#nah. it's not that deep. i just did quick photo studies based on photos of laughing men. and decided they should all be Teddy

[jerrythebug]

When you think of me remember to smile

[dirtyoatmeall]

Bokuto’s Cool Sister (Tsukishima Kei x Reader)

A/N: Here is an actual fic! I have a list of shit to write I’m slowly working through, next will either be more head canons or a one shot. I’m re-watching AOT rn to get caught up with the new season so sorry about being absent! Luv u guys a lot

Pairing: Tsukishima x Bokuto sibling reader (No pronouns or gendered language used toward reader, not referred to as sister just used for title purposes), Bokuto x Akaashi, Kenma x Kuroo

Word Count: 2k! (longest ever!)

Warnings: Mentions of underage drinking (everyone at least 20), mentions of secs

~~~

You groaned as you neared the door to your apartment, seeing that the door was not cracked open a little for you to nudge open like you had asked your brother to do as you pulled into the complex. You remember him vaguely mentioning friends coming over, and you can hear music faintly coming from the apartment, but he always checks his phone, especially when you're coming from the store. 

You try to balance the milk on your knee to open the door, and just as you think you have it, the door doesn’t budge. You close your eyes and take a deep breath. Your brother never locks the doors, why would he now? His car is in the parking lot and you can hear noise inside, so he’s home. Instead of putting groceries on the ground and fishing your keys out of your purse like a normal person, you make the decision to kick the door, not very hard, but hard enough to be heard in the apartment. 

“Kou! Why is the door locked? Will you come open it for me, I have groceries!” You can hear your brother tumbling towards the door, apologies flying out of his mouth a mile a minute. The door swings open, revealing your brother, grimace on his face. “Sorry! I totally forgot you were at the store, I think ‘Kaashi might’ve locked it.” You sighed, not being able to stay mad at your brother’s friend. 

You walk in, jerking your head in the general direction of the parking lot, “I have some more in my car, can you go grab it?” He nods, grabbing his key ring and jogging out. Both of you had the spare key to each other’s cars, which turned out to be more convenient then you originally thought. 

You move toward the kitchen, yelling out a greeting to your brother’s boyfriend. “Akaashi! Next time you come over to fuck my brother let me know before so I can have my keys out, or just leave the door unlocked and go in his room!” You had a joking, yet scolding tone of voice, imagining his flustered state at your words. What you did not expect, was a hyena-like laugh to come from the direction of the living room. You were almost positive your brother said Akaashi was here. 

You place the groceries on the counter and make your way to the living room, freezing in the doorway. Akaashi was there, but so were 3 other people. Akaashi was red, shaking his head that was resting in his palms. There was someone playing on a gaming console on the couch who had their legs thrown over the lap of the laughing one, and one on the other couch, tall and blonde, who looked weirdly familiar, who had a faint smirk on their face. You grimace, you didn’t realize your brother had actual friends over, he usually just meant Akaashi or the occasionally Hinata. “Oops sorry ‘Kaashi, didn't know Kou was having other people over.”

He lifted his head, face still slightly flushed and smiled. “It’s fine (Y/N)-san, do you need help with the groceries?” You shook your head, pointing behind you in the direction of the kitchen, where you could hear your brother rummaging around. “Nah, I made Koutaro get the rest. If you guys are staying for dinner let me know and I’ll make something instead of making him go to the food truck for me. By the way, who are the rest of you? I literally thought Kou was lying about having friends.” 

The blonde one snorted, you narrowed your eyes slightly, he looked so familiar, you just couldn’t quite place it. The one playing the console seemed familiar too, you think you might’ve seen him on Twitter. The only one you didn’t recognize was the first to speak. “I’m Kuroo Tetsuro, we all played volleyball together in high school, I’m surprised he hasn’t talked about us before.” 

You nod in understanding, “Oh so that’s where. I’m sure he has, I just probably wasn’t paying attention to what he was saying. I mean you guys seem kinda familiar, more the other two than you, were you like benched a lot?” The quiet one next to him looks up to see his reaction and snorts at the disbelief on Kuroo’s face. “Yeah, Kuro wasn’t very good.” The half blonde says, giggling softly as Kuroo gasps and yells at him. “Kenma!” He turns to you, “I was the captain and a very good player actually.” You laugh as Kenma behind him makes a face that says ‘That’s what you think.’ Before Kuroo could whine some more, Akaashi speaks.

“Kenma-san is a YouTuber, which is probably where you’ve seen him. He and Kuroo-san played for Nekoma, I’m surprised you didn’t remember them from that, you remembered Lev-san.” Kenma actually laughs at that, and Kuroo is pouting as Akaashi continues, a cheeky smile on his face that told you he purposefully sprinkled that last little tidbit in. 

“Tsukishima-san, aren’t you a museum-studies major?” The blonde on the loveseat across from the other three nods, and you snap your fingers, finally realizing where you know him from. “Oh, that makes sense! I think we’ve had a class or two together. I’m an archaeology major.” Tsukishima’s eyebrows raise in surprise, but before he could speak, your brother finally comes in from the kitchen.

“(Y/NNNNN), I put everything away, we were going to go to Onigiri Miya tonight, wanna come?” You nod and swat at his had when he ruffles your hair before plopping down to his boyfriend. You go to leave your brother and his friends, taking one last glance at Tsukishima, who seemed to have the same idea, he averted his eyes the moment yours met, and you smirked to yourself on the way to the kitchen to re-put away the groceries. You loved your brother, but he definitely did not know where to put things, your thought validified as you pull the eggs from the pantry, switching it with the instant ramen packets in the fridge. Good thing he was a great volleyball player. ` Later that night, you join the boys for dinner at Onigiri Miya. You take two separate cars, you driving your brother and Akaashi and Kuroo driving Kenma and Tsukishima. Kuroo made a joke about racing there, which you took as a personal challenge, much to the dismay of Akaashi. You would’ve won too, but you had to pull over to kick Koutaro in the backseat for playing Nickelback. He buys your food as an apology, and Kuroo’s food because he won (you venomed him later for your share of food, which he promptly venomed back to you with angry faces in the description.). The 6 of you sat in a corner booth, you were sandwiched between Akaashi and Tsukkishima with Kuroo between your brother and Kenma on the other side.

The table was loud with jokes, laughing, and yelling as everyone ate their meals. You snuck drinks of ‘Akaashi’s’ margarita when the waitress wasn’t looking (You were 20 and Akaashi submits to peer pressure from you easily). “(Y/N), are you not 21 yet?” Kuroo asked as he watched you nudge the drink toward Akaashi as the waitress talked to the other table. You turned to Kuroo, cheeks just barely flushed. “Hm? Oh no I’m not, I’m two years younger than you guys, I turn 21 in a few months.” 

Kuroo hummed in understanding and got a suspiciously mischievous look on his face. “Oh, you’re the same age as Tsukkishima, and you guys have similar majors, how interesting” Your eyebrows furrow and you snort. “So do over a thousand other people Kuroo, its not a super niche subject.” You turn to Tsukkishima and continue, “Hm I didn’t realize we were in the same year, I thought you were older, must be your grumpy grandpa like disposition.” Akaashi explained what disposition meant to your brother and Kuroo snickered before he was shut down by Kenma, who has been doing an excellent job of roasting Kuroo at every chance he gets. “You laugh like everyone doesn’t call you old man behind your back.” 

You laughed for the umpth time that night, Tsukishima watching you, he could really see the sibling resemblance when you laughed. You throw your head back and laugh loudly, from your gut much like your brother. Tsukishima looks away from you, catching Kuroos eye in the process, the blonde rolls his eyes at the smirk on Kuroos face. Out of the 5 of them, he was the only one not in a relationship and Kuroo has been trying to set him up since Bokuto and Akaashi finally got together at Akaashi’s graduation. 

Tsukishima looks at you again, watching you take a sip of the margarita, and subsequently watches it almost come out of your nose as you laugh at something Akaashi said to Bokuto, clutching the former's shoulder, hand over your nose. There was no doubt that you were pretty, and you did have similar interests. His thoughts were interrupted by you turning to him, knee-knocking against his thigh. “Have you taken Anth 267?” He nods “I took it last quarter.” He replies and watches you sigh in relief. “Oh thank god, I’m having trouble meeting her insane essay expectations. I usually have ‘Kaashi read through mine but would it be ok if I sent them to you? Or at least bounced topics off you?” When he agrees you smile, unlocking your phone and sliding it towards him, a new contact open. “Oh great, here, why don’t you put your number in?” As he fills it out, his eyes involuntarily flit to the text message appearing at the top of your screen. From: That Sunny Bitch

Ew you think Tsukki’s hot? He’s a good volleyball player but he was a meanie in high school 😝

He held back the urge to smirk. That must be Hinata based on the name. He quickly finished the contact and gave your phone back before giving his to you, and you quickly typed in your contact info, as well as snapping a quick contact photo. It was super close to your face with your tongue out, a good tell of your personality. You give his phone back and the two of you talk more about school and classes before everyone gets ready to leave. 

Your brother stands up first, and you take advantage of his large frame and chug the rest of the margarita down, smiling big at Akaashi who chastises you about drinking it so fast. You all wave to Osamu as you leave, and before Tsukishima can get to Kuroo’s car, he turns to the group, smirking. “I've got to run Kenma by our apartment to grab his charger, we’ll meet you guys.” You nod, handing your keys to Akaashi and turn to Tsukishima. “You can sit in the back with me Tsukishima!” Though you might be promoted to passenger if Bokuto makes bad music choices again.” You glare at your brother as you finish the sentence, and he whines about how his taste ‘isn’t that bad!’ 

The car ride back to your apartment is short, and you spend it chatting with Tsukki, as you’re now allowed to call him, and you spend the rest of the night with the boys, playing games and watching movies until early morning. Kuroo and Kenma leave first, and Kenma made your night when he looked you in the eye and said goodbye. Tsukki left about an hour later, his roommate picked him up. Akaashi ended up staying over, and you were glad your bedroom was on the other side of the apartment from your brother’s. You fell into bed content with the day, happy you were able to meet your brother’s friends.

You awoke mid-day, and you browsed your notifications before dropping your phone on your bed when you read one text message, heat spreading over your cheeks. You definitely do not remember changing his contact name.

From: Hot classmate Tsukki

Hey, how about we go over your essay over some coffee tonight?

