#and then wednesday i will go to [redacted] which will be good but exhausting again | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

alphacrone · 7 years

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bitty dates anonther falconer au

so the graduation kiss doesn’t happen

and bitty tries to move on and jack goes onto join the falconers

and there’s some falcs family get-together early on in the pre-season and bob and alicia can’t make it for Reasons

so jack invites his other family

which -- is sort of a terrible idea bc Tater’s flying solo so he adopts Ransom and Holster and shenanigans happen immediately

(think Tater and Bitty doing lifts on the ice but with ransom and holster and alcohol)

and shitty’s hanging all over jack because they haven’t seen each other in weeks and he introduces himself to everyone as jack’s brother -- “but not like a lame- ass biological brother, a brother of the heart” -- and lardo’s somehow got all these falcs rookies following her around like little ducklings

so bits is kind of off by himself, hovering near the refreshments to monitor which pies are most popular

(he might be distancing himself from jack on purpose. he might be trying to move on. it might be really hard.)

one of the rookies (is it poots? probably) comes up to grab a HUGE ASS slice from the peach pie and makes really inappropriate noises while shoveling it down

“dude this shit is SO GOOD,” he says, then realizes he’s talking to a really cute guy and tries to remember what manners are. “um, hey, i’m ian”

“b- eric. and thank you, i worked hard on that pie”

and ian’s all DUDE NO SHIT REALLY and, again, remembers he’s talking to a really cute guy who probably is attracted to normal human beings and adds, “so, you here with zimmermann’s crew?”

and b’s all, “yeah, jack’s one of my best friends, we were so excited he asked us to come, blah blah blah”

so meanwhile jack’s been feeling weird all afternoon and it’s not just because shitty’s been forced to keep his clothes on. he realizes, sort of belatedly, it’s because he’s barely seen bittle all day. he doesn’t Like That.

jack drops shitty off with lardo (who is regaling all these wide-eyed teenage guys with stories of her kegster victories while george looks on, impressed)

and he wanders over to find bittle in stitches as ian tells him some story from juniors

and jack’s not jealous. why would he be? bittle makes friends the way other people breathe -- constantly and naturally. jack is a little sad bittle would rather talk to some rando than him, but he tries not to think about that.

the samwell crew crashes at jack’s “’swawesome bachelor pad” that night, shitty in jack’s bed, bitty and lardo in the guest room, ransom and holster on the pull-out in the living room

except- shitty disappears early on into the evening and bittle slips into jack’s room before midnight, incredibly cranky, and flops onto the empty side of jack’s bed, half-asleep

“i’ve been sexiled,” he grumbles, shoving his phone onto the bedside table and sighing loudly. “burn your guest room sheets in the morning.”

jack laughs and turns over to face bittle, whose eyes keep fluttering open and shut, nose scrunched up in annoyance. it’s the cutest fucking thing jack’s ever seen.

bittle’s phone lights up and bittle grabs at it blindly, huffing in laughter as he reads the message.

“ian,” he clarifies, when jack asks who would be texting him at this hour. “we exchanged numbers before he went home”

again, nothing jack should be jealous of. he and bittle text all the time. but they had to build up to that, when they first actually became friends, texting only for class- and practice-related things, then when bittle was drunk, then on roadies when they were at separate ends of the bus, eventually reaching their best friend-level of texting-

jack wasn’t jealous that a stranger was already at the midnight-texting friendship level with bittle. why would he be jealous?

before he can ask about it, though, bittle’s asleep, on top of the covers and clutching his phone. jack bites his lip and sets bittle’s phone aside and very, very carefully pulls the throw blanket from down by his feet over bittle, so he doesn’t get cold in the middle of the night.

in the morning, when the samwell crew leaves, jack hugs bittle just a little tighter than normal, a little bit longer. he’s not sure why. it just feels right.

so flash forward, and bittle starts coming down to providence pretty frequently. sometimes it’s to visit a cousin at brown (freshman, right outta georgia, not adapting as quickly as bittle did, needs a familiar face every now and then) and sometimes it’s to visit jack. he hangs out with ian quite a bit, which jack thinks is weird and isn’t jealous of at all.

but he loves having bittle around, no matter the reason, so jack doesn’t look this gift horse too closely in the mouth.

