i think i like it even better with just the kaidan shirt

hotstuffcortez  asked:

for the Five Times meme fShenko and /almost/ kissing


It’s late, and Shepard knows she’s going to have a hell of a headache the next morning. It’s always this way with wine. She drinks too much, thinking she’s something classy and mature, and then a bottle or so later, she’s woozy and feels the need to eat everything in sight.

“Shepard,” Kaidan says, hiccuping halfway through her name. She laughs too, and he holds a hand up. “Stop. You’re not making sense either.”

It started out innocent, just the two of them splitting cheap wine after dinner in the mess. They’d swapped stories, talking about the worst soldiers they’d shared crew quarters with. His worst was an aggressive snorer, hers was a rookie private who seemed to think the Alliance was a glorified dating service.

“I totally am,” she giggled, and hiccuped too.

He shakes his head, and wobbles forward on the bench. She catches him as he hiccups again and covers his mouth to keep from laughing. Shepard always knows she’s drunk because she feels it in her face first. It goes numb and tingly, and the world feels floaty and fuzzy. But now that her hand is on Kaidan’s body, she feels stable, coherent… in the moment. Her thumb brushes along the strong muscles under his shirt, and they both go quiet.

He swallows, and she looks at his lips. She swears he’s begging to be kissed looking so handsome and getting this close to her. She parts her lips and leans forward. Suddenly, the door to the crew quarters pops open and Kaidan jolts away and rubs the back of his neck. 

“Mmm, sorry,” Ashley mumbles, half asleep and stumbles into the bathroom.

“It’s… it’s okay,” Shepard replies under her breath.

Keep reading

It’s a really long time since I last wrote seriously. I asked for prompts a while back and then totally failed to write anything coherent for them. Apparently that’s because none of them made my heart hurt enough since this came relatively easily, even if I’ve been fussing over it for four days now.

it’s probably utter clumsy tripe but i tried honestly it’s been SO long and I’ve lost all of my critical skill 

(Mass Effect, Rani Shepard, Kaidan Alenko, SFW, Post-ME1/Beginning of ME2) 
Also on AO3: http://archiveofourown.org/works/10035323

A Little Breath

“Do you remember what I said before, about shared shore leave?” said Kaidan. The lights in the cabin were dimmed, still on the night cycle, but there was enough illumination for him to see Shepard’s face. She lay on her side, head propped up by her arm, watching with a faint smile as he pulled his pants on.

“I think you mentioned it,” said Rani. She yawned, stretched beneath the blankets then pushed them back and swung her legs over the side. “Remind me?” She stretched again, rolling her shoulders and enjoying the slight pull of her muscles. She crossed the cold floor to her locker on bare feet and began to dress.

“Well, I just thought it’d be nice. We could spend some time together. Away from all-” Kaidan waved a hand vaguely as he stood and fished a shirt from the floor- “All this. Duty. Work. Rank. I mean, don’t get me wrong, I love that we’re able to work together and I wouldn’t want it any other way, but… sometimes it’s hard. And I hate all this sneaking around. This-” He paused and looked down his chest at the t-shirt that stretched awkwardly across his shoulders and was not nearly long enough “- this is not my shirt.” Rani stifled a snort at the sight.

Keep reading

missannaraven  asked:

2. Favourite headcanon - Ben and Kaidan reading Shepard/Alenko fan fiction together and loving it :)

Aww nice! I’m real glad, still one of the things I was most nervous about in DbtSS!


“I’ve noticed something,” Kaidan said. Shepard couldn’t see his face at the angle he was standing. Besides, he was too enthralled by the curve of the model’s spine, the way his muscles rippled beneath golden flesh. Shepard smudged his pencil line, imagining he was running his thumb across the man’s real flesh instead of the graphite sketch he was making.


“You’re suddenly not so worried about me talking screwing up the pose.”

Kaidan turned his head, casting his amber gaze over his shoulder at the young artist. After six sessions, Kaidan was too good a model to break the pose like that, he wanted to see BJ’s reaction.