[darker-soft-starker]

Starker High School AU, Pt. 2 (Pt. 1, Pt. 3, Pt. 4, Pt. 5)

-----

Peter will admit that during he took an extended moment during his journey home to grieve the loss of his free afternoon, and indeed the impending headaches.

And the rest of his future, if he was honest.

Not that Peter was prone to melancholy by any means, but with this assignment his fate was officially sealed, there was no misunderstanding. He was going to fail this assignment. He was going to, for the first time in his academic career, be forced to submit garbage of a caliber worthy of Tony Stark. It will forever be a black mark on his academic record.

No respectable college is going to accept him after this. In fact, he might as well drop out of school now and hit up Mr Delmar for a job. All of his prep for his MIT application is as good as useless after this. Extracurriculars? Goodbye.

Because it’s confirmed.

He’s doomed.

Swaying with the motions of the train, Peter types a text to Ned, the only person who might provide him with some much needed sympathy.

>  I’m doomed >  paired w/stark for an assignment lollllllllll.  >  help

Maybe Peter could trade with Ned. Maybe he could plead with their teacher, for honest fear of his life and scholastic integrity. He wasn’t even exaggerating. In no known iteration of this universe could Peter amicably work with Tony Stark. It would be like Harry Potter sitting down for tea with Voldemort, or Frodo and Sauron chilling with a pint and a pipe in Bag End. 

It was unthinkable. Implausible. Laughable.

And Peter would laugh, were it anyone but him in this situation.

The feeling is unusual. Never had he found reason in his life to truly dislike anybody before, everyone could be redeemed or given the opportunity for penance. Natasha has said more than once that Peter would offer the devil himself a sandwich if he appeared. 

Tony Stark on the other hand? No sandwich for him.

Well, maybe a slice of bread. A stale one.

While he waits for Ned to responds he catches sight of his injured reflection in the train window, which is admittedly pretty gnarly. Even with his hood drawn up, there was a noticeable berth allocated to him in the busy carriage between himself and the other passengers.

< sux. can I have ur lego hogwarts if u die?

> dude :( pity me.

< lol. so, can i?

Peter sighs.

> sure. Look after May for me, bro. delete my internet history.

< deal. godspeed

Pocketing his phone, Peter wonders if it’s too late to take up praying.

---

By the time he’s back in his apartment his mood has managed to swing back up.

Tony Stark is not going to be the arbiter of Peter’s fate. Hell no. He’s smart, he’s creative and hardworking - it isn’t up to anybody but Peter to determine his outcomes. If he has to do the assignment with Stark then he will. And he will work his hardest. 

If he has to do it sharing the credit with Stark, well, Peter knows a concession when he sees one.

No matter how reluctant he is.

But he powers through it, like ripping off a bandaid. It’s fine! He’s a Parker and he’s come this far in life already against ill, Parker-like odds. What was being paired for one assignment with someone who escaped the nearest hellmouth? 

It’ll be fine. 

Probably.

Not letting himself linger on his fears, Peter clears out his previous plans of going on a YouTube spiral and eating sour gummies until his teeth stick, instead utilising the time to get his foot in and and begins prepping for the assignment. Cursory, preliminary research at first, before the inevitable deep dive begins.

Neanderthal, Peter scoffs, mad all over again. Who is Stark to call Peter a neanderthal? He’s second in his class. He’s a straight A student. He likes school.

And as much as he is moderately skilled in, and enjoys JV, it’s not like he received his scholarship to study at Midtown based on his physical prowess.

The graze on his cheek that stings every time he yawns is proof of that.

Stark can eat his entire ass and choke on it, he thinks darkly, as he continues his research. He doesn’t know the first thing about Peter.

The data is sobering as he delves into job listings and statistics of his projected salary in a three year margin. This is really what his teachers earn? Wow. Depressing.

The contrast of expected salary versus the forecast of steep student loans is disheartening further still.

Teaching quietly slips from second to third on his list of ideal occupations.

Turning on a playlist on his phone, Peter continues to compile notes, amassing a truly gargantuan amount of tabs on his browser. His computer, old enough to be on its’ last teeth, whirrs loudly in protest.

It’s not until his room goes dark that he thinks to check the time.

Ah, shit. It’s nearly six.

Peter pauses. Should he tidy up the apartment?

...Nah, no point in breaking a sweat for Stark.

He continues typing. Then he hesitates, fingers suspended in mid-air. 

But what if Stark sees his unfolded laundry out on the dining table and publicly shames him for his old-but-comfortable Bulbasaur themed boxer shorts?

Goddamnit.

---

A quick, cursory clean ensues and leaves a relatively orderly Parker apartment. No freshly laundered underwear is in sight.

Peter wraps up just a few minutes before six. Right on time.

Taking a seat at the now clear dining table Peter drums his fingers on the surface and waits.

And waits.

And waits.

---

He knows when Tony finally arrives when he hears the sound of a car pulling up outside his apartment block. The riffs of a Roxette remix can be heard playing loudly  from the ground to the seventh floor of his apartment, the bass so thunderous it reverberates the windows all the way up to his floor.

Drumming his fingers on the kitchen table, Peter checks the wall clock again. It’s nearly seven.

Tony’s late.

Not that Peter is particularly affected with surprise that Tony is incapable of following basic instructions, but still. Really? Really?

By the time there is a knock on his door, Peter is already before it, his arms crossed over his chest and a scowl on his face. Every second between Tony pulling up and his ascent to Peter’s floor has him positively fuming. He can’t believe how this day played out. It started with such promise. He had such innocuous, but high hopes.

Clearly, he miscalculated.

Feeling a touch petty, he waits to answer, listening to Stark knock a second and then a third, more insistent time before he rouses enough calm to open the door.

He instantly regrets it when he does. 

Tony’s expression is curious one as he breezes right passed Peter without waiting for further invitation. There’s a smudge of something dark on his brow, his otherwise white undershirt smeared in dark stains.

Peter watches incredulously as the other boy drops his backpack by the door with a thump.

“You’re late.”

He closes the door behind Tony and scowls at the other boys easy posture, hands shoved into his pockets, eyes taking in the apartment.

“I didn’t realise you lived all the way out in fucking Queens. Do you have any idea how bad traffic is at this time of day? Also, your elevator doesn’t work. I just climbed seven flights of stairs, where’s the hospitality?”

“Try earning it.”

The other boy rolls his eyes. “Like it’s worth my time.” He breezes past Peter and slides his leather jacket off his arms, tossing it atop of his backpack in the corner. “Look, I’m here now. Okay? You can unclench now. So, do I get a tour or what?”

“Or what. This wouldn’t have been an issue if we had just started straight after class like I said.”

“Oh I’m sorry,” Tony clutches his hands to his heart before gesturing to the room. “I didn’t realise I was interrupting your busy Friday night, Parker. You got a keg and the rest of the meatheads stashed away somewhere?”

Without waiting for a response, Tony wanders around the living room like a curious child in a new play room. His gaze inspects everything all at once, from peering at up close at the wall mounted photos and hovering his grubby hands over the oddments and knick-knacks speckled throughout the space.

Apprehensive, Peter can’t help but shadow him, afraid he just let loose a hurricane in a china shop.

Without asking, Tony picks up May’s old Magic 8-Ball and gives it a good shake. Peter’s fingers itch to reach over and stop him, but stops himself because then that would require actually making direct skin contact the other boy.

Not worth it.

“Cannot predict now. Huh,” Tony says to himself before placing the ball back in the wrong spot. 

They both watch silently as it rolls precariously close to the edge. 

“Anyways,” Tony helps himself to an armchair, lounging back and spreading his legs wide. “I know your long-term memory is probably as defective as the rest of you, so don’t strain yourself recalling that I had other priorities.”

“Like what?”

“Like literally anything that isn’t being around you,” the other boy grins. “Now, are we doing this thing, or did you invite me over so you could bitch at me?”

“I didn’t invite you,” Peter grumbles, swiping his notebook from the dining table before sitting on the sofa, as far away from Stark as possible. Shifting, he takes his phone from his pocket and opens the notes he’d taken earlier.

“So, I cross referenced some websites and current job listings,” Peter scrolls through his research, adjusting his glasses as they slip down his nose. “Assuming you have no savings, we’re looking at an average of sixty-thousand per annum based on my salary alone. The average rent in --”

“-- Uh, why are we assuming I have no savings?”

"Because... we’re being realistic?”

Tony springs to his feet and paces across the living room.

“Well,” he says, gesturing to Peter, “if we’re being realistic, does having no savings also that mean I have no debt -- or are you paying off two student loans on your salary?”

“I don’t --”

“Do we have car loans? Health insurance?”

“Wait, slow your roll, Stark. I haven’t yet --”

“-- Of course you haven’t. I mean really, Parker, do you ever think ahead? You should try it, we do have a baby on the way, you know.” Tony clicks his fingers and points at Peter. “Oh, names! I want to call it Molly.”

“As in the drug?” 

“No, as in Ringwald. Anyhoo, seeing as only one of us has the intellectual capacity to construct a budget,” Tony gestures to himself, “that would be me, consider maybe that I spent my savings paying off my student loans and bought a car for me and Miss Molly, leaving you with just your own stagnant debt. Happy?”

“Thrilled,” he says through clenched teeth, feeling utterly steamrolled. “But we’re not calling the baby Molly.”

“Yes, we are. Think of all the great nicknames. Hey wait,” Tony pauses in his pacing, “are your parents going to be home soon?”

It was in that moment Peters world narrows down to one, botched cosmic joke.

Turning his gaze heavenwards, Peter prays silently for mercy. What did he do to deserve this. This is all his bad karma come at once. This is the bad place.

“Ah, no,” he replies, eyes widening. “No, my parents are not going to be home soon.”

“Cool. Lucky you.”

Oblivious to Peter’s existential turmoil, Tony resumes his patrol through the living room, picking up a frame on the mantle. It houses an old photo of Ben, May and a young, bespectacled Peter. 

It is one of the more embarrassing immortalisations of his younger self, eleven-years old and grinning widely, bearing his silver braces to the camera as he holds up a science fair trophy, curls wild and untamed.

Oh god. That was exactly what Peter needed on this unholy day - Tony Stark in his living room, witnessing Peter in his prepubescent glory. 

Quick, create a diversion.

“So, as I was saying,” he says loudly, “rent is reasonably affordable with a sixty-thousand budget in --”

“Who’s the babe?” Tony points to a younger Aunt May in the photo.