towards the end of the semester, bittle starts to get really stressed-looking. jack doesn’t see him as much, as busy as they both are, but he texts bittle constantly with little reminders throughout the day: drink plenty of water, try to get a little sleep, ransom does yoga at the fitness center on wednesdays you should join him, take a break from baking to go over your flashcards, call me if you want me to quiz you on french i’m free for a bit, etc. etc.

there’s one evening in particular where jack’s getting off the plane after a series of away games and ian’s listening to an upset voicemail from bittle and is visibly upset himself.

and jack can hear him saying something like “eric, please talk to me... can i come down tomorrow? i think we need to talk.”

and, still visibly upset, ian gets in his car to go home and jack gets in his to do the same but he- he can’t stop thinking about bittle. bittle never gets upset enough about anything to call someone. ever.

so jack “110% even at friendship” zimmermann speeds up to samwell and sneaks into the (unlocked) haus, dripping wet, and knocks quietly on bittle’s door.

and bittle is fucking floored and jack’s only real explanation was “ian said you were upset about something” and he’s absolutely tackled into a full-on bittle bear hug. (tiny bear hug. koala bear hug)

(and lord is jack making it hard not to be in love with him.)

he still crashes in bittle bed that night, in a pair of holster’s sweatpants bittle stole from the laundry, and bittle doesn’t tell him specifically what’s wrong but he cries a little, mostly over jack being there, and falls asleep with his head on jack’s shoulder so jack thinks he probably did something right.

and then.

he and bittle are hanging out one evening not long after that and there’s a knock on the door and it’s ian and, okay, jack likes the guy, he’s a team player and works really hard, even if he isn’t the most skilled rookie, but this is jack’s time with bittle, why is he here?

but bittle suddenly has this really nervous look on his face and ian is practically shaking and they sit down on the couch next to jack and ian says, “s-so, um, jack. me and eric- we’re um. we’re dating. have been for a while. we wanted you to be the first to know, knew we could trust you with this.”

and OH. jack’s sort of thrown for a loop, so it takes him a minute to respond, and ian’s getting paler and paler and bittle looks like he’s going to bite through his own lip and jack manages to say something supportive and bland, just to get bittle to smile in relief.

and he is supportive. he’s always been supportive of bittle’s dating misadventures. and he understands why they’ve kept it a secret it all semester, even if it’s clearly the thing that upset bittle so much.

but he’s also jealous. and it’s pretty hard to deny any more. but ian’s a decent dude and clearly cares about bittle so jack tries to tamp down those ugly feelings and claps them both on the back and thanks them for trusting him.

ian chooses not to come out to any other falcs only george. he’s mostly friends with the other rookies and they’re all young and cocky and...well, the ones making most of the questionable jokes in the locker room.

(i imagine there’s a fun moment when ian’s coming out to george where she’s all “oh, bittle? speedy little guy” and ian has no idea Why or How she knows that until he remembers that she would’ve watched his boyfriend’s tapes pretty closely while recruiting zimmboni)

(i also imagine a SUPER FUN moment when he comes out to her where he sort of chokes on his words and accidentally says “i’m dating zimmermann...’s friend, eric” and for a terrifying second george has to prepare herself for two of her boys dating each other)

and because ian doesn’t know the samwell crew, bittle doesn’t tell them about it at all. jack is his only friend with whom he can talk about ian.

so jack hears it all, the good, the bad. (luckily, not the gory details. southern gentlemen do not [REDACTED] and tell)

in the spring, things seem to get worse between ian and bittle. they’re both busier and there’s a lot of phone tag and missed connections and jack can see ian getting visibly frustrated with it. there are a few times he sees ian, when they’re out with the guys, straight-up declining bittle’s calls.

he tries to stay out of it. jack’s an adult, he doesn’t meddle or intervene in other people’s business. but. but. this is bittle. bittle’s happiness is more important to jack than almost anything.

(and wow that’s a lot for a guy who only recently realized he wanted to be bittle’s secret NHL boyfriend. but he’s an all-in kind of guy.)

around february (valentine’s day??) they have two off days in a row and jack’s pretty exhausted so he opts to spend it on his couch with microwaved pad thai and netflix documentaries. that is, until there’s a knock on his door.

and bittle’s there, tears on his cheeks, looking smaller and more vulnerable than jack’s ever seen him, babbling on and on incoherently. jack ushers him in and gets him tissues and a beer and manages to put together that ian broke up with bittle.