“I think I’ve gotten a better handle on your body since the first session.”

Kaidan suddenly looked up from the data-pad, eyes tracking the couple that walked by on the park path. Head in his lap, Shepard opened his eyes, squinted up at Kaidan, then turned to see the couple that had passed.

“Another person? C’mon, Kaidan. We’re just getting to the good parts. You can’t pause every time somebody gets in ear-shot.”

Kaidan huffed, having caught site of a jogger coming up the path, now. They’d chosen a shady spot under a big cottonwood, and what was supposed to be ‘just a little picnic’ had turned into something else when Shepard had revealed the data-pad he’d brought with him.

As usual, Kaidan had complained, but once Ben had settled in, they found some kind of Model/Artist AU story about ‘Kaidan Alenko and BJ Shepard’.

“Well, we’re getting to the parts that feel really inappropriate to be reading in a public park.” The jogger actually sped up when he noticed Kaidan’s intense, perturbed stare.

Ben chuckled, bunched Kaidan’s shirt in his fingers and pulled Kaidan’s face down for a kiss while the jogger clomped into the distance.

“We good, now?” There was a sparkle in Ben’s eyes. Kaidan made a show of looking both ways, and even craning around to look on the other side of the big tree-trunk before reading again.

BJ immediately regretted his phrasing. He hid behind his sketch-pad when he felt the heat rising in his face, but not before he saw Kaidan shift his weight, the muscles firing in sequence, up his perfect calves, through his buttocks, twisting through the sinews in his back.

BJ felt the motion as if it were traveling up his own body, straight to his—

A dog-walker had appeared along the path in the distance.

Shepard was frowning before he even opened his eyes.


“We’ve read enough of these, you know what’s coming next,” Kaidan grumbled, glowering at the leisurely dog-walker.

“What does is matter if somebody hears us reading? It’s a beautiful day, nobody’s even going to notice us.”

“Good thing, too,” Kaidan jostled Shepard with his hip. “Half these stories have me as the pretty-boy already, reading a fictional version of my love-life has gotta be the height of narcissism.”

The dog-walker had stopped on the path and was allowing the curious dog to sniff at some flowers. Kaidan impatiently tapped his finger against the edge of the data-pad.

“You can just say you’re reading them for me,” Ben grinned. “I love hearing about my pretty boy. It’s hero-worship for me.”

Kaidan rolled his eyes, but looked away from the dog—that had begun yipping at them—and gave Shepard an incredulous look.

“After a corny line like that, I don’t know that anything I’m gonna read in here is going to be more embarrassing for someone to overhear.” He brushed the pad of his thumb over Ben’s lips and leaned down to give him another kiss.

Shenko - “Phantom Heart”

So @dustierhoades sent me a prompt off the mini-fic list for FShenko with “things you said under the stars and in the grass”.  (So stoked for prompts you have no idea how much I LOVE YOU RIGHT NOW!!!)  Okay. Going to be honest here.  My first thought was “What the fuck am I supposed to write to that?”  And then my second thought was “Oooh, I know”.  Thus, the birth of “Phantom Heart”.

And yeah, okay, let’s all pretend I purposely ignore the “mini” in mini-fic and don’t just accidentally word-vomit into oblivion.

Phantom Heart

           “What the hell are we doing, Kaidan?”

           He snorts beside her on the grass, glancing over to her.  “You told me you’d at least try it.”

           Shepard stretches on the cool lawn and looks from the stars overhead to his smiling face beside her.  “I am. This is me – trying.  I am so full of try right now, you have no idea.”

           He laughs, looking back up at the stars.  “Two minutes in and you’re already belly-aching.”

           Scoffing, Shepard looks skyward as well.  The night is breezy but not cold, and she can lie on the dewy grass of their backyard quite comfortably in her N7 sweats.  Her toes wiggle in the grass.  “You know I can’t sit still for long.”

           He chuckles.  “I’ve noticed.”