Peter gets to his feet and removes the frame from Tony’s grasp. He glowers as he places it back on the mantle. 

“No one you would have a chance with. Can you stay focused? Like, are you physically capable of it?”

“Okay, calm down,” Tony holds his hands up in surrender. “You’ve got a lot of anger for someone so vertically challenged, you know that, shortstack?” 

“Focus, dumbass.”

“I’m focused! Let’s see, we’ve established that I am excellent at managing my money. You have a shitty job and a shitty salary, and apparently my imaginary future self has terrible taste in men. So. Have I got that right? Where are we living?”

“Queens. LIC has some one bed, one baths that could be affordable.”

“Uh, rewind. Going to have to eighty-six that - I am not living in Queens.”

Peter stares at him.

Tony rubs his hands over his face and sighs. “Fine, whatever. But I want a Pontiac Firebird in this imaginary life if I have to deal with you.”

“For someone so keen on getting away you’re doing your best to prolong this experience. It’s literally painful.”

“Well, I just like to see you get all riled up, Princess,” Tony grins, leaning back against the mantle and folding his arms over his chest. “You have this vein that bulges on your forehead when you’re mad. Makes you look like a pitbull.”

Peter swallows the particularly acidic retort sitting on his tongue and tries not to let Tony’s words sting. Be the bigger man, Ben used to say. As difficult as it is to channel even a modicum of the mans’ eternal patience, Peter takes a deep breath and reminds himself to stay focused. The less he gets sidetracked by Tony’s fuckery, the sooner it’s over.

He mentions the next part with unease. 

“...Miss Ahn said that we need references and should do field research. Speak to realtors. Ask people who have a similar lifestyle and budget.”

The look that comes over the other boys face is one of unequivocal revulsion. Peter can relate. The thought of having to spend more time with this guy makes his stomach turn.

“Well, Parker, any bright ideas who we can ask?”

The hinges of the front door squeaks before Peter can respond.

Moments after, Aunt May walks into the living room, placing her bag down on the dining table. She looks between the two boys curiously.

“Hey, Pete,” she comes to his side to squeezes his shoulder. “Who do we have here?”

Tony rushes over with his hand outstretched, an eager grin on his face. 

“Tony Stark, ma’am. It’s a pleasure to meet you.”

“Oh, ah, okay, well,” May laughs as he enthusiastically shakes her hand. Her eyes are soft as Tony smiles brightly at her. “Nice to meet you too, Tony. I’m May, Peter’s aunt. Are you... friends with Peter?”

Peter snorts. 

“Definitely not. We just have an assignment --”

“-- Great friends, actually,” Tony talks over him, taking a seat beside Peter on the sofa. To Peter’s utter disgust, the other boy puts an arm around his shoulders, squeezing his bicep encouragingly. “Aren’t we, Pete? Hmm? Best buds. We go way back.”

Peter freezes, feeling the line of heat from Tony’s against his side, the weight of his arm on his body. 

Eyes widening, he feels his skin crawl. 

“That’s sweet,” May smiles, putting her hair up in a loose, messy bun. “Well, I don’t know about you boys, but I’m starving. I’m ordering pizza, Friday special. You should stay for dinner, Tony.”

Tony places his free hand on his chest.

“I would be honoured.”

May looks at Tony strangely before retreating to the kitchen to retrieve the menus.

As soon as she’s out of sight Tony takes his arm off Peter and quickly shifts away from him like he’s been burned. 

“Dude,” Peter whispers, bewildered. “What the fuck?”

“Oh my god,” Tony whispers, shuddering as his face scrunches up in disgust. “I’m going to have to pour scalding hot water on all the places your skin just touched me. Ugh, I feel like I just touched toe fungus.”

Peter slaps his arm.

“What is wrong with you?”

Tony backhands Peter’s arm in retaliation and then shudders all over again.

“Your aunt is crazy hot, okay, I couldn’t help myself. It was an instinctual reaction. Is she taken? C’mon. Vindicate me.” 

“I’ll eviscerate you --”

“-- I mean, clearly she married into the family, she doesn’t share your unfortunate phenotype, but I didn’t see a ring on her finger. So? Yes or no?”

“You’re unbelievable,” Peter hisses as his aunt comes back in. “She’s not available to you. Not now, not ever.”

“But she is available?”

“Don’t even, Stark. You’re like, sixteen. Don’t you have any shame?”

Tony smiles, as she nears. “Not a shred.”

“So,” May waves a menu at them. “You boys happy with pepperoni?”

Closing his eyes, Peter wishes for death.

As fate would have it, he gets pepperoni instead.

-----

If you had ever told Peter that he would be sitting down for dinner with his Aunt and a dirt-streaked Tony Stark, he would have laughed.

And if Peter were outside himself he would probably find the sharing of pizza and soda over their plastic, chequered table-cloth comical -- in that uncanny, Dogs Playing Poker kind of way. But in reality there was nothing funny about the discomfort of having Tony in his personal space or the heavy, suffocating tension that has removed the air from the room. 

The entire time Tony has been hamming it up, cracking jokes with his aunt, complimenting her on the decor, asking what she does for work. Peter doesn’t know if he’s being sweet to May for the purpose of buttering her up, or, given the wealth of his family in contrast to the Parkers, if he’s being cruelly facetious. 

Nonetheless, Peter has felt on edge. It’s disconcerting, is what it is. Every single movement Tony makes, every time he opens his mouth -- frequently to sweet-talk his aunt -- has Peter’s anxiety standing at attention, hyperaware of everything the other boy does.

He’s beginning to feel like a meerkat whose den has been invaded by a lion.

Through the course of a single meal Peter’s attention moves from the sky to the floor. There is no grace or higher power that is coming to save him from this profound, unusual torture. 

So he focuses his hopes to the south, seeing through their tiny, cramped, dinner table, past bargaining. He’s willing to trade his soul to end it all. Surely some wayward being from hell would come to his rescue. 

May has Peter’s chin between her fingers. She turns it this way and that, inspecting his injuries.

“What happened this time, bubby?” She frowns, brow furrowing. “You look like you got beat up.”

Peter, very aware of Tony’s amused gaze on them, gently pulls away from her grasp. He smiles placatingly and picks at his pizza slice. God he’s never going to live this down.

“Training accident. It’s okay, I feel fine. ‘Tis but a scratch,” he brings himself to joke.

“You sure?”

“Yep.”

She leans in to kiss his cheek, carefully avoiding the fresh scabs and injured flesh. “God, you bruise like a peach. Be careful, baby, you’re our money maker,” she laughs. “What about you Tony, do you play football?”

Tony, who is mid way through chewing on a mouthful of pizza, momentarily chokes, beating his chest with his fist to swallow down the obstruction.

“Uh, no,” Tony gulps, wiping his mouth with a napkin. “Nope. No recreational sports for me. Can’t.” He gestures to his chest and sighs heavily. “Asthma.”

Peter sips his coke and rolls his eyes, knowing full well there’s a half-empty pack of Marlboro Light’s in the pocket of Tony’s jeans. Asthma. What a schmuck.

“That’s a shame. Do you boys have classes together?”

Unfortunately, Peter thinks.

The other boy seems to have the same thought, as he glares at Peter from over the table. When he picks up his can of coke, he gives Peter the finger outside of May’s eye-line.

“That’s why Tony’s here,” Peter twists his napkin in his grip. “We have an econ assignment together on microeconomics. Teach says Tony’s destined to be on welfare.”

Tony leans in, chin rested on his hand. He addresses May but his stare, dark and odious, rests on Peter.

“Not accurate. Stay-at-home parent, actually. One might say that is the most important job of all. Wouldn’t you agree, May?”

She raises her Coke.

“Hear, hear.”

Tony grins roguishly, the same grin he gave the girls at the lockers earlier. “Petey here was just saying that we should ask you about your experience running a household on a single salary. We’d love to have you as a reference.”

“Was I saying that?” Peter narrows his eyes. “I can’t remember.”

Tony kicks him under the table. The hit lands right in his knee cap.

Wincing, Peter kicks back, satisfied when the other boy bites his lip to hold back a pained groan.

“Yeah, well, not surprising,” Tony says airily, waving his hand. “Hit your head today, didn’t you? Maybe you should get all that damage looked into.”

The napkin rips in Peter’s grasp.

“Maybe you should go f--”

“I’d be more than happy to help with your assignment, boys,” May cuts in.

Whatever snide reply he has in his mouth instantly wilts when he looks over to his Aunt. She looks...pleased. Delighted, almost. Her eyes under the dull, yellow kitchen light seem to get warmer, and her smile is small but softens around the edges.

Instantly, Peter feels like the worst person in the world. Of course May would be the best person to ask. She does so much for him, the least he can do is set his pride aside for one moment to make her feel good about how hard she works for their life.

He reaches over to squeeze her hand, smiling as gratitude swells unexpectedly in his chest.

“Thanks, May. That would be great.”

Across the table, a smug Tony looks like the cat who got the cream. 

Without warning, Peter’s chest goes hot with contempt, his fingernails dig into his palm. He’s not sure he’s ever met anyone he couldn’t like, until now.

I hate you, Peter mouths while May busies herself with rounding up the pizza boxes.

Kiss my ass, Tony mouths back. 

In an instant his expression flips from contemptuous to angelic when he stands and offers to help May clean up.

Peter stands too, sparing a disdainful glance to the floor. Turns out not even the devil was willing to give him a hand.

Natasha was right. It’s going to end in murder.

---

Peter walks Tony to the door after dinner to say goodbye to his ‘friend’. Following him into the hall, Peter closes the door behind them.

“What do you want, Parker?” Tony asks wearily, retrieving a cigarette from his pocket. “I’m trying to make a getaway here.”

Peter crosses his arms over his chest. “Don’t do that with my aunt. I’m not joking, asshole. It’s not cool.”

“Relax, princess,” Tony rolls his eyes, fishing for his lighter in his backpack. “I’m not actually interested. Just trying to get under your skin. Worked, see? You’re easy like that. Hey, why do you live with your aunt anyways?”

“None of your business,” he frowns as Tony holds one hand up in surrender and lights his cigarette with the other. “Dude, you can’t smoke in here.”