(which??? what a fucking idiot??? who even does that?? he’s bittle???)

and jack more or less says that. “why would he break up with you?” he genuinely asks. “you’re amazing.”

and bittle cries again and says something about the stress of hiding their relationship and not making their schedules line up and all jack can think is that if he had the chance with bittle, he’d do the fucking work to make that relationship solid, to make it work. he’s now rethinking his opinions on ian’s work ethic.

and pretty much jack plies bittle with beer and microwaved food and television and lets him rest his head in jack’s lap and strokes his hair all evening and tells him he’s way too good for ian.

(his mother was in a series of hit teen romances back in her day and jack maybe learned too much about dealing with boys and breakups from watching them as a child.)

part of jack thinks that this breakup will be the end of bittle coming down to providence every free weekend. but it isn’t, and he certainly doesn’t question it the next time bittle shows up at his place rambling on about wanting to check out a new patisserie downtown.

they eat too much and wander around the city talking about everything. that evening they take out indian food for dinner and jack runs through flash cards with bittle, then drives him home in time to join a party going on in their living room.

(jack crashes in bittle’s bed again. but it’s different, now that they’re both single and jack knows he’s in love. but it’s too soon and bittle probably not interested, so he falls asleep watching the rise and falls of bittle’s chest.)

things continue on like this all semester. sometimes jack brings tater to hang out at the haus. sometimes lardo comes with bittle to visit jack. luckily, ian isn’t a star player, so his name isn’t brought up too often around the haus to upset bittle (and how could it when there’s a literal shrine to mashkov being built in the living room, over the TV)

so the falcs are playing [insert team] here during the cup play offs or whatever (lol they play hockey in this comic what?) and jack gets checked mega hard, real bad, there’s blood and shit, definitely a concussion, maybe broken ribs and all that jazz. bad enough that everyone takes a knee and jack’s taken to the hospital.

(is that a thing in hockey? in lacrosse you gotta take a knee when someone’s really hurt but that sounds hard on skates idk)

ANYWAY jack’s out for the game (season?) and like he’s gonna be fine but there’s blood and bitty loses his shit

i’m talking, he’s fucking calling ian to make sure jack’s okay, ian whom he hasn’t spoken to since the breakup. luckily, they’re playing close by (providence? boston? idk how playoffs work, if they play in their home arenas or not) ANYWAY close enough that the samwell crew packs into holster’s mom-van and roadtrips to the hospital

they try to convince the nurses they’re jack’s family but like...no

shitty meets them there and is on the phone with bob, the only person who is at all calm because he knows these types of injuries well

and george is in the lobby and she sees bittle and has heard enough from both jack and ian that she likes the kid and manages to get him back to see jack (without his loud and huge cohort, unfortunately)

and bits cries the moment he sees jack in that hospital bed, even though he’s totally fine, bittle, don’t worry about it, just some cracked ribs and a concu-

he’s cut off by bittle kissing him, more out of relief than anything, because if jack is chirping him then he’s not dying and before bittle can realize what he’s done jack is reaching up and pulling him back in, kissing him as soundly as one with a moderate to severe concussion can.

and so since jack’s out for the rest of playoffs (and the falcs don’t make it much further without their lead scorer) he spends quite a bit of time, um, recuperating in bittle’s bed at samwell, and then in providence as bittle finds a last minute internship there for the summer.

so it starts about a year later, but it’s still the zimbits we know and love. but they’re a little more prepared. (jack has a fucking gameplan, based on everything that went wrong with ian. he’s got schedules for their skype dates. he’s ready to make this thing work forever)

(and it does.)