           “And you say you and your father used to do this all the time?  Star-gazing and all that?”


           “God, you two were boring.”

           “Hey,” he defends, gaze snapping sideways to her, but the playful smirk betrays any censure in his voice.  “I like to call it ‘contemplative’.  Maybe even ‘philosophical.”  His smirk blends into a grin.  

           She rolls her eyes, shifting next to him so that their shoulders are pressed together.  “’Contemplative’, ‘philosophical’, ‘boring’.  What’s the difference?”

           He nudges her shoulder, looking back to the stars.  “See if I ever share anything with you again.”

           “Oh don’t be like that,” she chides, stuffing her hands into her sweatshirt pockets.

           “Like what?”

           “Like a baby.”

           “You’re a charmer, you know that?”

           She beams.  “It’s why you married me.”

           “Yes, your winning personality is what drove me to this madness called love.” He throws a look her way, lips quirking up in an endearing taunt.  “And I say ‘madness’ only because ‘insanity’ would imply that there’s actually a sane way to love you somewhere out there.”

           She smacks his arm, never looking away from the night sky, and his responding laugh is warm in the cool air.  “Well, this ‘winning’ personality won the war, didn’t it?”

           Kaidan shrugs in the grass.  “Can’t argue with that.”

Keep reading

first impression

A/N: for @drinkyourjuicerodriguez as part of my 3k follower giveaway: the first time Kaidan and Shepard sparred on the Normandy, and they tailor their fighting style based on their first impression of the other. Enjoy! :D

When Kaidan reached the makeshift gym in the shuttle bay, he realized that it was already occupied. There were a couple of people he was completely fine sharing the gym with. Ashley was probably his top pick, because they could make fun of one another and challenge one another. She won more times than he cared to admit. Garrus and Wrex were okay too, but their workouts were mostly just punching things, or trying to wrestle one another. And for that, they certainly didn’t need a designated space. Tali and Liara were down here so infrequently that he didn’t really have a way to judge.

But Shepard… Shepard being down here was a little nerve wracking. It had happened maybe once before, but Ashley had been there. Ashley was always the best to break the ice and get casual conversation going. Of course, Kaidan could talk to her, and it was fine, but being alone with her… was a little scary. At least with Shepard, he knew she’d kick his ass.

Keep reading


My favoritest anon asked a while back how I thought a first kiss between Shepard and Kaidan might have gone. Thank you immensely for the prompt and I hope you enjoy my answer!

The Commander rubbed her forehead, completely immersed in thought as she made her way toward the Normandy. She was concerned about how this was all going to pan out. Anderson had determined it necessary to do something brash to free the frigate from the Citadel, and while Shepard agreed, the consequences for most of them were going to be severe once all was said and done.

The lone human Spectre was unexpectedly brought to a halt by a turian hand on each of her shoulders. He was staring down at her with an unnerving intensity, but over the relatively short time she’d been working with Garrus, she’d learned to read him a little better than most humans. The slight tilt of his head, the curved position of his shoulders, and the gentle pressure of his grip all hinted at his concern. He was waiting for her to do or say something.

“What?” She blinked at him in confusion. He didn’t often jump in front of her and stop her in her tracks, after all.

“We’ve been trying to talk to you ever since we left Flux,” Garrus responded. Shepard saw Kaidan step up beside them and nod in agreement.

“Sorry. I was just… thinking,” Shepard muttered, shrugging her shoulders and shaking her head.

Keep reading

wandering limbs

pairing: shepard x kaidan

rating: m

word count: 2,844

notes: …so this is my first fic in a while. hopefully i still have some modicum of talent. let me know if you like it uvu

summary: shepard corners kaidan for a quicke before one of her victory speeches, public sex ensues. pwp. 


Just the implication that someone might see or hear them arouses her all over again - she tries to suppress a shiver. She knows it’s gotten to him as well. He has a look in his eyes like he wants to devour her.


Keep reading

It doesn’t hit Shepard right away that Kaidan is from Vancouver. 

