his throat. “So, Cap? Did I measure up to all your fantasies?”

“More than,” Steve told him quickly, not even giving it a second thought. “Jesus Christ, Tony.” His hands flexed on Tony’s hips, and then he was drawing him in for another kiss, feeling his knees go a little weak as he felt Tony’s cock hardening against his thigh.

“Um.” Tony was looking a little flushed when they pulled away again, and Steve delighted in the fact. “No pressure, if you’re not up for it.” He snickered then, pressing his face into Steve’s shoulder for a minute as he got his ridiculous laugh under control. “Metaphorically speaking, since I can tell part of you is very up for it.” He emphasized this with a purposeful grind of his leg against Steve’s dick and Steve groaned in exasperation even as he nearly choked at the sensation. “What is it I see in you again?”

Tony beamed at him, and then his hands were curling around the back of Steve’s neck, dragging him down for another kiss that had Steve seeing stars.

“That,” he told him smugly, and Steve couldn’t even argue. “But as I was saying, if you want, we could, uh… See how many more of your fantasies we can bring to life?”

He was waggling his eyebrows like an absolute idiot, but there was also something soft and tentative and a little nervous in his expression. It cleared a moment later, when Steve nodded his head so fast that he nearly gave himself whiplash. “Yeah, that uh… That sounds good. Please.”

Tony’s grin grew impossibly wider, and then he was turning around, heading for the far corner of the lab. “Normally I’d try to impress you with my incredible view and high thread count sheets,” he said, glancing over a shoulder and snickering when he caught Steve blatantly checking out the bounce of his ass. “But uh… You’ve already seen all that, and I honestly don’t think I can stand to wait long enough to get you upstairs.” He plopped himself down on the side of the cot he kept down there, legs spread wide, and crooked his fingers at Steve. “C’mere, baby.”

Steve eyed the cot skeptically. “I don’t think that’s gonna hold us,” he told him, although it didn’t stop him from practically sprinting over to join him.

“Relax, handsome. It’s reinforced for Iron Man. We’ll be just fine. It’s science.”

Steve was skeptical about this particular brand of ‘science’ but Tony was leaning back against the mattress now, arching an eyebrow at him enticingly. His t-shirt had rucked up a little, revealing a deliciously tanned bit of skin at his hip, and the image was too good to resist. Steve moved forward until he was kneeling on the mattress, straddling Tony’s hips and looming over him. Tony licked his lips, staring up at him with wide eyes, and Steve leaned down to kiss him, groaning as their upper bodies pressed together.

“Fuck,” he cursed, couldn’t stop himself from grinding down against him, toes curling at the pressure on his cock. “Jesus, Tony. Wanted this for so long.”

Tony bit his lip, looking absolutely delighted, and then he was leaning back until he was flat on his back, spreading his legs to make room for Steve in between them. He curled a hand in Steve’s wrinkled t-shirt and tugged at it. “This? Needs to come off.”

“You first,” Steve told him, trying to at least pretend like he was cool.

Tony arched an eyebrow, looking like he was considering arguing just on the principle of it, but then he relented, sitting up a little to haul his t-shirt up over his head. He didn’t give Steve time to look before he was grabbing at the hem of his shirt too, yanking until Steve shifted enough to let him pull it off over his head, leaving his hair rumpled and messy. Tony grinned at him, combing it back from his hair in a surprisingly soft gesture. Then his eyes were drifting lower, catching somewhere around Steve’s nipples.

“Christ, look at you,” he mumbled. His hips rocked up and Steve groaned, fingers clenching against Tony’s hips, grinding down against him again.

“Tony,” he gasped, head tipping forward to press against his shoulder. Tony huffed out a low laugh, and he slid a hand down Steve’s chest, tracing the lines of his pecs and making Steve pant into his skin. “Tony,” he said again. “Shit, I’m —,”

“Yeah?” Tony asked. He sounded like he was smirking. “Feel good?”

Steve nodded, unable to put into words exactly how sensitive his chest was. His cock ached and he couldn’t seem to stop himself from grinding down against Tony over and over, feeling his balls pulling up tight. He mouthed desperately over Tony’s neck, sucking against his skin, and Tony’s legs tightened around his hips, his fingers tangling in the strands of Steve’s hair and tugging just hard enough to send sharp fizzles of pleasure shooting up Steve’s spine.

“Me too,” Tony hummed, rubbing up against him. “God Steve, you feel amazing.”

He groaned deep in his throat, tilting his head when Steve’s teeth scraped over his pulse point. And then his hand was shifting again, pinching and rubbing over Steve’s nipple. Steve’s eyes went wide and sightless, and he sobbed a moan into Tony’s neck as he came right there, grinding down against Tony as he dragged out his orgasm.

“Oh god,” he muttered when he felt like he could breathe again. “Oh fuck.”