“Can’t, shouldn’t, gonna. By the way, you’ve got sauce on your chin, it’s very distracting.”

Peter wipes at it without thinking. When he pulls it away there is indeed a smear of red sauce on his hand.

Tony walks backwards down the hall and exhales a cloud of smoke, waving in a sardonic imitation of a farewell.

“See you Monday, bubby.”

Peter doesn’t bother with a response, too tired from the week, exhausted by this whole darn day, and it’s not like the other boy cares what he has to say anyway. He takes a moment to swallow his anger before he heads back inside, sighing. 

Well, at least he has an entire weekend free of Stark to look forward to.

May looks at him curiously when he reemerges, but says nothing. He considers for a moment about heading to his bedroom and playing a video game to disassociate - but then, suddenly, remembers her smile earlier, and how alone she looks now. A surge of affection hits him right beneath his breastbone.

He checks his watch and then catches her eye.  Tilting his head towards the living room, he says, “Hey. You wanna eat some ice cream and watch some Colbert before bed?”

She smiles just like she did earlier and kisses his cheek. “Sounds nice, Pete.”

Maybe the whole day wasn’t lost.

As May heads to the sofa and switches the TV on, Peter catches sight of the Magic 8-Ball from the corner of his eye. He walks over and gives it a shake.

Outlook good.

*

*

----

tagging: @bylerboyfriends @ravens-starker-stuff, @starker-rays, @ironspiderstarker, @notfor-temporaryuse, @tabbycat1220, @sugarfreecult, @rebel13lion39, @muse-of-gods

[petersasteria]

Past is Past - Peter Parker AU

Pairing: Peter x Reader, Harry Osborn x Reader Requested? Nah. It based on one of @writing-prompt-s’ prompts. 2.5k words Warning/s: character death, confusion, a satisfied ending

PP Masterlist

Big thanks to my friend @croissantwriting for the help! She’s doing a little gift-giving this Christmas, so if you want a gift from a stranger who’s super nice and friendly, check it out! 

* * * *

“She’s not getting any better, Mr. Parker. I’m afraid she’ll be going soon.” The doctor told Peter with no expression on their face. The doctor kept their face neutral, so that it wouldn’t be an issue for anyone. It was also protocol at the hospital.

The doctor excused themselves and left Peter standing alone in the cold hallway outside of his wife’s room. Peter couldn’t believe that he would lose the person he truly loved; he would lose her to cancer. ‘Fuck cancer.’ He thought. He wanted his wife to live long; to see their children grow up to be the people they’re meant to be. Alas, it was just wishful thinking.

You see, Peter was immortal. In a world where 2% of the population are born immortal, he was one of them. It could be anyone, really. One’s parents don’t have to be immortal for one to be immortal. They were just cursed that way. Being born immortal was God’s cruel way of letting people stay on Earth to be His stewards of creation for eternity. Whether they like it or not, if they were born immortal, they are immediately tied up and forced into the duty of being God’s steward.

The duty of being God’s steward felt wrong. It feels wrong  to watch mortals move on with their lives while some get stuck, getting caught by the sorrow of this immortality that has been given upon them.

Peter had the saddest eyes for a long time, but it all changed when he met the love of his life. Peter has seen things; someone’s last breath, some more heart breaking scenarios, etc. But everything changed when she came into his life. She appeared as someone new... and well, unexpected. She was a great surprise, though. She gave Peter a brand new purpose, she gave him happiness. Every time Peter was with her, he would forget about his curse.

Peter’s eyes held sadness again and it broke his heart to know that he couldn’t do anything to save her; his one true love. His heart broke at the harsh reality that no matter what happens, he’ll eternally stay on Earth while he watches his loved ones pass on.

Gathering up his courage, Peter took a deep breath before entering her hospital room. He quietly entered her room and slowly shut the door behind him. He observed the sight in front of him: his wife slept peacefully with their youngest son next to her on the bed while their two older children were asleep on the couch.

He silently approached the bed and held his wife’s hand as he sat on the chair that was next to her bed. He brought her hand to his lips and kissed it. This caused her to stir awake and look at him with a small smile adoring her face.

“Peter.” She breathed.

“Hey there.” Peter said softly as tears clouded his vision. It pained him to see her like that; weak and fragile and ill. If only there was a cure for her cancer, he would’ve given it to her in a heartbeat.

“I love you, Peter. So much.” She whispered.

“I love you more than everything else.” Peter said as tears freely streamed down his rosy cheeks.

“Please remember that my love for you is eternal. I’ll look for you in the next life just so I can love you the way I love you now. I promise you that, Peter.” She smiled softly. Peter could only nod, not trusting his voice to speak.

That was their last moment together. She died in her sleep, her youngest cuddling up to her as Peter held her hand.

The moment life left her body, God took it and gave it to the baby girl of the woman giving birth at the same hospital on a different floor.

“Baby, wake up or you’ll be late on your first day.” The man’s voice whispered in her ear. “Y/N, seriously. It’s time to get up. I’ll have the car ready for you.”

Y/N groaned and rubbed the sleep off her eyes before stretching and sitting up. She slowly opened her eyes and the sight of her boyfriend of three years greeted her. She smiled at him and said, “Good morning.”

“Good morning!” He smiled and leaned down to press a kiss on her forehead. “Breakfast is ready.” She hummed in response and got out of bed. Her boyfriend, Harry, led the way to the dining area and as soon as they arrived there, they sat down and ate their breakfast in peace.

Today was their first day in college and they decided it would be best to live together in an apartment near their university. Harry Osborn, Y/N’s boyfriend, was privileged and he was able to buy an apartment unit that suited his standards. After all, his girl deserved the best. Harry is kind and generous which surprised a lot of people considering his lifestyle. Y/N was truly lucky, but Harry claims that he’s the lucky one.

The couple parted their ways when they arrived at the university; both of them studying different courses. The rest of the day was alright. Nothing really significant happened and Y/N kept to herself most of the time. Only mingling when she’s supposed to. It wasn’t until her last subject when things started taking a turn.

Y/N sat at the back of the class and texted Harry as student after student came in the classroom. About ten minutes later, Y/N’s professor walked in.

Her professor was undeniably handsome. He had brown, curly hair and brown eyes. He wasn’t tall, but he wasn’t short either. His height was just right. He looked like he was in his thirties and he had the brightest smile. Naturally, the girls in her class swooned over him which made her chuckle. While she would admit that her professor is handsome, her loyalty remained with Harry. He was her endgame and she was sure. They wouldn’t last long if he wasn’t.

“Hello, everyone! My name is Noah Parker and I’d let you guys call me by my nickname, but that would be unprofessional. So, Mr. Parker or sir would be really nice.” Noah smiled at everyone. He wasted no time in teaching.

“Welcome to history 101 and I’ll be your professor for the whole semester.” Noah smiled and grabbed a chalk to write something on the board. Seeing as the class is for three hours, Noah started with the first lesson.

It was obvious that Noah was passionate about history. Everyone listened and he made history fun. They did some ice breakers and a short group activity and a quick game before the class ended. Noah gave them their first assignment which was really easy and it would be passed two days from now.

The class was dismissed and everyone gathered their things and left. Y/N took her time and Noah was erasing the things he wrote on the board. Y/N approached him and cleared her throat, “Excuse me, Mr. Parker?”

Noah turned around with a smile, but it quickly faded when he saw her. He dropped the eraser as his jaw dropped, his gaze remaining on her. Y/N was confused, so she just picked up the eraser and put it on his desk to avoid Noah’s gaze.

Noah shook his head and said, “I’m sorry, it’s just- mom? Is that you?”

Now, it was definitely weird

“Excuse me?” Y/N chuckled awkwardly.

“I can’t believe it.” Noah said in amusement. “I thought dad was crazy, but he’s right! You’d be in the next life after all. Well, your next life. You and dad can be together again! This is so cool. Oh my god.” Noah rambled in excitement.

“I’m so confused right now.” Y/N confessed. “I’m no one else’s mom and I don’t know who your dad is and I’m definitely not getting back together with anyone because I have a boyfriend. You must be mistaken, sir.”

Noah cleared his throat and said, “Um, was there anything you needed before?”

“Oh, yes!” Y/N’s eyes lit up at the change of topic. It was her saving grace. “I have a question about the homework, actually.”

Y/N asked about the homework and Noah happily explained it to her once more. After that, she left Noah all alone in the classroom.

Since then, everything has been awkward between them. Noah informed his father, Peter Parker, about what happened and Peter wanted to see her; to see if it was true. Now, it was Noah’s mission to get you to meet Peter.

One day after class, Noah asked Y/N to stay behind. She awkwardly sat on the seat in front of his desk and Noah sat on his chair behind his desk.

“I would just like to apologize for my behavior last time.” Noah started. “Second of all, I must tell you that I have this weird connection to you. No matter how far I stay away from you, there’s a force pulling me closer to you. Lastly, if you won’t believe me before, you might believe me now.”

Noah took out his phone out of his pocket and unlocked it. He opened his gallery and clicked on the album full of photos from his childhood, most of them had his mom in it. He handed the phone to Y/N and she gasped at the sight of the photos.

It was like she was looking at a window to the past. The woman in the pictures looked similar to her; not completely alike. She returned the phone to her professor, Noah, and gave him a tight-lipped smile.

“Um, I don’t know what to say.” Y/N said.

“Could you maybe meet my dad? It would mean a lot to him. I told you about him and he wants to see you.” Noah pleaded.

“I find this really weird, to be honest.” Y/N said. “I don’t know anything you’re talking about and frankly, I’m not curious about my past life...sir.”

“I understand, but could you maybe reconsider? My dad would love it if you’d visit.” Noah pleaded. “If you meet my dad, I’ll give you extra credit. You kinda suck at this subject, no offense.”

“None taken.” She said as she thought about it. “What if someone becomes suspicious about my grades going up?”

“I’ll just say that it’s because of your extra work and just say that you’ve been studying a lot recently. So, does this mean that you’ll meet him?” Noah asked hopefully.

“Fine. Mainly because I need extra credit.” Y/N agreed. She wordlessly grabbed her things and left the room. Later that night, she received an email from Noah.

Noah Parker To Y/N Y/L/N

Good evening, Ms. Y/L/N! 

My father would like to meet with you at my childhood home at 123 Hamilton Street, this Saturday at lunch time, 12 noon. Please confirm if you’re available at this time and if not, we can reschedule.

