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extasiswings · 4 years ago

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Get in, clowns. We’re going to the circus. On ao3.

Eddie’s palms are sweaty.

It’s warm outside, the sun beating down on the park bench where he’s sitting, but it’s the nerves that have his hands clammy as he turns his water bottle over between them.

When Buck had walked in the house earlier, he’d taken one look at Eddie and rolled his eyes before shoving him back into his bedroom.

“You can’t wear that,” Buck said, rifling through Eddie’s dresser. He emerged with Eddie’s tightest pair of jeans and shoved them at his chest before turning to the drawers with shirts.

“What’s wrong with what I’m wearing?” Eddie asked, baffled as he looked down at himself and then, skeptically, at the jeans.

“You look like a dad.” Buck’s voice went muffled for a moment before he made a noise of victory and pulled out a deep red, long-sleeved shirt that Eddie’s pretty sure is at least a size too small.

“Kind of hard not to. Since I am one and all. That’s not exactly a secret.”

“Yeah, but you can look like a hot dad who is making an effort instead of a regular dad going to the grocery store or something. You’ll thank me later.”

After Eddie had changed and walked out of the bathroom, Buck’s face shifted—Eddie could have sworn his eyes darkened, that his voice was rougher as he pronounced Eddie much better.

So Eddie knows he looks good.

But his palms are still sweaty. He uncaps the water bottle and takes a sip more to have something to do than because he needs it. And then he starts drumming his fingers against his thigh, needing something to occupy them, some way to move.

He’s tempted to pull out his phone, to reread the latest texts from Bobby or even the shameless teasing in the group text that Buck started with his sisters—and boy, was that a mistake, putting the three of them in touch, because Eddie never in a million years would have told them he was going on a date if he hadn’t done it by accident because Buck’s direct messages happened to be right below the group—

He’s still not sure he should be, is the thing. Dating. He still feels like he can’t quite breathe right when he thinks too hard about it. Can still play that last dinner with Shannon over on loop, from her asking for a divorce to the implication that really being with him again would be so terrible she would have to run for the hills and leave their child behind.

He didn’t exactly have great self-esteem to begin with.

Eddie wipes his palms on his jeans—he’s in the middle of debating whether it’s bad parenting to make up an emergency involving your kid to get out of a date, when—

“Eddie! Hi,” Ana greets, walking up the path.

The anxiety in his chest twists tighter as he gets up from the bench and waves.

“Hey. You, uh—you look really nice,” he says, because it’s true and also the easiest thing he can remember from the last time he did this.

Ana smiles. “So do you.”

There’s a pause that lingers a little too long and then they both start trying to speak at once, cutting off abruptly when they realize. Eddie rubs self-consciously at the back of his neck.

“Should we walk?” Ana offers, nodding down the path where it leads into the trees.

“Sure, yeah,” Eddie agrees.

It’s actually not...bad. She asks him about work and that’s a safe enough topic that he’s comfortable spending a few minutes telling her stories from the station. She shares a little about the challenges of virtual teaching. And then she asks about Chris, and, well, that’s an easy subject—Eddie could talk about Chris all day.

He just finishes the story about the actual building of Christopher’s skateboard—which involved no small amount of comical trial and error on the part of two decidedly not Chris-sized grown men—when Ana gets a thoughtful look on her face and glances sideways at him.

“Can I ask you something personal?” She asks.

Eddie rocks back on his heels and hooks his thumbs in his pockets. “Sure.”

“How long has it been for you?”

Eddie’s eyebrows shoot up. “Since...the last time I dated?”

Ana nods.

“Well…” He wets his lips to stall. “The last person I dated was my wife. And I’m not sure it was really dating in the same way after we were married so...I guess...eleven years give or take?”

He laughs and he can hear the edge of self-deprecation. “That obvious I’m out of practice?”

“No,” Ana says. “No, that wasn’t—it’s really not actually. Although it does explain some things.”

“Things?”

She bites her lip. “Nothing bad,” she insists. “Just—”

“Have you ever been on a date where the other person talked about their ex the whole time and it was kind of obvious they still had feelings for them and you couldn’t help wondering why they weren’t with the ex when they clearly wanted to be?” She asks.

Eddie blinks, scrolling back through their conversation trying to think—he’s pretty sure he hasn’t mentioned Shannon except for the once. And he’s not still—

“In high school, maybe?” He answers. “But I’m not sure—”

“I was trying to figure out if you and Buck ever dated,” she clarifies, and Eddie stops in his tracks, his mind shorting out as he takes that in.

“I—what?”

They’re back at the parking lot anyway, and although they could take another loop around the park, Ana stops by the closest bench and smiles as she leans against it.

“Look, I like you, Eddie,” she says. “And if I’m totally off base and you want to see me again, I will definitely pick up the phone. But if I’m not? I couldn’t not say something.”

“Buck’s my best friend,” Eddie replies. His head is swimming but it surprisingly doesn’t feel bad. More like he’s been handed the clue card for a puzzle he was trying to solve and while the pieces haven’t quite come together fully, they’re getting there.

“You talk about him like he’s your partner. Like the three of you are a family. And when you talk about him you look like…” Ana shakes her head and laughs, but it’s not unkind. Just soft and maybe a little longing. “I would love for someone to look like that when they’re talking about me. Thinking about me. So, I thought you should know. Just in case you didn’t.”

Another puzzle piece falls into place and Eddie sucks in a breath.

“I do like you,” he says.

“Yeah...but you’re in love with him. Right?” Eddie’s quiet and Ana nods.

“I’m gonna go,” she decides. “This was nice, for the record. Maybe we can do it again. As friends next time.”

“Ana—” Eddie calls after her. When she looks back over her shoulder though, he’s not sure what to say except, “...thank you.”

“Let me know how it works out?” She asks. “I’m a little invested now.”

Eddie laughs and runs a hand through his hair. “Yeah...sure.”

He drives home in a daze, so much of the past two years—maybe even longer—suddenly thrown into new light. Everything he’s been afraid of, everything that’s been holding him back—all of the baggage and insecurities that Shannon left behind, that have made him feel like he’s not good enough, like he can’t be a partner to anyone—

He never stopped and looked too hard at what he already had. What he was already doing.

What he has. What he is doing.

With Buck.

In the stark glare of hindsight, it’s easy to see—he was still married when they met, was worn down and bruised and not looking for anything. He needed a friend and Buck slipped in to fill that void and Eddie...put him in a box. Put them in a box. Carefully compartmentalizing every aspect of his life because it was easier that way, because it allowed him to sort through the tangled knots of expectation from any number of other sides, any number of other identities—husband, father, son.

There was no baggage attached to friend. No forgive and forget and take your wife back because kids need their mothers or you’ll drag him down with you or I wasn’t enough.

There was just...Buck. Present. Supportive. Caring about him. Believing in him. The real him—masks off, walls down, warts and all.

The longer Eddie thinks, the clearer things become. His mind flips through memories like a scrapbook—panic attacks and phone calls at two in the morning, nights on the couch playing video games with Christopher and the slower, lingering moments with just the two of them after they put him to bed, all those months sharing a bed in Buck’s apartment while he despaired over being away from his son and Buck reminded him he was a good dad—

How many of those nights had Eddie wanted to kiss him? How many times had he felt that buzz under his skin, the whisper of it would be so easy, only to shove it down because it was too dangerous to deal with.

And when he thinks now about the future, about having someone in his home, in his bed, in his life, when he pictures it, all he can see is Buck.

It feels right.

“I love him,” Eddie says out loud, tasting the words on his tongue, letting them linger.

I love him.

His pulse spikes with his anxiety, but it calms down as he sits with it. Because he knows Buck’s not going to leave. He trusts that. Buck’s seen him at his worst and none of that has ever driven him away. So maybe…

Eddie’s mind flicks back to earlier in the day, to the dark heat in Buck’s gaze as it dragged over him before he looked away.

...yeah. They’ll be okay.

He’s home before he even really registers and takes a few slow breaths before he shuts off the truck and gets out. When he steps through the door, it’s a strange feeling. The space is familiar but not. More...settled somehow. Home.

Home.

Eddie closes the door behind him and follows the sound of running water to the kitchen. He stops in the doorway, leaning against the frame, and spends a moment just watching Buck scrub potatoes in the sink until the other man glances up and notices him.

“Hey,” Buck greets. “Chris is reading in his room, I’m just working on dinner. How was the date?”

God, I love you, Eddie thinks, and nearly has to bite his tongue to keep it to himself.

Yeah. It’s right.

He shrugs. “It was fine. Ana’s nice.”

“When’s the next date then?” There’s an odd note in Buck’s voice that makes Eddie push off the frame and step closer.

“There’s not going to be one,” he replies. “Ana’s nice...but I don’t want to date her.”

Buck stops. Shuts off the water and turns, leaning back against the sink.

“No?” Buck’s brow furrows. “It’s not—do you still feel like you’re not ready?”

“No, it’s not that,” Eddie replies. “I do think I’m ready. But with the right person.”

His heart is pounding in his chest, but it’s not fear. More...anticipation.

He swallows hard.

“Ana said something that made me realize that...I don’t want to start from scratch with some stranger.”

Eddie takes another step closer and Buck inhales sharply, emotions shifting across his face too quickly for Eddie to name them all.

“Eddie…” Buck sounds hoarse, a little disbelieving. He leans forward for a moment before shaking his head, clearing his throat.

“I can’t—I need you to be specific,” he says. “Because I can’t make assumptions here, I can’t—”

Eddie kisses him. Steps in far enough that Buck’s body presses flush against his, slides his hand around the back of Buck’s neck, and kisses him. Buck makes a small noise and grips him right back, his hands curving around Eddie’s hips nearly tight enough to bruise in sharp contrast to the way Eddie’s mouth feathers against his, soft as anything.

“Specific enough?” Eddie breathes, staying close enough that their lips brush again. Buck surges up and uses his grip on Eddie’s hips to turn them, pinning Eddie against the counter as he kisses him again in response. Once, twice, three times, and Eddie shivers.

He hasn’t been kissed in so long, hasn’t been touched with intention like this—he’d forgotten what it felt like. His body floods with heat as Buck’s hands slip under his shirt, spreading wide over his rib cage, and he parts his lips eagerly for Buck’s tongue.

Down the hall, a door closes, and Buck jumps back, Eddie slumping against the counter to keep himself upright. Buck is flushed and panting and Eddie’s pretty sure he can’t look much better, too warm and electric, wanting, wanting, wanting—

Both of them catch their breath and watch the door, but Christopher doesn’t appear. After a minute Eddie catches the faint sound of a toilet flushing and he looks back at Buck.

And he laughs. It bubbles up from his chest like champagne fizz, bright and warm and right, and apparently it’s contagious because Buck starts up as well, stepping in again and sliding his arms around Eddie’s waist, ducking his head to laugh breathlessly against Eddie’s neck.

When they calm down, Buck stays close, his lips feathering over Eddie’s pulse. Eddie hums and closes his eyes as he tips his head back to give Buck better access.

“I’m in love with you,” he says. “In case that wasn’t clear.”

Buck’s lips curve up against Eddie’s skin.

“Well that’s convenient,” he replies. “Since Chris was asking me earlier why you couldn’t just date me if you were going to date again.”

Eddie’s startled into another laugh. “Really?”

“Really.”

Eddie grins and opens his eyes again. “Hey Buck?”

“Yeah?”

“Go out with me?”

Buck snorts and pushes him out of the way so he can go back to the potatoes.

“Help me finish getting dinner together and we’ll see.” But the second Eddie turns away, Buck snags him by a belt loop and reels him back in for another kiss.

“Yes,” Buck says. “Yes.”

And it’s right.

#chapel writes #buddie #eddie diaz #evan buckley #buddie fic #911 fic

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firefly464 · 4 years ago

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The Gilded Cage - Chapter 3

I felt like you guys could use some nice fluff after yesterday, so we zoomed to get this chapter out. Also, oh my god i have so many ideas im so excited ahahahahah

ALSO!! IMPORTANT NOTICE!!! The first section of Chapter 5 of The Real World has been edited slightly. I recommend you go back and reread it :)

Written in collaboration with @i-have-this-now :D

Thank you @rivys for beta reading, editing, and writing :D

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~~~

“Alright then, Eret. Talk to me.”

He sighed and ran his fingers through his hair, trying to calm himself. “George, it’s all…” he trailed off, unable to explain exactly what he was thinking. “What… what happened to me?” he asked, trying to change the subject.

George scoffed. “Did you not hear me when I said you got shot? Did you miss that bit?”

Bad hit him lightly on the arm. “George! That’s not how you support a friend through a trying time!”

“What?! I’m not wrong, am I?”

“Eret, here.” Bad moved himself over on the bed to sit right next to Eret. “We found you passed out in the woods with an arrow sticking out of your arm, so we brought you back here and patched you up.”

“You also were nearly frozen to death. Honestly, I think the reason you didn’t bleed out sooner is because the blood froze over or… something.” George shrugged, a little too nonchalant for Eret’s tastes. “I dunno, I’m not a doctor.”

Bad frowned. “That reminds me… Why were you even out there without a coat? It’s the middle of winter!”

“I- what?” Eret asked, caught off guard by the question. Hadn’t it just been mid summer? He shook his head. He was in some sort of fucked up world, why was he surprised by a change in seasons?

Even so, it made sense. It explained why he had passed out in the first place. After all, running through the woods in the dead of winter without anything to protect him from the cold was a surefire way to give himself hypothermia. Thinking back on it, it was surprising that he managed to last as long as he did. Any longer, and he very likely would have died.