He could feel Tony’s hand rubbing soft and soothing over the back of his neck, and he squirmed a little in embarrassment.

“Um.” He lifted his head to give Tony a somewhat sheepish look. “Hey.”

“Hey.” Tony was grinning back at him, actually looking pleased. He shifted a little, moving back until he was on the bed properly, sitting up and leaning into the couple of pillows at the head of the bed, half dragging Steve with him owing to the way they were all tangled up together. His grin grew wider when he was met with Steve’s flushed face, and he brushed a flop of hair back from his forehead. “Don’t worry about it, Cap,” he told him, his other hand stroking absently over Steve’s thigh. “Happens to the best of us. Honestly, I’m flattered that I--,”

Tony cut himself as his hand shifted over a little too far and Steve made a faint, punched out noise. For a long minute Tony just blinked at him, and then, deliberately this time, he gripped Steve through his sweatpants, thumb rubbing over the head of his still-hard cock through the damp material.

“Jesus fucking Christ,” he breathed, soft like Steve wasn’t supposed to hear. “Are you… Again? Already??”

“Uh.” Steve felt his cheeks flush even deeper red. “Well, still. But yeah.”

A high-pitched, desperate noise slipped out of Tony’s mouth and his hands pulled away from Steve, clenching against the sheets like he was trying not to come himself. “Is…” He cleared his throat and tried again. “Is this a common thing, or am I just special?”

“Yes,” Steve answered before he’d even fully processed the question. “Yes, you’re definitely special.” He watched Tony’s face go soft and a little flustered at how sincere he was. “But uh… Two or three times is pretty much the norm for me.”

Tony blew out a long breath, shaking his head and looking absolutely thrilled. “I am one lucky man.”

Steve couldn’t help smirking at him. “Not yet,” he told him. “But you’re about to get very lucky.”

Tony blinked at him, then started laughing, and while he was still cackling delightedly, Steve ambushed him. Getting his hands around Tony’s hips, he yanked him down a little lower. Amusement still on his face, Tony looked up at him with an arched eyebrow, clearly waiting for Steve’s next move. Steve ran his palms up and down over Tony’s thighs, noting the way Tony’s eyes followed the motion, the way his abs clenched at how big Steve’s hands were against his legs.

“Can I…?”Steve didn’t finish the question, instead shifting his hand to toy with the button of Tony’s jeans. Tony swallowed hard and nodded, staring at Steve with wide, dark eyes.

“Be my guest.”

His cock twitched.

With one orgasm out of the way, Steve was feeling more relaxed, not quite so desperate as before. He couldn’t resist teasing Tony now, sliding his hands up his thighs again, thumbs on either side of his cock, not quite touching him through his jeans. He felt the strong muscles in Tony’s legs clench, flicked his eyes up to see Tony open his mouth like he wanted to protest only to clench his jaw and keep quiet, eyeing Steve as he waited for his next move. Steve grinned and rewarded him with a quick stroke of his thumb over the bulge in the denim, his own cock giving a gratified twitch at the sharp inhale that Tony couldn’t quite hold back.

“You’re a fucking tease,” Tony breathed, sounding both surprised and pleased by this revelation. Steve looked up at him again, gave him a wink, and took advantage of Tony’s resulting eyeroll to thumb open the button of his jeans.

Tony groaned at that, the sound coming from deep in his chest, the perfect blend of aroused and content. His hips twitched a little as some of the pressure was relieved and when Steve’s eyes tracked the movement, Tony rocked them again intentionally, letting his pants slide a little lower on his hips.

Steve grinned, and instead of opening his pants further, he curled his hands around Tony’s thighs again, easily spreading his legs wider, just because he could.

“Can I blow you?” he asked, just to see if he could pull another one of those incredible sounds out of Tony. This one was better, a high pitched breathy noise, like Steve had left him utterly shocked for a brief moment.

“Yes,” Tony told him, nodding a little frantically and mussing up his hair against the pillows. “Yes, absolutely. Hell, Steve. You get these pants off me, and you can do whatever the fuck you want.”

“Oh yeah?” Steve grinned and settled himself between Tony’s legs, unable to resist rocking down against the mattress for a moment. His own pants were starting to feel sticky and uncomfortable now, and he considered a minute before shoving them off entirely, the movement quick and perfunctory.

Tony made a soft noise, clearly disappointed that he wasn’t getting a better view, and Steve hid his smile against his hip. Without further ado, Steve slid Tony’s zipper down and then shoved his jeans down over his hips. Tony moved with him easily, as in sync with each other as ever, arching and wiggling in the appropriate moments to get himself unclothed as quickly as possible. When he saw the bright red silky thing that Tony was wearing underneath, the thin fabric straining against the weight of his hardon, Steve had to take a minute to just shake his head.

