Tag: mshenko

Oh oh oh oh “I hope you know that my name is actually (blank)” for mshenko :D

There are certain things that have to change when one comes back from the dead, Kaidan supposes. At first, it’s all plain as day. The easy smile on the commander’s face is completely absent for months. He favors his right leg every now and then on a mission that requires prolonged use of heavy armor. He doesn’t take the cold as well as he used to.

But the small changes become the new normal for a time. Kaidan gets used to the fact that Shepard stops drinking alcohol because the Cerberus implants flush his system so fast that he can’t enjoy it. The taste “feels wrong,” too. Lots of things do.

Eventually he stops going to the bars, and then going out much all together.

But newer new stuff happens as well. Shepard, so outgoing, so confident, begins to withdraw. He holes up in his cabin for hours. Shoulders tight with tension in the mess when he eats. Fingers clenched until his knuckles are white on the rail in front of the Normandy’s map.

And it dawns on Kaidan through observation that Shepard’s needs elsewhere have also changed. And it’s not as strange or off putting as the major thought it would be.

The first time he gets an inkling of it, it’s the worst possible moment. They’re trapped in a shitty pre-fab Cerberus set up on a no-name moon, on their knees and cuffed. Despite the severity of the situation – literal guns to their heads – Shepard’s shoulders are slumped and he appears more relaxed than he had before his death. Kaidan thinks it’s because he’s not worried. The rest of their team will be able to bail them out soon enough.

But then, it happens again. Combat’s gotten… closer quarters than normal, and Shepard takes a firm fist to his perfect jaw. It flattens him, but instead of being angry, he goes down laughing.

It’s then that Kaidan realizes. Shepard is still capable of relaxing. Letting go. Being happy. But it has to be… in more of a firm way. And preferably when their lives aren’t literally at stake. There are safer ways to do this. Saner.

Kaidan hacks into Shepard’s quarters that very night. Shepard doesn’t look surprised to see him.

“Kaidan,” he says, stepping over in the familiar way they’d had between them for years.

“No,” Kaidan says, holding up a pair of cuffs. “There are things I’ve learned about you. Things I can help with. Things I’ve discovered about myself.”

Catching his meaning, Shepard’s smile spreads as he begins to undress. “About you? What’s that?”

Wolfishly, Kaidan says, “I need you to know that my name is actually sir.”

mshenko trucker AU

jupiterjames:

This one’s for you, joasakura! I really don’t know how to drabble.

“What
the hell?” Kaidan muttered, flashing the high beams on his big rig as he
chugged past a dim sign on the side of the pitch black, two lane highway.
“Where have I ended up?” He’d sort of lost track of time and mileage
about an hour ago watching the scenery outside the truck’s windshield to pass
the time, but it had been a steady nothing of flat land and pine trees.

Keep reading

@ltleflrt : I fucking found it! 😀 I really DID write this!

MShenko, thwarted sandwich AU

“Oh, come ON!” Shepard wants to throttle the asshole at the cafeteria. He knows. He has to KNOW. It’s a thing, and he’s doing it on fucking PURPOSE.

It’s the only thing Shepard looks forward to in his miserable existence of boring classes, thankless internships, endless days. But there’s that sandwich.

It’s God’s gift to food, really. There’s so little in the cafeteria that’s palatable after a grueling day. It’s not bad food, but it’s not the right food. The pasta bakes are just this side of overdone. The pizza is too stringy and the sauce too sweet. The Chinese food is limp and greasy, and the tacos never have enough fillings.

But that fucking sandwich. Shepard’s had it a total of one time. And… it was heaven. Thin sliced turkey, ham, and salami. Sharp Swiss cheese. Crisp lettuce. Juicy tomato. An insanely tangy basil vinegar dressing. All on fresh French bread. They only make a few of them at the cafeteria’s deli every day, and Shepard is thinking of dropping his major just to be able to get one.

He’s thirty seconds too far away for the lunch rush, and there’s this asshole who is thirty seconds closer, who gets the fucking last sandwich every day. For three weeks.

Shepard has never wanted to punch someone right to the back of the head as the dude with the perfect coiffed black hair happily paying for God’s sandwich right this second.