George cleared his throat, dragging Eret back to the present. He realized that his friends were looking at him expectantly, waiting for an answer. “I uh…” He stammered, trying to come up with a decent excuse. “I didn’t exactly have time to grab a jacket. They were kinda chasing me out…”

George’s eyes narrowed. “Who?”

Bad’s let out a small gasp of surprise as he realized what Eret meant. He quickly stood, trying to take the heat off his friend. “Well, you don’t need to worry about them now!” he exclaimed, trying to hint to George that now wasn’t the time. “Here, how about we get you situated? Do you want something to drink?”

Eret stared numbly up at him. “Why are you being so… nice to me?”

“Because we’re friends,” Bad stated as though it were fact. “And you deserve it. Come on, I’ll make some cookies, and you can rest while I do that, okay? George, give him your jacket.”

“What?!” He sputtered. “Bad, I’m not giving him my--”

“Give it.” Something in Bad’s eyes must have made George decide to change his mind right then. The man nodded and grabbed a coat from a nearby hanger and chucked it over to Eret.

Almost instinctively, Eret tried to raise his arm to swat away the incoming coat. Pain tore through him, causing him to let out a small gasp.

“Hey, careful! You don’t want to tear your stitches,” Bad said quickly, rushing to check that the stitches were undamaged. “You’re still healing.”

Eret only watched as his friend undid the bandages that wrapped around his bicep, trying not to wince. His eyes widened when he saw the torn skin, slightly swollen around the places where string held it together. It wasn’t red or bloody, in fact, it looked like it was at least a few days old. He frowned.

“How long was I out?” He asked.

“A day, maybe?” Bad held out his hand towards George, not looking away from the wound. “Could you grab some of the gauze I just prepped? I might as well replace it.”

Eret frowned as he watched George walk out of the small, curtained room. He could hear the sounds of shuffling in what he assumed to be the kitchen.

“A day…?” He asked, glancing down at the scar on his arm. The faint, red line looked several days old, with only a minimal amount of swelling around it. There was no way it had only been a day. Injuries just didn’t heal that quickly. “How is it healing so fast?”

“We tried our best to close the wound as quickly as possible. It would have been better if we had been able to get to you sooner, but I guess beggars can’t be choosers,” Bad sighed. “It didn’t help that you were half frozen to death, so we needed to take care of that first before we could even begin thinking about your arm -- hey George! Grab some regen pots while you’re out there please!”

“Splash potions or normal?” George called from beyond the curtains.

“Normal. We’ve already taken care of most of the outer damage. Now it’s just a matter of getting back all that blood he lost”

Eret sat in confusion, his gaze darting back and forth between the shadow creature in front of him, and the curtain. “That uh… That doesn’t explain how this looks a week old.”

“Well, your buddy Bad knows a thing or two about healing people,” the demon chuckled. “I soaked the bandages in healing potions so that your wound would close up safely.”

Eret stared at the scar on his arm in wonder. “Holy shit, Bad, that’s genius.”

“Language!”

He looked down, having the courtesy to at least look somewhat ashamed “Sorry…”

“It’s alright, you muffin,” Bad laughed. “Didn’t I tell you guys to use this technique already? You know it’s really not healthy to just drink health potions, right? Have you not been taking care of yourself?”

Eret grimaced. “Well, it wasn’t exactly… common in L’Manberg, per se?”

Bad’s face fell. “Don’t tell me. Did Wilbur forget? I know I told him how to!”

“I honestly have no clue,” Eret shrugged. It wasn’t technically a lie, he really didn’t know, but the reason why was entirely different than the implication.

Bad nodded, pride shining on his face. “Well, Eret, I can guarantee you that as long as you stay here with us, we’ll take good care of you.”

~~~

Eret woke slowly and peacefully, a surprise to everyone in the community house. His eyes fluttered open at the sound of a knocking in the doorway, and was startled to see Bad tapping his knuckle against the wall, a plate in his other hand.

“Heya, sleepy-head!”

“What are you--” Eret sat up and rearranged his pillows to support his aching back. “What are you doing?”

The demon grinned. “I’m bringing you cookies, what does it look like?” He sat the plate he was holding down on Eret’s nightstand with a clink.

Eret stared, dumbfounded. “Why?”

“Lots of reasons!” Bad replied, smoothing out the wrinkles in his jacket. “I figured you weren’t feeling too great, so I wanted to do something nice for you to cheer you up!”

“Oh.”

“Plus, cookies taste better than potions, so I figured I could kill two birds with one stone and put the regeneration potion into the cookies.”

“Oh.”

“You have to make sure you eat all of them, okay? Doctor’s orders! I made sure to keep it a small batch so you wouldn’t get stuffed.”

“Oh...” Eret could only stare at the six perfectly round cookies sitting on the plate next to him. This was real, physical proof that somebody here cared about him -- really cared.

Why?

Eret couldn’t think of a good reason why anyone here should care about him. He had betrayed L’Manburg, or so everyone in this world thought. He was untrustworthy. He could turn on his friends at any moment. It would have been in Bad’s best interest to leave him freezing out in the snow, to leave him to die, but he hadn’t. Bad had done the opposite. So--

“Why?” he muttered.

The demon furrowed his brow. “Why what? What do you mean?”

“Why do you…” Eret stared down at his hands, unsure of what exactly he felt. “Why do you care? You have no reason to, I-- I’m a traitor. For all you know, I could turn on you, I could stab you in the back, I could...” he trailed off, not daring to finish his sentence.

A small scoff sounded from the open curtain. “Please, you wouldn’t do that.”

Eret glanced up. George was once more standing in the makeshift doorway, his arms crossed in front of him. “You’ve already invested way too much into this, you wouldn’t just throw it away. Besides, I like to think of it as a double agent. Sounds much cooler than being a traitor.”

Bad turned and faced George with a disappointed frown. “George.”

“What?” The man glanced around nervously. “I’m not wrong.”

Bad sighed and faced Eret once more. “Well, I guess…” He trailed off, seemingly deciding what words fit his answer best. “I think that everyone deserves to have someone that cares about them. And I already cared about you before I found you in the snow.”

“Besides, we all knew what would happen once you pressed that button,” George added, a soft smile on his face. “We all accepted it, and we knew what would happen. You weren’t the only one in the final control room. We’re in this together.”

He could only watch as Bad took a seat on the side of his bed.“You’re our friend, Eret. You still deserve love, and a warm bed, and some nice cookies, no matter what you’ve done. And I want to be able to give that to you, for as long as you’ll let me.”

Eret blinked hard, trying to clear away the tears that threatened to spill over. “Do you mean that?”

A warm smile crossed his face. “Of course! Besides, I may have not approved of your plan, but I still vowed to stay neutral. I knew that this was going to happen, and I’m here to help you through it.”

Eret gave up. The dams he had put up broke, and tears began to stream down his face. He tackled his friend and held him in a tight hug, not daring to let him go. It was slightly strange, considering the fact that his friend was some sort of shadowy-demon monster, but it didn’t matter. The hug was still filled with warmth and love.

It was enough to make a traitor cry.

He could feel a second pair of arms wrap around them as George nestled his head in the space between the other two’s bodies and let out a content sigh. Their tangle of limbs was slightly awkward, but none of them cared. Both George and Bad were too focused on trying to support their friend, and Eret wasn’t focused at all.

Bad rubbed Eret’s back, trying to comfort him as much as he possibly could. Eret’s throat was too tight for him to say what he meant just then, but he hoped that this embrace said it for him.

Thank you.

~~~

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Taglist (feel free to send me an ask if you want to be added) @hismilw @violet–majesty @chiera99 @koi-boye @waffle-time-god @miss-oleum @porkgavor @crafted-dreams @harley-the-pancake @lemonaid-ruru @luminousart @somethingtocrowabout @bee-tubbo @firepowder @boombahey @rayjayo @carry-on-my-wayward-why @echo-delta @star-fruit23

#this chapter is so self-indulgent #i just wanted fluff #thats it #thats the only reason this chapter exists #eret #the_eret #badboyhalo #georgenotfound #dreamsmp #dream smp #dream team #dreamteam #bbh #mcyt #The Gilded Cage #Split Realities #mcyt au #my writing #the real world

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rosyredlipstick · 5 years ago

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clown embers: my heart burns there too

For the anon who asked for a fic rec list for It: thank you for knowing i needed to take a homework break and organizing a list for the fandom i CANT STOP READING

seriously ever since i saw the second film in October i have been going absolutely CRAZY. like, i saw the first one in theaters and was kind “eh” but something unlocked in me after that second film like ???????? !!! so yes i have a TON of recs.

all of these of reddie because the whole thing about pining for your best friend but wait, maybe it actually works out in the end when you’re 40 and reuniting with your friends after 27 years???? fucking gets me. all fix-it fics because IM NOT A MONSTER

some fic authors i rec: Anything theapplepielifestyle has posted! Also ShowMeAHero has a LOT of really great stuff and has been updating regularly, which keeps my little reddie heart burning. Also, check out zach_stone!

oK FIC TIME -

I killed a clown. AMA! By liesmyth

I (39M) got stabbed twice today and now I want a divorce. Help?

Or: the one where Eddie is on Reddit.

This fic Is so hILARIOUS. Seriously. I cant recommend it enough, I was dying laughing the entire time. And the different posts between Eddie and Myra? Loved it.

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but of all these things i like you best of all by Fluffifullness

“You can cook?” Eddie blurts.

Richie blinks. “Yeah. What the fuck? Yes. I know we’re not the pinnacle of functional adulthood, here, but there’s no way I’m the only one in seven, right?”

“No,” Ben admits. He takes a few steps toward Richie, like he hopes fleeing the scene will dispel the momentary awkwardness. “It’s just…”

“I would’ve guessed you mostly do prepackaged stuff,” Mike adds, following Ben’s lead with an apologetic smile of his own. Eddie does, too, except he also stuffs his hands into his pockets and hunches in on himself just enough to attract Richie’s attention, which is why he inadvertently directs most of his retort at him.

(Or: the one where Richie's love language of choice happens to be cooking.)

oh goodness, what an underrated fic. i love the relationship Richie has to build with cooking and showing the others his love for them. and eddies like,,, begrudgingly impressed with it all. love it!

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the universe was made to be seen by our eyes by playedwright

“So. To summarize. I’m stranded on Mars, entirely alone. I have absolutely no way to communicate with my crew or with earth, since our communications antennae turned me into a human shish-kabob. If the oxygenator becomes compromised, I’ll suffocate. If the water reclaimer stops working, I’ll dehydrate. Breach in the Hab means I’ll go poof. And if, for some god-forsaken reason none of those things kill me first, I’m gonna run out of food and starve to death. Oh, and we can’t forget that everyone I know thinks I’m dead. So… yup. Totally fucked.”

On Sol 6, an unexpected windstorm cuts the Ares III Mission short and six astronauts retreat back to Earth.

On Sol 7, the astronaut they left behind wakes up gasping for air.

(Or, The Martian au)

Okay first of all you nEED TO READ THIS SERIES. Wow. I loved The Martian but this AU space just works so, so well for the losers. Read it, love it, cry into your pillow. Thank me later (then message me so we can fangirl about how much we love the series)

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Derry Days by SidleyParkHermit

Everyone starts talking at once, but Richie cuts through the loudest. “Okay, back up, back up. Where are you getting all of this?”

“It’s happened before. I keep dying and reliving this day over and over.”

Bill is the first to speak, turning to Mike. “Uh, is that…”

Mike shakes his head, frowning.

“Shit,” Eddie says. “I was really hoping Mike would know something.

Have I mentioned that I’m a BITCH for time-loop fics? Because i really, really am. And this one, with Eddie in the loop instead of Richie, puts a twist on a familiar fic t make it completely original. Love, love it!

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Now What I'm Gonna Say May Sound Indelicate by IfItHollars

Eddie Kaspbrak has lived his whole life being told that he's delicate, and he's not. And nearly bleeding out in an alien fear demon's lair has helped him realize that--as well as what he can live through. It puts his priorities in some perspective.

What he is, is injured. And married. To like, a woman. And gay. And stupidly, stupidly in love with Richie Tozier, after all these years. And he'd like to use his new lease on life to act on many of these things, if only Richie would cooperate.

Okay this is by far my favorite fic. Every new chapter is just such a JOY to read. The characters are all so layered and Eddie’s POV makes me laugh out loud like 10 times a chapter. It’s so funny but so, so heartfelt. AND THE RECENT CHAPTER - AKLSHFLAKH

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the anatomy of a joke by crescenteluce

He trails off and Bev raises an eyebrow. ‘So, you being in bed together fits in there how exactly?’

‘No, Jesus, Bev.’ Eddie says and Richie, horrifyingly, feels his cheeks heat under Bev’s suspicious look. Something needs to be done, so he plucks Eddie’s phone from his hands.

‘I am appalled by your implications, Beverly.’ He says sternly, trying to ignore the blood still not quite done rushing to his face. ‘I would have you know that I’d never defile Eddie like that, the poor man’s 40 year old and still a virgin and if I’d have the honor of-’

He’s cut off by Eddie trying to wrestle the phone away from him as Bev cackles delightedly.

This fic is locked to ao3 users only but. Anon. listen. If there’s any reason to get an account, iTS THIS FIC. this fic is…. Dare i say, iconic. I reread it sometimes and i have to stop to take breaths from getting too hyped up at the section breaks. And the sequel???? Holy shit. Pls read this fic, pls.

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feet on the ground, head in the sky by peggyolson

richie and eddie put themselves back together, one long-distance phone call at a time.

God, i love a good phone fic. And this is just such, such a good writing of richie, the author really nailed him here. Just. read it. Cry. reread it again.

____

Anyway i love reddie fic so much. Give me two 40 year old best friends slowly remembering how much they love each, and throw stan in there too or else i get sad at 4am thinking about patty. thanks . i have a ton more so let me know if you want more!!!