“Jesus Christ,” he muttered. “You’re so fucking… Decadent.”

“You say that like it’s a bad thing. Nothing wrong with a little decadence, Steve. You ever try anything besides those cotton boxer briefs you like so much? I’ve got a hookup, if you wanted to... expand your horizons, a little.” Tony’s gaze went a little unfocused, mind jumping seventeen steps ahead, as usual. “God, you’d look amazing in something lacy. Maybe a pretty little thong, show off that ridiculous butt of yours. Or--,”

Tony made a noise dangerously close to a squeal as Steve, without any warning, cut him off by dipping his head, sucking at him through the fabric. Tony clapped a hand over his mouth, like he could somehow take the sound back. “Or that. That’s good too.”

Steve huffed out a laugh, drawing another gasp out of Tony as the sensation vibrated up his dick. “You got it, boss,” he hummed, grinning when Tony shifted beneath his hands.

“You’re such an asshole,” Tony protested, although he was laughing. Steve just looked up at him and winked again; if Tony thought he was an asshole, he could show him a real asshole.

Taking his time, Steve placed gentle, sucking kisses up the length of his thick cock, still through the silky red fabric, more of a tease than any real pressure. Tony shuddered, whining under his breath, and out of the corner of his eye, Steve saw his fingers twist in the sheets beside his hips.

Steve pulled back long enough to catch Tony’s hands in his, meeting his eyes steadily as he placed them on the back of his head and gave Tony a pointed look.

“Jesus Christ,” Tony groaned, head tipping back. It didn’t stop his fingers from tangling in Steve’s hair. “This is not what I was expecting from you.”

Steve shivered at the idea that Tony might have thought about this before. “Well, you know me. I’m just full of surprises.” He didn’t give Tony a chance to answer before he ducked lower, nuzzling at his balls. Tony made a pained noise, like it was so good he couldn’t stand it, and tightened his legs around Steve’s shoulders. Steve grinned and moved his hands back to Tony’s thighs, sliding them up and running the pads of his fingers through the coarse hair there. He slid them up until they were sliding under the elastic at the tops of his legs, teasing the skin hidden from view. He watched Tony’s cock twitch again, as he slid toward the crease of his groin.

“Fuck,” Tony groaned, yanking at Steve’s hair until he shuddered. His voice was rough and hoarse. “Steve, if you don’t get these fucking things off of me…”

Steve grinned, dipping his head to scrape his teeth over Tony’s hipbone. But he was itching for more too, and relented after that, pulling his hands free to grab at the waistband instead. Tony made a pleased sound, arching his hips to help Steve slide the fitted material down over his legs.

“Shit,” Steve breathed as he was met with Tony’s thick cock, flushed and full, curving up toward his belly. “Look at you.” He blew out a slow breath, grinning when it breezed over Tony’s sensitive skin, making his cock twitch and back arch again.

“Steve,” he groaned. “Steve, come on. Give me more, I need more. Please.”

Steve shivered, rewarded Tony with a lick from base to tip. “I like the sound of that,” he said, hearing how low his own voice had gone. “You saying please.”

“Yeah?” Tony was grinning, obviously playing all cool and collected, but Steve had seen the wall his cock had throbbed. “You gonna make me beg, Rogers?”

“Maybe.” Steve settled back between Tony’s legs, teasing his legs with his tongue and teeth, avoiding his cock altogether. Tony made a soft whining noise, trying to push himself closer, tugging at Steve’s hair to try and get him where he wanted, but Steve responded by pinning his hips to the mattress, holding him still as he mapped out the sensitive parts of his body, the places that made Tony twitch and moan and tug reflexively at the strands of Steve’s hair. He didn’t relent, no matter how much Tony tried, teasing him until he was a panting, shifting mess, head rolling back against the pillows as Steve wound him up until he couldn’t see straight.

“Fu-uck,” Tony gasped, arching his back and tipping his head back. His neck made an enticing image, and for a moment Steve was distracted, thinking about how badly he wanted to mark it up. “Okay, Christ, you win. Please Steve, please. I’ll do anything, just please. Fucking touch me. Let me come, Steve, please.”

Steve had ignored his own erection in favour of tormenting Tony, but it came back with a vengeance at the sound of Tony begging for him, his cock throbbing between his legs. He ground down against the mattress once, stroked a thumb over the curve of Tony’s hipbone.

“Yeah,” he said, suddenly done with teasing. “Yeah, sweetheart. Whatever you want, you got it.” And then, because he’d always be a troll, he glanced up at Tony with a wicked smile. “Hey, did you know that I can hold my breath for fifteen minutes?”

And while Tony was still parsing that in his flustered state, Steve curled his hand around the base of his cock and lowered his head, not stopping until Tony was pressing into his throat and Steve was groaning around his mouthful.

