#MULTICHAPTERED FANFICTION

[riversimmone]

Three's A Crowd - Chapter 13

Summary:

SasuSaku. He didn't mean to kill that man. He had simply reacted to being attacked. And now Konoha is forced to hunt down the rogue members of Team 7, or risk open war. Eventual NaruHina.

XXX

Read from the beginning. This is a work in progress story you can find on tumblr and AO3 and completed on FF.NET.

[All tumblr posts will be tagged ‘Three’s A Crowd’ with their corresponding chapter for quick and easy access.]

Enjoy. :)

Kumogakure was situated in a range of mountains, earning the literal meaning for its name: Village Hidden by Clouds. Sakura wasn't afraid of heights, not really, but aside from the breath taking view, it left her feeling a little giddy. She had not anticipated the arrival of Kumogakure ninja to her door, so she'd only managed to grab her half empty bag before making a dash out the window. Her journal was in the bag, as were a number of clothes, but she was leaving behind other personal items too – a brooch from her grandmother on her father's side, her mother's opal pendant, her hitai-ate… not to mention her nebúkuro (sleeping bag).

That was a mistake. Leaving behind those items saved her life in the short term, but they had her scent on them, as well as Sasuke's, and probably Naruto's as well. It was an inexcusable mistake: one that was going to bite her in the ass.

Sakura followed the winding roads of Kumo and kept to the sides of buildings as she went, wondering what had happened to Sasuke and Naruto. They were late in switching shifts with her and instead of them, cloud ninja had come calling instead. She pulled the hood of her shirt out from under her jacket to cover her hair – dressed like a civilian, it was the quickest way to hide any identifying characteristics the ninja might already know about her. If Sāmu hadn't been lying, then the Raikage was looking for a pink haired Kunoichi, not a drab looking, sulking girl walking around on her own.

Of course, this only made her fears for Sasuke and Naruto heighten, especially at the sight of several ANBU squads passing nearby who sounded like they were rushing toward something. She glanced upward, toward the large blue building that housed the Raikage and turned away from it. The closer she had absentmindedly gotten to it, the more ninja there were. They were definitely looking for someone, and focusing their attention closest to the mountain peak on which the Raikage's Office Building was perched.

Did they think Kitsúne was in Kumo to assassinate A?

Sakura found it hard to believe anyone could be that stupid… except, it did happen. She made her way closer to the civilian homes and found an empty house to hole up in temporarily while she figured out how to find her boys.

X X X

It was almost sundown by the time ANBU guards returned to the waiting room to retrieve the Konoha representatives. Kakashi Hatake did not consider himself to be a politically minded man by instinct, though he knew the 'dos and don'ts' of that world and what to expect when walking into a diplomatic arena – with familiar or unfamiliar relations. With enemies, the situation was never predictable, but with allies, he could at least fall back on the treaty, even if he didn't personally put much stock in it. He could work the system to suit the needs of the mission, carefully though, to not arouse distrust. In the end, he would still retain whatever protection the treaty offered for foreign Shinobi, as long as he didn't start attacking everyone in sight. The treaty was just words on a piece of paper after all.

Figure heads such as the Raikage however, needed to follow it to the letter; and he did, despite his normally brutish nature. But he could theoretically push that blurred line between friendship and all out war, yet such a move from someone so publically conspicuous without provocation was a dangerous game. It made Kakashi wonder, as he walked the hallways, alongside Hinata, Shino, Kiba, and Akamaru, what it was that the Raikage had been expecting with their arrival here. Did he know about Kitsúne? Did he have information on the assassination of the fire Daimyo's brother? Would he be angry at their presence so soon after these peculiar events had happened?

Kakashi barely remembered what the Raikage looked like. It wasn't like he'd been in a position to memorise the features of that buffed up gorilla the last time he was here. A was a beast in appearance, with yellowish-white hair, a small moustache and beard, and the copy ninja often wondered if his roguish appearance was the reason he allowed the more erotic night clubs in Kumo to stay in business, even though all other ninja villages were strict about seedy establishments. Silently, Kakashi decided this Kage was a man who had trouble wooing woman without throwing his weight (or money) around.

Once they were bade to enter, A immediately noticed the only girl in the leaf team – it was rumoured he had a fascination with the goings on of the Hyuuga clan.

Once the etiquette of introductions and protocol for discussing their official reason for being here were over, the Raikage got right down to business. He sat in his chair, while an assistant took notes and two nearby ninja – Kakashi remembered their names were Darui and C – watched the leaf ninja carefully: said Konoha ninja remained standing. Finally, after talking for ten minutes about their treaty and the promises Tsunade had made to A when she had been officially named as the fifth Hokage, the bulking man voiced his main concern.

"I have been authorised by the Lightning Daimyo to extend an agreement with the leaf in conjunction with your Feudal Lord. This new treaty will include your assistance in tracking down rogue ninja in the vicinity of Kumogakure."

"And in return?" Kakashi asked, knowing the Raikage was trying to avoid a two sided deal.

A growled, gritting his teeth as he spoke the words the Lightning Daimyo had demanded he say. "We will withdraw the troops currently stationed on your side of the border to the land of rivers."

"Boss?" Darui asked languidly.

A stared angrily at Kakashi, ignoring Darui's concerns. "I think it's about time the leaf village put all their cards on the table. We all have our theories on who Kitsúne is, and they've assassinated the brother of your daimyo. They've also been spotted near Kumo, so there's no doubt in my mind they're heading here. Who would you think they're coming here to kill, copy ninja?"

"If assassination is their plan," Kakashi said logically, "then there's no telling. The skills and abilities of Kitsúne are unknowns, so there's no way of telling what kind of opponent they could be after."

"Spoken like true Konoha dogs," C snarled.

"Enough," A snapped at his blonde companion, who hastily shut his mouth and lowered his eyes respectfully. The Raikage clenched his fists, looking ready to pulverize the unruffled copy ninja. He wanted to pull the Menpo off the man's lower face and pummel that uncaring attitude right off of him. But this was one of the rare occasions where he was willing to admit that force was out of the question.

"You came here without intent to harm," he stated, keeping his voice low, "so I will show you the same respect. But make no mistake, you will help us track down Kitsúne, no matter who they turn out to be. I will send ANBU with you, along with C – an actual sensor should hasten the search."

"Is that really necessary?" C asked. He didn't trust Konoha ninja. And even if he wasn't allowed to attack them, did he really have to follow them?

"Yes," A said. "Split your team up Hatake – I'm sure you'll want someone from Konoha in whichever team it is that finds the criminals."

Kakashi nodded to his team. His gaze lingered minutely on Shino, whose response was a slight inclination of his head. He understood: Team Guy needed to be told of the situation. Wherever they were currently holding up, only Shino and his Kikaichū knew. And the easiest way to get this over and done with as quickly as possible was to split up, as the Raikage suggested. Hinata followed two Kumo ANBU, glancing back at her teammates one last time before they also found themselves partnered with unfamiliar and taciturn Shinobi of the hidden cloud village.

'Divide and conquer.'

X X X

Her time was up. Sakura left the civilian home once she realised its owners were back and was forced out of the area when a Shinobi patrol came close to her. She couldn't risk being found, but it was grating on her nerves, trying to figure out what to do now.

Then she realised: she was looking for the wrong trail. Instead of trying to find Sasuke and Naruto, she should've been looking for that informant of Orochimaru's, Sāmu. There was one place she knew that he would return to and that was the night club, Silken Heat. But this time, she had no intention of going in; keeping her eyes peeled for where Sasuke and Naruto might be lurking as they watched their target, she kept her hands in her pockets, shifting the bag on her shoulder uncomfortably. A pang of grief at the loss of the rest of her stuff cut at her, but there was nothing she could do about that, for now.

Sakura paused at the feel of familiar chakra. Before today, she would never have given this chakra the time of day. The Kumogakure ninja who had first gone to Naruto's empty room (she wasn't sure why) before knocking down hers, were nearby. She didn't hasten her pace – she couldn't without drawing attention to herself. The crowds were thinning and she tried to keep in the middle of them, but she knew something was wrong when several chakra signatures began converging on her position.

With nothing else left to try, Sakura ducked into an alley, created a shadow clone, and then waited as the replica of herself darted toward the nearest rooftop.

A feminine voice rang out. "I saw her, she went that way, hurry!"

The Kumo ninja searching only feet away from the real Sakura wasted no time in hurrying away and Sakura breathed a sigh of relief. Whoever that woman had been, she'd fallen for the trap and led the cloud ninja away. It was getting late again and she still hadn't seen any sign of Sasuke or Naruto. The idea that the Raikage had found them was looking more and more possible.

'Kami, please let them be okay.'

She went rigid, sensing chakra nearby again, her eyes going wide as she realised the owner of the feminine voice hadn't moved away with the others… she wasn't a civilian. She strode toward the slip of darkness between the two buildings and moved the crate out of the way. Sakura stared at her, stunned.

Two pearl eyes stared at her, not remotely surprised to see her.

Sakura however, was shocked. "Hinata?"

X X X

[stormz369]

☕💖 Can I Get Your Number? ☕💖 Ch. 2

Jason Todd x Chubby! Reader (fem)

A/N: Wow, I was not expecting that kind of reaction! Thank you to everyone who's interacted with chapter 1; I've had a rough week and you all made my day! I wasn't planning on posting chapter 2 until I was a bit further along with ch 3, but I just can't find it in me to say no to ya'll!

Chapter 1 Chapter 2 Chapter 3

written with a female reader in mind, first person pov, no use of Y/N, hurt (no comfort) (yet), will probably get NSFW later, let me know if there's anything else I should tag this with!

warnings (chapter specific): chapter includes a brief scene of attempted assault (which will be labeled for those who'd rather skip it) angst, gun violence, some negative self-talk

words: 1.8k

Jason's first call came at exactly 2:05pm the next day. When I picked up I was immediately greeted by his voice seemingly from the other side of a very large room; “seriously, guys! I'll call, I'll call!”

“Too late!” Dick shouted, clearly holding the phone. “Hello! This is Dick, calling on behalf of my idiot brother, Jason! We met at the cafe yesterday?”

I could hear Jason shouting at someone, but it was muffled like he was under something. “Right … So are you going to put Jason on, or…?”

“Well, Jaybird is under the impression that calling a girl the next day is ‘desperate’ and ‘off-putting’, so we've taken up a poll at the house, and surprise surprise; we need a tiebreaker. Your thoughts?”

Before I could respond I heard muffled grunting; someone in the background shouted “no! Get him!” which was immediately followed by a yelp from Dick as Jason growled a bit;

“Give me that!” A door slammed, and all the other voices were gone, replaced by Jason's gentle, almost shy voice; “... Um … hi … still think this is normal sibling behavior?”

I giggled; “... Starting to veer away from normal now. But it's sweet, they obviously really care about you. And for the record - you can call the poll on the side of ‘it’s not desperate or off-putting'; I gave you my phone number, surely I expected you to use it, right?”

“... O- oh, yeah I guess that makes sense … So yeah, I'm using it. … Hi.”

“Hi~”

After that, I spoke to Jason in some capacity or another most every day. Turned out he was a night owl too. Apparently he worked most nights, so, after I assured him that a text wouldn't wake me, he started preemptively sending me a good morning text around 3 or 4am, so it was the first thing I saw when I woke up.

I loved how he could go off on an impassioned tangent; getting him all worked up over literature was especially cute. He did have a tendency to backpedal after a particularly passionate rant, no matter how many times I pointed out that I liked hearing him so excited. We also kept trying to arrange a day to get together, preferably without his brothers hovering this time, but his work schedule was so hectic that we kept having to postpone.

It seemed a bit unlikely, but I started to wonder if I had been right in the first place; that it was all some really elaborate prank. It certainly wouldn't be the first time an attractive man had played with my heart like that, though it would be the first time one had bought me anything before pulling the rug out from under me… 

Nearly a month into our texting relationship, Jason went radio silent for several days. No warning, just gone. I didn't want to be clingy, but I was a bit worried. He had been so attentive until this, what if something was wrong and I was out here thinking the worst about him?

On day 5 without a response I picked up a late shift at work, hoping to distract myself from the whole thing. It didn't work though, and I ended up trudging home at 2am blasting loud, angry music through my headphones. I was frustrated, and confused, and careless. I didn't notice the man behind me until his hand was around my wrist.

 ❌❌❌ -skip point- ❌❌❌

The world moved in slow motion as I was pulled into the alley. The man's mouth was moving, but I just heard a staticy ring. I tasted copper, and everything was too dark. Things didn't snap back into focus until I felt the rough brick slam against my back and I screamed, shoving against him.

All at once, everything was moving too fast; he was grabbing, I was punching and kicking, my voice was cracking. A second felt like an eternity, I couldn't even hazard a guess how long the fight actually took. But all at once it ended; with a loud, sharp sound that left me frozen in place and my ears ringing, the man collapsed in front of me. Red bloomed across his unmoving chest, and all I could do was stare.

❌❌❌ -end skip point- ❌❌❌

Large, leather clad hands gently touched my shoulders, bringing me back into my body. I slowly looked up, blinking. I immediately recognized the masked man who had come to my aid; Red Hood had made quite the name for himself in his time as a mob boss. I heard something droning on, but couldn't focus on any specific details over the sound of my own heartbeat still pounding in my ears. It took him gingerly sliding my headphones off for me to realize the noise I was hearing was just the next song on my angry playlist.

“Miss? Can you hear me now?” there was an electric quality to his voice. I vaguely wondered why more Masks didn't use voice modulators; it seemed more practical than the standard vigilante eye coverings… 

I slowly nodded. “... Y- … yeah?”

The red helmet nodded once, “did he hurt you?”