#it #reddie #richie tozier #eddie kaspbrak #anon #fic recs #reddie fic recs

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rosemaidenvixen · 5 years ago

Text

A Secret’s Worth

Chapter 5: Barbara

Ao3

Barbara pulled her coat tighter around her and shivered. The air out here was brisk and sharp, but the roaring fire in front of her helped take the edge off. And a good mug of hot tea didn’t hurt either. Still, it wasn’t about to get any warmer. Jim had said he wouldn’t be out long tonight, just a quick walk and back in time to go to bed by eleven.

Not that the cold bothered him.

Wind rustled through the trees around her, autumnal reds and golds rustling against evergreen needles. It wasn’t really that late in the season, but it certainly wasn’t early either. Barbara and Jim usually prefered to do their trips during the more palatable times of year, then again, this wasn’t one of their usual trips.

She might be oblivious more often than she cared to admit, but Barbara wasn’t blind. She saw the posters printed on orange and black paper hanging on the community board at the hospital. Heard her coworkers talk about all the plans their kids were making together. Plans involving candy and costumes and spending the night out on the town. Plans no teenager would dare turn down without very good reason.

Like say a family vacation.

So when Jim called her during the middle of school three days ago, begging her to take the weekend off and go camping, she hadn’t been very surprised.

Saddened, but not surprised.

Pulling an impromptu camping trip off hadn’t been easy by any means. Between the lateness of the season and the incredibly short notice, Barbara had barely been able to get the reservations in place, not to mention gathering all the supplies they needed. But she had rolled up her sleeves, dug in her heels, and made magic happen.

And now here they were. Sitting in the middle of the woods, pretending that they would both rather be here than at home celebrating the holiday with friends and family.

A burning sensation built up behind her eyes. Barbara set her mug to the side, if she tried to drink anything now she’d only end up choking on her own tears.

It wasn’t fair, not to either of them, but especially to Jim. She knew being cooped because of his transformations was hard. Even more so when he had to say no to going out and having fun with his friends.

On some days the only way Barbara was able to get up in the morning was by telling herself that all of this was temporary. One day she would find a cure and Jim would be free of his transformations, then they both would be able to live their lives without this nightmare.

Things might be bad now, but only for a little while, sooner or later it would end. For years she had told herself this and for years it had worked.

At least until Jim’s last birthday. When Barbara stopped being so sure that there would even be an end.

She stuffed the dismal thoughts into the back of her mind and tried to force herself to relax in her seat. No point working herself into a downward spiral. It hadn’t worked the first dozen times she’d done it, no reason to think it would be any more productive now.

Looking around while pulling her jacket tighter around her shoulders, Barbara checked the periphery of their campsite for signs of Jim’s return. She couldn’t see much, the fire was bright but not that bright. The only things she had a clear view of were her small tent, the clear area laid down with blankets on top of a tarp for Jim, the electric lantern behind her bolstering the dim firelight, the ATV they used to get out here, their cooler and chest full of supplies, and just a fraction of the miles of forest around her.

No sign of Jim.

Barbara glanced at her watch, sighed, threw another log on the fire, grabbed a couple of magazines from the stack, and settled in to wait. Jim always told her not to wait up for him, but it wasn’t like she could sleep without knowing where her son was. Better to pass the time with a magazine. Barbara never went camping without a fat stack of them. They could help her pass the time when Jim was out on his walks and could be repurposed as kindling so they didn’t have to haul them back. She always made a point to grab some from the waiting room at work when they cycled the new issues in.

Reaching over to the stack at her feet, she glanced between the copies of People and National Geographic before tossing the People into the fire. Gossip rags had never been her thing.

Yawning, Barbara thumbed through the National Geographic . Hopefully this would keep her more entertained. One of the cover stories looked promising, ‘The Salem Witch Trials: Over three centuries later’ . Sounded better than celebrity gossip at least.

Barbara flipped to the corresponding page and started the article using the speed reading techniques she learned in medical school. It was ok, but pretty ho-hum, no more or less entertaining than watching the History channel. Should be an adequate way to pass the next twenty minutes.

Which was exactly what Barbara planned on doing until she came to a line that caused the world around her to come crashing down around her.

Whipping her head to the side Barbara coughed and sputtered up the tea that had gotten rediverted into her lungs due to her shock.

She couldn’t have read what she just did, it was impossible, delusional even.

But when she turned back toward the page with a pounding heart there it was. A deceptively innocuous line of text buried in the middle of the article.

The true witch hunt began with the arrests of Tituba, Sarah Osbourne, and Sarah Good.

Sarah Good.

The same name tied to the mystery that haunted their family for the past ten years.

For a few seconds she forgot how to breathe, just sat there staring at the words printed in cheap ink on even cheaper paper. Mouth open, sitting frozen rigid in her seat, gears whiring as her brain processed all the implications of this.

Was it just a coincidence? Sarah Good couldn’t be that rare of a name, or could there be a connection?

It was a stretch, even by the Lake family’s standards.

Her fifteen year old son turned blue and sprouted horns when the sun went down and had been doing so for the past decade. Nothing was off the table.

She flipped back and began rereading the article with much more intensity, blood rushing in her ears.

Moral panic, mass hysteria, mob mentality. According to the stuffy old professors that wrote the article there wasn’t anything even remotely magical about the Salem witch trials.

But they hadn’t seen the things Barbara had, lived the things she’d lived.

Was it somehow possible that one of these long ago women was more than she seemed? Had a touch of something that could still be causing ripples centuries later?

The paper crinkled under her fingers. If there really was a connection, and Barbara wasn’t sure that there was, then this was their biggest break in years.

As soon as she got home Barbara was going to take this new lead and hit the library, hit Wikipedia, hit anything and everything that might offer her the slightest clue. There was a chance, however faint, that history might hold some of the answers that had eluded them for a decade.

Her lips parted as she leaned in and skewered the magazine with her gaze, feeling almost feverish.

A dream, an idea, too lofty and terrifying to imagine flickered to life in the back of her mind, despite her best efforts to snuff it out before her hopes could rise too high.

Barbara knew first hand how much it hurt when hope was dashed to pieces, but she had forgotten just how intoxicating it could be.

If history had the answers, then it just might have a cu--

“Mom?”

Barbara shrieked, tea sloshed out of her mug and the magazine went flying.

Jim took a hesitant step back “Sorry, did I scare you?”

“NO! no-- I just--” Barbara glanced back towards where the magazine had landed “I was just really engrossed in the article I was reading,”

Jim cocked his head “What was it about?”

“I-- it….”

He blinked back at her, wide eyed and curious.

“...something about the revolutionary war, how was your walk?”

Barbara forced a smile and very deliberately did not look toward where the magazine had fallen. She would tell Jim, but not yet. Only once she had discovered something solid, more tangible.

She couldn’t raise his hopes when she wasn’t even sure that her own were founded.

“Fine,” Jim took a seat at the fire across from her “Moon’s full, that was pretty cool,”

Barbara nodded and leaned back in her seat, picking up her half-full mug and willing the buzz of nervous energy in her limbs to fade. She reached for the long wooden branch to poke at the fire, only to notice the tote bag at her feet. That’s right, with all the excitement of her discovery she had almost forgotten.

“Jim, I have a surprise for you,”

He perked up instantly “Really? What?”

“Here,” she lifted the tote and tossed it across the fire towards him.

Jim caught it with ease and reached an arm in, pulling out a smaller plastic bag with a look of surprise “Candy corn?”

“Yep,” Barbara gave him a gentle smile “Happy Halloween kiddo,”

Jim smiled back at her, but it didn’t reach his eyes “Thanks mom,” he tore open the bag and started popping the orange triangles into his mouth while staring into the fire, expression unreadable.

They sat like that for a few minutes, the only sounds Jim’s chewing and the crackling of the fire, before Barbara couldn’t bite her tongue any more.

Normally she would leave well enough alone, but reading what she did in that magazine had set her thoughts a-buzzing like a nest of hornets.

She didn’t want to corner Jim like this, to put him on the spot, make an already stressful trip worse. But she couldn’t just stay quiet, her own conscience wouldn’t let her.

For years Barbara had tried , tried so hard to give Jim space. Let him deal with his problems without hounding him every ten seconds.

It wasn’t until Jim broke down crying in school that she realized just how poorly that approach had worked out.

Jim had shouldered so much by himself, struggling in silence, until one day came the staw that broke the camel’s back. Leaving him a shattered wreck.

Of course who’s fault was that? A nasty voice whispered in her ear. Who should have been modeling healthy coping mechanisms for him? Who showed up after work every day dead tired and still pasted a smile on her face for years and pretended like everything was fine even when they both knew it that it damn well wasn’t.

Who was it that taught Jim to bottle up his emotions until he exploded?

More importantly, what kind of mother didn’t notice that her child was in pain?

Barbara steeled herself even though her stomach still churned with doubt. Even if it meant pushing his boundaries she wasn’t going to let Jim fall into such a bad place, not again, not if she could help it.

“How are you Jim? I mean really,”

Jim didn’t respond at first, merely finished chewing his mouthful of candy and swallowed, but he didn’t pick up any more.

“Better,” he said after a long time.

Barbara’s gut twisted with equal parts anxiety and relief. Better wasn’t anything to dismiss, but it wasn’t the same thing as good either.

The days following Jim’s fifteenth birthday, and the realization that things might not get better than they were now, had been some of the worst of both of their lives, only comparable to the days after James’s departure and the night Jim first changed.

And as bad as things had been for her, she knew Jim’s condition was far far worse.

He had sunk into a deep slump and stayed there for days. Barely speaking, barely eating; not even glancing at anything, video games, vespa magazines, cooking equipment, that had brought him joy just a few days before. Jim had been in such a dark place, and Barbara was powerless to help him find his way out.

“Better how?”

Jim twisted the plastic of the bag around his finger “Me and Toby are hanging out with Mary, Darci, and Claire; you know about them, right?”

Barbara nodded.

One day in the middle of his depression, just when she’d been starting to worry that her son would never smile again, out of the blue Jim had come home and told her that he was invited to go to the county fair with Toby and some girls from his class. Unsure what to do with this development, Barbara had sent Jim off with a kiss on the forehead and $20 to pay his way, hoping for the best.

When Jim had come home that night he was smiling brighter than he had in a long time.

Those three names had come up frequently in Jim’s gushing the night following the county fair. And for many nights after.

“Has being friends with them...helped?”

“Oh yeah, they’re really fun,” Jim said with a grin “We hang out almost every day after school and during our off period, Mary always has the best ideas about what to do and Darci is a total daredevil, plus Steve never bothers us when we’re with them,”

That got her attention “I’m sorry, what?”

Jim’s eyes widened, clearly having revealed more than he intended.

Barbara’s mouth straightened into a hard line “Who is this Steve and how does he ‘bother’ you?”

“A guy in my class, and nothing really,” his eyes darted around the clearing, landing on anything but her “Honestly it’s not a big deal,”

“Jim.” her voice was iron, and offered no room for negotiation.

He squirmed but remained silent.

Barbara fixed him with a narrowed gaze and waited.

A minute and a half was all it took.

“It’s...sometimes he…” Jim stared down at the fire, still unable to look her in the eye “He’ll...push me and trip me in the hall, little stuff like that,”

Barbara could practically feel her blood pressure rising “That is unacceptable. When we get home we’re going to talk to the school about him,”

Jim visibly cringed “You don’t need to do that mom, I can handle Steve, please just don’t make a big deal about this”

Somehow her frown got even deeper. This was a big deal. No matter the circumstances, Barbara was not going to let Jim minimize someone else’s violent behavior.

“This isn’t up for debate. You shouldn’t have to handle another student being violent with you,”

“It’s not that bad, telling will just make things worse,”

“Has he threatened to retaliate if you tell on him!?”

“No! I-- it’s just…” Jim trailed off, his words hanging in the air.

The silence as taut as a wire.

Then he sighed, sounding utterly defeated “Things at school are finally normal again, Steve might give me a hard time...but everyone else has finally stopped looking at me weird,”

Jim looked up and met her eyes “Steve’s a jerk, a huge jerk, but I can handle him, I just want…” his voice dropped into a hoarse whisper “I just want other people to at least think I’m normal,”

Her throat was tight. It rankled, more than that, it went against every instinct Barbara had to ignore a bully, and a violent one at that. It felt wrong, hell, that was probably because it was wrong. But could she really make things for Jim more turbulent after he’d finally regained some stability in his life?

His life that was only going to get more difficult from here on out.

Or maybe it wouldn’t.

Barbara shut her eyes and let out a deep breath “Ok, if you don’t think the situation with Steve needs addressing we can leave it be,”

Jim perked up.

“ However , if things start to escalate with him, even a little bit, you let me know right away, got it?”

Jim nodded “Got it,”

“Good,” Barbara leaned back and forced herself to take another sip of tea.

The uncomfortable subject was officially dropped, but things were still strained between them, waiting to snap under the slightest trigger.

“Steve may be a jerk,” Jim said softly “But I really am doing better,”

“Are you Jim? Are you really ?” she knew her tone was sharper than it should be, but right now she didn’t have the mental space to worry about that. Right now Barbara was too worried and too scared and too frazzled and too tired. So goddamn tired “Because I feel like everytime you say that it’s only to make me feel better. You never tell me when things are bad or that you’re hurting,”

“I swear I’m not downplaying things this time!”

“How do I know that? You didn’t tell me what was going on on your birthday, you didn’t tell me about being kicked out of the Mole scouts-- Christ, another student’s been harassing you at school and this is the first I’m hearing about it!”