It’s final’s week. He’s going insane. He knows it. He’s got fifty dollars left in his wallet to last him meals for two weeks, and he’s digging it out of his pocket. Before he can stop himself, or even be polite, his hand is on the man’s shoulder, yanking him around.

They both end up completely startled. 

Shepard thinks, this is the hottest asshole I’ve ever seen in my life.

The 30 second thief says, “excuse me?”

“Fifty bucks,” Shepard says.

Beautiful, thick eyebrows raise high into the guy’s hairline. “I haven’t got fifty dollars,” he answers, confused.

Shepard thinks, this is the sexiest voice I’ve ever heard. “You will if you let me have that sandwich. You’ll think I’m crazy, I get that, but I have to have it. It’s the only thing I look forward to, and I haven’t gotten to have one in a month. And it’s finals, and I’m stressed, and just… please.”

Understanding dawns. “Oh, wow. Uh,” the guy says, turning a bit red. “I mean, I guess I know that ‘cause I always get the last one. I’m sorry.”

“Fifty bucks,” Shepard repeats severely.

The guy smiles suddenly, like the sun breaking through the clouds. “How about this? If you wanna come keep me company so I don’t have to eat alone, I’ll share this sandwich for free. Good offer, isn’t it? It’s the best damn sandwich ever made.”

“I know, right?!” Shepard enthuses, feeling lighter than air as he trots after the guy to a free table. “I’ve never had anything like it. Name’s Shepard, by the way.” He holds out his hand.

The angel of mercy sets the tray down on the table and shakes hands. It feels like the calm before the storm. “Alenko. Kaidan Alenko. Nice to meet you.”

Gifts for Shepard

Short drabbles for how all of my Ianto’s celebrate their birthdays. Shepard!Ianto, WWII!Ianto, TWGaM!Ianto

*     *     *

April 11, 2189

“Happy Birthday, Shepard.”

Ianto looks up from his datapad, glasses slipping low on his nose. “Is it that time of year already?”

Kaidan chuckles, sitting down beside him. “Yes. Brought you a gift. It’s contraband.” He holds out a bottle of rare Earth whiskey.

Whistling low, Ianto takes the clear bottle filled with amber liquid and holds it like breathing wrong might break it. “Where’d you find this?”

Kaidan shrugs with practiced casualness. “Best not to ask.”

It’s things like that that make Ianto wonder from time to time exactly who Kaidan dealt with in Spec Ops. He never asks, though. He likes the mystery. He turns the bottle over in his hands, studying the label. “Wow, it’s from the year I was born.”

“Forget it. I won’t tell you how much it cost,” Kaidan grins.

“In credits, or favors?”

“Both,” he answers airily.

“You’re a dangerous man, Kaidan Alenko,” Shepard says, not taking his eyes off the precious gift.

“We can’t all be famous like Commander Shepard, but some of us can be just as infamous.”

Shepard laughs and places the bottle gently on the table to free his hands for dragging Kaidan against him for a long, leisurely kiss. “I hope you keep surprising me for the rest of my life,” he murmurs.

Kaidan’s smile turns a little wistful as he traces over the well-learned scars on Ianto’s face, white and firm and stark against his tawny skin, no longer glowing with cybernetics. “I did promise you something like that.”

“Me, too,” Shepard answers, leaning forward for another kiss. “Thank you, Kaidan.”

This time Kaidan is the one to push, laying Ianto on his back. He boxes the commander in, filling his vision. “Many happy returns,” he says, pressing in for a proper celebration.

*     *     *

April 11, 2016

“Today is the special day.”

Ianto groans and rolls onto his back, carrying the comforter with him and not even opening his eyes. “No, it’s not,” he says, voice sleep-rough. “It’s Monday. Monday’s are never special.” A large weight drops onto his chest suddenly, making him grunt in surprise. He cracks one green eye open to see his cat on his chest, blinking languidly at him, and Vanya crouched over his knees, blinking seriously at him.

“Elvis wants you to wake up,” Vanya says.

Elvis wants no such thing. The hefty animal stretches down with a yawn and settles into a loaf on his chest, eyes closing. Ianto worms an arm out from under the sheets to scratch the cat’s head until it purrs loudly and contentedly. “The Russian is a liar,” Ianto coos at the cat.