It takes a bit after the Normandy is safe and out of Earth’s atmosphere to realize that his home is burning to the ground. She remembers the way he’d talk about English Bay, growing up on the beach, but spending plenty of time at his grandparent’s orchard on the interior, and he’d tell her all the best places to eat in the city, though she doubted they’d survive long enough to get to try them.

He stood by her as the ship pulled away from the city, watching as Reapers burned and destroyed everything in their path. She was so focused on watching Anderson get to safety, watching survivors rushing off on shuttles as quick as they could - the boy… the little boy. She’d watched him blown to pieces. She didn’t notice Kaidan’s icy cold demeanor, terror coursing through him, his dark eyes watching every shuttle take off, probably praying his parents were on one. She didn’t notice until now.

Keep reading

jail break

Shepard never expected guests anymore. She figured if her life were at all normal, she would have family that would come check on her, or a sane group of friends that could come make sure she wasn’t trying to break imaginary women stuck in putrid colored wallpaper. But no. She was Commander Shepard. Nothing was normal, and there were hardly visitors.

Aside from Hackett coming by a couple of times to tell her how screwed they were for when the Reapers did arrive, and Anderson offering some fatherly support, it was just her, and James, and a tiny little room overlooking Vancouver.

“Shepard,” James said, the doors popping open. “Change into something better for warmer weather and meet me downstairs. You’re getting out of here for a bit.”

Keep reading

These One’s Accidental Wedding

Like most mornings, Shepard woke up to the smell of bacon sizzling on the griddle in their kitchen. There was also an overwhelming pleasant wave of homemade maple syrup and French toast wafting into their room. Kaidan liked breakfast, and he might have actually liked the act of making it more than eating it.

Shepard rolled over and groaned. And that was when she realized her entire body hurt. And that she wasn’t wearing her clothing. Well, not her clothing anyway. The shirt she was wearing was large and as orange as her hair, with gaudy hibiscus flowers all over the place. If she didn’t know any better, it might have been made for a Krogan.

She rubbed her eyes and tried to sit up, and immediately clobbered herself in the eye with something cold and metallic on her hand. Her eyes popped open again and she looked down at her hand. On her left ring finger, sat a shimmery, silver band, encrusted with gems from each Council home world.

Oh no.

Keep reading

daddydrack  asked:

In all honesty, not even butts can beat the voice of a character. They're always the first thing that I fall for.


It’s smooth like aged whisky. Rough and warm and slides down your soul in all the right ways. It’s raspy but hearty, expressive and deep.

His voice orbits your heart when he says, “I love you” and you hope he’s not like the moon, slowly achieving escape velocity. But rather like a satellite, locked in orbit and bound to fall down on you. It pulls at you like the tide and following the rhythms are as natural as breathing.

It’s aged and experienced, with an undercurrent of passion. A ribbon of raw excitement that vibrates the very atoms of your existence.

It drops down a register when he opens his heart. Huskier and raspier and it booms in your chest and constricts your lungs.

It matches the color of his eyes, warm amber like honey, and just as thick when he slips up.

Kaidan speaks like a lullaby that warms the embers of your soul. He barks like a wolf when he’s in command.

You don’t need to see the expressions on his face or read into his body language to know how he’s feeling or what he’s thinking, because the patterns are all there when he speaks, freely deciphered by anyone who knows his heart.

“Hey,” Kaidan whispered, kissing the side of her head. “Shepard… wake up.”

She rolled over and rubbed her eyes. Her legs were still knotted between the heavy blankets on top of her and she was almost too warm to move. She wasn’t sure how long she’d been out for. Kaidan had put her to sleep the night before, helping her limp to bed and holding ice packs against the afflicted areas. One wrong blow from a Cerberus Atlas had put her down for the night, and she had to skip out on crew bonding night, and Kaidan had stayed with her.

“What time is it?”

“It’s morning.”

Keep reading

The Life Cycle of Butterflies

Rating: G
Word Count: 3500
Summary: There’s a room in the house Shepard doesn’t know how to explain. 