Neither one of them said anything for a long time

“This-- this isn’t like that!��

“Well I don’t want the next time that I find out you’re struggling to be when one of your teachers calls me because you broke down crying again!”

Her mouth shut with a click. She’d gone too far, way too far. Barbara should not have said that. But now the words were out there, and she couldn’t take them back if she tried.

The stunned look on Jim’s face told her that he hadn’t been expecting her to go this far either.

“There’s social media,” Jim finally spoke up in a quiet voice “Mary practically forced me to make seven new accounts so I can follow her on everything,” he gave a weak smile “So even if they move away we can still stay in touch,”

“Jim…”

“And Darci’s dad’s a cop and Claire’s mom is a politician, so maybe not all of them will move away...”

Jim straightened and raised his head towards her. The look on his face, uncertain but so so determined, tore at her heartstrings “I really am doing better,”

Barbara got up from her seat and walked over to him, reaching out and laying a hand on his shoulder “And I’m happy for you, I’m glad that you’re doing better and I’m sorry I snapped at you like that. It was wrong of me to say what I did and I promise I won’t do that again,”

She gave his shoulder a comforting squeeze “I’m glad things are better for you now, but if they get bad again...please don’t hide it. Talk to me, share how you feel so it doesn’t build up,”

It was a testament to how tall he was getting that Barbara barely had to kneel to look Jim in the eye even while he was sitting “I know you think you’re protecting me when you hide your problems, but remember, we’re a team. And I can’t help you if I don’t know that something’s wrong,”

Even with the tusks she could see his lip start to quiver “We take care of each other,” Jim’s voice was thick with emotion “Right?”

Her own eyes brimming, Barbara pulled him into a hug “Right,”

Their embrace lasted a few more seconds, long enough for both of them to sniffle their unshed tears away, before Barbara gently pulled back, Jim releasing her willingly, and went back to her seat.

She took a few more sips of tea and he munched on his candy corn while the fire cracked and popped between them, the silence much more palatable now.

Her tea was almost gone when Jim spoke up again.

“Actually, there is something…”

“What is it?” Barbara forced herself to stay calm and not jump down his throat with a dozen questions. Jim was putting himself out there, now she had to do her part and let him speak.

Jim shifted uncomfortably in his seat “You know Claire? One of the new girls I’ve been hanging out with?”

“Yes?”

“I...like her...as...more than a friend,” even as he said those words he slumped back in his seat, like a puppet with the strings cut “But I can’t...date her or even tell her as long…” he sank even lower “As long as I’m like...this,”

A dagger to the back couldn’t have hurt her any deeper. Jim’s transformations had taken so much from him already and now he couldn’t even...

Barbara was keenly aware of the magazine on the ground behind her, blazing like a hot coal from just beyond her vision.

In that moment she vowed that she would chase down whatever possible leads this new discovery offered her. Run to the ends of the earth, leave no stone unturned. Do whatever it takes to find a cure. Barbara would find a way for her son to live a normal life, with all that entailed.

No matter how many decades it took.

“Thank you for telling me,”

Jim managed to crack a smile before going back to his candy corn.

Finally able to relax, they settled in to just enjoy the rest of the night and each other’s company, accompanied by the soft glow and crackles from the dying fire. The hour slips away, Barbara finishes her tea and Jim polishes off his candy corn and eats the bag to.

Eventually Barbara stood up from her chair “I’m going to bed, be sure to take care of the fire before you go to sleep,”

Jim yawned and stretched “I think I’m gonna turn in to,”

Barbara raised an eyebrow “Aren’t you still hungry?”

“Nah,” Jim appeared to only be half listening while he spread the coals around with the stick.

She frowned, glancing at the crumbs of orange sugar on the ground. Even by his night-food standards that wasn’t a very nutritious meal “You should have more to eat than just candy,”

“It’s ok, I ate earlier,”

She looked over at their cooler full of food stores, all of it untouched “What did you eat?”

Jim fidgeted and looked away while pouring their used dishwater over the glowing ashes “I...uh...a fox,”

“A fox?”

“Yeah...I saw it on my walk...it was dead when I found it...so I figured why not,”

Her blood ran cold “Do you have any idea how it might have died?”

“Old age?”

Barbara slowly walked over and grabbed the electric lantern, now that the fire was out they needed the extra light to see each other “How long ago did you eat it?”

“About two hours ago?” Jim’s voice was small, some of her anxiety starting to leech into him.

Two hours. Which meant it was probably too late to make him vomit it out.

“Mom, what’s wrong?”

Barbara took a deep breath and willed herself to stay calm. The were in the middle of the woods miles away from any kind of civilization; panicking wouldn’t do either of them a damn bit of good right now “That fox might have died from a disease, like tularemia or bru--”

“Or rabies…” Jim finished, blue face growing pale in the lantern light.

Barbara grimaced, her thoughts exactly, she’d wanted to avoid scaring him by saying so out loud but it looked like he’d put it together himself “It’s ok, it’s only two hours back to the rental place and one to the nearest town big enough to have what we need. We can just say a fox bit you, that should get you all the shots you need. If we get up at six we can get there before ten,,”

Barbara walked over to Jim and squeezed both of his shoulders “Don’t worry,I’ve seen rabies exposure cases before, people have received their initial rabies shots almost 24 hours after they’ve been bitten and made complete recoveries. Ten am tomorrow is plenty early enough,”

Even if she was battling her own fears Jim needed to hear those words from her right now.

She managed to smile and pat him on the cheek “You’re going to be fine,”

His expression wavered before solidifying into enforced composure, he nodded back at her.

With that they separated and set about preparing to retire for the night, despite the fresh undercurrent of panic.

Soon pajamas were on, teeth were brushed, and the lantern was out; the only light coming from the small flashlight she held. And once Jim was bundled up on his tarp and Barbara was cocooned in her tent that was extinguished too. She shut her eyes and settled into the sleeping bag, determined to get a full night’s rest.

Barbara was just starting to nod off when she heard Jim whisper from outside.

“Are you still awake mom?”

“Yeah,” she replied with a yawn “What is it hon?”

“We’re going to tell the clinic that an animal bit me and that’s why I need the shots, right?”

“Uh huh,”

“Then...won’t it look weird if I don’t have any bite wounds on me?”

Her eyes shot open.

#Tales of Arcadia #Trollhunters #fanfic #a secret's worth #Barbara Lake #Jim lake jr #rmvwrites

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damienthepious · 5 years ago

Text

😘🦎💕

A Little Remedy

[ao3]

[companion piece to Toss and Turn In Undertow, and Keep Your Head Above The Blue]

[Fandom: The Penumbra Podcast

Relationship: Lord Arum/Sir Damien/Rilla

Characters: Rilla, Lord Arum, Sir Damien

Additional Tags: Second Citadel, Established Relationship, Hurt/Comfort, Nightmares, Sleep Deprivation, brief blood mention, Arguing, Cuddling & Snuggling, Lizard Kissin’ Tuesday

Summary: Rilla can be a little cruel when she hasn’t gotten enough sleep, and recently she’s been finding herself exhausted much more often than usual.

Notes: Rilla is not exactly the MOST patient person, y'know? And I feel like Treacherous Heart specifically showed that keeping her from sleep is the best way to bring out her cruel side… anyway this happened and I’m tired and Hey! I finished the H/C trio. FINALLY. Title taken from the song To Noise Making (Sing), by Hozier. ]

Rilla needs to finish this experiment. She needs to. She’s so close to cracking the potency on a new form of pain salve she’s been trying to finalize for weeks now, trying to make it so the product is stable. Every previous attempt has lost efficacy increasingly from the moment it’s mixed together, a quickly lost battle with time that just leaves an inert gray goop by the end of the hour. If she can just figure out the right additive, if she can just get it to maintain potency for even a little longer, this could really make a difference in treating pain in long-term injuries and arthritic diseases.

She’s been digging through old herbalist tomes for hours now, trying to find a substance that will theoretically stabilize the mixture without interfering with the pain reduction, and it takes longer than it should for her to realize that she’s been reading and rereading the same entry over and over again without actually absorbing the information. She sighs, scrubs a hand down her face roughly and blinks a few times to try to clear the dryness of her eyes.

“C’mon, Rilla, just a little more,” she mutters to herself. “The sooner you find it…”

The letters on the page wobble and shift, and Rilla roughly knuckles her eye to try to make them stay still.

A little voice in the back of her head (one that sounds suspiciously like Damien) murmurs that her eyes are only going to grow more tired the longer she tries to work, that she’ll make better progress if her mind is rested, settled, but she scowls and hunches further over the book and forces herself to power through the last dozen or so pages.

“Research log, entry four four eight five,” she mutters into her recorder, glaring down at the offending paper. “Turns out the botanical survey from up near the Terminus was completely useless for the purposes of this project, so not only did I not find a binding agent, but I wasted hours going through the damn thing to try to find one. Not exactly back to square one, and it should at least rule out other surveys and guides from the area, but this is important and I can’t afford to be wasting time.” She sighs, closing her eyes for a moment. “Side note that there is a subspecies of aloe from this region that might have other utility, specifically in advanced burn treatment, since it appears to have been enhanced magically in some way, but this is neither here nor there for the purposes of my current project. Research log concluded.”

She rubs her eyes again, shoving the book to the side and leaning her head back for a long moment, and sighs as she drags her hands down her face.

- thousand pointed claws - a mouth, no, maw, no, endless void - enormity beyond comprehension - clicking/biting/scratching - Damien, crushed, screaming - Arum, running and hunted and caught - Damien, and so much blood - fear fear fear - formless black torn at the edges, bleeding out - home, the Citadel, burning - home, her hut, burning - home, the Keep, burning -

Rilla wakes with a start, realizes belatedly that her head is slumped backward to rest on the back of the chair, her neck strained from the angle. She has to center herself, remember where she is. Safe, safe at home in her hut. Damien is asleep in the bedroom. She is safe. She is home. She is safe.

She exhales a shaking breath, shakes her head, and scowls at herself. “C’mon, Rilla,” she says again, and then she fights through a vicious sort of yawn, the kind that almost hurts her jaw and sets her eyes watering. “C’mon. Work to be doing, now. You can- you can try to rest when it’s done with.”

“And when, precisely, will that be, Amaryllis?”

Rilla jumps again, somewhat more violently this time, her chair scooting back a screaming inch across her wood floors, and when she whips her head to the side she sees the offending party standing beside the vague glow of the Keep’s portal. She hadn’t even noticed that when she’d come awake again. “Fuck, Arum, you scared me- how long have you been there?”

“Long enough to know that you are overworking yourself.” He stares at her, tilting his head to the side critically as the portal sinks and fades. “Yet again.”

“I’m fine, Arum. I’m almost done. As soon as I find this binding agent, then I can-”

“And will you find it before sunrise, do you think?”

She glares. “I’m close, Arum, I’ll find it and then I’ll-”

“And then you will find another angle upon which to focus.” He slinks a little closer and lets his eyes drift from her, scanning over her research. “Then you will decide you must turn immediately to the next step of your puzzle, and you will delay sleep for another night.”

“I… am… fine… Arum,” she bites out through her teeth.

“It is already near morning, Amaryllis,” he says, and thanks to the grayish light slipping around the edge of her curtains, she realizes that he is correct. Not that she’s going to admit that. “You did not sleep last night either, takatakataka.”

“I slept a litt-”

“A little,” he interrupts, and then he shrugs dismissively. “A ‘little’ sleep is a nap, Amaryllis, and that is insufficient for how long you have been awake. You know as well as I do, how detrimental a lack of sleep can be.”

“What, are you trying to nanny me now?” She scowls, crossing her arms over her chest. She notes with a strange sort of amusement that her anger actually seems to be waking her up more effectively than anything else so far. “As if you’re some great example of taking care of yourself.”

Arum, surprisingly, doesn’t rise to the bait. He stares at her for a long moment, and his eyes slowly narrow. “I hope that you do not attempt to antagonize the poet in such a way when he confronts you. I cannot imagine that cruel words would glance from him without doing at least some damage.”

“Don’t- don’t bring Damien into this,” Rilla says with a scoff. “We weren’t talking about him.”

“We were not talking about my habits either, Amaryllis, until you brought them up.”

He’s right, again, and Rilla is furious about it. She narrows her eyes, standing from her chair and staring the lizard down. “Fine,” she says, voice icy. “Is this conversation over, then? Maybe if you actually let me do my work then I’ll be able to get to bed sometime tonight.”

He lets her words sit for another few moments, and her anger simmers as he stares. “I very much doubt you will sleep if I leave you now, Amaryllis,” he says.

“I can’t just abandon my experiments because I’m a little-”

“I very much doubt, also, that this is entirely to do with your work,” he interrupts. “This is because of the nightmares. Is it not?”

Rilla’s spine stiffens, and she takes the two short steps required to poke Arum in the chest, glaring up into his violet eyes. “That has nothing to do with this,” she bites out, one word at a time. “They’re just dreams, Arum, and I’m not a child.”

“I did not imply that you were, Amaryllis.” Arum stares down at her, neither stepping back nor appearing to grow irritated. “But they are not just dreams. It took some time for me to see the signs, but… I am perfectly capable of recognizing my own handiwork.”

“What…” That assertion is actually confusing enough that Rilla’s anger is somewhat defanged. “What are you talking about?”

“These dreams, Amaryllis. Did they, perhaps, only begin to manifest after the battle at Fort Terminus?” He pauses, watching her reactions carefully. “After your encounter with the… fear monster?”

That clicks into Rilla’s head like two gears finally catching together, and Rilla realizes that Arum is correct about this as well. The connection hasn’t occurred to her before, she hasn’t noticed that the timeline matches up so damn well. Mostly, she hasn’t noticed because the dreams started small, unobtrusive, easy to brush aside and dismiss, and have only become a problem by degrees. “What exactly are you trying to imply, Arum?”