“You will just sleep this best day away?” Vanya demands, thick eyebrow arched.

“Why not?” Ianto yawns. “This is the thirtieth time I’ve had a birthday. No reason to go crazy on all of them.” He says it because he knows how Vanya is. The Russian goes a little nuts on holiday; every one equally important to him. It’s fun to tease him about it, especially after the New Year’s celebration they’d had that had almost burned the house down.

Vanya’s scowl deepens and there’s something dangerous in his gray eyes when he says, “if you are not to get up, I will make you breakfast.”

Ianto scrambles up to his elbows, Elvis slipping down to his lap with the comforter and not caring at all. “You wouldn’t dare,” he challenges.

From behind his back, Vanya pulls out a spatula. “Eggs sound delicious,” he says threateningly.

“No.” Ianto’s eyes narrow. “The last time you tried it…”

Vanya nods. “The house smelled like burning for a week.”

They stare in a silent battle of wills for nearly a full minute. Ianto can’t challenge the Russian like this. He never wins. Ever. Vanya can’t back down no matter what. Not even on his drunk-married-husband’s 30th birthday. “You win, Огонь,” Ianto finally says.

Vanya grins widely. “I know this.” He climbs out of the bed, twirling the spatula like he used to with his gun. “Don’t worry, ‘Yanto. When you finish with food, I will bring you back to bed for dessert.”

“Can’t argue with that,” Ianto agrees, moving Elvis to Vanya’s pillow and shoving back the covers. “Happy Birthday to me.”

*     *     *

April 11, 1944

“Heard it was your birthday today,” Kaidan says to break the silence as he and Ianto huddle together near a small fire on the beach to ward off the evening chill.

“Huh,” Ianto answers, sitting back on his hands in the cool sand. “Is it?”

Kaidan holds up a finger in a waiting gesture and keeps his eyes on his watch. He’s quiet for several seconds and then smiles triumphantly. “It is now. Happy Birthday, Shepard.”

Ianto laughs quietly. “Another year gone. I’m not sure I knew it was even April.” He looks out over the black ocean. “Hell of a time.”

“Guess we should mark the occasion. I got you something.” Kaidan digs in his pack and holds out an apple. “Best I could do.”

Ianto’s eyes widen. He reaches out slowly and curls his fingers around the shiny red fruit. For a moment he’s clenching Kaidan’s cold fingers as well, though they draw back fast. “How in the world?”

“Got it the other day,” Kaidan answers. “I know you like them, so I figured I’d hold on to it.”

He does like them. Loves them. Apples are the only thing he sees, smells, tastes, that can actually take him back home to Nebraska for a minute or two. He misses it so much it makes him ache. “I’ve got ten apple trees back home,” he says softly, bringing the apple to his nose and drawing in the sweet scent deeply through his nose.

“Ah,” Kaidan says, understanding dawning on his face. “It’s your reminder of home.”

“Yes.” He’s not watching the ocean anymore. And for once Kaidan isn’t avoiding his gaze. “Maybe when this is all over, you can come and visit. I’ll teach you how to make real cider. And apple pie.”

Kaidan smile is small and genuine. “I’d like that.”

They’re simple words that have a huge meaning neither one of them can fully understand yet. But it feels good, like biting into the apple. Familiar and comfortable. He likes it. “You ever been to Omaha?”

“No,” Kaidan answers. “I’ve been to California and Hawaii. That’s about it.”

“You’ll love it,” Ianto answers, turning back to the water. “It’s the good kind of quiet where I live.”

“Yeah,” Kaidan agrees, soft voice carried away by the breeze. “I’m sure I will love it.”

14 and/or 32, if you’re still taking prompts? I have a weakness for mShenko, any universe.

This is the last one. And you know something? I’m combining the numbers. I think I’ve been really nice and fluffy to y’all up until this point, haven’t I? Now I need to give up with true JJ style. Mild NSFW smut and angst.

#14&#32: (A whisper in the ear & In a way I can’t return)


Sometimes Kaidan worries that he says it so much, it might lose its meaning. Not to him – never to him – but maybe to Shepard hearing it too many times. He just can’t help it, though. There have already been too many times where it could be the last, that he has to say at every appropriate moment.