“Oh Christ,” Tony wailed, hips bucking despite having nowhere else to go. He yanked hard at Steve’s hair, and Steve felt it in his balls. “Oh fuck, Steve, your fucking mouth.” He rocked desperately against him, going nearly cross-eyed as Steve sucked around him. He cursed and shifted as Steve pulled slowly off his cock, tongued at the head, before sucking him back down again. “I’m not… You can’t… Don’t judge me cause I’m gonna come in about two -- fuck!”

Steve’s free hand moved, thumb rubbing harshly over his perineum, and for a brief moment Tony went stock still before he was coming hard, hands holding Steve’s head down as he came down his throat. The feeling was too much for Steve, who rocked down hard against the mattress, spilling against the sheets.

It was a minute before Tony’s hands let go enough for Steve to pull off, panting more from the thrill of his orgasm than from any real exertion. He rubbed his sweaty forehead against the smooth skin of Tony’s abdomen, feeling it flex as he tried to catch his breath, and he grinned as Tony’s hand resettled on the back of his head, combing absently over the short strands.

“Oh fuck,” Tony finally said, sounding like he’d only just remembered how to speak. “Oh fuck, that was… That was incredible, Steve.” There was no teasing in his voice, sweet and sincere, and Steve felt a warm, comfortable weight settle over him at the sound.

Lifting himself up on slightly shaking limbs, he crawled up the mattress until he was face-to-face with Tony again, flopping down on the pillows beside him. It was a tight fit, but gave him an excuse to wrap an arm around Tony’s waist. “Yeah,” he admitted, aware that he was grinning like an absolute idiot. “Yeah, it really was.”

Tony grinned back at him, equally stupidly, and then leaned forward, kissing Steve all slow and lazy now.

“Oh hey,” he said, pulling back suddenly. “Sorry about, uh…” He gestured vaguely between them. “Coming down your throat without asking like that. Terrible sex etiquette.”

Steve snorted, pressing his head to Tony’s collarbone as he laughed giddily. “It’s fine,” he promised him. “I wouldn’t’ve let you if I didn’t want it.” He lifted his head again to find Tony watching him with that same soft expression and he reached out, catching Tony’s hand and toying with his long fingers. “So. What now?” he asked, not quite meeting Tony’s eyes.

“Now?” Tony repeated. “Now I’m thinking we take a shower, get cleaned up, and then maybe go upstairs and crawl into my bigger, more comfortable bed for a couple hours together?” He trailed off a little hopefully, and Steve looked up at him, felt his breath catch. “And then, uh…” Tony ducked his head and twisted his wrist so he could rub his thumb over Steve’s pulse point. “Then maybe I could take you to dinner? I’ve got this little Italian place I think you’d love.”

“Yes,” Steve told him, and it was entirely too earnest but Tony didn’t look like he minded at all. “Yes, that sounds perfect.”

@tonystarkbingo

#tonystarkbingo2020 #tsb2020 #stony #get together #humor #tony stark #steve rogers #lemon #fic #my fic

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fallingfromdepression · 4 years

Text

10/28/2020

writing this in the middle of a class session per usual, but we’re going over a midterm exam from monday that we had 24 hours to work on and turn in. and well guess who’s the person who didn’t even LOOK at the midterm until around 9-10pm my time (it was due at 11am my time) so I pulled an all-nighter to do it ... anyway listening to the professor and some students discuss the midterm answers during this class session and i’m like LMAO ... i am so fucked because while my thoughts may be in the right direction, my answers were definitely not as developed bc 1. i literally worked on it in the wee hours of the night when my brain is basically shut down and 2. I have only been watching lectures and not doing ANY of the readings. and the latter point is important bc legit the last midterm question most ppl apparently referenced the latest class reading we were supposed to have done and i just said some underdeveloped bullshit not referencing anything.

i mean i’m fucked for all of my classes basically bc i’ve been putting off doing all work. i’m behind on like 2-3 lectures in one class, i have a midterm essay due friday that i haven’t even STARTED thinking abt or working on at all (only 2 pages tho so i’m not AS fucked as i could be), and i have a graded discussion for this class above that closes tmr that i still haven’t added to bc 1. i still haven’t finished the reading and 2. ppl be writing goddamn ESSAYS and also seem to know shit and i’m just like idk anything at all. and like i see all this and i’m like ok i need to take time to work on it but yet i just be on twitter and youtube and IG basically 24/7 not doing work even when deadlines creep and eventually barrel closer.