“Not an implication,” he says. “An observation. The Keep confirmed for me that you slept much more soundly - when you deigned to sleep - during your initial stay within it.”

“You’re having the Keep- keep tabs on me?” Rilla says in a low, unpleasant voice.

“Don’t be ridiculous,” Arum says. “You insist on calling it my mother, Amaryllis, and I know that a part of your insistence on that front is because you are aware of how it frets over me. That attention and care extends to both yourself and Damien now, obviously. It has been worried for you.”

Rilla blinks in shock, then quickly tries to brush aside the pleased surprise she feels at the idea of the Keep caring about her, because- “Hang on. Don’t- don’t try to distract me. You’re saying that the nightmares are from the damned fear bug? It’s long dead, Arum, how does that even make sense?”

“If I remember Damien’s telling of the story correctly, you bore the brunt of the creature’s ire at least once, did you not?”

“They’re just nightmares, Arum,” she says, and it isn’t enough of a denial to keep him from smiling grimly.

“Then why are they growing worse, Amaryllis?”

“I don’t know, Arum,” she says, and she realizes just barely too late that she’s halfway to yelling, and she can’t actually tell how loud she’s being as she continues. “But apparently you have an idea you’re just desperate to share, huh? Fine. You think this is the fear monster? Go ahead and explain how the fuck a dead bug is keeping me from sleeping. I’m sure you’ve got everything figured out.”

Arum’s smile fades, and he sighs. “It was in your head, Amaryllis,” he says gently, and she snorts out an angry laugh.

“It was in all of our heads, Arum.”

“It was in your head,” he repeats, voice flat. “The creature was made to act subtly at first, and incrementally increase the fear response it created. What it did to you and your knights… that was not how it was intended to attack. That was brute force from a lockpick, Amaryllis, and from what I have observed in you lately, I believe it left wounds in your mind that have been festering rather than healing.”

“I would know if I was injured, Arum.” Rilla’s heart is hammering with her anger. She feels nearly lightheaded from it. “I am a doctor. I would know.”

“Rilla?” Damien is in the doorway of the bedroom now, sleep muddled and wearing a vague frown. “What… my darling flowers, whatever is the matter?”

“Great,” Rilla says without inflection, turning away from the door. “Fantastic.”

Arum’s expression softens, and he crosses the room to run his claws carefully through Damien’s pillow-mussed hair. “Nothing to concern yourself over, honeysuckle,” he says. “You should return to bed.”

“But-” Damien leans into Arum’s hand, overcome momentarily by a yawn. “But- there was shouting. What-”

“It’s nothing, Damien,” Rilla says, leaning over her worktable and glaring at the useless remains of the latest trial of her salve. “Go back to bed. Arum was just about to leave, and then it should actually be quiet enough for you to sleep. And for me to finish my work.”

Arum’s mouth presses into an even thinner line, and he gives Rilla an unimpressed look as Damien frowns in earnest. “Are- are the two of you- arguing?”

“Damien-” Rilla cuts herself off, just barely below a volume that could be called yelling, and presses her hands flat to the table. “Please go back to bed.”

With Arum’s arm slowly curling around his shoulder, Damien stares at her, his expression blooming from confusion into worry. “But… it’s nearly dawn already, my love,” he says.

Rilla’s eyes flick to the windows again, to the light growing brighter around the edges of the curtains, and she huffs out a furious breath as she pulls one of her books across the table towards her, trying to engross herself (pretending to engross herself) back into the research. “Okay. Okay. Fine. Then you should go do your exercises,” she says dismissively. “Either way I need to get back to work.”

“Did you not come to bed at all tonight, my flower?” Damien asks softly behind her, and Rilla clenches her jaw to keep from snapping in response. “I was… I was quite sorry to wake without you beside me.”

Five or six possible responses flit through her mind, all of them unreasonably cruel after the softness Damien is offering. She grits her teeth against them all, because Rilla is exhausted and frustrated and unfocused, but she’s spent far too much time in the effort to convince Damien’s anxious mind of how much she loves him, and she’s not going to jeopardize that with careless verbal sniping just because she’s not operating at full capacity tonight. Or- this morning, rather. Ignoring him isn’t exactly kind either, but she can’t think of any way to respond that isn’t unnecessarily cutting.

“Her nightmares are interrupting her slumber again,” Arum says, and his voice is casual though his eyes fix to hers in a determined way when she whips her head back to glare at the lizard. “She is attempting to outrun them by avoiding sleep entirely until she injures herself.”

“Don’t be an ass,” Rilla says with a scowl. “That’s not what I’m doing. I already told you, I can’t just put my work aside because I’m a little bit tired. This has nothing to do with dreams I might be having.”

Rilla… does not lie often. This particular one feels sour on her tongue, but if she can just get them to leave her alone then she can finish her work and figure out a solution for sleep on her own. She can handle this; there’s no reason for them to get all worked up about it.

“When… when did you last sleep, my love?” Damien asks, gripping Arum’s hand in a nervous sort of way.

“Yesterday,” Rilla says dismissively, turning back to her book. “I’ll be fine, Damien.”

“She slept for twenty minutes and woke herself by thrashing out of a nightmare,” Arum says. “The night before that, she managed perhaps an hour and a half before she gasped awake and slipped from bed, thinking I would not notice.”

“Rilla-”

“I can manage my own sleep just fine without interfering lizards keeping a running tally of my daily schedule, thanks very much,” Rilla hisses, gamely not looking at the pair of them and arbitrarily flipping pages without reading a single word upon them. “Really goddamn rich, honestly, the pair of you trying to micro-manage my- honestly. Honestly.”

“You do seem… rather exhausted, Rilla,” Damien says, his tone still confused and gentle. “Can you not just… come rest, just for a while, and find the solutions you seek with a refreshed mind?”

“I would rather find my solutions now, thanks.”

“Your book is upside-down, Amaryllis,” Arum says blandly.

Rilla growls under her breath and slams the book closed, spinning to face them again. Arum still has an arm encircling Damien’s shoulder, and another of his hands is clasped with Damien’s, and the both of them are staring at her. Damien flinches when she turns, his expression verging on distraught, and Arum is still holding his steady, observant gaze upon her.

“Okay,” she snarls, “I think that’s enough. I don’t need the nervous nag and the self-care hypocrite creeping over my shoulder and making it even harder for me to make any progress. I would go to bed a hell of a lot faster if the both of you would just leave me alone instead of arguing about my sleep habits.”

Arum’s expression finally hardens, and she sees his fingers squeeze Damien’s shoulder. “Enough… enough is right, Amaryllis. You need to sleep. You are not yourself, and we cannot discuss these nightmares until you are thinking more clearly.”

“I really don’t think you’re in a position to be ordering me around about the way I’m handling this, Arum, considering these damn nightmares are apparently your fault in the first place, you monster-”

“Rilla.” Damien clutches Arum’s arm, looking at her aghast. “You don’t truly-”

“No,” she says, the instant, instant regret making her shoulders sag, making the dull buzzing in her head all the more intense. She hugs her arms around her chest, exhaling an unsteady breath. “I know. I know. That wasn’t fair. I didn’t mean- I don’t actually-”

Even worse: the way Arum is looking at her. The way he seems unbothered, unsurprised by having the blame laid upon him. The way he doesn’t even flinch.

“I didn’t mean that, Arum.”

“I am well aware, Amaryllis,” Arum says evenly, his eyes never leaving her.

“I just- you’re both-”

“Trying very hard to help you, despite how stubbornly you are insisting on this attempt to drive us away so you may continue to suffer alone.” Arum sighs, then lifts a hand towards her, and she only barely catches the edge of desperation in his expression. “Please. Come away from your work. Just for a moment. I believe I can speak for Damien as well when I say that I have no desire to fight with you.”

Damien nods, and his hand raises on the other side, his expression open and distraught.

Rilla knows that if she lets the both of them hold her, she’ll be done for. She won’t be able to make herself go back to her work after that. Hell, she’s not sure she’ll be able to keep her damned eyes open if she lets them wrap her up in their arms.

She edges a step towards them, then glances at the disaster of research strewn across her table, still stubbornly refusing to present her with a solution.

“Please,” Arum says again, and Rilla breaks.

She stumbles the last couple feet towards them, and they fold her into their embrace as easily as… as easily as a metaphor she’s sure Damien would be able to produce in an instant, even if he were as tired as she is right now. She realizes how tightly she’s been holding herself as she leans into them, as her muscles relax one by one under their hands.

“My lovely flower,” Damien whispers, pressing a kiss to her cheek. “Oh, why did you not say anything? I know how strong you are, but you need not bear such pain alone merely because-”

“I’m not- it’s not like I’m doing this because I want to,” she says, because she wants them to understand. She’s never been a good liar, and the only reason it’s taken this long for this to come out is because she’s been doing her best to avoid thinking about it at all when she’s around them. “It’s just that- it’s easier to sleep through them if I’m exhausted first.”

Damien makes a soft, sympathetic noise, clinging tightly to her. “Sleep through them? So you still have them, you just-”

“Look, I don’t even know how much of it I remember, you know? But- if I wear myself out really well, I can at least sleep all the way through the night. Or- well, you know. I can at least get five uninterrupted hours. Six if I’m lucky.”

“So it has been that frequent, Amaryllis? That intrusive?” Arum’s tone is carefully controlled, but she can feel how he stiffens, thanks to the way he’s wrapped around her.

“It… yeah. Sometimes. It’s been getting… worse, but it comes and goes, I guess. Lately… I don’t know.” She sighs, not exactly pleased to admit this. “Yeah. It’s been bad. I didn’t want to worry either of you,” she continues quickly. “I know you’ve both got your own- I just didn’t want to add to the pile, you know? I can handle this. I can handle my own- whatever.”

Arum tightens his grip on her for a heartbeat, nuzzling his snout into her hair before he pulls back enough to meet her eyes. “You once told me, Amaryllis, that telling the both of you when I was in distress was the only way to ensure that I would be helped.”

Rilla flushes, a little taken aback that Arum remembers her words so specifically. “But- but it’s not like either of you can do anything about this. It’s just dreams, Arum, it’s not like either of you can-”

“I believe I can help you, Amaryllis.” Arum gives her a wry smile as she jolts in his arms, looking up at him incredulously. “The nightmares stem from the fear monster. The monster that I helped create, as you so helpfully pointed out not terribly long ago.”

“Arum, I-”

“I take no offense,” he says, tone soft. “I am well aware of the ills I caused. If you had informed me of the severity of the problem sooner, I could have eased the effects before it progressed this far.”

“You…” Rilla stares up at him, the buzzing in her head and the softness of the embrace making it hard for her thoughts to coalesce into anything that makes sense. “You could?”

“The fear monster was primarily tested upon myself,” he explains, “as I do not typically keep sentient test subjects on hand. I always found that too distasteful a business, and more of a hassle than it was worth.” He glances aside, visibly uncomfortable. “So, obviously it would not do, if I did not have a way to mitigate the damage done to myself in the testing process.”

“Damage…” Damien tightens his grip around Rilla, and she assumes he’s hugging Arum tighter as well. “Not… not permanent damage…?”

“No, honeysuckle.” Arum sighs and smiles in the same moment, and draws a hand through Damien’s hair to soothe his distress. “Not permanent. The condition has been exacerbating itself in our herbalist because of her sleep deprivation and because it is going untreated, but it is reversible.” He wriggles himself back an inch or two away from the pair of them, just enough that he can reach into the folds of his clothes and pull out a small vial of wine-red liquid.

Rilla raises an eyebrow at him, her irritation bleeding back for a moment. “You just had that on you?”

“I have been growing more suspicious that my handiwork was the cause of your lack of sleep for some time now, Amaryllis. I became sure of it within the last two days, and when I came here tonight I had only just finished…” he tips the vial back and forth for a moment. “I was hoping to find you sleeping, and when you woke I intended to broach the subject with you.” He stares down at her, something vulnerable just barely slipping past the careful blankness of his reptilian face. “It would go down easier with a meal, but… you may take the treatment now, if you like.”

Ordinarily, Rilla would probably insist on knowing exactly what was in that vial, on knowing how he made it. Hell, she’d probably insist on making the treatment from scratch herself, just to be sure that she understood exactly what it was and how it worked. Now, though, her head is already foggily swimming, and the idea of trying to muddle through some sort of serum synthesis in this state makes her feel even more exhausted, if that’s at all possible.

She sticks a hand out, and Arum drops the treatment into her palm. She pulls out the cork and downs it in a single swig, and the alcohol burn almost overpowers the vague taste of limeflower that lingers under her tongue. She hisses out a breath, wrinkling her nose against the aftertaste as she hands the vial back.

“Single application, or will this require multiple treatments?” she asks reflexively, watching as he tucks the vial away again.

“If you sleep properly, your mind should begin to heal itself. If the dreams become difficult again I can provide another dose.”

“Hm.” Rilla squints up at him. “You’re gonna show me how you made that.”

“If you would like,” he agrees, unbothered, “but not right now. Now, you should let us bring you to bed, I think,” Arum says, his tone balanced quite carefully between soft and stubborn, and Rilla finds that she has no defenses left.

She sighs, dropping her head until she can rest her cheek against Arum’s shoulder. “Clearly I’m not going to get anything else done tonight,” she admits under her breath, and as Arum adjusts his grip to swing her up into his arms her surprised gasp devolves into a barking laugh. “You are so ridiculous,” she says, voice still threatening to bubble over with laughter. “Can’t keep your claws off us for a moment, can you?”

He raises an eyebrow, looking down over his snout at her with false haughtiness. “Why should I deny myself?”