#zimbits #check please!#otp: hit me like a ray of sun #anna writes things

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star-trekkin-across-theuniverse · 7 years

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Resource Management, pt11

Word Count: 2467 Tags: @supermoonpanda @rayleyanns @sistasarah-sallysaidso @feelmyroarrrr @anyakinamidala @dirajunara @anotherotter @little-study-bug @rampant-salamander @goodnightwife @samaxraph99 @anotherotter @outside-the-government @kingarthurscat @coyote-in-space @originalpottervengerlock @dolamrothianlady @curiositywillbethedeathofme @superheroesofbothuniverses @mtriestowrite @wanderingkat77

Saturdays were meant for sleeping in. For recovering from a hangover. For pancakes or bacon and eggs. Saturdays were never intended for a six a.m. run. Regardless, I dragged myself out of bed to my alarm and pulled on my running clothes. Phil rolled over and stretched.

“Where are you going?” He asked through a yawn.

“For a run.” I sat on the edge of the bed and laced my shoes up. He popped up beside me and kissed the nape of my neck.

“Wait five minutes, I’ll come with you,” he offered.

“Can’t. Meeting someone.” I leaned over and kissed him. “I’ll be an hour. Don’t go.”

Phil pulled me back into bed on top of him, and then rolled over and pinned me. He kissed the spot below my ear that he’d discovered made me pretty much do whatever was demanded of me.

“Stay,” he murmured. I groaned and pushed him away.

“I told you last night about the crazy. Lex is the only person I’ve been allowed to choose, Phil. I don’t want to mess it up by ditching her for our first run.” I sat up and finished tying my shoes. I slipped my apartment key into my pocket and headed out to meet the good doctor in the park.

It was a beautiful morning. On any other day, I would have been thrilled to be up in it. But it was Saturday. I sat down on the bench where I’d agreed to meet Lex, and was so happy that I’d told Phil he couldn’t come when she approached. Captain Rogers was with her.

“Good morning, Anna. You look doubtful,” she smiled.

“I forgot that today was Saturday when I agreed to meet you,” I laughed. “Rookie mistake.”

“This is Steve. Steve, this is Anna. She’s in HR.” Lex squinted in thought. “That’s right, isn’t it?”

I nodded as Steve shook my hand. He was super fine. Everything was big and muscle-y and strong. I felt a little tongue-tied.

“A pleasure, Anna. I’ve heard of you. Director Fury was very impressed with the information you had on the attack.”

“Oh, uh. Yeah. Thanks,” I stumbled.

“Okay, Steve, you promised you would go on your own run. She doesn’t need Captain fucking America looming over her shoulder while she’s running intervals.” Lex smacked his butt and sent him off. I couldn’t help but giggle. I liked her. She was irreverent.

“That would have been super uncomfortable. Thanks. It’s bad enough I have been assigned Barton and Romanoff for part of my training,” I thanked her.

“Training?” Lex looked up from tying her shoe.

“Because of the nature of the attack, as director of HR, Fury has decided that I need to have full operations agent competencies,” I explained.

“Say nothing else. I totally understand. But Tasha and Clint are cool. They’re very competitive with one another and like to play tricks. It can be very fun to be in on the game. And Tasha whipped me into shape really quickly with my hand-to-hand. She’s incredible. I sucked. Now I can take Steve down, if I take him by surprise,” she reassured me. “Well, sort of. There’s more than Romanoff’s training at play these days.”

She looked a little haunted, but I didn’t think we knew each other well enough for me to press. She ran me through some pre-run stretching, and explained the mechanics of the stretches, and which muscle groups would be helped by what exercises. Then promptly told me that she would go over it again when we finished running. She started us at a pace that was slower than I usually ran. When I commented, she explained that running slower, as long as it was comfortable, would help my endurance more than running faster would. About midway through the run, she told me I needed to keep up. Until then, I had been keeping up, so I was confused, until she sprinted away from me. I ran as fast as I could to catch up. A few seconds after, she slowed down, barely winded. I was gasping for air. We returned to the slow pace again, and again, she warned me to keep up and then sprinted away from me. She did that to me around ten times, and then slowed us down to a brisk walk for the last five minutes.

“What was with the sprinting?” I asked when I caught my breath.

“High intensity intervals help improve your cardio endurance, and strengthens you faster,” she explained. “If you need to be field capable, we need to whip you into shape quick. What’s your sport?”

“I’ve studied a number of martial arts disciplines,” I answered, still feeling my heart pound in my chest.

“Cool. Mine has always been running. And Archery. And I played a little hockey when I was a kid, but who doesn’t?” I knew it was a rhetorical question, but I smiled nonetheless.