i mean part of it is anxiety, i’m too nervous to do it bc i know i won’t get it done perfectly (bc i haven’t been doing any readings and shit) so i just put it off and then end up having to submit crap anyway. but part of it is just me being a fucker bc i’ve managed to scrape by the last 2-3 yrs with this bare minimum mentality so theoretically i can do it again for this next year but the issue is now it’s starting to show in my grades bc before i could manage A-B grades but now it’s going into lower B-C range aka actually reflecting my lack of motivation and low quality of work. and also i’m getting no sleep so maybe that’s impacting the number of brain cells i can rub together for warmth. i just don’t feel motivated to do work even when the deadline is breathing down my neck, and i get easily distracted/lose focus when i’m actually attempting to do the work. idk if it’s unaddressed adhd cropping up more (context i’ve never officially been diagnosed with it but i’ve been reading cases of ppl struggling with adhd suddenly in higher edu situations lately and it just sounds a lot like what’s going on with me) or if it’s me with shit health habits. i’m not even motivated to do things i feel like i’d enjoy doing, like art projects or whatever idek. i’m just going by each day scrolling through twitter and IG uselessly, watching youtube videos when i should be doing schoolwork or actual work at my part-time job, and feeling miffed abt the state of affairs and the world yet doing nothing abt it (like volunteering or reading up on theory or etc).

starting to think maybe i seriously do need to see a therapist. i feel scared of saying all this bc i literally put myself in this situation and i don’t really want to hear a therapist telling me what i already know aka i need to do the work to get out of this hole, it’s not all gonna get solved by continuing to bury my head in the sand. but since i don’t have any close friends or friends in general to talk about this with, and i don’t really want to unload on my sibling or academic advisor... i really need to get an outlet to just spill all this out and maybe get a new, fresh view on it. the thing abt therapy is tht it feels exhausting to have to do multiple intakes to try to find the right therapist though ... i just want the first one to be good for me and then go from there. i did one intake sometime last year and that therapist was aight so honestly maybe i should just go with her for now so at least i got SOMEONE... god getting it all down makes me realize how fucked and unhinged i am fr. i didn’t mean for these diary entries to be like this but my academics are so tied up with my mental health so it makes sense.

#diary

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yodawgiherd · 4 years

Text

Gradual Development

>>>Read on AO3<<<

Rating: M

Ch.123 was legit fire, so good that it roused me from my slumber and made me write for once. A spicy chapter at that, you know how I like it. And if you do too, well then... Enjoy!

Assignments assignments assignments. Head full of them, Mikasa pushed the door to her dorm room open, planning out the order in which she had to tackle the projects the lecturers just kept showering her in, only to be greeted by a sight that definitely wasn’t supposed to be there.

“Uh.”

Turning from the drawer, where he was most likely searching for some of the clothes he left there, Eren did look a bit embarrassed, caused by the fact that he was, in fact, naked, the towel around his waist and wet hair indicating that he just left the shower.

“Hey, I hope you don’t mind that I used your bathroom. Sasha said that she didn’t mind before heading out and I really needed one after the workout.”, he grimaced, rolling his shoulders, “That shit is hard, yet it looks so easy when you do it.”

Mikasa should really be listening to what he was saying, pay attention and stuff, but instead of that her eyes just kept being drawn to that one droplet of water slowly making its way down Eren’s chest. All of a sudden, the assignments didn’t feel so important anymore.

“You’re… Uhm… free for the rest of the day, right?”, she asked, gaze following that rogue drop of water as it kept sliding lower and lower.

“…Yes?”

“Good.”

The sound of surprise he made when she pulled him towards the bed was adorable. Screw it, the schoolwork could wait.

Leg around his waist, and before he realized it, Eren was lying on his back, staring upwards into Mikasa’s pale face, flushed red at the moment.

“What’s this?”, he asked, hands coming up to rest at her thighs.

“I think it’s called cowgirl.”, Mikasa watched him from this new position with interest, liking the way he looked under her. “Woman on top, riding. Look it’s just something new to try, okay? Like when you push your fingers into my mouth, or when you put my legs on your shoulders the last time we��”

“Hey, you don’t have to explain yourself.”, Eren looked amused a bit, by how quickly she became flustered around things like this. “We can try whatever you like.”

Good then. To show him just how pleasant this can be, she started stirring her hips, rubbing herself on him. She was rather glad that they stripped earlier because the way his member felt prodding at her entrance was quite nice. The hiss that escaped him and the way his fingers dug into her flesh was all she needed as a confirmation that Eren was more than willing to go along with her idea.

“Want to give this a go?”, she cooed, giving her hips a little twist.

The speed with which she nodded only made her smirk. Wrapping her fingers around his length, she positioned herself over him while holding him upright, slowly sinking down after. Eren was mesmerized, staring at where they were joined, watching himself disappear into her, inch by inch, the wet tightness sucking him in.