“Ah, for once I am not the one manhandled - rather, monsterhandled,” Damien mock-whispers, but the levity leaves his face rather quickly, and then he leans closer to press his forehead against her own. “I… I am sorry, my flower. I should have seen that you were in pain so much sooner-”

“To be fair, Damien,” she says with a self-deprecating smile, her eyes already trying to slip closed, “I was trying pretty hard to keep you from noticing. Sorry.”

“My brave, brilliant herbalist,” he murmurs, and then he kisses her gently. “Brave and brilliant… and perhaps, occasionally, just the littlest bit headstrong.”

Rilla laughs and swats at the knight halfheartedly, and Arum chuckles lightly above her. He leans down and indulgently lets Damien press a kiss to his cheek as well, and then Arum turns and carries Rilla into the bedroom, Damien following in their wake.

Arum moves the sheets aside with one set of arms and then sets her down, nestled among the pillows. He slips onto the bed himself, then, wrapping his long body entirely around her before he pulls the blankets up over the both of them, a muted, subtle purr already starting in his chest.

“Ah, such a tempting tableau,” Damien sighs, leaning down to stroke his hand through Rilla’s hair. “I have only recently risen from these very sheets and yet I could be counted content to curl by your sides for hours longer. For the whole rest of the day, even-”

“You’ll be furious with yourself if you neglect your duties,” Arum reminds him wryly. “There isn’t any cause to worry now, honeysuckle. She will sleep soundly. She’s practically unconscious already.”

“Practically,” Rilla mutters, poking Arum in the side with her eyes still closed. “He’s right, though, Damien. Go start your day. According to the expert here, I should sleep just fine, and you can berate me for being headstrong over dinner tonight. Okay?”

Damien pauses, then sighs. Rilla, somewhere in her sleep-muddled brain, suspects that her lovers have just made significant eye contact over her head, but she can’t really bring herself to care. “Alright, my love,” Damien says eventually, and then he leans down to kiss Arum, and then to press a soft kiss against her temple. “I love you,” he says, his lips still brushing her skin. “Rest well, my most lovely flowers. May Saint Damien still the troubled waters of your mind until I return to you.”

“Love you too,” Rilla says, and she smiles as Arum echoes their words, though she can’t quite muster the effort to open her eyes to watch Damien leave. She hears his footsteps hesitate in the doorway - she imagines him turning to give the pair of them another lingering, dramatic look - and then he’s gone, leaving Rilla safe and warm with her heart feeling full and heavy in her chest, too tired now to do anything but sigh, settling even deeper into Arum’s embrace.

Arum nuzzles against the back of her neck, humming tunelessly.

“Sorry,” Rilla breathes. “I know… I know that I…”

“I already told you, Amaryllis. I took no offense.”

“Why?” she asks, curious more than distressed. “You have every right to be furious with me-”

“Amaryllis…” he shifts, drawing her closer, shielding her from the world with his body. “Have I not snapped at you and Damien often enough in vain bids to hide my own vulnerabilities?” He laughs softly behind her. “I could not possibly hold it against you, if you are guilty of the same strategies under duress.”

“But…”

“Amaryllis, your words are in no way the worst consequence that sleep deprivation in a creature I care about has had upon me.”

Rilla snorts out a laugh despite herself, mostly because he’s completely correct. And- she could keep questioning Arum, could try again to apologize in a way that feels right, but… it’s getting harder and harder to resist the pull of sleep. Harder and harder to resist the soothing pressure of his arms around her, the calming background noise of his purring.

She falls unconscious somewhere between when she decides she should thank him and when the words actually reach her lips, and Arum only smiles at her wordless sleeping murmur.

Sometime close to sunset, Rilla will wake with a yelp and the sudden realization that she can just store the two components of her salve separately, and only combine them immediately before use, negating the need for a binding agent at all, and she will feel more than a little bit foolish. About that, and about everything else.

For now, though, Rilla sleeps. She sleeps, and her monster curls careful and protective around her, drawing his fingers through her hair when even a hint of worry crosses her sleeping face, her head pillowed on his gently rumbling chest.

For the first time in weeks, under the vigilant watch of a monster, with the blessing of a saint left with the kiss upon her brow, not a single nightmare dares to trouble her sleep.

#elle's fanfic #the penumbra podcast #second citadel #rad bouquet #lizard kissin' tuesday #amaryllis of exile #lord arum #sir damien #a;dlkfja;ldkjfadf #i am Concerned. if people will actually enjoy this one #byeeeeeeee #things will be better

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wakandaforeverwrites · 6 years ago

Text

Learn Ya || Chapter 2

Tag List: @deliciousstreetkidcroissant @rose-bliss @theunsweetenedtruth @cancerianprincess @wakanda-inspired @aykanna @supersizemeplz@ayellepea @Ijstraightnochaser @chaneajoyyy @vanitykocaine @blowmymbackout @slimmiyagi @kissmyafropuff @beautifulqueenflaws

Chapter 1

Warnings: None other than this another long chapter

Amaya spent most of her night tossing and turning with little sleep to follow all because of one person: T’Challa. Getting him off her mind proved harder than she had anticipated, taking away her night of restful sleep. So it was no surprise that she was on her third cup of coffee by the time that lunch rolled around. She had bags under her eyes that even her thick, full coverage concealer couldn’t mask. The coffee wasn’t doing anything but give her the jitters while making her stomach hurt. She was irritable and there was no sign of her temperament improving. She was just glad that Charlie wasn’t there to talk her ear off like she had been yesterday when she came back from the break room.

For the rest of her shift, Charlie bombarded her with questions, making Amaya go through every detail of her encounter with T’Challa. She wouldn’t let her leave out even the smallest moment. Charlie was damn near squealing when she went over the way he kissed her hand. She was so excited, probably more excited than Amaya herself. She swore up and down that he had been flirting with her heavily but Amaya wasn’t convinced. In her mind he was probably just being nice. He was too far out of her league.

She really needed to stop thinking about him. She had only talked to him once and yet he was on her mind far too much. It was ridiculous. She needed to get a grip. She was acting like some little kid who was getting all starry eyed over her first crush. She was a grown ass woman who wasn’t going to keep acting like this over some man. Albeit the sexiest man she had probably encountered in her life.

She tried to push back the thoughts of the way he licked his lips and the things it did to her when he did, but it wasn’t easy. She shifted in her seat, the urge to bang her head against the desk was strong. Instead, she decided to use food to distract herself. The plastic to the bag of Hot Cheetos rattled loudly as she opened it, but no one even batted an eyelash in her direction. There was no rule against eating at the desk so she always took full advantage of it.

She leaned back in her chair and flipped through the book in her lap. Her school had sent out an email to all the incoming first year law students with a list of recommended reading to do over the summer. It wasn’t mandatory but it was heavily implied that students who did the reading were more likely to make it through the first year and less likely to drop out. Basically it was either devote the summer to doing the boring reading and be a little less stressed out during the school year or have a lit summer but have a nervous breakdown by midterms. Amaya decided on the former.

But as she had to go back and reread the same paragraph for the fifth time because she had no idea what the hell she had just read, she started to question just how invested she really was in being a lawyer. Here she was, in the prime of her young adult life and should be out there going to parties and living her best life, but law school was sucking up the majority of her free time and class hadn’t even started yet. She could only imagine where she would be five or so years from now. She’d probably have a few cats by then because she’d be too busy to have any relationship outside of the ones with family.

Someone cleared their throat, breaking her train of thought but not enough to have her look up to see who it was. “Welcome to The Wakandan International Outreach Centre. Directories and maps are located by the front entrance if you are lost.” Her voice came out clipped, mostly because they had interrupted the bite she was getting ready to take and she had to flick the Cheeto back into the bag so she didn’t appear to be completely rude. They cleared their throat again, a little louder this time. She slammed her book closed with far more force than was needed, huffing and biting back the urge to cuss out whoever it was. “How can I help you?”

She all but threw her book down on the desk and looked up. Her anger disappeared and her eyes went wide when she found T’Challa standing there with his brows raised.

“T’Challa...I mean Sir… I mean what are you doing here?” She sat up a little straighter in her chair, finding a napkin to wipe the red dust from her fingers.

“Are you usually this,” he hesitated for a second, rolling his lips together, “Blunt with guests?”

“No, not usually. I just didn’t get much sleep last night.” She rubbed her hands against the rough material of her jeans.

“Perhaps your mood would improve if you were to eat food with actual nutritional value.” He tilted his head over the desk a little with his eyes on the half eaten bag of hot chips. “Those things will kill you.”

She rolled her eyes as she rolled the bag up and tucked it back into her bag. “Yes, Daddy. I’ll be sure to keep that in mind.” The words came out before she even knew what she was saying. Her only saving grace was that she mumbled them more to herself and she could only hope that the way he raised his brow was more about her muttering under her breath than her actual words. “So, what exactly are you doing here? You don’t usually have two visits in a row. Not that I know your schedule or anything.”

“I decided that a second look at things was needed.” It wasn’t so much what he said. It was more the way that he said it. There was a heavy implication in his words that was hard for her ignore.

“And are you finding everything to your liking so far?” He leaned against the desk and she watched the way his arms flexed beneath the sleeves of his suit jacket. She knew she was finding everything to her liking.

“For the most part, yes.” He nodded his head once.

“Is there something I can do to make your visit more pleasurable?” She pressed her lips together before she said anything. Her hormones were getting the better of her.

“Pleasurable?” A slow smile spread across his lips and she stared at them for a few seconds too long to be considered polite.

“That came out wrong. What I meant to ask was there anything I could do to make your visit more productive.” Despite wanting to sink into the floor because she had once again embarrassed herself and gotten flustered around him, she didn’t look away.

“Has your mood improved so much that now you would like to be helpful?” She was taken aback a little at how blunt he was being but the subtle twitch as the corner of his delicious looking mouth gave her reason to think he was joking.

“Maybe I just needed the right company to put me in a better mood, Sir.” She licked her lips slowly as she shucked off her jacket. The otherwise usually cool building suddenly felt all too warm.

“I see.” His gaze travelled down to the faint amount of cleavage that was now exposed, but it was so quick that she thought that she might have imagined it. “Do you enjoy my company enough to go to lunch with me?”

His question caught her completely off guard and she was stuck, unsure of what to say. Here she had been thinking he was just being nice to her. Maybe Charlie was right and he had been flirting with her.

“Before I answer that, I have a question I need to ask you.”

“You may ask.” She blinked a few times. Him giving her permission was, for some odd reason, sexy to her. Even if she wasn’t exactly asking.

“Have you been flirting with me?”

“Yes.” His answer was short and sweet and came with no hesitation at all. “And you have reciprocated this. Am I wrong in that assumption.”

“No, Sir. You’re not wrong. I don’t really know too many people that wouldn’t flirt with you.”

“Good. Now that we have gotten that out of the way, lunch?” She had almost gotten about that. She started to grab her things before standing from her chair. “Your jacket?”

“Actually I’m kinda hot.” Standing next to him, she felt a little underdressed. Her basic jeans and yellow crop top didn’t exactly go with his suit. “Do you always wear a suit?”

“There’s a certain image I must maintain being a king and all.” He smiled at her.

“You know, most people don’t exactly wear suits around here. Unless they’re going to court.” Even as they walked, Amaya found it hard to keep her eyes off of him.

He stopped dead in his tracks and she had to double back when she realized she was a few steps ahead of him. He undid the two buttons of his jacket and shrugged it off with more grace than she had seen from a man. With the jacket tucked over his arm, he spoke. “Is that better?”

She vaguely heard him speaking but she couldn’t focus on anything other than the snug fit of his shirt across his board chest. It looked like it was made specifically with him in mind, hugging his body and showing off his well defined arms. She mumbled a ‘fuck’ to herself as she continued to stare. She was damn near in a daze that only his hand waving in front of her face could bring her out of.

“I’m sorry. I didn’t hear you.” She tore her eyes away from his chest so she could look him in the eye.

“I asked if that was better, but now I’m asking if you’re alright?” His brows sat lower on his face as he furrowed them.

“Yeah, I’m..whew I’m good.” She made the ‘okay’ gesture with her fingers, hoping that her words sounded believable even as she tripped all over them in her attempt to get them out.

He narrowed his eyes and searched her face. She had to do all that she could to keep herself from squirming under his watch. “If you say so.” He didn’t sound all that convinced but he said nothing else as he began to walk again.

They were just about to walk out the door when Amaya remembered that there was no one to cover her at the front desk. “Shit!”

“Are these kinds of outbursts normal for you, Amaya?”

“There’s no one to watch the desk.” She turned to walk back but stopped when she saw one of the guys who was usually tutoring kids sitting in one of the chairs behind the desk.

His hand grazed along her arm for a second. Just long enough to turn her attention back to him. “As you can see, it’s been handled.”

He gestured for her to walk through the door as he held it open for her. She wanted to ask if he had been the one that made sure things were handled but she held her tongue. She wasn’t sure that she wanted to know the answer to that question.

“Have you ever tried the diner down the street? They have really good cheeseburgers if you’re into that sort of thing.” Just thinking about them had her stomach growling.

“If that’s where you would like to go then you should ask.” He looked at her as he took a step closer, and when he did, she didn’t take a step back.

“Okay, then can we eat there?” Her hands went to her hips as she tapped her foot on the ground.

“You’re forgetting something.” She took note of the small way his nostrils flared.

“Am I?”

“Yes, you are, Amaya. Most people say please when there is something that they want.” His voice was low, coming out as nothing more than a rumble.

“Let’s say for argument's sake that I don’t say it. Then what happens?” She tilted her head to the side.

“Then I will escort you back to your desk and we will be done here. If you want something, you will ask nicely for it.” She felt each word, the gruff tone in his voice doing something to her that she couldn’t quite explain.