“Hockey was never my sport. I mean, shinny, sure. Street hockey every summer until the sun went down. But I lived in hockeyville, and just got oversaturated, I guess.”

Lex shot me a look of confusion and then shrugged it off as we approached the bench we’d started from. She ran me through the stretches again, and when we were done, I sat down on the bench, exhausted.

“So how about we meet Monday, Wednesday and Fridays at this time. We’ll alternate weekend days from week to week, but we’ll do an evening run on those days. That leaves you Tuesday and Thursdays for something else. Weights maybe.” Lex flopped down next to me. She had a strange scar on her inner arm that I hadn’t noticed before.

“That looks like it was painful,” I commented.

“It sucked, not gonna lie,” she agreed. “Can I ask you something?”

“Sure,” I shrugged.

“You’re obviously from home. Where?” She asked.

“BC. You?”

“Calgary,” she replied. “There’s Steve.”

I looked up, and Steve was headed toward us. He looked like he was forcing himself to run at a normal pace. Which he probably was. He probably could run as fast as a car if the opportunity presented itself.

“You gals done?” He asked. I nodded. My shirt had a boob-sweat stain on it. He smiled like he hadn’t noticed. He might not have. Lex was pretty stunning, and she wasn’t a sweaty disgusting mess like I was.

“Got another five in you, babe?” Lex asked him. “See you Monday, Anna?”

“You bet. Thanks, Lex.” I headed back toward my apartment, turning once to watch Lex and Steve disappearing down the same path I’d just run, but at a much swifter pace.

My apartment smelled like bacon when I got back. I peered into the kitchen and saw Phil dropping slices onto a piece of paper towel. I groaned. I was not going to be virtuous and eat something healthy, I was totally going to eat the bacon. And after that super hard run, I almost wanted to be virtuous.

“Stop glaring at me. It’s the weekend. You’re allowed bacon on the weekend.” Phil didn’t even look up from the pan.

“I’m going to take a shower,” I grumbled, my mouth watering. I leaned into the kitchen and stole a piece of bacon from the paper towel before heading to the bathroom.

“How do you like your eggs?” He called.

“Over-easy. Unfertilized,” I replied, and shut the bathroom door. I could hear him laughing as I turned the water on.

“So, how was the run?” Phil handed me a plate as I sat down at the table.

“I met your boyfriend,” I teased. “So good thing I didn’t let you tag along.”

“Captain Rogers is your running buddy?” Phil looked confused.

“No. His girlfriend is.” I dipped my toast in my egg yolk. They were perfectly cooked. Phil ate without saying anything. He slipped his hand onto mine on the table as we sat, finishing our coffee. A sharp knock on my door startled us both. He tilted his head in question.

“Expecting anyone?” He asked. I shook my head. His hand slid to his hip. I hadn’t realized he was wearing his sidearm. I gave him a dirty look.

“Because you needed to wear that in my kitchen?” I asked.

“You won’t be criticizing me if the person at the door is unfriendly,” he shot back in a low tone. I rolled my eyes and went to the door, opening it as far as the security chain would allow. There was a guy standing there, with his back to me, in a SHIELD uniform. I cleared my throat and he spun around. My shoulders dropped once I recognized him.

“Anna Ellis?” He asked. I nodded. “Clint Barton. I’m your new range coach. Fury said I should stop by this morning and get you out on the range on account of you sucking.”

“Agent Barton. Nice to meet you,” I said, loudly enough that I knew Phil would hear. From the corner of my eye, I could see Phil dashing toward my bedroom, carrying his dirty plate and coffee cup. I closed the door and unlatched the chain slowly, waiting to hear the click of my bedroom door closing before I opened the front door again. I gestured to Barton to come inside, and he stepped through the door cautiously, his eyes seeking out all the possible exit points, and hiding spots for bad guys. I held my breath when his eyes lit on my bedroom door, but he just stepped past me into the kitchen.

“Can I get you a coffee?” I offered.

“Sure. We should probably have a conversation before we leave for the range.” He sat down in Phil’s chair. I poured a coffee and handed it to him, pointing at the cream and sugar on the table as I cleared my breakfast dishes away.