“Holy fuck.”, he breathed out when their hips were flush against each other, while Mikasa struggled for breath on top of him. It was different this way, deeper, and she felt more stretched than normally. But in return, it gave her complete control over it, the whole thing, and she did love being in charge. Slowly, experimentally, Mikasa started circling her hips, gasping at the way his member kept pushing at her walls. Her eyes kept fluttering closed, but she forced them open because watching the way Eren groaned and moaned underneath was so worth it. When the stretching stopped being so irritating, she paused, and soon Eren looked back up at her, most likely wondering why the wonderful massage halted.

“You like that?”, she asked, although she knew the answer already.

“L-Love it.”

Dragging a single finger down his face, she made a quick stop at his chest to pinch his nipple, experimenting. Hers were sensitive, and Eren did love playing with them, so what about his? And from the way he shivered, her guess that his were too was rather accurate. Satisfied, she started rocking back and forth, finding a rhythm she liked.

“Then let me take care of you.”

The broken whine that he made, that was all the answer she needed.

“Wait, wait stop.“

Those words were everything that Eren needed to pull out immediately, sitting back on his knees and watching Mikasa calm her breathing. They were still new to this, this whole sex thing, so naturally he just thought that he did something that she didn’t like, but instead of explaining herself further, she flashed him a nervous smile.

“I want to try something.”

Again?

“Try what?”

Twisting beneath him, Mikasa managed to scramble on her hands and knees, looking over her shoulder.

“I want you to do me like this.”

“Like this?”, Eren crawled closer, slowly dragging his hand over her beautiful ass, “You want me to fuck you like this?”

“Obviously.”, she rolled her eyes at him, signifying just how stupid that question was.

If she wanted it, he certainly wouldn’t object. Carefully guiding himself back, Eren had to grab at Mikasa’s hips for support, the feeling of her just as overwhelming as the first time, maybe even more.

“Like this?”, he panted out, the question met with a feverish agreement.

“Y-Yea, just like that.”, the look she threw him was one of pure lust, “Eren, move.”

He would never say no to that.

“How did you like it?”, she asked after the deed was done, and they were just tangled together on the bed, breathing each other’s scent. “The position.”

“What, we are grading our sex now?”

She pinched him.

“Just answer the question.”

“Miki, anything with you is an A+, but if you are asking about the specific way then…”, Eren’s bran usually didn’t function right whenever she took her clothes off, so recalling details was hard, but he managed to get the overall picture into his mind, “I liked the depth, and the freedom of movement it gave me, but you were too far. And I didn’t get to see your face when you came.”

“Right, that’s a big minus.”

“You’re just saying that because you never saw yourself climaxing.”, fingers combing her hair, he grinned at her, “You have this special thing, this face when your mouth is open, tongue out, and your eyes roll back. It’s fucking adorable, I love it.”

Mikasa seemed a bit embarrassed, murmuring something he didn’t catch and averting her eyes, so he entertained himself by letting his eyes wander all over her naked body, taking in the perfection he would never grow tired of. During his inspection, he came across some marks that certainly weren’t there when she came from class, which meant that he made them, no one else. Love bites on her neck were normal, but the mark of his teeth on her shoulder was a new one, same as the red spots on her hips where he gripped her while thrusting in.

“Was I too rough?”, he asked, tracing the proof of their lovemaking with the tips of his finger, worried.

But as was usual with Mikasa, she surprised him once more.

“No, I don’t mind.”, shaking her head, she grabbed his hand, raising it to her mouth and pressing a kiss to it, “I actually like it when you are rough with me.”

“You do?”

Mikasa nodded, still slightly blushing.

“What about you? Do you like it when I get rough on you?”

“I… Uhm…”, Eren pondered the question, but there really was no point in denying when that really did enjoy when Mikasa let herself go, pressing him into the mattress and slamming her hips into his with a force that rocked the bed frame. Especially not after she herself admitted to liking it so freely. “I like it too.”

“Well, that’s good.”

“Great.”

“Amazing.”

“Spectacular.”

“Astounding.”

“Miki, I’m too tired to think.”, to muffle her victorious cry, Eren pulled her close, pressing his mouth against hers. “Let’s just say that it’s cool that we both like getting a little rough and leave it at that.”

“Sure. But I still won.”

Eren rolled his eyes.

Mikasa hated officiality. Especially when she got summoned into her professor’s office and made to wait on his dumb couch while the man was doing god knows what. In accordance with her feelings about this, she dressed in the most punk way she could think of. Lace-up combat boots that went all the way up to her knees, fishnets and a short skirt, combined with a shirt adorned with the edgiest picture she could find in her wardrobe, leather jacket, and heavy eyeliner and black lipstick. There, no one could call this formal, even in their wildest dreams. Fuck the system.

But all her efforts would be fruitless if the man didn’t show, so here she was, tapping her foot against the floor, impatient to be finally done with this shit. The door finally creaking open, he entered, sparing her only a passing glance before he pulled in a chair and sat down next to her, clearing his throat.