“That’s a little demanding.” She chewed at the inside of her cheek, heat radiating through her body.

“Yes, it is.” He didn’t seem to be the least bit ashamed of it. He blinked and looked at her as if he was waiting for something. Waiting for her to ask nicely as he put it.

She followed her arms across her chest. He was standing so close that she felt him brush against her forearms, but she didn’t back down. She could smell how just how good he smelled. She wanted to let out a swear because if she had one weakness in life, it was a good looking man that smelled even better. She was set in being stubborn, but the longer he stared at her, the less stubborn she began to feel. He held her gaze, silently challenging her in her way that was making her feel even hotter than she had been already.

Finally she rolled her eyes and blowing out a forceful breath through her nose, “Fine. Please?”

“We’ll have to work on your manners at a later date.” His mouth twitched a little. “But for now, we will eat.”

No other words were spoken between the two of them until they were seated in a booth. The smell of greasy food that was completely bad for her had Amaya’s stomach growling and rumbling. She eyed the menu even though she knew exactly what she wanted because she could feel his eyes on her, and after their last staring contest, she wasn’t ready for another one so soon.

“How long have you been working at the centre?” His voice brought her attention from the menu to him. For a second.

“I got an internship for my sophomore year of undergrad and the social justice department seemed like a good fit at the time since I was a poly sci major. I’ve been there ever since.” She stared at the menu intently as if she hadn’t seen it a thousand times before this.

“You say at the time. Is it no longer a good fit for you?” She peeked over the top of the menu to find him staring right back at her.

“No, it still is.” She closed her menu as a waitress came up to their table, greeting them and asking what they would like to order. “I’ll have a cheeseburger and as many fries as you can put on a plate, please.”

The waitress turned to T’Challa, expecting him to order, but he had never looked at the menu. His eyes were still on Amaya. “I’ll have what she’s having. Thank you.” He waited until the waitress disappeared from their table. “So you can say please to her with no questions?”

“She wasn’t nearly as demanding.” She had to press her lips together to keep herself from smiling. She was used to using humor to ease a tense situation and there was always some kind of heavy air, thick with tension, that seemed to fall over the two of them.

“Do you not like someone being demanding?” He leaned forward on the table, his hands underneath his chin.

Feeling just a little bit bolder, she mirrored his actions. “I didn’t say that.”

“Then why all the push back, Amaya?” She really did like the way he said her name. She didn’t know that three little syllables could sound so sexy.

“Keeps things interesting.”

“Or it will land you into trouble.” The gruff tone was back in his voice, making her shift in her seat.

“And what kind of trouble will it land me in if I continue, Sir?” Her eyes searched his face for some sort of hint at what his answer would be.

“Would you like to find out?” She could see something stir behind his dark eyes.

She wanted to blurt out that she most definitely wanted to find out. She was seconds away from doing so when she remembered that she barely knew this man and here she was flirting so openly with him. She needed to control over herself. She never acted like this. She could only assume the cause of this sudden change in her was the man sitting across from her. She didn’t know how to explain it. The words were lost on her, but there something about him. It was still no excuse. Regardless of how comfortable she may have felt, he was still practically a stranger to her.

“So what’s it like to be a king?” She cleared her throat, slowly leaning back in her seat and trying to place some distance between him and herself.

He sat there in complete silence for a few seconds before he let out a loud laugh. She couldn’t help but smile as he laughed. He did so so openly, his smile taking over his entire face. She found herself liking the sight probably more than she should. There was no denying that she was attracted to him, but she knew acting on that attraction would be a bad idea.

“Is that really what you want to know?” He asked her when finally stop laughing.

“Actually, yeah. I really want to know. I��m curious about Wakanda….and you.” The look that crossed his face at her words was almost one of surprise. She wanted to ask if people didn’t ask about him on a personal level often but she never got the chance.

“Amaya? Girl, I thought that was you.” Her shrill voice was like nails on a chalkboard and she wore a shit eating grin with Amaya looked at her. In her rush to her food, she had forgotten the bitch worked here.

“What do you want, Cherise?” Her hands clenched around the edge of the table to keep from rocking her jaw. She wasn’t pregnant anymore and Amaya had been waiting for the day she got to beat her ass, but in front of T’Challa wasn’t the place or the time.

“I just wanted to come say hi. Does Rod know you’re here?” Her eyes fell on T’Challa and her smile got even bigger. “I’m going to assume that he doesn’t. I’m Cherise. Who are you?” He only looked at her, an unimpressed look on his face.

“I suggest you move along before I forget you have kids at home.” Her jaw clenched. Her patience was wearing thin.

“Rod’s kids you mean? I’ll make sure to tell him you said hey when he comes by tonight.” Cherise was only saved when she walked away from the table because Amaya was seconds away from grabbing a fistful of her long braids and dragging her up and down the diner, wiping the floor with her fake ass.

“Was that a friend of yours?”

“How exactly do you think I treat my friends?” The anger hadn’t exactly subsided and when she looked at him, she did so with a glare.

“Very well,” he paused for a moment. “And who is Rod?”

Up until that point, she had forgotten all about Rod. He had been the furthest thing from her mind. Hearing his name, brought everything back into startling clarity. She was cheating. She tapped her fingers against the top of the table, trying to find the words, but the words found her instead as she blurted out, “My boyfriend.”

#t'challa imagine #t'challa fluff #t’challa fanfiction #tchalla fanfic #black panther fanfiction #black panther fic #black panther imagine #series: learn ya

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goldenworldsabound · 7 years ago

Text

Chapter 3 - First Dates Move Fast With You

This is a super fluffy cute chapter dasjkfhksfd I think it’s my favorite to reread right now <3

Wendy was too shy to call Akabayashi over the weekend. She knew she’d see him when she went to the dojo next, so she couldn’t quite convince herself to do it. She’d been so forward that night, she felt like she couldn’t believe it had really happened.

So after training at the dojo on Monday, she walked with Akane outside, feeling exceptionally nervous as the young girl chatted at her.

“Akabayashi-san!” Akane yelled, running up the red-headed man happily. “Wendy-senpai came back! Yay!”

Wendy walked up behind her, feeling a bit sheepish but trying to act normal. “H-hey, Mizuki-san…” She wondered if Akane would notice how she addressed him. If she did, she didn’t comment on it or find it strange, thankfully.

“Nice to see you, Wendy-chan.” Akabayashi grinned at her. “Ah right, do you want these keys back?” He held up the keys, letting them dangle from between his fingers.

“Yeah, that would be lovely. Thank you again.” Wendy bowed a little. Akane looked between the two of them quizzically.

“Aha, well you see...you owe me a favor now, to get them back.” He pulled them into his fist, grinning, looking mischievous. “You should know, that’s how these things go…”

Wendy didn’t pick up on the fact that he was teasing her. Her eyes went a bit wide. Did he mean like, because he was yakuza, she needed to pay him back? She started to panic a bit, standing there frozen.

“Wendy-chan? I’m teasing you.” He said after a moment, holding the keys out to her.

Wendy blinked, before blushing a fierce red, embarrassed about totally misreading the situation. She sputtered incomprehensibly at him as she snatched the keys, making a wide range of faces before she settled on covering her face with her hands.

“Akabayashi-san! You broke Wendy-senpai!” Akane yelled indignantly, pouting a bit.

Akabayashi laughed, and Wendy shook her head a little, even more mortified at Akane’s comment.

Holding his hands up apologetically, he grinned at Akane. “I promise I didn’t mean to, Akane-chan. She’ll be fine in a moment, I’m sure.”

Wendy finally took her face out of her hands, breathing deeply. “Y-yeah, I’m fine, see Akane-chan?” She smiled, still a bit pink. “It’s all good.”

Akane looked confused for a moment, but then smiled. “Okay!” She seemed to accept it easily enough.

Wendy gave a little sigh of relief.

“Well, we’ve got to get going.” Akabayashi said, looking at Wendy with his lopsided grin. He opened the door for Akane who got into the car, and then walked to the other side to get in. As he opened the door, Wendy worked up the courage to call out to him.

“Mi-Mizuki-san!” He looked at her, pausing. “I...I’ll call you, okay?” She blushed a little again.

Akabayashi grinned. “I looked forward to it.” He waved as he got into the car.

-----------------------------------------------

For their next date, Akabayashi had offered to show her around Ikebukuro a bit more. It was nice, and calm, and they bantered more, but all in all it was mostly uneventful.

Mostly.

Akabayashi took a call for a moment, walking a short distance away from Wendy, to avoid her overhearing any yakuza business. They were at the edge of West Gate park, and Wendy was looking curiously at a group of yellow-bandana wearing boys. There were only 3 of them, but Wendy still thought it was odd. They looked a bit old to be in a color gang, from her understanding, more like adults, than teens.

Noticing her stare, they made their way over. She swiftly turned away, trying to pretend she hadn’t been looking at them, but they continued to approach her anyway.

“The fuck you want, bitch?” One asked.

“Oh, uh, nothing, really I just, you all matched. That’s all. I thought that was neat.” She replied frantically, sweating nervously. In her fear, she had forgotten that Akabayashi wasn’t far at all, and if she had yelled his name he would have come right over. As it was, he was beginning to notice the situation.

“Are you making fun of us?!”

“N-no! No! Not at all. We don’t, um, normally see people match like this in America, haha, that’s all…” She put her hands up weakly, defensively.

“America huh? Why don’t you let us give you a little tour and you can give us a little something something…”

“Um, no thanks.” Her voice went a bit high as she laughed, trying to pass it off. “I’m okay.”

The men frowned at her. “It’s not something you can refuse, bitch.” One of them reached out to grab her arm-

And yelled out as Akabayashi’s cane landed sharply on his arm, causing him to retract. They all turned to face the older man.

“I don’t normally like to fight kids, you know. But I can’t let you harass Wendy-chan like that, and you don’t really look like kids anyway, despite the scarves…” Akabayashi stated, grinning, lazily leaning on his cane.

“Stay out of this old man, unless you wanna get wrecked.”

Akabayashi sighed, shrugging. “If you insist.” Swiftly changing position, he grabbed the arm of the nearest man and flipped him onto the ground, and then immediately pushed the cane lightly into the man’s neck.

The men all looked startled and panicked, especially the one who was in immediate danger.

“H-hey wait a minute...that’s Akabayashi...aw shit.” One of the men recognized him finally, and his eyes were bulging with fear. The other two had a similar reaction as they realized they were challenging a member of the Awakusu-kai.

“I can let you off with a warning this time...but next time I won’t be so forgiving.” His eye glinted dangerously as he lifted the cane. The men ran off.

He turned to Wendy. “Are you okay, Wendy-chan? You could have called for my help, you know.”

“Oh! Yes, I am, thank you...I guess I kind of panicked and didn’t think of that…” She slumped apologetically. “I’m not very good at staying out of trouble…” She grumbled.

Akabayashi put his hand on her shoulder, squeezing gently. “We’ll work on that.” His eye glanced around the park habitually, momentarily stopping to gaze at the appearance of an interesting person. It was that infobroker, wasn’t it. The one who might have put bad ideas into Akane’s head…

Orihara Izaya.

He was on the other side of the park, and he wasn’t making any moves toward them. But Akabayashi frowned a bit. Izaya’s smirk was unsettling. Akabayashi was sure he knew not to implicate himself in anything bad that happened to the Awakusu-kai, although he didn’t trust the man one bit.

“What’s wrong?” Wendy had noticed his disgruntled expression.

Akabayashi shook his head, looking back at Wendy. “Ah, nothing. Just thinking about how out of control the gangs are getting around here...you said you wanted to watch a movie together right?” He changed the subject.

“Oh, yeah! Back at my place, I meant.” She said, getting a bit shy, looking at her feet and smiling. She thought it was a bit forward for a second date, but that seemed to be how their relationship was going. Extremely forward and moving fast.

“You’re doing a cute thing again.” Akabayashi commented with a grin as they started to walk back towards her apartment.

“Stop telling me that!” She replied, blushing as she lightly smacked his arm. This had been going on all day. He really liked teasing her, and she had yet to successfully get him to blush (she didn’t know about the time she had succeeded, as her face had been buried in his chest at the time).

“Nah.”

She fake glared at him.

----------------------------------------------------------

Once they got to her place, they sat down on the couch and started watching the movie they’d chosen. Despite careful deliberation of the movie to watch, Wendy found she couldn’t focus at all.

She was incredibly distracted by how they were almost touching, but not quite, and how much she wanted to change that. She had started to figure out that Akabayashi was waiting to let her make the moves, and she understood why that might be. But it was nerve-wracking nonetheless. Maybe she should have gone out of character and picked a scary movie so she’d have an excuse to snuggle up to him...but she really didn’t like scary movies, anyway…

Finally after some time of hardly paying attention to the movie and noticing that Akabayashi was sometimes glancing at her, she scooched the small distance over so that their legs were touching. Feeling her heart pound, she leaned against him, and he immediately moved to put his arm around her. At that, she snuggled in a bit closer, and glancing at his face noticed that he was smiling. She smiled too.

With her head on his chest again, she closed her eyes, feeling comfortable and warm. She’d already lost the thread of the movie (had she even had it at any point?), so she simply enjoyed the feeling of warmth and the rhythmic beating of his heart.

Without really meaning to, she fell asleep.

Akabayashi noticed the change in her breathing, and felt her slump more into him. He smiled to himself, and debated turning off the movie. If he moved too much she might wake up, and he was comfortable too, so he let it run. She started snoring lightly, which he thought was adorable as well. In the meantime he pulled out his phone and skimmed the Dollars’ website and the group chat he had joined.