I looked down at myself, frowning a bit. My shirt was grimed up from the struggle, and I could feel the cold night air on the back of my thighs; my pants had ripped when I tried to kick the man off me. A shaky breath turned into a sob as I gasped, looking up again.

A million thoughts ran through my head at once. I wanted to scream, to curse, anything! But all I managed was a whimpered; “... Th- these were my favorite pants …”

“... Well, your boyfriend will just have to get you a new pair. Let … let me get you home, yeah?” I flinched as he reached toward me again, a gloved finger gently wiping away my tears. He offered me his hand, easing me out of the alley like a frightened stray cat.

I followed without complaint, turning my music off. “... No boyfriend …”

“A friend then? Someone who'll take care of you.” Red Hood led me to a motorcycle. He unzipped a bag on the back, and held out a red flannel shirt.

A watery giggle slipped out of my mouth and I shakily took it, tying it around my waist. “... I don't even know anymore…” 

“Don't know?”

“Well, I was talking to a guy, but … I think he ghosted me.”

“No!” I jumped at the sudden volume and insistent tone, looking up at him awkwardly.

“... No?”

“I … I just mean … a pretty girl like you's not gonna get ghosted. If he hasn't texted back in a few days there's gotta be a reason.”

I looked away, squirming awkwardly. Did an ex-crime lord turned vigilante really just call me pretty? “... Y- … I … what?”

He was silent for a long moment. I got the distinct impression that he was staring at me, but with the helmet on it was hard to tell. “... We should get you home.”

Next thing I knew, I was holding Red Hood's helmet. I hesitantly looked up as he turned, catching just a glimpse of one of those domino masks the other local vigilantes wore. He moved his bag and swung one leg over the seat of his bike, turning back to stare at me expectantly. The prospect of letting the Red Hood know where I lived didn't seem like the smartest idea, but I was definitely not going to walk home alone after all that. So I slid the helmet on and carefully climbed behind him, placing my feet where he indicated. As I arranged the flannel between my bare thighs and the seat it occurred to me how unexpectedly kind it was of him to offer it. I knew he had been spotted working with the Bats lately, but just because they had accepted him didn’t mean he was a boy scout all of a sudden...

Of course, now that I was on his bike I was faced with the rather pressing concern of where to put my hands. I didn’t exactly have handle bars, and I doubted he was going to drive slow enough that I could stay upright; I would have to lean against him. I took a deep, steadying breath, and placed my hands on his shoulders. Hood froze a bit, and after a moment he reached behind himself to grasp my elbows. He gently pulled me to wrap my arms around his waist.

 “It's actually safest this way. Interlock your fingers, and lean with me on turns.” His voice was so much nicer without the helmet distorting it, even if he was doing a truly terrible Batman impression. 

“... O- ok…” I clung to him, feeling my entire body heat up. I wasn't sure how much of that was because I was blushing and how much was because the Red Hood was apparently a living space heater, but either way I was glad he couldn't see my face. I told him how to get to my apartment, and we sped off.

The roar of the engine and the wind whipping past mercifully drowned out anything we could have hoped to say to each other. I shut my eyes just for a moment, trying not to cry again, and suddenly Hood’s hand was trapping mine against his stomach. “... Hey, this it?”

I jolted slightly, looking up at the familiar building. I nodded, slowly extracted myself from his grip, and slid back onto solid ground. He held a hand up to stop me as I started to remove the borrowed flannel.

“Keep it.”

I blinked slowly, having trouble processing what he said. “... But … it’s your shirt … how will I give it back to you?”

He chuckled softly; “it’s just a shirt.”

I didn’t have the energy to argue the matter any further. I slipped his helmet off, holding it out to him.

��Thank you … I can't believe I let this happen…”

He frowned deeply at that, and his voice shifted a bit from a fake-Batman voice into an actually deep, grumpy tone; “you didn't let anything happen.”

“I'm usually so much more observant, if I had just been paying attention…”

“He would have changed tactics. You did nothing wrong. I don't want you thinking otherwise, got it?”

I sniffled softly, looking down at my shoes. “... I … God, I didn't even have my keys in my hand… I was taught better…”

“And I was taught not to kill. Shit happens.”

I blinked a bit, unable to stop the laugh that bubbled up. “… I … I guess so. … Th- Thank you … for everything.”

He nodded once before putting his helmet back on. Before I could step away, he reached out to touch my hand again. “Hey. You did everything right, ok? You drew attention, and you kept him off until I got there. You have nothing to be ashamed of. Got it?”

I nodded slowly, stepping back a bit. “… ok.”

“Good. Now, get inside.” He waited there, watching me. Only after the building's front door was closed and locked did I hear his motorcycle speed away.

Next ->

Divider by: @saradika

Taglist: @jawdropforkpop

(If you would like to be added to the taglist feel free to let me know!)

[planetwaynez]

FLOWERS AND GOLDEN STRINGS

Jason Todd x Fem!Reader

SOULMATES AU!

Synopsis: Jason is certain that he is meant to help others, not just as a vigilante but also as some sort of twisted cupid. He thinks he is meant to only watch other fall in love and never find his forever and always, however after buying Lian some flowers for her birthday and a sucession of events envolving soulmates, he can't get the flower shop girl out of his head. Y/N thinks that the Red Hood is so hopeless in love with his soulmate but why does this fact bothers her so much? Why she wanted to be the center of his affaction? After months helping the vigilante, she meets her soulmate, Jason, but she can't forget the Red Hood. How will she deal with all those new and complicated emotions?

Warnings: SMUT! Canon-divergent, violence, foul lingauge, jelousy, complicated feelings, angst, fluffly, miscominucation, slow burn, injuries, kidnaping, paranoia and more to be added.

CHAPTERS

One

Two

Three

Four

Five

Six

Seven

Eight

Nine

Ten

[absolute-flaming-trash]

Please reblog if you vote, I require the opinions of the masses 💛

[dropofbittersea]

“Beacon County Sheriff's Department, this is deputy Mahealani speaking.”

“Oh thank god!”

“Stiles?”

“I, uh, I need some advice.”

“Advice?”

“Yeah. So, hypothetically, say you met your boyfriend’s mother and sister for the first time ever. Completely by accident. In the grocery store. And they convinced you to help them make a dinner to surprise aforementioned boyfriend when he got home after work. What would you do?”

Danny paused, and then, “Stiles, you don’t have a boyfriend.”

“That’s not the point! And I said hypothetically.”

“Stiles...what are you doing right now?”

***

Stiles never imagined he’d be in Derek’s kitchen cooking a surprise dinner with Derek’s family while they waited for Derek to get home from work.

Partly because their visit was a complete surprise.

But mostly because Stiles didn’t have a boyfriend.

Or even know who Derek was.

But he’d already come this far and Papa didn’t raise no quitter!

[penvisions]

zest {chapter 3}

Pairing: Chef! Joel Miller x Professor! Reader (formally known as Bartender! Reader)

Summary: Your time away with Joel starts now and he makes you feel all kinds of things.

Word Count: 3.4k

Warnings: canon typical violence (fleeting), canon typical language, canon typical angst, rude people, offensive behavior, body shaming, fat shaming, reader gets shoved one (1) time, reader defends herself, brief misogyny, feral joel, joel beats the crap out of someone, joel goes into protective mode, threatening words, worldview of pregnangy being a negative thing, fat shaming, body shaming, reader is canonically mid-size, illusions to smut, adult content, pet names (darling, baby, love), the term slut used affectionately, some mild spice, flirting, they're insufferable your honor. um i think those are all the major ones pls let me know if i need to add more!

REMINDER: this is a sequel series, the previous series can be found here {garnish}

A/N: hi y'all, it's been a whirlwind lately! been trying to figure out the flow of this and i think i was maybe attempting to force this chapter to be more than this and it just wasn't working + made me frustrated. but you know what? not every chapter has to be massively 3k+, it can just be what feels and flows right, so here y'all go. i hope you enjoy these two as much as i do

ao3 link || series masterlist || joel miller masterlist || ko-fi

He's been quiet since leaving the museum, something he had surprised you with a flyer for. He had picked it up in the lobby, had done some research online as he mumbled about some certain paintings, he thought you’d like that were on display, Ellie’s influence strong in his words. His desire to be a good provider and make this trip something to remember. Not that that was too hard, any time spent with Joel was good time, from easy jokes to teasing banter, soft moments as you both reveled in the life you two were leading, the life you two were creating.

Where he had let you guide him from countless exhibits to plentiful ornately framed paintings with a hand clasped around his own. He had seemed engaged enough, eyes alight as you turned to him with wide smiles and small giggles of excitement at the more interesting pieces. It had turned into a little game of 'weirdest little guy' where you each pointed to people and animals in the backgrounds and declared, 'it's you'. He had been the first to start it, by pointing out a woman dressed from head to toe in a tavern maids outfit brandishing a large knife. She had been shouting, her brow heavy and her expression heated.

You had followed his lead by pointing to a rather disgruntled lumberjack in the back of depicting a wintery landscape with a cabin. Though the man impressed in ink had been bald and rather terrified of the approaching bear.

From cats with too human faces, to frogs that looked stunned, to the most bruised or oddly shaded piece of fruit in a bunch or bowl, it had occupied you both throughout the whole building, through everything there was to see. He had brandished a newer, shinier credit card at the gift shop. allowing you the treat of stickers and a coffee mug you had cooed and awed over. But you knew it was the little onesie with colorful peach you had said was him printed on the front.

"To commemorate our first outing as a little unit." You felt so light, so free. Hormones letting you just be yourself at the moment, even if you had to stop to pee quite often. You had said so at the register, the clerk asking after your meaning behind picking it out. Your hands cradling your growing belly as you did so, delighting in the little kicks you had felt stir up as you stood in front of particular pieces. Stirring up at the combined laughter between you and Joel, so much so that you had gotten hushed from a security guard that made it even harder to cut it out. You're picturing the mirth and careful smile on his face even as he held a finger to his mouth in a motion to be quiet, chest rumbling with laughter even as he did so.

But now he was quiet beside you, as he guided the truck into a spot of a rapidly filling parking lot. He's not in a bad mood, per se, but you can sense he's quieted over something in his mind.

"Did- did you enjoy the museum?" You feel silly, like an awkward interloper that first day you had walked in for a first shift at the restaurant. Unaware of how things operated, hesitant to ask where to put your bag or where to get a clean apron from since you hadn't been able to locate yours. Like you had that morning you had woken up to him in your apartment, having slept on the couch after making sure you got home safely. The conversation that had followed, the uncertainty, the almost reproachful way you had asked him what was going on with him, with you, between you both. You feel the same slightly tense and on edge energy around him now as you did back then, when he gave you an impromptu tour of the space and then left you with paperwork to fill out.

You have no clue why perhaps it's the default to being out of town with him. Like there are parts of you he's yet to see and would caste judgement on. Though you know the worst he would do is tease you over something as benign at the way you idle on in the bathroom or fawn over street cats for far too long with a soft, silly coo or the places you tend to pick for coffee being on the extravagant side. 

He thought over his answer, guiding the truck into the parking lot of a coffee house. He had said he would turn a blind eye to whatever decaf drinks you decided to indulge in while out of town. The coffee shop you had seen online garnering your attention and he memorized the drive from the museum.

He’s getting out of the truck, rounding the hood and opening the door as he speaks.

"Not really my cup of tea, but it's yours, darlin'. Do anythin' to spend time with ya and I figured this would light you up like a christmas tree." He's smiling softly at you now, his lips looking perfectly kissable beneath his thick moustache and trimmed facial hair. Face shifting from introspective to present, returning to you and feeding off your nervousness in a way you knew he hoped would settle it.

"I do ramble a lot about stuff from my studies, huh." You can't help the feeling of adoration that floods heat in your face, almost like you've got a schoolgirl crush on the man beside you, despite the ring on your finger and the bump of your belly. His hands are warm on you as they help to steady your movements out of the passenger seat, the tall cab a little daunting and the worry of falling in the forefront of your mind. You were being so cautious, words of failed pregnancies your step mother had cited for the deterioration of your parents relationship.

"Yeah, but I listen to every word even if I don't understand it all." He's brushing those delectable lips against the apple of your cheek. "Listen to ya ramable all day, even if it's about nothin'."

"You're smart too, Joel." Insistent words that are swept away with a brush of his hand over your shoulder. But you can see the way his ears tinge pink at the tops, he's smitten at the idea of you thinking so, even if he doesn't himself.

"Not the same way you are, darlin'. Got math and science smarts, practical. You got the artsy smarts, fun and entertaining. Same as Ellie."

"You and Sarah, me and Ellie. We all balance each other out." You lean up into his space, determined for him to hear the good things you have to say about him. He's a good man, just a little rough around the edges. And he was yours.

"We do, don't we. Perfect little family, all for you." He meets you halfway, pressing his lips to yours and stirring butterflies in your ribcage. "You complete us, sabrosa. Been waitin' for you my entire life."

"I've been searching for you my entire life, I just didn't know it, Mr. Miller." His eyes are hooded as he takes in the sight of you so close, pressed to him and held tight by his arms around your waist, your own around his shoulders.

"Glad to have been found, Mrs. Miller." Another kiss, little whimpers telling him exactly how you feel about the confession, the truth of his words that he had tumbled over in his mind every day you were apart. You were his and you were back in his life where you belonged.

It's a little loud, the establishment crowded around the lunch hour. But it's the comforting scent of roasting coffee and the lingering scent of Joel’s cologne on the front of his shirt as he holds you to his chest with his hands around your ribs. Sighing, you look over the menu wanting for each and every interesting flavor combination. But you know you get one today, that’s what you’d limited yourself too because decaf was only so much better than regular espresso. There was no true way to roast out every last bit of caffeine even if the doctor had also agreed a few indulges throughout the pregnancy wouldn’t cause any harm.