My personal phone number is: xxx-xxx-xxxxx. Please contact me there for more details.

All information will be kept between the two of us .

Thank you and stay safe!

Lo and behold, Y/N stood outside the Parker Residence. She took a deep breath and rang the doorbell. It didn’t take long for a young man to open the door. He looked similar to Noah, but he looked younger.

“Please come in.” The man said as he looked at her. She entered the home and the man led the way to the living room. Y/N made herself comfortable on the couch and the man who opened the door sat across from her.

“Um, I’m Y/N.” She smiled.

“I know.” The man said. “I’m Peter Parker and oh my god. It’s really you.”

“If you don’t mind me asking, what’s your relation to my professor, Noah Parker?” Y/N asked innocently.

“He’s my son.” Peter answered. “And you’re my wife.”

Y/N stared at him as Peter had happy tears streaming down his face, “We can finally be together again and we’ll be happier than ever! We could be a family.”

“I’m so confused. How can you be Mr. Parker father when you look like you’re twenty-three?!” Y/N shrieked.

“I’m immortal, honey. I stopped aging at twenty, but I’m still me! I love you and you love me. We can be together.”

“I’m so sorry, but I don’t know who you are and I can’t just start a life with someone I don’t know. If you think I can do that, then you’re sorely mistaken, sir.” Y/N said.

Peter shook his head, “But you said , on your deathbed, that you’d find me in another life. I’m here! We found each other. I don’t understand why you don’t want to stay. You said that your love for me is eternal and you’d love me the same way you did then. What happened? Why can’t we pick up where we left off?”

“With all due respect, if what you claim is right; if I’m your wife in the past, then I’m sorry I can’t be your wife in this life. I have my own things going on and I’m in a committed and happy relationship. I can’t leave him for you. Besides, you’re way older than I am despite your looks. I’m really sorry.” Y/N said softly.

“This is more heartbreaking than when we found out you had cancer.” Peter chuckled bitterly and nodded in understanding. “You may go now, Y/N. I’m sure your boyfriend would wonder where you are.”

Y/N stood up and walked to him to put a hand on his shoulder, “I’m really sorry, but I’d like to get to know you… as friends.”

Peter nodded, “Alright. That’s better than nothing.”

After that encounter with Peter, Y/N saw him a few times after that even after she graduated from college. She got a decent job and her friendship with Peter and the rest of the Parker family remained. Though they never saw each other after she got a job, they all remained in contact.

Y/N and Harry Osborn finally got married after being together for so long. The Parkers were invited to the wedding, but Peter never showed up. He was crestfallen upon finding out that the woman he loved was getting married to someone else.

A year later, Y/N and Harry welcomed their first born in the world. They have been graced with a son and the couple agreed that if they were going to have a son, Y/N would name him.

As she laid there with the newborn baby boy in her arms, she racked her brains for the perfect name. After thinking about it for a long time, a smile formed her mouth as she looked down at her son. They were alone in the room, her husband was buying some food outside. This moment was very soft and peaceful.

“I know what name to give you now.” Y/N whispered and kissed her son’s forehead. The door opened and revealed her husband with a paper bag with take-out in it.

“Have you thought of a name?” Harry asked quietly as he set the food down on the table.

“Yeah.” She nodded, sure of her decision.

“What’ll you name him?” Harry asked.

“Peter.” She smiled fondly at her son. “His name is Peter.”

* * * *

𝐏𝐄𝐓𝐄𝐑 𝐏𝐀𝐑𝐊𝐄𝐑 𝐓𝐀𝐆𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓: @blueleatherbag @harryismysunflower @buckys-little-hoe @sandystoriess @heeeyitskay @slytherin-chaser @quaksonhehe @yaya4302 @lil-mellow-bunbun @starlight-starks @swiftmind @alexx-stancati @sovereignparker @nerdyandproudofitsstuff @pearce14 @cherthegoddess @chewymoustachio @cocoamoonmalfoy @parkerlovebot @supred12 @peterspidey @givebuckyhisplumsnow @beverlythrillz @slutforsr

𝐆𝐄𝐍𝐄𝐑𝐀𝐋 𝐓𝐀𝐆𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓:  @marvelousell @justasmisunderstoodasloki @rubberducky-jrr @allyz @osterfieldnholland @miraclesoflove @god-knows-what-am-i-doing @drie-the-derp @hollands-weasley @itstaskeen  @call-me-baby-gir1 @the-panwitch @iamaunicorn4704 @geminiparkers @holland-styles @calltothewild @fancyxparker​ @herbatkazmiloscia @whatthefuckimbisexual @justanothermarvelmaniac @unsaidholland @musicalkeys @lost-in-the-stars03 @hufflepuffprincess24 @hollanddolanfangirl @parkerpeter24 @bellelittleoff @agentnataliahofferson @aqiise @lexirv @blairscott @pearly-pisces @theonly1outof-a-billion @u-rrose @speedymaximoff @theliterarymess

[slushrottweiler]

Vesuvia University Institute of Medicine and Magic: Kink and Fetish Study

Chapter 3: The use of vibrating paraphernalia and its effect on improved phone interactions

The latest chapter in my smutastic sex study fic, featuring every one favourite Disaster Doctor, and apprentice Terra. For today's @smutember entry "Quickie" and "Toys"

...

Holy fuckstick that is a lot of cock!

Laid out in a neat row on her bed was the largest collection of sex toys Terra had ever seen outside of the internet.  The assorted rainbow of coloured paraphernalia varied wildly in shape, size and materials. From simple peach-toned dildo to a sleek glass phallus, to the three-pronged pink monstrocity with a variety of attachable ridges, textured sleeves and seven-speed vibration settings; it would seem that every kind of penetrative sex toy had been included in Terra's recent parcel. 

She picked up a vibrator at random; this one a stylish mauve with artistic curves meant to pleasure both the clit and g-spot. After fiddling with the settings, the device began to whirr softly and Terra let out a bark of laughter. She dug her phone from her back pocket and dialled the most recent number on her register. If she was honest, her call and text log was mostly just this one number.

The call was answered on the second ring, and Terra didn't wait for a hello before chiming in.

'Why the fuck did I just receive a bouquet of cocks?' 

Terra heard Doctor Julian Devorak choke on the other end of the line. She was beginning to enjoy startling the man.

[[MORE]]

'Terra! I ahh... um well you see... ah hang on.' Julian stuttered, and Terra switched off the purple vibrator as she flopped down amongst her new presents. A technicoloured toy shaped like a 'roided out flower bumped into her forehead and she batted it away.

She could hear the doctor shuffling, then a door closing tightly and Julian clearing his throat. 'Sorry, I'm in my office now. Did you just say you received a severed appendage?'

Terra cackled, 'No! I got a box of dildos, you twit.'

'Oh! Well that is far less disturbing. Why didn't you just say that my dear? You know how to scare a man!' Julian's voice relaxed noticeably and Terra let a smile start to form on her lips.

'We sent them to you to try out. Experiment with alternate stimuli, that kinda thing.' He continued.

'You want me to use ALL of THEM?' Terra sat bolt upright on her bed and looked around at the sea of dicks that surrounded her. 'I don't even know what some of these are! Like, what the actual fuck is this spirally one supposed to be?'

Terra picked up a glittery silver vibrator, that tapered off into a corkscrew. It had a heavy knob at the base and what appeared to be a large suction cup. The button at the base triggered the motor, and it began spinning wildly, startling a cry from Terra. She could hear Julian laughing on the other end of the line.

‘I think that one is supposed to be a unicorn cock?’ he chortled.

‘What?’ Terra squawked, tossing the toy across the bed.

Between chuckles, Julian managed to respond. ‘I thought you’d enjoy the whimsy of it.’

‘You picked me out a magic horse dick!’

He choked on his own laughter and Terra grinned from her side of the call. She switched off the unicorn dildo and pushed it to the far side of her penis rainbow. If she was honest with herself, she’d always been fascinated by the creative variety of sex toys but had been too chicken to purchase any of the more outlandish models. With that in mind, she could guess that a few other toys were based on the reproductive organs of various mythical beasts. 

‘Well they’d make a good talking point for dinner parties.’ Julian suggested.

‘Yeah,’ Terra laughed, ‘I’ll just place this flower dick on a bookshelf and see how many people think its modern art.’

‘I genuinely dare you to do that.’

The two snickered together at their own joke. Terra brushed her hand over the toys, eventually settling on the rabbit-eared one that had caught her eye. This one was a smooth silicone toy, the kind of high end design that tried its best not to appear like a penis. Deep, luxurious red; she stroked the length of it, pleased to find it had no seams on the shaft, or clit stimulator. She turned it over in her hands, pressing a button at random. 

A soft hum filled the space. This toy didn’t rotate, simply quivered in her grip. She could control the speed of each independent motor of the toy, and she experimented by rotating between intensities and rhythms. She switched her phone onto speaker to test out the sensation on the palm of her hand. 

The vibration tingled through her fingers and up her arm, a rolling rhythm that made her eyelids flutter when she pressed it into a sore joint of her hand. 

‘I think I’ve found my favourite.’ She mumbled absently.

There was a sharp gasp from the phone. ‘You’re trying them out now?’ Julian asked.

Terra turned and flopped down on her pillow beside the phone. She waggled the toy at the device, as though Julian could see it.

‘Just against my palm. If nothing else, it’ll do wonders for my hand cramps.’ 

‘Well that’s something. Which one is it?’ Julian asked.

Rather than answer, Terra scooped up the phone and snapped a quick picture of herself, posing ridiculously with the vibrator held against her cheek. A few of the other toys could be seen at the edges of the frame, but mostly it was just a closeup shot of her goofy pout and the red vibe. Without thinking, she sent the photo to Julian.

‘I don’t know the name, its this red one.’ She explained.

‘There are three different red ones.’ 

‘Yeah I know. Is red your favourite colour or something?’ Terra teased.

‘Mahogany actually, but red is rather –’ he trailed off when the bing of an incoming text signaled, and Terra grinned at the ceiling as she imagined his gobsmacked face. She thought she heard a strangled groan, but it was gone in a rumble of chuckles. 

‘That is… unreasonably adorable.’ Julian declared. His voice was pitched a bit lower, possibly to keep the volume down. 

‘What can I say? I am just a bundle of cuteness.’ She replied sarcastically. 