This is my Shepard’s happy ending. He deserves it, dammit.

Happy Birthday, Shepard.  


He hears her tiny feet on the floor the moment he turns the coffee pot on. A small smile tugs at the corner of his lips, but when he sees a flash of blue skin dart past the entrance to the kitchen he pretends not to notice.

Instead he waits for the coffee to brew, then sits down at the kitchen table with a cup when it’s done – thick, strong and, as Alenko used to insist, unfit for human consumption. Watching the doorway out of his periphery, he uses his omnitool to activate the view panel’s datafeeds and open the shutters to let the morning sunlight stream in. For a moment he squints, and by the time his eyes adjust there is a small figure worming her way into the seat beside him.

“Well look who’s up early,” Shepard says, and slides his cup towards her in offering. She takes one sniff and wrinkles her nose.

“Gross,” she declares. “Mommy doesn’t know how you drink that stuff.”

He grins. “Mommy has bad taste in coffee.”

Her face crinkles in consternation, mouth opening to object before she screws it shut again and collapses her elbows on the table in a huff. Shepard’s grin widens. No one tells Amina that Liara is bad at anything, and there’s only one reason he’s getting away with it this morning.

“So?” he asks. “What has you up this early, Butterfly?”

Her shoulders hunch, a shy grin spreading across her face. She runs the fingers of one hand subconsciously along the rills of her crest, feet kicking under the table. “Happy birthday, Daddy.”

Shepard leans over and kisses her temple. “Thanks, kiddo.”

Keep reading

storyhoard  asked:

also! mshenko prompt: uhm. Warm places and happy endings and a beach with a bar.

Kaidan takes a pull off his beer, eyes drifting lazily around the beach.  White crested waves ride sapphire water as it rolls ashore and mingles with the white sand that lies in its path, the soothing sounds of its eternal ebb and flow reminding him a little of the drive core on the Normandy. But there definitely aren’t seagulls on the ship.

The sun is bright but not quite blinding, a few wisps of stray cloud drift across an otherwise clear sky, and the air smells so strongly of salt Kaidan can feel it seeping into his skin. A handful of lounge chairs lie scattered about, some occupied, some already claimed by towels and ostentatious beach bags. The resort is remote, even for Bora Bora, but Shepard has not gone unnoticed. A few tourists shift regular, furtive glances their way, though if Shepard has noticed he doesn’t let on. Instead he sits on the stool he’s claimed at the bar, glass of whisky in hand, eyes trained on the horizon, posture that of someone who has been told to relax but doesn’t really know how.  

He’s also still wearing a shirt, much to Kaidan’s disappointment, Alliance blue and stolen from Kaidan’s suitcase. The scars from Shepard’s stand on the Citadel are still raw enough and sharp enough that he doesn’t enjoy calling attention to them unless they’re alone.

At first Kaidan didn’t think Shepard was enjoying himself, but the skin at the corner of his eyes is smoother, his hands don’t fidget like normal, and rather than inhale the whisky he’s content to just sip at it. The signs may be subtle, but Kaidan has learned how to pick them out.

He doesn’t say much. Shepard is quieter these days, as if he’s used up most of his words on threats, diplomacy and speeches. Now that it’s over, time for someone else to do the talking. So Kaidan does. He talks about weather. The book he’s reading. The latest update from Tali on Rannoch. Laughs at Garrus’ dealings with turian bureaucracy, because guess who got stuck liaising between the turians and the new Krogan Empire.  

Shepard listens. Smiles. Occasionally interjects with a comment, sometimes just seeks out Kaidan’s hand and squeezes it tight. Right now they sit in peace, peace – Kaidan remembers when the concept seemed like a lie – listening to the waves stroke the shore, and Kaidan wonders at how the man beside him, who has always been so defined by frenetic movement, can be so still.