“Do you mind if I wash up while we chat?” I asked. He shook his head.

“What’s your experience?” He asked.

“My week at the academy two weeks ago,” I responded, scrubbing up the frying pan.

“And before that?”

“No weapons experience at all,” I replied.

“Are you fucking kidding me?” He exclaimed. “So you’re completely green?”

“I’ve had a really good instructor,” I shot back, defending Phil.

“And who was that? I tried to pull your training docs but there’s a bunch of info redacted or missing.” He asked.

“Melinda May, mostly,” I lied.

“Anyone else? She was listed in there, but there was some redacted information too.”

“Nope. Just May,” I affirmed, feeling nervous. I finished washing up.

“Where’s your sidearm. Let’s get it and go over it.” He stood.

“I’ll grab it. It’s in my bedroom.” I held a hand up.

“I’m here to train you, Ellis, not seduce you.” He cocked an eyebrow at me. “I can come to your bedroom without it being a problem.”

“Regardless, Agent Barton, my mother raised me to not entertain men in my bedroom, so if it’s all the same to you, wait here please,” I shot back. “For the record, you’re not my type.”

“Yeah, I heard you like older guys.” He was snarky. As a general rule, I liked snarky. I wasn’t sure about this snarky though. “Stark seems to think –“

“Stark?” I laughed. “Also not my type.”

I headed toward my bedroom quickly.

“Yeah, I was going to say. Stark seems to think you’ve got it bad for Thor,” he laughed. I stopped partway down the hall and turned around.

“That is a silly workplace crush. And means nothing.” I could feel my cheeks flushing. Barton smirked, revealing a deep dimple. Damn. Were all the Avengers pretty? I turned away and stomped into my bedroom. Phil was smirking from the bed and shaking his head. My gun case was sitting beside him. He stole a quick kiss as I leaned over to grab the case.

“He’s not wrong. You do like older men,” he whispered. I rolled my eyes.

“I like you, Phil. That doesn’t mean I’d like another guy your age just because he was your age,” I whispered back. “Will you be back tonight?”

“Should be. Text me when you’re free.” He pulled me close for a quick kiss. I picked up the gun case and headed back to the kitchen.

“So show me what you know about this sidearm, Ellis,” Barton demanded. I opened the case, and pulled it out, and went through all the parts, how to load it, how to unload it, the safety, the sights. I pointed to the holster.

“And that’s my shoulder holster. I’ve been informed by Agent May that it’s not available in pink,” I finished. Barton looked me in the eye, then smirked again.

“It’s a start. Put it on, grab your ammo. Let’s go.” He rose and put his coffee cup in the sink while I slid the shoulder holster on. I pulled on a light jacket and grabbed my purse before following him out the door.

“I’ll be right back. I forgot my phone.” I turned around and dashed down to my bedroom to grab my phone. I pulled my spare key off the key ring and handed it to Phil, kissing him goodbye one more time. Barton was waiting in the hall for me as I locked up.

“You know, you could have just said your boyfriend was over,” he commented. My heart nearly stopped.

“What are you talking about?” I followed him down the stairs.

“You wouldn’t let me into your bedroom out of some misguided notion of propriety, you conveniently forgot your phone, and you just came out with half a keychain less than you went back inside with,” he said. “Not to mention the chair I sat in was warm, but your dishes were in front of your chair, your mouth is bruised like you’ve been getting rowdy, and his shoes were at the front door. It’s okay to have a social life. I just don’t get why you would need to hide it.”

“Office romance. Against protocol.” My response was probably too quick.

“No, relationships between you and your S.O. are against protocols. You can bounce anyone you want who has a badge as long as they aren’t your supervising officer. And despite your thing for old guys, I doubt Fury is hiding in your bedroom,” he corrected.

“What?”

“Well, Fury is your S.O., isn’t he?” He asked.

“Yes.” I felt a shudder of revulsion as I realized what he was getting at.

“My point is, I don’t care who you’re fucking, Ellis. As long as it doesn’t compromise your ability to be available for training.” Barton’s tone was final. I didn’t respond, but just got into the SHIELD vehicle and put my seatbelt on.

#avengers fanfic #avengers fanfic with OFC #Phil Coulson x OFC

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