“What’re you gonna get?” Joel’s fingers tap lightly at your stomach, the little kicks still going and endlessly entertaining him. Small taps elicited responses more times than not, something you were sure you would never tire of. The feeling of the small being growing inside of you, already so enamored with Joel softening something deep inside of you.

“I think maybe one of macadamia combination ones. Sounds yummy.”

“You know what else sounds…yummy?” His nose is a distraction as it brushes along the back of your head, almost near your ear as he leans closer to it and rumbles his taunting words.

“Joel Miller, if you do anything that prevents me from enjoying my coffee, I swear-“

“Relax, darlin’.” He nips at the top of your ear, causing you to snort at the tickling sensation. “Not gonna come between you and your coffee. Just lettin’ you know where my mind is at.”

“Slut.” You smirk to yourself as he freezes momentarily, allowing you to step out of his hold and toward the counter. You order the macadamia and white chocolate latte, hot and decaf. When asked if that was all for the order, you turn to find Joel closing the gap of a few feet with a smirk of his own.

“I’ll take a blended mocha chip, medium please.” You catch his eyes as he glances at you out of the corner of his own. “Gonna get you back for that, pretty girl.”

“What?” It’s kinda true.” A tongue is stuck out and his eyes dilate every so slightly as he presses the same shiny black credit card to the reader. Never once breaking the contact.

“Then what do you call someone who nearly had me pulling over because she couldn’t keep her mouth to herself on a four hour drive?” He questions lowly as he steps away from the register, wallet going back into the butt pocket of his pants.

“Your fiancé.” You smile sweetly at him, an eyebrow raised in a silent challenge. His chuckle is a low vibration against your shoulder as he shuffles you toward the pickup end of the counter. He’s filthy, but so are you. There’s no denying it, even in jest. That part of your relationship had gotten off to a rocky start but once it had kicked off, damn if that wasn’t something you two were committed to no matter what. The physical attraction so strong, the desire for each other never waning, it’s what started this in the first place and you wouldn’t have it any other way.

“You’re too right, perfect match.” Lips curled up in matching smile, you wonder if his heart skips beats and his stomach flips just like yours. Later you find out exactly what you to do him, when he grunts it into your ear as he fills you from behind.

It happens when you’re waiting at the end of the counter for pick up, Joel having run off to the restroom.

“Move your fat ass, tryin’ to get up to the drinks.” You’re shoved harshly with an elbow before the words even register. Your balance sways and your hair tousles to cover your face as you try to reach a hand out to catch yourself on the counter top, but your nails don’t gain any purchase. You collapse hard on the floor. Your palms sting as you try to prevent from landing flat, worry taking over as you do your best to avoid any pressure or damage to your middle. The guy is grumbling as he watches, the remnants of his coffee sloshed around the ceramic and splashed onto his crips white dress shirt.

“Sabrosa!”

Before you could even blink, Joel is right there helping you back up to your feet, a comforting hand on your stomach and on your shoulder as he looks you over. His full lips are a thin line, the muscle in his jaw jumping as he grinds his teeth, but you know it isn’t aimed at you. At your small nod and tight-lipped smile, his hands fall from you and your turn with your arm crooked back. The crack of your fist on the guy’s jaw breaks the jovial atmosphere and everything goes silent as he falls hard on his ass. The ceramic shatters and the remnants of his latte fly into the air.

“Fuckin’ bitch!”

“You assault my girl and didn’t expect anything to happen?” Joel demands angrily as he partially shields you with his own body, unsure if the man will retaliate. He’d gladly let you get in a hit, but you know he’d be damned if someone laid a hand on you. You’d seen it firsthand before, more than once. You’re your own person, as you’ve proven time and time again. Something he rather enjoyed about you, something you hoped he would continue to find endearing. Even as your attitude flared sometimes.

“She was in the way, it was barely a little shove!”

“You steamrolled me, asshole!” You step out from behind Joel a little, anger flaring and temper coming to bat. It was bad enough you had nearly fallen completely in on yourself but to then be brushed off and told it was nothing? You weren’t about to take it with a forced, polite smile and a feeling of guilt for not having handled the situation better later on in the evening.

“She’s pregnant, you fuckin’ idiot!” Joel roars, one of his boots coming down unnervingly close to the guy’s hand as he sets it flat to try and get back up. Lips frowning part to argue, but loud footsteps of workers rushing off to grab a manager cut him off. “You could’ve hurt her or my child with your reckless behavior!”

“Joel-“ You try to pull at his forearm, urging him to calm down. The veins showing in his skin and you can’t help the drag of your eyes across the length of them. Your stomach flips, body and mind reacting to the way he’s standing tall in front of you, ready to defend. It’s making your body hum, the way he’s so willing, so quick to protect. His instincts appealing to the most base part of your brain, your own reacting to them in a way that is utterly and completely primal.

“You knocked up the fat chick and you’re upset at me? Man, you’re in need of something stronger than coffee.” He’s trying to get back up, but Joel’s closing in on him.

“You ever talk about a woman that way again and I will end you!” Joel’s shouting as he allows you to pull him back, his chest heaving and his frizzy curls in disarray. His arm is putty in your hands, thick fingers tangling with yours in a comforting move even as his attention is focused on the man still on the ground.

“I think it’s best if you pick yourself up and leave, sir.” A large man in a plain black outfit approached, his hands on his hips. You don’t bother to respond to him, instead tugging Joel with you as you begin to walk toward the door.

“C’mon Joel, let’s just go too. I want to leave.”

“There’s no need for that, you two are welcome to stay.” The guy who you assume is the manager looks up at you as he crouches down to take the still fuming and arguing man. His polite but genuine smile falls as he hoists the man up and begins to walk him to the door. “We don’t tolerate hateful behavior here, you’re banned.”

“This is bullshit!” His shirt gets ruffled, his outfit wrinkling as he’s manhandled out across the floor. You jump as a hand gently brushed your shoulder, causing you to tense your hand around Joel’s and twirl to the left. Your confusion and slight worry eases when you see it was the barista that had taken your order.

“You’re drinks are ready, love. Are you okay?” Her smile is soft, the drinks offered to you. “That was quite a fall, do you need any water or want to sit down to catch your breath?”

You shake your head slowly, not wanting to remain in the café even if things were turning around and the atmosphere had gone back to what it was when you first entered. The music is playing softly again, though you’re sure it had never gone out, never actually cut to silence anywhere except for in your awareness.

Joel only turns to face her once the offensive man is shoved out the door. Your hand leaves Joel’s to reach for the do go cups, the warmth of the freshly made drinks sinking into your palms and calming you after the tense ordeal. The barista nods to Joel, her eyes wide and roving. You feel jealously wake up inside you as she takes his form in, even with you right beside him. The signs of your devotion to each other clear, from the defense he had taken for you to the way he’s surveying the café for any other signs of trouble. She’s holding out a small bag, her face visibly flushed when his fingers graze hers to accept it.

“We’ve also refunded your transaction, sir. And included a few things from the pastry case for the trouble.” Her hands are clasped in front of her now, the apron over her front marred with dried foam from steamed milk and espresso grounds. She’s pretty, she’s skinny. You can’t help the insecurity that bubbles up, she’s young and her eyes contain the same lust for life you had when you first moved away from home. You aren’t sure if you’re jealous of her obvious attraction to your fiancé or the attraction to life she exudes. She doesn’t seem to carry any mental burdens, like you had from glancing at what lies behind her eyes. But then again, you hadn’t appeared to either while clocked in and focused on working.

“That’s mighty kind of ya, many thanks.” His left arm curls around your waist, his lips brushing your temple once again. The girl nods before turning on her heel and retreated back behind the counter. “Do you want to stay, darlin’? You were so excited to sit in and look at all the photographs on the wall.”

“I…I would like to go, please.” You look up at him, catching his eye feeling off kilter. Social battery completely drained and yearning for the privacy of your lush hotel room and a bath.

“Alright, let’s get you back to the hotel. We can take it easy until our evening reservations. How about I run us a nice, hot bubble bath, hmm?” His hand curls and guides you to stand directly in front of him, eyes searching your face. “We can soak until we’re all pruned up and I’ll even run it a little hotter for your comfort. Sound good?”

“I love you.” You surge up and press your lips to his cheek. His smile when you pull back grips around your heart and your stomach flips again, butterflies bursting to life. You do, you love him with everything you are, with everything you transformed into. His love in return the only thing that made you feel like you never had before. He was right, he had been waiting for you while you wandered and figured out what it was you wanted. You weren’t sure you had ever even explicitly voiced it or even discovered what it was beyond getting your credentials and teaching. But he had helped you to discover that what you wanted was a life with him. A simple, nurturing and real relationship with someone who saw you for exactly who you were.

You wanted to make sure he knew that as you connected your lips with his smiling ones.

“Let’s get you out of those clothes, hmm? Somethin’ tells me you got some thoughts swirling around in that pretty head of yours.” He whispers against them, breath hot and teeth teasing your bottom one for the barest of seconds, the action sending a shiver down your spine. All you can do is nod as he pivots and leads you back to the truck.

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[amethystheart2421]

Moonseeker Reclist

Under a cut because this is long!

Multi-chapter

Diamond on a Landmine by m3535, Zayhad

Ancient Runes by Soupy_George

Wolfsbane of My Existence by AmethystHeart2421

When You Fall by PatronusDorcas 

For Reasons Unknown by m3535, Zayhad 

The Sounds of Us by Sniper_Jade

Red Flags and Long Nights by JustSadThingsMostly (WIP)

Professor Regulus Black by Captain_Aesthetics

Lover is a Day by le_mru

A Means to a Triumph by Naodrith (WIP)

Crazy Ex-Boyfriend by AmethystHeart2421 (Illustrated by SorenPhelps)

Lover's Eye by teethandtulips

Bad Professor by Sniper_Jade (WIP)

Yours for the Night by willowjh

Hiding in Plain Sight by MidnightStargazer

Heart of the Lion by PhantomGrimalkin (WIP)

Fragile Development by AmethystHeart2421

Oneshots

Letting Go of Lost Things by doshu

Till Tomorrow and Till Death by thistlecat

i’ll make my way up to the stars. by kamoritoshi

Whatever I Want (Whatever That Is) by xylodemon

Sharp teeth, soft lips by BlueSundayCake

El Reyezuelo de El Dorado by AmethystHeart2421

Earnest Grasping by Jain

bite the hand that feeds by swoons

The Most Dangerous Star at the Dark Centre of the Universe by xylodemon

Book Smart by maybebabyplease

Lover is a Day by Le_mru

A Passing Dream by Elfflame

The Hiding Room by Elfflame

Keep Your Enemies Close by PhantomGrimalkin

Losing the Moon by LaurelsandLumos

The Wolf and the Woodsman by PhantomGrimalkin

monster, moongazer by electricnectar

It's Our Secret by raynick11

You and Me, Moony by AmethystHeart2421

Visions of a Visitor by givemetherapyimawalkingtravesty

If it's all Over I'm Taking This Moment With Me by underburningstars

The Replacements by A_factorygirl_69

I'm going to be it tonight by PhantomGrimalkin

Glad to be Unhappy by teethandtulips

[hjbender]

Finish the story first and then post it Finish the story first and then post it Finish the story first and then post it Finish the story first and then post it Finish the story first and then post it—

[missbubblesoda]

early in the morning, especially when it rains, and a little before noon. (28)

erwin x fem!reader

chapters: (1) | (2) | (3) | (4) | (5) | (6) | (7) | (8) | (9) | (10) | (11) | (12) | (13) | (14) | (15) | (16) | (17) | (18) | (19) | (20) | (21) | (22) | (23) | (24) | (25) | (26) | (27) | (29) | (30)

summary: I basically took Isayama’s work, forced it into a romance story, and made Erwin the love interest. Commander meets cadet and they fall in love (not instantly though)

notes: very berry canonverse (but some events were modified to fit my narrative), wasn’t intended to be this long, but it all is in the details right?

content warnings: smut where it fits (or where I make it fit. Also, reader is NOT underage, so likewise, MINORS DO NOT INTERACT, please.) slow burn (I really mean it. I’m not olympic diving into any form of smut for the first chapters.) no angst. I dislike angst. I would never. I could never. (Although angst can be somewhat subjective so take it with a grain of salt?)

wc: 4.7k

Romance authors often portray dancing with one’s beloved as an endless joy, something that could easily last well beyond nightfall. Yet your throbbing feet, bound and constrained by the white straps of your low-heeled shoes, silently resented them for such a lie. That’s why, when lunch was served, you eagerly welcomed the opportunity to sit down for a moment or two and catch your breath before inevitably dragging him back to the dance floor. After all, when else would you have the chance to slow dance against his chest, your chin resting cozily on his shoulder, and his arm wrapped protectively around your waist?

When you savored the first mouthful of peppercorn stuffing you realized that the Koch’s definition of good food was remarkably similar to yours. Everything, from the velvety gravy soup, the endless procession of assorted biscuits, the indulgent servings of steamed pudding, and the generous dollops of raspberry jam you coronated each of them with, prompted contented hums from your lips whenever you took a bite.

“I don’t recall ever seeing you this happy during a meal, not back at the base at least,” he noted from the seat next to yours, a playful smile on his lips and a forkful of roast venison in his hand.

“Well, that’s because you’ve never actually seen me during a meal. Have you, Commander Smith?” you responded casually, eyes completely focused on the extra dollop of jam you were serving, while your mind wandered to all the times you urged him to put his pen down and join you and the others in the dinner hall, even if just for a piece of bread. “Maybe if you graced us with your presence at dinner from time to time, you would see that I enjoy the Survey Corps’ food just as much. But you insist on eating alone in your office so...” you shrugged nonchalantly before bringing a spoon loaded with pudding to your lips.