Before missions, after them when they’re bad, in the morning, last thing at night. Over coffee sometimes is nice. Sitting with their feet kicked up on the coffee table in the Captain’s Cabin, watching the fish.

“I love you, Shepard,” he says.

Shepard takes his hand and pulls him closer. “Love you, too.”

There’s always weight and meaning behind it, so he knows it still packs a punch. Maybe he’s just being foolish thinking it won’t. It’s not often enough that it actually starts to sound like gibberish, like when he repeats the same word over and over and over and over just to find out how strange it sounds when it becomes nothing but a jumble of consonants and vowels.

His favorite is always when they’re skin on skin, all barriers down. Shepard moves against him, slick sweat and the intermittent crackle of biotics between them. Fingers entwined, bodies entwined, not a centimeter separating them, spiking the pleasure higher and more frantic. Shepard presses warm lips against Kaidan’s damp temple. Whispers, “I love you,” into the shell of Kaidan’s ear with such force he might as well have been screaming it, right before he comes.

It’s always something. It’s always everything, and there’s nothing to take it away ever. No way for it to not be returned. Kaidan’s learning that slowly but surely. He’s positive that it will always be there when they land in London, but it scares him all the same.

He won’t – he can’t – say it here in the eye of the hurricane. It would be an excuse or a reason for Shepard to do something reckless and stupid. He’s too fond of saying it right before taking on a thresher maw or a reaper on foot. Kaidan’s relief is a physical thing when they part at the checkpoint, deep kiss and a press of their foreheads together. Shepard doesn’t say it, he doesn’t say it, and Kaidan is beyond thankful. It means they still have a chance.

Then there’s the second he knows, deep in every fiber of his being, Shepard is going to say it. It hits him just as hard as the blast from the Mako that leaves him breathless and bleeding. He can see it in Shepard’s eyes as he hustles them to the Normandy.

He really does try his best to stop it. “Don’t leave me behind,” he says, though he already knows what’s next.

“No matter what happens, know that I love you. Always.”

I can’t. “I love you, too.”

Since he said it back, maybe this will just be something to yell at Shepard about later. When it’s over. When they’re patching themselves up and watching the fish with their feet kicked up on the coffee table in the Captain’s Cabin. Later. Later, later, later. Shepard’s saying his I’m-about-to-do-something-stupid “I love you” that’s always been fine. Just a few hours of anxiety for Kaidan.

He’s gone in the beam and Kaidan is choking on his I love you. It feels like hours. When his comm goes active again, he’s in the medbay with Chakwas cleaning him up.

He hears Shepard. He hears the tone in his voice. It’s almost all static over the private line. “Kaidan. I love you.”

The line is dead. Kaidan can’t say it back. He can’t return it this time.

Are you still taking prompts? How about 13 or 3 for the ilu meme?

Made fresh to order! #13. (In a letter)

From this list of I love you prompts.

It started when Shepard said he had a “covert supply run” to attend to on an extended stay on the Citadel. Kaidan hadn’t really questioned it, figuring it was Garrus looking for one of his only-marginally-legal sniper rifle upgrades, or some weird armor plating that wasn’t commonly used. But whatever it was, Shepard hadn’t found it. He’d returned to the Normandy with a grouchy expression, retreated to his cabin, and proceeded to make a dozen calls and send even more messages completely encrypted so that even Samantha Traynor couldn’t tell what it was about.

Kaidan knew it didn’t have anything to do with his former ties to Cerberus, or any gangs or seedy operations. Whatever it was didn’t worry Shepard or piss him off, or change any of the crew’s missions. It was just a thing of curiosity that Kaidan wondered about and then forgot about, especially after the war really reached a head.

Then, one morning, Kaidan looked up from his spot at the mess hall table where he’d been sipping his coffee before his shift, and saw Shepard saunter in looking pleased as punch. “Something good happen?” he couldn’t help asking.

“The best,” Shepard winked, pouring his own mug and leaving it all at that.

After that, Kaidan finds the oddest things everywhere. First in his armor locker stuck to his chest plate. A small square of yellow paper with an adhesive strip on the back. The note says, “fixed the cooling problem – IMS.”

Later, there’s one on the mirror in the cabin. “Found that toothpaste you prefer – IMS.”