‘Yeah...’ Julian trailed off with a sigh. 

Moments tricked by in silence, and Terra checked her phone to see if the call had dropped. Tapping the still-active toy against her shoulder, she asked, ‘So, do I need to take notes on them or something?’

Julian cleared his throat before responding. ‘Yes, if you like. Otherwise you can call me, and I can record the data. You could film it if you were comfortable with that.’

‘Yeah, nah.’ Terra said. ‘So you’d guide me through it?’ 

The line between them seemed suddenly heavy with tension. Julian hadn’t been present for any guided masturbation sessions since ‘The Car Incident’, as Terra had been calling it. They’d still met up plenty, but their experiments had been self-guided, with Julian taking on the role of silent observer. It hadn’t yielded as consistent a response as their previous tests, and a part of Terra was itching for the doctor to have a more active roll.

‘Um no.’ Julian answered, and Terra tried not to feel disappointed. ‘But we can angle it a different way. I’m looking to progress the angle that you respond more to the actual speech than who is saying what. Less instruction kink and more a voice kink. So we can try you describing to me what you are doing, and I can take down the notes.’

The idea of describing herself getting off to Julian did have some appeal, but not as much as she would have liked. Still, she was being paid to try these things out, and the idea of Julian listening in as she got off had its perks. She wondered if maybe, late at night when he was tired and not thinking quite so straight; did he get off on the images of her he had seen that day? Did he think about her touching herself, think about touching her himself . 

She turned the vibrator over in her palm. Terra knew she shouldn’t be hoping for things like that. Julian was her supervising doctor for Christ’s sake. But… she still wanted him to want her. Just as much as she did. Which was cruel and wrong and not something she should be thinking about. She needed to get this out of her head, focus her mind on something else.

‘Are you busy now?’

‘Huh? Wha, no not really.’ Julian stuttered adorably.

Terra reclined back on her bed, kicking the other toys onto the floor and settling comfortably in a warm patch of sunlight. She switched the vibrator onto its lowest setting and touched it gently to the exposed skin of her thigh. The tiny tremors were pleasant and just a little naughty, and she let out a low hum as she traced the vibrating tip in random patterns.

‘That’s good doc. Don’t want you working too hard.’ Her own voice had slowed, turned thick and smooth like honey.  

‘I’ll have you know I maintain a very healthy work/life balance.’ 

That earned a lazy snort from Terra, who let her eyelids flutter shut -- to focus completely on the sound of Julian’s voice and the rumbling vibrations. 

‘Which is why you’re constantly found asleep at your desk?’ 

‘Well maybe my desk is just surprisingly comfortable.’ 

‘I’ll have to test that for myself doc.’ Terra purred, and she heard Julian swallow thickly over the line. With a shiver, Terra dragged the toy up her thigh until it skimmed the edge of her denim cut-offs. She skimmed the tip against her inner thigh as goosebumps trailed in its wake.

‘Would you like that my dear?’ Fuck, Julian’s voice had taken on that deep tone he used when he instructed her. She couldn’t tell if he did it on purpose; if he was teasing or serious, but the sound had anticipation coiling in her stomach and heat pooling between her legs.

‘And if I did?’ Terra purred back, ‘Maybe I want to imagine being laid out across your desk. Spread across it like a dream.’

Carefully, so she didn’t jostle her phone from where it balanced on the pillow beside her, Terra unsnapped her shorts and kicked them away. Her underwear was already damp, and she immediately pressed firmly down on her aching clit. A low groan escaped as she massaged the aching bud through the light cotton, her other hand still ghosting the vibrator against her skin. 

When Julian spoke again, he sounded torn between arousal and frustration. ‘Damnit Terra, that’s not --’

‘It’s just a fantasy doc. Isn’t that why you sent me this box of toys? To let me play?’ This was the first time Terra had taken such a talkative role in their sessions, and the sound of Julian’s breathing growing laboured was a jolt to her system. 

‘Is that what you’re doing? Playing with me?’ he groaned.

Terra smirked. ‘Well, right now I’m playing with myself.’ As if to punctuate her words, Terra turned the vibration setting up, so the rumbling buzz sounded louder in the quiet afternoon space. She slid the tip under the seam of her underwear, stroking it back and forth until a full body shudder rolled over her. She heard Julian curse quietly.

‘How about it doc? Wanna play with me?’

‘Terra…’ he dragged out her name, a warning mixed with a plea.

‘Come on. For science…’ Terra knew she was treading a very fine line. She was probably stepping over it. But right now, with the ache between her legs and the sound of Julian’s breath in her ear, she couldn’t seem to help herself.

‘Fuck. You will be the death of me.’ Julian hissed and a breathless laugh escaped Terra as she realised she had won. As if this was the signal she had been waiting for, Terra pulled aside her underwear and finally pressed the vibrator fully against her clit.

Her back arched off the bed on impact, a shaky gasp mixing with Julian’s groan. Not wanting to go slowly, she rubbed the rumbling vibe fully against her clit, hips bucking up to meet the toy. It wasn’t hard to imagine Julian’s attention fully fixed on her, knowing he was listening with rapt attention from the other end of the call.

‘Tell me what you’re doing Terra.’ Julian asked. His words shook as he spoke, and it only egged Terra on. 

‘For science?’ She teased and revelled in the snarl that echoed through the phone.

 ‘Just tell me, please.’ he begged and oh, that was a new and exciting sound.

Terra dragged the toy down over folds until it was coated in her slick. Lining up the shuddering tip with her entrance, Terra pressed the toy into her slowly, letting the pleasure of her being stretched fill her voice.

‘It’s inside me.’ she panted once it was pushed to the hilt. The two soft ears settled easily on either side of her clit, and she quickly cycled through the patterns to find a roiling pulse that made her toes curl. ‘Fuck it fills me up so well.’

‘Gods Terra.’ Julian huffed and she started to move.

Keeping her wrist action steady, Terra slowly eased the toy in and out of her. As she panted, she quickened the pace, letting the toy press up against her g-spot with ever push. She was so wet, it glided easily in and out.

‘I’m going slow. Its… fuck, its bigger than I thought it would be.’ humming low in her throat, she sped up slightly, meeting her own movements with a thrust of her hips. Julian groaned, and a loud thump sounded, as though he had just slammed his head back against a wall.

‘It feels so good doc. Reaches all the right spots.’ she murmured, turning her head so it faced the phone beside her head. Julian’s voice was tinny through the speaker, and was muffled, like he was holding the phone close to his lips. God, now Terra was thinking about his lips. Firm and pink, and so quick to quirk into a sly smile. She could see him in her mind’s eye, leaning over her on all fours as she plunged the toy deeper, pressing the ears more firmly against her clit.

Julian swallowed hard. ‘Does it fill you up darling?’

Terra’s reply was a whimper and an increase in speed. Her hips jerked up as she fucked herself harder with the vibrator Julian had picked out for her. The steady buzz mixed with the wet slap of silicone meeting skin. Her own gasps seemed to reverberate off the walls of her bedroom, but she was focused solely on the quiet sounds coming from her phone. There was a clack of metal and fuck… was that a zipper.

‘Julian…’ Terra gasped and the doctor gifted her with a full blown moan that had her grip tightening on the toy. ‘Julian, are you…’

‘Don’t.’ he groaned, and she strained to hear the sounds in the background of Julian’s call. A steady thumping blended with his panting breaths, keeping time with her own actions. 

‘Just,’ Julian continued through his teeth, ‘Just dont stop.’ he groaned.

Terra moaned, her free hands gripping her hair as she fucked herself harder. ‘I won’t. I can’t stop.’

The sounds of sex bounced between them, Terra’s moans turning to heady pants as she pushed herself higher. She was so wet now, her own slick coated the toy and her own fingers. Sunlight warmed her quivering legs as her imagination melded with the sounds Julian made. 

With a particularly strong thrust, Terra all but squealed and arched of the bed, throwing her head back as the vibrations pulsed through her. Her actions disrupted her phone, which slid away and fell off the pillow. Instantly she whimpered at the loss, eyes snapping open to flail madly across her bed until she could scoop it up again. Quickly tapping it off speaker, she pressed the mobile against her ears and whimpered in pleasure at effect. It was like Julian was panting right in her ear, like he was pressed against her and the sounds pumped heat into her blood.

‘Don’t go.’ She begged without thinking. She pressed the phone harder as she slammed the toy into her aching cunt. “I’m getting close…’

‘I’m not going anywhere darling.’ Julian groaned on the other end of the line. ‘I’m right there… with you.’

“Fuck Julian. Fuck, fuck, fuuucckkk…’ Curses and pleas tumbled from Terra as she neared the edge. Julian moaned along with her, his cries muffled like he was biting his lip. Screwing her eyes shut tightly, Terra let herself sink into the vibrations of the toy and his voice, until she felt like she was wound so tightly she would snap.

‘Oh fuck, I’m cumming!’ The words ripped out of Terra and she came. Her orgasm smashed into her, hot and quick, with the sounds of Julian's gurgled moans filling her head. Her whole body seemed to shudder as the vibrations pushed her over, mouth open wide in a perfect silent O.

It took a minute for Terra’s brain to reboot. She slid the toy out of her with a quiet squelch, turning it off and letting it drop beside her without a care for the sheets. Considering how wet she was, she would have to change them anyway. Heavy panting came from the other end of the line, and Terra wondering if it was just an echo from her own ragged breathing of if it was really Julian who was so out of breath. 

‘Well,’ Julian cleared his throat before he spoke. He did sound a little out of it. ‘I think we’ve found your new favourite toy.’

In her orgasm-fried state, Terra just threw her head back and laughed.

………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………….

 

Julian stared at the phone he had just hung up. The standard call screen closed after a moment, revealing the last thing he had looked at besides the call. Filling the screen was a picture of his patient, pouting ridiculously. Her hair was spread out against her pillow in a vivid green halo, amber eyes flashing with mischief in the afternoon light. And poking her in the cheek was a deep red vibrator, its dual ends just visible in the shot.

The very same vibrator he had just listened to her get herself off with. A sex toy he had bought her.

Because she was a Patient in a Study HE was supposed to be supervising.

Looking down at himself, Julian cringed at the sight. His fist was still clenched around the base of his cock, softening after he had come hard to the sinful sounds coming from the girl he couldn’t seem to get out of his head. His own cum was splattered against the dark denim of his jeans, hanging low on his hips from where he had pushed it out of the way just enough to free himself. 