“Miss Ackerman, thank you for coming.”

She just nodded, not feeling the need to make a vocal response.

“I’ve been going through your exam results,”, he continued, seeing that she was giving him the silent treatment, “and it’s bad, really bad. With scores like these, I don’t think that I can let you finish my class successfully.”

Mikasa’s eyes went wide. What was this asshole saying? She couldn’t fail this class, there was no way.

“Seriously?”, she asked, and the nod he gave her planted a stone inside her stomach.

She. Couldn’t. Fail. Whatever it took. Internally grimacing, she shuffled a bit closer, looking up at the professor’s bemused expression.

“Listen, I uh... I would do anything, and I mean anything, to pass this class.”, reaching out, she put her hand on his thigh, close to the crotch, “You get me?”

Oh, he seemed to understand, grinning.

“Anything?”

Mentally cursing him, she nodded.

“Anything.”

“Well, you could…”, his hand touched her face, caressing her cheek, “you know…. Study?”

Mikasa jumped to her feet, giving the lector a very irritated look.

“Screw you, Eren, do you really have to put your jokes into everything?”

He was laughing, the bastard, doing his best to try to hold it in, and failing miserably at it. But she was far from amused. They were still not very comfortable with things like roleplay, and it certainly didn’t help when Eren just had to ruin it all for a punchline. Frowning, she turned to leave, but he caught her hand, shaking his head.

“Miki please, I’m so sorry okay? The setup was just way too good.”, lifting her hand to his lips, he kissed the tips of his fingers, doing his best apologetic expression, “Can we go again? I promise I’ll do it right this time.”

Normally, she would tell him to fuck off, but after wasting all this time on picking her outfit and doing the makeup, it would be a shame to just let the evening crash on the fact that Eren couldn’t keep his mouth shut sometimes.

“All right, last chance.”, Mikasa conceded, sitting back down, “But if you do shit like this again, I’m leaving, and you can suck your own dick. Understand?”

“I’m not sure I’m physically capable of doing that, but I get you. Crystal clear.”

“Okay.”, she sighed, “Let’s go again, but you’re on thin ice.”

“Well, there’s something you could do for me then.”, Eren’s hand grabbed her own, moving it right above his growing excitement. “If you really do want to pass.”

Dropping to her knees, Mikasa freed him, working the length with her hand after, watching the way his breathing labored. For this, she’s going to make that joker beg for it, that was for sure. Smirking, she got to work.

In the end, it was a rather pleasant evening. Even with Levi looking at the brink of biting Eren’s head off, for no apparent reason, Mikasa was a delight, more than making up for it. That came partly from Eren being the designated driver for the evening, allowing her to get tipsy, which translated into a bit more giggling and flushed cheeks than usual. After saying their goodbyes to her brother, she didn’t say much, just nodding her head to the rhythm of the music on the way home, so Eren guessed that she was tired. But when they reached their parking spot, and he tried getting out of the car, an iron hold appeared on his arm, holding him in place.

“What’s up?”, he asked Mikasa, who’s been casting suspicious glances all around herself.

“You’ve been really nice tonight.”, she said, undoing her seat belt and shuffling closer, her greys meeting his green eyes without blinking. “I think you deserve a reward.”

Before he could say anything, she kissed him, hard, tangling her fingers into his hair to pull him closer. Now Eren was no stranger in making out in the car, but when he felt her hand push into his groin, it did give him a pause.

“Hey, what are you doing?”, he managed to whisper, breaking out of the kiss for a moment. But Mikasa didn’t let him go.

“Shhhh, just enjoy it.”, with that, her head dipped, going down the same path her hand went, making Eren’s eyes widen. Not that he was against the idea, but they were sitting in a public parking lot, and even though it was rather late, the possibility of a random pedestrian walking in on them was there.

“Wait… you want to… here?”

She didn’t answer. Instead, she pressed her mouth right against his newly freed member, licking all around his length before closing her mouth around the head, and Eren was done complaining. It had a unique kind of thrill, because even with his vision going white, and the spots dancing in his eyes, he still did his best to monitor the outside, trying to prevent the rather awkward situation that would follow, should they be found out. For her part, Mikasa seemed past caring, making no effort to be quiet or anything, easily making his composition crumble. Surrendering to the inevitable, because being alert was just not a possibility with her lips around his length, Eren gave up on his guard duty, fully giving himself to her.

They were lucky. No one has decided for an evening jog around the campus, no one walked past finding his way back from a party, and Eren was very thankful for it. He was also thankful for the fact that Mikasa had no problem with swallowing because Eren was rather sure that clearing your climax from the insides of your car might not be the most pleasing activity. When he did finish, and she straightened with a satisfied smirk, he just stared at her, not sure what to say or how to thank her, but all she did was a quick wink and she was out of the car, walking towards their room as if nothing had happened. Fixing his appearance, Eren, however, did promise himself that he would get back at her. One day.