“Have I upset you, my lady?” he asked with a smile that denoted he wasn’t the least bit concerned, and then, lifting a napkin, proceeded to wipe red jam off the corner of your lips.

And what an absurd question it was. No one with that shade of blue in their eyes and that disarming smile on their lips could ever upset anyone. There was no possible way, especially not when his face was this close to yours; his caring gesture, as sweet as it was unexpected, completely dazzling you, disorienting your senses until you found yourself nodding dazedly, your own eyes hopelessly lost in his.

“How very rude of me then,” he concluded, softly brushing the cloth against your skin, and you honestly couldn’t tell which was softer: the silk or the back of his fingers.

“Mother!” you exclaimed abruptly, springing up from your chair the moment you discovered her poised frame standing beside you. “We w- I mean I was- how do you do, Mother?”

“Darling,” she sent an acknowledging nod your way. Her usual composure, evident in both her assured demeanor and controlled voice, masked any hint of what she thought or felt, and at the same time, sent your heart into a flurry. Her gaze flickered to the Commander, who rose with practiced ease, a stark contrast to your own fumbling attempt from a few seconds ago.

“Madam,” the Commander offered your mother a warm smile along with a welcoming hand, a silent invitation you desperately hoped she wouldn’t refuse.

“Commander Smith,” she replied after a stretch of silence, which you wished had been shorter, placing her hand in his with ladylike charm.

Although your heart still pounded and raced inside, a flicker of relief found its way within when you saw the genuine smile blooming on your mother’s face as the Commander helped her into the vacant seat beside him.

“Pleasure to finally meet you,” she declared in that regal tone she reserved for social occasions, and it dawned on you: how long it had been since you last heard her speak that way. At home, her voice was always so mellow, less measured, especially around you and your father. And a sting of longing shot through you, a sudden wish for more of those casual evenings shared around the dinner table. “I’ve heard a lot about you, Commander Smith,” she added.

“Not from the press, I expect,” he said, earning a hearty chuckle from your mother. And you lowered your head, trying to resist the childlike smile shyly tugging at your lips as you watched the scene unfold.

“Rest assured, Commander Smith. Despite the occasional critique about the Survey Corp’s overbaked tomato pie, my daughter’s letters are otherwise filled with glowing reports about her days under your leadership.”

“So, Mother! Where’s Father?” you blurted out abruptly as soon as the Commander turned to look at you, a questioning eyebrow raised above a widely amused smirk that spelled ‘I knew you didn’t like our food!’ on his lips. “I was hoping he could meet Commander Smith today.”

“Your father? I was under the impression that he was right behind me,” she sighed in disappointment, glancing around in an attempt to find him among the partygoers. “Guess I shouldn’t have assumed. Maybe one of his… secret society buddies snatched him, or maybe the government finally got him,” she spoke with a touch of nonchalance that made you huff, shaking your head in playful disapproval of your parents’ bickering as you exchanged a smile with the Commander, who seemed downright entertained by your mother’s presence.

“If those bureaucratic buffoons you call ‘our government’ were to find us, color me surprised,” a masculine voice emerged from behind, and you didn’t need to turn in order to know who it belonged to. “Let's just say, Hansel's neck would be on the chopping block way before mine. We can worry about this head above my shoulders after they scrape his off the floor,” with that, your father materialized beside you, snatching a piece of bread from your plate and biting the best part off.

“Father,” you rose to your feet in greeting, gesturing towards the Commander with your hand, “This is Commander Erwin Smith.”

“You bet he is!” he yelled enthusiastically, the bread he had previously shoved into his mouth now getting in the way of his words, so he tried to wash it all down with an indulgent sip of his apple toddy. “What a momentous occasion! Today will go down in history as the day we finally crossed paths, my Commander,” he declared, a wide grin splitting his face.

My Commander? Since when? You thought, a silent snort almost escaping your lips. You wouldn't dare say it aloud though, not wanting to disrupt the moment or make the Commander uncomfortable. You knew time had softened your father's stance on the Survey Corps, especially towards their leader, but it was just too comical: to think this was the same man who, not too many seasons back, used to rant every week about the government wasting their funds on the Scouts.

Regardless, you were glad he had come to see him in a new light. Because Erwin Smith, his people, and the sacrifices they constantly made deserved nothing less than the utmost respect.

“Well met, my lord,” the Commander replied with a cordial smile. Standing right by his side, you blushed at the height difference between you two. There were moments when you felt genuinely small next to him, and this was one of them, but it always brought you a strange sense of security. And suddenly, you found yourself longing to experience that comforting feeling again, to be held in his strong embrace once again today, like the first time, that late summer afternoon in the forest of Giants Trees… To feel even smaller and overpowered by him, his solid muscles, his manly scent... Yes, that would be the perfect ending to a truly fantastic day.

“I have heard a great deal about you from your lady daughter,” he added, his eyes crinkling at the corners with genuine warmth. “She even mentioned your... unique ability to interpret nature's signs.”

“Is that right?” your father turned to you, pride shining in his round eyes. “Do you know what wisdom Augusta’s azaleas are revealing today?”

“Unfortunately, my lord, I wouldn’t be able to interpret such… botanical pronouncements,” the Commander replied with a hint of amusement in his voice. You weren’t surprised by his skepticism. By now, you had made peace with the fact that a man of science like him would, most likely, always remain in disbelief, no matter how many times nature proved you or your father’s predictions right.

A hearty laugh erupted from your father. "Ah, but perhaps they whisper of blossoming relationships today! Maybe even lifelong bonds taking root, huh? Wouldn’t you want to know, my Commander?" he winked at you, causing you to immediately duck your head in an attempt to hide the kaleidoscope of reds your face had become.

The things he says! Since when did he even-

You took a deep breath, exasperation and affection wrestling within your chest. Classic Father, you thought, always saying what’s on his mind, even if his comments leave everyone a little flustered. You mentally made a note to apologize to the Commander for not warning him about this side of your fa-

“Lifelong bonds. An interesting interpretation, sir,” you looked up, his blue eyes choosing to share a moment with yours even though his words were aimed at your father. “They are a treasure worth cherishing, indeed,” he said, warmth blooming in your chest the longer his gaze lingered on you. And… was that longing in his eyes?

Was he thinking about those days too?

We used to spend hours collecting wildflowers by the stream near our cabin, drinking fresh lemonade in the summer, making love with the bedroom door ajar and the rainiest of mornings ahead of us…You reminded him in silence, surprised by the sudden urge to share with him the memories of your future together. And you swore you saw a ghost of a smile touch his lips before he chose to replace it with words.

“Perhaps some things are best discovered through experience, rather than foretold.”

His words hung in the air, heavy with unspoken meaning, tightening your throat with bittersweet nostalgia, and blurring your vision with vivid pictures of memories you were yet to create. Blinking back potential tears, you looked away, a blush creeping up your neck as you realized it was probably your turn to respond. So, taking a deep breath, you hid your longing with a smile.

"Perhaps they are, Commander Smith," you whispered, your voice barely audible amidst the backdrop of laughter surrounding you.

“Are you enjoying the reception, sir?” The Commander asked, and you knew him well enough to recognize this as his way of diverting attention from you, giving you space to steady yourself.

“Greatly,” your father replied, taking a hearty gulp of his drink to freshen up his throat. “And now that they've started serving apple toddies, this whole thing’s gotten a lot better! Ha ha! Although, to tell you the truth, the food can’t hold a candle to my wife’s cooking,” he added, trying to appear unassuming as he swirled the amber liquid thoughtfully, and you could vividly picture the discreet eye-roll your mother had answered him with. “Her green tomato pie is absolutely heavenly… Tell you what, Commander?!” he suddenly looked up, a mischievous glint appearing in his face, and while you didn’t know exactly what idea had crossed his mind, you certainly recognized the sparkle it had ignited in his eyes. “How about I show you my sincere appreciation with a proper dinner? Consider it a thank you for looking after our precious daughter.”

Your heart skipped a beat, hammering completely off rhythm against your ribs, the butterflies in your stomach swirling uncontrollably, creating a wave of nervous excitement that destructively washed over you. Surely, he couldn't be suggesting...

“I’m sure you’re a busy man, but I also know you are a highly intelligent one, which makes me think you have already assessed the situation, and identified this as probably the only opportunity you’ll have to enjoy my wife’s phenomenal cooking. In the nearby future, at least,” your father declared, leaning forward, his proposal making your stomach clench tighter.

Your gaze flickered to the Commander. He was about to respond to your father, but paused to steal a glance at you, a silent question exchanged between your eyes, unspoken… yes, but you believed you understood.

"Father, that's not necessary! Commander Smith is much too busy—" you blurted out, the memory of the Commander’s dismissal of Angelika Wald’s invitation still fresh in your mind. And you weren’t brave enough to risk facing the same rejection. “He has a long journey back to the base and… needs to leave shortly after the reception.”

“Is that so?” your father asked crestfallen, his shoulders slumping slightly as he turned to the Commander, and you had to admit he wasn’t the only one feeling dejected over the situation. Even though it may seem you were a little too eager to discourage the dinner, in truth, you were just doing your job, making it easier for the Commander to decline unnecessary appointments.

“My duties require a swift return to the base indeed,” he interjected, his words awakening a dormant discomfort in your chest, a faint ache you felt guilty for even having. Of course, he had responsibilities waiting, a mountain of paperwork and a whole base relying on him, to be more precise. Not only that, but he had already generously given you Sunday free, insisting you spent the entire weekend with your family. What else could you ask of him? Nothing. Doing so would be selfish, an indulgence you couldn’t justify.

“But perhaps…” he added unexpectedly, leaving you momentarily breathless, “Perhaps I could manage to find a way to fulfill both my obligations and experience your wife’s legendary cooking?”

Your chest rose and fell in rapid motions, trying to keep up with the beating of your heart, which had been hammering a frantic rhythm against your ribs just moments ago, and now soared with a lightness you had only felt when you were together with him… secluded in your imaginary cabin in the woods.

“Only if it wouldn’t be an inconvenience for her, of course,” the Commander clarified, gesturing towards your mother. “I wouldn't want to impose on your hospitality, sir, madam."

A radiant smile bloomed on your face, threatening to split your cheeks in two, as the weight of your earlier anxieties now seemed to melt away slowly, getting gradually replaced by a giddy anticipation that bubbled up exactly like the fizzy contents of the bottle you knew your father would pop open for dinner tonight. And you couldn't help but steal a glance back at the Commander, the warm smile he gave you in return held a knowing glint, a silent confirmation of your suspicions: He knew exactly how happy he was making you. And suddenly, although still a little guilty, you felt the uncontrollable need to hold his face in both hands and kiss him. Yet the image of what your mother would do following such events, quickly destroyed that notion.

“Nonsense. Allow us to treat you to the relaxed evening a hardworking gentleman like you deserves every now and then. Right, pumpkin?” your father said, turning to your mother for confirmation.

“Consider yourself most welcome this evening, Commander Smith,” she replied promptly, a subtle smile gracing her lips, and an inviting warmth unfolding in her voice, both very reminiscent of home. And you hoped the Commander could feel it too, you hoped he could understand: Just how welcome he was.

“Lovely! We shall expect you at the entrance within the hour, my Commander,” your father concluded, his voice filled with genuine enthusiasm. “Until then, please enjoy the remainder of the festivities.”

With that, he walked away with your mother for a final indulgence in refined mingling. As you watched their backs blend into the crowd, a soft smile played on your lips, cherishing the heartfelt kindness they had enveloped the Commander with. Maybe he needed it, maybe not, but you definitely wanted him to have it.

“So…” he leaned in to whisper in your ear once your parents were out of sight, a playful smile tugging at the corner of his lips. “We overbake our pies…”

“I never said that,” you countered with a hint of innocence, meeting his gaze with the unwavering confidence typical of someone who has no secrets to hide. Although a mischievous grin betrayed your amusement. “I called it ‘enthusiastic baking.’ Mother may have taken some creative liberties with her interpretation,” you added, wrapping several biscuits in a cloth napkin for the carriage ride home.

-

“Surely, my Commander, the situation is as clear as day," your father's booming voice resonated from the tearoom at the other end of the hallway. Even if by the time it reached the kitchen, it had softened to a murmur, neither you nor your mother needed to understand the exact words in order to know what he was talking about. The sheer excitement in his tone was a dead giveaway. "The true power lies with a hidden hand, content to manipulate a puppet king while they themselves remain hidden in the shadows. Their motives you ask? One can only speculate.”

The conversation, which at this point risked becoming your father’s monologue, sharpened as you neared the end of the hallway, the crinkling of porcelain against your fingertips accompanying the sound of your heels against the floorboards.

“However, unlike that old gossip Hansel," your father chuckled, a hint of disagreement lacing his tone, "I believe the answer lies in preservation."

“If the public, or some foreign power were to set their sights on this so-called king…” your father continued, his voice dropping to a dramatic whisper.

“The true royal family, whoever they may be, could remain untouched, veiled in secrecy and free to continue their reign… from the shadows,” the Commander interjected, and you arrived just in time to see a flicker of genuine curiosity cross his face. “I see your point, sir, a most intriguing notion indeed. This 'so-called king' would serve as a convenient buffer, deflecting any public discontent or potential threats aimed at the true power behind the throne.”

The Commander, you knew, had a liking for devouring dusty tomes on royal history. Did he, perhaps, find amusement in the conspiratorial air of the conversation? Or was there a spark of something deeper behind his words, a thirst for uncovering the truth about the hidden hand your father, and his own late father perhaps, believed controlled the Walls?

“Precisely, Erwin. I may call you by your given name, right?” Your father checked again, his question painting your cheeks warm shades of red. At some point between Lord Koch’s front door and your own, the Commander had been promoted from ‘my Commander’ to just ‘Erwin’, as if sharing a carriage ride automatically granted your father the right to address him by his first name.