Dropping his head back against his shut office door, Julian covered his eyes with his arm, and groaned.

He was well and truly fucked.

[naptis-lucis-caelum]

HAPPY 420 (Noctis x Reader)

welllll it’s officially 420 and I’m stoned so might as well right? based on this photo of Noct, Iggy, and Prompto getting high as fuck floating around, posted by his-shining-tears, and the source says Twitter but the link just goes to the homepage. if anybody knows the original source, kindly send it to my inbox please! idk why it got fluffy in the end, but yall know me i’m a thirsty Noctis hoe and will do just about anything to write about him lmao. AANNNNDDD ENJOY 

p.s. I know they’re in a tent in the photo but wtv

Rating: SFW

Pairing(s): Noctis Lucis Caelum/Reader

Fandom: Final Fantasy XV

Warning(s): Drugs, swearing

Plot Summary: The guys invite you to celebrate the mystical stoner holiday of 4/20 with a little help from Gladio’s not-so-secret stash.

Words: 2,143

As soon as you finished your last lecture for the day, your phone began to vibrate violently in your pocket.

New Message from CHOCOBO BUTT HEAD:

WRU????

“Oh, for the love of–” you hurriedly scrolled down in order to hide that extremely compromising photo of the Crown Prince and his Crownsguard. 

You lowered the brightness of your screen and scrolled back up again, pinching the screen and zooming on their faces. The only thing that gave Prompto’s current state of mind away was the redness in his eyes; Iggy was clearly stoned, with his eyes almost invisible; while Noct’s cheeky grin-and-thumbs-up combination made your heart flutter a little bit. Leaving the classroom, you replied,

omfg whose stash are u smoking?

CHOCOBO BUTT HEAD: irrelevant question

You knew for a fact that Ignis had grabbed Prompto’s phone to send that reply himself. 

CHOCOBO BUTT HEAD: u didnt answer the question

i just finished class

CHOCOBO BUTT HEAD: k cool were at the apartment

The sender’s disregard for mentioning whose apartment they were in specifically only meant that the person currently holding Prompto’s phone was none other than the owner of the apartment himself, Noctis.

...is that an invitation or

CHOCOBO BUTT HEAD: obvs

CHOCOBO BUTT HEAD: hurry

CHOCOBO BUTT HEAD: AND BRING FOOD

With two paper bags filled with chips, candy, and Ebony, you stepped off the elevator and entered the hallway. You could already smell the dank from there, hearing laughter faintly echoing the corridor. The noise gradually got louder as made your way to the apartment, confirming that they were indeed the laughter of your friends.

After a bit of struggling, you finally managed to ring the doorbell. Obvious shuffling from the other side of the door moved closer to you until a blondie opened the door.

“She’s here!” Prompto yelled out. He looked back at you and noticed the bags you were carrying, taking them off your hands and adding, “And she bought the food, guys!”

You closed the door behind you and followed Prompto into the living room. On the floor sat the other two who appeared in the photo; they were missing an additional person. You stared at each of their obviously stoned faces one by one, adding two and two together until it hit you.

“So,” you grinned, joining their circle and taking the space between Noctis and Ignis. “Does Gladio know you’re smoking his weed?”

Noct chuckled lazily, “Nope, but what he doesn’t know won’t hurt him.”

Ignis passed you a freshly rolled joint and a lighter. “Spark it?” he offered with a sluggish smile.

“Why thank you, Iggy.”

You took the joint and placed the filter between your lips, leaning forward as Ignis sparked the lighter. You took a puff, then another, and one more until the burn looked even from your end. A deep exhale with a cloud of smoke escaped your lips, adding to the already low visibility of the room. Psychedelic rock music softly blasted from Noct’s speakers on the table as you passed it over to Prompto who was busy digging in.

He grabbed the joint and took a sip of water. “You guys know what,” he inhaled sharply. “I love eating.”

Prompto took another puff, holding it in for a couple seconds before releasing completely. He passed it to Iggy who just opened a can of Ebony. Careful, he took a quick sip from his fountain of youth and followed it with a deep inhale of his perfect roll.

“And I love Ebony.”

The Prince happily accepted Iggy’s joint offer, moving forward to grab it before leaning back on the couch. He stretched out his right leg and fixed his left knee up. 

Giggling, he took his first drag of the new joint. “And I love–” He turned to you for a second then quickly looked away, shaking his head. “Lucis!” he quickly finished, exhaling the smoke.

“You always get nationalistic when you’re high,” you pointed out, erupting in laughter with Prompto and Iggy. 

Noct joined in and ran a hand through his midnight hair, “It’s because I think the past Kings of Lucis try to speak to me when I’m stoned!”

The roaring got louder with his comment and the joint started another cycle. You took it from Noct and passed it on to Prompto who kept it between his thumb and index fingers. 

“Do you guys think the past Kings see us right now?” he asked.

“If they did,” Noct said. “I just wanna say sorry to my great-great-great-grandfather’s grandfather,” he finished off.

Next thing you knew, Noct was already handing the joint to you. Has it been that long already? Or did I space out? Wow, this is some pretty good shit.

Your eyes began to droop, but from the corner of your eye, you could see the Prince watching you take a hit. Unsure of whether it was the weed or just you, you started to become more conscious of your actions as you handed the half-joint over to the marksman. Prompto let it hang on the corner of his lips for a few moments, fixing the snacks you had bought on the table in the middle of your circle.

“... I’m fairly certain His Majesty’s done his fair share of rule breaking,” Ignis chimed in, snapping you back into reality.

Okay, you were transcending your current realm. 

You shook your head to look at the three men chatting away. You must’ve been quiet for a while now, considering the fact that you weren’t entirely sure what they were on about.

“King Regis toking? Fuck me, that’d make for one hell of a cover!” Noct exclaimed as he entered a fit of laughter. 

Slowly, Iggy exhaled once more and a cloud of smoke appeared above your heads. He tapped Noct’s arm and showed him the remaining of the joint, prompting him to calm down a little bit so he could take his hit.

“Your old man? A stoner?” Prompto reiterated with his thumb under his chin. “I could so picture it, dude!”

“And as it turns out, the apple doesn’t fall far from the tree,” Ignis teased.

“Get off my dick, Iggy,” Noct joked in response, making all of you laugh this time. “And stop trying to sneak vegetables in my food all the damn time. If you like them so much, just eat it yourself!” He puffed out and stretched his arm out to you. “You should roach this,” he suggested with a faint smile quirking up his lips. 

“Nah, go ahead,” you offered back. “You’re already holding it.”

“But you just got here!” he retorted, moving his arm up and down to add emphasis to the burning joint. “Those in favor, say I.”

“I!” Prompto and Iggy voted together, raising their right hands in support.

You shrugged, “If you insist.”

You roached what was left of the roll, then killed it on the ashtray on the table. The moment you leaned back on the couch, you felt a tap on your arm and saw Noctis doing the exact same thing he was doing just now.

“Wait, what the fuck?” you said out loud, looking over at the filter of the last joint on the ashtray, then back at the joint Noctis was holding. “Didn’t I just kill one?”

“Dude, that was ages ago,” Prompto answered you as his right hand dove inside a bag of chips.

“No way,” you replied in disbelief. 

On your left, Noct refrained himself from chuckling, in turn making Iggy chuckle too. The two of them looked at each other and, unable to control themselves, burst into a mixture of heavy wheezing and loud ha-has.

Your eyes switched from studying Noct and Iggy’s face, bouncing back and forth as you watched them either slap their thigh or clap their hands. The Prince favored the thigh slap more, while the Royal Advisor preferred to clap his leathered hands.

“Ah, you’re so fucking cute when you’re stoned,” Noct blurted out, turning his head to face your blush-mantled cheeks. 

You rolled your eyes in a response but you could feel the heat on your face rising. Mockingly, you grabbed the not-so-new joint from his fingers and inhaled. “I swear,” you held your breath. “I just roached the other one.”

“If you did, we wouldn’t be having this conversation, now would we?” Prompto fired back as he pulled his hand out to take the joint. 

You paused, “But we were having a totally different conversation before this.”

“Indeed,” Iggy nodded. “Prompto and I best be going.”

“Huh?” you responded. “I just got here, Iggy! Come on, stay a while longer?”

“Just got here?” a voice from below you asked.

You looked down and found Noct’s head resting on your lap, his glassy blue eyes looking straight into yours. Once you began to feel the physicality of your body, you found your right hand unconsciously combing through his hair. When did he lie down?

“Yeah, didn’t we just...?” You pointed over at the overflowing ashtray on the table, spotting the countless filters resting on top of each other. The food was completely devoured, and you realized you actually felt pretty full.

“Holy shit, how stoned are you?” Prompto taunted. “It’s almost midnight and I’m fuckin’ sleepy.”

“Again, you guys don’t have to go,” Noct said. “Just sleep here!”

Iggy and Prompto looked at each other, rolling their eyes at that comment he just made. You stared as the two of them conversed with their eyes, obviously making sure you wouldn’t get the hint. 

“Nah, I’d rather sleep on my own bed,” Prompto declined.

“I share the same sentiments,” Iggy nodded, moving his hand up to adjust his glasses. “By the way, Noct, I’m in no mood to drive so I’ll be leaving the Regalia in your hands.”

“Ha,” Noctis scoffed. “I’m a great driver!”

“I meant to say, ‘don’t fuck it up.’” Ignis bit back. “Goodnight, you two.”

"Later!” Prompto called out.

This left you and Noctis’ head on your thighs all alone. You awkwardly continued to play with the softness of his hair, pretending like this was a normal occurrence in your friendship. He attempted to do the same, lightly grazing the thumb on his right hand over your left knee. 

Finally, he cleared his throat and broke the silence. “I don’t... I don’t think you’re in the condition to drive,” he stated.

“I-I–”

Was he seriously asking you to sleep there?

“I think I’ll be fine,” you nodded.

“Please, I insist!” he maintained. “If anything terrible happened to you...” 

Noct’s voice trailed off but he kept his eyes locked on yours.

You took a deep breath, “Alright. Alright, yeah, sure.”

Okay, he gets it, you’re staying the night. Calm down.

“Cool!” he squeaked, getting up and patting the dust from his cargo pants away. “I’ll... I’ll get the couch ready. You can take my bed,” he generously presented.