A breeze wanders by. Behind them on the other side of the bar comes the sound of clinking bottles. An asari wearing a silk sarong approaches and places an order, her gaze straying to Shepard as she waits for the bartender to make her drink. She doesn’t say anything – thankfully – and within short order she takes a glass with something red inside of it, topped with a pineapple slice and a green umbrella, and heads back to her lounge chair. Kaidan watches her go, or more accurately, he watches the umbrella.  

“I feel like we’re not blending in.”

Shepard looks over at him in mild amusement. “What do you mean?”

Kaidan waves an arm. “We might be the only two people in this place without an umbrella in our drink.”

Shepard follows his gaze, noting that even though the population is sparse, the ratio of umbrellas to beverages is exorbitantly high. Without a word he gets up, turns, leans over the counter and nabs two umbrellas from the bartender’s stash tucked under the ledge of the bar. He plinks a blue one down in Kaidan’s beer, a red one in his whisky.


Kaidan grins. “Much.”

The bartender, a well-tanned kid who has been trying not to stare ever since they sat down, gingerly picks up the container of umbrellas and sets it up on the bar. “T..take as many as you want, Commander,” he manages.

Shepard nods and tips his glass in thanks. The bartender nearly faints, and quickly busies himself wiping down glasses. Kaidan hides a smile. As soon as the kid’s shift ends everyone he knows is going to find out he spent the afternoon serving drinks to the Savior of the Galaxy.

“Wanna go for a walk?” Shepard asks, impervious.

“Sure,” Kaidan answers, surprised at the suggestion. Though Shepard hides it well, the reconstruction Miranda did on his left leg still causes him enough pain that his physical therapists stopped referring to him as the Savior of the Galaxy in favor of That Pain in the Ass in Room 212.

But today must be a good day. Shepard takes him by the hand and strolls to the shoreline. Kaidan’s eyes stray from the blue water to the palm trees and tropical vegetation layering the gently rising hill behind them. The resort cabins blend right into the bright, floral foliage. He makes a mental note to thank Liara for finding the perfect spot to relax. Heal. Rest.

For the first time their future isn’t uncertain. He doesn’t go to sleep at night mentally calculating how much time they have left, constantly worrying that he’s let some moment slip past, didn’t enjoy it to its fullest or appreciate it enough. He doesn’t have to wake up in the morning wondering if they’re out of tomorrows.

He glances sideways at Shepard. Remembers the finality in his eyes. The stiff armored gauntlet against his cheek.

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

He lets out a shaky breath as Shepard stoops to pick up something nestled in the sand. On his way back up he grimaces, and Kaidan offers a steadying hand, thankful that Shepard was distracted enough not to notice his maudlin slip.

Shepard brushes the sand off of whatever he’s found and holds it up.

It’s a seashell. Perfect scalloped shape, brushed with gold and violet hues. Shepard’s lips twist in a bittersweet smile that Kaidan doesn’t understand.

“You ok?”

Shepard brushes his thumb across the shell’s ridges, then tucks it securely into the pocket of his swim trunks.

“Yeah,” he replies after a moment, then turns with a conviction in his eyes Kaidan hasn’t seen yet in the months since the reapers’ fell. “Everything’s good.”

Shepard takes Kaidan by the hand, tugs him closer and leans in to murmur in his ear.

“I’m not going anywhere.”

Kaidan smiles. “I know. I love you.”

“I love you, too.” 

Kaidan Appreciation Week Day 1: Family.

“They’re going to hate me. They’re going to absolutely hate me. Mark my words,” Shepard muttered to herself, looking in the mirror in the shuttle just one more time. She knew she looked fine, and her hair certainly hadn’t moved from its position before, and there were literally no changes to note. But she felt like she had to be doing something with her hands or… something. Something to keep her from looking as jumpy as she felt.

“Shepard, please,” Kaidan said, glancing out the window. “It’s going to be absolutely fine.”

Shepard felt better equipped to throw herself at the mother of all thresher maws or a charging brute than do what they were about to do. Because then, the worst consequence could probably be fixed with medi-gel. This could not.

Keep reading