As you placed the silver tray on the small table in front of them, you stole a glance at the Commander, curious to see his reaction, which came in the form of a smile, quietly playing at the corner of his lips as he inclined his head slightly, a silent acknowledgment of your father's request.

“It’s a solid theory, wouldn’t you say?” the mischievous glint in your father's eyes hinted at a newfound understanding between them, perhaps forged over their shared interest in royal intrigue rather than whatever gratitude your father claimed he held towards the Commander for saving your life in the Forest of Giant Trees. “Now, here’s where Hansel and I disagree,” he continued, leaning forward in his chair with a conspiratorial air. “He thinks it's all about keeping information locked away, some dark secret they desperately want hidden,” he paused, clearly for effect, his gaze flickering around the room as if checking for eavesdroppers.

“A dark secret, sir?”

Your father nodded, leaning in even closer, his voice now a low rumble. “Hansel believes it’s about manipulating the very fabric of history itself. Imagine," he said, his eyes widening with a dark intensity, "rewriting the past to suit their needs, erasing any trace of their true origins or some terrible deed they committed."

He leaned back again, a satisfied grin spreading across his face. “Think about it. Controlling the past is the ultimate power, wouldn't you agree, Erwin? By messing with the records, they control what everyone knows, they keep people blind to the truth, forever dancing to their tune. Thank you, buttercup,” your father said when you added two cubes of sugar to his tea. You mockingly mouthed a silent ‘buttercup’ at the Commander across the table, who tried to hide an amused chuckle behind a raised teacup.

Despite his apparent amusement, however, you recognized the struggle flickering behind his eyes. Concern, perhaps. After all, royal calumny was supposed to have claimed the lives of many, including his own father. Or was it an even heavier burden? A reminder of all the unanswered questions he had voluntarily inherited from him, those haunting mysteries he had vowed to unravel on his behalf.

“Aren’t my daughter’s pastries fantastic?” your father boomed, switching the mood with a hearty laugh. “I think the Survey Corps kitchen could’ve used her talents more than your squad, wouldn't you agree, my Commander?” he joked, a proud smile splitting his face as he dunked the corner of a freshly-baked biscuit in his tea, “no dangerous expeditions for her, just pastries and biscuits for everyone at the headquarters. A win-win situation for each one of your soldiers, wouldn’t you say?”

The Commander dipped his head slightly, a barely perceptible smile gracing his lips for a fleeting moment before it vanished. He took a measured sip of his tea, his eyes locking with yours across the table before he murmured, in a voice so low it brushed only your ears, “Everyone except for one.”

A faint smile, almost imperceptible, tugged at the corner of your lips. Two. You answered in your head, a conversation flickering between the two of you without a single word spoken.

It was a secret message only he could decipher, similarly to how the hint of affection now hidden in his gaze was something only you could see. This was your secret language, born from shared peril on the field, one you had perfected through stolen glances, clandestine touches, and secretive moments like this.

“Goodness! I should invite Erwin more often!” your father jumped excitedly, his eyes widening at the sight of the overflowing platter your mother brought in. “I'd ask what the occasion is for all this hospitality, but it’s not every Saturday we have the Survey Corps commander over for dinner, is it?”

You chuckled as you carefully arranged the small pies your mother had brought on individual saucers, each one holding their very own miniature piece of sunshine: the vibrant yellow slice of tomato you had placed on top.

"Don't forget your vegetables, everyone," you teased, placing a dainty silver fork beside each pie.

Though they weren't exactly an everyday treat, tomato pies were a familiar comfort you enjoyed quite often. They were simple, nourishing, not particularly difficult to make, and your mother could practically whip them up in her sleep. Today, however, you understood your father’s surprise. His favorite treat was still familiar in taste, yet transformed in appearance, which you had taken special care with this afternoon, an unusual twist meant to be a delightful surprise for the Commander.

"These look fantastic, Madam," he remarked, taking the plate your mother was offering.

"All credit goes to her," she replied, her hand gesturing your way.

You met his gaze in the middle of the tearoom, another silent exchange passing between you as your lips offered him a small, furtive smile in return.

"A delectable surprise, indeed," the Commander said, a smile crinkling the corners of his eyes before they returned to the pastry, his gaze leaving a lingering warmth on your skin as some sort of ‘thank you’ note, perhaps. And then, when he took a bite of the buttery, brandy-infused crust, and the taste made those same lines beside his eyes deepen, a quiet yearning started to bloom within your chest.

Here, in your parent’s tearoom, bathed in the gentle afternoon sunlight and the comforting scent of baking, he seemed a world away from the horrors he faced daily. This was the kind of life he deserved, wasn't it? Quiet, comfortable, a far cry from battles with flesh-eating giants and the mangled pile of bodies they left behind. An afternoon tea with a nice conversation, and a plate of perfectly golden, tomato-topped pies – these were the simple pleasures he rarely, if ever, experienced.

As you watched him savor the pie in quiet appreciation, a sting of possessiveness, sharp and unexpected, twisted in your gut, as you found yourself desperately wishing that you could be the one to create these peaceful moments for him, not just this once, but for a lifetime.

"Sir, Madam," he began suddenly, bringing you back from the sea of thought you drifted to ever so often, "your daughter has a real talent for making the simple appear..." He paused, letting his deep, husky voice please not only your ears, but a secret, sensitive path down your body—a path that, though hidden beneath your dress at the moment, he happened to know very well "...utterly delightful."

The steam escaping from the teapot wasn’t a match for the eager summer now burning between your legs; his lips, as well as the smirk tugging at them, acting as a delicious reminder, both tempting and frustrating, of a desire you couldn't indulge, not while your parents were present at least.

"Thank you, Commander," You answered, your eyes still indulging in the sweet curve of his bottom lip, “but it's truly not difficult when the produce is this beautiful," you said, gesturing towards the vibrant yellow decoration atop the pie. And it was true. The Lemon Blush were a gentle variety. Sweet, sunshine-colored things, their bottoms blushed in lovely sunset pink. “Truly a pleasure to work with," you finished, your smiling lips tainted with a bit of mischief that betrayed you weren’t referring to the fruit exclusively.

A soft chuckle escaped his in response. Like honey on a summer afternoon, you loved the way it lingered in the air: the sound of his laughter, a sweet reminder that beautiful things still existed, a melody you always replayed in your head, long after it was gone.

Still wearing the same smile on your lips, you settled beside your mother, whose vigilant eyes you suddenly became very aware of, and when you turned to face her, you were not met with her characteristic warmth, but with the unreadable mask she now wore over her features. Your entire face started to mirror the blush of the tomatoes themselves upon realizing she had been watching you intently, it was unclear how long, but it was certainly long enough to make your joyful demeanor falter, your smile vanishing as quickly as it had appeared.

Luckily for you though, your father, always blissfully immune to any type of awkward tension, unknowingly came to your aid with a hearty chuckle. "Don't let her fool you, Erwin. Most nights, it's a way simpler fare in this household."

You flashed him a playful glare, his intervention momentarily making you forget about the weight settling within you.

“Seems ages since my darling daughter graced us with her culinary flair. Last winter, wasn’t it? Can you believe it? Ha! How long must a poor old man wait for his sweet buttercup to spoil him again!” your father continued, a touch of mock-hurt in his voice, and your eyes involuntarily rolled at his words.

“Admittedly, it was a special occasion back then too,” he conceded, his voice adopting that pretentious tone he reserved for embellishing stories, for making them grander than reality. The playful glint in his eyes gave away the exaggerated version of whatever tale he was about to tell, even though his lips were yet to utter a single word. “Hansel’s nephew, a fine young lord, came to formally request my daughter’s hand in marriage,” he finished with a conceited smile, his mouth blissfully stuffed with cake and a large crumb clinging to his beard, sweetly oblivious to the way his words had dragged your heart to the very pits of your stomach.

-

next chapter

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[lindsey-laufeyson]

Distractions- Chapter 7

Distractions Masterlist

Pairing: Reader x FWB!Tom Hiddleston

Series Warnings: SMUT, fluff, angst, friends with benefits

“Just give it a try! I know you’ll like it,” you tried to persuade Tom, but he was wary to say the least.

“Absolutely, not! It’s disgusting!”

“Come on, Tom, open up,”

“You are a disturbed individual, you know that?”

“And you are a snob. Lots of people do it!”

“That is probably the thinnest argument you’ve ever made.”

“Just drink the damn soda!” 

You were on lunch break, and upon learning that Tom had never tried mixing all of the different sodas in the soda fountain when he was growing up, you decided to go to McDonald’s and do just that, in an effort to get him to try it. Now as the two of you were standing at the craft services table, you attempted to nudge the straw against his tightly pressed lips, but he quickly dodged it, picked up a grape from the fruit tray, and threw it at you. Your jaw dropped in an offended gasp before you narrowed your eyes, grabbed a handful of pretzels, and launched them at him. This continued back and forth several times. The floor was riddled with edible ammunition by the time Trevor the PA walked up on the scene.  As the resident stoner, he wasn’t the most productive production assistant, nor was he the brightest, but he was the most easy-going one to say the least. Any other PA would have been annoyed by the mess because they would be the ones to have to clean it up. You’d wager the only thing that might upset Trevor was the wasted munchies, and even that didn’t seem to phase him at this particular moment.

“Will you two just fuck and get it over with already?” Trevor said casually, completely unaware of the fact that you and Tom were, in fact, fucking. A lot. 

You couldn’t hold back a laugh as you took a sip of your soda, causing it to go up your nose and down your windpipe, putting you in a coughing fit.

“Don’t mind her,” Tom told Trevor, gesturing towards you. “You’ve just corrupted her very fragile sensibilities,” he teased.

“Oh piss off!” you choked out.

Tom put a hand to his ear. “What was that, love? We can’t understand you while you’re choking on that swill.” Still coughing, you held up your middle finger towards him. He laughed and turned back to Trevor. “Are you coming out with everyone tonight?”

“Wouldn’t miss it,” the PA responded absentmindedly, looking at you concerned. “Is she alright?”

Still unable to speak, you exchanged your middle finger for a thumbs up while you took another sip of soda to try to quell the coughing. 

“She’s fine,” Tom answered. “She tends to choke on things a lot actually.”

This time your drink came spraying out of your nose and mouth in a completely unintentional spit take that would have given even Danny Thomas a run for his money. Tom keeled over in a belly laugh while Trevor looked at you both like you were crazy.

“Uh, see you guys tonight, I guess…” he mumbled as he awkwardly backed away and left.

You kicked Tom in the shin. “Ow! What was that for?” he protested through his laughter.

“You are such an asshole,” you told him, laughing as well. 

“For making you laugh?”

“For turning me into a human soda fountain!”

“Well at least that heinous concoction is now on the floor where it belongs!”

“And all over me!”

He looked you up and down and then shrugged. “Worth it.”

…

As filming progressed, the producers were pushing for everyone to work longer hours, so as a treat, they rented out a club for the night, on the condition that everyone be ready to work by noon the next day. When Tom arrived he saw that there were a lot more cast and crew members than the first outing, likely because everyone had gotten to know each other better since then– some of you more than others. 

He looked around the room for you, but when he didn’t see you, he went over to his co-star, Warren, who was waving at him to join him at a high-top table.

“She’s not here yet,” Warren said with a knowing smirk as Tom approached him.

Tom played dumb. “Who?”

“Y/n? You know, the one you’ve been flirting with through this whole production?”

He rolled his eyes. “We’re friends, Warren. You know that.”

“Oh please. Everyone knows there’s something going on between you two. You’re practically inseparable.”

“We’re just really close is all. We’re comfortable. It’s easy. But we’re not inseparable.” Tom scoffed at his colleague’s ridiculous deduction.

Warren folded his arms and looked skeptically at Tom. “Then why do you keep looking around for her?”

Tom snapped his eyes back to him. “I’m just seeing who all is here. It’s a better turnout than last time.”

“If you say so,” he replied, clearly unconvinced. “I’m going to go get a drink. Do you want anything?”

Warren took Tom’s drink order and walked over to the bar, leaving him standing at the high-top table by himself. He hadn’t lied to his co-star. You had quickly become one of his closest friends over the last several weeks. He felt like he could talk to you about anything and everything, and you always had so much fun together. So, no, he didn’t lie; he just left out the part about all of the incredible sex the two of you were having, which he admitted was a nice bonus.

Suddenly, the sound of the front door opening and closing caught his attention. Tom looked toward the entrance and swallowed hard. There you were, in a short, crimson dress that hugged every curve of your body, with lipstick and heels to match. He couldn’t seem to tear his eyes away from you as he shifted uncomfortably, his trousers suddenly feeling a bit tighter than they did a moment ago.

He watched you walk to the bar and order a drink, entranced by the way your hips swayed with every step. While you waited for your drink, you scanned the room, meeting his gaze in the process and shooting him a wink. He gave you a cheeky wink back, and the two of you snickered at each other from across the room. 

“Whiskey neat,” Warren said, returning from the bar and setting a glass in front of Tom. “What are you giggling at?”

“Nothing,” Tom replied, smiling and shaking his head as he turned his attention back to his friend. “Thanks for the drink, Warren.”

Warren waved him off. “Don’t mention it. It looks like you might need it anyway.” He nodded toward the bar.

Tom followed his co-star’s gaze back to where you were standing. You had been joined by a man that he only vaguely recognized from set, leaning provocatively against the bar with his hand resting on the middle of your back. Tom’s immediate instinct was to save you from the interaction, even though he knew full well that you were perfectly capable of fending for yourself, but then he realized that you seemed to be genuinely entertained by whatever the man was saying. You were smiling and laughing, leaning toward him slightly and brushing your hair behind your ear… Were you flirting with this man? He felt a pang of jealousy rising his chest, but pushed it back down. You didn’t belong to him. You were allowed to flirt with whomever you liked. You were allowed to do much more than flirt if you wanted to…

Tom attempted to stop his train of thought with a large swig of his whiskey, which resulted in him downing the entire thing and setting the glass back down on the table with more force than he intended. Then, without a word, he made his way to the bar to order another, leaving Warren there to simply roll his eyes and shake his head.