“Noct,” you titled your head. “Please, I’ll take the couch. I don’t wanna displace you in your home.”

He scratched the back of his head and aired out a laugh, “It’s no big deal, really!”

Your heart began to beat faster as the seconds passed. Finally, you plucked up the courage and proposed,

“I don’t mind sharing the bed.”

His sea blue eyes grew wide for a moment before he quickly bobbed his head up and down in extreme concurrence. You entered the bedroom behind him, and even though you’ve been in there countless times before, being along with Noctis was pushing your mind into overdrive, your heart into arrest, and your primal want into a need. 

As you settled into bed with him, all cleaned up and still quite blazed, you snuggled up to his side and patted his arm in an upward motion. He looked down at you and grinned, lifting his arm up and allowing you to place your head on his shoulder. Tilting your body sideways, you closed your eyes and rested your hand on his chest. 

It was a relief to know that his heart was beating just as fast as yours.

“Happy 420,” he said randomly, causing you both to giggle.

“Happy 420, Noct.”

He planted what seemed like a long, overdue kiss on your forehead. Maybe the next time you smoke together, the two of you will finally be vocal about how you feel for each other.

[jamesholden]

a place to call home

I started this a while back for Alex Kamal Appreciation Week and kind of lost inspiration. But I found it in my feelings about Persepolis Rising and just freaking banged out the ending. I really wanted to have Alex reflect on what had happened between him and Holden, and how he sees their little family with his own past behind him (no matter how much I want to pretend it doesn't exist like he does in the show). I hope I did him justice.

This is for @nourgelitnius​, who is an amazing friend and deserves all the happiness and Alex she can possibly have.

Please leave a review on ao3 if you can. Enjoy! Thanks for reading!

The Roci is quiet again. The monster is gone. The list of necessary repairs—lengthy and painful—is together. Alex sighs as the coffee machine hisses, scooping up his fresh bulb.

He thumps Amos’s good shoulder as he passes the table. Amos grunts, but doesn’t look up from his terminal. Focused on figuring out what he can repair himself. Naomi nearly bumps into him in some kind of rush. She gives him a weak smile as she ducks past him. Away from the medbay, towards her cabin. Not Holden’s. He doesn’t ask. As he passes the medbay himself, he catches sight of Holden still sat there, letting his leg set. He’s rubbing at his eyes, holding tight to the arm of the chair. Alex pauses at the door. Holden doesn’t look up. Alex continues on. He doesn’t see Prax. The good doc is probably holed up in his own cabin. It’s not quite normal, but preferable to the day they’d had leading up to it.

Alex steps up into the almost-as-quiet Ops deck. He sips at his coffee, bitter and strong. He ain’t sleeping any time soon. He doesn’t think any of them are. They’d almost lost Naomi and Amos on the Somnambulist. Then they’d almost lost Holden. On the Roci for Christ’s sake. Part of him wants them all in one room, right here with him. Wants to be able to see them and make them laugh and know they’re okay. Kept busy with work so their minds don’t wander. But they need to decompress, and so does he.

So instead, he sits with his number one gal.

“Hey, honey,” Alex drawls. “Sorry I made you wait so long.”

He climbs up to the pilot’s chair, flops down with a sigh. He can’t sleep, but at least he can relax. He settles in, taking another long draw from his bulb as he studies the screen above him. The camera is still set to the cargo bay, though Holden’s helmet cam is dark. The torn-open doors show off the dark void they’re meant to protect the crew from. The crate that had pinned Holden to the wall is off camera, but Alex still can’t help looking for it. He sighs.

“You almost lost your CO today, you know.” He blinks up at the bulkhead above him. There’s no response. He tsks, looks back down. “I mean, of course you know. You were watching his vitals for us. Still. Was that close.”

Alex listens to the beeps and hums of the ship around him. A small symphony just for him. He lives for moments like this: just him and the ship. The Roci is the best of them, but he’s always looked forward to time alone with all of the ships that came before. They’re almost like some large creature; the way they hum and shift around him feels like breathing. Living. It’s what makes her too easy for him to talk to. That and, the fact that there are no arguments.

“I was so…” He huffs, gulps at his coffee. Looking for words. “I was so pissed at him earlier. You know?” Alex runs a hand through his hair. “He was… he was gonna let Amos… let Naomi die. Just like that. Because he had to stop that… that thing. I mean what the hell, right? What was he thinking?”

True to form, the Roci doesn’t answer. She never answers. Not really. Alex breathes in the silence. Imagines what she might say.

“Nah, I get that. I said something, he snapped out of it. I knew he would, I mean Holden’s not as big an asshole as he seems.” The Roci beeps. Alex shrugs. “Most of the time. But… for a moment… it seemed like he really… like he was going to really do it. Keep going. Let them die.”

Alex lets the words linger on his lips and in the air. With everything that’s happened… it doesn’t feel like just over a day ago. It feels like weeks. Only the vivid memory of his heart hammering in his chest as he talked down a red-lit Holden, as determined as Alex had ever seen him, from the edge of the abyss. A place the man would never come back from had Alex not succeeded.

Alex sighs, rubs at his eyes. “He’d have never forgiven himself. Not once he’d snapped out of… whatever it is he’s got goin’ on.” He starts to lift his bulb to his lips before the thought strikes him. “And I’d never forgive myself if I let him do it.”

The Roci says nothing. Not even a beep. The observation needs no agreement. Really, it should have been more obvious. It had only partially been about saving Holden’s soul. When it comes down to it, really, deep down, it was about his own soul.

Each one of them had come off of Eros scarred. At first, it had been just Naomi who had been haunted by the ones they couldn’t save. Haunted by that little girl she’d been forced to leave behind. But as Alex spent more and more time with the Belters they managed to get off Eros (at the time an unlucky draw based on one sick captain, one XO caring for him, and one disconnected mechanic in his own world leaving him the only one capable of taking on such a task), he realized that Naomi was right to be hurt. To be angry. They should have saved more.

And then they lost the breaching pod in the assault on Thoth.

It would be the last time Alex would lose anyone, if he had a say in it. So he made his voice heard when Holden let his anger blind him to what it would cost him. Refused to back down. Let his determination to save everyone he can battle it out with Holden’s determination to rid the system of the Protomolecule. His determination beat Holden’s fear.

He’d be more proud of himself if he didn’t understand Holden’s position. But Amos and Naomi are alive. Melissa is alive. The refugees. Holden and Prax. Alex.

All because he stood up to Holden. He deserves to be proud.

Alex sips at his coffee, trying to remember a time when he cared far less about any of these people, his crew. His family. He tries to remember what life was like when his world was piloting an ice freighter: arguing with Ade and Byers about how long a run could take on various speeds regardless of their navigating and backseat driving; testing how long it took to get McDowell of his back by throwing every Martian colloquialism into as many sentences as he could; going back and forth with Paj on how Mars’ advanced technology could beat any Belter spare parts; bothering Shed for as many painkillers as he could get. As much as he misses them, and feels a slight stab when he thinks of them, he never once considered them family. He especially never considered Holden, Naomi, and Amos as anything more than a babysitter thought of their charges. Workers come and go. They were replaceable. Even him. Until the Cant got nuked anyway. Hell, even after.

It wasn’t until the Donnager, until the Scopuli, until Eros, that Alex realized that yes: this is his family now. Irreplaceable. Amos, with his deadpan, off-color humor, an uncanny ability to read anyone, quick to what he sees as necessary violence. Naomi, with her Belter realism, her technological genius, her tenderness and care that can fast turn to brutal honesty when pushed. And Holden with his tilting at windmills, his dimming optimism and transparency, his unhealthy coffee addiction, and a loyalty to his crew that nothing, not even his weight in gold, could break.

That’s how Alex had won him over. His loyalty to their little broken crew. Our family needs us. Something in Holden’s eyes told Alex that he would never turn his back on family. Maybe one day he’d tell him the story why. He hums.

“He figured it out though, didn’t he hon?” Alex snorts a laugh, looks up at the ceiling. “And he got what he wanted anyway. Almost died in the process… which… isn’t what I wanted. But he’s here. So’s Naomi and Amos.” Something on the Ops deck below whirs. “Plus one, yeah. The good doctor. Saved Holden for us. Kept our family whole.” He taps the side of his mug, watching the screen before him as it showed them on their present course to nowhere.

“Wouldn’t mind if he joined us, really. But we’re gonna save his kid. No smart man brings his kid on a gunship. Besides, Ganymede will need every doctor it’s got to recover. Botanist or no. It’s a nice thought, though.”

The Roci makes a sound one might think of as mournful. If that “one” was one Alex Kamal. He doesn’t blame her. He’s gotten used to having Prax around. Taking him home wouldn’t hurt quite as badly as losing anyone from his crew. But it would sting.

Alex closes his eyes, lets himself sink into his crash couch. He could fall asleep here, surrounded by the hums and beeps and whirs of his gunship. There’s no regs, no pilot shift changes to keep him from doing so, not like when he was in the Navy. He’s free to enjoy himself in the one place he feels truly comfortable. There’s nothing but him and his ship. The moments tick by.

The distant sounds of doors opening and closing join the mechanical hums of the Roci. He pictures Holden headed back to his quarters alone, aided by the float rather Naomi. For whatever reason. More doors. Magboots in the halls. He can envision Amos slipping into the galley to dip into their alcohol stash one last time. Or Prax, exploring now that he’s trusted enough to be left to his own devices. Maybe Naomi, walking towards Holden’s closed door, hovering outside and willing it to open. The music of a ship on night shift can create all kinds of stories. He’s always loved it.

Nothing makes it better than knowing it’s the story of his new family. Only time will tell where it will go from here.

When he opens his eyes again, he sees the corner of a photo, peeking out from behind his station. A weight starts to settle in his stomach. His wife. Their son. He had had a family that relied on him. Loved him. He’d already failed them. They don’t even know he’s alive, a fact he’s been more than reminded of by everyone who knows. Maybe they’d find out, with Holden’s messages to Earth while chasing Eros, or his broadcasted threat to both Navies. Maybe they’d find out. Reach out. Maybe not. Maybe they’ve moved on and found someone better. Someone more grounded. Someone who won’t fail them.

He won’t fail this family. He’ll do better. He has to. He closes his eyes again, takes a breath and the weight fades.

Alex lets himself drift to the sounds of home and the comfort of family, all his. All in his Rocinante.