There are more and more. “Be safe on the patrol today. – IMS.”

“Thanks for feeding the fish – IMS.”

“Recorded the show you missed on the cabin’s vidscreen – IMS.”

“Missed you at mess – IMS.”

“Your mom is texting me every 5 min. Please call her – IMS.”

Dozens. Just appearing. He never sees Shepard putting them up. He never even reacts when he finds one taken down. Kaidan saves all of them. It goes on for weeks, until one morning Kaidan wakes up to his alarm and finds one on Shepard’s pillow. It says, “I love you – Ianto.” No more follow after that.

Kaidan finds Shepard in the empty equipment bay after a week of meaning to ask about the letters, but only ever seeing the commander enough to say good night and fall asleep almost before their heads hit the pillow.

Shepard’s there now, though, taking apart his assault rifle, and for once not looking too busy to blink.

“Ianto,” Kaidan says.

He looks up smiling. “Hey.”

Kaidan holds up the stack of notes he keeps either in his bedside table or tucked into his pocket behind his chest plate for good luck.

Ianto scratches the back of his neck. “I ran out of sticky notes,” he says somewhat sadly. “Took me a month just to get that one stack and a pen. I forgot how hard it was to find actual paper and pens these days.”

Kaidan smiles. “That’s what all this was about?”

“Well… yeah. Wanted to… y’know, do something nice. We haven’t spent much time together lately, and I missed you, so…” he trails off.

Kaidan pushes the crates back that he’d been using as a makeshift table and sits himself right in Shepard’s lap. The kiss is long overdue. “I love you, too,” he says.

Shepard beams. “Then it’s all worth it.”

Oh wait, someone already asked you to write number 6. Well, if you don’t want to write that one how about 9 or 12 for shenko? I’m not picky about Shepard’s gender, I just really like fluff honestly and I think this fandom could use more of it.

I messed up posting this before! This one was for you!  12. When we lay together on the fresh spring grass

From these I love you prompts!

“When’s the next forecasted rain?” Shepard asks while Kaidan flips through the channels available of the vid screen. He’s sort of glad that Earth hasn’t recovered enough yet to have a thousand stations again. There’s local news, a few cartoons, a movie channel. Those are the only things worth seeing. Of course, Shepard only likes watching the movies he’s already seen before. It frustrates him to only be able to listen. It still might take another year before the implants in his eyes are ready to be repaired. Waiting, surgery, recovery, hope, waiting. Over and over.

“Today,” Kaidan answers as the news station flashes the ten day forecast on the screen.

“What are the chances?”

Kaidan smiles. “Actually? Pretty good this time.”

The weather’s been fucked since the sky was ripped apart. It had taken ages for the atmosphere to be repaired. And even here in the Middle of Nowhere, Canada, the rains had been dirty. Always warnings about air quality and staying indoors until it had ended. Though the last time there’d been a true downpour, it had lasted long enough that it hadn’t been dangerously dirty. After that, they’d only had a spring shower or two since then, nothing lasting more than ten minutes at best.

“What was the last report?”

“Tolerable. Only a moderate warning for brief exposure.”

The downpour starts while they’re eating lunch. Shepard hears it before it’s even worked up too much. Kaidan can tell the change because he straightens his shoulders and tilts his head towards the windows. “Promising,” he says.

Kaidan smiles and is just happy that they can eat salads again. “I’ll turn the news on.” He shifts and Shepard catches his hand.

“No, I like hearing the rain.”

It lasts for nearly three hours. Kaidan keeps track of the pollution level on his omni-tool. For the last half-hour, it’s clean. “We can go outside if you want,” he says.

Shepard stands and holds out his hand. Kaidan takes them out the back porch door and into the grass. The rain is starting to calm, the sky actually turning blue as the sun starts to come out. Shepard is smiling, turning his face up towards it. “Ah, the rewards of winning the war,” he grins.

“Only took three years.”

Shepard sits down on the soaked lawn, flops onto his back with a pleased sigh. Kaidan joins him a moment later.  "It’s May, isn’t it?“

"Yes,” Kaidan confirms. “It’s finally getting warm.”

“You still love me the same, right?”

Kaidan takes his hand. “No. You know it’s more.”

“I know. But I can only hear it now.”