“Macallan neat, please,” Tom told the bartender, being sure to look anywhere but the other end of the bar. Unfortunately, he could still hear the melodic tones of your laugh, undoubtedly in response to a terrible joke from your current suiter. He rolled his eyes. Why was he reacting so strongly to something so silly? The bartender set his drink in front of him, and after thanking her, he took another rather large gulp.

“Whoa, slow down there, tiger,” came your voice from behind him.

Tom turned and couldn’t help but smile when he saw you. “Well hello, trouble.”

“Oh I’m trouble, huh?” you asked, raising an eyebrow at him. 

“In that dress you are,” he replied, tipping his glass toward you before taking another sip. 

You looked down and smoothed out the front of your dress. “You like it?”

“I didn’t say that,” he teased. 

“Well, it’s a good thing I didn’t wear it for you then,” you retorted, scrunching your face and sticking your tongue out at him.

Clearly, he thought, his smile faltering slightly. “It’s good to see you’re having a good time tonight.”

“Unlike you, apparently.” You gave him a playful nudge.

He furrowed his brow. “Why do you say that?”

“You don’t think I noticed you moping over here?” you asked, your tone and expression resembling that of a disapproving mother.

“Just because I’m not actively socializing at the moment, doesn’t mean I’m moping. I promise, I’m fine.”

“Good,” you said, your smile returning. “Because we have the whole night ahead of us!”

“Indeed we do,” he replied half-heartedly. 

“I’m going to go find Kaitlyn, because I intend on getting her drunk tonight!”

He laughed. “Now that I’d like to see! Let me just get another drink and I’ll come and find you.”

“I’ll hold you to that, Hiddleston,” you told him, spinning around to go search for your assistant.

Once Tom had finished his second whiskey and the bartender had poured him a third, he set off to find you and Kaitlyn. On his way, however, he was intercepted by one of the wardrobe assistants. She was a tall, classically attractive woman with long blonde hair, and was quite popular with a lot of the men on set. Tom noticed she was more scantily clad than usual, not that he especially cared. 

“Hey, Tom!” she greeted him, putting her hand on his arm. 

Tom smiled at her. “Tracy! How are you?” he asked. He immediately regretted the question however, because it turned out that Tracy was quite the talker once she’d had a drink. From that one simple question, she seemed to ramble on and on, but Tom was nothing if not polite, so he listened, smiled, nodded, laughed, and responded when necessary. 

At one point during the conversation, Tom glanced around the room and saw you sitting in one of the circular booths with Kaitlyn when the man that had been hitting on you earlier brought you a drink and sat down next to you. As soon as he saw you touch the man’s rather muscular arm, his jaw clenched and he turned his attention back to Tracy. She was saying something about the nuances of creating a good instagram post. He tried his hardest to focus on this perfectly nice girl right in front of him, but his traitorous eyes kept shooting back to you and the man that was practically drooling over you. 

“Would you like to sit?” Tom asked Tracy when he finally got the opportunity to talk. When she agreed, he took her by the hand and led her to a nearby booth, being sure to sit facing away from you to eliminate the distraction. 

Several drinks later, while Tracy hadn’t gotten any more interesting, she had gotten quite a bit more flirtatious. While Tom tried his hardest to enjoy it, he just couldn’t. He was in the middle of devising the best way to let her down easy when he noticed more and more people beginning to make their way to the dance floor, and when you and the man he had deemed “Muscles” joined the throng, his whole body tensed. Tracy’s voice began to fade to a low drone as he watched Muscles grab your hips while you swayed seductively to the beat of the thumping bass. Before he knew it, he was standing and exiting the booth. “Excuse me for a moment,” he muttered to Tracy before swiftly heading toward the exit to the alley. 

As the door closed behind him, he pinched the bridge of his nose and sighed. Then he reached  into his trouser pocket and pulled out a cigarette and a lighter. 

He wasn’t proud of it, but ever since he’d made the regrettable decision to smoke real cigarettes for his role as Hank Williams in I Saw the Light, he’d developed an occasional craving, which mostly only surfaced when he was especially stressed or when he’d been drinking. At that particular moment, it happened to be a bit of both.

He leaned his back against the brick wall, and cupped his hand to block the wind as he lit the tip of the cigarette, taking a few short puffs to ensure it took. Once it was lit, he shoved the lighter back in his pocket and his eyes fell closed as he took a long drag. Then he tilted his head back to rest against the wall and exhaled toward the sky with a drawn out sigh, watching the smoke billow upwards and disappear amongst the stars. 

As Tom felt the nicotine take effect, he tried his hardest to relax. Still, he couldn’t stop picturing that oaf writhing against you on the dance floor. Were you actually interested in this guy? If he asked you to go home with him, would you? With one fist clenched tight in his pocket, he took another drag.

Just then, the music suddenly blared into the alley as the door opened. It was you. Because of course it was you.

“There you are!” you exclaimed as you stepped out and let the door shut behind you. “You okay?”

“I’m fine,” he responded bluntly. “Just needed some fresh air.”

You giggled, clearly quite tipsy at this point in the night. “Could I get in on some of that fresh air?”

He looked at you surprised. “You don’t smoke.”

“Sober me doesn’t smoke, but drunk me likes to be naughty from time to time.” You nicked the cigarette from between his lips and brought it to your own, taking a small draw from the filtered tip and letting the smoke flow from your nose and mouth. Tom would be lying if he said he didn’t find it kind of sexy.

“She’s also a thief, apparently,” he teased with a hint of genuine annoyance as he snatched the cigarette back. 

You shrugged and folded your arms as you leant against the wall next to him. “She does what she wants.”

“And would Muscles in there be included in that?” Tom asked, looking down at his shoes while he took another puff.

“Who?” You looked puzzled for a moment before realization struck you. “Oh, Max? I don’t know. I think he’s just flirting for the hell of it. He’s probably not even that interested.”

Tom scoffed. “Oh please. He’s clearly very interested. And I can imagine he thinks he has a solid chance based on your shameless flirting.”

Your face fell, clearly offended. “And what about you and Tracy? I can’t imagine you’ve been talking to her purely for the riveting conversation.”

“She’s a perfectly nice girl,” he replied simply.

You rolled your eyes while you snagged the cigarette from him once more. “Yeah, with a crazy hot body that she’s practically throwing at you.” You took a longer drag this time, but Tom quickly snatched it back.

“Will you stop?” he snapped at you. “Why do you care anyway?”

Your cold gaze met his own. “You know what? I don’t.” And after briefly putting your hands up in a bitter surrender, you turned and went back into the club.

Tom let out a smoky huff. “Fuck.” He tossed his cigarette in the bin and stormed inside, heading straight to the bar. After downing several shots of whiskey, he quickly found Tracy, who looked pleasantly surprised he came back. He put out his hand. “Shall we dance?”

…

The next morning Tom woke up with a splitting headache and a pit in his stomach. Keeping his eyes closed to avoid the harsh morning sun, he thought back to the night before. His last clear memory was his row with you in the alley. After that things became more and more blurry. He rubbed his temples as he tried to think. He vaguely remembered dancing with Tracy, if you could even call it dancing. It was probably more like sloppy, handsy grinding. He grimaced to himself when he remembered you and Max “dancing” in a similar fashion, and in response he… Tom groaned as his scotch soaked brain brought forth the faint image of snogging Tracy in the loo. Shit. Had he and Tracy…? 

Slowly, he rolled over, bracing himself for what, or who, he might find. To his relief, Tracy wasn’t there. To his disappointment, neither were you. At least he knew now that he hadn’t brought Tracy home with him. Of course, that didn’t necessarily mean that nothing happened. He attempted to remember how the night had ended, but his pounding head was making it harder and harder to focus. 

Resolving to look to his phone for clues, he unlocked the device and squinted at the bright screen. Then, when he opened his messages, his stomach flipped.

…

This is what hell feels like, you thought, fighting the urge to vomit. You opened your eyes briefly to find that your bedroom was spinning, so you quickly squeezed them shut again, thankful that at least you woke up to your own bedroom spinning and not someone else's. 

Oh god. Max. 

Hesitantly– and ever so careful not to worsen your nausea– you turned over to your other side, revealing nothing but empty sheets. Thank god.

Max was an Abercrombie & Fitch looking guy who worked in set construction— someone you’d never expected to even notice you, and frankly, not typically the kind of guy you would go for, but you were so flattered by his sudden interest that you humored him for a bit. 

While the attention was nice however, you were holding out for better company. Unfortunately, ‘better company’ had decided to be an aloof ass, and when Tracy started flirting with him, you knew you didn’t stand a chance. Almost every straight single man in the cast and crew had been ogling her since production started, and though Tom had never shown any interest in her that you’d seen, you were convinced that he wouldn’t be able to resist her once she had served herself up on a silver platter like that.

So, you decided to give Max a shot. You flirted and let him buy you drinks (evidently way too many drinks), and when people started to dance, you let him escort you to the dance floor. Was he a bit of a meathead? Absolutely. But you were feeling sexy as hell in your new dress and you didn’t want it to go to waste. Still, you couldn’t help stealing the occasional glance at Tom and Tracy who were getting cozier and cozier by the minute. That is until Tom suddenly disappeared, at which point, being his friend, you got a bit concerned and went to look for him. You probably would have been even more concerned when you found him smoking in the alley, but you were quite tipsy at that point, and if you were honest, he looked so damned sexy with a cigarette, even if it was a disgusting cancer stick. 

Then you thought back to your conversation. You couldn’t remember exactly what was said, but you did remember Tom being kind of a dick, actually, which was completely out of character for him. After that, all you could remember was storming off to get another drink and joining Max back on the dance floor. 

The rest of the night was a complete mystery, but on the bright side, you were home, you were safe, and you hadn’t slept with Max.

As if on cue, you heard a sudden sleepy sigh come from the floor near the foot of your bed. Your eyes became wide as saucers. Clutching your duvet to your chest with one hand, you crept to the end of your bed and slowly peered over the edge like a child checking for monsters. 

“Fuck,” you groaned quietly when you saw the source of the noise. It turned out that you indeed had not slept with Max, because there, lying face down on the floor, completely naked, was Trevor the PA.

Taglist: @the-princess-of-loki, @kikster606, @chronicallybubbly, @princess-ofthe-pages

[rabioa]

The Resonance of Static

Chapter 1 - Hit the Road Jack

Sinner!Reader x Alastor

Mr. Sandman, bring me a dream Make him the cutest that I've ever seen Give him two lips like roses and clover Then tell him that his lonesome nights are over! ---

You lived comfortably in Hell as a writer for VoxTek but your life takes a sharp turn when static fills the white noise in your life. Now Alastor, the infamous Radio Demon, has his eyes on you as his latest bit of entertainment. Will you be able to shoo the demon away, or will he pull you into his twisted song? Or: Alastor bumps into you during your chore run and instantly decides to play with you

[riversimmone]

Three's A Crowd - Chapter 9

RiverOfTheSand

Summary:

SasuSaku. He didn't mean to kill that man. He had simply reacted to being attacked. And now Konoha is forced to hunt down the rogue members of Team 7, or risk open war. Eventual NaruHina.

XXX

Read from the beginning. This is a work in progress story you can find on tumblr and AO3 and completed on FF.NET.

[All tumblr posts will be tagged ‘Three’s A Crowd’ with their corresponding chapter for quick and easy access.]

Enjoy. :)

Chapter Nine: Shared Silence.

Sometimes he felt like he was someone else, like another person was living his life for him. There was a darkness inside of him that he couldn't explain, that he couldn't excuse and that he couldn't control. The stench of his mistake permeated his senses for days after Sasuke Uchiha had killed the brother of the fire daimyo.

He'd awoken from a dream-like state only to realise that he hadn't been imagining things. And no matter how he'd felt at the time, or the excuses he'd told himself in those moments of bloodlust, he hadn't meant to kill the old man. He wanted to be better than that, having left Konoha not as an act of disloyalty, but to follow the faint lead that Orochimaru had left behind.

In retrospect, three Genin who had just lost their loved ones and were barely out of the academy weren't going to be able to take down the Sannin. But really, killing Orochimaru wasn't something they often talked about. The subject was raised so rarely that there had been no actual discussion on how they would do it. They had never entertained the idea that they would be a match for the snake. But Sasuke wouldn't stay in Konoha knowing that hunting down that monster wasn't even being considered. He couldn't walk the streets of Konoha, pretend it wasn't going to happen again, and never try to do anything about it.

The final straw in his decision had been partly overhearing the elders, but also discovering that Orochimaru had stolen Uchiha relics, not to mention the Uchiha clan (or what was left of it) was the main reason for his attack.

So he had to get stronger, he had to find the snake and kill him, even if it was the last thing he ever did. But Konoha was rebuilding too slowly and everyone was needed in the reconstruction efforts. It left him feeling useless, fidgety, and frustrated. These were never good combinations in him. He wasn't normally so rash or impatient, and the shift in his perspective, his realisation that staying in Konoha was just hampering his desire for revenge, was a great motivation to leave. He'd often wondered what would've happened if Sakura hadn't realised what he was about to do and insisted on coming with him. She was more brains than brawn back in the academy, but after their numerous training sessions together, he'd seen a kind of strength in her that no-one else had bothered to look for. It might've had something to do with why he'd eventually given in to her romantic advances.

And then there was Naruto. He understood the baka's desire not to be left out, but never got how he could turn his back on his dream to one day become Hokage. If he'd stayed in Konoha, he might've one day accomplished that. It was impossible now. That blonde idiot confused him to no end.