When the movie finished, Wendy stirred, slowly opening her eyes, and taking in the situation. Akabayashi slipped his phone into his pocket, grinning at her.

“Good morning, sleepy head.” He teased, using the hand wrapped around her shoulders to gently muss her hair.

“Ah...AH! I, I fell asleep?!” She couldn’t believe it. Blushing, she buried her face into his chest again, turning sideways to snuggle into him further.

“You even snored a little.” He teased, knowing exactly what he was doing.

She sputtered back nonsense at him as she usually did when flustered like this. He squeezed her shoulder gently.

“I’m surprised at how little my situation bothers you, you know. To be so comfortable as to fall asleep.” He murmured.

“I can’t help it.” Her voice came back muffled. “I couldn’t stay away from you even if I decided I should.”

“Oh? My irresistible charm, you say?” He grinned. “That makes two of us.”

“Mm.” She snuggled into him more, wrapping her arms around his body. She couldn’t entirely hide her face like that, and Akabayashi saw that she was blushing and pouting, a very cute combination. She looked like she was thinking. He wondered what about.

She was thinking about what to do next. Part of her wanted to keep snuggling, part of her wanted to push that a bit, and part of her thought she should stop now and try to have a conversation.

She pulled a bit back, retracting her arms and looking up at him. He grinned down at her.

“What’s up, Wendy-chan?”

“I was just wondering...um...w-what happened, to your eye?”

“Hm...that’s a bit of a gory story, I’m not sure if the mood’s right for that sort of tale.” He grinned. “I can show you the replacement, if you really want.”

“Oh, sure! I’ve never seen a fake eye before…” She was curious, eyes wide.

He took off his glasses and set them on the table. He turned to look at her, and then opened his scarred eye. Wendy was momentarily taken aback. It was really a well done glass-eye, but it was...almost in the uncanny valley, with the way it was almost realistic enough, but not quite. And when opened, it seemed to always be wide. After a moment, he closed his eye again, grinning still.

“What did you think?” He asked, chuckling at her silent but somewhat awed stare. He went to pick up his glasses. He felt her hand tugging on his sleeve.

“Wait. Can...can I...can I feel your scar?” She asked timidly, looking away and still holding onto his jacket sleeve.

He laughed. “If you’d like, Wendy-chan.” He leaned back on the couch.

Wendy leaned over him (the scarred eye was on the side away from her), not getting up from the couch. She got on her knees, and she put a hand on the other side of him to balance herself. If he hadn’t been on his good behavior he would have just pulled her onto his lap. But given the implicit power dynamic he resisted the urge. Her chest brushed against him as she leaned forward, gently brushing a finger on his scarred eyelid. He closed his other eye, feeling her light and curious touches. The scar tissue itself felt nothing, but the skin around it was sensitive to her gentle touch, and as she continued she unthinkingly pushed up more against him. Eventually, without really thinking about, she was straddling him, and she ran her finger absent-mindedly down the side of his face.

She put her finger on his lips, and sensing an opportunity, he kissed it lightly, opening his eye to see her reaction.

She froze for a moment, as if processing, and then reacted all at once. She blushed deeply and put her hands to her mouth, also seeming to notice the position she’d moved into.

“AH, AH, AAAH I’m uh, I’m, o-oh, um, eheheh-” She couldn’t quite get any words out.

“You’re such a forward young woman, and here I am trying to be good…” He was clearly teasing her. “A man can only take so much.” He said dramatically, grinning wide.

“I’m not, I’m not normally like this, I don’t, I don’t know what, what came over me…”

“All teasing aside, I didn’t mind at all, sweet. Sorry I startled you.” He chuckled a bit as he apologized.

“Are you really sorry, though…” Wendy mumbled, taking her hands off her face and putting them gingerly on his shoulders. “Are you…”

“Only a little bit, to be honest.” He replied, hardly fazed as she continued to lean over him.

“I knew it.” She grumbled back. “Maybe you’re a bad man after all!”

“In that case, let me play the role for a moment…” In one smooth motion, he laid down on the couch, pulling Wendy down on top of him. She squeaked, her hands reflexively going out to either side of him to catch herself before she fell completely on him. He had his hands on her back, and he pulled her down until she collapsed on top of him, squeaking further.

“MI-MIZUKI-SAN!” She protested, though she didn’t try to move away at all. She could feel his surprisingly muscled body underneath her and she felt herself getting hot.

“It’s comfier than holding yourself up, isn’t it?” He said with a cheeky grin.

“Y-yeah…” She admitted. She didn’t quite meet his gaze. She was still a bit tense, uncertain.

He released his grip on her, sensing that she was a bit uncomfortable with this. She got up and they both shifted back to sitting on the couch, his arm around her again.

“That’s better though, huh?” He asked, trying to make sure she was at ease. She nodded.

“Um, do you wanna watch another movie?” Wendy asked, biting her lip a little shyly.

“Oh? Do you mean watch watch or just an excuse to cuddle-”

She put her hand over his mouth suddenly, looking flustered that she was being called out like this.

“SHUSH. Let me be sneaky, you old man. That’s what the kids these days do.” She fake scolded, pouting at him, before taking back her hand.

“Oh, sorry, my bad. Yeah sure, let’s ‘watch a movie’.” He made air quotes dramatically while grinning and she threw up her hands in mock frustration.

“MIZUKI-SAN!” She flopped her face into his shoulder, gently hitting him with her fists as she did so. “You’re not letting me be subtle! At all!”

“I’m not sure that you were being subtle, even before I said anything.” He replied, laughing and rubbing her shoulder. “I mean really, you obviously didn’t intend to watch that last movie at all.”

“Was, was it that obvious…” She mumbled, side eyeing him and blushing.

“It was.” He tilted his head so that their faces were close, smirking. “If there’s something you want to do, we don’t need any pretenses, sweet.” His breath felt hot on her face and she felt captivated by his expression. She felt herself growing weak.

“If you need another nap I’m happy to be a pillow.” He said with a playful grin, breaking the mood.

Wendy stared at him for a moment. “You, that’s-” Her indignant sputtering turned into nonsense quickly, and she rolled out of his grasp to the far side of the couch, facing away from him. She looked back over her shoulder and scowled at him. “Mean!”

“Oh, dear…” He said pleasantly, still smiling. “Have I lost my cuddle privileges?”

“Maybe.” She grumbled back, curling up as she looked away from him.

He scooched closer to her on the couch, leaning over her a bit. “Is there something I can do to earn it back, Wendy-cha~n?”

She narrowed her eyes as she looked back at him. “M-maybe…”

He waited for her to say more, but she didn’t.

“...should I guess?” He asked with a grin, figuring that would get a response out of her. His guesses would almost certainly fluster her. Without waiting for a response, he started. “Hug you nice and gentle-like, stroke your hair, kiss your blushing cheeks, invite you over for tea-”

Okay, admittedly that last one was a little bit silly, so when she suddenly turned around with a huge blush on her face he figured he was going to get punched. The last thing he expected was what actually happened.

She leaned up and pushed her lips into his. He was momentarily shocked, eye wide, before he leaned into the kiss, gently putting a hand on the side of her face and closing his eye. After a moment, they pulled apart, Wendy slowly opening her eyes to look at him in a daze. He looked back with a big smile, a little blush on his cheeks from being surprised.

“Yo-you’re blushing…” Wendy mumbled, putting her hand over his, which was still resting lightly on her face.

He laughed a little. “I couldn’t have seen that coming in a million years, Wendy-chan.” He replied. “You’re blushing too, you know.”

“O-oh!” Wendy put her face into her hands, squirming a bit. “I, I, I don’t know what came, what came over me…I just wanted to shut you up before you said something too embarrassing for me…”

His hearty, full-bellied laugh startled her and she peeked out from behind her hands.

“THAT’s why you kissed me? Wendy-chan, goodness, you’re not as innocent as you appear!” He grinned, wiping a little tear from his eye from laughing so hard.

“It is kind of funny, isn’t it?” Wendy giggled a bit herself, slowly lowering her hands and putting them on top of Akabayashi’s, despite still being aware that she was blushing.

“It’s hysterical, well-played.” He replied. “And it got the job done. Of course, I wanted to be the one to kiss you first...I didn’t imagine you’d take that away from me.” He grinned to make it clear he meant no harm by it.

“Well I...I noticed that you were...um, holding back, maybe? You were always letting me make the first move, I guess…” She mumbled, feeling doubt creep in that her observations might have been wrong.

“Ah, you noticed, huh?” He leaned back and closed his eye for a moment. Upon opening it again and meeting her gaze, he smiled. “I didn’t want to pressure you or anything, you know. There’s a power dynamic. Both because of my age and strength, and because of my profession…”

“Ah...I’m surprised I didn’t think of that.” Wendy replied. “W-well, you’re welcome to, um, make moves...as long as you’re gentle with me…”

Akabayashi stared at her for a moment, feeling a blush rise to his cheeks again. There she was, kneeling on the couch facing him, head turned to the side a bit as she avoided his gaze, blushing, and saying lines like that? It was almost too much.

“I’ll start with this one, then.” He said softly, sitting up to bring his face close to hers, and closing the gap for another kiss, his hand gently resting on the back of her head. Her lips were so soft, and he felt her catch her breath in surprise before she returned the kiss. She put her hands on his chest tentatively.

Their lips pulled apart again, and Wendy shyly snuggled up to him. He put his arm around her and pulled her into him, looking down at her cute face resting in the crook of his neck.

“So then...did you say you wanted to watch a movie?” Akabayashi teased, squeezing her shoulder.

“You know, I thought I did, but you were right...I don’t need any pretenses.” She grinned up at him. As she made eye contact she wavered. “W-well, not for, not for kisses, anyway…”

He raised a brow at her. “You need pretenses for other things? Like what?” He grinned wickedly as her eyes widened at what she expected him to say next. “Like sex-”

She shoved her hands over his mouth while blushing furiously. “MIZUKI-SAN.” She half-screamed, even as she felt him grinning under her hands. “I. I AM. I’M.”

Incoherent, she removed her hands from his face and buried her face in his chest, groaning a little.

He chuckled, patting her back. “That was adorable, Wendy-chan.”

“Shut up.” Came the muffled reply.

“There, there.” He kissed the top of her head gently.

“Why are you wearing a jacket inside anyway.” Wendy grumbled, pulling back to look up at him, blushing and pretending like she wasn’t.

“Well it’s...part of my suit, you know.” He wasn’t going to let her off that easily.

“But isn’t it a bit warm?” She continued, poking his chest lightly.

“Not really, no.” He grinned. She hung her head, sighing heavily. “Oh, I’m sorry, were you being subtle?” He teased, kissing her head again.

“I...yes…” Wendy mumbled.

“You can just ask, you know.” Akabayashi unbuttoned his suit jacket, and slid out of it, folding it neatly and laying it on the arm of the couch. Wendy thought the blue button shirt suited him. The top two buttons were already undone, and the effect of this was even more noticeable without the suit. She felt her heart pound a bit faster.

“Um...can we do, do that lying down thing, again…” She asked with a blush.

“Of course, Wendy-chan.” He was more gentle this time and he pulled her onto him and brought his legs onto the couch to be lying down. She snuggled onto him happily, closing her eyes. He put one hand on her back, and the other he caressed her face with.

“Don’t feel asleep on me again though…” He teased. “It wouldn’t be terribly comfortable for a long time.”

“O-oh, right.”

“Of course, if you do want to sleep, I imagine you’ve got a bed somewhere around here.”

“B-but, I’ve already been much too forward for a second date…”

“That’s fine, sweet, if you’re uncomfortable with that. I won’t judge you either way. I’m happy with what you’re happy with.”

Wendy was glad to hear him be so serious about it, although that too made her blush a bit. He was so sincere and genuine, after being so teasing and playful.

“S-so if I, um, I wanted to have, um, do...do sex things, uh...you...you would?” She squirmed a little bit uncomfortable, not making eye contact again.

“If that was what you wanted, Wendy-chan.” He stroked her hair gently. “And only if it was what you wanted.”

She nodded to herself, and closed her eyes again, content with his answer. “...thank you…” She mumbled. Akabayashi understood that she wasn’t thanking him for being willing to have sex with her, but for respecting her boundaries, whatever they might turn out to be.

They snuggled for a while longer.

Unfortunately, Akabayashi needed to leave eventually.

“Mobsters don’t get weekends off, unfortunately.” He joked, as she reluctantly allowed him to get up.

“Is that what that call was about earlier?”

“That’s right.” He slipped on his jacket and buttoned it up. “Let me know when you want to go on another date, alright Wendy-chan?”

“Why don’t you call me for once, hm?” Wendy asked, sticking her tongue out at him. “Stop making me do all the work!”

He chuckled. “Well, I want to see you as soon as possible, so I don’t know if you want me to be the one doing that…”

“Well I’ll tell you if it’s too much, Mizuki-san.”

“You know, you don’t have to use san, Wendy-chan.”

“O-oh, right, well, I...I’d feel weird calling you kun, since you’re so much older than me…”

“I don’t think it’d be that weird. Give it a try sometime.”

“O-okay, Mizuki...kun.” She blushed a little at his pleased look.

“Sounds nice to me. So then, rather than call you, do you want to do something tomorrow?” He asked as he put on his shoes.

“Oh! Um! Yes, of course...I’m not sure what yet, but, that sounds...nice.” She smiled up at him.

“I’ll be by then. I’ll see you later-”

“W-wait!” She stretched on her tiptoes to land a gentle kiss on his lips, blushing and giggling a bit. “I almost couldn’t reach…”

With a wide grin, he leaned down to give her a longer, rougher kiss.

“I’ll see you tomorrow.” He repeated.

#wendyashi #fic #chapter 3 #Red Devil's Honey

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