The day happened much sooner than he expected because Levi was invited to a formal dinner, by some rich guy whose wife he apparently helped get back in shape, and because he had no significant other he asked Mikasa to accompany him. Which was followed by Eren tagging along, because why the hell not. With a lot of groaning and complaining, Mikasa put on an actual dress, to go along with his suit, and that alone made the evening worth it, whatever they would be doing. And it wasn’t half bad. The food was great, the decorations were tasteful, and Levi didn’t even look that hostile anymore, actually relaxing for once in his life. When Eren excused himself to the bathroom no one paid him much attention, although the buzz of Mikasa’s phone that followed did lift his eyes from the plate. She frowned, reading the message.

“It’s from school.”, she said, standing up, “I have to make a couple of calls. Be right back.”

Once she got free, however, she walked over to the bathroom instead, meeting Eren who did his best to blend in with the wall.

“What the hell?”, she held her phone up, “Why are you texting me to meet you here? What’s happening?”

Without a word, he took hold of her hand, pulling her along inside, quickly finding an empty stall and locking them in. The beginning of her next question got muffled, because Eren kissed her, pushing her down to sit at the closed toilet. Only when he parted from her lips and kneeled between her legs, she managed to squeeze out a few words.

“W-What? Eren?”

He grinned.

“Payback.”

“You want to have sex in the public bathroom?”, Mikasa could feel her cheeks coloring, “With Levi sitting at the table waiting for us?”

A shake of his head.

“Who said anything about having sex?”

With that, he bunched her dress up her thighs, bending his head to press a kiss to right on her core after. For all her initial hesitation, the heated grind of his mouth on her was more than a compelling argument to change her mind, so instead of talking, she helped him in shimmying her panties down her legs, with Eren holding up the piece after, casting an inspecting eye over it.

“Black lace huh?”, he grinned, seeing her color even further, “Nice underwear Miki.”

Done with his teasing, she pushed his head back down, muffling his laughter by putting her legs on his shoulders while he pocketed the stolen piece of her clothing. Normally, Eren would have no problem with going slow, licking her until she would squirm against him, begging for more friction. But Levi was sitting alone at the table, and there was the small possibility of him wondering where they went for this long and searching for them. Eren did value his life too much for that to happen. So after wetting her with his tongue, he slid in two fingers instead, curling them, searching for and finding the spot inside that made her melt. With her slit occupied, his mouth was free to focus on her clit, feeling the effect he had on her in the pull at his hair, the keening that she muffled by biting down on her forearm, the increasing pressure of her legs around his neck, and of course the way her hips ground into his face, chasing her finish. He gave it to her, making her eyes roll back, crying out, the sound audible even with her efforts to be silent, which were made even vainer by the way he stimulated her through her finish, leaving her body only when she was completely done.

“I’m going out first.”, Eren said, standing up and watching the mess he made of her. Mikasa’s pupils were blown, her breathing uneven, chest heaving. Her legs were still spread, obscenely, and he could see the red marks on her arm, where she bit herself to keep quiet. “Take a minute, fix your dress, and follow me after. If he would see us returning together, your brother might get some ideas.”

He stretched his neck, feeling faint phantom of an ache there. It was clear that he’s going to have some bruises, from the way her thighs pressed into the sides of his head, but those were completely worth it. Bending down, he kissed her hair, quickly exiting the stall and closing after himself, giving her a moment to recover. Only when Mikasa came back to her senses, she realized one thing. That bastard didn’t give her the panties back.

Something sharp dug into Eren’s foot, stopping his trip down the memory lane. It was Mikasa, of course, using the heel of her stiletto to get his attention, in the subtlest way she could think of. Looking up at her face, he got scared for a second, seeing the red spot on the scar, as if it somehow opened and started bleeding again, but his worries got put to rest when he realized that its only ketchup from the fries he was so unjustly robbed of.

“Babe,”, she began, watching him intently while he did his best to clean that jumpscare from her pretty face, “I want ice cream.”

It was late. Well, early, like one or two in the morning, the sky above their heads as dark as it could possibly get. The logical thing would be to just head home and call it a night, not giving in to the random taste craving Mikasa had. But why should Eren ever concern himself with what was logical, when just being with her made him feel so warm inside that the chilly night air didn’t affect him in the slightest. Jumping down from the hood of the car, Eren offered her a hand, although he doubted that she needed it, being as athletic and graceful as she was, but then again, the heels of her shoes were killer ones, and the last thing he wanted was for his angel to trip and fall.

“Then let’s go get some.”

#snk #fanfic #eremika #smut #aot #eren yeager #mikasa ackerman

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