But now, with the sun setting and the dark undergrowth of surrounding woodland as his destination for the night, Sasuke didn't know what he wanted anymore. He didn't know if there was any point in this quest for revenge. They'd been on the road for six years, found out more about Orochimaru's movements than anyone else in Konoha, but were they strong enough? His Sharingan was powerful, but he worried it wouldn't be enough when the time came. What they needed was more power.

He glanced backward discreetly as the sounds of early evening insects filled the tense silence around him. Just like they had with the caravan, Sakura and Naruto were giving Sasuke a wide berth. She'd tried to approach the Uchiha but he wasn't responsive, making her worry even more for him. They needed to get to Kumo, get this mission over and done with, and then take some time off. Maybe even splurge on paying to occupy an entire bathhouse to themselves for awhile. They definitely needed something to soak away this stench around them.

Sakura remembered the first time Sasuke had killed unnecessarily – he'd gotten his Sharingan before they left Konoha, but the first time he'd used it after going rogue, he'd killed without thinking. The pinkette had had nightmares for weeks about those screams. Since then, he'd only let his bloodlust overwhelm his rational mind a few times, and it still terrified her, what his Sharingan was capable of. But this time, it hadn't been his kekkei genkai – he'd used the sword to kill the old man. Sakura had spent the last couple of days watching him silently, occasionally brushing his arm in a gentle, comforting way, with no response.

This was definitely different from the other times. Maybe he'd finally snapped…

So she cried herself to sleep, silently of course – she'd long given up on the weak Sakura who wore her heart on her sleeve. Naruto wasn't fairing any better, having seemingly lost his voice and didn't even try to approach Sasuke. He kept close to Sakura however, only moving away when a particularly nasty glare from Sasuke (glinted red) was directed at him. He just wanted to comfort the only person in Kitsúne that wasn't possessed.

Neither Sakura nor Sasuke knew about the Kyuubi… Naruto had used its chakra occasionally, but only when pushed to. He wanted to tell them, but every time the chance presented itself, fear clutched at his chest. After all, he wouldn't be surprised if they wanted nothing to do with him afterward. Orochimaru may have engineered the attack on the leaf that ruined their lives, but the hand that had been the coup de grâce had been a jinchuriki.

X X X

They looked more sombre than she'd have thought possible. Tsunade surveyed Team Guy in the wake of their mission report, her eyes lingering on Neji, who was the only one looking slightly furious. Someone powerful had fooled his Byakugan (even though it had only succeeded because Neji had never seen that genjutsu before) and the Hokage thought immediately of Sasuke Uchiha's Sharingan. She kept this to herself however, as it was still considered top secret – rumours abound about many rogue Shinobi but some facts were easier to piece together than others. There had been a string of people with memory loss in wave country six months ago, and in the land of wind several weeks before that.

Tsunade had long believed that genjutsu was more destructive than most ninjutsu as the mind was a delicate thing – far more difficult to heal than a normal injury. It was why she took it more seriously – after all, one of the most powerful clans to ever exist excelled in genjutsu.

'Well, they used to.'

She sighed. And if Sasuke Uchiha had something to do with what was going on, there wasn't much she could do about it, especially if he'd progressed with his Sharingan enough to affect the battleground in the way Neji had describe. Fortunately, even though they hadn't heard or seen from any of the former members of Team Seven for six years, their motivations had nothing to do with harming Konohagakure.

Shizune knocked on the Hokage's door, waited for the "enter" from Tsunade and then bowed. "I have Kakashi Hatake for you ma'am, as requested."

"Thank you Shizune."

Guy greeted his eternal rival jovially, re-sparking some of his normally upbeat disposition, and Kakashi just sighed deeply. He really wasn't in the mood for one of Guy's speeches, and tuned out as the spandex clad man started on about how his youth had betrayed him and having this eternal rival around was sure to bring it back. (Okay… so the tuning out hadn't actually worked this time – he was getting old after all.)

"Kakashi," Tsunade said. "Fetch Kurenai Yuhi's team. She's taking some time off so you'll be her replacement on squad eight."

'Why couldn't Shizune have just done that?' "Yes Lady Hokage," Kakashi shunshined out and Gai frowned.

"Are you sure it's wise sending out another team?" He asked.

"The perpetrators know our faces," Tenten said, her eyes on Neji however – he was watching and listening but not making any input.

"Yes, but they'll still stand out as Konoha ninja, so in the end, what does that matter?"

"Guy," Tsunade said, "you're not being left out. I have a separate mission for you. Just wait until Kakashi returns with the others," she added as he moved to interrupt.

Tenten kept her worried eyes on Neji the entire time, but it didn't take Kakashi long to track down Kiba Inuzuka, Shino Aburame and Hinata Hyuuga. Tsunade stood up and moved in front of her desk, leaning back on it wearily. She was older than she looked of course, and right now, she was feeling it.

"Are we to move as two teams?" Lee asked, looking very excited about that possibility.

"No. I've sent a message to Kumo," Tsunade said, "and their informants have placed the rogues somewhere between the southern border to the land of frost and lightning country. While Team Kakashi–" (Kiba growled insolently at this title) "–goes ahead to scout out the area, I want Team Guy to stay in their shadow. You are to follow them and not make yourself known unless you encounter resistance."

"Lady Hokage?" Hinata asked, bowing slightly. "What about the rumours of Kitsúne being in the land of frost? Is this connected?"

Tsunade exchanged a worried look with Shizune. "Actually, you might encounter them. I've been putting together all the information we have of them and I think I've figured out who they are."

X X X

[stormz369]

☕💖 Can I Get Your Number? ☕💖 Ch 3

Jason Todd x Chubby! Reader (fem)

written with a female reader in mind, first person pov, no use of Y/N, fluffy, mild angst, will probably get NSFW later, let me know if there's anything else I should tag this with!

warnings: reader character dealing with anxiety from previous chapter (non-descriptive),hinted at trauma from fatphobia, hints of Jason's self esteem and body image issues, otherwise it's fluff central

word count: 2.2k (oops? 😅)

Chapter Selection

Ding!

I looked over at my phone, briefly considering not picking it up. When I got through my front door I had ripped my jeans off, suddenly hating everything touching me. I showered, scrubbing the night off until my skin was raw and tingling, and now I was curled up on my bed sheets, having a good cry. I didn't really want to talk to anyone right now…

Ding! Ding! … Ding!

God, whoever it was was insistent though … I sighed softly and picked it up, checking the messages:

Jason: Good morning! I am so sorry for the sudden disappearance - my phone broke on my way to visit my brother! 

3:15am

Jason: Just got back into town, so I've finally got the sim card in an old one for now.

3:17am

Jason: I feel bad, I owe you a week of good mornings! 😭

3:17am

Jason: And sorry for spamming you - I just didn't want you to think the worst for a second longer than necessary…

3:18am

I stared at the screen for a long while. Jason was back … just like Red Hood said. Huh… 

Me: Don't worry about it, shit happens!

3:40am

Jason: … What are you still doing up? 

3:41am

I briefly considered telling him everything. Maybe it would feel good to tell someone … or maybe it would feel even worse. We didn't really know each other yet, who knew how he would react? Nausea gripped my stomach and I shook my head, taking a few deep breaths before replying.

Me: Just got home is all. Picked up a late shift tonight.

3:50am

Jason: That's a hell of a late shift, that must have sucked!

3:52am

Me: … Yeah, honestly it wasn't great… 😔

3:53am

Jason: What are you doing tomorrow?

3:54am

Me: Nothing in particular, y?

3:56am

Jason: That settles it then! No more excuses, come hell or high water I will see you tomorrow!

3:56am

I stared at the screen, not sure how to feel about that idea. I did want to see him again, but I also really just wanted to sleep for 48 hours straight…

Jason: Seriously, name a time and place. We'll do anything you want! 😁

3:59am

Me: You don't have to do that, Jason - you just got back! Don't you need to work?

4:00am

Jason: Nope! We came back a day early, so I am all yours!

4:02am

Me: … All mine, huh? 😏

4:05am

Jason: 100%! Anything you want, name it!

4:06am

Me: … Gotham City Mall, meet in front of the bookstore at … say 4?

4:08am

Jason: Perfect, see you in 12 hours! Good night

4:08am

Me: Good night Jason

4:09am

I was exhausted, but couldn't seem to sleep. I was still coming down from the anxiety and adrenaline from being attacked, and now I was also nervous and tentatively excited about seeing Jason. This was the step that usually proved someone was playing games with me. I sighed softly, sliding a hand down my soft tummy. I didn't mind the way I was shaped, but other people sure had a way of making it seem like the end of the world… I silently begged the universe; let this one be good. No more games, let it be real this time…

When I finally did sleep, my dreams were filled with red. Blood all over the pavement, staining everything. Red chrome staring me down as I cried. Large hands, so gentle against my cheeks, pulling me against a warm, broad chest…

I woke with a start and peered over at my discarded clothes in a heap from the night before. Red Hood's flannel peaked out from under my ruined pants, taunting me; I was about to go on a date and I was dreaming about another man? A man I was surely never going to see again no less? That's real healthy, well done Brain.

I stepped over the clothes on the floor, not wanting to deal with the mess left over from last night, and selected a cute but comfortable outfit. I ate a quick breakfast, spent longer than I'd care to admit on my hair and makeup, and headed downstairs to catch the bus to the mall.

My anxiety grew as I approached the front doors. It’s a trick, it must be a trick. The cold air conditioning hit me in the face, a welcome respite from the summer heat, and I made my way toward the bookstore. He's a hottie, and really sweet. Or at least knows how to play sweet. He's definitely not actually interested. I could see the sign for the bookstore on the other side of the mall. And he's a Wayne too! What could a Wayne want with me?? … Oh god, I threatened them, didn't I? I told the little one I'd stab them if they came back to the table. Why did I say that???

I blinked a bit, pausing. That was him, leaned against the wall right next to the bookstore. He had actually shown up. I watched him scroll on his phone for a minute before looking up and scanning the crowd. When his eyes landed on me I continued walking toward him. He pocketed his phone, kicked off the wall, and walked over to meet me, a little grin lighting up his face.

“You're actually here…” the words left my mouth before I could reconsider, my disbelief apparent in my tone. Jason looked a bit confused at that, awkwardly rubbing the back of his head.

“Well, yeah? … You said 4, right?”

“Sorry! Yes, I said 4. I just … I honestly wasn't sure this was … real…”

“Why wouldn't it be real?”

I blushed a bit, clearing my throat slightly; “n- never mind! Sorry, I had a weird week; my brain hasn't fully caught up.”

He nodded a little, smiling gently. “Well, I hope it's getting better at least.”

I nodded. “Yeah, it is. Thanks. … So, what should we do?”

“Like I said last night; anything you want.”

“Well, … we're right here, do you want to start at the bookstore?”

He nodded and fell into step beside me, smiling gently. I could feel his eyes on me as I walked into the store, browsing the aisles. It was odd how comfortable this was; he was a good half foot taller than me, and at least 200 pounds of pure muscle. If his arms and cheek were any gauge he was absolutely covered in old scars, and he had a bandage on one forearm so whatever gave him the scars probably wasn't confined to the past.

I should be terrified - everything about my upbringing told me this was a dangerous situation to be in. But when I saw the look in his eyes, like I was the most interesting thing in the world, all of my self-defense training fell out of my head. The voices urging me to get to safety quieted, all my instincts stilled, and there was peace. His eyes were so beautiful… 

“... Is there something on my face?” He blushed a bit, chuckling awkwardly.

I blinked, looking away. “Sorry! I wasn't staring, I just …”

“... Did you want to ask about this?” he pointed to the scar on his cheek.

“Huh? No! I have a policy of not asking people about stuff like that; you'll tell me or not on your own time. No, I just … I like your eyes is all …’’ I blushed brightly, staring at but not reading the back cover of a book.

“... My eyes?” I nodded, still pretending to read the back cover. “... You're really not going to ask about my scars?”

“Unless you want to talk about them, it's not any of my business.”

“... You're a very unusual girl.”

“Because I'm not going to pry about something you may or may not want to talk about, particularly on a first date?”

“Well, they're usually the first thing anyone wants to talk to me about. If they don't avoid me in the first place…”

I frowned a bit at that. If we met under any other circumstances, I would have taken one look at him and ducked my head to avoid an interaction. “... People suck…”

“It's not their fault; I'm intimidating…” I cautiously looked over at him. He was also staring at a book cover, a pensive little frown on his face.

“... I don't think you're intimidating.”

His eyes darted over and back to the book, and the corner of his mouth curled up ever so slightly. “... Thanks.”

I nodded, setting the book down. “.... So …”

“So? …”

“... Play a game?”

He chuckled, looking over at me. “A game?”

I nodded. “You tell me some of your favorite things in books, I'll tell you some of mine. We separate, select a few of our favorites that the other might like, and reconvene.”

“Alright. Is there a way to win this game?”

“Well I assume we'll each pick at least one book the other hasn't read, so we'll get to make each other read at least one of our favorites. That sounds like a win to me.”

He chuckled. “Alright. Meet back up at those comfy chairs in the back?”

I nodded, telling him some of my favorite tropes, genres, and settings. He did the same, and we darted in opposite directions. He beat me back there, but I eventually approached with a small stack, falling into the seat next to him.

He gestured toward my books; “ladies first.”

I tucked my feet under me, passing him each book in turn and making a case for it. He took each one, read the back cover, and listened intently. He had read one of them, and I figured he'd pick one of the others, if that, but he insisted he was going to get them all. When it was his turn, I wasn't entirely sure what to expect, but Pride and Prejudice wasn't the first thing that came to mind. 

“I've seen a few movie adaptations, but I haven't gotten around to reading it.” I smiled softly, taking the book. It was a beautiful blue cover with swirling calligraphy font in gold.

“An unparalleled tragedy - I insist this is the one you're taking home!” I giggled at his determined tone and nodded.

“Yes, sir!” I made a little mock salute, trying not to smirk at the sudden wave of pink overtaking his face. “... Well, what else do you have for me?”

He cleared his throat awkwardly, looking at the books in his hands. “Ah, um …”

One by one he passed me Hamlet, the Three Musketeers, a book of Greek myths, and … a trashy romance?

“... Not gonna lie, this is an unexpected choice.” I read the back. It looked like your typical bodice ripper.

He chuckled, blushing a bit. “Look, it was the only book I had access to one day and I was losing my mind with boredom. But if you give it a chance, it's actually really well written, and the love interest isn't one of those creepy possessive guys the genre is known for, so …”

I nodded, taking a picture of the book covers. “I will give it a chance then!”

“... Why are you taking a picture of them?”

“... To get later? I'll start with this one, since you were so determined that I read it.” I held up Pride and Prejudice. Jason gathered up the others, putting them on his stack, then gently took Pride and Prejudice from me as well.

“Or I could just get them for you.” 

“What? Jason, no. I mean, that’s really sweet of you, but that's way too much!” Between the books he'd picked out for me and the ones I'd selected for him, he was holding at least $200 in his hands. And he'd picked the pretty hardcovers too! 

He shook his head. “I've had to cancel on you at least 5 times, and then I disappeared with no warning. You have been incredibly patient and understanding, and I will make today worth it.”

I blushed brightly, a bit surprised. “Jason, … you're worth waiting for. I enjoy talking to you, you don't have to spend money on me for today to be worth my time.”

He looked away uncomfortably, bright red, holding the stack of books to his chest. “... I … I like talking to you too … just let me do this, yeah? Call it a first date splurge.”

“... Alright, if you're sure. But I don't want you making a habit of this.”

He nodded, smiling softly. “Don't worry; I know you're a strong, independent woman.”

I nodded once, chuckling. “Damn right.”

Jason grinned, god he had an infectious grin, and led me to stand in line together. He held the stack of books in one hand, and we chatted a bit more while we waited for our turn. I was looking at a selection of little plushies in the impulse items when I felt something brush ever so slightly against my finger. I looked down; his trembling hand was next to mine, his pinky slightly extended toward me. I chuckled softly, extending mine toward him, and gently linked our fingers together. He stiffened ever so slightly before relaxing into it, gently squeezing back.

Next ->

Divider by @saradika (and my thanks for making them free to use!)

Taglist (let me know in the comments if you want to be added or dropped!)

@jawdropforkpop @krys0210 @snowy-violet @superthoughts @wordsfromshona

[planetwaynez]

FLOWERS AND GOLDEN STRINGS

CHAPTER ONE

Jason Todd x Fem!Reader

Soulmates AU!

Chapter Synopsis: Jason knos how things works, how people get togheter and how Fate is always working, he just wonders when it's going to be his turn to be loved. Y/N loves her job, she loves the tiny, comfy flowershop and her co-workers and costumes, but it's still Gotham and wierd things are bound to happen, anyways.

WARNINGS: mugging, self-deprecating thoughts, wierd interections, Jason punches a guy, it's pretty chill for a first chapter.

WORDS: 2,2k

TAGLIST: @27drunkdeer @solarrexplosion @mariam12344 @nyxisnotok

Soulmates. The golden string floating around them doesn’t lie and neither does the golden string tattoo that shows up almost right away around their pinkie fingers. 

Jason watches dumbfounded the scene in front of him. Of course, count it with Red Hood to help you find your forever and always while saving you from a mugging in a 7-Eleven. 

Jason scoffs as the couple hug each other, even the guy that was trying to take the money from the cashier stopped in his tracks watching the scene.

“Are you some type of cupid?” the guy with a ski mask asks. The reason why? This is not the first time that the Red Hood is the bridge between soulmates. It happened last month during a rescue in The Narrows after Ivy decided to transform Gotham into a jungle. It happened four months ago when he was stopping a guy from stealing an old lady. It happened one year ago at the Iceberg Lounge while he was taking care of a few Crime Lord Things. 

It seems to be a recurring thing with Jason. He seems to be destined to find others soulmates but not his, apparently. 

“No” he answers, bittersweet, and punches the guy in the face knocking him out cold. 

In the back he can hear the police coming and he knows it’s his cue to leave but Jason can’t help it but to look at the new couple once again, noticing that they already seem so in love with each other. Reluctantly, he leaves the 7-Eleven, with a new theory about himself in mind.

What if he is only meant to, truly, help others in this lifetime? What if he is not meant to have his own forever and always? Maybe this is all due to his death and resurrection, maybe way before that, maybe before he was born, Fate already knew he was not meant to be a whole soul in this lifetime, maybe this is who he is and he has to be ok with that.

The engine roar of his bike is not enough to make his thought spiral stop, it seems it only makes him think more about the things he doesn’t have. The wind is cold and its blowing at him, making him take a deep breath, even with the helmet on he is grateful for the cold in Gotham tonight, it calms him down. 

It's almost six in the morning, so he stops at one of his safe houses. This one is special, he thinks to himself as he gets inside, since it was the first safe house that he got after he started controlling the pit madness, this house, this is like a home. Its purely and entirely his. From the tiny kitchen with all the things he needs to the couch in front of the TV and the bookshelves in his bedroom. The bathroom with one mirror for him to shave, the black courtin dividing the showerhead from the rest. The round table in the kitchen and the two chairs, one for him and one from when Alfred or Roy comes visiting, the toys in the living room in a big pink box for Lian. 

This is a safe house and also his safe space, his little heaven on Earth and that’s why he only comes here after patrol when he needs comfort. He can’t risk people finding out about this place but this time he is just so tired. 

He needs a hot shower, and some tea, and then a deep sleep until the odd hours of the day. But he gets none of that because when he steps his foot inside the house, his phone starts ringing. It 's Roy. 

“Good Morning, Jay!” Roy’s voice is excited on the other side of the line and Jason knows he had a full night of sleep just by his friend's voice. 

“Morning” he answers, voice tired and he can definitely feel a headache forming behind his eyes at this point. But he needs to know what Roy could possibly want at the time of the day.

“Jeez, what happened?” the redhead asks and Jason wants to laugh when he thinks about the 7-Eleven encounter. 

“I just put two soulmates together, by accident, again” Jason answers, taking his combat boots out and lying on the couch, letting his muscles relax a little bit from the tension he's been feeling lately. 

“I can’t believe this” and Roy laughs, because yes, it is a laugh type of situation. Neither Jason can believe his luck at this point. “You have some type of superpower, Jay”

Jason sighs, he thinks its more of a curse but he says nothing about that, changing the subject of the conversation.

“What do you want? Must be a reason for you to call, right?” he says instead, trying to forget the patrol and Roy understands. Deep down, both of them know that Jason is a hopeless romantic and just wants to find his soulmate, but he seems to be running out of luck for himself. 

“Just wanted to remind you that Lian’s birthday is this sunday” the line goes silent, they both know that Jason forgot and it's already saturday morning and he didn’t finish preparing Lian’s birthday present. “You coming, right?”

Jason can’t not come. It’s Lian, after all, his little sunshine.

“Yes, of course I am,” he answers, knowing that he will have to go earlier to patrol tonight to come home earlier and have some sleep before he takes his bike to New York City to attend Lian’s Tea Birthday Party in the afternoon. 

“Good, she will be so happy to see you” Jason can tell Roy is smiling, because he is also smiling thinking about a little front toothless Lian smiling at him on sunday. 

“Yeah, I will be happy to see her too” taking a deep breath, Jason takes his body armor off and relaxes a little bit more on the couch “I gotta go now”

Telling each other goodbyes, Jason gets up from his couch and goes to his bathroom after talking to Roy to take a hot shower, thinking about the only missing piece of Lian’s birthday present. A bouquet of flowers.

He wants to make his goddaughter feel special, so he bought the doll that she's been talking about for months now and decided to give her flowers, since she loves them so much. He also wants to give her a good example of what a guy or a girl should do to make her feel special, that’s his and Roy's goal, to give Lian all the safety they didn't have when younger.  

Jason thinks about that little flower shop near this safe house, this little flower shop he always goes to, just to see if everything is alright when they close late at night, since they are situated near The Narrows, and he knows the owner from when he was a street kid, he takes care of that place. Mrs.Sullivan was always kind to him and he is just repayin that, in his own way. He could go there to buy the flowers, but he will be in full Red Hood gear, since he has his time counted from now on.

Clicking his tongue, Jason finishes his shower and puts in some sweats to sleep. He gives up on the tea and goes directly to bed, thinking about how he will make a bunch of civilians feel not threatened at all when he enters the flower shop later that day. 

It’s almost seven pm and Y/N is tired. The flower shop was busy with clients and with the arrival of the flower supply, but she can’t be sad about it, the more that she sells the more Mrs.Sullivan will pay her commissions, and she can’t deny it, she loves love. She gets happy to see others happy and with the approaching of the Soulmates Holiday on July 12th she’s been working more than normal and seeing happy people all around, even being close to The Narrows.

She smiles as a girl leaves the store with a huge bouquet for her girlfriend and Y/N feels warmth in her chest, sighing she can’t help it but think about when its going to be her turn to feel the same happiness as the one that is already mated to the other half. 

She looks down, annotating another successful sale when the front door opens and makes that little sound thanks to the noisy hinges of it. 

“Welcome to the Sunshine Flower Shop, how can I help you?” She says it all in one breath and looks up, with a welcoming smile on her lips when she feels her gut get cold. In front of her is standing one of the most dangerous men in Gotham. The Red Hood. 

He is standing there and his presence alone makes the store seem smaller, adding his physic, Y/N feels almost claustrophobic. 

“Do you have lilies?” he asks, his voice a robotic tone because of the helmet he is wearing. She gulps and nods, still smiling softly at him, all thought a little worried.

“Which color?” she questions it and he just stares at her, well at least that's what she thinks he is doing, since she can’t see his eyes with the helmet on. The silence is thick and she can feel the air leaving her lungs bit by bit.

“Which color says I love you best?” When he speaks, Y/N takes a deep breath and feels like her head is once again functioning right. The big bad Red Hood just wants some flowers for his soulmate, no biggie. 

“Honestly, none of them” silence again. Y/N thinks that she might have just made this guy angry and Jason feels like an idiot for not knowing the meaning of lilies. “But the red tulips mean true and eternal love for someone. And it's also a beautiful flower”

Jason looks at her and tilts his head to the side, he can’t help it but thinks that he probably looks more intimidating this way but she looks extremely comfortable in his presence since he started talking to her about the flowers. He can’t help it but also thinks that she would look beautiful standing in a field of red tulips. He blinks, slightly shocked with his thoughts.

“That will work. Please a big bouquet of those” he watches as she arches an eyebrow and a smirk shows up in her lips, there is also this amused glint in her eyes.

“How big?” she questions it, getting a little notebook and a pink pen in her hands, looking down to annotate something. 

“Big enough that I can’t close my arms around it” he says, thinking about how cute Lian is going to look with a giant bouquet of tulips in her tiny arms. 

“Ok” she says, a smirk adorning her pretty face and turns around, going to the back to make the bouquet. 

Jason looks around, appreciating the little flower shop, always so cozy and almost domestic. He smiles and thinks that this place is just like Mrs.Sullivan and the girl that he was talking to.

A pretty girl. The prettiest he has seen in years. 

He feels something grow in his chest and Jason’s hands are sweating as if he is fifteen again. That 's weird. He does get nervous around pretty girls but not like this, not since he got bigger and stronger.

A few minutes later she comes back with an obscene amount of flowers all wrapped up in a pretty bouquet. 

“Here it is” when she puts it down on the counter his brain stopped working in its full capacity. The only thing in his mind is how beautiful she is, how sweet and how her smile could heal all his old internal wounds only if she smiled at him every morning for the rest of his life.

He pays, thanks her and leaves with the flowers but he can’t shake this weird feeling out of his chest everytime he thinks about that flower shop again.

“She loved you know that, right?” Roy asks Jason as they watch Lian hug her new doll and smell the bouquet of flowers. All the little girls and boys around her are mesmerized with the size of the bouquet and the moms are looking at Jason as if he is some sort of Knight in shining armor. Roy has that smile on his lips that always means that when they finally get to be just the two of them, the redhead will make sarcastic comments about the situation to Jason.

“I know” he answers, looking fondly to his goddaughter, that is talking her friend's ears off about the doll and the flowers that he just gave it to her. “I planned a lot this gift and I am so happy that she loved it”

Roy knows Jason like he knows himself and he is sure that his best friend is hiding something from him and it involves those flowers that his daughter loved so much. He looks at Jason and makes some mental notes about the brunette, anything that could indicate this weird behavior but the only thing Roy notices is the fact that Jason can’t look longer than five seconds to the bouquet.

“When this party is over I want to know what happened at the flower shop” Roy says slowly and with a big smile, to not attract people's attention to them.

“I will tell you don’t worry” Jason answers in the same way, thinking that even if he tries he can’t hide things from Roy, ever.

And that, sometimes, like right now, sucks.

[talk-danmei-to-me]

Incense burner inspired Chengxian smut for your reading pleasure. Soon to be followed up with actual Chengxian smut.

For those who voted in my poll about which flavour of Chengxian smut to write, I went with both. The porn grew plot and so the one shot became a two shot.

[ender1821]

afterglow

chapter 3 posted on ao3: read here!

Rebuilding is a much more daunting task than Gem had once taken it to be.

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(This fic is now a part of the @multidimensionbb MCYT WIP Purge event!)